Disclaimer: I don't own The Lord Of The Rings, if I did I'd be a lot richer and that new series wouldn't have been made, these fantastic stories and worlds are owned by the Tolkien estate and New Line Cinema respectively.
Hello everyone, in this chapter I've expanded a lot on what's going on with Marcus and also expanded a lot on his personality and goals, but first, review response!
JannerWingfeather: as ever thank you for your kind words, I'm hoping I managed to keep anything too egregiously 21st century out of the language for those of Middle-earth in this chapter but as you noted it's an uphill struggle.
As for the languages, he's going to be getting a better and better feel for Rohirric being old English, but I'm not sure about westron, so far I've written it as an on-off switch in his head, though I will say that he doesn't yet know how to write in it.
As ever thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter
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Chapter four: Bree is a lovely cheese
Idly running a wet-stone along the length of my blade I observed the camp that evening, it was very different from previous nights as I could actually understand the inhabitants, it was especially annoying as I now had to deal with the babbling of the children around me, I'd never been particularly good with kids and having them all asking questions whilst I was trying to focus on sharpening my sword was wearing, still I didn't want to be rude to the little bastards, they were just curious after all.
And so gritting my teeth I continued, answering the occasional question when one of them would pause for breath. "No I'm not the greatest warrior of my country Gleothain, I doubt I'm even in the top thousand." I stated honestly though I was flattered that he thought so highly of my skills.
"Then who is?" I heard a slightly older voice ask from behind me, turning I saw L'eodiona looking at me curiously.
"That is a difficult question to answer, my nation's written history covers well over a thousand years, there are several candidates, King Henry the fifth is one or William Marshal who was undeniably the greatest Knight of my land, then there is Edward the Black Prince." Pausing to think I then added. "Our greatest king would be a coin toss between Edward the first and Edward the third….as with all things the answer is subjective, personally I would say that the greatest warrior was The Black Prince, he was an incredible man, he was leading armies when he was sixteen, knighted by his father for his incredible skill at a young age, he was everything a warrior prince should be, tragically he was felled by a disease long before he could become king…and his son was a feckless fool." I stated with a deep frown.
"What was he like? As a man I mean…" she asked curiously, all the boys pausing to listen to my answer.
"Hah, sadly that is an answer I'm unable to give, he died six centuries before I was born." I explained with a small chuckle and a shake of my head, before then continuing. "The men of his time wrote that he was brave, charming and intelligent, his enemies wrote that he was a terrifying barbarian who slaughtered nobles as though they were lowborn peasants all in his unending desire for conquest." Giving a small smile and a shrug I added. "It was his enemies who gave him his title, The Black Prince."
"He sounds like a most vicious and brutal fellow." An old voice ringing with subtly hidden power suddenly called as Gandalf stepped out of the gloom, judging by his expression the ancient Maiar did not approve.
"Wars are not won by being kind and gentle Mithrandir." I stated with a small and slightly sad smile, war was not something I delighted in, but it was something I viewed as often necessary.
"What would you know of war? You don't even look a man." Eretor stated harshly as he came to stand by the old wizard.
"Right firstly, to clarify, I'm twenty-two!" I snapped with a soft growl, I'd heard myself referred to far too often as boy or lad since Gandalf had given me access to westron and it was starting to get under my skin. "Secondly, I admit nothing personally beyond that fight against the goblins a few days past, but I've spent most of my life studying it, I know how to wage war on a scale completely beyond you Ranger, I know how to build machines of war that would be unstoppable monsters that could fell dragons in a single strike!" I snarled, he'd wounded my pride with his assumption that I knew little of one of the subjects I was most learned in and I'd lost my temper a little.
Turning I marched off, almost immediately regretting my outburst and also quite surprised by it, normally I had a very slow temper that was difficult to set off.
"You should not snap at Eretor so, he and his know far more of war, especially how it feels to lose one than most." I heard an aged voice state behind me, it's tone full of wisdom.
"The fall of Fornost?" I asked softly, turning to face him, my expression both curious and regretful.
"Indeed, though even beyond that his people have been slowly failing for centuries, be it by arrows of the enemy, or just the slow passage of time." The wizard explained sadly.
"Hm, everything dies, even the stars burn out eventually." I pondered, looking up at said celestial bodies in silent contemplation.
Gandalf stood by me thoughtfully for a long moment before he broke the silence by asking. "How do you know my true name?"
"I know much of this world, about those who inhabit it, I know of its fate, of things that have been, will be, and might yet be, do not ask me to tell you too much Olorin, some things that must happen you would try to change, with possibly disastrous consequences." I did not know where the words came from, nor that as I spoke them my eyes had glowed as a being far older and more powerful than either of us could ever hope to be spoke.
