Chapter 08: Rivendell, Finally

Kurt's dreams were hazy, filled with pictures of their journeys, from their near escape in Farmer Brisco's fields to Perry Saturn and his rather unusual wife to being chased by Black Riders. He also saw a weird new Elven face speaking to him in low tones. He groaned. "Where am I?"

"In the house of Vince McMahon, and it's ten o'clock in the morning. You've overslept," a familiar voice said.

Kurt's eyes fluttered open. "Foley!" he exclaimed.

Foley sat beside him smoking his pipe. "Well, good morning, Kurt."

Kurt was thrilled to see him, but then his face darkened into a frown. "Wait a minute, you stood us up at the Prancing Pony," he said. "We had to go with Hunter instead. What happened to you?"

"Something not too pleasant," Foley answered vaguely. "I'll tell you about some other time. But for now I'm glad that you are safe."

Kurt nodded. He rubbed his left shoulder. "I thought I was a goner."

Foley decided not to tell Kurt that Rock had stuck around on different times, actually waiting for him to bite the dust. "You should thank Lord Vince for that," he said instead.

At that moment someone else came up. Kurt recognized the Elven stranger with a stern face and salt and pepper hair (most unusual for an Elf, really) from his dreams. "Hey, I saw you in my head," he said.

Vince McMahon nodded. "I healed you with the help of some of my assistants. It wasn't a walk in the park, but we managed to get to you in time." In other words he barked off orders while Elves scurried around following him.

"Hey, thanks," Kurt said, giving an inappropriate goofy grin. He looked around. "Where are Rock and Edge and Christian?"

"Probably out bugging the Elves," Foley said nonchalantly. "It seems like it's the first time any of them have ever seen so many in one place."

Kurt moved his shoulder and slowly sat up. "Hey, the pain's nearly- OWW!" he yelped, falling back down again.

"Stay put!" Vince said in exasperation. "You were at the brink of death just twenty-four hours ago. You can't expect to be moving around like normal this soon. Don't undo what we did!"

"Sorry," Kurt apologized.

Soon after both Foley and Vince McMahon left him to get some more rest. Kurt stayed in bed for a while, but presently he got bored and dragged himself out of it, taking care not to aggravate his shoulder. His entire left side felt heavy, but better than the deadened feeling of before. He walked to the balcony and looked out. So this was Rivendell. It was picturesquely perfect, with fountains, overhangs and lush wildlife, not to mention all the fair Elven folk. "I could get used to this," Kurt said to himself, forgetting he didn't exactly blend in well with the surroundings.

A few minutes later Kurt ventured to go outside. There he ran into Edge and Christian a short way from his room. "Edge, Christian!" he called out.

The two blonde brothers turned from where they had been eyeing an Elven chick on a veranda. They grinned. "Kurt!" they said at the same time, then rushed over to greet him.

"OOWW!" Kurt moaned when they squeezed him too roughly. "Ease up, guys, I'm not fully healed!"

"Then why in the blue hell are you out of bed?" a sharp voice demanded.

"Rocky!" Kurt said happily, running over to his fellow Hobbit.

Rock stopped him by simply holding up his hand in his face. "If you attempt to hug the Rock, the Rock will be forced to hurt you," he said.

"You haven't changed!" Kurt said joyfully.

"You were only asleep for two nights and a day, jabroni," the Rock snapped. "It wasn't like you were in a fucking eight-month long coma. Of course the Rock hasn't changed! Why would the Rock go and do that?"

Kurt didn't reply, as that moment another person appeared, giving him greater joy than to have the Rock openly insult him in public again. "JR!"

JR jumped a mile off his bench and clutched his chest. He no longer looked like the seventy-one Foley had first mistook him for back in Hobbiton at the start of this story. Now he looked all of his elevty-one years, and obviously feeling it too. "For Chrissake's Kurt! I'm not a young Hobbit anymore! Don't you go scaring me like that!"

"Right, sorry, JR," Kurt said. He, Edge and Christian went over and peered intently at the older Hobbit. "Man, you really did grow older."

