The Reset

When Claire came up out of the pool, she found herself gasping for air. She had been able to breathe in the emptiness that lies between worlds, but something had felt stifling in the transition. At one point she had looked down as they rose upward. Peregrin's wrist was still gripped tightly in her hand and the hobbit at her side was on the edge of panic. He was gasping like a fish out of water, though she could tell that he was breathing perfectly fine. Yet below them in the darkness something strange was happening and a horrible feeling came over her. She couldn't quite place it, but the term "existential dread" was the closest thing that came to mind.

Peregrin came up out of the pool after her. He too was gasping as he crawled out onto the grass. The two of them sat there for a while in complete silence. The halfling and young human, both clad in black and silver and both terribly shaken.

For the first time since the whole ordeal began, Claire was able to relax. Yet with the break in the tension, so also came the tears. Claire sat with her head in her hands weeping. She had messed up royally and yet it still could have been a lot worse. Looking back at it all she saw clearly how wrong she had been. She had done things her own way and it had sucked. Laemellon didn't have peace with going to Minas Tirith and really neither did Claire. But she had wanted to go there. She made excuses coupled with Morlyg's lies to justify her choices. But she had been wrong.

And what had her selfish choices gotten her? Trying to gain control of her destiny had only made things sour. She had found a friend to stay with, but in order to get into the Citadel she had to get that job. Not that kitchen work was out of her wheelhouse, but she did waste a lot of time that she should have spent on the responsibilities given to her. In the end she had settled for the sake of doing things her way and it had ultimately ended in disaster. Oh how she would apologize to Laemellon if she ever saw her again. Claire had taken her friend's wisdom for granted and in the end the vanaloke died trying to fix the Claire's mistakes.

Claire didn't know if there was any kind of timetable they were supposed to follow at this point, but she was too scared to move. They had come this far and she was going to be sure they had a plan set in place before they did anything. She was done making selfish hasty decisions.

"Eru," she whispered. "Please forgive me. I followed my own path. Show me where I should go and what I should do. I failed. I'm so sorry." Her sorrow overwhelmed her and she sobbed.

A small hand tapped her on the shoulder and she looked up. Peregrin was in front of her sitting on the grass. He stared at her curiously.

"Excuse me...who are you? Have we met before?" the hobbit asked.

Claire rubbed her runny nose with the back of her hand and sighed. Elrain had told her about this back when she was teaching her about Realm Jumper stuff. Most people when they enter the Wood for the first time experience temporary amnesia. They forget how they got there, who they are, or where they are going. Digory and Polly experienced this in "The Magician's Nephew" and it was very apparent that Pippin was experiencing the same thing.

"We have met," Claire said trying to dry her eyes with her sleeve. "I'm Claeo. You and I are…"

Claire paused. She was going to say "We are friends," but was that still true? What had she done to this hobbit? She had gotten him mixed up in so much and now he had been pulled from his own world. She had failed him and Frodo. Before, when they had met at Isengard, she had been the big bad protector. That had gone to her head and it had made her irresponsible. Pippin was now lost, set adrift from the story he was supposed to be in and it was her fault.

"I'm so sorry," she said at last, fresh tears flowing down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry I got Frodo killed. It's all my fault Peregrin. I - I knew I should have followed Laemellon, but...I didn't want to." She said this half to him and half confessing to herself. Pippin looked confused, but the more she spoke the more his memory seemed to return.

"Frodo," he said softly. "We were on a journey to destroy...the Ring. He was the Ringbearer."

Claire looked down at the Realm Jumper ring still on her finger and thought about how she had actually held the Ring of Power in her own hands. She shuddered to think that she had almost been swayed.

They sat in silence as Peregrin stared out into the Wood for a few more moments. At last he said, "Frodo...Frodo is dead." The last words caught in Pippin's throat as he turned to face Claire. The young girl looked into his eyes and felt her own tears well up again. His sorrow only added to the guilt she was already feeling.

