WARNING: WARNING: WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH! BOOK ENDING!
The title and summary for Book Two will be at the end of the chapter!
They could taste the tension in the air.
It was as tangible as the mossy water trickling slowly down the trees, the rain whispering against the ground with a gentle hush. The skies had begun to weep shortly after they had pulled into a small shoal for the night, to rest and hide the boats. The remainder of the journey would be continued on foot, and Isabella was glad of that. The constant rocking back and forth had given her a queasy stomach, and the ground felt as though it were buckling under her feet. With a little groan, she sank to the ground and tucked her legs underneath her, gathering her cloak about her and fastening it tightly. The gray sky dripped liquid down to the earth, the silvery river dipping gracefully to allow each drop to enter the swift flowing stream. Aragorn and Legolas were making a fire, shielding it with cloaks and Boromir's massive shield. Daphne was huddling close to Madison, the two of them buried in thick cloaks and warming their hands up by breathing on them and playing "Concentration 64". Michael had gone off to get firewood, and Melody was by the riverbanks, reading a passage out of her leather-bound book. Gandalf and Tolkien were discussing something in a low, rapid whisper, with frequent glances around, and they both seemed to be on edge. Shonji, gloriously wet and beads of moisture clinging to each of his whiskers, came striding into camp, purring like a locomotive. He had that smug, self-satisfied grin that only cats can obtain, and he locked eyes with Isabella for a moment. Then he went off, slinking into the bushes after his mistress. The Sues had been notably absent from the conversations – instead of flipping their hair and bemoaning the fate of their wet dresses, they were talking in low voices, their Sue Auras at an all-time low. Nobody was paying them any attention.
The silence was broken by a curious, small, Hobbit voice. "Where's Frodo?" Pippin asked curiously, his large eyes half-closed and slightly anxious. Aragorn shot to his feet, slate-gray eyes looking immediately towards the place where Boromir had been sitting. His cloak and dagger were there, but nothing else. Aragorn swore several times, both in Common and in Elvish, and then took off into the forest, shouting for Boromir. Isabella squeezed her eyes shut tightly. She knew what was coming, and she didn't want it to happen. Daphne appeared to be crying, and Madison's lower lip was trembling. Legolas strung his bow and darted into the woods after Aragorn, and Gimli was hefting his axe. Gandalf and Tolkien shared a meaningful glance. Melody got to her feet and tucked her book into the bag slung over her shoulder, her honey-brown eyes very calm. Daphne and Madison also got up, and they went over to Isabella, who joined them readily. The four girls huddled close together, sharing a little time together before the Fellowship broke. They heard Michael snapping twigs in an effort to get over to them, and he looked just as deadly pale as they were.
Their moment was shattered by the grunt of a Uruk, fairly close, and Gandalf leapt into action. Gimli met the first one with the keen edge of his axe, swinging it with a modicum of effort and driving it into the belly of the Uruk. Gandalf's staff glowed brightly, and the blue crystal hummed vibrantly – a bolt of electricity shot out of the staff and sizzled into the next Uruk. As the Authors looked up, all of the girls screamed at once. There is nothing quite like seeing a Uruk up close, because not even in your wildest imagination could you conjure up such a beastly foe. They are huge, as tall as a fully grown man, with greasy yellow hair stretched damply over their blackened skin. Their faces are more like snouts, with ugly yellow-and-orange teeth gleaming with saliva as they roared brutish war cries, all of their fangs crowded together and hanging out of their purplish lips. Horrible orange eyes glowed in their sockets, grinning fiendishly as the surge of battle savaged their systems, rusty cutlasses and pikes clenched in their hands. Chain-mail armor hung over their heavy frames, and they sped forward, unmindful of the heavy weight. This particular Uruk had tattoos snaking up his arms and back, and white paint had been smeared across his forehead and cheeks. The girls shrieked as loud as only terrified women can shriek, and if it wasn't for Michael, all of them would have become Uruk soup within a matter of minutes. The Hispanic man bowled them out of the way, shoving them to the left and actually smacking Isabella on the lower back to get her moving. Madison appeared to be in a state of shock, and the Uruk made a grab for her – not with this sword, but with his hand, as though to snatch her and drag her away somewhere. Michael booted Madison from behind, causing her to shoot forward into the arms of Gandalf and taking her away from the Uruk.
