Hello everyone! I have been playing around with this idea for some time. Nervous about trying my hand at this fic. Hopefully it will not be terrible or boring. The story was spawned from a strange idea and decided to write it. It branches off the typical idea of girl falls into middle earth, but not necessarily entirely. This story will speak for itself as you read more of it. This will be an AU/Canon. Crosses between different ideas to make one ULTIMATE story! No, not really... I'm simply having fun. Maybe you'll grow to like it? Maybe.

So don't run away just yet...

And I apologize for any typos

I've noticed very few fic are similar to this idea, so hopefully it'll appear different. It will have some romance of different character; possibly romance with my characters, be warned but no slash or graphic sex scenes. I am rating this T, for precaution. The timeline will bounce but don't worry, I'll give you a warning. Please forgive me if the dates are sightly off. Its been a long time since I've read the books. If you see a mistake, please tell me and I will fix it. I do hope to hear from you and know you thoughts on this story. ;)

Sorry if my elvish is wrong, unfortunately I did not major in LOTR Language during college.

For all the Purist: this is an AU. WARNING: AU!

Declaim! I am not making money! Or claiming all the ideas are mine, this is a fanfic and not a professional publishing for future $$$.

Without further delay, please sit back and enjoy this story and I will answer any questions from your comments.

Full Summary: The death of her father led Scarlett Thatcher and her childhood friend Cheyenne, two young women of Montana, on a strange journey to find a man named Thomas Dougherty. Who disappeared two decades ago and left behind clues to the ancient world of Middle earth.

The Traveller

Who is Thomas Dougherty

Scarlett Thatcher lazily rested on her stomach upon the moist dirt, circling her finger around a dandelion's head whilst her horse Trigger grazed nearby. On top of a hill, miles from her family's ranch in Montana, Scarlett took her horse to escape the deadly crutches of her mid-term paper; due after her spring break. Majoring in archeology and anthropology was a risky path which she was confident to take along learning linguistic to translate ancient languages. The sun was high above her and radiated warmth down on her fair skin. Long and untamed dark locks with tints of red sprawled across her back whilst the collar of her white button up blouse itched her chin. The young twenty year old hummed a familiar lullaby while, securely protected by trees and wildlife. Scarlet glanced up at her horse who kept his butt to her.

"Aren't they just pretty, boy?" Scarlett inquired dreamily as Trigger nickered, swished his tail and completely ignored her.

"Well, I know you probably think they taste good rather than look good." Scarlett answered herself, chuckled when realized she was talking to herself. Not having the heart to pull out the dandelion to where as accessory, Scarlett rolled into her back before she stood up and dust off the dirt from her denim pants. Her hair fell on her chest, reached her naval with natural waves. Gingerly she approached Trigger and avoided stepping on the wildflowers. She patted his neck. "Don't worry, I won't hold it against you."

Trigger nickered loudly into her sensitive ear which she cringed and immediately covered it. Her fingers delicately covered the tip of her ear from her horse who rubbed his head against her. She smiled until suddenly in the distance she heard her name being echoed across the lands. It was faint but enough to capture her attention. Cautiously she approached the edge and gazed down far below near the slopes where she noticed Buck, her father's ranch caretaker, road wildly on Apollo. He waved his hand frantically over his head to signal her. Frowned to the sight, Scarlett felt a twinge of fright. Fright that something terrible had happened. Swiftly she jogged to Trigger and mounted him effortlessly. Breathlessly she uttered, "Alright boy, there's trouble. We need to make tracks."

Gently she tapped her heel into his side and he responded with an eager nicker. Trigger cantered away from their favorite spot and followed the trail down the small hill. They met at the slopes, their horses panted heavily.

"What's the matter, Buck?" Scarlett inquired as she stared into the old man's blue eyes that were shadowed by his cowboy hat.

"It's your father." He uttered in his thick southern accent that suddenly went solemn. That alone had her worried; Buck was never an emotional man. "There's been an accident, girl."

In that moment, her heart sunk until her legs went weak. Even without knowing the truth, she knew in her heart that it was bad. Thankfully, she sat on Trigger otherwise she would have collapsed. After the shock wore off, Scarlett glanced over the terrain toward the direction of the ranch where she felt her father fading. Without further delay, she roughly urged Trigger to make haste. "Wait, girl!" Buck called out but she did not give him the time. Trigger galloped wildly back to the ranch, his mane brushed against her cheek.

"Hurry, boy!" She urged against the wind.

As they neared, Triggered jumped over the white fence, a short cut to the Victorian styled house at the end of the horseshoe dirt road. Dashed out from the door was Ted, the middle-aged rancher who lived next to them. He hurried down from the porch to steady Trigger as Scarlett leaped off. When she sprinted to the porch, Ted swiftly grabbed her arm and Scarlett snapped to him surprised, "Scarlett… prepare yourself."

