Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. (Apart from Emáten) I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.

Lil*bee: Yay! You return! I'm glad you liked that part- it was fun to write. Hmm...I enjoy getting people angry...worrying...

Shirebound: I love that part. I guess that it was probably the inspiration for Aragorn's outburst- I'm happy that it worked out

Alatariel: Ah, the wild countryside of the computer-room. No, I haven't been spying on you *hides camera behind back and promptly throws several photographs in the bin* :-) ARG! No! Please! Don't hurt us! They're working on it, I swear they are! You'll get your Fellowship

Crazytook: Yay for your lovely review! I'm pleased you liked the Nazgul part- that was confusing to write. It was originally the witchking but Eowyn definitely killed him. Yes, I like the idea that the Nazgul still retain some human qualities from when they were mortal kings. This is so great that you're enjoying this!

Koko Kung: Yes! Yes! I want piccy...Don't worry, my computer had a nervous breakdown last night (and my dog is having a mid-life crisis) and the internet decided I was not worth serving. Good. I am getting scared that I am the only one who sleeps!

Mistoffelees: You're so mean to Merry! You want him to be sad? I want Delver to be sad. I'll kick him out a high window or something... More is coming! More is coming!

ViNguyen: Yep, Aragorn is a king now and he has a temper. Damn though. Yet another FREE person. I'm still 13. I live in England. And I'm still slogging away in school. Bleah

MagicalRachel: Yay for evil Nazgûl! Hope you had a great time in Northampton- sounded like fun. You don't like evil flame-eyed Frodo? Some of my best friends are corrupted Ringbearers! I apologise if Bag End does not appear quite so frequently from now on but every single character seems to have stopped there so far. I can't imagine what Rosie would be like if she got Galadriel, Celeborn and Elrond on her doorstep! Happy? Me? Heaven forbid!

Skye: Bad life, down boy. Sorry, he does that a lot. :-) I adored Imprisonment and it was worth the wait, trust me. I don't give people enough anticipation time. Yeah, go evil Frodo! A little bundle of nerves and fire. I have to say, I'm not Pippin's greatest fan- I prefer his character in the book. I don't think I do some characters justice and Pippin's one of them. Yay for Bag End! I wonder if an evil Bag End would be better as well?

The thirtieth chapter! We hit the thirtieth chapter!

~ Chapter Thirty ~

Moro looked up from his third pint of ale and saw a tall, cloaked figure wearing a pointed hat come through the inn door. He blinked and squinted his eyes. He banged his head on the table then looked again. The figure was still there. Moro got up and left the Green Dragon on legs of water, deciding that this was becoming a little much.

Gandalf gazed round the battered inside of the Dragon, smiling widely. It was so much like home to him. The hobbits talking and laughing around the room. Then someone cried,

"Well, I'll be! Gandalf, we thought you upped and left us!"

The wizard glanced to where the voice came from. The bartender was beaming at him.

"Anything to drink, Gandalf?" he asked. Gandalf shook his head.

"No, I must be getting on to Bag End," he said.

"Oh go on. On the house for an old friend, what do you say?"

"Well, alright. But I cannot stay too long."

Morning lingered. The wizard drank and spoke amiably with old friends from Hobbiton and Bywater. But true to his word, after his drink, he got up to go. He reached for the door handle when there was a sudden shriek overhead. Piercing the day like a blade. The door crashed open and Gandalf stumbled backwards. A small hobbit ran inside, slammed the entrance shut and bolted it. There was another scream that reverberated deep inside them all. The bartender dropped to his knees. The guests clustered together in a corner, terrified by the sounds. But Gandalf recognised it. And it filled him with a greater fear than he had ever known.

"Bilbo..."

He hauled himself to his feet and set about drawing the bolts back. The hobbit who had come in tried desperately to stop him. He was gasping for breath and his face was pale as snow.

"No, sir, no! You mustn't go out there! It's terrible! Please, it'll catch you."

