The Sinyaquenta: Tales of Arda and the Galaxy

by Lord Exar Kun

Following the end of 'Arda Unleashed' this book contains the varied tales, adventures and stories of characters both old and new. Follow them through this new galaxy. Follow Sauron, Anakin, Obi-Wan, Padme, Aragorn, Gandalf and many more in the lead up to the next step in the great tale of Arda in the Galaxy. Much will change, for good and for ill. Time alone shall tell.

8. New Board – Familiar Pieces

Chapter 8

New Board – Familiar Pieces

Today was the day. It had been perhaps a long time coming? Anakin wasn't sure. What he was sure of, was that he could see the restrained glowing excitement in the eyes of both Merry and Pippin. The two little hobbit friends of his were dutifully waiting for him and the others. Their adventuring and their much appreciated help from the quest for the Ring and the war; as well as Anakin and the Republic's own shenanigans, did not take away from their love of their home. Something Anakin found very admirable. He had heard of this Shire many times. From those two, from Gandalf, some from Aragorn who had seen it from a distance, and of course from Sam and Frodo. Both of whom he looked forward to seeing again, back now comfortably in their homes.

Anakin stepped forward towards the main doorway into the Great Hall and throne room of Minas Tirith. The twin idle guards with their tall frilled hats, and lances paid him no mind. Long understanding now that he, Obi-Wan, even his wife and the machines, the droids, were given freedom to move in and out as they wished. Anakin was sure that was an honor few could claim to have been given by Aragorn.

All the same he bowed his head in basic courtesy and allowed them to silently push the doors open for him. Their helms tipping gently in both reciprocation as well as a general welcoming to Elessar's hall. The King of Gondor, and the Reunited Kingdom. Heck of a job if you asked Anakin, but then…no one did. Honestly, knowing himself? Probably for the better.

With a self pointed smirk he entered the hall. His dark robes fluttering around him with every pace. Every footfall caused a familiar echo and thud. However, Anakin paid it no mind. Instead he focused his gaze on the distant left from his point of view. Off to the side, set away from the center where ahead lay the two chairs of either the Steward's seats, and the King's throne, a small group of familiar faces were gathered around the small holotable left behind for communication purposes. Mobile, easily able to be brought in and out of the throne or wherever Aragorn could need it. Anakin immediately wondered why it was out, but he could simply ask.

Standing around it were Aragorn, fancifully dressed in a fine red tunic underneath a black vest bearing the White tree embroidered in shimmering white with matching dark trousers. As well, the Steward, following in his father's footsteps was Faramir, with whom Anakin had some small prior interaction and familiarity with. Legolas and Gimli were beside one another on the far side facing Anakin as he entered. The golden haired elf with his hands behind his back, and a distant nod aimed at Anakin. He was sure to smile in response. While Gimli hadn't noticed him yet, and leaned on one of his ax's as his eyes tilted back and forth over the holoprojection between himself and all the others.

The final two present had their backs to Anakin, facing away from him. Both being the every white clad Gandalf, and Obi-Wan. Absently, Anakin's mind recalled the little 'training' session he had with Master Windu the other day. One of the hardest training sessions he could remember of late. Not only because his body was not yet quite back to what it had been before…Palpatine had decided to clumsily attempt a fast track towards his own corruption. Rather, it was also because Anakin had never actually been given the honor of facing Master Windu's Vaapad form head on. Facing it with as much intensity as he could muster at the time against his Djem So had been exhilarating. Feeling the flow of the darker intentions and the zeal for battle filter through Master Windu out with every strike had been eye opening. Sensing the dark side call to Windu through every overhead strike, the zipping careful control of his body through flanking thrusts over and over, the elegant twirls of his body in ripostes – all of it had been unleashed through vaapad's careful control. Let loose, and disallowed from overtaking him.

Anakin instantly felt a deep desire to know it. To feel vaapad through his own ministrations and body. Though, he was quick to restrain himself. Lust for knowledge…that was his weakness. He knew that, especially these days. The desire to know more, to be empowered more. Mace Windu had offered to teach him, that alone was honor enough. With time at his own pace, Mace would teach Anakin. As the newly minted Jedi Master approached his friends, he promised himself once more that he would accept it as it came. Endeavoring not to be another Sora Bulq, and to honor Master Windu's newfound and welcomed trust in him, Anakin Skywalker.

"So!" Anakin began with a loud bark. Causing both Gimli and Obi-Wan, who undoubtedly had sensed his approach, to jump. A glare in his old Master's eyes as he turned to face Anakin. The younger man passed a grin on completion of approach, and whacked his left arm around Obi-Wan's half-turned head and neck onto his left shoulder.

"What's the meeting about? Not me I hope? I haven't done anything too crazy…recently. That I can remember."

"Are you sure?" Obi-Wan jabbed back, cocking a quizzical familiar brow. "If I had a credit for every time I had to discover something you did after the fact Anakin-"

"I know, I know." Anakin patted his old mentor's shoulder and released him. "You'd be a very rich Jedi. Which, if I'm not mistaken, goes against the Code. Somehow."

"You really want to get into going against what the Code intends, my old Padawan?"

"Nope." Anakin smiled and threw his hands up. "Apologies, Master. I concede. But, what's everyone looking at?"

Anakin motioned to the table. Seeing a holographic projection of the continent. The whole thing, even the far eastern and southern lands that he had never been to. Well, the far north where they were intending to go today had also been unexplored…a lot hadn't been seen.

"Ah," Gimli began for everyone else. "Before your interruption, laddie, we were discussing who needed to go where!"

"What do you mean?" Anakin wondered as Gandalf chimed in with a chuckle.

"Your little trip to the Shire has become well known among friends. Some here have kindly asked to be given a quick return to their homes or otherwise places in need of going. If there is no concern or issue?"

"None at all." Obi-Wan answered.

"Of course not." Anakin agreed. "Who's coming?"

"That would be me!" Gimli huffed. "It's been a long while since I have seen me' father and the Lonely Mountain! I have word to bring to King Thorin on the trip!"

"Only good things to report, I hope, Master Dwarf?" Anakin beamed a knowing smirk. The bearded stout warrior with his hidden heart of gold sputtered.

"You mind what I say when I let you, laddie!"

"Yeah, yeah." Anakin waved him off. Both men shared gruff laughter through winced eyes. The others watching the feigned spat either shaking their heads, or in Obi-Wan's case rolling his eyes.

"You two…"

"I shall be coming along too." Gandalf interjected.

"Oh yeah? To the Shire?"

"No." Gandalf answered Anakin, shaking his head softly. A distant look in his eyes. The pools glimmering as his mind went…somewhere else. "I will be let off at Isengard. Word has reached Minas Tirith and the King in our absence. Something has stirred in the north from the west. Something…someone of my kin came from across the great seas to the west. Fear and ill words in the way of gossip have given way to the men of Rohan."

"Kin?" Anakin repeated. "You mean someone like you…like Sauron?"

"Be careful not to think of all who are of the Ainur as either like me or the Enemy." Gandalf warned. "We are each of us our own being. We have thoughts, hopes, and desires just as any among the race of Men or Elves. Such thinking has caused…disturbance."

"Where are they?" Anakin wondered. His thoughts filled with ideas of another wizard or powerful entity that was…hard to describe like the visage Sauron had taken on the fields of Rohan so many months ago now.

"We don't know." Aragorn piped in and answered. A saddened and thoughtful dip in his expression. His own eyes, not moving from the map. Etching themselves across it. Across every valley and mountain range. "Word came from Éomer of rumors and meetings had with one who clothed themselves in the raiment of a woman within Isengard. Treebeard seemed to have no issue nor quarrel with them. The men, however, with Saruman's stink so close in mind may have been accusatory and…discourteous."

"Well surely they can't be mad about that sort of thing?" Anakin looked between Gandalf and Aragorn. "Right, Gandalf?"

"I would think not."

"But…?" Anakin pressed as he sensed the word hang in the air.

"It may be nothing." Gandalf began. "But, no word has come of their travel. They moved into the east and have not been seen or heard from among friends and allies."

"Well you've only just got back." Anakin offered up hopefully.

"This is true. But, it is also why I wish to retrace what movements I can." Gandalf answered. "I do not wish for one who comes from Aman and beyond to be left free to explore Middle-Earth without proper guidance. Understanding the ways of mortal folk can be difficult. Especially for those among my kin who have spent most of Creation by Eru's throne."

"You've lost me…a little."

"Needn't you worry about such things, my friend." Gandalf huffed a long sigh. Planting what Anakin sensed to be a genuine, but not full smile onto his aged face. His eyes showed he was earnestly concerned about this…known unknown.

"I shall do what I can to find them and help them. If I can."

"A good thought." Aragorn agreed. "They, she, whomever is welcome within the White City if it so suits them, Gandalf."

"My thanks. But, first, Isengard." Gandalf offered. Turning his voice to a more jovial tone. Anakin presumed to lessen the ebb and undertone of…something akin to anxiety in the air. It was welcomed, but Anakin didn't quite like the sound of things. But, he'd keep them to himself.

"Well…is anyone else in need of a lift?"

"I shall travel with Gimli and leave with him." The quiet and reserved Legolas spoke up. Breaking some of the tension that had bled into the air. "I would like to visit my father within Eryn Lasgalen."

"Aye! Welcome company, my Princeling friend!" Gimli chortled and tapped his ax. The elf closed and undoubtedly rolled his eyes. Smiling all the same in good humor.

For his part, Anakin nodded and looked about the others.

"Well, I guess that's the traveling itinerary then?"

"It would appear so." Obi-Wan hummed absently. "Though there is another matter Aragorn wishes to speak with us about."

"Now?" Anakin asked and both Aragorn and Faramir pushed closer to the holotable. The King, however, was the one to speak after.

"We are among friends. I see no reason to keep such talk from those I trust with my life on such matters."

"Fair enough." Anakin nodded. "What's the deal?"

"The 'deal' is a request I have of your Order, but you two would fit well enough for the venture." Aragorn continued and pressed his right hand forward pointing to the south of Gondor. The mouth of the large river Anakin and Obi-Wan had been on during their time here, the Anduin, caught Anakin's eyes. But, Aragorn pointed towards another visible river. Smaller, south of the Anduin's mouth led from the mountains of old Mordor to the sea.

