Disclaimer: See Chapter 2.

Apologies for the delay in posting another chapter, but I have been feeling rather unwell and then I had a worrying time last week after hearing that my 85 year old father wasn't well in South Africa.

"Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting, and though unwanted, unbidden, it will
stir. Open its jaws, and howl. It speaks to us, guides us. Passion rules us all, and
we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest
moments. The joy of love, the clarity of hatred, and the ecstasy of grief. It hurts
sometimes more than we can bear. If we can live without passion, maybe we'd know
some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank.
Without passion, we'd be truly dead."- Angelus, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Chapter 52 – The Two of Us

The Camp of the Host of the Valar

"What is your business here?"

The abrupt question took the Maia Curunir completely by surprise and annoyed him more than a little bit. He was a Maia of Aule and not used to being questioned by Eldar, even those with grim, cold eyes. But then these Elves were part of the group who served with the Kinslayers. They did not hold beings like the Maiar in great awe, unlike the Vanyar and those who had remained behind on Aman when Feanor raged across the countryside and then crossed the sea to Ennorath.

Curunir swallowed back his immediate desire to show this Elf just what a Maia actually was and brought forth the voice whose honeyed dulcet tones would in later ages lull those of weaker mental capacities into a false sense of peace and security. He smiled at the Elf who stood solidly in front of the tent where Kim and Alun Davies sat. Or rather he stretched his lips into something approaching a stiff smile.

It had no effect on the impassive warrior who made no attempt to respond in kind.

"I am Curunir, Maia of Aule and currently attached to Lord Eonwe, Commander in Chief of the Host and his staff here in Beleriand..." He began, although he had a shrewd suspicion that this warrior knew exactly who and what he was.

The warrior stared at the Maia with narrowed eyes and confirmed the suspicion. "I am aware of who you are Lord Curunir. I asked you what your business was in this place." His tone was even, but a slightly shocked Curunir could plainly see that this particular Elf was unimpressed with his position and stature within the Host.

"I had thought to speak with the Lady within." He explained and the stiff smile trembled a little with disuse as he attempted to widen it further.

The warrior remained po-faced apart from a gleam of grim amusement that lurked in the back of his eyes. "For what purpose?"

Curunir was completely taken aback. This elf... this Feanorian whelp was actually questioning his purpose. He was so shocked that he took a step back. The anger that was constantly bubbling underneath the surface seeped out. "How dare you question me." He hissed. "I am a Maia of Aule, I wish to speak to the mortal woman. Do you seek to countermand the request of one who has the ear of the Valar?"

The warrior remained unimpressed. He was one of those who had travelled across the sea on ships stolen from the Teleri. He had seen the Light of the Two Trees and he had also seen it snuffed out until darkness and confusion covered Aman. He had spilled the blood of his innocent Teleri kin and had been ordered by his Lord's son, Maedhros to defend the Lady Kim and her companion to the death. To him, that was as good as any order given by Feanor himself.

So it was that instead of standing aside to let the Maia sweep through, he laughed. It was a soft and deadly sound which actually sent a chill of ice up Curunir's spine, a completely new sensation for him and one that he did not like at all.

The warrior bent forward so that his nose almost touched the Maia's long hooked appendage.

"I do not serve the Valar." He said softly but there was steel underlying the softness. "I served the household of my Lord Feanor who did not hold any of you in awe and now I serve that of his sons, the Lords Maedhros and Maglor. My loyalty and allegiance is to them and them alone. My orders are that the Lady and her companion are not to be disturbed. By anyone, up to and including you. Should you wish to speak to her, then I suggest you await my Lord's return from the battlefield and make your application to him directly."

Curunir's anger knew no bounds, but he also was fully aware that Eonwe had issued strict instructions prohibiting the use of any inherent Maiar abilities within the camp. His skin crawled with fury and the desire to lash out hovered dangerously just below the surface. The Maia struggled for control which he eventually achieved and, breathing hard, he took a step back, gritted his teeth and glared at the warrior who stared back at him with those unconcerned and implacable stormy grey eyes.

"I will speak with Lord Eonwe about this." He finally managed to snarl out.

