"Creoso a' Imladris, Estel. lle ier il rmed'ha,"(Welcome to Imladris, Estel. It is good to see you unharmed.) A tall man with long, dark hair said as he, along with what looked like his twin, descended a grand staircase. But, as with the elven woman, a quick glance towards their ears revealed that the twins weren't human. Their unnatural and fluid grace was also a dead give-away.

"Quel re, Elrohir ar' Elladan,"(Good day, Elrohir and Elladan,) Strider replied with a simple bow of his head, before pulling the two into a brotherly hug. He pulled away before turning to the rest of them and continuing, "Lotesse amin anna Meriadoc Brandybuck, Samwise Gamgee ar' Peregrin Took en' i' Shire. Ar' Frank Castle ar' Shroud, en' a ndor il neva tuulo' sinome."(May I present Meriadoc Brandybuck, Samwise Gamgee and Peregrin Took of the Shire. And Frank Castle and Shroud, of a land not near here.) The two brothers smiled warmly bowing their heads as they did so.

"Come friends," the twins said in unison as they gestured towards the staircase with their hands. Kitty Pryde shrugged as she stepped forward, hoping to at least find somewhere halfways comfortable to sleep. And looking around, she thought as she ascended the staircase, It's probably going to be the best place I've slept in for the past year or two.

"Where's Frodo?" Sam asked one of the twins as he followed Kitty up the stairs. "Did he make it here? Can I see him?" Kitty listened with half a mind as Sam pestered the twins with a series of questions, most of which where answered curtly. She simply came to the top of the stair case and admired the full view. It was if someone had taken a postcard and made it into a reality.

On the far side of the valley there was a rushing waterfall, that fed into a beautiful sparkling lake. Mountains loomed all around, yet they didn't cast any foreboding shadow. Instead they offered a semblance of security and stability, as did the stone pillars of the city. She ran her hand across one of these pillars, finding that it was as smooth as glass to her touch.

"So you got sent here too, huh?" a voice said from behind, causing Kitty to whirl around to face the speaker. She immediately lost her smile as she saw that it was the Spider-man impersonator. Only, he was without his hero garb. Instead he was wearing the same clothes she had seen him in the night of the silent vigil. And since those where jeans and a leather jacket, she was still not impressed. "You meet up with any-"

"Punisher," she grunted as she continued to study him. From head to toe, she took it all in. She could see the inherent inability to remain still, so apart of her wondered if that was his spider-sense. Or if both of them happened to be very energetic. "Is here," she finished as she crossed her arms.

"Good," the imposter replied as he mimicked her stance. "Someone for you to hate for no reason even more than me." At this statement, Kitty clenched her hands into fists, seriously considering sending the little punk's head into a pillar. Who does he think he is? She thought tersely as she spun around again, and walked away, before she did something she would regret. Walking at a brisk pace, she speed around corner after corner, until she nearly ran into someone.

"Oh my goodness!" the tiny being, who Kitty took to be one of the hobbits at first glance, said as he dropped the book he had been carrying. Quickly, Kitty moved to pick it up off the ground, even as the hobbit, who she now realized was much older than Frodo, Sam, Merry or Pippin, fussed around. "Oh my goodness! I am so very sorry, my lady! Very sorry indeed! I was not watching where I was going I-"

"It's fine," Kitty replied as she handed him the book he had dropped. She took note of the red leather binding, and intricate letters on the cover as the small hands removed it from her grasp. "I wasn't looking where I was going, either, sir." The older hobbit smiled up at her as he gingerly reached for her elbow.

"My dear," The old hobbit said with sincerity, "no one as fair as you should say that you are sorry." Most people would assume this was the right thing to say. But to Kitty Pryde, it served as only a reminder of a memory, one that came to her as clear as glass.

"Whoops!" she had said as her foot caught on a branch, causing her to fall forward. Luckily, an arm reached out and stopped her progress. His arm, in fact.

