-----

Bulma was sitting in her petticoats, sweating in the humidity that had built in the small shed during the afternoon heat. At first she thought that it would be indecent to strip down to the thinnest of clothing, but as the heat continued to weigh on her and sap her strength, she pulled off the heavy velvet lined dress and grinned as a cooling breeze was able to get at her damp skin.

Working diligently for nearly two hours, the thick air finally stopped her entirely and she leaned against a far wall with her makeshift screwdriver and hammer dropped by her side. Elin came and blushed as she dropped off a pitcher of ice water and fruit slices. Bulma asked her to stay and sit with her, but Elin said she had work to do and left without making eye contact.

A light tap came to the door mere moments later, and Bulma pulled herself from her daze and croaked out a weak, "Come."

The door creaked open and Bulma watched as Lord Elrond slowly backed in, only recognizing him for the ornate headdress and long thick auburn locks. A flush of panic rushed through Bulma's system, but her movements were slow and sluggish from the humidity and she had just barely managed to get a hand curled into the heavy fabric of her dress before Elrond turned with a large covered platter. Bulma watched his face as though it were in digitally sharpened slow-motion.

Slate gray eyes widened as thin lips pulled into a small 'o', composure relaxing face muscles and a small flush of color, fingers twitched and rewrapped before the tray could waver, and those pale lips pulled into a tight frown as one shapely eyebrow crooked.

"I did not know you were not prepared for company." Elrond set the tray on the small table with a thump and turned. "I will send Elin for you in an hour's time to allow you ample time to prepare for supper."

Before Bulma could speak a word in reply, Elrond's robes were swishing across the threshold and the door clicked shut. Slumping back against the wall, Bulma let the garment drop from her grip and sighed heavily. She tried to forget about the lecture that was surly going to come later in the evening about proper attire for a lady and stood with a groan. She took a long draught from her glass and walked to the table and pulled the lid from the tray, inside lined neatly in a row were a set of hand carved tools; three Philips screwdrivers of different sizes, several flat-heads and a short-handled ball-pin hammer. The handles had been inlaid with onyx grips and Bulma breathed in awe as she turned each over in her palms. Not only were they the most beautiful tools she had seen, but they were also balanced and curved perfectly as though made for her palm.

She covered them again and looked down at the mess of cracked and sharpened stones she had been using and giggled. She would have to remember to thank Lord Elrond gratefully later on.

While Bulma surveyed her new tools, Elrond sat in the nearby gardens on a granite bench and mindlessly rolled a rosebud between his fingers. The woman was getting curious and curiouser in her actions, not that the difference in attitude bothered him, what did however was his growing affection for the blue-haired beauty that had fallen from another world. He smiled lightly as he heard a muffled peal of laughter and dusted his robes as he stood. His mission was accomplished for the day, and that happy laughter was all the reward he needed for getting on the nerves of every metal-smith in Rivendell. He shook his head and pushed a braid over his shoulder, it would have been all the better if he could have seen the look on the lady's face, but he wasn't one to snub what he was offered, and he took that giggle happily with him for the rest of the afternoon.

---

They were on the move again. The timothy grass and high weeds whipping across the thighs of the sprinters, but most of the nuances were ignored as duty took precedence over personal comfort. Gimli was puffing like a coal train, trailing the others by several yards, but never so far that he was outside of shouting distance. He grumbled to himself when breath would allow, and grinned happily at sporadic moments at the group that ran before him. The two saiyajins were together again, but now instead of the glances they tried not to let the other catch, they lingered in looks and smiled when the other would notice. Though it wasn't exactly Gimli's cup of tea, he would not begrudge the two warriors for their chosen mates. It was hard enough to find love in a calm and normal world, let alone one that was inches from splitting at the seams.

Heaving the axe higher onto his shoulder, Gimli grunted and continued, frowning down at the thickening weeds at his feet. When he looked up again, he could see Legolas silhouetted in the distance as he peered down a hilltop. Instinctively, Gimli then searched for Piccolo. The two had been nearly attached at the hip since the first days of the journey, or at least as attached as an introverted alien and a fanatical warrior elf can be. But the Namek was running, away from the others again this day, though his spirits looked changed if not lifted. Gimli smiled as they drew closer to the elf, Legolas started pacing along again and he soon joined Piccolo in his silent run.

"There's more than just evil and smoke in the air." Gimli began to laugh but soon was out of breath and began to cough. He slowed a little as it passed and charged on ahead to gain the ground he had lost and mumbled something about his pipe.

Legolas ran quietly, his feet barely making noise through the grass, as he moved along side the Namek. The sky was a hazy red along the horizon and prevailing sense of worry began to eat along his insides. Piccolo, after several minutes slowly seemed to realize the distress in his friend's features.

"What is it?"

