"Shit."

  I looked at Rhiannon and suddenly realised something was different. "Since when did you have pointy ears?"

  If Rhiannon had been any other nut than the one I know her for, she would've looked at me strangely and start edging away. But instead she raised her hands to her ears, her eyes widening. "You're right- and you've got them too!"

  It was childish I know…but one minute you're human, then you're roadkill, then you're…pointy eared. I traced the point of my 'new' ears with curiosity, realising something else that should have been obvious before, but when avoiding being killed, just doesn't come to mind as the most important thing. "I don't remember wearing a backpack before..." I remarked, slinging it off my back.

  "We were carrying shopping bags," Rhiannon agreed, then grinned. "With chocolate."

  "Well, obviously coming here, to Middle Earth, we have changed…even if it is only slightly, and so our…" Damn, what a stupid theory. "Our shopping bags must have also."

  "Yay!" Rhiannon cheered. "As long as I've still got chocolate, it's all good…"

  She did. All seven blocks that she had bought at the store. She also had a beanie hat, gloves, tooth floss, a flute identical to her one back home, earplugs (oh the irony) and a beautiful evening gown. When she pulled the gown out from the bottom of the bag, the two of us gaping in awe, I noticed something fall onto the ground. I picked it up, and read the label before snorting, blushing and tossing them quickly to Rhiannon, like it was diseased or something.

  She looked down at it and her eyes watered, partly in embarrassment, partly in shock. "Condoms?" she breathed.

  I couldn't help giggling, it was so funny. "It makes you wonder what you're going to be doing that makes you require those."

  Her face was bright red. "Fuck that," she replied, quickly stuffing the box, the dress and other items back into the bag.

  "I imagine you'd much prefer a man."

  She glared at me, but I was still laughing, while red-cheeked myself. "Stop with the crappy puns."

  I continued to snigger.

  "Alright then. Let's see what you've got in your bag then?" she demanded.

  I stopped laughing. With a feeling of anxiety, I opened my backpack and took out the first item.

  "A pineapple!" Rhiannon giggled.

  "At least it's not a zucchini or a banana," I retorted, bursting out into giggles again.

  Along with a pair of earplugs, beanie hat and gloves for myself, the bag revealed that I also had a dog whistle, tin whistle (no, not like the PE teachers. It's almost like a recorder…comes from Irish Traditional music), a barf bag, coconut, bandages and…

  "HEE HEE HEE!" Rhiannon squealed.

  I didn't have a mirror, nor did I need one to know that my face was beetroot red right up to my pointy ears, as I looked at the lingerie I had just pulled from 'my' backpack. Several words came to mind in describing the various pieces of lingerie I had at the bottom of the pack. Alluring, attractive, revealing, kinky…

  "Sexy!" Rhiannon laughed without any concern for my feelings. "I wonder what you'll be doing that requires you to have those."

  I looked at the beanie hat and gloves, then down at my shirt. "Middle Earth. Women don't have any authority here. Nobody will listen to us." I remarked, non sequitor.

  "What?" Rhiannon blinked, coming out of her fit of laughter.

  I held up the beanie hat and gloves. "Coincidence that we both have a set of these? Coincidence that the hat will cover our Elven ears- and yes. That's what we are now. Elves. Although technically you're a little short…" One of these days I'll stop teasing her about being so much shorter. But I doubt that will be soon. "The gloves will hide the fact that we have…well, girlie hands. We can't help being female- so let's hide that."

  Rhiannon looked down at her chest. "Little obvious don't you think?"

  I looked around, spying the dead people and their plain clothes...

  "Don't even think about it," she warned me.

  "Alright. So just pray that whoever we meet is blind and won't notice. If there's a war on, we're screwed if they find out we're women. Unfortunately, in this case, it could be literally." I replied matter-of-fact.

  I pulled the gloves on and slammed the hat on my head, carefully pushing the points of my ears under the hat. Rhiannon reluctantly did the same. I heard her muttering, "Stupid pricks…if they dare try to even touch me…keel over on the ground bawling their eyes out…"

  I quickly threw all of the lingerie back in, covering it with the fruit, whistles, earplugs, bandages and barf bag. I looked up when I heard a sharp voice ordering something or other; there were a bunch of Hermes-wannabes riding up. They had wings on their helmets, and a tree with stars on their shields. The guy who seemed to be leading them looked at me first, but I was more interested in memorising the design on their shields…nice craftsmanship and design…

  Rhiannon beside me was talking to him, but I was just looking round at these Men trying to figure out who they were and all that. If I remembered correctly, they were the Men from the Last Alliance, the survivors of the Númenorean race.

