Hey. Stay tuned, you'll see a pattern being drawn here. So Frances had travelled back through time. For those who have seen King Arthur (2004), this is where she lands for a while. It was a good movie, by the way, apart from the really horrible Guenievre. Yuck. I have started to write this story, it is called 'All Hail to the King' and is online now.

The tone rang twice before her cousin picked up.

- "Hey, Cess. I'm back"

A relieved sigh greeted her on the line. Now that Cécile knew of her whereabouts, Frances always called before going, and right after getting back which was usually in a span of ten minutes. This, at least, settled her mind whenever she disappeared from earth's surface. In case she didn't make it, Cécile would relay some letters to her parents.

- "So you didn't find him?"

Trust her cousin to go straight to the point. Frances swallowed, remembering the moment she had realised her mission did not take place in middle earth. She had been so engrossed in her rage, so rightfully despaired that she nearly threw herself from a cliff. She stayed for hours, prostrated under the falling snow, before voices shook her out of her catatonic state. Bracing herself, Frances had eventually shaken her snow coated elvish cloak, and joined the group of travelling knights. Only to loose one of them in the end. The image of Tristan, coated with blood as he smiled at her before uttering his last breath would haunt her for years. Just another trauma in a long list of traumas. Damn, what a life !

- "Nope. I landed in Scotland … in all the exotic places of the world, I had to land in Scotland in freaking winter!"

Frances' attempt at levity did not prevent her heart from churning painfully.

- "Damn, you must have been freezing your ass. So, meet interesting people?"

Frances snorted. No doubt that Cécile would have a hard time believing it. Hell, she had a hard time as well, even if she landed right in the middle of the commotion, her eyes seeing, her hands touching the legend!

- "Yeah. Quite. I think I met King Arthur, and Merlin, Lancelot, Gawain and all the knights of the round table."

A muffled cry came from the phone, a cry covering the absence she felt at not naming Tristan. Cécile was choking on her own saliva, caught in a coughing fit.

- "No … cough cough … way! You're pulling … cough… my leg, aren't you?"

- "Er… No. And honestly, it was the least the Valar could do to make up for the disappointment…"

- "Damn it! Damn it to hell, cousin! You've actually met King Arthur and … what was the time again? It's crazy, I wish I could have been there ‼!"

- "I met Merlin as well. He's the hell of a magician"

'And a former ascended being...' she added in her mind, 'but I can't tell you about it lest I breach the non disclosure agreement papers from the US government'. Cécile's excitement nearly tore her ear off, but her point was valid. How many historians, on earth, would have killed to be in her place? One archeologist, in particular, would have been in heaven. Frances gritted her teeth; she could not tell Daniel anything, he would know something was amiss since she could not quote her sources. Trust him to know every single historian that had worked on the subject, and the title of every publication written in the span of two hundred years. Frances sighed, it sucked to not be able to share it, especially about Merlin. It confirmed many of Daniel's theories. She'd have to find a way ton encourage him on this path without selling herself.

- "You're not the only one, I guess…"

- "What? Who? Oh … whatever. Just tell me about it, and write all of it afterwards. I want to know everything…"

Needless to say, that Cécile, being a linguist as well, showered her with questions about the place, the time, the implications of the Roman empire leaving Scotland behind Adrian's wall, and the beginning of Camelot. Her enthusiasm was communicative, and for a while, Frances nearly forgot that she had NOT travelled to Arda... and that she had failed to save Tristan, the silent scout. As she explained how she hataken a bolt for Lancelot in the great battle against the Saxons, the young woman came to a realisation. She had proved her worth to the Valar, showing them that she could, despite her current state, complete her missions. Showing them that she had chosen against her heart, to save Lancelot and let Tristan die albeit her feelings swayed the other way. The first Knigh was a mandatory character for the Arthurian time and legends. Surely that could count for something, right?