The warning struck her heart when he released her. That was when Buck arrived on a very tired horse. "Scarlett!"

She ignored him and rushed through the doors and into the living room where there were some of her father's workers. All faithful people who worked on the ranch for many years and loved them like family. Rosa, her middle-aged maid rose from the couch, teary eyed, "Oh Scarlett."

Scarlett ignored their sentiment and sprinted up the stairs to the second level. Her Aunt Helen and Uncle John stood in the doorway of her father's master bedroom. They had their arms around each other, whilst Aunt Helen, her father's sister, cried onto Uncle John's shoulder. Uncle John gently moved his distraught wife out of the way to allow Scarlett through. Scarlett rushed in and came to an abrupt stop to the sight before her with her hair fly forward. Her heart felt like it was ripped from her and immediately grew pale. On the bed, there was her father Roy, covered in his own blood. Cuts and an open wound on stomach discharged fresh blood from his weakened and older body. Perspiration on his brow, eyes close tight and labored breaths thrust through his cracked parted lips. Next to him was Lily, Ted's wife and a retire nurse, who attempted to care for him. She looked over at Scarlett, surprised to find her there.

"Scarlett!" She hesitated. "This is not a place to be." She whispered maternally, in hoped to shield the young girl from this tragedy.

"Scarlett?" The voice came from Roy's bloodied mouth as he snapped open his eyes. It was raspy as he choked on his own blood. His eyes sought out hers. Scarlett came to the side of the bed, frightened and he reached out a shaky hand. "My dear… girl."

"Dad..." Scarlett snatched his hand: filled with disbelief and swiftly sat on the edge of the bed, not caring if his blood touched her. Her eyes scanned over him as he tried to speak. Hysterically, she snapped at Lily. "What happened? Where is the ambulance? The paramedics… doctors? Anyone? Where are they?!"

Lily's lips trembled as her face flushed with sorrow, "There was an accident with the bull. Your father tried to… to.."

Scarlett swallowed hard as she tried to suppress her tears and attempted to be strong for her father's sake. It was no secret that her father did rodeo for additional money. The wound on his abdomen suggested that he was impaled by the bull's horn during his training. At this point, his organs were punctured and he was suffering from internal bleeding. At his age, death would swift for he neared six-five and endured a history of health problems. They lived too far away for the ambulance to reach them. By the time they did, her father would be….

No, angrily Scarlett shook her head of that thought, and turned to her uncle "Why haven't you taken him to town?" She shouted, her voice slowly rising with fear as she fought back the overwhelming emotions.

"He is bleeding too much..." Lily answered, tears rolled down freely. "Your uncle and Ted barely got him here."

Scarlett pursed her lip, hated that answer. She shook her head and swiftly stood. "No, there's still time." She spoke heavily, frantically urged the others to react. "Help me take him to the hospital." She turned and about to hoist her father over her shoulder when her Uncle John left his wife and swiftly snatched her into his arms, prevented her from any rash actions. "No, please… there's still time… There's time!"

She shouted loudly and fought against her uncle's tight arms. Her uncle had to use all his strength to restrain his niece for she was oddly strong. She kicked, hit, and tired everything to be released until she got weary and sobbed into her uncle's shoulder. Abruptly felt weak, and want nothing more to fade in this moment. Uncle John spoke against her ear, "There is no more time. You need to face the truth."

The brutal truth poured onto her and forced her to trembled when she heard her father call her name. Scarlett pulled away from her uncle and sat next to him again. As she tried to straighten, Scarlett wiped away the tears and attempted to be strong for her father's sake. "Dad…"

"My girl… I love you." He choked, and Scarlett repressed a sob. It was a rare sentiment to confess his love for his only daughter. His breath became raspy as he struggled to breathe. The end neared, much to his fears. Roy faced his daughter again determined to say what's needed to be said, "I… I never told you this… I am proud of you. I'll tell your mother how much you've grown… and….and…"

Roy struggled as Scarlett's vision began abruptly blurred and her tears escaped from the corner of her eyes. Widen eyed, Roy stared as his daughter, fought for his last breath and his tight hold on her hand slowly weakened. Scarlett shook her head, her heart constricted, "No… Don't go! Please."

"...Thomas...Dougherty..."

Roy struggled until his eyes went blank and darkened. Scarlett gasped, and fell in to shock. Every muscle in her body froze until slowly started to shake uncontrollably followed by a heart-wretched sob. Uncle John pulled her yet again to a tight embrace and listened silently to her cries. Her sensitive ears blocked out the wails of sorrows from the others and before long it was silent. Time stilled.

Disbelief. Denial... they were her closest friends until Scarlett slowly pulled away and turned toward his father as Lily shakily covered his blooded body with a sheet. Aunt Helen came around and placed a comforting hand on Lily's shoulder. The truth was before her: Her father was dead. Now she stood in the world as a orphan, alone with her own twisted thoughts and with the burdens her father left behind.

