Chance Encounter: Return to Middle Earth

Disclaimer: I don't own Balian, Imad, Legolas, Aragorn, Will, Jack, Paris, Hector, Merry, Pippin... you get the idea. I'm just borrowing them without permission but with every intention of returning them, savvy?

Chapter 1: Separated

In the distance, the sun was setting, casting its golden glow across the ocean. The waves tossed bits of driftwood and seaweed onto the white sand of the beach. A little boy, wearing a small tri-cornered hat skipped along the edge of the sea, singing to himself. His mother followed behind him more slowly, letting the waves caress her bare feet. The sea breezes blew her hair back as she looked out across the sea, deep in thought. Crabs scuttled into their sandy holes as she passed. Elizabeth Swann-Turner breathed in deeply the briny smell of the ocean, thinking of its steward and guardian, her husband Will Turner.

Blissfully unaware of his mother's wistful thoughts, William James Turner, son of the captain of the Flying Dutchman and the King of the Brethren Court, ran along the shore, exploring everything in his path. He'd just turned six, a big boy by his standards. His birthday had been a simple affair, although his mother had tried her best to make it special. It just hadn't been the same. Both Captain Barbossa and his Uncle Jack-Jack had promised to be there, not at the same time of course, —Willie wondered curiously about what would happen if they did meet each other— but neither of them had turned up. It was not unusual for Jack to be late, but Captain Barbossa had never missed a single birthday of his, and he always brought the most wonderful presents and stories. His mother often told him about his Grandpa Weatherby, and Willie was certain that his grandfather was just like the Captain.

A glint of gold caught his eye. It didn't look like seaweed. Cautiously, Willie crept closer. A man lay on the sand. A man with pointed ears. "Mama!" he shouted. "Mama, come quickly! There's a man on the beach!"

Elizabeth heard her son and she ran up to where he was, not caring if she wet her skirts or not. Willie was right to be surprised, for the man on the beach looked ethereal, even when soaked.

And he had Will's face.

"Oh God," breathed Elizabeth, suddenly feeling lightheaded. It wasn't possible, was it? Why did this man, if he could indeed be called that, have Will's face?

"What do we do, Mama?" asked Willie. Elizabeth bit her lip.

"We can't leave him out here," she said at last. Between the two of them, mother and son managed to drag the unconscious stranger back to their cottage overlooking the sea. Averting her gaze as much as possible, Elizabeth removed the stranger's outlandish wet clothing and dressed him in some of Will's old clothes. She set aside his quiver, bow and knives, putting them out of reach, in case he meant her or her son any harm. Once he was dressed, she settled him on a mattress in their small sitting room and then sent Willie off to bed. She would keep watch tonight, in case the stranger was liable to cause any mischief.


The first thing Legolas saw when he woke up was a dying fire in the hearth. The last thing he remembered was jumping from the Black Pearl into the dark bottomless ocean in a desperate attempt to help his friend, a mad blacksmith by the name of Balian. The thought of his friend made him sit up abruptly, and then he wished he hadn't. His head swam and dizziness swamped him. He groaned. The next thing he knew was that there was a click and the cold muzzle of a gun was placed against his temple. As his vision settled, he saw from the corner of his eye that it was a woman who was pointing a gun to his head.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"My name is Legolas," he told her truthfully. There was no point in hiding it. She probably wouldn't recognize the name.

"What is your purpose here?"

Legolas pondered this for a moment. "I have no idea," he said finally.


Andromache opened her eyes. Her face felt stiff and dry. She was caked with salt and lying on hot sand. Balian stood with his back facing her, rocking Astyanax in his arms and humming softly. Some palm trees beside her shielded them from the sun. There was a tiny pond with scum on the surface, a couple of rocks and not much else except sand all around. The last thing she remembered was a storm on the sea, and a huge wave which had thrown her from the ship. Cassandra lay on her back, not yet awake. Slowly, Andromache sat up. "Balian," she said softly. He turned a regarded her with his liquid brown eyes. "Where are we?"

"I'm not absolutely certain," he said "but I can guess."

"Where?" repeated Andromache.

"Somewhere in the Holy Land, close to Jerusalem. I've been here before, I think, the first time I was shipwrecked."

"This is the Holy Land...?"

"I know." Balian smiled wryly. "Ridiculous, isn't it, why men are fighting over this."

"I'm just surprised," said Andromache. "What are we doing here? I mean, I know why you're here, but Cassandra, Astyanax, and me... we don't belong here."

"I suppose you and Astyanax are here because you two fell into the ocean, and I jumped in to save you, or tried to save you. I'm not sure how Cassandra ended up here with us. I guess I'll have to ask her when she wakes. It's lucky that there's an oasis here."

Astyanax decided that Balian's attention had been diverted for long enough. He reached up with a fat little hand, caught hold of some of the man's dark hair and yanked.

"Hey, little one, play nicely," protested Balian gently. Astyanax crooned.