Legolas shook his head and mumbled something to himself. Snorting, Piccolo didn't press any further and faced forward again.

After a few moments, Legolas cleared his throat. "I..." Piccolo glanced over, waiting patiently and was surprised to see a light blush crawling up Legolas' cheeks. "I've dreamt of you the past two nights."

Piccolo nearly stumbled over his own feet. He cleared his own throat and tried to hide his growing embarrassment. "Have you?"

Before he could answer, Legolas attention was drawn to Aragorn who had stopped and was crouched low into the trodden earth. The whole procession slowed a moment, Gimli still puffing behind them, trying to catch up. "What is it?"

Aragorn grinned, a silver and green brooch in his palm. "The fallen leaves of Lorien. Our Hobbits are alive."

Legolas beamed and plucked the object from the ranger's hand. He began to run ahead again, turning and seeing the others with a refreshed look of hope. "Hurry Gimli, we're catching up!"

Any previous talk had been forgotten as the troop picked up their pace, open plains stretched before them. Smoke curled in the distance and the exhilaration of the impending battle was already making Vegeta and Piccolo on the verge of being giddy.

Legolas ran beside Aragorn at the front and Piccolo frowned despite himself, not even knowing he was bothered by it. At the crest of the next hill, Aragorn clutched Legolas by his tunic front and hauled him into a crop of rocks. A spike of anger struck Piccolo to the core and was so intense he felt the outer ridges of his vision blur into burgundy. Vegeta punched him in the arm, and hissed at him. Piccolo was beyond hearing, but Vegeta grabbed him by the cape and hauled him into the rocks as well.

The group sat, all of them, Legolas peering between two boulders through a fissure. Piccolo gnashed his teeth and Vegeta finally let him go, but not before soundly punching the Namek in the gut. Doubled over, Piccolo gasped for air and could taste blood on the back of his tongue. Vegeta was on his knees next to him and hissed into his ear, "What do you think you're doing? Stop drooling over the elf and pay attention!"

Piccolo would have growled if he had breath and instead settled on a vicious stare that only made the saiyajin prince grin. A steady tread of horses drew closer and in a thundering roar moved on by. Aragorn leapt from his position and yelled to them.

"Riders of the North! What news from Rohan?" The Fellowship moved from the rocks to stand beside their leader, Piccolo frowning at his own absentmindedness glared down at Vegeta with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

The group of riders slowly turned, their leader drawing near and stopping, a tight circle of horseflesh binding them all to one spot. "What business does three men, a dwarf, an elf..." The leader's eyes fell upon Piccolo and they narrowed as he drew his sword from its sheath. "And an orc have in Rohan?"

Growling Piccolo widened his stance and prepared to leap at the man and render him limb from limb, but Gimli stepped forward. "He is no orc, Horse master. And our business is our own."

The leader smirked, leaping down from his saddle. "I would slay you, dwarf, if your head stood but a foot higher from the ground."

There was a blur of motion to the left and an arrow was pointed in the middle of the leader's forehead, Legolas was frowning deeply down the shaft at the surprised leaders face. "You would die before your blade fell."

Swords, pikes and bows were drawn, and the circle of Fellowship drew tighter together, all prepared for the fight, save one. Aragorn drew breath and settled his hand on Legolas bow. "We are searching for our friends. They were taken by orc and we've trailed them here."

The leader nodded his head to his troops and the weapons were withdrawn. "We slew a pack of orc last evening."

"Did you see two Hobbits?" Gimli's anxious voice carried to them.

"They would be no more than children to your eyes." Aragorn explained.

The leader shook his head. "We saw none of the like. They are slain and we burned the bodies." The leader looked to his feet before meeting Aragorn's eyes. "...We left none alive."

Gimli dropped his head, Legolas rested a hand on the dwarfs shoulder and squeezed.

Piccolo's mind whirred. They were dead. Was this what the lady had meant by her cryptic messages? Piccolo growled, if he had left the other night as he wanted he could have saved them.

It took a moment for him to realize that the crowds of horsemen were drawing away and Legolas had leapt onto a horse, drawing Gimli up behind him. Aragorn horsed and facing the horizon. The three of the senshi still stood with feet on the ground. Aragorn looked down on them and frowned. "We all cannot ride at once. Will you be able to keep pace for a time? We can switch off when you grow weary."

Vegeta grinned and elbowed Goku in the ribs. "You just get those beasts to keep up." Goku beamed and the two took off toward a smoldering pit far in the distance. Aragorn watched them a moment with his mouth agape, the saiyajins were no longer holding back to keep with the pack.

Legolas looked after them and then turned to Piccolo. "That's incredible."

Snorting, Piccolo nodded. "Bunch of showoffs."

At first, Piccolo ran a little behind the horses as they went, but seeing Vegeta in his mind smirking at him and mocking him for being slow, he growled and took off in a blur of jade and violet.

