Author: Mirrordance

Title: For Every Evil

Summary: Legolas is a policeman in 2004. His colleagues start to wonder why the 10-yr veteran doesn't age & more trouble ahead after he runs across the Fellowship & some friends in modern incarnations, resurrected along with a new world-threatening peril.

31: It Only Sleeps

The Amazona

The Black Sea,

Several Miles off the Shore of Sinop, Turkey

Mid-2004

I've never been looked upon with such distrust and fear.

The experience was theoretically new, but it felt so hurtfully familiar, so greatly overwhelming and brutally heartbreaking, that Brad figured Boromir of Gondor must be stirring awake within him somewhere, because Brad of L.A. was not quite raised knowing such earth-shattering devastation.

"You've made mistakes, let's leave it at that," Legolas had said, "But these were things you've undoubtedly made up for in a heroic magnitude, in ways that do not question your honor, or diminish your greatness. I do not speak of them because you wouldn't understand, unless you fully remember. Boromir was a good man, a great friend. He gave his life to protect those he loved. No greater feat could be spoken of."

I wonder what mistakes those were…

He sighed heavily, meeting the wide, blue gaze of the Brit who was looking at him with a mixture of fear struggling to hide beneath a fledging calm and an undeniable determination.

"Who are you and what do you want with us?" Finn asked him sternly, "Who sent you? What are you after? These past few days we've had to flee England just to be away from you people and you still managed to find us. Who are you? Why are you pursuing us so relentlessly?"
"There are bad men after you," Brad said to him, a bit breathless, for the pain in his head and the hammering of Boromir's heart within him was stealing away any decent gulp of air he could take. His position—tied up to a chair by Mark Brandy who claimed he once was a boy scout (before Pip Took joined and got them both kicked out)—was not much help either.

"I am not one of them," he finished, "I'm here to help you."

"You're American," Mark pointed out, "You've their accent. But we've never been to America, we don't know anyone there."

"We go to University," said Sam, "We've never done anything to wrong anybody. We don't have much money. It's unimaginable that anyone would want anything from us."

"If you're not our foe," said Finn, "Who is and what brings you here, in our aid?"

"My name is Brad," he said wearily, "I'm a lab technician from Los Angeles. I don't go around chasing after people—good or bad--, I don't go around…" his eyes drifted to his rumpled tuxedo, "I don't go around wearing things like this on the damn street. I live in an apartment I share with my younger brother, I work regular hours, I have a demanding boss, I have a soft spot for a good cappuccino. I've never even been out of the country. And then this guy comes over, he's a detective in the LAPD, and he turns everything upside down and says," he laughs scornfully, "and says that I'm a reincarnated hero and we all have a job to do."

"He's bonkers," Pip whispered to Mark, and Brad looked at him wryly, laughing a bit harder, though humorlessly.

"I know!" he said between gasps, "Isn't it all just out of this world?"

Finn stared at him a long while. "What do we have to do with anything?"

Brad closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. "You read books, right? You watch movies, you like cartoons and comics and things? So tell me, why bother stir a reincarnated hero?"

"If there's a reincarnated bad guy that only the hero can stop," Pip answered, "His nemesis, his archenemy. Like Demolition Man."

"Similarly," said Brad, "If the archenemy knows who can stop him, he'd try to kill the hero, too, right?"

"So what's the point?" Sam asked.

"The bad guy woke up," said Brad with a wince, "In the past, a group of people stopped his evil plans, so now that he's back, he's trying to push through with his misdeeds, and counts killing the heroes that once stopped him as part of the plan. That means killing you, the guys who stopped him before, is part of his plan."

"This is ridiculous," snapped Sam, "Let's just go toss him over the water."

"It was hellish getting him here," Pip pointed out, "Let's listen a bit more, it's kind of interesting anyway, I mean, we're heroes!"

"Hellish?" said Mark, "You didn't do a bloody thing!"

"I did too!" retorted Pip, though he did not bother to expound.

