Disclaimer: All Star Trek related characters and concepts belong to Paramount; all Lord of the Rings related characters and concepts belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. I am merely borrowing them.
:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
THE SHADOW RIDERS
Chapter Twenty: Many Partings
Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate;
And though I oft have passed them by,
A day will come at last when I
Shall take the hidden paths that run
West of the Moon, east of the Sun.
-J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings
:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
Malcolm woke but did not open his eyes. All around him was blessed softness and warmth, and he did not want to wake up. The bloody targeting scanners were probably out of alignment again; whoever was on duty could do well enough without him for a while...
A bird chirped somewhere nearby, and his brow furrowed in confusion. How did a bird get in his quarters?
He opened his eyes with a sigh, and it took him a moment to remember where he was—Minas Tirith, in the guest quarters he had shared with Gandalf and Pippin, and the sun was streaming through the window. He lay for a little longer, thinking on how he had gotten here, but it was a blur of faces and images that were too confusing to try and sort out. He'd come back, flying with the Eagles, but he'd been too exhausted to do anything but stumble to bed.
His stomach growled, and he sat up slowly, looking around for anything to eat. There was nothing, but a hobbit was curled up asleep on an armchair in the corner. Not Pippin, but Merry, looking rather more battered than the last time Malcolm had seen him. Malcolm smiled and slipped out of bed. He found a set of clothes, clean and pressed, sitting on the bedside table, and put them on, feeling much refreshed. Merry stirred as he was pulling on his boots, and blinked sleepily.
"And here I was to wait for you to wake, and you catch me asleep!" yawned the hobbit. "Gandalf said you'd be up and be hungry before long."
"I feel I could eat a horse," said Malcolm, grinning.
"Whyever would you want to eat a horse?" said Merry, his eyes wide. "Surely we can find you something better than that."
"It's an expression," Malcolm told him, and splashed water from the basin on his cheeks. "Do I have to ask if you are hungry?"
"Of course not," said Merry, jumping up. "Hobbits are always ready for a good table! Gandalf told me to take you to Hoshi, and there would be supper there."
"Is it suppertime already?" said Malcolm, opening the door for the hobbit.
"You've been asleep for a good long while," said Merry, leading him out into the streets and heading towards the Houses of Healing. "The Eagles brought you and your friend back yesterday afternoon, and it's nearly sunset now." He looked up at the wizard, squinting against the still-bright sky. "Even wizards get exhausted, eh?"
"Of course," said Malcolm. "Though I think Gandalf would be the last one to admit to it!"
Merry chuckled. "Éowyn has been asking about you since this morning, too," he added. "And Faramir's up and about now, too, so there will be good company."
"What about the rest of your Fellowship?" asked Malcolm.
"They are coming back," said Merry, "and they will be here in a few days. They must ride all the way from the Black Gate, after all. Frodo and Sam are with them too, but they will not be awake yet."
He followed Merry up a set of stairs, where the hobbit knocked on a wooden door. "Come in," said a woman's cheerful voice, and they entered.
Hoshi, looking much better than she had yesterday, was propped against a set of pillows, dressed in a white nightgown. Éowyn, one arm in a sling, sat near the bed, as well as Faramir, who looked slightly pale still, and Gandalf, who was the picture of health as always.
"Slug-a-bed, have you had a nice lie-in?" said the old wizard teasingly.
"I have, and I hope you've not eaten all the breakfast," Malcolm retorted.
"Of course not," said Gandalf. "Our good hobbit here did it for me."
"I did not!" cried Merry. Hoshi and Éowyn both laughed. Faramir rolled his eyes.
"After talking to this rascal for a few days," he said to Malcolm, "I have decided two things. One, hobbits are admirable creatures, and two, never, ever let them near your kitchens." But he smiled as he said it, getting up stiffly and bowing to Malcolm. There was a tray of food sitting on the table behind him, and he beckoned to the wizard, who fell to gladly.