The hobbit stood up. "Where are we?!" he demanded, his memory finally caught up with the present. "We...we were in a Minas Tirith. But this is a wood." He looked down at Claire still sitting on the grass. She was exhausted from crying and her eyes stung horribly.

"Claeo," he said. "What have you done?"

"I messed up. I am so sorry." She looked up at him with tear filled eyes. "Pippin, please forgive me."

He stood looking down at her and didn't say a word. Claire could tell the awful truth in his face: he couldn't forgive her, not yet. Because of what she had told him in Isengard, he was well aware of the fact that she was supposed to protect him and the other hobbits from Morlyg. The more he thought about it, the more he seemed to understand why she was so sorry.

"Where are we?" he repeated.

"This is the Wood Between the Worlds. It's the in-between place between realms. I am from one of those pools over there and Middle-earth is that pool there. I was sent to keep Morlyg, that shapeshifter, from killing you and the other hobbits. But I - I failed. So we have come here so that we can go back in time and I can fix this. I'm so sorry I brought you here, but I didn't have a choice. Someone had to come with me, those where the rules."

Peregrin looked around at the Wood again. "These pools are... other lands?"

"Other worlds," Claire said. "Places you could never get to even if you traveled to the very edge of Middle-earth. It's a strange concept to grasp, but it's true."

Pippin took a deep breath and sat down beside her on the grass.

"You said we could fix things," he said. "How do we do that?"

"We have to go back into the Middle-earth pool and I can make sure none of this ever happens." She paused and then said, "I'm going to make sure Morlyg never lays a hand on Frodo. I'll die before I let that happen."

Pippin was silent. Claire tried to say something reassuring, half for him and half for herself.

"Eru is in control and He hasn't forgotten us. I've done what I was told to do in order to reset things. I suppose I'm back on His path. After this, that is what I plan to do from now on." She sighed deeply and looked up at the canopy. "I've learned my lesson."

"Eru...you mean Illuvatar from the old tales of the elves?"

"Yeah. He made all of this," she said gesturing around them. "I know it sounds crazy, but He has been talking to me, helping me all this time. But I didn't even think to ask Him which way I should go when we left Isengard. That was my mistake. I thought I knew better than the One who literally knows the future."

The hobbit next to her stood up. "Well let's do it then," he said.

Claire didn't move. "I don't know if I'm ready," she lamented.

Peregrin huffed and said, "It's time to be ready."

His statement caught her off guard. She looked up at him and was struck by his expression. He looked annoyed, even angry.

"If this...this Eru really does exist and this..." He waved around at the surrounding trees, "Isn't a dream, and you really are some strange woman from another world with magic and the like, then I think that you are quite ready to fix this."

The hobbit put out his hand and Claire took it in hers. He helped lift her to her feet as well as someone who is just under 4 feet tall can for someone who is 5' 6".

"Thank you Pippin," she said smiling, but the hobbit didn't return it. He was being polite and that was all. Underneath his politeness she could tell he was disturbed and just wanted to get out of there.

They were at the edge of the pool now. Staring down into the water, she thought about how odd they looked side by side. Both clad in black and silver and both mentally exhausted. She slipped her ring off her finger and then put it on again to reset it. Then she took Pippin's hand in hers.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"No," Pippin said solemnly. Claire didn't inquire further. It was so strange to see Pippin upset. Indeed, he refused to look at her now. She had pulled him from his own world without even asking him. In a way, she had kidnapped him and regret began to fill her heart.

Claire and Pippin stepped into the pool and began to descend into the rushing depths. Soon Claire felt solid ground forming beneath her feet and light and shape began to become visible. Suddenly Pippin's hand vanished from hers. The sensation made her panic and she flailed her arms trying to grab a hold of him.

"Peregrin!" she yelled in fear as the colors and shapes began to fade. What was happening? Had something gone wrong with their journey?

"Peregrin!" she yelled sitting up. Claire stopped still. Had she been lying down? Apparently this was so, for now she found herself sitting on solid ground with a blanket over her. It was morning and she was in a woody clearing near an old and smouldering campfire. Taking in the scene, the realization of where she was became clear. The mountains loomed on her right and the plains were on the left. Adding to her supposition, another sleeping form moved nearby.