Scarlett recovered herself and inquired in a low voice, that was weak. "Who is Thomas Dougherty?"

Her Uncle grew grim, unable to look at her and cleared his throat. Scarlet frowned and look to the others who refused to make eye contact and act as if she haven't spoken. The raw emotion crawled at her, slowly boiling over anger of the loss and fueled by the hurt. "Who is he?!"

Her voice shrilled through the room, escalated by her dry throat until they cringed. "Scarlet?" Ted's gentle voice came from the threshold, in no better condition then her family. Wearily, she looked to him as he kept a steady eye, "Its been a hard day for all of us..."

Scarlet swallowed, swiftly ashamed of her outburst to the people who loved her dearly. For the respect she had for Ted, she nodded obediently and allowed the topic to drop. Scarlett return to the comforting arms of her uncle as she waited in vain for the ambulance to arrive.

A blink of an eye… that was all it took to turn her life upside down.

Day by day: time moved with no rhythm until nearly five days past. Scarlett spent most of them in the trees near her home, to find comfort in the nature. As a child, she believed she could speak to trees and feel their emotions. Its been many years since then, and life at school along with friends and jobs simply pulled her away. Now she was welcomed with disquiet. The workers continued their everyday duties of caring for the ranch and avoided her on the Thomas Dougherty topic. Rosa often offered her food to help with the passing of her father with sweet verses in Spanish but none prevailed. It grew darker for her. The ranch had lost it's light. Within time, their family's funds would run out. Scarlett attempted to fulfill her father's shoes but it grew harder by the day. Ever since her father's death, inconsiderate real estate agents would try to buy her ranch for rich clients who heard the bad news and twisted it into a greedy opportunity. Roy had connections from town and which, his hundred acres of good land seemed inviting to most. However as always, Buck came with his gun chased them off the property, with sounds of gunfire blistering in the air. Warned those miserable fools to never return. The days grew thin and everything happened continuously. Her aunt asked how she handled things, her uncle gave her words of encouragement, Buck chased off the real estate agents , Rosa cooked a feast for twenty, Ted and Lily call her from the house line. It became a blur.

Scarlett often replayed the events in her head and tortured herself with the idea of what if. What if she wasn't at her secret spot. What if she was working on her mid-term paper, only then she could had more time. Time to save her father, time to drive madly into town. The ambulance arrived only after forty-five minutes after her father's death, accompanied with a helicopter. Things could have been different.

Scarlett sighed deeply as she stared at the bills that were scattered across her kitchen table. The weather channel was on low tune, displayed the weather for the evening. She glanced up curiously at the small television that sat on her kitchen counter. The weatherman pointed out the weather changes in his profession tone, "As you see here, there are strong winds coming from Canada and will enter Montana by the evening. There is a fifty percent chance for a storm…"

Scarlett moaned in irritation as she turned off the television with the remote control. She reviewed the funding and learned they were running severely short. Perhaps another three months or so, before things go under. Her father left many bills and small funds in the saving account. Scarlett knew her father struggled and things were slipping, but never knew how fast. Roy was a quiet man, even became distant after her mother passed away eight years ago. Running a ranch was a risky business unless there was abundant of money in the bank account. Roy worked as a breeder and rode horses for shows. It had been awhile since their last big break. It was no secret that Roy simply lost the desire after his wife died and slowly allowed the ranch to waste away. With that played against her, Scarlett dropped out of the semester and was unsure of returning.

The ranch was good land, and for a moment, Scarlett considered the real estate agent's offer. However the others: Rosa, Buck, Lily and Ted, and her family lived on the property. Her family's small cottage was not far off whilst Lily and Ted owned another home on the ranch near the back where the cows roamed. Buck and Rosa lived in her house, on the first floor. They would be evicted and forced to move.

"Great." She hissed to herself and leaned back into the chair as her shoulders drooped. What to do?

"Knock, knock." Scarlett heard from the screen door before it opened. Instantly she recognized that voice and she swiftly left the kitchen to head toward the living room. Out from the dry sun came Cheyenne, her childhood friend. Dressed in her denim shorts, tight white tank top and brown boots. The curvaceous twenty two year old was an all-star overachiever during their studies in college with the smile to melt men's hearts. Cheyenne pulled up her sunglass to set upon her short curled blond hair. Green eyes gazed at Scarlett with sympathy. "Hello honey. I came as soon as I heard. Why did you not call me?"

Scarlett hesitated while attempting to bury her feelings that filled her heart with sorrow. "I'm sorry, much was happening."

She sniffed, almost hesitant to approach her long time friend but Cheyenne wouldn't have that. Cheyenne instantly embraced her in a tight hug and swayed her like a child. "Its alright to cry."

