By Verbosity
Hey people, I'm back.
I feel the need to apologize to everyone for the hideously long waits between chapters. I've never been the fastest writer, and everything happening in life just seems to slow me down more.
The latest part of the life saga is that I think I have mono. At least that's what it resembles, and its been kicking my ass for the last three weeks. "sigh" I should probably go to the doctor… after all, if I die before I finish the story it would be a bad thing.
Anyway, you all don't want to hear about that.
The story should move faster during the travels and then slow down a bit in Moria and Lothlorien but I don't think either of those will be as interaction dense as Rivendell. After all that is where the setup for the rest of the story occurs.
The company did not leave immediately on the quest, for it was deemed by Aragorn and Gandalf that it would be wise to gather word of the Black Riders and the happenings of the lands about before they set out upon their journey. And so scouts were sent out from Rivendell into the wilds, in all directions east and south, go gather information upon the routes the fellowship might choose.
The days passed, one flowing on into another, and Andromeda spent time with those who were to be her companions, coming to understand their moods and habits. These people were different from the High Guard crewmembers she had before the period spent behind the event horizon of the singularity. In many ways they were more like the crew she had inherited from the Eureka Maru. Much like Harper, Beka, Rev, Tyr, and Trance, each of her new companions was unique and very much an individual, yet somehow she sensed that they would, like her crew, find a way to work together and be stronger than even they knew.
There were afternoons with the dwarves conversing on various subjects of craft, and Andromeda gained some understanding of their character. They took delight in the beauty of things crafted by their own hands and had a fierce love the things they considered theirs, be it gold, treasure, or family and good friends. Once they set their minds about something it took a great deal to change it. It was also, she had to admit, gratifying to be admired for simply what she was.
A fair time she spent in the company of the hobbits, with their relaxed conversations after meals smoking pipeweed. Their incorrigible good nature was something she marveled at; they were as determinedly cheerful as Trance. Merry and Pippin were full of questions and all the hobbits listened quite curiously to her answers. Sam seemed at first overawed and deferential. After some time the awe faded, but he never quite lost the deferential aspect, it being, as he put it, "Beggin your pardon, but only the proper attitude to have to a lady, even if she is a warrior and all." As to Frodo, she was a little concerned about him. He interacted normally with everyone, as far as she could tell, but there were moments when his gaze would turn inward and she would see him fingering the object under his shirt, on the chain around his neck. She supposed it was possible she was being a little over-sensitive with the warnings that Gandalf had given her about the Ring. She hoped she was.
A great many hours were spent with Aragorn, Boromir, and Legolas learning of weapons and woodcraft. Legolas taught her to use a bow and she was forced to come up with a surprisingly complex set of ballistics equations to get the arrow to go where she wanted it. Once she had succeeded though, the elf was startled at how accurately she could place an arrow.
When the elf had commented at Aragorn's unsurprised demeanor the ranger had replied with a solemn sort of amusement, "I have made a vow to never be surprised by anything that she does. Likely it is a promise doomed to be broken, but I will try."
Boromir's introduction to her fighting skills came at the instigation of Aragorn, who believed that the warrior needed a shock to jolt him over his preconceptions about Andromeda. The sparring session was brief, as Andromeda proceeded to disarm the three of them without using any weapon at all. Boromir had lain flat on his back, the breath knocked out of him, his hand stinging from when she had ripped the sword from his grasp, as she had reached out her hand to help him up. He had stared at her for moment before hesitantly taking it and she tugged him easily to his feet.
That had been the end of his protests against her participation within the Fellowship but he had been distant and, sometimes hesitant, sometimes brusque, in his interactions with her. It worried Andromeda as she had learned through hard experience that dissention within a group that needed to work smoothly as a unit was a very bad thing.
Finally, she had spent many long quiet evenings, and afternoon walks through the winding paths of the valley, with Gandalf.
It was strange, Andromeda had never had a relationship quite like the one she now did with the old wizard. She had been adult from her first conscious moment. She didn't have parents, either a father or a mother. There were other AI's in the Argosy, who had been in service for centuries, to whom she had gone for advice and guidance. But never anyone similar to how she felt about Gandalf. With him it had become more personal than just a mentor. Her forced isolation from anything she knew combined with his ready support and understanding of her alien nature had formed a bond between them that was more like that of a parent and child than any she had ever known.