"Did you have a dream about that halfling," Laemellon asked unwrapping herself from her wings. Claire stared at her wide eyed, jaw agape.

"What day is it?" the young girl asked.

"What do you mean?" Laemellon said standing and stretching her shoulders.

Claire flung her blanket off and stood. "I mean what is the date? The date!"

"It's the 6th of March. But you should know that. You are the one who is so obsessed with dates."

Claire gave an incredulous gasping laugh and threw her arms around the vanaloke. "Oh! Thank God! I did it! It worked!"

Laemellon, who was not a touchy feely individual, stood with her arms awkwardly poised in the air. The vanaloki did not "hug" and the concept was something she hadn't quite grasped yet. At last she patted Claire on the back as the young girl buried her face in the vanaloke's shoulder.

"I am so sorry Laemellon!" Claire said. "You were right. You're alway right. I was just too stubborn to see it." She pulled back and cradled the vanaloke's long snout in her hands. This was equally as bizarre to Laemellon as the hug had been.

"You brilliant green wonder," Claire said grinning, tears filling her eyes. Much to the vanaloke's relief, she stopped touching Laemellon after that. Claire began to quickly gather up her things and Laemellon stood awkwardly by trying to process what was happening.

"Claeo...are you feeling alright?"

"Never better," the girl said as she stuffed her blanket into her saddlebag. "We have to get going though. I know where Morlyg is headed."

"Yes, I'm familiar. It's all you talked about for the past two days. She is going to Minas Tirith."

"Oh but that's where we are wrong...or rather I am wrong. You've been right this whole time. She is totally messing with us. See, lemme check something."

Claire shifted her vision to the sight and looked around. Just like it had been before on this morning, Morlyg was nowhere to be seen.

"She's gone. Out of sight," she declared continuing to pack up her things. "But she is messing with us. You remember when you mentioned how convenient it was that she was just within our view this whole trip? Well she is doing it on purpose to make us think that we are effectively chasing her, but in reality she is leading us where she wants us to go."

"Claeo…"

"And on top of that, the whole thing with Pippin and wanting to kill only him because he messed up her face...that's a ruse too. She has been playing us Laemellon, but now we have the upper hand. Now we are going to follow the correct path."

"Claeo…"

"Yeah," Claire said at last taking a breath and turning to look at Laemellon. The vanaloke had quite a serious expression.

"You used the realm spell didn't you?"

Claire fell silent for the first time since she had woken up. She had told Laemellon about the time travel option many days ago as they were traveling to Isengard. She had also mentioned how Elrain had advised heavily against it.

"Yes," she said at last.

Laemellon frowned. "But Elrain advised against it! She said it would be dangerous. How could you do such a thing?"

"Because you were killed," Claire blurted out. Laemellon fell silent as the young girl's brown eyes began to well with tears. She wiped them frustration.

"Ugh, I feel as if I've cried enough for a lifetime," Claire moaned. "And yes, I knew that it was dangerous, but stuff happened that I couldn't fix in addition to your death. I had no choice."

Laemellon didn't say anything else. Claire finished tightening a strap on her horse and then turned and said, "Besides, nothing seems to have been affected. What harm can it do to reset things to the way they were?"

"Let's hope nothing," the vanaloke mused.

The two of them mounted their horses and took off at a gallop eastward. It was a day and a half journey to Ithilien and there wasn't a moment to lose.

The pursuit of Morlyg was very different now than it had been before. Claire and Laemellon pushed their horses to the limit as they sped across hill and dale. At last Claire could see the glimmering form of Morlyg in the distance. They continued to ride hard until nightfall when Laemellon insisted they give the horses a rest. They stopped for only a few hours before starting again. Even though she had ridden hard through the day, Claire wasn't tired. She was energized and driven by a vengeance that burned in her heart. It was strange, but she felt that she had to catch the demon not only to stop her from corrupting the story, but to pay her back for the wrongs she had done in a timeline that no longer existed.

