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Old 11-02-2006, 02:45 PM   #41
Celuien
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What on earth? Bad luck?

Becca hadn't been expecting that answer from the children. She knew, of course, that black cats were supposed to be unlucky, but didn't think that anyone took the idea seriously. She didn't. If anything, Midnight had brought her only good luck since the day two years earlier when Becca picked a tiny jet black kitten from a neighbor's litter. She scratched behind the cat's ears and Midnight nestled her head into the crook of Becca's arm, purring.

The children looked more nervous by the moment.

"Black cats bad luck." Becca shook her head. "I suppose you think I'm a witch too."

The girl looked more startled than if she had been caught with her hand in a cookie jar. "Ye-n-n-n-no," she stammered.

It was Becca's turn to be startled. Startled and amused at the silly notions in the girl's head. The corner of her mouth twitched, hinting at a grin despite her irritation.

"Now that's just silly. Hmmph. What's your name?"

Terror entered the girl's face. "R-r-r-a--v-ven...and this is my brother Tucker." Becca forced herself to stifle a chuckle. Raven wasn't about to give her name without making sure that her brother was identified too.

"Well, Raven and Tucker. Though I'm sure we're almost neighbors, we don't seem to know each other very well. That's a shame, but it seems the way of the city these days. I can tell you that I'm harmless and that Midnight is the sweetest cat who ever lived, but I have a feeling you won't take my word for it. What do I have to do to fix that?"

Last edited by Celuien; 11-04-2006 at 09:34 PM.
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Old 11-02-2006, 09:35 PM   #42
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After she had gotten over the fact that he hadn’t noticed it, she decided it was probably better to climb down rather than be stuck up in a tree all night, “besides, Jacinta, you’re not the sort to wait in a tree all night. You’re the kind who’d much rather chat with you’re friends, no matter-AYAZ!” she yelled, as her boot slipped and she hung upside down, bending upwards, frantically trying to keep her skirt from turning upsidedown. Her foot was caught between two branches, and she was still a good four or five feet from the ground.

Her palms began to sweat, a shiver went down her spine and fear’s icy fingers took hold of the back of her throat. “Okay, Jacinta, don’t panic, what ever you do, don’t panic.” She whispered to herself and started to think logically, whispering the thoughts to herself as she did so, “If I move my leg, so much as an inch, I’m dead, well, fallen out of the tree and down onto the next few branches then on the ground…and the other branches are too weak to support me, other than the one right below my head…better to call for help than to stay up here all night trapped in a tree. HELP ME!!” She called out into the night, causing a bird that had not noticed her before, suddenly cry out and fly off into the night sky.
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Old 11-04-2006, 09:40 AM   #43
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Aiwendil turned towards the young woman and smiled gently. He did not look surprised, only tired and resigned. "You may be right, my friend, or perhaps you are just talking to a batty old man who clings to half muddled stories and forgotten dreams. But you are the only one who can weigh what we have said and try to see what lies behind the words. Words are important, very important, yet they can only take you to a certain point. It is the truth behind the words that we must try to hear and remember." Under his breath, the old man muttered to himself that this was something Master Tolkien with his great affection for words had not said clearly enough. Aiwendil waggled a finger at the woman and then went on to explain, "I come to the city but once a year. There were other years when I spoke with someone living here, and they heard my words and understood a little. But the next morning, by the time the sun arose, they had forgotten my name, who I was, and everything else I had told them. So try to remember Darlariel, Try to remember the meaning that lies underneath the words."

As Aiwendil finished up his little speech, the two stood in front of the New Ford Library. It looked dark and foreboding. The front door was securely locked, and the old man could not even see any hint of movement in the bushes. "They must be around the back," Aiwendil muttered to Darlariel, but did not bother explaining who "they" might be.

"Follow me if you like. I am meeting someone . Yet I must warn you. I am not all that sure what is inside. Usually, the library is a warm, safe place filled with books and memories. Perhaps it will be so tonight as well. But Hedwig has heard that strange things may be going on." Here Aiwendil nodded at the owl before continuing, "I don't care for danger myself. I prefer peace and quiet and the company of birds who sing their tunes amid the forest trees. Still, the world is the world, and sometimes fears must be faced. This seems to be one of those times. But the choice to go forward or turn back must be yours alone."

Without stopping to wait for her answer, the istar strode forward and, with an easy grace surprising in one his age, climbed the old iron fence, thrust his body over, and landed safely in the back garden. Hedwig flew up and over the fence in one swift bound.

Inching forward in the dark, Aiwendil whispered huskily, "Jack, is that you? I am here, and I am afraid Hedwig has brought me some bad news." Two shadowy figures stood under a tree just a few paces in front of the wizard. "Let's go inside and I'll explain," the old man urged. "Safer there than here. But who is that with you? And how are we going to get inside?"

Last edited by Child of the 7th Age; 11-04-2006 at 09:56 AM.
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Old 11-04-2006, 01:59 PM   #44
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Darlariel listened to the old man fascinated. Never had someone spoken such words of wisdom to her. Not in the real world, anyway. When she read The Lord of the Rings-and that would happen quite often-she fancied she heard the characters talking near her. And their voices sounded just like Aiwendil's-soft, gentle, yet also persuasive, as if urging her to understand. She knew quite welll what Aiwendil meant when he told her about the meaning behind the words. Yet she could never explain that meaning save only through blurred visions and dreams.

She remembered a dream she had once had, not a very long time ago. She was sitting on the grass of a sunny glade with Aragorn. And he was talking to her, in the same deep and gentle voice that Aiwendil had used with her. When she had woken up, she could not remember what he had said, save only that his words had been full of wisdom and comfort. Even now when she thought of that dream she felt her heart invaded with peace and joy. Yet also, there was a pang of sorrow, and the beginning of a great emptyness. She could not recall his words. She had tried many times to bring back into her mind if only a sentence from that conversation, yet it had all been in vain. Would it be so this time also? But no, she would not let it happen. And plus, this was not a dream. She was wide awake. Or was she?


They had stopped in front of the library. Aiwendil then began talking of something she could not quite comprehend. He spoke of danger and of choices. She felt puzzled about what he had said, so puzzled that she had little time to realise that he had headed to the back entrence without waiting for her. She ran after him, and caught up just in time to see him jumping over the huge fence with an agility that was amazing at a man his age.

Darlariel frowned. Entering a deserted yard near midnight on Haloween was not exactly what she felt like doing. Who knew what struggle would take place there, or what creature of darkness had found refuge in that place? She had never considered herself a warrior, she could not even fight with someone from her world, let alone some unknown peril that Aiwendil was now ready to face. Maybe she should turn away and go back to the safety of her home.

Yet she found out that she could not. Not now, not when she knew who her aquaintance was. She would not turn back, and risk turning this meeting into a dream, an unsure vision of a much too troubled soul. Not matter the cost, no matter what lay in store for her. Therefore, she too climbed over the fence and ran after Aiwendil. She saw that he was now accompanied by two figures but she did not care. She ran until she reached him and spoke to him in a quiet, yet pleading voice:

"I do not know what lies there. I am sure I have little power against it. Yet I cannot turn back. I am afraid but I cannot turn back. Please, please let me go with you. If my thoughts have indeed told you so many things about me, then I have no doubt you will unerstand me and let me come with you."
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Old 11-04-2006, 04:28 PM   #45
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Jack stepped forward from the shadows as Aiwendil approached. ‘An old friend,’ he said. At least for this little span of life allotted her he went on, speaking mind to mind with the old man. ‘Gilli, the fiddler. We were just about….’

Before he could show where the entryway was, another figure….a girl, slender and fair came running up. All out of breath from exertion and a little fear, too, it seemed. And quite in a rush to assure Aiwendil of her intent, and her need, to carry through.

