Epilogue
A Meeting of Legends
When the lift doors opened, depositing them on the surface once again, Miranda was certain that they would have to fight their way out of the mansion in the same manner they had departed the underground realm of Moria. However, instead of being confronted with the enemy, they instead face a corridor full of smoke. It appeared that the distraction they had used to lure the enemy away had taken on a life of its own and the smoke filling their noses with its noxious fumes was evidence of the raging inferno sweeping through the building. If there was anyone left in the building, they were most likely more concerned with saving their own skins rather than engaging the intruders who had caused the blaze in the first instance.
Nevertheless, Miranda was still ready for trouble when she emerged, her eyes trying its hardest to see through the smoke while the gun before her ensured that any danger would be met with deadly force. She stepped forward slowly, gesturing the others to stay back for the moment before placing her hand against the wall of the corridor and detecting immediately the heat that was radiating through the stone. Her pulse quickened, realising that all that stood between them and the inferno were the barrier of walls enclosing them on either side. The thickness of the smoke indicated the intensity of the fire. There was not much time. They had to get out while they still could.
"We have to hurry!" She shouted at the others. "The fire is on the other side of that wall!"
"We're right behind you luv," Frank coughed as his eyes began to sting. "Go ahead and clear the way!"
Miranda nodded, trying to focus as she jogged down the corridor. The smoke thinned further along and allowed her to see shapes in the swirls of grey. Miranda glanced over her shoulder as she continued ahead, ensuring that the others were behind her. The smoke was burning its way through her lungs and as she forced herself not to cough, her thoughts filled with concerns with Sam. His weakened state could not endure the danger of smoke inhalation as well as the wounds he already suffered.
Reaching the corner, she saw the shape of someone moving past and acted before the new arrival could react. Slamming the butt of her weapon into his face, she felt the shattering of bone as he stumbled back. A running kick delivered swiftly after ensured that when he fell, he did not again get up. Miranda did not pause to check how badly she had injured him, caring only that the way for the others was clear. While Elladan and Elrohir could probably see better than she did, Miranda knew that they were almost out of arrows, if not already and the twins had no wish to use the guns.
Apparently, they found it lacking in elegance; she thought sarcastically.
Arriving at the foyer of the building, Miranda saw that it was the primary source of the fire. Flames from the explosion along the columns had spread across the roof. She looked up the staircase to the upper floors and knew that they were most likely lost to the fire. It was slowly making its way down the walls. She was rather surprised that no fire people were on the premises. After all, the Harz Mountains were not the peaks they were when Moria was inhabited by dwarfs. A fire like this could be seen from kilometres away.
"Hurry!" She called out to the others, not liking the flames overhead and what it was doing to the ceiling. "This place could collapse at any minute!"
Even as she spoke the words, she heard the creak of wood and knew that any minute was sooner than she liked. She could see floor boards and support beams disintegrating under tongues of orange flames. There was no one left in the place because the building was a blaze and unless they got out of here immediately, it would be the pyre of their deaths. The others reached her at that point and discovered the same thing she did. The door lay before them, unattended and the only means of escape. Miranda hurried out first, taking up her role to ensure the path before them was clear.
Beyond the door, she saw that there were fire crews outside, battling the fire from a safer distance because it was simply too dangerous for anyone to be inside the building. Undoubtedly, the ease of their exit from the lift to this point could be attributed to its evacuation. She saw henchman gathering outside, dealing with the locals and trying to portray the illusion that this mansion was nothing but the playground of a rich, corporate tycoon and not the haven for ancient creatures of shadow and evil. The confusion masked their exit as they hurried out the door into the grounds.
"Christ, I didn't realise we made that much of a mess," Eric muttered as he paused and saw the amber glow that filled the night sky. The top of the mansion was ablaze despite the fire crew's best efforts to douse the flames. Beyond the walls in the grounds of the estate, local authorities and Malcolm Industry's staff generated a further sense of chaos that lent very well to their departure. It was an advantage that Miranda did not intend to waste.
"Never underestimate how useful explosives are," Miranda retorted as they bounded down the steps.
"Where is the van?" Frank asked, trying not to look when they passed the parking lot where Irina Sadko had met her end. He shuddered inwardly, remembering that the blood on his clothes was hers. He wondered what the Nazgul had done with the body. With the fire blazing through the building, he supposed it was a moot point since the fire was a convenient way for them to rid themselves of her corpse.
"Just beyond the tree line," Jason answered, taking a greedy gulp of fresh air. He saw the twins indulging themselves in the same way, trying to erase the fetid stench of dank air that had overwhelmed them below.
"Let's get going," Frank urged, glancing briefly at Sam before experiencing a deep ache of worry for his son's survival.
They slipped away from the grounds of the mansion, bathed in amber light and ensuring that they kept out of sight of the enemy. Even if they were discovered, Malcolm Industries would be reluctant to engage in any gunplay because of the civilian authorities that were present attempting to control the fire. For the moment at least, they had reached a curious sort of stalemate. Frank was certain that the company would continue to thrive and the enemy would seek other ways to reclaim their master. However, the next attempt would involve none of his family, of that he was certain.
****************
"Where are we going?" Jason asked as he slipped into the driver's seat of the van upon reaching the vehicle.
Through the windscreen, he could see the amber radiance of the fire blazing across the sky. From a distance, the damage to the building did not seem so extreme and it only hastened his desire to get away from this place before the enemy recouped from their defeat and took up the chase again. Fortunately, they had provided enough distraction with the burning building to keep Malcolm Industry thugs from discovering their only means of escape.
"Hospital!" Miranda shouted out as she settled Pip in his seat.
"No!" Frank contradicted her immediately. "There's an airfield outside Goslar. I remember seeing it when I took the Nazgul around town trying to stall for time. Head east."
"Airfield?" Miranda met her husband's gaze and protested, "Frank, he needs a doctor now!"
"No doctor is going to save him luv," he declared as he put Sam across the seat. "Morgul said that there was a plane waiting for me to take the Silmaril to Valinor. We're making that trip."
"You wish to journey to Valinor in one of those metals beasts?" Elrohir said shocked beyond belief as the engines of the van rumbled to life beneath them and Eric slid the door closed. As far as he knew, only vessels built by the shipbuilding Teleri could find its way through the curtain between worlds.
"You said it yourself," Frank looked at him as he nestled himself into a seat and strapped the safety belt across his chair. "The only person who can save my son is your father. If it means taking a plane to Valinor, so be it but my son is not going to die, not like this, not as one of them."
There was such fierce determination in his voice that no one dared to say anything in contradiction and Miranda found herself staring at her husband with a feeling of intense love and admiration. He had always been strong but until now, Miranda had not guessed the truth depth of it. He may have known nothing about fighting, or handling a gun but there was power enough to move mountains and she could only stare at in him awe for a moment.