  "Look, I haven't got time for your peasant problems! There's a war going on."

  Yes, the War of the Last Alliance…I wondered whether this guy might be Isildur. He would sure fit my description of it. Ugly, Man, Hermes-helmet, attitude problem, rude…

  As he went back to his shouting, Rhiannon looked at me with an expression that said, 'You're tall. And at this time, you're going to be a lot more reasonable in trying to dealing with this prick…'

  I sighed and spoke up more confidently than I was really feeling. In fact, I would rather have run away at that moment, but Rhiannon doesn't like backing down. And well, as her best friend, I don't have much choice but to back her up. I sure as hell didn't have any ideas of my own, and however much trouble Rhiannon's ideas seemed to get us in, it was preferable to wandering aimlessly because I'm too much of a coward to do anything myself. "Excuse me, sir," I said politely. "We're not supposed to be here, and as you seem to be in charge-" It sounded stupid even to me, but he didn't have to interrupt!

  "Then leave," the leader of the group snarled, not bothering to turn back around. Men, I have found, have a lack of manners and courtesy for women, regardless of what world they exist in. That's it; I'm sure women are a completely different species…

  Rhiannon grabbed my arm and dragged me aside before I could say anything else, 'cause that guy was really starting to piss me off. She whispered in my ear, "I need some height to deal with this problem. Care to give me a lift?"

  I knelt down and she climbed on my shoulders…don't let anyone fool you into thinking that because somebody is lacking in a foot of your own height that they weigh any less than you do. Geez, Rhiannon!

  It took some real strength- and stretching of muscles I knew were going to kill me the next day- to stand on my own feet, supporting her weight as well as my own. After that it got easier. I simply walked up to the guy and Rhiannon dealt with the rest of the impromptu plan.

  "Yo!" she shouted. The guy turned around looking for the kill, only to have Rhiannon's fist slammed into his face.

  Hee hee hee! You should've seen him fall! Not even my tremendous fall down the stairs (I'll tell you another time) could top the flight and pain of that guy falling on his arse! The noise accompanying it only added to the hilarity of the otherwise dangerous situation.

  My laughter died down as I realised he hadn't moved in the slightly. Oh, bugger, I thought. Rhiannon must've smashed his nose back into his brain…it's killed him. The only fact contrary to my guess was that his nose was still intact (despite the amount of blood rushing from it). At the very least, she must've knocked him unconscious.

  "Shit." Rhiannon and I said in unison. Apparently the same thoughts had occurred to her.

  One of these days, I'm going to talk to Rhiannon about her temper, impatience and recklessness. It gets us into so much trouble. Sure, I know it seems like I'm not doing much myself right now, but I prefer to observe and take in every aspect of the situation before I act. In short, I think first; Rhiannon just acts.

  My observation at this point was of the Hermes' captain's men starting to move into action, drawing swords and the like. Unconsciously, we began backing up. Running was a mutual agreement that neither Rhiannon nor I had to speak aloud to know we were going to do it if those guys came any closer.

  But as it turned out, running was unnecessary. Or rather, running was no longer as option. The guy sat up. Good news for us. His men relaxed somewhat; we were less likely to have to sprint for our lives. Then came the bad news. The Hermes Captain was majorly peeved with us. His first words were, "You!" (pointing at Rhiannon…well, hey! Maybe I could still get out of this…although I didn't relish the idea of being separated from my friend at this point in time). The look of false innocence on Rhiannon's face didn't help matters any. The dude's next words were "Seize them!"

  I suddenly found myself wishing this guy had stayed unconscious a little longer (I'm not much into killing, and I'm sure Rhiannon wouldn't really want to kill a person no matter how much of an arsehole he is), I mean, at least then we would've been able to run for it! But before we could put our mutual plan into action, we were surrounded. I've never been so scared. Not even my mother, scary as she is, would ever beat how frightening these guys were; my mother can't wield a sword!

  My overactive imagination thought back to all those stories I'd read about war-whores and women being raped and…oh shit. Execution, maybe? I tried to decide which one I'd prefer, then pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind. Maybe Rhiannon's big mouth could get us out of this; after all, she got us into it. I snorted at that notion, remembering the saying, Stupidity got us into this mess, why can't it get us out of it?

  A glance in Rhiannon's direction revealed she was just as scared as I was. Not apologetic, I might add.

