A/N: Woot! First chapter! Exciting, right? Well anyways, tell me what you think!

 

Mondays. Life sucking, brainwashing, first day-of-the-school-week monday. It’s horrible, right? It was just the cherry on top that I was in the Midwest, (Omaha, to be exact) and it was the last day of school. I could almost taste my freedom.

    A shrill sound echoed through Westside High School's hallways, signaling our sweet freedom. I could almost feel the book pages waiting for me at home, a summer free of worries, free of stress. As I rushed to the door, Mr. Fey, teacher of my last mod of the day, stuck his hand out, waiting for me to shake it. Mr. Fey was my pottery teacher, and personally one of my favorite teachers. His actions was always unexpected, and he had a relaxed air around him. No doubt, he was a total hippie. Complete with a tie-dye cloth pinned behind his desk with a dream catcher right in the middle. 

    I took his had and shook it, turned to the door and almost made it out before I heard "Have a funky summer!" and couldn't help but let a smile break out on my face. I let my long legs rush me as fast as possible without running, down two flights of stairs to the front doors and pushed through the two sets. Huh, I didn’t trip on my face. I looked out upon the sea of faces, all giddy with excitement. I hoped dearly I wouldn't see any of those suckers before the end of summer-with the exception of my friends, though I even doubt that will happen. I scanned through the greasy faces and douche hats to the front where a line of cars was waiting. Spotting the slightly outdated silver Honda Mini-van, I made a slight run-walk for it. A head of red curls, and a smile waited for me inside the sweetly cooled car.

    My mom turned and smiled at me when I got in the car. "Hey girl, how was your last day?" 

    "Mr. Fey shook everyone’s hand, then said 'Have a funky summer!'. It took a lot not to laugh at that." I grinned back at her. "But I'm so ready to relax and be as lazy as possible, watching batman."

    She laughed and shook her head in mock shame, slapping me lightly on the knee. I couldn't help but laugh, her smile contagious. 

    "Hey, Aaron is moving in this weekend. Better hide all your snacks while you can."

    I groaned, but I was happy. Lately my brother has been busy with college, and I missed him, being the one out of four siblings still stuck at home. Before all this history teacher business, he was a pretty laid back guy. In fact, he had hosted a few Halloween parties in his day. The last one he was dressed up as a seventies disco dancer, complete with a partner in crime, neon orange and yellow, and bellbottoms. Oh, and did I mention it was a girl's costume? I surprised that it didn’t rip every time he stepped out onto the dance floor. 

    But when he became friends with these twins, one of the sisters completely grabbed his attention, and after the first rejection, totally 'cleaned up' his look. In my opinion, now he looks like an over-enthusiastic hipster with slicked back hair, thick rimmed glasses, and cardigans. Don’t forget the cardigans. He still had the same humor, that some times what my mom called "Tongue and cheek" humor. I still loved him and my siblings dearly.

    We pulled up in front of our house, nestled on the top of the hill in front of our street. It was a fairly large house, but nothing out of the ordinary. Its burnt orange porch greeting us at the top of the 5-step flight of stairs. Inside, warm colors greeted my eyes, dark red purple walls in the living room to the left, a leather couch set centered around a worn wooden coffee table and a T.V. nestled in a Narnia wardrobe. To my right is a wall, blocking my sight from the hallway that stretch from my room and to my parents current bedroom, with a bathroom in between. looking down this wall, you would see a variety of instruments hanging up, from a violin, a viola, and cello, to a guitar, banjo, and mandolin, a door to my hallway in between. A dinning room sat at the end of the large room, a huge table in the middle scarred with scratches, paint, nail polish, and water water spots. To the left of the dinning room was the kitchen, and through the kitchen to the left, there were two flights of stairs leading down to a carpeted basement, where my mom and dad's workplace lied.  Between the dinning and living room, a slightly hidden door was there, that led up to the attic and the 'Master bedroom', which was  past the attic in a hallway through a door.

    What my destination was: my mom's office. Her computer was there, and it was calling my name. And since I just got my school laptop taken away, her computer was my only contact to the internet and my social network. I knew my parents didn't like me 'wasting' my time on the computer, but really, the only reason I liked to go on it was because I loved reading. I'd found some websites where bloggers posted their own stories, including Fanfiction and their own originals. I'm, as you could say, completely addicted. It was completely convenient too, counting the factor that I'm a unemployed teen relying on my parents allowance, so I couldn't buy many books. 

    Books, were most definitely, my inspiration and escape in life. Without books, I wouldn't be able to create art as easily or be happy as much. Books served as my best friend, my obsession, and one of the only things in this world I couldn't live without. You could say they were my true love.

    The longer I sat there the more I read and the more I was hooked. I continued this for a while.

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Its three weeks into the summer and I've become a hermit. I've done some things, including developing an interest in graffiti art and have drawn a little, but mostly I would read. 

