Celebwen Telcontar: Sorry! I shouldn't have left the lot of you hanging the way I did.
Balrog: (Yawns, grumbles, and rolls over in his bed of pegmatite and granite)
Celebwen Telcontar: Should I dump a bucket of rock flour over his head to wake him up?
Tarichar: (Stares boredly at Celebwen Telcontar, snorts slightly, and saunters off)
Celebwen Telcontar: Huh. Just like a cat. Anyways, this is not mine; neither are Galadriel, the Elven twins, Elrond, Glorfindel, Ben, Abigail, Riley, Derek,… You get the point. I own Silence, Patrick, Mariah, the animals, the Bardréd—
Balrog: I wanna eat the pony!
Celebwen Telcontar: (Stares at Balrog strangely) Uhhh… yah. I don't own him either. Tolkien does. Review people!
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The clangs and crashes announced that the party was coming up on either a true fight or a practice spar. Sulin snorted and balked, then went foreword after a person was flung into a tree.
"Hey! Elladan!" a voice cried in Sindarin. Silence's eyebrows went up.
"Elladan?" she asked her uncle, who shrugged. Tarichar meowed softly from the treetops, and then yowled as a knife streaked past the leaves, nearly clipping her whiskers. She hissed at the culprit.
"Elrohir, you need to stay light on your feet!" a more commanding male voice called.
"War is on its way; do not be dawdling!" The woman's voice was like water, cool and calming.
"I think we may have stumbled upon some faeries," Ben said softly. Tarichar hissed at him, apparently annoyed.
"Elves, Stonehead," Silence snapped, slapping him upside the head. The young man winced away from the blow, and then glared at his twin, who grinned back. Sulin snorted again, pawing the earth. "Easy, Windsong."
"Men, Men who speak the Elven tongues, are near," the woman's voice said.
"Galadriel…" Derek whispered in awe. The radiant Elven queen stepped into the forest, her face making Silence look like a horrendous monster comparatively. Tarichar leapt down and sat at her feet, looking up into her face. The most powerful Elf in the Third Age stared back down at the temperamental feline, and then reached down to gently pet Tarichar.
"She has a good name, Heir of Dúnedain." Galadriel's voice was powerful and beyond description. It felt like water was rushing down Silence's spine when she heard the powerful Elven queen speak.
"My Lady. I thank you," For lack of anything else to say, Silence bowed low.
"You need not bow to me, for soon you shall hold the title Queen of Men."
"Then whom shall my people look to as my King?"
"Look to your Steward."
"My Steward?"
"The last Heir of the Line of Anárion. Child, come with me." Galadriel walked off into a different area of the forest, and Silence followed, feeling as though she were in a waking dream. They halted in a clearing. "Silence, child of the Dúnedain, Heir to Elessar. You will hold the White Rod when the time comes. Men will look to you and your Steward as their monarchs. Are you aware of this, child?"
"I am, My Lady. I must ask, though, what of my twin?"
"The child of Men? He is not of the Dúnedain; his blood is as impure as that of the mule to the Mearas. He is well where he is, as an amusing child of Men. You have the Old Blood. Use it. I wish to give you a gift, this will be of great use to you. The Bardréd do not keep the only Far-Seer left in this world. The Far-Seer of the Tower of Ecthellion has been cleansed of Sauron's taint." Galadriel handed Silence a head-sized bundle that was a lot heavier than it looked. Wrapped in translucent white cloth, it seemed to give off an air of peace and power.
"Again, I thank you, My Lady."
"Keep the lands clean. The volcano will clean the world; restore the old Kingdoms, and keep the people as citizens of Arda. That is the only gratitude I will accept."
"It shall be done, My Lady."
"This is now yours, Princess." Galadriel took a brooch from within the folds of her dress and pinned the eagle-shaped clasp with a green stone to the Bardréd's cloak. "You shall make the Elves proud to be your ancestors." With that, Galadriel left the glen, and Silence followed in a stupor until Sulin nudged her.
"I… I have the blessings of the Elves," she whispered to her uncle and her horse. Her brother snorted in confusion.
"Why do you need the blessing of a group of faeries?"
"Elves, moron," Phil snapped.
"We need to get into the palace," Derek said. "What's that?" He motioned to the bundle Silence carried.
