Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings or its characters.
New Author's Notes: The story hasn't changed, I'm just adding some notes and correcting some grammatical errors. Thanks everyone for the reviews, I really appreciate them. I have some questions.Iif anyone would be interested in responding, it would really help me out: 1. Was anything particularly unbelievable or didn't seem to fit? 2. Should there have been a love scene before the last page? 3. I tried to make Kalin seem like a very strong, positive person, but I seem to have her crying quite a lot. Does she seem strong to you, or is she too weepy?
Thanks!
Names I made up from the elvish appendix to ROTK and what they mean (I think): Kalin - "shining" and "deep pool" Tirendil - "watch over" and "devotion" Malach - doesn't mean anything
Pg. 1
How long she had lain in the dark and the cold she did not know. Dimly she had been aware of her mind struggling, as if in a fog, between the seductive promise of rest and oblivion, and the uncertainty of a cruel struggle to live. Kalin had always embraced life as a precious gift, and by her nature chose to (see the bright side of everything), but she was now terribly afraid to face what might be waiting for her should she awaken. How peaceful it was here, how restful and calm. In the end it was her sense of duty, of an oath given and not to be broken, that gave her the strength to return. Rising partially out of her mind's haze she slowly became aware that she was cold, dazed, and in utter pain. So much so that she had drifted away once more before, how much later she couldn't guess, she felt herself lying face-down on the hard ground with the taste of dirt and blood in her mouth. Then, eyes still closed, she had made the error of attempting to turn her head. Pain like daggers struck her temple as she shifted against the hard rock that lay beneath her head. Gritting her teeth, she extended her hands and dragged her head to one side where the ground felt softer. Gasping with the effort and being rewarded with another sharp stab of pain in her forehead, she waited until her breath came more evenly, and slowly opened her eyes. The night was pitch black. Closing her eyes again and shivering with the cold and damp, she flexed her feet, then her legs, and so on until she established that she was quite stiff and bruised, but not further damaged. Only when she tried to rise did her head explode into dozens of white stabbing lights beneath her eyelids and make her feel that she would retch .
Realizing that if she continued to lie there in the cold she would die after all, if she wasn't attacked by some predator first, Kalin struggled to her hands and knees and then sat back dizzily, carefully raised up her head, tensed for the inevitable stab of pain. This time it wasn't quite so bad, and her mind cleared a little more.
Wait! Where was Malach? Where was her horse, her pack, the precious bow and quiver of arrows that she had sworn to present to Lord Celeborn from her own hand, and why was it so accursedly black all around her? Was she in a cave?
"Malach?" she whispered hoarsely. "Malach!" There was not the echo of a cave, and there was no answer. Kalin began to panic. Now memories began to come back to her in pieces: The two of them on the trail in the coming dusk, with the moon rising. Malach shouting "Flee, Kalin! There are too many - run!" as he had struck her horse's flanks sharply, causing her mount to rear and then bolt. He had known that she would not leave him of her own volition. Kalin hanging on desperately as her mount flew away, out of control, turning to see Malach as three dark figures on horseback descended upon him from the rocky bank that rose close along one side of the trail. "Malach!!!" she had screamed, sobbing, as she was helplessly carried away from her lifelong friend. Then, her horse careening down off the trail on the other side, stumbling. Falling, she remembered falling...
As these memories flooded back, she reasoned to herself that she was not in a cave, she was outside, somewhere near the trail. Malach was gone and possibly dead. Her horse was gone. Everything was gone, and she was completely and utterly blind.
New Author's Notes: The story hasn't changed, I'm just adding some notes and correcting some grammatical errors. Thanks everyone for the reviews, I really appreciate them. I have some questions.Iif anyone would be interested in responding, it would really help me out: 1. Was anything particularly unbelievable or didn't seem to fit? 2. Should there have been a love scene before the last page? 3. I tried to make Kalin seem like a very strong, positive person, but I seem to have her crying quite a lot. Does she seem strong to you, or is she too weepy?
Thanks!
Names I made up from the elvish appendix to ROTK and what they mean (I think): Kalin - "shining" and "deep pool" Tirendil - "watch over" and "devotion" Malach - doesn't mean anything
Pg. 1
How long she had lain in the dark and the cold she did not know. Dimly she had been aware of her mind struggling, as if in a fog, between the seductive promise of rest and oblivion, and the uncertainty of a cruel struggle to live. Kalin had always embraced life as a precious gift, and by her nature chose to (see the bright side of everything), but she was now terribly afraid to face what might be waiting for her should she awaken. How peaceful it was here, how restful and calm. In the end it was her sense of duty, of an oath given and not to be broken, that gave her the strength to return. Rising partially out of her mind's haze she slowly became aware that she was cold, dazed, and in utter pain. So much so that she had drifted away once more before, how much later she couldn't guess, she felt herself lying face-down on the hard ground with the taste of dirt and blood in her mouth. Then, eyes still closed, she had made the error of attempting to turn her head. Pain like daggers struck her temple as she shifted against the hard rock that lay beneath her head. Gritting her teeth, she extended her hands and dragged her head to one side where the ground felt softer. Gasping with the effort and being rewarded with another sharp stab of pain in her forehead, she waited until her breath came more evenly, and slowly opened her eyes. The night was pitch black. Closing her eyes again and shivering with the cold and damp, she flexed her feet, then her legs, and so on until she established that she was quite stiff and bruised, but not further damaged. Only when she tried to rise did her head explode into dozens of white stabbing lights beneath her eyelids and make her feel that she would retch .
Realizing that if she continued to lie there in the cold she would die after all, if she wasn't attacked by some predator first, Kalin struggled to her hands and knees and then sat back dizzily, carefully raised up her head, tensed for the inevitable stab of pain. This time it wasn't quite so bad, and her mind cleared a little more.
Wait! Where was Malach? Where was her horse, her pack, the precious bow and quiver of arrows that she had sworn to present to Lord Celeborn from her own hand, and why was it so accursedly black all around her? Was she in a cave?
"Malach?" she whispered hoarsely. "Malach!" There was not the echo of a cave, and there was no answer. Kalin began to panic. Now memories began to come back to her in pieces: The two of them on the trail in the coming dusk, with the moon rising. Malach shouting "Flee, Kalin! There are too many - run!" as he had struck her horse's flanks sharply, causing her mount to rear and then bolt. He had known that she would not leave him of her own volition. Kalin hanging on desperately as her mount flew away, out of control, turning to see Malach as three dark figures on horseback descended upon him from the rocky bank that rose close along one side of the trail. "Malach!!!" she had screamed, sobbing, as she was helplessly carried away from her lifelong friend. Then, her horse careening down off the trail on the other side, stumbling. Falling, she remembered falling...
As these memories flooded back, she reasoned to herself that she was not in a cave, she was outside, somewhere near the trail. Malach was gone and possibly dead. Her horse was gone. Everything was gone, and she was completely and utterly blind.