Disclaimer: Not mine. Story is, but characters aren't. I'm gonna pout
now.
"His injuries are grave," Lord Elrond told Aragorn with a very sober look while applying salve and setting the young man's neck. He had a broken back, collarbone, and had suffered from serious head trauma.
"I know, Father. I checked him when we discovered him in the woods. Is here anything you can do?" Aragorn asked, leaning across the sick bed the Legolas doppelganger lay upon. He knew this was not Legolas, but with the uncanny resemblance, he couldn't help but react as if it was. On the left side of the strange tunic he wore, there was a patch that said "Blackburn". He assumed that was the young man's name.
"I can stop the bleeding and heal his broken bones, but if he is indeed paralyzed, there is not much I can do."
"Then I shall pray to the Valar that he is not. 'Twould be a horrid fate for one so young." Aragorn placed a hand on Blackburn's forehead.
"Indeed," agreed Elrond as he finished treating Blackburn. "All we can do now is wait and hope." They didn't need to wait very long. Blackburn awoke about ten hours later.
'Ugh. what happened?' Blackburn's eyes took a few moments to focus. The ceiling he saw certainly wasn't that of the hospital set up at the Pakistani Stadium. It was dome-shaped and there were ornate carvings snaking their way from the center towards the walls. With all the decoration and woodcarvings everywhere, compared to the Med Tents at base, he felt like he was in the penthouse suite at The Plaza Hotel. Blackburn could only ogle at his surroundings.
Completely immersed in the artwork that was the room around him, he jumped when someone took hold of his hand. The person chuckled a bit.
"Well, at least we know you still have feeling in your hands." There was a man sitting in a chair to his right. He was sort of scruffy looking, and dressed in what looked like formal wear from the Renaissance. However, despite the strangeness of his appearance, Blackburn couldn't help but feel that this man should be respected. His presence reminded him of General Garrison.
"Wh.where am I? What happened?"
"Worry not, my young friend. Your questions will soon be answered. If you will excuse me for a moment, I will go inform Lord Elrond that you're awake." The man gave his hand a comforting pat, stood, and left the room.
'Lord Elrond? But the Somalis don't have "Lords". And that guy was white! What the hell is going on?!' Blackburn had gone from confused to awe- inspired to surprised to impressed to confused to really confused all in the span of two minutes. A few moments later, the door opened and in came a tall, dark-haired man whose hair reached almost to his waist. The man from before came in behind him. If Blackburn thought that the man who sat with him before deserved respect, then this man demanded it. Never before had Blackburn felt such a powerful presence. It was like he was glowing, and he had this incredible grace and strength. Blackburn felt like nothing compared to this man. He walked over, placed a hand on Blackburn's forehead and smiled. It was then that Blackburn noticed that this man had pointed ears. How unusual.
"Welcome to Rivendell, young man. I am Lord Elrond. I am sorry your visit could not be on better circumstances. It looks like you are healing nicely already." Elrond moved down to the foot of the bed. "Can you move your toes?"
"Sir?" Blackburn was slightly confused. He had no idea just how serious his injuries were.
"Just try and wiggle you toes. Can you?" Blackburn, a little suspicious, wiggled his toes. "Excellent. Can you feel this?" Elrond started poking at his feet with a needle.
"Ow!!" Although Blackburn wasn't expecting his feet to be suddenly be stuck with sharp objects, he easily put two and two together: he was testing for responsiveness.
"Was I hurt that badly?"
Elrond stopped what he was doing. "Yes, you were. We thought for a time that you might be paralyzed. But given that you can feel a pinprick to your feet, I believe you will be all right. You are a very lucky young man. What is your name?"
Blackburn was unsure if he should say anything. These people seemed nice enough, but what if this was just a set-up to get information? But then again, they could find who he was anyway if they took a look at his dog tag. At least they thought to ask first. "Private First Class Blackburn, Sir."