Gandalf's eyes had gone wide as "I" spoke, almost dropping to his knees as for but a brief moment the world was blessed by the presence of a power that had not been seen in a literal age.
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Far to the south an ancient evil stirred as for a moment it felt fear, thinking that maybe "they" had decided to interfere as they had done with the plans of its ancient master, only for after a few terrifying seconds the feeling to fade, but not completely disappear.
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In the woods of Lothlorien an ancient elven lady gasped as she felt the momentary pressure of an immense power to the west, one she'd not felt in an age.
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In Imladris an Elvish lord sat straight up in his bed, his eyes almost bulging as that great power so close to him was alike to a physical pressure.
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Whilst Gandalf heard the words and like many others felt the presence of he who gave them to me, in my mind I heard the true voice of the speaker.
'You have been in this time for several days now, I give you this choice, will you stay here and make a difference, will you take this chance to matter, or do you wish to return to your old life?'
I thought for a long moment before asking the most pressing question on my mind. 'This is not a dream?'
Deep booming laughter rang out like the sea impacting a cliff side on a stormy night. 'No it is not, but you have suspected that for many days now have you not?'
'Indeed…if I accept, will I ever see my world again?' I asked cautiously, I did not wish to sign away everything from the modern age, there were several things I'd miss after all.
'I cannot return you later than this day, the others will learn of my interference and will not allow it.' The voice stated with growing urgency. 'Make your choice.'
I pondered it for a long moment before I answered, my eyes closed as I made what up until that point was the hardest decision of my life. 'Very well, I will stay and do my best for this world!' I decided firmly, my mental tone full of conviction.
The presence seemed to pulse with pride. 'It seems I made the right choice…I wish you well, do not forget that though your new body is stronger and greater in all ways than your old one, you are still mortal.' It warned beginning to fade from my mind. 'I give you this one gift, it would not do for a Numenorean to be unable to speak with his people, no?' and so saying for the second time that day I felt a monumental amount of knowledge being given to me, though this time it was not so painful, instead it was far more gentle.
'Wait! Who are you?' I called after it
'You will know in time, this has not been our last meeting.' The voice stated as it fully faded from my mind.
It was only after it'd disappeared that I realised that the entire conversation had been in English…
Turning to Gandalf I expected a very long interrogation, instead I saw him smiling at me and nodding his head, stating before I could even open my mouth. "You have been chosen by a being far beyond me, I will not question it."
"Though I will ask that you don't refer to me by my true name in the presence of others, we are here to guide the peoples of this world, not lead them."
I nodded in understanding, but unable to help myself replied in perfect Sindarin. "Of course Mithrandir."
Immediately bursting out into a full on belly laugh at his bamboozled expression, tapping the side of my head I stated once i'd calmed down. "A little gift from our powerful visitor."
The old wizard harrumphed but still couldn't help his own small smile. "Indeed, though I will say this, any other languages you can learn in your own time!"
Chuckling I looked back up to the stars. "I'm sorry for snapping at Eretor, I just don't enjoy being treated as though I'm a child."
Gandalf hummed for a moment and pulled out his pipe before answering. "Numenoreans aren't considered to be adults until they reach the age of twenty-five, by the standards of your new people, you are still a child."
I raised a brow at that, my eyes wide as I thought. "Huh, well that makes sense, I guess that explains why I look so young…damnit and I had a beard too!" I exclaimed in mock fury, turning to grin at the wizard who was chuckling in amusement.
"Indeed? Well give it a decade or so and you should have one again." The old wizard consoled, doing his best to hide his chuckles.
"You speak of a decade as I would a month Mithrandir." I stated with a rueful chuckle. 'Though I suppose in time I will too.' I thought to myself.
"When you're as old as I, a decade is closer to a minute." The old wizard chuckled.
Shaking my head I thought for a moment. "Have you ever been to the shire?" I asked idly, looking away from the old wizard to the stars, I wanted to know if he'd already started to make connections there.
"Indeed I have, a most pleasant place, the Hobbits are polite and welcoming enough, though they do not like those who disturb the peace." The ancient answered, looking at me curiously. "Why do you ask?"
I nodded and smiled softly. "Indeed it sounds similar to where I grew up, I would like to visit there one day…" I explained easily, not telling him the true reason I'd asked.
"I feel I should go apologise to Eretor…"I admitted after a long moment of silence and with a sigh.
"That would be for the best." The old wizard stated with a small smile, his eyes twinkling and Full of warmth.
