Chapter 5: We're Off! (Maybe)

Legolas perched on the balcony railing of the Tolkien Department above the KI courtyard, looking out to where his world was just faintly visible as a gleaming white orb above the western horizon. Despite the fact that the railing wall was barely half a foot across and it was a three-story drop beneath him, the elf balanced nimbly on the balls of his feet, his right hand lightly grasping the branch of a tall maple tree growing beside the balcony. Behind him, the bustle of the day was drawing to a close as the KI agents who weren't on night duty set aside their work to take a well-earned rest.

The remainder of Legolas' fellow characters had returned home, with the exception of the six other members of the newly formed Fellowship of the Pen, all of whom had been provided temporary quarters in the Tolkien Department. Legolas sighed. He could hardly complain about how they'd been treated by the agents of KI: provided top notch guest rooms that made the quarters at Rivendell look cramped and old-fashioned, given access to the 24-7 buffet-style cafeteria on the ground floor, and told that all they needed to do was ask if they needed anything, but otherwise to rest up. It was really quite nice.

Other than the fact that, in return, they were expected to destroy the oldest and most dangerous of all enemies to canon.

The elf pulled the small pen out of his belt pouch and turned it in his fingers. At his warm touch, the Pen came to life, the golden surface swirling with the curving red strokes of the Pseudo-elvish. There was something faintly mesmerizing about the pattern and he could feel a tickle at the very back of his mind: a prickling urge to use the pen to write something.

But Hawk and Porter had been right. The elf found that the distant itch was easy enough to suppress for the moment, even more so because he knew what the results of using the Pen would be. He felt confident that he'd be able to keep the lure of the Pen at bay without difficulty.

Keeping the ravenous Sues at bay was another thing, however. He shuddered at the mere thought of what would happen once they set foot in Middle Earth, the most ancient of the Sue-realms. For not the first time since that morning, he wondered if he had really been the best choice for Pen-bearer after all. Yes, he had felt it was his duty, but on the other hand, maybe it would have been better for someone less popular with the Sues to take the Pen. The moment they entered Middle Earth, would he attract hundreds of Sues to destroy the Fellowship before their mission had even really started? His shoulders slumped miserably at the thought of bringing such a horrible fate down upon his friends.

"It's quite a nice view they have out here. Mind if I join you?"

Legolas turned at the sound of the pleasant voice behind him and saw Faramir standing at the sliding glass door that led out from their guest quarters onto the balcony. He had a mug of steeping tea in one hand. The elf hopped down from the balcony railing. "No, of course not," he said, gesturing to the empty area of the balcony beside him.

Faramir slid the door shut and came to stand beside Legolas, leaning one elbow on the railing as he stared out over the Tolkien Department courtyard, beyond to the KI quad, and beyond that to the wide, empty, green plains of the Hub. He jiggled the string attached to his tea bag absently while mint-scented steam spiraled upwards.

Legolas shifted on his feet restlessly, feeling a little awkward in the company of the Man. Not that he wasn't used to being around Men, but he didn't know Faramir all that well and he wasn't sure how his other companions felt about the quest or about how he'd claimed the role of the Pen-bearer. Not that anyone else had looked like volunteering. But still, did all of them realize the grave peril that they were walking into as clearly as he did, and the fact that his presence would threaten them all?

"Where are the others?" he asked when the silence had dragged on uncomfortably between them for a minute or so.

Faramir smiled a little and gestured back toward their quarters. "They're around. Merry and Pippin raided the cafeteria and brought a bunch of food back up and decided to watch a…a…movie with Éowyn. I'm not sure what they picked out, but they were breathing down that pizza stuff with all the mushrooms, and Pippin found these bags of corn in the cupboard that when you heat them up, they turn into fluffy white balls. They were eating those, too. You should have seen their delight when they found the tea bags, though," he said with a wider smile. "They insisted that Éowyn and I had to try it out." He indicated his own mug by lifting it slightly. "If it tastes as good as it smells, and if it's anything like every other hobbit accessory I've been exposed to, it can't be too bad, but it doesn't look very appetizing, I will admit."

Legolas sniffed at the aromatic steam and smiled at the thought of his little friends. "I don't know any folk that understand home as well as hobbits. If you know what I mean," he added. I wonder how long it will be before I see my home again, he finished in his thoughts. "Where's Gimli?" he asked before dark contemplations could cloud his mind.

