History Revolvo Ipsum

Plato knew it, Nostradamus knew it, so I guess you know what they say, 'History Revolvo Ipsum'; History repeats itself. And in Sauron's case, history is indeed repeating itself.

Chapter 1: The Kidnapping of Emily Elias

May 18th, 1967

It was the Sunday before semester began after spring break, and many kids were spending it with their friends in vain attempts at forgetting what the morning would bring, or else convincing themselves that the headache wouldn't be terribly unbearable in the morning.

As for the cloaked figure weaving in and out of the shadows and through the dark alleyways of upstate New York streets, the urgency was quite in league with the same magnitude as the freedom seeking teenagers she had happened to pass once or twice on her journey to that godforsaken diner.

The cloaked figure rounded the corner, almost stepping on a drunken man passed out on the floor in the process. Giving an annoyed hiss, the figure hiked up its cloak and ran across the dingy street through the gathering rain only stopping once she had gotten to that 'waste of space' of a diner as the kids would say these days. She glanced up at the neon letters that were supposed to spell out 'Elle's Diner' except the two l's in Elle had busted out and there was no r in Diner.

In truth the diner made rats looks clean and made her skin crawl, but the cloaked figure heaved a sigh; this was where she was to meet him, so be it. She stood before the diner's entrance, willing Eru to not allow her the misfortune of picking up a virus in the blasted hovel. Even new advances in medicine probably couldn't save her life for whatever she could contract in that place.

Her chest rose and fell three times before she raised a gloved hand and pushed open the creaky wooden door, keeping her head low and her cloak high; the musty smell of the diner invading her unwilling nostrils.

Sitting down in one of the worn booths, she looked around the diner, only to see that it was completely empty save for another drunk bastard muttering to himself in one of the booths behind her, and a man slumped over his table in an obvious drunken stupor in the booth in front of her. Had there been any waitress, she did not know, but if there was, she wasn't there now and that suited the cloaked figure perfectly. It would save the human the chance at getting her head verbally 'bitten off' another slang piece she thanked that ages youth for.

Whoever owned the diner was either in a back room, or long gone, and the figure repressed a smile; she didn't blame him in the least. The owner could come and go without worrying about looters. Because really, who in their right mind came to steal from this diner? The cash register probably had cobwebs in it, and the only people willing to come in here were the drunk, the idiotic, or the mentally impaired.

Unless of course, you were the man coming through the doorway right at this moment, the bell above the door giving a shrill ding as he stepped over the threshold, shaking the rain out of his sodden hair throwing glances about obviously looking for someone.

The cloaked figure watched as his gaze slid over the tow drunks before it stopped on her, a moment of pure silence issued in which he watched her with something akin to reluctance. Oh, she was sure enough he liked her as a person, it was just whenever they saw each other she had horrible news. Understandable as it was, people were weary when they got a call from her. Something she swore was a curse bestowed upon her.

The man was dressed in neutral colours, his face posed with anxiety, a slight dusting of stubble upon his face, his hair falling to his shoulders in dishevelled yet beautiful locks. She noted that his eyes, though still young and mesmerising, held the depth of struggle throughout ages.

At last he spotted the cloaked figure sitting at one o the booth twirling a finger around the rim of a steaming hot cup of what he assumed to be coffee that he was sure hadn't been there yet ten seconds before. He made his way over to her, his stance defensive, his steps hesitant; stopping before her and sliding into the other side of the booth. He looked at her closely, tilting his head slightly as he watched her.

"It is you?" He asked, his voice bare apart from a small hint of distrust.

"If you're asking if it is I, the oracle of Gispelio, daughter of high kings and queens, then yes I am- opposed to being a nazgul in disguise or one of Sauron's disillusioned followers." She replied, a smirk in her voice, though her face was in shadow, and no features visible even to his quick eyes.

The man shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking around nervously.

"Have no fear son of Gilraen; no one is here who opposes us." She said simply, not even glancing up to note the drunken men in front and behind her. The man nodded almost unknowingly to himself, and waited, wondering if he should ask or if she would talk first. She was still trailing the small white coffee cup's rim with a delicately gloved finger, and it was some minutes before she spoke aga8in.

