All Lori saw before the cockpit window shattered in front of her was a dark, long shape coming towards her.
She tried to prepare for it in the split second she was given, bracing for it while at the same time resolved to keep her hands locked on the controls no matter what happened. And still when it hit, her efforts were meaningless. If she had been in her plane, she would have been wearing a helmet to protect her from the hail of glass that resulted from the shattering window. Fighting every natural instinct to shield her eyes, Lori could only turn her head away from the spray of glass and clamped her eyes shut, praying that would be enough.
When it assault of tiny glass fragments came, it pelted her skin as expected. Some of the tiny pieces bounced off her but others did not. Her face burned from multiple cuts but Lori ignored them, struggling to maintain her focus even thought everything around her was in disarray. She could feel the chopper banking sharply, tilting to the side at a 45 degree angle. Amidst the sound of cracking glass, she heard the rush of air that swept through the shattered cockpit window and the distant whump whump whump of helicopter rotors.
And of course, the frightened cries of her passengers.
It was for them she fell back on fifteen years of training, determined not to let them down as she panted hard, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she regained her equilibrium and brought her wounded bird under control. She was vaguely aware of something stinging her inner thigh but she ignored, it blinking away any fragments of to risk opening her eyes. White light burned her retinas when she opened them and spots appeared in them.
They were still in the air, she thought off-handily. She glanced at the gyro to see the position of her craft in the artificial horizon and immediately compensated, shifting them from their unsteady flight path. Lori was vaguely aware of something stinging in her upper thigh but she ignored it. All she cared about was ensuring she was in control of the craft. They were under attack and the peaks of the Carpathians were jagged teeth ready to snatch out of the air like a predator in waiting. Lori was determined to see to it that their descent was entirely of her choosing.
She searched the air for their assailant when she realised that someone was speaking to her. Through all this she'd completely forgotten she had a co-pilot. Well sort of.
“Jet! Are you okay?” Erik demanded as he climbed back into the co-pilot's seat. He’d started calling her Jet Girl after learning she was a fan of the comic book series Tank Girl which he remembered from his youth as well.
Erik had been thrown out of his seat when the attack had come and had fortunately escaped the spray of glass that came from the shattered cockpit window. She'd taken the full brunt of it and Erik looked at her, felt his stomach lurch. There were cuts all over her lovely face and though she hadn't noticed it yet or was refusing to, there was a large piece of imbedded in her thigh and the expanding pool of red on her overalls told him how bad it was.
"Make yourself useful Aussie, get that glass off me!" She snapped, ignoring the burning sensation on her face as she felt his hands dusting the glass off the rest of her body. Lori didn't look at him, keeping her eyes focus on the levelling horizon ahead of her, "Whatever hit us is going to be coming back!"
That thought made Erik glance outside but he could not see anything. The Nazgul that had been flanking them had pulled back as if giving way for something, much, much worse. Cold fear struck his heart at what that might be.
He didn't have time to ponder that question for long because as Lori jerked hard on the throttle, causing the chopper to pull up above a particularly tall ridge of mountain, he saw the sky around them darken. An ominous shadow fell over the craft as the sound of great wings beating eclipsed the whumping of the helicopter rotors.
After the destruction of her entire squadron over Cornwall, that sound was branded on her mind and she found herself reaching the only conclusion that would see them survive the next few hours.
“We’ve got to land! We'll almost where we need to be and we won't stay in the air much longer with that thing after us!" She explained herself briefly, not waiting for any agreement. The others might know all there was to know about this insanity but in the air, Lori considered herself the authority and to her, they were all civilians, she needed to get them to the ground in one piece.
Eric was about to respond when he saw a long, saurian neck lower in front of them. The monstrous head of a dragon glared at them. If it wasn't so terrifying, Eric might have noticed how magnificent it looked. The little boy in him was filled with a sense of wonder even through his utter terror. Golden eyes glared back at them and the puff of dark smoke escaping its nostrils gave them both warning of what was coming next.
“Hold on!” Lori screamed behind her, hoping to give her passengers enough time to secure themselves while she tried to escape the monster about to reduce them to a cinder.
Lori banked just as the ball of fire escaped the dragon's mouth. A column of white hot flame surged through the air and caught the side of the chopper instead of the front. With the cockpit window broken, Lori had no doubts that had they been in the path of the blast, she and Erik would be dead. The chopper veered away from the dragon, skimming the top of the mountain ridge, causing the tall trees of primal beech to sway as it surged past. As expected, the dragon gave chase and Lori knew the only way to keep ahead of it was to bring the chopper closer to the mountains.
Erik found himself gripping the seat as he saw the chopper began to drop even lower, until the verdant walls of the mountains were only beneath them but in some instances, flanking them. Beneath them, trees parted beneath the rush of chopper blades and high velocity winds. He could smell the dragons breathe in pursuit and see the forest alight where it had missed them. Despite her injury, Lori was riding the throttle expertly, weaving this way and that as she navigating the hilly terrain, staying just aloft enough to avoid collision but low enough to ensure even the dragon had difficulty maintaining its pursuit.
The chopper lifted and dropped as it flew over green hills, forest of primal beech trees and finally through the narrowing crevasse that had been gouged through the mountain through centuries of erosion. A large beech had fallen across the gap, its thickness wide enough to play the part of a natural bridge. Lori dropped the chopper beneath it, somehow managing to pass without causing the rotor blades to meet wood. The dragon had no such hesitation and slammed into it with the full force of its body, shattering the trunk into a thousand splinters and tearing each end from the either side of the gap.
As the crevasse continued to narrow, Lori banked hard once more, veering the chopper to its side so sharply that it was flying at a 90 degree angle. As they pushed through the proverbial eye of the needle, the dragon's formidable bulk was not enough to penetrate the space and it became violently lodged in between the two walls on either side of its body. The creature let out a bellow of outrage at the indignity of the situation, setting alight the trees and vegetation as it struggled to break free. However, the mountain held it in place and for the moment at least, Anacalgon was halted.
"We have to land," Lori said as she aimed the chopper towards the tower. "We don't have much time. I can get us close but not all the way.” Indeed, beyond the hills the land had been scraped clean of all vegetation. The plains of rolling green had become dirt as if Saeran had wanted nothing living surrounding his dark home. “It’s open ground all the way there. We'll never make it," she met his eyes briefly before facing front again. "The dragon will get us before we reach it."
"Do it Jet Girl," Erik replied, unconcerned that he was making the decision for the entire group. He didn't care. He was conscious of the blood he could see spreading across the lower half of her flight suit.
Lori didn't wait for his approval because she was already searching for a landing site. The terrain ahead was green, filled with tall trees and thick shrubs. The mountain range offered what concealment it could provide but beyond it, there was only flat ground that gave no shelter to anyone approaching the tower. Lori knew what was stake and she was a soldier, she was prepared to die if it meant getting Fred to Saeran.
Somehow getting Fred to him seemed to be the only thing that mattered now.
Clearing the range, it was only when she reached the area where scorched ground met the still living mountain did she bring down the chopper. On the flattened ground, she could see the devastated forest that had been there before Saeran had unearthed his dark tower from the earth. The terrain surrounding it looked as if it had been bathed with fire or devastated by something just as terrible. Charred tree stumps pointed at the sky like talons clawing at the air while the ground was almost black like ash.
"Head for the woods," she ordered after she had set down the craft amidst a cloud of dark, choking dust. "That will give you some cover before that thing comes back."
The screech of the dragon tore through the cloud of dusk settling over the helicopter.
"Head for the woods!" Erik barked at the others, repeating Lori’s demand, however, he hadn’t forgotten what shape she was in. "Aaron get over here!"
The urgency in his voice made Aaron run to the cockpit as the others were following Lori’s direction and disembarking. He’d spent the violent journey in the rear, staying close to Bryan to ensure the MI6 man's injuries didn't get worse from all the turbulence. Rushing past Miranda and Frank who were attending to their children, he caught sight of Legolas bounding out of the chopper, already searching for the best place to take cover before the dragon returned. Entering the cockpit, he only had to take one look at Lori to know why Erik had called him.
Erik was already pulling off his belt when Aaron appeared, having some idea of what to do but grateful that there was a qualified doctor to assess the situation in case he was wrong. Erik had barely much to say to the woman since her arrival among them but she had fallen into this this insanity head first and had still stood them and helped them get this far. When she had told him to get the others out and leave, Erik realised she had intended to be left behind and after what had happened to Jason, it was something he couldn’t stomach for one moment.
"I think her femoral's nicked," he declared, gesturing to the blood.
"You don't have time for this," Lori exclaimed exasperated, hearing the words but refusing to register them because at this moment it was unimportant. Erik and Aaron needed to leave before the dragon came and she was aware that in her condition, she’d only slow them down. "You have to get Fred to that Lord Voldermort up there,” she glanced at the tower. “Don't waste time with me...."
"Yeah because we’re just going to leave you behind,” Aaron snorted, refusing to entertain the notion in the slightest. “What is it with the women in this group?” He asked, not expecting an answer. “Help me get her out of this seat. I'll tie a tourniquet on her leg and that ought to hold until we get some cover."
"Right,” Erik said grateful that Aaron was taking charge of the situation and immediately slid his arms beneath Lori and lifted her up from the seat. It was only when he picked her up did he realise she was sitting in her own blood. His stomach hollowed at the sight of it slick against the vinyl when he held her up.
Aaron took the belt Erik had volunteered and immediately tied a tourniquet around her thigh, hoping that would do for the moment. He judged that while serious, it wasn't the deeper femoral artery that had been damaged but rather the superficial femoral. If it had been the latter, she would have bled out in minutes. At least now they had a chance of saving her.
Beyond the walls of the chopper, the dragon's bellow grew louder.
"This macho bullshit is going to you both killed!" Lori sputtered as Erik hoisted her up and over his shoulder. “Hey!!!” She cried out, unaccustomed to such undignified handling. She was a Captain for Christ sake!
"Jet! Do me a favour and bloody shut up!" Erik snapped as he and Aaron hastily retreated out of the cabin. "We are not leaving you!"
They emerged from the craft just as they saw the dragon appearing over the top of the mountain they had just crossed. The size of it almost blocked out the sun and when its wings flapped, Erik swore he could feel the air from its beating wings rushing over his face. It was searching for them, its saurian neck swaying side to side, the eyes on its massive head scanning the ground in search of its prey. It would be only a matter of seconds before it spotted them, that much Erik had no doubt.
"This way!" Legolas shouted, beckoning from behind the tree line covering the mountain’s edge. The archer was already poised with his mithril tipped arrows to shoot them at the dragon, for all the good it would do.
Erik and Aaron hurried along the charred ground, crunching scorched and disintegrating vegetation under foot as they closed in on the forest. Unfortunately Legolas’ cries had not only drawn their attention but also that of the dragon searching the scourged landscape for them. Ancalagon manoeuvred its massive bulk in mid-air and head straight for them.
Visitors to Gorgoroth, let me welcome you with a kiss.
Its voice was a low reptilian hiss and that reverberated through them, like their spines were its own tuning forks to use. Both men felt eerily chilled to the bone at the malevolence in its voice, concealing its evil intent beneath the thin veneer of civilised speech. It spoke just once before its jaws widened and a jet of fire exploded from the wide mouth full of serrated teeth.
They reached the trees just ahead of the fireball and as they disappeared into the ancient forest of primal beech trees, everything behind them burst into flames. The old trees screaming their agony in an incendiary cry of dying.
“This way! This way!” Legolas cried out, his arm waving them onward, his eyes widening in horror at the wanton destruction behind them.
Carrying Lori over his shoulder, Erik could feel the prickling heat against his back as he and Aaron followed Legolas deeper into woods. The woods ahead of them remained untouched for the moment but there was no telling for how long that would be. It was becoming difficult to breathe with the load he was carrying because the smoke was thickening and burnt embers being carried forward in the wind. Erik wondered how determined the dragon was going to be in hunting them down or how much destruction it was prepared to do to accomplish it.
The sudden crack of lightning made Erik glance upwards and he realised that thick clouds closing in around them wasn't just smoke. The blue sky was quickly vanishing under thick cumulous clouds that were cackling with spidery tendrils of electricity. With a sudden burst of realising, Erik realised those were thunder clouds up there. Rain. Was it too much to hope for rain?
Ignoring the possibility for now, Erik returned his attention to Legolas who had found a path through the trees up the side of the mountain. His legs were straining against the steep ascent but adrenaline was going a long way to helping him keep up. The elf stopped running as he came through a thick patch of shrubs and was hacking away with his sword to clear away the branches that concealed an opening into the mountain side.
Overhead, the claps of thunder had become more frequent, until it was difficult to imagine where one ended and another began. The charge of electricity through the air was apparent by the flashes of lightning overhead and by the time Legolas had parted enough of the branches for he and Lori to pass through, rain had started to splatter against the land in heavy, pregnant drops. In a matter of seconds, they were standing in pounding rain that even masked the dragon's beating winds.
"It’s still coming!" Lori warned, able to see it from her undignified position over his shoulder. The sky was grey and air was filled with the steam from rapidly extinguished flames but she could see the silhouette of the beast in the air, continuing its search. It shook its head, trying to combat the water that was making it difficult to maintain the flame in its nostrils.
"Quickly," Legolas ushered them in, allowing Erik and Aaron to enter the cave.
“Watch your head!” He warned Lori and hurried in, ignoring her consternation as the passed the threshold and started down the cramped passage that lead downwards. Thank Christ for that, he thought softly.
The passage was dark but fortunately not pitches black as Erik could see light radiating further along the tunnel as he made his way down, his boots crunching against the gravelly floor. While the corridor was narrow, it was still high enough that Lori wasn't in danger of hitting her head against the ceiling wall as they moved down its length. The air was dank and musty but still preferable from the choking smoke that had resulted from the dragon’s wanton burning of the woods above. He hoped the rain had snuffed out the rain before the whole forest was razed.
"We've been down here before haven't we?" Aaron spoke as they approached the light in the distance and realised that it emptied into a larger cavern. Voices he recognised as belonging to Miranda and Frank could be heard echoing from it.
"Yes," Legolas nodded as he glanced over his shoulder and listened with his keen elven hearing for any indications of pursuit. He could hear the distant sound of teeming rain but the dragon was now silent. However, he was not about to discount the possibility that Sauron might have conjured up a new enemy to menace them. "These are the caves where we found his uruks."
"I'm impressed you remembered how to get down here,” Aaron complimented, remembering all too well their first encounter with David Saeran and how closed he had come to destroying the world once before.
“I did not remember,” Legolas admitted as they reached the cavern where the others were waiting. The light was coming from a flashlight Miranda was holding that was powerful enough to illuminate the immediate area. “It was Fred that led us here.”
************
The former Bara-dur had been no stranger to the screams of the tortured. In fact, Bara-dur never seemed quite right unless there was someone in residence who was suffering in some fashion. The dark tower had been built as a monument to torment by its master, a symbol of evil to all fell creatures throughout the entirety of Middle Earth. It stood as a dark reflection of Lothlorien, that beacon of light to the armies of men and elves while Bara-dur belonged not only to Sauron but the disenfranchised races of Arda who shunned the happy civilisation of the Valars’ select chosen.
The new tower would be no different. It would be the seat of Sauron’s power, standing tall and proud as the rest of the world burned. Even now, the Uruks that had slept for years in the caves beneath this land had emerged from their byres, preparing the tower for the arrival of the army presently marching across Europe bound for this land. The hour was growing close when all of their master’s plans would come to fruition and that was much to do in the aftermath.
Still during their labour, the screams that echoed from the most guarded room in the tower unsettled them despite their hardened natures because it was a new kind of agony. These were not the screams were the work of any torturer but cries that heralded the arrival of new life in the world. Uruks found the concept alien; that pain could usher in hope when all their experiences with the word had a contrary effect.
“Do we leave her to split like a gourd?” Morgul questioned his master as they approached the door to the chamber that was the source of the cries. “Why can we not simply cut her open and take the whelp?”
Saeran gave Morgul a withering glare, “I want both of them Morgul. The child is the instrument of my vengeance upon his father and the way to ensure that I will never have anything but absolute obedience from the mother. After all these years, I have learned that heroes are most often broken by the ones they love.”
Morgul shrugged, still not seeing the need to for the female’s continued existence. He knew that while his master was motivated by vengeance to possess the woman of his enemy, the Witch-King was also aware that there was more to it than that. Perhaps it had been too long since he had worn human skin that he'd forgotten how easy it was to become lost in its trappings. For Sauron, his corporeal shell had been lost for even longer and Morgul supposed his master could be forgiven for indulging in its excesses, no matter how distasteful it was.
"If that is the case," Morgul spoke as another wail was heard through the door, "should she be left to her own devices in birthing the child?" His hooded head tilted towards room and added, "It does not sound as if things are progressing well in there."
"Finding a midwife right now is rather problematic," Saeran retorted with a frown, conceding the point but supposing that was little to be down about it now, "but I am certain that she will manage."
Morgul was doubtful but he did not wish to waste any more time on the whole business so he tactfully changed the subject shifting instead to a matter he did deem important.
"What of Isildur's heir? He and his companions were driven to the ground by Anacalgon but they have sought refuge in the woods and with the storm, he cannot raise flame to find them. They will no doubt be coming here."
"Yes," Saeran agreed with that assertion, his expression pensive as he fell silent.
For the first time Morgul sighted something in his master's face that seemed out of place. Was it concern?
"My lord?" He asked cautiously. "You appear troubled."
"Troubled?" Saeran shot him another harsh glare, stiffening at the suggestion. "I am not troubled," he replied hotly and then added a moment later. "But I did not see them approach. I can see many things now but I cannot see them and I don't know why."
It was true. Since he had set these events into motion, there had been things within his ability to see. The power he had stolen from Melkor had nearly made him a god and he had been able to see events unfolding in Arda enough to manipulate fear and send the humans into a frenzy. He knew that Aaron Stone and his companions would be coming because that was a deduction steeped in logic, not because he had any clairvoyance to see it. There was something preventing his formidable prescience from seeing the wretched child who housed the soul of Frodo Baggins and once again the nagging sensation that he had missed something, returned.
"The Nazgul will hunt them down," Morgul assured, hiding his own concern over his master's blindness.
"It does not matter," Saeran said dismissively, refusing to dwell on what he could not change. "They will come to us. Aaron Stone will come for his wife while Bryan Miller will demand his vengeance for the death of his lover. Do not worry Morgul; you will have your dance with the shield maiden yet."
"The shield bitch!" Morgul spat hatefully. "Before she dies, she will know the taste of her children's flesh. I will feed them to her before she dies."
"To each his own," Saeran retorted as he reached for the door knob and turned it, "in the meantime, should they make it to the tower, see to it they are brought to me."
"Yes my lord," Morgul replied and retreated, grateful to be spared the ordeal of entering the room.
Saeran opened the door and stepped into the chamber. Like the exterior of the tower, the walls and floor were carved out of obsidian. There was only one window and it was little more than a hole carved out of the rock. Wind was blowing rain into the room, not that its lone occupant noticed. She was lying on the only thing that served as furniture in the room, a stone slab in the centre of the floor. Apart from that, all was bare. Eve McCaughey was lying against the hard surface, having assumed the birthing position. Drenched in sweat, her hair hung off her scalp in wet tendrils, her face red and flushed while her eyes were moist with tears.
"Hello Eve," he said casually. "How do you fare?"
Eve hadn't noticed his arrival but once she did, she turned her hatred on the monster who was determined to possess her like she was some damned prize. The contractions had started to become shorter and the pain more acute. Fear of doing this alone had driven her to the edge of reason and she didn't care what words she flung at her tormentor. She was outraged at her situation, that she had been denied the time to prepare for this birth or the turning of the best day of her life into a nightmare she and her child may never escape.
"Get out!" She snarled at him.
"Now, now, don't be testy," he said with amusement as he leaned against the wall and watched her. "I apologise for the lack of amenities but I can get you anything you need, you only need to ask." There was no kindness in his tone, just affirmation that she was completely beholden to his good graces. He wanted her to understand the reality of her captivity. "When this is all done, we can go to Ikea, get some baby furniture."
"Get out!" She screamed at him again refusing to listen. Listening to him talk as if he was the baby's father. Like Aaron. Thinking that made the fury well up inside her like a tidal wave. It threatened to crumble her resolve and the thought of that felt like bile in her throat. "I will deliver MY baby! I don't need anything from you!"
And she wouldn't, Eve told herself defiantly. No matter how much it hurt, she'd bring her son into the world. At least he couldn't take that from her.
************
"You have to keep moving," Lori insisted for not the first time as she was propped up against the wall of the cavern they had moved into after regrouping. Aaron had gone to work on her leg soon as Erik had set her down, cutting away the soaked fabric of her flight suit so he could assess the extent of the injury. However, Lori was a pragmatist and the time expended on treating her was a delay they couldn’t afford. She was a liability to them and she knew it. "You can't let me slow you down. You have to stop that son of a bitch before he sends the planet up in smoke."
She directed her last comment at Bryan and added, "Tell them."
Bryan was standing now, sufficiently recovered from his own injuries to be able to lead their party after a fashion. At Lori’s pointed demand, he shifted uncomfortably, wanting to look away from her intense gaze but unable to. He hated being put on the spot but only because he knew she was right. Nazgul would be reporting to Saeran that they were here, if it was not already done, and the dark lord would be hunting them. They had to get moving again.
Lori understood the stakes and so did Bryan. As much as he wanted vengeance for Tory’s murder, he had to remember that the world hung in the balance and everyone was expendable. Even him. Catching a glimpse of Miranda’s expression, Bryan saw that she knew Lori was right and so it was left to him to make the decision, he knew the others would be unable to.
“Let the doc fix you up luv, we can talk about this later," he said quietly evading the issue for the moment.
“There’s no later!” Lori exclaimed, her expression pained. She understood what needed to be done but she was scared too. She wanted them to do what was necessary before her nerve failed her. "He can fix me up but he won't be able to make me walk," Lori turned her gaze to Aaron and asked the question to get the answer the others needed to hear. "Will you?"
“You need a hospital,” Aaron said unable to meet her gaze. Until now, he had made no comment as Lori parlayed with Bryan because he hated himself for agreeing with patient. He knew better than anyone how hurt she was. He'd done his best to seal the damaged artery with adhesives but what she needed was stitches. At the very least, she could lose the leg and at worse, her life.
“You need a hospital where you can get vascular surgery. Adhesives won't hold if you move the leg. Any strenuous exertion and you could tear open the adhesive seal causing more damage,” He explained and then added finally, “You could lose the leg.”
Lori blinked away her horror at the thought of losing a limb. If she survived, her career as a pilot would almost certainly be over. Frankly she’d take death over that. However for now, Aaron’s explanation settled the matter. “That's it then," she said firmly, resolved raising her chin when she looked at the faces staring down at her. She could see their dilemma and was touched by their concern for her but they couldn’t linger here much longer. "You need to go, all of you."
"Bullshit," Erik found his voice, refusing to lose another member of their party. After Jason, it was just too much. “I can carry her, I’ve done it this far. I can get her the rest of the way."
"And then what?" Bryan asked finally realising they had to make a decision. “We’re going into hell mate. Saeran almost certainly knows we're here. He'll have a welcome party waiting for us."
"So what? You’re in no better shape to take him on either,” Erik countered. "A while ago we were about to read you the last bloody rites. How come you get to come with us and she doesn't?"
"Because I can still fight," Bryan replied, his calm voice was a sharp contrast to Erik's temper. "She can't."
"We're not leaving her!" Erik exploded making the children jump. Jason’s death had hit him hard and he was still reeling from the loss. His anger was keeping his anguish at bay but now, the idea of losing yet another person threatened to make that grief spill out again. Erik didn’t know why it went so against the grain to leave this woman behind. He hardly knew her. However, through the nightmare of the past few days, he’d counted her as a member of their strange family and he couldn’t bear to lose her.
"Then I'll stay," Frank spoke.
“What?” Miranda’s reaction was immediate and horrified. “No,” she said shaking her head as everyone turn to the archaeologist. “No, you’re not staying, you need to come with us, with your children!”
Frank turned to his wife and caught her face in his hands, making her look at him so she’d understand what he was about to say was not to be taken lightly. "Miranda, listen to me," he spoke earnestly. "You know as well as I do that we can't take Pip and Sammy in there with us. Bryan's right, Saeran will be waiting for all of us. You need to be on your game. You need to do what you're best at and you can't do that if you're worrying about us. You need to let us go."
"No, I can't..." she stared at him frantically. “I won’t leave you!”
“You have to leave us Miranda,” Frank repeated himself. “I’ll stay here with Lori and the boys, out of the way so that you can stop that bastard. I promise you, we’ll be here when you’re done.”
Miranda was torn because she was right. She’d been determined to keep the boys with her because of what had happened to Jason. However, this wasn’t simply travelling across Europe any more, this was entering the lion’s den where she’d need to throw down with Nazgul and Uruks. Frank was right, he had to be on her game. “But…” she started to say when suddenly, she felt a small hand enclosing hers.
Looking down, Miranda saw that Fred was staring up at her.
"It will be alright," Fred said looking at her with those dark eyes. "I promise."
There was something in her eyes that gave Miranda comfort. Something that made what Frank was telling her easier to bear. “Thank you,” she whispered, squeezing the little girl’s hand before turning to Frank again.
"See," Frank replied, smiling gratefully at the girl before speaking. "We'll be waiting right here, out of trouble while you got and try and Bryan in one piece."
As the decision was made, Erik drifted away from the group. Sucking in his breath and trying to stabilise the waring emotions inside of him, Erik suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Legolas was standing next to him, using that elven stealth of his to approach Erik without notice. The elf's expression was one of quiet understanding and Erik wondered how he did it, to go through the centuries losing the frail mortals he called friends. Erik couldn't imagine anything worse.
Legolas had allowed the others to debate on what was to be done, adding no counsel to the proceedings because it was unnecessary. The girl Lori, who bore the face of Lothiriel of Dol Amroth, had shown her courage in making the sacrifice she knew had to be done. He admired her for that and wondered if Erik's refusal to leave her was due to their Middle Earth relationship. After all, Lothiriel had been Eomer's Queen.
"A wizard once told me that sometimes the right path to follow is not always the same as the path of our friends,” Legolas said gently, understanding Erik’s anxiety even if the man himself didn’t. “Trust the child,'' he said throwing a glance at Fred, "I believe that is a greater purpose to what she asks of us that will reveal itself to us in time."
“I do," Erik admitted, appreciating the elf’s effort and forcing himself to take the words to heart even if everything inside of him was revolting against the suggestion of their company parting ways. Nevertheless, Fred had proved to be more than the seven year old child she'd been since leaving Valinor and her words were nothing to take lightly. "Thank you," he said nodding at Legolas before he walked to Lori who was still being treated by Aaron.
“How you be Jet?" He said dropping to the ground so he could look her in her eye.
"Like crap Aussie," she said faintly. She was getting tired and wanted to sleep. Her limbs were getting heavy and she wondered if it was shock.
"Yeah you look it," he smiled and brushed a strand of unruly dark hair out of her face. Aaron had cleaned the cuts she'd gotten when the cockpit window had shattered over her face and Erik was glad to see that they were superficial. "Look, we'll come back for you,” he said intently. “We’re all getting out of here.”
Lori's brow furrowed at the intensity of that belief in his eyes when she held his gaze after the statement. The surprise of it had jolted her out of her fugue she told herself that his insistence was due to the loss of his best friend but there was something in his eyes she couldn’t define. Something she wished they were in a different time and place to explore. Still, she gave him a usual trademark smirk, "You better, I've gotten used to you carrying me around like Prince Charming.”
Erik laughed, “I reckon I’ve never been called that.” Man whore, two timing bastard...yeah but never Prince Charming.
“I’ll bet,” she countered, “you got player written all over you.” She said before wincing when Aaron finished the dressing around her leg.
“Sorry,” the doctor apologised sheepishly and fell silent once more allowing the two their moment and hated that this might all there was of it for them.
“That obvious huh?” Erik chuckled, denying nothing.
“Only because you’re awful pretty,” she sighed and then closed her eyes before letting her head rest against the wall behind her. “Don't be long Aussie.”
On impulse, he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, a surge of new emotion rising up in his chest. "Will do Jet.”
************
It was quite something for a dark lord to admit that after millennia of existence, he was faced with something he’d never experienced before.
When she’d told him to leave, he’d remained purely out of spite. To show her that she could no more order him about than she could control what was to become of her. However, as he watched the drama play itself out, he had to confess a certain curiosity about the whole thing. He could not conceive why mortals willingly endured the process of giving birth, especially when it seemed like such a painful, drawn out affair. Of course, it probably had to do with capturing the immortality that elves so blatantly flouted that was denied them.
Still, he had to admire her stamina. She was clearly exhausted, clinging to what remained of her strength out of sheer desperation to ensure the arrival of her child into the world. Despite all the threats he had made, despite the callous revelations of his plans to use the infant as a bargaining chip, she was still determined to deliver him. Saeran honestly did not understand this imperative that drove mortals to such extremes when there was so little hope.
Eve tried to ignore his presence. She focussed on what she had to do, tried to draw on her training as a cop with first aid training and everything she’d read about in books or heard discussed by friends and colleagues with children. She was aware of how unprepared she was for any of this. She should had months to plan for this day, not a matter of days and now the baby was coming and all she could do was cope the best way she knew hard.
She knew the contractions were coming more rapidly and the compulsion to push was getting stronger and stronger. She had tried to control the urge to push, to regulate her breathing and maintain some kind of slow steady pace. However, the need was now overwhelming. If there had been a doctor present, he would have told her how dilated she was so she could be sure to imperative to push would not damage the baby if she wasn’t ready. Instead, there was no one except the bastard who had robbed her of a full-term pregnancy and she’d die before asking him for anything.
Saeran was continuing his observation when something new happened.
At first, he thought that the Nazgul was approaching the chamber or Eve's frantic mental state sending stray thoughts in his direction but he soon realise it was neither of these. Something of pure instinct and emotion was reaching out to him, something that was little more than a jumble of scattered sensations, part fear and part confusion. A fresh cry of pain from Eve send a jolt of raw emotion through him and suddenly, it occurred to him what was happening.
With her body bent, her arms propping her up and legs spread open the way she would have been if she were sitting in stirrups in a delivery room, Saeran saw Eve’s body taut with concentration as she strained forward. She’s pushing, he thought employing the vernacular. Unaware that he was doing it, he drifted towards the foot of the slab, inexplicably drawn to this curious mix of emotions.
"I can hear him," Saeran announced, his voice low and filled with wonder.
Eve froze for a moment and shot him a glare of hatred. He’d moved to the foot of the slab where he could see all of her. The thought of being so exposed made her felt her cheeks burn with humiliation. "Why can't you leave me alone?” She demanded through clenched teeth, despair oozing from each word. “You shouldn't be here!” Her voice broke and a strangled sob escaped her.
“You need help,” he stated, his voice kinder even though he was told himself he was unmoved by her anguish. "Your son is confused and frightened. I think he’s ready to be born."
Hearing him speak about the baby made her want to weep again. She was so exhausted and felt the pain so much. It was a struggle to keep going, especially what she knew awaited her and her baby when it was done. Saeran standing there, an interloper in this most precious moment made her want to scream, especially since she knew he was right. She had no comparison as to whether or not this was a difficult birth but the last ten had been agonizing. Was the pain supposed to be this bad? She didn’t know but she was afraid that it was because something wasn’t right.
Blinking away frustrated tears, Eve finally forced herself to face him Swallowing down the bitterness from what she had to do next, she met his gaze and said softly, “I…I…need to know if I’m fully dilated. I need you to see and I need you to pull him out when his shoulders come through.” Her voice was little more than a ragged breath and she did bother to hide her hatred of him as she made the request but if she had to concede his presence here, then the least he could do was make himself useful.
He was almost amused when he asked, pushing himself off the wall to approach the foot of the slab so that he could do as he was asked. Her knees were bent and splayed open, the skirt of her dress bunched around hips. What he saw did not make him flinch because blood and flesh exposed was nothing new to him. Someone who was expert as ruining the flesh was incapable of being squeamish. And while it was said, he could have conjured up minions to play the role of midwife more efficiently than him, Saeran was doing this because she had asked. After all, if he intended to keep her, their relationship would be far more palatable if she learned to trust him.
“Alright,” he answered looking at her flushed, red face, “I am hardly the expert but I think that you are ready.”
Eve released a breath that was part exhaustion and part relief. Grateful that she could finally submit to the imperative to push, she remembered the little first aid training she had on the subject and began pushing in earnest, no longer holding her breath. As she pushed, she could feel the intense pressure in her lower body, actually feel her son slipping through her. There was a new pain now, stinging and it made her cry out again, despite her attempts not too. Because Saeran was here now, pride was forcing her to hide her vulnerability as much as she could.
The dark lord watched in hidden wonder as she pushed hard, pain escaping her gritted teeth with each attempt. He could see each attempt sapping her strength and yet like something Promethean, it was restored with each new breath. Through the blood and fluid of her opening womb, he saw something started to appear, slowly but surely. The frightened and vulnerable soul making its way into the world was reaching out, tiny tendrils of need seeking to touch the first thing within reach. Once again, the pure simple innocence of it, touched his mind and it felt…Saeran didn’t know how to describe it.
“I see him,” he announced, realising what he’d been witnessing was the crown of the child's head making an appearance.
