Author's Note: Timely update! Timely update! Aren't we amazing? Thank you, thank you *Nightrunners modestly accept all praise, presents, and offers of marriage*. Speaking of presents, we offer our happy belated birthday offerings to Dru, Jai and Ana. Ana, of course, is insufferably smug that she is several hours older than Jai and Dru, so she gets her birthday a day earlier. So, in the manner of hobbits, we give other people presents on their birthdays. In this case, we offer a timely update. Hope everyone enjoys.



Cheers,

The Nightrunners







Vodka is the Backdoor to Enlightenment



Soundtrack: "To the Moon and Back" (Savage Garden)



She's taking her time making up the reasons

To justify all the hurt inside

Guess she knows from the smiles

and the look in their eyes

Everyone's got a theory about the bitter one

They're saying, "Mamma never loved her much"

And, "Daddy never keeps in touch

That's why she shies away from human affection"

But somewhere in a private place

She packs her bags for outer space

And now she's waiting for the right kind of pilot to come

And she'll say to him

I would fly to the moon & back if you'll be...

If you'll be my baby

Got a ticket for a world where we belong

So would you be my baby?

She can't remember a time when she felt needed

If love was red then she was colour blind

All her friend they've been tried for treason

And crimes that were never defined

She's saying, "Love is like a barren place,

And reaching out for human faith

Is like a journey I just don't have a map for"

So baby's gonna take a dive and

Push the shift to overdrive

Send a signal that she's hanging

All her hopes on the stars

What a pleasant dream

I would fly to the moon & back if you'll be...

If you'll be my baby

Got a ticket for a world where we belong

So would you be my baby?







It was a high-class bar somewhere near the centre of the Quartier, crowded with office workers who had stopped for a few drinks on their way home. Ties were loosened, jackets were shed, high heels were kicked off. The subdued lighting glinted off shot glasses, and the buzz of conversation was punctuated with laughter, the clink of glasses and the slosh of alcohol. The pervading sentiment ran somewhere along these lines:



Thank *God* it's Friday.



There were two women perched at the bar. Both had knocked back two shots of vodka within five minutes of entering, and were currently nursing their third.



They were both very striking women, and, ordinarily, they would have been approached by no less than five men before they'd finished their first drink. However, these two were surrounded by some indefinable aura of danger, something that put even the most drunkenly confident off their stride. It put one in mind of a pair of poisonous snakes, just waiting to be pissed off. Either that, or the sort of gorgeous Amazon-like space aliens that kill unsuspecting men in bad science-fiction movies.



Erin had pulled on Alice's black leather gloves to cover her bleeding hands, which had been torn up during her frantic subway wall-climb. She finished her drink, toyed with the idea of ordering another, but decided against it. Beside her, Alice laughed a little.



"You know, it's actually sort of funny, when you think about it."



"What?"



"That we both nearly killed ourselves and saved the Dark Lord the trouble."



"Oh, shut up." Erin gingerly prodded her shoulder, where a large bruise was forming, courtesy of a witch-dropped garbage can. "I owe you one good smack, by the way. I don't think I'll ever be able to wear a sleeveless dress again."



"It's your own fault, anyway." The witch winced as she arched her back, her ribs protesting violently. "You kicked me. Ow. I can't believe you kicked me."



"Get over it, you baby. So, you're Alice. You still look more like an Arwen."



"Yeah, I try. So you're Eowyn?"



"Yep. Erin Stuart, currently of Ithilien Intelligence, II to our friends. I've know who I am, sorry, *was*, for the past couple of years."



Fortunately, Alice had recently acquired the knack for following surreal conversations. "So what the hell happened to you? Why did you remember, I mean?"



Erin fiddled with her shot glass. "It started when I was just a kid, actually. I was only ten when the war broke out, living in Belfast with my parents and my brother Eric. I started having dreams about riding horses." Her eyes hardened against a sudden memory. "My folks didn't want to leave the city, even when the fighting got worse. They got caught in the crossfire when some soldiers took down a necromancer. Collateral damage, the cops said."



"I'm sorry."



Erin shrugged. "It was a long time ago. Eric was fifteen, and we got out of the city before Social Services could start sniffing around. Not that they did much, during the war. Too many kids, too many broken homes, y'know?"



"All too well."