"Watch your step," Peter Parker had smiled as he helped her to her feet. They where in Central Park. Peter had just gotten out of school, and they where enjoying some alone time, away from the rest of the world. And she began to enjoy it even more as he planted a swift kiss on her cheek. "Though I don't mind it when a pretty girl falls for me."

"Shut up you," she had replied as she gave him a playful push back, which caused him to fall over mockingly. She was pulled down with him, and together, they rolled in the fall leaves, laughing and smiling as they did so.

"Are you feeling ill?" the old hobbit asked, cutting the pleasant memory short, and forcing Kitty to return to the present. She blinked twice, not fully understanding what the hobbit had asked, or if he was even talking to her specifically. "You look unwell, Miss-"

"Mr Bilbo!" Sam's voice cut in from behind, as the round hobbit rushed past. He was accompanied by Merry and Pippin.. All three of the hobbits had discarded their bags, and seemed very excited to see the older hobbit, who Sam had called 'Mr Bilbo.' Kitty wondered if it was the same Bilbo Sam had mentioned that night on the tower of Amun Sul. Given the younger hobbit's revering combined with the book in his hand, she assumed he was. "When did you get here?"

"Samwise Gamgee," Mr Bilbo replied with a warm smile as he clasped his hand around the fat hobbit's shoulder. "It is good to see you again. And you, masters Merry and Pippin," he continued as he shook their hands.

"Mr Bilbo," Pippin piped up as he tugged at Kitty's arm. "Have you met Miss Shroud?" He asked as he glanced from the old hobbit too Kitty, then back again, smiling as he did so.

"Only just," Bilbo replied warmly as he motioned to a bench, and took a seat.

"She saved Mr Frodo, she did," Pippin said with a hint of excitement as he took a seat next to the old hobbit.

"She did!" Bilbo exclaimed as he looked at Kitty, "well then, you have my thanks, Miss Shroud. For saving my Nephew's life. You really must-"

"She fought off those nasty black riders," Pippin interrupted as he rapped his hands against the stone bench, reminding Kitty of a child sitting on the lap of a mall Santa. As did his expression.

"Don't go changing the story, Pip," Merry chimed in as he sat on Bilbo's other side. "That was Strider who did that," he continued as Sam looked around nervously. "She barely took on one!"

"Well hey now," Kitty said mockingly, "how many did you handle?"

"I...well," Merry began, as he stuttered, and Pippin smiled as Sam finally spoke.

"Mr Bilbo, have you seen Mr Frodo?" Sam asked, with a worried tone of voice.


"Good," Miles snorted as he continued to gaze at the brunette mutant. "Someone else for you to hate for no reason more than me." What did I ever do to her? He wondered as he watched her walk away in a huff, leaving Miles to his own devices and thoughts. Aside from her apparent loathing of him, he had no issue with her. It seemed it was the other way around only, and it was something he was determined to solve. It's not like I'm one of those humanity-first nuts, he thought silently as he slipped back between pillars. I've never made any sort of Anti-mutant comment, he continued as he passed by the twins Elves and towards the main courtyard. A small group of elves where gathered around a table, enjoying a quiet meal, and Miles joined them, relishing in the merriment of the moment.

Miles noted the fact that the elves quickly switched to English once they noticed him, and he was great-full for that. He had been spending his free time learning as much as he could in their language, but he was still in the very early stages. He barely grasped the basic grammar skills, let alone intricate poems and stories like they where sharing.

"Care to share a tale, Master Morales?" an elf with black hair asked as he patted Miles on the shoulder. It had gotten a little bit odd for them to keep calling him 'Edan en' Liante,' so he eventually told them his real name, figuring that it was extremely unlikely that they could tell anyone in New York. After all, he had threatened to beat them senseless if they did.

"Umm..." He muttered, as he searched for an appropriate story to tell. One that he could properly convey with words, and could recall completely. Which narrowed the story list down considerably.

"Come!" another elf piped up, "tell us a tale of your predecessor! The one you revere so much!"