"Can you prove it?" Finn asked Brad intently. The young man was not distractible at all…

The American frowned, and closed his eyes in fervent thought. There was no proof, was there? One simply had to know in one's heart, or hang around crazy Legolas long enough for things to start to happen to you and then you have no choice but to believe. But the barriers of the mind were always very strong; it's not possible, life doesn't unfold that way, it's preposterous, it's ridiculous, it's laughable… there was no proof, short of calling to the heart and hoping its will can bridge the gap between what was true and timeless to what was merely presently believable. It was a rather ironic twist that this was a position Legolas once held, and he gave the elf quite a brutal time of it, and now was the responsibility was passed unto him, who did not even know enough about all this just yet.

Boromir, he thought, help me out…

He racked his brain. He believed, he knew that now. But how can he make others believe him?

He was always told that the longest distance in all the world was the path between one's mind and one's heart. He's managed to bridge it, in the acknowledgement of who he once was. That means the hard part was done. He can do anything now, he can even make them believe or if not, he could at least make them think about it, and let them discover the truths for themselves.

"There is no proof," he said finally, but there was no dejection in his voice. "Keep me tied here, like this. Any perceived foe must after all, be treated with caution and I expect no less from you. Though at the moment I am the one subject to the discomfort, it gives me great relief that any enemy you encounter will be treated with like wariness. Discover the answers yourselves, but I speak the truth and I am confident you will know this… perhaps by this night."
"What do you mean?" Finn asked.

"Things are moving quickly now," Brad replied, "That is all that I know."

Docking Bay

Black Sea Coast,

Sinop Area

Mid-2004

Two black cars were parked near the quiet, empty dock. The winds were whipping, foretelling a rain that was not atypical of the Black Sea coast. The water was rippling and waving and seemed to have a life of its own, tossing about the small vessel that was making its way to shore. But the sailors of the craft were hardy with their shiphandling, leading Aragorn to the conclusion that the handlers were not only local, but likely had the skills practically at birth, for many of the local shipwrights and sailors were sons and grandsons and great-grandsons of the great sea-farers and sea-traders of long ago.

"We're going to ride that thing there," murmured Faramir, who was in the same car as Aragorn, Elladan and Eowyn. The water was visibly choppy, and he was much better on his feet, or upon a horse, or upon a bloody donkey, even, anything but a small boat in the middle of the Black Sea with all its inhospitality and dark history.

Elladan grinned. "You're with an elf, mister. We know the sea, it knows us. I'll take us where we need to go."

"You've sailed much?" Faramir inquired.

"Actually, no," said Elladan, "Some, some time ago. But I've long believed it's naturally in the blood."

"Careful you won't accidentally take us as far as Valinor," said Aragorn wryly.

"Don't make me blush with the magnitude of your trust," Elladan chuckled, catching Aragorn's wistful eye.

The adan switched languages, turning to Elvish for the question he truly longed to ask. 'Does the sea not call upon you at all?'

'It is not all that welcoming right now,' Elladan said to him sardonically, and the humor was of course, soothing enough.

As if on cue, lightning and thunder burst through the skies, showing them black clouds and swirls of gray hovering over a sea that did not look much different than the black of the threatening clouds overhead.

"Woo hoo," Elrohir whooped from the other car, which they heard from the comm. links that connected them all, "I really got the better end of this rap, Estel."

"Aren't you at least worried for our safety?" Elladan asked him.

"Nope," Elrohir said simply, "You can handle it, I mean, you share some of my blood after all."

"Bilbo Baggins is on the ground," said Eowyn, looking toward the dock with her binoculars, "The young hobbits are not with him."

Bilbo Baggins and an entourage of two other scholars stepped into a car waiting to take them to the hotel.

"That's our cue," murmured Gandalf, frowning in thought, "And I believe that's also Smeagol and Deagol…"

"Legolas," Elrohir said over the comm. as he maneuvered the car assigned to him, Gandalf and Emmett, "Bilbo is in his car with Gollum. They are now on their way to the hotel. We're following them."

"I copy," said Legolas, calm voice not betraying his worry, "Aragorn?"