  A length of rope was used to tie our arms around our waists. What? They were into bondage? Next thing I know, I'm being shoved on the ground. Ouch is all I can say about that. The sword at my throat was expected, but icy cold!? Oh well, my dilemma was answered. Execution was definitely on the cards. It made me angry. Who the hell did this guy think he was?

   The captain dude came over, snarling down at us, as we tried to look up and see what was happening.

  "You!" he growled. "You…!" Clearly he was a one-word man. Intelligent….especially in front of his men.

  "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" we retorted in unison. Reflecting on that moment, I should've kept my mouth shut. I mean, I was only the accomplice. Rhiannon was the one who punched the guy. And if she'd had stilts, I only would've been an innocent bystander…damn, that sounds stupid, even to me. We looked at each other, lying on our bellies as we were, and shared a grin. Shit, if our heads were gonna be chopped off, we might as well find something to laugh about!

  The guy's expression turned so red and so angry, you could've mistaken him for being constipated.

  To cut the crap short, we were dragged- yes, literally- back to their camp and to this guy's own boss. I knew we were in trouble then.

  I was astounded to find out, the captain dude's boss was none other than Isildur, Prince of Arnor and Gondor…were I not in such a mess, I would've been flattered to see this legendary prick that botched the history of Middle Earth.

  The captain dude explained the situation, as Isildur looked over us, giving a flick of his head to signal our guards to pick us off the ground.

  "Pray tell, from whence do you come?" Isildur asked, us after Captain Arsehole finished his overly dramatic tale. Wasn't he in the least bit embarrassed that Rhiannon had kicked his arse (metaphorically speaking) with a single punch to the nose? He was beaten by a woman! And a short one at that!

  "That Great Beyond," Rhiannon intoned in a voice so insincerely serious, I couldn't help but snort. I would've done more, but I didn't want to offend Isildur or incite him to punish us in any way.

  "And what business do you have here? There is a war, if you would care to look around."

  I can't remember exactly what I said, but according to Rhiannon I replied, "Beats the hell out of me, Hermes." If I did, that would explain the look of puzzlement on Isildur's face that only lasted a moment.

  He seemed to think little of my answer, whatever I said, for he then calmly questioned, "And where came upon you such garments as those you wear?"

  For a guy I know will turn out a prick, he was sure using (wasting) eloquent words on us. We looked down at our clothes, noting the massive difference between our clothes and theirs. We were still wearing our clothes from 'back home', Rhiannon's top still reading clearly, 'Good Kitties are Bad Kitties that don't get caught.' Unfortunately, Rhiannon is a bad kitty that gets caught far too often for peace of mind…

  I was much more thankful for my usual modest sense of dress; jeans and a loose t-shirt with my mother's extra large crimson flannel shirt over the top. For some that might be hillbilly costume, but for me, who had been getting hand me downs since I was a baby, it was comfortable. That's what I look for in clothes.

  Alright, got a bit sidetracked…I hate it when people insult my choice of clothing. It's my lack of choice that leads me to enjoy wearing what I have.

  Back to Ilsidur's question. What else could we say? "The store," we answered honestly in unison once again.     

  "What store?"

  "Several, actually," Rhiannon replied.

  Isildur reached for a pewter cup and filled it with wine, he looked thoughtful before drinking, and also after when he crushed the cup.

  My eyes widened. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!

  Even Rhiannon managed to curb her big mouth.

  He turned back to us. "You say you are from the 'Great Beyond'. Came you from Númenor, our lost land? Tell me, are there other survivors from that devastation? No news of such came to us in Rómenna before Númenor was taken back beneath the waters of the Great Sea of any others planning to escape."

  "Númenor, the island of Men that was destroyed by the Valar because some of the Men decided they wanted to go to Valinor despite being ordered not to?" I asked for clarification. I wasn't entirely sure everything had happened as in the Silmarillion, so this would indicate how much was true.

  Isildur slowly nodded his head, his expression one of remorse and sorrow.

  "Nope, haven't been there," Rhiannon shrugged.

  "Nor have I," I added. "But I heard of it."

  Isildur sighed wistfully. "Then 'tis true. It was too much to hope that there were others. We are the last of the blood of Númenor." He looked up at me, and I met his gaze for an instant before he moved back to the map on his table and ordered, "Take them away. Put them in one of the tents for confinement at this time. But do not harm them!"

  Knowing what he could have had done to us, and what we probably deserved, he was a man of honour. I knew then that the only reason he had not destroyed the Ring, was Man's weakness to the will of Sauron. I pity, the poor bugger.

