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.
34: Lightning and Thunder
The Motel Room,
Sinop, Turkey
Lightning and thunder.
Not so strange, this stormy night they seemed to just light up the skies. But that last one, it was too close, and the lights over Legolas' head flickered. The laptop before him, having stored some power in its batteries, was not bothered at all. But if the lights went out… he won't have very long on them at all; it was so blasted simple and yet he now found he and Goran likely did not find the time earlier to charge it.
He winced in dismay; the laptop was his only window to the world that moved along without him. It showed him where his friends were, it kept the communication links on line, yes, but best of all, it kept him from turning insane with worry and restlessness too.
The idea somehow became funny to him, after a long moment of quiet. The dependence on technology was for now a regretful consequence of having lived with them for quite some time, he supposed. It was conceptually acceptable; he was always very practical and they did for him what he needed. Such things aided in crime-fighting, in business, in communications, in crazy quests such as the very one going on this night. He supposed it was just… funny in the sense that not too long ago (ages seemed like days now that the years have once again brought him and old friends back together), they managed to save the world with swords and spears and fists and arrows, and the fates somehow coordinated their efforts such that they all ended up where they were needed, even without proper communication.
He chuckled a bit at the tragicomedy. If they had comm. links or cellphones back out in old Middle-Earth… he's pretty sure he'd have gotten some pretty crazy phone calls.
Legolas? This is Gandalf. I'm not dead, don't anyone mourn, I'll see you soon…
Legolas? Samwise. Frodo refuses to toss the Ring!
Legolas? Aragorn here. I'm alive, not to worry, I'll just be a little bit late…
In that old world, Legolas reflected, friends parted and then stepped out into the dark unknown, never knowing if they will ever see each other again. In this new one, I can see where they went, hear what they said, know precisely what things they faced, if they still lived--
Lightning and thunder.
Not so strange, this stormy night they seemed to just light up the skies. But this last one, this was too close as well, and the lights over Legolas' head flickered once again.
-- provided the electricity held, of course, he thought wryly.
Well it was of no matter, he decided. He could trust that his friends will go where they must and do what they ought. Then as now, as Elrohir pointed out, he's once stood on a shore and folded his hands, let them go. He could trust them, and he could trust the gods and the fates that they wouldn't be so cruel as to punish those whose hearts were good and spirits valiant. He can and must believe that at the end of all things, it is the good that will be left and triumphant. If not… then one might as well be dead than live in a world of evil and in this sense, they all win anyway, in both triumph and defeat…
Lightning and thunder, and the lights over Legolas' head flickered once again.
But of course, he thought determinedly, Similarly, they have to trust me too, to do what I have to…
He was not at full strength yet, that he knew. He was not fool enough not to know. He didn't want to be a bloody handicap they'd all be distracted just looking after, and so it was that he allowed the others to force him into sitting back and out of the action. Besides, in all truth, all this running around was exhausting him, and there remained within his body a deep weariness, likely still some lingering fever that admittedly made the stormy night colder than a normal elf should find. But he was of some use to them yet, even without the computers and the comm. links. If he felt the need to come to their aid, if the lights shut down on the only thing he could help them with…
I will go where I must and do what I ought.
Lightning and thunder, and the lights over Legolas' head flickered once again.
The Mess Hall,
The Amazona,
The Black Sea
It was almost regretful to watch them polish off their plates, for it meant it was time for them to leave.
But no one was going to let them go quite so easily. As Mark and Pip rose from their seats, Elladan, Aragorn, Eowyn and Faramir wordlessly gathered their feet as well, and looked at each other inquisitively, surprised. The hobbits looked their way in suspicion.
"I thought perhaps to use the ladies'," Eowyn said first.
"I thought so as well!" Faramir said, wincing as he added, "Except, of course, not the ladies.'"
Aragorn frowned at them both, beat to the plan. But he simply narrowed his eyes and nodded his head in acceptance, sitting back down beside Elladan.
"Perhaps you'd know the way?" Eowyn inquired of the hobbits.
"Oh, yeah, sure," said Mark, "We'll walk you to the john."
She walked apace with the young man, and he was a bit taller than herself, making her smile. "My name is Eowyn."
"Mark Brandy," he said, "That one there is Pip."
"I'm Faramir," said the other man, "Her husband."
"A shame, really," Pip sighed melodramatically, "You could have been just my type."
She laughed, and tossed her husband a mischievous look, "You never stood a chance. But I'm not married in this life, not yet."