"We do as he says," Miranda agreed, offering her words as a testament to her faith in him.
"Is that possible?" Eric questioned as the car began to move.
"Morgul was quite certain that the Valar would be able detect the Silmaril," Frank explained. "If they detect us, they might let us through."
"And they might not," Elrohir returned. "The ways of the Valar cannot be predicted Frank. If you are wrong..."
"I do not think he is," Elladan broke in. "Earendil was able to find his way to the Undying Lands bearing one of the Silmaril in the First Age, it may be possible to reconstruct his feat in the same way. The Silmaril has been lost to the Valar for many ages but I would not be surprised if they were made aware of its presence when it was awoke."
"But we have to try," Pip spoke up for the first time. He knew it was rude to interrupt his elders but in the litany of words they were speaking, much of which he had not grasped, no one had mentioned anything about Sam. He looked at his brother and knew just as instinctively as his parents that if help were not found soon, Sam would die. The loss was almost beyond Pip's ability to comprehend. It had been torture enough to be without Sam's guidance while they were in that dark place but an entire lifetime without his brother? His mind could not begin to cope with such a loss. "If we don't find help for Sam, he'll die."
Pip's words decided their course far effectively than any debate taking place before him.
"Out of the mouth of babes," Jason said from the driver's seat.
"We have a problem though," Miranda remarked. "I don't know how to fly a plane."
There was a slight pause before Eric spoke up reluctantly. "Well I've got a little flight time with a twin engine Cessna and if I had to, I could manage it. I took it up while I was dating this flight instructor."
"You mean Veronica?" Jason asked as he took the van down the mountain towards Goslar. "The tall blond with the big...."
"Smile," Eric cut him off and gave Miranda a sheepish look. "Big smile. The point is, I can fly a corporate jet which is most likely what this would be."
"We know you can do it," Frank said to him with confidence and because they had no choice but to trust Eric. However, Frank could see the affection in the journalist's eyes not only for Miranda whom he now perceived as his sister but also her two children. He had no doubt that Eric would risk his own life at risk to save them. It was courage Frank could rely on and as he looked at the faces before him, ready to make this journey, he realised that his family had grown.
It was a good feeling.
*************
It was not difficult to find the airfield that was a short distance away from he Hildesheim Military Airfield. Budget cutbacks and changes to governmental policy had seen a large portion of the historical airfield cordoned off for commercial users who rented the space for a hefty sum. It was dark when the van drove through the gates surrounding the airfield that was little more than a hangar situated on a stretch of tarmac. In the distance, they could see the tower lights of airport controllers, supervising the arrival and departure of private aircraft. Malcolm Industries' logo was emblazoned across the hangar doors and as they approached it, saw the silhouette of a Lear 45 jet.
Frank's relief was intense, as he had feared Morgul might have been lying about the plane in an effort to force Frank to capitulate to his demands. Fortunately, the twin engine jet waited for them on the tarmac, its open hatchway furthering the proof of Morgul's words. It was probably the only time the Nazgul had ever been truthful about anything. It was just as well; Sam could not afford to wait. Judging by the looks of it, the flight crew had prepared the craft in anticipation of his arrival although it was highly unlikely that they could be prepared for the unexpected turn of events that were about to be visited on them.
Miranda took Jason's handgun and slapped a fresh clip into the chamber when the car came to a halt. She slid the gun into the waistband of her jeans and concealed it with her clothes.
"Let me handle this," Miranda replied.
"Go mum," Eric grinned, perfectly aware that she was more than capable of taking care of things. The remark brought a little chuckle from Pip whom Eric winked at conspiratorially as Miranda rolled her eyes and exited the van.
"Are you sure you going to be all right?" Jason asked, having become accustomed to providing her cover in such situations. Considering what Elladan and Elrohir told them about their past together, Jason supposed that he was karmically predisposed to being at her side during a fight.
"I'll be okay," she answered and stepped out of the van.
Miranda brushed her hair back with her hands as she strode towards the jet, hoping she did not look nearly as dishevelled as she probably did. Glancing briefly at her nails she decided that when this was all over, she would need a manicure. Well, she was a woman after all. Her approach brought the presence of the pilot from the cockpit of the craft. He was dressed casually, a slightly overweight man with a balding head and a nose that had not been set right after being broken.
"Hello," Miranda greeted.
"This is a private airfield," he growled abruptly in his thick German accent while looking at her in a dismissive manner that Miranda did not like much. Chauvinist, she thought silently.
"It is?" Miranda nodded and went for her gun promptly and aimed it at his face. "Then I guess you better leave."
"What is this?" He stared down the gun barrel in confusion and fear.
"Your cue to go," she said firmly, "get out of here while you can still walk."
The man was not ready to leave just yet and there was a part of his brain that refused to be chased off by a woman. Miranda could see it in his eyes and it brought out the worst in her. Taking a step forward with far more speed than his lumbering bulk was capable of, she pressed the gun to his lips before the man had time to retreat or register the movement.
"I won't say it again," she repeated herself with murder in her eyes. "Go now."
The man swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing furiously as he nodded in understanding with eyes wide to more than just the gun but the realisation that he was tempting fate with his death by this continued refusal. His eyes shifted past her to the van and more people emerging from it. There were enough of them for him to accept that even if he did not get his head blown off in an attempt to overpower this woman, he would not be able to get past her companions.
"Aright," he conceded, cursing in German as he did so, "just take it easy."
Miranda stepped back, keeping the gun trained at him still but with enough room for him to move. He gave her a look of utter contempt before hurrying away from the range of her gun. She did not bother to see how far he went because she knew his first impulse would be to call for help, for all the good it would do. By the time someone arrived on the scene; they would be in the air already. Eric was already hurrying up the steps leading to the plane's open door.
"We don't have a lot of time," Miranda said picking up Pip up.
"I know," Frank agreed. "Air traffic control is going to give us trouble." He remarked glancing at the tower in the distance. "We better make this quick. Everyone, inside."
"Where are we going mum?" Pip asked with question.
"We're going on a little trip," Miranda smiled at her son and was overwhelmed by how good it felt to be with him and answer his questions again. "We're going to see Elladan and Elrohir's people so they can help Sam."
Pip looked at his father who was hurrying towards the plane carrying his older brother and hoped that mum was right. He should have been excited about riding in a plane but he could not be when Sam was not there to share it with him.
"Hey," Jason looked at the small boy, having an instinct of what was running through the young boy's mind. "Your brother will be fine. You want to ride with me? I'm not good on a plane so I could use your help getting through it."
"Can I look at your gun?" Pip asked before looking up at Miranda. "Can I mum?"
"Look," she said with a hint of warning Jason, "not touch, clear?"
