The Shield of Valir

Part One

Project Rivendell

A/n unashamedly romantic 'Mary-Sue' falling into Middle Earth Fic. Oh and for the purpose of the story, Elrond's wife Celebrian is good and dead! (God bless Alternate Universe…) Based more on the films than the novel (where Celebrian is not mentioned anyway…). The Middle Earth part of the story takes place in the four years between the end of the fall of Mordor and the sailing to the Undying land of Elrond, Gandalf, Frodo and others.

Note: This story was originally called Project Rivendell, mainly because I had not decided exactly how my characters got into Middle Earth (D'oh!). Now I have, I have altered the name to something a little more 'Middle Earth'. However, I have kept the title Project Rivendell for the first part, as it fits in with what the characters were doing. As I am lazy, I have not altered the headings on subsequent chapters….

Present Day - Mid-Wales

"Shit! I've broken a nail," said Rhonda, throwing her shovel to one side. Rhonda was a twenty-two year old daddy's girl, with long, expertly teased bottle-blonde hair that looked garish alongside the designer 'distressed' jeans and FCUK t-shirt she reluctantly wore. However, her Jimmy Choo shoes redeemed her … in her own eyes at least, though hardly suitable for the job in hand. After watching a television series about gladiators, Rhonda (whose father despaired of her ever settling to anything) had decided to become an archaeologist, but so far had not found any gladiators' remains (and it was probable she would faint if she did).

"Quick! Call an ambulance!" cried Will. Will was about thirty, tall and black with a winning smile. Unlike Rhonda, he was not afraid of getting his hands dirty. His small round spectacles and corduroy pants gave him the air of a professor, though he was still working on his degree in archaeology, having come into it relatively late having decided that selling real estate was not for him. Now he liked nothing better than digging around in the dirt, finding artefacts from a bygone age.

"Stop messing about you two." The warning came from the third member of the team, Gwyneth, who took archaeology much more seriously than either of her assistants. "We've only got two weeks to find evidence that Rivendell really existed, and it's taken us one week to dig this far.." She had been consumed with proving the existence of Rivendell since her late father had told her tales of it when she was a child. It was only in the past few years that she had learned that it might have existed somewhere in mid-Wales. Then it had taken her another couple of years to persuade the owner of the estate to allow her and her team to dig. All negotiations had been done through his agent, and he had steadfastly refused to meet Gwyneth and her team. Now they stood in a large cleft in the valley, that had grown even wider due to the extensive digging operation that had taken place over the previous week.

"Why only two weeks?" asked Will. "We're not in anyone's way here."

"It was part of the agreement with the estate manager. He says that his boss, doesn't want people tramping over his land indefinitely," explained Gwyneth, not for the first time. "He … big boss man that is … has invited us to dinner tonight, so perhaps we can ask for more time, but he won't give it to us if he thinks we're just slacking in order to prolong the job."

"Well, I think we're wasting our time," said Rhonda, leaning on her shovel, and examining her broken nail. "I mean, it's like the Holy Grail or Jesus, isn't it? There's no proof that they were here."

"Lots of people believe Jesus actually existed without needing the evidence to support it." Will reminded her. "Not sure about the Holy Grail though."

"The Holy Grail is a state of mind," Gwyneth told him. "It's about altruism and doing something good for someone without wanting anything in return. Now come on. Get digging."

The trio spent the rest of the morning alternatively digging and using ultrasound equipment to try and pinpoint hidden artefacts. Their search was in vain. They sat down to a lunch of fish paste sandwiches and cola, already looking forward to a decent dinner.

The owner of the estate was a rich entrepreneur, who lived a slightly shady existence, never being photographed or giving interviews about his many and varied business interests. This had led to 'Howard Hughes' type myths surrounding him.

"I wonder if he keeps all his fingernail clippings." Will mused during lunch.

"I hope so. He can replace mine," Rhonda said, seriously.

"Don't worry, Rhonda. I'm sure Daddy will buy you some nice new nails." Gwyneth quipped. She liked Rhonda really, even though the blonde's vacuity annoyed her sometimes. Gwyneth, with her untidy red hair and genuinely tatty jeans had never quite mastered the art of looking ladylike in all her thirty-five years, whereas Rhonda managed it even dressed in her oldest clothes (which were generally less than three months old anyway).

"Daddy," Rhonda sulked, "has cut up my credit card. How will I manage on my student loan?"

"The same way as the rest of us manage. Beans on toast and home-made wine." Will told her.

"And that's why I never stand downwind of Will," Rhonda teased.

"Oh, don't." Gwyneth laughed. "I've still got the hangover and tummy ache from that dandelion wine you made at Christmas, Will."

The friends teased and tormented each other for a while longer, all feeling reluctant to begin yet another futile search. They were unaware that, as they laughed and generally mucked around, a tall man stood watching them. He looked at his watch, and then at the team. It was only two o'clock. There was another couple of hours to go yet.

Eventually, the team resumed work, digging lazily. They were not used to rushing archaeological work, and even the thought of only having two weeks to complete the search didn't hasten their endeavours.

It happened at four o'clock, just as the man had known it would. It had begun to rain half an hour earlier. The distant roar of thunder could be heard across the valley. Far off lightening illuminated the early evening sky. Now the thunder and lightening was directly over the archaeological team, and they were discussing amongst themselves whether to finish for the day when Gwyneth pranged her shovel into what felt like solid rock, only as a flash of lightening lit up the ground around her, the rock shone like silver. There was a sudden connection between the lightening, Gwyneth, the shovel and the silver rock on the ground. She screamed, and then was gone, the ground sucking her downwards.

"Gwyneth!" Will and Rhonda called out together. They fell to the ground in unison, scrabbling among the dirt, desperately trying to find the hole that had swallowed their friend. It was no use. They couldn't find it. Rhonda sobbed on Will's shoulder. He slammed his own shovel into the ground just as another flash of lightening illuminated the sky. There was another connection between the various elements, and then Will and Rhonda, clinging to each other for dear life, were also sucked into the ground.

"So it begins," said the tall man, watching from the top of the valley.