John sat down, relaxing onto a log which lay behind him. Even though he came down gently, the moss-covered wood still creaked and groaned as half a tonne of soldier compressed onto it. He looked down at the moaning, deathly pale hobbit lying next to him. Pulling some more bedding cloth out from under his armour, he began performing the standard task of replacing his wound's dressing, preventing the spread of infection best he could without the use of medicines.

Strider had said he would become one of the creatures he'd fought. What the hell could do that? Some kind of biological agent? Had he never encountered the Flood, John would have never believed such an assertion. However he did not have such fortune. He knew terrible horrors like the Flood existed. He was willing to believe the man, as outlandish as his claim would have appeared to anyone else.

Besides, the lad was certainly showing textbook signs of some kind of infection. His breath was sharp and irregular. As was his tiny, fast-beating heart. But more unusually, his core temperature was dangerously low. It was as if something was syphoning the life out of him. And action needed taking.

"Pippin. Pass me your coat."

The hobbit all but jumped at the sudden call of his name. But other than that made no response. Shocked stiff, and confused by the Spartan's order.

"Frodo needs it more than you do. We need to keep his body temperature stable."

Pippin looked at his suffering friend. Then back at the Chief. With a nod, he understood. His caring nature overpowering his fear and mistrust of the threatening metal man. He came quickly over, un-knotting his straps, removing his hooded cloak and with Chief's help they wrapped Frodo inside it. Then he scurried back away, to where his friend was sat. And the glade was still and silent once more.

"You know he's a timorous beastie to be sure. But that act took a hell of a lot of courage." Cortana noted. And she was correct. These people had zero reason to trust him. Desperation was the single reason they'd allowed his help them at all. Pippin was tiny, child-like. Astonishing to think he was an adult. A Spartan could kill him with an accidental slap. And yet the boy, knowing all that, had approached him still. To help his friend.

The Master Chief gave a deep sigh, looking at the grass below his feet. So far, this had not been a good day. Then again, he couldn't actually remember the last 'good' day he'd had.

"Uhm, Mr Spartan sir?" A timid voice asked, breaking the silence of the night. John looked up, and saw that Pippin was approaching him, rather nervously at that. He was pretty scared, and was looking at John as if he was about to turn into some fierce beast and tear his head off! His friend Merry was watching them both warily, from a distance.

"May I...eh, ask you something?" He enquired hesitantly. John nodded in reply, but this only seemed to make the little hobbit more nervous. "Uhm, If you, err, don't mind me asking, sir...whatsaspartan?" Saying these last words so quickly that even Chief missed them.

"Pardon?" He replied, a little amused by the inquisitive hobbit. "Calm down Pippin, I am not going to hurt you. I promise." He was trying to be nice. The hobbit was so small, so vulnerable looking. Scared witless, knowing the danger that had almost killed them would soon return. He had to reassure them somehow.

John knew that talking always helped take a person's mind off bad situations. And whilst he never made unnecessary conversation himself, he knew that the hobbits needed uplifting. They were not soldiers, just frightened civilians thrust into a wide and dangerous world. He would try his best with them.

Pippin was no more than a stride away from him. John placed a large hand on the inquisitive Hobbit's shoulder. Who amazed by how gentle it was, finally began to relax. "What's a Spartan?" He asked again, far more clearly than before. "I overheard you and Strider talking about them!" There was a pause, as the Spartan looked up into the canopy above them and thought about what he was going to say next.

"A person" Chief began to say, "Who has been changed into a powerful warrior." The young hobbit wouldn't understand what a super-soldier was. Chief wasn't sure this person even had a concept of soldierly yet. He didn't want to give too much information away. And classified was classified. But Pippin, of course, had many more questions to ask him.

"I asked before if there were others. You said there were, but that most aren't any more. What happened to them?" His voice was filled with a mix of wonder, and a little concern. He was wondering what in Arda it took to bring down a band of seven foot tall warriors. Strong as Olyphants, wielding giant armoured suits and magic energies that protected them from harm! What could possibly defeat them?

