Bloodlines
Some Things Never Change

Through the mischief of two Hobbits Rick discovers his family line travels further back than he could have imagined.

~~~~~~~

"I don't hear anything." It was apparent in everyone's thoughts, but voiced only by Pippin. The Hobbit darted glances within the shadows cast by the light bleeding off his torch and the stone at the top of Gandalf's staff. To tell the truth Rick himself was a bit watchful of this quiet place. Ever since he had seen those two glaring green orbs of light within the dim, ever following and ever whispering, the ex-Legionnaire had felt fairly ill at ease. Gandalf had quickly assured them that what followed was not a Ringwraith and though dangerous, was not of immediate concern, but Rick had caught one of those stray mutterings of 'precioussss' and it wasn't anything he cared to hear ever again.

As he had it this Gollum creature wanted the Ring, would kill to get it and by all O'Connell's calculations should be dead at nearest convenience, but for some reason the old wizard wouldn't have it. When Frodo suggested it was a pity his uncle hadn't killed Gollum when he had the chance, Rick had been quick to flash his gun with a suggestive little look on his face, but Gandalf dismissed them both, saying this thing had a part to play for good or evil. Rick understood a command structure and recognized the old man as the leader of their little unit, so he didn't kill the creature as Frodo seemed to have wanted—as he himself wanted once he got a good look at that thing staring from the dark, but he did resolve to keep his eyes open and if the creature attacked, command structure or not, he was going to give it a good taste of led.

Knowing things like Gollum crept around the dark made this trip a little more precarious for all of them. It was dark and silent and smelled of the dust of the earth. Gimli inhaled deeply with a bothered but firm expression as he answered the Hobbit. "Aye, 'tis true we should be hearing the sounds of my kin by now, as close as we are to the great city. But there is still hope. Still hope…" He trailed off, gazing at the path ahead as if in search.

Rick shared a look with Gandalf, seeing the wizard didn't seem too hopeful. There had been a certain air about him ever since they had entered this place, as if he knew ill would come of it. And when they came upon a single, large archway his pensive expression increased. Only dark filtered from beyond that doorway. Their guide was the first to enter and as the light from his staff gave them more vision he announced their arrival.

It was cold, lonesome and oddly beautiful. Huge and monumental, this mountain dwelling had to have taken ages in the making. As they entered the main hall of the city Rick lifted his torch, looking up into the heights for the ceiling. Beyond them were many enormous support columns, each finely crafted with elegant care and O'Connell whistled his appreciation. The Dwarf fixed him the a proud grin, the closest he had come from his bout of fear instilled by the sight of many small bodies at the long-forgotten gate, and somewhere within the dim Rick heard Sam breathe, "Now there's an eye-opener, ain't no mistake." Eye-opener was an understatement. A sudden wonder assailed him, at what vast treasures would lay within a city so huge and so fine, and so close to a sizable deposit of the glittery mineral Gandalf had called mithril.

But there were no signs of life as they had been prepared for, no breath of life to this place, no gathering of Dwarves to greet them. The thought of wealth was immediately forgotten when Gimli's eyes strayed to a room nearby that was illuminated by a single beam cast upon what looked like an altar. Without words the Dwarf took off towards this room in a near panic, drawing all attention from the massive and haunting architecture. Rick sidled up to Gandalf's right and said, "What's going on?"

The wizard started for the doorway with a glance. "We shall soon see."

"Right," O'Connell exhaled. Looking to the Hobbits he shrugged, then followed. The sounds of Gimli's grief could be heard even before they hit the threshold and what seemed to be an unimposing room could now be clearly seen for what it was. Rick looked down at the 'altar' and decided grimly it looked much more like a sarcophagus. A very small one.

Gandalf gazed at the strange markings chiseled on the top of the great stone and read the words aloud. "Balin son of Fundin. Lord of Moria." At the vocal confirmation of what his eyes beheld Gimli let out a cry of anguish and Rick sighed uneasily. If this place had been attractive before it was even less so now. Obviously they had expected living Dwarves here, even if Gandalf had been wary of this place. Something had to have cleared the little craftsmen out of here. Something that could still be here.