The horses jerked with a start and Legolas caught Aragorn's gaze and smiled wide. There was something new to these creatures from another world that they were being shown everyday. And somewhere deep in his mind he knew that what he had seen was only the smallest fraction of it.

Goku and Vegeta were standing next to a pile of ash and burnt flesh, the smell was so staggering that Piccolo didn't know how they could stand there with their saiyajin noses. Covering his nose with a palm, Piccolo frowned at the massacre field covered in blood and limbs.

The riders arrived moments after and walked around the wreckage with solemn faces. Gimli gave a strangled cry and held a piece of charred leather in his hand. "One of their belts." He drew breath and held it, Legolas bending on knee began to speak quietly in elvish.

Piccolo took the belt from Gimli and glared down at it as though it was the cause of the Hobbits' deaths.

"Calm down, Namek." Piccolo looked down and saw Vegeta. The prince was gazing at the curling smoke that rose in the air. "If they are dead, it is how it is supposed to be. If we had not been brought here, do you think they would have survived?"

Frowning, Piccolo sat down next to Goku and gave him the remains of leather. Vegeta stood behind Goku. When the prince spoke, his voice was low and angry. "They shouldn't have been here in the first place."

"They are creatures from this world, they had every right to be here." Legolas stood from beside the mound of flesh and frowned.

Vegeta snorted, eyes ablaze with some new fire. "They were only as children, drug into something they thought was a game."

Tension rose as Legolas strode forward, standing directly in front of Vegeta. "You find our plight is a game, Master Saiyajin?"

"Fool. If you could see half of what I alone have faced you would not speak to me with such a mighty tone." Vegeta flexed his hands, the bones along his knuckles popping.

Gimli and Goku watched on in transfixed awe, waiting for the first punch to be thrown as Legolas bellied up to the shorter saiyajin and sneered down into his face. Piccolo stood up with a jolt and gripped Legolas' and Vegeta's capes in each hand, drawing them apart.

"Enough!" Piccolo looked between the two, Legolas had already backed down but still stood rigid and ready for any excuse to continue; Vegeta was still spitting venom. "Look, Vegeta. It seems stupid for them to be here when they are weak, but who are you to deny them their right to fight for their freedom."

From the corner of his eye, Piccolo saw Legolas smirk. Turning, he faced the fair elf and frowned deeply. "And you, you have no idea what powers we've faced and the hundreds of innocent lives they have taken." Piccolo released them both then and sighed when he saw Legolas turn away in anger and Vegeta cross his arms over his chest to stare into the distance.

Aragorn cleared his throat and called to them from across the field. He stood with his hands on his hips and was smiling lightly. "Enough harsh tongues, we have two Hobbits to catch."

Goku grinned and tugged at Vegeta, practically dragging the saiyajin prince behind him. Gimli was at their heels and beaming, ready to slew through the layers of trees and find his two lost friends. Piccolo paused when he noticed that Legolas was not moving.

"Fangorn Forest..." Legolas voice was a whisper and Piccolo took the time to actually look at the trees. They were thick and wide, covered in deep mosses so dark they looked nearly black. No smell of death came from them, but a hint of age, centuries old, left a cold shiver along his back.

Gimli too was staring into the trees as the two caught up. "What madness drove them in there?" Vegeta snorted and looked over his shoulder at the mounds of smoldering bodies. Gimli followed his line of sight and grunted, scratching at his thick beard.

"Come, we have to find them. These forests are dangerous." Aragorn stepped into the first line of trees and squinted into the prevailing darkness.

They filed in, cautious to every rustle of leaf or groan of trunk. Piccolo walked along side Aragorn, oddly feeling at ease beside the Ranger in these forests. Legolas' quiet voice was right in his ear, and Piccolo felt another shiver along his spine. This one not so cold.

"The trees are old...very old." Legolas spun slowly, gazing into the canopy that let in very little light. The trees creaked and he cocked his head to the side, listening as they whispered to each other. Piccolo tried to listen, but was shaken from his trance when a strong hand gripped his arm. "Danger is coming."

Aragorn whispered to them as they gathered around in a semi circle. "The white wizard...be prepared, don't let his sorcery work on you."

A blaring white light scorched the nearby trees; Vegeta and Goku hissed and shaded their eyes from the sting. Legolas let loose an arrow but it was easily deflected, Aragorn's blade began to glow crimson as it heated and he dropped with a sharp cry and made a fist, preparing for whatever came next.

Goku frowned and settled a hand on Piccolo's shoulder. "That ki...it's familiar." Vegeta tensed and nodded his head but before they could ask any questions the light faded, leaving burned imprints on pupils.

Gimli was the first to react and fell to his knees with a gasp. Legolas quickly following suit. Gandalf stood before them, robed in white so bright it seemed to radiate light. Aragorn was torn as he stepped forward. "It cannot be...Gandalf?"

