Oops...I forgot on the last one, please don't sue me. I don't own Lord of
the Rings or Harry Potter, although I would very much like to because the
third movie for both and the fifth book would have been done right...uhm,
did I say that? I mean in a manner that would have suited my personal
preferences without infringing on the rights of the true authors.
I wrote several versions of this one and this is the one that won. It is kind of long, but that is sort of the point...drama and all that. The next ones will be shorter unless the evil plot bunnies strike again. Enjoy! And thanx to the reviewers...hope this lives up to the potential.
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A woman clothed in a gown of midnight silk stood at a window looking over the Land of Mordor. Her black hair was tinged with silver and fell in cascades down her back. A silver ring shaped like a claw with a sphere of obsidian in its talons glinted on her right forefinger. Power swirled almost tangibly around her.
Turning from the breathtakingly gloomy sight, she floated over to a small desk and took out a bound tome of blank pages. Smoothly she set out the ink, grasped a rather beraggled raven feather, and began to write:
My name is Bellatrix Lestrange. I am a witch. Unlike some people (who I believe should not exist), I had the ultimate fortune of being born into an ancient magic family. Magic runs deep in my blood and I am more than a natural, 'uncanny' my Slitherin house head at school called me. With my abilities, I knew that I could go farther than anyone in my family ever had. To this end I joined my Lord V. When his brilliant plan fell apart, I ended up in jail, wizard jail. It seemed as though my gifts would rot away, but then I was given the chance to show my greatness for another great dark lord, this one of a place called Middle Earth, far far away from home. I have decided to keep a journal of my aiding tyranny in another universe. It will be quite an adventure, hopefully one that ends better than my last one. It all started...
IIIA, 3019, 7 January Arrived in "Middle Earth" yesterday. Had the most wonderful time breaking out of Azkaban. It all started as a normal day—the waking from a nightmare to a nightmare, the screaming, the pain, which would have all been wonderful had not been directed at me.
Why can't those bloody dementors be directed at people worth torturing, not controlled into sucking happiness from those whose goals are practically the same as theirs? The justice system that we wizards is rather ironic...our very jailers are those who would be on our side if they were allowed to. Why spend all that effort controlling them, when we could just let them loose on all the Mudbloods and halfbreeds?
As I was contemplating this very happy thought which was making the dementors outside my cell tremble with joy (could it be that they felt the same way I do), I suddenly heard the dementors' screaming change from the usual pleasure to a scream distinctly full of...terror? There were also other screams, shrill and attacking. A breakout! I remember thinking, but what are the chances of that...unless my lord Voldemort has finally returned to power. With that thought my heart had soared.
At that moment, my cell door began shaking, and there was a bang of explosion as the locks were destroyed. An incredibly tall and charmingly menacing figure stepped in amidst the destruction his charm had caused.
The approaching warrior spoke, "Are you the Lady Bellatrix?"
The lady part confused me for a short second, but the tone carried such command that I melted and immediately knew this man was not only a pure-blood, but also a gentleman of gentlemen. I decided to respond in kind.
"Yes, dark sir. Have you come to take me to our master?"
"Aye, your application has been accepted."
What application? I wondered, then I remembered the interprison memo that had circulated several weeks ago about a dark lord needing to recruit a female agent with sinister experience for a contract job. Being as this dark lord was in a different universe and my true mission was on hold indefinitely, I responded, knowing that this temporary job would not compormise my commitment to Voldemort and wizard supremecy. And now it appeared that I had the job.
Any way out of Azkaban is better than no way, I quickly decided and said, "Well, then, shall we proceed?"
My cloaked rescuer screamed that beautiful call that had put terror in the moth-eaten hearts of the dementors in response, calling his team to him. They all gathered around me, and their leader began chanting, Tal, tul, tal, tul, Bot agh ku dalgug. Tal, tul, tal, tul, Trouthu rad farghatug.
As the chant reached a crescendo, it was as though a black hole had enveloped us, sucking all light away. The pull of a port key is a mere shove compared to this magic, which wrenched us from Azkaban into its tunnel of thick night. I must have blacked out before we exited the wormhole because the next thing I remember is waking up in a deliciously soft bed. Angmar has just come to escort me to my first official appearance before my new employer, the tale of which I will have to finish later.
