Sequel 8

Eleanor's POV

We boarded our ship in early spring, don't ask me of which year, and even though we had been warned about metal ships, those that had not come from our world found them very strange.

I am pretty sure they all (bar Gil-galad) found it weird that we found calling the ship the Black Pearl, then doing Jack Sparrow impressions was highly amusing and insisting on doing those impressions frequently.

I am sure my father thought I had gone slight mad, but gave up on commenting when I convinced my children and nephews as well as Gil-galad to join us and we taught them more impressions from films.

The trip back was about three weeks long I think and we filled our time with silly impressions and loosening up the more done-up elves.

Eventually we dock in Bristol City Harbour, a small leisure harbour six miles inland on the western side of England, just beneath Wales, which is the other side of the river we had to go up to get there.

Ginny likes the choice of harbour because it is relatively close to her original home in Taunton, Somerset.

The big house that has been arranged for us (complete with gardener, house keeper, and the other things we need to keep the house up while running around on our mission) is near Bristol, in a good clean neighbourhood, but as it is patently a conservative area, you can justify one of those little golf carts to get to the house next door.

The first funny thing when we arrive is that, through the door, we have got lots of election literature.

We look at the date for this election on the internet and then at the actual date. Ginny and I have to laugh.

We have arrived in England shortly before we were nicked from Australia by Legolas and Adindel. We would probably have lots of fun watching the news people go nuts over two English girls disappearing in the Australian outback.

We then have to spend time explaining to the elves about voting as, due to the way the Valar arranged it, we all have the vote.

This results in us sitting down and swatting up on the main parties, not to mention having a laugh by looking up the Monster Raving Loony Party website.

If you are wondering, Ginny and I vote as a matter of principle and we were going to get our elfin friends and family to vote as well. What would be interesting was that, by upbringing, Ginny is a Labour supporter and I was always a cynical little Tory along with my adopted parents.

It was a good job we didn't have a timeline to rush along because that was a start that suggested we would be taking our time.

For the first few weeks, we always made sure that none of the elves were out of the company of either Ginny or I.

We slowly let them out on their own to do small things then larger as they got used to the new world they had been dropped in.

Only when we are fairly sure that the elves are at least mostly acclimatised do we start searching for the elves we have been sent to retrieve.

As we do, the news about the disappearance of Ginny and I in Australia comes up, I have to admit that Ginny and I start to drive our companions mad by our morbid and slightly obsessive gathering of virtually every piece news on our own disappearance. I don't think they understand why we found it so interesting.

But we mustn't lose track of why we're here – our first start was to visit our good friend Google.

It took surprisingly little time for us to find a hit that is useful.

It appears that the elfin rulers cannot fall into total obscurity.

They have set up businesses, which work closely with each other, that are very rich. They try to stay out of photo's and being rich it is not hard, but a combination of Google and the hacking/computer skills my brother had taught me in my teens meant that we could dig out a good enough picture to identify the elves in question.

In fact we found pictures of Celeborn, Thanduil, and Adindel with surprising ease.

Celeborn has the new imaginative name of Caleb, Thanduil now is Aaron (amusing as 'Aran' means 'king' in Sindarin) and Adindel is now Alistair. I have to admit I approve of that last name as one of my adopted brothers had that name too.

All three have maintained their long hair, but now wear it tied back in such a way as to hide their ears; they don't have the magic to hide their race like we do.

The next problem is the plan for how to get them and then convince them to join us in Valinor.

As we research further we find that there is a little side business which is obviously more in the nature of a hobby than a specifically money making enterprise.

The business is one to do with re-enactment, primarily medieval re-enactment

They clearly still harkened after the old days.

Perfect.

The next trick was to get to them through this medieval thing of theirs.

That was made easier through the fact we had all brought some stuff from Valinor, including all our weapons which was a sizable collection, larger than what many museums would have by some way.

We have great fun setting up our armoury in one of the larger rooms in the house.

Anyway.