Michael grabbed Boromir's dagger, the one he had left behind, and drove it with all the force he could muster into the Uruk's wrist. The beast howled with rage and swiped at Michael, knocking the air from his lungs with the flat of his blade, and sending him sprawling. A crackling bolt from Gandalf's staff sent the Uruk to the ground, never to rise, but there were more pouring into the clearing from all sides. Daphne snapped into action, her parent's military training bubbling to her mind. "Melody, Madison, get over there!" She shouted. "Michael, stop it, come with me! Isabella!" Daphne jerked the young girl to her feet and they took off into the woods. Michael was slower to leave – he seemed intent on stabbing each and every Uruk that came into the clearing. He heard Daphne's scream, and he turned, running over into the woods. Gandalf and Gimli were finishing off the Uruks, and Gimli was roaring down the path, shouting war cries. Gandalf paused, breathing hard, and looked at the Authors. Daphne was checking for wounds, and, finding none, looked at Gandalf. "Where's Tolkien?" she shouted.
Gandalf just looked at her. "He left," Daphne said, and then swore. "I'm going after him," she said. There was an instant chorus.
"No! You can't!
"It's stupid, let him be, he can take care of himself!"
"You'll kill yourself!"
"Don't be ridiculous!"
"I'm going after him," Daphne said, slamming her book into her pack and cramming a few loaves of lembas bread as well. "He's the Bookkeeper, and he needs an Author to go with him." She looked at them, and then hugged Madison fiercely. "Stay safe," she breathed in her ear. "Please. For me." Madison looked at her tearfully, dark blue eyes brimming with water. Daphne pressed a kiss into the crown of Isabella's head, a motherly notion that she did automatically. She squeezed Melody once, shaking her by her shoulders. "Don't steal anything you can't replace," she told her. She looked at Michael, and the man saw the spiky-haired blonde was crying. "Say – Say goodbye to him for me." She whispered. Michael knew who she meant.
"Don't, Daffy," he pleaded. She shook her head and backed up.
She took off at a full tilt in the direction Tolkien had taken, downstream, following the man she admired.
Melody and Madison followed Isabella and Michael through the woods, Michael running faster than anyone would have believed possible. They heard the sounds of battle getting louder and closer, the clashes of metal scraping metal, soft cries that were rapidly getting louder. They burst through the woods, onto the path, passing slaughtered bodies of Uruks, the dreary wet rain making everything slippery. The banks of the river were awash with blood, and they could hear the terrified shouts of the Hobbits as they cried for help. Michael came through the clearing first, dagger aloft, and began attacking the nearest Uruk. Melody didn't waste any time – she grabbed a rock, ripping it free from its mossy tethers, and began cudgeling the Uruks with the craggy rock. Boromir was amazing – his sword flashed wetly in the rain, seemingly everywhere at once, carving patterns in the air, slicing the heads off Uruks and driving through the armor of another in the same movement. Merry and Pippin were back to back, close to Boromir, and the Gondorian steward was doing his best to keep them protected. Michael closed his eyes when he heard the piercing whistle of an arrow striking through the air.
It connected with Boromir's chest, and the steward went white. He buckled, his jaw going slack, his blonde hair swinging in his face, and then he jerked himself upright, driving his sword into another Uruk. Michael changed directions, tears of fury blinding his eyes, and began charging the bowman. The white-painted Uruk sent another arrow into Boromir's stomach, and the steward fell to his knees, ashen cheeks colored by a stripe of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Michael screamed – actually screamed, an animal roar of pain and frustration as he tackled the bowman, knife in hand, just in time to feel the shuddering energy of the third arrow ripple through his body. It hit Boromir full on, and the steward was once more driven to his knees.
He got up.
Michael brought the dagger down hard.
He struck for Boromir!
He struck for the missing Tolkien!
He struck for the Authors!
He struck for the story he was going to save!
He struck for the Fellowship which was fighting with all its might!
He struck until his arm grew numb and the Uruk before him lay in a puddle of its own blood!
He wasn't even aware of Legolas dragging him from the Uruk, didn't know that his friends were running blindly through the scrub and trees, pursued by a purple tiger and a black wolf. The elf bade him to be still, and the forest grew quiet, the only noises coming from a dying Boromir. Michael skidded over to the steward's side, watching the older man give one last, guttural breath, saying a name so faintly it sounded like a sigh, one word which wore his love and passion for a woman who had never seen it – one word which told Michael everything, one name which told him exactly how deep his love had been for a woman who had been terrified of love itself:
"Daphne..."
