Evil from the Past

Author's Note: I love this. I love this. Lord of the Rings is great. Let us worship Tolkien the great master. Aiya Tolkien! Aiya ancalima!

Beg pardon. Let us go back to speaking sense. My beloved Lord of the Rings comes into existence in this fanfiction. To all unbelievers, Lord of the Rings is the best, most wonderful, most beautiful, ultimate book in the universe. Worship Tolkien. And no, my darling Manveri, all of your pwetty pleases are not going to get Legolas into this fanfiction. I should have a lot more to say on this subject, but the rating of my story is PG and I have to obey it. Anyway, if Legolas was in my story, I should waste chapter after chapter doing nothing but abusing him. So there, all you Legolas fans. You are wasting your life and affections.

And no, this is not a parody, it's a serious fanfiction. When I want a parody I shall warn you beforehand. That should assure you, should it not?

Middle-Earth Emergency

Control Room, Time Shuttle, halfway to Transylvania 19th century

Foaly had just finished typing the coordinates for Castle Dracula and entered the command when he noticed something on the screen. "D'Arvit," he swore quietly.

Artemis had noticed it too. "Foaly, that's not a good thing, is it?"

Foaly stared at the flashing red light, heart sinking. "Not at all, Artemis."

Storage Compartment, Time Shuttle, halfway to Transylavania 19th century

Harry had just received a premonition that something was not right. That premonition came from something (someone?) coming into contact with the Firebolt, sending a jolt down the broom handle. This suspicion was fortified by a whisper that he barely caught in the darkness.

"What next, Commander?"
"We wait. We wait and see."

Harry nudged Ron. "What?" was the muttered reply.

"Something's wrong. We'd better check it out."

Commander Root received his premonition that something was not right when he barely caught a whisper in the darkness.

"Captain," he hissed in the mike. "We have possible hostiles. Weapon at the ready."

"Roger that, Commander."

Harry pulled out his wand, careful not to let the Invisibility Cloak snag on anything.

Commander Root rose into a combat position. So did Holly.

Ron leaned out, peering into the dim light.

Commander Root took a step forward.

And his foot promptly trod on the Invisibility Cloak and slid.

"D'Arvit!" swore Commander Root as he went down.
"Commander!" exclaimed Holly, rushing forward.
"Help, Harry!" screeched Ron as the Neutrino came into contact with his nose.
"My glasses!" yelled Harry as his spectacles were knocked off and went skidding.

The four paused in their various positions. There was a long silence. Something was resting on Holly's foot. She leaned over and picked it up.

"That's mine!" cried Harry as he lunged for his spectacles. Holly dodged out of his grasp and aimed the Neutrino at him. "Freeze or I'll shoot!"

Even in the semi-darkness Harry could tell it was a gun. He froze. Holly and Root took the opportunity to shield. Ron took the opportunity to throw the Cloak over his and Harry's heads.

"Now," said Holly's disembodied voice. "I suggest we all calm down and explain the situation to each other."

"I doubt they will," growled Root.

"We are not enemies," objected Harry. "We don't want to harm you. I just want my glasses back."

"Why are you here then, Mud Boy?"

"Our friend was captured by the people in that room," explained Ron from under the Cloak. "We're trying to rescue her."

Root let out his breath in a whistle. "I see." A long pause. "Well, we are in the same predicament. Captain, you can give him back his glasses, I think."

Holly put the glasses on the floor. They were snatched away by an invisible hand. There was a sigh of relief from Spectacles, as Holly now addressed him in her mind.

"D'you...d'you want to work with us then?" asked the voice of the other Mud Boy – Carrot-tops, Holly mentally christened him.

"We can see about that," replied Root. "Although, from past experiences, Mud People like you tend to just get in the way of operations."

"We don't want that," said Spectacles reasonably. "All we want is the safety of our friend. We won't try anything on you. Please do not hurt us."

He did really sound sincere, thought Holly. "Commander?" she whispered. "They might know something, or at least be some help."