‘I do not know what lies there. I am sure I have little power against it,' the girl said. 'Yet I cannot turn back. I am afraid but I cannot turn back. Please, please let me go with you. If my thoughts have indeed told you so many things about me, then I have no doubt you will understand me and let me come with you.’

And aren’t you the naughty wizard! Jack’s eyes glimmered with amusement. Reading her thoughts were you! Recruiting her for some adventure on this night?

Jack looked the newcomer up and down. She was comely enough he thought, looking at her in a mortal’s way. So young looking. Though, if he looked a little closer he thought there was the shadow of some old sorrow sat heavy on her brow.

Plucking out the two slender volumes he’d put in his coat pocket, Jack tucked them securely beneath his arm. ‘Well, I suppose we should be heading in before anyone else shows up, eh?’ He cocked his head and grinned at Hedwig. ‘You don’t have some feathered friend you want to come along, do you?’

Jack led the little group around to the rear of the building. There was a short paved driveway leading down to a small loading dock where the library took in shipments of books or sent them out for any major repairs. To the left of it was a heavy metal door with the tag on – Staff Only, and next to it a small metal box with buttons.

‘Let’s see,’ he said, running the fingers of his right hand lightly over the numbered and lettered keypad. 03J92 he tapped out, listening closely for the familiar click. There was none. He screwed up his mouth. ‘Ah! The woman’s changed it! Clever git!’ He turned round to the others. ‘Tis a game we play. The head librarian and I. She’s a fan of The Professor. Now, let me think, let me think.’ He rubbed his forehead as if the act might prise some hint of the new code.

ScullHammond came next – the door remained firmly locked. Followed by Snergs and next, Hurin in the off-chance the woman was looking ahead. No hint of tumblers sliding back could be heard. Cellardoor? No!

Then his fingers tried out a long ago password. Delighted laughter spilled from his lips as the handle turned and the door opened to the old six-lettered word.

‘Well, come on in, m’lord, m’ladies!’ Jack said, holding the door open for the others. He made a sweeping bow, his right hand gesturing toward the dim lit basement room.

The librarian had left a small light on at the far end of the room for him. Jack smiled and dug deep into his pants’ pocket, searching out the small green jewel he’d brought for her this time.

Last edited by Undómë; 11-04-2006 at 04:32 PM.
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Old 11-04-2006, 09:29 PM   #46
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Tonight is especially important to me, maybe more important then Christmas. When the veil is thinnest, it seems I can feel things that people can't or things they choose to ignore. I call them 'things' because I don't even know what they are. Ghosts, spirits, the memories and feelings of a past life. A gift my spirit carries granted by the powers that be. Was I meant for something in this world?

I've always felt like I don't belong. This isn't my time, I cannot tolerate humans, my heart is numb and sick. Have I lost something , am I not human like them? What am I, there is something inside i can feel it gnawing away.

The red head looked up from her reverie her bangs almost in her eyes. A grey wizard and a blue wizard laughing alongside eachother. Children. One was even wearing the quintessential bluish-grey pointed felt hat.

She smiled at their innocence, happily shovelling sugar into their faces, more then likely not even knowing what this night was intended for. She left food and water out for the deceased before she left her house for the evening, a custom to ease their passing in mortal lands.

All Barrow's Eve was a mingling of emotion to be sure. Sadness and mirth, she could be both. Questioning one's self was not all together a bad thing. Her long leg swung out in front of the other. The woman's graceful body turned into the tight corner of an alley way, her thick mane of hair flagging out behind her.

Her pale complexion disappeared into the darkness like a phantom. All the while smiling to herself the way she did when no one was looking. The sudden threat of realization made her stop, the tingling of others. "Help me!", the voice of a living girl.

It came from the end of the clutterd alley. She hurried her pace finely hopping over a misplaced garbage bag to find a girl hanging haphazardly by one leg from a tree. She cocked her head to the side and stared at the girl a moment a grin of subtle amusement on her face.

Last edited by Esgallhugwen; 11-07-2006 at 12:36 AM.
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Old 11-05-2006, 05:23 PM   #47
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littlemanpoet is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.littlemanpoet is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.
Sid cleared his throat. "Uh, Becca, ma'am, all the kids think you're a witch because of your cat. If you invite them into your house for a cup of cider, they're sure they'll be thrown in your oven."

Raven's and Tucker's eyes widened, as if Sid had 'hit the nail on the head'.

"Well that's just plain silly," Becca said.

"Mebbe," Sid said, "these little hobbits ought to just go trick-or-treating some more and leave off cat stealing. Here, I'll show you two the way. I'm Aragorn son of Arathorn. You're safe with me."
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Old 11-06-2006, 05:51 PM   #48
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Raven's suspicion turned from the stern lady to this Aragorn. "Is that your real name, or are you trying to trick us, too?" she asked. She knew of a story with an Aragorn in it, but he was a heroic king. This skinny boy was allied with the strict old lady.

"Well, it's my real name for tonight," he said.

Raven frowned. What kind of answer was that? "What's your real name? Mum said we weren't supposed to listen to strangers."

He was starting to look the way Dad did when she asked too many questions - exasperated Mum called it. That was a big word. Raven giggled. "Sid," he said.

She giggled again. "Sidagorn. Arasid." She thought for a moment. "Okay. You can come with us. But you can't tell us what to do. And -" she gestured for him to stoop down so she could whisper in his ear, "Make the witch lady go away."
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Old 11-06-2006, 09:29 PM   #49
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littlemanpoet is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.littlemanpoet is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.
This little nip of a girl was trying to give him orders! Make the witch lady go away!? Sid couldn't keep from retorting.

"She's not a witch, silly! She's a nice lady who gave you candy and you stole her nice little cat! She's not even old so she can't be a witch! Come on!"

He looked back to Becca who was petting her cat, a smirk on her face. "Sorry about these kids. I guess they just don't know any better."

Sid tried to get Raven and Tucker to follow him back to the street but they just stood there.

"You'll miss out on all the caaaannnnndeeeeee!"

That got them going. They started running back to the street. Sid waved to Becca and she waved back. She really was a nice lady. Sid decided that he would stop by and say 'hullo' some time.

Last edited by littlemanpoet; 11-07-2006 at 08:29 PM.
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Old 11-07-2006, 12:35 AM   #50
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The tall girl made her way over to the tree. She pressed her long fingered palm up against it's bark. Please don't let me fall.

She hesitated for an instant then attempted to grab the nearest branch. "Too short", she jumped up pulling her leg up against the tree while extending her arm again. This time she caught hold kicking her foot out into a knotted clump of bark she inched herself along until she was sitting atop one of the stronger limbs of the tree.

"Almost there", she half whispered to herself, closing the gap between them was easy. "I'm terribly sorry but it just occured to me I actually have no clue as to how to get you down from here".

She looked about thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing as a thought struck her. "I shall return shortly" while she climbed down the tree she slid half way down the rest abruptly stopping when her feet hit the concrete.

The girl recalled from the alley way a large folded lump of something that looked soft enough to fall on. She pulled it forward into the lamplight. It was a mattress.

After a couple of rough starts trying to pull it the distance necessary she finally edged it up to the tree. "It may be dirty but it's better then driving your head into the stone walk way".

Last edited by Esgallhugwen; 11-07-2006 at 12:33 PM.
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Old 11-07-2006, 06:46 AM   #51
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The two brothers had followed the Little people as they made their way out of the side street. Sam grabbed Billy's hand as they stepped out of the shadows, not wanting to lose him among all the other kids milling about. He knew if he did that his parents would never let him out of the house on his own again, and how embarrassing would that be? Of course, it would be no less embarrassing if his friends found out that he had spent the night chasing after kids dressed up as Hobbits because he believed them to be real.

"Billy," he began, "you know those people aren't really Hobbits don't you? So there's really no point in following them. And we won't get any treats at all if we just trail around after them all night."

Billy turned to look at him, his big brown eyes wide in the dark.