    One of the things that draws me into reading was the excitement, the abnormal, and how fantastic the stories were. All the exact opposite of what happens in Omaha. Nothing. Sure, we have one of the highest murder rates in the country and Omaha is known for their Henry Doorly Zoo, but that's pretty much it. I try to get out, like walking to the local comic book store or going to the book store, but I'm just not comfortable there. I'm pretty sure I have a social defect. So I would either read at home on the IPad or go on my mom's computer. Tonight was one of those computer nights. Tonight, was also date night for my parents-which meant alone time for me. I was milking it all for what its worth-eating at the computer, and watching my favorite shows illegally. My mom's office was pretty plain. It had a desk with a computer, two printers, the normal office supplies, and a file cabinet to the side. I mean, yeah, there was a weight machine in the back but what do you expect when you have an office at home? One of the walls was a brick wall with a small wooden door. About two feet wide and three feet tall and painted over, it blended well into the corner. I was told by my parents that it led to the inside of our porch but the inner child in me wanted to think that it lead to another world, maybe even Narnia. And considering how they found this house, that wouldn't be that out of the ordinary.

    Years before, my parents went looking for a new house, tired of living with my uncle and looking for some privacy with their new child with another one on the way. The already born child would be the eldest of our litter, Jesse. The unborn would be Aaron. When they found this house, they thought it was a dream come true. Sure, it was expensive for them, but it would fit their growing family perfectly. What the real estate company didn't tell them until they bought the house was that the old woman that owned the house before, had died in there. When her family found her body-being worried from not hearing from her for a week-saw that the house was filled with herbs and different strange books in foreign indecipherable languages. The old woman's family just thought she went senile and started to think herself as a witch. 

    I always thought it was cool that I lived in a witch's house, and would always search it for a possible hidden spell book, or a potion. Much to my disappointment, I found neither. As the years passed, I stopped looking. But even after my childhood years, I am still suspicious of that small, painted door in my mother's office. 

    But at the moment I was occupied with my mom's computer, so I didn't acknowledge it was there. I was just sitting there, minding my own business-listening to Imagine Dragons's song 'Radioactive'-when I heard it. A distinctive knock. My brows drew together in confusion. Why would someone be knocking on the door at midnight? I heard the knock again, this time with a little more force. I felt my panic rise as I turned the music off. That wasn't coming from the door in my dad's office. No, it wasn't in the next room - but frighteningly closer than that. I swung around in the office chair to face the small, three by two, painted over door. 

    I was internally, freaking out. How was this possible? Was there a zombie under the porch? Did a homeless man decide to camp out under our house? Where they going to kill me? As I thought this line of dark thoughts, one not much better than the other, a third knock sounded from the door. The sound made my blood run cold. I slowly, got off the chair, and crawled on my hands and knees to the door. My limbs were shaking, like I just ran a marathon. My palms started to clam up, a cold sweat on my forehead. Time seemed to slow down as I made my way to the door, seconds seemed like hours, minutes like days. You know all those horror movies that has that one girl, that you just know is going to die, because they make the stupid decision to open the door, or go after a creepy sound? Well, you can scream and yell at me all you want, but being scared shitless and thinking don't go well together, and I was definitely not doing both at the same time that moment.

    I reached the door. It was locked, like always. It’s lock looked old, but hardly noticeable with the paint covering it. Faintly, in the back of my mind, I thought it looked almost medieval-in a Celtic, sort of way. As I reached for the door, thats when my thinking set in. WHAT ARE YOU DOING ELIZABETH? TRYING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED? DID YOU NOT EVEN PAY ATTENTION TO ALL THOSE HORROR MOVIES YOU'VE WATCHED? YOU'RE GOING TO END UP LIKE THAT STUPID GIRL IN EVERY HORROR MOVIE THAT DIES. DIES, ELIZABETH. NOW DON'T YOU OPEN THAT DOOR!  

    At this point I’ve realized it didn't have a handle, so I timidly raised a shaking fist, and rapped on the door three times. All I got after that was silence, like whatever was on the other side of that door was thinking. It was hell thinking about what could happen next. Would I get pulled in? Stabbed? Decapitated? Incinerated? EATEN? As much as I would've loved to continued, there was a rapid knocking at the door. Three quick knocks, just like mine. I started to hyperventilate. I was really going to die now. Why did I have to knock? Because I had to be that dumb girl in every horror movie, thats why. I looked down to my pants. The police were going to find my dead, mangled body in super Mario pajama pants. Mario's stupid smile mocking me, saying 'You're going to die, stupid girl! HAHAHA!'. Ok, now I really needed to get myself together. I slowly, cautiously, leaned to the door. I know its dumb, and it'll most likely get me killed, but I quietly whispered a timid "Hello?" to the door.

    There was no response. 

    Now, seriously freaked out and having a panic attack, I raced up the stairs to my room and jumped into my bed. My heart racing, I realized that I haven't been this scared since I learned about Slender man, and the idea of my bed right next to a window terrified me. 

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The next day I woke up around 12 p.m. and just sat there. I still thought what happened last night was a dream. A weird - frighteningly real - dream. One that I didn't die in (thank god). As I sat there, my thoughts started to wander. They brought up the fact that my parents are going out to a bible study with some friends tonight and usually come back, after having coffee, around twelve  a.m….crap. I'm going to be all alone in the house with that stupid, creepy-as-crap door. I could say that my dog Jack would keep me safe, but the truth is my dog is a shnoodle pansy. (Schnauzer x poodle) He makes friends with whatever comes through our front door, and it doesn't help that he's only two feet tall. And I know that my cats wouldn't give two craps or a hairball if I died. They would most likely eat my dead carcass… Lovely. I have some awesome thoughts. 