"Thanks for coming." Scarlett whispered into Cheyenne's ear as she returned the tight embrace and tucked her face into the crock of her friend's neck.

Cheyenne pulled away, smiled softly as she pulled a tissue out her never-ending supply from her Gucci purse. Like a mother would, Cheyenne wiped away her tears and curled up the tissue and hid it in her pocket, "That's what's friends are for. Come and talk to me."

Cheyenne pulled Scarlett by the hand toward the multi-pattern couch where she flopped eagerly onto the cushion. All the thoughts about the ranch's troubles slowly eased from her mind. Like always, Cheyenne made things better just by her presence. A perfect one-woman army with beauty and intelligence packed into a small fragile body. Scarlett sighed and ruffed her wild dark hair before she leaned onto Cheyenne's shoulder for comfort.

Cheyenne racked her fingers through her hair, gently tucking on the end and massaging Scarlett's scalp. "Everything will be alright. " She began in a confident tone that gave Scarlett much strength. "If anyone can get through this, its you. Why don't you spend some time at my place?""

Scarlett pulled away, sniffed away her tears and sighed heavy. Her shoulder drooped before she stood up and placed her hands into her pockets. When she faced Cheyenne, She murmured wearily, "There are preparations to be made."

"Isn't your uncle taking care of that?" Cheyenne filled in Scarlett's excuse, with a gentle but unreasonable voice. As she cocked eyebrow, Cheyenne pressed, "I don't believe your Uncle will be vexed if you spent a day or two with me. My mother is away on business and we'll have the house to ourselves, like old times."

Scarlett cracked a smile to the idea of spending time with her friend. With life in the way, Scarlett hardly spent time with Cheyenne except when they shared classes together. While Scarlett studied Archeology, Cheyenne majored in history in hopes to be a historian. Ever since they were children, learning about history was their favorite pastime and it intrigued them that the most of early history was a blur. It was as if a chunk of history was ripped from the timeline and the earliest known history was the beginning of the fifth age. Scarlett sunk back into the couch, "I have things to figure out."

"What things?" Cheyenne pried as she crossed her leg over the other and tilted her head to the side.

"You know: bills, going through my father's things. I have yet to adventure to the attic. Father didn't like me in there. Who knows what I'll find up there." Scarlett shrugged as she spoke softly.

Cheyenne nodded her head in comprehension as she remembered Roy's problem with the attic. It was closed off, locked and was allowed to decay with age, webs and dust. From what she remembered, it was filled with Roy's wife belongings. Packed away into boxes, preserved and hidden from sight. Cheyenne finally sighed as her curiosity got the best of her, and stood up. "Well, lets go and venture up there."

"What?" Scarlett asked incredulous.

"Come on." Cheyenne waved, ignored her question as she approached the split staircase. Her heels clanked on the wood as she made her way up third floors with Scarlett on her tail. "I want to see what's up there."

Scarlett sighed deeply, did not have the heart to argue. Murmured nonchalantly, "Fine."

When they approached the door at the top of the third floor, Scarlett fiddled with her father's keys. Dozen of keys clanked and compressed on a small ring. Scarlett found the old bronze key and unlocked the door. She had to push the door with his shoulder to force it to open. The door whined in protest as the light from the hall illuminated into the ominous attic. Scarlett suppressed the need to cough from the closed air. Barely five feet into the attic, boxes, old paintings and nick knacks filled every corner until there was hardly any room to maneuver.

"Wow." Cheyenne utter amazed at the clutter. It was worse than she remembered. Her eyes took in the heavily piled of dust on the floors and boxes. She cleared her throat and said plainly, "You got your work cut out for you. Look at these mountain of boxes."

"You don't say." Scarlett murmured incredulous, almost frustrated to the thought of more work. She was more than happy that she dropped the semester. If the ranch was indeed failing then all this must be dealt with now. "I never know how much my father kept. This is going to take lifetime!"

"Hey, if you want?" Cheyenne turned to Scarlett, gently pushed her idea. "Stay with me for the night and take a break from this. And tomorrow, I will help you with this. I promise. Come on, what do you say?"

"This is take a long time." Scarlett said defiantly, warning her friend of what she'll get herself into.

"Thats fine. My paper is finished and I free for the week. I will be here for you."

Scarlett sighed, and mustered a shy smile "Ok."

Later that night, Cheyenne and Scarlett walked out of the house with a small bag of Scarlett belongings. After notifying her family's going away for the weekend, the sky grew darker and the sun slowly descended over the mountains. With her hands in her pockets, Scarlett stared up at the sky, defiantly and unafraid of the thunder. Cheyenne wrapped her free arm over Scarlett's shoulder as they walked down the porch steps and spoke about the future.

"I was thinking about selling the ranch." Scarlett uttered softly once they were sure the other workers weren't in ear shot.

