Author's Note: Okay, not quite as long of a wait this time. This particular story is almost done, with at least one more chapter and an epilogue left to go. I've actually started outlining the next story, working title An Ounce of Prevention. It skips ahead a few months to April (I think), so Boromir can have conversations in English. Let's see, in this chapter, we have more fall-out from the devastating explosion in Campbell's neighbor, Gavin meets Ronan face-to-face, and a revelation is made (though it wouldn't surprise me if some of my readers saw it coming). This will probably be my last update for 2009, so to everyone, Merry Christmas. . .Happy Hanukkah. . .Happy Solstice, whichever holiday you celebrate, and have a happy New Year. I'm hoping that 2010 turns out to be a much better year. And now, on with the story!

Chapter Eleven

Pleased to meet you, Hope You guess my name

Well, it was about time! She had thought she would need to make another appearance before he started doing his part! However, even as the thought occurred to her, Pelagia knew she was being unfair to Boromir. He was still somewhat weak, though gaining his strength back on a daily basis. There was little he could do at the moment. . .but carefully pulling Megan into his arms to comfort her was a good start. It was a mark of just how exhausted she was, too, that the young detective hadn't fought him. . .simply gave into Boromir's gentle tugs.

She was now curled against Boromir's shoulder, weeping quietly. The Gondorian had his good arm wrapped around her protectively, comfortingly, and he rested his cheek against her dark hair. Megan was grieving for the lives lost, for the millions of chances that were lost forever today. . .for the younger sister who loved someone whom she shouldn't. . .for Gavin and his strained relationship with his son. She cried because she was exhausted and it was fine, because the man she knew as Michael was strong enough to be strong for her. The same compassion that led Boromir of Gondor to rest a comforting hand on Gimli's shoulder in the Mines of Moria, to hold that same dwarf after Olorin's fall, and to comfort Frodo Baggins as they awaited entrance into the Golden Wood now led him to hold a grieving police detective.

Reassured that Megan was in good hands, Pelagia directed her attention to other parts of the apartment. She had to leave shortly, as she needed to return to Legolas and Haldir. A quick glance into the kitchen told her that Cal was almost done with the food he had heated up for Megan's dinner. The microwave had gone off several minutes earlier, but the lasagna required some time to cool, and there was also the matter of the parmesan cheese. Pelagia had no idea why the girl insisted on sprinkling the powdery cheese over her lasagna. . .her pizza. . .her baked ziti. . .her spaghetti, when there was already had cheese on them. She just did it. And Cal knew his old friend well enough to know that if he didn't put the cheese on, Megan would come back into the kitchen and do it herself. Pelagia sighed. Foolish girl. Foolish, stubborn, proud girl. Then again, that was part of the reason Boromir had been steered toward these Champions. . .one reason at least. He needed someone to take care of him. . .and he needed to take care of someone. It was yet another reminder to her that when all was said and done, Boromir was a protector.

Satisfied that one Champion was taking care of another, Pelagia turned her attention to other things. Hmmm. She truly wasn't concerned with the likes of Dorcas Meriweather, though she didn't begrudge Ailsa Rafferty her concern. She was, after all, Megan's mother, and that was what a mother did, no matter how old her child was. However, the local busybody wasn't Pelagia's concern, and Ailsa was more than capable of dealing with the woman. Pelagia happened to know that the Meriweather woman's pastor was preparing a sermon on the dangers of gossip and of assuming one knew the entire story. However, she also knew that Dorcas would simply agree with what her pastor said and continue blithely on her path, entirely unaware that the sermon was meant for her. Of course. With individuals like that, it was always meant for someone else, never for her.

She wasn't evil. Not even a mundane evil. . .but she also wasn't worth Pelagia's attention. And so, Pelagia dismissed the busybody from her mind. On the other hand, seeing Cal Watkins place a tv tray in front of Megan, that young man was another story. Yes, he was a Champion in another town (he was claimed by one of her brothers, if she remembered correctly). She was rather fond of him herself. He was something of a scoundrel, with an underlying sweetness (such as putting together this quick dinner for Megan and lightly kissing her hair when he put the tray of food in front of her). Needless to say, he was quite popular with the ladies in his current home.