"Crystal," Jason answered, not about to provoke her maternal instinct. He had seen it at work and it was not a force he wanted to inflict upon himself. In truth, his aversion to high places was mostly limited to being in see through lifts and staring down from the edge of a great height. In planes, he did not feel as anxious but he saw Pip's expression in regards to his brother and wished to do something to keep the child's mind off his troubles. Christ knows he had been through enough of hell already.
Meanwhile Elladan and Elrohir approached the plane cautiously. They had seen many of these crafts sailing across the sky during their visit here but this was the first time either would be embarking on such a journey themselves. While there was an element of eagerness at this new experience, neither could deny their concerns either.
"Don't worry," Jason grinned wickedly as he walked past them. "If we crash, we'll be pulverised before we feel anything."
"That is comforting," Elladan said dryly.
*************
In anticipation of the journey that he would be making with Frank Miller as his passenger, the pilot who was so hastily driven off by Miranda had already lodged a flight path and acquired all the appropriate tower clearances. Morgul had been very confident that Frank would agree to the journey if Sam's life hung in the balance and had no doubt seen to it that the plane to take him to Valinor would be ready as soon as he made the decision. Frank wondered what the Nazgul would have thought if he had seen how his plans had actually unfolded.
He can't think anything, Frank thought to himself with a little smile of satisfaction, because he's dead.
After a rather shaky take off owing to Eric's unfamiliarity with the type of plane he was flying, they made their departure from the airstrip without incident. A flight plan had been lodged that took the plan through the Norwegian Sea. The Nazgul had a general approximation of where the barrier between worlds was said to have existed and had attempted to chart the journey utilising modern principles of navigation. Eric was able to follow the course that had been prepared but he noted the fuel it would take to get there and was concerned because the amount left no margin for error. If they did not find Valinor, they would have barely enough fuel to reach the Norwegian Islands of Svalbard. He did not voice this to the others because he knew it would change nothing. All were committed to getting Sam help and there was really no other choice but to find Valinor or die trying.
*************
The world changes. Even in Valinor.
For the past six months, life in Undying Lands had accustomed itself to Manwe's earth shattering news that elves could once again go forth into the world, to explore Arda as they had done so many ages ago. Since that day, the elves had been sailing from the Bay of Eldamar in their ships bound for the modern world. They returned months later with tales of everything they had seen in Arda, not to mention a pictorial account following their discovery of all things Kodak.
There was a vitality surging through the Eldar these days, inspiring a burst of creative energy not seen for many ages. New books were being read, new stories told, ideas were spreading throughout the elves like wildfire and yet, with these changes also brought a deeper appreciation for the life they had in Valinor. While the modern world was full of wonders, the Eldar were still grateful that Valinor remained a constant and they returned to her joyfully, like children coming home to their mother after long trip away. This was precisely what the Valar had wished - to see their children evolve, not remain trapped in a microcosm where nothing changed and their culture stagnating.
There was a slight shift in the order of things today; whiff on the wind that told revealed to those who could recognise the signs, that today would not be like any other in recent weeks. For Gandalf the Grey, as he was known for most of the Third Age, he was overcome with a sudden need to take a trip and it was not a trip he wished to take alone. As always, the Maia travelled with his staff, robed in white, making his way from the Gardens of Lorien to the city of Tirion. He had set out a number of days ago in anticipation of the one that was finally here.
His destination was the home of the Ringbearer, build there by the elves to accommodate the Ringbearer and her foster parents shortly after their arrival. It was quite a fortuitous journey for him because he knew for a fact that all the parties he wished to see were at the Ringbearer's home. Galadriel, the Noldor daughter who had ruled as leader of the elves in Middle Earth for much of the Third Age, had appraised him of the situation. Those he was going to see had faint inklings that something was afoot but would not have the full scope of it until he revealed it to them.
The house sat at the edge of Tirion and was high enough to be afforded a panoramic view of the Pelori Mountains as well as the Bay of Eldamar and the distant horizon of Tol Eressea. Like all elven constructs, it was a thing of beauty, ornate in its designed by very much in keeping with the lands around it. If one did not know better, it would be so easy to believe that the house was something grown not fashioned by tools and craftsman. It was a testament to their artistry that this was a difficult thing to judge.
When he finally stood at the front door, he could hear the sounds within and knew the company within was assembled. It was early in the morning and the sounds of the Valar singing was still resonating in his ears. It seemed to add to the beauty of the day with its bright sunny heat a promise of good tidings.
"Gandalf!" Tory exclaimed when she opened the door and found the old man standing before her. Without hesitation, she greeted the old wizard with a warm hug and a delighted smile of genuine pleasure.
"Hello my dear," Gandalf greeted, "I hope this isn't too much of an imposition, my dropping in like this."
"Don't be silly," Tory gave him a look as she invited him into the house. "You know you're always welcome here."
"It is nevertheless impolite to simply arrive unannounced," he reminded.
"I'm not going to argue with you because it's pointless," Tory declared and it really was. When it came to verbal jousting, Gandalf was an absolute master at it. What a barrister he would have been, she had often thought. "You're just in time, we're sitting down to breakfast. Bryan and the others got home last night, so we've got plenty to spare."
"Ah," Gandalf nodded, aware that Bryan, Legolas and Aaron had made a journey to Formenos recently. It was rather fortunate because it ensured that they would all be together when he made his revelation for what taking place this day.
Tory led him through the house to the kitchen where the remaining members of the Fellowship were gathered around the table breakfasting. Despite his origins as a Maiar spirit and a servant of Manwe, there was a part of Gandalf who felt exceedingly human when was in the company of these men. Seeing them together drove him deep into the past and reminded him of the Fellowship and the history he was apart of. By the grace of Eru, those who were lost were now returned to them and it had surprised Gandalf immensely to realise how much he had missed them and how grateful he was to have them in his life again.
Aaron Stone was the reincarnation of Aragorn Elessar, the High King of Gondor and his friend, Strider. The Elfstone had solidified the fractured kingdom of his ancestors into something that lasted for a thousand years until the shifting sands of the world brought on the new dark age, long after everything of Middle-earth was dead and forgotten. Even in his latest guise, Aaron was still very much that man even if he was not the woodsman that Aragorn had been. His strength was that of a healer and on this day, it would be a talent put to good use.
Beside Aaron was Bryan Miller, who wore the face of a warrior as formidable as he was in this life. Bryan had been Boromir, son of Denethor, Captain of Gondor. While Boromir had succumbed to the lure of the ring, Bryan had redeemed his ancient self by protecting Fredrica Bailey, the young girl who he was now raising like his own child. When Gandalf looked at Bryan, there was so much of Boromir in him that it was uncanny. However, there was also wisdom in Bryan that was lacking in Boromir. It was an understanding that power was not often the path to salvation and sometimes the only way to resist temptation was to uphold the oaths made to oneself.