"Ummm..." Miles muttered, unsure of himself. He had never actually met Peter Parker, only some of his close friends and family. And as such, most of the stories he knew where diluted by being second-hand at best. "I'll...I'll try..." he said with slightly more confidence. "I...I wasn't there personally, but I heard this one from...any ways...It was the middle of the day, in the centre of the city. There was a very dangerous man running around, hurting people. He was wearing very strong armour, and it seemed that no one could hurt him-"

"Was there no weakness?" an elf asked from across the table. "Why would the guards simply not use a longbow?"

"They...they didn't have any," Miles replied, not wanting to explain the concept of firearms, as that could take hours. "Anyway...Peter Parker arrived on the scene, and stood between the armoured man and some people, who would have been hurt otherwise. He engaged the man in unarmed combat, swiftly defeating him by removing his-" Miles was interrupted by a rush of sound, as a small crowd rushed past. The most notable of the group was the blue-furred mutant Miles remembered being there on the night everything had happened. Next to him was a female elf with long, golden hair, who was muttering to herself.

In the centre of the group was a man with thick steel armour, with another man over his shoulder. The second man was completely out cold, but Miles immediately knew who he was, form the shield that was currently in the hands of one of the elf twins, who was also shouting in elvish.

"Atar! Estel! Mithrandir!"(Father! Estel! (literally 'hope') Mithrandir!) Elladan shouted as they rushed past, and Miles got to his feet, running after them. "A edan engwar yassen i' mor suula, ro ened tua!"(A man ill with the black breath, he needs help!) The elf continued as Miles saw the elf lord Elrond rush down a series of steps, accompanied by a man with a long grey beard, and another, with shorter black scruff. But Miles paid them little attention, instead focusing on the unconscious Captain America, who was promptly laid down on a table.

"Sut an ro ve' sina?"(How long has he been this way?) the man with the shorter black beard asked as he ran his hands over Captain America.

"Lye nd'fi ho sina men atta re wanwie,"(We found him like this two days ago,) the golden-haired elf replied as she ceased her muttering. "Ro yassen Boromir iire ru'th," she continued as she moved to be at the black-bearded man's side.

"Are you sure it is the black breath?" the black-bearded man asked the man with the heavy armour, who grunted. "You saw one of the Nazgûl for certain?"

"I didn't," the man who Miles assumed was 'Boromir' replied with a shrug. "It was dark, and the two of us where attacked at our camp. I engaged five orcs who flanked our south, while Steve covered the north side of the camp. Before I knew it, I heard a terrible scream, and saw Steve on the ground. A man with a bright blue sword was fighting an unseen enemy, and drove him off. He was the one who told me it was the black breath."

"What was his name?" the black-bearded man snapped, "what did he look like?"

"I did not see his face," Boromir replied, "he wore a helmet. But he said that his name was Liante Edan. And that here was the best place for him."

"What happened to him?" Miles asked impatiently, simultaneously earning the attention of the blue-furred mutant. Miles bore to much reverence for the Captain to just sit by without answers. And he knew a lot of people would be in the same position as him. So he remained where he was.

"He's suffering from a Nazgûl attack," the man with a the grey long beard said.

"Yes," the black-bearded man said as he looked up, at the twins, "I need the Atheleas plant now!"


Kurt Wagner sat down, in order for him to be able to catch his breath. He and Menel had ridden from Caras Galadhon over the past week, only to come across two lost travellers, one of whom was both Captain America and extremely sick. Menel had insisted that they not sleep until they get the injured Captain to Rivendell, and until now, Kurt didn't understand why. The expressions on everybody's faces told him just how serious the injury was.

But now the patriot's health was out of his hands, and into those who where more capable. Now, he was given the opportunity to gather his surroundings, including the young man standing on the other side of the path, who was wearing jeans and a black jacket. Obviously, Kurt knew he was no elf. He recognized him from the night of the service, right before he had been transported into Middle-Earth.

"You," Kurt said as he snapped his fingers, signalling towards the young man. "You where there, weren't you?"

"I was," the man replied with an inclination of his head. "And you are?"