"You're late." She said at last, a smile in her voice. "Three years late to be precise." The man before her visibly blanched. By Eru that was the date he was told, how could he have been late? Before he could say as much, she cut him off smoothly. "I jest, I jest, dear sir." She said, a small chuckle following her words.

"Right, yes well…Yes…" He said softly. These meetings weren't easy for him, every time she brought bad news, and the inevitability meaning was that Sauron had found a way back- that he had found a loophole through the fabrics of time. And in this case, it seemed to be no different. It was only a matter of time, where and when and who. Of course who, because Sauron would come back in a different form each time, a different man, woman, child; each having to be stopped. It was a constant battle, although the man sensed that this time, although the same as other times was different somehow. Whether it was the static charged air, or the poise of the cloaked figures back as if set in urgency. Yes, this time was different, but he knew not why.

The cloaked figure drew in a breath, raising her head and the man got s sense that she was looking straight at him, though he could not know for sure as her face with shrouded. "One hundred a twelve years from now, when you and I are born again, on this specific day, Sauron will rear his godforsaken head again." She spat his name as if a curse, and refrained from picking up the salt shaker and throwing it over her right shoulder for good luck. "He will appear as a man, a very powerful and rich man, yet I know not what it is he will do." A hint of resentment in her voice at not having gotten all the facts.

"He will have two daughters of elven descent. Twins. Alike in blood and looks. But different in personalities. Do not trust one of them for she is her fathers daughter, yet the other one is a thinker." She sighed and hug her head, the man watched her with growing anxiety, "I do not know the names, for that you will have to observe to know which is which." She looked up once more, shaking her head as is coming up from a dream "On this night, in one hundred and twelve years, you must grab the twin that is closest to her father. And take her to Valinor, there he will not reach her and it is her he needs to complete his task."

The man physically blanched at that one "Valinor?" He asked incredulously, "The home of the elves? But I cannot pass through its gates." He said his voice filled with sadness but no regret, understanding the choice him and his fair wife made long ago.

"Yes, yes well, the twins will help you, as will Glorfindel." She said a small smile in her voice once more. "That is all I can tell you for now, I know not any more than I know now. But drink your tea my dear boy, you'll need your strength." She said a motherly tone in her voice.

"But I have no…" He began, and started as he looked down to find a steaming cup of, yes tea. A ghost of a smile fitted into his features, "I shall never get used to that." He said, amusement sparking in his eyes.

She laughed, a gentle sea breeze instead of the hoarse laugh of women of that time, "…This time is different." She stated, her tone serious, betraying no laughter from moments before, "He is stronger, more calculating. And he has help from various sources. These children he will have…They will not be normal. He will do…Terrible things to them. And I pity them for having to go through it." She said with sadness in her voice.

The man blinked, confused, "But how can you feel saddened for them dear woman? For aren't they the one's who will help him gain power?" He asked.

She sighed once more, ages conveyed within her breathes, "Yes, they will, but I fear so they will do this unwillingly."

The man nodded, although still not convinced as he brought the cup to his lips, sipping a little hesitantly. A warmth spilled through his veins, his nerves settled and his heart calmed. He grinned, "It has been a long time and many re-births since I have tasted Miruvor." He paused as if remembering something, "How in Arda did you get your hands on this?" He laughed.

She laughed once more, her shoulders shaking, "My love, there are some things a woman has to keep secret." He grinned at her once more drinking the Miruvor with renewed vigour.

She watched him with affection, slowly getting up from her seat. He looked up with startled eyes, "But surely you will sit with me and finish you tea, as well?" He asked a little hopefully. Their meetings were always brief, never seeing each other for more than an hour at a time. Some meetings being as far between as spanning seven ages.

"What tea?" She asked, mischief coursing through her words. She was already walking towards the door as the man looked towards her side of the table. There was no cup, and no sign that there ever had been a cup. He shook his head, amusement in his eyes as he looked back at her stepping through the doorway.

"Farewell oracle." He said softly, knowing she would hear.

"Farewell Estel, my loved one." She replied sorrow evident in her voice.

May 18th 2078

Emily Elias was a first grade know it all and a second grade over achiever. It was the first day of semester and she was already on her way to school in the wee hours of seven-thirty am. She had stayed at a friends house the night before in a bid to be a normal teenager for once, and not herself which was a geek apparently according to her sister Sarah.

