(A/N): Ooo...look how nice we decided to be. Another chapter for everyone to enjoy. "Queen Beruthiel's cat" has been put in here as a tribute to Lady Alyssa and Random Dent, the authors of Bagenders, who have FINALLY updated....much tossing of confetti and cymbal clashing can be heard from residence of Rhiminee. By the way, this is also a hint to anyone who doesn't know what we're talking about to go read the story.
Enjoy,
The Nightrunners
Explanations
Soundtrack: When You Believe ( The Prince of Egypt / Mariah Carey)
Many nights we've prayed
With no proof anyone
could hear
In our hearts a hopeful song
We barely understood
Now we are not afraid
Although we know there's much to fear
We were moving mountains
Long before we knew we could
There can be miracles
When you believe
Though hope is frail
It's hard to kill
Who knows what miracles
You can achieve
When you believe
Somehow you will
You will when you believe
In this time of fear
When prayer so often
proved in vain
Hope seemed like the
summer birds
Too swiftly flown away
Yet now I'm standing here
With heart so full
I can't explain
Seeking faith and
speaking words
I never thought I'd say
There can be miracles
When you believe
Though hope is frail
It's hard to kill
Who knows what miracles
You can achieve
When you believe
Somehow you will
You will when you believe……
"What do you mean?" I asked, my curiosity rising once more. I hated it when Galadriel was cryptic.
She didn't answer me. Rather, she hit another button on the remote, and the grisly crime scenes vanished. A series of photographs replaced it, one obviously from a police file, others that seemed totally candid. The unseen camera zoomed closer, capturing a man's face, the subject obviously unaware he was being photographed.
A youngish-looking man, with shaggy brown hair and narrow grey eyes, turning towards the camera as though he sensed something. The image froze, sharpening.
"Soooo..." I asked, my eyes fixed on the image. "Who's this?"
Galadriel switched the image, calling up some sort of profile. "This is Officer Adam Gordon, NYPD, Precinct 111, thirty-one years old, former resident of Paris, currently of Brooklyn."
Elrond had a rather odd expression on his face, one I couldn't immediately place. Fear? Longing?
Hope?
I looked back at the screen; tried to make a connection, but if there was one, it was too vague for me. Then something clicked in my brain. I started to laugh.
Galadriel gave me the *look*, the one she used to use if she didn't like whatever thoughts you were harboring in your twisted little mind. "Pray tell, what is funny?"
"I know this cop. He's the poor guy who watched me resurrect myself after the car hit me in Necropolis. He tried to do CPR. I think he got a bit of a shock."
"How bad was it?"
"Nasty. Lots of blood, broken neck, and distinct lack of pulse. Hurt like hell."
Galadriel shook her head. "Not you, the cop. How badly did you scare him?"
I still didn't understand what she was talking about. "Nothing that a few hours of intense rationalizations wouldn't take care of. I'm sure he could convince himself he'd been hallucinating, or he'd made a false diagnosis."
Galadriel looked encouraged. "Good. That's excellent. Then there is a chance that his mind won't shut down when he learns the truth."
I leaned back in my seat and sighed. "Once more, for the ignorant people?"
Elrond sighed, as though he wasn't really looking forward to this conversation. "Through means and motive that we do not entirely comprehend, Adam Gordon is the reincarnation of Aragorn, son of Arathorn, who ruled the kingdom of Gondor during the Fourth Age of Middle Earth."
I desperately wanted to answer him, but I couldn't quite make my brain form words.
Elrond forged ahead. "In order to balance the powers of Light and Darkness, there have always been the Nine. Those who serve the Dark Lord, and those who would rise against them."
"Wait." I begged, holding up my hand. "The Nine? Do you mean..."
Galadriel nodded. "With the rise of the Dark Lord and his servants, the balance must be restored. The Nine Walkers have returned."
"Like Queen Beruthiel's cat." I supplied helpfully.
Galadriel leveled me with a glare. "No. Not like Queen Beruthiel's cat."
Elrond interceded before I said stupid. "At any rate, we need the Fellowship of old to combat the threat posed by the Dark Lord and his minions. Guess what *you* get to do?"
I looked at the screen, the grey-eyed officer glaring back at me. Somehow, dragging the personality of a long-dead King of Men from this cynical, thirty-something cop filled me with a vague sense of dread. This guy wasn't the man I'd once known, the King for whom I'd have gladly sacrificed myself. I had a feeling this cop would rather put me through a wall before he'd accept that he was a reincarnated hero who was expected to, once again, save the world.
Can't imagine why.
