When In Middle Earth: The edited, revised and face-lifted edition:

When in Middle Earth, do as the Middle-Earthlings do. Sakura finds herself in the midst of Middle Earth, immersed in a war she has no part in, saving a world and people she doesn't know, and why? Because Naruto would be disappointed in her if she ever got back and told him she hadn't...

Chapter Six:

In which Sakura learns a little about history, and Hobbits learn a lot about prudence

Disclaimer:

The Lord of The Rings, it's associated characters and components are copyright and property of its author J. R. R. Tolkien, the actors that played them, and the director of the trilogy of films of the same name, Peter Jackson. The character Sakura and any components associated with the manga and anime 'Naruto' are property and copyright of Masashi Kishimoto

The story continues:

"This once was once a watch-tower," Aragorn whispered to Sakura, as she dropped down beside him and curled her legs up. Sakura looked over the place with a curious eye, taking in the molten orange that stole over the stonework as the sun set, the weatherworn and chipped walls, and the glints of green as weeds and grasses crept up through cracks in the floor. She could see for miles across the lands in front of her, all the way to the horizon, where the sun was dipping low and turning the clouds pink above it. It wasn't hard to see why someone had built a tower here. Aragorn's gaze had gone a little misty, as if he was lost in some deep thought, or memory. She wondered what she ought to say, but it seemed all he needed was a willing ear, because he continued without any encouragement.

"It was a watchtower of Arnor," he said, his voice still low, and his gaze drifted sideways, as if he expected some reaction from her. Sakura's brows drew down as she sifted through the memory, trying to remember why the name was familiar to her.

"Arnor…was your kingdom?" she hazarded, recalling a conversation about Rangers. "Your people's kingdom; a long time ago."

He seemed pleased that she'd remembered, and nodded. "It fell before my time," he murmured quietly, "but the stories shaped my childhood. Would you like to hear them?"

She nodded, but couldn't help but wonder if he'd simply have continued anyway. Clearly, being here had a strange effect on his mood. He seemed far away. But her curiosity was enough to keep her listening as he whispered to her about the rise and fall of his people, and the legends they bore, and slowly the sun drew toward the horizon until the bright circle was gone from the sky completely, and only a hint of orange remained along the horizon. He was quite the story-teller, and she found herself lost for a long moment, suspended in the tales he wove. She could almost see the walls rebuilt and full, the men standing guard, the soldiers huddled around the fire pit as the wind blew over the hill; and below, a patchwork of well-tilled fields and stout farmhouses, stretching away toward a city that no longer stood.

And then her imagination provided all too vividly the vision of a battle, a war, and the loss that followed. She imagined families throwing on cloaks and gathering their little ones, and fleeing into the wild places. She imagined those little ones growing old, haunted by the story of where they came from and the failure of those who led them to war; and she imagined them roaming the wilds which had become their home, the only friendly place left to them. She felt oddly…bereft…when Aragorn stopped talking; and a strange sort of reverence for this old tower, which had rebelled against the passage of time and stood defiantly atop the hill, and was so full of memory. There were not many old buildings in ninja villages – the Great Wars had seen to it that the villages were almost entirely rebuilt every few decades, not to mention the inevitable damage to property that came with having some hundreds of ninja in one place.

They sat in silence until the last dregs of orange faded from the sky, and Aragorn broke from his thoughts long enough to order her to bed down with the hobbits. It was second nature for Sakura to argue, but her eyelids were already drooping and her argument was half-hearted at best. So, she gave the stonework a friendly pat and she left Aragorn to his thoughts. As she rounded the corner, she was almost certain that she could hear him start to sing, quietly, in a language she didn't know, and paused for just a moment. Though she could hardly hear it, it sounded a beautiful language, and she wondered what beautiful people must speak like that. But her brain was running on willpower alone, and she couldn't deny that a few hours of sleep would be welcome. She barely managed to roll out her sleeping mat in the inner chamber of the watchtower, what used to be the guards' quarters, before her eyes slipped close and she fell into a light, dreamless sleep.

