Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings and all its characters and places, etc. are not mine: they are J.R.R. Tolkien's. If they WERE mine, I would find some way (don't ask how) to make Elijah Wood my Frodo slave (just don't ask, period).

Warnings: Violence, future, death, romance, angst, action, swearing, lust for power...ahh, just about everything. ;P

A/N: My *second* LotR fic started on Nov. 24th, 2001. This is going to be a very odd fic, mark my words!

So what is this about? Well, at the end of The Lord of the Rings we all figured the Ring had been destroyed. But what if, for some reason, the Ring HADN'T been completely devoured by the fires of the Cracks of Doom? (I know, I KNOW - logic at the end of LOTR, such as the Ring-wraiths 'dying' and such, tells us the Ring WAS destroyed but...uhhh...maybe it wasn't! Are you with me? No? Well too bad. ;P) Anyway. So this takes place in the future - as in, 2001/2002. Our times. Get my drift? The Ring is found again.

Sort of Important: I, personally, envision Henry as Elijah Wood when he played Barney Snow in "The Bumblebee Flies Anyway"...*koff*

Anyway, the suggested musical pieces for this fic are "May it Be" (Okay, OKAY - it's on the movie soundtrack. But it's so GOOD, though!! =P), and "Superman is Dead" by Our Lady Peace, because it fits perfectly for Henry.

The Resurrection of Power

Part I - The Discovery

By Silver

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

This will all fall down

Like everything else that was

This too shall pass

And all of the words we said

We can't take back

- "The Last Beautiful Girl", (Matchbox Twenty)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Ring was gone. Destroyed. Forever.

Frodo closed his eyes as a swell of intense emotions swept over him. It was the end. Of the Ring, and of himself, probably. Sam stood dutifully beside him as they awaited imminent death. A shiver worked its way up Frodo's spine as he felt a tear drip down the side of his nose, and trace its way to the edge of his mouth. Salty and bitter, mingled with the sharp, metallic taste of blood.

'Perhaps', Frodo thought, 'It would have been better if I'd thrown myself into the Cracks of Doom along with Gollum and the...and...the Ring.'

Gollum had, indeed, been consumed by the mountain's flames, but the Ring had not. Instead, it had fallen from Gollum's grasp and now sat precariously on a little rocky ledge. Teetering, as the hot fires reflected against the golden band.

But Sauron was supposedly dead, and soon Frodo and Sam would be rescued by Gwaihir, and after a little while would return home to the Shire with their companions. And, many years later, they would travel over the Sea to the Undying Lands.

Time would take its inevitable toll on the world as centuries following would bring forth the end of the Hobbit civilization, and the last elf would leave Middle-earth. Mount Doom - Orodruin - now silenced, would slowly crumble, as the rise of Man would bring the forgetting of the past. And, with this forgetting, the Ring would disappear from the memory of the world, as well.

That is, until now.

Present Day

"It still hasn't snowed. And it's already December..." Henry Barlow said quietly, as he walked down the cold white sidewalk towards St. Helvetica Secondary School. His dark blue eyes scanned the overcast sky, as if looking for some hidden snowflakes that weren't falling.

His best friend, Martin Brown-Wass, shrugged his broad shoulders.

"I think of it this way, Henry: if it doesn't snow, then I don't have to shovel the driveway!"

There was a brief silence, then Henry laughed.

"In essence, you're lazy." He said with a small smile, but it quickly disappeared. "Marty...today is the day. I'm going to talk to Natalie." Henry ran a hand through his slightly messy, short brown hair. "M-Maybe I can ask her to go on a walk with me or something, after school..."

Martin glanced at his best friend, shaking his head. His light brown eyes were dark with worry, and his mouth was pressed into a thin line.

"Listen, Henry. Natalie is one of those girls that guys like us only dream about. Besides, she has what's-his-face always hanging off her like a sick dog."

"Michael Tyndale. He was in my gr. 10 Career Studies class. He's a bastard. What does Natalie see in him?!"

By now, Martin and Henry had almost reached their high school. It was a large, brick structure overflowing with students. It was the only secondary school, in fact, in the district which caused for it to swell with numbers. And, as all other Canadian high schools, St. Helvetica (fondly called St. Hell by most) was suffering from a distinct lack of money.

Its location was the only saving factor - a pretty spot on the banks of Lake Norwell, down in the southern part of the province Ontario (in Canada, of course). The large town of St. Helvetica had been built there because of the pretty area, if for no other reason.

In response to his friend's question, Martin shook his head slightly.

"Who's to say what Natalie Payette sees in ANY of the people she hangs around with? Like I said yesterday, Henry, cliques are nature's way of elbowing out the losers."

Henry frowned, adjusting his heavy, navy blue backpack. The cool wind blew around him and Martin as they neared the entrance doors to St. Helvetica.