Something that might have been following them all along, it occurred to him suddenly and Rick looked up at the great wizard. "Gollum?" he assumed and was surprised when Gandalf shook his head, handing Pippin his staff and hat, then bending to grab something from the hands of one of Gimli's people. Rick peered down and saw what the wizard was after—a dusty leather-bound book. It opened with a papery sound and as soon as Gandalf read the first few lines Rick turned away. He had read the diaries of his own missing or killed men back when he was in the Legion. He knew the words of men who thought they were living their final days. He knew nothing of Dwarves or their love of life beneath the mountain, but the thought of being trapped down here with death breathing down one's neck chilled Rick and made him want to be out of this place.

Absently listening, he stepped away from the group with Pippin as the wizard read the terrible words of how the Dwarves couldn't get out. The two retreated to a nearby well together and shared an uneasy gaze with a corpse seated in the edge. Held up by the stiff metal of its armor it remained upright as if the little person within were merely resting and the Hobbit breathed, "Would you look at that." A tiny spear met their attention and instantly both reached a finger tentatively towards the sharp edge.

They paused mid-air when Gandalf stopped reading and warned, "Mind what you touch! There still may be things living within the dark, no matter that we have not heard a sound of them."

Both hands retreated from the spear, but as Rick turned towards the group Pippin took a wrong step on a fallen shield and slipped. As the smaller being toppled over and into the ex-Legionnaire, O'Connell felt himself lose balance and when he tripped he instinctively reached for anything to break his fall. The well raced up to his chest, knocking the wind out of him. A crashing sound filled the air with startling volume. The Hobbit pulled himself up off Rick with a muttered apology that he barely registered, trying to get air into his chest as he shoved himself up from the well. As sanity came easing back into him he became aware that all eyes were fixed upon the well in expectation. The little suit of armor was now gone.

After a span of heartbeats a final crash jolted the small party and together Rick and Pippin leaned over the well to peer into the depths as silence settled once again. "Well," he breathed, rubbing his chest and giving the Hobbit a wry look. "Shit." Took blinked.

Another crack filled the air, a sound more present, less thunderous and a little more immediately bothersome. Rick and Pippin winced as Gandalf closed the book and fixed them with a glare. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words died on his lips before even the first was uttered. The pounding of their hearts seemed to be answered by a new pounding beneath their feet and a strange sound began to urge closer. It sounded almost like…voices. Rick raced his eyes to the wizard whose eyes confirmed the fear of something heading their way.

"Frodo!" Sam suddenly gasped, pointing towards the other Hobbit's belt. The Ringbearer wasted no time in pulling his little sword from its sheath to reveal a finely etched blade glowing an intensely soft blue.

The barely discernable voices became clearer and Rick swallowed when Gandalf said darkly, "Orcs." His blue eyes raced to the ex-Legionnaire. "The door! We must bar the door! Gimli, the axes!"

O'Connell pushed himself forward towards the door and gripped each side, closing them in a hurry as adrenaline pulsed through him. Outside in the main hall he had seen something, some body of dark warriors carrying torches, and they had looked anything but human. He could hear taps raining against the door as he leaned his back against the now closed off entrance. Gandalf raced towards him with a tall axe and Gimli close behind with another. "What the hell are we gonna do?" he asked, taking an offered weapon to hold the door.

The wizard's reply was quick and less than Rick might have felt comfortable hearing. "Hope."

The Dwarf left them to the door and growled, climbing into the sarcophagus of his fallen cousin with a confident, "Let them come! There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

The door jarred with a blow from the outside and O'Connell drew his guns, saying dubiously, "Let them come?"

Gandalf shared a glance with him, and then drew his own weapon. "They are coming, but we may yet prevail. This may be your finest hour, Rick O'Connell."

Somehow the fifty or so able-bodied warriors right outside that door didn't fill Rick with such a hope. "Oh, right," he breathed sardonically and the wizard's lips tilted into a smile. He shrugged off his building fear and used it to fuel his fire. "At least we'll go out fighting the good fight."