Fredrica Bailey who was called Fred by all who knew her was not entirely Frodo Baggins. There was something about her Gandalf could not comprehend, a powerful presence in her young body that he could not explain. Even his lord and master Manwe had sensed something in the child he could not fathom. Something that was beyond a Valar's ability to explain was not to be taken lightly. At first, Gandalf had believed it was a product of Frodo's connection to Sauron but as time hurtled past, he had begun to understand it had little to do with evil at all. Perhaps it had always been there, hidden within the indomitable spirit of Frodo's character, a force for good that enhanced the hobbit's natural courage.
Joining them at the table this morning was Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil and master archer who was just as happy to have returned to him his old friends as Gandalf himself. Since Aaron and Bryan's arrival in Valinor, it was Legolas who had aided their adjustment to life here and it was a common sight to see the trio embarking on one adventure after another as they explored the length and breadth of this island.
"Gandalf!" Fred said exuberantly upon seeing him enter the kitchen with Tory and promptly jumped off her chair so that she could hug him.
"Hello Fred," Gandalf replied happy to see the child and was greeted with a similar chorus of salutations from all around the table.
"Are you here about what happened with Fred and Galadriel?" Bryan asked once the cordialities were completed. When he had returned to find out that Fred had asked to see Galadriel, he had been concerned that some dark force was putting the child under threat again.
"Not at all," Gandalf answered, sitting down on the table and keeping Fred on his lap.
"He has that look about him," Legolas' said with an arched brow.
"Yeah," Aaron nodded in agreement. "He does."
"He has a look?" Tory asked the three men who were smirking with some hidden knowledge, with some annoyance because she could not see what they were referring to.
"Yeah luv," Bryan said with a smile, as he looked at Gandalf in smug satisfaction, "the one that means this isn't a social call."
"Actually," Gandalf replied, "I had called on you to invite to take a little trip with me."
"Gandalf," Legolas stared at him critically, "the last time you invited anyone to take a trip with you, poor Bilbo Baggins found himself surrounded by dwarfs and lost in the Lonely Mountains with the One Ring."
"You're kidding," Aaron looked at Legolas, enjoying immensely the growing annoyance on Gandalf's face.
"They did not label him as the disturber of the peace in the Shire for nothing," Legolas chuckled.
"Disturber of the peace?" Bryan looked at Gandalf and laughed.
"If you are finished," Gandalf silenced them all with a good-natured rumble of annoyance.
"Sorry," Aaron declared conciliatorily, "so where are we going?"
"Nowhere that involves a dragon if that makes you feel better," Gandalf retorted. "However, we do not have time to waste. This is a business that requires the presence of the Fellowship, Fred as well."
"Can you tell us where?" Bryan questioned further. If there was trouble ahead, he did not want Fred anywhere near it. She had been living a normal and safe life since arriving in Valinor and Bryan intended to see to it that her existence remained that way. He had promised to keep her safe and it was not a responsibility he took lightly. He simply did not expect that he would fall in love with the child and regard her as the daughter he might have had if his life had gone differently.
Gandalf was more than aware of Bryan's concerns and spoke quickly to alleviate his worries for Fred, "it is perfectly safe Bryan, there is no danger but Fred's presence is required."
"Alright," Bryan answered because he trusted the old man and counted Gandalf as one of his friends "I take it you want to get going as soon as possible."
"Yes," Gandalf nodded. "The situation is somewhat grave even if there is no danger. We must go soon and Aaron," he looked at Aragorn's present incarnation, "we will need your skills as a healer."
*************
Through the window of the cabin, Miranda could see the retreat of twilight in the sky. The dawn was approaching in the horizon, replacing the dark canopy of stars with reassuring comfort of a new day. She wished she could have slept during the flight but it was not possible when Sam was so ill. Sitting next to Sam, she stroked his brow trying to ignore the knots in her stomach at the heat of his skin and the shuddering of his small body as he battled against things she could not imagine. This was not right, she told herself. Sam should not be fighting this battle. She was his mother. It was her responsibility to protect him from such horrors. How on Earth had she failed so miserably?
Frank too did not sleep. He sat across her, meeting her eyes and showing her his empathy for her feelings. The same pained expression filled his face when he looked at Sam and both of them felt despair at the thought that they might not be able to save their first born.
"My father will know how to help him," Elrohir spoke up from his seat. Next to him, Elladan had taken a moment to rest even though elves did not sleep the way humans did. Elrohir sensed that his brother's lapse into slumber had more to do with the flight they were taking rather than the need for rest. This journey through the clouds was very disconcerting and sleep would allow him an escape for a brief time.
"Are you certain?" Miranda asked anxiously, her voice choking with emotion. "I'm so afraid that we're not going to get here in time. He's so warm and he's been this way for some time. If his temperature isn't lowered soon, it could be harm him permanently."
"My father has experience in dealing with the poisons of a Morgul blade," Elrohir reassured him. "It will be good to see him again. I must say I am impressed by the speed of this vessel. I had not expected see my family for many months. A voyage such as this would have taken weeks."
"Welcome to the 21st century," Jason added with a smile.
"This place we're going," Frank asked, "my brother is happy there?"
"Yes," Elrohir nodded. "I believe so. He has lived a life steeped in violence. I believe the Undying Lands has allowed him some measure of peace."
"Will we be allowed to leave, once we've arrived?" Jason asked. After all this talk about going to Valinor, it had never been mentioned whether or not they could leave. As it was, they were so far away from land that it gave Jason a deep sense of concern. He knew roughly what direction they headed and was certain that they had flown past the Norwegian Sea. If they kept travelling in this direction, they would find themselves in the Artic Circle.
"Certainly," Elrohir answered supposing that it was a valid concern. In the ages past, the Valar were reluctant to allow the departure from their shores but with the new decree by Manwe and so many of the elves leaving to discover the modern world, such concerns seemed archaic.
"Will you be able to send word to my brother?" Frank asked.
"Of course," the elf answered. "It will be done as soon as your son is taken care of."
Suddenly, a shadow fell over the cabin as if the sunlight had been suddenly stolen away. Miranda looked out the window and to see the sudden increase in clouds sweeping past the body of the plane. It also grew noticeably cooler with a chill biting into her skin.
"The weather's changed," Frank declared.
"Too suddenly," Elrohir remarked.
"We might have just flown into some thick cloud cover," Frank explained, aware that the elves were not particularly comfortable with air travel.
"Jason," Miranda looked at the younger man. "Can you go up to the cockpit and see what's happening?"
"Sure," the younger man answered rising out of his seat. "Its about time I checked up on him anyway. Make sure he's not crashing us into the sea or anything."
"Could you not use the word 'crash'?" Frank gave him a look.