They had a good party going for a while, until Gandalf caught Faramir's deep yawn and sent him, Éowyn, and Merry off to bed with a stern reprimand. Malcolm bade them goodnight and sat with Hoshi until she fell asleep, holding her hand and looking at her face, hardly believing he had actually succeeded in rescuing her.
How guilt-stricken he had felt yesterday, upon seeing her. She was a wraith, a pale shadow of her former self. She had lost weight, and her bones showed through the skin. Bruises and cuts marred her skin, and her eyes had had deep, dark shadows under them. The rest of her skin looked pale and parched, and her lips were cracked and bleeding. He shuddered softly at the thought. If he had not found her in time, she would certainly have died.
"She fought very hard against Sauron," said Gandalf softly, standing in the doorway. Malcolm wondered how long he had been there. He gently put Hoshi's hand down at her side. She mumbled in her sleep and turned over as he tiptoed out of the room. "She resisted more than many, though it was not until the last that he turned his full attention on her."
"I could not resist him," said Malcolm, almost bitterly. "He had my mind within seconds."
"But he spared his full attention to you in that instant," said Gandalf comfortingly. "Hoshi spent long enough under his influence that she grew stronger, and even then he did not think her enough of a threat to give her his full attention."
"He's gone, anyway, and that's all that matters," said Malcolm. "Frodo succeeded."
"Yes, he did," said Gandalf, smiling more widely than Malcolm had ever seen him smile. "Against all odds, he did what he had to."
Malcolm nodded, and they walked in silence for a moment, looking up at the dark sky above. "And what will you do now, tórdilthen? For you have rescued your companion, and Sauron is defeated. Shadowfax brought the palantír of the White Tower back from Mordor. You can go home again," said Gandalf after a time.
"I...I can..." said Malcolm, hesitantly, for in truth he did not know what he wanted. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall near them, remembering Enterprise and the captain and Trip and T'Pol and Travis and Phlox and even Major Hayes. But he thought of Aragorn and Pippin and Legolas and Gimli and Merry as well, and Éowyn and Éomer and Faramir.
Gandalf was sitting on a porch across the street from him when he finally opened his eyes. "I do not know which to choose," Malcolm said, his voice cracking. "I would stay here, but I would not like to abandon my friends on my ship, either."
The old wizard looked at him carefully. "You have become a part of this world," he said softly. "But there is a greater part that comes from something else. Could you give that up? You had a purpose here, my friend, but you had one there as well. And though your task here is done, you still have a task to perform in your other world."
He stood up and stared upwards at the stars. "Do you know what I saw in Frodo's mind when I looked into it, before I left him in Cormallen with Aragorn's company? On the slope of Mount Doom he could barely climb. He was close to giving up, and Sam as well, and then from somewhere they found renewed strength. They could go on. And he went on, and reached the Cracks of Doom."
Gandalf fixed his gaze on Malcolm. "You and Hoshi fought Sauron at that moment, fought to stop him gaining a tool through the palantír that he could have used against us all, whether the Ring was destroyed or not. He could not weigh down the Ring and slow the hobbits down at that moment. You gave them the opportunity to do what they must." He put out a hand and gripped the younger wizard's shoulder. "And now that the war is over, what will you do? Your people must be given an opportunity to save themselves from the threat that looms over them."
Malcolm bowed his head. "You speak truth," he said. "But it is very difficult, Gandalf, to leave behind your friends. And though this world was not my own, it has become dear to me. I would like to know it better."
"You have a little time, I think, before you must go back to your own world," said Gandalf.
"I could stay here," Malcolm said quietly. "There are others who would do what I would. There are others who could defend the ship." He thought of Major Hayes and the MACOs, of his own armory crew, and though he trusted and respected all of their abilities, still he felt a twinge of guilt leaving them without direction.
Gandalf shrugged slowly. "It is your choice, my friend, and I would speak falsely if I said I did not wish you to stay and be a part of this world." A great weariness seemed to settle about his face, his eyes gazing off into the distance. "And yet I myself will linger only a little longer."