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Sakura couldn't have been asleep more than about three hours before she was woken, not by Aragorn, but by the flickering of light and warmth on her eyelids. 'Wait…' her brain kicked into gear with a jolt, 'What?'. Her eyes snapped open, only to find that those idiotic Hobbits had lit a fire and were, of all things, cooking bacon in the middle of the night.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She screeched, and grabbed her blanket, intent on smothering it. Her shout woke Frodo with a jolt, the only hobbit to have still been asleep. He took one look at the scene and leapt to his feet, desperately trying to stamp out the fire with his bare soles.

"Put it out you fools, put it out!" he shouted fearfully, even as they tried to reassure him that they'd made enough for him too. He yelped as he stamped down and the embers clung to his foot, burning him with an audible sizzle. Sakura shoved her blanket at him and took off toward the upper levels of the tower. She spared little more than a second to be thankful that one of them had some at least some sense, if no notion of how to smother a fire quickly. This tower might be able to see for miles but that only meant it could be seen for miles too. And if anyone had seen a fire up here in the dead of night…she shuddered to think. Did the idiots not realise how bright and how far firelight could travel in the dark? It was even cloudy tonight! There was no moon to be seen; it was practically the perfect night for cover and the bloody idiots had blown it! She pushed the thought aside with gritted teeth, and gave up on the stairs. She took to scaling the ancient pillars instead.

"Aragorn," she hissed quietly, looking about wildly for him. Not only had they compromised their own safety but the stupid hobbits had gone and ruined her night-vision too, and it had yet to return. She was having difficulty discerning one shadow from another. 'What I wouldn't give right now to be a Hyuuga' Sakura thought sourly as she searched for something human-shaped in the dark. His sudden appearance between the pillars startled her, and she had a kunai in her hand and ready to throw, before she realised who it was. With a relieved breath out, she hurried over to him, only to freeze before she could even get a word out, as the shrill cry of the Ringwraiths rang out through the night. Her breath caught in her throat and her gut clenched, remembering the last time she'd heard that inhuman wail. Sakura and Aragorn exchanged one horrified glance, and simultaneously dashed off in different directions. Aragorn cursed as he fumbled for his sword and bounded down the track as fast as his legs would allow. Sakura simply bypassed the path altogether, jumping directly from the top of the tower. Her landing made small cracks in the stonework, but she spared no thought to it as she bounced from pillar to pillar, desperately trying to reach the hobbits.

By the time she found them, there was no doubt that they knew exactly what they'd done. She found the four of them stood back to back, fumbling with swords they didn't know how to use and sending terrified glances in every direction. The very air felt like ice. She could see the hobbits shaking, and they pressed together. Poor Pippin looked as scared of his own sword as he did of the Ringwraith's, and Frodo had gone paler than a white sheet.

She vaulted over a headless statue and hopped down onto a half-broken pillar. She landed with a dull thud, only to turn her head with fearful slowness as the sound of crunching footsteps reached her ears. Advancing through the gap between two opposite pillars, was a Ringwraith. A Nazgul with black armour under its equally black cloak and an evil-looking blade already drawn, held in front of it. The hobbits stood amid the circle of pillars, between her and wraith, and she thanked her lucky stars that they'd had enough sense to seek higher ground; to get out of the enclosed and inescapable guard-room. The Nazgul was joined by four others, before she could even blink and they advanced with a terrifying deliberateness, enclosing the Hobbits in a tight semi-circle. The air seemed to freeze with their presence. With each step they took, the Nazgul lowered their swords, levelling them directly at the Hobbits' faces in clear threat. Sakura found herself frozen atop the pillar; even as the hobbits retreated backwards she could not take a step. They were truly terrifying.

It was Sam's cry that snapped her out of it. "Back you Devil's!" He yelled, swiping wildly with his sword, only to be thrown bodily against a wall with a sickening crunch.

Sakura wasted no more time. Luckily she had neglected to take off her gloves, and Sakura simply launched herself off the pillar she crouched on, aiming for the nearest Nazgul with a feral snarl on her face. She drew back a hand already glowing green with the amount of chakra she was currently charging through her knuckles, landed on one foot, slid the other out to duck underneath the blade it swung at her and, drawing power from her knees, straightened in one fluid movement and delivered a staggering blow to the creature's chest plate. The wraith was slammed backwards into another pillar with a sizable dent in its black armour. Good, she could hit them. It crumpled to its knees, and Sakura moved onto the next one without a backward glance.

