The Wolf once known as Edward Teach, or Thatch (the spelling hardly mattered, as neither was his actual surname; keeping his birth surname would have tarnished the good family name and ruined their reputation forever), later more popularly known as the fearsome pirate Blackbeard, puffed his pipe contentedly. These Elves knew how to make a guest feel right at home. Old Toby, the pipe-weed was called. It was the best Ted had ever smoked. He hoped that they would let him take a pouch or two when he eventually decided to leave.
He'd only been in Rivendell for about six weeks, but it felt like much longer. Everything was so quiet here, so peaceful. The air was pure, unpolluted by the modern industries of the Other World. That was what the Elves called home – and it made sense, of course. Ted had no idea why Tolkien had decided to call this place 'Middle-earth'. No one here ever used that term. It was just…well, their world. Their home.
Ted stretched his legs on the wooden chaise longue and gazed into the dreamy landscape. Everything was green, except for spots of colour where flowers bloomed. They had the brightest hues: purple, hot pink, cerulean; some even looked like they were made of solid gold, glinting under the pleasantly warm sun. There was a gigantic waterfall somewhere, and the sound of rushing, crashing water was incredibly soothing. There were a few bugs, but not the annoying sort: no mosquitoes, no wasps, no flies. Only droning bumblebees and busy honeybees. The scents surrounding him were refreshing and calming all at once. If the Heaven that religious folks believed in existed, Ted figured that it must look a bit like this.
The company was pleasant as well. The vampires had warned him that the Elves wouldn't be happy to have another visitor so soon, but once he'd established contact and explained the situation, they'd been hospitable and quite welcoming. To be fair, their leader – whose name Ted still had no idea how to pronounce; he simply called him 'matey' or 'chief', which the Elf found quaint but not disrespectful, thankfully – had taken an interest in Ted's life. It couldn't rival in length with that of the Elf, who was likely thousands of years old, but it was more…full. Adventure-wise, at least. Ted had always liked to travel, even after he gave up piracy, and he could never stay put in one place for more than a few days at a time. He was relaxing in the gardens now, but he'd already explored the surrounding woods and gone on several long hiking trips in the area. This was a whole new world for him to explore and he'd only scouted the tiniest part of it. He could spend decades here and never get bored.
He'd promised Evey that he would return as soon as possible, but the Elves had fixed the portal almost as soon as he'd explained that it was dysfunctional, so he wasn't exactly held back by any time distortion. Of course, Evey wouldn't know about that. She'd assume that Ted would spend a few days of his life in Middle-earth but would return several Earth months later. Ted felt a twinge of guilt at the thought, but she would be fine now, wouldn't she? Her husband and her…friend had returned unharmed. He thought back on how lost the girl had been without them, like a puppy abandoned on the side of an unfamiliar road.
Mortals. They were so fragile, so dependent on each other. It was…endearing, if quite unfathomable.
Ted had carefully kept count of his time spent in Rivendell, though. The first three days, before time had been magically fixed, had cost him about three Earth months, and that had been five weeks ago. Four months of vacation, but didn't he deserve it? And surely he'd be back in plenty of time for the ineluctable final battle between the non-evil English wizarding world and that weird bloke who had horrible taste in pets. When Ted had departed, absolutely nothing had been going on. It had been depressingly tedious, but when he'd tried to take Evey out of the country to distract her a bit, she'd stubbornly refused. Harry Potter could accomplish his mission at any moment, she'd insisted, and then they would need to act fast. Any moment, but Ted doubted that it would happen in the space of a few months; Potter was just a lad, tasked with saving the world (well, Great Britain, at any rate), and his team was composed of two other teenagers.
What could possibly go wrong?