"Private First Class?" Elrond looked a bit confused.
"Of the United States Army Rangers, Sir."
"United States? Was there some alliance formed that we didn't know about, Father?"
"Unlikely, Estel. Galadriel never would have allowed such a thing."
Aragorn turned to Blackburn. "You said you are a Ranger?"
"Yes, sir."
"I am the Captain of the Rangers of the North and never once have I seen one dressed such as you and carried no weapon beyond a hunting knife."
'No weapon? You mean I lost my gun? Shit!' There went Blackburn's plans for easy escape if he needed to.
"From whence in Middle Earth do you hail from, exactly?" Aragorn sat back down in his chair, leaned back into it, and crossed his arms.
"Middle Earth, Sir? I'm not stationed in the Middle East, if that's what you're asking. I was sent to Somalia."
"Somalia? I have never heard of such a place. It has never been recorded on any map." Elrond's eyebrows knitted together as he frowned at the strange things young Blackburn was spouting.
"It's in Africa, sir," Blackburn said with and incredulous look. 'How could they know nothing of Somalia? Three hundred thousand people had died from starvation there, and they knew nothing about it?'
Elrond and Aragorn exchanged a pointed look. "I believe we will save this discussion for when you have recovered," Elrond said. "Do you have any idea as to how you were hurt?"
"Last I remember, I was about to rope into "The Mog", Mogadishu, and I missed the rope when my chopper had to evade an RPG. I don't remember anything after that, sir."
"It would seem matters concerning yourself are quite complicated. For now let us not dwell on such questions." Blackburn turned to Aragorn.
"Who exactly are you, Sir, if you don't mind my asking. You said you were the Captain of the Rangers of the North. I've never heard of any Ranger battalion with that designation."
'So much like Legolas when he was younger,' thought Elrond. "A strong spirit, inquisitive, cautious. This young man is much stronger than he appears to be. Whoever trained him did so very well.'
"My name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. In some parts of Middle Earth, I am known as Strider. However, here, amongst the Elves, I am called Estel. I am also Lord Elrond's foster son."
"Elves, sir?" Aragorn and Elrond shared another pointed look.
"You are most definitely not of this world if you know naught of the Elves."
"Not of this world?! Sir, where exactly am I?!" Blackburn was really starting to get creeped out. These two guys were really talking crazy. 'Not of this world? Middle Earth? What the hell was all this?!'
"Calm down Master Blackburn. We will explain things to you fully once you recover. As for the Elves, I am an elf, Master Blackburn. As you may or may not have noticed, my ears are pointed. This is an identifying trait of the Elves. We are taller than the average man, and we have what is often described as an ethereal glow. Other physical traits include acute hearing and sight, great speed and strength, and we are completely silent when we move. We leave no footprints on the ground, we make no noise when we walk. The city you are in, Rivendell, is an Elven city. Estel here is the only human resident."
"Sir, with all due respect," Blackburn started, "Elves are a thing of fairytales where I come from. How do I know this isn't just some trick of the enemy?"
Aragorn hunched forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees.
"Is that what your comrades call you, Blackburn?" Aragorn asked, pointing to Blackburn's name patch. Blackburn looked down at it and back up at Aragorn.
"Yes, sir."
"Alright then, Blackburn. Let me ask you this. Are you of any such rank where we would want to kidnap you?"
"No, sir."
"Would an enemy heal you and tell you to stay in bed and rest?"
"Probably not, sir." Aragorn put his hand back on Blackburn's and looked him in the eye.
"I give you my word, young Blackburn, from one Ranger to another, we do not mean you any harm, and we are being truthful with you. Once you get back on your feet, you will come to realize this, and I suspect that once you see the beauty of Rivendell, you will most definitely be enjoying your stay." He gave him another reassuring smile.
Blackburn immediately felt his spirits rise. He wasn't quite sure why hearing those words from Aragorn made a difference, but he felt like once he got out of bed, he could take on the world. Blackburn gave Aragorn a big grin that reached his eyes.