In her peripheral vision, she could see that Aragorn had come swinging around the corner, flaming torch and sword in hand, but she was already exchanging blows with another Ringwraith; blocking its sword with kunai that she'd only just managed to pull out in time. It gave an almighty swing - the blade whistling through the air and slicing through the tips of her hair as she ducked - and Sakura felt a searing pain reverberate through her skull as it brought the handle down sharply on her head instead. Black spots clouded her vision and she staggered back, flicking one of the kunai at its head so as to have a free hand to heal herself with. She was surprised and satisfied when the wraith reared back with a screech, clawing at the knife stuck in its seemingly empty hood. She took the opportunity to deliver a kick that sent it flying off the tower.

With one hand, she kept her kunai raised, while she used her teeth to pull her glove off the other and brought it quickly to her head. A basic healing jutsu was enough to take the pain away, but she resolved to take a closer look when she had the time. She didn't think there was any serious damage, but head injuries could be brutal, and the last thing she needed was one of those. She shook her head futilely, trying to clear her vision, only to catch sight of another Nazgul out of the corner of her eye, which had Merry and Pippin cornered. She could see Merry and Pippin stabbing wildly at it and took a flying dive toward them but she was struck bodily as the Nazgul swung its sword to intercept her in mid-air, before her tackle could land. She hit the ground hard, grunting with pain, and lifted a glowing ungloved hand to her bleeding side.

"Stranger!" Pippin yelled in fear, and her eyes widened. With a burst of chakra and muscle power, she hopped onto her feet again, standing protectively in front of the two Hobbits. She growled audibly as she got a good look at the Wraith they faced – it had a fist-shaped dent in its chest-plate. Apparently that one wasn't as 'down and out' as she'd thought. Resolutely, Sakura pushed the hobbits behind her with her empty hand, realising unhappily that she'd dropped both glove and kunai in her fall. She made sure to keep her eyes locked on the creature's hood – the closest it had to a face and she was vindictively pleased to see it hesitate slightly in its advance when she stood before it – to all intents and purposes – utterly unharmed. She didn't take her eyes off it as it began to circle them, and reached into her weapons pouch under her cloak; the hood moved to follow the movement of the material.

Aragorn met his foe blow for blow, blocking first with his sword, then with the torch, swiping at the wraith with one and the other, and driving it backwards away from the Hobbits. He'd seen Sakura kick one off the tower entirely, and from the corner of his eye he saw her step in to protect Merry and Pippin, facing the advancing Ringwraith head on. He had no time to worry about her though – another had interfered with his own fight and he found himself in the unenviable position of having to fight off two enemies at once. He spun on his heel on instinct, glad of his dual-wielding, and met one, then the other, with blade and fire. He swiped at them with his torch, the flames apparently having some effect for it drove them back. He deftly ducked a blow, spinning quickly and lighting fire to the Nazgul's cloak, before completing his spin to meet a second with his sword. He ducked and dodged as best he could, but it was not enough to stop the edge of the sword (he neither knew nor cared which one) from slicing across his cheek bone dangerously close to his eye. He hissed in pain, and automatically tried to bring his hand up to wipe the blood away, only to find that the knee-jerk reaction was just in time to block another blow. The Ringwraith's sword bit into the handle of the torch just a hairsbreadth away from his fingers, and Aragorn swiped viciously at it with the flame in response.

Her cloak flew dramatically around her shoulders as Sakura flung it back, revealing hands bristling with kunai, in a scene rather reminiscent of her mission to snow-country so long ago. Her face was a picture of fury, and within seconds the knives were flying through the air, their tags streaming behind them. Merry and Pippin watched in shock as the wraith stumbled; the weapons embedding themselves in its arms and legs. "Kai," Sakura hissed, and with a quickly formed hand-sign the tags ignited; blowing the wraith backwards with the force of the explosion and setting its billowing robes alight.

Sakura was on it like a predator; it staggered backwards, wailing in that shrill inhuman voice, and she followed, ruthlessly hammering its breastplate with punches and kicks, bruising the knuckles of her bare hand, and blistering them and singing her glove with the heat as the flames heated its metal armour. The burning wraith had no opportunity to flee; Sakura was relentless. It's arms flailed wildly at its knees met the low, crumbled wall of the towed; the flames making a sparkler-circle effect in the air as it tried desperately to right itself. But the Kunoichi was having none of that. She swung her leg up and, charged with chakra, brought it home with one decisive motion. The Ringwraith tumbled from the tower with a heart-stopping screech.