Andromache watched the man play with her baby. He really would've made a wonderful father, if the fates had not been cruel enough to tear that chance from him. "Is he all right?" she asked.

"He's fine," said Balian. "I washed the salt off him. Babies have awfully delicate skin, and I have been told that it's absolutely necessary to keep them clean."

"I see why they call you Nanny Balian," said Andromache with a smile.

"No you don't," said Balian quickly. "Christ! I have done nothing to warrant such name-calling."

"No, that's right. You don't deserve it. You are a nothing like a nanny, Balian." Andromache chuckled to herself as she brushed the scum off the surface of the pond and took a drink. Men were just like children. Her Hector had been no exception. "Do you have something to store water with, Balian?" she asked after she had finished. "I don't suppose we are staying here, and we will need water for our journey to wherever it is that you want to take us."

Balian handed Astyanax to his mother. "I have a leather flask," he said "but it's not big." He unhooked it from his belt and filled it.

"Where are we?" It seemed that Cassandra had finally woken up. "Balian! Andromache! Thank goodness you're both all right!"

"How did you get here?" said Andromache.

"I jumped in after you," said Cassandra, looking slightly embarrassed. "So where are we?"

"We're in Balian's world, Cassandra," said Andromache.

"This is Ibelin?" asked Cassandra incredulously. She looked around her, but she could see nothing save for endless stretches of yellow desert and an empty blue sky. "I thought it would be a little less...sandy."

"No, this is the desert," said Balian. "Ibelin is quite far away." He glanced up. "If I remember correctly, Jerusalem is rather close. It may be under Muslim control, but I don't think they'll hassle us. Salah-al-Din is an honourable man."

They waited until dusk before setting off. From his previous experience, Balian knew that it was better to travel at night while in the desert. After two hours of walking, however, the women were exhausted. They were hungry and not used to travelling so much. Balian allowed them to rest for a while before continuing on their journey. His sweat soaked shirt was cooling rapidly in the cold of the desert night. Andromache shielded Astyanax from the wind as best she could, all the while shivering violently. Balian hesitated, it seemed so inappropriate, but he did not want anyone to catch their death of cold. Awkwardly, he reached out for both Andromache and Cassandra. "It'll be warmer this way," he said. Cassandra gladly snuggled up to him.


Balian hadn't meant to fall asleep. He opened his heavy eyes. It was morning, and it was beginning to get hot. On a sand dune in the near distance was a lone rider. He called out in Arabic. The words were indistinct and Balian's inexperienced ear could not interpret them. He stood up, hoping that the rider did not perceive him as a threat. The rider urged his horse into a gallop and neared them.

"What business do you have on my master's land?" he demanded in accented French.

Balian would recognize that man anywhere. "Imad?" he said. "Thank God!"

Imad's eyes widened as he recognized his Frankish friend. "Allahu akbar!" he cried. "Balian! You're alive! We all thought you'd died in that shipwreck. God really must love you." He glanced down at Andromache, Cassandra and baby Astyanax, and then back at Balian. "You have been productive, my friend," he said with a grin.

"I beg your pardon?" said Balian, looking confused. Was he too tired and hearing Imad wrongly? "What are you talking about?"

"The ladies, they are your wives, no?"

"No!" protested Balian. "They are my friend's wives, I mean, wife and sister..."

Imad frowned. "And what are you doing with your friend's wife and sister, Balian?" he asked. Many Franks had loose morals, but he had not thought that Balian was one of those, even though the Frankish knight had had a not–so-subtle affair with the former queen of Jerusalem.

Andromache decided to speak before the misunderstanding went too far. Balian, she had found, was not a very prolific speaker, being a man of action rather than words. If she let him explain, he would probably make his friend even more confused. "I am a widow," she said "and in Balian's care." It was true enough. Hector wasn't exactly in the world of the living at the moment. "My husband entrusted us to him. He is our protector and friend, nothing more."

"That is much more comprehensible," said Imad. "Trust Balian to make such an honourable thing sound like a scandal."

"I'm tired," protested Balian, grinning.

Imad dismounted. "My ladies, it is only proper that you ride," he said. "We men can walk. Jerusalem is near."

Balian cupped his hands and stood beside the horse so that Andromache and Cassandra could use him as a sort of step to get onto the animal. Imad held Astyanax as Andromache mounted. "A strong boy," he said, handing the baby back to its mother once she was securely seated in the saddle.

"He is like his father," said Andromache proudly, cradling Astyanax lovingly in her arms.

"Speaking of sons and fathers," said Imad "I have something to discuss with you, Balian."

"What is it?" asked Balian. All that was on his mind at the moment was a drink of cool clean water, some food and then maybe a long nap on a soft mattress.

"Sibylla gave birth to a son almost two years ago. She claims he is yours."


Will was certain that he was in a nightmare. First, the Black Pearl had been sucked down into dark watery depths by a whirlpool. Now, she was once again stuck. Instead of a high barren island, this time it was a tiny pond in a quaint little village with tiny cottages and grassy mounds that had windows and doors.