Root considered it. Better to have allies than enemies. "Very well," he addressed the other party. "We shall work together, for the moment. But anything funny, and neither my officer nor I will hesitate to turn our weapons on you."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a sudden tremor of the Time Shuttle. He and Ron crashed into the nearest box. Root fell down for the second undignified time that day. In the Control Room opposite, all hell broke loose.

Control Room, Time Shuttle, halfway to nowhere

The Shuttle jerked once more, throwing Artemis and Hermione into the wall. Foaly slammed into the dashboard. The Brides leapt up, shrieking. "You, centaur!" screamed Verona. "What is happening?"

Foaly did not answer. He could not. His mouth was jammed against the keyboard and one eye against the coordinate screen. At the moment, his eye was observing the coordinates fleeing across the screen in the worst haywire manner, throwing up absolutely irrational area and period combinations.

Aleera heaved him up unceremoniously from the dashboard with one arm. "What is happening?"

Foaly pointed at the flashing power meter on the screen. "The battery. It's running haywire, for some reason. The computer has lost command of the coordinates, which means that the next place this Shuttle ends up in won't be Transylvania, but – "

The Time Shuttle stopped shuddering. Artemis staggered to his feet and jabbed the Open Door button. They rushed into the corridor as the doors slid open.

"– the middle of nowhere," finished Foaly weakly.

No one else said anything. What was there to say?

The landscape outside was a vast swamp. An endless fen, dotted with innumerable pools covered in sickly green scum and soft marshy ground. Thick mist hung over the place like a burial shroud. An eerie silence descended on the Time Shuttle, along with a fetid smell.

"Where...is this?" asked Aleera faintly after several minutes of silence.

"No idea," replied Foaly.

With Marishka keeping an eye on the prisoners, the other two Brides and Imhotep ventured out into this new world. Imhotep's foot immediately sank into a marshy spot and emerged muddy and foul. "Ankheru!" swore Imhotep. The words rose into the air and disappeared amongst the mist.

"What's that?" breathed Verona. "That light?"

Around the Time Shuttle, a ring of ghostly lights flickered up, waving, entwining like candle-flames with the mist, beckoning them. All three were impervious to magic of other forms, however. Imhotep merely glared at the swirling phantom-lights and turned back to where the prisoners stood in the door of the Shuttle.

"Centaur. Think of a way to get back to Castle Dracula. Or else."

Foaly gulped. "Not easy. We need a new battery, or at least some source of power."

Aleera was not well-versed in the studies of science, but she suddenly had a brainwave. "Lightning!"

"Yes," added Verona, "lightning, like the Master's invention. We shall set up a lightning conductor, and Lord Imhotep can bring on a storm. The three of you, start now. That's what you're here for."

Artemis frowned at the Bride. "We could," he began, "but we lack tools, and even more importantly, materials. How are we going to find the materials required for a basic lightning rod in this marsh?"

Aleera morphed swiftly, spreading her wings and soaring up above the mists. "Look," she observed, pointing in the distance they could not see. "A village. Surely they must have what we need."

Verona joined Aleera. "Let us go see," she said. "Marishka, dear," she called down, "and Lord Imhotep, would you please stay to guard the prisoners? We'll be back in no time." And in a few swift flaps of their wings, both Brides had vanished into the cloudy sky.

Foaly sighed. "Doesn't look good," he pointed out to no one in particular as Imhotep shepherded them back inside.
Holly zoomed out from her Optix lens vision. "It's a swamp, Commander," she whispered into the helmet mike, rising ever so slightly above the doorway as Imhotep's bald head passed inches below her hovering feet.

"A swamp? What swamp?"
"No idea. Come out and see for yourself, if you wish."

Root left the safety of the alcove, his wings whirring as he flew towards the doorway, dodging Marishka's shoulder. "Frond. Where the hell are we?"

