Strange Alliances

by Erestor

Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to The Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, or the Harry Potter series. This story was written for entertainment purposes only.

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CHAPTER TWELVE

'They heard of the Great Barrows, and the green mounds, and the stone-rings upon the hills and in the hallows among the hills.'

- J.R.R. Tolkien, 'The Fellowship of the Ring'

Nienna was trying to pry Mandos's non-fiction book from him. Mandos had a death grip on it, and he wasn't letting go. He hadn't even stopped reading it. "We have to save the world, Námo!" Nienna cried, tugging.

"So, what do you want me to do?" asked Jennifer, trying to ignore the dramatic scene, since everyone else was.

"Whatever you write on this computer device," said Lórien, " will come true in Middle-earth."

Fëanor had been watching them with a rather blank expression, and now he said, "What are you talking about?" in suspicious tones, as though he were wondering if the others were plotting against him. Fëanor kept in mind that this was always a possibility.

"Would you write something that would allow Fëanor to understand what we're saying?" asked Lórien.

Jennifer typed Fëanor spoke English into the computer, and instantly, it was so. This assuaged doubts of Jennifer's that she had been too polite to put into words.

"Can you understand me?" asked Lórien experimentally.

"Yes," said Fëanor in English. He felt as though he were defiling his tongue by speaking such a clumsy, uncouth language, but at least now he knew what was happening.

"Mandos has sprained his ankle," said Lórien. "Could you mend it?"

Wow, it's like I have magic powers, thought Jennifer to herself. She typed something quickly, and Mandos stopped reading, letting go of the book in his surprise. Nienna tumbled over backwards with a dismayed squeak and Mandos gave Jennifer a brief nod of thanks, the book mercifully forgotten.

"We need you to write something that will stop bad things from happening to history," said Nienna, getting off the floor with a pained smile and turning to Jennifer.

"Bad things?" echoed Jennifer, remembering the subject of Middle-earth, and trying to look intelligent, as behooved someone who had just healed a Vala's injuries.

"Chaotic things," said Nienna. "How would you like it if you lived in a place where you had one personality one day, and another the next? How would you like having your name change in spelling at unexpected moments? How would you like going on an innocent hunting trip, only to have it inevitably end with you being tortured, lost, or badly wounded?"

"Er... I don't think I would like that," said Jennifer. "But how can I stop those things from happening?"

"You cannot," said Mandos. It was the first time he had spoken. He had a faint frown on his face as he considered the situation.

"What do you mean?"

"The next thing anyone wrote in their computer device would destroy any protection this woman writes into existence," said Mandos. "Have we not seen that happen already?"

"True," said Fëanor, eager to add his thoughts to the discussion. "If whatever she wrote were final, history would never have been rewritten in the first place. It would have been impossible."

Mandos nodded.

"So what can we do?" asked Nienna.

"We can write something that others will not even know about," said Mandos. "If they do not realize it is there, they will be unable to change it."

That made sense. Jennifer, Fëanor, Nienna and Lórien all nodded wisely in agreement.

"What will we make for them?" asked Jennifer.

"A safe place," said Mandos, "somewhere where they will not have to undergo a continually changing history."

"Then what will become of Middle-earth?" asked Lórien.

"We could make it so that they could enter Middle-earth at will," said Nienna. "That way, they would have both a safe place, and their homes."

This plan was agreed upon. They turned to Jennifer, and she winced. "Guys, I hope you realize that previously all I've written were humor stories about hobbits!"

"Humor stories about hobbits?" asked Nienna skeptically.

"Yes," said Jennifer. "Like Frodo comes home one day and Sam has painted his hobbit hole pink. That sort of humor."

It did not sound very amusing to Mandos. But perhaps the style of the story was what counted. Mortals had such an unusual sense of humor.

The three Valar and the Elf looked at Jennifer reproachfully, and she gave a nervous giggle. "Of course, I can try my best," she said.

"Yes," said Nienna.

"Now, what sort of safe place do you want?" asked Jennifer.

"An organized one," said Mandos, and Lórien said, at the same time, "One much like Middle-earth."

"Big?"

"Yes. Very big," said Nienna. "It is for everybody."

It was two hours later.

More people had entered the library since it had first opened, though they had steered clear of the Kiddie Korner. Sauron, telling his story to Benny and Sammy, ignored the horrified looks of shocked mothers and continued unperturbed. For years, he had been longing to tell someone the facts of history from his point of view. Everyone had neglected to think about his point of view.

Until now.

Benny and Sammy were getting quite an introduction to the history of Middle-earth.

Despite having spent the past couple of hours enjoyably, Sauron could not help but beam at Lórien as he came into view. He had never imagined he would be so glad to see a Vala. "Are you done?" he asked eagerly. "Will the woman take back her children now?"