"So you're saying that I'm a loser, then?" Henry said slowly, pulling open one of the large glass doors and entering the school. His locker, which he shared with Martin, was at the end of the long hallway, which had many other larger hallways branching off from it.

"Yes. And that means I'm a loser, too." Marty pointed out. "Oh, come on. Don't look so depressed! We don't wear the latest clothes, and we're certainly too smart to be popular anytime soon. Plus, you have your collection of Star Wars stuff. I'm sure the only thing Michael Tyndale collects is pictures from his many female admirers."

Henry opened up the locker and gathered his books and binders, ignoring Martin's comments as his best friend chattered away.

Henry sighed, glancing down at the black, three-ring binder now in his hands. It was labelled neatly, and had boredom-induced doodles on the back.

'Advanced English - Henry Barlow, Gr. 12'.

"Martin," Henry suddenly blurted, interrupting the larger boy. "Martin, I'm skipping first period. Tell Mrs. Bismilla that I slept in late or something. It's only English, and I'm getting an 89 in it right now. Not like one absence will dent my grade."

"Oh my *god*, this isn't because of Natalie, is it?" Martin rolled his eyes.

"No! I just want to go for a walk and clear my head. Martin, just do this for me, okay? Please?" Henry's blue eyes pleaded desperately with his friend.

"Fine. But DON'T expect me to cover up a skip for you again. EVER."

"Alright. Well, bye. Have...fun."

Martin pretended to hit Henry on the arm with his English text book, then grinned and headed off for class. Henry let out a sigh of relief, put his green jacket on, then walked back towards the school's main doors. The denim of his loose, faded blue jeans did little to keep out the cool air as he went in the direction of the half-frozen Lake Norwell, which the high school overlooked. The many smokers, not allowed in the school with cigarettes, caused grey clouds to hang low around the back part of brick structure. Henry coughed slightly - his asthma working up - as he moved through clusters of teenagers talking with each other about various, petty things.

After a few minutes, he reached the frozen, colourless sand at the edge of the Lake, and stopped. It was quiet here, and a few gnarled, twisted looking cedars dotted the 'beach', half hiding him from view.

Lake Norwell looked large and cold, murky waters lapping the beach slightly. Besides the so-called beach at St. Helvetica Secondary School, the rest of the Lake was rimmed with more thick, old cedars, and sad-looking willow trees.

Henry sighed, kicking at a small stone with the toes of his beat-up white runners.

"Hi."

A quiet, feminine voice, from over by one of the cedars, broke the solace of Henry's depressing paradise. He glanced up, and was met with a sight that later on would often keep him going when he wanted to give up.

The girl before him was tall, with a slender build and chin-length, dark blonde hair - her bangs pulled to the sides with red hair clips. Her gray eyes had a certain depth to them as Henry watched her walk towards him.

"Uh, Natalie, right?" He asked in a small voice, knowing full well who she was.

"Yeah. Natalie Payette. Grade twelve. Who are you?" She replied, standing beside him and gazing out at the lake. She hugged her arms around herself, and Henry could smell the distinct odour of lingering smoke. He also noticed that her white, puffy coat and jean flares were designer, and had probably cost Natalie - or most likely, her parents - a lot of money.

"Henry Barlow. I'm in grade twelve, too."

"Henry. Now there's an outdated name. Your parents must have had a sense of humour." Natalie said, her voice flat.

Henry looked away, a small spark of anger in him. "They named me after my grandfather, who died two days before I was born."

"Oh. Um, I was only joking, Henry." Natalie looked at the boy, a slightly apologetic look on her face. "Hey, my cousin's dog was called Henry...oh, insert foot in mouth, right?"

Henry gave the girl beside him a half-smile. "Never mind. My friends always give me grief about name, too. So...what are you doing here, anyway?"

"Sometimes I come here in the morning because I have a spare first period. Well, what are you doing here?"

"Skipping." Henry walked closer to where the water lapped gently against the sand and stones. Suddenly, he noticed something glinting there.

"What are you looking at?" Natalie queried, bending down to where Henry was looking. "Oh, you found a ring!"

Henry nodded, and carefully picked it up. It looked to be a dull gold colour, and fairly common. He slowly turned it over in his palm, admiring the way it seemed untarnished and rather pretty, in a way.

"Well, put it on, then." Natalie urged. "See if it fits!"

"Alright, alright." Henry slipped the golden band on, then promptly disappeared.

Wyne, Michigan

The tall, wizened old man carefully lifted the whistling kettle off the stove and set it on the counter. His leathery hands reached for a chipped white mug, then placed a tea bag inside of it. Following this, he poured boiling water from the kettle into the mug, then stirred it around with a long, silver spoon.

If one looked closely, you could see his dark grey eyes were rather shadowed with worry, as though he was anticipating something terrible about to happen. And if one looked closer, you could see that his hands gripped the mug too tightly as he peered through his window, gazing out at the woods beyond.