"That is the Poros. A small river that roughly divides the land of Gondor from Harad. Recently, Gondor has had…several smaller skirmishes with those from Harad. Though the Corsairs consider themselves less of the Haradrim, and more men of Umbar, the point stands."

"Skirmishes?" Anakin repeated, his eyes narrowing. "What kind of skirmishes?"

"Seaward, my friend." Faramir offered. The Steward's familiar soft but well-mannered voice was unique and called all to attention as he pointedly stared at the open seas to the south of Gondor's landmass. "The Corsairs of Umbar have returned to their ways quicker than we would have hoped after the defeat of Sauron. Many ships, fishers, traders, and what patrols the lords could muster have all been at times and points assailed. Leading to…" The Chancellor paused, clearly unsure if he should say more. Though, Aragorn finished for him.

"A tragic defeat. It occurred around the time the rest of your Order came to Arda."

"Why didn't you say anything before?!" Anakin wondered. Obi-Wan cast him an ignored side-eye. "You know all you had to do was ask for help and we would've come, Aragorn."

"A welcome offer." The bearded King smiled knowingly. "Don't think I didn't know that already, Anakin. However, when these attacks began you, Obi-Wan and even Gandalf were quite busy with affairs on your planet. Calling for aid at such a time would have been taxing. I had not known, but all the better I chose not to ask for any such aid."

"Well…alright sure." Anakin shrugged. "But, we have an entire warship in orbit over the planet. Couldn't they have-"

"Anakin." Obi-Wan cut him off. The younger Master turned to him quizzically. "Captain Maesters and his crew are meant to guard the planet from any potential further Separatist incursion. The Republic has no security guarantees with Arda. It's not part of the Republic or partnered yet."

"Well, why not?" Anakin narrowed his gaze again, though out of curiosity and not anger.

"I cannot make a decision of such scale on my own, my friend." Aragorn…perhaps wisely offered. "I am King of one land and people. I do not lead nor rule those in the far east or south, nor the dwarves or elves. Such a decision, and such a commitment…these things cannot and should not be made for expediency and immediate reprieve. As much as I may have wanted or liked to have had some of those fantastical shuttles and gunships I've seen in action wielded for Gondor's defense – I cannot nor will I surrender Arda over to any other body on my own."

"Alright…well fair." Anakin again relented. Obi-Wan cocking his brow in silent damnable pride at his old padawan's growing pragmatic approach to matters.

"But, with how things sound with these Corsairs and Harad and the east, whatever have you, you're not likely to ever get to that consensus point."

"Perhaps that is the fate of our world, Anakin." A statement not a question from Gandalf. The softly wise voice of the wizard grunted a breath. "The harder path, the longer path should be taken where the lives of many uncounted are concerned where you cannot hope to know what a moment's choice could very well lead to."

"I suppose. But, wasn't the whole point of that council in Rivendell about coming together to solve problems?"

"Yes." Gandalf smirked. "I'm glad you remember, lad!"

"Alright…" Anakin sputtered, sensing a subtle jab. "Then what…" He stopped himself. The gears turning, his eyes wincing in thought and a realization dawning as he uttered a sarcastic scoff.

"That's why you're asking for our help here rather than going through all the political channels."

"Asking for aid from those beyond your borders does not always mean the armies of an entire kingdom or nation come to the call. The last war should have taught us that, no?" Aragorn hummed a chortle. Leading to the others nodding in mixed mumbling or grumbling agreements.

"Okay…alright, fair enough!" Anakin shrugged. Another point he had jumped to a conclusion of he saw the error in. Rather than feeling embarrassed he would take that to heart.

"Whatever you need, I and I assume this old curmudgeon here will do what we can."

"Offering me up without conferring with me again, are we, Anakin?"

"Shut up. You know you're going to help."

"Ugh…" Obi-Wan sighed and said nothing. Anakin grinned. He was right.

"How do you put up with him, Master Kenobi?!" Gimli barked and Obi-Wan threw his hands up.

"Sheer willpower, Gimli. Sheer willpower."

"Yeah, laugh it up, you two." Anakin waved them both off. Smiling as he turned his attention back to Aragorn. "I got us off track, apologies. What's needed?"

"No apology is necessary." Aragorn quickly rebuked, and refocused himself. "My Lord Chancellor." He prompted Faramir who had watched the whole exchange amusedly.

"Of course, your Highness." Faramir began. "So far the men of Harad have not fully committed themselves to open war with Gondor. The losses both at Pelennor and in the battles before and after have left them weakened, but not yet defeated. Patrols and outposts are on the southern bank of the Poros. Our scouts have reported no movement of men otherwise."

"Well that's good." Anakin nodded along.

"Indeed." Faramir absently agreed. "However, they shield Umbar from any advance on foot. If Gondor were to marshal her armies and march down into Harad to attack Umbar we would doubtless incur the wrath and attacks of the Haradrim."

"Hmm…" Obi-Wan hummed, petting his beard in his oh so familiar thoughtful stance. "Do you know if this is deliberate? Do those in Harad understand they are maintaining a sort of political wall with very real manpower to obstruct you and your forces?"

"That much is not yet known." Aragorn answered freely and directly. Appreciable as ever by Anakin. "The men of Harad, like those in the east, have been sent overtures. Gondor has sought to turn their defeats into proper establishments of peace. Treaties to be signed. We have thus far been met with violence."

"Violence?" Anakin repeated questioningly. "What sort of violence?" Both Aragorn and Faramir shared a look. Aragorn bowed his head. A quiet concession and unspoken trust. Faramir then spoke.

"Gondor has sent emissaries into the east. Ill word returns of internal strife and warfare. Yet, those sent into the east were killed. Pieces of them...left for us to find upon their 'return.'"

"Ah…" Anakin cleared his throat in slight discomfort. His scarred body wriggling in sensations of robotic dismemberment. He forced such idle memory-recalls from his head.

"So Gondor is and is not at war?"

"In a sense, yes." Aragorn agreed. "Though no real force of Easterlings nor their nominal allies in the south have marched on Gondor. The allowance of Umbar's Corsairs to resume their piracy can be an ill omen as much as coincidence."

"Coincidences are rarer than some would like to think, I would say." Gimli grumbled.

"Agreed." Anakin nodded. "I'd say those in Umbar are operating with impunity, regardless. The point is moot. Which leaves the sea lanes open."

"Not so much anymore." Faramir countered. "Prince Imrahil suffered a terrible loss at the mouth of the Anduin some weeks back. He and his men fled onto land, and were given freedom to do so by the new leader of the Corsairs."

"Which is the target of my request." Aragorn interjected softly. "Word had come to me and the varied Lords of Gondor of a name. Mahalmion. Itself a rough translation from the Quenya tongue meaning 'Throne Son.'" A moment's pause followed. Gandalf's eyes tilted to Aragorn while Anakin peered down onto the holotable before speaking for all.

"I'm gonna guess that probably means whoever this Mahalmion is wants a throne that isn't Umbar?"

"Umbar was once part of Gondor. It is where many who fell under Sauron's sway settled before Númenor's fall. Even when Gondor was established Umbar has been a thorn in many a king's side. Time and again falling under Gondor's control and sway and then breaking free. Often with Sauron or Harad's aid." Aragorn continued.

"I visited Umbar many years ago during my travels. Of course none knew who I was. I was but a stranger. The anger and discontent with Gondor runs strong. As do the memories of Númenor and the blood of her people. Traces yet remain of those clothes in the blackened armor of the old guard. The King's Men. These Black Númenoreans claim they can trace their lineage back to the many houses of Númenor. I do not doubt their claims. Yet, this Mahalmion...it is clear they represent some branch, some House that seeks to lay claim to the throne of Gondor. Their actions, their words and their ability to lead the Corsairs so suddenly and strongly speak of support from the landed of Umbar, perhaps even Harad as well, and at least some agreement to their claim. No Lord even of Umbar would brazenly support someone without a claim. Weak or mired by doubt perhaps? But, my heart speaks to me otherwise of this Mahalmion." Aragorn's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Himself tracing the blue shimmering lights of the holotable.

"I see quite a bit has happened here while we've been away." Anakin intoned with a sigh. "But, that still leaves the question on the table, uh, no pun intended." Anakin smirked, leading to a few scattered chuckles to hopefully lighten the mood.

"What do you need from us?"

"A fair question." Aragorn pointed to the Poros River again. "An overture was sent again. This time, it was not met with violence. A letter was sent to this Mahalmion. Written by myself, it requested of him a meeting. One where we bring small retinues of our choosing and we meet at the Poros. A few days past, we received a letter in turn. Mahalmion has agreed to the meeting."

"I don't know if I'd trust such a letter." Anakin shrugged. "But, it is your call."

"No meeting like this is to be trusted at face value, Anakin." Obi-Wan offered. "But I would guess this meeting is in hopes of stopping the attacks?"

"Correct." Aragorn nodded. "Peace is not expected. I hold no assumptions that peace will be struck with one meeting. If possible, however, I would much prefer a chance to reach peace through words than through the sword."

"A wise decision." Gandalf nodded. "The less needless blood spilled the better for this new Age."

"It is still dangerous." Legolas added his own thoughts. Softly spoken, but deadly serious. "Going that far south from the reach of your friends and soldiers...you would not be the first King of Gondor to do such and be lost…" An ill omen left to hang in the air. Faramir did not speak, but his eyes narrowed. Worried and contemplative on the elf's words.

"That's where you would come in, my friends." Aragorn undercut the tension with a knowing smile. Looking to both the Jedi present. "My Chancellor and the Lords will feel much put at ease if you two went with me along with a number of my personal guard."

"Expecting a fight in need of Jedi?" Anakin tilted his head. "Or, just being that much doubly sure you can count on us?" He then smirked.

"If an ambush should come, I have seen you two in battle. Your aid and skill would be most welcome, of course. And, you two are unlikely to be well known in Harad. Less so in Umbar. You are as Men, but fight with power like that of wizards. If Mahalmion proves himself to be untrustworthy or without honor you two would be assured protection of my person. Not for myself, but for Gondor."

"A King's life can make or break his Kingdom." Gandalf added. "It would put my mind at ease as well. If you two would be willing?"