* * *
As Boromir's uncomfortable behavior around her continued, Andromeda finally broached the subject with Aragorn one brilliant fall morning and the ranger had tried to explain the man's behavior.
"He does not know how to react to you Andromeda," he said as they stood upon the balcony overlooking the river. "You are a woman, and that evokes a certain manner from him." He stopped her with an upraised hand when she made as if to speak. "As you have said, it is different with your people, but I speak of Gondor and the customs of that land. There, and indeed in most of Middle-Earth, women are to be protected. Even among the elves, a woman warrior is a rare thing. You look much as the race of Man, yet you are not. He has seen some measure of your speed and strength," he smiled slightly. "As you have disarmed all of us in practice, but even so, I do not believe that the knowledge that your nature is other than that of Man is entirely...real...to him yet. His mind knows one truth, but his heart responds to what he has been taught."
He paused as Andromeda mulled it over and, leaning against the railing, he continued. "The knowledge that you are a fellow warrior demands a far different response than the one provoked by your appearance. It seems that he finds it difficult to reconcile the differing messages his mind and his teaching have given him. My advice to you: simply be as you are. For that is what he must come to accept."
Andromeda sighed a little, "So, keep on doing what I'm doing and let him work his issues out?"
Aragorn gave a slight smile at the turn of phrase and nodded, "Yes."
"Do you think it would help to spend time with him more regularly? As it is he tends to avoid me every chance he gets."
"Mayhap. But beware of pushing him too hard. If it becomes necessary Gandalf or I will speak with him on the matter."
* * *
One lazy evening after the dinner meal Gandalf and Andromeda had retired to the Hall of Fire to talk. They had found Aragorn and Arwen already there and the four of them had conversed for several long hours. The midnight hour had passed and both Aragorn and Arwen had retired when the conversation between the wizard and Android turned to darker matters. The Black Riders, Andromeda had learned, would not have been destroyed in the flood, merely unhorsed and disembodied. They would have been greatly inconvenienced, but not killed. When Gandalf told her of this he spoke also of the nature of the Enemy: of Sauron, of the Nazgul, and of the others who served them.
As she listened to him describe exactly what Sauron was a growing sense of unease built up inside her. Not the best person to have hacked off, she thought, and from what Gandalf says, killing a Nazgul probably did just that.
She was also taken by surprise by the revelation that Gandalf's own nature was similar to that of Sauron.
Staring at him in surprise, she said, "You're a Maiar? I thought...Aragorn said you were something called an Istari."
"Istari, or wizards, as Men call us, are but Maiar who have been sent to Middle-Earth for the purpose of opposing Sauron. We are of the same order of spirits as he, but of lesser degree, and there are constrains placed upon us. Our bodies are subject to all the same limitations as Man, save we do not grow sick and we do not grow older."
Andromeda leaned back into the chair as she took another reading of him with her active sensors. Sensing this, he just cocked his head to the side and continued to regard her calmly.
"Your basic physical structure is human, though I can't resolve genetic structure or cellular functioning without a medical scanner."
Gandalf quirked an eyebrow at the unfamiliar words.
Andromeda waved it aside, "The meanings don't matter, and they're probably not relevant anyway. The part I can't make sense out of is the energy reading I get from you. My sensors tell me it's there, but they can't tell me anything else about it."
Gandalf nodded, "The energy of your...sensors," he carefully pronounced the strange word. "Is of the material world. The energy of my being only intersects this world, it is not of it."
Andromeda considered that for a moment then shook her head, "I don't think I'm going to try to unravel the full implications of that at the moment. That's a conversation you should be having with Rev Bem."
"Rev Bem...the companion of yours who was the...Magog?" Gandalf questioned after a moments thought.
"That would be the one. His knowledge was in the area of the structure of the universe, or theoretical astrophysics."
Andromeda was silent for long moments, staring at the fire crackling in the hearth. "So that's what you meant when you implied you could probably understand my origins." She turned her gaze back to him, questioning, "You existed completely as energy...spirit...at one time?"
Gandalf nodded, and smiled a little, "At one time, and continue to even now. This body is just that: a body. Much in the sense, as you have told me, that you are inhabiting that form."
"Of course, my existence is dependant upon having something to exist in, whether it be a computer network or a neural net, take it away and I cease to be."