"The dreams started including a huge black monster and swords. Anyways, we got to London, fell in with a sort-of freelance mercenary group. Bloody-minded bastards, actually. They kept Eric around because he was good in a scrap, even against mages. Me, because I was little and cute, and they thought I was funny. Little red pigtails and my brother's gun in my hands."



"Jesus."



"Don't know if you know it, but they were fighting an urban war in London. The whole damn city was a battle-zone. Militia, mages, soldiers, a few wizards and necromancers, so it was pretty hard to keep track of who was fighting who. You gained some sort of skill that made you worth protecting, or you died pretty fast."



"And you?"



"Computer hacking. Setting up stings for the army. Um, liberating funds when they weren't readily available, that sort of thing. That's rather the reason I ran into trouble when the war ended. Suddenly, hacking's not a great societal skill. It's something they frown on when they see it on job applications."



"Let me guess. You did something that I'd probably have to arrest you for?"



"Uh, yes. Several somethings. I was sixteen and sitting on my ass in a juvenile prison, the kind the government never quite has the budget to revamp. At any rate, I'd probably be there still, if it hadn't been for Gandalf."



"Gandalf?!"



Erin grinned. "Don't sound so surprised, dear. At this point, the dreams had taken a turn towards the gutting of monsters on battlefields. Lots of intestines. Being a reincarnated princess was a nice explanation, much better than a long, painful slide towards insanity; besides, this guy had pulled a *lot* of favours to get me out. Then he took me back to Ireland. Eric was there. I walked into the room, and all I saw was a horse and a shield and a spear, and everything just *clicked*, you know? It was like remembering something that you couldn't remember forgetting, if that makes any sense."



"Actually, it does."



"So I started working with Ithilien Intelligence. After four months of working there, this *amazing* guy shows up at my office, with a smile that would drop you in your tracks. My first thought, literally, was 'I'm going to marry this man'. It was Finn." She smiled. "We got married a few months ago."



"Congratulations, you lucky bitch."

"So that's about it for Eowyn/Erin 101. Any questions, students?"



"Yeah, I have to ask. Does it get any easier? I mean, the feeling that you've got twice as much personality as before?"



"Not really, but you get used to it. There's a few other reincarnations kicking around. My brother Eric, that's Eomer, he's somewhere in the city. Hama was in New York, but we've lost contact with him, we're afraid that he's probably dead. We've got quite a few of the old Rohirrim working at II. And there's Finn and Barry and your Adam, the Gondorian darlings. Speaking of which, have you any idea where our gentlemen lovers went?"



"Hey, woah, stop there." Alice blushed faintly, a look that wasn't very common for her. "First off, he's not my lover."



"Really?" Erin's grin was mischievous. "When do you intend to remedy that?"



"You know, I don't think I hit you quite hard enough." The blush was firmly entrenched now.



Erin, seeing her advantage, pursued the point ruthlessly. "Do you love him?"



Alice frowned, tugged at a stray lock of hair, a habit she'd unconsciously picked up from Adam. "I don't think it's that simple."



"Love rarely is," said Erin. "But do continue."



Alice drummed her fingers on the bar, trying to organize her thoughts. "I think I was in love with Adam before I realized I had an Elf princess riding shotgun. It was like I kept the world at arm's length, and he was the only one who cared enough to get close. It didn't seem to matter to him how many times he got burned."



"And then?"



"And then this reincarnated personality appears, and suddenly I feel like there's another person inside my head, who's not me, but *is* me at the same time, and we both want different things, even though we both want the same person..." she trailed off. "Is this making any sense to you? Because I've just managed to confuse myself."



"I think I get it. Adam wants you. You want him, but you also want Aragorn, but he can't remember you, so a big part of you is unsatisfied with this arrangement..."



"Oh my god, I think I've gone cross-eyed."



Erin threw back her head and laughed, an action which caused half a dozen men to look towards her with longing in their eyes. "Oh, Arwen, Alice, whoever the hell you are, if it's love, just run with it, and see where it takes you. Because life's too damned short to waste opportunities like this."



"Ugh. You're probably right. And I've had too much to drink."



"On second thought-" the mischievous glint had returned to Erin's eyes. "From what I saw of him, Adam really *is* quite cute, and maybe if I asked Finn really nicely-"



Alice cut her off with a glare that was sharp enough to cut glass. The effect was only slightly softened by the quirk of her lips. "*Mine*."



