Bloodlines
Chased

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

~~~~~~~

The city was in disarray.  Side stands closed their business so their caretakers could take cover, people ducked into buildings and some even stood in the open, watching the storm as it passed through Cairo.  Little did they know or understand what it was that wreaked havoc upon the unsuspecting city.  Tucked within an alleyway, out of sight if not out of mind, were Aragorn and Evelyn, taking a moment to rest as the storm headed into another direction.

The Ranger watched her keenly, his blue eyes alight in concern for her well being.  He had never thought there would come a day he would wish for the Orcs he had come against.  They were rough, evil and brutish; a truly terrible form of life.  Yet those he knew how to counter.  True, Mordor was filled with more than just Orcs.  He was certain there were horrors in there that had not yet been unleashed upon Middle-earth.  But those things that were filled of the Dark Lord power did not venture forth from their places often.  They hid away in wait, or when something so terrible as what now chased him did come from the blackness, it was countered by the power of the Elves.

He would not be troubled to die for this lady, he knew.  He accepted the place she occupied in his heart with fear that it would become more, but not with resent or rejection.  He knew not if he could stop this evil priest, but he would surely try.  It seemed so easy to forget the Ring now.  So terribly easy.  The eyes of Aragorn traveled the form of Evelyn softly and guilt flooded through him.  Oh, how simple it would be, if this Imhotep could be beaten.  Here there was a woman who had not the terrible price to give for his love.  Here there was no destiny, no Sauron, no temptation to take what Isildur had tried to take.  It could all be a memory upon the winds if he could but let go.

He looked down upon the alien sands beneath his feet, tracing his boot through it gently as his mind wandered what he had seen in this strange world.  It may come to that.  Yet part of him, he knew, would never let go of home.  Of her.

In his stray thinking Aragorn did not notice the eyes upon him, studying him as softly as he had her a moment ago.  When he looked up Evelyn blushed and turned her eyes away from him, flustered that she had been caught.  "I'm sorry you're trapped here," she said and he moved to stand beside her.

"I am sorry for the things I leave behind at home, but…"  He stopped and looked down, waiting for her to meet his gaze for unknown reasons.  He did not want to give in to this.  It was not fair to her, when his heart still lingered with Arwen.  Yet he there were some things in this world and his last that he could not fight.  "There are things here that I am not sorry for.  I am grateful to know you."

Perhaps he should not have said it.  Evelyn's eyes stared into his, measuring and lovely, her lips caught open between speech and silence.  Her breath caught in her chest as she prepared herself to respond and he felt a little more of his fading memories of home get lost in the depths of this new life standing before him.

But her words never came.  The wind picked up and both forgot the moment, turning instead towards the street.  Sand whipped upon the roads and out of instinct Aragorn took her hand, knowing that any second may call for them to flee.  He liked not this sudden turn of the weather, for in this world it could portend many things.  "Come, we will leave this place," he said, drawing her back, but watching.

The wind seemed to center then upon one place and even before the form appeared Aragorn had Evelyn running.  He dared not to look back and urged her through rapid footfalls to the same, for not a moment could be spared.  There seemed to be fell laughter upon the air, following their steps closely with ill intent.  In despair, the Ranger pulled her out of the alley and into the streets, seeing no other course but to run.

Daring glances over his shoulder Aragorn saw that the evil priest followed them on foot now, his black robes swirling with a gust of sand whipping through the folds of fabric.  He seemed now more like a man and less the horror he had been at Hamunaptra, and yet there was something more terrible about the black depths of his eyes.  The corner of his lips curled into a dark smile as he chased with deadly purpose.  "Perhaps it would be best if we were to find this museum of yours, my lady."

She nodded and stopped momentarily to think, then pushed him off towards the left.  "Is it safe to assume he's one of the things you're sorry for being trapped with?" she asked wryly as they ran.

Aragorn only smiled quietly, giving her hand a squeeze.

The momentary mirth was shot down by an angered yell.  His voice was now more human, deep and resonant as the dread priest Imhotep snapped, "Nefertiri!" upon the winds.  A string of words Aragorn did not recognize came from the sorcerer at their heels.

"What did he say?" the Ranger asked, following her lead down another dust-blown street.  A man could be seen at a little distance, watching them with a puzzled expression.  The clothing he wore appeared a little less casual than what seemed typical for this town.  Aragorn wondered if he were a guard.