Melody felt the paws slamming her hard into the dirt, tasted the filthy, gritty taste of mud in her mouth, accented with a coppery tang of her own blood. A hand – a perfect hand – darted out and captured a fistful of Melody's long blonde hair, jerking her upwards. "Not so pretty now, hmm?" Adavis sneered, ordering Shonji mentally to keep Melody pinned there. "Can't write when you're stuck, can you?" Adavis said, and brushed an ebony lock away from her perfect, heart-shaped face. By craning her neck at an uncomfortable angle, Melody saw Madison attempting to scramble up a tree, sobs of terror tearing from her throat. Circling the tree, licking its lips, was a huge black wolf with lazy yellow eyes. Vanima was perched on his back, crooning something in his ear, and Melody closed her eyes when she saw the wolf pounce. There was a long, dreadful shriek from Madison as she was forcibly torn down from the tree by her leg, the wolf's jaws clamped around her ankle, and she thudded hard on the ground. Shonji backed off of Melody, teeth closing around the nape of her neck – but gently, Melody noticed. His teeth didn't even leave marks as he hauled her upright, keeping her in place with his teeth. Adavis drew herself up like a queen and glared at Melody.
Smack!
Adavis's hand came stinging across her cheek, leaving a red imprint on her face. Shonji dropped Melody and growled something, a hideous snarl that drummed from his chest. Melody wasn't about to waste time – she kicked herself upright and drove an elbow into Adavis's stomach. "You want a piece of me?" Melody taunted. "Huh? You're not so tough when you have your pet tiger to keep me still, are you?" She smirked. Adavis's face went red, then white, then back to red, as her anger battled with her system. "C'mon, sissy," Melody jeered. "C'mon – what are you, scared? You're a Mary Sue – you're not scared of anything."
"Quilemna, Vanima, bind them," Adavis said, her jaw locked. "Put the other one on Zei's back and go. I'll take care of this...brat."
"Look whose talking!" Melody said, honey-brown eyes narrowed.
"Are you calling me a brat?" Adavis gasped.
"Well, if the dress fits," Melody said, a smirk curving her mouth, "then I suggest you wear it."
They pounced at the same moment, hands fisting hair, nails digging into cheeks, knees driving into chests. They grappled on the ground, rolling and tussling, Melody getting her butt thoroughly kicked by the Sue. Then, before either of them understood what was going on, Shonji was between them, a paw slamming on each chest, separating them. Enough! he roared. I have had enough of your petty struggles! Get on my back before I lose my temper and crunch your faces off!
"Shonji, let go!" Adavis said, wriggling.
No! I am fed up with your bossy attitude. Both of you, on my back – bind the Author up, Adavis, and we will leave. If either of you disobeys me, I shall not hesitate to tear your throats out. I will take great pleasure in doing so. Am I perfectly clear?
Tolkien heard her coming up behind him and paused, hooking his thumbs into his vest pockets. She broke through the bushes, her pack on her back, her blonde hair wild and mussed, silvery green eyes wide. "Tolkien!" she called out, and then ran over to him. He looked at her calmly, and she frowned. "Where are you going?"
"I have a Manuscript to find," Tolkien answered, and offered a little smile. "It is a task I must do alone, Daphne. I'm sorry."
She got a very obstinate look on her face, her mouth tightening and her eyes narrowing just a fraction. "No. I'm going with you."
"Daphne..."
"I'm serious! You're the Bookkeeper, and you're going to save the story. I'm going with you. We stick together. I'm committed to this, and now I'm going to see it through." Daphne said firmly. Tolkien looked at her for a long moment, then laughed bitterly.
"Stubborn young girl," he said with something akin to affection. "I was hoping you would stay with me. We have a lot of work to do."
"What's the Manuscript?" Daphne asked. Tolkien spared a hurried glance over his shoulder, towards the sounds of battle.
"I'll explain on the way. All I can say is this: If you're really serious about coming with me, love, you might risk your life. You might be written out of this story and you might suffer a great deal of pain on this quest. How much are you willing to sacrifice for this story?"
"Anything," Daphne said without hesitation. "Absolutely anything."
Tolkien didn't see a growing young woman – he saw the makings of an Authoress standing before him.
They began their quest, together. If they died, they would die for the story.
~End Of Book One~
COMING SOON!
The Two Suethors
Daphne and Tolkien are on a suicidal mission to find the Manuscript while Melody and Madison are locked in Isengard. Meanwhile, Isabella and Michael are following the broken Fellowship to finish the story, and hopefully save the world.