Getting back to school only fuelled her anger. No one remarked on her battered skin, nor the weight she had lost in the span of a day. Well, William might have mentioned it. Frances recalled with fondness how the nurse of her old boarding school had gravitated around her for a while after her return from middle earth, trying to feed her so that she could get better. Here, no one quite cared. This indifference added to the fact that she had spent a month travelling in medieval Scotland without any cars, technology, tap water or boring classes, was enough to make her snap. Getting back to a stuffed, overheated room made her crazy and she spent the weekend hiking in the Vosges to make the transition easier. A long-distance call to Daniel also helped a bit; hearing news of the SGC grounded her, especially since he always forgot to hold his tongue and told him everything she had missed in Cheyenne Mountain. It was lucky they had a secure line!

Still, she felt tired. Tired of playing this theatre game again, the student on earth game, the normal girl calling her parents on week-ends game. Tired of waking up in the morning to learn about material resistance, who cared about those stupid girders and their breaking point? After three nights, she did not even hear her alarm clock anymore. Frances woke up very late, and rushed to her classes, yawning all the time. Her thoughts started spinning out of control. Was she suffering from an unknown ailment? After months in Arda, submitted to malnutrition and a major blood loss altogether, why was her body failing from such a short mission ? She was, after all, sturdier that she looked. So why was she feeling so damn exhausted after only a month battling in Scotland?

The answer came the following night, when she opened her eyes to find a tiny grey alien in front of her, and found out she was encased in a glass vertical container. Her limbs wouldn't move, but no rope restrained her. It was as if her own body did not respond to her command. Frances tried not to panic, yet how badly she wanted to! The glass wall was so close that she felt she would faint. Breathing hard, she willed her mind to start functioning again to jam her claustrophobia. Eventually, her brain took over, and she studied the sickly-looking alien that stood over a control panel a few feet away; he resembled Thor, supreme commander of the Asgardian fleet. They had met briefly in the SGC. Relief washed over her; in theory, this race was one of earth's allies. Yet, her situation left to be desired, especially since, through the window, she could discern the shape of her planet waaaaaay below.

- "Who are you?" she asked.

The tiny alien blinked his huge dark eyes, and turned to her.

- "My name is Loki"

- "An Asgardian"

The alien cocked his head to the side in an unsettling gesture, and Frances breathed slowly to calm her frantic heartbeat.

- "That is correct."

He expressed no surprise about her knowledge, did he know who she was? If so, then why had he taken her without her consent ?

- "Would you mind giving me a little freedom? I really hate being enclosed in tiny spaces."

The Asgardian studied her for a moment, his gaze roaming over her form.

- "I am afraid I cannot until you answer my questions."

- "What kind of questions?"

- "Your cells are strange, yet you are human. You might be the solution to unlocking the secrets of immortality to save my own race,"

Frances nodded. She knew of the Asgard problematic: they transferred their consciousness from clone to clone and thus were literally immortal. Except that after many generations of cloning, their bodies started to degenerate. Thor had mentioned that they actively researched for a way to revert their degenerescence. The name Loki rang a bell though, and she was pretty sure that the alien had been banned from experimenting on humans. Frances frowed; this was the reason her danger bells were ringing so loud in her head. Maybe she could she this knowledge to negotiate her freedom? Frances glanced at her reflection in the glass tube, looking at her throat ; the necklace was absent. Probably on her nightstand as she removed it for the night. That meant that Loki would not be able to access it. Phew ! Now, if she played her cards well…

- "I might have some interesting circumstances.", she stated cooly.

- "The circumstances you speak of, could they renew your whole body anew without your DNA changing?"

- "Uh?"

- "Your cells are as new and healthier than those of a newborn, but your body is twenty years of age. How to you revert the fast degenerescence of your race?"

Great, one more time, her race was denigrated because of its humanity. One could never get enough of it, it seemed! Her anger was short lived, she needed to concentrate on this new information. Apparently, the trips reconstructed her anew each time she stepped through the portal, hence making her a newborn in the body of a twenty-year-old girl. Did it increase her lifespan by twenty years then? That would surely be a nice trick.