Eve’s breathing shortened and she continued to push, driven by forces older than she to reach completion of this most fulfilling act of her person. She pushed again, every little inch her son made towards his birth was a little victory. She did not think about the fact her son's first contact with another person would be a dark lord determined to use him as an instrument of vengeance and her ultimate enslavement. Those were worries for later, once he had arrived into the world.
As she grunted and heaved, Saeran saw the head being pushed out and then the neck. The baby was covered in blood and slick fluid and he leaned forward as he saw small shoulders appearing. Holding on firmly and he marvelled at what a struggle this was, he who had just built the tower in which they were presently occupying. It took as much concentration to hold firm without damaging the tender skin as anything he had done since he’d emerged from his prison in Valinor.
The baby entered the world with eyes wide open.
It was a little thing, all wet with blood and slick mucus, staring at Saeran as the lord of Mordor severed the umbilical cord by pinching it between its fingers and searing the flesh away. Holding the infant in his hands, Saeran knew immediately that the baby was cold and as it moved, shuddering as it took its first breath, the child let out of a plaintive wail.
“Is…is…he alright?” Eve demanded, still pushing, the urge to do so not quite subsiding though it wasn’t as intense as before.
“Yes,” Saeran replied and found his tone subdued, lacking its usual arrogance. The baby cried again, a short, sharp sound that seemed to pierce through his skull. Its small hands were shaking and a dozen sensations bombarded the dark lord at that moment as he looked into the tiny face. Fear. Cold. Confusion. The baby didn’t know how to articulate anything but Saeran understood everything it felt from the intense emotions it projected.
Swaddling the screaming baby in his coat, Saeran held the child and found it so very strange. He could feel something bubbling away inside of him, something he hadn’t ever experienced. Long ago, when Ea was new and he was young, his intentions had been so different. He’d wanted order and felt that he Valar was neglectful, tucked away in their ivory tower. He’d wanted to improve Arda and had struck allegiances to do that. Staring at this child, feeling its purity, reminded him of those days when the path he’d started on was so different from where he was now.
He ran a finger over the tiny cheek and was surprised by the velvet softness of the boy’s skin. At the contact, the child stared at him. The baby had ceased its whimpers and at Saeran’s touch, reached out. Saeran touched the tiny fingers only to have the baby’s small fist furl around one of his own. He held it for a moment, continue to stare at Saeran, blue eyes studying the face in front of him. The emotions that it generated in Saeran was so fierce, he practically ran to Eve and trust her baby at her.
Eve had stopped pushing, the process of delivery complete. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more to rest but first she wanted her baby. She saw Saeran holding her son and wanted to scream at him before reminded of the fact that it was best not to provoke the dark lord whilst he had her child. However, before she could ask Saeran for her son, he spoke first.
“Take him,” Saeran said visibly uncomfortable, “Take your son.”
Eve didn’t notice Saeran’s reaction, concerned only from taking her child. She sat up shakily and took the baby in her arms, shuddering with joy as she saw the perfect bundle that had come to her so much sooner than he should have. Looking at him, she stared to sob but they were not sobs of despair but unbridled joy. Whatever came after, she’d deal with later but for now, she held her son and loved him.
Saeran did not speak, he swept out of the room like an ill wind, slamming the door behind him.
************
In the caverns beneath the tower, approaching with her companions, Fred Bailey smiled.
It was Frank who heard it first.
Lori who was fading in and out of consciousness had missed the odd, skittering noise carried through the excellent acoustics of the honeycomb caverns. As it was, the pilot was hard pressed to be aware of her surroundings at all. Blood loss was causing her to lapse into unconsciousness and he suspected the only reason she was still aware was out of some misguided need to prove that she was above injury, as if surrendering to it would be some sign of weakness.
The sound had also gone unnoticed by the children. Sam and Pip were huddled next to the woman, trying to give her comfort while at the same time, substituting her for the warm that Miranda would have provided if she were here. Sam’s arm was around Pip, holding his brother close so Pip would feel frightened surrounded by the oppressive darkness of the caves.
Frank had been pacing.
Despite telling Miranda to go and leave him behind with the children, he hated not being at her side, knowing that she would almost certainly be facing the Witch King when they reached Saeran’s castle. He'd reason that she'd fight better without having to worry about him and the children and Frank wanted Pip and Sam to nowhere near David Saeran. The odds against Miranda and the others were high with Saeran almost certainly expecting them. There was no element of surprise to be had here. Just the presence of a little girl whose body occupied by something far older than anyone of them.
Frank scanned the cavern they were in with a flashlight and saw nothing yet of the passages beyond their sanctuary. However, it was not just that he was looking for. It didn’t take him long to find what he needed, a fissure in the cave wall, probably from water erosion. It was very big, he’d never fit but two small children could be hidden there with some measure of safety. After what happened to Jason, telling them to run was not an option.
"Sam," Frank motioned his son. "Come here."
Sam's eyes flew open immediately, recognising the tone in the man's voice that indicated that there was something wrong. Since the first meeting with Elladan and Elrohir, he had come to recognise when his father was worried. Getting to his feet, Sam pulled away from Pip who had dozed off. When he reached Frank, his father placed his hand on his shoulder and said quietly. "See that crack, I want you to take Pip and hide in there until I tell you to come out. Okay?”
Sam nodded but he wasn’t about to obey unconditionally, not without a question or two answered first. "Why? What’s wrong dad?"
Frank knew Sam well enough to know lying would only delay the boy's obedience. "Can you hear it?"
Sam started to answer with a blank gaze when suddenly, his brow furrowed and his sharp hearing detected the same noises his father had. “I hear it...” he said raising his eyes to his father, "what is it?"
Frank left Sam's question unanswered, the urgency pressing hard against his spine, as the noises coming from the distant caverns neared them. "Sammy, do it now." He ordered sharply.
The tone left no room for argument and almost made Sam jump. Swallowing thickly, he turned away from his father and hurried over to his sleeping brother to shake Pip awake.
Predictably, Pip woke up with a start, looking about him as if he had to remember that he was in this terrible, dark place instead of his bed back on the pretty island, with elves and mum.
"What is it?" He whined at the worry he saw in Sam's face.
Like his father, Sam didn't answer because if he tried to explain, Pip would only have more questions. "Come on," Sam took his arm and tugged him gently to his feet.
Pip shuffled upright and caught a glimpse of his father tucking the small gun into the top of his trousers and loading the bigger gun that Uncle Bryan had left with him. His heart shrivelled in his tiny chest and he demanded with more anxiety. "What's happening Sammy?"
"You've got to be quiet Pip," Sam held a finger to his lips. "Come on, we've got to go."
Frank spared a glance at Sam and saw him managing his brother, feeling a surge of anguish that his young son had to be a grown up for his little brother. We should have left them in Valinor, he thought. However, he knew that was not an option. Valinor was no safer than anywhere else in the world right now.
Sam led Pip to the crack in the wall that was damp and dusty with cobwebs hanging over the mouth of it. Pip was reluctant to step inside so Sam waved an arm through the dark space, reassuring Pip it was safe. There was barely enough space for both of them to go into together so Sam made sure that Pip went in first. Whatever his dad was afraid of, would have to go through him first to get to Pip, he thought resolutely.
"You both stay in there," Frank stood outside the mouth of it when Sam and Pip had climbed inside. The fit was tight, he could see that Sam barely had enough room to turn his head and nod. However, the squeeze ensured nothing else could reach them either. "Whatever happens, you do not come out until I say it’s safe."
Pip's answer was a soft whimper that prompted Sam to reach for his brother's hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll be okay dad." Sam told his father.
Frank smiled at them and turned away, the flash light returning the crack to its former anonymity ensuring that no one would see it unless they were searching for it or rather he hoped that was the case.
************
Lori awoke when she felt the sudden departure of the warm bodies next to her. She was still groggy from the painkillers he knew that Aaron had administered while he was patching up her leg. However, what remained of her faculties returned to full alertness when she caught the exchange between Frank and his children. The man was getting ready for a fight, she thought and her fingers instinctively tightened around the Glock in her hand. She played possum until he was done, unwilling to intrude on the moment until he'd stepped away from them.
"What's going on Doctor Jones?" She asked quietly.
Frank stopped short and looked down at her. He hadn't expected her to be awake. As it was, he had no idea how to protect. There was no way she would be able to fit in the fissure with Sam and Pip.
"Something's coming," he said grimly.
"What...?" She started to ask and then she became aware of the sound that was growing in tempo throughout the cavern. "What is that?" She forced herself to sit up straighter.
Frank didn't answer but by the expression on his face, she saw that he had suspicions. "Don't leave me in the dark, Doctor Jones. What's coming at us?"
"Keep it down," he hissed. "I'm not sure. I was at an excavation in South America, a few years ago. In an old Incan pyramid. It was full of secret chambers and when we broke into an undisturbed chamber, there was this sound coming out of an old air chute or something. It’s the same as this."
"And...?" She stared at him. "What was causing it?"
Frank told her.
************
Sam could hardly see out of the fissure because it was so dark but when the gunfire started, the muzzle flash lit up the cavern in bursts of light and what Sam saw almost made him scream. He forced himself to remain silent, terrified out of his mind and grateful that Pip couldn't see. Over the sound of gunfire, he told Pip to be quiet because if he could hear his little brother's frightened sobs, what was out there might be able to as well.
They moved so fast it was hard to tell one of them ended and another began. All he could see was a nightmarish vision of too many legs, fat furry bodies and bulbous compound eyes that that gleamed like fat blisters of blood. Sam doubted that he would ever have a good night's sleep ever again. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen the likes of these before but these ones were so much bigger than the ones that Sam saw weaving their webs in the corner of the garden.
Another burst of gunfire and he heard his father calling out for Lori who was somehow on her feet, her back against the wall to use it as a prop as she unleashed a murderous barrage of fire at the creature jumping towards her. Riddling its fat, turgid torso with bullets, black blood splattered across the floor as the creature fell to the ground, its end met with an indignant screech of agony.
Sam had been watching so intently, he hadn't seen the dark shape that suddenly appeared in from of him and Sam found himself staring in terror at a pair of blood red eyes fixed on him. He barely had enough time to pull back as a sharp, spindly leg jabbed at him inside the fissure. Despite his attempts not to, he couldn't hold back the scream that escaped his lips as the great spider discovered the soft, young meat concealed within the crack in the wall.
************
Lori never wanted to face the nightmare of Exeter again but as the spiders swarmed into the cavern at least she knew it would be the last time.
The grogginess she felt earlier was now gone. Adrenaline coursed through her with an awareness she did not wish for but needed nonetheless. With guns in either hand, the rough stone of the cave wall pressed against her back as she propped herself up to fight. Firing in the thick of the swarm, she knew they were honing in on the blood beneath her bandaged leg, the scent whipping them up into a ravenous frenzy. Deafened by the sound of exploding gunshots in such a confined space, Lori knew she would soon be running out of ammunition. Frank had stocked her up as much as he could but their supplies were finite and the others had taken the lion’s share of the arsenal when they had set out for Saeran's fortress. After all, neither she nor Frank had been expected to fight.
Then again, no one had anticipated this.
Fortunately, Frank had given her a warning as to what was going to be invading their sanctuary so Lori had time to brace herself against the horror of it all. Still, when the spiders had spilled into the cavern, crawling over walls, ceilings and across the ground, the effects on her was no less terrifying. They’d open fire almost immediately however, the roar of gunfire did little more than provoke the creatures into a more relentless attack. Fast and agile, they moved effortlessly through the dark with only the gleam of their red eyes to separate one from another. Only numbers in such a confined space gave Lori and Frank any kind of advantage but it was an advantage that was going to come to an abrupt halt when their bullets ran out. Lori almost considered leaving one shell for herself because she wasn’t going to die at the cruel mandibles of one these things.
The thought was abruptly silenced when Sam’s scream penetrated the roar of gunfire.
Whatever composure Frank still had until this point was shattered by that scream. The scream reached inside Frank, dug its fingers into the heart of him where something ancient and primeval lived. It fed on Frank’s memories of holding Sam in his hands for the first time, watching Sam’s first steps, carrying him on his shoulders as they walked across the savannah and every moment since. When Sam screamed, the ferocity of Frank’s reaction was like an exploding sun.
“SAM!” Frank roared and found himself lunging forward, throwing caution to the winds as he made a desperate attempt to reach his son. In all this darkness, he couldn’t even see where he was going, drawn only to the cry coming from the crack in the wall.
“Frank!” Lori shouted as she saw him break from the wall where they’d been fighting toe to toe. “Come back here!” She barked before another encroaching spider took her attention away again. Shit, she cursed as she watched him making a beeline towards his son, unaware that the only thing keeping them alive was the united front that they’d be putting up. Breaking ranks had killed whatever advantage they’d had.
Frank didn’t think, he only knew that his son needed him and that was enough to propel him forward. He had no more taken three steps forwards when a spider leapt at him from the side, he had just enough time to see it coming before he aimed his gun and fired. Bullets tore the creature apart but the distraction was enough to allow another spider to come at him, this time, front the front. Frank swung his gun around to shoot but the spider was upon him before he could get a chance to fire.
Lori watched in horror, unable to do anything to help as she saw the creature land heavily on Frank, driving him backwards so that he fell against the ground, landing hard on his back. As it was, the spiders were closing in on her and her count of rounds told her that she would have to reload with her last clip. Suddenly the reminder to save one bullet for herself did not seem as outrageous as she initially thought.
With snapping mandibles dripping with ooze inches from his face, Frank was locked in a life and death struggle with the spider on top of him. He could see others closing in, preparing to tear him apart and Frank knew he was about to die. The machine gun was all that was standing between him and the spider’s jaws in front of him and he wasn’t strong enough to shove the thing off him. Panic setting in, Frank’s struggles became harder but as he saw something moving over him, he knew he was done.
Except he was wrong.
The moment was suddenly punctuated by a loud pop that didn’t quite sound like a bullet.
Frank jumped at the sound before a sharp and silvery object rushed by his peripheral vision to impale the spider on top of him through the upper thorax. The spider uttered an eerie cry before reeling on its back legs in agony while its other limbs convulsed frantically. It took Frank a second or two to register what had happened after it rolled off him and crumpled to the ground on its back. The creature spasmed a final time before its limbs folded tightly against its body like a fist clenching and then moved no more.
"Keep your head down Edain!" Frank heard someone shout and Frank stayed down, recognising that the words were spoken with an odd accent that was not elvish. Who was out there?
There was no time to ponder the question as he heard more of those odd discharges that sounded like escaping gas, followed by spidery screeches of agony. One by one, he saw the creatures being felled, their furry, dark limbs twitching in the prelude to death, their bodies tumbling to the ground.
"There's another one!" He heard someone shout. "Get hit him Magrin!"
This was followed by the whirling of what Frank glimpsed to be an axe. A large double bladed axe that spun in the air and caught the dim light of a torch before embedding itself into the abdomen of the spider that had been trying to carve Sam and Pip out of their hiding place. The spider writhed in pain before falling away from the wall dead, much to Frank's relief. As he regained his composure, Frank got to his feet so he could get a look at their rescuers.
The cavern had flooded with light coming from gas lamps of type that Frank had never seen before. They were ornate with designs that looked oddly familiar, though he couldn't say why at the time. Lori had slid to the base of the wall she had been standing against, as if the arrival of the new players to the sage, gave her permission to rest. She met his gaze in astonishment, as if he could explain what they were seeing.
The new arrivals wasted no time finishing off the spiders. They moved fast and efficiently, wielding weapons that were a mix of ancient and new. The bolt of silver that had saved him had come from a weapon that resembled a Gatling gun, with a multiple rotating barrels that fired spikes instead of bullets.
With equalizing efficiency, the weapon allowed the spiders to be cut down with ruthless efficiency. However axes were also employed and these weren’t the intricately crafted things he’d seen fashioned by the elves. They closely resembled some of the battle axes of medieval times with ornate designs on the blade that made them look almost beautiful.
While their weapons might have been suspect, Frank recognised those wielding them immediately.
They were dwarves.
************
If anyone were to raise their eyes to the sky this day, they would have seen a sight that they’d likely never forget for the rest of their days.
They would have seen, sharing the same space above the clouds, the masters of the sky as they flew across the land to wage the battle to end all battles against the dark forces that had returned to Arda. Flying in concert with sleek, fighter jets that moved so fast across the sky, that only the trail of white smoke could be seen in their wake, were eagles so magnificent, the world had its breath at their passing.
Sharing in this incredible flight, Ariel finally understood what it was like to be Melia the Ranger.
Over the centuries she had cause to ponder the question in secret, whether or not her fëa or soul as the humans called it, really belonged to a human first before it had come to her. Truth be told, she felt nothing that spoke to a connection with Melia just the word of a husband who claimed he could not have loved her otherwise. Sometimes she feared that the happiest she had been were the days before she was told she carried Melia’s soul inside her. At least then, she was aware of her own self and not seeking out the reflection of a woman she could not see.
Sometimes she wondered how simple her life would be if not for Melia. She would have had children, shared her life with a man who did not see her as the ghost of his former great love, who did not expect her to live up to a memory because she was so clearly not the perfection reflection he’d expected her to be. It saddened and frustrated Ariel because she loved Legolas and him to be her soul mate but knew it would not be the same for him, he had not believed she was Melia incarnate.
However now that she had stepped out of Valinor’s protection to fight alongside her kinsman, she felt stirrings of the woman who lived through similar times and wondered if there was a little of Melia in her after all. Was this what it was like to be that ranger? To travel to distant lands when the world was filled with such darkness that the only choice was to pick a side or be destroyed? An overwhelming feeling of fear and responsibility came over her that had to be endured because the world was ablaze and there was nothing left but to do but fight and extinguish the fire of evil for all time.
As she clutched the feathers of the great eagle upon which she was borne, Ariel realised that now more than ever, she felt closer to Melia. Tragically, it was Legolas to whom she wished to tell and he was not here.
Ariel gazed down at the expanse of land below her and saw the chaos and destruction that followed Sauron’s army. They marched across the lands that were once part of the Reunified Kingdom, denizens of the Forbidden Vault for whom freedom was the panacea for centuries of pent up frustration and hunger. They moved across Arda like a scourge, burning and destroying anything in their path while at the same time, gathering other dark forces that had been lying in wait for centuries, until their had come.
The Uruk-hai bred in secret beneath the lands of Germany had been unleashed by the Nine and emerged in their thousands, quick to add their number to the armies of the Forbidden Vault as they raced to join their master in his ancient stronghold. Elsewhere, the drakes had come down from the north and were also conducting themselves with similar violence, turning cities and its people into sculptures of ice and death.
Fortunately, the result of this widespread destruction and fear was one Ariel was convinced Sauron hadn’t intended. The dark lord had undoubtedly wanted to spread fear and intimidation across the globe, to keep the race of man off balance by the sudden appearance of creatures they had no knowledge or ability to fight. His great strategy had been to keep them distracted while he set about his true plan, to frighten the Edain into using their most terrible weapons against him and inadvertently destroying themselves in the process. Instead, his actions had only served to unite them.
Even before the eagles had come, the authorities of England had chosen to ally themselves with the elves that had come to London in their grey ships. With the endorsement of Imrahil and Theoden’s incarnations, those in power realised that there was a greater threat spreading across the land requiring a suspension of disbelief. The men of Arda had no memory of Sauron and his dark forces but the danger they were seeing could not be denied and they submitted to the urgency of the situation after the ruin of Paris. The politics of recognising the elves as a sovereign nation would have to wait until after the crisis was over. For now, they needed each other to save Arda.
And once again, an alliance of man and elf would pursue the armies of Sauron to Mordor.
************
If the elves had remained unchanged in Valinor for a hundred thousand years, then the same could not be said of the dwarves.
When Frank had first learned of their existence from the stories of Middle Earth, he'd become fascinated by them because unlike the elves, the dwarves had remained in Arda. As an archaeologist who was versed in the history of mankind from his supposed beginnings to the current age, the absence of the dwarves from the historical stage was a mystery that demanded resolution. If they had shared Arda with men, then what had become of them? Surely a race as developed as the dwarves could not simply have vanished? There should have been some traces of them in the historical record beyond vague fairy tales and myths.
And yet now, he found himself standing in front of a group of dwarves, with so many questions in his head, he did not know where to start.
“Hullo there!” The leader of them came up to Frank and slapped him on the shoulder in greeting. “Are you alright? You look a little out of sorts. You’re not hurt are you?”
He was the tallest of the five dwarves that stood in front of Frank. With a helmet on his head that looked curiously similar to those worn by German aviators during World War I, the goggles were pushed up along his forehead. He wore a thick, well trimmed beard and clothes that were fashioned from leather and thick, wool fabrics. Unlike the dwarves, the fashion of these dwarves was not medieval. In fact, if Frank had to put a name to the design, he would have actually called it Victorian. There was an almost steam punk quality to their clothing.
They were all dressed in similar fashion, leather and heavy fabrics, with long coats and cloaks covering tunics and trousers, not to mention heavy boots that were made for walking. Their headgear was an assortment of helmets, some resembling the aviator type worn by their leaders and others wore more traditional dwarf helmets which made for an interesting contrast in period.
Their weapons were a similar amalgamation of past and present. While some carried beautifully finished axes whose handles and blades bore ornate designs, others carried weapons that looked like the gun Franks seen used on many of the spiders now lying dead on the ground. It was clear that the dwarves, wherever they had been since the Third Age, had changed with the times and even developed more sophisticated weaponry to over the ages.
“No...” Frank found his voice, “how are you here?”
The dwarves looked at each other and laughed.
“Oh this poor boy’s had a tough time by the looks of him,” the leader declared to his companions before turning back to Frank. “Its a long story and we can talk on the way. I’m Barra, that there is Finnan, Gwere, Baldor, and Magrin. We need to get a move on if we’re going to join the others.”
When help had come, Lori had taken the opportunity to catch her breath and recoup her strength. Despite their assistance with the spiders, she had no idea whether these new arrivals were friend or foe and now that she had recovered somewhat, stood up shakily, using the wall behind her as a prop to make herself heard.
“Who the hell are these guys?” She demanded since it appeared Frank had some idea who they were.
Six heads turned to her and started chattering excitedly.
"Is that one of their women?"
"She's hurt!"
"Where's her beard?"
"Settle down!" Barra barked at them and then looked at Lori. “Hullo Miss, we don’t mean to frighten you. We’re dwarves and we’re on our way to fight the dark lord. We know he’s been making a right mess of your world and we’ve come to help.”
Lori stared at Frank in bewilderment. “Dwarves? There are dwarves now?”
“They’re allies,” Frank said quickly, trying to calm her down, aware that this might have been too much for her to take. In the last few days, her entire world had been turned upside down with dragons, dark lords, elves, giant spiders and now it appeared dwarves. He could understand if she reached the limits of her belief. “Look they’re here to help and we need all we can get. I’m sorry,” Frank turned his attention to Barra. “This is all a little overwhelming.”
“No kidding,” Lori grumbled as the other dwarves converged on her, gaping at her with a mixture of curiosity and concern.
“I suppose it is a bit of a surprise,” the one called Magrin replied. “We've been keeping an eye on you lot above for centuries now, since the Awakening."
He was wide in girth, with unruly blond hair and cheeks that were barely concealed by his beard. He wore a traditional helmet with wings on either side. Kind of like Thor, Frank thought to himself.
“The Awakening?” Frank stared at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“We’ve been asleep for a long time and three hundred years ago, we woke up,” Magrin explained. “Aule told us that we had to sleep until we were needed. When we woke up, we knew something terrible was coming back to the world and we’ve been preparing for it ever since.”
“You guys have been around for three hundred years?” Lori asked as she saw two of them closing in on her and eyed them suspiciously. “Why haven’t we seen you?”
“Because we didn’t want to be seen,” Barra retorted as if he were talking to a child. “We come up sometimes, make a little trade and disappear. Your lot hardly notice and we only get what we need."
“Is that how you can speak English?” Frank asked.
“Oh yes,” a younger dwarf who was quite svelte in comparison to the others, paused and looked over his shoulder away from Lori. “We like your music and your television. It took us awhile to learn how it all worked but eventually we got it going.”
Frank had to admit that the dwarves moving about in the modern world would not raise as much suspicion as elves. After all, they looked as if they knew how to assimilate and there were such things as dwarves among humans. No one would be able to tell the difference if actual dwarves were to walk among them.
“Hello,” the young dwarf named Baldur said approaching Lori. “That leg of yours doesn’t look very good. It will need dressing before we can go on.”
Before Lori could respond, a sudden cry tore shrilly through the cavern.
"DAD!"
Frank spun around to see his son practically fall out of the fissure in his eagerness to escape it. Frank had been so busy talking to the dwarves, he’d forgotten about Sam and Pip still hiding in the crack. Sam emerged from his hiding place, still looking pale with fright after taking the brunt of the spider’s attempts to reach him and his brother. He leapt into his father’s arms and clung to Frank tight, burying his face in his father’s shoulder.
"Hey its okay,” Frank ran a comforting hand over his head, wishing Miranda was here because there was some hurts that only a mother could soothe. Hearing his tears told Frank just how frightened Sam had been because Sam always tried to be strong for his younger brother. Frank hated to see Sam that afraid. "We're alright Sammy,” Frank whispered gently in his ear.
Meanwhile Barra had stepped forward to greet Pip who had climbed out after Sam. Sam’s body had kept him from seeing the spiders and because of that, he wasn’t as shaken as his brother.
"Hullo there," Barra greeted Pip. "My name is Barra. What's yours?"
Pip's eyes widened at the sight of the dwarves. "I’m Pip,” he said with wonder and then asked, “Are you a dwarf?"
"Yes I am,” Barra grinned. “Now come along lad. We’ve got to get going. Lots to do today.”
"We'll have to carry this one," Gwere declared as he joined Baldur near Lori. The other dwarves were standing around the wounded female, staring at her in curiosity as well as amusement. "She's a bit feisty even if she's hurt."
"Nobody's carrying me anywhere!" Lori snapped, waving her gun at the dwarves surrounding her. “I can damn well walk.”
“No you can’t,” Baldor insisted. “Your leg’s no good. You’ll slow us down or die in the process.”
Lori was about to protest when Frank spoke up, “Lori, you know they’re right. We’ve had this conversation already.”
Damn, Lori cursed under her breath. She knew he was right but she hadn’t wanted to admit it and they did have this same argument when Eric and the others had left for the fortress.
“Alright then, Barra spoke up, sensing victory. “We’ll take the lady back to the Worm. The children too. Then we'll continue to the fortress.”
Frank stared at Barra, “the Worm?”
Barra’s answer was a grin.
************
FRANCIS E WARREN AIR FORCE BASE
CHEYENNE, WYOMING
He knew he didn’t have long.
The instant Colonel Latimer realised that he wasn’t driving up to main building, they would be searching for him. While they might not suspected the level of danger he represented yet, they would nevertheless begin asking questions, perhaps even putting in a call to the Pentagon. Dennis knew the window of opportunity he had to act was narrowing and so he drove to a non-descript building at the far end of the complex that was barely mentioned in the maps or guides. The only place that its existence was acknowledged at all was in classified documents stored at the Pentagon.
Despite its anonymity, it was nonetheless the most secured building in the entire base.
Guards were not posted outside its main doors. That would have been too obvious. Instead, its importance was given away by the number of security cameras that were deployed around the structure and the bars around the windows. There was no way anyone could approach the building without first being seen and Dennis wanted to avoid provoking a lockdown if necessary. However, he had no doubt that his every step was carefully monitored as he climbed out of the car and approach the front doors. At the moment, his rank afforded him some measure of access but that would not last for long.
As he approached the doors, he saw the security cameras following him with scrutiny until he stepped through. Once inside, the guards that he expected to see where standing at the entrance to short corridor that ended with a plain wooden door. They stood near a security station where an African-American lieutenant had been monitoring the numerous security displays until the arrival of a General had prompted him to his feet to offer a snappy salute. Despite this however, Dennis noticed the two Marines had their hands on their respective sidearm, watching him closely.
“General,” the lieutenant greeted, stepping out from behind the station, his expression a mixture of caution and puzzlement. “Isn’t Colonel Latimer expecting you Sir?” He asked, remarkably able to ask the question without any hint of suspicion.
"I wasn't under the impression that a general had to explain anything to a lieutenant or a colonel for that matter." Dennis retorted smoothly.
The young man was unfazed however by the rebuke. He knew his job well and there were protocols that had to be followed, without exception. Even for the top brass. To his credit, Dennis thought the young man maintained an air of diplomacy as he tried to navigate the situation. "General, I apologise if this sounds like insubordination but you know as well as I do that this area is restricted to everyone except authorized personnel. Anything else would require official notification from Colonel Latimer first. He hasn’t cleared you to be here.”
Dennis was coming to the conclusion that he needed more direct action when suddenly; something shrill tore through his ears. It felt like a scream in his mind and for a few seconds, he was disorientated as he clutched his ears to block it out. He let out a cry of pain, staggered in reaction before he realised that however badly this strange phenomena was affecting him, it was nowhere as terrible as what was happening to the others in the room with him. The sound died but as the silence fell he saw something else. A swirling mist of black had appeared and was moving of its own accord through the trio, insidiously coiling around their legs, snaking up their bodies and entering their noses and mouths.
He blinked, trying to understand what it was he was seeing but he could not comprehend until he saw them double over in pain as they tried to scream their soundless cries of agony. They clutched their stomachs as they writhed against the floor, gripped by some nameless terror he could explain. For the first time, he felt panic at what was happening, not only with these men but also in what he planned to do. Suddenly, he began to realise that what was happening in Europe may already be on American soil.
He actually began to reconsider what he was about to do when suddenly, the voice that had driven him here so far, chose to speak again and with far more clarity than before.
Go, the way is clear for you now.
Like the scream a moment ago, this wasn’t something he was hearing with his ears. No, it was a voice inside his mind, not a stray random thought or subconscious desire. What was speaking to him had a will of its own, he could feel its power and the command it held over him. Looking around the room with new eyes, he no longer saw the three soldiers completely incapacitated by forces they did not understand. Instead, he sought out the guardian angel that was helping him save his country and everything he had sworn to protect all his life.
While Dennis could not see his angel, he felt it nonetheless and with this realisation that he was being guided by a higher power, all the doubts that surfaced briefly a moment ago were now silenced again. He had never been a religious man. As a soldier, God could either strengthen or cripple a man in the field. For it him, it was the latter. However at this moment, he believed. Only God could be responsible for this deliverance. Only God could intervene to put a halt to the supernatural horrors that were now plaguing the Earth and in doing so had sent him a guardian angel to help him in his cause by clearing the path of all obstacles.
It was almost symmetry in its perfection.
Dennis no longer heard the sirens he could hear distantly or the voices barking orders at each other beyond the walls of the building. With a sense of calm, he walked down the corridor, this time, his sidearm exposed, the safety flicked off in readiness to clear his way of anyone or anything in his way. The nature of this building ensured that there was always a minimal complement of men guarding the place. Any more might raise attention and that was precisely what the authorities did not want.
Khamul and Dwaw continued to follow the human in stealth, unaware that he'd deemed them agents of the creator, though they would have found it amusing if they’d known. The incarnate of Denethor had seen their power but not questioned it which was fortunate since it an unnecessary complication so close to their goal. The man had done exactly what they needed him to do; bring them to this place where they could unleash the full force of the mankind’s paranoia and destructive ability upon themselves.
The perfect end to weak race that had no right to claim Arda for their own.
Leaving the main hall behind him, he continued down the corridor, his eyes fixed on the simple wooden door at the end of it. When he was half way there, someone stepped through the door of an adjoining room which turned out to be the men's room. A janitor, wearing a grey maintenance uniform, with hunched shoulders and a thick white moustache, stared with Dennis in shock and puzzlement as he carried his bucket full of cleaning bottles and brushes.
"Uh..hello." he greeted dumbfounded and then noticed the weapon in the General's hand.
"Get out of here,” Dennis ordered simply, gesturing to the main doors with a quick glance to tell the man his window of escape was narrowing and he'd better not waste it. Dennis' hand tightened around the gun to emphasize his point.
The old man did not argue and hurried past, pausing only to gape at the bodies on the floor before continuing his hasty exist out of the building.
There was no reason to kill the him, Dennis decided. He was an instrument of God and he would not kill the innocent if it could be avoided. Besides, he thought as he reached the end of the hall, at this point there was very little the old man could do to change was going to happen.
The wooden door was just a simple door. A twist of the knob and it swung open. What it then revealed was a set of blast doors. Four inches thick, computer controlled, it led to an elevator that descended down a shaft 30 feet below the building to the launch control centre. Everything else had lacked sophistication but the electronic panel that activated opened the blast doors was state of the art. Dennis slid in the master key he had 'liberated' from the Pentagon and waited for the panel to issue its next command in its feminine monotone.
"Voice recognition pattern and retina scan required."
Dennis stepped up and spoke clearly into mouthpiece. "Etherton, Dennis James. Rank General. Serial No. O-9109904."
"Voice pattern recognised. Proceed to retina scan."
Raising his chin to the scanner, he stared straight ahead as the light probe ran over his open eye.
"Retina scan confirmed."
Everything he had done had been because of this verification. As far as the system was concerned, he was still an upstanding member of the Joint Chiefs. His accesses and permissions had yet to be rescinded. All that would change the instant Colonel Latimer put a call in to the Pentagon and learned that he was not only here without authorisation but that his clearance level gave him access to launch codes that were only available to the Secretary of Defence and the President in he event of war. Of course they’d be able to remove his access quickly enough but not in time to keep him from doing what he had to.