    As the day wore on, so did my nerves. I stayed out of the basement and my mom and dad's workplace as much as possible. So far, no one was suspicious of my actions -  maybe because I was reading on the IPad for most of the day. I even forgot to eat, which is a big deal for Elizabeth Carmela Nigro. All too soon, six o' clock came around to bite me in the arse. 

    "Hey Mom” Pause, let the wheels turn. Click! “I think I heard that there was a wanted convict in the neighborhood, maybe you guys should stay home…" I was desperate. I did not want to stay home alone with that creepy door. My mom gave me a skeptical look.

    "Why so concerned Eli? Don't you love it when we go out? You were fine that one time our house got egged." her voice sounded like she was on the verge of laughing.

    "I just…uh… lonely?" I was running out of ideas. Wheels were crammed.

    "What, you afraid that an army of rabbits from Monty Python are going to get you?" My dad teased. I just glared at him, which made him laugh.

    Mom just smiled and kissed me on the cheek. "Don't worry honey. We'll be back, and then you'll want us gone again. Lock the door after we leave." I groaned but let them leave, and just as requested, locked the front door after they left. 

    I turned to the house, and was met by silence. Suddenly, I felt a wave of fear wash over me. My hands clammed up,  started to shake. I started to walk with a purpose. Then, my head started to spin, but I still walked on. Once I reached the stairs, I looked down. They seemed to stretch out, and multiply, giving the look of the staircase of death. With each step I took, I saw the shadows grow longer, stretch and twist, reaching for me. I leaned against the wall for support as I made it down the remaining stairs. I didn't want to feel this way in my own house any more. I lived here, for christ's sake, and I didn't want to fear every shadow, every flicker in the corner of my eye. I was going to end it. I was going to be ready, when the time comes around. And to be ready, I needed a gun. 

    Of course, your thinking that it’s totally rational for a teenager to have a gun. And lucky for you, we don't. We DO however, have two BB guns, and I intend to use the hell out of them. My hands shook as I took out the first one, modeled after a pistol, bearing six slots for six little round balls of pain. As I loaded them, I questioned myself. Would it be enough to scare this son-of-a female dog away? I didn't know, but if it made whoever angry, I was gonna have a phone by me. 

    So there I sat. 

    So there I waited. 

    So there I got too tired and fell asleep. Looking back now, I think it was the stress’s fault.

 

A/N: Soooo? Thoughts? Comments? I would like to know what you think of it so far!

2: The Man

A/N: Okay. Second chapter. Hope I get more coments from this one. Anyways, enjoy!

 

I groaned as I opened my eyes. I had a very uncomfortable knot in my side because…I was sleeping… I was sleeping?! Crap...

     All that was running through my mind that moment is that why was why am I still breathing? I looked over to the computer screen and saw it was 10:37 p.m., giving me good deal of time before my parents came home, leaving me with two more hours with this stupid door. I sighed, and sat up in a proper position facing the door. Looking to my side, I saw my trusty gadgets-BB gun and phone. I took the gun filled with little balls of pain in my hand and aimed it at the door. I'm not gonna lie, I was excited to use it. The only other time I've ever used our BB guns was when my dad let me shoot my gingerbread house in the back yard after christmas, and it was awesome. I hit the gingerbread man's head. 

    I let out a heavy gust of air and lowered the BB gun. I shouldn't be so scared of a dumb door. I could have dreamed it all, or just imagined it. These thoughts of doubt flew out of my mind when I heard a sound. A rapid knock. I shakily raised the BB gun back to aiming at the door. The knock sounded different this time, almost hurried. It was a good few minuted before I heard another sound come from it. And it was a sound that filled me with dread. 

    It was a slam. My heart rate sped up. They were breaking in! WHAT THE HELL?! Why would they want to break in? To eat me, stab me, use my blood for a ritual? I stopped thinking when a second slam followed, my real fear set in. Scrambling to my feet I ran to the side of the door, so I could just shoot them when they came in (thank you spy movies). I was trembling all over, jumping when I heard the third slam. This time, I saw the door move from the force. Whoever was slamming into the door was big, and no doubt that the next slam would be the final. I steeled myself up and focused my trembling hands to aim the gun towards the opening of the door. 

    What happened next was going to be imprinted in my mind forever. Mentally scarred, so to speak. 

    The door burst from the wall with a 'Wham!' and a figure rolled in following the door. There was soot and dirt everywhere, clearly seen on my mom's pristine creamy carpet. I fell back, too stunned to absorb what the heck was going on around me. Gun slipping out of my hand, I pressed my back against the wall by the door-or where the door used to be. I brought my knees up and stared wide eyed and the heap that collided into the comfy office chair, knocking it over from the force. All I could see was the grime everywhere and the 'creature' that was still in a pile on the floor unmoving-not even a twitch. I thought that 'creature' was an appropriate name for it since I didn't know what the heck it was quite yet. I took this opportunity to study my enemy. 

    What I saw wasn't a cannibal, homeless man, or Gollum. Who ever it was had long hair, which looked about a foot and a half long, a dirty golden color. It was covered in a fur, and had huge boots that led to a big body. My eyes widened even more when I heard a groan. Scrambling up the wall, I braced myself, gun and phone completely forgotten. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD IT'S A PERSON. I was-internally-a total mess. How the HELL did they get under OUR PORCH? The only door to it was in this room, and it just broke it clean off its hinges! Person in question groaned again, and moved. THAT didn't help my mental breakdown one bit. It shifted again, sat up, and looked around the room in a almost confused manner. I didn't move one muscle while this was happening, frozen by my fear. They brought their knees up, using them as support to stand. 