Faramir chuckled. "Still down in the cafeteria, as far as I know. When I left half an hour ago, he was going through this new drink by the bottleful that he'd discovered – root beer, I think they called it – and telling any of the KI servers that would listen everything about dwarven culture that anyone would care to know. I think he was trying to explain something about underground column architecture in Erebor to the servers at the stir-fry station when I left."

Legolas couldn't help but laugh a little. "Yes, that sounds like Gimli," he conceded.

Faramir craned his neck around, glancing around the collection of buildings. "And I don't see anything on fire or falling down, so Sauron must be sulking in some corner. I haven't really seen him much since the meeting this morning actually."

A shiver of unease made its way down Legolas's spine. He was still not sure what his feelings were about the last member of the Fellowship. No, that wasn't quite true. He knew perfectly well what he thought of Sauron, but those feelings were warring with the fact that he trusted Hawk and Porter, and it was Hawk and Porter who had chosen Sauron. But all the same, he wasn't looking forward to having to watch out for a dark lord in addition to a worldful of Sues once they started on their quest in the morning.

They both stared out to the west as Faramir took a cautionary sip at his tea and made a sound that Legolas took to mean it was good. He'd have to try some before he retired for the night. Merry, Pippin, and Sam had told him all about their homey drink back in Middle-earth on the Quest of the Ring, along with other numerous tidbits about hobbit culture. Perhaps Gimli and the hobbits were not so far off the mark, though. Perhaps everyone found comfort in speaking of their own, familiar customs and bits of life, no matter what race they were, when they were far from home. Legolas found himself thinking back to his own chambers in Mirkwood, in the underground halls of his father, with soft, deerskin rugs on the floor and the tree roots interwoven with the walls and the shimmering gleam of the natural spring that bubbled up from the corner, creating a lulling rush of music that he had fallen asleep to ever since he was a child…

He stared out to where the glowing orb of Middle-earth hung above the western horizon, realizing he was farther away from his home than he'd ever been before. And to think that he'd thought he was far away when he was merely down in Rohan and Gondor! He began to realize just how young and inexperienced he really was for his kind. Was this how the elder members of his race felt all the time? The ones who had come across the sea or even his distant cousins who had once dwelt in sunken Beleriand? And now, would he see his own home ever again or would he too find himself in perpetual exile?

Without noticing it, his hand had tightened on the maple tree branch. Now it snapped with a sharp crack.

Legolas stared at the broken twig in his hand and found himself opening his mouth to apologize to the tree before he remembered that the trees here didn't have thoughts and feelings the way they did in Middle-earth. Sheepishly, he dropped the twig over the balcony and rubbed his sticky, sap-damp hand against the bottom of his tunic.

"I think you're a little wound-up," Faramir noted.

Legolas couldn't help but nod in acknowledgment, still trying to rub the sap off his hand.

"I can't really blame you," Faramir added quietly. "I don't think this quest is going to be easy. But at least you've been on a quest before."

The elf prince glanced over at the Man and realized how tired he suddenly looked. Well, mortals always looked a little tired to Legolas, but the Gondorian looked weary in a way that didn't seem right for his age, especially for someone with smoking hot Shieldmaiden girlfriend.

Faramir took a sip from his tea and shifted a little uncomfortably. "I'm sure you'll do all right," Legolas reassured the young Ranger, meaning it even through his own unease. "If anything, I'm sure Éowyn won't let anything happen to you."

At the thought of his stalwart girlfriend, Faramir smiled. "Perhaps you're right there." But his expression quickly darkened again. "But then again, my family doesn't exactly have the greatest luck, especially on quests. What if my father is right? What if I do screw things up? Maybe Boromir would have been a better choice for this quest after all…"

Legolas stopped him with a hand on the Man's shoulder. "I don't know you very well, but I do know your brother. Boromir isn't perfect, but he does know about courage, family, loyalty, honor. He meant what he said to you and Denethor at the Briefing. And as for your father." Legolas rolled his eyes briefly. "We all know that he was wrong about a lot of things."

Faramir set his cup of tea down and stared into the swirling brown liquid. "He wasn't wrong about everything. I've never been the warrior Boromir is; I don't see now how I'm going to be any use in this quest. Don't get me wrong – I've got you back and I'll fight the Sues as hard as I have to – but I don't see what difference I'm really going to make."