The blast doors slid open without fanfare after his permissions had been confirmed. He stepped into the elevator car that was constructed with double layers of titanium and reached for the button that would take him to its only destination. He paused a moment and swept his gaze from left to the right, trying to decide if his guardian angel was still with him, trying to sense its presence but he felt nothing.
The voices he could hear barking orders outside the building were drawing closer and now accompanied by pounding footsteps that echoed down the hall. Pushing the button that would take him down, he leaned back against the far wall of the elevator and watched the soldiers running towards him. They were desperately trying to outrun the pace of the sliding doors but failed to reach it before he was sealed inside.
They were too late and he was on his way to meet his destiny.
************
It was a sight that Glorfindel never wanted to see.
Covered in ash and dirt, he took a moment as he stood at the edge of the glade that gave him a view of the destruction before him. It was disheartening enough that Mount Taniquetil had vanished from their sight, sent through the insidious devices of Sauron to that other realm where Valinor had existed peacefully for so long. However, the sight of the great tower of Mindon Eldaliéva ablaze, its grand edifice cracking under the heat, was like an arrow to the heart. The lantern that had brought Eärendil from across the sea was consumed by the flame of the balrogs Sauron had unleashed upon them.
The great city of Tirion, the home of the Noldor, was in ruins. Its tall spires, the tallest of each was the tower, pierced the skies like jagged teeth that had been broken in battle. The white marble of which much of the city was constructed was black with soot and what had escaped the flame instead lay across the once pristine sand in piles of shattered stone and rubble. The balrogs had not simply set out to kill elves and destroy their city, each cruel lash of fire sought to carve out a little more of their spirit.
Glorfindel stared at the wreckage of Tirion until he could not bear to look and he turned away from scene, hiding his despair as he faced those who had fought bravely at his sight from the beginning of this calamity. As his gaze moved across their rag tag encampment, he saw that he was not alone in his disconsolate state. His comrades were similarly afflicted. Many were still in shock from the loss of friends and family. Existence in Valinor had made them forget what it was like to watch loved ones perish through violence. After so many ages without knowing death, its sudden return was taking its toll upon their spirit.
Yet despite their despair, they had united and faced the enemy with courage. They were from every family of elf, Vanyar, Silvan, Noldor and Sindar, choosing to remain behind and defend their lands against the enemy, holding the line while others were able to escape to safety. What remained of Teleri ships that had not been stolen by Sauron or used by Elrond had been used to ferry the rest of the elves to the far side of the island where the evil had not reached. Tirion was no longer safe for anyone until Sauron was defeated once and for all.
Once long ago, Glorfindel had crossed the sea to fight in Arda but this time, he refused to abandon his home and was prepared to defend it to death. They'd fought the balrogs for more days and night then he could count but as many as they had felled, they had also lost. Amongst the ruin debris of Tirion, there were also bodies buried under the broken marble. Their strategy had been to attack at night for the enemy were more easily seen. Creatures of shadow and flame were harder to hide in the darkness and their pyrrhic had only been achieved by surprise attacks.
"My lord."
Glorfindel heard the greeting of a familiar approaching him and offered a nod of acknowledgement to the younger Silvan elf who had fought tirelessly at his side through all this madness. "Are they rested?” He asked. “They are hiding in the tower. They are trying to draw us in, knowing that we cannot offer as strong and offensive if we are in close quarters. We must draw them out, its the only place they are truly vulnerable.”
“Yes,” Haldir nodded. “I believe you are right. Lord Celeborn sends the message that we are ready to move at dusk.”
“Good,” Glorfindel nodded, retrieving the sword that had lay against log near where he was standing. “We have much work to do....”
His words were cut short by a sudden outcry in the camp.
Both Glorfindel and Haldir turned sharply to the collection of campfires that lit the forest they had taken refuge in. The cry became a rising crescendo of anxious voices as Glorfindel took up his sword, gripped with the thought that the balrogs had changed their practice of attack and had tried to catch them by surprise for a change. Thus far, the creatures had been satisfied with razing elven cities and had not pursued them beyond Tirion. As he hurried away from the glade, he was joined by Haldir who had also unsheathed his sword and keeping pace with him as they returned to their comrades.
However, they arrived at the cusp of a blinding white light in the middle of the encampment that eclipsed all the campfires. This was not the glow of shadow and flame, Glorfindel realised because as excited as the voices where, it was devoid of the fear and urgency that would have been present if it were a balrog rampaging through their camp. No one was fleeing, no was panicking. No, whatever had caused this sudden flash of brilliance, it had gone as quickly as it appear and the evening settled into its former state of descending twilight. Glorfindel did not however discount that Sauron, with his new found power, hadn’t found some way to visit upon them a new horror, one who artifices were unlike the devastating brutality and efficiency than the balrogs.
Instead when he joined the others, he and Haldir had to fight through a crowd that seemed contented to hold their place, gawking at something or someone who had taken up position in the middle of their encampment. He realised as he walked past his kinsmen that their expressions was not of panic and fear and all but more akin to wonder and shock. He hoped against hope that perhaps the spell that had trapped the Valar had been released and they had made themselves known. However as he pushed his way to the front, he found that the elves were not staring at the Valar but a large group of warriors who had suddenly appeared before them.
When Glorfindel laid his eyes upon them, he stopped in his tracks, the blade in his hand dropping limply to his side. Eyes widening in astonishment, he saw that their armour was untarnished by days of battle as his and his comrades had been. The standard of their shields, their armours, gleamed in the diminishing light of the day. He suspected that they were only a handful among them who would recognise the warriors before the. His eyes fixed on their leader and there was doubt he was their leader.
Even if it was not in his countenance or the way the others seemed to stand in his presence. The raven dark hair and the piercing eyes whose intensity could bore into Melkor himself, Glorfindel’s first impulse upon seeing him was to drop to his knees and offer fealty, to give him command of this war and ask him to lead them to reclaim Tirion and then Valinor.
Glorfindel approached him with head bowed in respect, recognising the blade clutched by the new arrival. The blade that was one of eight, that had no name despite its owner’s legend, crafted in the Secret Forge. In a moment, Glorfindel remembered the dark when the treachery of Morgoth had been uncovered and the chaos that had been caused after he and Ungoliant fled across the Helcaraxë. He remembered the Oath made by a son whose rage who would tear the elven world apart and cause a war which would turn the Eldar against each other. The son who stood before him now, larger than life, the greatest of them all and perhaps the most tragic.
Feanor.
“How are you here Feanor?”
Feanor’s eyes flashed and where once there had been nothing but madness and rage, there was humility and temperance of spirit. “I do not know,” he whispered. “We were in the halls of Mandos, all of us.” He gazed at the warriors with him and Glorfindel stared at their faces and recognised them too. They were the sons of Feanor. Maedhros the Tall, Celegorm the Fair, Caranthir the Dark, the twins Amrod and Amras, all were there save Maglor whose fate no one knew. “And suddenly we were here.”
“I do not understand, nor do I care. We have need of you Feanor, we have need of your strength. Valinor is under siege and Morgoth’s servants has taken Arda. If you are here then it is truly the End of Days.”
“But not as it should have been,” Feanor declared. “The prophecy of Dagor Dagorath has changed. It is not transpiring as it should be.”
Glorfindel agreed. “Yes, it should be Morgoth who is here but it is not. It is his servant Sauron. I do not know how but he has usurped Morgoth’s power for his own and rewritten the prophecy.”
“Sauron...” Feanor mused, recalling the maiar lieutenant who seemed far more capable of strategy than Morgoth had been during their war. “I remember.”
“But you are here now,” Glorfindel spoke with great relief, feeling his own spirit rekindle in the presence of the Finwe’s son. “We need your help Feanor. Tirion is besieged with balrogs and other fell creatures released from the Forbidden Vaults. ”
Feanor straightened up, dispelling thoughts of the past that did not serve him in the present. He had been in his time many things, teacher, craftsman, king and warrior. The latter was never equal to the former but to his dismay, it was always what he was almost most remembered. Time was a great teacher and through the centuries, he had much time to consider his actions in life. The oath that he had made, that brought such utter ruin to his entire line, perhaps to the world even and the ages spent in Mandos, had forced him to look into himself. He had more than one occasion to wonder if Morgoth’s worst sin was stealing the simarils and killing Finwe or wounding Feanor’s pride.
His inability to decide was in itself an answer.
“I am at your service,” he said quietly. “Like you, I have accounts to settle with the balrogs of Morgoth.”
Glorfindel didn’t not doubt that.
************
Frank Miller had seen a lot of odd things since two elves decided to knock on his door one evening.
He had fought creatures beyond comprehension, travelled to a magical realm of elves and learned that the world was far more complex than he’d ever imagined and everything he knew about his craft was in essence wrong. He’d accepted this with the mind of a scholar, always willing to learn because knowledge was a path to enlightenment. However, as he carried one son in his arms while holding the hand of another, he had to confess he never imagined he’d be marching through the caverns, led by six dwarves about to face off a dark lord in his fortress.
It was all very Snow White.
Leaving the cavern behind, they took the path that the spiders had used to launch their arachnid attack and Frank followed these dwarves, listening to them speak and realising that the race was far more aware of men than the latter had been of their existence. Once again, Frank felt embarrassed for modern man, who went stomping through the world, without actually seeing what was going on in it. Dwarves had been living right under their noses for as long as history had been recorded and mankind had never even seen it. They never gave dwarves any more thought than the fact that such individuals were the result of genetic deformity or it was possible to shoot them out of cannons to great effect.
After the disintegration of the Reunified Kingdom and the descent of man into a dark age, the dwarves had decided to retreat entirely from their affairs. From their mountain stronghold, they continued to mine the earth and build new cities in the deep places of the world where none had been since the First Age. As man begin to grow in number and the memory of the all that came before dark time faded, the dwarves as a whole decided to abandon their mountain domains and retreat to these underground cities.
Not long after this, the Valar Aule came to the dwarves and told that their time was past. When the world was remade, they would have a place in it but until then he would put them into a deep slumber, where they would wait out the ages in peaceful sleep until their time came again. He would waken them when Eru returned and created the song of the Second Great Music.
Their awakening came a scant three centuries earlier than the present day. Aule had roused them in secret with the revelation that evil had returned to the world of men and that preparations needed to begin for the coming of Dagor Dagorath. Thus they emerged into the realm of men once more but their tentative reconnaissance revealed that Arda was changed beyond all recognition. Furthermore, man had invaded every corner of it while slaughtering each other in wars propelled by greed and conquest that made Sauron’s efforts seem tame in comparison. Even worse, they had no memory of Middle Earth or any of the races that had lived there.
It became evidently clear that for the moment, they would keep their presence a secret. Mankind was not yet ready to receive them.
Meanwhile, they continued their preparations until the day Aule’s voice no longer spoke to them and the Forbidden Vaults were flung open to unleash every dark creature that had been trapped behind its doors. As Sauron returned to Arda bringing with him his dark army, every creature still hidden in the forgotten places of the world stirred to answer their master’s call to arms. With the rising chaos that was sweeping across the globe, the dwarves had mobilized quickly, aware that Sauron would wage his final battle in his former kingdom, whatever its name now.
Barra and his group of dwarves were an advance scouting party, the first of many that would soon follow.
************
Despite her complaints, Lori had settled down and allowed herself to be carried by four of the dwarves who were surprisingly strong. Frank suspected that much of her protests had more to do with her feminist pride then the inconvenience but the dwarves, particularly Baldor was surprisingly charming and they brushed her whining aside with good humour.
“Where are we going dad?” Sam asked, almost back to his old self now as he walked alongside his father.
“Somewhere safe,” he lied because he knew they almost certainly heading towards Saeran’s fortress after a short detour at what Barra had called the ‘Worm’.
Excellent acoustics in the cavern allowed Barra to hear the question and the dwarf with his loud, booming baritone voice replied, “We’re going to get to Sauron’s fortress on foot as we got closer but it wouldn’t be right taking wee ones like on such a perilous journey. Then again, we can’t leave you alone either can we?”
“Right tasty morsels you are for them I’d say,” Magrin, who appeared older than Barra with his greying beard that was braided around his face and looked like a Viking with his horned helmet, declared gruffly. “You should be home with your mother, the pair of you.”
Frank rolled his eyes and retorted, “well you haven’t met his mother yet and I’m more afraid of her than I am of spiders.”
The remark produced a burst of laughter from all the dwarves including his sons and the subject was tabled once for all. Not that Frank didn’t disagree, this was not a safe place for either child but the truth was, they’d have tried sending Sam and Pip to safety and that had ended tragically. Poor Jason, Frank thought, taking a moment to grieve the young Kiwi who had given his life for his children.
“We’re here!” Barra announced as they passed through the threshold from another narrow tunnel into a large cavern. There was light coming from the cavern, Frank thought, wondering what was generating it. There was a steadiness to the radiance that was unlike the flickering dance of flames from their torches.
When he stepped into the cavern, he realised he had underestimated his assessment of how far the dwarves had evolved since their awakening three centuries ago.
The ‘Worm’ was roughly the size of a school bus. Its outer hull was black steel, with a flawless machine finish. Frank could barely see the joins. There were port holes running along one side and he supposed it was the same on the other side as well. Exhaust ports behind and beneath the craft was the only indication of the engine he could not see. The scientist in him longed to ask them what kind of power source it used.
Mounted on the nose of the craft was a corkscrew drill that Frank knew just by looking at it, was made of mithril. It was harder than any substance in the world and if the Worm was subterranean drilling vehicle, which Frank was certain it was; then it could cut through rock, stone and maybe iron with ease. It resembled something that Jules Verne might have conjured up in his writings but Frank knew without a doubt that this was far more superior.
“This is the Worm?” He looked at Barra.
“One of them yes,” Barra nodded with pride. “We have hundred of these and right now, they’re all on their way here.”
The child was oddly enchanting.
David Saeran gazed down at the tiny face, wrinkled and pink, in his arms. The bow shaped mouth pursed and Saeran was momentarily puzzled at what the child was trying to say since the emotions he was sensing was confusing to say the least. The small hand extended outward again and almost hesitantly, Saeran allowed the small digit to curl around his own finger. The action seemed to please the infant and the pursing lips almost curled like a smile.
More articulate than orcs at least, Searan decided.
At present, the child’s mother was asleep. Exhaustion from the ordeal of birth had finally overcome Eve and after feeding the babe, she lapsed into slumber with the infant in her embrace. Seemingly content, Saeran was able to feel the child’s emotions now that he had made the connection between them. While he wouldn’t say the boy called to him, he could sense the child’s want for attention. Fortunately, Eve’s slumbering state had allowed him to take the baby from her without protest.
Even though he knew he could take the baby anytime he wished, he had no desire to hear her hysterical bleating in the effort. Especially when it was easier to exercise some patience and take the child when she was in no position to complain. While his understanding of Edain babies was limited, he was aware they required a great deal of attention and it would be a mother’s stead to attend most of this. He was also aware that his fortress was ill equipped to deal with an infant and there was a streak of wicked mischief in him that would have relished sending Morgul to a local supermarket for disposable diapers.
The infant’s mind was so filled with raw emotion and half formed thoughts that Saeran’s prescience was able to receive all of it. Thus he now stood with the boy in his arms, at the highest tower in his fortress, surveying the work taking place in his reclaimed kingdom. As he did so, he found himself speaking out loud thoughts he’d never confess to anyone except the child. It did not understand good or evil, had not been tainted by ideas of morality and duty and at this point was the most impartial judge there was. Even dark lords had depths.
“It was never meant to be this way, you know? I never wanted chaos,” Saeran explained to the baby who understood nothing but offered his undivided attention.
His blue eyes stared at the dark lord with curiosity and Saeran knew with confidence that it was the emotion the child would understand, not the words. For one who had taken none into his confidence since the beginning of the world, it was enough.
“I believed in Eru’s song,” Saeran continued, “in the chords of the great music that created the world.” He looked up at the sky and sighed with longing. “No creature alive, save the Valar can imagine what it was like to be there when the music was created. To hear each chord coming together and to be one of those chords. To know that it would change everything and had the power to give shape to the emptiness of the void.”
And for an instant he was there, his memories hurtling him back to the Timeless Halls and briefly his heart swelled with the simple joy of being apart of it all. It seemed so far removed from where he was now, sometimes he wondered how he could have thrown it all away and did Eru always know that it was in him to become Melkor’s servant?
The sadness permeated his dark soul with far more effect than he cared to admit before he resumed speaking. “It was all ruined of course with Melkor and his grandstanding. He wanted his own chord to eclipse the choir and because of that, the music was corrupted. It lost its perfection and symmetry. That’s how evil was born. Not because an angel got thrown out of heaven or a woman convinced an idiot to take a bite out of an apple. It was caused by the music being corrupted by just one off chord. Sort of like ‘Let it Be’ in the 3rd verse. That’s what I wanted to fix you know. I wanted it to be perfect like it was meant to be. So much could be achieved, symmetry in every creature, in every breath of wind and in each splash of rain. I wanted to reach into Arda and pull out its treasure to make it the jewel of Ea.”
Saeran looked into the child’s face and saw reflecting back at him a little of the great music, perfect chords waiting to be played so that the great music could be written. Of course the child like Ea would not remained untainted. He, more than anyone understood what a cruel capricious bitch Fate could be and like any whore she left you diseased after bending you over. The same would happen to this child and he may well be the instrument that destroys that perfection. It was just the way things were. Perhaps it would be more merciful to kill it now before he or anything else had a chance to corrupt the innocent soul. Let the babe die and go into the next world maintaining its perfection.
Unfortunately, his need of Eve’s obedience stayed the child’s execution for now.
“The irony of it all is, man who was so afraid of giving me allegiance when I asked for it, has taken the exact path I would have chosen for him a hundred thousand years ago. I could have delivered the modern world to him in the Third Age if they’d let me rule them. Everything they’ve achieved in the last three hundred years, once they dared to look beyond morality and religion could have happen so much sooner. I would have given them order, reason and industry. They wouldn’t have had to tiptoe around a holy book of half-truths and pious nonsense. Only now after so long, they understand that to build something great, you have to let go of superstition and embrace the cold, hard reality of reason. You have to look beyond sentimentality and make choices to get things done. Sometimes, you need to make sacrifices.”
The infant did not offer comment.
At the sensation of the breeze that blew through his hair, Saeran pulled his gaze away from the baby and raised his eyes aloft once more. The gale was not because of the wind but rather from the flapping of great wings. The dragons were returning to the fortress, like birds returning to the roost. They’d taken to exploring the immediate lands claiming the sky for their own as surely as he had claimed this fortress and these lands. This was the closest they had been to each other since Angband and their exultation was apparent in the exuberance of their flight together. Finally freed, there was beauty in watching them as them fly.
While there was beauty in the sky however, it was nowhere to be found on the ground.
For what was needed to be done, Saeran had required the inexhaustible power of the Flame Imperishable that Eru had placed in the heart of the world. While no creature alive could possess that power save the Creator himself, Saeran knew how to tap into the essence of it seeded in every living thing. To build his fortress and recreate the Plain of Gorgoroth around it, he’d drained the secret fire from every all life found on the place he wished to build.
Thick forests that had previously covered the area was now withered and lost in the upturned earth. Where there was once rich, loamy earth, there was now only shale and gravel. Fortunately, the mountains surrounding the tower had escaped the assault, retaining their green, lush beauty as Saeran could see a hill covered with daisies in the distance. He left that in place for now. In a short time, it would be gone anyway.
Aside from the dragons, the Nazgul had also taken to the skies, doing so astride their winged beasts. They were circling the air above the fortress, keeping watch for the enemy they all knew was coming. Truth be told, his servants were more concerned about the impending attack than he was. Saeran was confident that everything was as ready as it could be. Still the Nine were determined to strengthen their fortifications, issuing order to the wargs who were patrolling the woods and running down trespassers so that the spiders, who had claimed the trees, had fresh meat for their feasting.
Irina Sadko’s posthumous contribution to the war effort had finally arrived in the form of the Uruk-hai reinforcements that had finally emerged from their birthing chambers. When Aaron Stone and Bryan Miller had pulled their coward’s trick and captured him, the Uruks cultivated carefully for his grand plan had not been destroyed but remained dormant underground. Like the crop in Germany, they had slumbered until Morgul roused them all from their sleep and pressed them to his service once more.
Speaking of the former Witch King, Morgul was impatiently awaiting the dark so that the trolls and orcs could be enlisted to build new ramparts, high fences and appropriate battlements. The orcs and trolls were presently hiding in the shadows of the fortress which simply would not do, The elves were coming and probably men too who were terrified enough to follow in light of his army rampaging through Europe. Morgul would needed to start work and Saeran couldn’t have part of his forces hiding away from the sun when that moment came. He would not gamble on the possibility that the enemy might well get here before dark and.
“I think we could stand to cast a shadow or two on such a depressingly sunny day,” Saeran spoke to the baby with a smile and then looked to the sky for a moment before closing his eyes to command the elements.
Without further prompting, the wind grew suddenly fierce. Across the sky, the rush of air intensified until the whistling wind became a deafening roar that made the child start to whimper in his arms. Saeran ignored the infant’s distress for the moment, concentrating as the clouds rolled across the sky as if the curtains of the world had been drawn. The canopy of thick grey cumulous blotted out the sun and a shadow fell across the landscape both symbolically and literally. When he opened his eyes again, the sky was dark enough for the orcs and trolls to emerge from the fortress.
That should shut Morgul up, he thought.
Saeran then turned his gaze to the child in his arm and saw that it was still whimpering. The drastic change taking place around him had created fear in the boy and the bow shaped mouth quivered as a prelude to tears. Saeran reached out with his thoughts to quiet the child’s fears, whispering comfort in the newborn mind.
Never be afraid of anything little one. I am here because I feared nothing, not the elements, not the Valar and not even destiny
It was a new experience for Sauron, the former lord of Mordor but he was starting to see the babe’s use beyond a tool to control his mother.
************
It was a place that Aaron Stone never wanted to see again and yet as he walked through the collapsed ruins of David Saeran’s Romania fortress, he couldn’t get past it quick enough.
Saeran’s minions, whatever they might have been, had carved out a vast network of caves beneath the castle he had built prior to his incarceration in Valinor. When Aaron and the others had come here a scant two years ago, they’d learned that Saeran had used the honeycomb tunnels to house the Uruk-hai army he had been secretly growing with the help of his lover Irina Sadko.
Now everyone of those caverns was empty .
“They must have been roused to join Sauron’s army,” Legolas remarked as the group moved further away from them.
With the cavern behind them, they were approaching the debris field that had been built over to erect Saeran’s current monument to Bara-dur. The path ahead was an obstacle course of huge pieces of broken building comprising of collapsed walls and entire floors that had tumbled into the fissure created by Bryan and Eve’s bomb during that meeting. As always Legolas led the way even though he was not entirely comfortable with moving through the caves. Elves as a rule, preferred open spaces and it was not the first time, Legolas wished that Gimli had found his way back to them.
That hard headed dolt would have loved this battle and this place.
“That means they’ll be on the surface and waiting for us in the fortress,” Eric pointed out, instinctively raising the Uzi in his hands to check that the clip was in place in case the damn things showed up. The weapon was primed and ready to go but considering what kind of danger they were walking into, Eric preferred to be safe rather than sorry. The loss of his best friend and the people they’d left behind still weighed heavily on his mind.
“Legolas,” Aaron called out ahead to the elf who was acting as their scout. “Do you see anything?”
“Not yet,” Legolas answered as he leapt unto the triangular peak of a wall corner further along their path. Squinting, he stared as far as he could through the darkness at what lay ahead and saw nothing stirring. “The way is clear but it means little. He knows we are coming.”
“He does,” Fred confirmed, speaking up for the first time since they’d left Sam, Pip, Frank and Lori. It was hard to discerned whether or not her silence was due to the entity occupying her tiny body or was it because she missed Sam. “However he cannot see us. His theft of Melkor’s power has changed much but not enough for him to be all seeing.”
“At least that’s something,” Aaron muttered under his breath. He was fighting the gnawing terror in his gut that was taunting him with the possibility that he might not reach Eve and their baby in time.
“Do not be disheartened Aaron,” Legolas saw the growing despair in his friend’s face as he descended the rock pile to join them. “We will find Eve and your child soon enough.”
“Absolutely,” Miranda added, coming up alongside of him and squeezed his shoulder gently. “It won’t be long now.”
Bryan didn’t speak for a moment because Aaron’s fears made him remember how he lost Tory. He hadn’t gotten to her in time and because of that, Saeran had killed the woman he loved. Blinking slowly, he remembered how he found her, lying cold in the sand, pelted with rain. He and Tory had never found each other in the Third Age and not all the ages that after. This was the first time they’d been together and Saeran had known that. It was why he killed Tory.
He couldn’t let the same thing happen to Eve.
“I say we surrender,” Bryan stated.
All eyes except one turned to him in shock.
“What?” Eric burst out. “Have you lost your mind? Everything you guys told me about this bastard says that he’s going to bloody kill you buggers on sight. If you even make it to him!”
Aaron held back his exclamation, sensing that Bryan had not made the statement lightly. “What do you have in mind Bryan?” He asked quietly after Eric’s outburst.
“You know as well as I do, this isn’t going to get done by us sneaking up on him,” Bryan met the doctor’s eyes with a look of quiet resignation. “Fred and I need to get to him and you need to reach Eve. He’ll keep her near him because he knows as long as she’s close, we’ll be coming straight for him.”
Aaron didn’t have to hear Bryan reasoning to have reached the same conclusion himself. “Yeah I do,” he agreed and then replied to the others. “He’s right. The fastest way for me to get to Eve is to give myself up to them.”
“He could kill you outright!” Legolas exploded, his normally calm elven demeanour shattering at the turn this conversation was taking. Aragon Elessar had been his best friend. They’d been part of the Fellowship and survived the War of the Ring. Throughout the first century of the Fourth Age, they lived through times that would break most friendships. However, Aragon was more than a friend; he was a brother. While Legolas recognised that Aaron was his own creature, it did not diminish the friendship that formed between since their first meeting or did the loyalty he swore to this reincarnation of the man he once knew.
“No he won’t,” Bryan declared with certainty. “He wants Aaron to suffer, that’s why he took Eve in the first place. He won’t kill Aaron until he lets him see her, see how powerless Aaron is to help her. Saeran needs Aaron alive to do that.”
“And you?” Miranda stared at him sceptically. “What’s to stop him from killing you. He’s already had his revenge when he ...” her words faltered, unable to finish the sentence because they all knew what she meant.
“I don’t think he’ll kill me either,” Bryan whispered, forcing away images of Tory on the beach, pale and lifeless. The agony of her death continued to stab him from the deep place he’d thought he’d hidden it. It took him but a moment to compose himself enough to resume speaking. “Not yet and not before a face to face. That’s all we need.” He glanced at Fred who seemed even more sombre than ever.
“So what’s the plan?” Eric asked starting to suspect that nothing he, Miranda or Legolas had to say would change the decision that was being reached. This battle wasn’t just for the world, it was for all the races, for all time. Sacrifices needed to be made. Jason’s loss had taught him that. The girl they’d left behind with her leg torn open had been willing to be left die so they could save it. He understood even if he hated it.
“Fred,” Aaron said to the little girl, no longer addressing the child but the entity within her, his words dripping with resignation. “Can you keep Miranda, Legolas and Eric hidden?”
Sombrely, the girl nodded. “I can.”
“I will not abandon you...” Legolas opened his mouth to protest but Aaron cut him off.
“Old friend,” Aaron came to the elf so he could look Legolas in the eye, “I’m not asking you to abandon me but to help Eve and our child get out of there alive. Please.”
Legolas blinked and turned away, cursing Sauron, cursing that he hadn’t been destroyed in the Second Age, that he kept returning to plague them and taking away the people they loved. “Alright,” he answered finally, not looking at Aaron. “I will do as you ask.”
The decision, one no one was happy with, was the only plan they had.
Finally, Miranda sensing the thick emotions at play, spoke up with female practicality. “Okay,” she sighed, “if we’re going to do this, let’s make it count.”
************
When Eve saw Saeran standing at the top of the tower, holding her son in her hands, it was enough to make her even more hysterical then she’d been when she’d woke up and found that her baby was gone. She dragged herself off of the stone slab that served as her bed and staggered to the door, every step taken lancing through her with pain. She was exhausted and the birth had been hard without the aid of a midwife and any post natal care. When she’d reached the door, she’d found it lock and pounding on it had only served to provoke her Uruk-hai guard to growl her back into submission.
Helpless, she had little choice but to wait until they’d returned for her a short time later. Even as they barged in, Eve didn’t even have the strength to keep them from grabbing her and escorting her to their master through the long, winding steps that spiralled through the fortress. By the time she’d reach the top, Eve knew she was bleeding again and a sob of frustration and misery escaped her because she wished more than anything that Aaron was here to fix her. She needed him here almost as much as she needed to hold their son again.
“Give me back my son, you bastard!” She growled with a ferocity so primal it felt almost animal when she saw Saeran standing that with her son. She would have gladly tore him to pieces, ignoring the fact that he could kill her without even lifting a finger or the fact that she could barely stand.
Saeran gave her a dismissive smile as he stood at the edge of the tower, the darkened clouds behind him so heavy and dark with rain that it looked like someone had painted for him just for effect. There was thunder behind those clouds because she could hear them rumble like a god about to awaken from a long sleep. She felt the shift she was wearing swirling around her legs and her hair whipped at her cheeks from the fierce wind at this height.
“Really Eve, I never had an intention of keeping him away from you.” He walked back to her and handed her the babe who seemed quite content despite the warring emotions between him and Eve. Gesturing to the two Uruks standing behind Eve, Saeran dismissed them with a wave of a finger. They nodded obediently and descended down the steps of the tower, like a pair of Rottweilers returning to the yard they were guarding.
Eve took her son and sank to the cold hard floor, weeping fresh tears when she saw that he was unhurt and seemingly at peace, a stark contrast to her own despair. Saeran didn’t stay to watch the reunion, retreating to the edge of the tower where resumed his observation of the view, his back facing her.
How easy it would be to push him over the edge, Eve thought. If his body died wouldn’t that end him?
“It wouldn’t serve you well to make the attempt,” he declared without turning back to look at her. “If this form dies, I will find the most convenient vessel to inhabit and that would be your son.”
God, no. She uttered a strangled gasp, hating that she could hide nothing from him and was once again, outmanoeuvred as her choices became walls closing in on her.
He smiled to himself at the sound of her anguish because he knew that she was close to breaking. A little more of this and she would be compliant. He could feel her will fracturing and the birth of her child had made it happen so much quicker. “I apologise for bringing you here but I wanted to share the moment and as intriguing as I found your son, he isn’t much for conversation.”
“Share the moment?” She glared at him, wondering what nightmare he was about to unfold before her.
Returning to her, Saeran gripped her arm firmly and hauled her back to her feet. Like the Uruk-hai before him, Eve lacked the strength to prevent it and he was strong. Whether it was because of his powers or the condition of his physical shell, she could not say but she was helpless in his reach as he tugged her across the dark stone tiles to the edge of the tower. For an instant, she thought it might be to throw her off and for a brief moment, as terrible as it was to admit, she almost welcomed death. At least she and the baby would go together.
Unfortunately, it was nothing that liberating.
Beneath them, she saw what he wanted her to see. The sight of it made her gasp. The rumble that she had thought was coming from the sky was in fact coming from the ground. They were the combined voices of his army, the denizens freed from the Forbidden Vaults, the Uruks who had been awakened since his return to Arda and any other malevolent creature that had been waiting in the dark for his call to arms. They were all there beneath the tower; an army the world hadn’t seen since the ancient days of the Third Age of Middle Earth. Circling above them on winged beasts were five of the Nazgul, commanding the campaign and waiting for the word to be given.
“Why did you want me to see this?” Eve asked, horrified by the sight of them. She thought of Aaron, Legolas and the others trying to reach her and the baby feeling a fresh surge of misery at its futility. They’d die before even reaching the fortress and that still wouldn’t stop Aaron from trying.
“To let you know that you won’t be alone for long,” he said triumphantly. “Elrond and the elves are on their way and when they get here, we will give them a reception worthy of Mordor.”
************
When the elevator reached its destination with a slight jolt, Dennis was ready.
Unlike his previous actions where he had played the role of visiting General for the purposes of subterfuge, there was no mistaking his intentions when the elevator doors slid open and he stepped out of it at the bottom of the shaft. Dennis didn’t wait to see there was an armed reception committee waiting for him. He strode quickly out of the elevator, making his way to the second set of blast doors that led to the inside to the control centre. There was already every possibility that the alarm had been raised by Latimer and the two men manning the launch station in this underground bunker were expecting. It didn’t matter if they were or not; he was ready for them too.
There was a second blast door which he had to cross or else he risked being locked out of the launch control and as he approached, Dennis saw those doors were already starting to close. He hastened his pace to reach it but unfortunately, as he had suspected there was someone there to bar his way.
“General, stay where you are!” One of two men barked. Both had their weapons drawn and were barring him from proceeding through the rapidly closing doors.
“I can’t do that son,” Dennis retorted, very conscious of how much time he had before those doors closed and locked him out. If that happened, he’d never get through and fulfil his destiny. “This needs to happen or millions of American lives will be lost.”