"I believe you, sir."
"Well then, young Blackburn, we will leave you to get some rest. At the rate you are recovering, you will be up and about very soon." Elrond said with a polite smile. Aragorn stood up, said goodbye to Blackburn and left the room as well.
'Elves, huh?' Blackburn thought as he immediately drifted into a dreamless sleep, entirely talked out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "What do you make of this, Father?" Aragorn asked as the two of them walked down the hallway back to Elrond's study.
"I have no idea. I will agree that the similarities in appearance are uncanny. Not only that, but personality-wise as well"
They arrived at the study and Elrond took a seat behind his desk. Aragorn sat in the chair across from him.
"What do you think we should do with him? He's obviously not from Middle Earth or even Arda for that matter. How are we supposed to send him home?"
Elrond rubbed his temple and sighed. "Again, I do not know. For the time being, we shall have to keep him here until we find out how he came to be here in the first place. I'm sure he will desire your company, Estel. You are the only other of his kin here and he will want someone familiar to help him adjust to his surroundings."
"Of course, Father." Aragorn fell silent for a moment. "Do you think he has anything to do with the Ring and the return of Sauron?" he asked, voicing the very question Elrond was asking himself.
"I'm not sure. With Frodo's arrival, Gandalf's disappearance, and the return of the Nazgul, I don't want to rule anything out. We will watch him for the next few days and see if he does anything suspicious." Elrond clasped his hands together and frowned. 'I just hope to the Valar that's not the case.'
A/N: Sorry for the huge amount of exposition here. I promise Blackburn will start having some fun in the next chapter! Oh, and one other thing. I've been getting this question already. Blackburn does indeed still have his gun. It was the black metal object that Merry was poking at and Aragorn has obviously never seen a gun before, so he was unaware that it was a weapon. But they'll figure that out soon enough. Heh heh. I'll try and update again within the next week, but it's midterms. You know how it is. But I'll give it my best shot!!
"His injuries are grave," Lord Elrond told Aragorn with a very sober look while applying salve and setting the young man's neck. He had a broken back, collarbone, and had suffered from serious head trauma.
"I know, Father. I checked him when we discovered him in the woods. Is here anything you can do?" Aragorn asked, leaning across the sick bed the Legolas doppelganger lay upon. He knew this was not Legolas, but with the uncanny resemblance, he couldn't help but react as if it was. On the left side of the strange tunic he wore, there was a patch that said "Blackburn". He assumed that was the young man's name.
"I can stop the bleeding and heal his broken bones, but if he is indeed paralyzed, there is not much I can do."
"Then I shall pray to the Valar that he is not. 'Twould be a horrid fate for one so young." Aragorn placed a hand on Blackburn's forehead.
"Indeed," agreed Elrond as he finished treating Blackburn. "All we can do now is wait and hope." They didn't need to wait very long. Blackburn awoke about ten hours later.
'Ugh. what happened?' Blackburn's eyes took a few moments to focus. The ceiling he saw certainly wasn't that of the hospital set up at the Pakistani Stadium. It was dome-shaped and there were ornate carvings snaking their way from the center towards the walls. With all the decoration and woodcarvings everywhere, compared to the Med Tents at base, he felt like he was in the penthouse suite at The Plaza Hotel. Blackburn could only ogle at his surroundings.
Completely immersed in the artwork that was the room around him, he jumped when someone took hold of his hand. The person chuckled a bit.
"Well, at least we know you still have feeling in your hands." There was a man sitting in a chair to his right. He was sort of scruffy looking, and dressed in what looked like formal wear from the Renaissance. However, despite the strangeness of his appearance, Blackburn couldn't help but feel that this man should be respected. His presence reminded him of General Garrison.
"Wh.where am I? What happened?"