- "How long have you been studying me?"

- "Four days already, and I cannot find the reason why you are different."

Those words shook Frances, and she yelled, surprising the alien. After all her efforts to appear normal, she' be screwed if she disappeared. She'd have her parents, school and the police on her back. What would the American government say ? The NID probably would try to get a hold of her ! God, it was such a mess !

- "Four days! You can't be serious! I can't go missing like that, people will be looking for me!"

Loki leveled her with a pointed look, as if he assessed her stupidity.

- "Fear not. I have created a clone to go through your daily routine, a clone I shall destroy when I am done, it is already failing since I programmed it a bit short."

The strange voice, calm and collected, calmed Frances down. So, on earth, she had a clone going to school in her stead. That was … nearly cool.

- "And this clone, it has my consciousness as well?"

- "Yes. It knows whatever you know, and lives like you do. I have copied your mind into it. It just contains a fail-safe and will be destroyed in time."

Frances' jaw opened, and closed. Just like that, this alien had created another her, and would kill it in the blink of an eye. The thought was disturbing at best, and frightening at worst.

- "Does your cell regenerate when the spike of energy goes through you?"

Back to business then, she thought.

- "Is that how you found me?"

- "Yes. This energy signature is known to us, but we do not have dealings with this world."

The sibylline words could mean anything from "we do not get along with the Valar" to "they kicked our asses out of their planet". But overall, it meant one important thing: Loki had knowledge of Arda! It was the Valar's energy signature that brought the alien to her, surely it meant something! Frances' mind was running so fast; deep down, she recognised this as a gift. She has passed the test and saved Lancelot from being killed, transcandanting her grief and completing her mission to allow King Arthur to build his infamous court. Now came a response in a twisted way, she was sure of it! Somehow, there was an advantage to be taken off that situation. But how? Loki was watching her warily, or so she thought for his face was unexpressive. His posture though, she could read quite well.

- "Does Thor know that you are studying humans again?"

Silence greeted her, the alien struck speechless for a moment. Before the situation got out of hand, Frances hit him with a massive argument.

- "I might have something to suggest, a deal of sorts."

- "A deal? I do not understand this word."

- "I will not tell O'Neill to relate your unusual studies to the supreme commander, and I will let you take some samples of my blood willingly. I will also tell you why I do not seem to age."

- "And what would you require in exchange?"

Frances smirked. There was nothing Loki could use regarding her anti-ageing system. As long as he didn't know about the necklace, it was safe enough. And telling him she was favoured by some Gods he knew nothing about, and that she travelled through portals and was rebuilt would not interest him. What Loki wanted was a way to regenerate his body, not build one; the cloning was more advanced in this area of expertise. But for now, he didn't know that she was a dead-end. Frances smirked.

- "Oh, I might have a little idea!"

Frances turned around in her bed, or was it damp grass? After tossing back and forth most of the night, she couldn't make sense of the contradictory signals her nerves were sending her. One minute she was in bed, safely stuffed under the covers of her bedroom, the next she felt like fresh air was blowing on her face, tangling her messy strands of hair. Saying that those double sensations were confusing was the least to say. However, something in the back of her mind told her everything she needed to know. It was the weirdest ideas of all. Yet, she remembered this odd dream, and the strange sensation to stare into her own eyes.

As the young woman was slowly woken up by the bright sunshine, the solution popped up in her sleepy brain.

- "We are two…", she murmured, opening her eyes to the world.

And then the bed and sheets disappeared, and Frances plainly woke up. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up in the grass and kept them shut for a few more minutes. She was afraid that the sheer realisation that seemed so logical in her mind one instant earlier ran away with the intake of new information. Why could it seem so normal to think that there were two of her? Now that she was awake it didn't make sense, but in her dream it seemed perfectly consistent. She hated this, when the logic of her dreams escaped her within seconds after she woke up. Repeating the sentence again and again so as not to forget it, Frances finally opened her eyes and took up her surroundings. Beside her sat her travelling bag, filled to the brim, but she had no remembrance of packing anything. Someone else had given her that bag, and wished her farewell, someone looking suspiciously like … herself!