Gandalf looked at her sharply as she said this, with an expression that hinted of disagreement, and seemed about to speak.
"What is it?" she asked after his silence had stretched into long moments.
He remained silent, looking at her for another moment, then simply gave her a gentle smile and shook his head, "An argument for later time." The wizard rose to his feet, "For now, dear lady, I must obtain at least a few hours of sleep before the morning, for this body is constrained by such things, even if yours is not."
She smiled up at him, "I'll see you later in the day then?"
"Certainly, and I believe that Elrond wished to discuss the route of our journey. Some of the scouts sent out have returned sooner than hoped."
* * *
The summons to a meeting with Elrond came in the form of Aragorn knocking at her door in the late morning.
"Andromeda?"
The android was already moving toward the door when the ranger called her name. Opening it a moment later she looked up at him with a smile, "Meeting time?"
"Yes. It begins in a candle mark. Are you ready?"
"Of course."
There were less people at the meeting than the council and it consisted mostly of several of the elder elves, Elrond, Gandalf, Aragorn, and two Men dressed similarly to how Aragorn when he arrived at Rivendell.
Making the logical assumption Andromeda murmured a question to Aragorn as they moved to the table the others were gathered round. "Rangers?"
"Yes, the Dunedain."
They were welcomed into the group at the table and the discussion commenced upon the subject of the route the company was to take. Options were outlined upon the maps spread upon the table and as each route was suggested it was evaluated.
Hours passed and for the most part Andromeda simply listened occasionally making an observation when it seemed she had an understanding or idea appropriate to the situation. Her extensive tactical knowledge was of limited use, as it was applicable to situations far different then the one now facing them. She felt she was able to make some small contribution nonetheless.
In the end the choices were narrowed to three: the pass of Caradhras, the Gap of Rohan, and Moria.
"I do not trust to the crossing of Rohan," said Aragorn. "Not since the news you have brought of Saruman, and Moria...that is a dark road indeed."
"Then you would urge the crossing of the mountains by the pass of Caradhras?" Elrond spoke quietly.
The ranger sighed, "I think no good of any road ahead of us, but perhaps the least ill of that one."
Gandalf nodded his eyes upon the map. "I think that Caradhras it must be, though a difficult road it may prove in the end."
Elrond glancing around the table saw no dissention among those gathered, and drawing a deep breath said, "So be it. The time of the Fellowships departure must be soon before the pass is buried in the winter snows. In seven days the Fellowship will depart."
The company about the table rose and Aragorn moved to the two rangers and drew them into a corner for speech. Andromeda stepped over to where Gandalf and Elrond stood and listened.
"...the way under the mountains." Elrond was finishing a sentence.
There was a considering look in Gandalf's eyes, "Perhaps, but I see only a great darkness upon that road, and beyond, all is hidden from me. But enough, it is not the road we have chosen."
Seeing the weight of care and worry in the old wizard Andromeda wished briefly that the rest of her "self" was here. The solution to their problems would be so much simpler then.
Elrond apparently saw something in the expression upon her face for he asked, "Do you have a thought lady Andromeda?"
"Nothing useful. I was just wishing I had my full resources here. If I were home I could simply lob enough weaponry at him to blast him out of existence, and be done with the whole issue."
Elrond shook his head, "Some problems cannot be solved through the application of force. Sauron is of the Maiar: one of the spirits from before the creation of the world. You would be hard pressed to find a weapon that could truly kill him."
Just then Erestor called to him from across the room, and giving a nod to Gandalf and Andromeda, he moved away to speak to the other elf.
Andromeda watched as Elrond walk away and though it was not meant for his ears, Gandalf caught the muttered words, "Oh I don't know. Saturation bombing with antimatter weapons solves lots of problems."
* * *
Boromir wandered aimlessly down the lantern lit paths of the gardens, his thoughts continuing to return to the one subject they had been circling like the Crebain of Dunland: Andromeda. She confused him, her very nature was a contradiction, a quandary of a type he had never before been forced to deal with.
First he thought of her as a woman. She had greeted him upon his arrival in Rivendell and though she seemed strange of manner she was quite obviously a woman. Later he found she was also a warrior, and not of Man, or Elven, or Dwarfish nature but something completely different: something strange and quite alien, and yet in the form of something very familiar.