Cheyenne stopped in her tracks and turned to Scarlett, appalled by the very thought. Defeat was not the answer. "Scarlett!" She shouted in surprise, her tone rang loudly in Scarlett's ear and Scarlett hushed her. Cheyenne whispered harshly. "No, that's your father's ranch!"

"I know." Scarlett uttered in defeat, felt guilty to the thought and tucked her hands into her pocket. Down-casted her eyes, bit her lip and traced the dirt with her tip of her foot. It even hurt her to even admit that bitter truth. Scarlett looked up at Cheyenne and continued forlornly, "But I have no idea what to do with the ranch. I am not a businesswoman or a rancher. I ride horses, that's pretty much it. It was suppose to go to my cousin but…"

"He died, too." Cheyenne answered for her sadly before she inhaled a deep breath of air.

"Yeah… I don't know. I feel like I need to leave." Scarlett shrugged her shoulders before they drooped and looked around her father's land, "I love it here but my father left too much bills and 'unfinished business' behind. Gosh, I never knew. He was always so quiet after mom died."

"I am sorry hun." Cheyenne whispered despondently, and reached Scarlett again to wrap a protective arm around her shoulder.

Scarlett sighed deeply before she looked up at the sky again, frowned by the very sight. The clouds darkened dangerously with internal lightening and whats worse…. The clouds began to rotate. Never before had she seen such display in the skies in Montana. Fear struck her as she said warningly, "We should probably leave. Those clouds don't look right."

Cheyenne pulled away from Scarlett and placed her hand on her hip with a mocking expression on her face. "What?" She asked surprise; an impish smile grew on her lips, "Seriously? Since when was the Ferocious Scarlett terrified of little thunder?"

"Since I developed instincts." Scarlett said without humor in her voice, but very serious.

"Ha, ha. Very funny. I have instincts too, silly girl." Cheyenne mocked, waved her hand nonchalantly. Before they continued down the horse shoe road to Cheyenne's car, she glanced down at the dandelions sprawled near the house. "These are so beautiful."

When she bent down to pull one out, Scarlett frantically yelled. "No, don't pull them out! Flowers have feelings you know!"

Cheyenne cocked an eyebrow, shifted onto one leg and crossed her arms cockily. A suppressed chuckled past her lips as she rolled her eyes, "Feelings? Really, Scarlett? Aren't you past your childhood concerns for plants?"

"No." Scarlett scoffed, surprised by that question. "They do have feelings."

"Ok." Cheyenne held up her hands in surrender to her friend's emotional outburst, tried not to laugh at her plant-happy personality. Things have not changed since they were wearing diapers together. Even after they went to high school and then to college, Scarlett remained the same soft-hearted tree hugging girl. Cheyenne lips curved into a smile to that thought. "Whatever you say."

They walked to Cheyenne's expensive white BMW parked on the end of horseshoe dirt road. The wind thrust harder, below Scarlett's dark locks to her face. Instantly she crawled into the passenger seat with the wind whistling in her ear, freezing her fair cheeks. The women took cover in the car, prepared to leave the ranch toward the thirty minute ride to Cheyenne mother's house. Even though Cheyenne had a dorm, she often went home. Money was never much of a concern for her. Cheyenne wasn't shy to turn at high speed on the dirt road, casting dust to the wind and then racing down the dirt road with 90's music in the background.

Scarlett leaned into the leather chair, stared outside as nature past her and watched the sky darkened across the horizon. Tried to forget these terrible days and ignore what's to come. She brought up her hand to her ear, softly trailing up to the tip and played with her disfigured earlobe. Faintly wondering why her family avoided the topic of Thomas Dougherty.

Thirty minutes past in a blur when they rounded a corner to what Scarlett would call the 'fancy' area. Up the long driveway, they parked in front of a large house that Cheyenne's mother got from her divorce. White panels, and a stone entrance welcomed high curved windows. The lawn expanded with lush green and an organized garden. Scarlett and Cheyenne left the car out in the driveway and approached the front double doors. Cheyenne fiddled with her keys before they entered and Scarlett was invaded by the familiar smell of lavender.

The house was spotless, perfectly organized and the muted colors matched thoroughly through the house. At the entrance, a curved staircase led to the second level, lined with marble flooring. The first floor was wide and opened, very modern. The living room was equipped with a tall and wide fireplace, along with tall windows to display a view of the backyard and the pool.

"Home sweet home. Hey are you hungry?" Cheyenne asked nonchalantly, left her purse on the entry table and walked straight to the kitchen on the left side.

Scarlett sighed and left her backpack on the table and followed the sounds of her friend's heels on the marble. Into the modern kitchen, the counters expanded into a large L shape with an expensive fridge and double stove. In the corner, a grand dinner table was left in the dim room. A key pad to control lights and other electronics was mantled on the wall near the fridge.