The elf prince was silent for a while, running his finger over the scar on the branch he'd broken until it dried. Faramir's fears echoed his own. It wasn't that Thranduil had told him he was a loser all his life or that he had a heroic older sibling to look up to, but deep down, he didn't know what use he could possibly be on this seemingly hopeless mission either. Frodo's quest hadn't had much hope, but at least he'd known his role in it: to protect Frodo at all costs and to fight against the flow of Evil. But orcs stopped chasing you when you shot them full of enough arrows. Now he was the Pen-bearer, tasked to destroy the Suethor's Pen, and he had no idea how he was going to accomplish that. Everyone was looking to him to make things right and destroy the Sues. Suddenly, he wondered if this was how Frodo had felt during his entire quest.

Then he remembered something he'd overheard Gandalf say to Frodo once, during the dark days of Moria he thought. He spoke out loud, not sure really whether he was speaking to Faramir or to himself. "Do not think of the darkness that lies ahead but of the light that lies behind. Think of what you are fighting for, not what you are fighting against, and you will find the strength and wisdom to accomplish your task. It is not the path that you think you are supposed to follow, but the path that you choose to follow, that will make all the difference in the end."

Faramir looked at the elf pensively then smiled slowly. "Wise words, friend elf. Let me guess: Mithrandir?"

When Legolas nodded, they both grinned at the memory of their shared friend. Faramir picked his cup back up and took another sip. "But it's still a lot easier to feel assured about the quest that's already been written down and finished."

Legolas headed towards the slide door. "Yes, it is, but that's tomorrow. I'm going to find Merry and Pippin, see what they're up to, and get myself a cup of that tea before I go to bed. Will you join me, Faramir?"

The Gondorian Ranger followed with a smile. "I think I will, Legolas."

~o~o~o~

Only a few buildings away, Hawk had also sought the peace and quiet of a western facing balcony on the Tolkien Department Senior HQ building, inside of which her colleagues were holding a farewell party for herself and Porter. Convinced by Porter, she'd stuck around long enough to listen to a few rousing "go-get-'em" speeches, to accept the complements of exemplary bravery and KI patriotism, as well as random tidbits of advice, and to share a round of red velvet cake and champagne with Lance Morgan when he'd dropped by to nod his thanks and approval to her once again. However, soon after that, Finn had hooked up his iPod and begun cranking out Nightwish and Falconer over the stereo, and Hawk had taken the opportunity to slip off subtly and escape to the fresh air outside.

Strains of music still floated out from the large staff lounge room behind her, but she ignored it and focused instead on the soft rustle the wind in the trees made. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine herself back at home, sitting on the swing on the wrap-around porch outside the big country house, listening to the willows and maples stir, a little girl again, back before she'd been recruited…

Hawk opened her eyes and stared pointedly out over the KI fencing to the plains and blue horizon beyond, even though there was nothing unusual to see, not for her at least. The white orb of Middle-earth glowed in its usual evening position, looking not unlike a particularly bright star or planet might back on Earth. Unlike Earth, however, the evening sky of the Hub showed no signs of darkening; night was a more subtle affair here. It had taken Hawk several months to adjust to sleeping in a place where the sky never really grew dark. Time and time-keeping also did not work the same way in the Hub as it did on Earth, therefore. The flat disk of the Hub rotated, completing a full circuit every twenty hours. Time was kept then by where the white point of Middle-earth was at any given time during the day. During the ten hours that it was to the east of the Hub were considered the Hub morning, the "me" or Middle-earth East" hours, while the hours of afternoon, "mw" or "Middle-earth West," were when the other world could be seen in the western sky. "Midnight" and "Noon" therefore were the times when Middle-earth was directly south and north respectively.

There were always staff awake and alert in KANON Institution at any given moment in Hub-time, for it was a known law of nature that Sues could attack at any time and they did so most often when they were least wanted. However, the majority of KI staff were off duty from around 7mw to 6me. Hawk, Porter, and the character members of the Fellowship of the Pen were slotted to leave first thing the next morning, by 5:30, to hopefully get a good start on their first day. Hawk was not looking forward to booting the characters out of their beds and getting on the road, especially when that road led to a Sue-world.

She had a feeling things would get ugly pretty quickly.

But whatever happened, she had to keep the Fellowship together. She had to get Legolas and the Pen to Isinguard. She had to protect the characters under her care at all costs and keep their world from ultimate destruction. She wasn't sure how it was going to happen, but it just was going to, even if she had to carve the path there through the eye-rollingly perfect bodies of Sues.

