wellll, I'm not convinced I wrote this. It wrote itself. Or rather, Obi-Wan used the Force to make me write it. So please, review, and let me tell Obs what you all think. Please? *jedi hand wave* you will review...

Thanks for all of the reviews, follows, and favorites!

Chapter 5

To say the least, the city was daunting. The caves were large and vast, and he almost felt himself in awe of the meticulous carvings of the walls and pillars. He was not noticed, just another unimportant shadow that slipped from place to place, inconspicuous in the bustle of people.

The Force was strange, here. Not so much in the fact that it echoed everything in these caves, or even that many of these elves had very bright Force-signatures, but rather because it was so- alive. It buzzed with action, and were it not for his shields he would have most likely been tempted to jump up and shout from the sheer need for action.

But he was not here for sightseeing. He was here for answers. Ones that he wanted to find out as soon as possible. Obi-Wan needed a purpose. It was gnawing at him, eating away at him, shoving him to do something, setting a fire in him that he had never known before. It was like the flame of humans, he thought to himself.

Mortal flame, that burns so brightly and fiercely, and then goes out in a gust of wind. He needed something to live for.

Even in the other galaxy, world, he had had his purpose. To learn, and to put that learning into use. Gain knowledge, and through knowledge gain wisdom. Yes, it was a simple enough task, but time consuming and endless. But he had finished it nonetheless, else he would not be here now, would he?

So yes, he needed a purpose. Surely he could put his skills to good use here. If Melkor was breeding such foul things for evil purposes, then will the elves not have need for defense? His skills were much in demand.

But first, he needed to find the head of authority. And second, he needed a good explanation for his... abilities, to say the least. Not mentioning his outer visage, and myriads of other things that made his temples throb at the mere thought of it. Obi-Wan sighed to himself, leaning against a wall.

He watched elves pass by, going about their business. Their beautiful faces, rich, elegant clothes, smooth, musical speech that he knew as well as Basic Arubesh, also known as Westron or Common Speech here. Elvish.

He assumed he was an elf. Of course he was an elf. There were his pointed ears and natural (albeit suppressed) glow to prove it. Funny how he felt different somehow, though. Ever since he came here his feelings have been in turmoil.

With a sigh he jacked himself off of the wall and slipped into yet another shadowy area, using the Force to try to locate some kind of throne room. Maybe he could petition some guard to see the King? What was his name? Finrod Felagund, yes. Findárato.

Funny name. Obi-Wan snorted quietly to himself. As if he was one to talk. No doubt these elves would think his name utterly abominable. Obi-Wan Kenobi indeed. Well, he shall have to use some other name instead, shouldn't he? Daelas. That is what the trees had called him. Well then, he would be known as that, then. Daelas.

Ah. He finally made his way into the right hall, where the throne room lay beyond and two guards guarded the doors. He strode up to them and they crossed their spears, eying him warily.

"What is your business with the King?" One of them spoke up firmly.

"My name is Daelas, and I wish to have an audience with your King." He paused. "I am in need of a place to stay, and in exchange would be willing to offer my services." He hazarded carefully. The guards exchanged glances with each other.

"You may not go before the King armed, nor can you go clad in such a concealing fashion." One of them demanded. His lips twitched, and he pulled back his hood.

"As you wish." He handed them his weapons one by one. Throwing stars, throwing daggers, bow and arrows, the two small vials of poison. "Would these be considered weapons, or may I pass with them? They are rather dear to me." He patted his lightsabers as the guards looked taken aback at the sheer amount of weapons he carried.

They gave each other another glance. "You may keep them." They shrugged, and the doors opened, one of them escorting him in.

A throne sat at the head of the room, set upon a dais. Several lesser chairs were also set up, and presumably advisors and lords sat upon them. Attention turned to them immediately as they entered, and all murmurings hushed in interest and anticipation at the darkly-clad figure. Dirty-blonde hair cascaded down his back, braided in a strange fashion, and violet eyes caused many wary glances and whisperings.

The guard bowed. "Your majesty Finrod Felagund, I present to you Daelas." Then he promptly left back to the doors. Obi-Wan paused, bowing politely from the waist and waiting for any words to allow him to speak, face carefully blank with practiced ease.