"They are so really Hobbits. They're dressed proper, look, they don't even have any shoes on! If I was dressed as a Hobbit I'd have shoes on, mum wouldn't have let me out if I didn't. And we can follow them and get treats, we just stay a few doors down from them."

Sam shrugged in defeat and allowed Billy to pull him on toward the first house. At least this is keeping him entertained, he thought to himself, we might actually make it through without screams and tears this year.

Standing in front of a house a little way down from the one the Hobbits were currently at, Billy instructed Sam to keep an eye on them while he did the trick'r'treating. Knowing his brother would be able to get more candy than he would Sam agreed, and watched as some sort of argument broke out. Strangely enough, it seemed to be about feet.
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Old 11-07-2006, 10:18 AM   #52
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Tish laughed.

Alone in her dark, candle lit house, with only a cat and chopsticks for company, she laughed and tried to flick her hair out of her eyes, forgetting, as always, that she had short black hair now, not long blond hair. It made her stop laughing.

With cold eyes and no candy, she took her cloak, her beloved full-length, black, embroidered, purchased-for-way-too-much-off-EBay, cloak, and slipped out the back door toward the cemetery for her annual stroll.

If she ever could have guessed what horrors awaited her, surely Tish would have dressed as a fairy princess and stayed home with Twix and Skittles. If she could have known - and known that they'd reached a time of human existence wherein epics and death chants and songs of heroic deeds pretty much stopped existing - she never would have stepped onto the dark road.
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Old 11-07-2006, 07:31 PM   #53
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Jacinta looked down, the girl was right; it was better than nothing…“Thank you!” Jacinta called down. She closed her eyes and gulped, she wasn’t used to being stuck in tree’s, much less, in this rather odd position. She opened her eyes again and stared down. “Do you think that I should fall? Or jump, kind of…”

She stared down at the mattress, her head starting to spin. She closed her eyes again, and started to hope that this wasn’t really happening, but the sharp bark against her arm proved that is really is happening…and soon, if she didn’t do something, or someone else, she wouldn’t be able to feel her foot.
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Old 11-07-2006, 08:38 PM   #54
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Elders

The library was not greatly lit after hours. There was a subdued lighting around the main librarians' desks, the computer terminals, the old card catalogue which no one ever searched these days but which maintained a pride of place. Not everything had been transferred over to the electronic system and some day some scholar was going to discover just what significant tomes were encoded on the small cards. That discovery would lead her or him to the quiet spot on the shelves where waited the expectant book, savouring the prospect of discovery in the patient knowledge of the long wait of years.

The main hallways were lit, of course, as well as the central study areas where tables now were bare of any books, laptops, photocopies, day planners. Yet off to the sides, at the very edges of the building, there lay the study carrells, like applicable (not allegorical) reminders of the ancient monks' carrells oh these long years ago. A mumble was heard in the corner where the blue carrells ran up against the yellow carrells. There, the last remnant of comfort remained, signifying a scholarly desmense from years back. Yes, there in the corner were the last upholstered chairs of the library, where someone could seek comfort and ease and curl up with a great book, out of sight of the timeclock which imposed the mintues and hours of every assignment due.

And what to wondering eyes did appear but two figures, heads close, almost closeted in intimate discussion. Around them were piles of books, stacked irregularly. Some books were laid open, their spines split, while others more modestly merely held spots with bookmarks. Yet these tow figures oft referred to the books, pulling open a page and reciting chapter and verse--well, not quite, as these books more tellingly were of letters. It was date and number which were pulled forth for proof and refutation. For that was the business of these two figures, pale in the pale light.

"No one appreciates the letters any more," complained one. Surprisingly, he wore a mohawk hair style. "I tried to nail one discussion the other day by reference to a letter to Rayner Unwin but no one else had read it."

"Ke ke ke ke ke" retorted the other figure.

"Really, it's worse than fangirls gushing without having read the books, let alone the Letters."

"Ignorance."

"Worse than that. Then you've got some who tear the letters to shreds, insisting that Tolkien didn't really mean what he said, that it was all fabricated for the person he was writing to."

"Well, don't ride me. I never suffered fools gladly. And look where it got me."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's sad, really. People think the height of the Downs is this Yorkshire new age bloke. They don't arfing realise how scholarly things were once when we really clued in on the historical aspects, the consistency of Middle earth."

The second figure remained silent at this, merely shaking his head.

The two of them sat there, resigned, wondering if anyone would show up this night at the library, or merely fixate on the easy pop culture charicatures of the movies. Surely some night someone would come by to read the books that started it all. They sat there patiently--a characteristic each had learned with some effort--these two, burrahobbit and obloquy--wondering if ever again would the really interesting discussions come to the forefront of Books again. They sat there, so pale that their figures could easily be missed, except that they had chosen this night to present themselves. But wondering too if anyone would ever find them, mired as they were in the lost reaches of the bookshelves, where no scanned online version ever trod and where no one could with a click of a finger copy text.
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Old 11-07-2006, 09:31 PM   #55
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Raven had glared at Sidagorn as he spoke loudly to the witch lady, spilling the contents of her whispered message - and then the way he treated them! "Sorry about these kids," indeed. His following call of "Caaaannnnndeeeeee!" had gotten her and Tucker moving, having reminded her of her woefully empty bag of candy.

"That looks like a good house," he commented as they neared the next one on the block, and it was delightfully spooky with "cobwebs" strung up on their porch and tombstones strewn about the lawn. Nevertheless, Raven felt resentful at the comment; she and Tucker were old enough to be out on their own, after all! He wasn't in charge of them.

"We can go by ourselves," Raven informed him, and as she and Tucker hurried up the walk, she muttered to her brother, "We don't need this Sidagorn tagging along with us. We can go trick'r'treating on our own. We're going to ditch him - we'll slip down an alley somewhere or something."

Tucker didn't seem to care whether Sid went with them or not, but the idea of trying to escape him definitely appealed.

They collected their candy at that house and trudged back towards Sidagorn standing on the sidewalk. It's not going to be any treats for you, Mister Sidagorn. Only tricks.
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Old 11-08-2006, 12:10 AM   #56
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She looked to the girl still in the tree. "I would suggest jumping. That way you can prepare for the inevitability that you may get hurt whereas falling would leave you prone to become hooked by the tree again and then possibly hurt".

She shrugged her shoulders, "I really can't give you much advice, I've never been in this predicament before". The tall girl knew that either way the younger one stuck the tree would get hurt whether a few scrapes from the weaker branches or some bruises and bumps on top of that.

"I know this is easier to suggest than to do, but can you reach up and pull your foot free of the branches?, if so maybe you could try to drop down without being hit". Another whisper of the others made her tense but she pressed her dark red lips into a hopeful smile, trying to expect the best outcome.

She almost looks like the Hanged Man from my tarot card deck. Emphasis on almost of course, considering she didn't choose to be in this state. Yet still something to be accounted for. A choice for either her or myself must be made tonight. I'm sure of it.

Last edited by Esgallhugwen; 11-08-2006 at 12:19 AM.
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Old 11-08-2006, 03:39 AM   #57
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The monitor screens threw little pools of soft light here and there in the reading room.

~*~ New Ford Public Library ~*~
scrolled silently across their pale grey surfaces. And there in the lower left corner of each screen was a little blinking light. A bright little jewel, a star... beckoning.

Gilli looked sideways at one of the screens as she passed. She stifled a gasp, and bit back a giggle as a quick little face peered out at her from atop the flashing light. A wee sprite’s face, it seemed. And just as quickly it disappeared when she turned her gaze full on it.

‘Well, I’ll be! There’s pixies in the wires. Just as my old granddad told me.’ Her eyes slid furtively to the right and she was sure another little face gave her an impish look and stuck out its tongue at her. Again, it was gone as soon as she tried to pin it with her eyes.