The two men exchanged glances. Their worst fears about the General were confirmed and in a measured voice, the first one who had spoken, the soldier named Kendrick, addressed him. “I’m sorry Sir, you know you’re not supposed to be here.”
The door was almost half way close now and he was prepared to open fire to let it continue any further without getting through when suddenly that same black swirl appeared before his eyes. Like before, it proved that he had imagined nothing, as the dark smoke moved towards the men with purpose, swirling around their bodies and enveloping them. Their faces displayed confusion that quickly became fear when the tendrils of black smoke began to take its effect on them. It took place so quickly that neither man had time to register what was happening to them before they crumpled to the floor, writhing in pain like the men before.
Go now!
The order was so sharp and commanding that Dennis didn’t think twice. He darted forward, leaping through the rapidly closing blast doors and running past the two men on the floor. They were clutching their throats, choking on some unknown malaise that he was certain it was the work of his ‘guardian’ angels. The doors sealed with a loud thud and Dennis let out a sigh of relief. knowing that the last major hurdle was behind him. There was nothing to stop him from carrying out his plans now. However, he could not let his angel kill the two men. He need one of them because of the two men policy to initiate launch.
Convinced he was no longer alone now, he spoke out. “I need one of them.”
The swirling black smoke paused instantly and the dark cloud lifted from Kendrick. While he stopped writhing, he seemed gripped by a new affliction that left him dazed and seemingly uncomprehending until a chilling, sinister hiss was heard.
“Help him.”
It was the first time that Dennis had actual proof that his guardian angel was not a figment of his imagination but something real. He saw a flash of crimson, like laser pointers in mid air and realised its where eyes would have been if someone was standing there in front of him.
“You’re there aren’t you?” Dennis whispered. “I mean I didn’t imagine you.”
“We are here,” the voice was clearer now and not in his head. “To help you save your people.”
“Thank you,” Dennis said to them before turning to Kendrick who was still standing there, rooted to the spot as he awaited instructions. Under the influence of his ‘angel’ Kendrick stared into nothingness with glazed eyes. Even when Dennis stepped in front of the man, he looked through the general rather than registering his presence.
“Don’t worry son,” Dennis reassured him with the calm, soothing voice of authority. “What we’re about to do is going to save billions.”
Unseen, the Nazgul could only smile.
************
Astride the back of an eagle, Elrond’s return to Mordor was unlike anything he’d imagined.
In the distance, he could see the dark tower that was erected by Sauron once more. While it was in no way comparable to the ominous terror of Bara-dur in the Third Age, it was no less terrifying as he approached it. For the second time. he was accompanied by an alliance of free men and elves who had banded together to defeat the dark lord in a final, decisive victory. He had returned to Valinor with the belief that there would be no more wars, no more loved ones falling in battle and the legacy of Morgoth was forever ended.
Yet as he rode on Grimnir’s back with Elladan and Elrohir, Elrond faced the confrontation ahead with mixed emotions. For so long, the elves had waited for Dagor Dagorath and after Eve and Aaron had been admitted into Valinor, the premonition that its time was coming had began to fill his dreams. After so long in their cloistered realm, it was easy to forget Eru’s prophecy and think they would go on forever in Aman without end. Now he realised that their arrival had been the prelude to the End of Days. Perhaps it had begun even sooner, when Melkor had been reawakened or even further back when Sauron was been banished to the Void.
Whatever the cause; the result was still the same. The elves were going to face evil yet again.
Still, their alliance with men was very different this time. With the assistance of Imrahil and Theoden’s reincarnations, the elves were able to parlayed with the authorities of man to reach the understanding that they faced a common enemy. Mankind had difficulty believing in elves or that there was a time when they shared Arda with a number of races. However, they could not deny the threat that had come upon them unawares, they could not ignore the urloki or the fell army that marched across their lands, slaughtering their people. They could not ignore that Sauron had managed to render their ability to communicate ineffective to leave them disorganised and confused.
Once these things were overcome, the goal to work together was reached quickly. Necessity had forged their alliance and Elrond did not know if it would survive after the battle was done, if anyone would be alive after. For now, they needed to deal with Sauron.
Flying side by side the eagles, were the flying machines of man who had mastered the sky in every way capable. From smaller one man craft that could move at speed so fast they cracked the sky open a thunderclap, to the larger clumsier vehicles, devoid of grace but capable of carrying fifty men at a time across vast distances. They kept pace with the eagles who viewed the craft with bemusement while the men inside them stared back at the magnificent creatures in awe and wonder.
The rest of Arda’s troops were following behind in their land vehicles, heavy metal chariots that sped across the black stone trails that crisscrossed Arda like an undecipherable maze. They moved with surprising speed and were capable of ferrying large numbers, even if they spouted smoke that was worthy of Mount Doom in their ash. Still, because of these vehicles, they were only hours behind the eagles. It assured the consolidation of all their forces when they reached Sauron.
“Wargs!” Elladan shouted, pointing to the ground as they flew above the trees that covered the peaks surrounding the fortress.
Following his son’s direction, Elrond surveyed the land and sighted the creatures roaming the hills, their dark, russet bodies scouring the area, their snouts sniffing the air, seeking any threat to Mordor. As he watched them meandering through the forest, he wondered what other perils lay in wait in those formerly benign woods.
“Not just Wargs,” Elrohir replied over the sound of rushing wind and pointed to the web encrusted tree tops and branches. While he could not see what created them, he knew they were there, hiding in wait until their victims arrived. “I’ve seen such webs in Mirkwood. There are spiders down there. Sauron is fortifying his position.”
This did not surprise Elrond in the slightest. “It is to be expected,” he sighed, “they know we will be coming and they are making preparations. Sauron has other designs that are taking place elsewhere in the world. He knows as do his servants that our only way to halt those evil deeds is defeat him. They are ensuring that we do not reach him until his plans have opportunity to unfold. I do not expect these to be the only precautions the enemy takes. We should expect greater evils awaiting us when we near closer to his fortress.”
“It appears you are right father,” Elladan returned glancing at the darkened sky above. The clouds were so thick that the whole sky seemed to have drained of colour. The shadows cast upon the land told him that Sauron had considered his position and taken steps to ensure that all his forces would be free to take part in the coming battle. “He brings the darkness across the sky for his orcs and trolls.”
Elrond stopped speaking and his eyes darkened as he faced forward. The doom that had been cast over them was not simply the absence of the sun but one that soaked through their senses and would affect them all. Elrond was even certain that he was the first but he knew he what was coming.
The scream that tore through the air a split second later was a cry that was all to familiar to him.
The reaction of the elves was immediate and Elrond wondered if the men in their flying machines could hear the cry of the enemy through the noise of their crafts. In any case, it was not a risk that Elrond was prepared to make because he knew that many elves resided in those machines.
“Nazgul!” Elladan cried out, pointing at the winged creatures that were swooping towards them.
Let us deal with this enemy, son of Eärendil. Elrond hear Grimnir’s voice in his head. We may not be able to kill the servants of Sauron but we will be able to defeat their beasts.
Set us down then, Elrond answered. And do your worst.
************
“Jesus,” Aaron whispered as he peered over the rocks at the enemy assembled before them.
Throughout this entire affair, they had been trailing Saeran and his army. Across the North Atlantic from Valinor to England and then over Europe, they’d constantly been one step behind the dark lord and his army. Always on the edge of the destruction, they’d only seen the aftermath of Saeran’s rampage across Europe as his forces slaughtered thousands while burning their way through towns and cities. However, they’d never seen the entirety of the forces he’d amassed until now.
Aaron, Bryan and Fred emerged from the caves through an outcropping of boulders that sat on the foothill of the peaks surrounding the newly constructed tower. The plan had been to find Saeran’s forces and surrender to them willing. However upon surveying the scene before them, neither Bryan nor Aaron were prepared for just how large a force he had gathered. Even if they didn’t dare face the possibility that Saeran might succeed in his efforts to bring about the End of Days, there was no denying the terrifying might of his assembled army.
“Yeah,” Bryan agreed with Aaron’s horror. If anything, he thought the discovery warranted stronger words.
Across the plain, there was a great deal of activity taking place and if nothing else, Bryan had to admire the efficiency on display. Saeran was working fast to construct suitable defences to deal with the forces that would be coming for him. Enormous trolls were helping to carry thick logs, positioning them so that orcs could move in to build ramparts around the fortress. Other trolls were carrying large blocks of stone to erect a protective wall to hinder invading forces from reaching the foot of the tower. Saeran had only been here a day or more and already, Bryan was astonished by how much progress he was making in constructing his defences.
“He’s getting ready for a fight.” He added.
“They have learnt their lesson from the War of the Ring,” Fred explained, watching the scene unfold without emotion. “During the Battle of the Morannon, Sauron’s eye was so fixed on the armies of Gondor and Rohan that he did not see Frodo and Sam steal across the plain of Gorgoroth until it was too late. He will not make that mistake again. He will ensure there are no trespassers in his realm.”
“Terrific,” Aaron grumbled, worried about how Legolas, Miranda and Eric would fare if they tried to enter the fortress. In the end, he knew situation was out of his hands and they had their own part to play. Turning to Bryan, he said with a resigned sigh, “If we’re going to do this now is a good a time as any.”
“Right, let’s do this,” Bryan agreed and broke his study of the scene unfolding in front of them. It was not in his nature to surrender to anyone but the truth was, this was the only way to reach the dark lord. Saeran loved gloating too much not to resist the chance to meet his enemies face to face to have his final laugh before the end.
“Come on Fred,” he picked up the little girl in his arms and knew that this may well be the last time he got to pick her up this way. His strength was wanning and the injuries Aaron had been holding in check was starting to wear on him. Even if she wasn’t really his Fred in his arms, Bryan still wanted to do it just the same.
As if understanding the sentiment behind it, Fred wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her head on his shoulder, the way she had done when he had first come to her rescue in Cardiff. For a moment, the entity in her body was nowhere to be felt and the gesture was that of the child who loved this man as a father and protector. It was a brief moment but it had the desired effect of renewing Bryan’s promise to do anything to make the world safe for this little girl.
Next to Tory, she was the other great love of his life.
Aaron said nothing and felt his heart grow heavier because he thought of Eve and what she was going through alone. How frightened she must and worse yet, helpless. His wife was strong and spirited, knowing that Saeran would have undoubtedly used their baby to break that indomitable will was more than he could stand. Worse yet, Fred had told his baby had been born which meant Eve had gone through the birth alone. He should have been there with her and knowing that it was not so, made him want to scream with indignant outrage.
“Hey Yorkie,” Aaron said as the two of them stepped out from behind the rocks. “Whatever happens, its been an honour.”
“Same here Doc,” Bryan replied with a faint smile. “You’re a rubbish shot but you’re good in a fight.”
“Thanks,” Aaron chuckled softly before they held each other’s gaze for a moment and made a final, wordless exchange between them conveyed the deep friendship and affection they felt towards each other. Bryan and Aaron were two very different men who found themselves in extraordinary circumstances and built a bond of trust because of it. It was a friendship that didn’t need the legacy of Aragorn and Boromir to be forged.
With a simple nod exchanged, the two men began walking down the hill towards Saeran’s encampment.
************
The sight that greeted Legolas, Miranda and Eric was far different than the one that greeted Aaron, Bryan and Fred.
Legolas had selected a different place to exit the caves after realising that many of the exits were created for the Uruks bred below ground. Once they made their mind up to surface, it was not hard to find these pathways once he started following the tracks left behind by the Uruks after their ‘birth’ drove them to the surface.
However, when he climbed over the rocks to survey where had emerged, he heard the ear splitting screech of the Nazgul. Ducking down instinctively, he saw the Nazgul astride its winged beast flying overhead, racing back to Sauron’s fortress.
“Cover your ears!” He warned Miranda and Eric, aware that the Nazgul’s cry affected men far worse than elves. Elves who lived with a foot in two different realms, were capable of withstanding much of the Nazgul’s power and Legolas was no different.
The order made Miranda and Eric retreat back into cave opening with Miranda cursing out loud as she clamped her hands over her ears to block out the scream. The Nazgul screech sent a chill of ice through her spine and very nearly crumbled her resolve to keep going. The bastards used fear, she told herself and tried to crush that emotion into submission so the enemy could not exploit it. With her head down, Miranda closed her eyes and waited for the moment to pass or for Legolas to give them the all clear signal.
Moments passed after the Nazgul screech died but Legolas had said nothing.
Unable to hold back much longer, Miranda climbed out of the cave mouth with Eric following close behind her to see what it was that had held the elf’s attention so singularly that he’d forgotten them.
“What is it?” Miranda demanded to know when she heard something else now that the Nazgul scream was gone. The distinct sound of engines rumbling and the whump whump whump of rotor blades drawing closer and closer. However, it was not the sound that Legolas was staring at. It was something far more extraordinary.
“Look” Legolas declared, a grin spreading across his face as he stared at the space behind them.
Eric had already turned around and he shared the elf’s exultation as he saw what was coming at them. “Bloody magic!”
And it was.
Coming in for a landing on the gradually diminishing slope against mountain they had climbed out of were the eagles. One by one, the magnificent creatures with wings so wide they almost blotted out the sun when fully extended landed against the green foothills. Miranda had seen them before, the great eagles of Manwë who were known to carry his messages and were often seen circling Mount Taniquetil from Tirion. She known of their existence but until now had never seen them up close. They’d seem so small then and Miranda realised just how uniformed she truly was about them. They were huge! So huge they were capable of carrying passengers with ease. In fact, it was precisely what they were doing as they landed around them.
“Oh God,” she exclaimed. “I didn’t realise...”
“Its not just the eagles,” Eric pointed out the passengers sitting on their backs. Stallion choppers and what appeared to be F-35 fighters capable of vertical and horizontal landings were also coming over the mountain, searching for a suitable place to land.
Miranda recognised the Stallions that were still in development when she left the service. They were a heavy cargo helicopter that were capable of carrying at least 50 personnel and was widely used in places that did not have proper airfields. She counted at least ten of them searching for a place to land. Not all were troop carriers though. Miranda spotted a number of Russian gunships to accompany the cargo choppers. The fighters however had paused in midair, flattening plants and vegetation beneath them as they held their position.
“It appears your people and mine have reached an accord,” Legolas said with some surprise.
“That’s putting it mildly,” Eric declared, quite honestly stunned at the obvious cooperation he was seeing. He didn’t think the human race had it in them to pull together like this.
“It helps having a mutual enemy about to destroy the planet,” Miranda added.
“Come on!” Legolas urged with some excitement before he hurried towards the eagles and the elves that starting to gather on the hill.
Miranda and Eric wasted no time following the elf, keeping pace with him as he crossed the short distance between them and eagles. In the same way that the eagles were waiting for their passengers to alight, the choppers hatches were being pulled open to allow a mixture of elves and men to emerge from their holds. As soon as the eagles were free however, they were flapping their enormous wings and taking flight again. As they did so, Miranda saw the jets that had been holding position, accelerate to join them in the journey towards the tower.
“Mae Govannen!” Legolas called out as he saw Elrond, Elrohir and Elladan beneath the shadow of Grimnir’s departure.
“Mae Govannen Legolas!” Elladan returned after he’d raced to meet the exuberant greeting of the wood elf with a brotherly hug. He was joined by Elrohir and his father when they saw the rest of the Prince’s company.
“It is very good to see all of you,” Legolas declared and as he saw the elven and human forces around them becoming more and more numerous. One by one, the eagles were departing and Legolas wondered what quest had Elrond set upon them.
“Greetings to all of you,” Elrond greeted the three of them and showed visible relief in seeing them all safe and sound though he didn’t immediately voice his concern at the missing members of their party.
“Its good to see friendly faces again,” Miranda admitted. “Its been a hard road here.” She confessed glancing at Eric whose jaw clenched because he knew Jason’s death was a part of that.
“For all of us,” Elrond agreed readily.
“Where is Aaron?” Elladan asked before his father could. The absence of their kinsmen was gaping even though they had reconciled themselves to the fact that Sauron had Eve.
Legolas’ expression darkened. “He, Bryan and Fred have surrendered to Sauron.” The situation still felt like ash in his mouth as he said it and the words escaped him bitterly. “Aaron felt that it would be the fastest way to reach Sauron.”
“It is a good idea,” Elrond frowned unhappily at the danger to the three, even if it was the only logical course.
“And your husband and children? What about Jason?” Elrohir questioned and noted that Elrond placed a hand on his shoulder as if to stay his question about Jason but it was too late.
“We decided that it wasn’t safe for Sam and Pip to go any further,” Miranda explained though the decision tore at her still. “Frank stayed behind with the kids along with an ally we made.”
“Lothiriel of Dol Amroth,” Legolas muttered quietly at the twins, hopefully distracting them from inquiring after Jason any further.
The ploy worked and both of them shot Eric a bemused look of surprise.
“What?” Eric demanded, puzzled by the reaction. “What is it?”
“It is not important,” Elrond declared, propelling them past the moment. “It was a wise decision my lady.” He looked at Miranda, sensing her conflict. “For more reasons than you know.”
“I hated to do it but Frank was right, I don’t want my children anywhere near Uruks or Nazgul. I wish Aaron and Bryan didn’t have to take Fred but there was no choice there. At least we know he likes to gloat, he won’t be able to resist the change to rub Aaron’s face in it, now that he has Eve and the baby so he’ll keep them alive for awhile.” It was not much consolation but it was something.
“Yes,” Elrond agreed, his expression darkening because he’d seen his daughter and grandson in visions. “I know what the enemy’s plans for the child are and we will reach Eve to save her and my grandchild from this terrible fate.”
“It will be done father,” Elrohir stated, his jaw clenching with anger and fierce determination. “We will rescue our whole family before this day is ended.”
Suddenly a voice called out in their direction.
“PRINCE!”
Legolas reacted immediately, recognising the voice and turning sharply towards it. He saw Ariel pushing her way through the crowd of elves and men and before he knew it, he was running forward to meet her.
When they had left each other after arriving at Arda, Legolas had truly feared that he’d lost his wife and for a time, he’d been content with it. However as they days stretched and they neared closer and closer to the End of Days, he had found examining how he treated her and was ashamed of it. Had he been more faithful to a memory or a flesh and blood woman who had loved him, even though she knew he saw her as someone else? Legolas had wanted so much to make it up to her, wanted the chance to show her that it could be different. Of course he’d love Melia forever. However, he’d been given a unique chance to love another without betraying her and he’d wasted it.
However as Ariel ran towards him, the naked joy he saw in her face at his presence, filed his heart with hope that perhaps she might give him another chance to prove it, no matter how this day ended.
They met each other in a strong embrace that had him sweeping her off her feet and spinning her around in his arms. No sooner than Legolas had set her down, he was capturing her lips in an equally powerful kiss of unbridled joy and passion. When their lips met, it was as if all the anger and guilt between them was forgotten and Legolas knew he was kissing his wife, not Melia but his wife Ariel who had shared his existence for the last ten millennia.
“Forgive me,” he whispered in her ear when they parted and faced each other again. “I have been a fool. You have given me your heart and I have treated it poorly. I love you Ariel. You are not a substitute for Melia and if I gave you cause to believe such a thing then I am sorry.”
Ariel’s eyes misted over with tears and emotion. She had been so happy to see him again, alive and well that she hadn’t cared how they had parted. After the death she’d seen and the battles she’d fought since arriving in Arda, she had learned how to measure what was truly important to her. Still, hearing his words also gave her comfort and greater reason for happiness because she sensed that he was speaking honestly and not in an attempt to appease her.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she wiped her eyes even though secretly his admission mattered greatly to her. “With everything that has happened, friends I have seen fallen, I feared that you might be one of those who have been lost. The thought that you might be dead was a pain I could not even begin to imagine. I am sorry for my part in our quarrel...”
“No,” he stopped her from going further and took her hands in his. “You were right be angry. I have been unfair to you. I have been clinging to a person who has been dead for a very long time even though I was given a second chance to love again and it is you that I love Ariel, more than anything.”
Fresh tears ran down her cheeks as he reaffirmed his love for her and with that said, she revealed what she had learned about herself since leaving Valinor. “She lives inside me Legolas. Perhaps I need to be out in the world to feel her but she is here with me and we both agreed on our love for you.”
The admission warranted another kiss and Legolas leaned forward again, pressing his lips to hers once more. “I swear on my life that when this is over, I will give you the future that you deserve although,” he said with a smile, “it maybe very different from what’ve we known before.”
“I am no stranger to difficulty,” she teased back. “I was married to you after all. You can be quite impossible.”
Kissing her forehead, he replied, “I am not the only one.”
************
Aaron and Bryan mapped their surrender carefully, ensuring that they were within sight of the Nazgul gave themselves up.
While the Nazgul would show restraint by not killing them outright, the same could not be said for the Uruks or orcs. Ill tempered and prone to burst of violence, there was every chance the foul things would kill them before realising their importance. Only Fred’s presence gave Aaron any kind of hope that this would not happen. After all, the kid had made a balrog turn tail and run so he expected them to fare a little better with the orcs and uruks.
Deciding to dispense with subtlety, they marched right up to the ramparts under construction and chose to call out, letting the dice fly to let fate decide what came next.
“Hey NAZGUL!” Bryan shouted as they came within sight of the enemy’s encampment beneath the shadow of the fortress. “GET YOUR ARSE OVER HERE!”
The reaction was immediate. Exclamations of surprise was soon followed by angry growls and violent threats as it felt like the entire host of new Mordor turned towards them and exploded with commotion. Leading the charge were the uruks who rushed forward, surrounding them in a matter of seconds.
Aaron tried to kerb his terror as the hordes closed in on them on all sides and shot Bryan a look, “real subtle.”
“That’s what we English are all about mate, we’re always toff.” Bryan grinned, projecting a do or die bravado in the face of the enemy forces surrounding them. It was the only way he could stave off the fear that threatened to overwhelm him right along with the creatures that were circling them right now. Instinctively, he held on to Fred’s hand tighter.
“Yeah, tell that to Benny Hill,” Aaron snorted as the first of the uruks growled at him.
“You’ve made a big mistake coming here!” The creature barked at him, baring sharp teeth and a misshapen skull that made a Klingon look pretty. There was something deeply disturbing about seeing them armed with AK-47s. The orcs however, were carrying traditional weapons of cruel looking blades and gnarled spears.
“We want to see your...” Bryan never got to finish the sentence as he was promptly struck across the jaw with the butt of the Uruk’s gun. He staggered sideways, losing his grip of Fred’s hand and bumping into Aaron, clutching his jaw in pain.
“Goddamn it!” Aaron exploded in outrage as he caught Bryan and tried to help him when he received similar treatment, except he was hit in the stomach instead of the face. Doubling over in pain, he was driven to his knees by another sharp blow slamming against his back.
“You’ll get nothing!” An orc hissed with menace. He was slightly shorter than Aaron, had greyish skin, sharp teeth and reeked of dead things. He glared at Aaron with menace while brandishing a wicked sneer. Aaron realised that this was probably the orc that stuck him. “We’re going to carve you up for our dinner, starting to with the young one!” He turned an eye towards Fred.
“Like hell you will,” Bryan barked and attacked. The threat to Fred snapped his restraint and he recuperated enough to lunge forward slam a fist into the orc’s grotesque face. The creature fell backwards and let out an indignant howl of rage at the attack while Bryan was set upon by Uruks once more.
“You’ll kill him!” Aaron shouted, struggling to reach the MI6 agent before he was beaten to death. However, Bryan’s assault had ensured that the creatures maintained an iron grip on him so he was helpless to do anything but watch.
“STOP!” A voice that sounded like the shattering of rock boomed around them and froze every orc and Uruk in their tracks. Bryan remained face down on the ground, his body crumpled in a heap.
Aaron didn’t have to look to know who had spoken because he was more concerned about Bryan’s condition. Unfortunately, he was still being restrained and could do nothing straighten up, his stomach aching from the blow to see the Nazgul approaching them. Not just any Nazgul, Aaron thought as he saw the chain mall beneath the dark, Dementor-like robes. Morgul.
Unlike the other wraith, Morgul distinguished himself by wearing a brutish looking head piece instead of a hood over his head. The Lord of the Nazgul strode through the group, causing them to fall back and give him a clear path to the prisoners. He seemed more imposing and terrifying than the other times that Bryan and Aaron had encountered him, as if the surge of power that had come to Saeran had also strengthened him.
Even though Aaron couldn’t see his face, he was certain that when Morgul paused a foot away from them, the son of a bitch was smiling.
“Welcome to Mordor,” Morgul hissed in that unearthly voice of his. “Have you come to claim your mewling whore or the pup she squeezed out? My lord has been most attentive to them both.” The spiked helmet lowered closer to Aaron, “I think he has decided to keep them both as pets.”
“You son a bitch...” Aaron growled, feeling the same fury that had overcome Bryan at what Eve was going through and almost took a step towards the wraith. However, the uruks holding him back growled a warning at him that forced him to swallow down his rage.
Suddenly Fred, who’d been silent through all this, stepped forward. She was too small for either orc or Uruk to restrain easily that it was easy for her to step in between Morgul and Aaron.
“Enough of this,” Fred declared fearlessly. “We do not come here to parlay with servants. Take us to your master, it is time he and I met.”
Being called a servant certainly didn’t sit well with Morgul at all and he started to respond when caught the girl’s piercing stare. Something burning in her eyes turned his insides cold, engendering a sensation of dread that he no longer thought himself capable of experiencing. If he had a heart that still beat, it would frozen in his chest. Morgul took a step back and needed a second to regain his composure as his mind trying to understand what she was.
Bryan had managed to get to his hands and knees. His face was covered in bruises but he managed to exchange the same look with Aaron, wondering who it was inhabiting Fred that inspired such fear.
“Take them to the master!” Morgul hissed, purposefully ignoring Fred now and keeping his attention focused on the two men instead.
As they were led away, Aaron chanced a glance at Morgul who appeared visibly unsettled by the encounter and wondered if Fred would have the same effect on Saeran.
No, not Saeran, Aaron corrected himself. David Saeran was a shell and it was Sauron, Lord of Mordor they were going to meet.
When the day came for Captain Henri Jardin to write his memoirs, he would be the first pilot in history to include a chapter on dragons.
Making a second pass over the Steflesti Peak, Henri and the ragtag squadron of Dassault fighters and F-35s waited patiently for the eagles to set down their passengers. They’d purposefully kept away from the tower even though they could see the dragons flying in the clouds. He was certain that the beasts were aware of the squadron and the eagles but made no move to attack. Henri suspected that the architect of all this chaos, David Searan, or as the elves called him, Sauron, were keeping them at bay.
He and the squadron had left Orly Air Base after the Ministère de la Défense of France and the United Kingdom respectively, had agreed that they would work with the strangers who had come to the aid of their countries. Accepting the incredulity that their allies were elves was easier when one considered what had laid siege to London and Paris. The Americans were strangely compliant about the situation but had nonetheless honoured their NATO allegiances by lending them a number of CH-53E Stallions. The large cargo choppers were at the moment on the ground, allowing the elves and ground troops of both French and English forces to disembark.
The enemy was constructing fortifications and as the planes approached the outermost rampart, Henri could see the bestial troops scattering across the plain, hurrying to take cover in anticipation of a strafing attack. His stomach clenched as he saw the creatures for the first time. Until now, his encounter had been mostly with the dragons but he had not seen the orcs and Uruk-hai the elves had described until now. Even from a distance, they looked like a terrible parody of life, a form twisted to inspire fear and nothing else.
Circling above them were other flying creatures, not quite as fearsome as the dragons but the figures astride them clothed entirely in black was another matter entirely. To him, they looked like Death, with blacks cloak and unseen hooded faces. However, the elves had warned the squadron about these so called ‘wraiths’ and their effect of human beings. Henri would have found it hard to believe if not for the fact that these creatures had rendered the soldiers in Paris and apparently in London too, completely vulnerable to be slaughtered by their minions.
“All pilots, do not engage wraiths,” Henri spoke into his aviator headset as a course of action had been decided prior to this. “Repeat, do not engage the wraiths. Break off and climb. Leave them to the eagles.”
“Affirmative, breaking off...” came a cackled response through the cockpit. It was followed by the others.”
“Copy that....”
“Breaking off...”
Leading the charge, he banked away from the Wraiths and fired his engines. The burst of acceleration took the plane further away from the enemy and headed towards the clouds. In his peripheral vision, he saw Griminir and some of the eagles breaking away to follow the jets, while the others continued towards the Wraiths.
Stay on your guard, Grimnir warned as the magnificent bird flew alongside the fighter jet. The dragons will be coming.
“Don’t worry,” Henri said with a smile, “This time, we’re ready for them.”
************
Would the battles ever end?
As Legolas saw the flying ships of man surging overhead towards the Nazgul in concert with the eagles, he wondered if peace only ever be achieved if it was won on a battlefield. A hundred thousand years and nothing had changed. Four Ages of Arda and it always ended with bloodshed. Morgoth’s seed of discord had chased them since the Ainur left the Timeless Halls. Even with his destruction, he had created his own successor who may well have exceeded even his grand ambitions.
Standing on the empty plain with the rest of the elves, Legolas cast his gaze towards the fortress in the distance, wondering if Fred, Bryan and Aaron had been delivered to Sauron already. There was no surprise in the coming attack, nothing that would give their side any advantage. The alliance of men and elves had been a hastily thrown together affair, unlike the enemy’s forces which Sauron had been carefully cultivating throughout his years in Arda, preparing for this moment. The battle for the air had begun between the eagles, man, the dragons and the Nazgul but on the ground it was still in abeyance.
The light was bleeding out of the sky and the curtain of night would be soon upon them.
Sauron had begun the process by creating a blanket of clouds to block out the sun but soon true darkness would be upon them and his army would be at their strongest. Legolas knew that even with the assistance of men, their numbers did not match the ferocity of Sauron’s forces. There hadn’t been enough time to gather more troops. With Fred’s warning that Sauron’s agents were preparing to unleash the Edain’s most fearsome weapons on the world, there was no time for anything but to make a final stand.
As he stared across the empty plain, he could see the ramparts they’d built, the new walls that enclosed the foot of the tower, to keep them from reaching their master. The Uruks and orcs were gathering behind the fortifications, armed with a mixture of modern and ancient weapons. Having seen the deadly efficiency of the former, Legolas knew that this battle would be unlike anything the elves had ever faced. The enemy knew they were outnumbered and with the dragons and Nazgul in attendance, the enemy were daring them to proceed.
Besides him, Ariel stood in readiness to fight and as he took in the sight of her, standing with her bow, he felt ashamed for how much he had wronged her by thinking her less than Melia had been. Now, he was proud of his wife who had never seen battle but was more than equal to the duty as she stood fearlessly with the rest of the elven army, waiting for the battle to begin. He prayed they would survive this day, so they could explore it together without the shadow of war.
“What are we waiting for?” Ariel whispered next to him.
“I am uncertain,” Legolas replied, “but Elrond’s discussion with the one who leads the Edain in this battle requires us to wait. It appears that more forces will be coming.”
“The one called Gideon,” Ariel nodded in acknowledgement. She remembered him from the aftermath of the attack on London City. When necessity had won over the Edain’s disbelief regarding the elves, Gideon had emerged as the voice of their army and parlayed with Elrond to decide upon a course of actions. It was Gideon who provided them with swift transport across the realm of France to the burning city of Paris. When it was realised that Sauron had rebuilt Bara-dur and had most likely returned to the remnants of his former kingdom, Gideon had led the forces of man in concert with the elves to defeat the dark lord once and for all.
“I believe so,” Legolas replied, catching a glimpse of Miranda and Eric who were being supplied with weapons from their own people, a short distance away from them.
“Prince, if this is the End of Days,” Ariel met his gaze. “What we do here may not give us a tomorrow. If Dagor Dagorath is upon us then the outcome of this battle has already been written. The Second Great Music was meant to be sung. Our fate is unknown and thus we may not survive this day because Ilúvatar has decided it to be so, not because of Sauron’s will.”
Legolas refused to believe that. Not after everything they had endured. “I do not believe that this is Dagor Dagorath, not the way Ilúvatar intended it to be. Melkor should have been here instead of Sauron. He should have blotted out the sun and moon but he is not here. I believe he is truly destroyed. I believe Sauron has taken his power and by doing so brought disruption to Ilúvatar’s design.”
“But how?” Ariel exclaimed. “Would not Eru have stopped him?”
Legolas didn’t answer her but he suspected Elrond may know the answer to that question and deep in his heart, he believed, he may know it too.
************
A hundred thousand years after its destruction and the One Ring still bound them all.
It bound Sauron who made it. It bound Aragorn whose ancestor stole it. It bound Frodo who destroyed it and finally it bound Boromir who was destroyed by it. Perhaps the true legacy of the One Ring was to bind them all forever, their fates forever linked in a cycle of despair and violence. It seemed they were carrying out the final act of a drama they’d be playing out forever. No matter how much had passed, in the end, they’d always find themselves in the same place.
Facing each other on the eve of Armageddon.
Once Morgul had waved them away, the Uruk escort of six walked them into the dark tower that seemed to have been carved by darkest obsidian. The innards of the fortress was almost as ominous as the rest of it. The steps, the doorways, the winding staircases and long corridors seemed carved out of a solid piece of obsidian, whittled away until all that was left was Sauron’s fortress. It was stark and Spartan which was fitting for a dark lord on the cusp of destroying the world.