The warrior watched the apoplectic workings of the Maia's face with undisguised amusement. He shrugged nonchalantly. An act which made Curunir ache to slap him. "Do so by all means." He said with a thin smile. "It is not my concern. My only concern is to obey the orders of my commander, nothing more."

A seething Curunir drew himself up to his full, not inconsiderable, height and then swept away, robes swirling around him majestically.

"Now there goes a man scorned if ever I saw one."

The warrior turned to find the Lady's companion, Alun, standing slightly behind him. He nodded. "Yes indeed, not someone to turn one's back on. However I have my orders and I owe no allegiance to the likes of him."

Alun watched the tall figure disappear among the brightly coloured tents and pavilions. "I imagine he would make quite a bad enemy."

"Aye indeed. That is the only thing anyone can say about him, since he has more enemies than he does friends among the Host." The warrior chuckled grimly.

Alun's eyes gleamed in interest. "Does he now and why would that be?" He sat down on a large nearby tree stump. Although his command of the Elven language was quite limited, he was beginning to be exceedingly grateful for the Valar's help in understanding the basics of what people around him were saying. Without it he would have been lost.

The warrior laughed again. "It would take too long to tell you."

The policeman also laughed. "The day's battle is still young my friend. I imagine we have that long at least." He settled himself more comfortably. "Tell me about this... Curunir or whatever he calls himself."

ooOoo

The Camp of Ereinion Gil-galad, somewhere in Beleriand

The pace that the Herald of Manwe set in his desire to return to the Host was fierce. He was aware that at one point the SAS troopers had loped off on their own and he didn't worry about that. He had briefed them the night before in an official Orders Group, done modern British Military style with the bemused High King and his equally bemused Elven commanders in attendance.

Sergeant Dutch van Breda made no notes during the briefing. He asked to look at maps of the area and Eonwe relayed his request more fluently to the High King. Glorfindel stood with the sergeant as he and the other troopers pored over the maps. The Elf-lord traced the route to the Host and explained as best he could the terrain and the kind of enemy presence that could be there.

"They will not ride with us." Cirdan commented to Eonwe as he watched Glorfindel and the modern soldiers examining the maps.

Eonwe shook his head. "No. They will set their own pace. It is their way. They may even arrive before us, but Gary and Lord Tulkas are expecting them."

"How is this so?" Cirdan looked at the soldiers with an expression of comical disbelief on his face. "They have no mounts and they are further hampered by not knowing where they are going."

Eonwe chuckled. "Trust me Lord Cirdan, by the time they have finished, they will know exactly where they are and where they are heading. They need no mounts. They are trained in long fast marches."

"It's called yomping." The Chief/Olorin interjected cheerfully. "A phrase coined by my old unit, the Marine Commandos. I did a bit of yomping in my time." His voice sounded almost wistful.

The Herald stood up and stretched his long legs. Erestor moved in quietly, shifted the parchments off the table and began to set it with food and drink, ably assisted by Gildor.

"I am sure you have a yomp left in you somewhere old man." Teased the Herald. "You didn't do so badly on the way here from the Forest of Dean."

Everyone laughed and Erestor hid a grin as he began to ladle hot vegetable stew out of a large pot into small earthenware bowls. Gildor broke a couple of small dark flat Dwarven loaves into pieces, the contribution of Glosur and his people to the meal.

"Are you kidding me?" Jim quipped. "He whined all the way."

The Chief raised his eyebrows and slapped him over the head with a rolled up parchment. "When was the last time that the Fuzz [1 yomped anywhere? Unless it was home for scran [2 in front of the fire and the telly."

Jim's eyes gleamed greedily as the smell of the stew wafted under his nose. "And talking about scran, that smells great. I'm so hungry I could eat a scabby horse between two stained mattresses."

Eonwe laughed. "Then by all means my young friend, eat your fill. I advise all to do the same. We have many leagues of travel before us before we reach the Host and many possible interruptions along the way."

He, however, did not eat straightaway. The Chief/Olorin looked up sharply and saw his fellow Maia's eyes silver over as he stared out into the night and he knew that Eonwe was in communication with Manwe. He leaned over to the table, filled a bowl with the stew and placed another bowl over it with some bread on the top. Later, he would ensure that the Herald took his own advice. As a Maia it was often easy to forget that they needed to see to the fleshly needs of an incarnate form and it had been a while since Eonwe last partook of any form of nourishment other than water.