"What the bloody hell is going on?' demanded Jack as he pushed Ragetti and Pintel off him. "Where are we? How did we get here? Why is the rum always gone?"

No, this was worse than Will's most terrible nightmare. He was stuck in a tiny pond on board the Black Pearl with Jack Sparrow and no rum...

"Where be my gun?"

...and Barbossa...

"Where's Balian...and Legolas and Andromache? Where's Cassandra? Oh Apollo save us! Where's Astyanax?!"

...without his two most sensible friends to help him deal with this antagonistic rabble of pirates and princes. Will climbed to the crow's nest where he could have a little quiet to help him think. He put his spyglass to his eye. Nothing looked familiar. He could see the faint outlines of snow-covered mountains in the distance. Will hadn't seen such mountains before, apart from in paintings. He hadn't seen much snow before either. As a child in England, he'd lived in a place where there hadn't been much snowing. Usually it was raining.

He pulled himself back to the present. Where were they? By now, the inhabitants of this queer little place were coming out to investigate. They did not seem pleased to see a barnacle encrusted seagoing ship in their pond. And they were small, about half the size of a full grown man. They were advancing on the Black Pearl with miniature pitchforks, shovels, and scythes.

"This don't look good," said Pintel. Beside him, Achilles' hand strayed to the hilt of his sword.

"Wait!" called Will from the crow's nest. "We don't need any bloodshed. These, uh, people have nothing against us. I do not believe us if we explain why we're here."

"So why are we here?" said Paris.

"I have no idea," said Will "but it must be the will of some deity or another."

"Pardon me, whelp, but I don't think they'll buy that," said Jack.

Will climbed down from the crow's nest. The little being in the lead suddenly stopped. His eyes widened in delighted surprise. "Balian?" he said in a high, almost childlike voice.

"Oh, good; he thinks you're Balian," said Jack. "It seems that the nanny is well-known and well-loved."

"I'm not Balian," said Will "but I do know him."

"Oh." The little being's hostile expression was back. "How can we prove that you're Balian's friend?"

"Well, he is a good man..." began Will. "He lost his wife and child, and Legolas calls him Nanny Balian. He hates it."

"You know Legolas too?" said the little being.

"Sure do," said Jack. "Tall skinny fella who glows in the dark? Of course we know 'im."

"You could be their enemies for all I know," challenged the little being.

"I don't think that Master Balian would be lettin' his enemies know that he can't hold his drink," drawled Barbossa.

"And he's always fine despite the fact he isn't," added Paris.

"And wounds always look worse than they feel," finished Will.

"That sounds like Balian," said the little being, smiling as he recalled fond memories. "Well, since you're his friends, you're my friends too. Welcome to the Shire. My name is Meriadoc Brandybuck, and I'm a hobbit. We're all hobbits."

On seeing that their leader had addressed the strangers as friends, the other hobbits lowered their weapons, muttering amongst themselves. They did not trust the Big Folk, especially not ones who appear mysteriously in the communal pond in a big ship with black sails flying a flag which had a skull on it.

Barbossa and Will lowered the gangplank and all of them got off the ship, although Jack lingered at the helm of his beloved Pearl.

There were murmurs as the hobbits saw Barbossa's monkey.

"What's that?" said Meriadoc.

"That, Mr. Brandybuck, is a monkey," said Will.

"Just Merry will be fine," said the hobbit. " 'Mr.' Makes me feel old."

"Mary?" said Jack. "That's me mum's name."

Merry scowled. He didn't appreciate being compared to someone's mother. Balian really did have an odd choice of friends. He didn't mind Will, who was civilized, but the other one with black paint around his eyes, he was not so sure about.

"Jack, can you please act like a civilized, mature and sober adult for once in your life?" said Will with an almost pleading tone in his voice.

"I don't like any of those words," said Jack. "Especially not the last adjective." But he kept quiet after that.

The newcomers introduced themselves. Merry thought they were a strange bunch, and he'd seen some pretty strange things in his life, Pippin being one of them. He decided that he liked Will Turner and Jack the monkey. He did not know what to make of Paris, who was perpetually scowling at the big tawny man called Achilles. The hobbit liked the ladies too. None of them could be compared with Lady Éowyn, but they at least did not curse of make obscene gestures. He could ill imagine Balian and Legolas being friends with Captain Jack Sparrow and Barbossa.

Since they were all too big to fit inside a hobbit hole—Frodo's to be precise—Will suggested that all the humans, and the monkey, should sleep on the ship. Merry agreed. It was a good idea and many of Hobbiton's inhabitants were uncomfortable about the Big Folk's presence. Merry knew that they could not stay in the Shire for long. Together with Sam, Frodo, and Pippin, he decided to take them to Gondor. Aragorn would be glad to know that Legolas and Balian were alive, and the High King would definitely know what to do about the newcomers.


A/N: Here's the first chapter. They will all eventually end up in Middle Earth; they just all have some potentially problematic situations to deal with. Reviews please? Hope everyone had a great New Year and holiday season.