Reassured that Megan was in good hands until Gavin returned to the apartment, even if Cal left, Pelagia turned her attention to Elena, who was sitting in her parents' home on the other side of town, her youngest niece cradled against her chest as she rocked the youngster from side to side. At the same time, she listened to the other children, a gentle, sad smile on her face. Pelagia's own smile echoed Elena's and satisfied that both of her detectives were in good hands, she had one last stop to make.

Not because he was one of her Champions, but because his life would intersect with the lives of her Champions. . .and very soon. Namely, one Brendan Farrell. . .or as Boromir once knew him, Frodo Baggins. Until the previous year, Brendan Farrell had been an average college student. However, with the overdose of his high school best friend, Brendan began to spin out of control. It was an old story. . .a young man alienating his friends and family, turning to theft and even murder to feed his habit. Things came to a head when his friend almost died. The young man was in question was healing from his descent into self-destruction. . .however, Brendan's own descent had only just begun. Shortly after the final confrontation with his friend in an alley beside one of the town's restaurants, Brendan began having nightmares about his previous life in Middle-earth.

For now, he was all right. . .however, her concern was what would happen when he came face to face with Boromir. It was Pelagia's intuition that his friend's drug-induced madness triggered his memories from that ancient time when another friend behaved in a very similar manner, as a result of a very different sort of drug. . .namely, the One Ring. She would need to watch the young man very carefully, and speak with Ronan to ensure that Boromir didn't come into contact with the college student before he was prepared to deal with the memories. He was already beginning to remember his past. It was a most complex business, and she would need to step carefully.

With that silent promise made, Pelagia now returned to British Columbia. She sometimes forgot about the change in time from the East Coast to the West. Which was why she found herself blinking at the bright sunlight as she settled in the dining room where Legolas and Haldir were setting the table in preparation for the evening meal. It was a peculiarity of the Elven prince that even when he was eating something as common as pizza, the usual china and silverware was used. Peculiar but, as the human mortals would say, cute.

Just like Elven hearing. . .ah, no, that was 'acute.' The two young Elves turned to face her, as she delicately cleared her throat. And Pelagia couldn't help but smile at their matching expressions of shock and chagrin (particularly the princeling). She said, "Oh, do keep working. . .pay no mind to me. I can speak while you work." Oh, this was so much fun! Much as she loved watching over Megan, Kristin, Boromir, and Elena, she missed actually interacting with people.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

It was a little after seven when Kristin Rafferty wearily entered her house. Dr. Daly had been kind enough to drop her off at the clinic after leaving the site explosion and Megan's apartment. He really didn't have to do that, the girl had told him more than once on the way over, she could have gotten a ride with Captain Anders. The poor man looked exhausted. At least he planned to return to his room at the inn and sleep for a week. That was what he said, at least, though Kristin had her doubts about whether or not he'd be able to sleep at all. She was having doubts about her own ability to sleep.

Her mother had left dinner in the kitchen for her and Kristin opted to take her belongings into her room before coming back in to heat her dinner. Which was. . .baked ziti. Kristin allowed herself a humorless smile at the sight of the food. It was Megan and Kristin's favorite when they were younger, and no doubt meant as a peace offering. Dad most likely said something to her about lunch, she noted a bit numbly. She was glad. When she had the energy to do anything more than put one foot in front of the other, Kristin would be sure to thank her father, after telling her mother than Ronan had decided it was okay for Meg to take Michael to the Christmas festival.

She all-but-limped into her room, easing her purse onto her bed. Funny. She was in her room earlier today, but it seemed different. Or maybe she was different. Kristin shuddered, not liking that idea at all. Right now, she didn't like the idea of growing up, maturing. . .being an adult. She wanted to be a little girl again, and hide in her sister's arms, peeking through Megan's fingers while they watched tv. A videotape sat beside her bedside. . .a tape Megan gave her before leaving for college, so many years earlier.

Kristin had 'inherited' her taste in cartoons, tv shows and movies from her older sister, and on that tape were episodes of their favorite cartoons and tv shows. It was yet another way of giving Kristin something of Megan's to hold onto, so she could feel close to her older sister. The first cartoon. . .or really, show of any kind. . .Kristin could remember watching was old episodes of Dungeons and Dragons. She was very little at the time, and her clearest memory was of snuggling in Megan's arms whenever Venger was on the screen, and Elena teasing her sister about having a crush on the Archmage.