Evelyn yanked him off the street as one of the great metal vehicles headed straight for them.  Imhotep, however, did not appear to care.  Aragorn risked watching, saw the car stop and the evil priest's grin.  A great yell came from his terrible voice and without turning around the car jolted into reverse, following at their side as they ran to escape.  "What the hell is going on?" the dark man in uniform demanded of them, running up as they neared, expecting them to stop.

"Now's not the time!  Sorry!" Evelyn countered, pulling Aragorn directly past him.  A flustered growl and then a sudden gasp sounded behind them.  Aragorn hoped fervently for his sake the man was running now.

They darted down another pass and lifting her arm, Evy pointed.  "Straight that way and another left, then straight again.  This would be a whole lot easier if he weren't chasing us."

"Aye," Aragorn agreed, thinking that women of his home were not as often hunters as the men.  There was a strength about this woman, but he feared she would tire before they reached their destination.  Let alone the fact that their destination may or may not provide any rest from this monster.  Yet he resigned himself not to consider that possibility yet.  There was yet hope.  There had to be.

But hope did not wish to make itself known to them just now.  Above the sky darkened quickly and the laughter of Imhotep chased after them like a plague.  The air around them seemed charged and wroth with a dry heat that stung the skin, offering no comfort from the breeze that Imhotep's power caused.  And then they were forced to stop dead in the middle of the street upon which they traveled.

Aragorn and Legolas had been speaking, both coming to the supposition that this was indeed their home.  The constellations matched; Earendil rode high upon the night sky.  And if that were the case, he would guess only the remnants of Mordor could bring fire from the skies.  It came down before them in a great blaze, this ball of burning rock, and could have killed them both if they had been closer.  Aragorn grabbed Evy instinctively and pulled her away, but Imhotep's dark laughter kept them from standing still for long.  "This way," she breathed, pulling him away from the fire that danced in the street.  They turned down an alley just nearby and ran without looking back.

"I assume this is not normal," he said, watching the weeping fire fall all around the city.

Evelyn shook her head with wide, dark eyes.  "Mercifully not.  I only hope it doesn't become so."

Aragorn gave her hand another squeeze and looked into her frightened gaze.  "If it can be prevented, we shall see that it does not."

It seemed to offer a small bit of reassurance and he found himself grateful for the softening of those eyes.  A moment seemed to pass between them before he pulled his gaze away from hers and continued the escape.

The streets were now bustling with running citizens, panic stricken by the fires crashing into their homes, markets and yards.  Chaos ruled in Cairo, giving the evil priest Imhotep an upper hand.  As Evelyn and Aragorn ran a fearful young man darted before them, and Evy slammed into him at nearly full speed.  They both toppled to the sands and the laughter behind told the Ranger there would be no time to flee him again.

Evy scrambled backwards, trying to get to her feet as Aragon turned.  "No!" she shouted as he drew forth his sword, held it before him and stood ready to fight.  "Aragorn, don't face him!"

The Ranger shook his head as the sorcerer approached with a haughty grin.  "Run, my lady," was his only reply, before Imhotep stretched forth his hands.

"No!" Evy persisted and he felt her delicate hands on his shoulders.  Her voice was full of despair and resolution.  "I can't.  I can't leave you now."

He had no time to reply.  The creature, having had his fill of watching them, snapped something in his dreadful language, then bore down upon Aragorn.  The Ranger thrust his sword full into Imhotep's chest without even a flicker of resistance.  The priest smiled at the weapon protruding from his flesh, then gripped Aragorn's wrist, shoving him aside.

Aragorn regained his footing and launched himself into his deadly foe as the creature pulled the sword out, looked it over and made ready to toss it.  Instead Anduril landed at Evelyn's feet as the two men fell to the sand together.  "Pick it up," Aragorn groaned as the priest hit him with a force greater than any Orc.  The Ranger momentarily saw stars before his vision as his enemy held his shirt firmly in his grasp, drawing back his other hand again.

Aragorn looked down into the dark eyes of Imhotep, seeing nothing but the evil intent there, the rage of centuries passed.  He heard nothing but the distant crackle of fires and screams of the innocents being tormented by the rain of fire.  Holes marred the fiend's cheeks, splitting as dead skin when the priest opened his mouth and spoke in hushed, deadly tones.  Aragorn wrapped his hands around Imhotep's wrist, but it did nothing to pry such an unbeatable grip loose.  With a growl the priest took his shoulder impatiently and shoved, throwing him aside as if he were nothing.

He expected more, but received nothing else.  As the Ranger struggled to regain his senses Evelyn cried out and something hit the ground with a great thud.  When he looked up Aragorn saw his sword lying in the sand.  She whom he was sworn to protect was gone and so was the priest.

