Disclaimer: No owny meee: Hemingway stuff, Jars of Clay music, my history teacher, or any LotR connected stuff.

A/N: After a long, drawn-out argument with myself, which ended with the phrase "You knew what you were going to do all along, why are you even bothering with this?", I am keeping 'Radan and Truly Madly Deeply. The other ones I'm putting on hiatus. Okay?

PS: Everything that the characters are thinking is in single quotes. Okay? It was getting a little confusing, even for the author. Uh, me. Ahem.



6

Ryan was staying in bed because he had promised. Otherwise, he would have been out of there faster than you could say "Where's my sister?"

But he was still sick, though not so feverish now. Ryan had a bit of a stomachache earlier, so he hadn't drunk or eaten anything, and it seemed to be agreeing with him. His head was already clearer, and he didn't have a pounding headache. He at least felt well enough to sing, whereas before it had been like screws boring into his brain.

He lay on top of the covers of their huge bed, nearly naked because of the fever. No one had visited him-besides Narin, of course- for the past month or so. Maybe they were afraid of the sickness.

In any case, he expected to be alone. So he sang in English, an old song. He waved his right hand to the tune of the imaginary acoustic guitar in his head, and the left to the base guitar. Funny things to remember, in such a world. Only the ceiling received his words.

"Fare thee well,

Trade in all our words for tea and sympathy,

Wonder why we try for things can never be

Play our heart's lament,

Like an unrehearsed symphony

Not intend to leave this castle full of empty rooms

Our love the captive in the tower

never rescued

And all our victory songs

Seem to be playing out of tune.

'Cause its not the way

that it has to be

Don't trade our love for tea and sympathy

And its not the way that it has to be

Fare thee well,

your words the bag of leaves that fill my head.

And I can taste the bitterness,

but call the waitress instead,

'cause she hold the answer.

Smiles and asks,

"One teaspoon or two?"

'Cause its not the way

that it has to be

Don't trade our love for tea and sympathy

And its not the way that it has to be

We can work it out…

Why did it have to be that way?" he asked the ceiling, because it was the only thing that he was sure would listen. "Its true, too. I CAN taste the bitterness. And we could have worked it out. She's just so darn stubborn. And all our victory songs…" he paused, then finished the line shakily, singing almost at a whisper. "Seem to be playing out of tune."

"How did everything turn out this way?"

Unfortunately, the ceiling had no consoling words for him.

***

Scritch, scratch. Scritch scratch. Her upper thigh itched, but she couldn't reach the spot because she was crammed uncomfortably into the space between the top of the wall and the ceiling. Unfortunately, the Council of Elrond was taking place, right at that moment, in the room below. The elvish architecture left an eighteen-inch gap between the wall and the sloping, intricate ceiling.

Sarah had discovered this after about an hour of walking through Rivendell. She'd been wondering how she was going to listen in on the council- she certainly wasn't invited, because no one there knew what she had to do with anything. Elrond had been busy working on Frodo from the moment he arrived, Aragorn was in deep counsel with some of the elf-lords, and Sarah had shut her mouth when she found out Ryan didn't want to see her. Something rotten was in Denmark, she figured. And it sure wasn't Hamlet.

The room where the council was to be held, empty only hours ago, was a gorgeous place. Among all the colorful, intricate artwork and architecture, one thing had caught her eye as she searched for possibilities: tracing around the upper rim of the room, a thin space let light in from the outside. She had almost given up on climbing up and listening through here, because of course she would block out light and someone would notice, but she gave it a last stab and looked at the rim from the outside. And of course, the gap lead to a ledge tracing the entire outside of the building, where no light was let in but a thin space still remained. It was about fifteen feet up, hidden from sight and light, and she could simply slide in there, pressed against the outer wall of the next room, and listen.

She'd climbed up there and shoved herself on the ledge just before they rang a very loud, reverberating bell announcing the council.

"For you," she had whispered mock-ominously. "The bell tolls for YOU, Sarah, muahahahaha!" The irony was not lost on her- here, where the most noble and prestigious men of the age met and discussed the fate of the world, the holder of the power of the soul of the earth was crammed into a tiny space, eavesdropping. Ridiculous.

But it served her purpose- find out if anything had changed from the normal timeline, and possibly even see if Ryan was attending.

