Chapter 46

The Oakenshield Affair Part 7: Epilogue

"Everything comes to an end. A good bottle of wine, a summer's day, a long-running sitcom, one's life, and eventually our species. The question for many of us is not that everything will come to an end but when. And can we do anything vaguely useful until it does?"

Jasper Fforde: The Woman Who Died a Lot

It was a disappointment to see that the Outland remained every bit as overwhelming and unorganised as Thorin remembered it. Even on what Kate insisted was a quieter street there were too many people and even the simplest passer-by was extremely detailed. It always seemed somewhat unnatural.

'Come on, or we'll be late,' Kate said. 'And this is not the occasion to be fashionably late to.'

They walked the last few minutes to the apartment building. They were expected, so the door was opened shortly after they had rung the bell.

Kate had been here before, so Thorin let her lead the way.

'Come in,' the author said when they came to her door. She had been waiting for them.

He nodded at her in passing.

The author closed the front door behind them and then extended her hand to Thorin to shake, which he did. 'Pleasure to meet you,' she said. 'I hope everything is back to normal after all the excitement?'

'It is,' Thorin said. And indeed it was. 'Thank you for your assistance.'

'No problem,' the author said. 'I'm just glad it all worked out.'

Kate grimaced. 'Well, it hasn't all worked out yet.' That was why they were here after all.

'No, but I am optimistic. Give me a moment to put my shoes on.' She hesitated. 'Are my clothes all right, though? I'm not sure which book we're going to.'

'We're in Jeremy Poldark,' Kate replied. 'But you're fine. We won't interact with the plot, so there's no need to blend in.'

Some weeks had passed since the conclusion of their unscripted adventure and most things had indeed returned to normal. The Written Word series had been restored to their proper spot in the Library, to the great relief of all the people in it. The damage done to The Voyage of the Dawn Treader had been mended. Regrettably, Emperor Zhark was still at Jurisfiction.

It was odd to be in the house of the author who had written his story. It was not, thank the Maker, awkward. It might have been, had not events taken the turn that they had. But they had been united in a common aim and that in turn had resulted in a certain understanding.

'If there's ever any trouble again,' said the author, 'feel free to ask for help, by the way. If that is still allowed, that is. I understand contact is not usually permitted?'

Kate scoffed. 'You saved the BookWorld a lot of trouble. It's earned you a lot of leeway.' She grinned deviously. 'And I am sure I've convinced the Bellman that it is a very useful thing for Jurisfiction to have an author on standby.'

'Happy to be the author on standby,' the author said, pulling on her shoes. It was a novel sight. In the BookWorld characters rarely did something like that. It would only hold up the plot. The Outland was strange in this aspect. There was no rhyme or reason to it, just random events that made up people's life without an overarching narrative. Was it any wonder they enjoyed tales where none of that applied?

She caught his look. 'Never seen someone pull on their shoes?'

'A few times,' Thorin answered. 'It is rare in the BookWorld. Must you do this every time you go out?'

The author nodded. 'Every time,' she confirmed. 'The same with putting on my coat, grabbing my bag, checking if I have my wallet, keys and phone.' She grinned. 'It can be quite a lengthy process getting out of the house. I could write it for you, if you're interested?'

It sounded very cumbersome and not at all enjoyable, so Thorin respectfully declined. And indeed it seemed an awful lot of actions that contributed nothing to a plot. He watched her perform all those actions and add to them when she also stopped to feed her cats, turn off the heating and lock the door. At the last moment she dashed back to retrieve her notebook. In a book, it would have taken up an entire paragraph in which nothing was done to further plot or character development.

'Ready,' she announced at last. 'Will we jump straight there or will we go via the Library?'

'Straight there,' Kate answered. 'But we can take you back the scenic route.'

The author grinned. 'I'll take you up on that.'

They read themselves in at the end of chapter twelve of Jeremy Poldark. The scene ended and the next chapter would take place elsewhere, so there was no need to avoid the plot or the characters. Besides, the characters were used to the coming and going around the Bodmin Assizes; it had been used before for bookish trials.

'Ah, Agents Andrews and Oakenshield,' Ross Poldark greeted them as they came in. 'I wish I could stay to watch this, but the plot has me leaving almost immediately.'