‘Have it your way, then, good folk!’ she said, turning away from the screens. Gilli put her fiddle case on one of the reading tables and drew her instrument from it. She held it under her chin and plucked at each of the strings, turning the tuning pegs until her ears were satisfied with the sounds.

Above her arched the rounded dome of ceiling; while above the room itself a wide balcony made its way about the area with carrels stashed here and there among the second floor library stacks. Most of what lay just beyond the balustrade fronting the balcony lay in shadow and Gilli wondered, as she looked upward, if her eyes did really see soft shadows moving among the darker ones.

Best not to think about them too much, she whispered to herself. Acknowledge them; leave little gifts as you can, is what her granddad cautioned. Just don’t call to much attention to yourself...lest the wee people take too much note of you and do some mischief.

She drew her bow softly across the strings and tapped her foot in time. ‘Well, now, here’s something for you. The Faerie Reel, it’s a lively one. Go on then, dance if you will...

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Old 11-09-2006, 01:15 PM   #58
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Aiwendil turned in appreciation and smiled at Gilli who was playing a sprightly fiddle tune. The old man would have liked to stop and dance, but there was no time for that. A more serious business called. Eerie noises still drifted from the carrels above, as glimmers of light flashed and beckoned from inside the pages of books. These tiny sparks glowed for an instant and, if no one picked up on them, quietly faded into darkness. There seemed to be quite a bit of fading going on in the dusty recesses of the stacks.

Aiwendil’s eyes traveled warily from one end of the wall to the other and then inched upward towards the domed ceiling. He could sense no real animosity or evil here, only hearts filled with mischief or resignation. Whatever live bodies or spirits inhabited these particular halls, they were unlikely to be the ones he had come to find. And yet Aiwendil could not throw off the feeling that the dangers Hedwig had described were somewhere close by, close enough that the creatures in question could actually see the things he was doing.

The old man sat down uneasily in front of the terminal screen and pulled out a long sheet of rumpled paper from his back pocket. It was a simple scribbled list that anyone except Aiwendil would have a hard time deciphering. The original listing had been even longer than this, but a number of the other sites had gone out of business after the uproar over the films died down. Even so, it would take him some time if he was going to try and visit every site appearing on the sheet.

http://www.lotrplaza-we'rethebiggest!com
http://www.councilofelrondandarwen.com
http://www.planet-tolkienandlewis.com
http://www.minastirithrising up.com
www.writersofrohanandtheshire.com
http://www.theonering.net/rumourmill. html
http://www.khazaddumonlyforthefoolhardy.com
http://www.glyphweb/wikicombined.com
http://ardalmabion for the brave
www.mythsocforthestuffy.org
www.tolkiensociety-we're the best!.org
www.forum.barrowdowns.com

In his haste to get something down on paper, Aiwendil was sure that he had overlooked a number of important sites. But the old man did not have the time or patience to do any more research, and he was hopeful that at least one of the names on the list would yield something interesting. Hedwig had sworn he had overheard whispered conversations between several of the nighttime beasts about strange and potentially perilous goings on. One fruit bat had even hinted that on the eve of Samhain some of the more powerful shadow creatures would claw a terrible rent in the fabric of the veil and threaten to overwhelm the world of man.

Aiwendil sincerely hoped that he would find Hedwig had been wrong about these rumors. In the old, old days he had left such headaches to Gandalf as he had no special love for untangling other people’s problems. But alas, after Gandalf sailed west, he sometimes had to exert himself, since no one more appropriate was left to deal with these matters. Once in a hundred years the istar might receive a reassuring dream from Manwe or his own beloved Yavanna to let him know he had not been totally forgotten. But he could not remember the last time he had received such a message of hope.

Aiwendil sat down at the terminal crossing his fingers that the electronic beast would behave and allow him to get on these various sites. The old man had a limited understanding of computers and, if anything went wrong, he was never sure how to fix them. In that one respect, luck was with him. He quickly logged on and began pulling up the various sites. His actual search results, however, were far from encouraging. He had hoped to find some mention of the goings on that Hedwig referred to. Fans of the professor were quite good at digging up rumors and passing them on, even if they misunderstood many key elements of the legendarium to an even greater degree than Master Tolkien had done.

In the first place, one or two of the sites were filled with off-topic conversations that were totally useless for Aiwendil’s purposes. The quality of the posting was definitely going down. Many of the other sites contained endless gibberish about a few, fixed questions: Balrog wings, speculation on where the Lady Ents had gone, and lively debates on who Tom Bombadil actually was. Aiwendil could have settled each of these problems for the mortal posters. Someday, he would take the time to do a post and tell them what the real answers were, but tonight he did not have that luxury. He pushed on to some of the more serious sites, the ones that dealt with languages and books and provided short reference articles. Surely, these learned people would have picked up on any serious threat to the health and happiness of 7th Age Arda. Again, he met with disappointment. The old fellow was getting desperate since he was down to the last name on the list: http://www.barrowdowns.com. It was a rather smallish website with an odd color scheme of black, green and orange. Aiwendil ruefully concluded that this must be the Barrow-wight’s idea of a bad joke. Despite the dreadful color scheme, the site did seem like an appropriate place for creatures of the night to gather.

This time at least, there was a large Books forum. Aiwendil carefully read over all the recent posts but could not find anything beyond the usual references to Balrog wings. He clicked on another link and was taken to a spot where people were playing games about werewolves. For one moment, the istar considered the possibility that the threat to the peace of Arda might actually be an invasion by werewolves. But this did not seem probable, and he could get no sense that any real peril motivated the light hearted if gruesome words of these particular posters. About to give up and wander back to his cottage in the woods, the istar impulsively clicked on a link that took him to a series of role playing games. He was shocked and dismayed to skim over one story that totally misrepresented his own character and actions. If he ever got hold of that “Child”, he would give her a scolding in no uncertain terms! Still he could see nothing that reminded him of what Hedwig had spoken.

In desperation, Aiwendil went further down the screen to “Elvenhome”, apparently the cemetery for games that had died. Surely, if the dark creatures had posted a notice of their intent this would be the appropriate place. He clicked through a list of games, most of them finished but a few half done, and then worked his way back to the very oldest ones. It was on the last page that he saw it. With excitement glowing in his eye, the old man called over to Jack, “Come here! Take a look at this. Do you think this means anything?” Aiwendil pointed to the first post in a half done story. It was apparently from the very old days of the RPG forums before the moderator Piosenniel and her sidekick Child managed to bring order to the chaos. It was a time when magical weapons and chat discussions abounded; the games could and did center on some very strange topics…...

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Old 11-09-2006, 02:52 PM   #59
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Becca watched the children hurry away.

"Bad luck and witches," she murmured to Midnight. "Is that really what they think?" She scratched Midnight's chin, lost in thought. Becca hardly noticed trick'r'treaters passing her in the streets as she slowly made her way homeward.

Outside her house, there was a bright swath of light coming from her hallway. She had left her door open in her earlier panic, and it still sat slightly ajar, illuminating the dark street below with a soft glow. Becca closed the door, and the street was dark again.

"They don't understand at all, do they?" She put Midnight on the ground and checked her candy bowl. The trick'r'treaters had helped themselves in her absence. Becca didn't mind. She had bought the candy to give away, and the children were more than welcome to it. She refilled the bowl with her last bag of chocolate. But there was another treat still hidden in a cupboard in the kitchen. A special treat.

Becca opened the cabinet. A plate of white cupcakes glistened on the shelf. Sugar leaves sparkled on top of each cupcake.

"It's a special recipie, Midnight. Twenty-four cupcakes. All of them special, but one more than the others. One is very special. It was hard to do, but it's time." She added wistfully, "Yes. It's time."
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Old 11-10-2006, 02:43 PM   #60
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Darlariel followed the other three in the library, yet once she was there she stood slightly apart from them. They seemed to have a very important business there, and she did not want to be more of an inconvenience to them than she already was. Of course, none of them had spoken against her coming, but she still felt too much of an outsider.