Translation from Black Speech: There, here, there, here, World and time removing. There, here, there, here, Beyond territory now jumping.
I wrote several versions of this one and this is the one that won. It is kind of long, but that is sort of the point...drama and all that. The next ones will be shorter unless the evil plot bunnies strike again. Enjoy! And thanx to the reviewers...hope this lives up to the potential.
--------------------------------------
A woman clothed in a gown of midnight silk stood at a window looking over the Land of Mordor. Her black hair was tinged with silver and fell in cascades down her back. A silver ring shaped like a claw with a sphere of obsidian in its talons glinted on her right forefinger. Power swirled almost tangibly around her.
Turning from the breathtakingly gloomy sight, she floated over to a small desk and took out a bound tome of blank pages. Smoothly she set out the ink, grasped a rather beraggled raven feather, and began to write:
My name is Bellatrix Lestrange. I am a witch. Unlike some people (who I believe should not exist), I had the ultimate fortune of being born into an ancient magic family. Magic runs deep in my blood and I am more than a natural, 'uncanny' my Slitherin house head at school called me. With my abilities, I knew that I could go farther than anyone in my family ever had. To this end I joined my Lord V. When his brilliant plan fell apart, I ended up in jail, wizard jail. It seemed as though my gifts would rot away, but then I was given the chance to show my greatness for another great dark lord, this one of a place called Middle Earth, far far away from home. I have decided to keep a journal of my aiding tyranny in another universe. It will be quite an adventure, hopefully one that ends better than my last one. It all started...
IIIA, 3019, 7 January Arrived in "Middle Earth" yesterday. Had the most wonderful time breaking out of Azkaban. It all started as a normal day—the waking from a nightmare to a nightmare, the screaming, the pain, which would have all been wonderful had not been directed at me.
Why can't those bloody dementors be directed at people worth torturing, not controlled into sucking happiness from those whose goals are practically the same as theirs? The justice system that we wizards is rather ironic...our very jailers are those who would be on our side if they were allowed to. Why spend all that effort controlling them, when we could just let them loose on all the Mudbloods and halfbreeds?
As I was contemplating this very happy thought which was making the dementors outside my cell tremble with joy (could it be that they felt the same way I do), I suddenly heard the dementors' screaming change from the usual pleasure to a scream distinctly full of...terror? There were also other screams, shrill and attacking. A breakout! I remember thinking, but what are the chances of that...unless my lord Voldemort has finally returned to power. With that thought my heart had soared.
At that moment, my cell door began shaking, and there was a bang of explosion as the locks were destroyed. An incredibly tall and charmingly menacing figure stepped in amidst the destruction his charm had caused.
The approaching warrior spoke, "Are you the Lady Bellatrix?"
The lady part confused me for a short second, but the tone carried such command that I melted and immediately knew this man was not only a pure-blood, but also a gentleman of gentlemen. I decided to respond in kind.
"Yes, dark sir. Have you come to take me to our master?"
"Aye, your application has been accepted."
What application? I wondered, then I remembered the interprison memo that had circulated several weeks ago about a dark lord needing to recruit a female agent with sinister experience for a contract job. Being as this dark lord was in a different universe and my true mission was on hold indefinitely, I responded, knowing that this temporary job would not compormise my commitment to Voldemort and wizard supremecy. And now it appeared that I had the job.
Any way out of Azkaban is better than no way, I quickly decided and said, "Well, then, shall we proceed?"
My cloaked rescuer screamed that beautiful call that had put terror in the moth-eaten hearts of the dementors in response, calling his team to him. They all gathered around me, and their leader began chanting, Tal, tul, tal, tul, Bot agh ku dalgug. Tal, tul, tal, tul, Trouthu rad farghatug.
As the chant reached a crescendo, it was as though a black hole had enveloped us, sucking all light away. The pull of a port key is a mere shove compared to this magic, which wrenched us from Azkaban into its tunnel of thick night. I must have blacked out before we exited the wormhole because the next thing I remember is waking up in a deliciously soft bed. Angmar has just come to escort me to my first official appearance before my new employer, the tale of which I will have to finish later.
Translation from Black Speech: There, here, there, here, World and time removing. There, here, there, here, Beyond territory now jumping.