  Captain Arsehole marched us out of Isildur's tent, pulling us roughly along. He was saying something nasty about us and that we should have shown more respect to the Prince; but I'm sure as hell not calling anyone 'Your Highness' or that sort, and I was respectful. Not to the utmost, but I do sort of feel sorry for Isildur.

  I thought about what the Silmarillion had told, regarding Númenor and the War of the Last Alliance, and felt saddened that so many of these Men would die, Men who did indeed have honour.

  I was no longer afraid. They would not kill us or rape us, nor would they leave us to the orcs' mercy; and that alone was small grace in the current situation Rhiannon and I had gotten into. But at the same time, I knew I didn't want to be; we didn't belong in the battlefield.

  At last we reached the tent where Captain Arsehole threw Rhiannon in, but I calmly entered by myself, surprising the uptight-captain. Rhiannon was inventing profanities when I walked in, but I felt much calmer, and knew that we would get away.

  Food and drink was brought to us before the captain left one of his men at each corner of the tent, so we had no chance to slip away without notice. Although frankly, I think we'd stand out with our weird clothes. The mud and dirt might hide some of it, but sure as hell not all.

  After finishing the food and drink- would believe we still had our bags with us? The morons didn't think to take them- we began brainstorming some ideas to escape when we had a visit from a couple of Elves.

  They were gorgeous! I tried not to let it show, but my eyes were watering they were so beautiful. I blinked it back and exchanged glances with Rhiannon who looked like she could've ravage the one who Elrond introduced as Glorfindel.

  "Hot damn!" we whispered in agreement.

  It was not hard to guess that hormones possessed Rhiannon's mind at that moment, as she put her hands on her hips- she might be able to get away with that provocative behaviour, but it's an uncomfortable matter for me- and she grinned wickedly. I sighed inwardly, knowing basically what to expect next. I shook my head, but couldn't help the grin spreading on my face as I watched her and her obvious flirtation.

  She circled the two Elves, raising eyebrows in a admiring expression of pleasing fascination. I could tell she was enjoying playing with the Elves as she did. As she walked behind Glorfindel she winked at me.

  I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to smother my amusement.

  "Fe," she stated, licking her lips. "I think I'm in love. You should feel the muscle of that ass!" As she ran her hand over Glorfndel's butt. He leapt into the air up and away from her, turning around to see her wicked grin grow.

  "I'll pass on that one," I replied, unable to contain my mirth any longer.

  "Oh come on," she pouted deceptively. "It's quite lovely."

  Elrond's expression was stern. Glorfindel seemed unable to find the reason and words for why he was there. "The High King Gil-galad wishes to speak with you both."

  I was astounded. Why would the High King of the Elves want to speak to us?

  "Good for him," Rhiannon interrupted my thinking. Doesn't she ever shut up?

  She gave him what she obviously believed was a sweet smile to win him over, but Elrond stood firm.

  It was at that point, her smile faded and her face took on this distinctly evil expression that I know to be her expression when she refuses to back down on something. A defiant stare, to be blunt.

  Glrofindel looked at me- probably worried I'd followed Rhiannon's example- but I just shrugged. I wanted to get out of here- alive- and by riling up Men and Elves, we were not going to achieve that.

  "The King is not to be disobeyed," Elrond growled, his tone ringing clear with warning.

  Glorfindel and I waited anxiously for them to do something further before we intervened. Now that I look back on it, I find it hilarious…Rhiannon is just over 5ft…Elrond is closer to 7ft. Seeing her trying to stare him down when she had to constantly look up at him, was hilarious. But at the time, I was more afraid she was going to get us into further trouble. It occurred to me later, that everyone was quite tall, and unlike back home, I would have little trouble finding males who were taller than me…you have no idea what it's like trying to dance with a guy who is only as tall as your stomach.

  "Who said he was our King?" she scowled back at him.

  Oh for Pete's sake, Rhiannon! Give up on it!...although I had to admit, she had a point. Yet at the same time, I would rather answer to somebody and worm my way out of trouble rather than blundering further into deep shit.

  I could see Rhiannon was starting to be intimidated by Elrond and his rather large height advantage in the staring contest. It's rather like watching a Jack Russell trying to beat down an Irish Wolfhound. Whoo!

  "Rhiannon," I said, threateningly. I flexed my fists next to my side, ready to drag her if need be. "Don't you think we could try to avoid trouble with at least one of the people here?"

  "Oh, probably," she answered, not taking her eyes of the Elf before her. "But at that moment I'm having too much fun."

  I could've punched her if I wasn't trying so hard to keep us from being separated. At that time, we only had each other who understood the exact situation we were in, and she was my friend; I had to stick by her, even when she was wrong and a complete idiot.

