Celebwen Telcontar: Here's a new story.
Balrog: I see. (Goes back to drinking lava slushy)
With a sharp twang, Silence released the string. The arrow shot for the target, and its head buried itself in the center of the bull's-eye.
"Good!" Danielle cried to her daughter. Then, she smiled at the girl. "Come with me. Put away the archery stuff. You're good enough and dark haired, tall, and queenly enough to be the one we're waiting for."
"The one who's waiting for?"
"One of our ancestors foresaw that one of her descendants would be strong enough to get what we have been trying to get for the past… well, over a million years, I can tell you that much for sure; our home, our country. But there's also a legend, telling of a massive treasure under a mountain, guarded by a worm." Silence choked on her tongue.
"A… worm? You mean a little peach colored slimy thing that lives in the dirt?"
"I guess. That's what the legend says."
"Must be something else, otherwise I don't know how anyone didn't find it before now."
"I know."
"Ha. Are there any clues to this mystery land and even more mysterious treasure? Earthworm included?"
"That I don't know about. But we do have clues. Come on, put that stuff away, and come inside. I'll get you a cup of peppermint tea."
"Thanks." Silence coiled the bowstring after unstringing the bow, placed the arrows in her quiver, and brought everything, including the old painted straw and canvas target, into the garage, where the elements wouldn't harm them. She then placed her armguard and half-glove for the string in the archery basket, and went inside to the smell of fresh peppermint tea.
Silence watched the tea steep until it was a deep brown in color, strained it, and took a tentative sip, burning her tongue. "Ow, damn!" she hissed, before her mother came downstairs with an ancient wooden crate, and a medium sized book, bound in rotting brown leather that looked as if it had once perhaps been red in color. The pages were crinkled and worn, yellowed and seemed to be almost moth-eaten in places. A frayed end of leather the same color as the covers paid testament that the book had been fitted with a leather book ribbon, but that had obviously broken.
"You can look through this, but be very careful. Very careful; it's extremely old. Somehow we managed to get the gifts, even when your father should have kept them." She removed a large bundle; a bag which she removed a bunched up scarf from, then from that came three socks, nested inside one anther, and finally a wool bag and a little piece of glass, a container of some sort. "Shut the light, Silence." The younger woman obeyed, and the glass shone like a little lantern of its own. Silence's arms dropped to her sides.
"What is it?"
"What does it look like?"
"Can't be… It can't be… It just cannot be the phial of water that Galadriel gave to Frodo!" Silence whispered. Danielle smiled. "The Lord of the Rings isn't real!"
"My daughter, Silence Dogood Gates, it is."
"I thought you were insane before. Okay, now I'm positive. Where's the light's battery pack?
"Silence! Watch your tongue!" Danielle scolded. Silence cared less about manners now than anything as she watched her mother lift an old weather-beaten piece of paper on a board out of the crate, covered in cloth and a layer of bubble wrap.
"What… Is that the… The map that Bilbo used?" She was just as skeptical about the Lord of the Rings being real now than anything.
"Yes. And the book is—"
"The Red Book of Westmarch! The Lord of the Rings as written by Bilbo Baggins, Frodo Baggins, and Samwise Gamgee! You actually expect me to believe that? I believe it as much as I believe that there's some massive treasure the Founding Fathers hid. You are just as crazy as you claim my father to have been."
"Your father was crazy. Or the fact that he was a Gates proves that. All Gates' are crazy."
"You included apparently. I've had enough of this."
"Silence, how can I prove to you what I'm saying is real?"
"Show me some real evidence, not just some antique book, a battery powered light inside a funny shaped sheath, and a crate full of archaic weaponry and clothing!"
"What if I showed you this?" She lifted a box, and it showed a nut inside some grey soil. "This is from the Mallorn in the Shire that Sam Gamgee planted. The soil is all that's left of Lothlórien soil." Silence arched an eyebrow.
"And how am I supposed to believe that?"
"I… I'll plant it."
"You'll plant it. And what happens until spring, when I see that your so-called Mallorn blooms?"
"Please believe me Silence!"
"Mom, you're insane. Put away the archaic weaponry… Wait. Let me see that. I've been wanting to try out with a real sword."
"The sword of Boromir, reforged after being broken in his battle with the Uruks."
"Riiiighhhht. It's a sword."