Ted relighted his pipe and took another puff. He'd done what he'd promised to do: explain to the Elves that there was no need to convene an assembly to decide if they should help the Other World in their fight against Voldemort, since by the time it happened, the danger would either have passed or it would be too late; tell them that their last remaining portal was damaged, and ask if they'd consider not only fixing it, but reopening it and some of the others as well. Actually, that hadn't been part of his initial mission, but after realising how much there was for him to explore, Ted wanted to make the whole place available – for himself at the very least. The Elves had been surprisingly compliant with that last request. To them, it had only been a few months since Tolkien's infamous betrayal, but the Other World had moved forward fifty years. Of course, fifty years seemed insignificant to an Elf, just like it did to Ted, but they understood that two generations of mortals had passed since then. They hoped that the next ones to visit would show more respect and discretion. They'd set conditions, as was to be expected. Anyone who wished to use a portal would need a passport, and their reason for visiting would have to be formally reviewed and accepted by a committee comprising of a representative of each Middle-earth race – Dwarf, Elf, Human. There would be no 'business or pleasure' situation. Their time here would be limited, and they wouldn't be allowed to bring anything back with them, or to take notes. Or photographs. This was going to be a test run, really. If things worked out well, perhaps they would be more lenient in the future.
This had been decided over the past few weeks, after long debates and arguments including many representatives of the people of Middle-earth. The Elven Lord had kindly allowed Ted to participate, as the voice of the Other World. Ted wondered if this was meant to be an official position or a temporary disposition, until a proper ambassador could be elected back home.
"Master Ted?" an accented voice said politely.
His Wolf's nose had detected someone in the vicinity, but the Elves were impossibly noiseless. He almost never heard them approach. It was a pleasant change; humans were usually too bloody loud. Ted turned his head toward the newcomer, a pretty female Elf with long, silvery hair and twinkling grey eyes. All Elves were at least pretty, it seemed, when they were not ethereally beautiful. There were no fat Elves, and they all had perfect dentition. Again, a pleasant change from England – though he was one to talk on that account. He'd lost most of his original teeth to scurvy when he was still a mortal pirate. "Hullo," he said with a fake-teethed grin.
She bowed slightly and produced a piece of parchment from her pocket. "We have received a message for you, from the Other World." She handed it to him, then bowed again before departing to give him some privacy.
There were only a few words: "TED – UNLESS YOU'RE DEAD, GET YOUR ARSE BACK HERE IMMEDIATELY." It was simply signed V, but Ted would have recognised Evey's style even without the signature. He chuckled, pocketing the message. It was a wonder that it'd taken her so long to send word to him. She was the type to worry about people for no reason.
Well, that was it. He couldn't delay any longer.
The time had come to kick Lord Noseless's butt, and Ted found that he was suddenly looking forward to some proper action. But first, he would finish his Old Toby pipe in peace. He relighted it again, settled comfortably in the chaise, and closed his eyes.
"Ah…Master Ted?" the same Elf approached him a moment later. The Wolf glanced at her, frowning slightly. She handed him several sheets of parchment. "More messages." She seemed puzzled. "Each patrol has returned with at least one. And, um…this is frightfully embarrassing, but it looks like some of them were sent a while ago. We do not know what happened. Perhaps a problem with the portal… Perhaps it still require repairs."
Ted took them and quickly scanned the words: "TED – THIS IS AN EMERGENCY. PLEASE RETURN AS SOON AS YOU CAN. V." "I MEAN IT. V." "TED – YOU BETTER HAVE A GOOD REASON FOR NOT GIVING SIGN OF LIFE. V." "I SWEAR I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU IF YOU'RE NOT DEAD. COME BACK THIS INSTANT! V." "TED – STOP FOOLING AROUND WITH THE PRETTY ELVES! WE HAVE A LIFE/DEATH SITUATION HERE. V." "TED – I'M DYING. ONLY HAVE HOURS TO LIVE. WANT TO SAY GOODBYE. V." "WAS KIDDING – AM NOT DYING, BUT YOU WILL BE IF I EVER GET INSIDE THAT BLOODY PORTAL AND FIND YOU ALIVE. V." "TED – ARRR, MATEY. YOU DO BE A PAIN IN ME BACK. V."
Ted stared at the messages open-mouthed, then looked at the Elf. She was obviously nervous. "I'm terribly sorry!" she said, twisting her hands – a very uncharacteristic thing for an Elf to do. They were always quite collected, to the point of seeming aloof. "I don't know what happened," she repeated. "I assure you, we did not hold them on purpose-"
Ted stood up. "No worries, lass. It's not your fault. But…I should probably go. Please excuse my hasty departure, but this seems to be urgent." With an apologetic smile, he handed her the mass of papers, abandoned his pipe and began to run. "Give my regards to the chief!" he called over his shoulder before shifting to his Wolf form, better fitted for running.
Evey was going to kill him for sure.