The main company is in Europe, but there is a branch working in England as there is a serious interest in re-enactment in a country with so many castles and things.

First we contact the English manager, a young man called Michael who is very charming in a way that reminds both me and Ginny of Amrothos.

Once we actually meet the guy he also looks disturbingly like Amrothos too. We put this down to coincidence; it has been several thousand years after all.

He is very charming in real life as well and has those nice manners down to perfection.

If you are wondering, when we go visit him to talk medieval stuff, only Ginny and I go for the first visit.

It is not so much a business, but a society and all things the members pay for are simply so the thing does not make a loss.

They society provides accurate things for all the members and also sets up weekends, which vary in style to cater for all people, from the dabblers to the diehard re-enactors who would happily go spend weeks living as medieval people.

Michael seems quite taken with us; well we do look like two very rich twenty year old women who share his interests. I notice that he shares his charms equally at this point, though looks a bit disappointed when I mention I am married. I don't mention I have two fully grown children as no one is that well preserved.

As we show great interest in medieval weaponry he asks if we would like to see his collection. We agree enthusiastically.

In his own personal armoury he shows us one section which contains company replicas as well as a few he commissioned himself and then points out another section specially made to protect his originals, which he had inherited.

He also has a training area, complete with a rather beaten up padded dummy.

Upon my request he lets me use his 'pointy stick' as I still call it.

Apparently they have drawings and other pictorial evidence of this weapon and though it is far from popular, partly because it is so hard to use, he still has one.

I thoroughly enjoy his look of surprise when I do not need any help from him to show me how to use it and then even more surprised when Ginny uses another of his replica weapons to have a serious duel in which we show that neither of us are helpless little girls.

I think that at that point he ceased to see us as just pretty and rich potential members.

Score one for us.

Then he shows us those family heirlooms of his.

Ginny and I have the hardest time not to show what we really think of his heirloom weapon collection.

Though there are some things we don't recognise, we do recognise the pretty glittery chainmail, several of the swords, and a few other weapons...

Oops.

Ginny's POV

As soon as our ship is built and the hold filled with supplies, we board and leave.

I resist the urge to ask exactly how the journey is worked out – my head's in a spin just contemplating it.

The journey takes three weeks, but luckily the Valar provided us with everything we thought we would need to make the journey more bearable.

This includes a huge collection of DVDs; once everyone else has worked out how to use the TV and DVD player, there's an almost constant showing of every kind of film imaginable.

Strangely though, not many of the elves seem all that keen on watching things like 'Silence of the Lambs' of course that may have something to do with some of the more sexually explicit content rather than any horror contained therein.

This doesn't stop Ellie and I from jumping out at people and doing Dr. Hannibal's tongue thing – scares them all silly.

Of course the impressions don't stop there – you have no idea how entertaining charades can be when elves are playing, especially if they try to do someone they've only seen once in a film. One of my favourites to do is a Captain Jack Sparrow impersonation – I stand on the mast on one of the little life boats (we had to find a use for them somehow) in a pirate outfit (films do get just a tiny bit boring) and look as though I'm staring into the distance.

After the first time I try this, Elladan, Elrohir, and Gil-galad insist on joining me. Naturally we can't all fit on the mast – even elves aren't that light. So we stand two-by-two either side of the mast staring at the horizon.

After that time everyone insists on joining us – Turgon took a bit of persuading, but Ellie gave him her puppy-dog eyes and he relented.

The image created is so good that we recreate it and take a photo. I wonder what everyone will say when we show them that picture – 13 high-ranking elves all standing around in two lifeboats dressed in Jack Sparrow outfits with two more (Gil-galad and I) standing on the masts – what a bunch of weirdoes, probably.

We eventually dock in Bristol City Harbour – a choice I much approve of as I was always proud of my West Country roots.

The house we're to live in is absolutely MASSIVE. It's more of a mansion really – well it does require at least twelve main bedrooms plus guest ones, all ensuites (would you want to share a house with fourteen others and only have one bathroom and toilet?).