"You kidding me?" Anakin scoffed. "Look at this map! I've only seen parts of this world...and it was one of the greatest adventures I've ever been on. Danger, horror...sadness and all. The galaxy is so vast and full of life and worlds...sometimes you forget just how bountiful and unique every one of those worlds can be...as they are. Arda is certainly more interesting than most. There's a...I don't know. Something in its air? Its existence. Serene, mysterious. A lot. Plus," Anakin bowed his head Aragorn's way. "Whatever you need of me, Aragorn, you have it. Especially if you're walking into a trap or danger of any kind. Me and Obi-Wan, we've done our fair share of that."

"Don't remind me, Anakin." Obi-Wan sighed. "Are you sure you could do this?"

"My body's healing, Master. This doesn't sound like it'll be too hard. One way or another. Plus we owe it to Aragorn."

"P-"

"Whether he'll admit to it, or accept the way I just said that or not." Anakin preempted his friend as Aragorn made to speak. Closing his mouth and shaking his head with the whisper of a laugh under his breath.

"What about you, Master? You in?" Obi-Wan grumbled a sigh. Running his right hand along the back of his head. Through the many tendrils of his hair. Slow, then fast, and then his hand down his neck.

"You think I'd let you do this on your own, Anakin? You're quite clueless sometimes, my friend."

"You just wanna go on another little adventure like me. Don't hide behind your mask of altruism."

Obi-Wan chortled and said no more. Bowing his head.

"We're in." Anakin spoke for both and Aragorn bowed his head thankfully.

"You both have my gratitude. But, needn't either of you postpone your trip to the north. Your ships make such travel quick anyways. We won't leave for the Poros for a week's time. If that is acceptable?"

"More than enough time, Aragorn." Obi-Wan assured.

"I shall make what arrangements are necessary, your Highness." Faramir bowed.

"Very good."

"Looks like we got another trek across Middle-Earth in while we're both here, Master!"

"And just like last time, Anakin, it's because you made it happen."

"And just like last time, you know you want to go, Master!"

"You will be the death of me, Anakin."

"Ship's sailed Master. Ship's sailed."

Both men laughed, as the small group began to break up and prepare for trips of their own, or whatever preparations otherwise needed to be done.

---

A Day Later…

Prince Amathir stood on a hill. A green field of many blades of grass. They swayed in a northerly direction as wind fluttered up from the sea to the south. His eyes stared numbly into the distance as the ruined city, his city, of Pelargir shadowed his vision. The great ring of the city cracked and broken by the raining fires of zipping and moaning metal beasts. Many months before.

The ire he felt continued. The anger and chasm formed by so many lost...by his own loss. A city his father and his father before him for many generations all had stood watch. All had remained loyal to Gondor. Under King and under Steward. To be met with tragedy, and to be the one to have to endure such times? Amathir could not bear it. He would not bear it. A curse it was. To be under his tenure that the city he so loved had fallen. That his family had gone where he could not follow. His line was broken. The city, potentially beyond hope of ever returning. Dark were his days of late and dark was all he could foresee. Now was the time of recrimination, of wrath of ruin, and of wolves.

To his mind floated the image of Gondor's current 'King.' Amathir idly tilted his head right and spat onto the grass. An act beneath a Lord of his stature and station, but he didn't care for decorum set down by old landed dead men. Not in these, his days. One day when Aragorn; son of the desiccated north with its wilds and lesser men, when that man finally found rest on a field forgotten and bled dry of all so-called Númenorean blood – then Amathir would spit upon the plot they would till of soil where old bones of that man rest.

His hands quaked in ire. Silent as it was deadly. His whole body shivered, but he said nothing. His teeth ground against one another. Behind him there was a vast encampment. Many tents, hundreds upon hundreds of them. Those who had escaped the destruction of the city in days past had been given what protection Amathir and the so-called King could scrape together while he rested comfortably within the chambers of the White City. The women and their children tended their duties. Often idling among their cots or tents with little else to do but tend to their children who played games. Boys would be knights or orcs and battle. The girls would watch, some would take part, others would be found studying from those learned men or women were who willing to give lessons freely. So many of them orphaned without a mother or father or kin of any sort to look out for them. Dark were their days and Amathir knew dark would be their lives. There was no doubt in his mind, and no 'hope.' The word itself made him sick in these moments of thought.

Down the hill as it sloped onto a lower elevation of land there could be seen the men of Pelargir, or what men had been sent from Minas Tirith, some from Ithilien, others from Dol Amroth, and less still, but they had come from as far as Anfalas. Travelers, perhaps poachers? Amathir didn't know but he trusted not a one of them. Even as they joined the remainder of Pelargir's men in pulling debris, and ruins from the old city. Even now, so long after the waters were being cleared and the destroyed stones of shops and homes or towers were being dragged and cleared. For it was the will of the King, supposedly, that Pelargir be rebuilt. Amathir welcomed what pathetic overtures were made for his city. What coin was sent, what food and what cloth. Engineers. Men who had studied the plans and texts of those who had come before came to the hills overlooking Pelargir's carcass. Learned and studious men who dug through the annals of Minas Tirith's libraries. Promising with doubtless, honeyed and prepared words to speak of their conviction that Pelargir would be rebuilt greater than before. Amathir would laugh in their faces were he not too busy restraining himself from running his sword through them there and then.

Thousands of men worked to pull debris and thousands of men worked to begin setting foundations for the sea city. They sought to erase memories of when fire fell. When screams sang, when metal beasts came from the north and returned the fires as had fallen onto the beasts that had been unleashed. Unleashed by the King's will and allowance. The King looked to make it so that Pelargir's deathly rattles at the end of its life can be replaced by some reborn, or birthed fabrication. Made in the image of Pelargir...it would never be Pelargir. Just as Gondor would never be Gondor with him as its King. Now it was up to those willing to do the hard thing to make things right. Be they of Harad, Rhûn, Umbar, or from who knows where in the case of Taruk Koll! If Gondor had to feel but the nip of the flames that had turned Pelargir to ash to waken and douse those fires and make peace...so be it.

"My Lord." Amathir turned as one of his men stepped forward. Pausing and planting his right gloved hand upon his breastplate. Bowing as he greeted Amathir.

"Captain?"

"A letter, my Prince. Arrived by messenger bird just a moment ago."

"My thanks." Amathir nodded. Retrieving the letter quickly and allowing the Captain to bow again and part company back to his duties. Keeping the vast camp in line and calm any of the rabble rowdiness. Silently, the Prince pulled the string from the paper. Listening to the crunch with a slight grimace of the sound. Unfurling it to read the words. Whispering them aloud to himself as he did.

"King will leave for Poros in one week. Taking small guard with him. Chancellor will take up official Stewardship at that time. All I know." Amathir repeated slow low as to be but sputtering puffs and gasps along his lips. Humming after and rolling the paper closed.

"Intriguing." He hummed. Just as Amathir knew he was being watched to some capacity it was he who watched the King and Chancellor. It was not by chance, and not by happenstance, and the varied excuses Amathir gave to Taruk Koll he knew he was being watched. They were few, but Amathir was not alone in his disdain for and of the King.

Not even all of the Citadel Guard welcomed their new 'monarch.'

Amathir placed his bets well, and with a smile he marched close to his own personal fire pit. Openly, wantonly, boldly burning the message. Hoping even with a slight elevation to the thrum of his own blood, hoping whatever fool was in camp watching him on behalf of those two in the White Tower, saw him burn a paper they would never see.

Taking inked quill, and paper of his own, Amathir penned a letter of his own. Quickly grabbing a messenger bird of his own and sending it flying. Where to? None could know for sure. But, he knew. To Umbar. To the home of Lady Amdirniel.

Perhaps he and his allies could put Aragorn, Elessar, in a grave sooner than he had thought? Time would tell.

---

Present...

"Well would you look at what we have here!" A whistle sounded from an open doorway. A body froze mid motion and twisted at their right to look behind themselves to find Anakin Skywalker leaning against the stone doorway with a smirk on his ever handsome face. A glint in his distant blue eyes.

"Remind me again how I managed to nab someone as beautiful as you, Padmé?"

"Beautiful? You sure that's the word you're looking for at this angle?" She clicked her tongue derisively, her cheeks burning as she ignored him. Shaking her head as she reached down and scooped little rustling Luke up into her arms.

"You know me too well, my Lady. Though the point stands." Anakin chuckled as he approached her and his son.

"Uh huh. Well you managed to get me probably due to some Jedi mind trick."

"Those work generally on the weak willed."

"Ah 'generally.'" She narrowed her eyes on her husband. "Your powers are never in question, Ani. Merely your use of them."

"Oh hoh!" He wagged his head back and forth. "A challenge. You certainly were back then. Even if you knew from the moment you saw this handsome tall drink of juma walk through the door you had to have him!" He accentuated by motioning both hands down his torso and waist across his body.

"Oh Luke…" Padmé shook herself again. Turning to her son and sighing exasperatedly. "Your father is too stupid...I can only hope you take after me and what I've been told is my intelligence."

"Never claimed I was smart, my Lady."

"Then by the Force...that must make me the stupid one!"

"Alright alright." Anakin chuckled as Padmé feigned a pout. His right hand lifted and tilted her face to look up to him. Thumb and forefinger along her chin. Her deep brown eyes glimmering in natural shimmer as Anakin nearly lost thought looking into them. Instead he beamed a genuine smile.

"You are a tease. And, you are both the smartest and most beautiful woman I've ever known. And hey I've known some smart ones, some attractive ones, but the whole package is hard to find."

"But you've met a few of those have you?" His wife raised both brows. A mischievous look to those brown irises. "Are you saying there's a match for me in the wild?"

"I don't know…" Anakin planted his right hand along his chin in thought. Luke in Padmé's arms kicking his legs. His little face seeming to tilt from Anakin to Padmé. Little thing almost looked like he was gauging the situation. Anakin swelled in silent, and perhaps undue pride, but said nothing of it as he continued to play this little game of tease with Padmé.

"I don't know if any other woman who could match your looks and mind would do that thing where I get on my back and-"

"Alright!" Her eyes widened and she shrunk over slightly. Horror twisting to laughter as she couldn't restrain a grin and blush on her face. "Alright you win, damn you."

"Always do, my Lady."

"Hmph." She huffed and stepped forward. "Hold this wild son of yours who decided to wake up early then, Mister Always Win. I've got to check on your Princess."

"Not even nobility," Anakin hummed victoriously and took Luke who babbled and sputtered damn adorably in his father's eyes. "And here I am with a Princess, and a damn fine Queen! Plus a boy bound to be a Prince. I mean just look at him! Look at you Luke!" Anakin babbled his voice low and nuzzled his face against Luke. The baby sputtering again and swiftly smacking his father's head with his hands.

