Disclaimer: Same as it always is. The only thing I own here is Verity.

Author Note: This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful person who printed out the words of Leaving on a Jet Plane, by John Denver. Oh yes, thanks to Ara, Cheyenne, Tári, Lissi, and Thalion (my students' Elvish and English nicknames)--for helping with this chapter as well as chapters 4, 5, & 6. Remember, write, write, and study. : )

To the rest of you, read and review!

Beware the teacher that wears elf ears to her class! You might just find out that I'm your English teacher.

~"Raven" Sirens Muse

Chapter Two: Leaving on a Jet Plane with Hooves

Verity didn't see much of Glorfindel during the next few days. She had the sneaking suspicion that he still was spying on her, but she could never prove it. It's not that she didn't mind. She might have done the same thing had she been in his place. She loved her comfort and peace that came from a well-ordered knowledge of life. To have such a thing ripped out from under her would be devastating. Of course, in its own way, her arrival to Middle Earth was. She was uncomfortably aware of the Dwarves impatience as Gandalf tired to figure out from whence she came and what she came for. The days passed slowly. Mostly with helping Bilbo do various chores. She found a wonderful friend in the hobbit for he was so very much like herself. A homebody, carefree in his own little way. Although the extended presence of the dwarves distressed him a bit. She had wonderful talks with him about nearly everything. Recipes was his favorite topic. Thankfully, Verity was a fair cook and knew quite a few recipes. Bilbo tried out everyone and was quite pleased with their results. Finally, the morning dawned when Thorin proclaimed that they were to be off. So without a word of warning, they hustled out of bed before the sun rose, ate a quick breakfast, and left. Verity was still abed during their hurried escape and awoke a bit before Bilbo to find their note. Exactly like the story, Thorin politely insulted Bilbo like only the proud dwarf could. Verity sighed and set about to making breakfast. Bilbo was pulled out of bed by the wizard not too much later, who gave him a bit of food and pushed him out the door...without his handkerchief, of course. Verity turned to follow the hobbit, but was stopped by Gandalf. "You and I have business in Rivendell."

Verity had never ridden a horse before. Not only was she intimidated by the animals (not scared, mind you, only intimidated), but she also didn't like them very much. Gandalf mounted his horse with the ease of a born-horseman and glanced down at Verity, who stood, gazing suspiciously at her little, grey mare. "I don't ride." she said quickly.

She could have sworn he muttered an oath under his breath, but he helped her astride anyway and she grasped the reins in a death-grip. "By the Valar." Gandalf said, irritably. "You will ride with Lord Glorfindel."

Verity frowned and turned to see the silent elf several feet behind her. She half-fell, half-jumped from her horse, under the gaze of both annoyed men and hobbled over to Glorfindel. "A hand, my Lord elf?"

Glorfindel may have been angry, but he was a gentleman. He helped her to sit in front of him, so she would not fall off and soon they were on their way.

The ride was long and Verity hated long travel. A song came to her mind. All my bags are packed/I'm ready to go/I'm standing here outside your door/I hate to wake you up to say goodbye/But the dawn is breakin', it's early morn/The taxi's waitin'/He's blowin' his horn/Already I'm so lonesome I could die/So kiss me and smile for me/Tell me that you'll wait for me/Hold me like you'll never let me go/'Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane/ I don't know when I'll be back again/Oh babe/I hate to go.

She sighed silently. Home. And here she was leaving what had been home for the past week. A place she'd grown to trust, only to be ripped out again. Already I'm so lonesome I could die. Tears trickled down her face and that deep emptiness--that comes from having been around many people, to go back to being around only a few--spread though her. She felt as if someone had come and cut everything out of her. She was leaving again. And she didn't know if she'd ever see Bag End or the Shire again. I wonder if I can die here? She thought amid the tears. Die and be uprooted again like Glorfindel. Why can I not have peace? The tears were falling steadily now and Verity bent her head slightly over to let her hair shield her from the men's eyes. Glorfindel was no fool. And when her shoulders began to shake slightly, his suspicions were confirmed. "Are you ill, Lady Verity?"

The head shook emphatically.

"Tell me what troubles you."

"Home." the word was quiet and full of the pain of the emptiness inside her.

"Aye, to be home again. To rest and be free from worry." his voice was gentle and soft.