"Yeah, your hair is all white under that black hat you're still wearing," Edge said.

"You look totally ancient," Christian followed up.

"That's JR?" Rock asked flatly, coming up.

"Are you all quite finished?" JR said irritably. With that he took Kurt by the arm, intending to talk to him alone. When they had left the other three they sat down on a bench. "Well, Kurt, I'm glad you managed to get to Rivendell safely. As you can see I've been spending a lot of time here with the Elves."

"Yeah, you must feel pretty left out."

JR sighed and shook his head. "I've been writing my memoirs, so I've been pre-occupied," he said. "How is everybody back at the Shire?"

"The usual," Kurt said. "Nobody likes to disrupt their lifestyle over there."

"You've heard about the council that would be held tomorrow morning, right?"

Kurt blinked. "Council?" little did they know three other inquisitive Hobbits had hidden themselves in the bushes behind them and were listening to every word. "A council for what?" Kurt asked.

"What you brought along, what else?" JR said. "They've invited a lot of very important people from all the different free folk in Middle-earth. I want you to represent the Hobbits as best as you can."

"I'll make you proud, JR!"

JR just secretly hoped that he wouldn't screw anything up, and at best just remained seated quietly. "Go on and get something to eat along with the others," he said. He looked over the balcony. "Look, the other members of the council are arriving now."

Kurt peered over to look.

»»»

Down below them, different people had begun to arrive. The gates of Imladris were opened to Dwarves, Men and Elves from other nations. It was quite a sight. A lot of Vince's people were stationed around at the area to receive them, as well as prevent a fight.

An Elf with multi-colored hair rode his horse past the gates and dismounted with sloppy flourish, looking around. He was greeted by Matt Hardy. "Hey bro, what's up?" he said enthusiastically, slapping a low five with the dark-haired Elf.

"Jeff, what are you doing here?" Matt asked, perplexed. "I didn't think dad would send you as a messenger from Mirkwood."

Jeff shrugged. "Too much of an important business, he supposed. Besides, I wanted to see you! You rarely visit anymore, only every other century! Give your younger brother a hug!" he held out his arms.

"Jeff, I'm in a really high up position here," Matt hissed at him. "Don't embarrass me!"

"Oh, so now you think you're too important to give your brother a hug hello?" Jeff said sulkily. Then he brightened. "Loosen up, Matt!" he said, thumping his brother on the back, and then squished him in an uncomfortable bear hug. "I missed you so much!"

A snicker sounded behind them. "How touching" came a mocking voice.

Both Jeff and Matt looked at the newcomer. He wore fine garments with rich armor over them and had an excellently crafted sword. Unfortunately, this was overshadowed by the really weird, round shield he had strapped to his back.

"Who're you?" Jeff asked.

"Someone a lot higher than you, and that's all you need to know, jerky," the stranger said haughtily, smirking down at both of them from his horse.

Pete Gas came up to him holding a piece of paper. "May I have your name, please?" he asked.

"It's too good for you," the stranger instantly replied with a bad pun. "But if you must know then it's Jericho of the Walls of Gondor," he said.

Pete checked the list in his hand. "Jericho… Jericho…" he ultimately shook his head. "Nope, sorry, your name isn't here."

Jericho bristled. "What the hell do you mean my name isn't there? Hey!" he protested as Joey Abs and Rodney began to lead his horse back out the gate. "Wait a minute, get your hands off my horse, you couple of ass clowns! I demand to speak to Vince McMahon!"

"My father is busy," a new voice said, and another dark-haired Elf came up to them. "My name is Shane, his son. Is something wrong?"

"You're damn right something is wrong!" Jericho snapped. "These imbeciles refuse to let me in because they say my name isn't on the stupid list."

Shane took the list. "Jericho of the Walls, was it?" he scanned the list. "No, they're right, you're not in here," he said, holding up the piece of paper. "Sorry, but it's for protection matters, we can't let in anyone who wasn't invited."

"I am Jericho, the Undisputed Champion and the son of the steward of Gondor! I demand to be let in!" Jericho yelled. Matt and Jeff grinned at him and waved as the Mean Street Posse went about leading his horse out of the gate again.