She fought, oh how she fought! It had been many long years since he had been bested so swiftly in battle and with such ease. He had been hesitant to strike at her in spite of Aragorn's encouragement, and when he had, she had moved with blinding swiftness, tearing the sword from his grasp as if he had been but a child and hurling him to the ground even as she had turned upon Aragorn and Legolas.
Further time practicing had given him a uneasy respect of her speed and strength, both far in excess of any being he had ever encountered. He tried to treat her as a warrior, but every time he looked upon her he saw a woman, and the thought of the two as the same disturbed him. It had been easier to try and avoid interaction with her, and he had the impression that she had been assisting him in that to make him more comfortable. It shamed him that he had been unable to face the conflict within himself.
Of late though, she had been crossing paths with him more often, and he forced himself to interact with her. Maddeningly, instead of helping, it reinforced both sides of his perception. There were moments when she would make an observation, or comment, no man ever would and others when the words that she spoke sounded like the ones he had heard spoken by the guardsmen and warriors of Gondor.
He had watched as she talked and worked with the others. She learned eagerly, seemingly without any pride to prevent her from saying, "I don't know." She showed great knowledge in many subjects, more seemingly, in some cases, than even such as Gandalf or Elrond, but she knew so little in others. She was a paradox and he found himself both baffled and strangely fascinated.
Sighing, he looked up at the night sky. The stars away from the house were crisp and clear, shining brightly in the black firmament. There was just enough light from the moon low on the horizon for him to discern his way along the shadowed path. A small clearing opened ahead and he stepped into it. The trees cast their shadows, burying one side of the clearing in darkness, and unable to see the ground in front of him he stumbled on an uneven stretch.
"Careful," a quiet voice came from the deep shadows of the clearing side. "There's an uneven patch for about a stride in front of you."
His head turned toward the speaker even as he identified the voice as belonging to the object of his confusion. "Lady Andromeda?"
"Yes, Boromir?" Her voice emanated from the area of deepest shadow in the clearing.
He felt his way carefully closer, his eyes slowly coming to see a large dark hulk about waist high. It was a boulder, sunk partway into the ground, and there upon it was a vaguely perceived form that he now realized was Andromeda, sitting upon its flat top.
She was sitting out here in the dark, alone, and Boromir surprised himself by finding he was concerned. As he came to stand next to the boulder he asked, "Are you well?"
He couldn't quite make out her face, but from her orientation he though it was turned toward him.
"As well as can be," she said, and her face turned up toward the sky. "I'm just looking for home."
"Looking for home?" He felt confused by her response, as he so often did.
"The stars," she said. "I'm searching for familiar star patterns to try and ascertain my location." The tone of her voice changed then, becoming lower, with almost a note of hopelessness in it. "Not that I really expect to find anything. I've already run all of the permutations. So, I'm not really sure why I'm still out here."
Boromir didn't understand everything she had said, but he understood the tone, and thought that perhaps, even if he could not settle upon her being a warrior and woman, he could for the moment acknowledge her as a companion that needed someone to simply be...a friend.
Almost hesitantly he put his hands out, feeling his way in the darkness and as he felt a sudden guiding hand take hold of his arm, he took a brief moment to wonder at her ability to see in the deep shadow. Sitting next to her he sensed her eyes upon him as he settled onto his seat.
Looking up at the stars he spoke. "Tell me of your home Lady, and I will speak of mine. Perhaps in the telling, we can both assuage some of our longing for our homes."
She was silent for a long moment and then she began to speak, and Boromir listened, as her pleasant voice spoke simply and feelingly of her home. Wrapped in the first glimmerings of companionship the two sat long into the night trading stories and gazing at the distant stars.
* * *
The Nazgul's hissing voice filled the chamber and even the monstrous thing of bone and muscle caged in the center cringed back from it. Faced with the black thing, the Numenorian searched his soul for the fear the other lesser beings around him felt when faced with the Ringwraiths, and found no fear, no horror, simply nothing. All inside him was empty. Dead. The Nazgul's chilling voice continued, carefully describing the being that had killed it's brethren, and the man felt a brief flicker of something once again stir in the abyss of his soul.
Feeling: a thing both hated and hoped for, invaded the icy purity of desolation within him, causing both desire for, and a wish for the annihilation, of this nearly forgotten sensation. Conflicting emotions warred within him, his hatred of feeling as intense as his hunger for it.