"Worry not, my young friend. Your questions will soon be answered. If you will excuse me for a moment, I will go inform Lord Elrond that you're awake." The man gave his hand a comforting pat, stood, and left the room.
'Lord Elrond? But the Somalis don't have "Lords". And that guy was white! What the hell is going on?!' Blackburn had gone from confused to awe- inspired to surprised to impressed to confused to really confused all in the span of two minutes. A few moments later, the door opened and in came a tall, dark-haired man whose hair reached almost to his waist. The man from before came in behind him. If Blackburn thought that the man who sat with him before deserved respect, then this man demanded it. Never before had Blackburn felt such a powerful presence. It was like he was glowing, and he had this incredible grace and strength. Blackburn felt like nothing compared to this man. He walked over, placed a hand on Blackburn's forehead and smiled. It was then that Blackburn noticed that this man had pointed ears. How unusual.
"Welcome to Rivendell, young man. I am Lord Elrond. I am sorry your visit could not be on better circumstances. It looks like you are healing nicely already." Elrond moved down to the foot of the bed. "Can you move your toes?"
"Sir?" Blackburn was slightly confused. He had no idea just how serious his injuries were.
"Just try and wiggle you toes. Can you?" Blackburn, a little suspicious, wiggled his toes. "Excellent. Can you feel this?" Elrond started poking at his feet with a needle.
"Ow!!" Although Blackburn wasn't expecting his feet to be suddenly be stuck with sharp objects, he easily put two and two together: he was testing for responsiveness.
"Was I hurt that badly?"
Elrond stopped what he was doing. "Yes, you were. We thought for a time that you might be paralyzed. But given that you can feel a pinprick to your feet, I believe you will be all right. You are a very lucky young man. What is your name?"
Blackburn was unsure if he should say anything. These people seemed nice enough, but what if this was just a set-up to get information? But then again, they could find who he was anyway if they took a look at his dog tag. At least they thought to ask first. "Private First Class Blackburn, Sir."
"Private First Class?" Elrond looked a bit confused.
"Of the United States Army Rangers, Sir."
"United States? Was there some alliance formed that we didn't know about, Father?"
"Unlikely, Estel. Galadriel never would have allowed such a thing."
Aragorn turned to Blackburn. "You said you are a Ranger?"
"Yes, sir."
"I am the Captain of the Rangers of the North and never once have I seen one dressed such as you and carried no weapon beyond a hunting knife."
'No weapon? You mean I lost my gun? Shit!' There went Blackburn's plans for easy escape if he needed to.
"From whence in Middle Earth do you hail from, exactly?" Aragorn sat back down in his chair, leaned back into it, and crossed his arms.
"Middle Earth, Sir? I'm not stationed in the Middle East, if that's what you're asking. I was sent to Somalia."
"Somalia? I have never heard of such a place. It has never been recorded on any map." Elrond's eyebrows knitted together as he frowned at the strange things young Blackburn was spouting.
"It's in Africa, sir," Blackburn said with and incredulous look. 'How could they know nothing of Somalia? Three hundred thousand people had died from starvation there, and they knew nothing about it?'
Elrond and Aragorn exchanged a pointed look. "I believe we will save this discussion for when you have recovered," Elrond said. "Do you have any idea as to how you were hurt?"
"Last I remember, I was about to rope into "The Mog", Mogadishu, and I missed the rope when my chopper had to evade an RPG. I don't remember anything after that, sir."
"It would seem matters concerning yourself are quite complicated. For now let us not dwell on such questions." Blackburn turned to Aragorn.
"Who exactly are you, Sir, if you don't mind my asking. You said you were the Captain of the Rangers of the North. I've never heard of any Ranger battalion with that designation."
'So much like Legolas when he was younger,' thought Elrond. "A strong spirit, inquisitive, cautious. This young man is much stronger than he appears to be. Whoever trained him did so very well.'
"My name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. In some parts of Middle Earth, I am known as Strider. However, here, amongst the Elves, I am called Estel. I am also Lord Elrond's foster son."
