Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is not mine. Whatever is left of the Woodland Wanderers when this story is done is kind of mine. :)

"All that is necessary for the forces of evil to win in the world is for enough good men to do nothing." –I don't remember this guy's name, either, but he was brilliant.

Chapter Eighteen
A Good Man's Goal

"All right, very quietly now," Eric said. "The gleems can be very stupid, but they can also be very smart, and they have good hearing."

"Wonderful," Elrond sighed. "So what's your idea?"

"We just need to get to the dungeon. Follow me."

"How would you know where it is?" Glorfindel asked.

"Oh, yes. You weren't here for that . . . er . . . delightful conversation. I used to live here . . . for a time."

Aragorn just shrugged. Eric had seen a lot, been through more than his fair share of trials and hard times, and it showed, showed in the way he spoke, the way he acted, the way he treated strangers other people wouldn't quite trust.

They reached the door of the dungeon. "It only locks and unlocks from the outside," he explained, "so there's almost no way to escape unless you have someone out here to help you out. Tandro, do you think you can pick this stupid lock?"

"I'm not as good as Latano, but I can try."

"All right, but be quiet about it."

"Wait, there's something–gleems, coming down the hall," Noka whispered.

"Gandalf, Radagast, can't you . . ." Avanwë started.

"I've told you," Gandalf said. "The rules. We're not supposed to . . ."

"Forget it!" Avanwë shouted in a whisper. "Hang the code, and hang the rules! They're more like guidelines, anyway!"

Radagast looked at Gandalf, who shrugged. The two wizards joined hands with Avanwë. Thunder erupted around the tower. Brilliant white light alternated with pitch-black darkness. The gleems ran away, terrified.

"Gandalf, look!" Pippin exclaimed. The gleems had dropped three people, all of them badly hurt, wounds still untended.

"Oh, no," Radagast whispered. Gandalf struck the dungeon door with his staff. It shattered.

"Now Athos will be mad," Eric managed to laugh. "The gleems worked hard on that door."

Tandro smiled, but no one really laughed. Merry and Sam made their way out of the dungeon, a little shocked by the sudden light and darkness, to say nothing of the thunder.

But if they were shocked by this, they were overwhelmed when Pippin whispered to them that Legolas was alive. Then they saw that three that lay on the ground where the gleems had left them. "Oh my goodness!" Sam exclaimed, barely managing to keep his voice low so the other gleems wouldn't hear. "What happened to them?"

"Poison," Eric said coldly. "Same as Legolas. It could be fatal." He tried so hard to sound like he was only stating facts, but everyone could see how this kind of thing hurt him. "Let's get out of here," he said. "Radagast, can you . . ?"

"I think so." The Wizard knelt down and lightly touched Peter's walking stick. "Close your eyes," he said.

"There's nothing you can do, is there?" Bergil asked.

"I'm afraid there isn't, my young friend, but we'll keep trying, keep searching," Ronosa answered the lad. "If I could just get him conscious, if he could respond to something, if he could tell me what was going on . . ."

But Legolas had no way to tell him, tell him he was still conscious, listening to them. He couldn't move, couldn't talk, could barely breathe.

It was like a dark tunnel with no end. It was like running into a stone wall every time he tried to move. At the same time, it wasn't fighting him. It didn't have to. It could just engulf him, with the right amount of time.

But the Elf wasn't ready to give up yet.

"Why won't this work?" Athos asked after trying two dozen times to leave Lothlorien.

"You're trying to leave alone."

"So?"

"Take me with you."

"What? You're kidding, right?"

"No. Try it."

"If you say so. I don't want the gleems to hurt you, though."

"They won't."

"I guess I should know better than to argue with the Lady of the Golden Wood."

"Yes, you should."

"Close your eyes."

"Open your eyes," Radagast said. They did.

"What took you so long?" Latano asked without looking up.

"Picked up a few more passengers," Tandro said. "Visited a light festival in the process."

"Yeah. I heard the thunder from here. No clouds, so I guessed some other source. How're . . . oh, my goodness . . ." He noticed Peter, Morgan, and Faramir.

"What've you found out about the poison?" Elrond asked.

"Almost nothing," Ronosa sighed, "whoever you are."

"I'm Elrond."

"You're a doctor?"

"I'm a healer."

"Good enough."

"Hannon le."

"Whatever. I'm just a medicine kyte. I don't specialize in weird languages."

"It means thank you."

"If you say so. Well, Elrond, I haven't the slightest idea how to help this Elf. If I knew what was happening inside him–his mind, his heart, but he's unconscious."

"No . . . he's not," Avanwë said slowly. "He's awake. He can hear us. He just can't respond. His mind is . . . trapped somehow . . ." Her voice trailed off.

"Avanwë, what is it?" Elrond asked, but the Elf had fainted.

In the commotion, no one noticed the Hobbits sneaking off with Bergil.

"Open your eyes," Galadriel instructed.

"Whoa, what are we doing here? I said the tower, not the Unknown Forest!"

"You said no such thing."

"Fine. What in this galaxy are we here for?"

"Do you believe in helping an enemy when he's down?"

"Hardly."

"What about helping a friend?"

"Of course."

"Do you know where Morgan is?"

Athos paused a second. "She's close, but she won't tell me any more. That can only mean one thing, Lady Galadriel. She's been hurt badly and doesn't want to pass any pain on to me."

"Exactly, mellon nin."

"Don't bother calling me a friend."

"And why not?"

"I don't deserve it."

"Morgan thinks you do."

"Well, that's Morgan. She's a fool."

"She believes in helping an enemy when he's down."