"I'm sure she will," said Lórien. He looked around the section of the library so tritely titled 'The Kiddie Korner'. There was no blood anywhere. Benny and Sammy seemed quite happy, and not like the traumatized victims of a Dark Lord's anger. Sauron's bright smile had been unnerving, though. "How did you keep them so quiet?" Lórien asked.

"I told them stories," said Sauron innocently, standing, snatching up his tea-cozy (of which he seemed to have become oddly fond), and dusting off his robes.

"Stories?"

"About Elves."

"Oh. That's nice."

"And about me."

"Oh," said Lórien. "Oh dear."

"Do not worry, my good Vala. I left out as much of the graphic violence and bloodshed as possible. Which wasn't a lot, sadly."

"Oh."

Fëanor appeared by Lórien's shoulder, and Benny and Sammy emitted screams of pure terror and cowered behind the beanbag chairs. Sauron grinned evilly. "Lord Fëanor," he said, "I have found a book that might amuse you."

Lórien watched with bemusement as Sauron handed Fëanor a thin, hard-cover book. The Maia's slitted eyes sparkled with wicked glee. "Better run," he said to Lórien, and hurried away, holding Benny and Sammy's hands and tugging them along.

Lórien decided that it would be wise to follow Sauron's example. As he dashed after the Maia, Fëanor's indignant shouts of rage echoed in his ears all too clearly.

"What was that book?" asked Lórien curiously.

"The Elfs and the Shoemaker," said Sauron. "Fascinating book. These mortals are so... ignorant. It's terrible."

"You don't look that upset," observed Lórien.

Sauron shrugged. "I'm not. It's their problem."

"Mummy!" shrieked Sammy, letting go of Sauron's hand and trotting over to Jennifer. Sammy babbled incoherently for a while, and Jennifer cuddled him affectionately, casting wary glances in the direction of Sauron. She had not been very keen on letting the Dark Lord look after her precious offspring, but they didn't seem the worse for wear.

"So," said Sauron, "is the world saved?"

"We think so," said Nienna. "We have created a safe place, hidden from anyone who would try to remove such a sanctuary from history. It is only accessible by way of the Barrow-downs."

"Why the Barrow-downs?" asked Sauron.

"There was already a lot of ancient power around there," said Lórien, "which we put to good use."

"And apparently it is a quiet, out-of-the-way spot where few would venture," said Fëanor.

"How are the inhabitants of Middle-earth going to find this place, then?" asked Sauron.

A few meaningful looks were exchanged. Then Nienna said, "We shall have to enter Middle-earth and show them the way."

Sauron sniggered. "You're going to turn up in Middle-earth, claiming to be Valar, and claiming to be able to lead everyone to a safe haven?"

"No," said Lórien. "We shan't claim to be Valar. We'll be subtle. We'll show everyone what we're talking about, instead of making ludicrous claims."

Sauron was still sniggering.

"You won't remember any of this," said Nienna, "so enjoy it while you can."

Sauron smiled. "Believe me, the thought of forgetting this experience does not worry me in the slightest. I just want to go home. So I can reconquer it."

Jennifer was not really listening to the conversation. She was holding Sammy on her lap, and making the preparations for sending the Valar to Middle-earth. It was simple. All she had to do was write a short story about herself, in a library, discovering a portal behind the Fantasy Section. Creating a whole sub-universe for all the people of Middle-earth had been a lot more difficult, even if the Valar and Fëanor had helped.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked.

"Are you ready to go?"

Gimli glanced up into Legolas's sapphire eyes. Legolas was holding a hammer in one hand, and had a carefully nonchalant look on his face that gave away some of the pride and excitement the Elf was feeling. Legolas had built a beautiful ship. It had taken many years, but Legolas had done it, and now it was time to depart Middle-earth.

"Yes, I'm ready," said Gimli gruffly. Gimli was only capable of speaking gruffly, but in bittersweet occasions such as this one, the gruffness in his tone became even gruffer.

Legolas smiled. "Let's sail these seas, you and I."

Gimli scrambled on board the ship, and Legolas followed, casting one last look back at the trees of Ithilien. He was not sad to leave, not when he was looking forward to Valinor so much, but still...

The ship slipped away from the shore...

And time looped...

and circled back...

and back...

and back...

until suddenly...

Legolas was no longer standing proudly on the bow of his ship, bound for Valinor, but was instead ducking wine bottles, which his father was flinging at his head with great skill and enjoyment. And Legolas, though his memories told him he was used to this unkind treatment, was suddenly filled with the deepest regret, as if he had come very close to doing something, and had fallen short of it.

Again.

At the moment that time had looped, the Fëanturi, Nienna, Fëanor and Sauron had all been stepping into the portal behind the Fantasy section, and Mandos had been realizing that Fëanor did not belong in Third Age Middle-earth, but in his Halls.

Unfortunately, this realization came too late.

Mandos's next realization came too late as well.

TBC...