"Ow..ow! You and your sister…"

"Good Luke. Know when your dad needs a little positive, negative reinforcement."

"Not a good idea to teach them to be cruel, my love."

"It's not cruelty. He's defending his mother's honor against a boorish ruffian."

"Just your type." Anakin grinned and she turned away with another scoff. Burning blush too. Anakin let her go though. He still had it.

"Alright, all jokes aside, how have you been? I know I've been a bit busy going back and forth these last few days. Sorry." Anakin offered preemptively. Padmé marched her way to the finely and ornately wooden crafted crib made for Leia, Luke's set empty beside it. All given freely by Aragorn and Arwen's kindness.

"Don't worry about me, Ani. I've got more than enough help. More than most women in the galaxy. Artoo, Threepio of course, and FourDee are very helpful. I think Threepio is a little jealous." Padmé's voice dropped to a whisper as she ran her hand gently along sleeping baby Leia's stomach. Feeling the rise of it and fall. A serene smile on the woman's features as her daughter slept peacefully.

"FourDee has extensive medical knowledge programmed into him. He's not as...fretting as Threepio, but knows what he's talking about. Every sniffle, burp, belch, vomit...you name it, FourDee will tell you pretty accurately what you're looking at."

"He better." Anakin scoffed as chuckle. "That damn droid put me back together. If I found out only now he had no idea what he was doing it'd be even more of a miracle that I'd be standing here."

"Now that's a nice thought." Padmé retorted over her shoulder. Anakin grimaced.

"Ah...sorry. Didn't mean to bring up...all that."

"You're fine Ani. You're here. With us. That's all that matters."

"Agreed." He smiled her way as she stood back up and came back to her husband and son.

"So...are we still heading out today?"

"All of us, if you want? You can stay here with Aragorn and Arwen if you want. I hear you and the Queen are becoming quite close?"

"She's a very fascinating woman. Elf or not. Who cares? I've met stranger looking women in the galaxy to be blunt about things. Though Arwen has intelligence, looks and a long life to speak of. Plus, those of us who bear royal titles present or past, we can share stories of the parties, galas, on and on. She's remarkable, and bright."

"Hmm, your match?"

"Don't you even dare!" Padmé lightly smacked Anakin's left shoulder and he feigned recoiling in fear.

"Run Luke! Save yourself!"

"Ha ha. Now don't you throw my son, Skywalker!"

"You're a Skywalker too, you know? All in the open too. So many ladies have I disappointed."

"One of them is in this room."

"Oh...that was good." Anakin relented. Padmé shrugged dismissively. Though clearly pleased with herself. Luke sputtered and mumbled something Anakin would swear was a laugh.

"Yeah take her side why don't you, son… Traitor…" Anakin grinned and watched as his son kicked both legs up at him. Defiant to the last.

"Alright here, back to mamma." Anakin surrendered his son. Padmé took him and mumbled nothings to the boy who didn't smack her head. The boy was picking favorites.

"That's fine. I still have Leia on my side!"

"Your father's a big doting fool isn't he, Luke?!" Padmé ignored him and mumbled. Anakin grinning all through the exchange. Letting a moment pass before he returned to the topic at hand.

"Anyways, uh yeah! If you wanted to come along and meet Frodo and Sam that's fine by me. If you want to stay, that's fine too."

"I'll come along, Ani. Just tell me when. How long will we be there?"

"A night I think. Merry and Pippin said there should be plenty of room. Now when I asked about 'big folk' accommodation they sort of...shrugged. But we will have the shuttle...somewhere. Don't wanna scare the hobbits into thinking it's a beast of some kind. Tends to happen on Arda."

"I'm sure." Padmé smiled. "Alright. I'll have what needs to come prepared by Threepio. He's going to be jealous...as jealous as a droid can be, but I say we bring FourDee along just in case we need some help?"

"Good idea." Anakin concurred with the open half-question. "Alright we leave in a few hours. Gandalf, Gimli, Legolas and Obi-Wan will be coming. A few pit stops and the shuttle is their first taste of planetary taxiing services."

"Your true calling? Anakin Skywalker, the Taxi Mogul." Padmé swung her left hand out. Accentuating a sign of some kind. Anakin waved her off.

"Yeah sure! From Jedi to Taxi man. I can smell Master Yoda and Master Windu's nonexistent hairs burning already!" Anakin turned and paced away. "Now get yourself prepared! I gotta go make sure the shuttle's good to go. Don't need my royal retinue riding a bucket now do I?"

"You better not!"

"Oh and wear something nice. Show off that full package!"

"Ani!"

"What?!" Anakin grinned halfway out the door, clinging to the doorway's arching stone.

"You have four standard seconds...three…"

"Love you!" he called and ran off chuckling. Padmé thinly frowned at the door. It gave way to her true smile. Turning down she cooed at Luke again. The boy grasping her upraised forefinger pointing down at him. Her thoughts only briefly fluttering to the upcoming peace negotiations. The itch she felt clawing at the back of her mind to get back to Coruscant. To conduct the business of running the Republic alongside Bail and Mon and all the others since Palpatine's glorious fall.

Glorious? Padmé reeled her head up and back at the word choice.

"Weird." She intoned. Thinking no more of it. Swaddled in her arms, she swayed herself back and forth and hummed to Luke. Her left hand pat Luke's brow. The small baby shook his head. Leading Padmé to merely chortle at his mannerism. Pulling it away as the daylight shining in flicked across the green gem of her new favorite ring.

Her thumb absently slid across it, back and forth.

Back and forth.

---

Elsewhere…

"Come to Order!" A gavel sounded and the many thousands of voices that were interlaced in as many conversations slowly but surely began to wane. Though not fast enough it would seem.

"Come to Order! This body will come to Order!" The gavel bang, bang, and panged again. Until most voices silenced themselves. The many faces turned to the point of origin of the voice.

The room, or rather, the Chamber was a massive rectangle. Able to host thousands and perhaps tens of thousands if all shared their specific cubicles that were subdivided by slabs of metal that were finely crafted. Sleek and each one of the same as all the others. They were rounded off along their tops, and all of them could be retracted back into the floor. Allowing some cubicles or stations to share room if desired, or be private if needed. A measure put in place for voting. The chamber was complete but the grand building it was to be housed within was far from it. Its name was, the Palace of Parliament. The chamber itself was the Galactic Parliament. The new challenger to the maligned and corrupt Galactic, so-called, Senate within the Core, upon Coruscant.

"Thank you all." The Speaker nodded to himself. The man was but a stand in for his official position as Speaker of the Galactic Parliament. A semi-retired member of the Corporate Sector Authority, and at one time, he had been the 'Prex,' or Head of Government as some would say, of the Corporate Sector. The CSA, as it was abbreviated, was a government run by, for and of those corporations that had broken away from Republic oversight and managed their own swath of space. Filled with tens of thousands of planets and many more systems with less than habitable worlds. The Republic had long ago let the CSA form to free themselves of the morass that came with managing the masters of industry where taxes and working rights were concerned. Having an ex Prex, a man who at one time answered to the CSA's Executive Directorship Board on matters of politics, or rather business, was a statement in and of itself.

Upon announcement of the general Armistice between the Confederacy of Independent Systems, and the Galactic Republic, the Corporate Sector Authority was the first localized and independent state to recognize the Confederacy's existence and legitimacy. The CSA sent plenty of representatives, and many of their most happily ardent directors, accountants, corporate officers of varying ranks, all of them had come to 'encourage' the Confederacy in its methods of political foundation and formation. Nominally the CSA had been loyal to the Republic during the war. In reality the government, so-called, was full of sympathizers for the Confederacy. Most notably its methods, and reasons for secession. Now with peace likely across the galaxy and the war devolving into both the Republic and Confederacy stamping down internal local rebellions, the time was ripe for the CSA and the CIS to become open friends. Though, in galactic politics between states friends was merely the word best used to convey meaning. There were no friends in nation-states.

All the same, the ex-Prex, a simple man of well-bred human stock known as Parsivil Tagge of the esteemed Tagge Family. A cousin of the main branch but of no less value. Certainly not where his wealth and stock was concerned. In the minds of the silent leadership of the Confederacy, that is the Separatist Council now dissolved, he was a man of principle, and emulation. To the true power behind the Confederacy, he was a means to an end. Little knowing this. Doubtful he ever would.

For now was the time where the Confederacy began its newfound life. Its birth was to bring great turmoil, tumult and hardship. The people needed to see it. They needed to experience it. They had to, to prepare them for what would come next. Now was the time of glorious profits, and of gallant Corporatism.

"I welcome all the members gathered here at this, the first meeting of the Constitutional Convention for the Reformation and Foundation of the Confederacy of Independent System's Charter." The man read from a prepared datapad. Elder, but not yet too old. His hair was gray, his eyebrows equally so. Flecks of black were in his hair, and a prominent bushy mustache atop his upper lip. His fair flesh was marked by aging spots, but he was not unseemly. He spoke with a Core accent, which made those watching from across the galaxy all too aware of the irony in the Confederacy's prominent anti-Core attitude. But, none who now sat within government could care what patricians thought. Power was currency, and currency is power.

"All members present were hereby invited by those member systems and worlds as have long been allied to the Confederacy in a direct sense, as well as those who have been fundamental in the Confederacy of Independent System's war effort. Now that peace is near at hand this body has been tasked by those persons, planets and necessarily ingrained parties to formulate a new charter, and new Constitution for the government to be bound by." Tagge paused and swept his eyes over the room. The many and varied gathered faces, human, near-human, alien of all kinds, nodded or hummed and grunted in varied manners.

"Very good." He continued. "Our patron protector, and the Supreme Commander of the Droid Armies, General Grievous is currently indisposed with peace efforts and preparations. He has, however, blessed this body with his support to conduct itself in peaceful and proper a manner in the formulation herein with a Constitution, or whatever the article may in the end be called. What matters here, and now is that no parties are to yet be formed. No factionalism should be tolerated. Not yet. Politics comes with the formulation of factions. This is a longstanding reality of life across billions of worlds. Let us not pretend otherwise. However, for a functional government system to be born from the end of the Clone Wars; Force or whatever you may or may not believe, willing – the system within which politics takes place must have a foundation where the art of politicking can take place. For the many varied peoples across the Confederacy's zones and borders of control. For the rights of this state's citizens, old and new. For the protections of those systems and corporations which bring about economic stability and prosperity for all. Not merely the rich, so-called. The Republic may even now scoff at the idea of business friendly government, but they are not necessarily ones to talk. Let the business of government be the business of fostering goods for all. Peace denied to none, and law above all else, the great equalizer of all persons." The room buzzed with more loud and pronounced agreements. Cries in favor, a splattering of applause and cheer. Nothing too rowdy. Not yet.