Jason chuckled and followed the aisle into the cabin where the cockpit was situated. However, his amusement was short lived upon arriving at the cockpit. Eric was staring ahead with a grim expression on his face. Jason could understand his feelings as he stared through the glass at the wall of thick grey before them. Even as the distance between the plane and cloud mass narrowed, Jason could feel the first tremors shuddering through the craft as the effects of the storm began to reach them. He stared at the swirling mass of violent clouds, watching the electricity rippling across it in spidery tentacles of energy and felt his stomach tighten in fear.
"We're not going through there are we?" Jason asked in muted shock.
"Our course takes right through it," Eric answered gravely, not moving his eyes away from the sight. "We don't have enough fuel to get back. Either we go through that and find Valinor or we crash into the sea."
As Jason stared at the wall of grey sweeping forward, preparing to overwhelm them with its power, he wondered if they would not do so anyway.
************
The sun had risen high in the afternoon sky and the company had made the journey riding on horses that borne them swiftly to the coast of Valinor. Though it would have taken them considerable time to make the journey, there seemed to be a power greater than their own facilitating their need to reach the Bay of Eldamar swiftly. Gandalf did not reveal what this power might be but Aaron suspected the hand of the Valar in this because it felt as if time had slowed to allow them to reach their destination in good stead. After almost a year and half living in this strange, mythical world, Aaron had found the Valar delighted in the manner in which they allowed their presence to be felt. There also seemed to be some urgency in the reason for their journey, a possibility given further credence by the request of his doctor's bag.
It was well past midday when the coast of Eldamar came into view. The Bay of Eldamar, with its sapphire coloured water greeted the travellers and afforded them with a spectacular view of Tol Eressea and the Enchanted Isles beyond it. From their vantagepoint, they could see the boats lining the coastline, the Teleri engaging in the business of shipbuilding with great excitement now that the elves were allowed to sail the oceans beyond Valinor. Since Manwe's announcement, the Teleri had thrown themselves into their craft with a renewed sense of purpose and the fruits of their labour could be seen in the newly constructed ships that had now been put to sea.
"We shall wait here," Gandalf said as they arrived at foot of the Pelori Mountains.
"Wait for what?" Bryan looked at the wizard in question, uncertain how they had made the trip here so quickly. "Why is it so important that we be here and how the bloody hell did we get here so fast?"
"Because they are coming," Fred volunteered.
"They?" Aaron stared at the little girl and at Gandalf simultaneously.
"The rest of our company," Gandalf offered cryptically.
"The boy," Fred said with a smile and exchanged a knowing look with Gandalf that left all others in their presence bewildered.
"The rest of our company Gandalf?" Legolas declared, "we are all here. Whom else should we expect...." the elf suddenly went silent and his gaze intensified into a frown as he stared at the open sea with an expression both Bryan and Aaron had recognised as a sign of caution.
"What is it?" Aaron asked.
"I hear something," Legolas replied, dismounting his horse and walking forward across the grassy plain. His eyes did not shift from the horizon where Eldamar lay. The sound was too alien for Valinor and yet Legolas had sworn he had heard it before. He searched his memory for it and knew that despite its familiarity, there was also some difference.
"What do you hearing?" Bryan demanded.
However, it was Fred who answered, "they've come at last."
***********
They were going to die.
Of this Eric no longer had any doubt as he continued to struggle against the barrier of formidable clouds that were threatening to plunge the plane into the sea. Across the cockpit, he could see the rain battering relentlessly at the glass while fierce winds gripped the plane in extreme violence. Even though it was freezing in the plane, there was sweat running down his brow as he wrestled the controls, determined to keep the craft aloft. Jason was seated in the copilot's seat, beyond frightened and Eric had trouble believing that a man who had no trouble gunning down Uruk Hai or challenging Nazgul could turn white at the turbulence in a plane. However, considering that the plane's fuel was dwindling and the engines would cut out soon after, he supposed that it was not an unjustifiable for Jason to feel this way.
"We going to die," Jason muttered, trying not to look out the cockpit.
"No we're not," Eric said with more confidence than he felt and his palms sweating against the controls would indicate otherwise. The others had wisely strapped themselves into their seats and Eric hoped that their nerves were just as easily restrained because if Jason was any indication, they were going to be in a sorry state. "We just have to get through this cloud cover!"
Another powerful lurch made Eric's heart pound harder and he struggled to keep the craft's nose up. He had never flown in a storm before and certainly not one of this intensity. He could see nothing of the sky as the plane was surrounded completely by this thick cloud that almost resembled dark smoke. The plane was being tossed around in this fierce wind like a plastic bag in a windstorm and there was only so much turbulence the jet could take before its structure gave way. Each groan he heard in the cabin and the fuselage beyond it reinforced the fear that this eventuality was becoming a reality.
Suddenly a bolt of lighting came out of nowhere and struck the plane's right engine. Eric did not see the damage but he registered the destruction of the engine with the sudden loss of altitude. He could feel the static electricity passing through the air as charged particles swept through the craft, impotently because there had been no opportunity for the current to reach earth. The plane dipped dangerously to one side and he could hear the indignant and fearful cries of his companions behind him.
"What the hell?" Jason shouted as the plane began descending.
"We've lost an engine!" Eric shouted as he struggled to compensate for the loss.
"Jesus!" Jason cried out, his fingers digging into the cushioned seat.
Fortunately the engines on a Lear jet were located in the rear which made there was little wing damage. If it were a 747 who wore their turbines on their wing, they would already be spiralling towards the sea. However, this was only a minor advantage because the turbulence outside made even gliding near impossible.
"What the hell is happening?" Frank's voice suddenly demanded behind him.
"Get back to your bloody seat!" Eric snapped. "Do you know dangerous it is for you to be walking around?"
"Compared to crashing into the sea? Not much!" Frank retorted.
"Look!" Jason exclaimed, snapping both men out of their argument.
"What?" Eric looked forward and suddenly saw the clouds around the plane began to thin.
Ahead of him, he could see the brilliant hues of sunshine pouring through the grey cumulus. The droplets of rain that were evaporating on the cockpit glass by the velocity of the wind were no longer being replace by more. The ferocity of the storm, its sheets of driving rain and bolts of lethal lightning had suddenly began to dissipate Almost as abruptly as they had entered the storm, they were suddenly past it as clear skies waited for them beyond. Frank, Eric and Jason were confronted with a sea so blue that it took the breath away and in the distance, they could see the islands that Elladan and Elrohir had described with such affection.
"Christ," Jason declared, his voice filled with wonder. "It's there. Its really there."
"The storm," Frank guessed quickly, his hands leaning against both their seats, "it must be the barrier that keeps Valinor from our world. The Valar let us through," he said with rising pleasure, "Morgul was right. They knew the Silmaril was coming."