But the sound was soon replaced with a very human shriek of pain. In the confusion of the battle, nobody had noticed Frodo's disappearance, or the fact that one of the five Ringwraiths was unaccounted for. Her blood ran cold as she turned to see Sam knocked unconscious against a wall, and Frodo gone completely. But she could still hear a wrenching cry of pain, and Merry and Pippin were still crouched shuddering where she'd left them. She ran in the direction of the cry.

Weathertop was a mess of noise; Aragorn heard the screech of other Nazgul as they fell or fled, and knew Sakura was doing her work. He swiped viciously at the Nazgul in front of him, setting it alight with a well-placed strike of his torch. It dropped to the floor, rolling and flapping about to no avail. The resounding wail that followed rang in his ears, but went ignored, as he spun to face his second foe. Too late, he caught sight of the blade headed for him and jerked away, bringing his arm up. But he misjudged the block and emitted a sharp cry of agony as the blade sliced into his shoulder. Unwittingly, his fingers jerked open and the torch dropped to the floor. Aragorn staggered backwards, trying to get his footing back and gritting his teeth against the pain in his arm. He wanted desperately to clamp his hand over the wound, but he daren't let go of his sword for even a moment and the ringwraith was advancing. He could feel blood soaking his sleeve and sticking the material to his skin in a clammy uncomfortable mess. He knew it was deep – he could feel the muscle protesting as he moved, and it hurt. He clenched his jaw and concentrated on preventing the Ringwraith from getting in any more hits.

At first, amidst the chaos of the fight, he almost thought that the drawn-out, pained cry was himself. But Aragorn was clenching his teeth so hard that his jaw ached, and it was with a sinking sense of horror that he recognised the voice as Frodo. Adrenaline surged through his veins, fuelled by anger and a sense of duty so deep no sword could reach it. His sword came up ruthlessly and struck once, twice, he swung low and jerked the blade up under the breastplate of the Nazgul. The sword stuck, and the creature reared backwards with an agonised scream. The Ranger followed, looking as wild as his home with blood streaked across his face and arm, his hair tangled and his eyes aflame. He scooped up his torch, pivoted to relight it on the flaming, flailing Ringwraith, and jabbed it harshly into the neck region of the cloaked Rider. It went up like a spark in a dry forest. He caught his sword by the handle and jerked it out, spinning away and running for Frodo without looking back.

The last Ringwraith was crouched over a patch of thin air, with its blade embedded into seemingly nothing. Then, before her very eyes, Frodo abruptly reappeared, crying out in agony as the Ringwraith dug its blade into his shoulder. He was pale, sweating, and the screams that were coming from his mouth were enough to wake the dead. It certainly woke Sam, who'd been groggily returning to the land of the living, only to be jerked into unwelcome consciousness as the sound of that cry.

Sakura was flooded with a blazing anger, and without a thought she wrenched the nearest pillar into her arms. "Shannaro!" she bellowed, swinging the stone pillar like a bat, intending to swipe the filthy creature away.

"Mr Frodo!" Sam wailed in despair.

The Ringwraith's head whipped around and it dived to the ground. Its weapon skittered across the stones as it lost its grip. Sakura's pillar whipped over its head so fast that the cloak rippled, and the momentum made her grip on the stone slip. She tried desperately to cling to the slippery surface, with her blistered hand and sooty glove, but to no avail. The pillar crashed away down the hill, taking out any wraiths which may have been on the way back up, but not the one they needed to take out. It was then that Aragorn came swinging around the corner and took advantage of the Ringwraith's distraction to throw his flaming torch with an accuracy that Sakura envied. The torch spun through the air, embedding the flaming wood in the wraiths hood and setting the foul thing aflame. There was the slightest of 'whoomph' noises as it went up, and the nasty smell of singing wool.

The Ringwraith staggered backwards until its knees met the wall, and let out a final piercing cry as it toppled over the edge and onto the rocky hillside far below. Hesitantly, Sakura approached the ledge, peering into the darkness below. But she could see nothing, and soon Frodo's agonised cries brought her mind slamming back to the present.

She collapsed to her knees at Frodo's side, automatically drawing healing chakra into her hands. She tore off her remaining glove with her teeth and clapped both hands over the wound, pouring her chakra into the wound the way she had a thousand times before. But it was useless.