The elf on the throne smiled, albeit a tinge of wariness in his bright blue eyes. Light blonde hair and a fair, white face crowned with a silver circlet completed the King of Nargothrond, great and fair elven city.

"And what, pray tell, brings such an ellon to my kingdom?" Finrod's voice was polite and unreadable.

"I come from far, my lord, escaping many troubles and seeking shelter. I have no place to go, for I am a wanderer, of no land and of no clan or tribe. Where my family is I do not know, for they have left me long ago. I wish to stay here, if your majesty would permit it, and in exchange would give you my services as vassal to your highness." Obi-Wan replied smoothly, years of diplomatic practice coming into play.

Several councillors leaned towards the King and murmured. Finrod's lips pursed slightly but otherwise gave no sign. "What is your name, fair traveller, and how come you hence to my city? You are fair of speech and have noble bearing." Was the smooth answer. Obi-Wan nearly quirked an eyebrow. Noble bearing? He should think so!

"My name is now long lost, my lord, strange and foreign to your ears- but I am often called Daelas. Such is my name. I come to the fair Nargothrond because I have heard much of it and would wish to live here if anywhere. My speech is from years of practice, for I was once a lord of high standing, heir to great things- but all is lost now, and my life has come to naught. I seek purpose, and would hope to be granted a new start in your great kingdom." He replied in all honesty. Was it not true, if just a vague sketch of his life?

Finrod studied him for a moment. "I sense no lie in you." Obi-Wan nearly snorted. If he wanted to he could use the Force to make this elf believe anything he said, no lie his eye. "But tell me, Daelas, of what- profession- are you? And why should you give them in service to me?" Finrod raised his fair eyebrow. For the first time, Obi-Wan smiled. And it was a rather disconcerting smile as well.

"Ah... The one answer has to do with the other, my lord." Was his slightly amused reply. "And I will answer them out of order. Firstly, why do I offer my services? Because my profession is the type of which it is meant to serve another, and not be used entirely for itself. If I do not have someone to serve, then my skills are all a waste. Secondly, what is my profession? I will readily admit it, though perhaps I shall regret it for your reaction." He paused and surveyed the King for any answer.

A glint appeared in Finrod's eyes, and he recognized it. It was the glint of someone who has found a kindred spirit in another, the glint of one who sees something that he likes. "Bold words, for a stranger. But I am pleased. You may, perhaps, displease us with your answer, but seeing that you are being completely truthful, I see no reason why you should not be given an opportunity to prove yourself." Was the vague answer.

He smiled again. "Then I thank the King for his generosity in his words. My profession is least known among the guild of the warriors, and least used, I do believe. And never have my skills harmed any of the free folk, elves or otherwise, of Arda. I am an assassin." He said calmly, and the reaction was better then he expected.

There was a startled silence for a moment, and then an armed ellon beside the King suddenly spoke. "Oh? Then how is it that we do not know that you are here to- assassinate- our King?" He spat.

Finrod raised a hand. "Now, Laurendil, you speak out of turn." He said sternly. "If he would have been sent to do such a deed I would be dead by now, I am sure." He said dryly, and the ellon blushed, murmuring apologies. Obi-Wan smiled.

"True enough, my lord." He said amiably. "But I have no intentions of doing so. Rather I would ask to serve you with my skills and make sure of the very opposite."

Finrod studied him again. "I see in you a clean, pure feä." He murmured, almost to himself. "Almost like that of-" he cut himself off and stirred slightly.

"What sort of position do you seek, and what sort of skills do you have?" Finrod asked with genuine curiosity.

"I seek any position to be found, be it that of a simple warrior in your ranks. It is purpose enough. As for my skills... They are many, my lord, and difficult to explain. Though it can be done, it would take many days." Was Obi-Wan's reply.

"Well then, Daelas, I would hear what you have to say, in due time. You shall be given a room in the palace, and I shall call for you on the morrow to hear of your skills. Is this pleasing to you?" Finrod asked formally. His lips twitched slightly.

"Of course, my lord. I thank you for your kindness to me." Obi-Wan replied with a bow, and a guard led him away. He could sense, however, many skeptical thoughts from the rest, and the burning gaze that pierced his back as the stone doors boomed shut behind them.