"You don't know what it's like. To be thrust from the world you once knew." the intellect in Verity felt the need to explain.

"Do I? From Gondolin to this world I came. Do you think I did not mourn for my people? All I held dear?"
To hear the elf quietly bare his heart to her was more than Verity's fragile emotions could take. Shame flooded her for being so selfish and the tears fell more violently. Hesitantly, a hand wrapped through her hair and grasped her shoulder. "I'm sorry." she muttered.

"There is no need to be. Your words were true and had I not been so stubborn, I would have admitted that I too had been thinking those things. Questioning my faith..."

Oh good Lord! she thought through her pain. I've created a Middle Earth agnostic! "Don't doubt." she half-sobbed. "No, I was wrong."

"Dear Lady Verity, the questions have been on my lips for many ages of this world."

Verity could not answer. All loneliness, shame, and anger with herself, swept through her entire being. It was all she could do to stay on the horse. She wanted to cry aloud, to weep and wail, and pound the earth, but she could only weep quietly. In a moment, she was pressed against the elf's chest, arms around her shaking form. She heard him utter something in Elvish and felt warmth course through her. Power and innocence combined with her own great hobbit-like innocence. A person free from the evils of selfish passion and death. Much like a child who didn't know much of the world around her. Such had been Verity's life. Not one religion demanded. No, not in the least. She was to be in the world and yet not of it. However, she had sequestered herself in a tiny town in the far outskirts of San Antonio, Texas. She had gone to the tiny school her entire life and the even smaller college. The worst scandal was when Jon Belthrop stole some cds from the store. She had never been much of a movie person, preferring books to TV. And she didn't have a TV because for financial reasons. Although she did enjoy the old movie channels whenever she visited her mother. All this had made up her life and now she was thrust into what would surely be a war and death. As helpless to stop the future as Bilbo Baggins who would see his friends die in a battle with the goblins before all this was over. She wondered her own part in this world. And the thoughts and loneliness of home hit even harder and she sobbed a great deal more, earning a stare from Gandalf. Spent by her tears, she slowly fell asleep in the Elvenlord's arms.

They rode through the day and Verity woke sometime around midnight. She was wrapped in a cloak and still leaning against Glorfindel. Color sprang to her cheeks and she sat up. "Do you feel better?"

She nodded and muttered a thanks. "Where are we?" she asked after a few moments.

"We passed Bree not but an hour ago."

No wonder I'm so sore! Darn jet planes with hooves! The memory of the song didn't bring back any pain. She smiled and began humming it. She had a fair voice, nothing great, but she did love to sing. Under her breath, she spoke aloud.

"So many times, I've let you down.

So many times, I've played around.

I tell you now, they don't mean a thing!

Every place I go, I'll think of you.

Every song I sing, I'll sing for you.

And when I come back, I'll wear your wedding ring!

So kiss me and smile for me,

Tell me that you'll wait for me.

Hold me like you'll never let me go!

Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane.

I don't know when I'll be back again.

Oh babe, I hate to go."

"A sad song." Glorfindel remarked.

"Leaving on a Jet Plane, by John Denver...yeah, it is kind of a sad song."

She sighed and wrapped the cloak a bit more tightly about her body.

They traveled on for many more hours and got to the Last Bridge about sunrise. Verity was asleep again, but woke up at the sound of the rushing water. "The bridge is gone." she heard Glorfindel say.

"We shall have to ford it." was Gandalf's answer.

Verity glance apprehensively at the rushing waters. She wasn't afraid of water and she was quite a good swimmer. No, a feeling was creeping into her heart. A foreboding.

Glorfindel dismounted and that plan was for him to lead the horse and Verity across and then go help lead Gandalf's horse across. Hooves hit water and Verity was sprayed by the splashing. It was hard to hold the reins. The horse was having trouble finding his footing. It happened in slow motion. Verity lost grip and slipped off into the river. Air! Long strokes to try to get to the surface. Shouts. She was here only to drown in a river. How...pointless. How stupid. A voice was heard. She is safe. Safe? Hardly. She couldn't breathe. Lights sparkled overhead like some sick dream that couldn't stop playing in slow motion. She fought. She had no idea why. But she fought to live. Live in this strange world where there was no peace. No rest. She fought to live with the unrest, the danger. And she knew no more.