"Think of me not as someone seeking power." Parsivil continued with a motion of his right hand up. A dismissive flow to his movement. "I am but a friendly face from afar. The government of the Corporate Sector Authority wishes for there to be peace for all. Good governance must be where such peace flows from. Ergo, let it be said I do not seek power. I am but a momentary placeholder for what will follow. When necessary and as needed I will be an intermediary between argumentative parties. The end goal is formation of a new state, a new system and a new order. Freed from the machinations of Count Dooku and his true Master now known, Darth Sidious, Palpatine himself!" A litany and cry then came! Jeers, hisses and curses. Many bodies rose and began snarling in utter contempt. Very few boldly did not join the cacophony, but they needn't do so anyways. Whether they did so for love of Palpatine or for mere lack of care – their position was unheeded without care for. The cam droids zoomed about and showed the galaxy the cloth of what had led the CIS before, being thrust off in violent renunciation.

"Your ire is heard!" Parsivil motioned his right arm out in a limp attempt to silence the jeering. It was welcomed. "So let that anger, that indignation and that contempt for those robed figures who would keep this Confederacy of Independent Systems from reaching its true heights be the leading power behind what we accomplish here today and those days following! Today is the first day of a new era, not merely for the Confederacy but for the galaxy entire! Today, the Constitutional Convention begins! Therefore," Tagge nodded to himself as the jeering became drowned by applause and cheering as the room swelled. "Therefore, I hereby declare the first day of this Convention in session!"

He plucked an actual gavel from beside his right hand across a metal ornate podium that wrapped as a crescent inward towards his slender frame. Parsivil slammed the gavel down and a microphone within the podium thundered the crash through the Parliament Chamber.

A new day for the Confederacy had dawned indeed.

Silent eyes watched the entire affair take place from afar. Burning, the blackened hearts of both orbs tightened in focus. Exhilaration flowed through their body as the plan, the long game came underway.

A new dawn? A New Age indeed.

---

The shuttle occupants at launch were as follows: Anakin, Obi-Wan, Padmé along with little Luke and Leia, FourDee the droid, Gandalf, Gimli, Legolas, Merry and Pippin. The shuttle was the same basic model of little renown but for the twin sided seating it sported within the main cabin. Crammed for everyone but enough room all the same. Especially as Anakin took it upon himself to pilot the shuttle with Obi-Wan in the copilot's seat. The clamor and conversation in the back was mostly between the two hobbits, abounding with excitement at returning to their homes and taking a much needed rest from adventuring and representation on even further worlds and further places having seen so much.

Smiling, Anakin had flown the shuttle north. Within no time at all for such a ship upon even so vast a world as Arda, they soon crested over the near imperceptible roundness of the world. Where through misty clouds came pushing towards the skies, the Lonely Mountain.

The lingering sensations of darkness brewed about the land. But, they were fading. The mark of war come before. Anakin said nothing even if his face showed a frown. Familiar skies to him even if seen for moments. He had piloted a wing of ARC-170s and other Republic ships here to these lands to strafe and attack the men of Rhûn and their orc allies as they had assaulted the Mountain and the city of Dale.

Yet, looking outside the shuttle one could see the city, sporting traces of the burning and fighting, was once more alive. From high up as to not scare those below who would not understand, the city bustled with life, and the road to the Lonely Mountain, to Erebor was open. Dark spots of men and dwarves both passed to and fro. From the city to the mountain. The two peoples living together in peace. Renewed and rekindled in common defense against the forces of Rhûn and the orcs of Dol Guldur. That killed the frown, and Anakin found it within himself to smile. Landing the shuttle to the further north from the mountain and city. Upon lands both Legolas and Gimli agreed they could easily find their way to their respective destinations. He trusted them to do so, and not get hurt. Either of them. Both were his friends of course.

"Ah! You worry too much laddie!" Gimli chortled as the shuttle ramp fell with a slight hiss and mechanical whirring.

"Gimli's right." Legolas bowed his head. "We're both familiar with these lands. In our own ways. That, and the dwarf here will surely scare any would be thieves or scattered orc remnants with but his glower...and smell."

"Aye!" Gimli patted his chest with his left hand. A loud thud sounding as Anakin and Legolas both looked at him. "This is the smell of a dwarf one should not so easily take issue with, my friend! Don't you worry, Gimli, son of Glóin, will protect this wee elvish Princeling as he makes for his woody homeland."

"You two…" As Anakin shook his head Legolas huffed a nasally laugh.

"Do not think I have not seen you two get into spats. The dwarf has charmed you as well, my friend."

"Best not to tell him." Anakin grinned as everyone else watched on with various states of incredulity and humor.

"I'm standing right here ya' know?!"

"Who could ignore the smell, Gimli?" Anakin wafted the air in front of him. Gimli glowered and growled. His beard ruffled...then his cheeks burned red and he loosed a hearty rattle of a laugh. Wrapping his arms about Anakin's waist and shaking the man who broke into a stunned laugh and patted his friends shoulders.

"You enjoy your time with the Shire folk, Anakin! Don't go getting into any trouble! We both know those folk can be small, but dangerous. Nearly dwarves themselves I'd say."

"Oh...thank you Gimli!" Pippin called to him.

"I know. I'll be careful Gimli. We'll see each other again soon. I promise. I gotta see what the inside of the mountain looks like. Oh, and your father's Kingdom of course, Legolas."

"You would be most welcome. Tauriel would welcome both you and Obi-Wan's coming I'm sure."

"Tauriel… Where is she?" Obi-Wan called from the copilot's seat. Having turned to watch the whole goodbye himself. "I would think she would have liked to come home?"

"She chose to return on horseback." Legolas answered. Anakin turned to Obi-Wan. His Master humming and nodding. Saying no more of the subject.

"She told me of your world, or at least the one she saw. Too much metal for her. She wanted to feel the varied states of nature around her on her return journey." Legolas carried on. "She is not fond of large groups for too long. Not for many years now. She prefers to be on her own. Her agreement to go as the representative of my father was surprising to me."

"Well we were lucky to have her." Anakin offered, and meant it. "She protected my wife and kids from an attack. Helped of course. Those two claim they did all the work." Anakin pointed his thumb over shoulder to the hobbits.

"Oi! We certainly helped!" Merry grinned.

"That's right Merry. Without us the whole Republic thing would have been taken over by Palatine."

"Palpatine!" Anakin corrected as both hobbits waved him off.

"Alright, behave you two." Padmé smiled.

"Oh, yes ma'am."

"Sorry sorry!" Merry and Pip respectively answered. Anakin rolled his eyes as everyone sported the familiar shows of good humor.

"Either way, you two take care now." Anakin offered his hand. Legolas awkwardly took it. A common sight seen among Men, but he was always slow on the act himself. Still, he placed his firm grip upon Anakin's and the two men of different races shook.

"Na lû e-govaned vîn." Legolas offered and Anakin squinted.

"I...caught some of that. To...to something?" Legolas chuckled softly.

"Until next we meet." He thankfully translated.

"I won't insult you by trying to say it. But, yes. Until we next meet, my friend." Anakin bowed his head, and both Legolas and Gimli; the ever dynamic duo, gave parting to the others and left the ship. Trekking in good company south. One for Erebor and the other for the Greenwood.

Planting himself back in the pilot's chair Anakin took a draw of breath and pulled the shuttle ramp back up. The shuttle rumbled back to full readiness from its idle state. Casting an unseen glance towards Obi-Wan who checked the systems himself, Anakin thought of making a joke. Something something, Tauriel. Then...he thought better of it.

"Just leave it." Anakin hummed.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Master. Talking to myself."

"Hmm." Obi-Wan shrugged it off, Anakin smiled and soon enough they lifted off. Turning southwest.

…

"Gandalf," Anakin called back as he piloted on.

"Yes, lad?"

"This being you're looking for...you're not worried they may have...you know? Been hurt?"

"Hmm, the power of an Ainur does not mean we are free from the pains and woes of this world. What you would call the universe. Indeed it may take great force and great power to hurt an untethered kinsman of mine. But, it is not impossible. Though, I am more concerned they have not been heard of since their parting from Isengard."

"What could have happened? If you had to guess."

"Guessing?" Gandalf repeated. An air of humor to him that was subtly forced. This truly upset the old wizard, and Anakin thought better of pressing him too much.

"Guessing does little good, and often leads one to assume. Assume they know when really they think they know. They wish they knew. Of course I desire to know these things, as do other powers of the world. She has fallen out of sight. I fear for her perceptions of the world of Men. Middle-Earth with or without Sauron still retains the scars long left in Morgoth's wake. To go unknowing to see all things without guidance...it can be too much."

"I see." More or less Gandalf merely repeated himself, and Anakin believed it was because that was all the elder being cloaked as an old man wished to say. For now at least. So, he let it be. Letting the conversation die as Padmé spoke with Gandalf and the hobbits of past adventures.

In an equally short time they soon came upon the sight of a great blackened pillar rising towards the sky. Only, the display was not as dreary as it had once been. The skies shone much like they had the day they had all gone to Isengard and listened to the defeated wizard within, or rather atop, the spire snarl and curse at them. The waters had greatly receded even if some muskiness was still present. The trees about Isengard weren't quite trees of course. Many ents still swayed back and forth within the ruined ring. Though many could be seen along the scoured slopes to the east leading into Fangorn. Setting sprouts, nuts and acorns for life anew to take root where so much and so many had been burned before.

"You think Treebeard would have an issue with us landing inside the ring?" Obi-Wan asked what was also on Anakin's mind.

"Confused he may be, but I see no reason not to land. Treebeard will surely not act in haste. Rare a sight for an ent indeed."

"Padmé, come up here! FourDee watch the twins."

"Certainly, Master." The droid replied as Padmé cocked a curious brow and stood. Marching herself to the cockpit. Grasping both seats as she stood between Anakin and Obi-Wan.