Later, she promised herself, needing a little of that childhood stability, I'll watch it later. For now, she had to re-heat her dinner. Still dragging a little, Kristin made her way back into the kitchen. First order of business: make sure there was nothing in the oven. No one ever really told her what would happen if she put an empty skillet in a heating oven, along with whatever she was warming up, but Kristin was also sure she really didn't want to discover those consequences first hand. A quick check revealed all was clear and she proceeded with heating up her dinner.

"I won't ask how bad it was," her father said softly. Kristin would have jumped, but that would have required too much energy, no matter how startled she was. Especially since he actually managed to sneak up on her, something he hadn't been able to do since Megan graduated from the academy. She turned dull brown eyes toward him. Her father's gentle, sympathetic expression melted into something else. . .a sort of distant grief. He cupped her shoulders in his hands, saying softly, "Oh, baby girl. . .I'm so sorry." The girl swayed forward until her head came to rest on his chest.

Between one breath and the next, she was enfolded in her father's arms and she felt like she was twelve years old once again. Kristin clung to him, whispering, "I . .how does she do it, Daddy? How does Megan keep her sanity when she sees things like that? I always knew that sometimes being a cop was hard, but how does she. . .? I mean, there was this one person who had been in his car, getting ready to go to lunch. Part of the wall and ceiling collapsed on him, in his car. The cement smashed through his windshield, it was so, so. . ." Her voice trailed off.

Her father's arms tightened around her, but said nothing. Kristin blinked back tears. In a way, talking about the horrors she saw this afternoon was easier. She didn't dare tell her father about Logan. . .she just didn't think he would understand. More to the point, she wasn't ready to take that chance. No matter how much it had hurt to see him tonight. Instead, she whispered, "Dr. Daly and I stopped off at Meg's apartment on the way here. He wanted to look at Michael. . .left a note for Meg, to let her know he's okay to go to the Christmas Festival. Mom will be pleased."

Even she winced at the bitterness in her voice. But her father didn't chastise her. Instead, he murmured, "I can't imagine what you saw tonight, Kristy. . .or how stupid even having a Christmas festival seems. But, that's why we need this. So many terrible things have happened in this town over the last few months, we need this reminder of what's good in the world, and that some sacrifices are worthwhile. I know you needed to talk to your sister today at lunch, but your mom is trying to protect you and your sister with all this talk of the Christmas festival."

"I know," Kristin answered hoarsely, "I know. I know what that evil old biddy has been doing, trying to turn people in town against Megan. She couldn't keep her mouth shut while we were trying to work. . .kept talking about how selfish Megan is for taking in Michael. . .though she didn't put it like that. . .and how ashamed you and Mom must be of her. Mrs. Farrell tried to help, by talking about how proud both Grandma and Grandpa would have been, but she just made things worse. Mayor Farrell finally had to drive Mrs. Meriweather over to the other site, just to keep things from really going haywire. The people actually trying to help didn't need all of that drama! I know I'm not supposed to, but I hate that woman. I absolutely loathe her!"

Her father pulled back just enough to kiss her forehead lightly, answering, "You're right, you shouldn't hate her. Not because of her, but because of you. It's bad enough that viper's trying to hurt my older daughter. . .I won't have her hurting you, too." Kristin blinked back tears and moved deeper into his embrace, wishing for a moment that she was twelve years old again, and that her father's arms really could protect her from everything and anything. But that illusion faded a long time ago, and now she knew the truth. Besides, she did know that turning back time wasn't possible. . .or even desirable.

"I just. . .it isn't fair," Kristin rasped out, cringing at the words. She hated that she had even spoken them. She hated that she was whining like a little kid who hadn't gotten what she wanted. Life wasn't fair. . .she had realized that some time ago. But. . .but that never stopped her from wishing it was. Especially when people like Dorcas Meriweather were involved. Elena's mother once remarked rather bitterly that it was people like Mrs. Meriweather who gave small towns a bad name. It was a rather unexpected thing to hear from the normally quiet, gentle woman. . .but people often made the same mistake with her that they made with Megan.

