A/N: Third chapter! Yayness! And thanks to Tiara D'Cullen for pointing that out. I have now gone back and edited out most of the profanity. xD Enjoy, but the T rating still stands. 'Cos that's how I roll.
Disclaimer: I no sell. You no sue.
She came to suddenly and abruptly, quite unlike all of the old movies she had seen, in which the heroine gently awakens with many a fluttering eyelash and a rosy cheek. In reality, Amy woke up like someone had pinched her quite firmly on the nose, and now that she was awake the days events came flooding back to her. She resisted the urge to cry - after all, being the middle child of nine, she was made of stronger stuff! - and instead got up. The men who had found her had evidently laid her off to one side so she could rest in her own time, for she could hear low murmurs some feet away. Judging by the color of the sky, it was close to the middle of the night, and the stars were as thick and bright as a field of poppies. They formed unknown constellations and figures, and it was this more than anything else that convinced Amy she wasn't in her own world any more. She had spent a long time in her backyard with a few of her siblings studying the stars, telling about the constellations and stories that were behind them. But now, she was in a different place, with different stars. It smelled different here too; the air was sharper, cleaner somehow. No pollutants, Amy reminded herself. At least not yet. Eventually, machines and technology would overrun this world and it would be as industrialized and impersonal as her own world was. This saddened her, for the sight of such raw, majestic beauty - such as the bright stars - would eventually be dimmed by smog and pollutants. She looked down at her feet and realized someone had taken off her shoes. She crept closer to the fire and heard three voices, one deep and smooth, like a vat of chocolate, the other gruff and businesslike, the third slightly weary and cracked with age. The first voice was speaking in a slightly muffled way, as if he were speaking around a pipe. Amy realized with some surprise that this must be the roguish-looking man who had restrained Lizzie from mauling the "elf" thing.
"We cannot jeopardize our quest in any way. These women obviously have no knowledge of our world. If Lady Elizabeth is being honest with us, they come from a different world and time. How can we allow these women to come with us when they have no survival skills and cannot contribute to our journey in any way? If we fail in our quest the entirety of Middle Earth will plunge into confusion, slaughter and chaos." He sounded very tired, like this was a point he had been making all night. Evidently they had questioned Lizzie, because Liz almost never gave out her full name. She hated it, and even her parents called her Lizzie. Amy quieted her thoughts when she heard a murmur of agreement from the cracked old voice, and the gruff voice spoke up.
"And yet, we cannot leave these women alone. You've been saying so yourself, Aragorn, these ladies have no way to survive out here in the open. Not only would we risk our honor by allowing them to be abandoned out in the wilderness with Saruman's spies haunting our steps, but they would most certainly die. If they have any kin back where they come from, why, we could be hailed as murderers. It would be certain death to abandon them alone and unarmed out in a place they know naught of." His voice was gruff, with a certain brogue to it that Amy liked. He sounded like her father, in some way; a hard, serious exterior with a mellow heart of gold. His words twisted in a pleasant way when he said "open", almost as if a Scottish accent had been painted along his syllables.
"Master Gimli is correct," said the third voice, this one much more tired and slightly cracked with years. "We cannot abandon them, yet we cannot allow them to accompany us. We must compromise; if Boromir is willing, we shall bring them as close as we can to Gondor and they shall make the last leg of the journey by themselves. If they arrive bringing the Steward's son's crest, they shall have a warm welcome and a good place to stay. That is our only option, gentlemen. Our hands are bound."