As Aaron, Bryan and Fred were taken up so many stairs, they’d lost count, he wondered where Eve was in this place. The realisation that this was where his child had been brought into the world filled him with a mild sense of horror and he was grateful that the infant would have no memory of this place when they took him away from here. Aaron still clung to the hope that he would get Eve out of this nightmare, that somehow, she and their son would return to Valinor, even if he didn’t make it.
Bryan struggled to keep up but Aaron saw what toll his injuries were taking on him. He was already suffering the gunshot wound and the Uruk had battered him enough to exacerbate the injury further. His face covered in bruises, Aaron watched his friend with concern and worried that at some point, Bryan’s injuries would be beyond his ability to recover. Still, he held Fred’s hand and ensured the child kept pace with them, even if his own limits were being tested.
“All this power,” Bryan snorted, “you think he’d work out how to build a lift.” He whispered and tossed Aaron a wink through a swollen eye.
“Take all the Darth Vader vibe out of the place if he did that I think,” Aaron joined in the joke, not caring if the Uruks didn’t like them indulging in some gallows humour.
“Quiet!” The one standing directly behind him barked on cue, shoving him ahead a few steps.
“Just take it easy,” Aaron tossed back a look. “Seriously, you gonna deprive us of conversation before you take us to our deaths?”
Fred said nothing but appeared amused by the conversation.
“Shut your maggot hole or else.....” the Uruk demanded.
“Or what?” Bryan snorted. “You’ll kill us? I’m betting we know your master a good deal better than you do and he’s not going to want us taken apart until he sees us first so until then, SOD OFF!”
The Uruk who had shoved Aaron raised his gun to fire but was halted by another of his comrades who growled, “Don’t do anything stupid. Let him make noise, the master will cut out his tongue later.”
“Nice,” Aaron complimented Bryan in a quieter tone.
“Thanks,” he shrugged, aware that a little bit of defiance was not going to make much difference but at least it made him feel better.
As they continued to climb, Aaron saw just how high they were through the windows which were little more than arrow loops if he understood the vernacular appropriately. They were without glass since it appeared that Sauron hadn’t gotten around to furnishings. Nevertheless, they were given a clear view of battle that was brewing outside the fortress walls. Sauron’s forces were preparing for a fight and their fortifications implied that they soon expected to have visitors.
“Can you hear that?” Bryan whispered at Aaron.
“What?” Aaron stared at him and then realised through the whistling winds of this height, there was the rumble of something mechanical that was growing in intensity. Since returning to Arda, Aaron had become familiar with the sound again. Planes.
Indeed a second later, he saw a dozen planes heading towards the castle. The Nazgul were in the air with their winged beasts and Aaron thought that the planes might take a shot at them but then inexplicably, the squadron broke off short of reaching the wraiths and began climbing. Only was they started ascending, did Aaron noticed the eagles that accompanied them and the ones that were moving towards the Nazgul to attack.
“KEEP MOVING!” One of the Uruk, probably the same one from earlier, snapped again and shoved Aaron forward once more.
He tripped against the stairs, landing heavily on his hands before cursing under his breath, “asshole.”
Finally, the stairs emptied into the tower turret and a number of short steps led to a parapet that was the highest point in the tower. Like the rest of the fortress, it was empty save for the steps that led out of it. There were no windows but then there was no reason for one because the top of the steps would give anyone a panoramic view of the outside. The wind was blowing harder and the whistling they’d heard was gale force in its intensity.
As the Uruks ushered them towards the steps, Fred clutched Bryan’s hand tighter as she looked at him. “I love you Bryan,” she whispered. Her brown eyes moist with tears.
“I love you Fred,” Bryan stared down at her understanding her timing. It may be the last chance they had to say these things to each other. “Whatever happens up there, I’ll always love you. I promise you I’d take care of you so you won’t be alone. Miranda and Frank are already mad for you. They’ll do right by you.”
Fred nodded and the cool, aloof mask she’d been melted away. All that remained was the child, trying to be brave, trying not to cry even if her lips quivering. In the same way she’d known her time with her parents were finite, Fred had always known that she would lose Bryan and Tory. Even though the voice inside her head soothed her with assurances that everything would work out, she knew this fact to be incontrovertible, that there was no changing it.
Aaron wanted to speak but he didn’t know what to say nor did he feel he should. Bryan didn’t expect to survive this and perhaps Aaron had always known that. They’d reach a kind of understanding in the caves that this was it. In truth, Aaron didn’t think he himself would live to see tomorrow but he counted on Fred being the instrument in which at least Eve and his son would escape.
Beyond that, nothing else mattered.
************
“We need to break through those defences if we’re going to take that fortress,” Lieutenant Colonel Gideon Bowman said to Elrond as they stood on the other side of the plain from Sauron’s fortress. “They can see us coming the moment we advance.”
“Agreed,” Elrond nodded as he and his human counterpart observed the ramparts and battlements constructed by the enemy. “The field is too open and there are two few of us to charge, at least without horses.”
Gideon cracked a smile despite the situation. He had to remember that he was speaking to someone who hadn’t fought a battle since ancient times and still carrying bows and swords. “We haven’t used horses since the turn of the last century and with guns, its not much use. The horses and the men get cut down rather quickly.”
The Colonel was still wrapping his mind around the fact that was part commander of an attack force that was composed of British Infantry, Special Forces, the French Armée de Terre and elves. Not to mention eagles. When they’d forged this alliance in London, it felt like the unlikeliest thing in the world, bordering on ludicrous really. However, Gideon and the Home Office were quick to recognise the fact that they were ill equipped to face an enemy so ancient it was beyond them to combat it. The timely arrival of the elves had not only saved many lives but also offer some kind explanation to what was happening. Even if it seemed fantastic, the evidence of their own eyes was proof enough of the elves warnings.
“Then what do you suggest?” Elrond asked frowning. The terrain did not lend itself to a covert approach of the fortress and Sauron had ensured that he was prepared for a fight. “The hour grows late and when the sun sets they will be the ones to attack. It is better if we attacked at a time of our own choosing.”
The elf lord made sound decisions and Gideon was quick to agree with him on that point. “We will be ready to move in fifteen minutes,” Gideon answered. He had no doubt that Elrond was right about when the enemy would attack. During their journey across Europe, they’d been at their worst in the twilight. He saw no reason to indicate it would be any different here. “We have the equivalent of a cavalry on the way. It isn’t as large a force as I like but it will definitely give us an edge when we try and cross the plain. However, if you don’t mind, my men should move in first. The ones you call the Uruk are armed with modern weapons and we’re accustomed to that kind of warfare.”
“Perhaps,” Elrond replied, “however, the moment you confront Sauron’s forces, the Nazgul will move to engaged you. They know that men are vulnerable to their Black Breath. They will use it to place your men into dark sleep, if not worse. You know its effects.”
Gideon did. He’d seen what had happened to the ground troops that had tried to confront the monstrous army when it pillaged its way across England and then to Paris. Soldiers had simply collapsed where they stood, unable to fight. The symptoms ranged from unconsciousness to hallucinations and then death. It was part of the reason why their defences had been so quickly overcome and modern medicine had no idea how to combat it.
“I do,” Gideon answered, not about to refute the fact. “That is why we will move in first and you and your elves will cover our rear guard. We are not equipped to fight them. You are. When those Dementor bastards come after us, you need to protect us from them.”
“That sounds like a reasonable request,” Elrond replied, “I think I have an idea of how we can do that.”
************
She never thought she’d miss not having Frank, Legolas or even Bryan at her side as she prepared to go into a fight.
After everything they’d been through, their fellowship had given her a sense of strength and even though she knew she’d manage, Miranda missed them. Miranda knew the division was necessary; Frank needed to keep Sam, Pip and Lori safe by staying behind and Miranda prayed that Bryan and Aaron’s gambit to surrender to Saeran worked. Meanwhile, Legolas and the twins had their own parts to play in the coming battle which left Eric at Miranda’s side.
Even though they were not biologically siblings, she’d felt a strange kinship with the Australian journalist from the first. It took the twins to explain that in the days of Rohan, Eric had been Eomer, King of the Mark and she was his sister. Since arriving at Valinor, that relationship had deepened and now it felt as if they were really brother and sister, even though they both families of their own. She knew that his response to the grief of Jason Merrick’s death was anger and that he still hurt from that loss. She wished she could soothe his grief as easily as she soothed her children’s but knew that the friendship between the two men had been too deep for anything but time to heal.
“You ready for this?” She asked him.
They had taken up position with the rest of the soldiers that were preparing to move on the enemy’s fortifications. Dressed in the same body armour provided to British soldiers, she and Eric had been outfitted by the supplier after they’d joined Elrond. Lt. Colonel Gideon had been happy to have the help, especially after learning that she was former MI6 and she’d vouched for Eric’s abilities in a combat zone to ensure that he wasn’t excluded from the fight ahead. After Jason’s loss, Miranda didn’t think Eric would tolerate being forced to sit out their final confrontation with Saeran and his forces.
“I’m fine,” he replied, glancing at her briefly before he resumed the process of checking his SA80 assault rifle for the umpteenth time. The sergeant who had provided him with the weapon had given him quick instruction in its use and Eric wanted to make sure that he knew how to handle it correctly when the time came. The last thing he wanted was to find out he had the safety on in the middle of a warzone.
His clipped tone gave away the rage that was simmering beneath the seemingly calm facade he was displaying for her benefit and that of those around him. She knew that he wanted revenge for Jason, wanted to return some of the hurt that Saeran had caused, even if he could strike directly at the dark lord himself. It was enough to take his anger out on those who served him.
“Stay close to me,” she replied advised, “we’re outnumbered and possibly outgunned. Even with everyone working together, its going to get ugly.”
“I will,” Eric nodded, grasping the odds they faced already. “I’ll keep my head down if things gets to buggered up.”
Miranda reached for his shoulder and squeezed gently, wanting to reach through the mask of anger to talk to the man. “Eric, I’m so sorry about Jason.” She said softly. “With everything that we’ve been through since England, I know we haven’t talk much about him but I want you to know that Frank and I will never forget what he did. He saved my babies lives and that’s something I can never thank him enough for. They’ll never forget what he did for them. No one will.”
Eric blinked slowly and met her gaze and this time, his intense expression was softer. “This is the first war zone I’ll be going into without him. He was always my lucky charm. Dumb Kiwi kept me out of trouble, saved me from myself. I feel a part of me is missing going into this fight, that he would have wanted to be right there next to me, making sure I didn’t do anything stupid.”
“You don’t have to worry,” Miranda sat patting him on the shoulder. “I won’t let you do anything stupid and even if he’s not here in the flesh, Jason’s still keeping an eye out on you.”
“Bugger that,” Eric shrugged and then cracked a smile. “if he’s lucky, he’s being reincarnated as we speak into Orlando Bloom and Natalie Portman’s love child.”
Miranda was chuckling out loud when she heard the rumbling of engines that sounded nothing like jeeps. The dull drone was soon eclipsed by excited voices and saw that soldiers and elves were pointing at something coming down the hills form the tree line. Miranda could feel the ground reverberating beneath her feet and both she and Eric exchanged a puzzled glance before joining the crowd that had gone to investigate.
It didn’t take more than a few steps forward to see what everyone was talking. Taking in the sight, Eric turned to Miranda with a smile. “I reckon they didn’t have those in Middle Earth.”
************
The trio of Challenger battle tanks crossed the barren plain, leaving a cloud of dust behind each as they rumbled forward.
They had been flown to the battleground on C5 planes out of Fairfield Base in England and dropped off well beyond the sight of the fortress to ensure no attack from the dragons or the Nazgul. Once on the ground, the tanks made a rapid cross count journey across the mountains to join the forces awaiting them. Upon their arrival, a short meeting was conducted to outline the final plan of attack before the tanks were on their way again. This time on route to begin the offensive against the enemy.
To those unfamiliar with them, the tanks appeared to be clumsy, lumbering vehicles that did little to inspire fear as they approached. The single barrel of the cannon perched on top the vehicle swivelled one way or another as if trying to seek out its prey with only one. While it moved somewhat faster than a man on foot, there was not much capacity inside its shell to hold more than a handful of men or elves. It was only when the gun turret took aim at the ramparts did suspicion of its detractors finally turn into the understanding.
The guns fire on all three at almost the same time.
Ejecting their payload in an explosion of deafening sound, the first shell struck its target and obliterated the one of ramparts, sending wood and stone in all directions. Orcs and uruks standing in proximity became part of the fallout, their bodies torn apart by the explosive force. Those weren’t killed immediately found themselves assaulted by raining debris that included pieces of the battlements as well bodies of their fallen comrades. They scattered in all directions as the guns fired again, taking apart another section of wall.
As the tanks started to fire, the trucks that had been used to transport the soldiers to these lands immediately rushed across the landscape, taking advantage of the distraction provided by the tanks. A dozen trucks raced across the parched terrain, each with a 50 calibre gun mounted on the front cabin. Ensuring the way was clear for the approach, the soldier manning the weapon open fired, sending a murderous hail of artillery at the enemy line and limiting their ability to fire.
The Uruks, once recovered from the initial attack, were now returning fire. They were taking refuge inside the fighting holes that they had dug as part of the fortification. Climbing into them, the ground provide cover against enemy gunfire and allowed the Uruks to return in kind. With the shedding of first blood, the Uruks went on the offensive, unleashing an equally devastating barrage at the approaching vehicles. Bullets ricocheted off the thick metal hull of the tanks and across the front of the trucks.
“We’re getting through,” Eric declared as he sat next to Miranda. Even though he couldn’t see what was happening in front of them, the fact that the truck they were in hadn’t stopped was a good sign that they were covering a lot of ground.
“I think we took them by surprise but our advantage isn’t going to last for long. Even if we reach their line, there’s a lot of them waiting for us.” Miranda stated grimly through her concern was not on the orcs and Uruks but rather on something worse. There was no sign of the dragons because they were busily engaging the fighters and a contingent of eagles. However, it wasn’t the dragons she feared.
When she heard that ear piercing scream, the one that made her blood turn cold in her veins, she knew that they soon be facing an enemy worse than Orcs or Uruks. The Nazgul were coming.
************
As the trucks and tanks raced towards the fortress, the Nazgul led by Morgul, flew towards the convoy.
Instead of nine, they were seven. With Khamul and Dwaw on the other side of the world ensuring the most important part of their masters’ plan was carried out, the Nazgul had been absent for the initial strike by the alliance of men and elves. Above the clouds, another battle was already in motion as the cursed flying craft of men, with help from the Great Eagles were facing the dragons. The Nazgul had been aiding this confrontation until they realised that an attack on the ground was underway. Breaking off from the fighting in clouds, Morgul told himself that the dragons would be victorious without the aid of the Nazgul and if they weren’t, Sauron had enough power to destroy their enemies single-handedly.
For now, Morgul intended to smash the offensive of the Alliance into a thousand pieces. Men were weak and the elves were too few to be able to successfully storm the fortress. Now that he and the other Nazgul were intervening directly, he had every confidence that Sauron's forces would win the day. Men had already proven time and time and again, completely vulnerable to Nazgul's black breath and with each attempt to engage their forces since Sauron had returned to Arda, they had been struck down easily, allowing the orcs and spiders to finish them off. It would be no different here.
His only regret lay in the fact that he had no time to single out the Shield Bitch amongst the armies of men. He was convinced she was apart of this attack force. Her fealty to the elves would ensure that she fought at their side. It did not matter, Morgul told himself. By the day's end, he would drag her carcass from among the dead for special treatment. If she was alive, then it would be even better. It was a pity that he did not have time to seek out her children and the reincarnation of Denethor's weaker son. Morgul owed him a similarly agonising death too.
Astride Ghash, he directed Adunaphel and Ren towards the tanks, while the rest of their number flew towards the trucks that were racing towards the fortress’ battlements. He recognised the tactic and realised that the purpose of the tanks was to scatter the front line defences so that the trucks, presumably filled with troops, could reach the fortifications without being cut down if they had attempted a direct approach. However, the numbers were on the side of Sauron's army. He had already ordered Indur to rally the wargs and spiders to come to come down from hills. They would approach the Alliance from the rear and when the orcs and Uruks retaliated, they would be able to outflank their enemy and crush in a ring of steel and teeth.
His mount was almost upon a truck when suddenly, Ghash bucked hard, almost unseating him. Morgul gripped the reins tighter and dug his heels into the creature's flank. The winged beast's flight spiralled out of control and Ghash reared his saurian and let out a bellow of pain. Once Morgul had recovered his wits, he quickly examine the creature to see what had struck his trusted companion and immediately saw the cause.
Protruding from Ghash's dark grey flesh was an arrow of elvish design. An arrow delivered by the bow of the Galadhrim.
************
Kneeling on one knee on the back of a great eagle, one whose name was Telrir, Legolas Greenleaf took aim at the fell beast commanded by Morgul. As Elrond had predicted, the offensive of their Edain allies had compelled the immediate return of the Nazgul who undoubtedly intended to use their dreaded Black Breath. Thus, Elrond had summoned four of the eagles to return from their battle with the dragons so that the elves could engage the Nazgul while the Edain smashed through Sauron's defences.
Next to him, Ariel remained poised with her own bow, preparing for the attack she knew would come. Once the Nazgul were aware of what they were about, they would no doubt respond in kind. Elven balance had served them both well, allowing them to retain their footing while Telrir borne them both into the battle. Ariel raised her eyes to the surrounding sky and saw the other eagles and elves engaging the Nazgul in similar fashion. However, even with four, they were outnumbered and she knew that one of Morgul's brothers would soon come to his aid.
Legolas shot another arrow into Ghash and it struck close to the same place as the first, causing the creature to scream in a fresh about of agony. However, this time, the beast seemed to recover faster and Morgul turned his hooded head at Legolas, fully cognisant of where the attack had come. The Nazgul yanked back the reins of his mount sharply, causing the creature to turn about in mid air and head directly at them. Firing two arrows at once, this time, not at the beast but at Morgul, Legolas knew that while he may not be able to kill the Witch King, he would certainly hurt him.
Morgul reacted swiftly, drawing his blade and deflecting one arrow while moving out of the way in time to avoid being struck by the other. The skill of the Greenleaf was known, particularly in the Third Age during the War of the Ring and Morgul knew that he had to be dealt with. Fortunately, while the eagles carried the elves on their backs, their manoeuvrability was limited and that gave Morgul room to retaliate. Flying straight into the air, Ghash passed by the eagle and positioned itself above it.
Hold on, House of Thranduil, he means to tear you off my back, Telerir warned.
Indeed, even as Telrir made the warning, he saw Morgul's beast soar past them until both were looking down at Ariel and himself.
"Ariel!" He shouted at her over the rush wind. "Hold on tight!"
"What about you?" She demanded, seeing that he was making no such attempt himself.
He didn't answer, instead he armed his bow once more and shot more arrows at the approaching beast. The beast's flapping wings and the wind did much to disrupt his aim but now Morgul was firing arrows of his own and Legolas knew the harm it would cause Telrir if they reached their mark. Drawing his own sword, he ensured that none reached the eagle but the action allowed Ghash to get close enough to put him within reach of its sharp talons. The first swipe cut through his tunic, spilling blood that seemed to send the beast into a frenzy as its attempts to claw at him became frenzied.
Ariel's eyes widened in horror at Legolas staggering back, his chest stained with blood. Without thinking, she was on the move, unsheathing the sword and flinging it with aim deadly and true. The blade flew through the air and sliced through Ghash's skull, stopping only when hilt met bone. The creature convulsed once, its wings flapping erratically like a banner in a strong wind before it went limp and tumbled away.
Morgul's scream of outrage at the death of his beloved pet followed it as they both fell to the earth. Unfortunately, another wraith flew to brother’s aid and caught Morgul before he could join Ghash on the ground.
Ariel hurried to Legolas who had dropped to his knees while he examined the wound across his chest. Judging by the manner in which he regarded it, she suspected that he was not badly injured. Still, seeing him hurt was more than she could stand. For the first time, she understood why he had been so reluctant to see her out in the world, the fear of what harm could come to her would have been more than he could bear after losing Melia in the Fourth Age.
"Prince! Are you alright? You're hurt..." She exclaimed with dismay as she saw the bloody wound beneath the torn fabric.
"I will heal," he assured her and knew that this respite was brief. The Nazgul were far from done. "That was a quite a throw," he complimented, admiring the marksmanship that ended Morgul's mount.
Recovering her composure, she feigned supreme confidence, "Of course, I am a better shot that you."
"Really," he grinned and pulled her close for a quick kiss full of heat and passion. "You'll have to show me."
Suddenly, Telrir's voice spoke in their heads. Forgive the interruption but we do have Nazgul to kill..
************
When she glimpsed the Nazgul overhead, Miranda really thought that Morgul would attempt to satisfy his need for vengeance by coming after her. Fortunately, it appeared that something else had distracted him because his flying...whatever it was...had been hit and the creature had pulled away from the convoy. She spent the rest of the truck’s race to the battlements watching the air battle taking place as the eagles engaged the Nazgul, ensuring the wraiths’ attention was away from the humans. She’d heard what had happened each time armed troops had been confronted by them in London and Europe and guessed that this was their intent when the tanks had started firing.
“Miranda!” Eric called out as he spied the peephole in the back of the truck to see the rapid approach of the line. He walked unsteadily back to her, trying to avoid losing his footing as the back of the truck shook around him as it raced forward. “We’re almost there!”
Miranda nodded and saw the other soldiers getting to their feet and moving to the open back of the truck. As soon as the vehicles stopped, they’d have to get out before they were pinned down by the numbers of the Uruks and orcs. Once they had truly engaged the force guarding the fortress, the other troops that included men and elves could advance to give them reinforcements.
“Remember, stay close,” she ordered again.
This time, Eric took the warning with more than the obligatory nod from a brother trying not to worry his sister. He’d seen Miranda fight and knew she was bloody fearsome in fight or when she set her mind to killing something. Miranda had proved she knew her business and he wasn’t about to question her about it now.
“No worries there,” he assured.
The tanks continued to fire and even though Eric and Miranda didn’t see the destruction first hand, they heard the explosions that followed and continued to send the enemy into disarray. When they reached the first rampart, orcs and Uruks were swarming behind them as the truck delved deep behind their lines. The creatures’ reaction was immediate with the eruption of gunfire behind them. There was a loud thud overhead and the rat-tat-tat rhythm of the machine gun mounted on the top of the truck came to an abrupt halt. A body fell off and over the side of their vehicle and Miranda’s stomach hollowed when she saw the soldier manning the gun left behind in the dirt when he had landed dead.
The soldiers with them start returning fire, emptying entire magazines at the enemy until the truck finally came to a crash stop, probably running into something. Miranda couldn’t see from where she was. It didn’t matter, it was time to get out there. She jumped out with Eric in her line of sight onto the ground and saw that the tanks had done significant damage to the ramparts and were now trying its hand at destroying the fortress. She didn’t think they had that kind of firepower because the tower constructed by Saeran was even more overwhelming now that one was staring at the foot of it. She was sure that it stood taller than Burj Khalifa in Dubai.
In any case, there was no time to ponder the situation because almost immediately, she was avoiding gunfire as the Uruks closed in on them. The soldiers with them had laid down suppressing fire, allowing her and Eric to get out of the truck and run for cover. The truck had come to a stop near the fortress wall, skidding to a diagonal stop that allowed its passengers some measure of shelter when they emerged.
“Come on,” she urged Eric when she hit the gravel and started skirting the edge of the truck to use the cover of the fortress wall to reach a defensible position. Bullets chased them all the way there and Miranda saw other soldiers doing the same. Some took refuge behind the trucks, others sought cover near the tanks and some soldiers claimed some of the ramparts for their own. The sound of gunfire was now all consuming. Grenades were being lobbed, while the tanks continued their assault against the fortress which little success. It was simply too big.
Eric joined her against the side of the truck near the driver’s door. He climbed up the step and peered into the passenger cabin and saw the driver slumped over the wheel. He’d gotten them through but the riddled windscreen revealed what it had cost him to do that. There was no time to mourn the man or honour his sacrifice because bullets were coming through the side window and he felt Miranda tugging down at his belt.
“What part of keep your head down did you not get!” She snapped before moving to the edge of the truck, keeping her head lower as she peered past the snub nose front of the vehicle and started firing her SA80 at a cluster of Uruks who had also taken up position near a battlement of wood and sandbags to assault a group of infantry troops pinned near a tank. As soon as she pulled the trigger, they turn their guns on her and she stepped back hastily, bumping into Eric as she did so.
“What part of keep your head down did you NOT get?” Eric demanded as he tugged her down to avoid taking a head shot.
“They needed cover!” Miranda exclaimed and suddenly the shooting in their direction stopped and the Uruks seemed to turn their attention elsewhere.
“Is it me or did they suddenly just forget us?” Eric asked.
Miranda did not speak, she was staring at him shoulder, wide eyed. He turned around just in time to see a huge behemoth that stood at least twelve feet high swing a massive arm and sent the truck tumbling. Like a child’s toy, the truck rolled over thrice before it came to a stop on it side.
Eric started firing but the damn thing was wearing some kind of cast iron body armour that hung over its shoulders with chain links. Wearing a Greek type helmet that protected its ugly face, it was fully prepared for a fight with bullets. The bullets ricocheted off the armour, impacting on the ground and fortress wall to no ill effect.
“What the hell is that?” Eric managed to gasp as he grabbed Miranda’s hand and prepared to run, convinced he was not about to stay and fight a giant.
“Troll,” Miranda explained and held her ground.
“Trolls?” Eric exclaimed, “there are bloody trolls now? Aren’t they supposed to hide behind bridges or something!” Panic was making him babble.
“Don’t get unhinged on me now!” She declared as the thing advanced on them even as they were pulling back quickly, trying to avoid the gunfire around them. “Shoot the legs!” She ordered and continued to retreat backwards, putting more distance between herself and the beast.
Eric nodded and fired as the tree stump the thing called legs. The bullets that struck the troll seemed more annoyances than injuries and it uttered a growl before lifting up what appeared to be a hammer. Bringing it down on both of them, Eric and Miranda jumped out of its path before it impacted on the ground so hard, they felt the tremor through the sols of their feet. The troll moved with surprising speed and thundered towards Miranda in particular, swinging the hammer once more, preparing to pulverise her bones into dust.
A flash of insight told Eric that this was because of that Nazgul bastard Morgul. He probably told these bastards that he’d buy them a beer or something if they could take out Miranda.
“Hey ugly!” Eric fired at the creature’s back and even though he did nothing to hurt it.
In fact, the bullets bounced off the armour and made him duck because he almost got hit by a stray shot. Worse than that, he found himself noticed by a group of orc hoplites who were soon chucking spears and blades at him. Eric dove behind the barrier formation of sandbags and wood to avoid being hit. Fortunately, it wasn’t occupied and he was able to return fire while at the same time, search frantically for where Miranda might have got to.
Miranda had lost sight of Eric but she had more immediately problems at present.
The troll seemed intent on reaching her and Miranda realised that it was most likely because Morgul had put out some kind of a death warrant on her. The creature was smashing a path to her as it chased her across battle field already rife with bullets, explosions and arrows. Firing at its legs and arms, each time she dared to turn around and face it, the trolls was now bleeding form a dozen wounds but its hide was so thick, she suspected the damage was only superficial.
It was remarkably fast and she wished for the first time, she had a sword or arrows because that might actually have more effect on the thing. It managed to corner her and Miranda made a do or die decision by diving in between its legs and scrambling to her feet behind it. She saw one of the dead orcs near her and raced over to steal the cruel looking spear it apparently never had the chance to throw. She didn’t know what kind of a shot she would be but at this point, Miranda was nearing panic and that was never a good thing to be.
She flung the spear and this time, the weapon managed to pierce the flesh of the creature in the gaps between its armour. The spear dug deep and the troll bellowed in fury, swinging around with the weapon still embedded between its shoulder blades. One hand dangled uselessly but the other had more than enough furry and indignation to throw the giant hammer at her. Miranda jumped out of her way and landed on her hands and knees. Scrambling to get up, she suddenly felt a great weight slam down her back so hard, it forced a cry of pain out of her.
“You can’t run now, can you pretty? I’m going to peel the skin off you...”
Miranda was helpless, she was pinned down like a fly on a board. The force holding her down was beyond her ability to fight.
“Get off my wife!” A new voice suddenly spoke and Miranda’s eyes widened in disbelief. She looked up and saw Frank. Frank was standing there and he was holding a weapon she didn’t recognise. It was neither elvish or human.
“FRANK!” Miranda cried out as the troll pressed down in spite.
Frank gave the creature no other warning then that and fired the weapon. Instead of bullets, gleaming bolts of polished metal flew through the air in rapid session. Each one penetrated the troll’s armour with ease, burying themselves to the hilt. The troll stopped crying out after the third spike impaled him and he staggered backwards, taking the weight off Miranda who quickly crawled away from it on her hands and knees. By the time, Frank exhausted his round of spikes, the troll had tumbled backwards, landing on the ground with a heavy thud.
Miranda stumbled to her feet, hurrying to her husband whom she met with a big hug of gratitude. “Frank! How did you get here? Where are the boys? Where did you get that weapon?” She demanded, uncertain which question she wanted answered first.
Frank kissed his wife, grateful that he’d reached her in time. When he’d arrived on the field of battle, he’d searched her out, certain she would be in the thick of things. However, he had no idea how dire her situation would be. “The boys are fine, they’re safe and so is Lori. When we were waiting in the caves, we ran into some new friends.”
“New friends?” Miranda asked and saw Frank gesturing to the surrounding area. In the distance, just shy of the first ramparts, the terrain had been broken by the emergence of metal objects that she could only describe as some type of subterranean vehicle if the giant drills mounted at the front were any indication. There were so many of them, she could hardly count and they were over flowing with short, spirited men who were joining the battle much to the surprise of the human soldiers and laying waste to the enemy’s forces.
“Are those...” Miranda’s mind grappled with what she were seeing.
“Yes,” Frank nodded as he saw Barra gleefully throwing himself into a mess of orcs, hacking away at them with short swords. “The dwarves are here.”
************
It seemed that everything they had been going through since leaving Valinor had been building up to this moment.
The moment when they’d find themselves face to face with David Saeran aka Sauron former lord of Mordor. After the Uruks ushered them up the short of steps , they stepped unto a windy parapet that was little more than a circular floor without railings of any kind that appeared to be the highest point in the fortress. The wind was lashing at them from this height and all distant sounds were being drowned out by gale. Aaron’s hair immediately plastered itself against his face as he scanned the platform, hoping against hope that Eve was here. Unfortunately, it was only David Saeran, aka Sauron, Lord of Mordor that was in attendance.
He stood with his hands on his back, facing the panoramic view the parapet offered, seemingly unaware that they were there. Until he spoke of course.
“I thought you’d never get here,” Saeran spoke and turned around to face them with a satisfied smile across his face.
Seeing him face to face, ignited the fury and the outrage that Aaron had been keeping in check because of his desperation to reach Eve. After what happened to Tory, he’d been living in fear that when he finally reached his wife, she would be dead too. He didn’t want to find her as Bryan found her. Pale and cold, on the sand. Unfortunately, Fred had revealed to him that Saeran had not been that kind to Eve during her imprisonment.
With stolen powers, Saeran had subjected Eve to the worst kind of torture, reaching into her womb to manipulate the baby inside her into growing at an unnatural rate. What should have taken months had instead taken days and he couldn’t even begin to imagine what was in her mind as her body changed at the whim of a dark lord’s desire. No doubt the bastard would have used the baby as a means to break Eve. The thought of her wonderfully brave and spirited will being broken into a thousand pieces made Aaron want to kill Saeran for just that alone.
“Where’s Eve and my son, you fucking maniac?” Aaron growled and lunged forward. He never wanted to kill anything as much as he did that evil son of a bitch.
Not thinking about the consequences at hurtling himself at such a completely overwhelming enemy, Aaron had taken no more than a step when suddenly he lost all control of his limbs. It was like the life was drained out of them and he hit the floor hard, his knees first and then the rest of him. The cold, obsidian tiles cracked against his jaw and he was laid out, flat against the floor. Behind him the Uruks who had made an attempt to grab him when he had gone after their master, retreated into the background again.
“DOC!” Bryan shouted when he saw Aaron go down and supposed he should have expected the doctor to do something stupid. The man had been holding himself back all the way from Valinor and it was only a matter of time that all the frustration vented itself. Bryan took a step forward when he felt Uruk hands clamp on his shoulder, ensuring he was going nowhere.
Fred however, reacted by squeezing his hand. He gazed down at the little girl and she gave him a smile of comfort, trying to reassure him that everything would be alright. Bryan wished he could believe her.
“Now, now,” Saeran approached Aaron on the floor and dropped to his haunches, hovering his mouth above Aaron’s ear, he taunted, “is that anyway for a new father to behave? What will your son think? He’s a quite a little boy, I haven’t decided what I’m going to name him yet. Maybe his mother and I will choose a name together.”
“You fucking bastard!” Aaron spat, helpless and impotent in the face of the man’s cruelty.
With an even more malicious tone, Saeran replied, “Not yet but I intend to be.”
Aaron let out a furious cry of anguish that resembled the wounded howl of animal. “I will kill you, you bastard,” he warned, his voice breaking with empty resignation. “If you touch them I will kill you!”