Before Chief could utter so much as a syllable, the little hobbit came and sat right next to him. Pippin was starting to trust him. Between himself and the wraiths, John was the only safety he had.

Now though, Chief wasn't quite sure what to do. Wasn't used to the intimacy. He'd never found himself in this situation before. Cortana was reading the situation, and noticing that John's heart rate started to increase a little, intervened. "Pippin seems to feel safe around you Chief. Maybe you could go somewhere with that?" John didn't have any better ideas, and decided to go with that.

"Not scared of me anymore, are you?" He joked. Pippin blushed a little, and just smiled and nodded. Cortana smiled warmly at this. "Good Chief! Keep going!" she needed to praise and encourage him. Pippin wasn't the only one who needed reassuring. Cortana was starting to see another side to John. Not as a Spartan, but as a human. As a person.

Keeping the conversation going, Chief decided to lead with a small lie, then go on from there. It was for the best. "My people live off to the east. Thousands of leagues from here." He remembered how Cortana had told him about the volcanic lands, and the mountain ranges after that. The nearby lands were filled with forests and lush grasslands. To the west of the volcanic plains were ice-covered mountains and wide open plains. To the east there were deserts. He didn't know what was beyond this, The Dawn had only been able to see so much. But he knew that the deserts had to end eventually. To be replaced by what?

"Mine was a…country of prosperity and potential." He began to say. He had guessed there was no one around here who had knowledge of such territories, seeing the blank look that he was getting from the hobbit. "My people were wise, and were capable of doing much good. Then war came, and my people fought against a civilization called the Covenant." Chief stopped abruptly. He couldn't believe that he was talking about the war in this way!

Pippin realised with a rush of excitement that Chief was starting to tell a story. He loved stories! He stopped and thought for a moment, reflecting on what Chief had told him so far. "What does a covenant look like Chief?" He asked the Spartan innocently. Cortana laughed a little, she could see how easily Pip might have thought that!

Before he could continue, John then saw Merry. The hobbit had gotten up from his hiding spot. He was coming over now! He seemed to be gathering an audience. Meriadoc didn't trust the Spartan yet. Why should he after all? But he was intrigued, and had his own questions to ask him.

"Begging your pardon, Mr Chief sir." He began, feeling as nervous as his cousin. "You wouldn't happen to have come from that fallen star, now would you?" He wasn't believing his story about coming from a distant land, and had already invented his own theories about the mysterious warrior.

The Spartan's olive-green helmet cocked to the side upon hearing this statement. "Fallen star?" Then he realised that Merry had to be referring to The Dawn. "No" He lied. It would be pointless saying yes. He wanted to shut the hobbits up, not to inspire a hundred games of twenty questions.

He checked to see if Frodo was stable. For the moment, he seemed to be. At least his condition didn't seem to be growing worse. Serious, but stable. So Chief continued the story. It would keep the inquisitive hobbits quiet until Strider returned. "The Covenant is not one species Pippin. The Covenant are a unified people, seven races cooperating under a single, dangerous belief." Pippin and Merry were fascinated. Merry asked him a question first.

"I assume you mean a religious belief. What was that?" Religious fanaticism was not something found in the Shire. It was a good question From Merry, Chief realised. It showed wisdom, and displayed an eagerness to learn. But, it was a hard question to come up with a good answer to.

"The Covenant were led by one of the seven species. They called themselves Prophets. The Prophet's believed that their race was special, that some greater destiny awaited them. That one day, they would go on a great journey, where they would become one with their gods. They called their gods forerunners, people who had once shaped the...world to their choosing." It was hard to put these details into terms that they would understand.

"The forerunners had the power to shape mountains, move oceans and move the stars. They were not the only beings to live above, and they had fought with...demons, demons who wished to steal the world from them. These demons were called the Flood, and they wanted to use the world for their own terrible reasons." He watched as Pippin shivered a bit. "Even their name sounds frightening!" The young lad thought to himself.

"The forerunners created weapons that would defeat the flood. The weapons would destroy them completely...but do so at a terrible cost." Chief was struggling here himself. The UNSC still knew so little about the Forerunners, and half of what they did know was down to him and Cortana alone.

