Disclaimer: I do not own/profit off of The Lord of the Rings, which belongs to their respective owners.


March 16, T.A. 3019

Over the past day, around a twelfth of the injured soldiers had received some form of care, either from Dr. Stewart, James, or any one of the various Gondorian medical practitioners. Upon inspection of the operations of the Gondorian medical practitioners, Dr. Stewart was horrified at the lack of basic disease prevention procedures, so he had begun to implement procedures such as routine disinfection of scalpels and other tools and constant reminders for medical practitioners to wash their hands as often as possible. Although many of the Gondorian medical practitioners found the procedures to be difficult to incorporate into their routine at first, by now, they were mostly in place, which actually led to higher recovery rates among patients. Even then, there were still around 1,000 patients waiting for care, due to their injuries being deemed less severe, and as such, they were not prioritised. It is estimated that it will take at minimum 10 days to distribute medical services to all of the patients in Minas Tirith.

As the morning light shines into the room, James takes a deep breath and prepares himself mentally for his task, seeing Éowyn lying on the bed, sleeping, who slowly awakens and sees James walking into the room pulling an X-ray along with him and wearing his satchel full of medical supplies, smiling slightly as James stops at her side and extends the X-ray over Éowyn's arm, putting a lead blanket over her while also putting a lead apron on himself.

As James examines Éowyn's arm using the X-ray as she lies in bed, awake but told to not move, he miraculously finds her arm to have completely healed in what should have taken months.

"Bloody hell... I've never seen a broken bone heal that quickly," he mutters as he looks through the X-ray, triple-checking to make sure that it wasn't a fluke.

"I love watching you while you're working. I never knew that you were a healer," comments Éowyn.

"You know, ever since I was young, I've always wanted to become a medical practitioner and save lives. When I was growing up, my dad was my role model since he was a highly successful medical practitioner, and I wanted to be just like him. He even paid for my education at the Cambridge School of Clinical Medicine, and I will always be grateful for that, as I learned many things during my four years of studying there. However, just as I had left medical school, Nazi Germany had begun to annex territories around it and rebuilding its military, and it seemed that war was on the horizon."

"So, why did you become a pilot instead of a medical practitioner?" asked Éowyn as she reaches for James' free hand, which gently takes Éowyn's hand.

By now, the X-ray scan has finished, so James turns off the machine and removes the lead blanket from Éowyn, then takes off his lead apron and sets them all aside. He then kneels at Éowyn's side so that they can see each other's faces more clearly.

(Cue Porco Rosso: The Bygone Days)

James muses for a moment before replying, "When I first met Travis, he introduced me to the world of aviation through a couple of aviation magazines, and ever since, I have always had a love for aeroplanes. Now, fast forwarding to 1938, when I enlisted in the military, my desire to defend my country became greater than my desire to become a doctor. At that point, Travis had already become a pilot, and he was willing to help me become one as well, so I joined the RAF, figuring I would have an advantage there, and also because I still liked aeroplanes. Even though I had signed up to be a pilot, I still was able to assist the resident medical practitioner with treating wounds, and in a way, it was sort of a way for me to please both of my desires. Nearly six years later, between every battle, nearly losing the war, managing to repel the Nazis from the skies of our homeland, slowly pushing into enemy territory, and being transported to this world in the middle of its own war, I'm here with you now, so far away from home, and I'm left wondering, what's next? What is to come of this world? What is to come of us?"

Éowyn enters with some of her own thoughts. "I am sure that what will come will be better than the battle fought here for the past two days, in which we triumphed in the end. When I was growing up, I desired to become a warrior, to seek glory in battle and die a hero. I didn't want to simply stay in the same place forever, seeing the world changing around me without myself having a say in all of it. I received my wish yesterday, but it didn't seem glorious, nor was I proud. I defeated the Witch-king, Sauron's greatest servant, but it left my spirit crushed and my body broken. Had you not come, I am certain that I would have perished there, alone and without anyone by my side. The horrors of war were something that I had tried to not think about, but now that I have experienced them, I am not sure if they are worth the glory in battle I was seeking."

"I feel much the same about war. When I signed up to be a pilot, I thought flying would be a marvelous experience. Turns out, that is sometimes the case, but often times, novel and interesting technology can be used in horrible ways to kill as many people as possible in war. When we were forced to defend our home island all those years ago, it was grueling and it exhausted us well beyond what we thought were our limits. Several times a day, we would have to repel the Nazis, who just kept coming and coming and bombing our fair country with their aeroplanes, claiming many lives and leaving many more broken. Our leader spoke of us with the words, 'Never was so much owed by so many to so few.' The ones who never landed back at base—they were the ones we owed the most. Right now, we're on the offensive, and I try not to think about those times, but sometimes, it just comes to me and I sit there, sobbing."