"The rest of us will begin with commandeering the vessel shortly," replied the adan, "It's being manned by…" he squinted his eyes to get a better sight of the craft, but Elladan with his elven eyes beside him said helpfully,

"It's being manned by five locals," he said, "no soldiers, no guards, just a bunch of sailors. Shouldn't be hard. They are presently refueling. We'll let them finish. Wouldn't want that to run out halfway, eh?"

Hotel Room

Sinop, Turkey

Mid-2004

"Naturally," said Legolas dryly, watching the blips on the laptop screen. Elrohir, Gandalf and Emmett were indeed on the move back to the hotel.

"Goran?" the Mirkwood elf called over the comm., "Haldir?" Their signals were correctly staying put in the function room downstairs.

"No sign of Wormtongue," Haldir murmured.

Legolas pursed his lips in thought. Of course it was a good thing; maybe Warrington sensibly buried himself in a hole somewhere, at last discouraged and hopefully definitively. But it was also making him nervous, this not-knowing. The possibilities were endless, the fear, the worry, the duty would not ever end until Wormtongue was found, and all threats vanquished.

"At least not in the crowds," Goran pointed out, "The place is well-decked out, Legolas. A small stage in the front, a dancing area surrounded by tables, and oh god-- a fancy buffet. The stage has this cloaked display guarded by eight burly Turks in suits fancier than Harding's. I heard they'll reveal highlights of the excavation at the tail end of Bob Baggins' sppech."

"You can't steal a peek?" Ana asked, "The ring-thing everyone's looking for could be right there."

"Too many people about," said Goran, "we can likely take the guards easy, but we'll make a scene. We'll get kicked out!"

"We can wait awhile," murmured Legolas, "Perhaps when Bilbo speaks, we can learn more of the things he's found."

"ETA to the hotel is three minutes," Elrohir said suddenly, "Liesurely ride so far, my friends. No one's following us, no one's stopping us, not much traffic even. Uneventful." Legolas heard him frown, "Now I'm scared."

"Maybe we're at last getting lucky," said Aragorn with a grunt. Legolas noted the dull sounds of fading hand-combat in his background.

"Keep your head, Estel," the elf advised sardonically.

"It's exactly where it should be," the man said impishly, as he caught his breath.

"My prince," said Elladan, "we've successfully claimed your first bounty of the night. This little vessel is called the Inoand was manned by simple men not educated in the arts of fighting. We left them knocked out on the docks. It took but a minute. It was so easy I'm almost ashamed."

Legolas rolled back his eyes, imagining the Rivendell elf giving him a mockery of a bow. It was then that he felt Elladan's lover looking at him, amused. He smiled at her jauntily, unashamed.

"Try not to lose sleep over it, brother," Elrohir retorted dryly.

The Ino

The Black Sea Coast,

Sinop, Turkey

Mid-2004

Elladan headed straight for the bridge. The controls were, to his vast relief, standard enough. Besides, the Amazona was not so far out to sea that it could not be seen by the naked eye, elvish sight or no. All he had to do was get them there.

Behind him, Aragorn, Eowyn and Faramir looked over his shoulder expectantly.

"Personally I wouldn't mind ending up in Valinor," Aragorn said evenly, his face expressionless. Elladan, however, knew him long enough to recognize the teasing light in his deep silver eyes.

"Yes, well," he said wryly, adroit fingers swiftly moving exactly where they ought to go, "Perhaps when Legolas takes the wheel, eh? Next time."

"Why are you being so obnoxious?" snapped the Mirkwood elf from the comm. Elladan just chuckled at him, quickly spurring the small sea vessel into motion toward the Amazona.

"It's called the Ino, you say?" Haldir asked over the comm.

"What about it?" asked Legolas.

"Nothing really," Haldir replied, "I believe she's named after the mythical Turkish figure of a woman who repeatedly tried to kill her stepchildren and then ended up to become the goddess of the Sea. After she drowned, that is."

"Good to know," said Elladan wryly.