"There is something poisoning his system, something unnatural. I can't draw it out!" Sakura exclaimed in a mixture of horror and anger. She couldn't use just any healing jutsu to fix this – she'd need to use her own extraction technique, one which would be impossible given where they were, and too time consuming to complete under pursuit. The situation seemed hopeless.

"Strider!" Sam cried in anguish "Help him Strider!"

Aragorn batted her away from the hobbit and knelt to retrieve the weapon that had stabbed him. Sakura didn't fail to notice the blood staining his sleeve and caked on his cheek. She could tell the arm wound was deep – he was favouring it considerably – even going so far as to drop his sword in order to pick up the Ringwraith's dagger in the same hand.

"He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade." No sooner had he said it than the weapon crumbled in his hands. Sakura nodded distractedly, if it was a special blade it explained why her own wound and Aragorn's wounds, hadn't produced the same effects. She guessed that the blade was lined with some form of poison, although, she glanced at the dark, metallic dust that was all that was left of the dagger, it was just as possible that whatever the heck that thing was made of was poisonous in and of itself.

"He needs elfish medicine." Aragorn announced grimly. He reached for the hobbit, as if intending to hoisted the Hobbit onto his shoulders. He winced violently as he extended his arm and Sakura grabbed his wrist with an iron like grip.

"It's fine," he growled, but Sakura wouldn't hear of it.

"Do you really think you're going to be of any use to anyone like that?" she asked in a terse voice. "Don't be an idiot."

She knew Aragorn hadn't seen her heal yet, but they didn't have time for her to explain what she was going to do. She simply called on her chakra and wrapped her glowing palm around his wound, and rolled her eyes discreetly as he clamped his mouth shut on a particularly unmanly yelp. His eyes widened as the disturbing sensation of his flesh knitting back together came over him. There was an odd tingling sensation as her hand left his skin, and with astounded eyes he spread the cut in his sleeve only to find a fresh scar underneath. He spared Sakura one amazed glance before she was bundling the shuddering hobbit onto his back and herding the rest of the hobbits into action.

They were stalled by some precious minutes while the hobbits quickly thrust what belongings they could find back into their packs and into Bill's saddlebags, and Sam wrestled Bill down the hill and into a brisk trot. Sakura whizzed around the site, gathering up as many of her fallen kunai as she could. She managed to retrieve her gloves, and tugged them on impatiently. She spared barely a second to glare at the holes across the knuckles of her left hand, where she'd singed through the material entirely.

Aragorn waited without patience, barking out unnecessary orders, while he watched the others fumbling with their belongings and Sakura sped about so fast she looked blurred even to his eyes. That was another thing he'd have to mull over later. In record time she was by his side again, and she picked up his sword. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, and then narrowed in suspicion as she looked upon his blade properly for the first time, but she elected not to comment. Instead she simply slid it into the scabbard on his belt for him as gently as she could. He didn't even appear to notice, so focussed was he on the hobbit on his back.

The group fled through the night. Sam led Bill along at a pace that the pony had never run in his life, as likely as not. Sakura found that the hobbit's could be remarkably silent and fast, when needed, and she herself stayed close to the group, running without chakra to conserve it as much as she could. Aragorn led them toward the land of the elves at a ground-breaking pace, but still she couldn't help but feel that they would be too late. Already, Frodo's condition was declining at an alarming rate. The darkness was pressing in on them. It was smothering. Even the very trees seemed to hold them back, snagging on their cloaks and sleeves, and tripping their feet. Fear nagged at Sakura's mind, but she was going on instinct now.

She ran silently behind the hobbits, her every sense on the alert for pursuers, and the cries of the Ringwraiths echoed in her ears with frightening clarity. It was only Frodo's pained sobs that brought them to a halt. Sakura's hands were instantly on him, determined at least to numb the pain if she could not draw out the poison.

"Get me some water," she ordered at a random hobbit, and knew only that someone had run off into the underbrush; she didn't look up to see who. She busied herself with freezing his nerve endings in the shoulder, and dabbing the sweat from his forehead gently with the hem of her cloak. Behind her, Aragorn muttered something about Kings Foil and disappeared into the wood, no doubt searching for his miracle-plant. The sloshing of water against the walls of a water skin brought her attention to Sam, who collapsed to his knees with the full pouch in hand. He looked sick with worry.