A tear falls out of James' eye, followed by another one out of the other eye, then many more from both. Éowyn sees this and rises from her bed, offering a hug to James in emotional support. James gladly accepts it, who by now is in tears with the sudden outpouring of bottled up emotions and memories from the Battle of Britain, which was years ago, yet still fresh in his mind, as well as all those who had died, including the four Britons who had perished during the recent battle.

In between sobs, James says, "Thank you. When the war is over, I would like to become a medical practitioner. Of course, flying is something that I will do every now and then, but now, I would much rather save lives than take them away in war. Maybe we'll somehow find a way back to Britain and find out if we won the war, if the war is even over. Ah, whatever, I'm getting ahead of myself here."

At this point, James notices that Éowyn has also started to sob softly, squeezing him a little tighter as well, although she stops sobbing after around 20 seconds. Around a minute later, James finishes sobbing, his emotional downpour finally over as they both stop hugging, although they are still holding hands.

"Thank you, James," says Éowyn with a genuine hint of empathy.

"You too, Éowyn," replies James, who wipes the last tear from his eye and puts his professional persona back on, knowing that he still has a job to do.

"Anyways, we have to get back to the more important subject, which is making sure you recover from your injuries. Luckily, it seems that somehow, your broken bone has healed very quickly."

"Are you sure that you are all right?" asked Éowyn, who still seemed somewhat concerned for him.

"Yes. That happened because it just kept getting growing inside of me, and it became harder and harder to hide. I didn't expect it all to come out now, but I'm glad it was right now, with you. I feel much better now."

"I am glad to hear that you are doing well," replies Éowyn as she smiles, squeezing his hand slightly as well.

James is still surprised that it took so little time for Éowyn's arm to heal, and he isn't sure if her arm is actually healed, or if it just looked like it was healed on the X-ray. Wanting to confirm from Éowyn's perspective, James asks if he can touch her arm and see how much pain, if any, she feels.

"All right, even though your arm might have visibly healed, the bones inside might not have fully hardened yet. Would you mind if I were to lightly touch your arm to test for your reaction?"

"Go ahead," Éowyn replies as she loosens her grip on James' hand.

James touches her left arm lightly, just in case Éowyn's arm hadn't healed fully. "Do you feel any pain from the touch?"

Éowyn replies, "Nothing, nothing at all. Just the light touch of your fingers."

"That is good. Ordinarily, the healing process for a broken bone should have taken months. However, the Gondorian medical practitioners must have managed to shorten that time quite a bit."

"I think it was the waterskin you carry around. I heard from Lord Aragorn that it was filled with an infusion of water and a special herb called athelas, known for its healing properties."

"Well, it could have been either one, but it doesn't matter now. Your arm's good, so I'll just get this cast off. Please hold still, it won't hurt a bit."

James pulls out his shears which are specifically designed for cutting away casts. James makes nice and even cuts on the length of one side of the cast, and once he's done with that, he switches to the other side to repeat the same process. After cutting both sides of the cast, James removes the cast from Éowyn's arm, revealing a minute amount of dead skin cells covering her arm. James takes out an empty tub and fills it with warm water from a nearby tap. He then grabs a towel and soap and heads back to Éowyn's quarters to wash her arm. James washes her arm gently with the soap and water, drying off her arm with the towel until the dead skin cells are removed. After emptying the water and putting away the soap and towel, James heads back to Éowyn's quarters to bring her the good news.

"All right then, I think you're good to go. Your arm may feel stiff, but don't worry. It'll get better over time."

"Once again James, I cannot thank you enough for all that you've done for me."

"You're quite welcome, Éowyn. It's been a pleasure to be with you." This forms a slight smile on Éowyn's face. "Unfortunately, I must leave now as there are more patients I have to tend to. I wish you well, Éowyn."

"Thank you, James, and goodbye."

Suddenly, a messenger enters the room, who reveals that Lord Denethor had perished during the battle, although how he perished was not what James had expected. Denethor's mental state rapidly deteriorated over the course of the battle, who kept telling himself that the British were useless and that they were secretly working for Sauron, which was dismissed by pretty much all of the major military leaders as ridiculous, including Boromir. Once the battle had culminated to the point where the main gate of Minas Tirith was being broken down, Denethor lit himself on fire and cast himself from the seventh level of Minas Tirith, reportedly shouting "The British are nothing but liars, cheaters, and thieves!" while believing that the British were going to take over his kingdom after what he saw as the inevitable victory of Sauron's forces. This of course didn't happen, and James breaks into laughter upon the messenger's conclusion of the story, which is followed by laughter from Éowyn, who feels the effect of contagious laughter.