"Len,"
"Mom… Never mind." She walked out into her fencing room, and placed one hand on the archaic sword's hilt, the other on the scabbard. She drew the sword in one swift movement, placing the sheath on the wall on a decorative rack. She then began to work through the phases of the passes and a block, realizing that though the sword was heavy and longer than she was used to in a real fencing weapon, the balance was perfect. Then, she saw the blade. A tree was etched into it, and there were seven stars over it. She nearly dropped it. The sign of the Stewards. And Boromir was the son of the Gondorian Steward. She had to put the sword down before she hurt herself or re-broke the blade. She put it in the scabbard, and, for lack of anything else to do, belt the scabbard about her waist.
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"Alright, Mom. I believe that the stuff is very old, but also that someone carved in the symbol of the Stewards into the blade. Where's Anduril?"
"Right here." Silence drew the blade halfway, and saw a device of seven stars set between the crescent moon and the rayed sun, and about them was written many runes. When held in the sun, the sword shone red, and Silence believed that the moonlight shone coldly on it.
"Hmmm. How old are these carvings, I wonder? Not nearly as old as the blade, because if its as old as you claim it is, then they wouldn't have had such delicate tools, much less steel."
"Here. Do your worst to this, it wont break no matter what you do to it," Danielle said, handing her a silver shirt small enough for a child.
"Hmm. I wonder, it looks as if it's made of silver and quartzite."
"Try it." Silence made a swift jab with a long dagger, thinking that the rings would break. The dagger clanged, and there was a crack as the dagger snapped off at the hilt.
"How… It can't be that strong." She lifted her fencing sword, made of pure steel, and brought it down on the coat. It rang, and the fencing blade was dulled and mashed in the shape of the rings. The mail wasn't harmed in the least. "Well, I guess it is. That proves it. Either the sword's made of something softer than wax, or the mail is Mithril. It's got to be. There's no other explanation. I'll try out the bow and arrows next; they must have belonged to Legolas, if your theory is correct." She strung the bow quickly, went out into the garage with an arrow, and aimed. The bow was difficult to draw, but when she did let loose, the bow sent the arrow whizzing towards the target. The arrow buried itself, head shaft and feather, in the straw and the wall, which was made of super strong plywood and fiberglass under dry walling. "Good God," she whispered. "Mom," she called. "Take a look at this!"
"Holy… Even I didn't imagine Legolas' bow to be that strong!"
"I… I agree with you on the hypothosys. I've seen Boromir's sword, Aragorn's sword, Merry, Pippin, or Sam's sword which I broke, and Frodo's mail shirt."
"Not to mention the phial of Galadriel and the Red Book. And the cloaks of Lothlórien."
"Right. I do not believe this is happening to me."
"It could be worse."
"Alright. Who are we?"
"The descendants of Bard the Bowman."
"The Royalty of Dale? As in Esgaroth? I believe that the Fellowship was a bunch of real people and the Lord of the Rings was real. Everything else I'm skeptical about."
"When will you believe that I speak the truth? The honest to God truth?"
"Don't blaspheme. And I'll believe it when we see Dale, I see the skeleton of Smaug the Dragon, and people start bowing to us."
"You are really skeptical, you know that?"
"Of course I am. What do you expect me to be? I work in the FBI, remember?"
"I didn't forget. It's just that you can be too skeptical sometimes."
"Of course I can. Now I'd best be going, I've got to get to that gala tonight."
"I still can't believe you got in the FBI while your last name is Gates."
"Simple. I don't believe that ridiculous treasure story you said Grandpa John used to tell Dad."
"He's a Gates."
"So am I. Is that supposed to mean something?" Silence called downstairs as she went up to begin to get ready for the gala.
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Silence saw the woman look to the doorway and follow someone. Silence decided to follow the woman to see what was the matter. As her quarry sped up, so did the blonde woman. Then, Silence recognized the man.
"Ben!" she asked the air quietly as she sped up, picking up her skirts to all but canter down the stairs. She was glad that the heels she wore had traction, or else she would be at the bottom with a broken neck in no time. "Ben, wait!" she cried. Her fleeing twin brother didn't even stop for a heartbeat. He walked casually across the street, went near a red van, and that was where the blonde woman and Silence caught up to him.
"Silence!" Ben asked in a quiet whisper as if he wasn't sure she was real.
"Give me the declaration," Blondie said sharply.