    I couldn't help but let my eyes bulge out of their sockets from what I saw. Good GOD he was huge! Well, he was taller than my dad so that counted as big. He had a strong face with a bit of a crooked nose, given the look that he's broken it before. His hair-dirty golden color- was held back by braids with metal clasps glistening at the ends. He had a scruff of facial hair, stubble from not shaving in a while. His eyes were a warm green, but calculating. His shoulders were, as guessed, clad in a grey-ish fur, covering a dark green tunic with celtic embroidery at the edges. He had worn, leather pants tucked in to below-the-knee boots, which were strapped. I couldn't help but notice the axe and shield on his back along with the two swords on both of his sides…wait… A SWORD? WHAT THE HELL? NORMAL PEOPLE DON'T CARRY AROUND SWORDS AND SHIELDS! 

    As I continued this internal war with reasoning and reality, the intruder was stretching one arm over his head, no doubt from his sudden entrance. But when he turned at the waist to do some more stretching, his actions froze when he saw me. We stared at each other in what seemed like hours, eyes locked. I could imagine what he saw. A wide-eyed, terrified girl with big blue green eyes framed with light redish-brown hair, using the wall to support her trembling body. He made the first move. Turning his body to face me, I continued to stare. He was also, the first to speak.

    "You do not look like a witch to me. Are you really Lydia the witch?" While he questioned me, I could see his eyes looking me over, studying, assessing me. He was met by my stunned silence. As it became clear I wasn't going to talk soon, his brows drew together in concern. Taking a step closer, he asked me "Are you alri-"

    I couldn't handle it. I snapped. Letting out a small scream, I ran up the stairs to my bedroom. For a second, he seemed stunned from my sudden disappearance-but soon he regained his senses and chased my sprinting form up the stairs, scaring a startled cat away from our path with a hiss. I could hear his heavy foot falls behind me, gaining. I let out a yelp and reached my door, swung it open, closing it in record timing-effectively slamming it in his golden face with surprise written all over it. I then proceeded to shove a chair under the door nob in hopes that it would hold him back. I then, because I'm stupid, jumped onto my bed and covered myself with my blanket because of course, thats totally going to keep me safe from a huge six foot pile of muscle.

    I heard the door handle jiggle, followed by a string of colorful curses. After a moment of silence, a loud noise cracked through. The chair holding my door was rendered ineffective, flying from the door as he forced himself in my room. I peeked from my cocoon only to see his stormy eyes locked on my covered form. 

    Well, wasn't he just a bundle of sunshine. 

    As I was thinking about my funeral arrangements, I felt the covers being ripped away. Two big ruff hands gripped me, pulling me up from the bed and into a kneeling position on my mattress. I looked up into his face expecting the worst; anger, disgust,  a thirst for murder. But I what I saw was completely unexpected. It was pure, unwavering, concern. As I looked up into his face, it visibly relaxed seeing I was fine. He opened his mouth, letting questions fall out one after another, a never ending string.

    "Are you okay? Are you Hurt? Why were you running? Did I scare you? Are you the witch? What is this place? Why would a tree be this big on the inside? What are the strange objects in here? What is wrong with your face? Are you Laughing?" After he realized I wasn't responding, due to my fit of hysterical laughter, the line of never-ending questions stopped. I was just laughing, with tears streaming down my face causing my stomach start to hurt with the effort. I slowly started to quiet down, to a few hiccups every few seconds. Still being held by him, I finally spoke.

    "I thought you were going to kill me!" I blurted out, followed by a few more hiccup laughs.

    "Why would I kill you, and unarmed woman? Do you think I have no honor?" He looked at me again, probably seriously questioning my sanity at this moment. 

    "Well, sir Viking, you have an axe, two swords, and a shield. AND, I suspect you were the one knocking on the door the other night, right?" I got a nod. "So you burst into my home, after seriously freaking me out the night before, and come rolling in with sharpened weapons, and expect me NOT to be frightened for my life?" After I was done, he had the courtesy to look guilty. But that didn't last long when he asked-

    "Whats a viking?" Just adding to the other questions. Awesome. 

    I sighed-internally just giving up on reality. "Let go of my poor arms, and I'll tell you." He immediately did as he was asked. I sighed again, utterly exhausted from the emotional, and physical rush I had from the 'running for my life' moment. Slumping into a sitting position, I began. "Vikings are people from the past, like at the beginning of the century. They would plunder the settlements in their own country, but soon they couldn't plunder any more. Then they created a new type of boat, that would be able to sail across the sea, leading them to England. There they found monasteries and helpless monks, slaughtering them and taking their valuables." During my explanation, I could see a glimmer of recognition in his eyes.

    He smiled. "Ah! So you mean to tell me that I look like a sea warrior? That would be a complement, dear lady." and at that he bowed to me. I looked up at him in confusion. What the heck was a sea warrior? And why was he talking so proper?

    "What do you mean by 'Sea Warrior'?" I just wanted some sense to this madness. 

