Prologue – What's a Life between Friends?

It was already dark when she climbed into the room.

Kristin Hartley, ordinary girl next door. Or, actually, that is rather inaccurate. She lived in the light blue house two doors down, and was far from ordinary. But that aspect will be further discussed in more detail in later chapters.

I say 'climbed into the room' because she did precisely that. She had just entered her best friend's room via the second floor window. A skill she had acquired since the age of nine, when she and Jon had first got together at the back of the school bus and made the sacred pact of friendship during primary school.

Jon glanced up at her and grinned. He held a finger to his lips and crossed the room to close and lock the plain white door that led into his room. A norm during her visits.

"Hey, K," he greeted, smiling, and hugged her. "I'm glad you got my message."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, deah. Though I wish you'd turn eighteen already and share an apartment with me." Kristin disentangled herself from him and lay on his bed, bouncing a little.

Kristin and Jonathan were the typical teenage best friends. They understood each other, and complemented each other perfectly. Or almost perfectly. Most of their classmates held the opinion that they would start going out in a few years, but the fact that Jon was about as straight as a circle…complicated matters.

His voice brought her back to the present. "I finished another sketch." He lifted a sketchbook off his work desk and placed it in front of her, and proceeded to lie down next to her. "After reading the first book again." He flipped idly through the pages until he came to the latest drawing.

"Jon, it's beautiful…" she breathed. And indeed it was. The page was taken up with two Elves, twins, standing by a fountain, heads together, and obviously planning mischief. Without a doubt they were Elladan and Elrohir.

Her fingers skimmed across the drawing lightly, wishing – and not for the first time- that she could just step into Tolkein's creation (Middle-Earth) and see for herself the beauty of the Elves and the rest of the Free Peoples of the land. She wanted to walk in the forests, wander in the cities, bathe in the rivers, and breathe the air of Middle-Earth…although the battles were a little iffy.

Jon seemed to be thinking along the same lines. He sighed wistfully, and said, "I wish I could court one of them."

She grinned and smacked his head lightly. "Control yourself, O' Gay One."

He pouted, and was about to reply when they both jumped at the sound of the front door slam, followed by a shout of "BOY!"

Jon tensed visibly. "Hide," he whispered to her, and she immediately complied, running to the closet and closing it. She heard him unlocking his door and tentatively calling out, "Yes, Dad?"

"WHERE IS HE?"

From inside the stuffy closet, Kristin flinched. She sat down on the carpet, next to a stack of old comics coated in a layer of dust. Please, please don't sneeze…

"Where is who, Dad?" Jon was obviously trying his best to remain calm. Mr. Herrer was a heavy drinker, and took to trying to stomp out Jon's homosexuality, like it was some kind of disease. One that he diagnosed needed constant shouting to cure.

"THERE IS SOMEONE HERE, AND I'M GOING TO FIND OUT WHOM!" The bathroom door was wrenched open and the shower curtains pushed aside noisily. Jon's father gave a curse.

"There's no one here, Dad!" Jon was pleading, and Kristin could only hope that Mr. Herrer wouldn't think of looking in the closet.

"YOU STINKING LITTLE FAGGOT!" There was a sharp slap and a surprised cry. Kristin gasped, and her stomach clenched uncomfortably, although abuse was not uncommon, according to Jonathan.

Suddenly the closet door was thrown open with such force that one of the hinges burst out of its socket. Her hiding place was bathed in the orange glow from the light in Jon's room, and she found herself staring into the very angry eyes of one Evan Herrer, much like a deer caught in the headlights.

Uh-oh.

Strong, unyielding fingers grabbed hold of her shoulder and dragged her out. She was shoved to the rough green carpet brusquely.

"I TOLD YOU TO NEVER LET HER IN THE HOUSE, BOY! AND – what's this!?" His eyes had fallen on the open sketchbook, still on his son's bed. Jon's eyes widened, and he made a desperate grab for it, but his father was faster. Surprising, considering the amount of alcohol in his system.

Kristin closed her eyes. It was only a matter of time until Mr. Herrer found the nude pictures, one of the requirements of the art class Jon attended. He never saw Jon's talent, only freaky pictures that confirmed his son's unprincipled sexuality.

A ripping sound brought her crashing back to Earth. Jon was staring at his father in horror, mouth open unbecomingly, while he watched Mr. Herrer rip all his passion and hard work into shreds that floated slowly to the ground. He didn't bother protesting. One, it was already too late. Two, Mr. Herrer would never listen. Three, he just couldn't. His speech functions had deserted him.

Then, as suddenly as he had arrived, Mr. Herrer turned on his heel and left the room. They heard him thumping down the landing to his own room, then the slamming of a door.

"Kristin, leave, please." Jon helped her to her feet. There was a slight imprint of a hand on his right cheek, but he paid it no heed.

She stood, and rubbed her shoulder, glaring at him. "No. You will leave, with me. My parents will understand, we can get a lawyer – "

"I can't –"

"At least get a job and pay rent – I don't care, Jon! You have to come with me! Away from here."

Jon took a breath, ready to retort, but stopped. "You aren't going to let up, are you?" Her quiet but determined "No" was confirmation. "Fine. I'll go."

He cast one last longing look at the shredded paper on the ground, remnants of his hard effort, then grabbed his schoolbag and started stuffing clothes and various memorabilia inside.

"You go first," Kristin said when they were at the window. "You've had less practice."

Jon tossed his bag onto the ground outside, and had just swung his leg over the edge of the window when the door banged open for the second time that night. Mr. Herrer looked livid. And he had a gun.

"JON, GO!" she screamed pushing him. The first shot went right past her ear, singeing it, and into Jon's arm, and he cried out in pain. Some blood spattered onto her face, but she was past caring. A few more inches to the right…thank the gods for alcohol and its effects on accuracy.

She decided it was suicide to stay in there with a homicidal maniac carrying a big gun, and took a leap of faith. Quite literally.

Time slowed down, and Jon's shout of panic processed slowly through her brain. The plain garden Jon's window overlooked was getting awfully close. She wanted her eyes to close but they stubbornly stayed open.

There was an audible crack, and then…

Darkness.

OoOoOoOoOo

Well. That's that. It doesn't sound like it has much to do with Middle-Earth, but we'll get there. Review sweets!

Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings.

This chapter was finished on: 16 July 2006, 5.12 p.m.