"We're going to make it," Jason grinned happily. "We going to get there."
Eric was about to add to Jason's declaration that he would now be able to glide the plane to the ground now that the turbulence of the storm had left them when suddenly, a small light began flashing on the cockpit control panel. His eyes immediately turned to it and as he realised the reason for this, he let out a visible groan of exasperation.
"Oh hell," he muttered, wondering if all the Fates were against them today. They were about to run out of fuel.
**********
"Jesus Christ," Aaron exclaimed when the sound that Legolas was listening to so intently finally became audible to human ear. "Is that a plane?"
"It is," Bryan nodded joining Legolas as they stared into the sky trying to catch sight of the craft. "How is that possible?"
"Can you see them?" Aaron asked the elf whose eyesight was far keener than all those present.
"Yes," he nodded, "their craft is approaching. You will see it soon enough."
Bryan felt Fred's hand in his and looked down to see the little girl standing next to him. His jaded and cynical heart leapt in affection as she gave him a look that almost bordered on reassurance. There were times when Bryan had this notion that Fred knew more about things than she let on. "Is that them?"
"Yes," she nodded. "They'll be here soon."
"Who?" Aaron asked again.
Gandalf did not respond and the desire to question the wizard further was washed away with distant sound of the approaching plane became a loud roar that rumbled across the sky. All eyes shifted to the sky as the first sign of the craft in question came into view. The sunlight bounced off the gleaming metal as it streaked across the sky like a descending comet. From their position at the base of the mountains, they could see the emergence of other elves appearing to watch the spectacle of the approaching craft.
"Is it me or is that plane not flying straight?" Aaron asked as he noted that there was something about the way the plane was descending that did not appear quite right.
"They're having trouble keeping the nose up," Bryan replied as he squinted his eyes to get a better look. The plane had cleared the Enchanted Isle and was presently making its way across Tol Eressea. It was not far from the coast but its descent gave those who were watching good reason for concern.
Suddenly, the loud rumble died and the air was still with silence.
"Bugger," Bryan said softly.
"What just happened?" Aaron looked at him with concern.
"Their engines just died," Bryan replied, "as well as any hope of soft landing. They're gliding at the moment."
"They are coming this way," Legolas declared.
The jet surged across the sky and Bryan observed that its pilot had attempted to control their descent even if the craft was staying aloft with only the power of the wind. He could see the landing gears being released as wheels lowered from the belly of what appeared to be a Lear jet. There was no runway of any kind and it appeared that the site that Gandalf had chosen to pause was the only stretch of even land for some distance. If the plane was going to land anywhere it was going to be here.
They took themselves to safety, watching in a mixture of horror and fascination as the plan began its gradual descent, sailing over the island of Tol Eressea and reaching at last the shores of Valinor. Those who had been watching the plane's approach on the shore could see clearly the underside of the craft as it flew above them. The plane glided soundlessly overhead and continued its gradual descent with flaps adjusting to decrease its landing velocity.
The Fellowship watched as the plane finally touched down, its front wheel digging immediately into the soft earth, farrowing the ground like a plough. The back wheels primarily designed for use on a hard bitumen tarmac did not fare so well and caused the plane to skid. The jet spun around at a 90-degree angle but this sudden change in direction did not halt its progress forward. It continued across the ground, putting dangerous pressure on the wheels as they were dragged through dirt and vegetation. The right wing speared the soil, causing the plane to jerk to a stop briefly before its velocity resumed its onslaught. A terrible rip of metal saw the wing torn in mid section as one of the wheels buckled and drove what remained of the wing deep into the earth.
The plane was almost spun around again but this time, as it made another spectacular arc, the wing acted as an anchor and finally brought them to a halt. The craft was in a sorry state by this point, with debris and deep farrows left behind in the wake of its tumultuous landing. No sooner than it had stopped, Aaron was running forward, having grabbed his medical bag when he realised the plane was going to crash. Legolas hurried after the doctor, with Bryan lingering long enough to order Fred to stay with Gandalf while they investigated.
"Don't worry," Gandalf said to Fred who looked somewhat concerned. "They're fine."
***********
They were alive but not fine.
After the landing they had been forced to endure Frank was rather certain that he would not be flying for a long time and judging by the ashen expression on the twin's face, it would be never for them. Frank was the first on his feet after they had made their landing, ensuring that no one was badly injured. Miranda sported a dark bruise on the side of her face because she had been slammed against the wall when the wheel had buckled. She had somehow managed to hold on to Sam who had been fortunately oblivious during their landing. Pip was in his seat across Miranda, crying visibly from the terror of their descent but he seemed no worse for that. Frank let out a sigh and walked forward uneasily, having sprained his ankle during the turbulence journey across the ground.
"Is everyone all right?" Frank asked as Jason and Eric went to open the door of the craft.
"We're fine," Miranda nodded breathlessly, looking a little pale after their nerve-racking experience.
"I shall never board one of these vessels again," Elrohir managed to say.
"I think I am going to be sick," Elladan added, his face a slight shade of green in contrast to his brother's paler face.
Frank almost laughed but chose instead to underdo Pip's seat belt to comfort his terrified son. The boy wrapped his arms around his father's neck and allowed his exhausted tears to escape him.
"We're safe now Pip," Frank declared. "We're safe."
Jason and Eric had made their way to the front of the cabin, determined to vacate the premises as soon as possible. The sound of the plane's cabin door opening by Eric soon captured their attention and the new voice entered their hearing.
"Any injured in here?" A man who was clearly an American asked as he paused in front of Jason and Eric. "I'm a doctor."
"It is good to see you Aaron," Elrohir greeted and Aaron crossed the floor to meet the elf in a brotherly embrace.
"You guys know how to make a dramatic entrance," Aaron grinned, glad to see that twins unhurt by the crash landing.
"Aaron," Elladan spoke up. "The boy needs help immediately. He has been stabbed with a Morgul blade."
Aaron crossed the floor of the ruined plane in three easy steps and was soon at Sam's side.
"Can you help him?" Miranda spoke, nearly terrified to ask in case they were wrong about a cure existing in Valinor.
Aaron did not answer and immediately began examining the boy.
"Eomer!" Legolas exclaimed with happiness as he entered the plane and cast his eyes upon Eric, switching to English so that he could be understood. "You are Eomer and you are here too Merry?" He stared at Jason in surprise and pleasure.
"Please,' Jason flinched aware that this elf must have known both his and Eric's past incarnation if the joy Jason saw in his eyes was any indication. "My name is Jason."
"Jason it is," Legolas said not caring and embraced Jason before the latter could protest. Legolas finally understood why Gandalf had claimed that their company was coming. Another member of the Fellowship had returned to them. That could only be the cause of celebration.