It wasn't that she disliked her friend Dana's house, it was just that Dana liked to sleep in and get into school within the nick of time, and being Emily, she liked to be early and have enough time to sit and read a chapter or two before the bell rang in the library. It wasn't that she was a geek in all senses; she guessed that she dressed 'cool' enough, and she knew all the slang terms. It was just that most of the time she didn't feel comfortable wearing the 'cool' clothes or using the 'cool' terms.

Her sister Sarah was another question entirely. Sarah was the epitome of suave. She had the looks, she had the bad girl personality and she had the boys. She even had the better name. Sarah raised the question of innocence but with something within. Emily resonated 'wet drip'. It wasn't that Emily was jealous, or even bitter. She had come to these conclusions long ago, and as she walked up the stone steps of St. Vincent Preparatory Private High School on the upper east side of New York, she couldn't help but mull over these things.

There was hardly anyone there, school wasn't top start for another forty five minutes, so she had some time on her hands to read a bit if she chose to. She walked to her locker, saying hello to a few members of staff and stopping to chat to the janitor. Because really, that was the type of person she was. The type to talk to janitor's instead of her own friends. Clearly, something had gone wrong.

Reaching her locker, she shoved her overnight bag into her locker which contained three sets of underwear(because you can never leave things to chance and you never know) three boxes of tampons (just in case) her laptop and two chargers (because anything could happen to the first one) her phone, and two spare phones (again, you could never know what could happen) and three changes of clothes (just in case something spilled on her clothes). It also had three sets of pyjamas, two toothbrushes, four tubes of toothpaste, contacts lenses for the abundance of about three months and last but not least some dental floss.

Some would say she was crazy, others that she had a sever case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but she would just say she packed 'just in case'. In truth the only phrase that seemed to come out of her mouth these days was 'just in case'. Oh and the words 'I don't have OCD' that soon follow. Looking around at the hallway as she made her way to the library, she noted the cream walls and grey lockers, both only breaking with a door to a classroom appeared.

It took her all but a few minutes to get to the library and she pushed open the door quietly, tip toeing in as not to make her presence known. To be known was the defeat the point of a library in the sense that it meant seclusion. As Emily made her way to the bookshelf she knew so well- the science fiction section- a book to her left caught her eye and she veered off in that direction, back towards the dark recesses of the oldest books in the library.

St. Vincent's Prep was an old school, having been founded in the early 1800's, and was used as a holding ground for books to be moved on to the Library of Congress. Although some of the books never made it to the famous library and stayed where they were in the halls of St. Vincent's. And that was where Emily came in, reading anything she could get her hands on.

Although the book she found in the dark corners of the backmost shelves was a little out of the norm. The cover seemed to be made of gold. And when she plucked it form its shelf, it certainly felt that heavy. The cover was inlaid with gems of green and blue, giving her the sense of forests. Its title was in a language she didn't recognise but as soon as the incomprehension set in, the words 'Eleven recipe book for his high master Lord Elrond' came to mind.

She was so shocked at that though that she almost dropped the book, catching it between her fingers at the last moment. She took a deep breath, those words were obviously the work of my imagination, she thought to herself; I mean, Lord Elrond? What kind of whack name was that? She shook her head; obviously, she was spending too much time alone and not enough time within the company of other human beings. And those human beings did not contain fictional characters that she read in books.

She put the book back rather hurriedly, rushing over to the more lighted part of the library to pick out a Stephen king novel that she was likely to have read before. Finding a particularly comfy chair, she sat down intending to read until the bell rang for homeroom.

Emily read for a while, although not until homeroom as one of her phone buzzed in her pocket. Pulling the device out of her pocket, the holographic miniature person now used for caller ID showed it was her mother, although what her mother would want at-she checked her watch- five past eight in the morning escaped her.

"Accept." She murmured to the phone and almost instantly her mothers voice was blaring down the phone, at an alarming pitch and rate.

"Emily? Emily? Can you hear me? Oh how does this blasted thing work? Emily?" Emily shook her head, her mother grew up around this technology, why she could not use it was a mystery to her.

