Chapter Two
Greagoir Daibhidh Cearbhall

"Ducky," Jenny says as they reach him, speaks firmly before he can, "five words or less! Is he alive?"

Ducky's visage grows grimmer. "He's alive. And he'll live."

Satisfied with this hopeful prognosis, they're ready to endure a lengthy explanation.

"However," Ducky stresses, shattering their relief, "the trauma of striking his head on that block of concrete has produced an unexpected neurological disruption. We are not completely–"

"Ducky!" Maybe she is not ready after all.

He regards her with strained patience but some of his tension slips through his polite exterior, "I'm trying to prepare you for something you will find greatly disturbing." He quickly reasserts control, forces the stress in his voice down, addresses them calmly. "Physically he could get up and leave here as early as this afternoon, there is relatively little trauma to his body. But the impact upon his head caused disruption to his brain."

He gives them a few moments to absorb that.

"What sort of disruption?"

"We still have not been able to assess the extent of the damage, and I believe it will take many hours to do so. You can see him, but I doubt that he will recognize you. He did not recognize me - not exactly - and my mention of NCIS produced only a blank stare."

"Amnesia?" Gibbs guesses. He's had amnesia, he'd recovered. McGee can.

Ducky shakes his head. "No, Jethro, that would actually be preferable. I'm sorry, I had to prepare you. Whatever happens, whatever he says or does, please remain calm. He must not be agitated."

"We understand, Ducky," Jenny assures him. She's had enough preliminaries. "But please let us in now."

Ducky doesn't refuse. There is little more he can say that can adequately prepare them for the distress that awaits them.

x

When they enter accompanied by the Nurse, McGee lies upon a bed directly across the room. He wears a blue hospital gown that covers him only forward and above the knees. There's a middle-aged man to their left wearing a white lab coat, but it's their friend that holds their attention. Except for a band of gauze wrapped several times horizontally about his head, he appears normal.

"This is Dr. Jon Sullivan, Timothy's Neurologist," Ducky says softly to Shepherd and Gibbs, but the introductions are cut short. At his words McGee opens his eyes and turns to them. They're startled that an instant later he's out of the bed. Two steps it takes to cross the room and he drops to his right knee before them.

"Your Majesties, I am honored by your visit," he looks up at them, focusing on the startled Shepherd, "I kiss your feet, O Gracious Lady Sovereign."

As he bends low to do exactly that Jennifer is about to back away when she catches Ducky's warning look and recalls his admonition; 'Whatever happens, whatever he says or does, please remain calm, he must not be agitated.'

Vastly uncomfortable, she holds still as he kisses each of her shoes and then straightens, still on his right knee, his body ramrod erect. Head up, his manner is noble even in subservience. "May I know the reason why I am here again, how and why I have been returned while performing so vital a Quest for your Majesties' sake? We had made such great progress, only for I to find myself here attended by your Court Physicians. Why have you summoned me back with your Quest so neigh complete?"

Though he addresses both of them, it is to Gibbs that he looks and the Agent has no idea how to answer. He glances at Ducky who gives him a helpless shrug. He sees that Ducky has his cell phone out and is filming this; it just might work provided the doohah in the thingy holds out long enough.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Perhaps this will provide a clue.

"I and Muirne had defeated a force of fifty men before the castle of Cormac Ciardha Dubhshlaine, sustaining several wounds in fierce battle when I found myself here. Why, my Liege?"

Gibbs wishes he knew, but if McGee had indeed fought fifty men alongside this 'Muirne' he's not surprised they sustained several wounds. This may well have provided a clue. If in his mind Tim sees him as his King, Gibbs will just take their real relationship and expand it a hundred fold.

x

"You Dare to question your King?" he demands with supreme haughtiness. "Who are you that you dare put Us to the question?"

"Forgive me, Sire; I mean no disre–."

"Who are you?" Gibbs' demand thunders through the room, startling everyone except Tim who, still on one knee, takes the force as to be expected from the king.

"I am Greagoir Daibhidh Cearbhall, Lord of the Elves that reside beyond the river Tygren in the land of Dubhrein, who has answered your Majesties' Summons for aid."

x

"And who am I?"

The question confuses Tim. "Sire?"

"You were injured, I want to make sure you still know who everyone is and what you're doing here for me."

"You are Tighearna Conri Anrai, High King of the race of Men."

"And this is?" he indicates Shepherd standing beside him. He can see she's trying not to look like she's holding her breath.

"Brigid Ailish Filelma; Most Gracious Queen of all Men and your Consort these many long seasons."

"And him?" He indicates Ducky who is filming the exchange.

"He is Fearchar Ceallachan Grada, your Court Physician."

"And him?" He indicates Jon Sullivan.

"I know him not."

"He's your Neurologist." Tim looks up at him blankly. "What about her?"

McGee looks at the woman in white standing by the door. "I know her not, Sire."

"Never mind. We will return shortly. Until we do, you will not attempt to leave this room."

"You yourself charged me to the Quest, Sire. I have until the darkening of the moon."

"And then?"

Tim is shocked to be asked this. "He will ravage her!"

"Who will ravage who?" It's hard to keep this demand short of a shout.

If Tim was shocked before, he's now doubly so. "Cormac Ciardha Dubhshlaine will desecrate the Princess Mairenn Ceibhfhionn Ciorsdan, your daughter, at midnight on the night of the dark moon if you do not hand over the kingdom to him. If he will not be given the kingdom, he will take control of it as Regent of your male heir. After a Legion of men were defeated attempting to storm his castle, you summoned me because I and Muirne Cainneach Sorcha alone possess the swordskill to enter the Dark Lord's castle to rescue her." He looks about, as though suddenly remembering something. "Where is Muirne, Sire?"

Gibbs doesn't know. He cannot even tell from the odd name who Muirne is, if it a man or a woman or what he or she was doing. "You will wait here. You will not leave."

"By your command, Sire."

xx

"That's not McGee," Jenny declares as soon as the door is shut, leaving Tim with the Doctor and Nurse. "The way he stands - I mean kneels - the way he moves, his speech, his accent, his almost arrogant confidence even in subservience..."

"No," Ducky agrees, "that is not Timothy. That is Greagoir Daibhidh Cearbhall, the Elf Lord."

Those words hit Gibbs hard. How many times has he...? "He didn't know Sullivan," he points out.

"Nor did he know Nurse Matthews. They don't exist in his world, at least not yet. They may become integrated into his psyche, but not now, not yet."

"He doesn't know Neurologists either, yet McGee knows exactly what they are."

"I'm afraid, right now, that there is no 'Timothy McGee'."

"There's a McGee all right," Gibbs declares, striding away down the hall, "and I'm going in after him."