The wizard blinked and moments later began to grin. "Yes...that is what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey."

"The Fellowship is broken, we are trailing Merry and Pippin...have you seen them?" Legolas voice bordered on pleading.

"The Hobbits..." Gandalf tugged at the end of his beard and nodded.

"They are fine. I have sent them on a mission." A collective tension seemed to lift from the shoulders off all those in front of him. Gandalf regarded them all separately, smiling lightly at each of them until his gaze came to the Namek that stood toward the back. The small smirk fell from his lips and the wizard shook his head to clear his mind to the job at hand.

"We have our own task ahead, and it will be no easy one. Come. We ride to Rohan." Gandalf held his arm wide and they all passed by him to the plains, smiling widely at their fortune. Gandalf nodded his head to them as they went, Piccolo at the back of the pack. Gandalf lowered his arm and blocked the alien's path. Piccolo eyed him suspiciously and Gandalf regarded him with the same curious looks. "Master Namek, there is much I must discuss with you later...alone."

Gandalf moved from the trees, Piccolo watched him go, forcing himself to keep from flying after the wizard and throttling him until he either told him what he wanted or died again. Piccolo was torn from his thoughts as Legolas waved at him from atop his dapple-grey mare. "Oy, Piccolo. Come, it is a day's hard ride to Edoras."

Piccolo nodded and stepped from the trees, scowling fiercely at everyone that moved by him. Gandalf strode in front of him, atop Shadowfax, and paused. "Tonight, at Edoras, meet me on the bluffs at the suns set."

Narrowing his eyes, Piccolo prepared to rend into the white wizard, but Gandalf rode off quickly, not even sparing a glance to the frustrated Namek.

---

Sarumon stood on the balcony high in the upper tower of Isengard. He grinned down on the growing number of troops like a sadist watches living flesh peeled from bone. With the masses growing, it would only be time—and very little at that—until everything was perfect. Sauron's flaming eye glared harshly into the wilderness, waiting patiently for the small group of would-be hero's to mess up. Worm-tongue had only recently reported that everything was faring well in Rohan, yet another stepping stone that had been reached and was yet to be destroyed. Sarumon's grin increased and he tugged at the tip of his beard. A bulb of light burst far in the distance nearly two leagues from the tower. Sarumon frowned, squinting out into the distance, trying to rightly place what could cause such a brunt of light in a place where darkness prevailed.

Before long, cries rang through the throngs of orcs. Small explosions shook the foundations of Isengard and Sarumon fumed, gripping his staff until his knuckles were white. "What madness dares defy Lord Sauron?"

Leaning over the balcony rail, Sarumon squinted again down into the masses of his men that cried in rage and some in terror. A ball of white was bouncing around them, moving so quickly it was a blurred streak of light. Rage ate up in his insides and Sarumon took a great breath, "Fools, you would let a stranger challenge Lord Sauron! Kill them, and bring me their head!"

A crackle of energy radiated from the ground as a pile of Urak-hai blew apart in raining entrails. Sarumon's mouth hung agape as he watched the strongest of his legions felled by one being. A light chuckle sounded from behind him, and Sarumon turned, staff held high and ready to strike. A creature stood there, clothed in silks, bejeweled in silver and sapphire. Thick green hair was pulled back in a low tail, and a small smirk of bow- shaped lips was set in a powder blue face.

"Greetings Lord Sarumon. If it would please you, my Lord asks your forgiveness in testing your troops." The beast cocked his head and gazed down into the fields where what was a white blur was standing still and slowly lifting from the ground. Gold eyes turned back to Sarumon. "Forgive me for being rude, my name is Zarbon." A small compact figure settled on the balcony rim, a thick white tail slashing the air behind. "And this is my Lord Freeza, we are here for your assistance."

---

Lord Elrond sat in his study, a frown of concentration on his face as he shuffled through several papers on his desk. Time was running short, and he needed to soon make up his mind. Either he sends the order for the elves to set sail, or they could stay and fight—and die. Taking a deep breath, the Elvin lord held it as he pinched the bridge of his nose. A tapping on his study door made him gladly release the papers.

"Come." Elhorir and Elladan entered, both looking a little flustered. Apprehension gripped Elrond's insides like a vice, it took something of great magnitude to bother his twin sons. "What is it?"

"Ada, there is a visitor who wishes to speak to you." Elhorir spoke calmly, his face set as stone. Elrond's eyes narrowed. "Who is it?" The failure of mischievous grins between his children was only adding to the dread.

Elladan cleared his throat. "I think it would be best answered if you meet with him. The Lady Bulma has already been called."

"The Lady? Why is she needed?" Elrond's eyes widened in surprise. Elladan and Elhorir exchanged a quick look. "Because it is her son that wishes to speak to you."