"I know, sweetheart. I know it isn't fair. Especially when you consider that Megan would no more hesitate to risk her life to save that old biddy than she would hesitate to risk her life for you. Yeah, she's a cop. . .she's to preserve and protect the people of this town, whether she likes certain inhabitants or not. That isn't the point. The point is, it isn't right that some jealous crone makes your life, and your sister's life difficult for doing her job. And that's exactly what this is," her father replied. Startled, Kristin pulled back to look up at him. He nodded seriously, explaining, "This really has nothing to do with the morality of Megan's decision to bring that young man to Campbell or his living in her apartment while he heals. It has everything to do with Dorcas Meriweather's jealousy of your grandmother, and her jealousy of your sister. You look surprised, baby girl. . .but Dorcas has always been jealous of Megan and Sayre. Remember, she's only lived here for about fifteen years, and she's been accepted. But she's never been viewed with the same affection as you, your sister, or Elena. The people of this town watched the three of you grow up. You're family in a way that she never will be. And she can't accept that."

"She needs to grow up and get over herself, then," Kristin muttered. Her father merely laughed softly, though there was no malice or even amusement. It was, in fact, a very sad laugh. She leaned her head against his chest again, asking softly, "What can I do, Daddy? What should I do? Mrs. Farrell tried to help by defending Megan and talking about how proud Gramma would have been, but she just made things worse. And I know Megan doesn't want Elena involved. You know how Mrs. Meriweather is."

Her father kissed her forehead and replied, "Your sister can't keep Elena out of it, and she knows that. Elena will get involved if she thinks she's needed. They'll find their peace somehow. They always do. And you? I don't think there's anything you can do, baby doll. Just love your sister and support her. That's Megan really wants. . .our love and support. We don't have to fight her battles for her." Kristin nodded and snuggled against his chest again. He hugged her tightly, murmuring, "That's the other reason your mother wants so badly for everyone to go to the Christmas Festival. There are good people in this town. . . good people, bad people, petty people, cowardly people. But they need to see their police officers and firefighters, their soldiers. It reassures them."

Kristin couldn't argue. Logan's presence aside, she couldn't deny that she relaxed, just a little, when she saw her older sister and Elena. Whether it was because they were among the town's protectors or because Megan was her sister, she wasn't sure. Instead of arguing, she just clung to her father, a little while longer. All too soon, she would return to be the semi-adult she considered herself to be. . .for now, she would continue to be her daddy's little girl. For now, for as long as she could.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

And so day turned into night, then night again into day. The amnesiac the Rafferty family knew as 'Michael' found he was strong enough to help his exhausted, heart-sore guardian into her room after she finished her dinner (although he was exhausted when he got back to his own bed). Kristin Rafferty ate her leftover baked ziti, gave her father one last hug, then went to bed and spent the remaining hours of the evening by watching old cartoons that still held her heart. Elena Gutierrez spent those same hours with her nieces and nephews, reminding herself why she had chosen to become a cop. And Ronan Daly returned to his room at the inn, quietly mourning all that was lost and all that remained.

In short, life went on, as it always does, as it always must. As Kristin guessed, once Ronan gave Michael a clean bill of health, Megan acquiesced in the matter of the Christmas party. However, Ronan also agreed with Meg when she stated that they would be there for a maximum of two hours. Michael would be exhausted and so would she. Ailsa happily accepted this compromise, bringing peace to the Rafferty home again. Of course, that lasted up until Ailsa decided that both of her daughters needed new dresses for the party. . .however, for the sake of his own sanity, Francis immediately put his foot down. Kristin, who was the only sister who knew about that particular battle, had absolutely no trouble in keeping that particular secret from Megan. . .along with the secret about her mother wanting Megan to help decorate the community center for the party. However, when Francis informed her that they would be receiving assistance from Tom and Brendan Farrell, and Gavin, Ailsa had no choice but to eighty-six her plan to involve her older daughter.

But while Kristin kept those secrets from her older sister, she kept none of them from Gavin Rafferty. He had returned to Campbell with Reese the day after the explosion, exhausted and at his wits end with his son. While the argument could be made that the last thing he needed was further family intrigue, the truth was, it was exactly what he needed: something to distract him from his son's seeming desire to destroy his life. Reese would be twenty years old on his next birthday, and much as he hated it, the boy had to live his own life. He couldn't keep saving the boy from himself, not if he wanted Reese to start saving himself.

