A/N: Dreamcast begins anew in Book II: The Ivory Host! This will include a
bit of first person telling. You like?
Quick recap: Rivers wrecked her car after fighting with her retarded brother and ends up in Middle Earth, Weathertop, to be exact. The witch- King of Agmar stabs her; she is taken to Rivendell, and is sent with the Fellowship to Lothlorien. She was then skewered by and orc and fell from the spear due to a tear in her stomach. (Bleech!) We find Rivers on the ground, fighting for something she should have left alone.
Rivers' POV
I'm crawling, running along the surface of the ground. I'm slipping through the cracks, because I worry that they won't find me, but my belly is leaving a thick trail of scarlet, like a crimson carpet to my corpse. I'm scampering along, blundering through the woods and I'm dying, I can feel it.
And then it hits me.
If I die here, I can go home.
Back to Kyler and the morgue.
Then something else literally hits me. As in, ouch, that hurts.
It's the blunt end of and orc blade, and it flips me over. My stomach is gouged open and they can see I'm hanging on to life by my fingernails. I think Merry and Pippin were in there somewhere, but I'm not sure.
The lead one grimaces at me. "Fresh meat, anyone?"
He raises his blade. Not now, I think, and grab something around my waist. Our weapons meet and he gasps, and so do I.
It's the Cúron Ivor.
He recoils and I shove it in my mouth and blow.
A sound comes out this time, long and graceful, sleek yet sharp. They stop and sway, drugged, before they rage against each other. I can't hear, I can't even see, so I can't be sure if they are eating me alive or tearing themselves apart. I scream aloud and cry when I can't hear myself, can't feel the tears spilling across my cheeks.
Is this dying? It doesn't feel so bad.
I try to recall a conversation between Kyler and I, summoning the scattered pieces of me in one last wish to see him again.
*Flashback*
"If I was sick with cancer, I wouldn't die."
Pause.
"I don't know why they die."
"I don't know why anybody dies except when they're beheaded or skewered by an orc."
"Orcs aren't real."
"Would you still be saying that when you're on the ground with an orc spear stuck in you?"
*Flashback*
I laugh. 'No, I would I say you were right,' I think. Tears are drizzling across my cheeks; I know it, even if I can't feel them. 'I'm so proud of you!'
I hear someone whisper in my ear. I hope it's Legolas. I don't know why. But at least I can hear this. They are coaxing me. I beg mentally, pleading to them that I can't hear, can't move, and I'm half-blind.
They grow louder, vexed that I would not try to do anything. I catch words: 'sorry', 'awake' and the familiar word, 'Sirion'. I can only imagine why that was in there. The flute is speaking to me.
With one shred of strength, I pick up the wretched crystal and try to break it. I don't care if it's feeble attempt, but this Cúron Ivor is scaring the shit out of me. Call it rash, call it desperate, call it what you want! Just make it shut up. My dying should be peaceful.
I feel it slip. I switch the voices off, mid-syllable. A smile is propped up on my lips as I blow my legacy to the halls of Middle Earth.
Eomer's POV
It was by far the strangest thing I've seen. A bloody, dead girl ringed by clean orcs, just as dead as her. And that's saying something.
Her hair was dipped in her blood and I think her eyes were white, but I couldn't tell in the dark. How she killed them or even if she did so, is a mystery to me, but nonetheless, she was dead so we piled her with the rest of the orcs and burned her.
I swear I heard her sigh when I set her alight.
Quick recap: Rivers wrecked her car after fighting with her retarded brother and ends up in Middle Earth, Weathertop, to be exact. The witch- King of Agmar stabs her; she is taken to Rivendell, and is sent with the Fellowship to Lothlorien. She was then skewered by and orc and fell from the spear due to a tear in her stomach. (Bleech!) We find Rivers on the ground, fighting for something she should have left alone.
Rivers' POV
I'm crawling, running along the surface of the ground. I'm slipping through the cracks, because I worry that they won't find me, but my belly is leaving a thick trail of scarlet, like a crimson carpet to my corpse. I'm scampering along, blundering through the woods and I'm dying, I can feel it.
And then it hits me.
If I die here, I can go home.
Back to Kyler and the morgue.
Then something else literally hits me. As in, ouch, that hurts.
It's the blunt end of and orc blade, and it flips me over. My stomach is gouged open and they can see I'm hanging on to life by my fingernails. I think Merry and Pippin were in there somewhere, but I'm not sure.
The lead one grimaces at me. "Fresh meat, anyone?"
He raises his blade. Not now, I think, and grab something around my waist. Our weapons meet and he gasps, and so do I.
It's the Cúron Ivor.
He recoils and I shove it in my mouth and blow.
A sound comes out this time, long and graceful, sleek yet sharp. They stop and sway, drugged, before they rage against each other. I can't hear, I can't even see, so I can't be sure if they are eating me alive or tearing themselves apart. I scream aloud and cry when I can't hear myself, can't feel the tears spilling across my cheeks.
Is this dying? It doesn't feel so bad.
I try to recall a conversation between Kyler and I, summoning the scattered pieces of me in one last wish to see him again.
*Flashback*
"If I was sick with cancer, I wouldn't die."
Pause.
"I don't know why they die."
"I don't know why anybody dies except when they're beheaded or skewered by an orc."
"Orcs aren't real."
"Would you still be saying that when you're on the ground with an orc spear stuck in you?"
*Flashback*
I laugh. 'No, I would I say you were right,' I think. Tears are drizzling across my cheeks; I know it, even if I can't feel them. 'I'm so proud of you!'
I hear someone whisper in my ear. I hope it's Legolas. I don't know why. But at least I can hear this. They are coaxing me. I beg mentally, pleading to them that I can't hear, can't move, and I'm half-blind.
They grow louder, vexed that I would not try to do anything. I catch words: 'sorry', 'awake' and the familiar word, 'Sirion'. I can only imagine why that was in there. The flute is speaking to me.
With one shred of strength, I pick up the wretched crystal and try to break it. I don't care if it's feeble attempt, but this Cúron Ivor is scaring the shit out of me. Call it rash, call it desperate, call it what you want! Just make it shut up. My dying should be peaceful.
I feel it slip. I switch the voices off, mid-syllable. A smile is propped up on my lips as I blow my legacy to the halls of Middle Earth.
Eomer's POV
It was by far the strangest thing I've seen. A bloody, dead girl ringed by clean orcs, just as dead as her. And that's saying something.
Her hair was dipped in her blood and I think her eyes were white, but I couldn't tell in the dark. How she killed them or even if she did so, is a mystery to me, but nonetheless, she was dead so we piled her with the rest of the orcs and burned her.
I swear I heard her sigh when I set her alight.