"Yes?"

"Look out...there." Anakin banked the shuttle to their collective left. Circling the ring slowly. Padmé followed Anakin's jutted jaw. Her eyes looking down on the 'trees.' Then, her brow furrowed and she leaned herself half across Anakin. The Jedi fighting to watch his turn. Obi-Wan's hand fretfully on his own gears.

"Ents...wait...ents!" She finally seemed to recall the word. Spoken to her by Gandalf during the ride and Anakin many weeks before. "The sentient tree-like beings?"

"The very same." Anakin beamed as his wife's eyes lit in dreamy realization. Excitement in her eyes. A primordial and primal desire within the human mind and heart to see the fantastical within them. Silently watchful, Gandalf smiled at the sound and sight of the woman gasping lowly. Asking the odd question here and there. Whimsical as it was earnest. Basic awe and honest enjoyment in that which was previously unseen even if known.

Soon enough the shuttle landed within the ring on the old swampy, muddy remains of the road leading to the steps of Isengard. The ramp fell and sloshed in murky water. Though only a few inches off the ground now. The deep chasms on either side, once filled with many orcs and uruks alike, were pits of water that were slowly being absorbed by deeper soil and surrounding. Anakin idly feared it would subsume the land around Isengard, but...seeing as nothing had happened yet, he again, kept it to himself.

Standing, Gandalf led himself, the hobbits, Anakin and Obi-Wan down the ramp. Though they would not travel far. The sun shining above glinted and illuminated from the metal of the shuttle's outer shell. As they stood and Padmé loosed a long gasp in awe at Isengard's blackened stone contrasted against the foot of the Misty Mountains, a trudging thump sounded. Thump, thump, thump.

"Hmmm, young Master Gandalf!" The voice rumbled and Padmé jumped. Anakin cackled wickedly as he caught her. Enfolding her in his arms as she twisted right and saw him. Treebeard. The ent approached and waved his large trunk-like arm as other nearby ents began slowly trudging nearer.

"A mmmmmm, strange beast's belly do you ride."

"Good to see you once more, Treebeard. How has Isengard been in my absence?" Gandalf bowed his head and clanged his staff down the ramp. Guiding Obi-Wan, and Anakin; who gently pushed Padmé with him, down the ramp. The ent sucked in what seemed a long breath and tilted his head towards the tower.

"Little has happened since Saruman's fall. Hmmm, some weeks past another young master came from the west, I think. Young and curious, they took on the look of a woman."

"I heard as much." Gandalf absently nodded. "With your permission Treebeard I would like to stay a few days within the keep."

"Haruum, I have no claim over the keep, Gandalf. Nor do I enjoy telling others what they can or cannot do."

"A good intention, my friend. But, kindness and respect are none the lesser for being courteous."

"Hmm, your point is well, hmmmmm-met." Treebeard nodded. The sound of swaying and bending bark sounded.

"Ani...the tree…it...he…"

"Shh, don't call them trees!" Pippin corrected Padmé from her side.

"Pip's right." Merry added. "They are picky with the distinction."

"Barrum! Young Shirelings! You have returned!" Treebeard rumbled and lifted both arms at his sides at the sight of both hobbits. The two of whom stepped forward and cackled gleefully at Treebeard.

"How are you Treebeard?!"

"Good to see you!" Merry and Pip began.

"You two, travel long and far I see! Ah and with familiar company, though it has been some time."

"We were here very shortly, Treebeard sir." Obi-Wan bowed and greeted both for himself along with Anakin who nodded.

"Ah, yes I remember you two...though not this one."

"H...hi…" Padmé waved like a schoolgirl. Anakin found it infinitely hilarious.

"Of all the alien life you've seen…"

"This is...unique! I thought maybe, just maybe, you had been exaggerating Anakin!"

"Nope!" Anakin simply refuted. All eyes on Padmé as she blushed.

"S...sorry! I've never met an...an ent before."

"Ah, I see." Treebeard nodded as another large ent drew near. A sort of portly form to what could best be ascribed to its stomach. A bushel of leaf fading branches about its 'head' and the hum and creaking moan of some sort as it swayed. Watching and speaking no words at the newcomers.

"Needn't you be concerned, young Lady. Many an eye of your race see an ent or even a huorn and feel fear. Buruum, but you are quite safe and welcome here. Any friend of Gandalf the White and the hobbits of the Shire, are friends of the ents."

"I'm...I'm honored." She smiled broadly and stepped forward turning about as other ents remained distantly or nearby rooted. Swaying...perhaps sleeping? Others came close and tilted their heads at the group.

"You...you weren't lying about this world, Ani!" Padmé beamed. Stepping herself off the ramp and approaching Treebeard. The mighty ent peered down receptively.

"Hmm, perhaps I can share one of my newest compositions with some you?! I have been, hmmmm, long and deep in thought."

"Composition?"

"Oh...his poetry."

"Pippin!" Merry jabbed his companion. Pippin perked up. Feigned of course.

"Oh yes! I mean his poetry! Very good! Helps you think and sleep."

"Poetry…" Padmé scoffed in pure disoriented awe. "I'd love to hear ent poetry, sir."

"Baruum! Then doubly welcome you are as company, young Mistress!"

Anakin and Obi-Wan shared a look. Their brows rose in whimsy and shared delight. For a few hours the whole group would remain within the ring of Isengard. Gandalf discussing the one who had come before him. The manner in which the Rohirrim had unfortunately acted and reacted. Their words specifically as they parted Isengard. While Treebeard kept Padmé occupied in long drawn out tales woven in poetry. The Jedi meditated, and the hobbits threw rocks. Or chatted with apparently the fastest ent among them. Apparently they had all met at some point and no one had made mention of him. Anakin felt momentarily robbed. Who wouldn't want to hear of the ent who answered another's question before they had finished asking it?

His name? Bregalad. Or, in the common Westron tongue, Quickbeam!

---

Elsewhere…

The Providence-class warbled through space. Hanging in no particular reason within the great expanse that seemed to go forever on and on. To the relative right and down of those within the bridge of the massive warship one could see an orange sphere with white plumes planted here and there across its surface. The clouds of Geonosis. Home to the Geonosian species. Part of the founders of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, and now key masters of the CIS in terms of engineering, design and manufacturing. There were, of course, many droid foundries across the galaxy, many of them within Confederate territory. But, Geonosis was particularly productive where droids of all kinds were produced. From the first day on. Even under Republic attack, and supposed campaigns to take place that did not truly materialize. Geonosis was a bastion of the Confederacy. Even if the capital of the new government had been firmly placed on Raxus Secundus, none could ever deny Geonosis was a vital organ, or artery that kept the Confederacy operating.

However, for those within the bridge, the world of Geonosis with its great ring of asteroids was not the main attraction today. The newest Archduke of the world and thus representative of the entire Geonosian faction within the Confederacy was a one time assistant of the former, and tragically assassinated Archduke Poggle the Lesser. An engineer of great esteem who had been granted political power by many backroom discussions involving the Trade Federation with Geonosian Industries as well as Baktoid had agreed to hand over much of Poggle's wealth to the young and intelligent Gizor Dellso. A worker among his species, sure, and young, the geonosian was brilliant. In fact, the reason some thought Dellso was elevated so suddenly was because of his newest invention. Rumored among many, and known by few. A droid Master Code. Designed to overwrite any and all attempts beyond that code to shut down the droid armies, and if necessary, reactivate them if the still active lesser command codes were used to shut them down. Be it for maintenance, or by sabotage.

That device, that code now sat within the pocket of a hooded figure upon the bridge of the Providence. They were shrouded by their hood atop their head, and a blackened scarf ran along their face. Their fair skin was...oddly featureless. Their eyes dark black, brow cleared of any hair strands if they sported any. Their body shape did not betray what gender they ascribed or showed. They were not short, but not overly tall. Their body was encased in a blackened tunic and similarly black trousers. Dark boots and gloves that ran over the cuffs of their long sleeves. A cloak down their back and when they opened their mouth a male voice came, but itself was hitched and oftentimes almost seemed to be a woman's. None who met this being could accurately or positively share any description. As it was intended.

They did not stand alone on the bridge. To their right the structure and amalgam of white bone-like metallic armor, where within was encased the remnants of their one time organic body with spare parts taken from dead Jedi – General Grievous.

The General's reptilian eyes peered out the front of the ship into the vastness of space. His hands interlocked behind his back as he stood slightly hunched over. His gray cloak down his body where within the slight and near silent clang and ding of lightsaber handles could be heard bumping into one another. Many trophies and certainly not all he had.

While to the unknown being's left stood Gizor Dellso himself. The young geonosian had finished explaining something about the spherical design. The sheer volume of metal, and the many iterations and reiterations the designing team had sent on the matter. Including a one Bevel Lemelisk. Behind both Dellso and the unknown being there was a protocol droid, sleek silver metal across its entire body as a masculine voice translated what the geonosians sputters, whirs and whistles or clicks meant.

"And the lead on this project?" The unknown being wondered with that familiar indescribable voice. Tilting their head left, those dark eyes peered over their shoulder at the droid.

"Where does he stand on his allegiances?" The droid turned to Gizor as the new Archduke; who understood Basic well enough, nodded. With a flippant inward motion of his right insect hand, two geonosians at the back of the bridge alongside the blue striped security B1's turned towards the door and opened it with a flick of a keypad. Revealing, as though on cue, an older fair skinned human man. His hair was beginning to recede and graying, but still dark. His features were gaunt and serious. Thin lips pressed together as his gray eyes fell onto Grievous first, the geonosian second, and the third figure last. A glint of unknowing passed over him. The prominent bulges of his cheeks as skin rested on bone caught the unknown being's eyes. The man was tall, but lanky. Sort of like a corpse that had flesh enough to pass as a living man. He was, perhaps not uncharitably hideous. But, age and what could be assumed to be sternness by his walk and ill outward manner, had worn him.

The man approached the party of three and the droid. Gizor buzzed a few words and motioned his hand from the newcomer to the unknown being. Both they and Grievous turned to face the newcomer as the droid began to translate.

"Master Dellso wishes to introduce you to Wil-"

"Wilhuff Tarkin." The unknown being cut the droid off. Tarkin himself showed a pronounced raising of his brow. Curious.

"That's correct, Master." The droid bobbed its torso.