On the morning of the 7th of March, the day Claire had originally parted with Laemellon and entered Minas Tirith, both she and the vanaloke could at last see the outline of the mountains around Mordor. Morlyg was also getting closer and closer. As they rode, the sun began to peek over the blanket of cloud stretching out from the land of shadow. Noon was drawing near and Claire knew that they were getting close to Frodo, Sam, and Faramir. This would be the day that the rangers of Ithillien would have a big fight with the Southrons and Samwise Gamgee would see the Oliphant.

The country changed from a flat plain dotted with tree and brook to rolling and steep hilly deciduous wood. Claire's heart began to beat faster as they sped along. The horses panted as they plodded the rough terrain. Morlyg couldn't have been more than a hundred feet ahead now. She was scrambling through the wood, well aware of the intense pursuit behind her. At last they came out onto a flatter place that cut in and out of the rolling hills.

Laemellon was just behind Claire, her wings bent to their most aerodynamic position as she stood in the stirrups. She glanced back and then yelled to Claire, "Look behind! Someone is following us!"

Looking behind Claire saw a figure on a grey horse. The person was clad in a long dark blue cloak that billowed out behind them as they galloped along. A large hood hid the person's face and in the chaos of the chase Claire was unable to make out who it was. She did however recognize the style of the saddle and bridle on the horse. It was the same as their horses from Lothlorien.

The mysterious pursuer drew up beside them and then passed them, taking off after Morlyg at an incredible speed. The path suddenly turned a bend and that was when Claire and Laemellon realized they had to stop.

Morlyg was in full view now, running as fast as her legs could carry her. At the speed she was going, it would have been very easy to catch her now save one important factor: she was running straight into the middle of a battle.

The Southrons, the men of Harad, were running headlong down a far hill pursued by several Ithilien rangers. Everywhere men were engaged in combat and Morlyg ran directly into the fray. Claire lept off her horse as fast as she could. After tying the horse to a tree, she took off after the demon and Laemellon followed suite. Running into a battle probably wasn't the wisest thing to do, but Claire was determined that Morlyg would not get away this time. If the Dark Lord himself had stood in her way she might have still run after the fallen Maia.

As they entered the battle, Claire ducked the sword of a Harad warrior, sidestepped another and then continued to run. She was almost to Morlyg now. She could see her dark hair whipping in the wind and her red sword was in her hand. Yet the demon's stamina was considerably more than Claire's at this point and the young girl was beginning to feel a pain in her side from the running. She panted and pleaded. "Please! I can't lose her now."

From the side the mysterious cloaked pursuer came, their horse riding up perpendicular to Claire and Morlyg's path. The person lept from the saddle and landed with surprising skill a few yards in front of Morlyg. The demon continued to advance, her blade poised to strike the strange new challenger. The person withdrew a long curved blade, yet held it behind them in their left hand, back straightened, waiting for their opponent to make the first strike. Morlyg lunged at the hooded figure who ducked the demon's sword by mere inches. Then to the shock of Claire, Laemellon, and especially Morlyg, the stranger brought their fist forward and clocked Morlyg right on the jaw. It couldn't have been a more perfect punch; the stranger's arm was straight and solid as a steel beam. Claire quite literally ducked out of the way as Morlyg's body flew backwards. Lamellon was further behind and the vanaloke's eyes were wide in amazement. What kind of person can punch a demon in the face?

The battle was still raging around them so there was no time to ask for an explanation. Morlyg sprang up rubbing her bruised jaw with her free hand. Her eyes were wide with shock and offense, but when she saw Claire standing there, she cracked a smile. Claire's blood burned. It was the same smile the demon had given her disguised as Faramir back in Minas Tirith, from her perspective hours before. Rage rose up in Claire's soul.