"What does that mean?" whispered Malcolm.
"The Sea calls to us all," said Gandalf. A smell of salt air, drifting on the breeze, reached Malcolm's nose, and the duality within him struggled as it had not for many days; one part rejoiced, and the other recoiled. "The Undying Lands bring us home." The older wizard gazed out towards the west, where Malcolm knew the seas to lay. "From the Grey Havens white ships will set sail, taking away at last the elder peoples of Middle-earth. Those weary of soul and spirit will find new life across the Seas. They will follow the Straight Road and they shall pass away from Middle-earth."
"I don't understand," he replied slowly. "I don't understand what the Undying Lands are, though I remember them."
"Ah, but it changes when you have had a taste of the mortal existence, Elowë," said Gandalf. "You become something different, something greater than spirit and flesh... It is not something that can be explained in words."
He heard the cry of the gull overhead, though they were some distance from the Sea, and wondered at it. A cloud scudded across the sky, the wind blowing from the west, and Gandalf breathed in deeply. "Someday you will come to realize what that means, tórdilthen," he said. "Someday you will know that the end of your journey draws near, and when it is time for you to move on. You will know, and you will follow the Straight Road." Their eyes met, blue to blue, young to old, and Malcolm shivered, a deep sorrow filling his chest. "Do you think you are ready to follow that road, my friend?"
"I do not, Gandalf," whispered Malcolm, so softly that he barely heard himself. The wizard-sense within him grasped at the paths of the future, wondering where each led, and none did he see himself in Middle-earth... at least, none in Middle-earth where he was happy. On Enterprise he still had a task to fulfill, and he must not abandon it.
"I do not want to go, Gandalf," said Malcolm with a choked sob. "I must, though."
The old wizard said nothing, merely putting an arm about the younger wizard's shoulders, and together they stood on the streets of Minas Tirith until the sun came up, casting brilliant rays of purple and gold across the sky.
A new dawn—for a new world. And it broke Malcolm's heart to leave it.
:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
He went back to see Hoshi when the sun had risen high above the mountains. He had not slept, but he was not tired. His long rest the day before had served to rejuvenate him well enough.
She was sitting up in bed again, picking at breakfast. "It seems strange to eat again," she said. "I had food in the Black Tower, but I don't really remember eating it. Just bits and pieces keep coming back to me, Malcolm."
He sat down next to her on the bed, moving the tray out of the way. "It's probably better that way," he said. "Do you really want to remember that place?"
Hoshi cocked her head at him. "In some ways I want to block it from my memory totally," she said. "And in others, I want to remember. I want to keep that from ever happening again. I lost too much of my time to Sauron's machinations. I don't want to be so out of control of my own mind again, ever."
"I doubt you'll meet anyone like Sauron ever again," replied Malcolm, and hoped desperately that it was true. "And you grew strong enough to resist him in the end. You'll be strong enough to fight anyone else that tries something like that."
She looked at him with those deep black eyes of hers, shrewd as always. "What's wrong?" she said, taking his hand in her own.
"I know you haven't had the best of times here," said Malcolm wryly, looking away. "I have to bring you home, back to Enterprise where it's safe and where you'll be happy." He took a deep breath. "We both need to go back."
Hoshi smiled, a radiant grin that lit up her entire face. "You have a way to bring us home, Malcolm? That's wonderful!" She sobered abruptly, staring at him. "But you don't want... you don't want to go?"
He opened his mouth to deny it, but could not stop the truth from spilling out. "Hoshi, I was at home on Enterprise. And yet, I feel at home here, too. I feel as though I could come to be part of this world. Maybe I already am." He gave her a sad smile. "I see the beauty of this place and I want to keep it forever."