Amy had to do something. So far, she knew they were talking about her friends, and two of them were named Gimli and Aragorn. She crept a little closer to the fire and stepped on a twig. Gimli, who she now discovered was the dwarf with the bushy beard, instantly reached for his axe, then relaxed when he saw who it was. Amy offered a little half smile to the men and came a little closer. Normally, she would have felt ridiculous talking in the middle of the night with three men whom she didn't even know properly, but this was by no means a normal day. She tucked her feet under her and knelt on her hands, which was a common position she assumed when she was nervous, such as now. She lifted her green eyes from the fire for a brief moment and appealed to Gimli. "I'm sorry for eavesdropping," she began. "But I can't help but overhear what you said. Um, can I just put something in? I don't mean to be rude, or anything, but, well, my friends and I are pretty much useless. It's like Mr. Gimli said, we can't survive. The only person who might make it to Gondor or wherever you want to put us would be Sam, and she's wounded. Oh, is she all right?" she asked, suddenly thinking of her friend. She must sound like an insensitive wart for not thinking of Sam earlier, but she had been so intent on listening to what they were going to do with them that it had slipped her mind completely.
Aragorn looked at the girl with something like sympathy. She seemed different from her other friends, more mature, quieter, more sensible. But she also seemed very meek and timid, whereas her injured friend was loud, brash, and obviously the leader. If Aragorn remembered correctly, her name was Amy, although he wasn't sure how accurate Lady Elizabeth had been with them. She had been glowering at Legolas the whole time, which caused the poor elf to nearly curse her out in Elvish. But the blonde prince had reined himself in and turned in early, leaving Gimli, Gandalf and Aragorn to figure out where the women would go. Turning his mind back to Amy, he studied her. Her hands were soft, and all of their clothes were of some elegant, strange material that was finely crafted. He had asked Lady Elizabeth if they had been princesses in their world, and the blonde girl had merely laughed bitterly and denied it. Studying her now, he realized that his estimation was a little off the mark. None of the women, except perhaps the blonde, were beautiful enough to be of high birth. They didn't have the nobility or the poise of princesses, especially the brunette they called Sam, and the redheaded girl was too short and plain to be a princess. Oh, they all had their charms, but compared to the fine Elvish women Aragorn had seen, they were positively dowdy.
"Lady Samantha will recover. Her injuries were quite mild, but I am sure her pain was most severe for her." This came from the long-bearded man who had also been smoking a pipe earlier. He gave a little smile to Amy and gestured with his hand. "Your, ah, passionate friend Lady Elizabeth is also doing well." he said wryly. Amy also made a little face and she ducked her chin.
"Yeah. Sorry about that, but Lizzie can be kind of…impulsive." She thought for a second, then her brows drew together in a slightly severe expression. "Your friend did shoot Sam. That was mean. He could have killed her!"
When Amy heard the gentle voice directly behind her she almost fell over. She had no idea how someone could sneak up that quietly and make no noise as Amy had been talking. "I am sincerely sorry for your friend's injuries, but I do think she will recover. I was merely protecting my kinsmen, and I could not see very well in the fog. You have my humblest and most sincere apologies, Lady Amy." She turned around so fast she almost cricked her neck, and saw the blonde "elf" crouching behind her. He did look very sorry, and his blue eyes were very somber. Now that she had a chance to look at him properly, she saw the tipped points of his ears had no line where the plastic peak ended and the real ear began. Her heart skipped a beat and a half when she realized he was an actual elf.
"Don't…do that," she mumbled, one hand still pressed against her chest in an attempt to calm her racing heart. "How…no, wait, never mind. Are you a real elf?" she asked almost shyly. He cocked one eyebrow, but didn't seem very surprised. Evidently he got this a lot. She could have sworn one corner of his mouth flicked upwards in a brief smile, but it was gone again as soon as she blinked.
"Aye, that I am." he said. He joined Aragorn by the opposite side of the fire, and steepled his fingers as he watched the dancing flames. "I have been listening, as Lady Amy has, to your conversation. I do not like Gandalf's suggestion, and yet I do believe we have no choice. We must bring the women with us for the time being, at least until we reach a safe area where we may buy them lodging. There is no other option." There was a long silence after his speech, and then Gandalf expelled a heavy sigh.