So here she was, itching like crazy, messing up her elvish gown as she wriggled to reach the itch, and listening while the council continued.

It was amazing how accurately Aragorn had recounted the dialogue in the books- very few things were different. Everything was so intense, so serious. They were all respectful and alert, even thought Sarah noticed the elves and dwarves glaring at each other every once in a while. Most of the things discussed had little to do with the Ring at first. She had to listen to a lot of boring stuff, that was for sure. Sarah tried to tell herself, 'It's like a History lesson in Middle-Earth! Take that, Mr. Clark!'

The hours that everyone talked of irrelevant things gave Sarah's opportunistic mind a chance to wander. She tried to organize everything in her head.

'Okay, Frodo and Sam are right down there, with Gandalf bless his soul, and most of the fellowship.

'Legolas is just sitting there silently, but it looks like he's going to explode.' Sarah peered intently at the elf, knowing it was him because he was dressed differently than most other elves, and he acted just as Aragorn had described. She caught a full view of his face, and saw his furrowed brow and clenched jaw as he listened to Glóin speak. It seemed so familiar…

An image flashed in her mind- just barely for a second. It was Legolas, frozen in motion, the same furrowed brow and clenched jaw… but fear in his eyes. But, Sarah reminded herself, 'You've never seen Legolas before now.'

Just another one of her confusing visions.

There was Gimli, too, sitting with the dwarves. He was just like she had imagined him, along with the rest of the dwarves. Her heart jumped when she saw his head turn, but Sarah didn't know why. It just made her afraid, all of a sudden. Why? What was it about Gimli turning his head?

She shook the feeling off, and searched out Boromir. Everyone was giving him stolen glances, probably wondering who the heck he was. Sarah was almost proud just to see him, knowing how strong and noble he was. Sure, a bit prideful and wary, but he only wanted the best for his people. It was such a tragedy that he would soon fall to the power of the One Ring.

There was Aragorn, as well. Sitting near an elf who must have been Arwen- shockingly beautiful in an ethereal sense, Sarah was actually turned off by her. Sarah had never liked that elf. Or maybe it was just that all female elves reminded her of Narin.

Aragorn looked not a second older than the last time she had seen him- but maybe more grim. Sarah realized all at once that he was almost ninety years old here, but he looked and acted thirty. And she was over thirty, and she looked twenty.

'Ooooooh,' she thought, mentally smacking herself on the head for not realizing the connection earlier. 'Of course. We're Númenorean.'

Frodo was out of her line of sight, as were Bilbo and Sam. She realized they were the ones she wanted to see most of all.

She hoped Frodo had forgotten about her- all they needed was a distraction like love to mess up the quest. Sarah was determined not to let him fall in love with her, no matter what. Of course, she tried to ignore the possibility that she might actually love him, too.

Sarah wondered how Sam was doing. His loyalty and determination and common hobbit sense put him on a pedestal in Sarah's mind. She felt so honored to even know him, even if it had been seventeen years since they'd spoken.

Meeting up with Merry and Pippin had brought her countenance to unreachable heights. Sarah hadn't realized how depressed she had been until the hobbits brought her out of it.

Of course, Sarah reasoned that she would have reacted the same way to Pippin if they had been reunited first, but she couldn't shake the memory of the dizzying feeling she got when Merry had his arms wrapped around her. He always had that carefree, cheeky wink to lift her spirits. He was older now, by her calculations, about eighteen in human equivalence, thirty- eight by year. Much too young for her.

But he had always acted so much older, right?

Sarah bit her lip and closed her eyes. What was that look again, the way Merry had looked at her when he held her head at the base of the neck? His fingers tangled in her hair, and he had such a gleam in his eyes-

'Stop it, silly. Stop it. You don't have time for juvenile fancies that probably have no basis in reality whatsoever. Besides, he just thinks of you as a sister. An OLDER sister.'

But Sarah didn't feel old. She felt… timeless.

'Heh, ironic words,' Sarah thought. 'Timeless. All you need is to figure out how to FIX time, so you and Ryan can get home.'

That brought her mind back to her brother- Ryan… why would he not want to see her? It just didn't make sense! He HAD to want to see her, right? He couldn't be THAT angry with her… it had been so long. Of course, Ryan had always held a grudge. Sarah remembered when Billy Parker had kicked her and pushed her into the dirt on the playground in third grade, and five years later Ryan 'accidentally' let the guy's ten speed bike roll into a lake.