"Why in the world would anyone name a ship after a drowned woman?" Eowyn muttered, looking out into the turbulent sea.

"Well," replied Haldir wryly, "Why would the gods make an attempted murderess a fellow-god, hm?"

"Life makes little sense," Goran decided, "And the gods will do as they please."

"Hey!" Elrohir pointed out, "Aren't you two supposed to be working? We just arrived at the rotunda. Baggins, Smeagol and Deagol have landed, my friends. Keep those eyes open."

"I have the eyes of a hawk," said Goran simply.

"The last time you said that," said Legolas wistfully, "Things didn't turn out very well for you."

Hotel Ballroom

Sinop, Turkey

Mid-2004

Science, Haldir reflected as he and Goran sat down to listen to Bob Baggins' speech, involves a whole lot of selling too…

The Interpol agent's mind was wide awake, seeing a great host of familiar faces amidst the party crowd—some local scholars, some of international acclaim, some legitimate businessmen, some kingpins in the underground, some men crossed the line between. Any great scientific endeavor needed financing, after all, not just recognition from the intellectual community.

The lights in the ballroom dimmed over their heads, and only small corner lighting over the open bar and the buffet, as well as the emergency exits, were kept on. Bob Baggins was going to give them a show, he was going to show them a vision. He needed their attention, he needed their money. The man understood the intricacies of the industry enough.

A large screen lit up the stage, projecting a video that was a montage of ancient cultures in the Black Sea region. Bob Baggins was standing on the podium on a corner of the stage, looking up at the short introduction.

Photographs of ancient glyphs, scrolls and tablets were shown overlapping with the beautiful shoreline and the wide expanse of sea and lands. An exotic beat was playing in the background, slowly escalating until it came to a resounding stop. The short film ended, and Bob Baggins nodded to himself in satisfaction. The screen dimmed a moment before it apparently switched hardware from a movie projector to a powerpoint projector.

The Black Sea Expedition of Bob Baggins-- 2004, the title slide declared, very bold and very ambitious. The speaker had a cordless mouse in his hands to operate the slide show.

"Good evening everybody," Bob began, smiling disarmingly at the hushed crowd. "Well we all know why we're here," he sighed heavily, "I'm supposed to show you what I've done with your money, so I could maybe get some more."

Some laughter.

"This project began with quite some wanderlusting, I suppose," he said, after his audience once again quieted, "I grew up a bright-eyed lad from Oxford. Simple place, beautiful, unlike any other. But it's these blasted Hollywood films, these crazy books that could make many a man's heart race, his head spin… What is real? What is true? Have I no part to play in this fantastical compass of history? Am I ever to be remembered similarly? In the future, would others wonder about me?

"My mum said I was crazy," he chuckled, continuing, "Bless her heart but she did not quite see what it was the past had to do with the future. As a matter of fact, not only did she deem my field useless, she considered playing around with a bunch of old rocks as even inimical to any future. 'Bob,' she would say and I can still hear her weary, overburdened mother's sigh, 'There is no money to be made there.'"

Bob Baggins winked at the crowd, saying, "If she only knew I'd find fellow crazy-folk like you, eh?"

Once again, some laughter.

"We all here make up a roomful of dreamers," Bob declared, "It is not only in seeking the past that we learn of all these stories of the brothers that came before us… It's a tried and tested old tenet, that those who do not know their history are dommed to repeat it, of course. But more than that… to not know from where it was that we came and therefore to not know where it is that we now stand in the grand history of the world, in the great expanse of time… is to not know where we are headed, or how to get there.

"I am a man of vision," Bob said proudly, "And my destiny is mine. I wish to see the road behind me and before me, or even just the barest outlines of it, that I may walk deliberately toward my own future."

He paused as his speech was met with appreciative applause.