'I'll tell you about it before Roll Call tomorrow, if you come in a bit early,' Kate promised.

Ross Poldark had joined Jurisfiction in place of the despised George Warleggan, to the relief of nearly every agent involved. It would however have been more of a relief if George had not immediately applied for a position at the Council of Genres, where he planned to lobby against fanfiction.

But that was a problem for another day.

Ross's look slid over to the author. 'You are their author?'

The author nodded. 'I am.' She extended her hand for him to shake. 'Pleasure to meet you.'

Ross shook it. 'Is it true that clouds can have infinite shapes in the Outland?'

'Yes,' said the author. 'Watching them never gets boring.'

'How odd,' Ross said.

The author looked pensively after him as he walked away. 'Is there going to be a lot of this today? The random questions about life in the Outland?'

'You may be assured of that,' Thorin said.

They were led off to a side room to wait until they were called, so they would all miss the first part of the trial. Other witnesses were few, but included all of those who had been part of the rescue mission. George Warleggan was in attendance, not pleased in the slightest that he was here. The Nori who had been bribed was there as well, but he shrunk back when Thorin glared at him. The others all crowded around to shake the author's hand. Especially Elvaethor seemed a little starstruck.

They settled down to wait, although in Thorin's case, it was not for long. As he was the abductee, he was first to be called to the stand.

His first impression of the court room was that it was crowded. Most of the characters of his own series had crammed into the room. Many of Jurisfiction had come as well. For reasons unknown many of the characters of the original The Hobbit were present.

The two kidnappers – Emily and Tom – were in his direct line of sight. Neither of them looked like they had enjoyed their time in The Sword of the Zenobians. By some chance a rogue Minotaur had been imprisoned in the cell next to Emily's and this had caused her no end of stress. The roots of her purple hair were showing – which garnered her quite a lot of attention as this never happened in the BookWorld – and the brown that now showed did not improve her appearance. She looked pale and unhealthy and not a little nervous.

Her accomplice had broken down entirely and even now sat snivelling on his bench. He was even more greasy and more instable than he had been before his capture.

However, he showed a flicker of interest as Thorin took the stand; he looked up and cast a pleading look in his direction. Surely he could not expect Thorin to speak up for him and plead leniency?

He was invited to speak the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth – no hardship for him – and then was asked by the prosecution, a Mr Henry Bull, who had done the prosecution in Ross Poldark's case as well, what had happened to him. Thorin obliged him without reluctance. He related what had happened to him from the moment he woke up in the backstory of the still unknown novel – something that was driving Kate up the wall – till the moment he had been rescued.

'Would you say, Mr Thorin Oakenshield, that this was a premeditated fiction infraction on the part of the accused?' Mr. Bull asked.

That was an easy answer. 'Aye, I would say so indeed.' Tom had been looking at him in a pleading manner again, so when his hopes were dashed, his face fell. 'The accused had taken care in choosing several places within novels to hide away in case of an emergency. Reconnaissance had been performed in several fanfictions, as well as in The Hobbit, where the woman Emily made contact with a Nori on the Character Exchange Programme. She referred to him, in my hearing, as her source.'

There was no doubt in his mind that the whole thing had been meticulously planned and executed. Yes, it had been planned with incomplete information, but planned it had been.

'Thank you.' Mr. Bull consulted his notes. 'Was there, in your view, consideration for the integrity of fiction on the part of the accused?'

At this part the defence began to object, but was overruled by the Hon. Justice Lister, who didn't seem like he had any time for nonsense. Or interruptions.

So Thorin answered: 'None was exercised and none was intended.' Even after some weeks, the rage for their carelessness had yet to abate. 'There was no care for the fate of the other people in my series. Worse than that, there was disdain for their plight.' Had he not been found, those he loved, whose faces he could now see in the crowd, they would have been reduced to text, a death as permanent as that in the Outland. 'Moreover, the foray into The Voyage of the Dawn Treader was reckless to the plot of that book. The man Tom ventured within feet of a leading character. Only by chance did we remain unseen. The damage that was inadvertently done to the book was, in my view, almost impossible to avoid, given that there was plot happening on both sides of that ridge.'