After the messenger leaves, James and Éowyn say their goodbyes again, and Éowyn leaves the room. After that, James shows up to the room he was assigned to and treats the injuries of the patients there, and in comparison to the typical wounds one from the 20th century battlefield would find, these medieval wounds are gruesome in their own right. Many of the injuries are stab wounds and broken bones, with the occasional injury that is so bad, often involving a severe case of gangrene, that amputation has to be performed, although morphine is provided by the British to ease the pain of the operation. Pretty soon though, James' assigned lunch break arrives, giving him a brief period of time to relax from all of the work he was doing earlier trying to save as many lives as possible. After quickly scarfing down a can of corned beef and a piece of bread, James decides to take the opportunity to survey the battlefield to see if there are possibly any survivors, getting permission from the chief doctor to do so. As James leaves the ruined gates of Minas Tirith for the survey, he notices a familiar figure standing near him just as he looked to the left.

Air Commodore Arthur Maxwell stands in front of James, just having finished walking over from the other side of the wall. James hasn't seen the air commodore in a while, so it comes as a surprise to see the air commodore in front of himself.

"Flight Lieutenant Harris, have you ever thought to yourself about our stateless status in this world? We live on airstrips which aren't even built on our own land."

James notices a change in the air commodore's personality from one of seriousness and uptightness to one of inquisitiveness, which he notices as strange, but dismisses the notion.

"Well sir, that's technically what we did back in Italy."

"In that case, we had a nation to call home in our world, yet we lack such a place here. The United Kingdom as we know it doesn't exist in this world."

"And?"

"What I'm saying is that we, as Britons, must found a new Britain."

James was taken aback at this question since he thought the priority was to find a way back to Earth and Britain, not somehow create and maintain a new state with fewer than a thousand inhabitants.

He simply replies, "What?"

The air commodore continues unfazed. "First, we will acquire the land which RAF Fairfield is situated upon and found the New United Kingdom. Then, we'll also declare RAF Edoras and RAF Minas Tirith as independent British territory. After that, we shall connect the airbases on the ground and declare a new state for us Britons, and only for us Britons. We will expand our territory further from there. Only then shall we see ourselves in this world as the New British Empire."

I always knew the air commodore was a nationalist, but at this level? Recreating the British Empire through conquest of our allies is the last thing we should do! Especially during an ongoing war!

James replies in a rather infuriated tone, "The bloody hell are you talking about? We're fighting a war, for goodness' sake! We can't just conquer our allies and expect good things out of that!"

As James finishes, he notices that the air commodore seems to be reaching for something in his coat pocket; however, James doesn't immediately realise what he is doing.

"Sir, what are you—" James' words are cut short by the air commodore pulling out his revolver and aiming it at him.

Unable to reach for his revolver in time, James slowly raises his hands up as he begins to sweat. What in the hell is this arsehole doing? Has he gone mad?

Meanwhile, the air commodore smirks and adopts a more manipulative persona. "Have you heard of a ring? I've lost a ring somewhere and I think you may know something about it."

Bollocks. He doesn't even sound like his uptight RAF commander self anymore, something IS off about him. It's been like that from the get-go, but it's just way too obvious now.

"Sir, I've never heard of such a ring."

"Don't give me that answer, Flight Lieutenant. It's a particularly special golden ring with lovely writing on the outside. We both know what it is."

That tosser better not be thinking about that ring. James replies, "Really sir, I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. I presume it may be a wedding ring of some sorts?"

"Well, I have mine right here." The air commodore raises his left hand, which is still at his side, and flashes his wedding ring, snugly fit on his ring finger. However, he still keeps his revolver pointed at James.

"It's a shame that I can't see my wife anymore, but we're not talking about that ring, no, we're talking about something more precious."

James notices his more possessive tone and becomes increasingly worried, visibly sweating while trying not to fidget. Has Sauron gotten to him?

"Erm... well... uhh... I don't know..."

The air commodore tries to coerce James into revealing the ring's location. "Come on now, stop faffing around." He cocks the revolver and aims it at James' head with both of his hands. "Tell me where it is and we'll be done, you Brummie bastard."

James is taken aback by the insult against him. "You bloody wanker! You're not going to get anywhere by threatening and mocking me."

"Give me my precious!" demands the air commodore, with James noticing his eyes darkening as these words exited his mouth, surprising him and catching him off guard.