As well as the main drawing room, parlour, etc – each main bedroom also has its own sitting room – even in this enlightened age, elfin sensibilities still shine through.

The back of the house opens out on to a huge landscape-garden; at the front is a winding, gravelled drive which ends at the garages.

I concentrate on what is housed in the garages while Ellie explains the ins and outs of the British voting system – she is after all the Politics graduate of the group.

We have been given two convertibles for nipping around in and two mini-buses for when we all go somewhere. I then fall on my knees with wonder and delight at the sight of a brand new Yamaha motorbike; I put my hands together as if in prayer and whisper 'thank you!'.

I'm gone for the rest of the day. I do offer everyone a ride on my bike, but they take one look at it and decline rather quickly – spoilsports.

Ellie and I spend the first few weeks acclimatising everyone to our world.

This makes for rather amusing mornings in the first week as we have to continually stop and search everyone for any weapon larger than a small dirk.

"Any policeman worth his salt would arrest you on sight if you began swinging this around." becomes one of the more common phrases.

Little differences concerning permitted weaponry aside, everyone acclimatises rather well.

This means we can begin the search for our 'victims' (we have been given permission to use 'any means necessary' to get them to go back to Valinor, including the threat of fading).

The internet is both a blessing and a curse – blessing because it cuts down research time like nobody's business, but it also means that any news website we go on, Ellie and I confronted by our own faces.

We arrived back just before we were taken from Australia; before long, Ellie and I become the main news story – I mean how many times do two British students go missing (camp and all) without a trace? There is usually some kind of clue, but not in our case.

The only bits I can't look at are interviews done with our parents – it brings it all home – the tears, the pain, the not knowing. I've known grief, but at least I knew what had happened to my loved ones.

Anyway...

We find our victims surprisingly quickly – even the heads of major, international businesses can't hide away all the time, especially when Ellie's hacking skill are utilised.

It's kind of weird to see Thanduil, Adindel, and Celeborn in suits and ties – they look rather charming actually.

Despite their modernity, all three still clearly remember the old days and old ways – they're involved in a medieval re-enactment society. I bet they were in their element when the medieval period was in full flow.

My own parents were involved in re-enactments of the English Civil War, but I never liked it myself – was never one for camping. However, I rather like the sound of this medieval business – the dresses are far prettier and flowier, not to mention going excellently with our long hair.

I'm not shallow.

Honest.

First things first, we contact the English manager of the re-enactment society and arrange a meeting. I suppose we could have just by-passed that and found them all ourselves, but we did really need someone 'on the inside' as it were – would have made a rather dramatic reunion though!

When we meet the manager, he instantly reminds me of Amrothos. Can't think why though, maybe it's because he's also got dark hair, pale eyes, and is about the same age that Amrothos was when we first met.

Michael is charmingly enthusiastic about the re-enactments, becoming even more so when he realises that Ellie and I also share a passion for history, especially when we reveal that our passion extends to weaponry as well as pretty dresses.

We're immediately taken to Michael's private armoury where he begins to show us around.

"It's one of the biggest private collections in the country," he informs us proudly.

Ellie and I exchange amused looks – not by a long way, mate.

Michael looks a little nonplussed when Ellie shows great skill with a replica of her pointy stick thing, but it's only when I challenge Ellie to a duel using another of Michael's replicas that his eyes practically pop out of his head.

Afterward, Michael's attitude to us changes, it's still absolutely charming, but is now tinged with what appears to be respect. Now whether that's out of fear or genuine feeling I don't know.

Score one for us.

Michael then takes us to see the section is his collection which contains originals, many of which he inherited.

Ellie and I stop dead, staring at all the weapons hung about the walls; they seem to focus on a shirt of pale, glittery chainmail.

We stand in absolute silence, our eyes steadily taking in every detail.

The realisation dawns – I don't just recognise them, I remember them for they are the exact same ones I left my sons before I knew I could go Valinor.

As Michael turns to face us I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth – I am staring into the face of one of my descendants.