~~~~~~~

He was not quite sure why, but as he passed through the trees he felt himself becoming restless of spirit. The auburn-haired Lord of Gondor had been eyeing this place warily ever since they had entered the Golden Wood, but even he seemed effected by this place. The Hobbit was quiet for once as he gazed around them in awe. It was as if the very stars had taken up residence in this ethereal city. The Lady Arwen and her Elvish companions seemed to glow in peace and joy.

As they made their way up a long set of stairs Ardeth stretched forth his hand and brushed seeking fingers against the tree around which the staircase was wound, taking in the texture of the bark in wonder at something so rough in so fair a dwelling. As the tips of his fingers hit upon the surface there was a flash of feeling, something probing and uncertain. It caused him to draw his hand back and look around for the eyes upon him, for one so trained as he knew when someone was keeping a watch over him. But he found no evidence of it in the high trees. Beside him the Elf-princess seemed to smile in amusement. She stayed always near him, caring for him unlike he had ever experienced, but always in silence about what was happening. He did not doubt it any longer. Ardeth knew he was ill. She knew it as well and what was more, he thought perhaps she knew what it was that ailed him.

The high climb did not wear him out as much as he would have expected. Though Ardeth could not guess at the number of stairs they had traversed, he could see they were enough to tax him in his present condition. But this placed breathed of life and of ease and healing. It was in the atmosphere, such peace as he had never known and even this hard-weathered man of the desert found he was loathe to consider leaving. Yet despite the comfort here he could feel something else, something that warned him this place would be deadly to a foe. It was in the stance of the warrior-Elf leading them upwards, in the trees, in the greenery and in the very air. Beautiful this city was and soothing, but beneath the surface he could feel a current of power that was strong and clean and hard. This Caras Galadhon was a finely crafted blade, pleasing to the eye and deadly to those that tested its strength. It was tense and kept him from completely giving over to ease.

Somewhere she had looped her arm into his and he had accepted without notice until now. Soft, ivory fingers stroked his own and kind blue eyes tried to reassure him. "You will find rest here, Master Bay. Carry no discontent."

He inhaled the clean air deeply and swept the beauty over once more before looking back into her face. Even one so young in appearance as she seemed infused with ages of knowledge. "This place…" he began, but trailed off under her gentle gaze. This place breathed of a rest he had craved for so long.

"Do you enjoy this place?" she asked in her quiet voice and he nodded truthfully. A smile curved her full lips as she again set to petting his hand. "You have a good heart, warrior. Have no fear of this place. I am here with you." Her comfort fell well upon his burdened heart.

They came to the top of the stairs to a platform suspended far from the ground, a silvery floor with leaves finely etched into its surface and no railings. Near the edge the Med-Jai peered over into the depths. An Elven woman watched them curiously from a platform nearby with a child—a pretty little girl crowned with platinum hair and gazing through bright blue eyes, and Ardeth shuddered inwardly at the thought of someone falling to their death. Yet somehow he knew it had never and would never happen.

Ahead of them the warrior not unlike himself and yet so radically different led them to where they would meet the proprietors of this land. Haldir had met them at the beginning of the forest, greeted his Elven kind warmly and yet took in the strangers with an expression bordering on suspicion. The Elves of Lothlorien seldom get visitors of other races, the raven-haired Elf-maid had explained to him and Ardeth agreed the man's watchfulness befitted what he was. So like him, yet so different. Alien, graceful and ages older. These Elves troubled him with their grace and infinite knowledge, but it had given him comfort to recognize something he could identify with in them. The Marchwarden stopped at the foot of a set of stairs and addressed the woman beside him. "Lady Arwen, your acquired companions should remain here. I will take you and the others up to greet the Lord and Lady, if you wish."

The Elf-maid let go of Ardeth's hand. "Very well, Marchwarden. You have my thanks." Haldir nodded and began with the other Elves on up and Arwen turned back. "I will speak in your favor with my grandmother. Be at rest and in mere moments you will be called for." Then sweeping her skirts of silver into her hand, she too disappeared up the stairs.

"If I could have a place like this built in the Shire," Merry commented as he looked around, shaking a thoughtful finger. "I'd have to be richer than even Old Bilbo's rumored wealth."

Boromir nodded in awe as well, his eyes both mystified and troubled. "Aye, but I doubt even wealth could see a place like this put anywhere else put upon the face of Middle-earth. There is sorcery at work here."

There was no doubt of that even in Ardeth's mind, but despite Arwen's gentility he wondered how such power could keep from tempting even the fair Elves with possibilities of domination. They could easily take the world if they so desired, yet they remained quiet and secluded. He absently raked a hand across his throat and inhaled as he pondered. "Are you feeling well?" Boromir asked him, taking notice with concerned eyes. Ardeth nodded and pulled his hand away from himself.

"What type of people are we dealing with?" he asked, wanting to steer clear of the subject of his weakness.

The Gondorian opened his mouth to answer, but the voice was not his, but Haldir's. "You are dealing with a people you should be wary of," he said as he came down from the top slowly, but his eyes bore no threat. Merely confidence and perhaps a touch of arrogance. Perhaps they were not so immune to the lure of condescension as one would believe at first glance of the race. The Elf inclined his head and spread his hand, inviting them up. "The Lord and Lady will see you."