And so, he distracted himself when he went to the Rafferty home on the night of the community center decoration, a few days after the explosion. And what a distraction it was! Everyone had plenty to say. During dinner, Ailsa and Francis debated about the best way to decorate the front yard. His was already done, so he offered his assistance. . .an offer that was gratefully accepted. After dinner, he listened to Kristin's account of what happened at the site of explosion. She was obviously trying to come to terms with what she had seen and experience, and listening to her was the least Gavin could do. However, he quickly realized that he was hearing far more than she was consciously telling him. True, he already knew some of it, but she confirmed a great deal for him. Kristin thought no one else saw the longing glances she cast toward Logan Garvey. The poor girl was a lot more obvious than she realized, but Gavin couldn't bring himself to tell her that. She wanted to believe that no one else knew, and for now, no one had the heart to tell her otherwise. Not Gavin. . .not Logan. . .and certainly not Madelyn, who saw how the girl yearned for her husband, and yet never acted on those feelings.

Did she remind him of Eowyn? Not especially. There were similarities, of course, but Kristin was Kristin, not the reincarnation of the White Lady of Rohan. . .a fact for which he was deeply grateful. He didn't recommend being a reincarnation, or being aware of one's past lives. He was grateful that Kristin would not have that burden (at least, he hoped she would never know that burden). There was a time, when he was about Reese's age, when he felt he had to live up to Aragorn Elessar. However, he would focus on that later. Kristin needed his attention now. Eventually, she talked herself out and slumped against him. . .not just talked out, but also worn out. Poor kid. Gavin eased her down onto the sofa properly, leaving her nestled under an afghan her grandmother quilted several decades earlier. With a gentle caress of her black hair, Gavin walked onto the back porch and then out into the yard. He shivered slightly, though not enough to go back inside and get a jacket.

As the year came to an end, the darkness came earlier and earlier. The setting sun made him think of another twilight, thirty thousand years earlier. Now able to think about what troubled him during his conversation with And his mind drifted back to his younger self, who had wanted so much to live up to being Aragorn Elessar. Gavin shook his head. Those days almost got him killed, but they also led him to the Marines. . .something he could never regret. Once he got over the heartbreak of realizing he would never truly be Aragorn Elessar, Gavin threw himself whole-heartedly into being the best Marine he could be. Aragorn Elessar had been a king, a Ranger, a healer, a teacher. But Gavin Rafferty was just Gavin Rafferty, and once he became accustomed to that idea, he was immensely grateful. Because being just Gavin Rafferty was good enough. He would accept his heritage, his past, as the King of the Reunified Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor, but that was all it was to him. . .the past.

He had memories enough and scars enough from this lifetime. Perhaps that philosophy was contrary to what he was doing as Boromir's guide, but he didn't think so. He wouldn't be much of a human being if he left Boromir to drift. Sure, he had Megan and Elena, but neither girl spoke Sindarin. And while Boromir wasn't as fluent in Sindarin as he was in Westron, he could at least understand it, which made it easier to teach him English. He wasn't Aragorn, but the blond-haired man recovering in Megan's apartment was Boromir, and there was enough of Aragorn left in Gavin for that to mean something. To mean everything.

The door opened and closed behind him, and Francis Rafferty said softly, "We'll be leaving for the community center in five minutes. You're welcome to ride with us." Gavin thought about that for a minute, then nodded his agreement. Yes, that probably would be the best idea right now. He knew Francis and Ailsa would offer to let him stay overnight if it became necessary. And if it became necessary, it made more sense for him to ride with them. Francis hesitated, then added, "Then I'll meet you at the car."

Again, Gavin nodded. He thought of Megan, most likely sitting in her living room with Boromir. He hadn't seen much of her over the last few days. There was still some clean-up going on at the site of the explosion, and there were several cops from Campbell who were helping out with that. She might have been among them. . .but it was also possible that she pulled her shifts, then returned home to Boromir. If he was able, he kept an eye on his old friend while Megan was at work. . .if not, Johanna Watkins and her grandson did that for her. Along with Nico, of course, who seemed to have great affection for the misplaced Gondorian warrior.