"The weapons were so powerful that they could destroy all life in the world. Even the forerunners themselves would be killed. Once that they had ensured that life would survive the cataclysm, they used the weapons. In the long run, this allowed the flood to be destroyed." From a certain point of view, Chief wasn't actually lying to them. Chief had the hobbits on the 'edge of their seats'!

"The Prophets believed that the forerunners hadn't been destroyed, but had ascended to a greater plain of existence. They wanted to ascend as well. But they were fools. Their belief was wrong, the weapons only purpose was to destroy the flood." It was quite pitiful, in a way. How misguided they had been.

"My people eventually encountered the Covenant. We rejected the teachings of the Prophets. They had no right to force their beliefs onto us. They were ruthless, and our resistance lead to all-out war. The Covenant were strong, stronger than we were. They had better weapons, and many of their species were more powerful than humans. It was not a war of conquest. These monsters wanted to exterminate my people. Wipe us out completely. Worst of all, we were losing!"

It was difficult for him to talk to them about this. The war had ended years ago, but for him, the pain and grief was still very near. The hobbits looked horrified enough just hearing all this, they'd never heard of something so terrible. Genocide was practically unheard of amongst the free peoples. Nothing in the history of the word had wrought as much death as the Covenant had.

"Out of desperation, we started to create new weapons. Most deadly, were the Spartans. We Spartans were mightier than everything the Covenant possessed. But our numbers were too few to win the war by ourselves. Nor was anything else we created enough to stop them. My people knew that they would eventually be destroyed. We needed a miracle...and against all odds, a miracle happened." He stopped, he needed to think. What should he say next? The details were difficult to put into context.

"What miracle Chief? What happened?" Merry asked. He was completely lost in the story now, and his theories had been blown out of the water completely.

"Some races of the Covenant were well read and wise. We could never understand why they accepted the Prophets without question. Then, a hero emerged. A being called the Arbiter, learned of the truth, that the Prophets were liars. He learned that ascension itself was a lie. It shattered what faith he had. He told the rest of his race what he had learned. His revelations divided his people, between those who were loyal to their own kind, and those who were loyal to the Prophets."

Merry and Pippin felt for him, they really did. Whether or not this tale was true or not, it was obviously one of tragedy and heartbreak. They had heard tales of war and conquest before, but none of them in quite this way. "What happened then Chief?" Merry asked, as sensitively as he could. He sensed that much of this story was based on true events.

"This conflict within the Covenant erupted into outright civil war. The Arbiters race was a people called the sangheili, and they were arguably the most important members of the Covenant. They lead their armies into battle, and were one of the most numerous and mighty of the races. The Prophets were physically frail, and needed the other species, like the sangheili, to succeed. Their holy crusade against my people was stopped in its tracks once they rebelled. Sensing weakness, we formed a truce with the Arbiter and his people, forgiving the evils they had committed. Survival was more important than any grudges held." Chief himself couldn't believe that they had done this so easily. Desperation was powerful indeed.

"In one final battle, we met the Covenant on the field...and we won. The Prophets power over their people was broken, and while they would continue to believe in the great journey, the others would not. Some of them had never believed, and had been cruelly enslaved by the prophets long ago. A great betrayal occurred, and many of the Prophets' leaders were assassinated. Fearing for their lives, the remaining members fled, and remain hidden to this day. The Arbiter then lead his people away, back to their homeland, where his race could live out in peace. My people also began to re-build. An era of cooperation between humans and sangheili had now begun..."

He was almost tempted to say, 'And we all lived happily ever after!' Cortana was beginning to have a bad influence on him! The two hobbits meanwhile were left in complete silence. They almost didn't know what to say.

"That...is...THE GREATEST STORY I HAVE EVER HEARD!" Exclaimed a very giddy Pippin, if a little insensitively. Merry was calmer, trying to make sense of the story. "That's a lot to take in Chief! How much of the story is true?" John thought for a little while.