"This is Legolas," Elladan introduced. "As you might have guessed, he is one of the Nine Walkers, the Fellowship of whom you were apart."
"I guessed," Jason replied, a little overwhelmed by the delight he could see in the blond elf's eyes and was a little uncertain as to how to respond.
"We can talk of this later," Legolas spoke up seeing his discomfiture. "It appears one of your company is need of help."
"Can he help?" Eric asked referring to Aaron who was hunched over Sam at present.
"I believe he can," Legolas replied and then added, "if not we will find Lord Elrond."
At that moment, Bryan entered the plane and caught sight of Frank. The former MI6 agent's jaw dropped in astonishment at the sight of his brother standing next to his wife and child, their eyes fixed on what Aaron was doing. It took a further second to register that the patient Aaron was working on so diligently was Sam, his nephew. His mind became a storm of thoughts as he tried to understand how this was possible.
"Frank!" Bryan exclaimed in a mixture of shock and joy.
Frank looked up and saw Bryan with a happy grin plastered across his face as he approached. Bryan did not look at all changed though his hair had grown a little longer and seemed more unruly than the regulation type haircuts that was a product of his military conditioning. It was obvious that Bryan was delighted to see him as unconcealed bursts of emotion were a rare thing where his brother was concerned.
"What are you doing here?" Bryan asked, his question following a hard embrace.
"Look there'll be time for reunions later," Aaron suddenly spoke up abruptly, "we need to get this child to Elrond immediately."
"How bad is he?" Frank asked, ignoring Bryan for the moment because they would have words later.
"Your son's strong and he's fighting it but it's wearing him down. Whatever is in this 'Morgul blade', it's overwhelming him and I think there may even be a piece of it lodged inside him. I've given him something to slow it down but its not going to be enough and I don't have the skill to treat something like this. Its not a simple matter of removing the blade, there's magic to it I can't quite grasp yet. He needs to go Elrond, now."
"I shall take him," Legolas offered.
"Wait," Miranda interrupted. She was reluctant to let Sam out of her sight again so soon after they had moved heaven and earth to rescue them from the Nazgul's hands.
"It will be alright," Bryan reassured her. "Legolas is the best rider here. He'll get Sammie to Elrond in good time. You can trust him."
"My lady," Legolas met her gaze and said with a smile, "it please me to see you again. You have my word that no harm will come to your son in my keep but we must hurry. Time grows short if he has met the blade of the Nazgul."
Miranda was about to question his remark about having seen her before until she realised that he was speaking of Eowyn, not Miranda. His blue eyes reached into her soul with its sincerity and if Miranda still had trouble with that, she knew that Bryan would never vouch for him otherwise.
"Take him," Frank answered while she was debating this. "Get him the help he needs."
Legolas nodded as Aaron picked up Sam and handed the sickly child to him. Legolas saw the face before him and could not help smile faintly, "it is a day of surprises then, is it not little one?" He thought of the brave little hobbit that had followed his master into the darkest place in the world and prevailed. Legolas was determined that in this life, his strong spirit would find its way into the light again. "I will go immediately and wait for your arrival at Lord Elrond's house."
"We'll be right behind you," Aaron replied. "We need to get more horses down here anyway."
Legolas swept out of the plane with the others following him quickly.
"Is he going to be all right?" Fred asked the moment she saw Legolas with the boy she had been seeing her dreams.
"He is very ill," Legolas offered as he made for his horse. "Gandalf, I think you should come with me. Lord Elrond may need your counsel in the healing of this child."
"I will go," Gandalf smiled and looked at the others who had arrived, "Aaron, Bryan, please see to our new arrivals and meet us in Lord Elrond's home. This wound may require both our skills to mend."
"He's very tired Gandalf," Fred reminded.
"I know," Gandalf nodded in understanding, aware of the almost symbiotic connection these two souls had to each other. "We will allow him to rest."
Miranda stepped forward, not understanding how this little girl whom Sam had never seen before could make such a statement.
"I'm Sam's mother," she looked at Fred. "How do you know he's tired sweetheart?"
"Because," Fred smiled at the woman whose golden haired glimmered with sunshine and reminded her of Galadriel's own spectacular locks, "he's a ringbearer too. Like me."
"We must go," Legolas said having already mounted his horse. "Gandalf?"
"We will see you soon," Gandalf said to the others and mounted his horse, a descendant of the great Shadowfax and set off towards on their journey.
Frank and Miranda watched as the two figures rode off into the distance, carrying Sam with them and all their hopes for his safety. Frank embraced his wife and shared a moment of intimacy as he gave her wanning strength the support of his faith that Sam would be healed and returned to them whole. It was good to be relieved of this terrible foreboding that had been a constant ever since they had found Sam. For the first time, there was real hope of his survival.
"How did you get here?" Bryan asked, now that there was time for questions.
Frank turned to face his brother before throwing a fist squarely at Bryan's face.
"What am I doing here? I'll tell you what I'm doing here you stupid prat!" Frank sputtered trying to think of more abusive things to hurl at his brother much to the astonishment of everyone present.
"What's wrong with you?" Bryan shouted indignantly as he recovered from the physical attack and tried to defend himself from the more cutting verbal barrage, "you could have broken my nose!"
"I would need a bloody cricket bat to break that nose!" Frank snapped, "and if I'm lucky I might get what is left of your brain!"
"What?" Bryan stared at him stunned.
"Do you have any idea what we've gone through this week? You said you had people chasing you. You didn't tell me you had a crazed pack of Nazgul hunting you down so that they can free their master! You could have given us some bloody idea what might be coming after us! Do you have any idea what it took to kill one of those things?"
"I didn't think they'd come after you!" Bryan protested. "I swear I thought you were safe."
"I am disowning you! You're not my brother anymore!" Frank shouted, still riding a wave of furious indignation where nothing he said meant anything but felt good to vent nevertheless. "You are some git who just happened to be in my mum's house."
"Frank I'm sorry," Bryan tried to explain himself. "I really didn't think..."
"You never think!" Frank declared. "In fact, didn't I tell you to stop doing that all together? You're not very good at it!"
"Frank," Miranda interjected feeling some sympathy for Bryan. In truth, if the Silmaril had not entered their lives, it was very likely the Nazgul would have never found them.
"No, no," Aaron said to her quietly, "let him continue. This is kind of entertaining."
"Are you trying to be funny?" Miranda looked at him and saw that his blue eyes were dancing with mischief.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Aaron replied, "but I don't see the big guy at a loss for words very often so I'm kind of savouring it."
"You're wicked," she accused and decided she could get to like this man very much.