Cheyenne reached into the freezer, having to leaned onto her toes to pull out two cartons of ice cream. "Ah, here. Want some rocky road ice cream or cookies and cream?"

Scarlett smiled to her favorite dessert. Cheyenne always kept a carton of rocky road in her fridge. When Scarlett grabbed two spoons, they swiftly escaped to Cheyenne's room on the second floor. Down a long hall of guest rooms and another large living room, came into view Cheyenne's door. Her room was twice Scarlett's kitchen, filled with dark furniture and a wide flat screen on the wall. Shelves of books and small statuette from Italy laden across the far wall, outlined with tall windows.

Scarlett sat on Cheyenne's queen bed that was covered by a light blue comforter. They ignored the wind howling whilst Cheyenne flipped through tv stations, "no... no... oh! Friends."

Scarlett chuckled, sucking the remaining of the ice cream from her spoon. As hard it was, Scarlett tried to forget the recent events, she prevented her mind to wonder back to her father or the ranch. All she wanted for the moment was peace, just for a little while. Upon her stomach and eating ice cream, Scarlett glanced up at Cheyenne who removed her boots and sat on the edge of the bed with her feet swinging from the ledge and completely engrossed to the show. Despite this break from reality, Scarlett couldn't resist the nagging question.

"You know," Scarlett began, swiftly licking the last bit of chocolate from her spoon and glanced up, "My family... they been acting strange."

"What do you mean? Is it because of your father?" Cheyenne tilted her head, encouraging Scarlett to continue and scooped more ice cream before she muted the flat screen.

Scarlett pulled out the spoon from her mouth, quickly swallowing before she sighed. For a moment, she was hesitate and find the whole situation ridiculous. None of the less, it bugged her to no end. "Yes. Before my dad died, he... murmured the name Thomas Dougherty."

Cheyenne knitted her eyebrows together in confusion, and became serious after the name Thomas Dougherty. A name that barely was breathed during her own childhood and one that caused much hurt to her family. Slowly her hand began to shake, her heart skipped a beat and scarcely listening to Scarlett, "This wouldn't be such a great deal if they didn't avoid me which makes me more suspicious. My family completely ignores me. They won't tell me who he is. It was the last thing he said and no one will tell me why... Cheyenne?"

Scarlett stared at the wide-eyed Cheyenne who was lost in her own thoughts. A gentle shake jolted Cheyenne back to reality as she breathed sharply. When Cheyenne glanced down at Scarlett, she found a pair of concerned eyes that grew heavy with questions. Pursed her lips into a tight line, Cheyenne murmured softly, "Thomas Dougherty is my grandfather."

"Your grandfather?" Scarlett repeated, surprised but also delighted that she has a small piece to her mysterious puzzle. Swiftly she jumped up to a seated position, full alert and completely forgot the ice cream carton on the bed.

"On my mother side." Cheyenne explained in a soft and distant voice filled with confusion. "Wait, how does your father know him? He's been gone for almost twenty years?"

Scarlett frowned as her shoulder drooped. As she shrugged, Scarlett inquired with a disappointed voice, "Where is he?"

Cheyenne shrugged and answered with defeat, "No one knows. He just disappeared one day."

"Just disappeared?" Scarlett repeated, incredulity.

"Yeah, mom never spoke of him." Cheyenne looked down at her spoon that her fingers twisted and fiddled. "He's been in and out of her life, be gone for months, even years at a time. Grandma never married him. I was a baby when he disappeared. Come to thing of it, I never questioned why? Mom simply kept him quiet and I was never allowed to ask about him."

Scarlett frowned and questioned slowly, to make sure she understood correctly. "You weren't allowed?"

"No" Answered Cheyenne, shrugged. "Mom was angry at him for being gone most of her life and after grandma died, she kept only a few things of him in her room."

"Really?" Scarlett inquired with a devious smile.

The sad features that were on Scarlett's face melted into a mischievous expression, one that fueled Cheyenne's curiosity. It simply brought back memories of their curious deeds of breaking into the school's library to read old books. Cheyenne cocked an eyebrow, "Are you thinking what I am thinking?"

"Definitely." Scarlett nodded, her chest filled with excitement.

Cheyenne smiled, "Alright... but, remember..."

"Yes, I know," Scarlett answered nonchalant, rolled her eyes and waved her hand. "What happens here stays here."

"Ok, wait here."

When Cheyenne disappeared from the room, Scarlett shook her head. No matter how old they get, Cheyenne will always remember to never upset her mother. An ill-temper, OCD woman with hot Italian blood packed into an aggressive small woman. The look alone was enough to simply stop being mischievous during their high school days. Even Scarlett was afraid of her when thing got dicey but definitely the one she went to when children bullied her as a child because of her deformed ears. Annabella was never to be trifled, but she was a private woman, who said what's on her mind but kept bad blood quiet beneath the carpet. This innocent deed of investigating Cheyenne's grandfather would definitely earn them more than a frown from Annabella.