    His eyes focused from a distant memory back to me. "A Sea Warrior, my Lady, is a race of men who have conquered the ways of the sea, and have used it to gain great wealth for their people. They are very much like us Dwarves in many ways. That is why we are in such good relations! They brew some of the best ale!" His eyes lit up at the last few words, giving the vibe of an exited eight-year-old. But I could care less about that. I could feel my face slack, and the color drain from my cheeks.

    "Did you say 'Dwarf'?" I whispered.    

    He gave me a funny look. "Of course I did. Have you never met a Dwarf before?" Disbelief laced his voice.

    "No! I've never met a dwarf in my life! How can you be a dwarf? Aren't you supposed to be short if your a dwarf?!" My voice was steadily growing higher and higher, I was very close to hysteria. As I spoke, a look of panic started to wash over his face. And he should-an angry woman was not something to be trifled with. Walking forward slowly, he gently pushed me back into a sitting position in my bed. I didn't even realize that I've risen into a half standing position. I blushed and sat down. 

    "My lady, you say you have never met a dwarf. Have you ever encountered any other race besides men? Elves? Dragons?" He was kneeling in front of the bed and me, and talking like he was talking to an upset child.

    I sniffed. "Of course I am. There are no dwarves here. Or any other bat-shit crazy stuff, like dragons or elves. There is nothing magical here, in this world. Where are you from?" His eyes widened.

    He whispered "By Dain's beard, where did that bloody door take me? All I wanted was the witch's house."

    I looked him hard in the eye. "You sir, are trespassing in my house, in the twenty - first century on earth. Where the hell did you come from?"

    He gave me a quizzical look. "I come from a land with 'Bat-shit crazy' stuff with dragons and elves. Where I come from, the world is ripe with magic." I ignored his pointed use of my own curse, and instead focused on his other words. Dragons? Elves? No, impossible. If I was a dungeons and Dragons nerd, I would be having a happy stroke. But I wasn't. I just liked to read. While I gaped at him, he took this opportunity to speak again. "Elus recommended you, but I am now doubting his words of your healing abilities." giving me a quizzical look, he sighed and pulled himself up and pinched between his eyes, then looked at me. "Do you have any potion to help with fevers?" He asked in a hopeful voice.

    Shaken out of my daze, I looked up at his tall figure. "I'm no witch, but I do have medicine that gets rid of fevers. Why?" A look of hope flashed through his eyes.

    "My brother, has fallen ill due to an infected battle wound. The wizard Elus recommended seeing a witch here, but I do not think you are her. Can you still help him?" I cringed at the term 'infected battle wound'. I had NO IDEA how to treat an infected wound, except for a paper cut. Thats why there was emergency rooms. But apparently, witches replace emergency rooms there. Wonderful. I thought back to the car accident my sister was in one year with dad, and the staff infection she got before. Yeah, I think we still had those antibiotics, bunches of bandages and a butt load of other medicine that could help with a wound. I was probably going to mess the guy up even more than he was, but I wanted to try to help. 

    I stood up from the bed. "Where is he?" He took my arm and led me back downstairs. When we arrived back where we started, he let go of me and went back through the door. And, to my astonishment, there wasn't just darkness were the door used to be. There was moonlight streaming in through the opening, and I could make out roots of a tree but couldn't see anything else when two figures shoved themselves through the small doorway. The stranger's brother was also big, so it must be hereditary, I concluded. He was similar to his brother, wearing similar clothes, just with a few different details, including that his tunic was a dark blue. His hair, unlike his brother, was dark and didn't have as many braids, but was still long. His eyes were a dark brown, but was clouded with fever. Goldie looked at me with a face that said 'what do I do with this thing'. Momentary stunned at the sight of another 'dwarf', I pointed back up the stairs to my room. He just grunted and heaved his sagging brother up the stairs. 

 

A/N: WOOT! Second chapter! It would be very appreciated if you commented your thoughts!

3: The Dwarves

I let out a ragged breath. This night was not what I thought it would be. Who knew that there was a FRICKEN’ WORLD HIDDEN UNDER MY PORCH? All I thought would be there was a bat! Not two fully grown men-er, I mean dwarves. How the hell were they counted as dwarves where they come from? They were both six feet tall, and had broad shoulders. They were far from what I thought a dwarf was as a child, short and stalky (well, they were still stalky). 

    Something clattered upstairs. Regaining my swirling thoughts, I trudged upstairs. Arriving in the kitchen, I grabbed all that I could from our medical cabinet, including bandages, alcohol, swabs, disinfectant, and fever reducer. Popping my head out of the kitchen, I saw no sign of the two dwarven men. Where did they go? Looking around, I found them in my room. The darker brother was on my bed, with a pillow shoved behind his head. His brother seemed to have already started to clean the wound, cutting off the tunic and exposing his bloody chest. I nearly gagged when I saw the claw marks, oozing all that blood. I wasn’t very good with blood. Typical. Hearing me enter, the golden brother looked up at me. Swallowing my fears, I walked over with my supplies.

    Kneeling beside him next to the bed, I looked over at him from the corner of my eye. “What...what happened?” I asked hesitantly. Looking at his brother, fury brewed in his eyes. 

    “We were ambushed.” His tone signaled that he wouldn’t talk about it any more. I gave a curt nod, and started to work. Looking at the dwarf’s wound, I could see I needed to clean the blood away. 

    I looked up to the dwarf next to me. “Um, if you don’t mind, could I know your name?” I asked tentatively. 