*************
While Sam came under the ministrations of Elrond who had not been forced to treat the effects of a Morgul blade since he had performed the duty on Frodo Baggins, his twin sons presented to Gandalf the Silmaril. All of Valinor was abound by the news of the jewel's return and those who had borne it to the safety of their shores were shown all the gratitude that could be offered by the elves. Gandalf took possession of the jewel and returned it to Varda, the mate of his lord Manwe. The queen of the heavens was more than delighted to have returned to her one of her lost children and she soon set it into the sky and called it the dawn star. It would be the star whose glow was clearest before morning's break, a symbol to all for the coming of the new day.
"Its beautiful," Jason remarked as he sat on the grass outside Bryan's home with the rest of his friends who had risen early today to see the first appearance of the Silmaril in its proper place in the dawn sky. He wondered what Petra Tebben would have thought of all this and felt saddened that the archaeologist and those who had paid with their lives for the unearthing of the Silmaril would never know the beauty they had helped inspire.
"I can't believe I used it to kill somebody only a week ago," Frank marvelled in similar awe as he stared at the glittering jewel in the predawn sky.
"These Valar certainly know how to make an impression," Eric declared. "I mean this place and all everything that's in it could be the story of my career except I can report any of it. I tell you there is no God," he sighed.
"Well technically there is a God," Tory reminded him. "Except he is nothing like what we imagined him to be. He still exists but it seems our perception of him has been a little distorted."
"Sure," he gave her a wry look, "try and make me feel better in a place with no beer."
"Oh Christ," Jason said rolling his eyes, "bloody Australians and your beer."
"Well I gave Frank a list," Bryan complained as he took of the sip of elven wine and winced because it was a poor substitute for the Yorkshire bitter he was craving.
"Sod off," Frank retorted promptly. "If you had told me about the Nazgul maybe I would have had some in reserve, just so I could take it with me when I suddenly forced to hijack a plane and flee the country."
"Are you still on about that?" Bryan groaned, "You know I don't remember you being such a bloody whinger."
"You've been away awhile," Miranda joked and received a look of mock hurt from her husband. "But it's a good thing he hit you because I would have broken something."
"You couldn't do that," Bryan slid him arm around her, "you love me. All my women do."
"I'm only here for the sex," Tory returned. "The rest you can keep," she smiled at Bryan sweetly.
"Thanks," he laughed at the woman he loved. "Aaron will probably drop by today." He added on a more serious note. "I think Elrond wants him to check on Sam to see how he's doing."
"He hasn't woken up," Miranda said reminded of how uncomfortable that made her. "I wish he would. I won't feel that he's getting better until he does."
"He'll be fine," Frank looked at her reassuringly, "Elrond said this would happen. Sam's fought hard to keep the poison from taking him over. His body is still recovering from the exhaustion. Besides the wound seems to be healing and he is nowhere as bad as he was when we first arrived."
"True," Miranda had to concede that point. "He's been through so much, I still can't help but worry."
"So have you decided to stay?" Eric asked Frank in an effort to change the subject and keep Miranda from dwelling too much on Sam's condition.
"For awhile yes," Frank answered. "There's a great deal here to learn, so much about these people that I'd like to understand. Besides I'm not all that eager to go home with the Nazgul most likely still hunting us."
"They're probably still seething from what you lot did to them," Bryan added. In truth, he was infinitely pleased that Frank and his family had chosen to remain in Valinor. Until Bryan had seen Frank again, he had forgotten how much he missed his brother and was pleased that for the first time in too long, he would be able to see Frank on a regular basis.
"And you two?" Miranda looked at Eric and Jason.
"Well even if I went home and decided to tell the world about Valinor, I'm certain I'd be locked up in a padded room, that is if the Nazgul don't get either of us. So I guess I'll stay for a while. I always wanted to write and this place is worth a couple of books at least. If I can't report this as fact, I can at least write it as fiction. If I ever go home, it will be ripper of a read. I could be the next David Eddings."
"And I'd better stay to keep him out of trouble," Jason added.
"Bullshit," Eric returned, "you've seen the women and here, they finally find you interesting."
"And you haven't Batchelor No.2?" Jason returned.
Tory let out a sigh and looked at Miranda, "this used to be such a nice neighbourhood."
**************
Sam felt as if he had been walking down a long dark tunnel towards a flicker of light in the distance that seemed for a time, as if he would never reach it. The journey towards it had been exhausting and there were moments when he was almost ready to give up but he pushed himself onward nonetheless, convinced that the light was a passageway to the world he knew. He no longer felt the enemy chasing him and the danger they had represented inside this place had diminished to nothingness since he began the journey through this tunnel.
After what seemed forever, Sam had finally reached it and when he felt its warmth filling his senses, he saw the tunnel had evaporated and around him were walls, walls that formed a room. He looked that the windows with sunlight pouring through the parted curtains, drifting forward by a light breeze. He saw rooms that were painted in a light hue and wooden floorboards. There was something about the room that did not seem real, as if it had been created in a dream and had somehow been given shape. He sat up in his bed, an enormous thing with bedposts that were carved with ornate designs. He looked outside the open window and could see mountains. They were like mountains he would see in a picture book, magnificent and awesome.
"Hello," he heard her voice from his left.
Sam turned slightly and found himself looking at a young girl a little older than Pip. She stared at him with luminous blue eyes that seemed terribly familiar.
"Hello," he said back.
"I'm Fred," she smiled coming closer to the edge of the bed. "I knew you would wake up."
"You did?" He looked at her with bewilderment, unable to shake this insistent feeling that he knew her from somewhere. "Where am I?" He asked instead and once that questioned escaped him, a litany of others followed. "Where are my mum and dad? Where's Pip?"
"They're here," Fred replied in a calm voice, sensing his anxiety at not knowing how he had come to be here. "Would you like me to get them?"
"Yes," Sam answered, filled with the overwhelming need to see his family. It felt so long since he had last seen them and he remembered nothing about how he had come be in this bed. However, the more he looked at her, the more he felt compelled to ask another question. "Do I know you?"
"I'm not sure," she answered truthfully. "I feel like I know you but I can't remember how. I know you are the other ringbearer."
"Ringbearer?" He looked at her.
"Yes," she nodded, dark hair bouncing off her shoulders as she did so. "The bad ring, the one that talks. You carried it too. I don't remember anything else about it though."
"They were chasing us," he met her gaze and suddenly, a distant memory of running through the darkness, of scrambling through sharp rocks and evil looking woods filled his thoughts. Sam felt his heart beating so fast as he remembered the sound of pounding hooves against dirt, chasing him relentless. He remembered all this and the memory of someone who was at his side, someone who shared the black oblivion of those terrible dreams with him. As Sam looked at her, he suddenly knew without being able to explain it that she was that other he could never remember until now.
"Black Riders," she said.
His eyes widened as he asked her softly, "are we safe now?"
Fred looked over her shoulder at the open door and waited a moment before she answered him.
"No," she met his gaze with one of profound sadness, "we're not."
NOT THE END
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