The waves of logical thinking started to creep inside her mind when she took notice of the smells that surrounded her. The gentle breeze called to her, heavy with the very unique scent of iodine. And then she heard the waves crashing on the nearby shore. She was sitting over a grassy hill, the greenish slope covered here and there with bushes, a few trees and some shiny flowers. In the background spread the endless sea, bright blue in the morning light, a few waves creating foamy ridges here and there. A graceful white ship sailed close to the coast, going swiftly over the deep blue waters. Her eyes wide open, the young woman realised that nowhere on earth existed a ship of this crafting style. The twisted lines, the graceful bow, the bright sails said everything there was to know about it. This was an elvish ship, and there was no doubt about it!

Her heart leapt into her chest, her throat constricting. She had made it! At last, she was back! Overjoyed, Frances jumped on her feet and took off in the direction of the cliff, her nightgown flowing around her legs. Her legs pumped as they ran to the ridge, her brain eventually processing the situation; the dream started to make sense. They were indeed two of them, and she was a clone of Frances sent back by herself to prevent Legolas from leaving middle earth too soon. Deep down she knew who stood within the white sails, it could have been only him. Frances continued running at full speed to the shore, barely missing from tumbling down in her haste. The ship was not too far from the coast, he must have left a mere hour ago! As she descended the slope, her eyes noticed two familiar silhouettes.

A tall man and a stout dwarf were contemplating the view from the edge of the cliff. The man's right hand rested on the dwarf's shoulder, and his posture betrayed him. There stood Aragorn, King of men, probably watching his friend's departure to the undying lands. Even in grief the ranger had always shown kingly manners, and today was no exception. Still running down at a dreadful speed, Frances cried out for them.

- "Hey!"

Surprised, the man and his companion turned around in a smooth movement. Gimli's eyes grew wide with astonishment, and Aragorn stumbled in shock. A young redhead was running down the hill, her hair flowing behind her and playing with the wind, her cheeks rosy from the effort. There was only one woman that could actually sprint like a hell goddess in such a treacherous land, and it seemed like the Valar had given her back to them.

- Frances! Finally! exclaimed Gimli, his mouth agape.

She smiled tentatively, before missing a step and making a face to the rock that nearly sent her flying. Aragorn's face showed disbelief at first, and then it lightened up so brightly that she could not help but grin like a fool. His pleasure at seeing her soothed his bleeding heart, and without thinking he took off and ran like a kid to reach for her. The two friends clashed into each other in a very un-kingly manner, and the ranger gathered the young woman in his arms, stopping her before she went tumbling downhill. As he laughed and kissed her forehead, she panted against him and smiled brightly.

- "It is good to see you again, Aragorn."

- "I have no words to express it."

They descended the hill, arm in arm, to greet Gimli. And then it hit him. The ranger's face fell down at the sight of the white ship making sails to the undying lands. No man's ship could ever catch up with the elvish one… She was too late. Three years, three long years he had witnessed the fading of his friend, only for her to reappear at this very moment! Legolas was gone, and he never would he know that Frances had found her way back to him.

After embracing the chattering dwarf into a friendly hug, Frances turned back to the King only to find his broken expression. As brown eyes met with the grey ones King Elessar, silence descended on the three friends.

- "It's him, isn't it?"

Gimli's head fell, his gaze strained to the ground. Beside him, Aragorn swallowed before answering gently.

- "Yes. Legolas has sailed."

Frances' words were so silent that he nearly missed them.

- "Then so it ends."

Tada ? Hate me yet ? Please don't, you have no idea what's coming. Or maybe you have. Don't hesitate to review though, you know how it keeps me going.