Author's Note: Just one last reminder that this is the last chapter for the LOTR section of this story. After Chapter 9, the Harry Potter section will begin and I'll move the whole thing into the Harry Potter section of this site. Thanks for staying with me, and I'll try to get a new mailing list up and running as soon as possible!

Chapter Eight

            The next morning Justin found me, and he took it upon himself to fill me in on all the nightmares he'd had since I'd attacked him.

            "Please," I begged, "I've had enough 'visions' on my own, thanks. Do you really need to tell me about yours'?"

            "It freaked me out!" he said, "And I needed to tell somebody – I'd dwell on it too much if I just kept it to myself, you know. You're like that too. Except you never tell people what's bothering you, you just dwell on it. That's why this sort of thing gets to you more than it does me."

            "Justin, it's real. Have you figured that out yet?"

            "You still shouldn't dwell on it, it'll just make your life more difficult."

            I glared at him, but I had to admit he had a point. There was a short silence, which he interpreted as a victory, and then he spoke up again.

            "Okay," he said, "So what are you thinking about?"

            "What, now?" I asked.

            "Yeah," he said, "I can tell you're upset about something. What is it?"

            "Well, for one thing I was just worried about you. You know, because of attacking you and all. . ."

            "Oh, I know that wasn't your fault. It did freak me out, but I'm over it now."

            "I know. I don't blame you – I would've been worse off than you were."

            "I bet you would. . . Okay, so what else?"

            "Justin!"

            "C'mon, I know that's not all! I'm leaving until you tell me."

            "You'll just laugh at me. . ."

            "I've laughed at you before, you'll get over it. Now spill it."

            I gave a reluctant sigh, then said, "Okay. . . I think I'm falling for Legolas."

            There was a short silence as he took in what I'd said, then he started laughing.

            "Stop it!" I whined, "I knew you'd do that, I knew it!"

            "Hey, I didn't say I wouldn't."

            "The problem is I'm trying to think of way to get us back home."

            "So you can help Becca?"

            "Yeah, partly. And I also have a feeling that Samara will leave Middle Earth when we do, and I want to get her out of here. God knows this place has enough evil to deal with without her around, you know?"

            "Yeah, I know. Just think of the damage she could do if she ever found her way to Rohan."

            "Wow, I didn't even think of that. All those horses. . ."

            "So, what does that have to do with Legolas?"

            "Well, I think I might be able to go home if I get myself into the right state of mind. Like if I – it's hard to explain. You remember that last vision I told you about? When I felt like I was really there?"

            "Yeah."

            "I went into this sort of trance that time. I think if I can make myself do that again – put myself into a trance like that – I could be able to go anywhere I want."

            "Nice. What's wrong with that?"

            "Well, nothing, except I don't think I can do it if there's a part of me that's wants to stay here—"

            "—Because of Legolas."

            "Yeah."

            "Jeez. . . Well, good luck."

            "You're no help."

            "Sorry, but I don't know what to tell you. I'm just as confused by this whole thing as you are, probably more so. Look, I'm going downstairs to get some breakfast. You coming?"

            "Okay, but afterwards I'm gonna try this trance thing and see if I can figure it out."

            "Suit yourself."

            I followed him downstairs and we ate a hearty breakfast with the Hobbits. Merry and Pippin were extremely excited about something – Pippin in particular seemed bursting to talk about it – but a few stern looks from Sam kept them quiet. Justin flashed me a knowing grin; of course they had to be thinking about the Quest, and they were probably under the impression that we weren't supposed to know about it. I was tempted to tell them that we knew already, just to put them at ease, but I knew that would lead to awkward questions as to how we knew and that would just make things worse. So I kept my mouth shut, and after I finished I excused myself and went back to my room.