A tall staff stood beside him, leaning against the counter, with a curious red sphere visible at the top. Suddenly, the orb began to flicker, then glow brightly, filling the small kitchen was a brilliant light.

The man looked up, his eyes even more worried - but certainly not surprised. He took the stick in his right hand, then wearily said-

"It is time."

* * *

Henry was silent as he sat beside Natalie on the hard sand. The Ring lay before them, and their eyes gazed at it warily.

"You know, this could all be like some sort of dream, Henry." Natalie suddenly said. "I mean, in the real world people don't just put on rings that make them invisible. It's totally impossible..."

Henry shook his head slightly. "I don't know how many times I've pinched myself, but evidently enough to leave a mark. This isn't a *dream*, Natalie. This is *real*. I put on that Ring, and I disappeared. You saw it yourself! And what's more, when I did it the other two times, and you did it once, we disappeared yet again! That Ring has powers, I'm telling you!"

Natalie narrowed her eyes. "It can't have powers! It must be a trick of the eye or something!"

The two had been outside with the Ring for nearly three hours, missing all of first and second period. But they had discovered it was no ordinary ring - the first time Henry had slipped it on his finger, he had become invisible. Natalie had shrieked and gone a bit crazy, while Henry had needed the aid of his puffer to breathe. While frightening and alarming at first, it soon became rather intriguing to Henry.

"Look, imagine what we could do with this! A magic ring! We could spy on people...we could become... become rich!" Henry's sapphire eyes glinted with excitement.

"Rich...?" Natalie murmured. "Wait, no! You've gone mental, Henry! This can only be something bad, I'm telling you! And it's not MAGIC, either. It's probably some elaborate plot or something...you know, one of those Funniest Home Videos things?"

It was then that the two teenagers became aware that someone was standing behind them.

Henry slowly turned his head, and found himself looking upwards at a tall, wiry old man with a short, white beard and equally short, white hair. His stormy eyes were set deep into his face, above a rather large, aqualine nose. The man was clad in dark trousers and a thick coat, but in his hand was a large stick with a ruby-coloured orb, which made Natalie take on a rather incredulous expression.

"Look, Henry, it's the wizard of Oz!" She said, smirking.

"Close." The man said, his voice deep, with a vague accent. "But not of Oz. My name is Aesop."

Henry's mouth dropped. "Are you a - a teacher?"

"I suppose you could say that. But I am to be a guide for you, more than anything. The Valar sent me from the Undying Lands to help you hide away the One Ring."

There was a pause. "Well your Val-whatsit friends from the Land of the Undead or whatever it's called, can just fuck off." Natalie stated, glaring at Aesop.

The man shook his head slightly. "If the Ring-bearer has the same attitude as you, young lady, then we will all be dead by this time next week." He turned to Henry expectantly.

"Did you call me the-the Ring-bearer?" Henry's eyes widened as he stood up, brushing the sand off of him. A slightly sarcastic, disbelieving smile crossed his face. "Like from The Lord of the Rings, or something?"

Aesop frowned. "Ah, that has been a much debated manuscript. When the creator of it - I believed he called himself 'John Tolkien', here - made it, there was much anger among the Istari. We have lived to hide the knowledge of the Ring for so long...but then HE decided to write it all down. After many years, he did away with himself, realising that he had let the secret out. It was sad, to lose such a fine Maia. But he DID make the Ruling Ring's existence known to all of Man, which was the worst thing he could have ever done! But lo! all people thought it was a simple story. No one figured it out...no one realised that the story he wrote was *true*. But nevertheless, the Valar saw it fit to send me here to make sure that the Ring was never found, just in case. And here today, of all people, you, my boy, have found it!"

There was a long silence, as Henry let this information sink in. Either the man was very much crazy, or he was actually a wizard...

"Prove it." Henry suddenly blurted. "Prove to me that you are really a wizard, and then I'll believe you."

Aesop nodded, but his face was grim. "Alright then."br

Lifting his staff, the wizard said something in a strange language, then brought it down to the sand. With a cracking sound, small blue flowers suddenly appeared, planted deep into the sand.

"You see? I am as I say. Aesop the Red, at your service." The wizard bowed his head, looking grave. "And now, will you listen to me?"

"Yes. But...you were saying before - Tolkien's book was REAL? And Tolkien was a...a..." Henry trailed off, suddenly feeling very young and stupid.

"Isildur, Sauron, Frodo, Morgoth...they were all very much alive. And yes, the man called 'Tolkien' on earth was a wizard."

"Wait, Frodo was real, you say?" Henry raised his eyebrows. "Hobbits were...are...real?"