“Why don’t you just kill us?” Bryan demanded, wanting to draw Saeran’s attention away from tormenting Aaron. Every word that Saeran spoke made it clearer and clearer what he need to do and what doubt there had been his mind before now, was finally washed away. “You’ve got your war, you’ve got your beasties fighting for you. You’ve got Eve and the baby, you’ve taken your revenge on me already, why prolong this? Are you that pathetic, you need audience?”
Saeran shot him a look of ice and immediately stood up, his eyes narrowing as he fixed his intense gaze on Bryan.
“So nice to see you Bryan,” Saeran said coolly. “Did you get my message from the lovely Miranda? How does the lady keep? Is she here too? Morgul will be delighted."
The bastard was trying to bait him, Bryan recognised the tactic and refused to let himself been drawn into the same trap that Saeran had caught Aaron. He refused to let the dark lord get the satisfaction of seeing his pain as obviously as he’d relished seeing in Aaron.
“So you killed Tory. You hurt a defenceless woman who was no threat to you whatsoever except her bad luck of loving me. You want to hurt me, you’ve done that. Why don’t you just kill me, get it over and done with? You’ve taken everything I care about from this world. Why play these childish games?”
“Not everything,” Saeran returned coldly. “You still have your brother and his family. You still have her,” he gloated turning his gaze to Fred. “You forget Bryan, I can tell what’s left that gives you hope, I can see inside your soul.”
“As I can see into yours Mairon,” Fred spoke finally.
For the first time, Bryan saw Saeran’s supremely confident mask, waver.
The dark lord forgot the other two prisoners and lowered his gaze to the young face staring at him. He knew that this child was the reincarnation of Frodo Baggins, the little hobbit that against all odds had destroyed him in the Third Age. However as he studied her now, he realised that something was wrong. The others were like an open book to him. Their emotions poured out of them like an overflowing river. He could read all of it. But this girl, this girl he couldn’t read. In fact, where she was standing, he was registering emptiness, almost as if she didn’t exist at all. Like a null space in the middle of his consciousness.
“Who are you?” He questioned, convinced she wasn’t Fred. Not the Frederica Bailey that he’d last encountered.
“How far you have fallen Mairon.” .
Her words felt like lashes and he took a step back from her. He was certain he’d trapped all of the Valar behind the curtain of dimensions. Could he have missed one? Could one of them have escaped? Could all of them? Manwë perhaps?
“Don’t call me that. That is not my name,” Saeran bite back, his voice losing some of its earlier bluster.
His distraction released Aaron from whatever binding spell had gripped the doctor. Aaron got to his feet and kerbed his desire to attack Saeran because it appeared that Fred was finally making her move. At least he thought it was Fred. He retreated next to Bryan and both men exchanged glances at what was happening before returning their focus on the confrontation unfolding before them.
“It is your true name,” the girl continued to speak. “Melkor’s corruption made you forget it. You were called Mairon the Admirable. Remember?”
“I don’t need to remember!” Saeran hissed but he did remember. He remembered everything. How it felt be so young and naive, to think that the world could shaped on good intentions and hope. How quickly he had learned that to fix the discord planted by Melkor in the Great Music, an iron hand was needed and the will to do what no one else would do.
“Of all of the Ainur, you were the one who surprised the most,” Fred continued to speak. “Melkor was prideful even in the Timeless Halls but you were not. You were so filled with ideas even then. Your chord was bold and distinct, so full of promise and yet still in harmony with the others. This world that was born, part of that was you, don’t you know? You’ve spent your entire existence trying to create order so that those ideas could be realised. You wanted to make Ea great, not for yourself but because you appreciated order and you could see potential. I am sorry that no one stopped Melkor from deceiving you.”
“WHO ARE YOU!” Saeran shouted at Fred who was unfazed by the action, treating the dark lord as if he were a child throwing a tantrum. “I was no one’s puppet. I always knew what had to be done! I was strong enough to make it happen, I wasn’t slave to all the rules that the others were. Melkor never had to manipulate me into doing anything! I chose my own fate.”
“Indeed you have, you have changed Dagor Dagorath. You usurped Melkor. No one expected that. You destroyed him and removed his chord from the music that is to come. Everything has changed and its all because of you.”
Saeran let out a heavy sigh and it seemed to Bryan and Aaron that at last, he understood who it was he was facing. He maintained his pride, raised his chin in defiance and spoke in an almost sedate voice. “You abandoned us. You unleashed us upon Ea and then chose to act only at your convenience. All of us were born of your thoughts, you had the ultimate design for the theme you wished us to sing. Why didn’t you fix Melkor’s mess? You’ve done nothing and you’ve let his folly fester until all of creation has become tainted. You’ve let your toys destroy this planet. Children of Ilúvatar indeed. You think I will ruin Arda? I am cleansing it, riding it of man so that we can start again, with something a little less destructive.”
“Oh my God,” Aaron whispered, understanding at last. “You’re Eru Ilúvatar.”
And it didn’t surprise Bryan, not at all. Somehow, he knew. He’d always known.
“That has never been your choice to make Mairon,” Fred continue to speak. “One hundred thousand years ago, I separated Aman and Arda, allowing the elves to live apart from men so both could find their own way. I commanded Aule to put the dwarves to sleep for the same reason. I wanted to see what would come about, if the discord in the Great Music could be healed without interference from the Valar or Maia.”
“And instead, they’ve brought Arda to the brink of annihilation.” Saeran spat. “Your style of parenting leaves a lot to be desired.”
“Then come back to the fold, help us create a Second Great Music. Dagor Dagorath no longer binds us. You changed that. You alone had the will to change it. Not even I expected that. You chord is strong as it ever was. Sing it with us Mairon, help us build Ea greater than it was ever was.”
“Wait, wait, what does that mean?” Aaron spoke up for the first time, wondering if he was going to be smitten to all hell because he’d just interrupted...well God. “Does that mean you’re going wipe out everything?”
“That’s exactly what it means!” Saeran snapped. “Wipe out everything and start again. You think what I’m going to do is bad? Everything that you know will end. Your son will never see another dawn!”
“Maybe it should end,” Bryan declared, looking at Aaron. “He’s right. One hundred thousand years and all we’ve got to show for it is better ways of killing each other. Without him,” Bryan glanced at Saeran briefly, “or Melkor, we’ve managed to kill billions. We never understand until its too late and then we never remember we did once before.”
With a sigh because these were matters beyond him but what was unfolding, some truths needed to be said. He had nothing to lose now. Turning away from Aaron he placed his hands on Fred’s shoulders and continued speaking, “Maybe you thought you were giving us a chance to be our own people when you sent the elves and the dwarves away but you were wrong. We needed them as much as they needed us. Our lives are like candles, we don’t last. The elves they could have taught us, could have reminded us of what came before so we didn’t keep making the same mistakes. Them and dwarves could have shown that we didn’t own this world, we just lived in it. We couldn’t hang about destroying everything in sight because we thought it belonged to us. I don’t know what’s the right answer but if you’re going to do it all again, you need to remember what came before too.”
Fred’s reaction was not one of anger but of affection. “Son of Gondor, you were always far wiser than you gave yourself credit. What came before will not be forgotten or easily discarded. The Second Great Music will come and it will change everything but it will not be in the way that any of you imagine. There will not be destruction but rejoicing.”
Fred then turned back to Saeran. “Come back to us Mairon, you were my favourite not because of your chord but because of all my children, you were the one who carved your own fate. Melkor was vainglorious but you wanted to make something better. You made a choice to that no one else would have considered. You dared to defy what was written to realise your dream of perfection. I do not forgive your mistakes but I admire the reasoning that led you to make them.”
“Come back to the fold just like that?” Saeran stared at Fred incredulously. “And I suppose when I get there, you will lock me up in the deepest part of the Abyss in the Timeless Hall?”
“No,” Fred shook her head. “I want you to be part of the Second Great Music, I want to hear your chord, as it was before Melkor ruined the first song. I believe it is still in you, that all this bloodshed and cruelty, is the only course left to you to make it heard once more. The Second Great Music needs to be bold, it needs your love of industry and science to make it complete. Come back to us Mairon, come back to us.”
“No!” Saeran exploded, unmoved by the entreaty. “Its a trick. I will not go! Are you prepared to end the life in this body Eru? Are you? This isn’t like the sinking Numenor. If you wish me to be apart of the Second Great Music, you will have to rip me from this body and I do not think you will do that.”
“She doesn’t have to,” Bryan said and bolted forward so quickly that no one realised he was doing it in until he slammed into Saeran and was propelling them both backwards.
“BRYAN!” Aaron screamed helplessly as he saw them both tumble over the edge of the parapet.
What power Saeran had to halt Aaron’s advance earlier did not seem to effect him and Bryan guessed as they fell that Eru was responsible for that. He felt the rush of air around him, saw the battle of dragons and fighter planes, saw the elves, dwarves and men working together, saw strange vehicles that didn’t look like they belonged to Saeran or his monsters. Mostly, he heard the rushing of wind. He heard Saeran struggling in his grip, heard the man screaming that this wasn’t going to change a thing, that Tory was still dead and he was going to die for nothing. He didn’t hear any of it. All he knew was this was about redemption, not just his but for Boromir of Gondor.
And finally it was also about revenge.
“Now,” he whispered in Saeran’s ear as the ground loomed closer. “Now we’re even.”
The instant that Sauron tumbled off his fortress, the Nazgul knew their lord was in danger.
Legolas watched in confusion as the Nazgul suddenly broke off their aerial battle with the elves and flew immediately toward the fortress. The situation was far too reminiscent of the moments preceding the fall of the dark tower at Bara-dur when the One ring was cast into the fires of Mount Doom. The Nazgul had raced away desperately to reach Frodo Baggins who had somehow managed to enter Mordor and reach the only place the ring could be destroyed permanently.
“Telrir! Do not let them get away!” Legolas ordered. “If they race to their master’s call then something has gone wrong”
Then hold tight, Son of Thranduil for we fly hard.
“It will be done,” he answered and turned to his wife. “Ariel!”
“I heard!” She replied, already crouching down lower against the eagle’s back, clutching the soft, golden feathers as hard as she could.
Legolas did the same and as he leaned down, noticed that Telrir had passed a similar message to the other eagles because as the Nazgul tried to escape, they were quickly intercepted. Telrir swooped down on the Nazgul he was pursuing, his powerful talons bared as he worked to unseat the enemy from his mount. The Nazgul pulled out his blade, ready to attack when Legolas pulled armed his bow and fired a haphazard shot from over Telrir’s wing. He was mindful of Telrir’s warning but he was also conscious of the great harm a Nazgul’s blade could do to Telrir if struck true.
The arrow flew downwards and struck the Nazgul dead centre. The dark creature screeched because elven blessed arrows would burn and he stumbled back in his saddle before tumbling over the side. He fell to the earth in a billowing cloak of black. Once Legolas had removed the rider, he retreated back next to Ariel.
“What do you think has happened?” She asked.
“I do not know,” Legolas answered, unable to shake the feeling that something terrible had happened.
Meanwhile, now that the Nazgul was unseated, Telrir renewed his attack with ruthless savagery, grappling the winged beast with his razor sharp claws and then pecking at its elongated throat with his equally formidable beak. Legolas and Ariel held for dear life as the two creatures fought each other, keeping their head down as wing and tail clashed against each other like duelling swords. The two elves felt as if they were caught in a hurricane as the two beast fought. As each creature wounded each other, the elves could feel Telrir's pain as its own feathers became stained with blood.
Finally, it was the winged beast that yielded as black blood ran dark rivulets down its serpentine throat when it finally ceased its struggles. The creature plunged to the ground below, its body lifeless and limp. Legolas watched its descent and then scanned the sky for the efforts of the other eagles. Other battles similar to the one that Telrir had fought continued. Eagle and serpent battled for dominance as Telrir's message to his brothers ensured that no Nazgul could go to its master's call.
Legolas tried not to think what that mind mean for Aaron, Bryan and Fred and forced the dark fears from his thoughts. Once Aragorn had chose to let Frodo continued the quest to destroy the ring alone, despite the reservations of his heart and it had proved to be the correct decision. Legolas had to believe that he had done the right thing by standing by and allowing the three to surrender themselves to Sauron's forces. Besides, there was still much to be done.
"Set us down Telrrir," Legolas said quickly, able to feel the great bird's pain and wanted to ease its burden somewhat. "You are hurt."
I am Greenleaf but I can still fight, Telrir assured him.
"Set us down nonetheless," Legolas returned, stroking the bird's feathers soothingly, as if he could will his own grace into Telrir's body. Here was a wind lord older than time, Manwe's own messenger and he had done well this day. "The Nazgul may not be able to reach their master quickly but they will still try from the ground. We must stop them."
"Yes," Ariel nodded as she saw other Nazgul and their mounts falling to the ground in defeat. "We still need to protect the Edain from them."
As you will, Telrir spoke and began the descent to the battlefield.
************
Eric had thought he'd seen everything. However as he and a number of mystified soldiers watched the swarm of dwarves (yes dwarves) come out of nowhere to help them, he decided that he'd never see an end to the wonder of the ancient world he'd stumbled into. They were shorter than humans, the tallest of them being perhaps five foot but no more than that. However, it was clear that these dwarves were not the product of a genetic aberration. They appeared to be as normal as any full size person, save for their stature.
Dressed in dark leathers and skins, with designs that sat comfortably between the Victorian period and the 1930s, they launched themselves into the fight with a ferocity that rivalled their enemy. Their weapons were also unusual, ranging from swords, axes and to more sophisticated projectile weapons that shot metal bolts of incredible strength judging how easily they penetrated the thick armour won by the trolls.
Crouched behind an upturned truck, possibly the same one that had been flipped over by the troll that went after Miranda earlier, Eric and a group of British Special Forces soldiers were unleashing a deadly volley of gunfire and grenades at the enemy. The air was thick with dust and even though night was creeping across the sky, the heat from all the weapons firing had made the temperature warm and uncomfortable. Eric had lost sight of Miranda and wanted to break off and find her but he'd been driven to this refuge by Uruk-Hai fire.
Poking his head past the edge of the truck, he emptied another magazine into a group of Uruks that were advancing on their position. He'd learned quickly that the creatures were violent and strong but also unintelligent. Their goal was to destroy anything in their path although it seemed that strategy was not their strong suit. They simply ran blindly into death, displaying foolhardy courage. Still, their numbers were considerable and every time they were put down, more of them appeared to take the place of their fallen comrades.
The Uruks he was firing upon scattered, taking cover behind anything that might provide a respite from gunfire. One of the soldiers beside him, a lieutenant named Tomlinson, tossed a grenade into the thick of them. The grenade fell to the ground with an audible thud before an explosion followed, raining the area with dirt and pieces of Uruk Hai.
As the dust cleared, Eric crept out from behind the vehicle to see it was safe to move when suddenly a golden haired dwarf who was wearing dark skins that made him look like something out of an old serial, came out of nowhere to greet them. Strapped to his was a scabbard holding a sword while he himself was clutching a formidable looking battle axe in his hand. "Come on then! They've got reinforcements coming from the hills."
"Reinforcements?" Tomlinson who joined Eric was quick to demand, "Where?"
"Behind us," the dwarf retorted gesturing in the direction past ruined ramparts. "Spiders and wargs."
"What the fuck is warg?" One of the other soldiers behind Eric asked bewildered and sounding just a little overwhelmed by all the supernatural creatures that was joining the battle.
"Think of a wolf the size of a cow," the dwarf said helpfully before running off, no longer content to explain any more to the humans if they were going to just stand around. "Gwere! Come on!"
His call enlisted more than just one dwarf as three more appeared jumped out of a fighting hole, their weapons dripping with dark blood. "We're behind you Finnan!" One of them called out after they clambered over the edge back to ground level. Without hesitation, they were hurried after their comrade.
Eric didn't need any more prompting than that. Truth be told, the dwarves gung-ho demeanour gave him wounded spirit a well needed boost. They knew what to be done and were getting into it and right now, with the hurt Eric wanted to dispense to the enemy, it was an infectious mood. Throwing a glance at the soldiers, he declared, "Listen mate, I don't know what you lot are doing but I'm going with these blokes. If something is sneaking up on us, I saw we give them a surprise?'
"Too right!" A voice called out in agreement from the group. "Let's show those ugly fuckers how its done!"
"Yeah! Come on Sir!" Someone else threw in as well.
Tomlinson, who knew when he was fighting a losing battle, shrugged and broke into a grin. "Right lads, let's go hunting! I always wanted to shoot a wolf the size of a cow..."
************
"How could you let him do it?" Frank exploded after Miranda opportunity to explain to him how Bryan, Aaron and Fred had surrendered themselves to Sauron.
"There was no other way we were going to get close to the bastard," Miranda declared, feeling the guilt she had suppressed at having let them surface with swift ferocity. The decision hadn't sat well with her but at the time, it didn't seem like they had any other choice. Now that Frank knew what had happened, Miranda found it difficult to defend the decision to him or to herself.
"Maybe it was but didn't you see it in his eyes?" Frank demanded, "he doesn't plan on making it out of this alive! With Tory gone, he doesn't think he's got anything to lose!"
Miranda did see and she also suspected as much. However, she could no more deny Bryan the freedom to make the choice any more than she could deny it to herself if it were the either of her children's lives were at stake. Both she and Bryan had been trained to make the sacrifice for the greater good if necessary.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, trying make him see that she hadn't made the choice lightly. "You know as well as I do, how stubborn he is when it comes to these things. Do you really think I could have stopped him?"
Frank swore under his breath, mostly in frustration at the brother who wasn't here for him to take his anger out on then at her words. Of course, Miranda was right. If Bryan had made the choice to go, there was nothing in heaven or earth that could change his mind. On the way here, he'd seen Bryan taking the chance to put his affairs in order. Maybe this was Bryan's way of finding Tory again.
In the middle of the battlefield, with so many dying around him, all could Frank could think of was his brother.
Until the sound of a Nazgul's terrifying screech chased all other thoughts from his mind.
Both he and Miranda exchanged glances and spun around, trying to discern from where the sound was coming. The spine chilling cry had managed to make the sound of exploding artillery and gunfire seem distant and tame. Miranda was standing ramrod straight, her eyes scanning the battlefield, searching for the Nazgul who had uttered that scream whose sole purpose, Frank had learned, was to put the fear in men's hearts. Elves were immune to its power because the elves didn't scare them.
It didn't take long for the Nazgul appeared. The dark robed wraith was cutting a swathe through the soldiers that was unfortunate enough to get in its way. Miranda stared at Sauron's trusted servants and debated what was to be done. If Saeran had summoned his servants then it could not bode well for Fred, Bryan and Aaron. She hadn't wanted to admit to Frank that she was more frightened for the little girl with the sad eyes than she was of the MI6 agent who might have gotten it into his head to die.
"Frank we've got to stop that bastard," she turned to her husband. "Its heading straight for the fortress and there's only one reason for that."
Frank nodded in understanding. The wraith hadn't had yet seen them which was fortunate, but it was clear that the creature had a purpose for the direction he was taking. "Fair enough but its not like the last time. I don't have a simaril to shove down that thing's throat and its at full strength now."
"I have an idea," Miranda after a moment's consideration. "You might not like it."
************
Morgul's painful descent to the ground was halted when Adunaphael had spirited him away on his winged beast to make answer Sauron's call. However, the bastard elves had intercepted them with the eagles and Adunaphael's steed had been injured. The beast couldn't carry them both and so Morgul had been set down before his brother resumed the race to reach their master. Alone, he had set out for fortress on foot and realised as he reached the ruined fortifications constructed around it, that it was not merely men and elves who were fighting Sauron's army. It seemed the long absent dwarves had selected a most inopportune time to make their return.
It mattered little, he thought, the masters power was at its zenith. If the tide turned too much against them, Morgul had ever confidence that Sauron could defeat the enemy all singlehandedly.
As he marched into thick of the battle, the human soldiers who encountered him made some pitiful attempt to slay him. As if their crude weapons were any match for the Witch King, with his dreaded Nazgul scream and Black Breath. The ones who had not scattered when they heard his scream had succumbed to the Black Breath and had collapsed helplessly to the ground while orcs closed in and hack them to pieces. Morgul could sense Sauron's fury but his master's power had not waned. If anything, it was stronger than ever. It burned like a sun in Morgul's consciousness with a purity that was almost distasteful.
Suddenly, something struck him in the back. Something sharp that made him sway and stagger on his feet. While the Nazgul couldn't be killed or destroyed easily, they did feel pain and when he reached behind him, he felt the smooth finish of a metal bolt protruding from his lower back. Uttering a growl of fury, Morgul tore the thing out of with a grunt before swinging around, his hands reaching for his infamous blades.
In retrospect, he should not have been surprised who was facing him down.
"Where did you think you're going?" Miranda asked almost mischievously, carrying the dwarf weapon that Frank had saved her with earlier.
"Shield Bitch...." Morgul hissed and then tossed aside the mithril bolt covered in his dark blood against the ground, staining the dirt.
Miranda's eyes narrowed. "Morgul is that you?" She continued to smirk, prompting him forward. "I can never tell you lads apart. Maybe you should try wearing different colours, you know, like the Wiggles?"
Taunting him was dangerous, Miranda knew that but she needed to hold his attention. This plan she had concocted with Frank would work no other way. Watching his advance closely, she was ready to react to any attack he launched at her. She was conscious of the swords he was carrying, one long and one short. Both deadly. The elves had told her a bit about Morgul in Valinor. She knew that her original incarnation had almost died from being pierced by one of them. She hadn't realised that it was Morgul she'd be engaging when she devised this plan but the fact that it was Morgul made it easier. The others didn't have a personal vendetta against her; Morgul didn't just want to kill her, he wanted her entire family and like Bryan, there was nothing she wouldn't do to keep them safe.
"That dwarf weapon isn't going to save you this time!" Morgul glared at her aware that he shouldn't be indulging this. However, his desire for revenge against this female was almost as strong his devotion to his Master. Rushing forward, he swung his blade at her, his cloak swirling around him like dark smoke.
He was astonishingly fast and Miranda barely side stepped the broadsword that whooshed past her as she turned around as he ran past, pulling the trigger on the bolt gun. Miranda fired the dwarf weapon and a deadly spike flew towards the Lord of the Nazgul who spun around and swatted it with the expert flick of the shorter weapon. It bounced off the dark metal of his sword with a loud clink before landing harmlessly in the ground.
With the expertise of an experienced swordsman, he jabbed the broadsword at her again and Miranda stumbled backwards, losing her footing. She went down into the dirt on her rump and looked up just as he was ready to bring the blade down on her head. She rolled across the dirt, still holding the bolt gun and fired once again. The spike struck him on the shoulder and he cursed at her.
"What will you do when that weapon is exhausted?" He sneered, showing how little he was effected even with a spike jutting out of his shoulder. "You are and always been just a woman. Good only for the rutting. You were lucky the last time. "When I am done with you, I will drive this spike through your eye so the last thing you'll see is your children before I feed them to the orcs!"
"You talk too much," Miranda snapped, retreating on her haunches, wanting to put distance between them even those he was stomping towards her. She forced herself to remain untouched by his gruesome threats to her children. Stick to the plan, she told herself when suddenly, something caught her attention and she halted her retreat, staying put for the moment as Morgul glared down at her. It was imperative that she did not run.
"Too bad you'll never get the change to see my children!" Miranda spat at him before shouting on the top of her lungs. "NOW!"
Miranda scrambled to her feet, not waiting to see Morgul turning around. She discarded her weapon behind her and just kept running.
"Welcome to the 21st century, you fucking Dementor knockoff!" Frank Miller growled and pulled the trigger on the RPG 32 that Miranda had shown him how to use. The portable rocket launcher fired its payload at the Witch King. The missile struck Morgul dead centre that exploded in a fiery ball of flame that consumed the wraith whole. There was a scream, very different from the banshee's wail that had frightened so many both in the Third Age and in recent days. Frank thought he might have seen the shape of a man in the flame but he couldn't be sure. When the fireball died out, there was nothing left behind. Not even the Nazgul's dark cloak.
"Miranda," Frank called out, "where are you?"
Miranda was standing on mound of rubble, the wind blowing at her hair. She was staring at something he couldn't see and when he called her, she turned to him. Her face full of grief, like Hecuba watching the ruin of Troy. There were tears running down her cheeks and his stomach hollowed seeing her like that. Frank bolted forward, his heart pounding. Suddenly, the victory against the Nazgul felt like ash in his mouth.
When Miranda saw his approach, she hurried down the mound and intercepted him. Her hands clutching his cheeks as she looked into his eyes, her sorrow apparent. "Baby, you don't want to see this."
Frank's eyes widened, her grief telling him the terrible truth she didn't want him to see. He broke free and ran forward shouting, "BRYAN!"
************
Standing at the edge of the parapet, Aaron stared down and tried to find Bryan. Unfortunately, he was so high up it was near impossible. He stood there, almost shaking with anguish and fury, still reeling with shock at what Bryan had done. In retrospect, he should have known that this was Bryan had always intended. That for the second time, he was going to catch the tiger by the tail no matter what the consequences.
“Why?” He turned around finally and demanded of Fred. “Why did you let him do this?”
Behind them both, the Uruks were unsettled by what had happened. They were jabbering at each other, fighting their brutish instincts to attack because they had seen how the little girl had frightened their master and if Sauron himself could feel fear, then they had good reason for caution.
Fred did not answer Aaron immediately. She faced the Uruks and spoke simply, “leave us now or suffer as your master’s fate.”
One of the Uruks took a step forward but froze when the girl’s eyes flashed bright like dwarf stars. The warning in them was enough and they retreated from the parapet, growling in impotent outrage at being dismissed so summarily but too afraid to remain. Once they were gone, Fred returned to Aaron’s question.
“It could be no other way. Bryan’s sacrifice has forced Sauron to abandon his mortal shell. Sauron knew that I gave men free will beyond the Music of the Ainur. As long as he remained within the body of man, I would not act. Now I can do what is necessary to bring this to and end.”
“There should have been another way,” Aaron whispered, inconsolable. “I should have been the one to do it. Its my wife and my son that was in danger.”
“And that’s exactly why he knew he had to be the one to do it. Do not question his gift Aaron. It was well done of him. Honour him for that.”
Aaron agreed but with heavy heart because his bond with Bryan went beyond the legacy of Aragorn and Boromir. Next to Eve and Tory, Bryan had been a kindred spirit, a human in Valinor, trying to fight disbelief to appreciate this incredible world he had stepped into. Bryan had been his friend.
“Come forward Aaron,” Fred asked and the command in her voice made prevented his refusal. He was very aware that even though it was Fred standing in front of him, Aaron knew that it was Eru Ilúvatar speaking. Eru, the architect of creation. God. He approached her and leaned down. Fred extended her arm and reached out to brush his forehead with her middle and index finger.
Aaron jerked back as images flooded his mind. The interior layout of the fortress suddenly filled every corner of his consciousness. He staggered back, the information overload making him dizzy. Flashes of corridors, stairways, rooms and windows appeared in his mind, moving like a hasty clip show in his head. Aaron dropped to his knees, trying to regain his composure but to no avail. He didn’t know how long it lasted. It felt like hours when it was probably only seconds. He remembered how Gandalf had infused Tory’s brain with all knowledge of Middle Earth when they had needed her belief to get her help. Fortunately, unlike that episode, Aaron didn’t fall unconscious and after a minute or so, he felt the information in his head stabilising.
And when it all settled, Aaron’s eyes widened in shock. He could see Eve in a room with their son in her arms, looking out the windows, trying to see what was happening. Aaron stared at Fred, realising what it was the child or rather Eru had done.
“I have one more duty to ask of you Aaron,” Fred said. “And then you should find your family and leave this fortress for it will be not be standing for long.”
“Anything you want,” Aaron answered gratefully, his voice choked with emotion. In an instant, Eru had given him the ability to navigate Saeran’s fortress to find Eve.
“This child has been through much,” Eru replied and Aaron realised that the deity was talking about Fred. “See to it that she is hurt no more.”
“I promise you on the life of my wife and child,” Aaron said with the intensity of a man making a sacred vow. “She will have a family that will love her for as long as I live. “
His answer satisfied Eru who gave him a little smile on Fred’s lips before the little girl’s body straightened up with a jerk, her neck thrown back so hard, Aaron thought it might snap. An explosion of light so bright and fierce, like someone had aimed a powerful strobe into sky, escaped Frederica Bailey’s body and streaked into the air. The clouds parted beneath her and Aaron had to shield his eyes to avoid being blinded by the glare. When the powerful force of Eru’s essence had abandoned her, the little girl collapsed on the floor, unconscious.
Aaron wasn’t sure what was going to happen next but as he hurried over to her and swept Fred into his arms, he knew only one thing for certain; to do as Eru had asked and get his family out of there.
************
When he saw Miranda’s anguished expression as she stared at him, pity and despair in her eyes, Frank knew that the worst had happened. In reality, something inside him had known that this was ultimately how it was going to end for his brother. Bryan had so much as said it to him outright. Frank just hadn’t wanted to listen.
It became painfully clear why the Nazgul had been so desperate to reach their master when he raced up the mound Miranda was standing on. He bolted down the slope, half blinded with denial and refusal to see what was right in front of his eyes. As he skidded to his knees across the crater that had been carved into the ground from the impact of two people falling from a great height, he didn't see the blood or the broken bodies waiting for him. Instead, he saw the big brother who had walked him home from school his first day, who’d taken the blame when he broke their mum's favourite vase and years later introduced him to his wife.
Bryan was lying across the body of a man Frank didn’t recognise but knew to be David Saeran even without being told. In fact, the events that led him to this moment, replayed in his mind without his needing to be present to know was the how it had unfolded exactly. Frank was certain however it had played out ultimately, this was exactly where Bryan had always intended to be. Maybe this was how his brother had envisioned his revenge on Saeran when they’d left Valinor. Certainly, it was in his mind when he surrendered himself along with Aaron Stone and Fred Bailey.
Dragging Bryan’s lifeless body off Saeran, Frank wept openly as he cradled Bryan in his arms. He hardly register the blood that was seeping into his clothes, the heavy metallic stench of it in his nostril or the sickly sound Bryan’s broken body made he rocked back and forth. The stomach turning grinding of shattered bones he could hear through his sobs threatened to overwhelm and make him retch. However what resulted instead was a scream of fury and exasperation.
Miranda jumped at his anguished cry and found herself weeping harder for his pain and for Bryan’s loss. His sorrow was an open wound and it sent her running towards him, desperate to take him in her arms and chase away the hurt she knew she could not really. Instead, she did what she could and hugged him from behind, her own tears coming harder as she held him as tightly as he held the big brother who had also been her friend.
"Why did he do it?" Frank demanded in despair. "Why did he sacrifice himself like that? Didn't he know there were still people left who loved him? We would have found another way?”
Miranda didn’t know how to answer him because she shared the same mindset as Bryan and she understood that if he had done this, there would have been no other way. If it wasn’t Bryan that made the sacrifice, someone else would have to eventually. Swallowing thickly, she tried to think of an answer that would make sense to Frank, that would ease his pain a little if not at all.
“He did it because he loved us," she spoke softly into his ear. "Because he knew this was our best chance to survive this."
Behind them, Legolas and Ariel approached slowly. Next to him, Ariel’s hand flew to her mouth to conceal the gasp of surprise and horror that nearly escaped her when she saw who it was that was being cradled in Frank’s arm. Legolas maintained his composure a little better but not by much. When he had heard that outraged cry of pain, he had known instantly something terrible had come about and had raced forward hoping to get there in time.
But it was a race already lost.
After Telrir had set them down, the great eagle had rejoined the ranks of his brothers to fight the Nazgul in the air. Legolas and Ariel had joined the elves that were on the ground and like the rest of the First Born, were astonished to see that the Alliance had gained a new ally. For the first time since he’d said his final goodbye to Gimli in Valinor, Legolas found himself facing a dwarf. The dwarf who introduced himself as Gwere was a good deal prettier than Gimli had been and was dressed in fashion that was a mixture of the Fourth Age and the more present one of men. It also seemed that they were more inclined to forget the prejudices of old although Gwere had told him to get a move on, there was orcs to kill.
Apparently, not everything about them had changed.
Nevertheless, his elation in knowing the dwarves had returned to the world was short lived when he realised what it was that had sent the Nazgul into such a desperate flight to reach their master.
From afar, he saw two bodies tumbling from a great height off the highest tower of Sauron’s new fortress. He knew without doubt that one of those was Saeran. However, he could not tell for certain who was the other. In desperation, he and Ariel had fought their way through the orcs and Uruks trying to reach the two, even if secretly he knew that there he knew there was nothing to be done. He could not fly to stop their fall and the eagles were too far away now to hear his call.
Frank was still cradling Bryan's dead body when he and Ariel neared. Legolas felt his emotions reach up from the depths of him to choke the air from his lungs. This was too reminiscent of how he and Gimli had come upon Boromir at Parth Galen. Only it was Aragorn who was weeping for the loss, not Frank.
Their sorrow however was suddenly interrupted when one sound like an explosion erupted in the sky above them. Everyone looked up and saw something rising from the top of the tower, a column of brilliant white light of such intensity that the it dispersed the clouds in all directions and exposed the beauty of the twilight sky. Suddenly they could see everything transpiring in the air above. The battle of the Nazgul with the eagles and the flying machines of men, engaging the dragons. The indigo canvas was marred by the white trails of missiles flying across the sky and responded to in kind with fiery plumes of dragon breath.