But she couldn't help but feel the smallest little tightening in her stomach whenever she thought about it. She was the best Sue-Slayer, not just in the Tolkien Department, but in KI. She'd trained probably half of the new recruits in the Department over the last five years since she'd been promoted, and she knew they all looked up to her. She and Porter were the sort of team to which all the newbie teams (and plenty of senior staff ones) aspired. She'd killed hundreds – thousands even – of Sues in her day. Middle-earth was the safest it had been for the last few centuries.

And yet, now all of that was hanging by a thread. Now Galadriel's line about knifepoints and straying but a little – which Hawk had always found annoying poetic – was making a bit more sense. A threat had surfaced unlike any that had been seen for millennia. The escape of Niphredil Tinúviel Half-elven yesterday had shown that even she and Porter were not infallible, especially against the super-Sues that would now be formed with the power of the Pen. But everyone was looking to her to make sure this threat was stamped out once and for all. The KI staff believed in her. The Middle-earth characters believed in her. Porter believed in her. Lance Morgan believed in her.

She balled her hand into a fist and brought it down forcefully on the balcony railing. No! Since when had she been afraid of a few Sues? She was Hawk Sue-Slayer, senior KI member. She would not fail them. Not Legolas or Faramir or any the characters. Not Porter. Not Lance. She was going to kick those Sues right in their dainty behinds and send them crying back to their Suethors. And then they were going to throw that Vala-blasted Pen right into the Hearth of Doom.

The strains of music changed as a new song started playing. For a moment, the sound was louder than it should have been, and Hawk realized someone must have opened the door. She turned and caught her breath slightly at the sight of the tall, elegant figure closing the door behind him. She immediately straightened. "President," she said with a respectful and professional nod.

Lance offered her a small smile. "Enjoying your party, I see, Hawk," he said, pursing his lips a little as if to conceal a smile. "Finn's taste in music seems right up your alley."

Hawk allowed herself a wry smile at the President's faint tone of sarcasm. She knew Lance preferred a more classical line-up himself, stuff like Mozart, Loreena McKennitt, Maglor. "I didn't know you were still here," she replied. "I thought you'd gone back to the Tower. I apologize for taking off so soon."

"No matter," Lance said with a shrug. He leaned his back on the balcony railing and rolled his shoulders as if easing a cramp. "I understand that it's been an intense last few days for you and it's going to be a long day tomorrow and probably the day after and the day after. Porter is enjoying the party at least. I think if you make at least one more appearance and some sort of short and to-the-point speech, no one will complain."

"I think I'd be able to manage that," Hawk replied. Then she added. "I'm not shouting over Finn's music, though."

Lance gave her a look of mock concern. "Will I need to call in Sauron for you? I hear he's pretty good at silencing a room. Though I did hear that he and the rest of the Middle-earth characters got shouted down by a certain Sue-Slayer this morning…"

This time it was Hawk's turn to momentarily purse her lips. "As I said, I think I'll manage," she said.

"Yes, I am sure you'll manage," Lance replied with a nod. "With all of it."

Hawk felt that familiar tightening in her stomach. She kept her face impassive though as she gave the President another nod. "I appreciate your faith," she said smoothly.

Lance frowned slightly then reached over and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "You're the best we have, Hawk. If anyone can do it, it'll be you."

Hawk's eyes flickered away to the white glow of Middle-earth. "Thank you, President."

Lance stood, brushed his finger briefly through his curling hair, then nodded to the door. "I'll see you inside shortly?"

Hawk nodded again. Again the music escaped as Lance opened the door and stepped back inside, then Hawk was left alone once more with the rustle of the trees and Middle-earth shining on the horizon.

~o~o~o~

"Hey, Hawk, where have you been?"

Porter trotted up alongside his colleague as she headed towards the north stairwell. Music was still pounding out of the stereo, so he caught her arm just as she reached the door and gave her a small tug. She jerked and stiffened, as if her thoughts had been completely elsewhere, but when she saw her team mate standing beside her, she gave him a curt nod. "Finding somewhere I could breathe for a while," she answered in a tone that matched her nod.