Emily sighed, "Yes mom, I'm here I'm here. What is it that's so urgent?" She asked, getting up to put the book back on the shelf and making her way to the door of the library, she was sure the bell would ring in about ten minutes, and although her homeroom was only five minutes away, it did nothing but good for the soul to be early.

Her mother was silent for a moment, "Well its about Sarah…" Emily almost groaned, it seemed she never got a phone call just for her. The person almost always asked for Sarah, or had a hidden agenda to getting to Sarah in most guys cases'.

"What did she do this time, mom?" She asked exasperatedly, reaching her homeroom and standing outside the door as two teenaged girls a little younger than her walked out.

Her mother coughed, almost unnoticeably, "Well really she hasn't done anything…It's about that art show I was supposed to take you to today…" Her mother began. Emily's heart sank, she knew what was coming next- she knew it and she didn't want to hear it.

Obviously her mother was oblivious to her discomfort because she ploughed on anyway, "I'm going to have to skip it honey. You see, Sarah has this thing tonight- Something about a graffiti contest she entered…And well you know how busy dad gets…And him and Sarah are leaving tonight for that business trip he's taking her on…" Emily walked into her homeroom almost blind, she felt sick to her stomach and more than a little angry. This always happened, she always came first. No matter what Emily did, no matter how amazing her grades were –so amazing she was in the top three of the school- no matter how much she tried to be the 'better daughter'. It didn't matter, because she always came first.

Normally Emily felt no bitterness towards her sister, but at times like these it was enough to wish she wasn't a twin. It just made her so mad…Unfortunately her mother was still talking, and she didn't want to seem rude so she tried to listen even though it seemed to stab her stomach every time she did. "Honey listen I'm sorry…Its just I won't see her for six months…And I thought it appropriate I spend at least one night with her…I hope you don't mind baby girl, just this once yeah?" Her mother asked hopefully, like she did every time. "You understand right?"

It was always 'just this once' or 'this won't happen again' or 'you mean as much to me as she does to me'. All complete and utter bullshit. She was the better twin if she should be so bold, but she wasn't better loved and by God it hurt her to admit that. Emily took a deep breath, "Yeah mom...I understand you. We'll just hang another time." Except this art show only occurs once every ten years; but she left that part out. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" And cutting off her mother's response she hung up the phone, fighting the urge to cry, scream or flip some table's over- whichever emotion came first, really.

She settled instead for laying her head on the table instead, letting her bag drop to the floor by her feet. It wasn't even like Sarah didn't try and include Emily, because she did, all the time. But Sarah will be Sarah and what she did couldn't even be called 'helping'- more 'embarrassing' in most cases. Especially when it included any guy Emily liked. It seemed Emily couldn't keep a secret from Sarah, although Sarah kept many. And whatever guy Emily liked, Sarah would try and set them up…With disastrous consequences.

It seemed that although Emily and Sarah were identical twins in the case that they looked so alike friends, teachers and often their own parents at times got them mixed up, guys just didn't seem to want Emily. Sure enough they wanted to be friends, but never anything more. The thought flummoxed Emily, for surely she had the same voice and body as her sister, the same guys who thought Sarah hot should think Emily hot. But, obviously not, because although Emily was seventeen, she had yet to acquire a boyfriend for more than three weeks.

The bell rang suddenly, pulling Emily out of her thoughts, just as Dana walked in and smiled at her. Dana was so used to falling asleep with Emily and finding her gone in the mornings that it just didn't faze her anymore. Dana was what you might call an 'All American Girl'. With her blond hair and blue eyes, she sure was a beauty. As she came to sit at the desk next to Emily, the door swung open and the one and only miss 'bad-girl-cheerleader-head-of-the-school-supreme-overlord' walked in- the legend herself; Sarah Elias.

And really, Emily's day just went downhill from there on in.

First the guy she liked started to flirt with her until she pointed out that it was Emily and not Sarah, then he had gone bright pink and muttered something about being sorry and needing to check on the birds outside. Then she slipped in the cafeteria and her food went flying onto the nearest cute guy, not to mention the nearest teacher. And then to make matters worse she slipped up in science class and got three answers wrong and said 'sperm point' instead of 'spurn point' in her geography lesson. Those events alone would have sent Emily packing with a box of tissues if Sarah hadn't cornered her on the way to the last period of the day.