Scarlett sighed and glanced at Cheyenne's ice cream which only had a few scoops left. She bit her lip and mischievously stole a spoonful before Cheyenne returned. Out from the hall came Cheyenne with a heavy strange chest with iron handles. Frowned to the sight, Scarlett sat up and half expected a simple box rather than a chest. Cheyenne struggled with the weight, her arms trembled under the pressure before she dropped it onto the bed with relief. Cheyenne felt as if she completed a workout. With a tired sigh, she exclaimed. "This thing is heavy! No wonder why mom would never hide it in the basement."

"Wow, look at the design." Scarlett ignored Cheyenne as she examined the chest with great interest. "Its looks as though if would be from the eighteen hundreds and in good condition!"

"Yeah, mom said he was always bringing home stuff from like history." Cheyenne explained before unlocking it and slowly lifted the heavy lid to reveal dusty personal items. Strange gold and silver coins filled the bottom which explained the heaviness. Cheyenne dived in, gently pulled stuff out as she examined them curiously.

Scarlett took a silver coin and curiously twisted it in her hand. It was heavier than a cheap plastic toy and even resembled to old coins from ancient times but with a strange insignia. With her archeologist mind, she tried to match it to a particular time in history, but never before had she seen such an item. The insignia had no relations from the Roman Empire to current times. Strange marking, an odd language curved at the bottom of a tree insignia. Perhaps it was something for prehistoric times but crave men could not have not made this. It annoyed her that she had no answers.

Curiosity got the best of her, Scarlett got off the bed, and went to the laptop on Cheyenne's desk. She researched of coins and currencies whilst Cheyenne pulled out two silver daggers. They were beautiful designed with a slight curve, old but sharp. In awe, Cheyenne brushed her finger across the blade, "Wow... I never knew my grandfather was such... a history freak."

Scarlett mustered a smile but nothing made sense. There was nothing on the website of these coins. Why would her father uttered this man's name? A man who had been missing for two decades, and only left behind a name and a chest full of odd items. What was missing?

Cheyenne pulled out a torn journal with parchment paper covered by a leather exterior. In her hands, if felt old and as if it'll break apart. Gently she opened it to finds pages torn from the center and completely disorganized but each paper filled with summarized events. She pulled out one page, torn from the center and wrinkled. "My grandfather's hand writing..."

Scarlett turned from the computer desk and frowned at the journal, then glanced up at Cheyenne's amazed expression as her eyes teared up slightly. "What does it say?"

"umm...All the pages are hard to read and not in order." She mumbled, slightly annoyed to the unorganized pages. Her OCD side slowly came out and stressed her out. She dropped the journal onto the bed, slowly flipped through the pages with odd dates. Most had two dates: one from after 60's and the others from another age. With a hard sigh, Cheyenne gave up on attempting to clean up the mess and calmly grabbed a less abused paper. "Well, this one begins:..."

March 6, 1965

to

TA 101

There was much uncertainty. A strange pause in Middle Earth that had Lady Galadriel anxious, which only fueled Haldir's anxiety. The winds shifted ever so slight, almost enough for Haldir to miss if it weren't for Lady Galadriel's warning. A warning that something lingered in the outskirts of Lothlorien. Several days into the forest, Haldir's patrol stole silently into the woods. Deeper and deeper they went, almost neared to the northern border. Not a single twig snapped or crunch from the ground to alert their arrival. The sun was high and shined down through the gaps of the trees. Stealthy and vigilant, the patrol scouted the area for signs of strange activities.

Haldir suspected it could have been an orc pack, baring steel and poison arrows; considered the recent events of this new age. Sauron, the Dark Lord was destroyed during the Alliance between Men and Elves. However, not a single orc crossed these border. What could have had his lady so concerned of? The patrol sprawled out, readied their arrows for any inconveniences. Haldir concentration, listened intently, but… something was amiss, the very air changed and even forced a shiver. A rare feeling that Haldir was not accustom too. His hand twitched on the bow, his eyes carefully surveyed the area with caution. Anticipation gnarled at him, taunted him… Something moves.

He heard his Lady's voice in his head, warning him. No dirweg!

Instantly, he nocked his arrow, slowly moved forward to the strange sounds of snoring. Frowned, as the sound grew worse and louder, almost equivalent to a dying beast. In the corner of his eyes, his brothers followed from a distance, disturbed by the sounds. As he drew near to a bush, he gently pushed back the greenery and there on the moist ground was a mortal.