"What are you gonna' do Stranger?" he whispered in a voice strangled with fear.

She gritted her teeth, and gestured the other two hobbits over. "I am going," she said as calmly as she could, "to try and draw the poison out. I've numbed the pain as much as I can but…"

"But?" Sam said sharply.

"But you are going to have to hold him down," she said gravely. And with that faith-inducing sentence, Sakura uncorked the water-skin and closed her eyes, concentrating on manipulating the water with her self-developed jutsu. Slowly, the bubble gathered around her hand, and she moved the hand slowly to Frodo's shoulder, anxious not to left it dissolve. This was the hard part, and she only hoped the hobbits could snap themselves out of their dumbstruck stupor long enough to wrestle him back to the ground.

"Get ready," she warned, and forced the fluid-ball against Frodo's skin, and into the wound. She gritted her teeth as he thrashed about, and threw all her concentration into manipulating her chakra in just…the right…way…

Something was nagging at her mind, but she forced it away in favour of tunnelling her vision on the injured hobbit. He needed her full attention, and she couldn't afford to get this technique wrong. Sam, Merry and Pippin, watched in shock from their prone positions across Frodo's limbs, holding him with their own combined body weight and still having to fight him, as Sakura slowly drew the ball of water and chakra out of Frodo's wound again. Her brow was becoming damp with the effort of fighting with her own patient and her own technique, but steadily the discoloured, foul smelling poison was drawing out with the fluid. She let the ball drop onto the dirt with a splash; it sizzled slightly, and soaked quickly into the ground.

Frodo groaned quietly, and Sam caringly brushed his sweat-dampened hair away from his forehead. Sakura let her senses widen and expand, relaxing ever so slightly, only to freeze as soon as she did so. Kakashi-sensei had always told her to listen to her instincts and right now they had gone past nagging and had started screaming at her.

"There is somebody else here," she breathed in horror.

The hobbits' eyes widened in alarm. But anything they might have said fell on deaf ears.

Sakura had to find Aragorn.

"Watch him!"

She took off in the direction he'd gone, tracking his path by the flattened grass and trampled roots. She channelled chakra to her eyes and ears, enhancing her senses tenfold at least, and found him surprisingly quickly. He'd not gone far.

Her relief was cut short when she saw where he had gone. Aragorn knelt amid a thicket of the plants she recognised as Kings Foil, from one of the drawings in 'Strider's' plant journal. Several stalks of the plant were pulled taught in his hand, and he had his knife poised to cut them away. And he would have, no doubt, if his head were not tilted at an uncomfortable angle by the woman that stood over him, with a long, sharp sword in her slender little hand. Sakura felt anger course through her veins.

"What is this?" The fair woman asked, using her sword to tip his chin up toward her, so that he had no choice but to look at her face. "A Ranger caught off his guard?"

But it was the woman's turn to freeze, when the sharp blade of Sakura's kunai met the skin of her throat.

"Don't. Move."

To be continued…

For your benefit, changes (if they're not obvious) made to this chapter include:

Roughly the first 700 words. It occurred to me that Aragorn was bound to feel a bit nostalgic and whimsical in a place with so much history to his people. As for what he is lost in thought about, maybe his parents, maybe his past, maybe even Arwen. Who knows what he'd be remembering? I rather liked the idea of him wanting to share a little of Weathertop's history with someone, because some things shouldn't be forgotton.

As for the rest, mostly editing and expanding so it's a bit less like: Sakura killed that one like this, then that one, and Aragorn killed that one, and Frodo was dying…

And I felt like Sakura should have more of a role in Frodo's healing, though since there is a shard still in there poisoning him, it's effectiveness is somewhat limited.

And finally, when reading over the original, it seemed to me like nobody ever got hurt, with the exception of a few nasty things I did to Sakura throughout the story. Hence, both Sakura and Aragorn suffer some damage, and Aragorn gets to see yet another of Sakura's abilities for the first time :)

This chapter I decided to stick to the movie more-or-less. But for those who know who Glorfindel is, he will also be appearing so keep an eye out for him next chappie! :) This particular section of the story is going to be a bit of a pick and mix between the bits I liked from the movie and the bits I liked from the book.

~Devi1OnUrShou1der~