Boromir took the lead and Merry and Ardeth followed after, ascending the stairs promptly. Light and shadow increased on up as if a star had would be revealed on up. When they reached the top the Med-Jai inhaled and held it, looking on two forms sitting upon two finely crafted chairs, the woman's hand draped over the male's. They were beautiful, wise-seeming and disquieting to say the least. Beside her youthful grandmother Arwen stood waiting for them.

The elder woman demanded the attention of all, however, by the sheer strength of her presense. She was elegant and graceful as she stood up from her place, walking towards them with unknown purpose. Lady Galadriel swept her eyes over Boromir first and this hardened warrior that spoke of fighting deadly Orcs and evils seemed to shrink back. Bay knit his brow, determined to face this head on.

When her eyes came to his he saw stars in them. They were so bold for a woman and even for a man of his world, so wise and penetrating as if she could divine all of his secrets and foretell his future from one look. "The Fellowship has broken," she said in a soft voice, but softer still was the voice that resounded like thunder and gentle stream-water within his mind. Welcome, Ardeth Bay of the Med-Jai. The daughter of my daughter speaks most highly of you. Her eyes traveled down his face to his injury and back again almost sorrowfully, as if she were seeing his death in her thoughts. You will find healing. You are not here without purpose. The echoing promise behind that statement made his mind flit back to visions of his people and again he felt the grief of being away from them. Galadriel understood this, he could see. When her gaze left him for the Hobbit he felt relieved, but the eyes stayed with him, haunted him with the vast knowledge contained there. She was ordinary by no means. "The quest is perilously close to failing. And Gandalf, I fear, is lost."

This brought them all out of their momentary reverie and it was Boromir that spoke first. "Lost? How do you know this? What has happened?"

The male who had been seated came from his chair with grave, wise eyes. This was Celeborn, Arwen's grandfather, who she described as merry and kind. He could see also this man was bold and refined. "This we do not know, but I can sense him no more. All has gone wrong from the beginning of this quest and the outlook is grim."

Lord Celeborn's words were spoken gravely, his voice delivered with an edge. It carried the weight of the quest with it, to which his wife aptly supplied a mirror counterpart equally as grave, "But there is yet hope." Her eyes watched Boromir with concealed thoughts, then moved again to the Ardeth and the Hobbit. "Riders will be sent and we gathered here will watch and hope the remainder of your company find their way here, for such would have been their intent."

"But with Gandalf gone that leaves only a stranger, a Dwarf and three Hobbits, if even they survived what befell Gandalf," Boromir countered. "Can they find their way here? Can we trust…" He trailed off with a sidelong glance at Ardeth and the Med-Jai knew what he was getting at. Rick O'Connell.

So did Galadriel, who turned her gaze onto him with a question in her eyes. "Do you believe he would lead them astray?"

Ardeth knit his brow, searching himself as much as she seemed to. For all the importance of this matter he realized he knew O'Connell no better than he knew these people, perhaps even less. Should he know whether or not the American would betray the trust of these strangers? Maybe it was her constant, piercing gaze or some sort of mental suggestion or himself, but Ardeth's mind traveled back to Rick's eyes. A lot could be learned simply by looking through the windows to a man's soul. "No," he replied uncertainly, shaking his head. "I do not believe that he would." Though the American had trespassed into Hamunaptra despite his warning three years previous, Ardeth could not see betrayal as a part of his character.

She seemed satisfied with this and turned back to the Lord of Gondor with a more business-oriented tone. "The Dwarf will know how to get here. He will lead them here."

"And will you welcome him?"

Boromir had told mentioned the tensions between Dwarves and Elves and he had seen the evidence of it in Haldir's face when Gimli had been mentioned, but not in this woman's face. "What is required shall be done, Boromir of Gondor. Even he shall find rest here."

They would also find rest and the meeting had come to a close, it seemed. Lord Celeborn spread a hand a looked over the company with friendly eyes. "But you are weary as well, are you not? There is time yet to speak of these matters after you have been refreshed. Come and I will show you to rest and to dinner."

