You know, darkness isn't really conductive to thought.  Sheesh; of all the things… "In the darkness I sit, surrounded by nothing except my thoughts."  That would make a good start to a book.  It would rapidly be followed by "How came I to be here?"  It's a good question.  Not something that can be answered readily, for I know not the answer.  I remember nothing.  Told you that darkness really wasn't conductive to thought.

            Time currently hasn't got any meaning.  Seconds, minutes…all the same…only the endless stretch of nothing that's surrounding me.  It's bloody dark.  Did I mention that I have dick-all capacity of night vision?  It's a pisser.

            Okay, I lied.  I remember the battle.  How could I forget that?  It's a farking battle!  Anyway, we – Fiona and I – charged the battlefield with our fierce cry, resounding against the sharp rock walls of Orodruin, striking fear into the heart of the Orcs gathered to oppose the Alliance.

            Okay…so 'Boobinator' isn't really a fierce cry.  But the Orcs didn't know that.

            Ah…more memories.  Battles suck.  If ever you find yourself stuck in Middle-earth, try your damnedest not to get caught up in a battle.  It's not worth it.  Epic adventure rules say otherwise, but take it from me.  Avoid them!

            I don't know where Fiona – my twin of sprit – is, nor what fate she has suffered.  I awoke in this dark place.  Dungeons of Barad-dûr, perhaps?  It's certainly possible.  I mean, we did run full tilt at the damn thing, screaming our silly scream, the only word that came to our shared minds.  But if darkness is all they are…I can handle darkness.  Not too sure about torture, but darkness I can do.  For now.

            You know, talking to you – shadows, myself, whatever you are – is bringing back a whole bunch of memories.  I think I almost remember how this whole thing started.  Hmmm…

            I remember…oh yes.  Fe – that's Fiona – and I got it into our heads that we were going to join the Alliance and throw ourselves into glory and honour on the battle field, each felling a thousand orcs, coming out heroes, and then writing our experiences into the best fanfic ever to grace the internet.  Only one problem:  We're girls.

            In modern times, this wouldn't be a problem, ours being the century of tolerance and equal rights.  But no!  This is Middle-earth!  Home of Sexism Anonymous.  You see, girls here cook and clean and do stuff like that.  Except Eowyn, Arwen and Galadriel, of course.  Pretty much, they're the only ones anyone ever hears about. 

            At any rate, Fe and I figured we'd make the most of it, because there really wasn't anything else to do.  I mean, after all that wishing and praying to get to Middle-earth, we end up in a time when the world is about to end.  Doesn't that just suck?  I'm sure, that if the world as these people knew it wasn't about to end, there'd be lots of other things to do.  Travel the country side, live in Rivendell…hook ourselves up with some damn hot Elves…

            Come to think of it, Elrond's pretty damn cute.  Bit of a hankering for purple, but…I like purple.  And it suits his eyes.  Very grey, they are.  Like stormy seas…

            Really though…I think Fe's got a hankering for Gil-galad.  Can't say that I blame her.  He is pretty damned sexy, what with that whole kingly dignity, nobility and richness going on.  So's Glorfindel; hot damn, is he beautiful!  I sure hope to hell that he's not gay.

            Never let it be said that girls don't go for older men. 

            So…you must all be wondering how we got to Middle-earth in the first place.  Well, now that my memory's actually coming back, it's a long and involved story, that tells of fanfiction, chocolate, and a transport truck.  Actually, it's not that long and involved, but it was caused by fanfiction, chocolate and a transport truck.

            Fe and I are best friends.  You won't find a pair closer than us except for conjoined twins.  We practically are conjoined twins.  Except for the fact that we're not actually related in any way. 

            I, though you wouldn't know it to look at me – hah! – am actually the elder.  By five months, exactly to the day.  Of course, Fe's got all the height, Elf-like grace – riiiiight – and blondness of the pair of us, and me, I'm short and brunette, like Welsh people are supposed to be.  Whatever.  Point is we're as close as identical twins can be without the physical twinning.  And we were born on separate sides of the world.  But that is beside the point.

A/N:  There is more…don't worry.  We wouldn't leave you hanging…that wouldn't be nice…hee hee hee hee hee!!! 

    ~Lai