"Elves, sir?" Aragorn and Elrond shared another pointed look.
"You are most definitely not of this world if you know naught of the Elves."
"Not of this world?! Sir, where exactly am I?!" Blackburn was really starting to get creeped out. These two guys were really talking crazy. 'Not of this world? Middle Earth? What the hell was all this?!'
"Calm down Master Blackburn. We will explain things to you fully once you recover. As for the Elves, I am an elf, Master Blackburn. As you may or may not have noticed, my ears are pointed. This is an identifying trait of the Elves. We are taller than the average man, and we have what is often described as an ethereal glow. Other physical traits include acute hearing and sight, great speed and strength, and we are completely silent when we move. We leave no footprints on the ground, we make no noise when we walk. The city you are in, Rivendell, is an Elven city. Estel here is the only human resident."
"Sir, with all due respect," Blackburn started, "Elves are a thing of fairytales where I come from. How do I know this isn't just some trick of the enemy?"
Aragorn hunched forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees.
"Is that what your comrades call you, Blackburn?" Aragorn asked, pointing to Blackburn's name patch. Blackburn looked down at it and back up at Aragorn.
"Yes, sir."
"Alright then, Blackburn. Let me ask you this. Are you of any such rank where we would want to kidnap you?"
"No, sir."
"Would an enemy heal you and tell you to stay in bed and rest?"
"Probably not, sir." Aragorn put his hand back on Blackburn's and looked him in the eye.
"I give you my word, young Blackburn, from one Ranger to another, we do not mean you any harm, and we are being truthful with you. Once you get back on your feet, you will come to realize this, and I suspect that once you see the beauty of Rivendell, you will most definitely be enjoying your stay." He gave him another reassuring smile.
Blackburn immediately felt his spirits rise. He wasn't quite sure why hearing those words from Aragorn made a difference, but he felt like once he got out of bed, he could take on the world. Blackburn gave Aragorn a big grin that reached his eyes.
"I believe you, sir."
"Well then, young Blackburn, we will leave you to get some rest. At the rate you are recovering, you will be up and about very soon." Elrond said with a polite smile. Aragorn stood up, said goodbye to Blackburn and left the room as well.
'Elves, huh?' Blackburn thought as he immediately drifted into a dreamless sleep, entirely talked out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "What do you make of this, Father?" Aragorn asked as the two of them walked down the hallway back to Elrond's study.
"I have no idea. I will agree that the similarities in appearance are uncanny. Not only that, but personality-wise as well"
They arrived at the study and Elrond took a seat behind his desk. Aragorn sat in the chair across from him.
"What do you think we should do with him? He's obviously not from Middle Earth or even Arda for that matter. How are we supposed to send him home?"
Elrond rubbed his temple and sighed. "Again, I do not know. For the time being, we shall have to keep him here until we find out how he came to be here in the first place. I'm sure he will desire your company, Estel. You are the only other of his kin here and he will want someone familiar to help him adjust to his surroundings."
"Of course, Father." Aragorn fell silent for a moment. "Do you think he has anything to do with the Ring and the return of Sauron?" he asked, voicing the very question Elrond was asking himself.
"I'm not sure. With Frodo's arrival, Gandalf's disappearance, and the return of the Nazgul, I don't want to rule anything out. We will watch him for the next few days and see if he does anything suspicious." Elrond clasped his hands together and frowned. 'I just hope to the Valar that's not the case.'
A/N: Sorry for the huge amount of exposition here. I promise Blackburn will start having some fun in the next chapter! Oh, and one other thing. I've been getting this question already. Blackburn does indeed still have his gun. It was the black metal object that Merry was poking at and Aragorn has obviously never seen a gun before, so he was unaware that it was a weapon. But they'll figure that out soon enough. Heh heh. I'll try and update again within the next week, but it's midterms. You know how it is. But I'll give it my best shot!!