Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: The Patient (#4412)
Author: Scribe
Chapters: 11

Archive: Tolkien
Category: Alternate Universe (AU)
Description: Complete - When Dr Aaron Stone is asked to conduct a psychiatric examination of a patient with severe schizophrenia, he becomes the key to unlocking a mystery that alters everything he knows of the world and his own past.
Published: 28 Mar 2012
Updated: 28 Mar 2012
Warnings: 
Type: Action/adventure
Characters: Gandalf; Legolas; Aragorn


Chapter 1 - The Changing World

The world changes. 
 
She who was once called the Evenstar had said this often during her lifetime.  She said it as a testimony to the rapids her own existence had become, particularly after her choice of a mortal life. Those who knew her in the flesh remembered her fondly for she was difficult to forget, especially in the minds of the immortals. Nurtured in loving memory, the words remained when the images of her faded away as time tumbled forward as it inevitably did.   She, like the rest of the world they knew, which disappeared into the horizon of the sea they had crossed in a time so distant, had become that most intangible of things, myth.
 
Still even myths are mortal though they take far longer to die.  Thus it came to pass that the realm called Middle earth vanished forever into the mists, forgotten in every aspect save a faint trace of sensation whenever one happened along the places it once had been.  The world took on a different shape in the hands of its inheritors, the race that came from Hildorien who survived the changes despite their memories being too short to perpetuate the history of what had been.  They were flames that burnt bright but brief.  Their cities rose and fell.  They conquered and were conquered. Their seed spread to all corners of the globe and though they knew something amiss, for they felt trace of magic retained in memory that brought sparkle to their eyes when they tried to remember, they never could find it. 
 
The golden age of man came and went without any one remembering it. The great kings of past were forgotten like their kingdoms, disintegrated into a world of bitter struggle, devoid of wonder and magic.  The men who followed in the aftermath were of an entirely different breed from those that emerged from Hildorien.  They were ambitious and driven to master their domain in every manner possible.  If there was land, they conquered it.  If there were beasts, they tamed them and if there was any enemy, they destroyed it with a precision that would have frightened even the foulest of orcs. 
 
Ironically, man’s finest moments in history were often accompanied by his bloodiest.
 
They still craved the beauty of that earlier age when as race they had been young and innocent though they held no tangible memories of it.  In their hearts, they felt its absence and often wondered when the starlight had vanished from their lives.  They sought to recreate it in their endeavors, either in reaching for impossible goals or replacing the awe and wonder of those earlier times with myths of their own, though these were often badly constructed and led to more destruction then any real good. Finally, they came to think that there was no such thing as magic and wonder, that it had been a fanciful illusion and abandoned their search for it altogether. 
 
 If there was any innocence left to the race of men, it was burned away forever the moment wonder was given up for reason.  
 
In the wake of its destruction, the world and the men who lived in it continued their existence in a juggernaut of change, not always for the better.  An insatiable need arose to conquer all frontiers and when those were exhausted, the snake began feeding upon itself, slowly reaching implosion.  It was only a matter of time before someone chose to take advantage of this chaos and turn the cycle of change into the spiral of Armageddon.  Ironically, it was the search for the very thing that they had been missing in themselves that allowed this catastrophe to find its root in the new world. 

It should have answered all their questions and filled the void inside of them.  Instead, it would destroy them.
 
 ************\r\n\r\n 
 
Behind the veil that separates one world from another, the immortals lived in a strange sort of stasis.  They enjoyed beauty, tranquility and peace in a realm that was remained unchanged over the course of thousands of years. For most part they were content, though some took too leaving their enchanted world on occasion, curiosity of the outside world compelling them to see what had become of Middle earth in their absence.  Most returned rather quickly, while some did not return at all and the stories brought back were often conducive to discouraging those who might feel the urge to journey abroad from doing so.  The immortals came to the firm conclusion that the world had been spoiled by the race of men and it was best to wash their hands of it. 
 
There came a time when all journeys past the enchanted isles halted all together for the immortals had received their fill of the world beyond them and had no wish to dwell on times that were long past in a present that had nothing to redeem itself.  They devoted themselves to the finer things of life and became more removed from its harsher realities then ever before.  The dark times of the early ages melted away into distant memory and after awhile, it was almost difficult to remember that they had once battled such creatures as Melkor, his servant Sauron and their demons.  While the Valar became even more unapproachable with the passing ages, the First Born who shared Valinor with them were a little more grounded. 
 