Not just any mortal, but a strange man dressed in odd clothing, sleeping on his side in a fetal position. He was young in his mortal years, Haldir estimated perhaps in his late twenties. The mortal wore a bright blue shirt, brighter than Haldir had ever seen and even the design was well-done. This man must be rich to afford such expensive material. His pants were loose around his legs, almost gave Haldir the impression that they would surely fall off. Not a sight he wanted to see. On his right hand, he wore a ring and a gold necklace strapped around his neck.

The patrol followed their Marchwarden to the disrupting sounds of snoring. Confused, Haldir replaced his bow into his quiver and warned. "Na manwa."

The patrol nocked their arrows, pointed at the strange man as Haldir came closer to the Mortal and roughly nudged the man's boot. The mortal moaned to the disruptrtion and turned to the other side. He yawned and mumbled incoherent words, "... Another... five minutes."

Haldir sent a confused glance to his brother, Rumil and swiftly lost his patiences. He nudged the mortal's boot, with more force to the point of literally striking him. The mortal yelped and shot up, his long hair in disarray and his green eyes widened. "Alright! I am up!"

The mortal cuddled his leg, comforting his foot with a moan before his face flushed with red from irritation. Sleepily his eyes drooped along with a yawn and long before he had a chance to shout at the rude awaking, there was an arrow at the tip of his nose. His weary eyes narrowed on the object, momentarily before his glanced across all the elves that had him surrounded like a beast. Realization came like a bucket of cold water as shifted away and yelped.

"Oh Wait!" His voice broke between a high pitch shrill and dry mouth. He shot up his hands in surrender, "Wait."

"Please don't shot." He shouted as he scooted back to be cornered by a large tree, his eyes frantically bounced between all the elves with fear and disbelief. One by one, his eyes searched all the fair men that looked too soft and creamy. Not enough facial hair to represent manhood. With arrows at his face, it would be best not to press his luck.

"You pass into the realm of the lady." Haldir said in the common tongue, his voice deepened and warned the mortal of his crimes. Slowly he approached, stared down the frightened human who frantically scanned them.

The mortal frowned, confused. "What lady?"

"Lady of the light." Haldir answered swiftly, his patient thinning by the second to this mortal's disrespect for the land and his lady.

"Oh, right." The mortal began slowly, pretended to understand before he cleared his throat and tried to play along. "Well would you please tell this Lady of the light, I am most apologetic for crossing into her…er realm."

"How did you come to these part, mortal?" Haldir ignored his false apologies, his voice stricken and forced the mortal to jump in surprise.

He wringled his nose to the name mortal but he was in no position to argue, "I… I was… I don't remember." He amended.

Haldir's eyes narrowed dangerously to this game that this mortal played. If he refused to corporate, then he'll consider him a threat to Lothlorien. He took a step closer, forced a chill down the mortal's spine as the mortal swallowed hard and was terrified to look directly at Haldir. Carefully, Haldir inquired in a haunting tone, "Do you believe lying would spare you?"

The mortal swallowed yet again, and tried to respond with a even voice, "Well, its no lie…"

"How did you come to this land?" Haldir interrupted and repeated for the last time, never broke eye contact and his voice deepened. The elves around him pulled back their arrows further, indicating their ready to shoot.

"By accident." The mortal finally broke, Hadlir watched as he slowly drooped his shoulders in defeat. It did not go unnoticed when the mortal removed the ring from his finger and hid it in his closed hand. Haldir leaned away from him, eyes carefully watched him when suddenly, the mortal got distracted by the arrows and inquired nonchalantly, "Those arrows are well done. Did you buy them on consignment store?"

Haldir cocked an eyebrow, loosing his patience and the Mortal continued, "And not to mention the armor."

Tog i firion… Galadriel whisped in Haldir's mind. Haldir sighed irritation.

While the mortal mumbled on about their arrows, Haldir pinched the bridge of his nose, gained curious eyes from his patrol. All awhile the mortal talked nonsense and instantly, Haldir inquired sharply. "What is your name Mortal?"

In a instantly, all the chatter ceased and the mortal's green eyes widened before he answered, "Thomas... Thomas Dougherty."

"Move." Hardir commanded, gestured his head to the side.

"Move? Where are we going." Thomas inquired when all the arrows fell from his face. He freely glanced around before he rose from the ground and dusted off his clothes.

"She is waiting." He ignored him and began to make haste back to Lothlorien.

'She? The lady of the light?" Thomas asked after him, slowly picked up pace when the other elves gestured to follow. To not aggravate the moody blond, Thomas swiftly followed more like jogged to keep up while murmured to himself, "What time did I get myself into...?"

To be continued...

That was rather a long chapter. I hoped it kept you intrigued until the next one comes out. There was a healthy does of suspense and mystery. Let me know what you think. Was it interesting? Boring? Hopefully different? Please let me know, until next time!

Elvish

No dirweg! - Beware

Na manwa - Be prepared

Tog i firion - Bring the mortal man