As he retrieved his weapons, however, he took comfort in the thought that the Force was pleased and suffered himself to be led to his room. He refused to linger on the thought that Finrod Felagund, King of Nargothrond, had mind shields that were worthy of those of a Force-user.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

He had spent the night in meditation, not seeking to do anything else. He had no need for sleep. He had no need for rest. If he truly had to, he did not need to eat either. But he did, usually, if only to keep some semblance of normality. As if he really needed to. He was anything but normal.

So all night he had consulted with the Force, weighing this and that choice, determining what was the best way to tell the King all the information he needed to know of the Force, and galaxies, and all these things. And he had come to an answer in the early hours of the morning.

Plum purpose eyes opened and he smiled, standing to his feet and pleased with the results of his endeavors of the night. The room was simple but comfortable, with a large feather bed, wardrobe, and a table and chair. Tapestries decorated the walls and comfortable rugs littered the floors as a fire burned in the grate by the table, seeing eerie flickers onto the stone ceiling.

He had seen worse. His personal room in the Star Forge had not contained this much. He never changed clothes unless they were dirtied or soiled, for he rarely needed to shower or bathe. He almost never ever sweat, really.

There was a knock at the door, and he raised a hand to wave it open when he checked himself. That would not do. So he stood and came to the door, opening it. A maid stood there with a small smile, carrying a tray.

"This is for you, my lord." She said politely, handing him the tray with a small curtesy. He took it and inclined his head.

"Thank you." He said absently, and shut the door as she scurried away. On the tray was a bowl of fruits and a piece of parchment wrapped in a red ribbon and sealed with the king's seal.

With a frown he sat at the desk and took a bite of the fruit, cracking open the seal and opening the missive. It contained a summons to meet the King, and he was informed that a guard would come to escort him to his destination when it was time.

With a sigh Obi-Wan stood and made sure he still had every one of his weapons and 'sabers, that his cloak was properly draped and that he had all that he needed. So with a nod once he was sure, he sat down to await the time, slipping into light meditation and mapping the entire city in his mind.

An hour later, there was a knock at the doors, and he answered it. Laurendil from the day before, was there, and despite the lack of emotion on his face Obi-Wan could sense the unease and suspicion radiating off of him in waves. He just shrugged to himself and followed the ellon after a polite greeting, hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe and hood thrown over his face.

He did not blame the soldier for being suspicious. If he weren't then Obi-Wan would have been worried, to be honest. He was led to a door and Laurendil entered, leading him to a large table where the King sat alone. Laurendil took guard next to him as Finrod looked up. Obi-Wan bowed.

"Ah. Good morning, Daelas. Please, sit." He was motioned into a chair across the table and he pulled down his hood and sat.

"You say that it would take many days to learn about you." Finrod's eyes glittered. "Well, I am assuming that if I am to have a personal assassin as bodyguard that I should know all about him. Hence the privacy. You shall be working along with Laurendil if I find you to be worthy."

Obi-Wan smiled. "Thank you, my lord. Yes, I have a great many things to tell, and I shall tell you all. But I ask you to humor me, my lord. I believe it would be easier if I write all of it down in a book, to be read in a story, so that it may be agreeable and I shall not have to repeat myself many times over. My tale is a strange one, and perhaps many would find it enjoyable to read it as a story." He gave the King a keen look.

Finrod seemed to think it over, staring at him. "Very well." He finally answered. "I shall humor you. If I have any questions then I shall ask them of you in private after I have read it." He decided.

"Of course, my lord. I shall answer all as best I can." Obi-Wan replied.

"For an assassin, you seem to be free with information." Laurendil spoke up, and he chuckled.

"Despite what the title implies, I have nothing to be ashamed of. Never have I killed or harmed an innocent, and all my kills have been in protection for the side of good." He answered, voice clearly amused. "Why should I be afraid to hide such things?" He asked dryly.

Finrod's lips twitched. "Indeed, Laurendil, why should he?" He asked rhetorically. "And contrary to popular belief, I can judge for myself." The tone the sentence was spoken in was mild, and that made the rebuke all the worse.

Laurendil looked chagrined. "My apologies, Aranya, I meant nothing of the sort." Was his mutter. Finrod smiled genuinely.

"I know it, Laurendil." Was his only enigmatic answer. And Obi-Wan was given a stack of parchment and a quill pen to write with. And so he began, writing as the Force guided his pen and looked over his shoulder, murmuring words into his ears.

In a galaxy far, far away...