They remembered fondly the world behind and mourned the changes it had suffered since their departure. They thought kindly of men, knowing that it was unfair to judge a race whose lives were so finite when they had the luxury of all the time there was.  Mortals were not evil, they were simply young and the nature of their existence ensured they would never live long enough to gain wisdom like the immortal elves.  Even when the Eldar had existed in Middle earth, they had come to accept the mortals as children that needed guidance.  Being sequestered away in Valinor for almost a hundred thousand years did not change that perception among them.
 
Perhaps it was because they were so removed from danger and evil, that they were taken completely by surprised when they felt tremors of chaos so fierce that not even the barrier protecting Valinor from the rest of the world could keep it out.   It was like the sun slipping behind the clouds for an instance, taking with the heat and leaving a brief interlude of cold.  The chill was felt by every one, even the Valar and though they could not discern what had caused, they knew something was emerging, something dark and terrible was beginning to take root in the outside world.
 
Following the incident, there was much rumbling of discourse emanating from Ilmarin, the mansions of the Valar Lord Manwe, at the peak of Mount Taniquetil.  The Eldar held their breaths in anticipation as the Valar debated what to do. While the cause of the tremor was not made clear to them, its urgency could not be denied by the reaction of the Valar in how to deal with it.  For the first time in so many ages, the Valar had been shaken out of their complacency to act, though the Eldar could not fathom what could force them to do so. 

Finally, a decision was made and like so long ago, Manwe chose his servant to go forth from the Timeless Halls into the world beyond Valinor, to deal with the danger that would undoubtedly consume both worlds if ignored.   He set this task to Olorin, a Maia who had distinguished himself greatly in the eyes of all during the Second and Third Age when he had been instrumental in the downfall of Melkor’s dark servant, Sauron. He was also one of the two surviving ‘walkers’ in the Fellowship of the Ring, the other being the Sindar elf, Legolas Greenleaf. Olorin who returned to the Timeless Halls and dwelled in the company of Nienna the Compassionate after his labours in Middle earth was done, accepted the duty before him without question and prepared for his departure across the Enchanted Sea. 
 
Legolas offered to accompany Olorin on his great mission but the Maia declined citing that the world beyond did not have much use for elves and may not receive Legolas well. Fearing that his presence would complicate an already difficult quest, Olorin set out across the sea alone.  
 
He did not return. 
 
For a while, the Valar could sense their agent in the other world, could feel his mind and thoughts as he conducted himself on their behalf.  However, it was not long before that connection was severed and from then on, Olorin became as great a mystery to those at Valinor as the evil that had inspired his journey.  They thought he might be dead but if that were so, his soul would have returned to Mandos.  
 
Wherever Olorin had disappeared, he remained lost for the next four hundred years.


Chapter 2 - John Doe

In what passed for the modern world, there was no place that epitomised it more than New York City.

The twentieth century in all its grandeur, its mechanized momentum and dynamically driven pulse lived and breathed in the city that heralded Wall Street, the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building.  The people who walked its streets felt the power of it.  It had as much to do with their identity as genetic make up.   Whoever coined the term ‘urban jungle’ was undoubtedly thinking of New York, even if he did not know it.  The name alone, conjured images, from people a world away, of rapidly evolving progress that quickened the breath merely thinking of it. 

Even in the wake of its greatest tragedies, New York seemed to take its defeats like a punched drunk prized fighter who did not know when to quit.  These days the arrogance of the typical New Yorker had bled away to a quiet strength and a sense of self worth that had risen in the face of adversity. The evidence of the destruction was everywhere, even when it was slight.  It could be the gapping emptiness where so many had lost their lives in a cataclysmic expression of human madness, or a dying flower against a bitumen pavement. Inadvertently, one would find themselves at the same place, no matter what triggered their memory to begin with.  

A New Yorker still walked the streets like he owned it but now it was with the knowledge that he earned the right to be there. 