Harry and Ron decided that it was time they saw it for themselves. Creeping under the shelter of the Invisibility Cloak, they emerged from the alcove and crept towards the opening. Imhotep had already gone into the Control Room, but Marishka was still in the corridor, steering Artemis and Hermione with unyielding hands, so the two invisible wizards were very careful.

Not too careful, though.

Again, it was the Invisibility Cloak that betrayed them. Just as they passed Marishka, Artemis stepped onto a stray corner of the Cloak. And tripped.

Harry was forced to duck with the Cloak as it was pulled to the floor, in order to stay hidden. His ankle protested with a twinge. Marishka was turning, and he and Ron needed to get away fast......

That was when he realised that they had discovered Ron.

Marishka had Ron by the collar in an iron grip. Ron was kicking and struggling, clawing at her arm, while Hermione screamed and screamed until Imhotep, who had been watching with an amused expression on his face, reached out and clapped his hand over her mouth. Hermione bit it. Imhotep stopped being amused. He shoved Hermione into the control room and strode over to the suspended Ron. "What shall we do with him?"

Marishka had fangs extended and at the ready. "How about I bite him?" she asked ominously.

"Ron!" came a scream from inside the control room.

Imhotep looked at the fangs with distate. "Surely not now," he said. "We shall drop him in the swamp; I should like to see what happens."

Harry attempted struggling to his feet. He had to save Ron. Clutching to the wall, he staggered up, but his treacherous ankle turned beneath him and he collapsed with a gasp of pain which went unheard in the general tumult.

Marishka decided to go with Imhotep's idea. She was also interested in the dangers of the swamp. "Very well." Dragging Ron behind her, she made for the door, spreading her wings.

Harry tried to get up again. Holly by now had inferred what he was doing, despite his invisibility. In a burst of speed she plunged next to him and forced him back down. "Down!" she hissed. "You'll only get yourself captured too!"

Harry ignored her and tried to go after his friend. Holly repeated her orders, this time with the mesmer. "Down. Get in the alcove. Lie low."

She felt him relax under her grip and released him. Firing up her wings, she soared up and out of the door, after the Bride and Ron.

Ahead of her, Marishka swooped through the mists, now darting round the scraggly rocks, now skimming low among the scummy pools, dangling her thrashing prisoner tantalisingly above them. Finally she selected one that looked particularly deep. She hovered over it, her cruel smile of anticipation stretching her hideous face – and released him.

Ron fell into the pool with a splash. Everything seemed to go dark about him, accompanied by a sudden muffling silence. Tiny pinpoints of candlelight appeared below him in the depths, flickering eerily. Ghostly faces materialised amongst the candles, grinning with their wraithlike mouths. Pale ethereal hands reached out, brushing his fingers, grasping his wrists, pulling him down, down, down......

Holly surveyed the pool in disgust. Green scum. But still, the Mud Boy's life was at stake. She checked Marishka had disappeared, and plunged into the darkness of the stagnant water.

She blinked. Were those ghosts that she was seeing? But no matter. They had the boy, and soon they would be after her too. Grabbing the Mud Boy by the back of his robes, she pushed the throttle to full and yanking him with her, she shot out of the pool and into the air above.

In her hands, Ron spluttered, gulping deep breaths of the marshy air. Holly laid him on a nearby rock to recover. He didn't say anything, too busy concentrating on just filling his lungs. Eventually, he rose onto one elbow with great effort.

"Thanks," he panted. "I never thought I'd ever breathe again." He paused for a while, screwing up his forehead in thought. "I don't even know your name, you know."

Holly realised he was right. "Holly Short."

"Holly. Well, thanks for saving my life, Holly."

Holly shrugged it off. Rifling through her LEP kit, which had survived the drenching, she yanked out a Moonbelt. "Here. Clip yourself on."

Ron took the Moonbelt, staring in confusion. "What?"

"Just get it on. I doubt we'll be welcome back at the Shuttle now, so I suggest we find somewhere else to kip out." She looked up at Ron, who had just managed to figure out how to attach himself. Holly hooked herself on too and fired up her wings. "Now, up we go."