"Are you saying I'd better get to it quickly?" he asked her blandly, wanting to get a rise out of her because it was so easy, and because it was so endearing.
"You believe in reincarnation?" asked Pip, frowning a bit since the conversation with the guy they tied up downstairs was coincidentally along the same lines.
"I believe," she said, "I believe in finding a part of yourself in somebody else, all across years, all across lives and deaths. Call it reincarnation, if you like. I like to call it… just as it is. Lives brought together, whether for the first time or the nth time."
"No wonder he's not married you yet," said Pip, "You sound like an insane person."
"Well they're off," sighed Aragorn, watching Merry, Pippin, Eowyn and Faramir walk away, melodious laughter echoing behind them.
"It's really just as well," said Elladan, "They've formed quite the bond ages ago, and 'tis more disarming to deal with less folk."
"Yes, but," said Aragorn dryly, "Quite a shame, for a seasoned warrior like yourself and myself to have been beaten to the plan by that two."
"I don't mind losing to stubborn women," said Elladan wistfully.
"I know," chuckled Aragorn, before focusing on Legolas with the comm., "Legolas? How fares everyone else?"
"Gandalf, Elrohir and Eomer are on their way to the airport," came the quick reply, "And Anatalia, Haldir and Goran are likely drunk and dancing by now."
"You're saying that just to annoy me," Elladan said flatly.
"But you're not annoyed, are you?" Legolas pointed out primly, "I'm telling you she is in no conceivable danger in there."
"Just so," breathed Elladan, smiling a bit, "I heard Elrohir theorize that the Ankh could still be in here."
"Yes," replied Legolas, "In the Amazona, in the Ino, or the ways between the docks and the hotel. In short, it could be anywhere at all. The culprits, thankfully, are far less hard to track. We are hoping for their cooperation, in this search."
Elladan smirked at that. "You've sent Elrohir, Gandalf and Eomer of Rohan to get them? I have no doubt you will get as you hope for."
The Airport,
Sinop, Turkey
Depending on the kind of man that you were, there was two ways of looking at the situation they managed to find themselves in. Elrohir supposed he could look at it thus: they were lucky that storms kicked in and the flights were canceled and therefore they managed to catch up to their prey. But then again if he was truly lucky, he wouldn't be in the shitty situation at all, now would he?
He was always one to look upon life through the eyes of hope. He and Elladan have long given Estel grief over being a mad optimist, but then again he knew too that he and his twin must have had something or other to do with the adan's optimism too; after all, he and his twin in a way helped rear him. Estel was just unfortunate that there was two of Elladan and Elrohir and just one of him, so it was very easy to gang up on him and jauntily blame him for the straits they got into in their younger years.
Either way, Elrohir found himself smirking at the rain outside. He could see the winds stirring the outdoors from the wide glass window of the airport lobby. He knew he was as glad for the rain as his agitated prey was cursing it to the high heavens.
As they figured, the eight fugitive bodyguards from Trebizond Security were indeed in the airport, awaiting a flight that was canceled for the storm. They wore more discreet clothing, and stood separately, pretending not to know each other. But the pictures from Haldir and Goran were clear enough, and if one looked closely, it wasn't so very hard to spot them. Elrohir, Mithrandir and Emmett Rigare found them easily enough.
The Istari flanked an exit, while Emmett lorded over another, in case they decided to leave the premises. Elrohir held the middle-ground, sitting amidst the culprits in the waiting area. He could feel them quake, and their desire to run. He could see how they looked around them and over their shoulders, as if they were being followed or watched (which they were). He could see them tossing each other nervous glances, wondering when their safe passage will come, when they will be free, wondering if the police was already onto them and perhaps the plane won't leave in time and they'd all best simply run away from there and hide out into the shadows of Sinop…
One of the security men abruptly rose to his feet, and then hurriedly walked to the washroom. Elrohir waited a breath, before following suit. They only needed one man to break the silence and speak of where they hid the Ankh, only one. That could be the one…
The Rivendell elf stepped into the men's room, busied himself in front of the mirror and washed his hands, ran them through his rain-drizzled hair. The Trebizond man was washing his face nervously beside him, and there was no one else in the room but the two of them.
"You all right?" Elrohir asked the pale-faced, burly local. Of course he wasn't; he was guilty of a rather terrible crime, and his plane was not going to be leaving the ground anytime soon…
The Turkish man looked up at him, irritable. "What's it to you?"