"The Declaration? Please don't say that you stole the Declaration of Independence. Please don't."
"He did," Blondie said in a crisp chirp.
"You… You did? You stole… the… Declaration of Independence? And here I thought that this wasn't possible."
"Uh, Ben? We have to leave. Soon."
"I know. Ian's here."
"Crap!"
"Shit! Oh, no you don't!" Ben cried as he sprinted off after Blondie, who had stolen back the Declaration. Then, she was intercepted by a catering van, and Ben cursed even worse. "Go after it!" he cried, shoving Silence unceremoniously into the van and jumping in himself. Then, the merry chase began.
The catering truck and the red van played a game of chase as the night unfolded. Then, the truck's back doors popped open, and the blonde woman swung out, holding the door. A blonde man with a rugged face that Silence decided she liked held the Declaration. The van door slid open, and Ben grabbed Blondie.
"Damn!" Blondie cried, about to smack Ben in the face.
"I want an explanation. This had better not be about that damned treasure," Silence grumbled, narrowing her eyes at her twin.
"Yes, it is. And Dr. Chase, the Declaration is here." Ben opened a tube and shook out, very carefully, a brownish roll that looked a lot like leather sliding out slightly. Dr. Chase took a swipe at it.
"Give me that!"
"No. I'll keep it."
"Give it to me!"
"No!"
"Your apartment?" Riley called from the drivers seat.
"No! I had to swipe a card."
"You had to swipe a card! Where to, then?"
"A park at first. Then, I'll figure something else out." Riley pulled over at a park, and Ben got out and started to pace. "We need those letters. We need them badly."
"What letters?"
"Quiet please. The Silence Dogood letters."
"Wha… Never mind. Not me," Silence muttered, sitting in her seat, examining her fingernails. She couldn't believe her brother, her own brother, would steal the Declaration of Independence, and abduct a woman from the National Archives Gala, and her as well.
"You have the original Silence Dogood letters!" Dr. Chase cried.
"Will you please be quiet?" Ben said, a little more testily than before.
"How did you get them?"
"She really can't shut up, can she?"
"How did you get them?"
"I don't have them, I know who has them. Now the question is if Dad will let me use them for a few minutes. Now I will let you hold this, only hold it, if you will please shut up!" Ben snapped at her, handing her the Declaration of Independence in its red document case. Seconds later, Dr. Chase was sprinting across the lawn in her bare feet, the document clutched in her hands. "Not cool, not cool!" Ben cried, sprinting after her and wrestling her over to the van again. "Give me that. Now go, shoo!"
"Not without the Declaration."
"You're not going with the Declaration."
"Then I'm going with you."
"No you're not!"
"Look, if you wanted to leave me behind, you shouldn't have told me where you were going." Riley groaned and clunked his head on the doorframe.
"Lovely. So you keep the both of us. With the Declaration of Independence, and the charge of theft of a high-security document and kidnapping of two employees of the national government marring your record. You are not going to remain free for a long time more, brother-mine," Silence said quietly. "Might as well get comfortable and acquainted. I'm Silence, this idiot's sister. I'm the sane one in the family."
"The sane one?"
"My mother believes that the Lord of the Rings is real." Dr. Chase whistled.
"That is crazy. I'm Abigail by the way."
"Hey, keeping me out of the conversation? I'm Riley."
"Nice to meet you, I'm sure. Ben, where does Dad live?"
"Don't you know?"
"My parents split up when I was about eight months old. I never knew him beyond that. Ben and I get together about once or twice a year, if that. Other than that, I fence, arch, and study Tolkien when not working."
"You study Tolkien?"
"My maternal side of the family is related to the Tolkien family through an obscure branch dealing with Priscilla M.A.R. Tolkien, and my mom, grandmother, Priscilla herself, her father, and so on believed that the Lord of the Rings was real, and that my family is descended of Dale royalty."
"Dale royalty?"
"As in Bard the Bowman who brought down Smaug the Worm."
"I see."
"Yes. I'll admit to it. I'm the sanest member of the family."
"Dad has life insurance and a job," Ben put in.
"Never mind. I'm tied with my father for family sanity. Unfortunately for Ben, he gets it from both sides."
"Have you found anything Tolkien related?" Ben asked, pulling onto an exit.
"A bunch of stuff I believed to be phony until I crushed my fencing sword on what looked to be a small shirt of silver and quartzite."