"Let him in, Shane," said yet another voice. They all turned to see Hunter walk up to them. "He's been around, we should have him at the council."

Shane looked doubtfully at the man with the glaring red dye job, scowling from his horse. "I don't know, Hunter," he said. "I don't like the look of him."

"I know, the shield gives off a distasteful vibe, doesn't it?" Jeff said.

Hunter groaned. "Just let the guy in. I'll answer to it."

Shane sighed and motioned to the Mean Street Posse to bring Jericho back in. The man from Gondor dismounted and straightened his coat. "It's a good thing you realized your error, jerky," he growled at Shane, thoroughly ignoring Hunter and flashing dirty looks to the Hardy brothers. He strutted into the House of Vince, Jeff rolling his eyes and mimicking him behind his back.

"I don't like him," Matt said flatly.

Hunter shrugged indifferently. After that the rest of the Elves of Rivendell went about welcoming the other guests into Imladris.

»»»

Back upstairs in the study of Vince himself, Mick Foley and the lord of the house were having a rare, serious discussion about the Ring.

"The Ring cannot stay here, Mick Foley," Vince said gravely.

"Come on, I'm sure you Elves can hold it for a couple of millennia in the least," Foley pleaded. "Slap on some of your Elvish protection, spread a rumor about a hideous curse that dares to step inside that circle, whatever you can do."

Vince was losing his patience; Foley had been begging him for the past hour and still refused to give up. He turned sharply to him. "Do we look like some damn stronghold to you?" he snapped. "Read my lips, we CANNOT keep the Ring here! The Elves are not that strong!"

"And you're actually admitting that to me?"

"Don't be a wise-ass with me, Foley. A fifty-foot dragon spitting and farting fire would be safer than taking the one Ring into our custody."

"Can you ask the help of the other peoples then?" Foley asked stubbornly.

"The Dwarves are more concerned with burrowing in the mountains and looking for riches," Vince said with a shrug. "Personally I respect the riches part, but the rest is alien to me."

"Then it must be in Men that we put our trust in."

"Men?" Vince turned to look at him with a strangled laugh. "Have you completely lost it? I was there, remember? Three thousand years ago when Men lost their credibility!"

Cut to a flashback. It showed a fiery Mount Doom, with a dirt-streaked Vince standing on the edge, calling out to Bret Hart who was some paces behind him. "Come on, throw the fucking Ring in!" Vince yelled at him.

Bret looked to him, and then to Vince. "Why, so you can screw me out of it like what you did with the WWF title? I don't think so, Vince!" he said, and then he put it away in his pocket and walked from the mountain, leaving a flabbergasted Vince behind.

End flashback. Back in Rivendell Vince had his head bowed and was rubbing his brow. "He had that chance to destroy the Evil forever, and he forsake it."

Foley was quiet. Then he spoke again. "You do know that there is one who could make them all gather together as a united people again."

"You mean him?" Vince asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "He turned from that road long ago. He runs around as a Ranger, for crying out loud. We can't expect anything from him."

Foley's shoulders sagged. So much for that conversation.

»»»

Later that afternoon, somewhere in Vince's house, Hunter was seated and reading a book somewhere to the side of where there was a statue bearing the shattered pieces of Stu Hart's sword, the one that Bret had used to cut the Ring from the hand of Undertaker. It was quiet.

Not for long. Jericho came into the dark and peaceful area, unusually silent himself. He didn't notice Hunter at first, but walked up to the statue. His eyes gleamed in the dim light as he reached over and took up the largest piece of the sword, the one that had the handle. "The sword that cut the Ring from the hand from Undertaker," he said wondrously.

Hunter watched him but said nothing.

Jericho swung it around carelessly for a while. "I came here for this?" he muttered. Then he brought his finger to the tip of the blade. In his single moment of acute stupidity he bent over to fix a strand of hair, that he saw was misplaced by means of the window, and the sword slipped, cutting his finger. "OWWW! Motherfuck!" he yelled out, dropping the sword on the floor. "You'd think something that hasn't been used in a few thousand years would be blunt, goddamnit!"