"Spartans, like myself, were created. There was a war, and all the Covenant species and the Arbiter exist. That was what the Prophets and their followers believed in: Whether or not the forerunners and their weapons existed or not...might never be known...it was a silly belief after all!" He was lying to them, but with good reason. He didn't want to start the Covenant all over again. With sheer fright, John realised there was a danger he could do just that. How else would simple people like these hobbits view a race capable of wiping out a million worlds as anything other than gods!

Meanwhile, his audience were truly amazed. They would be sure to tell this story again someday. To friends and loved ones. And they agreed, it sounded like a strange belief. There must have been something to it however, for it to inspire the Covenant into inflicting such terrible things on Chief's people. Was it hope, of a better life perhaps? But all that could be achieved in the real world, a fantasy realm wasn't needed. The Shire was a living testament of this. A simple life of home, food and family was all the hobbits wanted. And they missed their home with all their hearts.

It was then that John noticed the aching pain in his stomach. Something he could not continue to ignore. He'd been without food for long enough. "Now, do you have anything to eat in those big rucksacks of yours?" He suddenly asked them. The hobbits were a little surprised, but quickly sprang into action.

"Sure!" Merry answered. "We're not hungry after all this, but if you are…" The two immediately started rummaging around in their sacks. Reaching deep into his, Pippin pulled something out. Wrapped in thick white paper that rustled loudly as the hobbit opened it. "Here Chief! You must be starved. It's the only thing we have left that doesn't need to be cooked. It's a nice fat sandwich. Enjoy!"

He handed it to Chief, smiling at him. John couldn't help but marvel at the meal. The sandwich was as big as the hobbit's heads! He took it without a word. Cortana was not impressed. "What do you say John?" She asked him, with a hint of sarcasm.

"Thanks" He said simply. Glaring at Cortana through his HUD.

"Oh don't give me that look. You know I'm right!" She challenged back playfully. She had really missed him after all these years of being apart.

Chief removed his helmet with a hiss, which made the hobbits jump. Then he began to munch the meal down. It had ham, goats cheese, crunchy lettuce and finely smoked bacon. It was good. Eating in the efficient way all Spartans did, accelerated by hunger, he demolished the colossal sandwich in two minutes flat. Again, the two hobbits were a little wide eyed. Pippin spoke first.

"That was fast Chief! You should challenge the Boulgers to an eating competition: Greatest competitive eaters in the Shire. You'd give them a run for their money!" Chief wasn't sure, he had never participated in things like that. They were not conducive of a disciplined and practical outlook. He saw such things as pointless. "Maybe, some other time perhaps." He said, pushing his helmet down once more. The Hobbits seemed satisfied with that.

Just then, there was movement coming through the trees. A single contact lit up on his motion tracker, and a bright light, like a flare, was growing ever brighter. Chief sprang into action, drawing his knife, holding it in a defensive reverse grip whilst Merry and Pippin ran behind him. Drawing their own blades. What was it? Some Kind of wraith? Yet when he saw what it was...he was a little surprised.

The person seemed to be human. Elegant, clean and fair. With long flowing robes and silky, flowing hair. "Doesn't look like an evil being to me Chief. Maybe she's here to help?" Chief was in agreement, he decided to sheath his knife. But stayed on guard. He was taking few chances.

Two more contacts lit up. Aragorn and Sam were following behind, returning hopefully with their medicine. It was needed urgently. Kneeling in examination of his charge, Frodo seemed to have taken another turn for the worse. His pulse was erratic, and in this cold autumn night, his body temperature had shot right down. Worse than it had before.

The stranger was now dismounting her horse. John was getting a strange vibe from this woman. It was like she wasn't human, and simply looked just like one. Then, as she knelt tentatively besides Frodo, pushing her long hair back, Chief finally took note of her pointed ears.

"Who is she?" Pippin asked, no one took any notice. Then Merry saw the ears. His jaw dropped.

"She's an elf!" he whispered in awe. His gaze flashed back to her as she and Strider helped her place Frodo in a saddle. ''An elf?'' Chief thought, a little in awe himself. An air of goodness seemed to emanate from this woman, however that was possible. And with her pale glowing aura, it was as if a messianic image was playing out right before him.