"Aww, c'mon, Hawk," Porter said lightly. "We're going to be outdoors getting as much fresh air as we want for the next who-knows-how-long. I'm betting the air of Middle Earth is so fresh you could drown in it. We'll be longing for some regular, dirty air by the time we're done. Come on and have some ice cream. I'll tell Finn to put on 'Into the West.'"

Hawk gave him a small but fond flash of a smile. "Tempting, but I think I'll pass."

Porter made a dismissive sound. "Pssh, party-pooper. Don't tell me you're heading for bed already. It's not even 9 yet."

Hawk gave him a mock severe glare. "We're leaving at 5:30 tomorrow. I don't plan to be dragging my heels, and I'd better not be dragging you out of bed along with those characters. I'm counting on you to help me with Gimli, too; you know how stubborn dwarves can be first thing in the morning."

Porter made an if you say so hand gesture. "I'll be fine."

Hawk noticed the thin white bandage on his arm and indicated it. "How's your cut? You did get it checked out in the infirmary, didn't you?"

Porter waved his hand airily, "Yes, yes, they said it was just a cut and it'll heal in a week or so. They even scanned it and couldn't find any traces of poison or dark magic. Now why don't you get off to bed before you worry yourself to death before we even start this quest."

Hawk looked ready to come back with a retort, but Porter made a shooing gesture at her. "Go on, you fussbudget. I don't want to be dragging you out of your bed in the morning. You're worse than five dwarves and a couple of ents to boot."

Hawk shook her head at him as if to say you're hopeless then gave him a quick pat on the back before she turned to the stairwell and vanished as quietly as a Ranger. He remained standing there, still looking at the door. Hawk was no socialite by a longshot, but all the same, he knew her well enough to tell that something was bugging her more than usual. He hoped she was all right. Then again, leading a company through the oldest of Sue-worlds was probably a daunting prospect. But he knew they'd manage. They always did. He had complete faith in his best friend and colleague and he knew without a doubt that she'd get all of them to the Hearth of Doom. And he'd be right there beside her, doing whatever she needed done to make it happen.

"Hey Porter, care for some ice cream?"

Porter found it his turn to be jolted from his thoughts at a light touch on his arm and a voice behind him. He turned to find the blonde secretary, Veronica, smiling at him and holding a bowl of ice cream in either hand. He flashed her a big smile. "Yeah, that looks great."

She smiled back and handed him one of the bowls. He took a bite then pointed the spoon at her. "Haha, triple chocolate. Someone knows my favorite."

She smirked. "I did some snooping."

"Meaning you asked Finn," Porter retorted, spooning up another mouthful.

She took a bite of her own ice cream, mint from the look of it, and glanced at the north stairwell door. "Hawk's done for the evening?"

Porter cast the door a look as well. "Yeah, early start tomorrow morning, you know."

Veronica was silent for a few seconds, a pensive expression on her face and a slight purse in her lips, then she glanced back at Porter. "Do you think it will take long?"

Porter shrugged. "I don't think any of us know. No one's really been in Middle Earth since Orinthia and Eledhil and they didn't exactly leave a lot of detailed records about their trip. And knowing Sue-worlds, it's probably changed drastically since they were there anyhow. It might take days. It might take months. It depends on how smoothly everything goes."

Veronica twirled her spoon slowly through her ice cream but didn't lift it to her mouth. "It's going to be dangerous, isn't it?" she said quietly, so that he could hardly hear her over the music.

He frowned then shrugged lightly, giving a small, lopsided smile. "Well, yeah, they're Sues, but we deal with Sues every day. We are Sue-Slayers after all." He laughed. "All I need to really do is make sure Hawk stays worked up and she'll slice up Sue after Sue all day long if need be. I'll position Merry, Pippin, and Sauron up front with her; that should do the trick." He shrugged again. "Yeah, we'll be all right."

Veronica lowered her eyes and her voice even more, continuing to swirl her ice cream distractedly. "What if it's not that easy though? What if something does go wrong? I mean, anything could; it's a Sue-world. What if something happens to Hawk or…or you?"

Porter grinned encouragingly. "Hawk'd die before she let a Sue take either of us out."

Veronica didn't return his smile this time. "Orinthia and Eledhil didn't do it. They weren't perfect, and Hawk might not be perfect either. A Sue got away from her yesterday, didn't she?"

Porter didn't smile now. "Sues get away from everyone every once in a while. We did everything we possibly could have done. What do you think we should have done?"