Ereinion Gil-Galad glanced up at the figure of the tall Maia, outlined against the night sky and against the light from the stars. There seemed to be a shimmering golden aura all around him. He realised that the Maia muted his natural light among lesser beings but found himself wondering how much more fiercely beautiful and incandescent could any being look.

After a long while he felt the ageless gaze, with depths of wisdom that appeared to know no bounds, rest on him and looked up, but found that he could not bear the intensity of the light in the Herald's eyes; fresh, as they were, from communication with the Valar. He winced and looked away, wiping stinging tears from his eyes with his sleeve.

He felt a mind touch... a gentle request to be allowed to communicate through mind only. For a moment Ereinion panicked. Many of the Eldar had this mind-speak ability although most would never have dreamed of using it since it was an unforgivable intrusion. He had noticed though that the Maia seemed to use it regularly with those of his kind, almost as a normal form of communication.

The touch came again and with it a warm reassurance that the Herald would go no further than opening a channel of communication. Ereinion sighed deeply and opened his mind.

The light that you see child is many times muted. The Herald's voice was soft but authoritative, the sound of a teacher gently guiding a child. Here in Arda Marred, our light cannot shine the way it does in the Blessed Realm. It would be too painful for any of you to bear. In any event, my incarnate form could not contain my true essence un-muted. Only there, in the light of Eru and the Valar whom I serve, will you see me as I truly am and be able to bear it. Even then it is not our true being. That cannot be seen by any other than our own kind, the One and the Valar.

I am not a child. Ereinion could hear the childishness in his comment and winced a little. He was the High King and should behave with maturity.

Eonwe's rich laughter echoed in his mind. I know you are not a child in your experience little one and that you have all had to live through these trials is a source of great sorrow for us all on Aman. This was not the intention of the Valar who only ever wished to offer their protection. However to us you are as children. Yet it is as children that you are a constant delight to us. We treasure each and every one of you.

Well some did not wish to live under the constant protection and under the eye of the Valar. Ereinion spoke testily. They wished to make their own experiences and build their own lives. It was just unfortunate that Morgoth had the same idea. I'm not saying that Feanor went about it the right way but... many of the Eldar obviously felt the same way.

There was a brief silence, as though Eonwe was thinking about what had been said, then he finally spoke, but the tone of voice was different, as if someone else was speaking through the Herald.

Child we regret many things that we have done and many other things we have left undone. We never intended to become so alienated from the Noldor and will do our utmost to redress those wrongs. We are here now and you should know that, with some exceptions, all of the Eldar presently residing in Arda Marred will be allowed to come home to the Blessed Realm once this War is fought and won, but the choice will ultimately be yours.

Ereinion's head jerked up in shock and he would have spoken out loud except for Eonwe's finger pressed against his lips and a slight shake of the Maia's head. He spoke again in the High King's mind.

These are things that shall not be spoken of out loud Ereinion Gil-galad. This is not yet the time. But know this, the two Peredhil are now at my camp, still under the protection of Maedhros and Maglor. But now their paths must separate. The Feanorians' doom will and must carry on until the bitter end; and bitter it may well be for them unless they decide on another course of action than to continue with the oath they took with their Atar. The Peredhils' path lies another way and it will be for you and those with you now to guide them for they too will have a choice once Morgoth is defeated. I cannot tell you what that choice is, it is not for me to pronounce until Lord Manwe deems it time, but choose they must. For the sake of all in Arda Marred.

Are they to come to me...us? Ereinion could hardly control the beating of his heart. He had longed to take the two boys under his protection as their closest living relative. The comment about exceptions sat in the back of his mind like a solid, immovable object, but he couldn't bring himself to question the Herald further. Instead he allowed his joy to rule the day; good news was not frequent in these troubled times.

They will. Eonwe's reply was short and to the point. This is why Glorfindel was sent back after his re-embodiment. To help you guide and protect them and their line. And now we should depart for the Host my Lord. Your warriors await the order to ride on.