  I was about to pull her away when Isildur appeared at the tent entrance. The two kept their 'game' up a bit longer before Elrond looked to Isildur with a nod. Rhiannon's expression was smugly triumphant. Damn I wish somebody would win at her games! She was getting arrogant about her abilities. At about that time, I decided an escape was needed soon.

  Elrond, Glorfindel and Isildur conversed in the Elvish Language for some time before Rhiannon and I realised that none of them were paying attention to them.

  "Hey, Fe! Wanna get out of here?" she whispered quietly.

  Who would have thought she could come up with a good idea? Glancing back at the two Elves and Man, I grinned. They weren't looking at us. "Sure! No sudden movements though- it'll attract their attention."

  We picked up our backpacks and shimmied round them, to the tent flap and slipped out without them noticing. I was paranoid that they were going to realise too soon, or that the sentry would alert everyone to our imminent escape. But the tent flap remained closed and a glance at the bushes was enough to turn my face bright red, while I tried to hold down a snigger. The guard would not be any the wiser for our escape.

  Once we believed we were out of hearing distance, we rounded a few tent corners to put us out of sight…and we sighted the horses. Quickly back-pedalling, we sprinted in the direction of the horses. Thankfully there was no one around to see us; or our escape would have been short-lived.

  Rhiannon was quite fast, for a short person. Like a Jack Russell, really. Short legs, but quick when they want to be. As well as yappy- for which we'd already suffered the consequences. But it will never outmatch somebody who was built for running and sprinting.

  I slowed down a lot more quickly, as the easily excitable Jack Russell-Elf Rhiannon passed for a moment before realising that I was no longer with her. If she says she passed me while we were running- that's bullshit. She just didn't catch onto the fact it's really suspicious when two strange dressed Human/Elf-women are sprinting towards horses. I was walking a lot sooner than she, calming my fast-beating heart and slowing my breathing to help make the plan that I was about put into action credible.

  Rhiannon looked at me, understanding that I was in charge at this point in time. We didn't want to attract attention- and that was my specialty. She glanced nervously over her shoulder.

  When I reached the gates, I opened my mouth to say "Hey you!" because I saw a boy walking by. But what I actually said came out as, "Ho!" Embarrassed, I looked to Rhiannon who raised an eyebrow. I hoped my face wasn't too red, and that maybe I could convince her I'd meant to say it.

  She said nothing thankfully, but stood behind me as the boy came over. I had to admit- her top wasn't hiding her femininity very well. And that wouldn't help our plans to get out of here.

  "The Lords Elrond and Glorfindel wish us to fetch their horses," I gave a nod of my head, implying that I was the boy's equal. I was a few inches taller, and several years older, but he assumed my voice must have been breaking, making me around his age and with my baggy clothes, he couldn't really tell whether I was a woman or a man. Either way, he didn't question me.

  I have to confess, Elrond and Glorfindel have a brilliant eye for horses. The horses the boy led to us- already saddled and bridled; it seemed not even Elf-Lords rode bareback into war…probably to protect the horse as much as possible- had clearly been breed for beauty, speed and strength. They had succeeded.

  "What is you name?" I asked him.

  "Tom," he smiled.

  I returned the smile gratefully. "Thank you, Tom. I had expected to be saddling the Lords' horses myself. I put a hand on my chest and inclined my head in thanks.

  Tom blushed, not used to being treated so courteously.

  We led the horses back the way we had a come a little while Tom went about his business more fervently than before.

  Having been a horse-fanatic as a child, I knew exactly how to mount the horse, though Rhiannon struggled a little with height being her main problem. She had taken Glorfindel's horse, leaving me to the bay that seemed rather temperamental. I hoped not. I'd never actually ridden a horse properly before. To have one misbehave on me would be bad thing now.

  "Ho?" Rhiannon queried, mockingly.

  "It worked, didn't it?" I replied, trying not to blush.

  "How?"

  "Shut up!"

  She shook her head. "You're a nut."

  Like you can talk, Rhiannon.

  We turned the horses around, but I could barely convince the bay to walk. And I needed it to go a bit faster than that. Knowing Tolkien's stuff like the back of my hand, I said, "Noro lim!" And I was off! It didn't take Rhiannon to catch up, a momentary look of terror on her face revealed that she had not been ready for the fast gait anymore than I had. Fastest I'd ever been before was a canter. A flat fast gallop was quite frightening until you got used to it, and by then it was thrilling!

  We weaved through the camp easily and without resistance, as even the horsemen sent after us soon got left behind. We were free!