She looked at him, sorrow in her eyes. "But," said Malcolm slowly, "I think about Enterprise, and I have a purpose there. We were never supposed to be here, really. We both belong on Enterprise, and as much as I would like to stay, I could never forget about the people on that ship. It is my home, Hoshi; as much as this place could come to be my home, Enterprise already is."
"Oh, Malcolm," said Hoshi. "We were supposed to be here, whatever you may think. We may ride in the shadows of the great ones, but we were supposed to be here. And—and—I would not go back to Enterprise without you there." She threw her arms around his neck and wept softly into his shirt.
With a soft exahalation he lifted her chin and wiped the tears from her cheeks, but he could not stop them from falling down his own. The salt mingled together on their lips, bitter and sweet at the same time. Malcolm drew his arms around her, simply holding his Hoshi, vaguely wondering if this was a dream, and if it was, then he did not care.
She drew back from him after a long silence and met his eyes and said simply, "Let's go home, Malcolm."
:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
They rode out two days later, Gandalf, Merry, Malcolm, and Hoshi, waving goodbye to Faramir and Éowyn, who had elected to stay in Minas Tirith to await the king. They took their time about the ride, taking a leisurely three days to reach the campsite on the fields of Cormallen.
Merry was put to work at once, and Gandalf immediately went to visit the still-sleeping Sam and Frodo, so Hoshi and Malcolm were left to wander about on their own time. The camp was lush and green and beautiful, so they merely enjoyed it, spending time with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, and the two hobbits when they were freed from their duties. They wandered the hills of Ithilien, marveling at the beauty of the countryside, and lounged about the camp, enjoying the days of relaxation that had been so long in coming. Nearly two months had passed since their arrival here, and they never had managed to get in any shore leave. And of course, at times they escaped from the others and went off on their own time, Gimli giving them knowing and infuriating looks when he caught them slipping away from the campsite at night.
Malcolm stood next to Hoshi at the celebrations for the Ring-bearers, watching with some amusement as Frodo and Sam were honored, the two hobbits seeming rather uncomfortable with the whole thing. When the feasting began he took Hoshi's hand and whispered, "It's time for us to go."
They went out, sticking to the shadows, and rode away from the camp in the darkness, the lanterns soon only distant pinpricks of light in the black night. He knew where he was going, and soon the rushing of the river Anduin met their ears, and they rode along it for a long time without speaking, the horses running faster than horses should be able to (courtesy of Malcolm), until at last they came to the Sea as the morning light peeked out from the mountains at their backs.
They dismounted and took the saddles from the horses, letting them free. "They will return to the camp by the afternoon," said Malcolm, going across the long empty beach to the very edge of the water. In him some deep part sang at the beauty of the waves lapping at the shore, and the crying of the gulls above. He took off his boots and walked into the sea, feeling for the first time in his life no fear at the sight of so much water.
From his bag he took the palantír and bade Hoshi come near, and with her hand atop his on the smooth surface of the seeing stone they both thought of Enterprise and the time far in the future from which they had traveled.
The dawn lightened and the sky grew streaked with purple and orange, and as the sun peeked from behind the eastern mountains, Malcolm felt himself pulled away, whirling out of thought and time and into the great wheeling sea of stars. On and on they traveled, never parting hands, until they at last fell to the ground under an afternoon sun. Hoshi sighed and laid back upon the sand, unconscious, and Malcolm looked out to the sea.
:I leave you now,: said a voice, and he raised his eyes to see a shining figure before him, made of silver light and sunbeams. :Goodbye, Malcolm Reed. May the grace of the Valar touch you. The Road beckons you onward, my friend and my self.:
For a moment Malcolm gazed at the silver being, who had his own face, and then blackness began to tug at his consciousness, where a sense of indescribable loss filled his heart. He clutched the palantír to him even as he fell back to the sand, and would not let go until a figure in a blue jumpsuit took it forcibly from his fingers, and unconsciousness overwhelmed him completely.
:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
I think this was the hardest chapter to write, because I didn't want to bring Malcolm back to Enterprise either... but it wouldn't work out right if I didn't. Still a little more to come, so keep an eye out for it.
:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
THE SHADOW RIDERS
Chapter Twenty: Many Partings
Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate;
And though I oft have passed them by,
A day will come at last when I
Shall take the hidden paths that run
West of the Moon, east of the Sun.
-J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings
:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
Malcolm woke but did not open his eyes. All around him was blessed softness and warmth, and he did not want to wake up. The bloody targeting scanners were probably out of alignment again; whoever was on duty could do well enough without him for a while...
A bird chirped somewhere nearby, and his brow furrowed in confusion. How did a bird get in his quarters?
He opened his eyes with a sigh, and it took him a moment to remember where he was—Minas Tirith, in the guest quarters he had shared with Gandalf and Pippin, and the sun was streaming through the window. He lay for a little longer, thinking on how he had gotten here, but it was a blur of faces and images that were too confusing to try and sort out. He'd come back, flying with the Eagles, but he'd been too exhausted to do anything but stumble to bed.
His stomach growled, and he sat up slowly, looking around for anything to eat. There was nothing, but a hobbit was curled up asleep on an armchair in the corner. Not Pippin, but Merry, looking rather more battered than the last time Malcolm had seen him. Malcolm smiled and slipped out of bed. He found a set of clothes, clean and pressed, sitting on the bedside table, and put them on, feeling much refreshed. Merry stirred as he was pulling on his boots, and blinked sleepily.
"And here I was to wait for you to wake, and you catch me asleep!" yawned the hobbit. "Gandalf said you'd be up and be hungry before long."
"I feel I could eat a horse," said Malcolm, grinning.
"Whyever would you want to eat a horse?" said Merry, his eyes wide. "Surely we can find you something better than that."
"It's an expression," Malcolm told him, and splashed water from the basin on his cheeks. "Do I have to ask if you are hungry?"
"Of course not," said Merry, jumping up. "Hobbits are always ready for a good table! Gandalf told me to take you to Hoshi, and there would be supper there."
"Is it suppertime already?" said Malcolm, opening the door for the hobbit.
"You've been asleep for a good long while," said Merry, leading him out into the streets and heading towards the Houses of Healing. "The Eagles brought you and your friend back yesterday afternoon, and it's nearly sunset now." He looked up at the wizard, squinting against the still-bright sky. "Even wizards get exhausted, eh?"
"Of course," said Malcolm. "Though I think Gandalf would be the last one to admit to it!"
Merry chuckled. "Éowyn has been asking about you since this morning, too," he added. "And Faramir's up and about now, too, so there will be good company."
"What about the rest of your Fellowship?" asked Malcolm.
"They are coming back," said Merry, "and they will be here in a few days. They must ride all the way from the Black Gate, after all. Frodo and Sam are with them too, but they will not be awake yet."
He followed Merry up a set of stairs, where the hobbit knocked on a wooden door. "Come in," said a woman's cheerful voice, and they entered.
Hoshi, looking much better than she had yesterday, was propped against a set of pillows, dressed in a white nightgown. Éowyn, one arm in a sling, sat near the bed, as well as Faramir, who looked slightly pale still, and Gandalf, who was the picture of health as always.
"Slug-a-bed, have you had a nice lie-in?" said the old wizard teasingly.
"I have, and I hope you've not eaten all the breakfast," Malcolm retorted.
"Of course not," said Gandalf. "Our good hobbit here did it for me."
"I did not!" cried Merry. Hoshi and Éowyn both laughed. Faramir rolled his eyes.
"After talking to this rascal for a few days," he said to Malcolm, "I have decided two things. One, hobbits are admirable creatures, and two, never, ever let them near your kitchens." But he smiled as he said it, getting up stiffly and bowing to Malcolm. There was a tray of food sitting on the table behind him, and he beckoned to the wizard, who fell to gladly.