However, there were all soon eclipsed by the column of light that quickly expanded across the sky. The power of it was like daylight, as if the sun had decided to come out of hiding. As the powerful illumination bathed their battleground, Legolas could see the orcs and trolls scattering in the belief that the sun had risen again. The trolls tried desperately to reach shelter but it was all too quick and they became frozen where they stood, turning into grotesque statues of stone much to the bewilderment of the soldiers battling them. The orcs who were not as vulnerable but nonetheless disliked direct sunlight, started running for the hills, hoping to lose themselves in the shadow of the evening woods. Unfortunately, in their panic, they ran straight into the blade and axe of the elven and dwarf armies.
All attention had been fixed on the sky that no one paid any attention to Sauron’s dead host until without warning, Miranda uttered a cry of shock when she saw his body suddenly jerk back to life, or some fashion of it. The corpse had been motionless until now and Legolas had believed that whatever plan Fred enacted by Bryan’s sacrifice, had rendered the former lord of Mordor inert. However, it appeared that they were too soon to assume he was gone forever.
Sauron was lying against his back and his body bore the same grievous wounds as Bryan however, upon jerking back to life, his violent convulsions pulsed more blood out of his ruined flesh and his open mouth. His bent like a bow against the gravel covered earth. His head, pulped and bleeding was flung back and his face became a rictus of pain and agony as he opened his mouth and screamed like a wounded animal.
"NO!!!!!!!!!!!" He screamed to an unseen tormentor. “I WON’T GIVE UP THIS BODY!” I WON’T GO WITH YOU!” Even though his lips mouthed the words, his voice did not sound human. It sounded like the stubborn refusal of a fell thing refusing to die. "I WON'T GO!"
Whomever he made this plea to appeared to remain unmoved as his body continued to convulse and spasm, with more tears in the flesh, until the ruination of the body was near complete. Bones snapped, flesh ripped and what was happening was almost to terrible to witness. His screams of refusal and defiance seemed to reach crescendo and suddenly his mouth already open, erupted like a volcano spewing off red hot lava. Bright orange flame ejected from his lips, rising into the air as a second column of light except this one was breathed in fire and its crimson hues spoke to a rage that was very much in keeping with the spirit of it owner. Legolas knew as he saw the pillar of crimson rising into the cloudless sky that this was Sauron's dark soul torn away from the host body once and for all by a power that was greater than the dark lord himself.
The column was pulled into the brilliance of the white wall of energy in the sky, almost as if it was being reeled in. Once it made contact, the flame was quickly absorbed by the greater power and the resulting conflagration was like an exploding star that sending waves of energy throughout the land like the birth of a new dawn.
Against this onslaught of power, the Nazgul were helpless. They tried to fly away desperately but the expanding energy engulfed and disintegrated them where they stood or in the middle of their right with the eagles. And they were not alone in their demise. The dragons too were swept up in that expanding wall of energy. What power had chosen to cleanse the world of Sauron was also cleansing it of all his dark servants. It swept across the land like a scourge, overcoming the wargs, the spiders and every last creature in Sauron's evil army. They tried to run but it overtook and swept them away in its juggernaut path.
Only the children of Ilúvatar, the First Born and the Mortals, the Adopted remained.
************
Unaware of what was happening beyond the fortress, Aaron Stone had a mission of his own.
Carrying Fred in his arms, he left the parapet behind him and entered the maze like tower to find Eve. He took Eru's warning seriously, convinced that if he didn't find Eve and the baby soon, they'd never leave here alive. He couldn't claim to understand everything that passed between Eru and Saeran but he knew something momentous was going to happen and it was best that they were away from here when it happened. Fred remained unconscious and a quick examination told him that she was not hurt. She might even been sleeping. After the exhaustion of playing host to the Almighty, he supposed she had earned some rest.
What Eru had planted in his head helped him navigate the maze of corridors and staircases inside the fortress with the familiarity of someone who had walked these walls time and time again. He could hear the voices of the uruks coming from the stairwell alone and prayed that he didn't have to confront them. Not only did he have a child, he was also unarmed.
His concern was soon brushed away when suddenly the cold, dark passages filled with the same illumination that Eru had generated when the deity had left Fred's body so spectacularly. Except this was pouring in through the windows with such intensity, it appeared almost as if dawn had arrived ahead of schedule. For a moment, he thought that Sauron had achieved his plan after all, that he'd managed to launch his nukes.
No, it couldn’t be, Aaron told himself. Eru wouldn’t let that happen.
Not after everything they'd been through.
The sudden wail of a baby made Aaron forget everything.
Ignoring the blazing radiance that was threatening to blind him, Aaron used the infant’s cry to hone in on mother and child. Leaving the stairwell, he entered another empty wing in Saeran’s fortress. No doubt had the dark lord’s plans been successful, he would have furnished the place a little better. As it was, the hallway was long and like the rest of the fortress, appeared carved from obsidian. It looked almost surreal.
“EVE!” Aaron called out as he ran along the corridor following the sound of the infant’s cry. He was past caring if anyone heard him. After everything that he’d been through since leaving Valinor, after all the losses and horror he’d been force to witness, nothing was going to stop him from reaching his wife. Furthermore, Eru’s warning to leave the fortress sooner rather than later was a looming presence in his mind and he could feel time running out like something tangible pressing against his spine.
He was almost to the end of the hallway when he heard a voice call out.
“Aaron?”
His breath escaped in an explosion of relief. It almost made him double over from the sheer force of it. Eve’s voice, even faint and withdrawn had more power over him than anything else on this Earth and he almost threw himself on against the door to the room she was in. Hot tears of gratitude threatened to spill over his cheeks as he tested the door knob and found it locked. It seemed like a small barrier in comparison to the hurdles he had overcome to get to this moment.
“Eve baby,” he replied to her, “its me. I’m here.”
Aaron spoke over the wail of his son but the child’s tears, as well as Eve’s voice, could have been the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard. Beyond the walls of this stygian corridor, there was a battle raging and yet the only thing that mattered to him were the two people behind the door.
“Oh my God Aaron,” he heard Eve’s voice crack as she answered him. He could hear her relief and her tears of joy. What that son of a bitch had put her through must have been torture and to know that she may never be the same again, made Aaron ache with anguish.
“Is it really you? This isn’t some trick?” The desperation in her voice to believe that bleed through the wood.
“Its really me,” he blinked and wiped the moisture from his face. “Stand back Eve, I’m going to kick the door open.”
Driven by more adrenaline and determination than he ever thought he’d possessed, Aaron put Fred down momentarily and then slammed his boot against the door knob. It shuddered defiantly at first but his repeated assault eventually tore the metal screws from the wood and it swung open with a loud bang.
Eve was waiting by the doorway as soon as it opened. She was dressed in some shapeless shift of bluish white, her feet bare and her hair hanging limply around her head. Her blue eyes were wet glistening with tears but her skin was pale and the dark circles beneath them, spoke to the ordeal she’d been through since becoming Saeran’s prisoner. She seemed frail and exhausted as if she’d been away from him for months, not weeks. He noted the spots of dry blood in the lower half of her dress and winced, remembering she had delivered a child less than a day ago.
“Eve, thank God you’re safe!” He closed in on her, prepared to take her in his arms and never let her go again. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”
She burst into tears, sobbing out loud in gratitude, shaking as she clutched their child. “Oh God Aaron,” she wept as he drew her as close as he dared without crushing the baby. “I thought I’d never see you again. I thought....” she couldn’t finish as Aaron shook his head, telling her wordlessly not to go there. It hadn’t happened. He was here and they were safe.
“Its okay,” he kissed her lips and was astounded by how renewing it was, how much his love for her could invigorate him. “We’re okay.”
Aaron dropped his gaze to the baby in her arms and saw his son’s face for the first time. He was so small and tiny but the eyes staring back at him were her blue eyes and the bow shaped mouth was also Eve’s. A new kind of joy filled him and Aaron found his throat had become dry when he recognised himself in that tiny face, so pink and full of possibilities. He hadn’t realised he was crying too until a single tear drop splattered against the baby’s cheek, making the small brow furrow from the sensation.
“He’s so beautiful,” Aaron spoke, his voice a whisper. “He’s perfect.”
Eve managed a teary laugh, still caught between happiness and sorrow after what she’d suffered to reach this moment when she could present Aaron with his son. “He’s us.”
Aaron wanted to hold them both forever but the chatter and confusion beyond the walls reminded him of Eru’s warning. “Eve, we have to leave now. It’s a long story but we need to get out of this place before it goes.”
“Saeran?” She asked, suddenly terrified by the consequences if she ran and were caught if the bastard was still alive. She didn’t care what happened to her but it wasn’t her that Saeran would punish; it was the baby.
Aaron felt his insides harden in hatred as he saw the fear of Saeran in her eyes at the thought of escaping. The Eve he knew wouldn’t even ask the question but that Eve hadn’t been at the mercy of a demon god who saw her as the instrument of revenge.
“He’s gone,” Aaron assured her, kissing Eve’s forehead and then repeating the gesture on their child. “He’s not coming back.” This much, Aaron was confident. “But we need to move now. Can you walk?”
Eve raised her chin, the old spirit returning to her. That was Aaron’s power over her. He always made her feel strong. He’d come for her in the most hellish place on Earth and she’d love him for eternity because of that. The self worth that had taken a beating since this nightmare began started to reassert itself and she looked at him, her jaw set and her chest filling up with determination.
“I’ll damn well walk out of here,” she said firmly. “Let’s go.”
Aaron didn’t know if he could love her any more than at that moment.
************
FRANCIS E WARREN AIRFORCE BASE
CHEYENNE, WYOMMING
Something happened.
It happened so suddenly that he was still in shock and uncertain what came next. The moment had been building up like a kind of hysteria in his mind. Everything that had led him here, the pounding in his head was like an aria reaching crescendo. All the doubt that told him that he was killing millions, that in a blinding instant he was condemning whole populations to death, seemed trivial in the face of the greater horror that was spreading across the planet. He alone appreciated the darkness that would reach American shores in and put ruin to everything he’d spent his life defending.
He was a soldier and a soldier had to protect his country from all threats, even if some of those enemies were his own weak commanders.
He’d been standing there, next to Kendrick at the launch control console. His launch key was firmly inserted in the first of the two activation slots. Kendrick’s key was in the other. The moment was upon them and Dennis had been thinking that this was not wrong, that God himself had given him permission to do this. Why else would he send his angels? Dennis was all set to begin Armageddon when a flash of white so bright and overpowering filled the room.
He cursed and cried out, shielding his eyes and glimpsed that Kendrick had done the same. For an instant before the light became so overwhelming he had to close his eyes or risk permanent damage, Dennis saw the black smoke of earlier briefly take on the shape of two men. An ear splitting screech escaped their screaming mouths before the light overcame then and they disintegrated into the glare. He clamped his eyes shut then, the memory of that horrified wail echoing in his mind as he buried his face in his hands.
Then as suddenly as it had began, the brightness faded away and tentatively he lowered his hands from his face and all was as it was before. The heavy atmosphere of doom that hung over the room like a pregnant drop about to fall, disappeared. It was like the first breath of spring rushing exuberantly over the world, chasing away the cold of the winter doldrums. However it wasn’t just the environment that had changed; he felt different too. A short time ago, everything had felt so clear and right. There was no doubt in his mind what needed to be done. Now, it felt as if someone had scooped out his insides and left him hollow and raw.
He was looking at the launch key, trying to decide what to do when suddenly, he heard an audible click and looked up in the barrel of Kendrick’s gun.
The young man, no longer under the influence of the ‘angels’ had regained his faculties and stepped away from the console, the launch key dangling off his hand by its chain.
“Step away from the console General,” he said firmly, his intense gaze fixed on Dennis with the seething rage of someone who’d woken up from a nightmare only to find out that he’d been about to do something even worse. “Now.”
“You don’t understand,” Dennis opened his mouth to argue, “it needs to be done.”
It did need to be done but the reasons for doing so were no longer as clear as it once was. The doubts that he had believed crushed into submission, returned like the rising stink of dank water. Where had his ‘angels’ gone? Why weren’t they protecting him? Why had they abandoned him?
“Sir,” Kendrick retorted, refusing to hear any statement other than compliance with his demand. “I’m not going to tell you again. Step away from the console General.”
“No,” Dennis protested, the insistence to do what was necessary still lingered on. It wouldn’t leave him and he couldn’t do as this boy asked. “I will not.”
Kendrick pulled the trigger and the death that Dennis thought would come had been substituted by blinding pain in his knee that brought him down to the floor like a wet sack. He uttered a cry of pain as he went down, clutching his ruin knee cap as it spilled hot blood over his fingers. He was barely conscious of Kendrick stepping over him and relieving him of his weapon and then the launch key from its slot.
“I’m sorry General,” Kendrick apologised as he walked away to open the blast doors. “I don’t know what this was about but killing millions of innocent people when they didn’t do nothing to us, is never right.”
And as Dennis started to pass out from the pain, his last thought before the black was why he had forgotten that.
************
With the aid of Feanor, the greatest of them, the elves returned to Tirion with renewed spirit and armed with a determination to reclaim their city and indeed their lands from Sauron’s forces. Devoid of the manic desperation to reclaim the Simarils, Feanor led the charge with Glorfindel and Haldir at his side taking into account the best way to defeat the enemy but also to preserve the city from further damage. Already the green hills of Túna upon which the city had been built, bore the violence of Melkor’s dark servants. What the dragons had not burnt to cinder, the balrogs had charred black with their fiery lashes.
They met the balrogs upon the crystal stairs, not broken and crumbling in places, fighting the creatures with spear and arrow. Archers took up position on the high towers and rained down a storm of arrows upon the creatures. There was no killing the things, Feanor had explained. It was useless to even try. All the elves could do was drive them out of the city by any means possible. For a whole day and night, they drove the beasts through the city, armed with long spears, stabbing at them like a swarm of persistent neekerbreekers that had driven many a traveller in the marshes of Arda to madness.
The tactic cost them as much as it wounded the balrogs. Even with renewed spirit of fighting alongside Feanor, there were losses. When this day was done, Glorfindel knew there would be fresh graves dug in Valinor to honour the dead if such a thing was possible in this time of Dagor Dagorath. They fought fierce and hard, aware that there was a greater drama unfolding elsewhere in Arda with the forces that Elrond had led.
Forcing the balrogs to the highest parts of Tirion, amidst the rubble of ruined spires and crumbling towers, they continued their siege of the creatures. They drove some of the fearsome beasts off the edges of the city walls, tumbling down the side of Túna, hopefully becoming lost in the cracks that between it and the steep walls of Calacirya. Still, the effort was tremendous and with each balrog driven out, more of the First Born was lost. Glorfindel wondered if it was easier to abandon the city and then decided against it. If this was the end, then they would meet it with courage not despair.
“Rest Haldir,” Glorfindel said to the young elf as they sat on the marble surround that framed the great White Tree of Galathilion. While almost everything else in the Great Square had suffered some violence, the tree had remained untouched, save for the ash that had been collected on its leaves in place of due.
Despite the approach of night, the sky was still amber with the glow of fires elsewhere in the city and Glorfindel knew they would soon have to rejoin the fighting. Haldir was nursing a severe burn on his arm that he’d managed to treat though he’d refused to withdraw from the battle. His stubbornness was both frustrating and admirable, the older elf thought.
“I will rest when those creatures are driven from our home,” Haldir grumbled, redressing his wound so that he would be able enough to join his comrades when they resumed the fight. They’d been battling the creatures in shifts, ensuring that the balrogs would have no respite from their attacks. When fighting a near invincible enemy, it was the best they could manage under the circumstances.
“It will serve no one if you fall this day,” Glorfindel remarked. “Besides, I promised Legolas that I would keep watch on you.” He added, aware that the two had a peculiar kind of friendship.
Haldir made a face, “I was the march warden of the Lady Galadriel,” he declared with some indignation. “I do not require the concern of a woodland princeling.” Even though the tone with said with obvious distaste, those who saw the two in each other’s company knew that it was all for show. They were good friends and had been for millennia.
“I am sure,” Glorfindel replied with a straight face, taking in none of the disdain that Haldir would have him believe.
Feanor made his appearance then, stepping out of the doorway that led to his father’s house stilling standing beneath the tower of Mindon Eldaliéva. The great elf seemed pensive and Glorfindel could only imagine what was running through his mind as he stood in the place where his life had taken such an dramatic if not tragic turn.
“Are you alright?” Glorfindel left Haldir for the moment and asked him.
Feanor nodded slowly and sighed, “they say that time heals all wounds. I think that it is a fallacy, it merely gives us the freedom to fully consider our foolishness.” Looking about the ruined Great Square, “I led our people to ruin from this very place and I suppose if there is some consolation to be had, my father was not alive to see it. He would have thought that this was yet another tantrum in protest for betraying my mother. I have been too ashamed to ask his forgiveness.”
“My lord,” Glorfindel said kindly, “you are here fighting for us and this land. I think he would have been proud of ....” he stopped speaking because Feanor’s expression darkened and Glorfindel thought that a balrog might be upon them.
“I sense something is happening,” Feanor said hurrying to the centre of the square and leaping onto the marble hedge surrounding Galathilion to stare into the sky behind the tower.Without warning, the darkening sky came alive with a brilliant burst of blinding light that all of themed flinch from its radiance. It swallowed up the light of the stars, muted the amber glow of the fires and made it seem as if the sun had exploded in the sky.
It lasted for second but felt like an eternity as it expanded outwards, until it covered all the land of Aman and if it went beyond the Blessed Realms, the elves could not say. All they knew was when its radiating beauty had diminished and they could see clearly again, the glow of balrog fire was gone. The stormy weather of fierce winds and cold nights had also disappeared and the clime of Valinor became as it was, warm and pleasant. Even the stars in the night sky glittered with renewed beauty and the wind breathed as if the world had sighed in gratitude and relief.
“Look,” Haldir exclaimed as he rose to his feet, his face filled with wonder. He was pointing at something behind Feanor and Glorfindel.
Both elves turned around and their joy was soon shared by the others across the island as standing as proud and majestic as it had always been, was Mount Taniquetil.
“Feanor,” a new voice spoke.
Glorfindel thought it was Galadriel at first because she stood tall and beautiful, a glow in heavenly light. Her hair was fair and golden, it swept across her pale shoulders like shimmer of sunlight. Her eyes were bright and if you looked into them, you could see all the colours of the ocean, in all of Arda. They swirled with flecks of coral and seaweed. She was not Galadriel for Haldir knew that lady well enough after so many centuries of friendship. She wore a gown of green that reminded him of the forest of Lothlorien, lush and teeming with life. In her presence, he could the sweet fragrance of wildflowers and fresh cut grass.
“Feanor,” she called the elf to her.
Feanor stepped forward, fearful not of her but of himself. He knew what this moment was and he had waited so long for it. In his mind, even in Mandos, he had often rehearsed what he would say now that the time was upon him.
She opened her palm and in them was three jewels, so bright and beautiful, it brought tears to his eyes just looking upon them. Yet it was not tears of happiness that he shed but regret. He had crafted each of these jewels, made them when he was at his best. His legacy to his people should have been the craft behind their construction. Instead, they became a cautionary tale of obsession and revenge that doomed his entire line. So often, he blamed Melkor for ruining him but in truth, the architect of his destruction had always been himself.
“These are yours,” she spoke to him, faint smile on her lips. “After long last, take them Feanor. The Simarils must return to its rightful master.”
Feanor blinked, tears ran down his face and he shook his head. “No dear lady, they were never mine. They were the fruit of the great trees and they should have been used to give light to Ea. I have destroyed myself and my line because of them and I have brought shame to my father’s name. Take them and use them as you will. I want nothing more of them.”
Yavanna reached out and brushed his forehead gently. “You have reclaimed your honour Feanor. Take your place in Mandos as the greatest of your people.”
And with that, Yavanna started to glow again, the orb of light surrounding her took Feanor too and as it ascended from the ground and flew into the air, Glorfindel saw other orbs of light leaving Taniquetil, shooting across the night sky like storm of comets.
When the wave of light had swept away the army of the Forbidden Vaults, Legolas found his thoughts turning to Aaron.
If all of Sauron’s evil works were being destroyed as it appeared he had been, then the last remnant of it surely had to be the dark fortress from which Bryan had leapt to his fate. It stood to reason that if Bryan had been brought to the tower upon his surrender, then it was more than likely that Aaron, Fred and possibly Eve had accompanied him too. Leaving Miranda with the command to ensure everyone cleared the field; the former Prince of Mirkwood left his current fellowship and made haste to the tower entrance.
Much to his chagrin, he could not convince Ariel to leave with the others as she insisted on joining him. She was mindful of the wound he had sustained battling the Nazgul and was not about to let him out of her sight in such condition. Legolas could not fault her for that sentiment and he had to admit, it was exciting seeing this side of her. It reminded him of the adventure that he and Melia had shared together in the Fourth Age. While he was not foolish enough to make the same mistake of seeing Ariel as substitute, it did please him that before the end of things, their love for each other was stronger than ever.
“How much time do you think we have?” Ariel inquired they stepped through the foreboding stone doorway and stared up the spine of the spiral stairs that led to the top of the fortress. It seemed to go on forever. As if was, the light was little. Even with the clouds gone, the twilight sky allowed only a little illumination to pour through the open windows. She was suddenly grateful for elven sight that would allow them to navigate the darkness. What a terrible thing to be trapped in this place, she thought. It had been built for no other reason than to provoke the fear of impending doom.
“Not long,” Legolas answered breathlessly, seeing no reason to hide the truth, as they both hurried up the staircase, matching each other stride for stride as they scaled the height of the sinister place. There was little doubt in his mind that if Sauron would have kept his prisoners in the more inaccessible place he could imagine to prevent rescue. “When Sauron was destroyed in the Third Age, his tower was brought down with him at the same time. Gandalf always said it happened within moments of the One Ring entering the fires of Mount Doom. What troubles me is that I do not know what power vanquished Sauron this time but if he was indeed been destroyed, then this place will not stand long in his departure.”
The reasoning was sound and upon agreeing with her husband, wasted no time in treading lightly. Without warning, she started calling out on top of her lungs, “Aaron! Can you hear us! Aaron! It is Ariel! I am here with Legolas!"
Legolas jumped a little at the sound but found himself giving her an appreciative smile as he hadn't thought beyond getting to the top of the tower and searching. Joining her, he added his voice to hers. After all two voices were better than one. "Aaron! Eve! Can you hear us?"
They continued to run up the winding steps that seemed to go on forever, taxing their strength as well as patience. All the while calling after the friends that Legolas prayed were still in the land of living. At the same time, Legolas cursed Sauron silently for his preferences for lofty residences. Even in the Third Age, Sauron had built Bara-dur not only as the seat of his power but to ensure that his enemies knew that they could not rid himself of him. His presence, dark and ominous, sat atop the tower casting his malevolent gaze over all of Middle Earth and its people.
He was still ruminating on all this when he felt Ariel's hand grip his arm and silenced his thoughts. Her expression became one of focus, her lovely, shaped brows furrowing with concentration. "Prince," she spoke seriously, "Do you hear that?"
They were both breathless from their exertions but Legolas quietened his breathing and listened closely to the seemingly overwhelming silence for what it was that she believed she heard. For a few moments, he heard nothing until ringing the sound pierced the air and there was no denying what it was.
The cry of a child.
Somewhere above them, a babe was crying. Before they had parted company, Legolas remembered that Fred had told Aaron that Eve had given birth to their child. With renewed energy, Legolas launched himself further up the stairs, leaving Ariel behind a few paces as he called out again.
"AARON!"
Trailing a few steps behind, Ariel kept up with her husband as they followed the curve of the staircase for another dozen steps before they both heard a voice calling back to them.
"LEGOLAS! We're up here!" Aaron's unmistakable voice called back in turn.
Legolas looked up and caught sight of Aaron's head leaning over the edge of the staircase to look down at the gap that ran down the middle of the spiral staircase. "Legolas! Get up here! We need help!"
Legolas and Ariel flashed each other happy smiles of relief before they made short work of closing the distance between themselves and their friends. It took but a few minutes before they were standing before Aaron, Eve, their babe and Fred. While Aaron remained unchanged from the last time Legolas had seen him, he wore a broad grin upon seeing Legolas and only the child in his arms kept the elf from hugging him in grateful greeting.
Ariel, who had last seen Eve when Sauron had come to take her captive, was rather shocked at Eve's condition. She was used to seeing the woman, strong and vital. Eve had always been to her, a warrior, afraid of nothing. Yet the friend stood before her now appeared exhausted, pale and ready to drop. She seemed so frail; Ariel thought and tried to force the shock away from her face. The toll of being Sauron's prisoner showed in Ariel's eyes, even as she cradled the child in her arms, trying to comfort the babe when it was she who needed soothing.
"I've never been so grateful to see you two," Aaron exclaimed with his emotions naked on his face. "We don't have time to talk but Eru says that we need to leave right now, before this whole place goes." He ran a sweeping gaze over the ceiling to make his point.
"Eru Ilúvatar?" Legolas stared at Aaron in shock. Of course it was Eru, he realised in retrospect. Only Ilúvatar would be untouched by Sauron's spell and only he, could call Sauron to account after he had usurped Morgoth's power.
"He was the one possessing Fred," Aaron explained hastily, painfully aware of how little time they had to clear this place. "Here," he stepped forward and handed the unconscious little girl to Legolas. Fred was blissfully unaware of what had happened and Aaron felt his heart suddenly grow heavier at the thought that he was going to have to tell her about Bryan when she woke. A problem for later, he decided.
"She's okay," he assured Legolas. “She’s sleeping. Playing host to God took a lot out of her."
In full agreement that no further explanations were needed, Legolas took Fred from Aaron. Besides, knowing that Ilúvatar himself had a hand at what transpired today, gave the elf some measure of comfort.
Ariel had approached Eve slowly. There was still a look of fear and panic in the woman's eyes that Ariel attributed to the fact that Eve was still uncertain that they were indeed safe.
"Your babe is so beautiful Eve," Ariel spoke sincerely. And he was, Ariel thought. He bore Eve's eyes but his strong chin and the shape of his face was his father's, even if it was sheathed in a child's plump flesh.
"Thank you," Eve answered her voice nowhere as steady as it used to be and sounded as if it could shatter like the waves against the rocks at any time. Even though she had promised Aaron and assured him she was fine, Eve was from it. She was so exhausted that every step forward threatened to sweep her legs from beneath her.
"Can I hold your son Eve?" Ariel asked, afraid that Eve would collapse if she were not aided right this moment. "Please?"
Eve's first instinct was to protest because she remembered how Saeran had just taken him when she had been to weak to fight him. She met Ariel's kind eyes with fear and hesitation, immediately feeling shame for it. This was her friend and Eve, being practical, wasn't blind to what kind of shape she was in. Fighting powerful maternal instincts, she nodded and kissed her baby's forehead before handing him to Ariel.
“I shall remain right next to you,” Ariel promised her seeing the pain in her eyes at the realisation that she was faltering to the limitations of her body. "You have my word; he will not leave your sight."
"Thank you," Eva answered, thankful that Ariel was sparing her the indignity of admitting she was to weak to hold her own baby. The humiliation of it almost choked the words in her throat but Eve wrestled her errant emotions and regained her composure.
Seeing her pain made Aaron's own heart ache and he wanted nothing but to hold her so that she could forget the horror of what she'd gone through in this place. Instead, he settled for bending over so that he could scoop her up. The doctor in him was clinically assessing her physical state, aware that it had been less than 24 hours since she'd delivered their son. Alone. He grit his teeth in outrage at that. He had so wanted to be there with her, to help bring their child into the world.
"No arguments Eve," he looked at her firmly. "I'm carrying you out of here."
Eve neither protested not wished to fight him on the matter. She knew what kind of shape she was in. Instead, she wrapped around her arms around his neck and rested her head against his chest.
"You're such a romantic," she smiled happily and allowed herself to be carried as they began the long trek down.
************
When they finally reached the ground, Aaron was somewhat shocked by how empty the place had become.
When he, Bryan and Fred had been marched into the tower, the surrounding area had been bustling with activity. Saeran’s dark army were fastidiously preparing themselves for the impending battle. Now, there was no sign of anyone. Legolas had told him that Eru had somehow swept away all the creatures Saeran had released from the Forbidden Vaults but he was taken back by just how devoid of life it really was. Even the combined forces of the Alliance was nowhere in sight. With only himself, Eve, Legolas, Ariel and the children about, Saeran’s empty kingdom seemed more desolate than ever.
“Where is everyone?” Aaron asked trying to see through the darkness. The twilight sky had descended upon them and as he looked up, he saw the sky was alive with movement. It looked as if the stars had become fireflies, swarming together in a glitter of iridescent beauty. He liked to think that this was Eru’s work that the deity was putting right what damage Saeran had caused since escaping Valinor.
“I instructed Eve to make everyone go,” Legolas explained, moving across the wreckage of the battle. Even though the fighting had ceased, the scattered remnants of ruined fortifications, burnt out vehicles and discarded weapons lay across the land like uncovered graves. “I remembered what took place when Sauron was last destroyed. The whole of Mordor sank into the ground.”
Suddenly the air began to fill with the sound of great wings flapping above their heads. Aaron looked up to see a dark shape over their heads. For an instant, he thought that it was a dragon. It was certainly big enough, easily matching a jet. However, he soon realised that this was no fire breather. The grace and beauty of the creature made him realised that this was an eagle of Valinor. Aaron had only ever seen them from the ground in Tirion and the distance had not done them justice.
“Is that one of the eagles?” Aaron asked, awed as he gaped at the thing.
“Yes,” Legolas replied, a grin splitting his face. “It is. They came to help up fight the Nazgul and the dragons.”
Jogging up to the eagle, he thought it might have been Telrir and them realised it was a much larger wind lord. No, this wasn’t Telrir but his leader, Grimnir, who usually took his instructions from Manwe himself. Telrir's absence made Legolas hope that nothing had happened to the eagle that had borne him and Ariel during their fight with the Nazgul.
Greetings, the son of Thranduil, Grimnir greeted as they approached. The son of Eärendil asked me to fetch all of you. Time grows short.
It took a moment for Aaron realised that Grimnir spoke telepathically. Of course, he told himself, how else was an eagle without vocal chords supposed to communicate?
"Grows short for what? “He blurted out without thinking.
For the music.
************
They were in flight when the dark tower met its end.
Looking over his shoulder, Aaron saw Saeran’s fortress explode like glass. The dark obsidian tower that looked like tear in the fabric of the world shattered suddenly. Fragments of black scattered in all directions like as it slowly tumbled to the ground. A cloud of dust expanded outward when it collapsed, rolling outward over the plain that had was previously filled with orcs, wargs, spiders and the like. However, like Sauron, it became stretched thin as it spread out further until finally, the cloud disappeared into nothingness and it was as if nothing had ever stood there at all.
The destruction of the tower was incidental however, to what was continuing to take place in the sky. Even if he did not know this yet, the entire world was captivated by the incredible display in the skies tonight and no one who saw what was happening could remain unmoved. Aaron held Eve in his arms, marvelling at the fact he was riding a giant eagle with the wind blowing through his hair, watching the stars performing a dance across the sky the like of which the world had never seen.
Two of the stars that had been the Silmarils seemed to shine brighter than all others tonight. They were pulsing as if they were waiting impatiently for the missing member of their triad to appear in the night sky to join them. They did not have long to wait because the third Silmarils made its appearance thought from where, Aaron could not say. It seemed to be rising from the Earth, like a phoenix rising and as they became trinity, the light they produced together seemed almost holy.
"It is the last Silmarils! The one from the sea!" Legolas exclaimed in excitement, his eyes bright with a child's wonder. "The gem that was lost with Maglor!"
"So what happens now?" Eve asked weakly.
Legolas didn't answer because upon convergence, the burst of light that filled the sky was so brilliant that it was seen across the globe, in every corner of the world. Like fireworks, the sky became the canvas upon which the world so the fabric of the cosmos being rewritten. It was a dazzling display that made it seem as if the stars were streaking across the sky like a swarm of fireflies. Even the stars that did not move seemed to shine a little brighter. The beauty of it capture the attention of all and left them to gape in awe and wonder.
Even if the dance had begun first, it did not diminish anything when the music began to play.
Aaron heard the Great Music once before in New York when the Valar had come together to destroy John Malcolm but this was nothing like that.
This was a song of joyous celebration not the vanquishment of a hated enemy. As the opening chords began, the song affected every person on Earth the way one would be if they were watching rainbows coming through the clouds after a storm or the breaking of dawn following a long dark night. Slow and gradual, the music built up its momentum, moving through the soul and breaking down barriers as it chased down foolish fears, swept away doubt and hesitation. It was like enlightenment, opening the hearts and mind of all so completely that they were willing to have their coda rewritten for something greater than themselves.
What moved through the world and then through the universe was a song of creation and rebirth. It transformed the idea of God as a monotheistic being full of vengeful and wrath, smiting if his demands were not met. Instead, it revealed him as he truly was; the keeper of light that was found in all living things. The light that was personified by the Silmarils.
With three gems in convergence, the new tree sprung into being that was neither Telperion or Laurelin in its likeness. The tree grew with the intent of realising the plan for Ea before it had come to ruin by of Melkor and Ungoliant's act of savagery in the First Age. The tree grew fast across the cosmos, hastened by Eru’s power and design, each branch stretching across the vastness of the universe until the whole of creation knew its renewing light.
