Exhausted faces and abused magics

Aragorn stared in horror at his old friend, who he hadn't seen in nearly half a decade or so.

Beside him, Legolas was very still, the precursor to extreme violence that the elf usually indulged in the case of a bad temper. Gandalf - bless him - spoke for all of them. A good thing, because Aragorn didn't trust himself to speak at the moment.

"Gryffon, my dear," Gandalf said mildly. "You look terrible."

The Lady in question barked out a laugh. Though her hair still shone and was well cared for, her skin was ashen pale, nearly gray and her green eyes shone with a feverish light, ringed with dark circles.

"I told you, my friend," Gryffon said. "The abilities we received are all double-edged. A gift and a curse."

Legolas finally stirred and Aragorn exhaled a little. He had only known the elf for a handful of months but he knew that Legolas's temper was something that shouldn't be bottled, or revealed in an enclosed area.

"So," she continued. "What brings you gentlemen here?"

Aragorn did not even know. He was annoyed with the Mithrandir for being so cryptic. He was told to meet via messenger bird in Haven City, Saldia within a week. The wizard arrived in their meeting place with a handful of Mirkwood elves and no further explanations, only that Lady Gryffon could help them search for the Dark Lord's complete defeat.

"A few years ago," Gandalf said. "You gave me a clue for the completion of the quest that the Valar sent me. It took me years but I finally put together everything."

Gandalf's explanation was long as it was historical. It started with Isildur and the abandonment of the One Ring and it ended – strangely enough – with Bilbo Baggins.

At the end of it, Gryffon's expressive face was distraught.

"So that's what that vision meant!" she exclaimed. Gandalf gave her a look of query and she expounded. "Years and years ago, before we created Saldia, I met Bilbo Baggins. He asked me to tell his future and I saw a life lived full of adventure. But at the end of it, I saw a great lidless eye wreathed in a ring of fire."

There was a shocked silence.

"I have long since wondered," she continued conversationally as though she had not just revealed several things of great importance. "Why an unassuming fellow like that one would have such an eye watching him."

Legolas spoke for the first time. "Your gift could see that far?" he asked.

"It's already been prophesied," Gryffon grouched. "I didn't even need to exert effort. The Dark Lord has been destined to awaken and grow in power, just as he is destined to be defeated." She took a deep breath and expelled it, holding the bridge of her nose. "So what can I do?"

Gandalf nodded decisively. "Precognition is not one of my abilities, though I do have intuition. I need to find the creature Gollum. You have already confirmed my theories but the enemy may get the information of the One Ring's location from him."

Gryffon's eyebrows rose. "As I have said, my friend. My gift is now a curse in these dark times. My visions usually come unbidden and all of it are dark. My son, however, may be of better use to you. His gift is weaker than mine but that gives him a better control of it."

At their affirmative, a messenger was sent to fetch Guiomer while Gryffon unfurled a map of Middle Earth. It was unbelievably detailed, with little scales on the sides.

Aragorn inched closer. "That looks accurate," he remarked. "Who drew that?"

For the first time since they arrived, Gryffon smiled sincerely. It softened the sharp lines of exhaustion on her face and revealed her incredible beauty.

"Would you believe that Eilys drew it?" she asked, mirth in her voice.

"I would have though it would be Enid!" Aragorn exclaimed.

Gryffon laughed merrily. "I know!" she exclaimed. "But Enid has no sense with maps. Her side of the family was always good with books."

A knock came from the door and a colorful head poked through. "Mater?" he asked. He caught sight of her guests and his eyes went wide.

Guiomer's eyes were unfocused but his hands were sure as he traced the map.

"Here is where he is," his fingers pointed. His audience watched avidly. "His mind is a mess. He is seeking his treasure like a hound. For a span of two weeks, he will decide to roam in this area – " a circle drawn " – but that has a chance of changing."

His green eyes blinked once, before looking at Gandalf. "It's a really uncertain mind. He doesn't exactly make logical decisions, or even rational ones. Its all instinct."

Behind him, his mother nodded. "Why don't we have Aedan accompany them in their search for the creature?"

Guiomer's immediate instinctive reaction was a resounding No! But the commander in him knew it was a good suggestion.

Aedan, without any delay, had joined the Brotherhood once the requisite number of years his mother required of him was done. Two years into his training and his hair had suddenly bloomed colors. At the same time, he started predicting things. Small things but predicting them nonetheless.

Testing it revealed it to be a smidge bit more powerful gift than his father, but his mother's blood shielded him from the more adverse effects of the gift.