"And so tonight," he continued, "Tonight I thank all of you for traversing this path with me. We began in the dark, like a heart powered by dreams even though our eyes were closed in sleep. You shared with me your light, and together, we found the secret roads. So to you, our sponsors, and my mentors," he smiled at the Malcolm cousins seated in honorary places on the stage behind him, "And to all our fellow-dreamers out in the rest of the world, little towns big with vision and wonder… here are a few more outlines in our world's grand history, to guide our road…"

Thus he began a litany of the expedition's most notable achievements, using the slide show as a visual guide.

The first discoveries were rocks that they dated as being over 2 billion years old.

"Two billion," Baggins marveled, "If only they could talk. What stories these rocks could tell…"

The rocks were older than the Grand Canyon, he pointed out, and about half the age of the Earth. Its age was tested through the radiometric technique.

"If only they could talk," he said again, sighing.

Baggins showed them arms, pottery and jewelry from Ancient Rome, Egypt, Greece, the Middle and Far East, all dating around the time of the Byzantium, in 400 A.D. to the Middle Ages. He explained the mix of cultures and timelines by sighting what Haldir explained to Goran, Legolas and Brad some hours earlier that incredibly lengthy day: ancient multi-cultural hub, storms, earthquakes… it was not altogether strange to find a crazy mix and match of things together.

The jewelry, of course, caught the attention of Haldir and Goran, and many of the indulgent, wealthy aficionados in the audience.

Bangles with hieroglyphs and intricate carvings, a circlet for the head, masks, necklaces of gold and silver encrusted with precious stones… it was made to be a feast for the eyes, but Haldir only found he must be in the middle of a nightmare—which were they looking for, then? Which of these could be the Ring's reincarnation?

"Is that one for sale?" a wealthy matron asked, pointing to one of the breathtaking treats.

"It will cost you a medium-sized country, ma'am," smiled Bob Baggins indulgently, and she narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips at him as the crowd chuckled. She might have been considering which country to divest herself of…

"Legolas?" Haldir murmured over the comm..

"Yes?" replied the Mirkwood elf.

"We're looking at over a hundred pieces of jewelry here," Haldir said, "With no discernable history or association with legends of evil. We do not know who owned them, if they are cursed, if they hold wickedness, if they are powerful… It could be anything and nothing at this point."

"Nothing of note at all?" Legolas asked, and Haldir could hear his frown.

"Egyptian designs with an eye," Haldir said with a wince, "But we cannot immediately deem this as a representation of Sauron. The artifacts are not nearly old enough, and these inscriptions are plastered on a whole lot of Egyptian art— It could just be the eye of Ra…"

"That is all that he has shown?" Legolas asked.

"Wait, there is one more," Goran hushed them.

"What you have just seen," Bob Baggins said gravely, "Is the very least of what the Black Sea has to offer us, my dear friends. We picked up a strange artifact that we cannot quite… explain. Yet."

Haldir's heart was pounding. This could be it…

"Does anyone know what this is?" Bob asked, and the slide featured the symbol of an ankh. It resembled a 'T' topped with an inverted teardrop. "You'll get a prize," the nautical archaeologist laughed, and the woman wanting to buy the jewelry from before raised her hand.

"If you get it right, madam," said Bob, "I am obliged to say that the prize will not be any of the beautiful things I've just shown. But I can give you a day inside our expedition boat."

The crowd cheered, and the woman smirked at Bob Baggins.

"It's an ankh," she said, "It's Egyptian. It symbolizes life."

Bob Baggins frowned in thought. "Very fair answer ma'am. You will get your tour."

The audience applauded.

"The ankh is indeed best associated with classical Egypt," Bob Baggins said, "this knowledge should be common enough. It is widespread in their art. You might also know this as the Crux Ansata, or the 'eyed' cross in Christian iconography. It is widely-recognized to mean life, yes. But it has other meanings too… would you believe me if I said the ankh has a sexual symbolism by virtue of it resembling a sandal strap? It also resembles the knot of Isis. It's also once represented the womb. It also has symbolized the union of Isis and Osiris…

"But the most fascinating thing to me," said Bob, "is that scholars have long believed that though this symbol is prevalent in Egyptian art, it stems from an older, unknown culture. You see it's like in Persia, India, America, Sardinia… It's a combination or development of the t-shaped cross—a tau-- which symbolizes death, attached to the sign of re-birth. So the ankh, in its wide range of meanings, not just indicates life; it specifically symbolizes life after death. Because it is often held by the gods in the manner of one holding a key, you can say it is they Key between Life and Death."