            The first thing I did was sit down in the middle of the bed and shut my eyes. Then I tried to remember what it had felt like to be transported to Katie's house. The air had changed somehow, and it had looked like the whole world was melting and spinning at the same time. I concentrated hard on that memory, the thickening in the air and the muffling of the sounds around me. Nothing happened. I opened my eyes just to check, and everything looked perfectly normal; nothing had changed. Suddenly I realized that I was clutching the top sheet with both hands; I was letting my nerves get to me. I let go and tried again, shutting my eyes determinedly. I focused on searching for that tiny part of my consciousness that had awoken when I saw Becca. Still nothing.

            Maybe I'm trying too hard, I thought, Maybe I should try to relax more, or something.

            I closed my eyes again and stopped trying to focus so much. I let my mind go, trying a more meditative approach. I stayed still for several moments, trying not to get anxious. I started feeling really relaxed and sleepy, but nothing else happened. I opened my eyes again and slumped back on the bed; this was getting frustrating.

            Okay, I thought, This isn't working. What am I doing wrong?

            It occurred to me that maybe it was impossible to control the feeling, and I would just have to let the visions and slipping between worlds happen whenever they felt like it. After all, they had just happened haphazardly before. Why would it be any different now? I decided to just leave it at that and be ready for the visions when they decided to come me.

            Just then I felt a twinge in the air. I sat bolt upright, waiting. I held very still, afraid of disturbing whatever force it was that controlled the visions. And it worked! It happened faster and more smoothly this time: the room swirled gracefully out of sight and then I was in a small hallway on the outside of a closed door. But this wasn't Katie's house; I was somewhere else. The door opened and a blond woman in either her late twenties or early thirties walked out. I recognized her immediately as Katie's aunt.

            "Rachel?" I asked tentatively.

            But she didn't hear me. Her eyes were fixed on another door to my right, a door that was opened just a crack. A now familiar, sinister presence was settled inside.

            "Aiden?" Rachel called quietly; she was looking for her son.

            She opened the door and went inside. I steeled myself and followed, knowing exactly what was inside. The room was mostly empty, but right in the center of the bare wood floor was a small chair facing away from the door. And sitting in the chair was Samara, her face hidden behind her smooth veil of dark hair. A dark puddle of water had formed beneath her. She bristled when I walked in; she didn't move at all, but I felt a definite thickening of the air in the room when she realized I was there. And then she said something. She never spoke aloud, but I heard her voice as clearly as if she had: You're not supposed to be here.

            And then my annoyance at having been possessed sparked up again; she was so not going to start giving me orders now.

            "So, make me leave," I muttered challengingly.

            The tension in the air relented a bit, but didn't leave entirely. She was still angry, but she couldn't get rid of me yet. Not here with Rachel watching. Her lure for the older woman was working perfectly, and she wasn't about to give it up now. Rachel moved closer to the stone-still figure in the chair, coming around the side of the chair to see her face. Her mouth dropped open slightly when she realized that the face was covered. She was standing very close to Samara.

            Back away, I thought pleadingly, Just turn around and go back through the door. Just get out.

            Quick as lightening, Samara's hands shot up and seized Rachel's wrist. Rachel gasped sharply, struggling to pull herself away.

            "Let her go!" I yelled.

            Then the scene shifted. Rachel sat up suddenly in her bed, her face contorted with confused terror. She looked down at her left hand and pulled back the sleeve; her skin was bruised red in the shape of a small hand circling her wrist.

            My head spun as I was whisked back to my bedroom in Rivendell. My eyes popped open; I was breathing hard and I felt drained of energy. But it wasn't a bad feeling – it was actually kind of like I'd just come back from a brisk walk. I felt tired, but refreshed, like I'd accomplished something worthwhile. I wondered why I hadn't felt that way before, but then I remembered that after my encounter with Becca I'd been in a sort of dazed euphoria, because that was when I'd realized I wanted to help her.

            I still haven't figured out how to get home, I reminded myself, But this is a start at least.

            Gradually I became conscious of my current surroundings again, and then I noticed the soft, reassuring warmth of a hand holding onto mine. I looked down and saw Legolas kneeling at the foot of the bed, gently holding my hand in his.

            "I need to talk to you," I said distractedly.