The Elf-Lord turned and Boromir and the Hobbit followed after with a parting glance at the remaining Lady and her grandchild. Ardeth made to do the same, but found himself immobile when a light hand touched his sleeve ever so gently. He turned into care and wisdom within blue eyes and found himself holding his breath. Should she call herself an angel Ardeth would doubt it not, so powerful was the smallest of her glances. "Arwen tells me you are wounded," she stated and the Med-Jai nodded, feeling the pain with his reminder. He felt like a child in the presense of this stranger. But you are a child, she told him with a kind smile as she stretched her hand towards him and laid it over this sliced flesh. "Ardeth, tolo ar lasto nastrad beth nîn."1

The words she spoke as she urged him away from the path the others had taken were alien, but effective. It felt suddenly as if some unknown force had just loosened its grip on him, but the dark tendrils that had crept around his heart were still present. His body felt suddenly charged and shaking past the sudden cloud over his mind, he stopped following so blindly. He knew not if he cared to be separate from the others in such a place as this. "What have you done? Where are you taking me?"

It was Arwen that replied from beside him, her hand brushing his arm and her eyes alight with a concern that compelled him to obey for now. "Have no fear. We take you to healing, Ardeth. All will be well. Please, trust in me."

"Many things you will see, warrior, that will trouble you further still," Galadriel spoke truthfully. "Many things will change how you perceive the world in which you live for your remaining years, be it here or whence you came. Take rest from good when it is offered."

The Med-Jai nodded then, the trouble inside still present, but his distrust dissipating beneath such care and honesty as he found within their eyes.

"All right."

~~~~~~~

Author: Ruse – jedinineofnine@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. Naseen and Salih are mine.
Feedback: Yes! By all means, my precioussss, lemme know how I'm doing!
Archive: Sure, just please let me know if you will, so I can stop by and see your site.

A/N: Again, sorry for the lateness of this installment. :-O I decided to go with the movie version of what happened in Moria. :-O

1. Ardeth, tolo ar lasto nastrad beth nîn. Approximately: Ardeth, come and listen to my healing words.

Reviewers:

Stormhawk – Thanks for checking this out! Glad you enjoyed the Hobbits…yes, who wouldn't want to invade Elrond's rooms? ;-) Well, I would anyway. :-D Anyway, glad you liked this. :-) Thanks again! I'll be checking in on your Matrix stories again shortly! Must have more! ;-)

Mommints – Hey, thanks for reading despite that jerk RL. ;-) Glad you're enjoying…as for what's wrong with Ardeth, well, uh…I'll get into that next Ardeth installment? :-D ;-) Like to keep people wondering. Anyway, look forward to more of your work!

Lula – Thanks! Well, I mean it's not that Abdul HATES Legolas or whatever…it's just, imagine your son disappearing and someone else being left in their place. Not that you'd hate them, but I dunno…I would think that person might make you feel uncomfy, especially if you aren't sure if that person wasn't responsible for your son disappearing. :-\ I mean I totally agree with you on Legolas's air of trustworthiness and all, but I dunno…Abdul doesn't know Leggy the way we do. Anyhow, thanks! :-D

Patty – hehehe…yeah, Aragorn's a real gentleman…I could see him doing that. *lesigh* ;-) Thanks! Glad you're enjoying!

JadeiteZ – Thanks again, glad you're enjoying. :-D I wanted to capture that Aragorn isn't like over over Arwen…you know? Hmm. Anyway, hope you enjoy and we'll be finding out what happened to Jonny and Leggy next chapter. :-)

Pheonix Tears – Hey! Hehe! Thanks a bunch! Glad you like…Legolas is extremely cute. ;-) I've thought of Evy/Legolas…might have taken the story this way too…just not sure. Hmm. Have to see what inspiration comes, whether I want her with Aragorn or Leggy or even Rick if he makes it home. :-D Thanks for that challenge? Mind if I add it to my website? I might take you up on that, given that I love to pile more work on myself. ;-) Thanks!

Marcher – Thanks…I'm glad you like what I've done with Aragorn…first time stepping into his POV so I was like, "Okay…let's not make him retarded." ;-) Glad you liked it, my friend. *lesigh* Love that Aragorn.

Karri – Lol…yeah, poor Legolas. ;-) But hey, he's got Jonathan! :-D Lol. Um…yeah…that won't get him into too much trouble…I hope. ;-) Thanks for reading!

Deana – Good question. ;-) :-D What DID happen to Leggy and Jonny? My guess? A swaggering pirate with a limp and his feisty parrot Ling-Ling waylaid them in the alley looking for crackers. ;-) :-D Thanks, my friend!