Summoned by Eru, the Valar took their places in the heavens once again and joined their chords to sing the new song of creation, a thing that had not been done since the formation of Ea. The Second Great Music would be uncorrupted by Melkor’s malice and even Sauron would sing his chord to achieve the perfection he had caused so much mischief to correct. Both Valar and Maia would form the chords and create the themes for the Second Great Music to be greater than the first.
As the song began, life exploded across Ea as it had never done before. The corruption of Melkor had halted its progress but now with a new song, it was allowed the freedom to change every corner of the universe with its sweet melody. It swept through the cosmos, to the far reaches of space and seeded worlds that were millennia away from discovery or even thought. Where there was no life, it sprouted from the previously dead earth and bubbled across empty seas. As it had been in Arda, these worlds would waken, no longer left in darkness and silence. They would add new themes to the Great Music and have voices on their own.
Perhaps someday, all of Ilúvatar’s Children would know each other to create their own music.
Arda too was healed. The air that was so ruined by Man had been cleansed and invigorated. The music gave life to the barren deserts of the Earth and new flow to rivers that had run their course. Oceans nearing exhaustion became filled and new forests sprung where rampant lumbering had left it a wasteland. The thoughtlessness of Man was erased as Yavanna and Utmo returned Arda to a semblance of its former splendour. It was Eru’s gift to Arda who had been the First World, the one from whom all others would follow.
Others such as the worlds that shared Arda’s sun.
No longer a lonely child, Arda’s siblings became living, breathing worlds full of teeming oceans and lands that were lush and plentiful. The song gave life to the barren Marsian landscape. It melted the frozen oceans covering the moons of Europa, Ganymede and Titan. Once again, Utmo gave lease to cold, empty oceans while Yavanna warmed barren plains of ice and Manwë change the air so that it was as sweet as any to be found on Arda or Aman. Life rushed across the land like laughing children and waited patiently for the arrival of its inheritors.
And when the Second Great Music came to a close, the race of Man at last knew that the starlight had finally returned to their world.
************
No one could speak after the music ended.
They felt its movements profoundly and no one could speak for a few moments after it had stopped.
The world had changed and they knew it but how marked those changes were still a mystery. The stars had now returned its usual nightly glitter and though the memory of what had been lingered, it all seemed sedate compared to what they had just seen. Still some stars, Aaron noticed, shone brighter than others and he wondered that meant. Aaron suspected that it was probably up to Elrond or Galadriel to truly explain the scope of what had happened and that was good enough for him at present.
They were safe and that was the only thing that mattered now.
Grimnir set them down in a field not far from the camp that had been created following the order to retreat. It was situated at the base of the mountain and was a collection of tents, surrounded by vehicles and was that a tank? Aaron wondered as he saw the familiar silhouette. The camp was illuminated by a mixture of amber lights from campfires and the piercing stare of battery operated lamps. Even from here, he could detect the faint whiff of antiseptic and immediately guessed that there was a triage tent amongst the others to treat the wounded. There were no sounds of well-deserved celebration however and Aaron suspected that everyone was still trying to gather their thoughts after hearing great music.
They were making their way across the field when suddenly the shadowy silhouette of someone appeared in the distance and approached them with an all too familiar walk. When he was close enough, the cloaked figure stepped out of the darkness by illuminating the top of his tall staff, revealing his face to them.
“Gandalf!” Legolas exclaimed, thrilled to see Maiar again. If they needed proof that everything had indeed been returned to normal after Sauron’s machinations, it was the presence of the wizard who had undoubtedly been released from the Blessed Realm when the dark lord was at last vanquished.
No less happy to see him, Aaron was a little more subdued in his greeting and instead remarked with a tone of mock sarcasm, “It’s about time you got here Moses. Do you have any idea what we’ve been through?”
Gandalf chuckled, recalling the designation that Aaron had given him when they had first met in that mental ward a lifetime ago. Or at least it seemed that way. They’d been through so much since then. Leaning closer to Legolas as the elf approached, he gave Fred a look of concern and only turned away when he was confident she was just sleeping. Then he shifted his eyes towards Ariel and saw the baby in her arms. The child was quiet but awake and its eyes were fixed on the stars above.
“Some idea,” Gandalf finally answered Aaron. “You seemed to have come out of it well enough.”
“Not all of us,” Aaron said quietly, giving Eve a quick glimpse and thinking about Bryan. The guilt that the MI6 man might have sacrificed himself to save Aaron still ate him. “Gandalf, what does this mean now? Now that the Great Music has come and gone.”
“It means the world is going to change,” Gandalf explained. “Quite significantly. Dagor Dagorath is over and the Second Great Music did right many of the wrongs that had been introduced when Melkor tainted the first chorus. Arda has been made stronger and new worlds have been seeded not just around this sun but across the universe.”
“New worlds?” Ariel asked, her eyes widening at the possibilities. “What does that mean?”
“It means that there all the races will have new choices to make. Eru is given everyone the opportunity to make journeys to the new lands. New worlds await its inheritors Aaron and Eru will allow those who wish to seed them the chance to start again. There will be new ships built and this time the seas we cross will take us to a new world. That is if you choose to go.”
“Leave Arda?” Aaron was trying to wrap his mind around the concept that boats would be able to take them through space to another planet. “You mean Earth?”
“That is correct,” the wizard nodded. “Eru has opened the path between worlds and with the help of the elves to build the ship, man and dwarves can leave Arda. All will be able to go to the new lands and create new destinies for themselves. The time of isolation is ended. It is time for all the races to know each other and there is space a plenty for them to do it properly.”
“And what about Saeran...I mean Sauron,” Aaron asked, his tone a little darker after Gandalf’s optimistic pitch. “What happened to him? Did Eru lock his ass in a metaphysical dungeon somewhere?”
“It is not Eru’s way to punish what can be salvaged Aaron,” Gandalf sighed, aware that after what had happened to Bryan, Tory and Jason, Aaron may not be so forgiving of the dark lord. “Sauron’s chord was part of the music you just heard and he sang it without any hatred or taint. He always fought against chaos and with Eru’s tutelage, perhaps he can be redeemed. If not, his fate will end him in the Abyss.”
Aaron frowned, trying not to show that he wished Sauron was made to pay horribly for what he had done to Eve and all his friends. However, he had remembered how Eru whilst in Fred’s body had tried to talk Sauron off the proverbial ledge. As a psychiatrist, he hated to think anyone was beyond help but supposed that if Eru was taking direct charge of Sauron, he was beyond troubling them further, Aaron decided to be satisfied with that. His wife and son were safe and that was enough for him.
“We lost Bryan, Tory and Jason,” Ariel spoke for Aaron when it didn’t appear he was going to answer Gandalf. Sauron had almost killed her, had killed Tory and Eve’s condition was because of his treatment. While she would not question Eru’s judgment, she spoke for Aaron because she knew it was painful for him to say what was on his mind at this time. “It is not easy to forgive when one things of that,” she reminded the wizard.
“I know,” Gandalf replied, feeling the loss of the three as much as those present. “But they will not be forgotten and neither will their sacrifice.”
“It won’t,” Aaron said firmly, knowing precisely how he was going to honour one of the dead.
Gandalf nodded in understanding, perhaps having some insight into what Aaron intended.
************
He found Lori in the medical tent.
After catching with Frank and Miranda, Eric learned that Lori and the kids had safely sat out the battle in one of the dwarves subterranean vehicles. Worms, they called it. After the fighting was done, Barra had delivered Lori to the human doctors setting up triage tents to deal with the wounded. At least, she’d survived, he thought. After losing Jason, Eric was able to sympathize with the grief Frank felt at losing Bryan.
It was just like the crazy bastard, Eric thought, to do something selfless like sacrificing himself.
It wasn’t hard to locate her once he’d asked one of the British doctors where she was. Aside being the only American soldier in the tent, Lori was also the only woman other than Miranda, in the battle. A rather irate doctor had relented to Eric’s demands to be taken to Lori and left him next to her cot before scurrying away to attend other patients. Judging by the blood and fluids that were being emptied into her body by IVs and blood bags, Eric guessed that Lori had gotten medical help just in time to save her life.
“Hey Jet,” Eric greeted her as he lowered himself next to her cot. She appeared conscious but he couldn’t say for certain if she was lucid.
Lori herself answered that question when she turned her groggy head in his direction when she had heard a familiar voice next to her. Opening her eyelids, her eyes widened in surprise to see him looking down at her. “Well look what the cat dragged in,” her pale lips curled into a smile. “How you doing Aussie?”
“Still here,” Eric replied, glad to see that she was able to speak. It bode well for her condition. After losing Jason and now Bryan too, he didn’t think he could take one more person dying today. As it was, he was trying not to think about what may have happened to Aaron, Eve and their new baby.
“Yeah but you look like crap,” she pointed out with a frown. “You’re much to pretty to be messed up.”
She was obviously on painkillers, he thought before adding, “You should talk,” he said brushing a strand of dark hair out of her eyes. “ You look pretty crook yourself.”
“And here I thought you were a charmer,” Lori sighed, her voice becoming weaker.
She looked exhausted and under the influence of sedatives if her fluttering eyelids were any indicator. Nevertheless, he ought to let her sleep though he wasn’t that eager to leave her side. After watching how hard she’d fought to land the chopper safely even though she’d been cut to ribbons by the dragon’s attack, Eric admired her courage. Even more so, when she’d told them to leave her behind and go after Sauron. Doing so had nearly torn him apart, with a piece of him left with her when he went off with the others and left her with Frank.
Now, with the attention of the doctors focussed entirely on the new wounded being brought in, Eric was reluctant to leave her alone. Although secretly, he did wonder if his vigil was for her sake or his.
“I’ve been slipping lately,” he admitted after a moment. “These days I’m more interested in defeating dark lords and rescuing cute girl pilots.” He winked at her.
“Girl pilots?” A brow arched as she crooked one eye open and stared at him pointedly. “You need some work on your Sir Galahad routine, Aussie.” She teased before laying her head back down again, allowing the drugs to do their work and coax her into a gentle slumber.
“Actually,” Eric said with a smirk, “back in the Fourth Age, Legolas tells me I was a king. King of the Riddermark.”
“Like I haven’t heard that line before,” Lori breathed her answer even though she appeared to be fading fast.
“I got a few more lines up my sleeve, don’t you worry,” Eric returned even though he wasn’t sure that she’d heard him. Staring into her lovely face, he saw that she’d drifted off again. Eric leaned forward and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. “But you get some rest now. I’ll try them on you later.”
************
“I’m not sure we should let her do this,” Frank Miller staid to his wife the next morning as the three of them stood outside the tent where the dead had been taken in the aftermath of the battle.
A temporary camp had been set up in the foothills of the Carpathians after Miranda had passed on Legolas’ call for retreat. With the sudden disappearance of all of the enemy’s forces and the impending destruction of Saeran’s tower, there had been general agreement that they gain minimum safe distance. Afterwards however, the end of the immediate crisis left everyone with the uncertainty of what to do next. There was talk of a conference with the United Nations, so the dwarves and the elves would be formally introduced to the world stage but that seemed so distant.
Right now, it seemed more prudent to remain in place and deal with the present state of things. In the aftermath of the battle, there were more grounded realities to face as medics and elven healers attended the wounded while the seriously injured were kept comfortable until they could be transported to proper medical facilities. Those who hadn’t survived long enough for either were stored away until proper burials arrangements could be made.
The nondescript military tent that Miranda, Frank and Fred were standing in front of, had the distinction of being of the first of its type to hold the honoured dead of three different species. Man, elf and dwarf. Bryan’s body had been kept here when Frank had left Saeran’s fortress. He wanted Bryan returned to Valinor so that it could be laid to rest next to Tory’s. At the very least, they could spend the afterlife together.
Miranda shared Frank’s reservations but she had a feeling that this had to be done. Still, her maternal instincts wanted to protect Fred and she dropped to her knees so she could look Fred in the eyes. “Sweetheart,” she asked brushing a strand of hair out of the girl’s eyes, “Are you sure you want to do this?"
Fred nodded sadly, saying nothing. Her eyes held a world of sorrow and it broke Miranda’s heart to look into. All traces of Eru’s self-possessed calm was gone from her face. Now there was the only child, lost and alone.
"Alright," Miranda replied, fighting her wish to take Fred away from the heartache waiting for her inside the tent. “I’ll take her.” She told Frank.
Frank nodded and drifted away. He didn't want to see Bryan again, not until they were ready to bury him. He wanted nothing to sully the memories he had of Bryan alive. He didn’t need to see the shell that was left in his place. Miranda understood and she supposed it was the fact that she was more comfortable with seeing comrades in death after her years in the service that made her more capable of facing Bryan’s body than Frank right now.
Still, Miranda was conflicted about allowing Fred to do this. Unfortunately, Miranda suspected denying her would be even worse. Taking Fred's small hand in hers, they stepped through the tent flap and entered the tent with its thick antiseptic smell. They were immediately confronted by a rows of dark body bags, lined up neatly, sparing them the sight of the bodies within. The names of the dead written on duct tape across the plastic and Miranda hated how impersonal that was. It felt like walking past specimens in a laboratory.
Fred didn't appear to register the other bodies as Miranda led her to where Bryan had been placed. Her dark eyes faced front, almost glassy and she said nothing. It didn't take long for them find him. Bryan was situated at the end of the row and the body bag he was in was lay against a tarpaulin on the ground. Miranda gestured wordlessly at Fred to stay put while she stepped forward and knelt down next to the body.
Pulling the zipper down, Miranda saw that whomever had placed Bryan in the bag had taken care to clean him up. Thank God for that, she thought. Still the lack of blood did little to hide the violence done to his body. His skin was discoloured and the bruises had turned vivid. His eyes were closed and for a moment Miranda thought he might be sleeping it off after getting into a brawl in some Yorkshire tavern. Seeing him made brought Miranda's own tears to fore and she fought back a gasp of sorrow when she realised that Fred was kneeling down next to her.
For a few seconds, Fred said nothing. She merely stared at Bryan’s face, her breathe escaping her in little wisps. Then she leaned forward and kissed softly Bryan on the cheek. The gesture, so small and quick, near broke Miranda's heart and when Fred straightened up, Miranda saw the tears that had fallen on his cold skin when Fred had kissed him. When Fred turned around, Miranda saw the mask of stoicism shattered and she started shaking with a child’s grief.
“Oh Fred,” Miranda said opening her arms to the girl and before she knew it, Fred had ran into them, burying her face in Miranda's golden hair and sobbing.
"Its okay baby," Miranda picked her up, stroking her back and holding her close and whispering the reassurance that only mothers knew how to give. "You're not alone. You'll never be alone again. You're ours now and we'll never let anything hurt you. I promise you that."
As Fred wept against her shoulder, Miranda reiterated the promise to Bryan that she'd protect the child he'd died to save. Bryan had saved her when he brought Frank into her life and proved that after great pain, life could yield such wonder that it was scarcely too much to believe. Miranda wanted that very much for Fred. She wanted the girl to grow up happy as part of her family and be forever loved.
After everything the child had been through, she deserved that much.
************
The world changes.
The fallout from Sauron’s war against Arda continued to be felt. With everything that had taken place in Europe, there was no denying the fact that an ancient evil had come out of nowhere and changed the way mankind saw itself in the world. Even the staunchest sceptics found their arguments hard to justify when they'd seen dragons take to the skies and beast men burning several major cities. Even where Sauron's army hadn't been, there was no doubt of his reach. In America two Nazgul agents had almost caused the inadvertent launch of nuclear weapons. A General named Dennis Etherton, who until this incident, been a loyal and upstanding soldier for decades was now sharing the same padded cell with the last man under Sauron’s influence.
Now that Aman was safe and hidden once more behind the curtain of the Blessed Realm, some of elves were eager to return to the home once again. However, there others wanted to remain in Arda. Now that it was no longer necessary to hide themselves, they were eager to explore the rest of the modern world not to mention the underground kingdoms of the dwarves. Furthermore it wasn’t just the elves and dwarves who wanted to see Arda but mankind had questions about its past and were eager to know what had come before.
To the surprise of the both older races, the race of men seemed more open to the idea of them than either had originally believed. Their existence had challenged all facets of human knowledge, scientific, religious and historical and yet there was a sense of wonder in the acceptance. Perhaps it was something in Eru's design of man or maybe, like all of Ilúvatar's children they had heard the Great Music and were changed by it, no one could say but for most part Man accepted the Eldar and Aule's folk with open but cautious arms. And they wanted to learn everything; they wanted to know about the great dragons they'd seen, the history of the Middle Earth, the many languages spoken and the obviously masterful craftsmanship of the dwarves.
With the healing of the world by Great Music, there was also greater appreciation of the land and in understanding that it was by Eru's hand, mankind was in a better mood to listen to the wisdom of treating his works with reverence. Indeed, the Secretary of the United Nations had invited both Elrond and the dwarf leaders to attend the council with the hopes of maintaining the new relationship and to recognise the sovereignty of the two ancient races. As a result, Elrond had chosen to remain in Arda for the time being since among all the elves, it was he with the most experience in dealing with Eru’s young children.
Only Gandalf and a few of the Maiar remained in Arda after the Great Music was concluded. The others were travelling across the cosmos, shepherding the worlds that had been seeded when the Great Tree was spreading its branches through the whole of Ea. Acting on Eru's behalf, it was Gandalf who brought the invitation of seeding new worlds to all of the races. Arda had grown to small for all of them and it was time to be dispersed across Ea. In the days to come, Eru had no doubt that the industry of both men and elves that Mairon had so wanted to see reach flower, would allow them to make these journeys themselves. However, for now, Eru would give them passage to the new worlds. The worlds that were known to the elves as Carnil, the children of Aiwenórë and Lumbar were more familiar to Man as Mars, Ganymede, Europa and Titan respectively.
Thus the elves were charged with building new Grey ships that would take travellers through Eru's passage. The Teleri, led by Cirdan the master shipwright, threw themselves into the duty with the excitement of giddy children. For the first time in too long, there would be new seas to sail, new lands to chart. While modern thinking could not even begin to grasp how ships constructed by the elves alone could make a space voyage, there was no doubting Eru's word that these worlds awaited them. Through the Hubble Telescope, the scientific community saw that the surface of Mars, famously known as the red planet was now a lush, green world with oceans that looked not unlike Earth itself. Furthermore, NASA confirmed similar findings on Europa, Ganymede and Titan through transmissions from their Juno and Cassini probes.
The elves left it to the leaders of men to decide who should go and should remain behind. While many viewed the journey to a new world with some trepidation, particularly when they were so accustomed to their creature comforts, there were many who bore the pioneering spirit and were eager to traverse the lands of an alien world to build a new life. Some did not have to travel that far to achieve the same end. The healing of Arda had opened up new areas of previously uninhabitable terrain and like the migratory shift of birds, the people of those once barren lands were taking advantage of it.
And so it was that the great upheaval that would be known in the years to come as the Age of Reawakening had begun.
Eighteen months after the fall of Sauron, Miranda Miller stood on wooden dock that overlooked the Bay of Eldamar and Tol Eressëa.
With the veil between Valinor and Arda in place, the harsh North Sea winds had replaced with the warm breeze and sunny weather of the Blessed Realm. She took a deep of the salty air and let her gaze settle over the magnificently crafted Grey ship that was moored next to the dock. When they sailed, Miranda thought they looked like swans coming in for landing and it took her breath away every time. With a sigh, she knew that soon, her opportunity to see the Grey ships sail would be limited and she took in the sight of the vessel with the affection of one who knew their time in Valinor was reaching an end.
A slow smile stole across her face, when she saw Aaron and Legolas on deck, supervising the transport of supplies and equipment from the Anemone into the ship’s cargo hold. Apparently both had their own ideas on how this was to be done and the cargo master who was actually doing the loading was starting to shoot daggers at the two in frustration. Sometimes those two could tax even an elves’ good nature it seemed.
Turning back to Eve, Miranda saw the new mother fussing over baby Bryan who had objection to the cap she was trying to secure on his brow. The infant frowned, wriggling in her arms in an effort to escape. He was walking and with his new found mobility, wanted to get into everything. Much like his namesake, Miranda thought with a smile.
“Are you sure this is the thing to do?” Miranda asked Eve.
“Absolutely,” Eve answered, giving up and stuffing the knit cap into her baby bag before facing Miranda, Bryan held securely in her arms. “The world’s getting too crazy for our liking. I mean you’re safe here but out there,” she cast her gaze at the horizon as if she could see the modern world beyond Valinor. “We’re not so sure.”
Miranda could understand that. The last eighteen months had seen the world going through a kind of social and spiritual upheaval. With religious groups now in constant argument about accepting Eru as God, scientific circles coming to grips with the reality that were forces beyond their understanding and the fabric of society being rewritten to include of elves and dwarves, Eve and Aaron weren’t alone in wanting to abandon Earth for something simpler.
She just wasn’t sure taking a Grey Ship to another planet was the answer. Of course, Miranda’s objections were purely selfish ones because it was really about missing them when they left.
“It seems like such a long way,” Miranda sighed with disappointment as she looked over her shoulder to see where the children were at. Sam, Pip and Fred were currently playing in the sand, running across the dunes and laughing like loons. Despite the farewells being made today, she couldn’t help but smile seeing them play. Almost two years after Sauron’s defeat, Fred was finally coming out of her shell and Miranda was glad for it. With two boys already, she rather liked having a little girl to fuss over.
“I know,” Eve took a step forward and squeezed Miranda’s shoulder with affection. “But I think it’s the right decision for us. We’ll never be able to live in the world again and there’s only so much sight seeing you can do in Valinor before boredom sets in. Going to a new world, it’s a chance to build something special. Besides, we won’t be the only humans there. The Grey Ships have been taking people to Europa for two months now. We’ll be like the pilgrims.”
“Yeah because that worked out so well for the Indians,” Eric called out as he and Lori Hill approached them after stepping onto the deck.
It was Lori’s first trip to Valinor and Eric had made it a point to join her because he wanted to say goodbye to Aaron, Eve, Legolas and Ariel before they left for the new land. Since the day of Sauron’s fall, they’d been dating regularly and although neither admitted how deeply they were committed to each other, it seemed like it would be only a matter of time before the words were exchanged. As it was, Eric was talking about relocating to America permanently. As one of the few humans who had lived with the elves before they were known to the world, Eric was finally able to tell the stories he’d accumulated about the place.
“Very funny,” Eve made a face at him. “Like the Aboriginals had such a great time after you convicts showed up.”
“Yeah you tell ‘em,” Lori laughed, her American pride demanding solidarity with Eve.
“Bloody Yanks,” Eric grinned, putting an arm around Lori.
“I’m glad you guys are here,” Eve smiled at them both. “We’ll be heading off soon. I didn’t want to miss the chance to say goodbye.”
“Likewise,” Lori said sharing the sentiment. After Romania, they’d all gotten to know each other very well and Lori was glad that after everything he’d gone through, Aaron had managed to retrieve his wife. “Being here has been amazing. My dad talks about the place all the time.”
It seemed almost serendipitous that Lori was related to Captain Isaiah Hill, the naval commander who had first sighted Valinor when it was cut off from the Blessed Realm. Lori’s service in the defeat of Sauron had earned Lori passage to Valinor even if she still needed an elf to ferry her to the island.
“Where is he anyway?” Miranda asked. She hadn’t seen they had parted company in England. While Miranda had accompanied Aaron and the others in pursuit of Eve, the Captain had taken his submarine and lent his assistance to the English ships fighting the Watchers in the Channel. Later on he and Cirdan led the Teleri fleets against the creatures while everyone else was at the fortress.
“Fishing with Cirdan,” Lori said with a smile, recalling the morning when the master shipwright had come to collect her father for the trip. Since their first meeting, her father and Cirdan had become fast friends and it was Cirdan who had brought them both to Valinor for this visit. “You know how it goes when two old sea dogs get together. Its like watching highlights from Grumpy Old Men.”
The visual of Cirdan and Captain Hill in a small dingy arguing about fish and Sophia Loren made Miranda laugh out loud. “That’s a sight worth seeing.”
“Speaking of movies,” Eve turned her eye at Eric, “I hear Hollywood is calling.” Miranda had told her of Eric’s sudden celebrity thanks to his connection to Valinor.
Eric burst into a grin, “well thanks to the history of Middle Earth, Hollywood has some new material to mine other than the latest Justice League and the Avengers team up on the big screen. I’m being asked to write scripts about the War of the Ring. Some furry Kiwi thinks it will make a good movie but who wants to film in New Zealand?”
The idea did seem somewhat far fetched.
Lori’s attention shifted to the ship docked along side of them. It was a beautifully built vessel that moved as if it was gliding across the water instead of sailing through it. As she studied the ship from stern to stern, she still tried to wrap her mind around the fact that this craft was going to take Eve and the others to another planet. “So this thing is really going to get you across space?” She asked, her voice still reflecting the incredulity of it all.
“Well I don’t understand all of it,” Eve explained as best she could. Gandalf had explained it to her and Eve found it difficult to believe herself. “It’s like any sea voyage except sometime during the night and before morning, the ship crosses over and at dawn, you’re still on the sea but you’re on the sea in the new world.”
“If you’re going to travel to another planet, that’s the way to do it, Eric remarked having shed his doubt after transmissions had been received from the first settlers on Mars. “So you’re joining Elladan and Elrohir?” He asked further, aware that the twins had been one of the first to travel to Europa.
“Yep,” Eve nodded as she handed baby Bryan to Miranda while she did a check of her belongings yet to be loaded onto the ship. “You know those two. They couldn’t wait to take off and explore a whole new moon.”
“And Elrond?” Eric asked, unable to imagine the patriarch bearing the thought of his children so far away from them.
“He and Celebrían will be coming later,” Eve explained, aware that her elvish parents had not wanted to be separated from their children for too long. He just wants to do a proper handover to Galadriel before he leaves.” Since he was departing, Elrond was turning over his duties as a member of the United Nations Council to Galadriel, since he felt that she was more appropriate to speak for elvendom than he.
“Bout time you guys got here!” Aaron called out from the gangplank as he and Legolas stepped unto the dock from the boat. The two had spent most of the morning loading up all the supplies needed for their journey, including solar generators, camping gear and their belongings on the Anemone. Travelling to another planet was all well and good but Eve was not going anywhere if she couldn’t watch her DVDs or power up her laptop to say nothing about everything they'd need for the baby. Aaron had more practical concerns since as a human doctor, his skills would be in demand and he wanted to have a good quantity of medical supplies as was necessary.
“Are we almost ready to set sail?” Eve asked Aaron as he joined them.
“Yes,” Legolas replied as he caught a glimpse of Ariel who was emerging from the lower decks after securing the horses for the voyage. “The winds are good and the sea is calm."
"I hope so," Ariel declared, her excellent elven hearing picking up the thread of the conversation. when she joined "The horses do not travel well beneath the decks and it will not aid the situation if the journey is turbulent." Of course there was nothing about this trip that was a normal sea voyage. "If not you and I will be spending the voyage trying to settle them down." She said to Legolas.
"I hope it is calm," Eve added, "the last thing we need is rough seas for the baby. It wasn't too bad when we came back a year ago. He was too little to notice but choppy weather is not good for his stomach." She pointed out.
"He'll be fine," Aaron said confidently as he took the little Bryan from her. “How you doing Tyke?” he asked as he hoisted his son child above his head and then blew bubbles on the infant's tummy that produced a burst of happy chortles.
“That just sounds wrong coming from an American,” Frank Miller grimaced as he approached them, having rounded up Fred, Sam and Pip to say their goodbyes to the travellers. “He’s not even English, let alone from Yorkshire. I blame you.” Frank gave Miranda an accusing stare.
Miranda gave him a playful wink in turn and smirked, "well if he's going to be named after Bryan, he should have the nickname too."
Despite his complaints however, Miranda knew that Frank was thrilled that Aaron and Eve had chosen to name their child after Bryan.
“He’ll know what I mean,” Aaron smiled affectionately at his son. “So you sure we can’t convince you guys to come with us?” He was going to miss these people greatly. After two years, they had become his extended family and leaving them was going to be hard.
“No,” Frank shook his head. “Miranda and I are staying put in England. The kids will be starting school in a few months. I’ve got a teaching position in Oxford and truth be told, we want to give the kids a little bit of normal after everything we’ve been through the last few years.”
“School,” Pip made a face. “Why can’t we stay here? The elves can teach us everything we need to know.” For Pip, going back to England and school was like waking up after having a wonderful dream about a fairy tale land.
“Spoken like your son,” Frank stated.
“Oh it will be fun,” Eric nudged the little boy. “Cartoons, McDonalds and EuroDisney. Not to mention I have a girlfriend who flies jets. She can take all three of you for rides...”
“Hey!” Lori declared, swatting him on the shoulder, drawing laughter from the children and adults alike.
Suddenly, Fred came forward and tugged at Eve’s blouse. She looked at Eve with that sad, haunted expression that Miranda hadn’t seen since the first weeks after Bryan’s death.
“Yes honey?” Eve dropped her gaze to the little girl who was looking at her shyly.
Fred reached into her coat and pulled out a stuffed teddy bear that looked as if it had seen better days. Bryan had bought it for her the day after he’d rescued her from Cardiff, when the Nazgul had murdered his parents. She remembered how he’d taken her to the shops to buy clothes and had given her the bear because that’s what he thought little girls ought to have. Fred had kept it with her since that day.
“This is for the baby,” she said softly. “Bryan bought it for me. I use to sleep with it I don’t need it anymore.” Fred glanced at Miranda and almost brought the woman to tears. However Miranda managed to maintain her composure.
Eve felt her heart ache at the gesture and dropped to her knees so that she could look Fred in the eye. Leaning forward, she planted a soft kiss on Fred’s forehead and took the toy, holding it to her chest to show Fred how deeply it touched her. “Thank you Fred. I’ll make sure the baby knows where it came from and who he’s named after.”
Fred smiled, pleased at that.
Sam came up along side of her and took her hand in his. “See Fred, we’ll always remember Uncle Bryan and Uncle Jason.” All the talk about Uncle Bryan dying and Sam wanted to remind everyone that Jason Merrick had also died trying to save him and Pip.
“Amen to that,” Eric replied, ruffling the boy’s hair in gratitude. “He’d be bloody stoked about going to Hollywood and meeting all those movie stars.” He still found the loss of his best friend profoundly and appreciated it when he felt Lori’s fingers intertwining between his.
“It seems I have arrived at the right moment,” the familiar voice of Gandalf declared behind them.
“Moses!” Aaron exclaimed, grateful to see the arrival of the old man because the mood was getting way too sombre for his liking. It was going to be hard enough when they left without reminding themselves of the people who weren’t around to say goodbye.
“We thought that you might have decided to remain here,” Legolas smiled, his arm coiling around his wife’s waist.
“A wizard arrives when he means to and never before,” Gandalf said with great dignity as he joined them. “I see that you have begun without me.”
“We certainly have not,” Ariel declared. “Your things are on board and your barrel of leaf.”
“Barrel? You got him a whole barrel?”
“Ennerdale Flake,” Eric replied. “I picked it for him on the way here.”
“Did you bring the nicotine patches too?” Aaron asked aghast.
“You do not change Gandalf,” Legolas laughed and then swept his gaze over his friends and his lovely wife. In truth, they had all changed in some shape or form no matter how much time changed them, their friendship remained as strong as it had been when the Fellowship was formed in Rivendell.
They were going their separate ways now as they had done in the Fourth Age, embarking upon new adventures and new destinies. However, Legolas was no longer saddened by the loss because if the last few years had proven anything to him, they would find always find each other again.
************
Somewhere in the distant future....
The boy ran along the beach, the blond hair that in bad need of a haircut bounced around his ears as he ran along the shore. Above him, the faint outline of the ringed planet could be seen in the afternoon sky. The white foam of surf swirled around his ankles as the splashing water of his steps soaked the rolled up legs of his pants. He was a lanky at the age of eleven, with hazel coloured eyes and a rogue’s smile on his lips that the girl behind him found irresistible. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure she was still behind him, he slowed his pace and let her catch up to him.
She was a pretty thing, with strawberry coloured hair and eyes so green he sometimes thought looking into them was like staring into the sea. She was wearing a plain cotton dress of yellow, with tiny pink flowers and when she ran, it swirled around her like a wave. She’d come up to him at school one day and told him that she liked him. The boy wasn’t sure what to do with that at first even though he couldn’t lie that it wasn’t the first time he’d noticed her.
That night after she said she liked him, he had a dream about her.
He wasn’t young like he was now but a grown man. A knight in fact, like in those stories he’d read about in books. He carried a sword and a great horn of white. He didn’t know how he knew that man in the dream was him but he knew her. She was there too. He recognised her eyes. Like him, she was grown up and she looked like a fairy tale princess and when she smiled at him in the dream, he knew instantly, she was his princess.
“Benjamin Meers!” She called out after him. “Wait for me!”
He feigned impatience as he waited for her to reach him and then complained, “You’re such a girl Tara. I thought you said you could keep up?”
“I’m not as tall as you,” she grumbled. “I can’t run as fast. I don’t want to fall behind and get lost.”
He stared at her for a moment, looking at her long and hard before her reached for her hand and held it in his. Her cheeks bloomed with colour and he found himself smiling that rogue’s smile she liked so much before saying, “don’t worry. I’ll always find you.”