As much as he did not like Zhark, any rescue attempt would have been noticed. It may not have been in as… explosive a fashion as it had turned out, but the noises of voices and fighting would have been heard by either Eustace or the crew of the Dawn Treader. Their proximity to the narrative made that unavoidable.

Mr Bull declared himself satisfied. The defence lawyer, a man Thorin did not know, stood up, fumbled with his papers and cleared his throat. He must know that whatever his defence, there was no chance at all that his clients would be found innocent; he looked both resigned and weary.

Still, he gave it a brave effort: 'Mr Oakenshield, did my client, Mr Tom, appear to be in his right mind during the interactions he had with you? You are, after all, an authority on the failings of the mind.'

Any pity Thorin might have felt for the impossibility of the man's task vanished when that low blow was dealt; it was an effort not to walk down from the stand and give the fellow the punch he so rightly deserved.

Of course, him losing his temper would aid the defence, so Thorin reined it in and forced himself to take a deep breath, because this was a lawyer and there was something at play here that he had not anticipated, something he could not quite put his finger on yet. What could be behind this line of questioning? What did the lawyer seek to achieve? Kate would have seen it right away, so he tried to think like her and work through the implications of the question.

The defence lawyer seemed determined not to give him that time. 'I would like to remind you, Mr Oakenshield, that it is your duty to answer the question.'

Was it any wonder he disliked these dragon-tongued two-faced weasels on sight? 'If you could grant me a minute to formulate my reply to your query, I can better do justice to the nuances,' he said.

'Granted,' said the judge before the lawyer could object.

Thorin gave the man a grateful nod.

So, what purpose did this serve? Surely, there was no chance that the accused could be found guilty, so the aim could not be to have them declared innocent? What then could still be achieved? A reduced sentence, he suspected, and that could be accomplished through pleading extenuating circumstances, such as supposed insanity on the part of one of the culprits.

How he hated these games!

'Mr Tom appeared to me severely misguided in his convictions,' Thorin replied. He would speak the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, but he would have a care for how he spoke that. Kate was better suited to that, but he would have to put his mind to it; he would not have these two walk away with lighter sentences because of something he had said. 'And he persevered in them. Yet in the planning and execution of his plan he showed a clarity of mind and purpose that would argue against the failing of his mind.'

That was not to say that Thorin did not believe the man to be barking mad. He'd seen nothing of the man since he was imprisoned – none of those who had to testify had – but his impressions of him today were not favourable either. If anything, Tom had clearly hurtled headlong into madness.

Even now he was casting pleading looks in Thorin's direction, as if he still hoped that Thorin would change his mind about his life and circumstances.

This was not the answer the lawyer had clearly hoped for. But since he had deemed Thorin an authority on the matter, there was little he could do to challenge it. He nevertheless tried. 'In your earlier testimony you declared that my client, Mr Tom, acted with extreme recklessness when he brought you very close to the plot of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.'

'Recklessness is not insanity,' Thorin pointed out. 'Both Mr Tom and Miss Emily spoke before me of several places in fiction they could go to. The Voyage of the Dawn Treader was one of their chosen hide-outs. I called it reckless, and indeed I still do, because of the proximity to the plot, but it is not, in my view, a sign of loss of sanity.'

The lawyer grinded his teeth with a face that suggested that what he most wanted to grind between them was Thorin's neck. 'You called his convictions misguided, if I recall.'

'Aye, I did.'

'Would you elaborate on that?'

Thorin made sure to study the lawyer's ears for pointy-ness, but found none. The man was human, although his behaviour indicated otherwise. 'He seemed convinced that I was being kept prisoner in my book,' Thorin said, choosing his words with the utmost care. 'He was not receptive to my arguments to the contrary, because of the strength of his convictions and because he believed that I had been written in such a way that I could not wish for a life other than the one I had. He believed that if he could remove me from the BookWorld, that he could break this supposed compulsion. He did not have the opportunity to try this and adjust his convictions accordingly.'

The lawyer gave Thorin another look that should have had him drop dead on the spot and then desisted from asking further questions, presumably because he was not getting the kind of replies he had hoped for. He was unlikely to get them from Kate either, but Thorin would let him discover that for himself.