"You look a bit off, that's all," said Elrohir quickly.
"My goddamn flight is late," growled the other, before snatching a paper towel and wiping his hands upon them. Elrohir smiled to himself when the man snatched another piece and put it over his face.
The Rivendell elf, of course, optimistic and opportunistic, took advantage. He caught the man with a disorienting punch to the face, dashed to the washroom door and locked it, and then caught his disoriented prey in a secure headlock.
The burly Security man, however, was strong and well-trained. Large booted foot slamming on your instep was no flighty matter, even for an elf. Elrohir's grip loosened, and the Trebizond man used the chance to headbutt his attacker.
Elrohir staggered backward, and was still regaining his balance and attempting to lose the stars in his eyes when the Trebizond man tackled him, sending him slamming against the wall.
Weapons, the elf mused, was always far simpler. But then airport security made everything justly much more complicated such that he, Mithrandir and Emmett left their weapons in the car. But what did he think earlier just this night? He was never one to look upon the sour in favor of the sweet—and so he did not regard himself unlucky that he was without arms. He was lucky that the other man was equally unarmed. He was also lucky he had the strength and stamina of an elf, ages and ages of a warrior's experience over his foe, and not to mention the inalienable estel of a mad fool.
The Trebizond fellow stepped back to strike at him, but Elrohir sidestepped cleanly and the fist meant for his face rammed against the wall. The man let out an angry, pained cry, and Elrohir did not give him a breath to even contemplate the fact that he's just made a rather definitive mistake; the elf was a staunchly determined fighter, and he will get all that he desired.
The Rivendell elf kicked at the back of the man's knees, almost coolly, almost cruelly efficiently, sending him to the ground. Elrohir viciously wrested the man's arms, held them tightly behind the man's back, and pushed his face and body against the wall.
"You're going to tell me everything that I want to hear," the elf told him coolly."
"Fuck you," the man retorted, along with a string of some rather foul-sounding things in his own tongue, very likely expletives.
The Rivendell elf was easy eough to get along with. Life was almost like… water running down his back. He liked laughing, he enjoyed kidding around. But there were times when games were not meant to be played. All the ages he's seen, and all the noble of his blood was artlessly plied upon the sound of his warning.
"I promise you will not want me to have to force you."
The Hotel Ballroom,
Sinop, Turkey
Haldir's phone was ringing and he grabbed it from his coat pocket, coolly saying, "Harding."
"Mellon-nin," said Elrohir, "We found our suspects."
"Indeed?" said the ex-elf, brows raising in surprise.
"All the Trebizond men who's supposed to be guarding the Ankh are in the airport," said Elrohir, "All flights out have been canceled for the storms. I uh… I got one to talk. He says Dean Malcolm made arrangements with them, but they don't know where the Ankh is. I'm not… quite sure what to do with this fellow, I figured, well, I might as well leave him to Interpol."
"I will call upon my contacts and make the proper arrangements," said Haldir, "Tell me what happened."
"Dean Malcolm collaborated with the eight men to steal the Ankh," said Elrohir, "He volunteered to bring the Ankh ashore ahead of Bob Baggins and Sean Malcolm, that he may be alone with it. He then had the security men from another agency who weren't in on the heist killed and tossed over the water. The man I interrogated said Dean Malcolm took the Ankh with him and hid it either in the Ino or in the Amazona—he wouldn't be a fool enough to keep it in his person and bring it there because he logically expected to be searched after the discovery of the theft. He also of course refused to leave it with anybody else. It also couldn't be anywhere else in Turkey because I was told that after Dean Malcolm took the Ankh, the only places he went were the Ino and the Amazona, for he did not accompany the empty display to the hotel. The man I interrogated also said that Dean Malcolm was in it with somebody else, someone he kept talking to on the phone. He doesn't know who it is, but Malcolm and this other person will be meeting tonight."
"Good," said Haldir, "Perhaps this case will soon be closed. Dean Malcolm is still here and all the other conspirators are in your sights."
"Indeed," breathed Elrohir, "Perhaps this night will end soon, and relatively peacefully. I left the Trebizoned man I talked to in the washroom. Your colleagues uh… likely won't have such a hard time finding him. Last stall, I locked it up."
"What in all of Arda did you do?" asked the ex-elf wryly.
"Nothing he didn't have coming," came the prim reply, "He'll live, my friend. He just won't be very pretty for a little while. Mellon-nin, I will speak to you later. I must go."
"Go where?" asked Haldir.