Guiomer could practically smell his mothers envy. In any other moment, he would have laughed at her, or probably poke fun. But recently…

Right, getting back on topic. Searching for the creature Gollum whose mind was clouded with so much insanity that there was absolutely no way to predict his movements beyond two weeks.

In a moment, Aedan's face flashed into his mind, mischievously taking advantage of situations, nearly abusing his gift. It hadn't gotten to that point yet – note nearly – but it was getting there. However, gifts as powerful as theirs weren't meant to be used that way. That was almost like using the sword of Gryffindor as a nail file.

"I suppose," he gave in with a sigh. "It would be good training for him. But Cailyn's going to fuss and mope."

His mother gave him a tired smile and her eyes shone with pride, making him feel a lot better.

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NO, he did not have a mother complex!

Theodred sheathed his sword with a scowl.

His opponent, Grimbold, said nothing. Theodred has been scowling a lot more recently, and even his cousins are liable to only get sighs.

"One more go, my prince?" Grimbold asked.

Theodred shook out his fingers. "No," he said. "I need to meet up with Fearghal. Give my excuses to my father."

Grimbold's eyes are dark and inscrutable. He knew that Grimbold was personally loyal to him and didn't worry. Grimbold was obsessive like that. He probably knew exactly what time Theodred woke up and what he ideally liked for breakfast.

"Shall I also make excuses for your cousins, my prince?" he asked instead of prying. Theodred's lungs expanded as he released the breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

"Please," he answered with a nod.

Theodred didn't run to the Brotherhood building in the outskirts of Edoras, but it was a near thing. It's easily the biggest building in the capital, perhaps even bigger than the Goldenhall of his ancestors. He expected that when it was built. This was founded by Saldia, after all.

By the foot of the stairs, he met Eowyn and Eomer, sharing a ration bar as they trade knife-throwing tips. She was wearing the official uniform of the Women's League – a pearl gray colored dress that was designed for maneuverability. Eomer was clad in the uniform of the Rohirrim, which really wasn't much different from Theodred's own armor.

"Cousin," Eowyn greeted him first.

Pleasantries could wait. The window of opportunity was growing smaller the more he delayed.

"Is Fearghal inside?" he asked instead.

She nodded and together, they entered. Theodred's stomach was squirming as he met Fearghal's blue eyes.

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Because what they were planning was treason and they could all be executed if it fails.

It was the little things that first clued them in but Eowyn agreed that it was only when King Theoden no longer practiced sparring for three days straight that cemented their fears.

After Lady Gryffon's gifted them with a training manual on how to train people to their maximum potential, and keep it that way, nobody ever skipped a spar three days in a row. Muscle mass was generated through hard work and continuous repetition. For her Uncle to do that meant something was deeply wrong with him.

Once their doubts were banished, they started to notice even the most miniscule of slips, like how King Theoden's eyes would close whenever Theodred entered the room, or how his preferences of meat were suddenly changed. He would never do that!

But by then, it was getting to be too much because King Theoden started degrading right in front of their eyes, and it wasn't just because of lack of exercise either. Something was eating him from the inside.

"Something is influencing him," her cousin said angrily. "That is not my father."

Eomer nodded. "We already know that. But who could it be? I have my suspicions on Grima Wormtongue," he said.

Eomer always was suspicious of Grima ever since Eomer caught him in Eowyn's room when she was bathing. Thank Varda for the curtains.

Fearghal shook his head. "No. That is the kind of thing that needs appropriate skill. I take it Grima never showed any outstanding talent for herbs, potions or sorcery?" he asked.

Eowyn really appreciated Fearghal's levelheadedness. That was probably because of his training in the Brotherhood, coupled with the fact that he had been one of the last people to be personally taught by Lady Enid. Or maybe because he was the Brotherhood commander for the Branch in Rohan.

"He's a worm," Eomer spat out. "Whose only talent is his tongue and he uses it to get whatever he wants. A coward and a pervert."

The last word was said with such venom that Fearghal flinched.

"My cousins prejudice aside," Theodred interrupted. "I do not think Grima has any remarkable talents. It may be that he is only working for whoever is slowly killing my uncle."

Fearghal sighed. "Magic and Sorcery it is then," he said softly. "But that is beyond me, or any of the Order's healers to cure. I will send my lady a message."

Eowyn felt her eyes growing wide even as her spine unconsciously straightened. Beside her, she could see her cousin and her brother doing the nearly the same thing.