Trying to stall for just a bit more time, James replies in an increasingly frantic tone, "I literally do not know what or where it is! Why the bloody hell are you even here in the first place?! Aren't you supposed to be managing RAF Fairfield?!"

"That's it! I've had enough of you—" Suddenly, an arrow flies into the air commodores' hip, who tries to shoot James as he falls down, but fails to do so as James just stands there, surprised at the turn of events.

Meanwhile, the air commodore, even while he is lying down on his stomach, is still trying to attack James, barely finding the strength to lift his arm, let alone aim a revolver as his face turns paler and paler.

"That arrow was only but a scratch. I'll find my precious soon enough, and I'll make sure that you will nev—" The air commodore's sentence is ended by another arrow landing in his back, this time instantly killing him.

Seeing what was his superior officer lying there, dead on the ground, James felt a sizeable portion of shock manifest in his body, unable to say anything and confining his thoughts to himself as he tried to process what had just happened, from the air commodore coming under the influence of The Ring, then the air commodore attempting to murder him, and finally the air commodore being killed by arrows which seemed to come from somewhere above.

"James!" calls a familiar voice above on the outer wall of Minas Tirith, directly above him. However, James is still in shock, not paying attention to the world around him.

After a few seconds, Boromir says, "No answer? I shall be coming down then."

Boromir walks along the wall until he finds a staircase and descends it, and then exits the ruined gates and walks to where James is standing. Boromir finds James standing there, so he tries to say something to him.

"Are you all right?"

It takes quite some time for James to finish getting over the shock. "Until now, I thought I was prepared for everything. I never expected the highest ranking British officer here, Air Commodore Maxwell, to betray us like that."

James briefly glances at the lifeless body of the air commodore, thinking about how close he had gotten to death and how the air commodore possibly could have been manipulated like that.

"It was a good thing I came when I did," replies Boromir. "Had I not found you here on a morning walk, well, I probably would not be speaking to you right now."

"I don't really have anything to say except thank you," says James as he stares off into space, anywhere other than the air commodore's corpse.

Suddenly, James has an important realisation. "He must have gotten here somehow, that means—oh bollocks!"

James breaks into a sprint towards the direction where the air commodore came from, which catches Boromir off guard as he tries to follow James.

"What is it?" Boromir asks frantically.

"The air commodore could have only gotten here by plane. He wears glasses because of a vision problem he developed, so he isn't fit to fly. That must mean he forced someone to fly him here!"

Sure enough, James' suspicions are confirmed when he sees a Mosquito in the distance, parked with its engines off. He sees a pilot inside of the Mosquito, but the pilot appears to have a gun to his head, causing James to run even faster. As James enters the Mosquito through its hatch, he sees the pilot inside holding a revolver to his head, with the revolver shaking in his hand. The pilot is wearing a traumatised expression, showing a mixture of trauma and shock, with his eyes wide open and visible fear etched onto his face, not even paying attention to James as the pilot contemplates ending it there. As James reaches the pilot, the pilot realises that James is there, but before he can pull the trigger, James knocks the revolver out of the pilot's hand, causing it to land on the ground with a loud clank. James picks up the revolver and takes out all the bullets, then pockets the bullets and throws the revolver out the hatch.

"What in the bloody hell was that all about?" asks James, who is more confused than shocked.

"The air commodore—he went crazy!" shouted the pilot. "He started talking about this ring, and how he could use it to rebuild Britain here, and he put a gun to my head and forced me to fly here. He's still out there!"

Suddenly, Boromir enters the cockpit and says, "I ended his life. He was pointing a gun at James and threatening him, so I did what had to be done."

The pilot gains a less desolate mood and replies, "I'm grateful that he can't threaten me anymore, but there were things I saw that I... just... would rather die than have seen those things."

"Like what?" asks James.

"During that flight, while the air commodore was pointing his gun at my head, whenever I looked back at him, he didn't seem like himself. His eyes... they were sometimes pitch black, and he would sometimes mutter some weird chant in some unknown language, I didn't know what it was, but it made me shiver every time I heard it. What scared me the most was that sometimes, I would for like half a millisecond see this figure in black armor staring at me from the sky. I didn't know who he was, but he was just this figure that radiated pure evil, like I instantly knew it when I saw that figure, it made me sick to my stomach."

Oh no. This is not good, realises James. "Follow me!" he says as he pulls the pilot along, out of the Mosquito and onto the field, where he dashes towards the gates of Minas Tirith.

"Why?!" asks the pilot as they are running.

"No time to explain. We have to see Gandalf. He will have an answer for this."