They had a good party going for a while, until Gandalf caught Faramir's deep yawn and sent him, Éowyn, and Merry off to bed with a stern reprimand. Malcolm bade them goodnight and sat with Hoshi until she fell asleep, holding her hand and looking at her face, hardly believing he had actually succeeded in rescuing her.
How guilt-stricken he had felt yesterday, upon seeing her. She was a wraith, a pale shadow of her former self. She had lost weight, and her bones showed through the skin. Bruises and cuts marred her skin, and her eyes had had deep, dark shadows under them. The rest of her skin looked pale and parched, and her lips were cracked and bleeding. He shuddered softly at the thought. If he had not found her in time, she would certainly have died.
"She fought very hard against Sauron," said Gandalf softly, standing in the doorway. Malcolm wondered how long he had been there. He gently put Hoshi's hand down at her side. She mumbled in her sleep and turned over as he tiptoed out of the room. "She resisted more than many, though it was not until the last that he turned his full attention on her."
"I could not resist him," said Malcolm, almost bitterly. "He had my mind within seconds."
"But he spared his full attention to you in that instant," said Gandalf comfortingly. "Hoshi spent long enough under his influence that she grew stronger, and even then he did not think her enough of a threat to give her his full attention."
"He's gone, anyway, and that's all that matters," said Malcolm. "Frodo succeeded."
"Yes, he did," said Gandalf, smiling more widely than Malcolm had ever seen him smile. "Against all odds, he did what he had to."
Malcolm nodded, and they walked in silence for a moment, looking up at the dark sky above. "And what will you do now, tórdilthen? For you have rescued your companion, and Sauron is defeated. Shadowfax brought the palantír of the White Tower back from Mordor. You can go home again," said Gandalf after a time.
"I...I can..." said Malcolm, hesitantly, for in truth he did not know what he wanted. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall near them, remembering Enterprise and the captain and Trip and T'Pol and Travis and Phlox and even Major Hayes. But he thought of Aragorn and Pippin and Legolas and Gimli and Merry as well, and Éowyn and Éomer and Faramir.
Gandalf was sitting on a porch across the street from him when he finally opened his eyes. "I do not know which to choose," Malcolm said, his voice cracking. "I would stay here, but I would not like to abandon my friends on my ship, either."
The old wizard looked at him carefully. "You have become a part of this world," he said softly. "But there is a greater part that comes from something else. Could you give that up? You had a purpose here, my friend, but you had one there as well. And though your task here is done, you still have a task to perform in your other world."
He stood up and stared upwards at the stars. "Do you know what I saw in Frodo's mind when I looked into it, before I left him in Cormallen with Aragorn's company? On the slope of Mount Doom he could barely climb. He was close to giving up, and Sam as well, and then from somewhere they found renewed strength. They could go on. And he went on, and reached the Cracks of Doom."
Gandalf fixed his gaze on Malcolm. "You and Hoshi fought Sauron at that moment, fought to stop him gaining a tool through the palantír that he could have used against us all, whether the Ring was destroyed or not. He could not weigh down the Ring and slow the hobbits down at that moment. You gave them the opportunity to do what they must." He put out a hand and gripped the younger wizard's shoulder. "And now that the war is over, what will you do? Your people must be given an opportunity to save themselves from the threat that looms over them."
Malcolm bowed his head. "You speak truth," he said. "But it is very difficult, Gandalf, to leave behind your friends. And though this world was not my own, it has become dear to me. I would like to know it better."
"You have a little time, I think, before you must go back to your own world," said Gandalf.
"I could stay here," Malcolm said quietly. "There are others who would do what I would. There are others who could defend the ship." He thought of Major Hayes and the MACOs, of his own armory crew, and though he trusted and respected all of their abilities, still he felt a twinge of guilt leaving them without direction.
Gandalf shrugged slowly. "It is your choice, my friend, and I would speak falsely if I said I did not wish you to stay and be a part of this world." A great weariness seemed to settle about his face, his eyes gazing off into the distance. "And yet I myself will linger only a little longer."