It was Kate's turn to give evidence when Thorin was done. It had been a long wait – although she'd had to wait longer in the past – so she deduced that the lawyers must have asked him a rather great number of questions. Judging by the sour face of the defence lawyer however, this had not yielded the results he had been after.

Kate swore to tell the truth – no hardship there – and was then invited to give her testimony, which she did. She made sure to be thorough, which pleased the prosecution and irked the defence. The two culprits did not seem to like this development either; both of them sent her frequent foul looks, possibly in an attempt to unnerve her.

The joke is on you, she thought as she relayed Emily's capture. I've stared down monsters more frightening than you.

Even so, there was something about Emily that made Kate uneasy. After all, her motives had never been explained. It was understood that she had a motive and that if differed from Tom's – hence the Plan B – but she had not revealed it, not during the abduction and not after. Narratively speaking, this was very unsatisfactory. After all, they were in the epilogue; loose ends should be tied up now.

What if we have missed something?

The prosecution nodded in satisfaction and declared that he had no more questions for her. The defence had to think about it and then decided that he was probably better off not pursuing such a course of action. From the looks of things it had not gone well when he tried it with Thorin. She smiled brightly at Thorin and then took her place in the hall next to him.

'You did well,' he told her.

'I'm sure you did too.' She slipped her hand in his. It was such a relief to be able to do that again. Even though it had been weeks since the whole debacle ended, it had not yet grown old. Because of those events, she would never again take this for granted again.

Other witnesses were called, both from Jurisfiction and from Kate's own series, all of whom did little to give the defence any reason for optimism. They had very little to add that had not already been addressed, so they were all short sessions and the description of them was over and done with in a paragraph.

The prosecution had saved the author for last, probably for a nice dramatic effect. This he effortlessly achieved; a stir went through the assembly as she took the stand. Kate wondered how long it would be before someone forgot themselves and asked her some question about the Outland they'd had for ages.

As it turned out, the author had barely made it past her oath to tell the truth, before the foreman of the jury interrupted: 'Beg pardon, Miss, but is it true that in the Outland, people eat lunch every day?'

The author's eyebrows jumped up, but she nodded. 'That is true.'

The crowd murmured their astonishment.

The judge cleared his throat. 'If the witness could limit herself to the facts of the trial.'

This resulted in a somewhat embarrassed look from the foreman and a polite nod from the author, who did not seem nervous in the slightest. If anything, it looked like she was rather enjoying her foray into fiction.

She gave her own account of the events, succinct and precise and then waited for the questions that were sure to follow.

The prosecution had only one: 'Could you tell me, Miss, what exactly is the point of a rubber duck?'

The author blinked. 'It's a toy for in the bath, mostly for children. Ehm… what does this have to do with the trial?'

The judge interfered and Mr Bull indeed admitted that he had no further questions.

The defence looked like he had many. There was an eager gleam in his eyes. Kate half-expected him to rub his hands in happy anticipation. Could he be some sort of villain lawyer?

'You have stated that you, at the insistence of Kate Andrews, agreed to assist with the case by writing about it. Is that correct?' He flapped his notes in the author's direction.

'Kate Andrews asked me if I was willing to assist,' the author said, frowning in suspicion. 'There was no need for her to insist.'

The lawyer made a dismissive gesture as though that hardly mattered. 'So you wrote the story?'

'I did, yes.'

'Would it be fair to say that my clients were therefore drawn into your narrative and experienced loss of agency because of it?' The lawyer could barely contain his own glee. Any moment now, Kate expected to see him patting himself on the back, congratulating himself on his own cleverness.

The author put paid to that. 'Certainly not.'

'But you wrote them.'

'I wrote about them, but I could not write them,' the author said. 'They are Outlanders. It is impossible for me to write people from the Outland. I could write about what they did from the eyes of characters, but not from theirs. I explained this to Kate shortly after I started writing. I know what you are trying to imply, but there is no way that I influenced their actions in any way, shape or size.'

The defence lawyer stopped smirking. He had run out of questions too.

The author came to sit with the rest of the witnesses.

'Well done,' Kate said.