"Legolas," murmured Goran over the comm., "You told me something about all this Ring-identification thing as ultimately being a question of how it feels, right?"

"Yes," the elf replied tentatively.

"I'm feeling really, really bad," grumbled the hacker.

"Bob Baggins found the Key to Life and Death," Haldir informed Legolas, "Bringing back to life and toward immortality, one who has died."

The Interpol agent heard the Mirkwood elf sigh. "It is there?"
"I think so," Goran answered.

"As I said, scholars have long theorized the ankh stems from an older, unknown culture than Ancient Egypt," Bob Baggins said gravely, "I believe we found proof of that."

The slide showed a picture of a gleaming, silver ankh that was three-quarters of the way well-preserved, missing but half of the top loop. Words were insrcibed all over it in a script that none of the scholars in the room could read… but the Interpol agent, an ex-elf learned in the oldest cultures of Middle-Earth, could read it clearly enough, for it was in an ancient Elvish that he knew only too well…

Haldir took a deep, shaky breath, and Goran looked at him with furrowed brows.

The darkness dies not, it only sleeps…

"Oh for god's sake, just tell me what it says!" the hacker grumbled at him.

"Legolas," Haldir said over the comm., "I believe Sauron had a… uh… contingency plan," he decided, for lack of a better term, "Something that could resurrect him even in defeat. The script is in ancient Elvish, but the language is the very dark of Mordor. This ankh says: 'The darkness dies not, it only sleeps.'"

"Stunning isn't it?" Bob Baggins breathed, before Legolas or any of the New Fellowship who heard the information could reply, "How do we know it is not Egyptian, you might ask. The script is different, for one. It is of a kind no one has ever seen before. And the material… it glows far too greatly for silver, does it not? As if it has a light within. It is of an element that is new and also never been seen on Earth in recorded history. Until now."

The crowd oohed and ahhed. Only Haldir knew Bob Baggins was talking about mithril.

"The element is so strange," Bob Baggins continued, "That we cannot even date this. No technique of ours could tell how old this is. It is also so… invulnerable, in our tests. It is just so stable that I suspect it will take quite an impossible effort to destroy it."

"But it looks broken," someone pointed out.

"'Tis not broken," Bob Baggins said evenly, "It was unfinished, it seems. The lines are smooth and gradual, but this material cannot be melted because of its strength, and if it was indeed broken or snapped, the years could not have tempered the edges at the points where it broke because we found this in the anoxic layer of the Black Sea, where nothing decays. And so we have concluded that the work is unfinished. As if a master artist was interrupted, or halted. The craftsmanship is exquisite, is it not? It likely would have taken a making of more than just one go. Beautiful. But aside from its barest beauty that any common eye could see… for us as a race it means much more. This ankh symbolizes another great culture, older than any we have ever seen, but already with art, and language, and writing… An ancient, advanced civilaztion we are yet to discover."

He stepped away from the podium, and toward the covered display which Goran had seen earlier. The room collectively held their breaths. It was almost as if an alien spaceship landed in the room. There was suddenly a presence so old and potent. There was like a new civilization in the room, the possibilities were so great and magnificent!

Bob Baggins gripped the edges of the cloth.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he decalrared, as slowly the crowds rose from their seats in anticipation, "The Black Sea Ankh."

Bob Baggins pulled at the cloth to reveal the glass display.

It was very glaringly empty.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Hey guys!!! Long chapter eh, and some revelations. I tried to keep it basic and fun. I hope it worked. Thanks loads for the c&c's and keep them coming if you can. Am now really really working part-way through chapter 33 :) I hope you had fun :) See you when I post chapter 32 for a whole lot of damage control, haha :) 'TIL THEN!!!