They had skirted around the idea of asking Lady Gryffon. When they first encountered the problem, asking her felt like whacking an ant with a giant mallet. However, now that the problem had grown and it was already an appropriate thing to ask her, they still were hesitant to ask.

Whether it was for advice or for help, asking the Lady was something that felt like a last resort, when all means had failed.

And still, Eowyn did not know why.

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(Or maybe because, once Lady Gryffon helps, she gives it her entire soul and seeing her over-exert herself would be painful.)

Cailyn, predictably, fretted.

Luna watched the proceedings with amused eyes and waited until Aedan finally ran off to pack his bags before she started to talk and distract the poor mother.

It worked for a moment. And then Aedan came back, carrying his saddlebags and kissing his mother goodbye.

Cailyn promptly burst into tears. Luna gave it up as a lost cause.

"Nice try," Hermione said. "But it won't work for Cailyn. She's too worried. She's a bit like Guiomer in that aspect."

Luna sighed and would have started moping too but Draco, who had been nursing a cup of tea, suddenly started another topic.

"I managed to cross-breed that weed you were complaining about," he said. "It's a bit like papyrus now. We can finally do that newspaper you wanted, Granger."

Hermione lit up. Even Luna did, given that her father had been the editor for the Quibbler.

"I vote for no sensational stories," Heather said as she slid into her seat. "All articles must have their facts checked."

"Hear, hear," he said. Draco's family had been a target of such sensational stories after the war.

"Where are your guests, feather?" Hermione demanded. "I would have thought we wouldn't see you until tomorrow."

She shrugged. "Gandalf wanted to hurry," she explained. "Because of Aedan's age and because their prey had finally crossed the Gap of Rohan."

The topic returned to the newspaper and what would get published. Luna signaled Fenny to fetch parchment and ink. She took notes as they started to divide the paper into sections.

"We'll probably have an entire section devoted to adverts," Hermione said. "I didn't even know about that restaurant until Cailyn took me there."

Draco hummed in thought. "Let's hire someone to do half the paperwork for this though."

Heather suddenly grinned and Luna sat up straighter at the sight. She was no longer bored.

"Let's post in one page that we will accept all questions and publish the question and the answer. It can be addressed to either of the four of us," Heather chirped merrily.

Draco and Hermione stared at her in horror.

"Merlin no!" he burst out. "We just pawned off all our paperwork to other people and you want to do that again?"

Hermione had a different concern. "That nearly violates your own Charter," she pointed out. "What if someone crosses the line?"

Here, Luna just had to speak up. It wasn't fair on Heather to take all the heat. It wasn't a bad idea, really.

"That's just it," she said. "The Charter is a bit stifling, Mione. For those who are not used to it, I mean. This will clear all their doubts and questions without violating the Charter. They are asking, you see? And it is up to us whether to answer or not."

Grudgingly, the idea was accepted and Luna allocated five pages for it. Heather simply beamed.

Four nights later, a messenger hawk arrived in Saldia, bearing the personal crest of Theodred while miles away, in the Shores where the Corsairs of Umbar dwelled, the Orb of Ar-Pharazon, memento of the Golden King of Numenor, shattered.

And the darkness that flitted around the edges of Saldia, suddenly grew stifling.

Deleted Scenes:

Scene 1:

Denethor's Surprise

Boromir watched worriedly as his brother and his father met again, for the first time since that Valar-accursed exile.

Faramir, with that strange grace, bowed to their father. He made it look like he was mocking the man seated on the Stewards chair. Boromir couldn't exactly pinpoint what though.

It was obvious that Denethor knew it too, by the vein throbbing on his forehead. But with everybody watching, he couldn't exactly yell at Faramir. Boromir breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm home, father," Faramir said. "It is good to see you again."

Denethor smiled through gritted teeth. "You as well, my son."

An image suddenly came to Boromir's mind, that of two wolves prowling and marking territory. He shook it off and continued watching, fingers dancing on the hilt of his sword for some comfort.

"Let us hope," Denethor continued. "That your time away has at least taught you some measure of control over your impulses."

Boromir's neck tingled with danger. He suddenly knew that his father had stepped on something delicate.

Faramir smiled pleasantly at their father. "Of course father," he said softly and evenly. It still sounded like a thousand knives hovering in the air, no matter what. "All my impulses have been trained. My mind, my body and my spirit, tested when I went away. How have you been?"

How have you been sounded more like, Have you curbed your impulses as well? All the nobles listening knew it too, by the smirks showing up.