    Looking over to me slightly, I saw a grim smile touch his face. “My name, is Farin my lady. My brother’s name is Arin. May I have the blessing of your name, fair lady?” I blushed at his last comment.

    Still blushing, I started to work on the wounds once again. “My name is Elizabeth.” My voice was barely above a whisper. But his smile gave away the fact that he heard it. Blushing even more like an idiot, I told him to go get towels, (our old ones that mom wouldn’t miss, I made sure of that) and a bowl of warm water. When he asked where to get the water I decided it would be best for me to get it. I didn’t want to go through the effort of explaining how we got water that was both warm and cold from a metal pipe. 

    Dipping cut pieces of towel in the water, I started to gently clean the claw marks. Studying Arin’s chest as I worked, I couldn’t help but blush at the amount of muscle that covered his chest and stomach. He was tan, and had a dusting of chest hair that wasn’t unpleasant at all. I always was more attracted to bearded men, probably because all of the men in my family had beards. So when I saw that scruff on not only Arin, but his brother too, I couldn’t hide the blush adding to my already blushing face. 

    Arin’s chest was covered with thick muscles, and scars littering all over, that I didn’t even want to think of where they came from. Cleaning out most of the excess blood, I started to gently apply the disinfectant. When I started to dab the wound, I heard an audible groan from him, rumbling through his chest. Realizing that his brother is regaining consciousness, Farin kneeled near where his brother’s head was lying on the mattress. And to my complete surprise and utter horror, slapped him upside the head. “Wake up, ye bloody fool! You’ve been sleeping for too long now! Wake up and meet the lass!” 

    When he went to slap his brother again, I caught his arm. “What are you doing?! You can’t hit him! He’s injured, for God’s sake!” 

    Turning to look at me, with his arm still in my small hand, he flashed me a sheepish smile. “He’s been lazying about far to long. I would also bet he would want to meet his stunning nurse.” Giving me another dazzling smile, (and I stayed stunned for about three seconds) he gave his brother another ‘whack!’, this time earning a string of curses from Arin. 

    “What in Dain’s name is going on? OW! BROTHER, STOP HITTING ME!” I couldn’t help but let out a giggle as I saw the brother’s bickering but stopped immediately when I saw Arin’s chest start to bleed open again. Letting out a ‘Dammit!’ I slapped away Farin and shoved Arin back down so he was in a laying position again. Surprised at his sudden movement, Arin looked up to see a small girl with a determined expression firmly holding a hand down on his chest. Seeing the look on his brother’s face, Farin chuckled.

    “Now brother, are you not glad now that I woke you?” Hearing the smirk in his voice, I looked over to see Farin with his arms crossed over his broad chest, a smug look plastered over his face as he looked down at his brother. Arin, aware now that his face had slackened looking at the girl, quickly let a grin cover his face. I didn’t trust those faces at all. I did have two brothers, and I leared to always be weary when they made those faces. 

    Ignoring the expressions they were giving each other, I quickly started to disinfect his wounds again, earning a hiss and a grimace from Arin. “What is that?” he choked out.

    I winced in sympathy. I knew, it probably hurt like a bitch. “Its going to help keep your wounds clean. I know it stings, but it’ll get better.” After I was done disinfecting it, I started to slather the white paste that we used for Rebekah’s (my sister) staff infection on his wounds, effectively cooling down the angry red wounds. Looking at my work, I realized that stitches didn’t even cross my mind. Looking closer at the marks, I soon determined that he would be fine without them. 

    Standing up, I motioned for him to sit up slowly, and with my help he did. Covering him up with the bandages, I started to roll the gauze around his chest. Dread washed through me. I had to wrap it around his chest, his wonderfully muscular chest...control your hormones, woman! Mentally giving myself a slap, I continued to wrap, each time bringing my head dangerously close to his wonderful chest. Each time I did, I could have sworn I heard a rumble come from his chest, but dismissed it. Why would he make a noise like that?

     When I finished, it took all I had not to blush like an idiot, but failed all the same. From the smirk that Arin gave me, I could tell both the brothers noticed my red cheeks. Feeling a hand on my shoulder, I looked to see a smirking Farin look down at me. “Thanks lass. When we were attacked, I didn’t have the supplies to properly clean my brother’s wounds. It’s lucky we were so close to your tree Elus told us about.” 

    Confusion washed over me. Tree? I didn’t have a tree. I lived in a house. “What tree?” I asked. 

    It was their turn be confused. “Lass, we entered your home through a tree with a door.” Seeing my alarmed expression, Farin remembered what I said earlier, muttering no dragons, elves, or dwarves...

    Farin set a determined expression on his face, and looked to his still shirtless brother. If people were telepathic, I bet this is what they would look like, I thought to myself. Both nodding at the same time, they started to gather their weapons, all the while keeping a firm grip on me. 

    Panic started to rise up inside me. Why were they acting so strange? Why aren’t they letting go of me, like I might bolt? After Arin gingerly pulled a new blue tunic over his head, Farin passed me to him, using his now free hands to swing both his axe, and shield back over his shoulders. Both brothers had determined expressions on their faces. “What are you guys doing?” I asked quietly. Farin took hold of my arm again, but this time he hooked an arm under my knees, lifting me up and bringing me to his chest. I might of imagined it, but I though I felt a purr run through him. 