Hunter snickered. Jericho finally spotted him.

"Oh so you think that was funny?" Jericho snapped. "Keep laughing, jackass," he said, and then he turned and left.

"What a moron," Hunter muttered to himself, then he stood up and went over to where the statue was. Bending over he picked up the sword and replaced it in its proper spot.

"You're here again?"

Hunter cringed. He knew that whine all too well. "Hello, Stephanie," he said with a sigh.

Stephanie walked up to him, albeit a little stiffly. She hadn't anticipated that so much physical exercise from a few days ago would make her sore, and up to know her backside and thighs were still aching. "I need to talk to you, Hunter," she said. "Now turn away from that old, broken thing for a minute and come with me."

With another sigh Hunter followed her, once again wondering why he put up with the chick anyway. Stephanie led him outside into the night and eventually came to a stop on a bridge. The moon was perfect; it's light glinted off the surface of the running water and illuminated the area in a blue glow. It was the two on the bridge that really didn't fit the scenario.

"You were away for so long again," Stephanie started with a pout.

"Official business, Steph, you know that," Hunter said. "I couldn't leave the Hobbit to just die out there."

"You're not the only Ranger on Middle-earth," Stephanie pointed out.

"I'm the only one with a specific tie to the Ring, whether I like it or not," Hunter reminded her. "Listen, I'm tired. What is it you have to tell me?"

Stephanie sulked again, but then she smiled and tried a different approach. "Do you remember the first time we met?" she asked.

"How could I forget? I felt like I had walked into a dream."

The Elven maiden obviously liked that response. "Really? Why was that?"

"I took one look at you," Hunter said. And then she spoke, he heard himself say in the back of his head.

"So you really love me? And you're not hanging around just because my dad is a powerful Elven-lord?"

"No, Steph, why would you think that?" Hunter lied convincingly. Actually, it had started out that way.

Stephanie smiled and her eyes shimmered. "Let's get married, Hunter," she suddenly said.

That was something Hunter obviously was not expecting. He took a step back and began to blubber, losing most of the cool and brooding air he had around him. "Wait a minute, Steph, marriage? I know we've been together for a long time but this is a really big step…"

Stephanie frowned again. "You don't want to marry me? So you've been lying all these years?"

"No, Steph, it's not that…"

"Then do as I say!" Stephanie said, stamping her foot in a temper tantrum. "And I say that I want to get married!"

"Wholly shit," Hunter muttered under his breath. He took Stephanie's hands. "Look," he began, "I've had a really long day. I'll sleep on it, and then we can more about it in the morning, okay?" He stepped back and bowed. "Good night, my lady," then he turned to leave.

"Hunter, you had better make your decision soon," Stephanie said in a threatening voice.

"I will Steph," Hunter said, not looking back.

"Good. Because I'm pregnant."

"That's nice, Steph," Hunter nodded. He walked a couple of more paces until he stopped and looked back. He looked blankly at her then made his way back to where she stood. "Run that by me again."

"I'm pregnant," Stephanie said nonchalantly.

Hunter gaped; he had now completely lost any sense of original cool and mystery that he had about him. "You're pregnant?"

"Didn't I just say I was?"

"How can that be when I've never even touched you?"

Stephanie shrugged. "Just trust me on this one, Hunter. Consider it an Elven-thing. I'm pregnant and you're the father."

Hunter looked like he was about to say something else, but he just stopped with an index finger pointed at her. Many times he tried to say something but nothing would come out of his mouth. Finally the depth of the news sunk in and he froze.

Steph waved a hand over his face. "Hunter?" she reached over and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hunter?"

Hunter promptly fell right over the bridge and into the water.

"Hunter!" Steph screamed. "Somebody, help! Hunter fell into the stream! Somebody get him out! Shane! Matt! Daddy! Get him out!"

Eventually Jeff and Matt, who had been goofing around and wrestling on the grass nearby, heard her screams and went over to see what happened. They managed to fish out Hunter, who, although he was moving, was still unable to speak. The night passed without further incident.