~~~~~~~

He didn't know what had happened after the battle, where the creature had gone or who had made it out alive.  There was only weariness, pain, fear and the distinct feeling that being followed produced.  Legolas put a hand to his pained head and followed along side Jonathan, content to be led for now.  The creature had hit him as he had never been hit before, then let him fall to a road paved in tough material.  He ached, but his Elvish healing would see him at full capacity soon enough.

Another fireball crashed into a building behind them, but both had grown used to it enough to not pay attention in their trek towards the museum that the Med-Jai had spoken of.  They had run in the opposite direction of it and now had a trip to make, both men in pain.  Jonathan had it worse and yet in his state had aided the fallen Elf, for which Legolas was extremely grateful.  It was time he returned the favor, he knew, and at least kept watch for a small moment of rest.  "Jonathan, stop," he urged and the mortal did just that as they rounded a corner.

Legolas aided his friend to lean against a brick wall on the side of the road, then stood apart, rubbing his temples absently and willing away the pain.  "How's the head?" Jonathan asked breathlessly, wiggling a questioning finger at him.

The Elf inhaled deeply and looked around through half-lidded eyes.  "It betters quickly.  Time shall see it healed very soon."

There was annoyed glare aimed directly at him as Jonathan rubbed his side.  Legolas smiled, knowing no real malice was meant.  Aragorn had given him that self-same expression once or twice while hunting.  "The least you could do is lie," Jonathan shot, then groaned.  "I'm half-dead and you're on about your perfect health.  Somebody bloody shoot me."

"Does it ease your pain to act irritable when you are wounded?" the Elf asked with a grin.

Jonathan smirked up at him and replied, "As a matter of fact, it does."

Legolas laughed.  "Then by all means, continue, my friend.  I would not do you the disservice of requesting you stop."  The other waved a hand and exhaled while the Elf catalogued their surroundings.  "You know we are being followed, don't you?"

"Are we?" he heard Carnahan say before he straightened a little and nodded.  "I mean yes.  I knew."  They shared a grin.  "I don't suppose it's a beautiful girl with a ton of money and a taste for fun in the middle of a crisis."

The Elf shook his head and sighed, his eyes straying to the corner once in a while.  "Unfortunately, my wisdom does not tell me that is the case.  Though, I daresay by the looks I have been receiving, fetching you a girl would be little trouble."

The other looked slightly peevish as he pushed himself from the wall.  "Oh, be quiet, will you?  I'm having a rough enough day as it is."  He accepted the help Legolas offered and they began again.  "I can't imagine who would be following us.  I'm sure that Imhotep fellow would want to make quite the entrance of it, if it were him."

The Elf nodded.  "Aye.  One would think that."  He shook his head, inciting a momentary jolt of headache.  "Perhaps I am mistaken.  It is only a small feeling, not based upon evidence."