"A Palantir, I think."
"It's a little too small to be a planet, don't you think?" Ben asked. Silence slapped him upside the head from habit.
"I agree with Galadriel," Silence said to her uncle. "He is nothing more than an amusing child of Men."
"'Men' is right," Derek snorted. Mariah chuckled.
"Indeed. I have a nasty migraine from dealing with this idiot."
"Hey," a familiar voice called. Silence looked for the source, and saw Riley Poole, Ben's old friend, his hair longer than she remembered, and his right hand in his pocket.
"Riley!" Ben cried in welcome and happiness. Riley took out his hand to show Ben, and Silence saw that his hand had been severed off at the wrist. He had small stitches on his stump, and looked as though it had been surgically removed. Or sliced off quickly and healed by one of the Elven healers. "What happened!" Ben cried.
"I was caught by the Ring's seduction. I refused to throw the Ring into some volcano or other, and one of the Elf-twins over there cut my hand off in order to get the Ring into the volcano."
"You've matured quite a bit," Silence said quietly.
"I'm changing my profession. If being a servant of God feels like being near Her Royal Majesty, then I will change to being a Priest."
"Imagine, Riley Poole, idiot extraordinaire, being effected by the Lady Galadriel's charms," Mariah said in Sindarin. Derek had to smother a laugh.
"Gaaaa! Rhooooothhhsaaah!" a young voice cried. Abigail came careening over, holding her son high above her head.
"Abigail! Patrick!" Ben cried, running over to kiss his girlfriend and hold his son. One of the Elf-twins looked at the three of them, a conspiratorial look on his face.
"Elladan, don't even think about it," the older Elf called. Elladan deflated quickly. The blonde Elf-lord walked through the glen, contemplating life from his expression.
"Well-met, daughter of Elessar," he said, his hand on his chest as he bowed. He then walked up to Sulin, and began whispering to her, stroking her mane. Tarichar leapt onto Sulin's back and rubbed against the Elf-lord's hand, looking for attention. Silence was floored; this wasn't supposed to happen! But then again, Tarichar was a very good judge of character, save when she attacked Ben. For some reason, she seemed to think he was the ultimate incarnation of evil, and that spread to Riley and Abigail as well. Silence just hoped that Tarichar didn't take it all the way to Patrick; she couldn't deal with Ben trying to murder her cat because of a misunderstanding. "You have a lovely pair of friends, Silence daughter of the Nùmenorians." He scratched beneath Tarichar's chin, and the gold and black marbled cat purred loudly, closing her eyes in bliss. Ian stared at the Elf and cat.
"Doesn't she hate most people?"
"And she thinks you're her kitten," Derek said, glancing at Ian.
"She believes that the Heir of Faramir is her child?" the Elf-lord asked.
"She does. I even caught her feeding him once."
"She fed Ian?" Silence asked, struggling to keep herself from laughing. The Elf-lord looked at Derek with and unfathomable expression on his face.
"We need to create a council of what we will do when the volcano erupts," the dark-haired Elf-lord said.
"My Lord Elrond," the blonde Elf-lord said quietly. "This is no longer our world."
"Glorfindel, if the Gondorian monarchy is not reinstated here, it will create repercussions of the last kind we need. Besides, if the volcano does not erupt, it will not heal what Men have done to this Middle-Earth, and the pollution will come to Valinor, and we will have to deal with it as well." Glorfindel nodded, then looked at the returned travelers, smiled slightly, and beckoned. Silence was stunned for the second time that day: first she had been advised and accepted by Galadriel, the bearer of Nenya the Ring of Water, now she was in conversation with Elrond, the bearer of Vilya the Ring of Air, Glorfindel the Balrog-slayer, and the highly mischievous twins Elladan and Elrohir, who, judging by Riley's reaction, Elladan was the incarnation of annoyance.
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Laura, Queen of the Bardréd, sighed and signed her name on yet another document. The door opened.
"Your Highness," Sarah, her secretary, said. "The travelers have returned."
"Thank you for informing me, Sarah, and make an appointment for them to hold a meeting with me."
"We also have visitors. I would wish you to see them at once, as they are Galadriel, Elrond, Elrohir, Elladan and Glorfindel."