"Oh! And to top things off, she's an elf! Wonderful!" Cortana was a creature of logic, she was beginning to get fed up with this world. She felt like she was staring into a parody of herself, with all that glowing light around her. It was at this moment that Cortana decided she didn't like this individual very much.

"Frodo!" Arwen cooed softly, trying to bring him round. Sam was helping Strider to take apart Frodo's dressing, taking care not to rip any of the cloth. Aragorn was preparing the kingsfoil, spitting on the weed in order to draw the medicine out. The fair maiden's face was filled with concern, she didn't need to have studied healing for centuries to know that Frodo didn't have much time. "He's fading. He's not going to last!" She exclaimed in concern.

Aragorn started to rub the kingsfoil into his open wound. Frodo reacted immediately, and as the weed began to sting, he wheezed back into consciousness. Chief had medicines as well: Morphine, bio-foam, metabolic stimulant solutions, all within his armour. The problem was, Frodo wasn't human. Any treatment could potentially do more damage than good. Had Frodo been in a better way, he might have tried something. But putting any more stress on him right now, it could kill him.

Arwen knew that she had to get him away from here. "We must get him to my father!" She said, helping Aragorn move him to her horse. Aragorn quickly placed Frodo in the saddle, and turned back around to face her. Arwen had suddenly stopped dead, she had seen Chief for the first time. "Who is he?" She asked Aragorn in her own tongue. The apprehension clear in her voice as she continued to stare.

"I am not sure" He replied, following her gaze before looking back into her eyes once more, "He calls himself the Master Chief. He is human, I have seen his face. He says he's a warrior from a distant realm, somewhere to the east. He fought off many wraiths, barehanded. And insisted on coming with us. I do not believe him a servant of evil."

Arwen looked back at the Chief, stunned, with a hint horror in her eyes. Aragorn wondered if she knew of him. He would ask her later, there would be time for that soon enough.

She started to speak in the gentle, elvish language. Everyone, including Chief, was a little surprised when Strider started speaking it back to her. "Stay with the Hobbits. I will send horses back for you." He says, "No. I'm the faster rider. I'll take him!" She disagrees. "The road is too dangerous..."

"What are they saying?" Pippin asks Chief. Chief cared for none of it. This talk could hold. It couldn't take priority over Frodo.

"Whatever you're discussing can wait. Frodo needs help. We're out of time." The two figures span around, this was the first Aragorn had heard frustration in the warrior's voice.

"Indeed Chief. And take heart, for this is Arwen. She hails from Rivendell and has come to our aid." He said acknowledging her with a nod. She smiled back in response, wide eyes still fixed on the Chief.

"If she's here to help then let her help." He commanded. "I could cross country faster than any of you, but I do not know the way to this Rivendell." A Spartan could outrun any horse. But that wasn't all there was to it. "We need to move. And she's Frodo's best chance. Let her take him."

She and Aragorn glanced at each other. This was no suggestion, this was a command. Of them both, Arwen was the faster rider and was not as defenceless as he would have liked to admit. But, he was risking far more than the Spartan could imagine. These were desperate times indeed when one could justify such a gamble.

"As you wish." Aragorn said in defeat. He'd been outvoted. The apprehensive maiden also nodded, yet as the giant hefted the sickly hobbit onto her steed, she couldn't help but bring her gaze away.

Aragorn detected her unease, and turned to speak to her. Again, in elvish. "What is he? Do you know of his kind?" Aragorn whispered to her, speaking in elfish. "I know nothing of him!" She answered. "And that is what troubles me. Perhaps my father will have knowledge of his people." Time was short, she had to ride right now!

"I must go, for Frodo's sake!" Aragorn knew it as well. "Good luck Arwen. Ride swiftly, do not look back." That was as close as he got to a farewell. And with a single elvish word, Asfaloth bolted away from them.

"What are you doing?!" Sam yelled at Strider in outrage as her horse tore away. "Those wraiths are still out there!" He didn't answer, and a silence fell over the clearing as the beating of hooves faded away. He'd just taken a horrific risk. If Arwen failed to reach the sanctuary of Rivendell, the free peoples were as good as doomed.