Emily had had Art and Sarah world history, but obviously, Sarah had other plans and cornered her twin sister as she had walked with Dana. For her part, sensing sister trouble, Dana had promised to wait for Emily outside of their Art room and had left the twins to it, having been on the brunt end of one of their fights before.

Sarah Elias was the embodiment of beauty, she had blonde hair that shone true to the sun, and a set of blue green eyes that entranced boys and held them in her master spider's web. She was tall, slim and had a set of boobs to die for. Emily looked exactly the same, except maybe her boobs weren't so magnificent, and maybe her eyes not quite so gleaming, her stance not so demanding for power; her hair not so sun stealing.

"Emily…" Sarah trailed off; using that tone of voice Emily knew to mean one thing: A favour. And most likely a favour Emily wouldn't do without protest.

Emily threw her eyes skyward, anticipating the worst, "What do you want now, Sarah?" She asked, if not a little angry. But it was hard to stay angry at Sarah when she was looking up at you underneath made up eyes and skin so pure it hurt to look at.

"What? Can't a sister say hey to a sister without getting ridiculed?" She asked defensively, her eyes disguisedly hurt.

"No." Emily muttered, "They can't, not if they're named Sarah Elias anyway." She huffed a sigh, "What do you want? Spit it out." She said in a no nonsense voice.

Sarah dropped all pretences and regarded her sister coolly, she loved Emily, truly she did, but sometimes she just wasn't…cool. She never did anything to be cool, and then she always complained that guys didn't like her. Sarah always just said, well if you can't walk the walk…Which was probably a little harsh seeing as Emily was her twin sister, but if she didn't say it, who would? "I need you to switch classes with me." She said simply, waiting for the 'no', already forming an argument in her mind or why she should.

Emily visibly spluttered, "Switch places with you?" She almost shouted, lowering her voice to a dangerous hiss when a teacher went past, "Do you know how much trouble we could get in?"

Sarah expected this, "Emmy, mom and dad can't even tell us apart without their morning coffee, how is Mr. Glorfindel supposed to?" She asked, naming her World History class teacher.

Emily sighed, she had no argument and this day was already going to the dogs, "Why don't you want to go to world history?" She asked exasperatedly.

"Because I wanna be with Jeff. And he's in your Art class not my World History class." Sarah said as If it were the most obvious thing in the goddamn world. But that was a lie. Sarah knew it was a lie but somehow she couldn't bring herself to say the real reason. And that was that her dad had called her that morning and told her specifically not to go to that class. And, rather than skip it and get into trouble and risk having to explain her father's words which baffled her, a switch had been all she could think of.

"For god sake Sarah, is that all you fucking think about?" Emily was having a hard time keeping her voice down, and Sarah raised a delicately shaped eyebrow at her words. "You know what, Sarah? Do whatever the fuck you want. Yeah, I'll take your place in World History, and yeah, you can go out with mom tonight. And yeah, you can go on a six month business trip with dad that the school fucking approved. Just do whatever you want, because I don't give a shit anymore." Some students had begun to stop and stare as Emily shouted at her sister.

The twins were known to have their disagreements, but it was general knowledge that they were pretty tight and if you messed with one, the other would kick your arse. But this? This was like the fight of the century, this was major gossip and half of the girls were physically itching to get back to their respective classes and spread the 'goss'.

"Emily what are you-" Sarah began, her eyes half filled with fury and half filled with hurt, but Emily couldn't care less, she had put up with her crap for seventeen years and surely she was allowed a break point.

"Save it." Emily murmured, turning on her heal to make her way to Sarah's World History class, "Have a great time with dad." And with that, she was striding towards the other side of the school, leaving a very confused and very angry Sarah in her wake.

So what did you guys think? I had to split this chapter in two because the total words were like 8,370 or something completely ridiculous like that. And to save your eyes, I cut it down (:

My only thing is that I ask you to please review, I want to know if I should continue with this, or if I'm wasting my time and any feed back is severely appreciated.

Thank you so much for reading (:

Kira x

- I am completely and utterly flummoxed. I got a fair bit of reception to this story yet not one review? Surely if you clicked on you, you wanted to read it, right? Well. Thankyou for reading, but I'd appreciate it if you would review too.

I almost always review a story and it would be lovely for someone to do the same, thankyou.