            "Who was the blond woman?" he asked, as if he hadn't heard me.

            "Rachel," I said, "Katie was her niece."

            "Did they both die?"

            "No. Samara spared Rachel."

            "Why?"

            "Because she . . . helped her. She didn't mean to, but Rachel made it easier for her to reach her victims. I'm not sure how – I don't really understand what happened."

            Legolas stood up, taking my other hand and bringing me with him.

            "No one understands this fully yet," he told me, "But there is one thing I know for certain: that girl must be destroyed."

            "I know," I mumbled, "I'm working on that. . ."

            "There is so much terror in this world now. More than I had imagined. The greatest enemy Middle Earth has seen since the First Age has risen again, and one of our most powerful allies has betrayed us. And then you appeared here, out of the nets of time, bringing a new evil with you."

            "But I didn't mean to!"

            "I know that. But she must be fought. Esther, I will not be staying here much longer. I have given myself to a quest, to fight the evil we once thought was perished. And you need to do the same."

            I looked up at him; his jaw was set and his gaze was sincere. Was he suggesting that I go to Mordor with them?

            "I do not ask you to join the quest," he said, reading my thoughts, "But you must do something about the specter that followed you here. It's you she wants, no one else."

            "How do you know that?"

            "Because she clings to you. I never told you during our journey how closely she watched you, but you will not escape her until she is destroyed."

            This was exactly the opposite of what I had intended to happen: instead of me telling him that I had to leave, he was telling me that he was leaving, and that I should go back home and get rid of Samara. If only I could figure out how to get back in the first place. Suddenly I became aware that he still had both my hands held in his; he was standing very close, and his eyes held that strangely unguarded look again.

            "I know you're afraid," he said softly, "But you must not give up hope. You have to believe in yourself."

            I felt a lump rise in my throat; he wanted me to leave. He wanted me to leave Middle Earth and take on Samara by myself. But at the same time, he wanted me to stay. With a jolt, I finally realized what that unguarded look meant. I shut my eyes just to shield myself from his gaze.

            You have to tell him, I told myself firmly, This is the only chance you've got.

            "I can't do it," I whispered shakily, "And not just because I'm afraid. I don't want to leave you."

            I looked up again hesitantly, wondering what he would say next. He gazed at me quietly, searching my eyes deeply as if he was trying to read my thoughts again. Then without a word, he tightened his hold on my hands, pulled me even closer, and kissed me. It was all I could do to keep from breaking down right there and then; everything I'd been feeling since the day Justin and I had wandered into Mirkwood came rushing to the surface of my consciousness, and it was almost too much to bear. I was so confused; here I was, in the setting of my most perfect daydreams, in the arms of the only person I'd ever allowed myself to fall in love with, still being pursued by the creature that haunted my most horrible nightmares. It was everything I'd refused to take in over the past month, everything I'd been trying to tell myself was just some wildly realistic dream, no matter how many times I'd told Justin it wasn't. There was only one thing I could do; I kissed him back. He let go of one of my hands and slid his hand behind my head, drawing me deeper into the kiss. It seemed to last for an eternity, but when we parted I felt like it had lasted only an instant. Legolas stroked my hair and rested his forehead against mine.

            "I don't want to leave you either," he whispered, "But that is not for either of us to decide. You understand why, don't you?"

            I nodded, and leaned heavily against him, clinging to his shoulders for support. He embraced me warmly and didn't say another word. I don't know how long we stood like that. My mind was racing; even with the breakthrough I'd just made, I knew there was no way I could concentrate on getting back home now. I wouldn't stop trying, but I had absolutely no confidence that I would be successful. I didn't want to even think about it.

            Legolas told me that he, along with the rest of the Fellowship, would be leaving the following morning at daybreak. He wanted me to meet him under an archway near the gates to Rivendell beforehand. I wasn't sure why, but I agreed instantly. There was so much to think about now. . . After he left, I returned to my bed and forced myself to think of a different way to get back home. I sighed; it was going to be a long wait until tomorrow morning.