The young girl drew her sword, ignited her hands, and laid into the fallen maia with a passion and aggression she had no idea she was capable of. The image of Losswen's face as she had been stabbed in the back flowed through Claire's mind as she slashed at Morlyg again and again. Usually anger got Claire in trouble and made her clumsy. Yet this time somehow it gave her strength and she felt in her soul that this was actually what she was supposed to do. She could have sworn she heard Eru say Smite her with all the wrath you can wield and she was all to happy to oblige.

Suddenly the ground beneath their feet shook and out of the trees bounded an enormous creature. The Oliphant, a great elephant-like beast nearly 3 times the size of a normal elephant, stomped through the forest in a flurry of splintered wood and upturned earth. The beast was coming straight for them and Claire and Morlyg looked up from their fight too late to get out of its path. The creature was nearly on them and Claire hoped that being crushed by its huge feet would be a swift and painless death. She heard the twang of a bow from behind her and the creature gave a cry as it lunged to the side in the nick of time, turning away and running in a different direction.

Its massive tusks swept low over them as it turned and Claire ducked just in time. Morlyg however was not so lucky. The oliphant's tusk struck her so hard that it threw her nearly 30 feet into the air in a westernly direction back towards where they had come from. She landed in the woods with a crash.

Claire turned and saw the cloaked figure lower a bow. The person had shot at the oliphant which had turned the great beast. Claire gawked as she realized what had just happened. The oliphant had turned just like that in The Lord of the Rings. Had she just been a part of fulfilling an event in the book?

But that question would have to wait. Struggling to her feet she took off after Morlyg and Laemellon followed close behind. The battle was dissipating as they ran through the wood and soon they found where the demon had landed. Morlyg struggled and crawled, and Claire wasn't sure if she was going to get very far. To her surprise, the demon got to her feet and started running back westward away from the battle and away from Faramir and his rangers.

Yet this didn't slow Claire's pursuit. She was more focused than she had ever been, the hard and painful images of the tragedy she had witness burning in her mind. Morlyg staggered through the woods ahead of her and it seemed that perhaps then Claire would at last complete the mission she had been sent for.

Out from the brush a horse appeared and as Morlyg lept onto the saddle Claire realized that it was in fact her horse from Lothlorien. In the rush of pursuit, she had failed to notice that they were retreading their steps and had come back to where she had left it. As Morlyg pulled on the horse's reins, Claire cried out "Stop!" But that of course went unheeded. Before she sped away, the demon made eye contact with Claire and the young girl could see the change in her demeanor. Morlyg was retreating. She knew the long con was over and there was only one thing left to do now: escape. Her defeated visage gave Claire one last surge of adrenaline as the young girl lunged for the horse's bridle. But she grasped thin air and stumbled to her knees as the horse sped away into the forest.

For the first time in approximately 36 hours, Claire stopped. She was done pursuing for now and exhaustion was beginning to sweep over her. Laemellon came up behind and stopped when she saw the horse and its rider shrinking into the distant wood.

"Are you alright?" she asked leaning down to look at Claire.

The young girl waved her off. "I'm ok," she said flatly. "We - we can't stop for long. We have to catch her."

"But we stopped her, yes? We stopped her from doing what she did before?"

Claire nodded panting in relief as she continued to sit on the ground. "Frodo and Sam are in the custody of Faramir now. I don't know how she did it before, but whatever it was, I think she has lost her opportunity. Would you fly up and see what direction she is headed?"

Laemellon leapt into the sky and circled for a few minutes. As she landed back down to earth she said, "Morlyg is heading southwest. Toward a city set into the end of the mountain range."

"Minas Tirith," Claire breathed. "At least this time we can know she is actually going there."

She rose to her feet, her knees wobbling for a moment. The sudden stop to their intense chase had winded her and she leaned on a nearby tree for a moment before getting her bearings.

"The city will be heavily guarded," Claire said and then added with a smile, "But I know the passwords and a few people from the previous timeline that we can use to our advantage."

"You will do nothing of the sort," said a voice behind them. Laemellon and Claire turned and saw the strange cloaked person, the one who had punched Morlyg in the face. The person strode into the clearing where they were and pulled back their hood. Laemellon and Claire gasped. They knew the face all too well.

It was Elrain.