"Here and there you may find a handful of them, but they now hide from people and the wide world. I myself have never seen one, nor will I probably ever. Although there lives inside you the blood of Baggins. It is said that in the Ring-bearer following the one called Frodo, there would be some of that faint bloodline." Aesop said slowly.

"So you're saying that I'm related to Frodo and Bilbo?" Henry choked out. "Dear god...I can't believe this is happening. The Lord of the Rings was just some dumb book I read for English last year...but now it's... real. Hang on! The Ring was destroyed in The Return on the King! So why did you say, before, that-"

"-Patience." Aesop said gently, placing a hand on Henry's shoulder. "All will be explained in due time. To answer your question, it has been recently discovered that the Ring was never destroyed, for that is impossible. Its powers can only be put on hold for a while, so to speak. To be put somewhere that no one will find it for many thousands of years. That is why it was sent to Orodruin, into the Cracks of Doom - during the Third Age - where it WAS hidden away for a long time, which was good. And now - here in the Seventh Age - since you have found it, you must do the same thing."

For quite a while, Natalie had been silent. But now she spoke with anger in her voice. "Throw it in the Cracks of Doom?! Look, I read that book last year, too. But that Mount Doom crumbled and stuff at the end, so where is Henry supposed to put the Ring?!"

Aesop smiled slightly. "Lands have shifted since the days of Middle-earth, and many things have changed. Where Orodruin used to be - and Mordor - it is now a barren wasteland in Northern Canada, presently called 'Baffin Island'."

There was a snort. "You've got to be kidding. Baffin Island?!" Natalie said, laughing.

Henry raised his hand to quiet her. "Aesop, you seem to think that I need to destroy the Ring as quickly as possible. But why? Sauron is dead, isn't he? That was so long ago, I mean. So he couldn't still be floating around..." The Ring-bearer ran his fingers nervously through his short, messy, dark brown hair.

"Ah, not so, not so. When the Ring was cast into Orodruin, Sauron was weakened *almost* to death, but you see - as long as the Ring remains, the Dark Lord's spirit lives on. As soon as someone gets a hold of the Ring, Sauron's spirit basically flares up again. It has been drifting for thousands of years, ever-seeking for the Ring. For the ticket to power, once more. And the moment you touched the Ring, Sauron's spirit *knew* that it had been found again. He will take over someone's body, and come after you. And...well, he also wants revenge. You have much to fear, young one." Aesop said gently, resting his hand on Henry's head. "Once more, the fate of the world rests upon someone's shoulders - or more specifically, in their hand."

Henry unclasped his fist slowly, and the Ring - resting in his sweaty palm - glinted in the weak sunshine that peered over the clouds. He swallowed, feeling rather frightened. It was as though he'd walked into some sort of dream - a book had seemingly just sprung to life and enveloped him within the story.

"I will hide away the Ring in Baffin Island, Aesop, as I must. But when do we leave? How do we get there? Because I'm afraid I don't have the, uh, money to get a plane ticket..." Henry looked sideways at Natalie as he said this, slightly embarrassed.

"You are brave indeed, Ring-bearer, to take this on. But these 'airplanes' are out of the question, anyway - if the Dark Lord were to find you on one, it would put everyone else aboard in grave danger. No, we must use one of those confounded 'automobiles' that I dislike so much." Aesop sniffed slightly, as though automobiles were like a terrible child that is not easy to discipline.

"You mean a car?" Natalie said flatly. "Look, buddy, when did those people from the Land of the Undead send you here, anyway?"

"Several hundred years ago. I've kept mostly to myself in a forest near the state called Michigan... I try to keep away from technology as much as possible. Although I *did* recently purchase an oven... quite a brilliant invention. Mankind has come far in only a few short centuries..." Aesop trailed off, lost in his thoughts.br

Henry and Natalie exchanged amused looks, then Henry said - "You didn't answer my first question, Aesop. When do you and I leave?"

"Today." The old wizard promptly replied. "So you must gather some things to bring with you, whilst I hunt down a vehicle..."

"Hang on! You can't just leave me behind! Chrissakes, I'm coming too." Natalie suddenly broke out, hands on her hips. "I'm involved in this just as much a Henry."

Aesop sighed deeply. "It is dangerous - far more dangerous than you can imagine, young lady. Sauron is more powerful then you think. Death is in his hand, and power rests upon his brow. Don't shudder, you two, for I am simply giving you the reality of this new Quest."

Henry swallowed. "We'll meet back here in an hour. Natalie and I will go to our homes and pack stuff for this little 'adventure', I guess."

Aesop nodded, glancing at the sky. "The day moves quickly, so hurry! And tell no one of what you are doing." The wizard watched as the two teenagers sped off, his gaze lingering on the brown-haired boy. Not the most likely person, of course. Henry did not look powerful - he wasn't very tall, and he was rather thin - but hope for tomorrow rested upon him, nevertheless.

- End of Part I -