"So be it. We shall bring the ladies with us until we reach a safe place. Lady Amy, I would ask you to return to bed at once. I would like to discuss something with Aragorn." He said it politely, but Amy had the impression that he was, as nicely as possible, telling her to butt out because they had manly things to discuss. This was a common enough happening in her household, mostly because there were five boys and four girls. Her sisters were constantly being told to get out of conversations and suchlike. So she bit back the urge to sigh and insist that she stay, and instead got up and left.
Lizzie was awake and propped up on her elbow when Amy came back. "So?" she asked. Her voice was a hushed whisper, yet she still managed to contain a slight irk in that one word. Obviously she hadn't had her fill of scratching Legolas's eyes out. Amy crawled onto the sleeping roll that had been commissioned to her. It was very thin, and she could feel every pebble that was underneath her. She wouldn't be able to sleep on this, and there was nothing else to do but to talk to Lizzie, so she managed to turn over and face her blonde friend. Even now, Amy grudgingly admired her friend's looks. Somehow Lizzie managed to keep relatively clean, and she looked positively sparkling compared with Amy's dirt smeared cheeks and bloodied clothes and hands.
"From what I've heard, their names are Aragorn, Gandalf, Legolas and Gimli," she said. "And they want to drop us off at some place called Gondor. And we're in a place called Middle Earth." She didn't expect Lizzie to react quite so dramatically as all that, but Lizzie nearly shot out of her sleeping roll and only managed to rein in her loud gasp by clapping a hand over her mouth. "What?" Amy asked irritably. "What is it? You look like you've just seen a ghost."
"We're in Middle Earth?" Lizzie said disbelievingly. "Like, Lord of the Rings? Tolkien? Oh, my God! We're in Lord of the Rings! That's so wild!" she was quickly becoming louder, and Amy hissed at her to settle down.
"Tolkien wrote another series?" Amy asked, confused. "I read The Hobbit and The Silmarillion. I remember hearing about it. So you've read them?" As soon as she asked it, she knew what a dumb question it was. Lizzie never read anything unless psychically forced, except for gossip magazines. The blonde rolled her eyes.
"No, duh! I watched the movies. They had Elijah Woods, Orlando Bloom, and Viggo Mortensen! Great cast, and Orlando was so hot in it!" Lizzie said, and Amy saw she was about to give her a blow-by-blow account of all the epic "hawtness" scenes.
"Never mind who was in it, Lizzie, what happened?" Amy interrupted. "How did the movie go?" Lizzie made a face at Amy, who smacked herself in the forehead. "Don't tell me. You don't remember."
"It was a long time ago," Lizzie whined. "I remember some stuff. There was this really hot guy who rode on a horse, and there was this evil dude who had a huge sword, and something about a ring, and elves. I remember that. Oh, and this epic scene where this lady, like, made this whole river go kafloosh! Knocking over a whole bunch of these, like, black knights or something. And the soundtrack was really good. I think it won an award for that, actually," Lizzie looked thoughtful. Amy looked horrified.
"You mean we're in a movie you only dimly remember? And the only parts you remember are when there was a really hot guy in it? I don't believe this, Liz! We're screwed! Epically and totally screwed! You couldn't even remember the basic plot? Not even a little bit? For crying out loud!" Amy flopped back on her bedroll and stared at the glittering expanse of stars. She heard Lizzie roll over on her side, and she knew instinctively that she was pouting. Sulking, probably, with her lower lip quivering and her eyes all damp with tears. It was Lizzie's trademark Whiny-Face.
"I do remember something. There was this guy, Elijah Wood, who played some kind of midget, and he had to throw this ring or whatever into this big volcano. And he got a finger bitten off. I remember that. It was pretty nasty, actually." she said reflectively. "But don't worry. We'll just let the movie play out, and we'll be fine. Trust me."
Amy decided not to trust her airhead of a friend any farther than she could throw her. She closed her eyes, still seeing the beautiful stars in her minds' eye, and remembered one thought as she fell asleep. We're doomed. We're doomed. We're doomed.