Then Francis did something that really surprised him. He took two steps toward the door, then turned and observed quietly, "He's here for a reason. Slain Gondorian warriors do not simply turn up in twenty-first century America, three hundred centuries after the Fourth Age." All right, it was something of an understatement to say that Gavin was surprised. Shocked, he turned to the older man, already protesting. . .what? That he didn't know what Francis was talking about? Not smart. The older man just shook his head and added, "Don't even try to tell me that you don't recognize him, Gavin. I know better. You and I both lived during the Third Age of what some called Middle-earth. You and I both knew that man now living with Megan in her apartment. I'm not entirely sure who you were, but we also knew each other. Now the question becomes, who brought him here and why was it allowed? It's different for you and I. . .we're reincarnations. But not him. No, he's Boromir of Gondor, all right."

Gavin couldn't answer for several minutes. What was he supposed to say? Tell this man that he was wrong, even though Gavin knew he was right? Not possible. At last, he said softly, "Something is coming. Something evil. Maybe not Sauron, but something dark and something ugly. You and I are both reincarnations. I'm ninety percent sure that Kristy's new friend Ronan Daly is a reincarnation, as is Brendan Farrell. Campbell is a small town, not even a blip on the national radar, much less the international. And yet, so many reincarnations from that time and place is here, now."

He looked back at Francis and repeated, "Something is coming. Something terrible. And we have to be ready for. . .for whatever it is." The other man nodded, and Gavin added, "I'll meet you in the car in five minutes. There's something I need to do." Francis hesitated only for a moment, but nodded and went back inside. . .probably to collect his wife and younger daughter. Gavin turned back to the starry night and whispered, "Whoever is listening. . .the name we use doesn't matter. . .just watch over us. That's all I ask. Just watch over us and support us when we lose our strength."

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

Five days after the terrible explosion was the annual Christmas festival/Christmas party/however you wanted to put it in the town of Campbell, North Carolina. Over the last few days, Ronan spent most of his time resting. . .and thinking. It was coming time for him to retire, something he tried not to think about most of the time. There was too much to do. But. . .but now, he was finding more and more reasons why he should think about it. The explosion a few days earlier forced him to acknowledge something he had been trying to avoid over the last few years. . .he had lost his passion for practicing medicine. He still cared about his patients and doing the best he could for them.

But the passion that drove him for decades was gone. There was nothing wrong with that. . .after all, passion could only take one so far. But. . .the loss of his passion for practicing medicine also resulted in him losing heart. It was time to think about retiring. He wasn't sure he was actually ready to retire. . .but perhaps he should think about it. However, that could wait. For now, he had a party to attend. He dressed in what young Callum Watkins called 'business casual,' which was dark slacks and a plain white shirt. He possessed no clothes that could be called 'Christmassy' by any means. Ah, well. He could always stop off at K-Mart or Wal-Mart on the way over and pick up a festive tie. He was sure they would have something appropriate. Ronan smiled to himself. Mental exhaustion aside, he really was looking forward to this evening. According to Janithy, a lot of work went into the decoration of the community center.

She went on to tell him that he would meet even more people tonight. . .people like the mayor, Thomas Farrell, and his college student son, Brendan; the police captain, Lydia Anders, for another; and many others in town. There were people in her town that she didn't like, such as Dorcas Meriweather (described by Janithy as the Wicked Witch of Annapolis, as she was apparently from the city which held the Naval Academy); others whom she did (two she mentioned by name was a young cop Ronan met briefly at the command center, Logan Garvey, and his wife Madelyn); and still others, she wasn't sure about (Dr. Lucius Wellington in particular). He would meet them all.

Others, he would be meeting for the second or third time. There was the lovely young lawyer, Bronwyn Harris, who was in town to help convict Dalton Robeson. She seemed rather familiar to him, though he was very cautious in trying to find fellow reincarnates, a lesson he learned from Gabriel, who looked for other reincarnates from Middle-earth, seeking redemption. His friend found himself burned on more than one occasion because of that very noble desire. No. No, he would be careful.

At a quarter after six, he called a taxicab; at six thirty, the cab pulled up in front of his room; and at six forty-five, the cab drew to a halt in front of the community center. He chose to take a cab tonight, in the event he wished to imbibe. As a doctor for all of these years, he saw too many times what happened when a drunk idjit got behind the wheel of the car. He couldn't do much about another idjit who drove drunk, but he would do his best to make sure his irresponsibility didn't take another life.

