Disclaimer: LOTR does not belong to me. I wish it did. I will allow myself to be consoled by the fact that I own Hunter, Thor, and the Dreamworld.

A/N: Everyone who reviewed, thank you! I love getting reviews! Sorry, this chapter took longer than usual because of homework and some things I had to do. I will not be posting as often during the week due to school.

For anyone who finds my use of italics and single quoatation marks confusing, here are the rules for such usage.

Italics: for when Hunter (or any other character) is mentally conversing with his or her alter-self (I don't have a better name for it); or for emphasis in the normal narrative (not something that a character is thinking.) This may be confusing, but if it's the alter-self talking, there's usually a reply or something in the narrative that identifies that it's the alter-self.

Single Quotation Marks: for thoughts that aren't part of a self and alter-self conversation.

The alter-self may sound like a psychological theory. It's not. It's like the guardian angel and little devil thing, but it's not the same. You're know what I'm talking about after you read this chapter.

Chapter 3

Thor and Hunter in Rivendell

Hunter lay back and tried to relax. After his initial joy at learning that his friend was also at Rivendell, the thought had occured to him that the elf could have been talking about someone else. He'd felt like he'd been kicked in the chest. 'Look, you don't know who they were talking about. It could be Thor.' Then, again, it might not be, a nasty little voice whispered to him. Shut up, he told it.

Turning over, he shut his eyes and tried to sleep. There was nothing else that he could do but worry, and he was supposed to be sleeping, and he was sure that it would do him some good, but his frantic mind would not calm down. Not that he wasn't used to this. At home, he would often lie in bed for an hour after he had intended, just because his thoughts were wandering.

But at home it had been normal, just an overactive mind that wasn't ready to sleep. Right now, it was almost a frenzy--worries, trying to figure out what had happened, half-formed plans that kept popping into his mind. It was too much for him to control and it was giving him a headache. "Damn, damn, damn," he muttered. He rolled over and sat up. The elf had left a pitcher of water, so he got up and poured himself a glass, hoping that it might soothe his nerves. It didn't. But, strangely enough, he found himself yawning a few minutes later. 'Did he drug the water?' Hunter wondered. 'Yeah, probably.' Considering that he was going to collapse, it really didn't matter. Hunter lay down and slept.

He awoke the next morning feeling better than he had in ages. At home, he usually stayed up until the early hours of the morning and got four or five hours of sleep. During the weekend he usually slept more, but trying to fit all of the sleep he had missed during the week into two days was neither easy nor healthy. Sometimes Hunter and Thor debated whether or not schools were trying to drive their students insane by making them wake up so early for school. Didn't the morons understand that teens were less alert when school started not because of lack of sleep but because of natural biological factors? No, of course they didn't understand teens. 'And we let these people oversee the education of the next generation, the ones who will be paying their Social Security checks. Mon dieu.'

He sat up and looked around. Like yesterday, no one was there. 'Wonder if anyone's going to come?'

The elf he'd seen earlier chose that moment to wander in. 'Speak of the devil,' Hunter thought. The elf of course did not hear this (of course, he couldn't have, it was a thought), and started speaking. "How did you sleep?"

"Very well, thank you." Etiquette was practically inbred in Hunter. He supposed that it came from his father, who was a businessman and always going off to dinners with important people and thus had to know which fork to use and the most polite way to tell people they had marinara sauce splattered on their chin. It had other uses, though..

"Good," the elf said. "How do you fell?"

"Much better." Hunter paused. 'What is this guy's name?' He decided to ask. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name..." he let his voice trail off.

"Erestor," the elf supplied.

'Aha!' Hunter thought. 'So it was him!' Overjoyed by the revelation, he was completely distracted when Erestor spoke again.

"Your friend is here."

Hunter barely heard him. "I'm sorry, I missed that. Could you repeat what you said?"

Erestor smiled. "Your friend is here."

Hunter tried not to collapse. "Thor? How is she? When can I see her?" The questions almost flew out of him mouth, words tripping over each other.

"Physically, she appears to be fine, but she hasn't waken up yet. You can see her when she does."

"But can't I see her now," Hunter protested, completely forgetting his manners. (It wasn't like he cared.) "Please?" He tried not to look absolutely pathetic.

"She's not awake," Erestor pointed out.

"Please?" Hunter insisted.

Erestor gave up on the boy. "You may. Follow me." He rose and Hunter went after him.

"

Hunter entered the room to see Thor laying on her side in bed, breathing quietly. "I'll leave you two here," Erestor said. "Do not disturb her."

"I won't," Hunter said, more out of reflex than out of conscious decision. He'd grown so used to telling adults what they wanted to hear in school that it had almost become a reflex. But Erestor, he had decided, was not like most of his teachers. Most of them just had too many difficult students that they were happy to grant free rein to anyone who was passing the class and spoke politely. Erestor, on the other hand, seemed to actually care. Hunter had been surprised by this, but he paid it no mind. 'Hell, he must get paid much more than my teachers. Wait, does he actually have a salary here? Probably not, I don't think Tolkien ever thought about that. But the benefits must be pretty good.'