Suddenly, the rational center of my mind took to the wind. What the hell? I missed my friends; they'd been dead and gone for far too long. Memories like that don't just fade away. I'd be willing to do *anything* Galadriel and Elrond asked, even if it meant going on another godawful *quest*, if it meant I could have them back.
"Is that why I'm here?" I asked, glancing once more at the screen. "You need me to reassemble the Fellowship."
"Yes." said Galadriel. "You are, quite literally, the only person the others would listen to."
My eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. How do you know all this?"
Galadriel inclined her head towards the door behind the palm tree. "I still have my mirror, you know. After practicing for thirty-thousand years, you get *really* good at interpretation."
"Oh. So how do you know they'll listen to me? I have no desire to spend the next few years in a room with bars on the window and no handle on the door."
"Well..." Elrond looked uncomfortable. "We're not exactly sure. In all likelihood, the memories are there, just submerged. They should remember with a bit of prodding."
"What if they don't?"
"Then you improvise."
This did not boost my confidence whatsoever.
But to Elrond and Galadriel, the conversation was apparently over. They rose, and having no choice, I stood as well. "We'll have Glorfindel and Haldir brief you on all the information we've collected on the reincarnated Fellowship members." said Galadriel, leading me towards the door. "Then, the twins can give you a ride back to New York so you can get started on finding them."
"Once you've found and convinced the people in the bios, we'll be in touch." He paused, and looked me in the eye. "Be on your guard, Legolas. The darkness is rising."
"I will," I nodded, with the calm air of someone who *knows* he's already in over his head.
Elrond opened the door to let me out, then paused as a thought seemed to strike him. "Was it you?" he asked seriously.
"Pardon?"
"Did you tell Tolkien?"
Oh. Oh. "No, I didn't. But I liked the books. Quite flattering, really."
Galadriel sighed. "I've lost the pool, then. I bet it was you."
I laughed. "You know, I always did wonder who sat down and told Tolkien the entire story. Bet they were drunk."
"Probably. Good luck, Legolas."
I walked out into the hall, but as I rounded the corner, a touch of mischief made me call back over my shoulder: "Ai! Ai, a Balrog is come!" I used my best doom-and-despair voice, then took off running down the hall. What can I say? I loved that line. Don't quite remember saying it, but who cares? Made for good atmosphere.
Behind me, I heard Elrond laughing.
**********
I found Glorfindel hunched by the elevator, hyperventilating. His carved Elven dagger was embedded in the wall, clear up to the hilt. Haldir was standing beside him, patting him worriedly on the shoulder. He gave me a pointed look.
"Oops." I said, somewhat sheepishly.
"That...wasn't...nice." Glorfindel gasped.
"Sorry." I'd forgotten that the golden-haired Eldar wasn't overly fond of Balrogs. Quite a natural reaction, given the circumstances.
I grasped the hilt of his knife and pulled it out of the woodwork. "This is yours, I take it."
Glorfindel snatched the blade from my hand and brandished it threateningly. It might have been scary, but for the grin on his face.
A new voice called from down the corridor. "Hey! Brutus! You can't kill Caesar yet, we haven't had our revenge on him!"
I turned, and was suddenly engulfed in a double embrace. Elladan and Elrohir, the twin sons of Elrond. More old friends.
Elrohir hooked his arm around my neck playfully. "How dare you go and vanish for a few hundred years? You didn't even call!"
Elladan joined in, flipping his long, dark hair over his shoulders. "Poor Da's been absolutely heartbroken. You should've seen him and Galadriel, sending out the intel' mission, looking for you-"
"Wondering where the hell you are, wondering if you're ever going to surface and drag your sorry ass back here-"
"Must be a blonde thing. You never see such wandering behaviour in the Noldorians-"
"Most unnatural."
"Quite."
"Okay, okay!" I laughed, shrugging Elrohir off. "I'm sorry I was gone so long. Oh, and you'd better watch the blond comments, Haldir and Glorfindel over there might take offense."
"I don't listen to them," Haldir said smugly. "Everyone knows they're just jealous."
"Hey!"
"We resent that, you peroxide bimbo!"
Glorfindel stepped in. "Play nice, kids," he said, catching hold of my arm. "Legolas, we've got some personal profiles to brief you on. The twins will fly you back to New York later."
"By the Valar, in a helicopter piloted by those two. Maybe I'll walk."
Haldir grinned. "Come on, we've got work to do. If you're a good little princeling, maybe Glorfindel and I will come back to the city to keep you company."
I rolled my eyes. "Great. I'm doomed."