Double-edged words and political training. Just what have his brothers hosts been teaching him?

The subtlety flew over Denethor's head. "I would have been better if you didn't misbehave. Your brother needed your help here," he grouched instead.

Oooh, Manwe. That insinuated that the exile was entirely Faramir's fault. Boromir's hand clenched on the hilt of his sword.

Faramir was still smiling. "Ahh, I'm sure it wasn't all that bad, father. After all, Boromir is capable. You taught him, after all," he said.

Boromir's back straightened even as he felt himself smiling. That was a very well done answer. It insulted Denethor for any of Boromir's conceived failings, all of which Denethor had complained about.

But really, both of them going at it minutes into seeing each other set a dangerous precedent for all future meetings. Boromir rubbed his temples. He could feel a migraine growing.

Scene 2:

Finding the Ritual for jumping worlds

Hermione found it by accident.

Being cooped up in Grimmauld place was for months was enough to drive someone batty and even if Kreacher had done an admirable job cleaning and returning things to perfection, it was still too…cave-like for someone who had spent the better part of the previous year running in forests. Open space, or even a garden would have been brilliant, but nooo, it was a bloody safehouse.

So she turned to the library. ("When in doubt, turn to books!" "Shut up, feather!") and distracted her mind. Her mind was really a terrible disadvantage when she was bored. She didn't have a very vivid imagination but all the things she had experienced didn't make nice examples of distraction either.

But still, there was only so much one can read. And yes, that really happened to her too. Especially since there were only a handful subjects that the Black Library really focused on. (The only handful of interesting books she found were clearly from Regulus Black and Kreacher looked like he would have waged war if she tried touching it.) That's when she found it.

The shelves of the library went until five shelves and for someone with Hermione's height, that isn't very easy. The chair she was standing on wobbled for a minute or two and then she finally crashed, skidding through the floor and banging her head on a wooden figuring of an angel that was affixed at the bottom of another bookshelf.

There was a click and a hidden staircase suddenly descended almost immediately on top of her head.

Head ringing, Hermione climbed the wooden stair and found a book. The rest, as they say, is history.

Scene 3:

A moment with Draco

The end of the war didn't make any spectacular changes in Draco's life. His father was still absentee and his mother was still flighty. People still hated him and he still had to hurry shopping.

Except…maybe he is deluding himself.

His father was absentee because he was blasted to pieces by Molly Weasley. His mother was flighty – never there – because she was six feet under, tormented to death by his father's own colleagues.

He avenged his mother by killing everybody who did it and escaping with Potter, leaving his Aunt Bella alive to explain what happened to the Dark Lord. It was sweet that Potter told him he could hear her screaming under the Dark Lord's cruciatus through their mental connection.

Of course, people had hated him before the war because he was a snobby, rich, spoiled prat. After the war, people still hated him because he was a snobby, rich, no-longer-so-spoiled asshole.

Whatever possessed Potter to take him in like another one of her strays was something he will never know. (The adjective, stray, is rather apt especially after Lovegood arrived. Merlin curse it!)

The breaking of the Orb of Ar-Pharazon signified Umbar swearing their allegiance to Saruman.

In the first part, Heather didn't want to wear glamors around her friends because she's being honest. Especially after that time when she almost died because of potions addiction (specifically to pepper up and dreamless sleep) and was only saved because of Elrond. Her family members don't make much fuss around her degeneration because she is covering it up a bit, but not by much. All they see is her getting thinner and looking more tired. (Don't worry, after Saruman goes boom, she gets better.)

My grammar got a bit shaky in Theodred's bit. Sorry, I was reading esama before I wrote that so I got a bit drawn in her writing style. Notice my sudden change in format. Don't worry, I don't think it's permanent.

And finally, we are touching the prequel of the Fellowship of the Ring. (I'm sure everybody noticed that.)

Questions:

The potion which saved Cailyn's life, and the matter of elves.

There are other people in other nations in their schools, you know. That potion is being included in the curriculum, but it is probably restricted due to how difficult it is to brew. Elves, do visit, but have either of you noticed that those lot are their own country? They only visit for specific purposes. The news of that potion hasn't reached their ears yet (sadly, no radios yet) so they haven't visited in droves. Lol.

How many people live in Saldia?

I hate specific questions like these – makes me think properly, you see. They are probably up to 2.5 million. Migration and advancement of medicine, you know. Ten to fifteen families, usually from small villages, migrate to Saldia everyday. (This is an estimate. See if you can do better. This is a big country.)