As he entered the community center, a smiling young girl offered to take his coat. She couldn't have been more than fourteen or fifteen, with pale gold hair and bright blue eyes. He gave her the requested item with a charmed smile, then wandered further into the building. Whoever had decorated the building did an outstanding job. A gigantic Christmas tree stood in the middle of the room. . .it somewhat reminded him of the tree in The Poseidon Adventure (the original, thank you very much). The community center looked like it was decorated by a community. . .or a family. . .rather than an interior decorator, which charmed Ronan all the more. But that quickly paled in comparison to the expression on Kristin Rafferty's face when she saw him. Her brown eyes lit up and she all but ran to his side, throwing her arms around him in obvious delight. He returned the embrace, trying hard not to laugh. He didn't want her to think he was laughing at her.

In short order, he was introduced to her parents. . .Francis, a tall, handsome man in his early sixties with silvering hair and bright eyes, and Ailsa, a pretty, auburn-haired woman who could have been accurately described as 'birdlike.' He quickly learned that Ailsa grew up here in Campbell, where her father settled after World War II, while Francis was original from Canada. He didn't explain what brought him to Campbell, but he obviously loved the town as much as his wife and daughters did. After introducing him to her parents, Kristin next led him to her sister, who was standing near the tree with Boromir in the wheelchair. He hadn't seen either since the night of the explosion, when he examined Boromir. The young man was healing well, Ronan was pleased to note. He was settled in his wheelchair with a bottle of water in his hand. Excellent. . .with the amount of blood he lost, Megan was ensuring he wouldn't be dehydrated. She noticed his eyes stray toward the water bottle and smiled faintly. Kristin blurted out as he quietly talked to Megan, "Oh, Gavin's here!"

Ronan turned to see a tall, dark-haired man enter the community center. . .and was immediately hit with a breathless sensation, the same sensation he experienced the first time he saw Boromir again. He knew that man. Kristin continued to talk, telling him that Gavin was their cousin on their father's side, that he was the first of their uncle's children to be born in the United States and that he had grown up with Megan and Kristin. . .more Megan than Kristin, since he was nineteen years old when Kristin was adopted. The man grinned at the two girls, nodded to Boromir, and smiled somewhat quizzically at Ronan. And then he knew. It was in the nod, something he vaguely remembered seeing in that first lifetime. . .during the awful battle in Moria. The cave troll, the horror of finding Balin's tomb, the sheer terror of thinking that Frodo was dead. Yes. He knew that man. Of all people to find here. . .he looked nothing at all like the ranger king, but Ronan knew Gavin Rafferty was none other than the other man to be the reincarnation of Aragorn Elessar.

While he knew Gavin was part of Megan's family, and both girls mentioned their cousin on more than one occasion (Kristin in particular noting how Gavin never called their father 'Uncle Francis,' choosing instead to call him by his given name), in one of those weird twists of fate, every time Ronan went to see Boromir at Megan's apartment, it was either Megan herself taking care of Boromir or that lovely German lady who belonged to Nicodemus. He knew from talking with Mrs. Watkins that the retired Marine also helped Megan and had, in fact, practically moved in with her to look after Boromir.

Despite the millennia since he last spoke with Aragorn, Ronan didn't hasten to the younger man's side. He had waited all these eons. He could wait a little longer. Instead, he was introduced to many other key people in the town and enjoyed the festive atmosphere. He had met Mayor Farrell's mother at the command center after the explosion, and the charming woman immediately joined him and the girls when she saw them. After exchanging pleasantries with the girls, Regine Farrell took his arm and led him over to meet her son and grandson (the younger of whom looked very familiar indeed, but he would worry about that later).

Introductions made, he met Captain Lydia Anders next. So this was Megan and Elena's boss. He couldn't help but chuckle whenever townspeople would try to herd Mayor Farrell and Captain Anders toward the mistletoe. They made quite an attractive couple: Mayor Farrell was only a few inches taller than Ronan with black hair beginning to silver and bright blue eyes, and according to the girls, quite devastating when he was younger. Captain Anders was around Elena's height with blond hair a few shades darker than Boromir's, and cornflower blue eyes. While not beautiful in the traditional sense, she was quite pretty, and as taken with the mayor as he was with her. Everyone in town seemed to know that they belonged together, but those two were being stubborn.