"I have heard of you from a reliable source." The unknown being continued unfazed by the droid, or Dellso's confusion. "I've been told you have a mind for super weapons, and tenacity for this project in particular." Tarkin didn't answer immediately. Rather he tilted his entire head back and left. As though reading an odd paragraph from some novel as he observed this unknown, oddly spoken being.

"You may know who I am," He began with an accent oozing of propriety and structured self discipline. "But, I haven't the honor of knowing who you are?"

"Not yet, at least." The being hummed. "I've been told, Tarkin, that you are a patriot. You serve the Republic and its leader with zeal. Or, should I say, the former leader with zeal." A statement, and not a question. Wilhuff scoffed openly. Waving his right hand out at his side before planting both behind his back, much like Grievous.

"I have long been an ardent supporter of the unfortunately usurped Chancellor Palpatine, yes. My patriotism for the Republic was staunch because my family and Eriadu proper have long been steeped in the functioning of the state. Eriadu is, for a world further out from the Core, quite important to Republic control of the Mid and Outer Rims. Or rather, had been." Wilhuff stated in a tone similar to the unknown being's. A slight challenge. It was welcomed.

"I see." The unknown being nodded. "I have been told you were found on the installation. Committed to completing your duties. Tell me, Governor; that is your title, is it not?"

"It is, or perhaps, was. Depends on who you ask really." Tarkin shrugged nonchalantly.

"I see. Well then, Governor, what is a Republic military and security official doing on an installation being built over Geonosis? A truce, and peace may be at hand. But, I don't recall Republic officials being welcomed in Confederate space." Tarkin cast a thin and wry smile back at the question

"To those I worked with, my position within the Republic was quite unimportant. Those...as you would call them, Confederate forces I dealt with, were chiefly concerned with the completion of the weapon. I could at times wear my birth name without concern. Others, I would need and be given pseudonyms. The geonosian workers hardly knew who I was outside of the facility when I was on site. The laboring droids didn't care. The humans with whom I found great success with and like minds, well they were keen to all understand we were on the same ship."

"That ship?"

"Dutifully and ardently aware that the current state of the Galactic Republic was untenable. It has become so over the last few centuries. The Confederacy had...noble aspirations, but were in essence a means to an end. We all worked for a man of vision. Palpatine. Or otherwise known to some as Darth Sidious. He is no more. Therefore I find myself explaining who and what I am to a geonosian who has ceased my project, the General in charge of the droid armies, and...another I have no idea about."

"Humorous the way life can work out." The unknown being intoned in quick and sharp retort. Tarkin eyed them, and after a moment, begrudgingly sniffled a light breath of laughter from his flared nostrils. Tipping his head in subtle agreement.

"In that we can agree."

"Hmm." The being grunted in reaffirmation. "Tell me, Governor Tarkin, can a man like you find it within them to work within the confines of a new apparatus? Shielded within the bubble and superstructure that is the CIS, but operating in a manner more befitting of a project of this caliber?"

"Why do you ask?" Tarkin prodded what he more than likely very well understood to be the point.

"General." The unknown being deferred and Grievous stepped forward. The whir of his mechanical legs causing Tarkin; who outwardly certainly seemed stoic and unmoved, in this regard he did jostle backwards slightly. Who wouldn't against the awesome sight of Grievous?

"The Confederacy has growing to do, Governor. I don't care where you come from, or with whom your prior allegiance was with. I myself served Lord Sidious for years under false pretense, and with hollow promises made."

"I see." Tarkin nodded.

"Then you should see you have but one clear option before you, and a few less clear, far murkier, options."

"The clear one, then?"

"You continue to work for us. The leadership of the Confederacy, you will have what resources, what credits, and what manpower or droid power needed to continue your preparations and construction. You will be given a new rank befitting a role, and shall be a shadow within the Confederacy. Free to travel without charge or concern between the CIS and the Republic." Tarkin's brows rose again. He looked between the now silent being and Grievous. Perhaps wondering who was in charge of whom in this scenario? The answer did not come quite so simply, but the unknown one...there was something to them beyond Grievous. Even if the skeletal cyborg bore the greater share of power projection...of menace.

"Quite the exceptional offer. Though in regards to the Republic, whispers begin to abound of Governors put in position by Palpatine refusing to return to Coruscant. All governors are being investigated, and otherwise forced into retirement."

"All the better for you to return and maintain status and position as quickly as possible. No?" The unknown being posited on behalf of Grievous. The General showed no care at being interjected by them. To Tarkin that spoke volumes of their dynamic.

"And what may I ask, are the murkier options?"

"To die." Grievous growled. A flicker of his oh so well known ire and rage shivering through his metal body. Yellowed alien eyes narrowing underneath the mask made in facsimile to the Kaleesh bone masks. "To be tortured for all knowledge which you may know and have of this project and others! To drive from you every ounce of information you shared and retained or partnered with Sidious in this scheme! To be thrown out once all sanity has been stripped from your carcass and erased from the face of the galaxy!"

"Or," The unknown being coolly and calmly began, Grievous recoiled and shook as ebbs of anger were left to rattle free of his being.

"Or, you can continue your work, and with what has been shared with me, we can continue this project. For a new safe and secure society."

"Familiar words." Tarkin managed after another moment of silent observation between the two. Grievous, luckily reeled himself back in and his being slouched like a predator at rest while stood upon his two legs.

"It would be absurd to take the offer presented, and not agree to it. Though, I would appreciate the chance to speak with you more...frankly, if you do not mind?" Tarkin addressed the unknown being. Who immediately bowed their head.

"That can be arranged. I imagine I know much about you. You would do well to know some things about me." The being intoned and then raised their right hand. "Shall we?"

Tarkin eyed the given hand. Truly, he had no other option. Secondly he wasn't sure this was a bad arrangement? Different, certainly. Working, or continuing to work under the Confederacy, but free of any obligations where that state was concerned? Well...now that was a welcome development. Plus, what was truly so different now, then what Palpatine had planned? Palpatine, perhaps, Tarkin understood on some level. Man to man. Even if the Sith was ever enigmatic to the core. But, this being? There was….familiarity in their manner, in their walk, and in their talk.

The Governor raised his right hand and firmly grasped the other. Feeling warmth ebb from the cloth and heat his hand. The two shook, once, twice and a third.

"I agree to your terms."

"Excellent. Anything you need should be communicated with General Grievous." Again the being deferred and Tarkin began to understand. "Whatever may appear within this, our new CIS, power lay with those as can direct it. And, in these matters, the General is chief among the circle."

"And you?" Tarkin dared.

"I am but counsel. Until such a time as things develop otherwise." They spoke, and Grievous didn't refute. Tarkin knew then he had made the right call.

"Now," The being swept an arm back out the bridge. Beyond the terminals and beyond the droids manning them – beyond the metal slabs and the thick viewports, and through the great open void of space. Grievous, Dellso, and the Governor all followed the motion. Tarkin pushing in-between the bug Gizor, his droid, and the unknown being.

"I have been told a great deal about this project. But, regale me again, as if I do not know. What is it called, Governor? You should be proud to share what you have accomplished thus far." A statement, and Tarkin agreed. A genuine thin and mirthless smirk on his gaunt face formed and he chortled haughtily.

"Ah yes. I quite am. And, I shall be all the more proud as time continues. This...this shell, is but the beginning. Officially," Tarkin took a whimsical draw of breath. The filtered oxygen cycled through the warship filling his lungs before he exhaled and his shoulder slouched in true earnest self-satisfaction. Within the orbs of his eyes the metal shell filled both.

"Officially, the name of the station is the DS-1 Orbital Battle Station. Unofficially and far more ubiquitous, I and those who design and work on it call it, the Death Star."

"Magnificent." The unknown being intoned. As all four living souls staring out the bridge looked upon the vast outer shell of the sphere. The great class-IV moon sized battle station.

The Death Star.

---

Day was now night. Gandalf sat within a seat within one of the several studies within the great keep of Isengard. The same place Saruman would have sat before in deep contemplation and study of the ways of Sauron or Morgoth before him. The interior had been dark when Gandalf had entered. After several hours where his friends had remained to meet with the ents and speak of the past. Finally Anakin, Obi-Wan, Padmé, the twins and the little hobbits had taken their leave. Gandalf was happy they would enjoy the qualities present within the Shire. Ever did that realm bring a serene smile to his face. A glimmer in his eyes. The softness, kindness, and little victories won day by day in the minor acts...even now those kept him going, and kept him strong. Full of hope, and courage not for himself, but for those still here who abide upon Middle-Earth.

"Hmm…" He hummed. The many torches within had been left to burn through their oil and bark. Gandalf had scrounged from the old store rooms what oil he could find. Returning the many fires within to full illumination. As well, he had opened all the windows he had come across. Allowing a great heap of dust to filter free upon cool entering breezes. As well, to allow what daylight had remained outside within.

Now that darkness had fallen and the moon hung high in the sky between what clouds came, Gandalf could hear the moan and creaks of swaying ents. Several huorns had come to root within the ring of Isengard. Distant from their arrival on the flying metal ship. They too loosed subtle groans along with the chirping of insects and the rustling of birds in Fangorn beyond. The sounds of nature drifted into the great tower, and allowed Gandalf to feel more at ease.

Even now, after these many long and often times as arduous months as during the War of the Ring, he found the old abode of Saruman unsettling. Memories of a short battle of words and of staffs. His imprisonment upon the top of the spire. The disquiet of his spirit as he felt it dawn and heard the words come clearly to him. Saruman's fall, and decision to ally with Sauron. Ally, but for his own ends, his own greed. To make himself not coequal with Sauron as he had spoken of, but rather, the third and terrible Dark Lord of Middle-Earth.

Now, however, as Gandalf hummed another sigh, he tapped his left hand along one of the old tomes upon a blackened table set. His eyes scanned the walls. More seeking to feel what had happened here recently. In a dull sense Gandalf could feel an echo of another who had come here. A power had dwelled here that was stronger in its raw intensity. His sight had given him flashes of information. That which was difficult to describe to others. Senses and words almost that came from distant Aman. Yet, what Gandalf had been privy to had been scant. Even they did not know what had befallen the newcomer among their rank. It was a disquieting thing. Not impossible for one who could by power be considered a Valar, if not by title – it was not impossible for such a being to hide. Morgoth had, and Sauron after him. Then the question would and did become, why? Why would one who is young and who could see the great tumults of the World play out from beside Eru come into Arda where their knowledge would soon fade, only to willingly become lost? It made little sense to Gandalf, and he felt himself grow discontent.