**********



"Try Adam's cell phone again."



"I have. Three times. He's not picking up."



"Well, do you want to go back to the apartment and wait for him? He's bound to show up eventually. Either he'll lose Finn and Barry and work his way back there, or they'll catch up with him and convince him they're on his side. Either way, he's bound to turn up." Erin tossed her scarf over her shoulder. "Besides, I really want to clean up my hands and put some ice on this shoulder."



"Okay, I guess. But only if you swear on your grandmother's silver, your puppy dog, and your favourite pair of boots that you're not a spy of Sauron who's going to slaughter Legolas, Gabe and the Hobbits the moment I lead you there."



"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer."



"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's this way."



Alice led the way towards Bloc 709. The passed through the lobby, and took the elevator up the six floors to their rooms. As they walked down the dim, carpeted hall, Erin glanced around with approval. "This is very nice."



"Yeah, I know. Adam had a hidden account. It has more money in it than I make in two years, and that's including Christmas bonuses."



"Sneaky bastard. So that's why we couldn't track you."



At the end of the hall, Alice spoke the trigger-wards to open the door. Gabe and the Hobbits had wired the apartment with some fairly advanced rune-locks, which still looked intact. Alice opened the door-



-to find Gabe standing in the middle of the main room, swearing in about four languages, none of which she recognized. Felix and Sam were sprawled over the couch, looking utterly defeated.



Erin momentarily forgotten, Alice hurried inside. "What is it? What's wrong?"



Gabe swung towards her. "I leave for *twenty* minutes, and the *fucking* Elf is gone!"



She felt her stomach drop. A quick inspection of the bedroom, however, confirmed what Gabe had said. The bed was immaculate, the curtains flung open; there was no sign of the Elf who'd occupied the room for three days.



Except for Legolas' white filagree knives. They were lying on the pillow, looking like the ghosts of ancient blades in the fading light. Alice reached out and cautiously touched one of the hilts, feeling a tingle of magic at the contact with the enchanted weapon. It was still warm, as though a hand had gripped it only moments ago.



She blinked. There was love in these blades, like a warm light, and also millennia of blood, like a smoky black cloud. There was time, weariness, and a sort of fey magic twisted through. So much memory, so much time, and the essential essence of their Elven wielder, but she felt no recent fear or pain.



She told Gabe, and he nodded. "He told me, back in New York, that his father gave him the knives, that they're charmed. They're supposed to be indestructible until he dies. So the fact that they're still there tells us that he's alive."

"Um, excuse me?"



Alice and Gabe turned to find Erin at the threshold of the bedroom, Felix and Sam standing behind her, looking nervous.



"If our people found him, then I know where they'd have taken him."



Alice wanted to cry, she was so relieved. She fought it back. "Where did they take him?"



"To Goldenwood and the Elves. I know how to get there."



Behind Erin, Felix coughed politely. "I don't mean to be rude, but who the hell are you?"



She turned and shot them a dazzling smile. "Eowyn of Rohan, currently Erin Stuart of Ithillien Intelligence. Nice to meet you."



The two rockers looked unfazed. Felix nodded. "Okay. That's cool."



"You know where to find the Elves?" asked Gabe.



Erin nodded. "Yes. II is affiliated with Goldenwood Enterprises. We're one of their branches, if you'll excuse the pun."



Alice headed towards the door. "Brilliant. Then you can take us there right now."



Gabe caught her arm. "Wait a minute. Adam, Peter, and Mark aren't back yet. We can't all go and leave them by themselves, and I'm not letting you go alone. If you're going, take one of the Hobbits with you."



"Okay. Felix, you wanna see the Elves?"



"Sure." He turned to Sam. "You and Gabe wait here for the others, okay? They should be here soon, and you can follow us."



Sam nodded. "Okay. Be careful."



Alice tapped her cell phone. "We'll contact you when we get there. Maybe we can get them to send someone to pick you up."



Gabe followed them to the door. "Make sure the pointy-eared bastards put Legolas back together properly, or I'm going to be *really* pissed off."



The door swung shut behind them, and Alice followed Erin down the hall, Felix trailing a few steps behind them. Suddenly, the witch turned to the other woman with a fey and decidedly unAlice-like look in her eyes.



"I cannot *wait* to see the look on Ada's face!"







To the non-elvish speaking population: 'Ada' means 'Father'.