Summary: Achilles regards his honor as sacred, but he is not the first to do so. Sequel to "Weakness" and "Strength." Features the same major Greek and Elven characters, plus two new faces. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Sorry, I still don't own them, and I still am not making any money off of them. But that's okay – I love them to death anyway.
Author's Note: Well, here it is: the start of the sequel to "Weakness" that I've been wanting to write ever since I finished it on Christmas Day, 2007. Yes, "Strength" still happened, and it's still very important, serving as a sort of bridge between the two longer fics. But this is the sequel I've really been wanting to do all along. The same extended Author's Note at the beginning of "Weakness" also applies here, providing the details for this obscure crossover reality I've constructed. Please reference that if you're new to these fics, or feel free to PM me with any other questions. An additional note, however, is that I've determined that the time setting for this series is about 1600 Second Age, by Middle Earth's calendar. So wish me luck, as I still have a ton of stuff to work out here, and I do hope you enjoy it!
Prologue
"Their eyes beheld first of all things the stars of heaven. Therefore they have ever loved the starlight."
~ J.R.R. Tolkien, "The Silmarillion"
Waves. Waves. More waves. A whisper of breeze. The faint cry of a gull overhead. How long since he had heard them? How long since he had "heard" anything at all?
He felt cold and wet, and the damp sand was coarse like burlap beneath him. The same breath of air he had heard earlier felt cool in its caress against his cheek. How long since he had "felt" at all?
He was exhausted – too exhausted to move – yet his left hand grasped reflexively at the sand, as though groping for something it had just lost and fully expected to find again. Why did it burn him so?
With a groan, he raised his coppery head from the sand, instinctively turning back over his shoulder to gaze westward. There lay the Sea, stretching endlessly, and the blaze-orange sun sinking down beneath the far horizon. Silver eyes glistened with unshed tears. How long – dear Valar, how long! – since he had "seen"?
The last thing he remembered – if it could even be called that – was the sudden and strange sensation of spinning. Then of falling. He did not know if either phenomena had been "real," per say, but they were certainly more "real" than anything else he had known in Eru only knew how long.
Then the water had hit him, and he'd known beyond any doubt that this was indeed "real" in every sense. Bitter salt water had poured into his lungs as he'd gasped at the new reality, and limbs long forgotten were suddenly called upon once again to save his life. They had done their part, guided along by ancient memories of rhythmic waves and lyrical voices; but in the end, he had been stranded here on the sand like a beached whale.
Still dazed, he continued to cough and sputter as he absently pushed the sea-soaked locks of dark hair away from his pale face. Only then did he notice that his right hand clenched a sword – his own sword – in an iron grip of death, and it was only with great effort that he pried his fingers free from the hilt.
The water-logged figure rolled over onto his back, and for a time he could only stare in awe at a beloved sight almost forgotten; but the elation he felt now was no less than when he had first beheld these precious things, so very, very long ago.
Stars.
Author's End Note: Okay, I know it's a tiny start, but Chapter 1 is finished and coming soon. Promise. See you there!