Ronan's attention shifted next to Elena, who was dancing with one of her fellow cops and laughing with delight. He was a big man, broad shoulders and thick-waisted, but he was incredibly light on his feet. Santucci, Ronan thought his name was, but wasn't sure. The circle complete for now, he returned to Megan's side. She was, he noted, never more than a few steps away from Boromir, her stance protective. Ronan was glad to see his old friend still in the wheelchair, though he clearly didn't enjoy being there. He mentioned that fact to Megan, who dryly answered, "He likes the pain when he spends too much time out of it even less."

Wise young man. And he was out of water, so Megan wheeled him away to dispose of the water bottle and get them both something to eat and drink. She promised to return in a few minutes, but Ronan assured her that he would be fine. Even with his attention focused on Megan and Boromir, Ronan still sensed Gavin's approach. Without taking his eyes from the pair, Ronan observed, "I would say you haven't changed a bit, laddie, but that would be something of a lie." He was rewarded with a muffled snort, and Ronan grinned before continuing, "You don't seem to be surprised."

"Meg told me a little about you, the way you behaved with Boromir. The more she told me, the more I sensed the Dr. Ronan Daly who looked after Boromir with such tenderness and devotion was one of the Nine. Then I saw you tonight. . .a stretched out version of Gimli. I must admit, I never would have taken Gimli's reincarnation to be a doctor," Gavin observed quietly. Ronan stifled a snort. The lad wasn't nearly as perceptive as he thought, but he could see Gavin's point.

"I'm delving in human bodies now, lad, rather than in the earth. Is it me or does Mayor Farrell seem familiar to you?" the Irish doctor asked, changing the subject abruptly. He didn't want to talk about his profession tonight. There were too many other things to be said. Thirty thousand years since he had spoken with this man, and they couldn't even make a dent in what needed to be said before the party was over. In that case, he thought, don't even make the attempt. Just say what must be said.

"It isn't just you. I think we knew him in the past, and I know we knew his son Brendan in the past," Gavin replied and Ronan nodded. Yes, he looked like a human version of Frodo Baggins, but it was his reaction to Ronan that sealed the deal. Gavin mused, "It's eerie, the number of reincarnations we have in this small town. Who would have thought a little town in North Carolina would have the reincarnations of so many extraordinary people?"

Ronan just smiled, and Gavin continued, "Saruman is one of the town denizens." The doctor's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. He wasn't expecting that! Gavin explained, "I actually know his grandson Jason better. He's a good kid, about a year or so younger than Meg. . .a structural engineer who works freelance. His grandfather, Saruman's reincarnation, is a retired college professor. Dr. Lucius Wellington is his name now, and he runs a dog sanctuary."

Saruman. . .his reincarnation ran a dog sanctuary? Taking note of Ronan's obvious surprise, Gavin smirked and went on, "I've never had a run-in with the guy, but he seems okay. Doesn't really want anything to do with people as a general rule, just wants for his grandson and great-granddaughter to be happy. Other than that, all he really wants is to be left alone." Well. That was certainly unexpected. And yet. . .was it? Ronan thought of Gabriel Wainwright, who ached for a redemption that wasn't really his. So, perhaps Lucius Wellington's desire to be left alone to enjoy his grandson and great-grandchild wasn't so hard to understand.

Gavin observed, almost to himself, "He does seem to like Meg and Kristy, along with Elena. There's this old witch in town. . .Dr. Wellington calls her a harridan, and he's not far wrong. . .she started spreading lies and gossip about Megan after Meg brought Boromir home from Raleigh. Dr. Wellington defends my. . .cousin, and accuses this woman of being jealous." Gavin's hesitation before calling Megan his cousin cemented a suspicion Ronan had since he first saw Gavin. . .and since Kristin mentioned that Gavin never called their father 'Uncle Francis' or their mother 'Aunt Ailsa.'

With that in mind, he asked gently, "Your cousin. . .or your sister?" Gavin's head whipped around so fast, Ronan barely held back a wince. Oooh, that had to hurt. But they had no opportunity to speak further, because a man who was so obviously Lucius Wellington had taken notice of them and was now approaching, his expression worried and angry. Well. It seemed that they would soon encounter another reincarnate. The trick, he decided, was to convince Dr. Wellington that they were no threat to him, to his grandson, or to his great-granddaughter.

Right. Always easier said than done.