The small feeling persisted as they walked together through the distressed city.  The skies had stopped throwing fire now, but what had already hit the town burned steadily as mortals raced to stop the mayhem or raced away from it.  So much destruction had taken place in so little time.  A mother stood in the streets, two children hugging her legs with cries on their lips, all three watching a small building crackle and burn.  "My husband," she said softly, when two men rushed to her side.

Legolas looked away, feeling a profound sadness enter him.  Mortals had so little time and to see it robbed of them before their time was troublesome to him.  He simply was not around death like this.  Elves did not die of age or sickness, but when slain in battle went on to the Halls of Mandos.  He had been told when mortals passed on they traveled to the Hall of Kings where the Creator himself would greet them, but somehow it still saddened him to see them pass on.  It made him think on Aragorn and how there would be a final parting between friends one day.  When the end of the world came, he knew not if Elves and Men would be reunited, but who could say how many ages would pass before they gained that knowledge?  He did not understand this parting or the reasons for it.

"There.  We'll turn there," Jonathan announced, pointing ahead of them to a street corner.  They walked steadily on, each of them trying to blot out the noise of grief swallowing the city.  But try as he might, Legolas could not be rid of the nagging feeling they were being followed.  He risked a glance over his shoulder and saw no one following them, however, neither openly nor by stealth.  Elves were not easily dodged or fooled, especially so trained as he.  "Looking for our friend?"

Legolas frowned thoughtfully.  "I thought perhaps to catch our 'friend' following us, but when I turned my head I saw no one.  It troubles me."

His friend smiled at that.  "Come now, my good lad.  We all make mistakes."

"I am not mistaken," the Prince of Mirkwood replied certainly.  Carnahan raised an eyebrow and waited.  With a smile of his own, the Elf shrugged.  "Believe as you like, but when the priest comes from behind and takes you, let you then remember that an Elf is seldom wrong."

"Seldom?"

"I am not mistaken.  We are being followed."

Jonathan laughed and looked ahead of them.  Med-Jai could be seen at the door of a building in the near distance and Legolas assumed that to be their destination even as the mortal at his side confirmed his thoughts.  "There's the museum up there.  Looks like Bay's little henchmen arrived safely enough."

"Let us hope the others did as well," Legolas commented, scouting the area ahead and to the sides of them.  There seemed no sign of Aragorn or Evelyn, or of Bay and the other American.

"Carnahan, Legolas," greeted Salih as they approached the museum.  His expression showed relief at their coming, yet underlying troubled thoughts below the surface.  "Where is my uncle and the others?"

They stopped before the Med-Jai and Jonathan spoke, throwing his thumb back in the direction from which they had come.  "He had us split up.  Figured the priest wouldn't chase all of us that way.  I take it we're the first to arrive?"

The Med-Jai nodded.  "So it is you and the…the Elf, then?"  The Med-Jai still did not believe him to be as he said he was, which did not trouble the Elf in a world where his people were fairy stories.  Yet one question troubled him.  He knew if this were a world set millennia after his own, where the Elves would have gone.  But what of Dwarves and Hobbits?  The thought of Men eradicating them gave Legolas a chill.  Surely there was another explanation.

"Well," Jonathan was saying, "See the thing of it is Daniels had been sent with us.  We had a run-in with old Imhotep out there."

Understanding dawned upon Salih's face, turning a hopeful expression grim.  "And he is dead."

Carnahan nodded.  "Unfortunately, yes.  Legolas and I would have been dead too had it not been for this little kitten I found.  I had him shut up in my jacket and right about the time Imhotep went to kill me, the little bugger started clawing my stomach.  When I opened my coat the cat came out and Imhotep took one look, then ran off like a bat out of Hell.  What do you make of that?"

The young Med-Jai shook his head, his brow knit and a look of disbelief glittering within his eyes.  "That is a strange story you tell," he probed dubiously.

Jonathan cocked his head, unamused and said, "Look, I might have said the same thing about your little story about a 3,000-year-old mummy, but I…"  He stopped his talking suddenly and jumped up with a cry, putting the Med-Jai on guard.

Legolas whipped around, drawing his swords, but saw nothing.  "What is it, Jonathan?" he asked, searching the street.