Ereinion couldn't stop grinning. All the way along the road, eating the dust from Eonwe's horse's hooves, he just kept grinning. Cirdan and Celeborn glanced at him in alarm more than once or twice but the pace was too fast for them to have any kind of decent conversation with him. Glorfindel, for his part, realised that the High King had been informed by the Herald that he would aoon have two wards under his protection and a faint, but satisfied, smile hovered around his finely sculpted lips.

All was not quite perhaps as it should be, but it was getting there.

ooOoo

The Herald's Pavilion, Camp of the Host

"How are you feeling?"

Gary looked up from where he was using the whetstone on his sword. "About what?"

Tulkas selected an apple from the fruit bowl and examined it closely. "Oh.. about...everything."

Gary snorted. "Everything being Eonwe's imminent return you mean? Or the fact that Kim is clinging onto Maedhros as though he was a life preserver. Or perhaps you mean the fact that Alun Davies is terrified of saying anything or moving because he doesn't know whether Sauron is in control of some part of him." He resumed the whetstoning. "Then there's the baby of course. Eonwe's daughter."

"Your daughter." Tulkas interposed gently, but with a smile.

"Ah yes, thereby hangs a tale. My daughter." Gary's expression had become grim. "Except that I wasn't responsible for her was I? Your sidekick did all that."

Tulkas leaned back until the camp chair was resting precariously on its two back legs. He bit into the apple with a satisfying crunch. "Hmm. Nice piece of fruit. Now where was I? Ah yes, my sidekick, as you call him. The question I was actually asking was, how were you feeling about him, which is, of course, my first concern."

Gary stood up and placed the sword carefully in its rack. Then he went to the tent flap and pulled it back. The flaps to Kim's pavilion were closed. He could see Alun sitting outside with Maglor and Elros. Maedhros was nowhere to be seen and neither was Elrond, but Gary suspected that the young Peredhil was in the healing tents.

All around him were the signs of camp gearing itself up for both the evening and nighttime, but also for the sorties that would be sent out the next day. The battle had been both fierce and bloody and his heart was filled with sorrow for those who had lost their lives and those injured in the battle. Earlier he and Tulkas had made the rounds of the healing tents and it was hard for Gary to accept that injuries which the average GP could have healed just by dressing them and using the right antibiotics were deadly in this time. It had affected him badly. He felt weary to the bone.

He sighed and turned back to Tulkas who was still sitting by the table. The Valar finished the apple in another two bites and put the core on a plate. He smiled at Gary and waited.

"How am I supposed to feel? I've never been split in two before. I'm as nervous as hell. It's like waiting to go to the dentist. What will I remember? Will I remember anything? How do I explain to Kim that I am not coming through to 2007 with her and won't be there when she will need me the most?" He sat down and his head drooped in despair. "Will I still be me or will I be someone else who doesn't even remember who me is?"

Tulkas rose to his feet and held his arms out. "Child..." He said nothing more. Gary also stood and allowed himself to be enfolded in the Valar's strong and comforting embrace.

"I'm so tired." Gary whispered into his shoulder. "I don't even want to think about it any more."

Tulkas felt the presence of Irmo and Este as their forms coalesced in the tent. To those outside it seemed as though the area around the test was lit up. Those who knew were aware that other Valar were present and they said nothing.

Curunir had been on his way to make his complaint about the Feanorians, but saw the light and even he did not dare to interrupt. His lip curled in irritation and he swept past Finarfin and Noruthalion who had been heading up to Ingwion's tent for a light supper.

"That creature is bad news." Finarfin said softly to himself. Noruthalion glanced at him and smiled, but said nothing. The Maia Curunir wasn't the most popular person in the Host.

In the pavilion of the Herald, Tulkas had led the exhausted Gary to Eonwe's cot and bade him lie down. Gary was too tired and too upset to argue or fight it. His heavy eyelids closed and Irmo wove healing dreams around him. Este sat beside the cot and placed her hand on his brow.

Gary's sleep grew deeper. The last really coherent sound he heard was the song "The Two of Us." rattling through his brain. He was too tired to even smile at the irony.

ooOoo

[1 Fuzz - British slang word for the Police

[2 Scran - British military slang word for food, or a meal.