He sat down by Thor's bedside and slipped his hand around hers. "Hey," he said quietly, knowing that she couldn't hear him. She did, however, murmur in her sleep. "Yeah," Hunter said, not knowing what else to say, "we've landed ourselves in a pretty crummy situation." Thor shifted in response.

There was a loud noise and Hunter spun around to see a midget--A hobbit, he corrected himself--standing there. To be precise, it was a rather fat hobit. 'Holy crap, it's Sam!' he thought. The Hobbit looked utterly astonished to see him. "Hello," Hunter said, as Sam looked incapable of speaking. "You're Sam, right?" He knew that this was one thing that he wasn't supposed to know, 'but hell, I can always say someone told me.'

"Yes, sir," the confused hobbit said. He looked like he was going to say something else, but Hunter spoke before he could.

"No, my name's Hunter and you're probably older than I am anyhow. Pleased to make your acquaintence." He paused. "I'm sorry, were you looking for someone?"

Sam could only nod.

"Well, there's only Thor and me here, so you're probably looking for another room," Hunter told the hobbit in an unreasonably cheerful voice. Sam again nodded, said something polite about how much he'd like to spend some time with Hunter later, and fled. 'Aw, shit,' Hunter thought. 'Wouldh've been interesting to talk to him. Oh, what the hell. I should make up a cover story before I go talking to any main characters.' He stopped. Main characters? Where had that come from? 'Nevermind. They are after all main characters, the ones that I know most about. Now only if they were the main players...' His thoughts trailed off because he had already come to the conclusion before he could think it in words. Due to the many times that he had read The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit as a boy, he knew the main characters quite well. But not so with the major players that Tolkien had written little about. 'Well, I'll just have to hope I never have to deal with Thranduil. He's probably changed after...' he paused to work out the arithmetic 'nearly eighty years. Not long for an elf, but pleny of opportunities for change.'

Thor murmured something in her sleep and Hunter turned to look at her. "When'd you get here? After me, I suppose. Erestor would have had to have been lying. I don't think that's a common elven trait. I hope not. D'you think there are any books here? Probably not. I mean, we're in the hospital wing, aren't we? Both you and I have rooms close to each other and Sam came in trying to find Frodo just a few minutes ago." He stopped now and stared at his friend, who had not moved since Hunter had begun to talk.

Looking around, he noticed that there actually was a book. Several of them, to be exact. He walked over to the table where they were sitting, picked the first one up, and opened it. Unfortunately, it was written in Elvish, not even in the Latin alphabet. Which left the other six books. He glanced at their spines and discovered that one was in English. 'They must have human invalids occasionally,' he thought. He read the title again. Something about the battle in Mordor where Isildur cut the Ring off Sauron's hand. 'Great choice of reading for someone's who sick and probably depressed.' But what the hell, it looked interesting. Vaguely. Interesting enough for someone who's only other option was to sit there and talk to a person who probably wouldn't wake up for hours.

He settled down on the bed by Thor and began to read. Strangely enough, even though it was about people being killed, the words seemed to soothe him. 'Yeah. Definitely an elf who wrote this.' After all, they were the people who wrote songs about people like Gil-galad going off and getting killed. He smiled. Gil-galad was the name of his friend's cat. Well, to be honest, the cat's name was Gil-galad--it was Starlight, but Hunter called him Gil-galad anyways. After all, that was the ancient Elven warrior's name in English. It drove Laurence crazy.

Suddenly a voice startled him. "Hunter?" He nearly jumped at the sound. Hunter could only stare at his friend, who was currently looking up at him from where she lay. "Hunter?"

"Yeah." He didn't know what to say. He'd known he had to say something, for Thor's benefit, and that one little word had slipped out of his mouth.

"What the hell happened?" she asked him. Her voice was steady, but Hunter had known her long enough to know that she wouldh've been screaming that if she hadn't wanted not to. Her voice may have been calm, but the fear and anger told him that she was otherwise.

"I don't know. I woke up a day ago, talked to an Elf--Erestor's his name--"

Thor interrupted him. "Erestor?"

"Yeah. Thor, we're in Middle-Earth." He just sat there, holding his breath, hoping that she wouldn't laugh or call him a liar.

"Middle-Earth?" She said skeptically.

He nodded. "Rivendell, to be exact. Right after Frodo's wounded, I think. Sam came in here a little while ago."

Thor just stared at him.

"It's the truth," Hunter said, distressed. He needed to have at least someone who believed him. Someone to tell him he wasn't going insane. "Please, Thor, you've got to believe me. Would I lie about something like this?"

That was all Thor needed. She shook her head: she knew Hunter far too well for that. The guy was completely inept at pranks--he didn't have the heart for it--and Hunter was not cruel. Never. Blunt, glad to meet out revenge on their oppressors, but never cruel. "No. You wouldn't."

At this moment, another elf decided to walk in. "Hunter, Thor, I am glad to see you both well and awake."

Hunter and Thor simply stared.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Hunter asked.

The elf only smiled. "Elrond of Rivendell."

Next chapter: Elrond, Thor, and Hunter talk. That was supposed to be this chapter, but it was too long and I ran out of time. I hate bedtimes.

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