Carnahan, his hand to his chest, turned around and looked downward.  "I say.  I like that, you little hairball.  Scared me to death."

The Elf followed Jonathan's gaze downward and saw not a beast, an Orc or a mummy, but a gray kitten with large, golden eyes.  It pawed at Jonathan's leg again and mewled, looking up in expectation.  With a shake of his head, Carnahan picked it up and scratched it behind the ears.  "This must have been our little tag along," he said, holding it up for the Elf to inspect.

Legolas pet the little animal and smiled.  "I was not mistaken," he said triumphantly.

The mortal rolled his eyes and smirked.  "Yeah, but you didn't see it following.  If you're so perfect you should have seen it after us.  It's only a cat, after all."

The Elf drew his shoulders up a little proudly and looked only at the little ball of fur in Jonathan's arms.  "Cats are known for their agility and stealth."

"So Elves can't track kittens?"

"Jonathan, be quiet, will you?"

~~~~~~~

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:  SO sorry this has been forever, but half of the time this took was sickness and the half before that was pure laziness and the half after that was writing another chapter to another story. ;-)

Reviewers:

Peoplllllle...  I need to know if I should continue this into Two Towers or cut it off at FOTR…no one answered last time I asked.  *SNIFF*  Oh the humanity!  Maybe I'll just kill Ardeth and Rick right here in Middle-Earth and have Legolas marry the kitten!  ;-)  Sceery.

Jedi Buttercup – Nope, haven't given up!  My friend would prolly hunt me down and kick my butt from here to Mordor if I did. :-D  Ardeth and the others went through the High Pass, which is just east of Rivendell in the Misty Mountains.  They didn't go this way in the book because they A.  weren't planning directly on going to Lothlorien that I'm aware of and B. they were worried that the spies of Sauron would see them.  I figured since this time they were legitimately going to Lorien, they might risk the eyes of Sauron's henchmen rather than travel all the way down to the Gap of Rohan and back up. :-D  Thanks…glad you liked it!

Mommints – Hehe…thankie, my friend.  ;-)  Glad you enjoyed.  Yes, I wouldn't be me if I didn't give Ardeth a fatal wound. ;-)  Muahahaha.

Elin1 – Hehehe…uhoh…don't get in trouble at work!  Thanks for thinking that little Rick scene with Gandalf hitting him was funny. :-D  Hope you're gonna continue to read!

Angelguide – Actually, everything I've read about Viggo leads me to believe he's probably one of the nicest, most humble actors out there.  :-)  Thanks for the review, glad you're enjoying. :-)

Marcher – Thankie, thankie!  I thought I'd keep everyone wondering what was up with Ardeth. ;-)  Glad you liked it.  They haven't gotten my application to soothe the boys yet, but I'm still hoping. ;-)  Thanks, my friend!

Kaidog1 – Thanks! :-D

Patty – Hehehe…sorry about the emotional changes. ;-)  Just gotta do that sometimes. :-D  Thank you very much for the review!

Karri – Thankie!  Glad you're enjoying, as my little expert on both worlds. :-)  Please update Bitterness of Mortality soon!! ;-)  Dying for more!  Thanks again!

Asylum – I plan on addressing why Imhotep calls her Nefertiri…the history between she and Imhotep is still canon, as far as her being a princess so long ago…which I'll also address I believe in another little side plot with Aragorn, perhaps.  Not sure.  But anyway, now that she's with Imhotep there will be a little more understanding between them of who he is and who she is to him.  :-)  Yes, there was a human named Haldir in Middle-earth history and if memory serves an Elf named Denethor.  I wonder if that was an oversight on Tolkien's part.  Hmm.  Anyway, thanks a bunch!

Deana - So sorry it's been so long, but thanks for pushing me into more!  Hehehe. ;-)  Glad you're enjoying this!  Nice to see you inducted into LOTR fandom.  Muahahaha.  Pretty soon me and Karri will have you writing LOTR. ;-)  Ah, one could wish, anyway. ;-)  Anyway, thanks for always being on my tail to get this done!  It's a help!