Signs of their presence here abounded. Cabinets searched through. Tomes and scripts rolled out and read or rummaged over. Whether they understood the words or not was still in question. Secret cabinets Saruman had were now plainly open. Contents within taken. Stolen? Gandalf doubted that. Even if one could say as much it would have been unintentional. Treebeard spoke of her untethered form. A being wrapped in rain, lightning and mist. Turned to a radiant woman of grand beauty who filled the hearts of Man with fear both before and after her raiment was adorned. Gandalf did not lay blame upon the Rohirrim for how things happened. Men were often the most fearful of that which they did not understand. Even among their own kind. Fearful even of understanding when knowledge was freely offered.

Yet, it could not be helped. What the Rohirrim did, and their distrust and, as Treebeard described it, unkind manners could have frightened the Ainu. Even if she did not know it. Saddened her certainly in a world she did not understand.

A stiff breeze like a heave of breath from the lung came groaning across Gandalf's hand and the books beneath. Gandalf's eyes narrowed. Casting his eyes right and out of the study he watched as the fires upon the walls whipped. Tracing his eyes to the open doorway he saw neither swing of door, nor flutter of nearby fire and cloth. Yet, the breeze whipped as subtle and indistinct as a shadow in the darkness.

Gandalf stood and stepped into the circular throne room. The dais at its center now clear and bereft of the seeing stone taken to Minas Tirith to reside alongside the one housed there for many long years. Gandalf heard a creak, a groan like footsteps on the stairwell that led both up and down the great keep. The White Wizard's eyes closed. He drew in the air and then felt the wind coil around him, before retreating. As though clinging to the jagged black metal that pressed outwards into the keep.

"Hmph!" Gandalf huffed. His eyes opened sharply but he did not raise his voice. "Without body and without cloth this is what has become of you? A creeping wind, gnashing in the darkness. Even now you cling to that which you are most familiar with. It is a sad state of affairs you find yourself, house-less spirit. But, it is one of your own doing! Little thought given when freedom was offered and chance given to renounce old evils." Gandalf paused and shook his head.

"Oh Saruman, how you have fallen."

There was another subtle creak. To any other ear it would mean nothing. Yet, to Gandalf the White, it was as though a great moaning wail had signaled from the deep of a great abyss. Calling for power cloaked in a plea for mercy.

"None of that now." Gandalf motioned his left hand down and across himself. A subtle movement, but as he did so, an even greater wind seemed to flow into the keep, and move through it entirely. Pushing dust and whirling dirt wherever it went. A warm breeze that snuffed the cold. Gently pushing it back. Down...down into the depths of the keep. Perchance leaving it room to escape of its own will should it desire.

"You are not bound to this place, aimless one. To cling here is your own folly. Take your time, observe penance. Travel now across this world and see what woes have come of your actions and those before you. What will come after you even. Repent for the wickedness of the marring of this world and others. Perhaps then, after a thousand, after ten-thousand years you will hear summons again to the far shore. I wish that for you, Curumo. But, for now, trouble me no further. This is no longer your home, and you are no longer welcomed beside me. Begone."

The creaking silenced. The warmth in the keep flourished and the outside sounds of nature once more flowed steadily. Gandalf sighed happily enough, and continued to search the keep up and down. Choosing with time to use the bed within for rare, but welcomed sleep.

No disquieted spirits to bother him again that night.

---

The shuttle landed without much fanfare within what Anakin had been told was called the southern border of the Bindbole Wood. Already from above as Anakin peered down he had caught sight of these lands and...the Force! It abounded here. Not as some nexus, mind you. Not as a place of power. Rather...serenity. Similar to how those who came close to Ithor felt. Those who resided on the Ithorian homeworld were forbidden from leaving. Their world was sacred to the Ithorians. Its natural beauty was maintained while the ithorians themselves lived in floating cities in orbit of the world. Mother Ithor would call some down where they would remain in tranquility with the wood and natural state of existence.

Perhaps not as intense as that, of course. But the Force...it flowed under the shuttle in such a manner that both Anakin and Obi-Wan turned to look at one another. Serenity flowed freely. Anakin felt some lingering disquiet from the hobbits and from Padmé whither. It did not strike their inner thoughts or turmoil, but somehow without seeing the lands again they all felt a sense of new peace. The twins too, their beings within the Force managed to become soothed by an unseen power.

Anakin landed the shuttle just outside the forest to the south of it. The winds it churned up sending free blades of grass and leafs in all directions. Before coming to a total stop. Anakin ushered everyone out, and the hobbits, ever charming, would not cease talking about any and every which thing there was in these parts of the Shire, Nearest Hobbiton where many hobbits well to do and well off lived. While Merry lived in Buckland. Pippin came from a settlement within the Shire known as Whitwell. Son of Paladin II Took, the Thain, or what amounted to the hobbits military within the Shire. Having seen the four hobbits he knew well in action, Anakin knew not to take the position nor hobbit fighters lightly.

With FourDee floating about the air, Padmé descended as the last from the shuttle.

"Oh my…" She intoned, and not for the first time today. Anakin grinned back at her and turned towards the south. Before them was set a great green field sprawling with shades of yellow flowers. In the far distance one could see the tributary of the Brandywine River known simply as Shire-water. Beyond that...small stacks of smoke could be seen rising. A green country where the running of water cooled one's ears, and the blazing sun even midday as it was nearing nightfall...it seemed to cast shine across the land. Rolling hills obscured the view for miles, but among them deep in the pits between where room was granted there were farms and tilled lands. Tiny blotches barely noticeable unless one went looking moved about. While Anakin swore he heard a distant hearty laugh. For what end, to what purpose? He didn't know, and he didn't care.

"Ah!" Pippin raised his arms above his head and stretched. "Finally, again! Back home."

"As green as when we left it last." Merry added as both hobbits carried nostalgic glints in their eyes. Tempered now by their far and long adventures beyond what seemed a quiet and perhaps even boring home to them. Anakin could understand. One would think awe if they had gone from this to Tatooine, but as one who came from Tatooine, and from Coruscant and so many other worlds to this…?

"This is...amazing!" Anakin announced and thrust both arms out. Obi-Wan at his right, crossed his arms over his chest and nodded along. Much as Anakin had, Obi-Wan drew a deep fresh...incredibly fresh breath of air into his lungs as warm sunlight pelted his skin and warmed him.

"I can't help but agree. This place...I've seen very few others like it. Harmonious. Incredibly, even unbelievably idyllic! Your descriptions and those from Gandalf did no justice, you two."

"Aye, but we try our best." Pippin shrugged. "Besides, few outsiders ever find the time or reason to come to the Shire. Less reason still to make their way as deep as Hobbiton."

"He's right. I'll have a trek to get back to Buckland once we meet up with Frodo and Sam."

"We could give you a lift?" Padmé offered as she settled Luke and Leia into a carrier that allowed both twins to nestle in peaceful sleep together side by side. The cool breeze and warm sun with the chirping of undisturbed birds and whistles of well mannered insects cast near forceful peace onto all.

"Ah, no. It's no trouble Miss Padmé! I don't mind the walk! I can see a few others on my way. Like Fatty Bolger and check in with-"

"He means to say he wants to ask around about a certain sister of Fatty! Estella!"

"Pippin!"

"Ah," Padmé beamed. "I see. Well then you should check in with this...Fatty Bolger, Merry."

"I agree." Anakin grinned as Obi-Wan sharply nodded. Merry kicking an idle nearby rock and burning with furious blush across his almost boyish features.

"Yeah well...I'll think about it! I just want to see how everyone's been doing. We've been gone for a few weeks again."

"Aye, but I'm sure Frodo and Sam have taken care of things in our absence."

"Sam certainly." Merry added which momentarily disheartened Anakin, before Merry kept on.

"Frodo likes to keep to his study and writing these days."

"I see." Obi-Wan offered for all. "Well hopefully Frodo won't mind a visit from old acquaintances?"

"He surely shouldn't! Frodo and Sam talked about you two many times on our initial return home. As they did for everyone in the Fellowship! Don't worry." Pippin, ever an optimist, breathed new life into the group's little adventure.

"Aye, but time's a-wastin!" Merry announced, a puff to his chest. "Best everyone follow me and Pip. Plenty of hobbits don't take well to strangers. No danger in it of course, just a general uneasiness with tall folk."

"Gandalf mentioned something about that." Anakin chuckled. "Lead on you two." Anakin shooed the two forward. Both chortling and grinning. Ever the pleasant pair. Idle chatter on this and that flowing on what this was, what this led to and where in the Shire one should go to get this item or that.

Anakin closed the shuttle and locked it. Habit, but who here would steal a metal beast like this? Either way, best not let bugs or wild animals roam too freely.

"My Lady." Anakin then swooped in beside Padmé and snaked his left arm around her waist. She smiled at him in a sweet manner, cascaded across her face was the shining sun of the day and she seemed radiant. More so than ever before. In this moment as she pushed his children along grassy lands.

"Like what you see?" She coyly wondered.

"Always."

"You two…" Obi-Wan bemoaned. "Just don't try putting any arms around my waist, Anakin."

"You should be so lucky, old man!" Anakin cackled as Obi-Wan scoffed, rolling his eyes and trying, but failing to hide a smirk under his beard.

The sun shone, the hills rolled, the enduring Shire swept out before them. A slice of Middle-Earth that felt as though an encapsulation of that which made Arda so unique. A homely place they had never known. There may have been no visible road, but it went on and on.

Up now to the door where it began.

---

L's Note: Haha, sorry if the Shire part is a little bit of a tease. More will come I have been assured. ;)

As usual, thank you everyone who left a review on the last, more esoteric, but important chapter! Your ideas were interesting. ;3

Also as usual, please forgive or point out any and all grammatical errors as can be found. I did my best to clear this chapter as usual, bt fixes are nearly constant. Lol I and Lord Exar Kun certainly hope everyone is getting the emails showing the updates (and yes we are consideirng mirroing this fic on ao3 due to the rampant issues), and of course, please enjoy what is thus far the longest and more old format chapter of this tale. Sorry again for the long wait!

Till next time.

-L

Edit Note: Edited/Updated 11/21/2023