"Frodo's mail shirt," Abigail said quietly.
"And his phial of Galadriel was there, as were all the gifts given in Lothlorien, Anduril, Boromir's sword, and the Red Book of Westmarch."
"How can you be sure all of it is real?"
"I smashed my sword down onto the mail, and so it's really mithril, I'm sure of that. I couldn't find the phial's battery pack… All of it follows, save the Mallorn seed from Sam's Mallorn in the Shire, which we'll have to see if it is a Mallorn."
The hours passed, and soon they were at a small suburban house in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
The four of them went up to the door, and Ben rang the doorbell, after Riley had driven the van a few blocks away. The door opened, and a man with long graying brown hair and spectacles opened it.
"Dad, hi," Ben began. "I'd like you to meet Silence."
"Si… Silence? As in your sister!" Ben's father, and hers as well, asked.
"Yes." Her father's eyes widened.
"Silence? Is it really you? I haven't seen you since you were in diapers…" he said, holding her shoulders. She smiled.
"I'd like to get to know you." He hugged her to him, his voice cracking slightly.
"You look just like your mother…" Patrick said quietly. "Come in, please. Where's the party, Ben?"
"We're in trouble."
"She pregnant? He asked Ben, indicating Abigail with his chin.
"If she is, are you going to let your future grandchild stay out in the cold?"
"Come in, make yourselves comfortable. There's some pizza in there, I think it's still warm. Ben, this had better not be about the damn treasure."
"Dad, I need the Silence Dogood letters. And yes, it's about the treasure."
"Ben, I wasted twenty years of my life after the treasure. It's not real. The treasure is a myth."
"Dad, I found the Charlotte."
"The Charlotte? You mean she was a ship?"
"Yah. She was beautiful."
"And the treasure?"
"No, but I found another clue."
"And that led you to another one, and another one. I've found out the truth, Ben. The treasure is a myth. It was invented to keep the British occupied with searching for buried treasure and not the Continentals."
"I refuse to believe that."
"And did he drag you three in here as well?"
"He dragged Silence and I in. Literally," Abigail said.
"I volunteered," Riley put in.
"You can do what you want with your life. You're a grown person. I'm the family kook. I have a job, a home, life insurance. At least I had your mother. For however long I had her. At least I had you and now Silence. What do you have? Him?" Silence's father indicated Riley with his chin. Riley looked uncomfortable while stuffing his face with the leftover pizza.
Silence helped her father gather the dishes, to his protests. Then, he looked at her, with a warm look in his eyes.
"I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes."
"Just a few minutes?"
"I want to know my daughter."
The two of them talked for some time until her father said something about putting something in an oven, and Abigail and Ben cried out with mortification at that, so she could easily see that it was the Declaration. Then, he suggested heat, and presently she heard the sound of a blow-dryer and Abigail said that all that time, and no one knew what was on the back.
"The back of what?" her father asked. He lifted up the front, and gasped for air. "You stole the Declaration of Independence?" her father asked Ben with an air of finality and disbelief yet the complete calm of someone before they go berserk. "Go ahead and ruin your life. You're a grown person. What do I care?"
"Dad, we need the letters."
"I don't have them anymore. I donated them to the Franklin Institute."
"Aright, Riley we need to go. Get the duct tape."
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Five minutes later, Silence and her father were taped to chairs, side by side. When Patric told Ben that the letters had been donated, Ben and tied them up. In one hand, bound to the chair, Patrick held the remote control, and in the other a Styrofoam cup filled with soda. Silence was similarly outfitted.
The doorbell rang.
"Come in!" Patrick screamed. "FBI, right? You want to untie us?" The agents looked taken aback for a moment. Then, they used pocketknives to free them. Silence's dress was ruined as she removed the tape, and she changed into a loaned pair of slacks and shirt from her father. She came back down and found the FBI interrogating her father.
.. And stole my car."
"Damn. Do you have any clue as to where they are?" the agents asked Silence.
"No clue." She replied after seeing her father shake his head ever so slightly.
"I see. What about Mr. Poole and Dr. Chase?"
"I know them even less well than my brother, and we grew up apart from each other."
I see. Well than k you for your cooperation; we'll notify you with any breaks we have."
"Thank you."
Celebwen Telcontar: Well, here's the first chapter to my new fic.
Balrog: I see.