"Where was it heading?" the wizard asked, "Where was this thing going?"

"It's just spiralling above. Going round and round...sir, no! You can't- please, come back!"

But Gandalf was running outside now, clutching his staff to him and his eyes fixed on the sky just overhead. There was a shriek and he spun round. There, like a black stain on the bright air, was the Nazgûl. It levelled out so that the dragon's eyes met with Gandalf's. The rider upon its back stared at him unseeingly, straight through him, as if it could see all his thoughts and emotions with a mere glance. There was no time for spells or curses. There was no time at all. The Nazgûl was diving. The jaws drew back to show teeth like swords and the wings filled with air like great raven sails.

Gandalf ran. Along the narrow path and up the slope leading to Bag End. But he could not lead it there! Not to Bilbo. He changed his course and set out across the fields. Already he was coming short of breath and the dragon swooped close overhead, its claws barely missing him. Gandalf slid down an embankment and found himself in one of Farmer Maggot's enclosures. He clambered over a fallen tree and passed like fire across the meadow. The house loomed up before him. He ducked into the shadow and groped his way round until he found the front door. The Nazgûl shrieked again, so close this time. Gandalf threw himself through the door and collapsed in the hallway. Without a second thought, he gripped his staff tight then whirled back around and cried,

"Kal!"

Light exploded from the end of his staff, rushing out in a powerful tidal wave to engulf the immense form at the doorway. It screeched in agony as the light seared its eyes. The rider hauled its steed backwards, trying to escape the hideous brightness. They rose up into the sky until only a tiny pinprick remained.

Gandalf sat gasping for a long while, feeling his heart pounding and thoughts clamouring. At last, with a great sigh, he got to his feet and for a moment looked down the hall. Farmer Maggot and his wife were standing there, clutching each other in terror, staring at the strange man that now stood in their house.

--

Sam felt sick. His head was still reeling from his fall and he had no idea how he could have survived it. But here he was.

"Perhaps I was sent back...like Gandalf," he said aloud, mostly to keep himself company in the dark refines of his mind, "But why? He was sent back to save Middle-Earth. Maybe...maybe I was sent back to save my master. Why else?"

Slowly, the world trickled into focus. The trees and sky above.

"Well, I'll go and save him. Afterall, it was my fault. And what if that filthy Black Rider goes back for him? Oh, Samwise, you oaf! Come on, you've got to find him!"

The little hobbit sat up dazedly. Everything was going round very slowly. It made his stomach lurch. But, iron-willed as always, he struggled to his feet. He leant heavily on a tree to one side as he staggered about, trying to get his balance.

"Come on! Mister Frodo needs me now!"

Sam staggered to the next tree and the next. Using each pillar-like trunk for support, he worked his way along a straight route that he hoped would eventually lead him out. He did not know where he was or what was going on beyond this forest. But he did know that he had to get to Frodo. So on he went, searching for the end to the bracken-y maze. The ground was drenched from rain and snowfall and often great piles of frost would slip from a branch and shatter amongst the ferns, making Sam leap with fear every time.

"But this shouldn't be," he croaked. He swallowed hard and brushed a hand over his eyes. "No, it shouldn't. We got rid of any evil in this world. It's all dead. Apart from a Black Rider, we're still alright. And no orc is going to jump out on me now. My masters come home. He's waiting for me somewhere. And I'll warrant Emáten's looking after him just fine. So stop your worrying, Sam and go and find your friends."

With fresh hope, the hobbit went on into the wintry wood, almost invisible against the dark earth and undergrowth. With no provisions or companions. Sam carried only hope.

~

Ooh, yay, longness. Kal, by the way, is elvish for "light" or "shine". I'm really sorry but on Sunday, I am going away for ten days to St Lucia. Thank goodness, a holiday at last! I just really hope that Frodo doesn't get his revenge on me and send the Nazgûl after the plane...I have deeply disturbing fantasies...