"So do they all. That's the real reason they haven't won yet. Not long ago, they had the chance to let the elves kill Angelica and me. If not for Morgan and Peter, they may have done it."

"Were you scared?"

"No. I don't fear death. That's one thing I have in common with them all."

"Two of them are facing it now."

"Peter, too? Why am I not surprised? Sometimes I think he's trying to get himself killed."

"Who?" came a voice from behind them. Athos whirled around, but then relaxed. It was Pippin. "Come on out, you four," the young Hobbit whispered. "It's safe. Lady Galadriel is here, too." Three more Hobbits and a young human stepped out from behind the trees.

"What do you want?" Athos groaned.

"Well," Sam started. "Mr. Frodo says you must have a reason for doing what you're doing, Mr. Athos, sir. We were just wonderin' what it was."

"Oh, only curious, are you?" Athos smiled. "Close your eyes, and I shall show you all what you may or may not want to see."

"What happened to her?" Balo asked.

"Her mind . . . she's connected to him somehow. They share feelings, thoughts, pain. My guess is she was trying to help him out, the best way she knew," Radagast said.

"Will she . . ?" Aragorn started to ask.

"I don't think so," Latano said. "The poison can't hurt her. She can only share his pain, but that alone might help. Her strength added to his might be enough to stop it."

"I doubt it," Nora said. "The poison is strong."

"Sis, for the millionth time, you rely too much on facts and figures," Noka put in. "Together, they might be able to hold on long enough for the rest of us to find a cure."

"Since Avanwë said he is conscious, knowing everyone else is safe will definitely encourage him," Latano said. "Aragorn, Gimli, you especially. I can tell a great friendship exists between the three of you."

"What about the others?" Aragorn asked.

"I don't know," Latano admitted. "I just don't know."

"Well, I do," Eric said. "We need help, and we're not going to get it just sitting here. We need Peter awake or at least conscious to get off this crazy island, so that's out. That leaves the dwarves, who know nothing about gleem poison, the kytes, of whom Ronosa only knows even a little, and the elves."

"Who know a lot?" Eomer guessed. Eric nodded.

"No way," Noka said firmly. "Last time we tried to go back there for help, we were all captured and would've been killed if it weren't for Balo. The time before that, Peter go shot. There's no way they'll help us."

"Then perhaps I can," suggested a soft voice from behind them. It was Galadriel.

"How did you . . ?" Glorfindel asked, but then, realizing what a foolish question it was, tried another one. "Where're the Hobbits?"

Eowyn looked around. "And Bergil," she added.

"Oh, no," Aragorn whispered.

"What is it?" Eric asked.

"They're with Athos."

"Open your eyes," Athos said, smiling. They were off that crazy island, out of the place where he felt so much tension. Now he was relaxed. He could be himself.

"Where are we?" Bergil asked.

"Welcome to Indiana, mellon nin." He started whistling some strange tune that others would've recognized as "Gary, Indiana," from The Music Man.

"To what?" Pippin asked.

"Follow me," Athos said.

"Why should we trust you?" Frodo asked suspiciously.

"Because I could easily blow this whistle and call the gleems down to attack you. You wouldn't stand a chance, but I want you to understand me."

They walked about a dozen meters and stopped at a house. "Nice place," Sam said, immediately noticing the garden.

"It certainly looks that way," Athos nodded, his voice suddenly sad. "A family of four lives here, or what passes for a family of four, my friends. The mother is never home. Mostly, she's in jail for doing drugs or drunk driving or something of that sort. The father has two jobs, one at a store and one at a factory, and can still barely manage to pay for food and housing. The sixteen-year-old brings his girlfriend home half the time because her parents are always fighting. The ten-year-old here wraps herself in sports, school, books, anything to keep her mind off the horrors of real life."

His companions' eyes were wide. "Welcome to my world," Athos nodded. "It can get worse than this, but I don't want to show you more of this kind of thing than I have to. This is why. I can change all of this. If they would only see . . ."

"Who planted the flowers?" Sam asked.

"The yellow and white ones, daisies, grow here naturally. They're actually considered a weed in most places. The smaller purple ones are called tobacco weed. The red ones are tulips. The father, Nicholas, planed those. The son, Arthur, planted the roses, and the daughter planed . . . well, everything else: lilies, sunflowers, marigolds."

"You know them pretty well?" Sam asked

"I guess you could say that. I stop here a couple times a month, disguised as a traveling salesman. Only the children know who I really am. I help them out however I can, but I usually don't have any money–just vegetables and fruits the gleems grow." He chucked a little. "Angelica usually objects to the leader of the gleems going house to house like a homeless man, but I like it."

"How long have you been doing this?" Frodo asked.

"Quite a while. I've visited this particular house for three years now. Some I've been to for even longer than that."

Pippin, all this time, had been unusually quiet. Merry glanced over at his friend to see if he might be planning something. Sure enough, Pippin had that look in his eyes. "Follow me," he whispered to Merry and Bergil. They hurried off before Athos could notice.

"You have a plan?" Merry asked.

Pippin nodded. "We need to convince him this place doesn't need to be changed."

"From what I've seen, it does," Merry observed.

"Then we need to convince him that this isn't the way to do it," Bergil said. "The taking-over-the-world-thing, I mean. The going-house-to-house-helping-people thing is more on the right track."

"How do we do that?" Merry asked.

"I have a plan," Pippin smiled.

Kabuki773701 -- Oh, I like cliffhangers. :) Muahahahahaha. Just got finished watching the second Matrix movie. (Haven't seen the third one yet.) So I'm in a cliffhanger mood. :)