Nodding to the wizard I sighed and made my way back towards the camp, doing my best not to pout like a five-year old. 'This is going to suck.' I whined to myself silently.
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The next day I found myself walking alongside Gandalf and Eretor, enjoying being able to hold a conversation far more than I could say, though my thoughts were distracted by what'd happened the night before, now that I'd had the chance to sleep on it, the knowledge that I was actually in Middle-Earth was overwhelming, it was everything I could do to stop myself from panicking.
"I'll need to learn to use a bow." I stated thoughtfully. "Hunting with a sword isn't particularly practical." I continued, the conversation was in Sindarin as I'd wanted to practice with that language.
"Indeed it is not!" Gandalf stated with a warm chuckle, Eretor giving one of his little half smiles as he listened, I'd noticed he wasn't a particularly talkative man. "Have you never been hunting?" Gandalf asked curiously.
"No, in my time there isn't any real point, we can buy our food from great…" Here for a moment I paused as I tried to find the correct word. "Great markets, you can buy all forms of food and drink from them."
"Fascinating, is the food hunted for these markets or is it all from farms?" The wizard asked, though I could see that Eretor looked thoroughly bored.
"The latter, hunting without good reason is seen by most people in civilised countries to be pointlessly cruel." I stated with a small shrug. "Though I suppose I'll have to learn no? I can't expect others to keep providing my food for me…though it has been nice!" I finished cheerfully.
"Get yourself a good wife and you'll not have to worry about cooking your own food." Eretor stated with a small smile, Gandalf not saying anything, though he nodded in agreement.
I couldn't help but gape at him in shock for a long moment before my brain re-engaged and I realised that for a world at this technological and societal level that had been a perfectly reasonable statement, chuckling nervously I answered. "You could not get away with saying such things in my time friend."
Eretor seemed to blink for a moment in confusion at my reaction before he replied. "Why not? The man brings in the food and money, the woman looks after the home, raises the children and cooks, is that not how it is in your time?"
I noticed that Gandalf seemed rather interested in my answer as well. "That is a rather complicated question to answer, essentially in my time women are fully a man's equal, most women have jobs, can go into government, hell my country has had a queen for the last seventy years, it has been that way in my nation for over a century."
Before he could reply Gandalf spoke up. "You speak of centuries as though they are some great span of time, as though so much can change in so short an age."
"Mithrandir, in the last one-hundred-and-twenty years, man has gone from being bound to the earth to landing on the moon." I stated firmly, though I knew why he spoke as he did, in Middle-Earth very little did tend to happen in a century, after all most of the great beings that ruled in this time either had extended, or unlimited lifespans.
Gandalf and Eretor immediately stopped and stared at me, though it took me a moment to realise and turn to face them. "W-what?" Gandalf gasped, his eyes wide, Eretor too was staring at me in shock. "H-how is that possible?!" the Maiar snapped.
"You shouldn't be surprised Mithrandir, Men have a habit of doing the impossible." I stated with a slightly smug grin, though after a moment I continued. "In all honesty it was a feat of machines, not magic, we were able to create a starship, seal it against the void and then essentially put a really big firework on one end." I explained, trying my best to describe one of the most technologically impressive feats of man to a people who had no idea how to make something as simple as gunpowder.
The ancient wizard just stared at me silently for a long moment, before then shaking his head in amazement and stating. "Incredible."
Eretor seemed to be in agreement, though after a moment he asked. "No magic? Not even the aid of the elves?"
"No it was entirely Man's achievement." I stated with a proud smile, then I slapped him on the shoulder. "Our achievement."
One thing I'd already decided that the men of this time needed was more pride in themselves, they seemed, at least from what little I'd observed to be like younger siblings following around their elders, at least when it came to the elves.
He gave me a small smile and a nod at that, though I completely missed Gandalf's frown at my back.
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That night we once again gathered around the fire, i'd been invited to sit with Gleodan and the guards of the caravan along with his children, of course Gandalf and Eretor were also invited, though I noted much to my distress that I'd been placed next to L'eodiona, who'd done as much as she could to pretty herself up, I hadn't yet quite figured out how to tell her I was absolutely not interested, I'd rather not make the daughter of my host cry after all.
For the most part I sat quietly and observed, I didn't particularly feel like I could add much to the conversations going on about me, I knew little of wool prices and such, though I did learn our final destination, we were making for the trading village of Bree.
Finally after a small while Gleodan turned his attention to me. "My daughter tells me you have a fair singing voice Marcus, would you care to sing something from your land for us?" he asked with a small smile, though judging by the look of eagerness on the children's faces I'd not likely escape his request.
