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ArWen the Eternally Surprised
Author: Ria Time: 2007/11/22
Arwen encounters a strange monk and gains a little extra time.
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Boundaries of Mirkwood
Submitter: Date: 2006/1/2 Views: 363 Rate: 5.00/2
Summary: NEW Chapter 19, 20,

Summary: Four young women of Earth die and awake reformed in a world not their own. There are mutant spiders, a rude man with pointy ears, and something within them is fundamentally changed. Conspicuously out of place in Middle-Earth, they cannot go back. Who will realize the Truth before it's too late? HP, Matrix, Star Wars, Anime(crack) in Tolkien.

Disclaimer: Anything herein that resembles the property of Mr. George Lucas, Mrs. JK Rowling, Mr. Peter Jackson, Mr. Larry and Andy Wachowski, Professor JRR Tolkien, or Mrs. Rumiko Takahashi, is entirely intentional with absolutely no intent of libel or cause of any injury to said respective artists. No money has been or ever will be made off of this or any of this author’s convoluted interpretation of ‘fanfiction’ so there’s no use of lawyers agonizing over it. Standard fanfiction waiver applies.

Note: This is not exactly a "Mary-Sue." Nor is it entirely a cross-over. It may amalgamate these elements, but more than anything, it is a metafanfiction. I treat it as a LotR fanfic, but it encompasses many, many fandoms, and as the series progresses, I hope to incorporate more fandoms in a variety of ways into the body of the series. Its purpose (please don't groan, it'll be fun!) is to celebrate all fandoms and primarily the fans whose love, dedication, and imagination give our mental playgrounds life. In this instance, literally. Besides, I really couldn’t decide which genre I loved more and this way I can do everything at once!

Darkness and Starlight
DISCLAIMER: Anything herein that resembles the property of Mr. George Lucas, Mrs. JK Rowling, Mr. Peter Jackson, Mr. Larry and Andy Wachowski, Professor JRR Tolkien, or Mrs. Rumiko Takahashi, is entirely intentional with absolutely no intent of libel or cause of any injury to said respective artists. No money has been or ever will be made off of this or any of this author’s convoluted interpretation of ‘fanfiction’ so there’s no use of lawyers agonizing over it. Standard fanfiction waiver applies.

NOTE: This is not exactly a "Mary-Sue." Nor is it entirely a cross-over. It may amalgamate these elements, but it truly is neither. More than anything, it is an experimental metafanfiction. I treat it as a LotR fanfic, but it encompasses many, many fandoms, and as the series progresses, I hope to incorporate more into the body of the series. Its purpose (don’t groan. It does have one) is to celebrate all fandoms and primarily the fans whose love, dedication, and imagination give our mental universes their life. In this instance, literally. Besides, I really couldn’t decide which genre I loved more.


Boundaries of Mirkwood
Chapter 1
Darkness and Starlight




It is Gwar and it waits in darkness. Everywhere dark, dark, the shadows and night, curses! Curses the starlight!

Must wait. Must wait with the dark crawlers in the night, the orcs, we wait, oh we wait and it grins as it watches and waits. Shreds and blood and tearing as they scream in its head. Their white pelts peel off like bark shredded from trees, those rabbits; rabbits with white soft down and pointed ears, they wretch and scream in its head. Black water in its mouth, Gwar can nearly taste their blood. Sweet and salty. All will come as its master promises—he promises rabbits, so long’s he’s done, so we wait with the crawlers in the night under black shadow and the magic of white powder to make its skins burn, it burns, but it doesn’t care about the pain, no, no, it doesn’t mind pain. It likes pain. It likes creeping up on rabbits because they cannot see it in the dark with powder on its skin. Shame there will be no more powder after night—all used up, no more rabbits to hunt, but, oh, they have more than enough rabbits in the hole (though there was the clever rabbit to get away last night, but, ho, it will fade and die and the trees may eat its bones and will die, be assur’d).

Must wait as rabbits move watch in their fowl tree—evil, evil, wretched—must wait to tear trees, must wait. Powder and magic muffles the sounds, but ever is it the danger.

Rabbit looks near Gwar, but rabbit does not see it. Gwar hates its stench—stench of rabbit, stench of rain, and grasses. Hates rabbit hands and lines and soft curves and its starlight! Take that starlight, take it and blot it out—blinking, blinking, gone!

A rabbit squeals—a real one, not the rabbits in the air, in their safe little tree—which is a signal for all to hear; crawlers, orc, rabbits, Gwar.

Rabbits alert! They move, ah, they move and its skins burn, its joints ache; they move and Gwar watches in pain! Gwar hears words—the rabbits speak and they speak and its ears—pain and dizzy, but Gwar knows some rabbit speech and they’ll send three, three rabbits to see if orc have killed a real rabbit a ways away and they have! They have, and we will!

Always better to divide the rabbits, master says, and he’s right; master is always right, and this Gwar knows and this Gwar obeys. Now six little rabbits up and awake and alert and missing three in their little tree awaiting us—we’ll have them, so close now.

*Snap* Gwar doesn’t growl, but Gwar would snarl and slice that wretched, loud orc stepping on bad branches, for now the rabbits exchange a glance (they see starlight in each others’ eyes!) and they suspect us, they know not how, but they suspect fell intent.

A far off rabbit gone to checks for real rabbits cries and no more waiting and it howls in glee.

Take up the sword—the rabbits can barely see through the powder—and crawl, climb, drop down upon the rabbits trapped on their hole! Gwar—its blood boils, it wants to cut the rabbits, all the rabbits, see their insides to stop the lights from coming out, but master wants rabbits whole and ready for ripping later—and since Gwar could never have so many rabbits on its own, without master and white powder, it will wait.

Up with the sword, lunge at the rabbit, his terrible eyes be cursed! Push the rabbit back, push it back into the waiting crawlers, smell his fear—he is in shock and disbelief, cannot see orcs and crawlers so clearly anymore, not with powder in his starlit eyes—and it is hard. Moonlit knives rabbits have, and move well like oil and Gwar’s joints ache for seeing rabbits move so freely.

Curses and pain! Curses the rabbit who did shoot Gwar’s leg, poor leg—they think it gives the other a chance, but the crawlers have stung them, stung them both and they stumble; they have pains in their joints and Gwar rumbles with the pleasure for they can no longer scream and he falls for being stung, that pretty, pretty rabbit.

Gwar pulls the arrow out of its leg; it smiles for the pain, and see all the dropped little rabbits being wrapped and bundled and ready—it was all flawless, no runaways, it’s master’s plan, flawless! It howls and sends crawlers scattering, it kicks the limp rabbit, can smell his fear. The body turns over and Gwar rumbles; the starlight has dimmed in his eyes!
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