"I updated Legolas some minutes ago," said Elrohir, "Mithrandir, Eomer and I will be following to the Amazona. Keep your eye fixed upon Dean Malcolm. Let the line run long, we want to see who is his partner. We will be in the Amazona for the barge is big, and the search must begin soon or we must at least be near it. We will be backing up Aragorn, Eowyn, Faramir and my delinquent brother."
"Be safe," Haldir said, ending the call. He looked up at Dean Malcolm to find him on talking to someone on his cell, commandeering a corner of the room.
"Well?" Goran asked beside him, and the Interpol agent glanced at the expectant faces of the hacker and the heiress beside him.
"They have the conspirators," said Haldir, "And we have Dean Malcolm. This could end soon."
"No violence," breathed Ana, "Relatively peacefully… I know I'm supposed to be relieved but I'm suddenly afraid."
"Now you're learning," Haldir said jauntily.
Below Decks,
The Amazona
"Here you are," Pip announced, motioning for the comfort rooms.
"You folk can get back to the mess hall on your own?" Mark asked.
"Yes, yes of course," Eowyn said with a gracious smile, "Thank you very much." She stretched out her hand to Pip, "It was nice to meet you."
The young man shook her hand, and then Mark took over and a curious look dawned upon him as they touched. She watched his face expectantly.
Mark took a careful breath, suddenly feeling strangely… exhilarated for one reason or other. He blinked twice and released her, looking upon her searchingly before Pip slapped at his back.
"Her bloke's right in front of you, man," he said in a loud whisper, "And he's bigger than the two of us put together!"
"I wasn't…" Mark said haltingly, before he smiled at Eowyn and Faramir, "Yes, well. See you folk around then."
The two young Brits waited for Eowyn and Faramir to step into the washrooms before they walked down the hall, toward Frodo and Sam's quarters where they kept their prisoner.
Eowyn was doing her own waiting too, from inside the washroom, she pressed her ear to the door and waited for their footsteps to dim somewhat into the near distance, before she stepped outside. She grinned at Faramir, who stepped out of the other room at the very same instant, having thought of the same plan.
"You saw his face?" Eowyn asked her husband in a low voice as they began to discreetly trail behind the two hobbits.
"You will wake him, Shieldmaiden," Faramir said gravely, and though his voice was flat and his face remained serious, his eyes gleamed with a joke as he added, "Let's just hope he doesn't mistake it for love at first sight, eh?"
Finn Baggins and Sam Granger's Quarters
The Amazona
The agitated Sam Granger was giving the pair of them a blasted headache as he paced back and forth and back and forth…
"Sam stop that," sighed Finn, glancing at their captive in shared misery.
"Of course I'm nervous, why shouldn't I be?" said the other, "We've just kidnapped and tied up a man, Finn. And people are after us for… for a bunch of reasons I don't even want to think about!" he frowned at Brad, "And I'm not even going to contemplate what you just said, mister."
Brad shrugged as much as he was able, as skillfully tied up as he was. "I'd feel the same way."
"You said something," said Finn, "Something about this night."
"Things are coming to a head now," said Brad, "I know you can feel it." He nodded toward Sam, "He most certainly can."
"We just want you to tell us the truth," Sam said to Brad, "All right? No more BS, just say it straight out, nothing crazy anymore. We can't see what anyone could possibly want from us. See, we're plain old college folk, we don't even have girlfriends! Life is that much plain! And then suddenly, people are after us in England, asking around, scouting our place, searching our things… even tried to snatch up Finn and myself until Pip and Mark came along. And the cops wouldn't believe us! So we left. And then here you are, saying you're not with those men-- whoever they are—and saying you're here to help us, saying we're not who we think we are… The hell, man. Just say it straight out."
"That's the problem," Brad said to him with wounded eyes, "I'm being absolutely truthful and it sounds crazy and the craziest thing about it is that it's all true."
Sam closed his eyes, took a deep breath before setting his gaze on Finn. "The cops back at home refused to believe us because we had no proof, we didn't even get a good look at the faces. But now we have one of them. They'll help us out now."
"I'm not one of them," said Brad, "Please, I'm not. We were friends, long ago. I'd have willingly died for you. If you just give me a chance, I still will."
Finn stared at him a long, quiet moment. "You touch something in me," the young man said at last, "Though I'm not entirely sure what it is. Or maybe this entire situation's turned me as crazy as you."
"I'd think so!" retorted Sam.