"What does that mean?" whispered Malcolm.
"The Sea calls to us all," said Gandalf. A smell of salt air, drifting on the breeze, reached Malcolm's nose, and the duality within him struggled as it had not for many days; one part rejoiced, and the other recoiled. "The Undying Lands bring us home." The older wizard gazed out towards the west, where Malcolm knew the seas to lay. "From the Grey Havens white ships will set sail, taking away at last the elder peoples of Middle-earth. Those weary of soul and spirit will find new life across the Seas. They will follow the Straight Road and they shall pass away from Middle-earth."
"I don't understand," he replied slowly. "I don't understand what the Undying Lands are, though I remember them."
"Ah, but it changes when you have had a taste of the mortal existence, Elowë," said Gandalf. "You become something different, something greater than spirit and flesh... It is not something that can be explained in words."
He heard the cry of the gull overhead, though they were some distance from the Sea, and wondered at it. A cloud scudded across the sky, the wind blowing from the west, and Gandalf breathed in deeply. "Someday you will come to realize what that means, tórdilthen," he said. "Someday you will know that the end of your journey draws near, and when it is time for you to move on. You will know, and you will follow the Straight Road." Their eyes met, blue to blue, young to old, and Malcolm shivered, a deep sorrow filling his chest. "Do you think you are ready to follow that road, my friend?"
"I do not, Gandalf," whispered Malcolm, so softly that he barely heard himself. The wizard-sense within him grasped at the paths of the future, wondering where each led, and none did he see himself in Middle-earth... at least, none in Middle-earth where he was happy. On Enterprise he still had a task to fulfill, and he must not abandon it.
"I do not want to go, Gandalf," said Malcolm with a choked sob. "I must, though."
The old wizard said nothing, merely putting an arm about the younger wizard's shoulders, and together they stood on the streets of Minas Tirith until the sun came up, casting brilliant rays of purple and gold across the sky.
A new dawn—for a new world. And it broke Malcolm's heart to leave it.
:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
He went back to see Hoshi when the sun had risen high above the mountains. He had not slept, but he was not tired. His long rest the day before had served to rejuvenate him well enough.
She was sitting up in bed again, picking at breakfast. "It seems strange to eat again," she said. "I had food in the Black Tower, but I don't really remember eating it. Just bits and pieces keep coming back to me, Malcolm."
He sat down next to her on the bed, moving the tray out of the way. "It's probably better that way," he said. "Do you really want to remember that place?"
Hoshi cocked her head at him. "In some ways I want to block it from my memory totally," she said. "And in others, I want to remember. I want to keep that from ever happening again. I lost too much of my time to Sauron's machinations. I don't want to be so out of control of my own mind again, ever."
"I doubt you'll meet anyone like Sauron ever again," replied Malcolm, and hoped desperately that it was true. "And you grew strong enough to resist him in the end. You'll be strong enough to fight anyone else that tries something like that."
She looked at him with those deep black eyes of hers, shrewd as always. "What's wrong?" she said, taking his hand in her own.
"I know you haven't had the best of times here," said Malcolm wryly, looking away. "I have to bring you home, back to Enterprise where it's safe and where you'll be happy." He took a deep breath. "We both need to go back."
Hoshi smiled, a radiant grin that lit up her entire face. "You have a way to bring us home, Malcolm? That's wonderful!" She sobered abruptly, staring at him. "But you don't want... you don't want to go?"
He opened his mouth to deny it, but could not stop the truth from spilling out. "Hoshi, I was at home on Enterprise. And yet, I feel at home here, too. I feel as though I could come to be part of this world. Maybe I already am." He gave her a sad smile. "I see the beauty of this place and I want to keep it forever."
She looked at him, sorrow in her eyes. "But," said Malcolm slowly, "I think about Enterprise, and I have a purpose there. We were never supposed to be here, really. We both belong on Enterprise, and as much as I would like to stay, I could never forget about the people on that ship. It is my home, Hoshi; as much as this place could come to be my home, Enterprise already is."