The defence lawyer did his best, she had to admit that much. And he was wise enough not to plead their innocence, but rather extenuating circumstances. Tom, he argued, had genuinely wanted to do good to, as he saw it, characters in need. Thorin tensed next to her and she suspected it was taking a lot of self-restraint not to do something foolish and reckless.

There was less the defence could do with the woman. She was cold and unrepentant. The contempt Kate saw in her eyes sent the wrong sort of shivers down her spine.

They were given the opportunity to speak in their own defence. Tom declined, but Emily had more than enough to say. She stood up, eyes blazing with hatred.

'You can talk all you want,' she said. 'But none of it matters, because none of you are real!' Ah, this again. That would explain the contempt. 'It's not like it's all such a big deal. So, what if I take a character from his story? There's plenty more stories and plenty more characters.' She grinned nastily. 'There's plenty of people out there in the RealWorld who would pay a pretty penny for possession of a character, even if it's not the original. It's not a crime to make some money. There's no law against that in the RealWorld.'

'So get a job,' the author commented under her breath. 'And I'm pretty sure there's laws against people trafficking.'

'I suppose they don't apply to people who aren't real,' Kate said bitterly. As much as she was glad to know at last what had driven that horrible woman to her actions, the idea of one of her kind walking about freely made her feel ever so slightly nauseous.

The author made a face. 'You are real. Obviously.'

It wasn't much, but Kate felt heartened by it.

The jury did not need to deliberate long after this tirade; they did not even retire. The verdict of guilty was both predictable and reassuring. Ordinarily, in the BookWorld, the sentencing could then take another few weeks, even months or years, to follow, but a lot of people wouldn't feel safe until this was all done and dusted – the very idea that a character could be taken from his or her own book by Outlanders had made many of them very nervous – so the sentencing followed right after.

The accused were asked to stand. Emily stood straight, oozing defiance. Tom could barely get himself to stand up straight and had to hold on to his own lawyer to maintain balance. The judge was unimpressed with both of them and it showed.

'Mr Tom, for a class one fiction infraction, reckless plot endangerment and misuse of plot devices, you are hereby sentenced to six months of Heathcliff Protection Duty. Furthermore, you may read only fanfiction for the rest of your life. No other kind of reading is allowed.'

Tom stared at the judge in open-mouthed horror.

The author frowned. 'How will they enforce that last one?'

Kate grinned. 'You don't want to know.' She was rather pleased with that sentence, provided that she would not be the one to initiate their convict into the wonders of Heathcliff Protection. She'd had enough of Wuthering Heights to last her several lifetimes.

The judge gave them a stern look to shut them up and then turned to Emily with an even sterner countenance. 'Miss Emily, for a class one fiction infraction, reckless plot endangerment, misuse of plot devices, assault of a Jurisfiction officer and conspiracy to commit further class one fiction infractions, you are hereby sentenced to work for ten years on the Character Exchange Programme. When not required there, you shall assist on grammasite extermination. This time will not be counted as part of your time on the Programme.'

Kate was reluctantly impressed. Spending time pretending to be people that she had casually dismissed as not real, paired with dangerous missions in her off-time. It meant keeping her in the BookWorld, but since Kate was the one in charge of the Character Exchange Programme, she also knew a few choice places to send her, once the purple hair had been dealt with. Catherine Earnshaw had been asking about a nice long holiday…

'And it's even worse for both of them,' the author said as they filed out of the court room.

'How so?' asked Thorin.

'It'll be a while before they're going back to the Outland,' the author replied. 'Especially for Emily. They'll have one hell of a job explaining to everyone where they've been all that time. They might get sectioned when they try to tell people where they've been. They might have been missing so long everyone thinks they're dead. It's just sad for their friends and families.'

Kate shrugged. 'With personalities like theirs, who's to say they have any friends left at all?' She might have felt a twinge of conscience with anyone else, but this could not have happened to more deserving people as far as she was concerned.

'So,' Kate said as they stood outside. She turned to her author and smiled. It was rare that Kate could surprise her, but this was not yet written down and that gave her a lot of leeway. 'We promised you the scenic route back, but I thought we could make an even bigger detour.'

The author gave her a puzzled look.

Kate grinned at her. 'Would you like to see where we live?'

That's it for this AU. I hope you've enjoyed it. I'd be interested in hearing what you thought about it.

Until next week!