Darlariel headed to the nearest bookshelf. She was delighted to read the name "Tolkien" on most of the books there. She drew from the shelf an old edition of the "Felowship of the Ring". But she did not open it. Instead, she stood as if deep in thought, stroking the cover with a seemingly mechanical gesture, yet in that caress there was more love and gratitude than even she realised she had. She blushed, suddenly remembering that she was not alone. Hastily, she put the book back, hoping that no one had noticed her.

She felt uneasy, and she found it difficult to hide it. Strange, that she should feel like this here, she thought. Usually the library was among the only places where she felt secure, untouchable by the troubles and perils of the world. Yet tonight she felt that it was not so. Maybe it was only because of what Aiwendil had told her, but what if it meant something more than that? She cast a worried glance over her shoulder.

But immediately she felt ashamed of her fear. "So you were once saying how much admiration you have for the heroes of old, were you not? " a reproachful voice sounded in her mind. "Well what would Aragorn and the others say if they could see you now? " Yet she knew that they would have nothing against her fear if she ignored unesainess and stood her ground.

Gilli began playing a merry tune at her fiddle. Darlariel smiled at her, unable to hide her gratitude. Such fair song would surely frighten any being that delighted in darkness and haterd. They would surely fade, unable to bear such proof of the light and beauty of the world.

Darlariel turned to Aiwendil. His attention was fixed on the screen in front of him. Daralriel looked over his shoulder. She had often thought of joining such sites as the ones Aiwendil was looking at. What would be more delightful than being able to talk about the things she liked with people that shared her passion? Yet she knew that this would not truly provide her with the peace for which she was so desperately searching. Maybe it would be fun, and also fullfiling from an academic point of view, but that was all. No, she had long decided that help would not come from that direction. But then, from where would it come?
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Old 11-10-2006, 09:51 PM   #61
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Sid had been making the rounds and his pillow case was half full. He had made sure the kids, Raven and Tucker, had made it safely back to a lighted sidewalk and with firm words not to go cat stealing anymore, left them to their mischief.

He was walking down a block that he had been down before but couldn't remember having stopped out all the houses. Of course! This was the house Becca had come running out of! Sid smiled. Then he wondered if she would recognize him at all. He swallowed. Probably not. He frowned. He shook his head hard. Silly. It was Halloween and nobody recognized anybody anyway, so just get the candy and don't worry about it.

But it would be nice if she remembered. She was a pretty lady especially when she smiled at him. He'd never say such a thing to anybody, especially not his friends! - but he could think it if he wanted.

He walked up Becca's sidewalk and prepared to say those hallowed words, wondering why the butterflies were flitting in his stomach.
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Old 11-12-2006, 02:07 AM   #62
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The stars were strange in Far Harad, and the Moon rode higher on his courses through the sky above that far south land, and the Sun was not kindly to the dry sands beneath her chariot by day.

The people of that far south land were gathering for war, and every man, woman, child, and beast was conscripted for the work of preparing for battle. Their old enemies, the cruel men of Gondor, would finally meet their fate at the hands of Sauron, Lord of Mordor.


Jack read over Aiwendil’s shoulder, his eyes narrowing at the small green letters floating on their black background. It was a bilious combination. And, though he had the adamantine constitution of the Fair Folk of old, it really did make him a little queasy.

‘’Let me just adjust that,’ he said, stepping around the older man and slipping his hand onto the mouse. In an economy of clicks the eerie screens had changed to a manageable black and white and the size of the text was now large enough to be read with ease. He scrolled back up to the top of the page. ‘Interesting title – The Simian Shadow of Far Harad. Now what’s got you so alarmed about it?’

Gilli played softly now in the background. The notes of her song seemed to push back the shadows that hovered along the edges of the walls; that gathered in the corners. He was glad she had come along.

He scrolled down the page at a steady rate, reading quickly the various messages.....no, ‘posts’ – that’s what the users of this site called their little writings. ‘It’s not this, is it? This part about Maleficent. Some sort of ape, is it? And a bad’un as far as I can see.’

He read aloud.....

‘Maleficent found his way into the city in the usual manner. He was old and thusly tired after a fruitless day. He watched the evening's activity in the square with vast but measured interest and retired to his corner in the battlements.’

‘He thought long and hard. Maleficent was older than anything he had encountered. Still searching for that Good Deed. Ahhh...this exile wearied him. He had lost count of the summers. For what purpose was this endless ageing?

‘His old yet flexible mind moved smoothly up a gear and he achieved the familiar click of foresight. In the mists of events he sieved for answers. The city was shrouded in a fog that made any real prescience impossible yet shapes moved in the darkness. He closed his eyes. As the gloom of deep thinking opened ahead of his probing thoughts he saw clearly the bright shapes of the wolves. Why so many of the Old Race?

‘His thought surged ahead again and he felt vitality seeping from his body as his mind drew into itself. The city was attracting what it needed. Events were in flux... He found the febrile cunning of the mouse Fedwie and wondered at such a place for the Hidden Kind. He realised that for such companions to be in confluence, the purpose must be terrible. He threw his mind out further, beyond the city walls, finding the crow, at wing, purpose unknown. The gorilla drawn to the city by forces it could not understand. What role for the Great Ape?’

‘Maleficent shuddered and came back to himself. The floor of his castle cranny was cold and hard. He drew some straw under himself but it was damp and he shivered again.'


‘Oh, this doesn’t sound good at all!’ Jack went on.

‘The night would be a long one. He knew many things but he did not know the dark hand that was encircling the city. He did not know the part he had in this play. Yet he could watch and assimilate. Maleficent was good at watching. He knew the wolves would not come unless there were great need.’

Jack scrolled to the bottom of the page. There had been the kidnapping of some human child. and something about wolves coming into the city.....and wargs..... The story, the writing had petered out. How like men to become sidetracked and leave something half-done. That Tolkien fellow, excepted, of course. But then, he’d been touched by faerie.....or so it seemed to Jack.

‘Is it the dark hand that worries you, Aiwendil? Do you feel it “encircling” the city?’ Jack cast his mind back over their short journey to the library. ‘Gilli!’ he said, turning round to look at the fiddler. ‘Remember that group of trick-or-treaters we passed by just as we left the alley? The one you thought looked like a troupe of circus animals. You said their costumes and their make-up was so well done; they looked so real, you said.’ He chewed at the edge of one ragged fingernail as he thought. ‘Perhaps we should have got a better look at them. Maybe they weren’t in disguise at all.’

He cast an eye on the young woman who'd come with Aiwendil. 'Darlarliel, isn't it?' he said, raising a questioning brow toward her. 'Did you happen to notice any.....persons in strange costume when you and Aiwendil walked here?' He laughed despite the serious atmosphere surrounding their little group. 'That is, more strange than usual on this night of ghosties and beasties and things that go bump in the dark?'

Last edited by Undómë; 11-12-2006 at 02:15 AM.
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Old 11-12-2006, 12:34 PM   #63
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Darlariel thought hard. Of course, she had seen many figures dressed strangely and wearing masks that would give many nightmares. Yet that was not unusual on that night. She could not say for certain that she had noticed something out of the ordinary. Well, unless you counted...

Darlariel closed her eyes in concentration. That evening, as she was ready to go out, she had caught sight of a strange group on the street. They were wearing masks that were very hideous, but also very realistic. So realistic that she had felt frightened. She remembered that they had been laughing roughly and singing a harsh song, that seemed to be about death and destruction. And she also recalled the terror that had overwhelmed her when hearing those songs. She told Jack all this.

"I thought then that something was not quite right with them." she finished. "Although...although I could not clearly point out what. It was mostly a...well, a feeling. You do not think that they...they were not..." She hesitated. The thought brought a bitter taste in her mouth. "Do you think they were not human?" she finished.