"Oh, Malcolm," said Hoshi. "We were supposed to be here, whatever you may think. We may ride in the shadows of the great ones, but we were supposed to be here. And—and—I would not go back to Enterprise without you there." She threw her arms around his neck and wept softly into his shirt.
With a soft exahalation he lifted her chin and wiped the tears from her cheeks, but he could not stop them from falling down his own. The salt mingled together on their lips, bitter and sweet at the same time. Malcolm drew his arms around her, simply holding his Hoshi, vaguely wondering if this was a dream, and if it was, then he did not care.
She drew back from him after a long silence and met his eyes and said simply, "Let's go home, Malcolm."
:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
They rode out two days later, Gandalf, Merry, Malcolm, and Hoshi, waving goodbye to Faramir and Éowyn, who had elected to stay in Minas Tirith to await the king. They took their time about the ride, taking a leisurely three days to reach the campsite on the fields of Cormallen.
Merry was put to work at once, and Gandalf immediately went to visit the still-sleeping Sam and Frodo, so Hoshi and Malcolm were left to wander about on their own time. The camp was lush and green and beautiful, so they merely enjoyed it, spending time with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, and the two hobbits when they were freed from their duties. They wandered the hills of Ithilien, marveling at the beauty of the countryside, and lounged about the camp, enjoying the days of relaxation that had been so long in coming. Nearly two months had passed since their arrival here, and they never had managed to get in any shore leave. And of course, at times they escaped from the others and went off on their own time, Gimli giving them knowing and infuriating looks when he caught them slipping away from the campsite at night.
Malcolm stood next to Hoshi at the celebrations for the Ring-bearers, watching with some amusement as Frodo and Sam were honored, the two hobbits seeming rather uncomfortable with the whole thing. When the feasting began he took Hoshi's hand and whispered, "It's time for us to go."
They went out, sticking to the shadows, and rode away from the camp in the darkness, the lanterns soon only distant pinpricks of light in the black night. He knew where he was going, and soon the rushing of the river Anduin met their ears, and they rode along it for a long time without speaking, the horses running faster than horses should be able to (courtesy of Malcolm), until at last they came to the Sea as the morning light peeked out from the mountains at their backs.
They dismounted and took the saddles from the horses, letting them free. "They will return to the camp by the afternoon," said Malcolm, going across the long empty beach to the very edge of the water. In him some deep part sang at the beauty of the waves lapping at the shore, and the crying of the gulls above. He took off his boots and walked into the sea, feeling for the first time in his life no fear at the sight of so much water.
From his bag he took the palantír and bade Hoshi come near, and with her hand atop his on the smooth surface of the seeing stone they both thought of Enterprise and the time far in the future from which they had traveled.
The dawn lightened and the sky grew streaked with purple and orange, and as the sun peeked from behind the eastern mountains, Malcolm felt himself pulled away, whirling out of thought and time and into the great wheeling sea of stars. On and on they traveled, never parting hands, until they at last fell to the ground under an afternoon sun. Hoshi sighed and laid back upon the sand, unconscious, and Malcolm looked out to the sea.
:I leave you now,: said a voice, and he raised his eyes to see a shining figure before him, made of silver light and sunbeams. :Goodbye, Malcolm Reed. May the grace of the Valar touch you. The Road beckons you onward, my friend and my self.:
For a moment Malcolm gazed at the silver being, who had his own face, and then blackness began to tug at his consciousness, where a sense of indescribable loss filled his heart. He clutched the palantír to him even as he fell back to the sand, and would not let go until a figure in a blue jumpsuit took it forcibly from his fingers, and unconsciousness overwhelmed him completely.
:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
I think this was the hardest chapter to write, because I didn't want to bring Malcolm back to Enterprise either... but it wouldn't work out right if I didn't. Still a little more to come, so keep an eye out for it.