It'd been decided by myself and Gandalf to simply tell the others that I was from a distant land, hence why he'd asked for a song from my land and not something more…esoteric.
"Oh! Could you sing for us that song from the other day? I'd love to know it's words!" L'eodiona near begged, giving me a look that told me she was used to manipulating her father.
"No! I want to hear a song about fighting!" Gleothain demanded, only to get a light slap upside the head and a warning of. "Manners." From his father.
Knowing this wasn't a battle I was going to win I answered after a moment. "I'm afraid that I lack any instruments required for most of my people's music, and even if I had any I'd not know how to play them, I'm about as musically skilled as a drunken gerbil." I stated with a grin, getting chuckles out of those at the table at the mental image. "I won't sing that song I was singing the other day, as I actually need more than one person to do it proper justice." I explained to L'eodiona.
"Still I'll do my best." Standing I thought for a long moment before the perfect song came to me.
"Oh, misty eye of the mountain below
Keep careful watch of my brothers' souls
And should the sky be filled with fire and smoke
Keep watching over Durin's sons"
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Gandalf knew his eyes were wide as he listened to the boy sing, though it was not his voice that got that reaction, no as though his voice was fair what had caught the ancient wizards ear was the subject. 'He's singing about the fall of the lonely mountain?!' he thought in surprise
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"And if we should die tonight
Then we should all die together
Raise a glass of wine for the last time."
Gleodan found himself nodding to the words in appreciation, that sounded right to him, it was the right way for a man and his friends to go.
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"Oh, should my people fall
Then surely I'll do the same
Confined in mountain halls
We got too close to the flame."
Eretor looked down at his hands as the lad sung, those words in particular stood out to him, his people had fallen after all, their king with them, now they were just a few scattered remnants.
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"And if the night is burning
I will cover my eyes
For if the dark returns
Then my brothers will die
And as the sky is falling down
It crashed into this lonely town
And with that shadow upon the ground
I hear my people screaming out
Now I see fire
Inside the mountains
I see fire
Burning the trees
I see fire
Hollowing souls
I see fire
Blood in the breeze
I see fire
Oh you know I saw a city burning out
And I see fire
Feel the heat upon my skin, yeah
And I see fire
And I see fire burn on and on the mountain side."
As he sang L'eodiona felt tears gather in her eyes, it was such a beautiful thing and he sang it so passionately, it was sad, powerful and majestic all at once, she'd never heard it's like, though as he built towards the end, his eyes seemed to blaze as it gained an almost defiant, nay challenging ring to it.
"That was beautiful." She breathed, her eyes wide as she looked up to him. "What was it about?"
He seemed to think for a moment before he answered. "Around sixty years ago the city of Dale and the Dwarfish city of Erebor were attacked by the dragon Smaug, that song was inspired both by the attack and the words of the prince of Erebor, Thorin Oakenshield."
At that the old wise-man Gandalf seemed to burst into a coughing fit.
"I did not realise there were any dragons left in the world…" her father muttered, looking just a little worried.
"There is one, and luckily for us Smaug the Terrible is the least of his kind." The tall young Numenorean stated with a small smile.
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"How so?" L'eodiona asked curiously, tilting her head to look up at me.
"Tell me, who here has heard of Ancalagon the Black?" I asked with a small smile, trying not to laugh as Gandalf nearly fell off his chair in shock, I'd not read the Silmarillion, but dragons had absolutely fascinated me since I was a very small boy.
Seeing a lot of confused looks and one very shaken looking wizard I launched into a tale of the last days of Beleriand.
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The next day I rose and continued with what was swiftly becoming routine, though I once again had the company of Eretor and a surprisingly quiet Gandalf.
After a few hours of idle conversation, mostly centred around Eretor asking me things about Numenor and other ancient kingdoms of men we were distracted when we crested yet another hill, only to see a (by my reckoning) small village.
"That's it then? That's Bree?" I asked Eretor curiously, turning to look at him, only for Gandalf to finally speak up.
"Indeed It is…"
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Right! Another chapter done, and the longest one yet!
I know there are going to be some questions about the being that communicated through Marcus and gave all the great powers such a fright. I won't tell you who it is, but I will say it was one of the Valar, the reason why is that I realised that they'd almost certainly notice if someone started fiddling with time and or dimensions, so instead I had one of them do it.
Now, I feel like I should explain that Marcus has done a fair bit of reading about the Legendarium, but he hadn't actually read any of the books so his knowledge is a bit patchy, he's only watched the films.
As ever, feel free to leave a review and constructive criticism.