    Now that both Arin and Farin were fully dressed again, they started to walk back downstairs, Farin holding me tightly against his warm chest. “You’re so light.” he breathed into my ear, making me shiver, clearly avoiding my question asked earlier. I clutched onto the fur covering his shoulders as we approached that stupid door, or what was left of it. Seeing its remains, a chuckle rumbled through Arin.

    “Brother, you didn’t have to break the lass’s door. Did you try knocking first?” He joked.

    “Of course I did. I’m not a total brute, I’ll have you know.” Both let rumbling chuckles through their chests. What they were planning, was beyond me. I couldn’t do anything against Farin’s arms, no matter how much I struggled. It was as if his arms were made of steel. 

    Seeing me struggle, Arin walked closer to me and whispered in my ear. “Now lass, don’t be too hard. We won’t harm ya. All we want to do is have you meet a trusted friend.” Shivering from his warm breath, I saw a smug smile touch his lips. “Farin, let me hold her.” Farin’s arms tightened a fraction, as if to display a possessiveness, but handed me gently over all the same. Seeing that this would be my only escape, I started to struggle furiously, but it was in vain. Those brothers didn’t have those muscles for looks. As soon as I was in Arin’s arms, he started to whisper in my ear again, “Lass, we won’t harm ya. Just let us hold and protect you.” I could feel him smile in triumph as I shivered again, earning a laugh from Farin.

    “Brother, we better get moving. Elus is waiting.” At that, they started to move towards the door. I stopped struggling, realizing that they were far too strong for me. Sighing in defeat, I watch us approach the doorway. Farin Stepped though first, and Arin and I waited. When Farin gave us a signal, we stepped through that stupid door, and to the other side.

 

A/N: PLEASE BE A GOOD PERSON AND COMMENT. I DON'T CARE IF YOU SAY 'KITTENS', JUST PLEASE COMMENT!

4: The Other Side

A/N: So. Three chapters, and no comments. Well. I'm starting to get worried that no one likes my story...BUT ANYWAYS ignore my wallowing. ON WITH THE STORY!

The moment Arin stepped through that doorway to the other side, a voice screamed ‘WRONG!’ in my mind. Vision going bleary, I could feel a force wrap itself around my skin, forcing its way under. Letting out a strangled gasp, I started to struggle. This time, from the pain weaving its way into my veins. In the distance, I could faintly hear alarmed voices plummeting my writhing form with questions I could not answer, my throat constricting around my frozen screams. I felt myself being shifted in one of the dwarves arms, their forms starting to run with urgency. Every step they took, every jostle, pain would bloom in its wake. I’ve never felt this before. It was as if I was being changed physically by the muscle spasms and bone twisting, a war within my body. Growing weary of fighting the tsunami of pain trying to drown me, I slowly let darkness take my vision. Before I gave in, blurred trees flashed before my eyes. Trees? I though groggily, There aren’t any trees under my porch... Then blissful darkness took me.

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Farin was nervous. In fact, he was beyond nervous. He was at the point of panic. Yes, he was nervous when he and his brother Arin was ambushed, but he knew they would both survive. They were warriors, built to survive attacks. But looking at the small, stilled form clutched in Arin’s grasp, Farin couldn’t help but have a swirl of emotions bubble up inside him. Both for Arin’s pale, blood drained face, and the small form of a girl wrapped in his embrace. Both needed Elus’s help. 

    Regret was added to his pile of emotions. Why did he even bring her here, a world foreign to her own? Farin internally cursed his rash behavior. All he was thinking at the time was that Elus would want to meet the small witch, a possible successor to Lydia, and that he wanted to show the small girl things that she’s never seen before, a new world full of elves, dragons, and ‘bat-shit crazy’ things like that...

    Farin thought back to the night before, the night they were ambushed. He and Arin were traveling with Elus, to a bigger gathering of many Dwarrows. After the scuffle, Elus gave one look at Arin, and deemed his wounds to be too large for him to fully heal. After dressing Arin’s wounds as best as they could, Elus appointed him to bring his brother to a certain witch, who lived (conveniently) not far from their temporary camp. Confused but determined, Farin had brought his brother to the directed tree, with a door in it. Farin had though it strange, that a tree would grow such a thing, and could only be entered at night. But since a trusted friend had told him of this place, he chose to ignore his questions, assuming they would be answered with time. 

    Bending down, Farin knocked urgently on the door. Dawn was coming soon, and with it the disappearance of the door. Farin remembered Elus’s warning. ‘Ye must reach Lydia’s tree before dawn, for it’s door is enchanted to disappear in de light of the mornin’ sun, closed to every visitor ‘til night takes de forest again ‘te ‘morrow.’ Frightened by the thought of waiting another day to aid his brother, Farin knocked again,  panic laced through the sounds. After waiting for a time, when the sun’s faint light turn the black night to grey, he knocked a third time. This time, though, was different. Farin felt his heart speed up in anticipation as he heard three, distinctive knocks, hesitantly responding to his earlier rapping. He mimicked the faint noise, and waited. Looking up at the sky, Farin felt his stomach drop to his feet. It was now dawn. 

    Looking back to the tree, a strange sight met his eyes. The door, which had moments ago looked easily accessible, was now slowly being drawn, and engulfed by the tree. The bark shifted, and molded itself to cover the door, blocking Farin from his brother’s aid. Sighing, Farin sat down in defeat. Looks like he will just have to wait, and tend the best he could to his brother’s wounds for the time being.