Darlariel was not sure she really wanted to hear Jack's answer. She knew there would be no going back after that, no way of returning to her former innocence. Yet there was nothing that she could do now. She had got herself into this, she had no choice but to go along until the end, whatever that was going to be.
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Old 11-12-2006, 02:43 PM   #64
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Gilli’s skin prickled as Darlariel recounted the group she’d seen. She could almost hear the dark melody they’d been singing. Her eyes darted nervously upward and about the balustrade, wondering if it were just her imagination or were there low echoes of their harsh laughter just disappearing even now into darkness. Gilli shook herself and twitched her shoulders as if to throw off such dark thoughts.

Her mood lightened as she recalled the trick-or-treaters she’d seen when she and Jack had left the alley. ‘The Little Folk are out again this year,’ she said, turning away from the shadows and toward her three companions. ‘You saw them. Remember, Jack? They wore no masks; their features and clothes were guise enough. And unlike the little ones who were being characters from the Rings movies, the Little Folk went bare footed as always.’

She wrinkled her forehead, thinking about that small group Jack had mentioned. ‘I do remember those trick-or-treaters.....the ones with the animal costumes on. Not really costumes, though. And not really circus-y now that I think about them. Their clothes were just ordinary....jeans, shirts, & boots on their feet, I think. It was their masks that were so extraordinary. Wolf, fox, crow, hawk, among others. And I think I saw a bear among them. And him walking next to a deer.’

She plucked at the strings of her fiddle, wondering if she should say what else she thought she saw. ‘You know, I didn’t really get a bad hit off them. They seemed really to belong there.’ She rubbed at the back of her neck. ‘There was one thing. When they had nearly passed out of sight, one of them, the fox-masked one I think, turned back for a quick glance our way. Beneath the mask, or through it, really, I thought I saw a smiling face. And in it deep, brown, old eyes. He nodded once, then turned away, a fox once again.’ Gilli shrugged.

‘Weird, eh?’

Last edited by piosenniel; 11-19-2006 at 02:47 PM.
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Old 11-14-2006, 11:15 AM   #65
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The evening had flown in streams of children knocking at Becca's door. All had been given candy in handfuls. Chocolates and caramels and butterscotch. And then there were a few who were given an extra gift of one of the glistening white cupcakes. A little girl with a gentle smile and a soft light in her blue eyes. A dark haired boy with a big grin and merry laugh. A sad faced child dressed as Cinderella. And many others.

Only three cupcakes remained, including the most important of the set, though Becca didn't know which held the prize.

"I didn't make them, you know," she whispered to Midnight. "He did, on my last trip. And he put the star into the batter. I don't know which has the star. But he said I could choose who will have it next. And I don't think I chose anyone who has been here so far."

Midnight's tail swished.

"It would be easier if I knew the children, the way they did it in the old days at the feast. But I don't know most of them. I don't know if they'd understand. Faerie is special. Everyone who gets a cupcake tonight will know that, at least for a while. But the one who gets the star has to truly understand."

There was another knock at the door. Becca recognized her visitor and grinned.

"Why, hello again, Aragorn."

Somehow I think he'd understand. I wonder.

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Old 11-16-2006, 06:57 PM   #66
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"Why, hello again, Aragorn." It was Becca, and she was smiling. She remembered! Sid couldn't help the smile that came to his face.

"You can call me Sid."

There was Midnight, her cat, tail high and back arched, her side brushing against Becca's shin. Midnight was looking straight at Sid with a look of appraisal.

"Hi Midnight. Are you glad to be safe at home again?" Sid grinned and looked up at Becca. He noticed a slight tilt of her head, an odd glint in her eye, as if she was considering something; what, he could not guess: whether he'd fit in her witch's kettle? Don't be silly, Sid!

He held out his pillow case, feeling very self-conscious. She was still smiling, still had that strange expression on her face. It made her look like very pretty. Sid was beginning to notice things like that a lot more just in the last two months. He let his imagination dance a little bit, which probably came from reading that one set of books more often than any other. He imagined that Becca was someone who had jumped out of that little short story he'd read, that she was the Queen of Faerie, and that she was masquerading as a neighbor on Halloween night. Ah, why not? he thought to himself.

"Trick or treat, my Lady." Sid immediately winced, which he was sure she had seen, and felt doubly foolish.

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Old 11-19-2006, 07:04 AM   #67
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Becca regarded Sid thoughtfully, still smiling. He seemed so awkward and embarrassed. And yet there was something else too that she couldn't quite describe. Something that she had first noticed when they went off to find Midnight.

"Trick or treat, my Lady," he said. And winced.

"Rightly spoken, my Lord." Becca replied, trying to overcome Sid's embarrassment. She scooped chocolates into his pillowcase, then reached to the platter of cupcakes.

He should be the one. She picked up a cupcake.

"You know, Sid, it was very nice of you to help with find Midnight. Thank you. I have a special treat for you." Becca held out her hand and the white and silver frosting on the cupcake sparkled under her porch light.
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Old 11-20-2006, 08:59 PM   #68
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The frosting on the cupcake sparkled in the porchlight, like little stars. Her words had been kind, and so Sid had fallen in love. Of course that was silly, she was a grown woman and he was just a twelve year old boy. But he was in love with the Queen of Faery, and this was she standing before him. Of course not really, but why not on this one night of the year?

Sid tentatively reached and took the cupcake in his hand, brushing her palm, sending shivers down his wrist. What if she really was the Faery Queen? Do you have another name, my lady?

"Uh, is it okay if I eat it now? Becca? Ma'am? My lady? Your highness?" he stumbed over his tongue and winced again.
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Old 11-21-2006, 09:33 AM   #69
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"Certainly. It's probably best to eat it now." It was best. Both because Becca wanted to see if she had given Sid the right cupcake and because she thought he might have questions for her afterward.

Becca suddenly chuckled. "You know, Sid, I really ought to be the one saying, 'Your Highness.' You are the King of Gondor, after all. And I'm just Becca the harp player."
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Old 11-21-2006, 10:47 AM   #70
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"Me, king of Gondor?" Sid grinned. Becca was beyond nice. "Well maybe tonight." He took a bite of the cupcake. It was good. He looked at where he had bitten. It was glittery on the inside too. Sid wondered how she did that. He put the rest of it in his mouth. There was a tingle on his tongue this time along with the sweetness. He swallowed, and it went down smoothly; but it also seemed to go up into his head. Was this what strong drink was like?

He looked at Becca. Suddenly he knew that she was not the Faery Queen, but that she had been to Faery for real. He could see it in her eyes, in her smile, in her hair, like a glow that came off her skin.

"You've really been there, haven't you?"

Sid said it with a sense of awe. Then he felt a little tickle on his forehead. He put his hand up to itch it, but the urge stopped the moment he touched his skin; he could feel something different there, somehow, but not in a way that he could normally feel.

"What just happened, Becca?"

Her smile was softer now. "You have been given the Star of of the King of Faery. You can pass its borders now."

Sid's jaw dropped. He knew it was true. Becca had been there, but now she could no longer go there. Tears came to his eyes and his throat clenched.

"You can't go anymore. You're not old yet, why did you give it to me?" I would have liked to go there with you!
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Old 11-24-2006, 07:51 PM   #71
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The Star had been passed on irrevocably, and Becca's smile was now tinged with sadness. The paths to Faery were closed to her. That knowledge came with a pang, but one that was eased by Sid's understanding of the gift. She felt that she had chosen well.

She spoke, and her voice was low and gentle. "There are some gifts, Sid, that are too precious for one person to keep. Special gifts that are bigger than any one person. Gifts that aren't owned, but only held and loved for a time until they're meant to be shared. The Star is one. It was time for me to pass it to the next person, just as it has been passed on from one keeper to the next for more years than I know.

I can't go back. But I'll always know and remember, and that's more than any but a very few people can say. And, even more importantly, I know that someone else will come to know Faery after me. You."