Moments later the Nazgul left the room, a shadow seeming to leave with it. The Numenorian barely noticed. The Great Lord had instructed him to prepare something special for the one who had killed the Ringwraith. He had been told of the being's unique nature, and though there was little that moved him any longer, a being that could kill one of the Nine as easily as this one had...that captured his interest as nothing else in long years. Anything that stirred that empty husk that was his soul was a thing he desired and hated, for it both reminded him of what he had once had, and gave him some illusion of being alive again.
He turned back toward the mountain of muscle, claws, and teeth that occupied the center of the room. Merely one of the creatures of his menagerie that he had been preparing for the task ahead. There were several more in the cages in the levels below. He had no illusions that he could create such things as Melkor once did in the depth of time, but observing the slavering beast in front of him, who's restlessly moving claws dug grooves into the stone of the floor, he knew what skill he possessed would be more than sufficient.
Sauron had spoken. The one who had killed his servant must be brought before him or destroyed.
* * *
So it was that the company set out on a cold stormy gray afternoon at the end of December. The East wind drove the low ragged clouds overhead and rustled through the dark restless pines of the hills. They stepped upon the path out of the valley at the hour of dusk, for it was counseled by Elrond that they should make use of the night to hide their departure from Rivendell.
Andromeda, consulting with Aragorn, made sure to pack extra food and supplies into her burden, as the weight wouldn't slow her down at all. In the process she had let slip to him that she had no need to pack food for her self as didn't need to eat. The ranger had gone still in surprise and stared at her almost incredulously for a moment, and then shook his head ruefully. Her ears picked up his mutter, "Broken already."
Standing in the courtyard Andromeda glanced round at the other members of the company around. Aragorn sat a little off to the side, his head bowed upon his knees. Andromeda thought she had some small idea of how painful it was for him to leave here, and had seen him speaking to Arwen some minutes before. She glanced up at the gray sky as a particularly powerful gust of wind rattled the tree branches overhead.
In spite of her resolve to help her friends, she still felt a reluctance to leave Rivendell. Perhaps it was because she had grown familiar with this place and had used it as something to cling to when cast adrift.
In any case, she thought, it won't stop me from doing my duty. Or what I perceive as it anyway.
Gandalf finally exited the house accompanied by Elrond and the company gathered round.
Their goodbyes had been said, and Elrond spoke to them of the journey and trials that lay ahead. At the last, with a final farewell he sent them upon their way. Many members of the Household stood quietly among the porches and balconies of the house as the members of the Fellowship passed by and their voices followed, bidding farewell as the small group journeyed into the deepening twilight. Andromeda noticed that the song and music that had been so prevalent all the time she had been there was gone, but for the farewells, all voices were silent.
Crossing the bridge they made their way up the steep winding paths out of the valley of Rivendell and at last they came out upon the high moor with the heather whispering quietly about their legs.
Andromeda dropped rearward, past Aragorn and Boromir, to the back of the Fellowship as they cleared the edge of the valley. She could see her companions and everything about her as easily as if it were day, benefits of electronic eyes, and she stopped at the rim of the valley to look down into it for long seconds. Then on impulse shifted her vision to the normal human spectrum. The night immediately closed in about, and there, nestled in the valley was the Last Homely House. Twinkling in the darkness with a hopeful golden light.
That was what it meant to her, she suddenly realized, all of her reluctance to leave crystallizing in a single clear moment. She had associated it with the way home. Irrational, illogical, emotional, but true, and it was time to let it go.
She had stood silently looking back into the valley for nearly a minute when Boromir, glancing back, noticed she had stopped, and halted.
"Lady? His voice was questioning.
Aragorn hearing Boromir's voice also looked back.
She continued to look into the valley for a moment, and then turned away. "It's nothing Boromir," she said. There was a brief pause and when she spoke again her voice was almost a whisper, "Just giving up on going home." She gave him a tight smile as she turned back to the path and moved past him. Moving ahead, she did not see the expression of understanding and sadness that passed across Boromir's face as the looked at her retreating figure. The two men's gazes met, uncrowned king and stewards son, each seeing a similar sadness in the other's gaze, and then after a moment they turned and followed her slender form.