"Let us say," said Finn evenly, "Theoretically, that I believe…"
"Oh please, Finn, don't," said Sam.
"People are after us for some reason, Sam," said Finn, "The entire situation is insane and one more crazy story certainly won't hurt," he winced, "Considering we have time on our hands yet and we really have nothing else to do here but listen and talk to each other." He turned to Brad, "All right, mister? Say I believe you, we've all lived once before, we all once were friends tasked to defeat a great foe. Who am I? Who are you? What parts did we play and what does it all have to do with today?"
The story of the Ring in a nutshell was by now very well-known to him, after having spent time with Legolas and company. Sam was frowning at him, and Finn looked intently, as if struggling to understand, perhaps remember. He knew for certain that a single telling wasn't enough, awakening was needed too and such epiphanies came at their own time. He himself was yet to remember, and was favored only by brushes of Boromir's strange memories.
Those eyes…
That look…
Their distrust…
"In the old days it was the Ring," said Brad, "And we figured if all the players are in the here and now, perhaps an artifact of some sort akin to the Ring must also be back. Does this sound in the least bit familiar to you? An artifact of some sort, something your uncle could have unearthed."
"The expedition unearthed many," said Finn thoughtfully, "The best one is on display tonight. It's an ankh."
He was a medical technician, of course he knew what that was. He's studied dead bodies in university, had an elective in pre-med school regarding the ancient arts of preservation and old medicine. It was the symbol of life after death.
"That about sounds sinister enough," Brad muttered, and though he knew there were many in existence, having found that ankh here was sending fear through him.
"It's on display?" asked Brad.
"Yes," Finn replied.
"Then it should be safe enough," Brad concluded, although for some reason, he wasn't all that sure.
Below Decks,
The Amazona
Mark and Pip turned a corner, and down the long hall they can see a bunch of unfamiliar, black-clad, rain-wet men coming down the same hall from the other end.
"Hey," Pip called out to them, "You're all stranded too?"
Eowyn and Faramir frowned, hearing the young Brit calling out to some strangers they were yet to see since they haven't turned the corner yet. The pair new that Gandalf, Elrohir and Eomer were following, but not this quickly.
"You can say that," came a familiar, sly voice.
Eowyn's breath caught as she recognized Grima Wormtongue. She grabbed Faramir's arm and rushed to turn the corner, crying, "Merry, Pippin! Run!"
Mark Brandy and Pip Took turned at the sound of her voice.
"What?" Pip asked, looking at her and then at the men on the other end of the hall, coming toward them with quickened steps. He felt Mark take him by the arm and pull him down the hall, toward Eowyn and Faramir.
A Motel
Sinop, Turkey
"Legolas? Aragorn?" they heard Faramir's breathless call over the comm. links, "Wormtongue is in the Amazona. Wormtongue is in the Amazona."
Legolas hurriedly set his eyes upon the dots that represented Eowyn and Faramir. They were moving down the lower decks of the Amazona, apparently at a mad run.
Lightning and thunder, and they were not so strange this stormy night, and that one came too close like the others before it, and the lights over his head flickered once again.
But this time, they died all together, and he was not quite surprised this had to be the exact moment when the electricity went down. He had a few minutes of laptop power left, to his relief.
"The lights are out," the Mirkwood elf announced, "We won't have very long on the comm. links. Did you see their full strength?"
"About thirty men or so," Faramir said breathlessly, "Armed to the teeth. They're right behind us. Merry and Pip are running with Eowyn and myself. Wormtongue and his troupe have not fired on our backs just yet. I suspect they want us alive."
Legolas thought quickly. "Ask the hobbits where Sam and Frodo are. Wherever they are, lead your pursuers away from there. Elladan and Aragorn will go that way and aid them. Gandalf, Elrohir and Eomer are on their way with a commandeered vessel. Get all the hobbits on that boat and spirit them away from the Amazona."
"And the rest of us?" Faramir asked.
"That Ankh is in there somewhere," said Legolas, "It must either be found, or must be kept from the hands of Wormtongue. Since none of us know where it is, but we all know where Wormtongue is, then we can only do the latter, and get the young ones out of harm."
"Understood," said Faramir.
Legolas took a deep, shaky breath, as his LCD flashed with a warning—the batteries were almost out. His window to their world was quickly closing.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Hey guys!!! Thanks for your time reading a reviewing. Chapter 35 will have everything bursting at the seams, haha :) keep the reading and reviewing coming if you can. 'TIL THE NEXT POST!!! :)