"But why me?" Sid's eyes were still full of silver bright tears.

"So many reasons. But mostly, it seemed like you were meant to have it. On this one night, you were here, and you helped me. There's more at work in the world than chance, you know."

"I wish...I wish that you could still go too."

Becca brushed Sid's shoulder. "It's okay, Sid. It was time. And if there's anything I've learned from having the Star, it's that there's a little bit of Faery all around us, all the time, if only we keep watching for it. Look!"

They turned and looked out at the night, and the stars glittered in Becca's eyes.
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Old 11-28-2006, 03:29 AM   #72
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Aiwendil:

Is it the dark hand that worries you, Aiwendil? Do you feel it “encircling” the city?’

Jack had said it far better than he could. This night was different than other nights, even different than those times in previous years when they'd trudged into the city to celebrate the passing of the year. But it was not a kind of difference that made Aiwendil terribly comfortable.

"Can you give me a hand with this door?" Aiwendil barked over to Gilli and Darlariel, his voice laced with worry. The door that they were standing by was not the back entrance they'd used to come inside the library, but the heavy wooden door that faced onto main street.

"But it's locked," someone objected.

"No, not tonight, and certainly not now." The three of them pushed with all their might. Then Aiwendil turned the handle and, as if by magic, the door spun open on its own. He walked outside and stood on the porch. For a moment everything was quiet. A single star glittered in the sky. "Perhaps I was wrong," he muttered to himself. He stood and waited to see if anything would happen.

It was then that he heard it: an ugly, rasping voice, full of menace and envy. Then other voices quickly joined in. They weren't really voices in the manner that a man might speak, but Aiwendil did not know what else to call them. The sounds made the istar tremble. Too many bad memories. Worse than that, the sounds were getting closer.

"Close the door now!" The old man whirled around and ran in from the porch, slamming the door behind him. He reached up and secured the latch and then looked over at Jack. "I don't like it at all. They are outside.....a whole crew perhaps. This shouldn't be happening. Not tonight....not now. And I have no idea how to deal with this. Elves and Balrogs.....at least I understand those. But Orcs, wicked Orcs and trolls, I have never understood. I thought that perhaps it would be a houseless Elf or two, but I never suspected anything like this. Well, my friend Jack, I am hoping you have some idea what to do. Either that or one of you. " He glanced around at the others. "I thought this place of wisdom would act as a refuge. Even an Elf who has lost his soul has some respect for books. But these folk are different. The building we have chosen as our fortress may turn out to be a prison from which there is no escape."

Last edited by Child of the 7th Age; 11-29-2006 at 02:27 AM.
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Old 11-29-2006, 11:36 PM   #73
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Jack poked his head over the balustrade at the sound of Aiwendil’s voice. Three small books found their way into his coat’s large pockets as he raced down the steps; his long legs taking two or three at a time. Behind him, the shadows between the stacks seemed to move forward until they crowded in along the oak balusters watching the scene below.

‘Ah, good! You’ve got the door secured.’ He stood, hands on slender hips, thinking. ‘And the basement’s all locked up; I reset the keypad.’

The sounds grew louder, more raucous beyond the thick door. Jack looked up at the stacks, his eyes flicking round the circumference. ‘Guard your barrow well, my friends. We’ll see what we can do from behind our old foe.’

Jack turned back to Aiwendil and the two women. ‘Come, there’s a way beneath the grounds to the old library building. A nice dry tunnel where the steam pipes run. There are many less popular books stored in the old building, as well as a place where the book repairer works. We can cross over there and come up behind the foul Orcs and Trolls.’ He smiled grimly at the trio. ‘That is if you’re up to a little skirmish this fair night.’ He opened his long coat, the slender fingers of his right hand pointing to a tarnished blade that now hung by his side. ‘Gift from old friends above.’ He nodded to the shadows crowded on the upper landing. ‘Not all the Elves of Imladris sailed West. Some stayed; some died. Many of their fëar found familiar places of refuge.’ He raised his brows as he regarded the main door once again.

‘One could almost feel sorry should those creatures breach the entrance.....almost.....’

‘Shall we go?’ Turning toward the area of the main floor where the check-out terminal stood, Jack motioned for them to follow him through a small door behind the desk. It led into a small dimly lit landing at the head of a winding spiral of metal stairs.

Behind them the shadows had come down from the upper stacks. Good hunting..... came the soft murmuring of fair voices, though in an elder tongue not many now would understand.

Last edited by Undómë; 11-30-2006 at 03:34 PM.
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Old 11-30-2006, 05:47 PM   #74
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Gilli called out after Jack’s retreating back. ‘Hey! Some of us need a little more light than you, m’dear.’ The soft-lit glow from the main room of the library illuminated the landing, but once the door had closed only a small rectangle of light shone in through the door’s little window. Gilli felt about on the wall just inside entryway until her hand found a switch. She flicked it up and down but no light came on.

She fished about in her pack, her hand finally finding her little flashlight. The light from it was wan and she muttered a curse beneath her breath for not remembering to buy new batteries.

In the soft, dim circle of light that wavered on the stairs from her torch, Gilli and the others made their way down the stairs. Their footsteps clattered and rang on the metal steps.

‘Shhh!’ Someone behind her called softly for a halt. ‘Listen!’

From the darkness pooled at the bottom of the stairs came muffled noises.....

Last edited by piosenniel; 12-01-2006 at 12:41 AM.
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Old 12-01-2006, 02:08 PM   #75
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The night had proved darker than Darlariel had thought it would be. Dark things that had been until then well hidden, showing themselves only in troubled nightmares, had now emerged into the real world. They had been forgotten, their haterd was now a matter of legend, but they still remembered the world of men, they knew it and loathed it. Here they were, ready to attack again. And this time, they had chances of winning. None believed in their existence, it would take time before people would really accept that such creatures of shadow still lived. And they did not have that time.

These thoughts were in Darlariel's mind as she was following the others in the dark tunnel. The beam of Gilli's torch glittered somewhere in front of her, a tiny ray of hope in the darkness and dread that she felt all around her. She told herself that what Jack had said to them in the library meant that they need not despair completely, not yet. But she felt too afraid to pay much attention to that. What could four people do against such dark things, were they to encounter them? What else save resist long enough to make a brave stand that would be worth many songs? Yet what songs? The time when people sang lays in which they praised the brave deeds done by others was long passed.

Darlariel shook her head, wanting to drive such thoughts from her mind. What cared she about songs? And so what if she were to die that night? If that was to be her fate, she would not complain. She would not regret her meeting with Aiwendil, indeed, she would not regret even the fact that she had followed him in the library even if she had had the choice of turning back.

Suddenly the sound of whispers came to her ears. She stopped short, together with the others. They were now near the end of the tunnel, but there seemed to be a commotion there. She could hear movement and voices talking to each other, although whoever it was spoke too quietly for her to make out what they were saying. Yet she was not sure she would have understood even if they had spoken louder.

Darlariel looked uneasily at the others. She knew they had no choice. Sooner or later they would have to go down, and meet whoever was already there.
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Old 12-01-2006, 04:21 PM   #76
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Heavy footsteps rattled down the spiral stairway. And echoed in the entry to the pitch-black tunnel. Some light, a lantern of some sort, he thought bounced wildly off the walls and shown through the perforated metal treads of the stairs. Tolly craned his head out from the dark interior of the tunnel trying to see what sort of beast or beasts were moving down toward them.

‘It’s somethin’ big tromping down the stairs!’ Tolly whispered low to Bran. ‘Something real big . . . or maybe a whole flock of ‘em,’ Bran said, shivering a bit at the thought of who or what approached them.