With a jolt, Sarah came back to the present, and tried to catch up on the conversation.

Everyone had fallen still and silent, because Frodo had just been asked to bring out the Ring.

"Behold Isildur's Bane!" said Elrond.

"The Halfling!" Sarah barely heard Boromir mutter. "Is them the doom of Minas Tirith come at last? But why then should we seek a broken sword?"

Heh, Sarah thought. Tell 'im, Aragorn!

The Ranger addressed Boromir. "The words were not 'the doom of Minas Tirith'. But doom and great deeds are indeed at hand. For the Sword that was Broken is the Sword of Elendil that broke beneath him when he fell. It has been treasured by his heirs when all other heirlooms were lost; for it was spoken of old among us that it should be made again when the Ring, Isildur's Bane, was found. Now you have seen the sword that you have sought, what would you ask? Do you wish for the House of Elendil to return to the Land of Gondor?"

Eh, here we go. Arguing, pride, all getting in the way of the real issue. Destroying the Ring.

Bilbo finally broke in with his verse, and put Boromir in his place. Sarah had to bit back a giggle- Bilbo was still full of spirit, even after so many years. Sarah sighed as she recalled how Bilbo would soon offer to take the One Ring to Mordor himself. Very brave- and it rubbed off on Frodo. Sarah lay her head on the crook of her arm, because Bilbo would soon tell his there-and-back-again tale, and she was getting sleepy.

Rivendell really was a peaceful place. Sarah looked out across the path, into the valley. It reminded her painfully of Colorado- or maybe Salt River Canyon. Completely surreal, it was hard to believe she was even here. More difficult to believe she hadn't met with a single member of the fellowship besides the hobbits, who had gone back to worrying about Frodo after the brief distraction of seeing their old friend. They had no idea Sarah was involved in this- how could they?

She wondered where Alder was- he'd gone searching for Aragorn a few days ago, and Sarah hadn't seen him since. Unfortunately, everything here in Middle-Earth took much more time than back home. Sarah had noticed this patently- what would have taken a day took three here, and what would have taken ten minutes took hours. It suited her- everything was restfully… slow.

A breeze ruffled the trees nearby, and Sarah breathed it in deep. Her eyes fluttered, and drooped.

***

"I- I know nothing anymore- this cannot be right- please- I beg of you- there must be another way-"

Narin felt tears in her eyes, and she drew a hand to her mouth. "Please…" she repeated.

'NO,' the voice in her head repeated silkily. 'This is the only way. You wish to surpass eternity with your mortal love? You know what you must do.'

"B-but- I-"

'Ah, I understand. You allow your doubts and fears to rule over your love. Which will you allow victory? You will lose him, you know this…'

"Yes. I know." She sniffled, and regained composure. "Of course. I shall not waver again."

Just then, another elf walked into the room. "Lady Narindrel, the council is finished. Were you looking for Lord Elrond? He is quite anxious to meet with your Ryan. In fact, Aragorn son of Arathorn as well as Gandalf the Grey wish a meeting. Would he refuse yet again?"

Narin waved a hand dismissively. "He is still sick. He wants to see no one. Do not disturb him!"

The elf bowed and left the room. Narin collected herself and almost left, when another elf entered. No- not another elf. A man.

"Oh, I've found you."

"Ryan! Why have you left bed? You are still sick- see how you stagger? And sweat shades your face, pale and sunken! What would you have, death given at request? Return to our room at once!"

Ryan steadied himself on a chair, unknowingly leaning on the chair in which Aragorn had sat during the council. "I must see Elrond, Narin. Can you not understand? I need to know what's happening! When will the rest of the fellowship arrive? You must know, at least! Please, my love, please. I cannot chance missing my sister- this gains precedence over my health, at least! Please!"

Narin wrapped her arm around him, and led him off like a child. "When I see color in your cheeks again, we can discuss a meeting. Until then, you will rest! Nothing else."

They left the room.

Fifteen feet away, Sarah's eyes popped opened, her heart beating faster than her mind was racing. Lulled out of dreams by conversation, but awakened by shock.



~~~I went and saw FotR again, so I was inspired. No more writer's block! Wahoo!

Hey, review, please! Even if it's just to say "Way to go! Keep it up!"

Heck, flame me if you want. Just review!