"Kurt Wagner," Kurt replied. Unlike most vigilantes, Kurt used his real name freely. It rarely changed people's perception of him. "But you may know me as the Nightcrawler."

"You're-" the young man began to say.

"A wanted terrorist?" Kurt smiled in return, "I am. And I'm one of the X-men...or I was, anyway. Is anyo-"

"Besides you, me and the Captain?" the young man said with a shrug. "That Shroud girl's here, still sulking and snapping at anyone who speaks. And apparently the Punisher is here as well," he finished as Kurt leaped to his feet.

"Then I have somewhere to be," Kurt replied as he turned down the stone path. He ascended a series of stairs before taking a sharp left. He knew to look for the most secluded spot, as that's where he knew Kitty would be. She's been anti-social, he thought as he turned right, ever since, well...the last four years she's gotten worse by the day. He thought as he rounded another corner, one that led to a dead end. Luckily, he was right about the secluded spot. "Kitty?" he said, tentatively.

"Nightcrawler," she replied coldly as she turned to face him. A subtle movement of her hands told him she was hiding something, and he knew what. He remembered the day she had come home from a date with Peter Parker, with a new necklace dangling around her neck. A year later, Bobby Drake had offered to take it to a pawn shop after Peter Parker had died, and earned a broken jaw in return. "Is Jean-"

"No," Kurt replied as he moved closer, but still kept some distance between them. "I thought she'd be here as well. But, this is a big continent," he said, doing his best to remain confident and cheerful. But the latter didn't do him any good, so he asked, "did you have any trouble getting here?"

"A little," she whispered softly.

"'A little?'" Kurt quipped, "what do you mean by 'a little?' I was ambushed by a pack of uglies with swords, how about you?" She didn't answer him. But that had more to do with the arrival of a man with a grey beard.

"Come," the man said as he beckoned to the two of them, "Lord Elrond has requested your presence. And the presence of your allies, in his private study."


"Welcome, strangers," Lord Elrond said with warm grace as Castle entered the book-lined room. He to his left stood the elf lord, along with the grey bearded man. To his right stood the blue-furred mutant and the new Spider-man. Away in the farthest corner stood Shroud, who was persistently glaring at him. Not that her wrath was undeserved. "It seems fate has forced you here," the elf said as he folded his arms across his chest, "and at a most peculiar time."

"Define 'peculiar?" the new Spider-man said briskly. "'cause all this seems pretty weird to me."

"You are quite right," the grey bearded man replied as he took a step forward. "It seems odd to me that such beings should be summoned to Middle-Earth when the world is out of balance. I-"

"'Out of balance?'" the furred mutant quipped, "what is this, a George Lucas film?"

"What has happened," Elrond cut in as he put his hands down on the table, "is unprecedented, save for one case. Now, I promise you the same thing I promised Liante Edan," The elf continued as he inhaled. "I shall put my mind to finding you a way home. But for now, there is no way that I can foresee."

"So we're stuck here?" Castle grunted, "great."

"In a fashion," the man with the grey beard replied, "yes. But not here specifically," he finished, before casting a glance towards Elrond, who nodded his head before speaking.

"The enemy is no doubt aware of your presence in Middle-Earth," Elrond said, loosing the warm tone and replacing it with a grave one. And the bearded man's expression matched his. "Word will have reached his land of the battle over Amun Sul. One who can defeat a black rider," Elrond said as he indicated towards Shroud. "Is sure to attract his notice. And from what Lord Boromir has told me, the injured man has encountered Saruman."

"And that means...?" the new Spider-man asked.

"The last newcomer to Middle-Earth," the bearded man cut in, with a deep fire in his voice. "Cut down a pack of one-hundred orcs almost single-handedly in a single night. Sauron knows that you may be powerful allies. Allies that could turn the tides of the war in any way you see fit."

"Tomorrow," Elrond said, with even more gravity in his voice than before, "a council will be held. I wish that all of you would join it. Your outside perspective would be useful, I think."