Daisy reached out and pulled Ferdy back from the tunnel’s edge. He was younger than she by three years or so. And being the older sister she felt obligated to see to his well being. ‘You two get back here, too!’ she hissed at Bran and Tolly, slipping into the rustic Westron dialect they most often spoke among themselves. ‘I knew we shouldna sneaked in here this year to see the Professor’s new books. Not really a bookstore, you know,’ she went on. ‘I heard the Missus that runs this place doesn’t really like us leaving those silver pennies for her books.’

‘Well, I like getting them here,’ Ferdy broke in. ‘You get to feel the covers of the books, smell the leather bindings. And riffle through the pages to see if you like the pictures.’ He swiped the back of his sleeve across his mouth, clearing it of the last traces of chocolate bar he’d been munching on from his trick-or-treat. ‘Better than trying to figure out that Amazing.com and what things you’re supposed to click on to get your book.’

‘Quiet you all! Quick! Hide here. It’s nearly upon us!’ Tolly grabbed for his friends and shoved them in behind some old wooden packing crates stacked along the tunnel wall. The Hobbits crouched down, holding their breaths as they waited for whatever beastie it was to pass them by.

Last edited by Noinkling; 12-02-2006 at 02:00 AM.
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Old 12-01-2006, 09:38 PM   #77
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Sid looked. In the darkness was a taste, a scent, a shadow half perceived, of something behind the darkness itself. It was as if the wind, whose voice could be heard almost above a whisper now and again, now here, now there, were a cloak, a thready gown that hid a wilder, freer, weirding of a night. And Sid, for the first time, was able to get a hint of it. He looked back at Becca eagerly.

And was saddened once again, for he could see the starlight glittering in her eyes; she was watching the night as if seeing many wondrous things at a remove, cherished memories bittersweet now because they could not be added to anymore.

"Becca," Sid said softly, "I'm going to go have a look around, if you know what I mean. Is it okay if I come back a little later? Maybe we can talk."

Becca nodded and smiled for him. He began to walk away toward the street, and looked back once to see Becca wave and close the door. Midnight was standing in the window watching him. Maybe I need a cat of my own, or some kind of animal. I wonder if Midnight was able to go with her?
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Old 12-15-2006, 02:49 PM   #78
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There were sounds as they neared the end of the tunnel. Little shufflings and shushings which fell into a deep pool of silence as they passed the stacked wooden crates lining the walls.

From the corner of her eye Gilli caught a quick glimpse of someone’s small face. And just as quickly it disappeared, as if the owner were jerked quickly back into the shadows. In a few quick steps she caught up with Jack, and nudging him, nodded toward the boxes.

‘The small folk,’ she whispered . . .
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Old 12-15-2006, 03:28 PM   #79
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‘Now you’ve done it!’ hissed Daisy as she pulled Ferdy in close beside her. She clapped her hand over his mouth as he started to protest.

‘But Daisy,’ he said in a muffled voice through her fingers. Ferdy reached up and pried her hand from his mouth. His face scrunched up as he licked his dry lips and tasted the sweet, buttery residue. ‘Hmmmmph! You’ve been eating the toffee out of the bag, haven’t you?!’

Tolly stood up from where he was crouched and stepped into the weak light left behind as Jack and the others passed. ‘Well, they’ve seen us now.’ He motioned for the others to follow him. ‘We might as well see what they’re doing.’
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Old 12-19-2006, 04:21 AM   #80
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‘Daisy, yes?’ Jack smiled toward the Hobbits as they came out from their hiding place. ‘Best you not go into the Library. The wights and wraiths who guard the book barrow have some business to be about this night. He motioned for them to follow along with his companions. ‘Did you not see the torogs and yrchs.....goblins and trolls?’ He gave them no time to answer, but picked up the pace as they exited the tunnel and headed toward the door of the little book repository they found themselves in.

‘Ssshhh!’ Jack whispered, finger to his lips as they slipped out into the shadows that ran along the side of the building. Once clear of building and in the cover of a small coppice of beech and low growing bushes, Jack halted the little group and spoke low to them. ‘You can make your way back to the alleyway and the warehouse if you head across the field there,’ he said pointing to the stubbly acre which lay between them and the two-lane track back into the little commerce district of New Ford.

His eyes glittered in the pale moonlight, what stars there were tracking in tiny bursts across the greyed orbs as he turned his head to look back toward the library. ‘I, for one, am off to see what mischief the dark ones have done. And if I might lend a hand somehow,’ he added as an afterthought.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Jack could feel the others of his companions, or at least some of them, following along behind him as he made his swift, quiet way to the library’s main entrance. Nearing the little pathway that led up to the marbled steps, he ducked down behind the pedestal holding one of the stone bears that greeted visitors entering the library grounds. Less friendly they seemed to him tonight as he looked up at the one he stood beneath. Was that a gleam of tooth he saw catching the lamplight from the street corner? Did his eyes betray him – were the lips drawn back in a menacing way? Did the hair bristle along the nape of its neck?

His ears caught the sound of softly beaten drums; hand drums he thought. Like a heartbeat in the night. And then he saw them....

It was the ones that Gilli had spoken of. There in a half ring about the base broad steps leading up to the front door was a group of twenty or so people. Some wore their hair long in dark braids tied with pieces of red twine or short - the salt and pepper locks spiked up in an uneven thatch. Faded jeans and flannel shirts hugged their bodies, lean or generous in their proportions. Upon their feet were soft leather slippers, dusty with dirt from those places which they’d passed. And those feet were planted firm upon the stone of the walkway and on the grass and soil which bordered it.

A number of hands held the small drums he’d heard, their insistent beat thumping along in the darkness. From their mouths came a low, keening sound, at times like the yip of those nocturnal beasts that stalked the wilder outlands of the city.

It was their faces, though, that held the Elf’s attention. Like those trick mirrors at some traveling carnival attraction they changed, first one thing then another.....a young man’s face to hawk visage.....and on another that of an antlered stag. Fox and bear, fish and marten, wolf.....and others not seen save in those lands west of west, graced their swaying bodies. ‘I know these ones,’ Jack spoke, almost to himself. ‘From across the great sea they came in older days, even as our folk crossed to their lands.’ He marveled at them. ‘Though I have not seen them gathered in such number before.’

The great doors to the library were open, he could see. Those Orcs and Trolls who had not already passed within tried desperately to escape the shadows which seethed just beyond the entryway. But they could not. Held by the steady intensity of the drums and voices they were driven back mercilessly toward the waiting doom.

In the end, he could not say if it were long or brief – that space of time within which the spectacle played out. When the last Orc vanished into the library, the great doors swung closed. The drumming, the hum of voices stopped, too. And all was silent, within and without, until the familiar sounds of a New Ford night came flooding back in upon the senses.

In twos and threes and such the group before the stairs began to leave; some talking quietly to each other as they walked along, others with a look and half smile of a thing yet again well done. A few there were who stopped as they passed the stone bear where the companions were yet hiding. They nodded in a knowing way toward the group, their ordinary faces set with smiles. All hints of wildness gone for the moment.

One turned back as they passed where Jack stood, a cunning, playful look gracing her features.....an otter’s face at first, dark eyes regarding the Elf and then in a moment a face familiar to him.....the librarian.....

‘Those three little books,’ she said, pointing a slender finger at the pocket in which he’d hidden them away. ‘Remember as always, my dear, due back, and promptly, next Hallows’ Eve.’

‘No tears, no dog-eared corners, no creasing the spines unduly either. And, oh, yes, no writing of notes in the margins, no underlining,’ he called out to her as she turned away and hurried off into the welcoming shadows beyond the library grounds.

Jack shoved his hands in his coat pockets and looked round to his own companions. ‘Well, shall we be getting back?’ he asked, lifting his chin in the direction from which they’d started out. He glanced briefly back at the once again quiet library; its windows softly dark as if what lay within were now resting. ‘Seems as if all is taken care of, don’t you think? At least for now.....’

Last edited by Undómë; 12-19-2006 at 04:26 AM.
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