Are other towns being established in Saldia? (Don't you mean cities, love?)

Yep. Oh hey, that reminds me. I challenge you lot to name my other cities. Requirements: (a) must have a Latin origin, (b) must be sensible, or (c) if weird, must have a funny story to back it. (Yep, those are my own standards. See why it's so hard for me to name all 38 cities?)

Are the streets in Haven cobbled or dirt or made out of brick?

Cobbled, definitely. Some parts are dirt, obviously, but the more central and more important parts are cobbled. Stone is still coming in, of course, mined from the mountains, but people mainly use that for other purposes. Anything extra goes to the floor. (This is for those weird citizens who want their houses made of stone instead of brick.)

Irrigation and flood? Farmlands, Income and Trade.

They have storm gutters (is that what you call it?) around the city, to keep the worst of the water out. They have some farmlands and a lot of greenhouses. Mostly, those greenhouses are for potions but a small bit of it creates food. Just in case. They have farms, those tiny other villages that want to be part of Saldia but don't wanna move in. Heather just gave those people more land, a lot of funding and more seeds. Viola, instant farms. Mainly, what keeps Saldia afloat is there Tourism and their Education. People want to be educated in Saldia and the food there is first class. (This is Cailyn's fault. Blame the baker.) It's become something like a trading area too, but that's not what its famous for. Primary source of trade are the potions.

How are their relations with the other countries?

For Gondor, it's a bit of a critical thing. Especially since Faramir. Denethor thinks they are on his side and likes them. And then Faramir comes home and Denethor finds out just what they have been teaching him. So it's a bit shaky. Trade wise, they are not good too, ever since the Silk embargo Draco did to them.

For Hobbiton, hmm. Hobbits generally get along better with the humans in Bree. That town has perfected the art of living with hobbits, so hobbits, creatures of comfort that they are, don't really need to go to Saldia, even if they did know about it.

Sewers and water.

They have an underground system that is covered with runes to filter and clean all wastes. The first ever project of Draco and Hermione together is to create a self-recycling sewage. I suppose they succeeded. It sends the purified water to the sea. The contaminants are then sent to the farms as fertilizer.

All their water pipes, be it ordinary or not, are carved with runes. Draco and Guiomer do this in their spare time. It is to keep the water fresh and clean. Their pipes has filters too, coz Hermione is anal like that.

Orphans and gov't buildings.

The orphans (And yes, I totally agree that I need to change their name to messengers instead of orphans) live in orphanages or foster homes. However, Hermione periodically checks these places to make sure all children are happy and well cared for. Sometimes, when an orphan applies and succeeds in getting permission, a group of them can band together and buy their own house and start their own business. This is actually happening fairly frequently. Heather is kept on her toes to teach these fellows management if their business starts floundering.

Yep, there is a central gov't building. It's very near the Bell Tower. Its full of offices of all departments. Its has 15 floors, and 50 offices. They are building separate buildings for each department in different cities coz its getting overcrowded.

Crime and a days wage.

Crime punishment is Hermione's duty. She handed that over to a department and gave them a handbook of acceptable punishments. Usually, its just a fine and a very public humiliation. However, there are seminars (to make them understand what's wrong) and the removal of ones assets. (Haven't finalized this yet.)

A day's wage is up to the contract of the employer and the employee, but Heather decreed that the wage cannot go below one silver coin.

Taxes and houses.

There are taxes and people pay them. There are people who are exempt from that and that is usually when they are steady suppliers and give constant donations to the Brotherhood and the Order.

A house is usually just two stories. This can go higher. They have apartment complexes that go as high as ten stories with nearly forty units. Usually bought by orphans – gah! – messengers.

Buildings and livestock.

The highest building is easily the administrator building. But the highest structure is the Bell Tower. The grandest structure are the walls. The most beautiful structure is the Hospital.

Livestock are there, horses are rented, you know. But the cattle and all other sheep are kept in the farms. Its to prevent waste on the streets. Any person may have pets but the waste is totally the owners responsibility.

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Gah! I have finally finished my feasibility study. I can just go die in a corner, or sleep forever. Either option sounds brilliant.

Thanks for all your support, guys. This never would have gotten this far without your help. And if I answered anything wrongly in the questions bit, excuse me coz I am sleep-deprived.

Please R&R.

Love,

Lady Hallen

P.S. All noted errors have been corrected.

P.P.S. 1000 reviews! Here I come!