paradisalogs | (no subject)

Who: Galadriel and you
What: Nightmares
When: Now
Where: Galadriel's mind
Rating: PG-13. Battle scenes, mostly

Galadriel’s nightmare begins in a cacophony of sights and sounds, intermingling and fading into one another. The sounds of battle assault your ears: steel hitting steel, the snap of bowstrings, the screaming of dying of men. The smell of blood is in the air and you can feel the overwhelming heat of a blazing fire against your face.

As you stand observing, things begin to settle and you find yourself in the midst of a battle along a seaside, a sword in your hand. The landscape might have been beautiful- stunningly so, were it not for the bodies already littering the beach and the clashing of swords still surrounding you. If you have keen eyes, you might spot some familiar golden hair amid the chaos.

Do you seek her out? Do you flee towards the boats landed on the beach? Whatever choice you make, you should make it quickly; the Fëanorians won’t leave you alone forever.

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Oh thank god, actual bows. She grabbed one off a dead body, along with a quiver of arrows. She gripped the bow and started taking down every single thing between herself and the golden haired lady.

"There's no place for anyone! Come on!"

She shakes her head, still caught up in dream; it's all so real, as if it's happening all over again.

"I will not abandon them."

'Them.' Somehow it's clear she doesn't mean the winning side.

Well, all right. "Then we save everyone."

Simple answer, harder solution. Katniss gritted her teeth as she counted the number, but she started yelling to ... well, the losing side, "Back on us! Close ranks!"

And her bow sang as she plunged shot after shot into the fray.

The losing side, many of whom have silver hair, are quick enough to obey. As Galadriel continues to fight back the other elves, however, something filters through.

"We do not win this fight." It's already happened. This is past. And with the realization, the landscape (and their opponents) start to shimmer, to fade in and out, and it's clear that the dream is beginning to shift.

"...so this already happened..."

She looked, as things started to change, fade and shift. She gnawed on her lower lip, her body tensing.

"Then - what happens?"

"Then-" A great many things happen. She wasn't entirely sure what to expect from this, in all honesty. She was prevented from having to answer, however, by a booming voice echoing overhead:

"Tears unnumbered ye shall shed; and the Valar will fence Valinor against you, and shut you out, so that not even the echo of your lamentation shall pass over the mountains. On the House of Fëanor the wrath of the Valar lieth from the West unto the uttermost East, and upon all that will follow them it shall be laid also. Their Oath shall drive them, and yet betray them, and ever snatch away the very treasures that they have sworn to pursue. To evil end shall all things turn that they begin well; and by treason of kin unto kin, and the fear of treason, shall this come to pass. The Dispossessed shall they be for ever. ..."

Their surroundings continued to waver, as if it hasn't quite decided what to be yet. But finally it settled: an open field. It might have been beautiful once, but the fires covering it have scorched the land. A battle was here, or several battles, or perhaps it is not one battlefield but many, all melded together in the elf's mind. Either way, she seems to know what's coming and this time she shows no hesitancy to flee.

"Come. There may be little time."

Katniss wasn't really sure what the hell the booming voice was talking about - but it sounded very much like a curse. She had a very bad feeling about that curse, no less, and gripping the bow and arrows, she followed after Galadriel, looking all around them with suspicious and haunted eyes.

"... It looks like the Seam, after the bombings."

"War changes little, it seems, no matter the place." Her voice is deceptively steady- more flat and numb than calm, really. She keeps looking to the side, as if she's expecting something more.

"Let us hope the cause of this has fled."

"What caused this in the first place?"

She muttered, following after the tall blonde woman, her gaze sliding from side to side uneasily. She didn't like how still this place was. How empty. She even missed the creepy voice.

Galadriel opens her mouth, about to respond, when she is saved the trouble. As if on cue, the flames around them rise and a shadowy figure emerges from them. Rather than explain, she utters one word and one word only: "Run."

There are times that you fight, and then there are times when you run.

Katniss took one look at the shadowy figure, her eyes widened, and she turned and ran. But she did look to make sure the blonde woman with the pointy ears was with her.

Oh, she's with her. Galadriel had no desire to face down a Balrog. You might not think it to look at her, but she's a fair sprinter.

The problem is, of course, that, being creatures of shadow and flame, Balrogs move much swifter than elves or humans can hope to. The creature is gaining; if they have any hope of outrunning the thing, they are going to have to pull some tricky maneuvers.

Shit. Shit. Shit. It's time for some tricky maneuvers, then. Katniss's eyes shoot across the landscape, seeing if there was anything they could use against a GIGANTIC FLAMING BLACK SHADOW MONSTER, or at least a hole they could hide in.

Honestly, this almost made her miss the Games.

Almost.