 

The next night, Farin felt himself growing desperate. This time, He thought I’ll get in that tree, welcome or not. He and Arin had discussed their predicament during their spare time waiting, planning for Arin to stay out of the tree until Farin came to retrieve him, both brothers knowing that he was still (even in his weakened state) capable of protecting himself.

     Through out the day, Arin had stayed conscious. Farin had expected him to pass out from blood loss, but Arin was strong of both mental and physical health, resisting the urge to fall into darkness. But no matter how strong one is, they could only withstand so much blood loss before feeling the effects, even a sturdy dwarf.

    Giving the door a quick knock, Farin waited a moment impatiently before slamming his shoulder into the door. When he slammed the door a second time, it gave way a bit. Knowing the third will be the final, Farin mentally prepared himself for the third slam.

    What he experienced on the other side was far from anything he had expected.     Swiftly rolling through the doorway from the force of his entrance, (door now in pieces) he immediately felt the effects of the sudden intrusion, muscle clamping in uncomfortable knots. As he stood, Farin looked at his new surroundings. Surprise flooded through him, looking at the strange white grass growing on the ground, the strange blocky objects stacked on a table(?), and the odd seat in the corner with black blocks attacked to many pulleys and wires, far too complicated for Farin to figure out what ever its purpose was for.

    Twisting his waist to get the knots in his back, something caught his eye.

    A girl. 

    Human looking, but about half as big of what he was used to seeing the race of  men grow. Usually, humans would stand about ten hand lengths taller than the average dwarf, but this little human stood at least four hands smaller than his own height. From her appearance, he assumed she was in the middle of blooming, and was already forming nicely. In the split second he could study her, Farin saw honey colored hair framing a heart shaped face, sporting full pink lips and sparkling blue green eyes. Assuming this was the ‘Lydia’ Elus had mentioned, he started to speak to her. “You do not look like a witch to me. Are you really Lydia the witch?" Looking closer, he realized she was trembling. Worry filled him and he took a step forward. “Are you alri-” 

    But before he could finish his sentence, she shot out of the room like an arrow. Alarmed by her sudden departure, Farin quickly regained his wits. Concerned for the reason of the human girl’s disappearance, he followed her, avoiding a strange furry creature that spat and hissed at and him, quickly gaining on her small form racing into a room - effectively slamming the door on his nose. Rubbing his now throbbing nose, he started rattling the door nob - only to find it blocked. Farin let out a string of curses. Cursing his ability to help the girl from whatever she was running from, he slammed his shoulder into the door with urgency, flinging the object holding the door into a nearby wall, which he paid no heed to as he strode towards the girl’s strange bed.    

    Pulling her shocked form from her covers, Farin started to ask one question after another, stressing over her wellbeing. 

    Many questions, answers, confusing conclusions, and comparing of cultures later, Farin discovered that it was none other than himself that frightened the girl to the point of fleeing. Looking back now at the situation, she had every reason to. Clad in his traveling clothing, which included his best chain mail, weapons and furs, he didn’t look very much like the civilized dwarf he was. 

    At the mentioning of his world, Arin’s face flashed in his mind. Right. He had a witch to consult. Well, Farin thought back, a smile forming on his otherwise grim face as he thought back to the fiery girl’s reaction when he mentioned his brother’s injuries, At least she isn’t an old hag, witch or not. Looking over again at Elizabeth’s now still form, a fresh wave of regret washed over him. All he wanted to do was share an adventure, and see more of that sparkle in her eye. And, ah, introduce her to Elus, of course. Yes, that was the only reason for his rash thinking, for adventure, his brother, and friend... 

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Arin’s chest was throbbing. It was a dull, but deep throb that he felt to his toes. Tightening his hold on the small form he held, Arin thought back to when he first saw Elizabeth just a few moments before. It felt like ages ago. When he awoke, Arin thought for a split, tiny second that he had died and gone to feast with Creators. But as soon as he saw his brother’s smirking face, the thought was quickly dismissed. 

    The second thought he had was why wasn’t he by the tree. Confusion turned quickly to realization when he remembered that they had been waiting for the witch, and  Farin had apparently found her. Elizabeth had been nothing of what Arin had imagined as a witch. She was young, from the looks of it, just beginning to bloom. She had not one ounce of evil or a sinister air about her. She had a light hearted aura radiating from her, with a taint of determination. 

    When Farin had given him the idea of taking her with them, he didn’t object. Dwarves were instinctively protective of the female gender, for there was so few of them among their race. For the short time both brothers had been in Elizabeth’s living space, the had realized that she was alone in the rather large house. No proper protection and she certainly didn’t give the look of a trained warrior. So taking her with was the only sensible thought Arin had thought of. Elus would want to meet her. And after they both met, he told himself that he would take her straight back home. But when he stepped over, back through the doorway, everything had gone a turn for the worse. She grew frantic in her struggles, but not against his grip. Something was causing her great pain, but neither brother found any physical wound. Both had deemed the reason to be magic. Elus, they thought, was her only hope. Arin just hoped they would make it in time, before he collapsed from lack of rest and before Elizabeth struggle’s with the mysterious magic took its toll.

A/N: EEYYYY How was it? Good? Bad? *Gasp* What is happening to Elizabeth? Oh, the drama!