Soaring above the mists, Holly used her Optix lens to spy out the surroundings. "There. A road. At least it's better than marsh."

Ron opened his mouth to comment and clamped it shut in shock as Holly accelerated. The mists were swept up in a tempest of vapour as they zoomed through the air at dizzying rates, faster than any broomstick Ron had ever ridden. The speed knocked the air out of his chest and left him dazed and breathless as they finally skidded to a stop in mid-air, above the road.

It was a bare, stony road, stretching into the distance at either end, barren, dry. The marshes led away to their left, as far as the eye could see. Holly felt exposed, upon this strange path where no one could hide.

Quite right. And she had forgotten to shield.

"Who goes there?"

Holly spun around, so fast that Ron's teeth chattered furiously. A man sat upon a horse, on that stony road. Why had she not seen him? Why hadn't she shielded? Holly cursed her carelessness.

"D'Arvit!" she swore, drawing her Neutrino from its holster.

The man raised his eyebrows. He was dark-haired, with a well-built physique. He was well-dressed, and his horse a fine one, from what she knew of horses, and an aura of nobility and power surrounded him. His dark eyes said many things, and hid many more, old and yet young.

"You speak a outlandish language, stranger in this land," he spoke calmly. "Who may you be?" He levelled his steady gaze at them. "The youth you hold, he too is not of this realm. Are you a hobbit, little maid? Or are you," he eyed the wings, "something far more mysterious?"

Holly noted where his gaze was directed and lowered the two of them to the ground. Sliding her visor up, she glared back at the Mud Man, sizing him up as a possible opponent. His main weapon appeared to be a long sword, hanging in a sheath at the side. Primitive. This must be the Middle Ages or something.

She opened her mouth, preparing to mesmerize and mind-wipe him, but a sudden idea made her pause. He might prove to be useful, if only in pointing out where they were.

"Who are you?" she asked.

The human seemed to be considering the question before answering. "I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, Lord of Gondor. And who may you be?"

Holly ignored that question. "Where is this place?"

The man seemed slightly annoyed now. "The Dead Marshes, east of the fair lands of Ithilien. As a stranger, you should state your name and business first."

"You don't want to know."
"And why not, I pray thee tell?"

Holly was getting exasperated. "What are you doing here?" she pressed again, this time adding a slight trace of the mesmer to her voice.

The man resisted her magic. He was strong-minded, this one. Eyes locked in battle, they sparred back and forth, until Aragorn relented. "I am travelling to Ithilien, where my long-time friends, the Lord Faramir and Lady Éowyn, dwell. It is long since we have last met."

Ron suddenly remembered something. "Ithilien's the town in that direction, isn't it?"

Aragorn nodded.

"Then," continued Ron, realisation dawning, "it's where the vampires are headed for. Your friends and their town are in deep trouble, Mr. Aragorn."

"What are vampires?"

Holly rolled her eyes. "For someone who talks fancy, your vocabulary sure is limited. Vampires. Bloodsuckers, undead, fanged monsters of darkness. One bite and you become cursed like them. Add that to your terminology, Aragorn son of Arathorn."

"It is as I said," said Aragorn with a resigned air. "You speak a tongue different from that which I am accustomed to. I understand you not."

Holly lost her patience. "Never mind! They're in trouble, someone's got to get them out of it, we've still got to save the hostages. If that horse of yours can keep up, which I seriously doubt, let's check that village out. I have a feeling something bad's going to happen to it." And she was up and speeding out of sight, she and Ron silhouettes against the bleak sky, before Aragorn could even gather up his reins.

Aragorn son of Arathorn stared after them. Then he nudged Roheryn into a gallop towards Ithilien. The stranger's words forebode ill, and if she was right, doom approached Ithilien with every passing heartbeat.

End of Chapter

Next chapter coming ... Lightning in the Marshes

In which the Brides do yet another kidnapping, the lightning conductor is set up and Éowyn daughter of Éomund proves her penchant for being a damsel- in-distress – not.