The secretary closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. "No, no, I'm sure you did. It's just…what if this whole quest…what if it's not really necessary?"

Porter raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"What if it's not really the wisest move? I mean, traveling straight through Middle Earth, with the character who attracts the most Sues, with the Pen that all the Suethors want. What if…what if Lance is sending you on a wild goose chase, a really dangerous wild goose chase? Surely, there are safer ways to protect the canon worlds. There's gotta be another way to do this."

Porter pressed his lips tightly together then said, "Frodo gets to Mt. Doom, doesn't he? Despite the fact that lots of people tell him it's a stupid idea? The characters trust us. Lance trusts us. And Hawk trusts Lance. And I trust Hawk."

Veronica lifted her eyes briefly. "Yeah, yeah, I know you do, Porter." She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "You just watch out and take care, all right." She nodded as if to herself. "Yeah, take care."

Very quickly, she leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Then, just as quickly, she turned and walked back out into the room, until she was lost among the other mingling KI members, leaving Porter standing awkwardly in the corner by the north stairwell with a bowl of half-melted triple chocolate ice cream in his hand.

~o~o~o~

Middle-earth was shining on the eastern horizon when Hawk's alarm buzzer went off. She sighed, slapped the buzzer off, then rolled out of bed. Five minutes later, she was wearing her KI uniform, her hair was tucked up neatly in its bun, and she was hoisting up the light traveling pack that she'd put together the night before.

Porter met her on the dorm landing and together they headed down to the main gates of KANON Institution.

The characters had all been informed of the time to meet at the gate the previous night, and despite Hawk's fears, by the time 5:20 rolled around, the last of the Fellowship (Merry and Pippin, chatting about popcorn and drinking tea from portable paper cups) had arrived. Hawk glanced over the assembled group and couldn't help but give a small nod of approval. Legolas, Faramir, and Gimli all looked a little tired but determined and ready, the two former with their bows and knives and the latter with a (relatively) light, maneuverable axe. Éowyn was wearing a Roherric cuirass and a short sword at her side and looked as fierce as a dragon sitting on its hoard. Sauron still looked like he'd rather throw somebody to Shelob than go on the quest but he was decked out in full armor and looked threatening enough that hopefully he'd be able to scare half the Sues away. Merry and Pippin looked as chipper as usual and very possibly caffeinated, though it was difficult to tell with hobbits sometimes, and Porter gave Hawk a thumbs up when she looked his way, although his grin wasn't quite a big as it usually was first thing in the morning. She nodded. They would all do. They were going to have to.

Lance had shown up to send them off. He stood on the neat lawn a few paces away, his hands tucked in his pockets. Everything that needed to be said had already been said, and neither Hawk nor Lance were ones to waste words on unnecessary or sentimental farewells. Instead, the President just gave her his customary nod and she returned it. Then she turned to face the gate and the green plains beyond. She started walking and one by one, the rest of the Fellowship fell in step with her.

It took approximately three and a half minutes for things to fall apart.

"Merry! I don't have a pipe. I didn't bring mine from Middle-earth," Pippin exclaimed. "Did you bring a spare pipe? I was looking forward to having some good smokes in the evenings."

"Oh shut up, back there," Sauron snarled, "or I'll smoke you, you little-"

"Don't you talk to the hobbit lads like that," Gimli interrupted gruffly. "And you're one to talk. You're clanking like a whole orc legion. Really, full armor? Do you know how to dress for a quest?"

"Oh, don't give me that. You've got almost as much armor on as I do. You're just so short it's not as noticeable. Don't walk in front of me or I might step on you."

"Merry, do you think we'd be able to make our own pipes? It can't be that hard. Oh wait, you did bring some pipeweed, didn't you?"

"Maces are completely impractical forms of weapons, by the way. They're far too heavy and clumsy. For a quest, a light axe is a far smarter choice. Not that I'd expect smart choices out of someone who puts his soul in a Ring."

"My power. Not my soul, my power. And I could squash you with one blow. See who made the smarter choice of weaponry then."

"Éowyn, I think I stuffed my bag of pipeweed in the back pocket of your pack. Could you check to make sure it's there?"

"Axes are better!"

"Maces!"

"AXES!"

"MACES!"

"Pipeweed?"

Porter sidled up next to Hawk. "Ready to turn back yet?"

Hawk gave Porter a long, long look. "Porter, we are never going to make it there," she said.