"Why did you make them wait so long to see me!" Laura cried in a near panic. She looked to her Palantir, and saw that though the instrument was dark, it was not specifically hiding something. It was just dark with the future: ash covering the land from the Yellowstone eruption.
"The re-initiation of your daughter into Bardréd society, the return of the travelers, and the warning of the eruption of the Yellowstone volcano, not to mention the fact that we are getting ready for the return of the Dúnedain to the thrones of Gondor, Rohan, Arnor, Eriador, Erebor, and similar Kingdoms throughout the world. Add that to wondering how to let the current world leaders know, and get it through their thick skulls, that a book they consider to be fictional is in fact a fully authorized account of the travels of an elderly Hobbit and the saving of this world by that selfsame Hobbit's cousin. The fact that there were living members of the oldest known race of sentient beings to still walk this Earth in our courtyard perhaps was set back against all of that."
"How about the most powerful person, discounting the Maia, in the Third Age, just shy of Sauron himself, and her son-in-law, who just so happens to be the second-most powerful being shy of Sauron in the Third Age, again discounting the Maia, grandsons, and the killer of one of the most infamous creatures ever created being in our courtyard?" Laura said in a dangerously calm voice, save the last four words, which were hissed in near-fury. Sarah by now had paled considerably, her eyes wide. "Show them in. And tell Rachel that she now is my personal secretary." Sarah hung her head, realizing that she had been fired. She then showed the five mighty Elves into the Royal Study.
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Legolas was ready to bang his head on the desk, if that would help. The Vice-President, now the President, of the United States of America was going to be doing massive tax cuts, taking the money needed to keep the infrastructure going from the art and music programs in the high schools, and also cutting funding from certain sciences, including geology, thus making it nearly impossible to get warnings for the Yellowstone eruption to the populous until it was far too late. And now FEMA was going to be disbanded because of low response time to the recent hurricane that smashed through Atlanta and demolished several old monuments left over from just after Sherman's slash-and-burn Civil War special. Mithrandir came up, his garments making Legolas smile. A black and white Mickey Mouse t-shirt and a pair of worn jeans along with a pair of dilapidated tennis shoes was definentally not what the Maiar was usually dressed in. "We need to get to the Bardréd, and soon. If we do not find shelter, we will not survive the eruption," Mithrandir said calmly. "Cloudsprinter is ready to go, he's groomed well, as is Arod the two-thousand and twelfth."
"Good, all of our possessions are packed up and ready to load," Legolas stated before looking up at his superior.
"We should leave within the day."
"I'll get the tickets," Legolas said, spinning in his chair to face the computer and go onto a travel agency for the cheapest tickets at the soonest time, which just happened to leave within the day. Add the two horses, even with the small amount of luggage that they took, and it was not a cheap bill.
"Money won't matter for long," Mithrandir said, grabbing a duffel bag as Legolas stuffed his credit card back into his wallet and wheeling out a suitcase, a duffel bag in his free hand. Even as a Maiar and an Elf, the Yellowstone eruption would not be a good thing to witness in North America.
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Celebwen Telcontar: The eruption grows closer… and closer… (Dramatic music plays)
Balrog: Yippee! (Rubs hands together in glee) I just love volcanic eruptions! Where's the "Jaws" music coming from?
Celebwen Telcontar: Uhhh… I really don't know. Anyways, that's my Balrog. He always has loved death and destruction.
Balrog:… You said that Glorfindel was there? In Bardréd lands!
Celebwen Telcontar: He is.
Balrog: That's it. I quit. I'm speaking to Jim Henson productions about a transfer to a Labyrinth set. Or maybe I'll transfer to being in the Fire Swamp in Princess Bride. (Hands in resignation)
Celebwen Telcontar: I—Balrog. You can't do this! I need you as my disclaimer partner! Balrog! BALROG! Please, come back! Oh no. I've driven my disclaimer partner off… Help. Glorfindel, you're fired!
Glorfindel: What? I'm not yours to begin with! You can't fire me!
Celebwen Telcontar: I give up. I'm getting a new disclaimer partner. Tarichar, do you want to file for the position? I'm accepting applications!
Tarichar: (Hisses and saunters off)
Celebwen Telcontar: Great. Just my luck. Glorfindel, you want to fill out an application?
Glorfindel: No, thank you.