Doctor Aaron Stone was present at one of the first hospitals to be assailed with casualties after the hijacking and the subsequent destruction of the World Trade Centre.  

He was a doctor who never quite left residency.  He should have been conducting medicine from a leather wing chair in some Park Avenue address but could never bring himself to leave the frantic activity of the hospital where he had begun his medical career.  In truth, he had every intention of becoming a surgeon when he first enrolled in medical school but by the first year of residency, he had decided that psychiatry was what he truly wished to do.  The healing of the mind became an infinitely more important field of medicine to him and until the tragedy of the World Trade Centre; he had never questioned that decision.

When the casualties were brought in with horrific injuries from debris, fire and other symptoms of the fallout following the destruction of the twin towers, he suddenly realised that he wanted to heal flesh as well as the mind.  Fulfilling the necessary requirements, Aaron divided his time between the hospital emergency room and the psychiatric ward.  While some might think it frivolous, Aaron felt he had achieved some form of balance at least in his own conscience, in being the doctor he wanted to be.   It certainly helped him sleep better at nights, even if his dreams were rather strange.

He did not give them much thought although he wondered what Freud would think of the vague dreams that left him with the sensation that something in his existence was lacking and he could not for the life of him discern what it was.  For as long as he knew, he lived with this strange void inside of him that no amount of conscience pandering decisions could fill.  It was a peculiar to feel incomplete, particularly when he had unburdened himself of the limitations most people placed on their lives by fear or by circumstances. It seemed to creep at him especially at night, when he looked up into the twilight sky and found himself staring at the stars like the secret to all the questions in the world was waiting for him in their light. 

There was no reason for him to feel unfilled after all; as lives went he had a pretty good one.  It was beset with its own tragedies, in particular the loss of his parents and since he was an only child, it was hard not to feel alone particularly during the holidays and birthdays. He had acquaintances but only a few close friends. He seldom had a woman in his life long enough to consider it a relationship and his colleagues seemed to think he was the handsome doctor enjoying the bachelor life to the utmost.  However if anyone had asked Aaron, it would have surprised them to know that it was not that at all.  

He was searching for someone who did not exist. 

She did somewhat in his dreams, though if he were asked to describe her or the circumstances of their encounters in the dreamscape, he would have been hard pressed to answer.  Yet when he did dream of her, he impact on him was more than just the image of some ideal fantasy woman but rather being flooded with a burst of emotion. It was passion and deep abiding love combined into a rather potent mix that awoke him with that same feeling that his life was not all that it should be.   Aaron wondered if he felt this way because a feeling of displacement dogged his whole life. 

There were times when he was visited with flashes of insight that told him where he should be for no other reason then because it felt right.  Like the day he had decided to go to the hospital because some instinct compelled him to do so and then found himself surrounded by a deluge of patients following the tragedy of the terrorists’ attacks.  His premonition had allowed him to be on hand to help and it was an event he did not regret being thrust into.  There was deep sense of satisfaction in knowing that his actions had helped to ease the burden of that terrible day. 

Fortunately, there was no instinctual reason governing his presence in the hospital today, other than paperwork. Despite being one of the most respected doctors on staff, he was often on the verge of violating dress codes because his choice of his wardrobe did not extend itself beyond jeans, sneakers and a long sleeved t-shirt. When he was required to face patients, he donned on a respectable white coat but did not hold with the notion that he had to look the part when it was enough that the he was a doctor.  His dark hair was not exactly long but it could not be considered short either and though he was nearing middle age, there had been many of times he had been mistaken for a first year resident.

The psychiatric ward was busy today. As he made his way towards his office, his gaze registered briefly the non-violent patients wandering through the hallways, lost completely or partially in their own psychosis, awaiting evaluation so they can be transferred to either state run or privately funded psychiatric hospitals.  Orderlies remained visible while they kept a close eye on them and nurses hurried from place to place with medication.  It disturbed him that there were so many patients that he had become indifferent to them but he supposed these were the calluses doctors were meant to grow over their feelings in order to ensure professional objectivity.  The words sounded impressive but the practice was surprisingly hard for many.

”Doctor Stone!” Aaron heard his name echoing down the hallway from behind him. The voice was familiar to him because he knew most of the people on staff and was able to narrow down the possibilities. 

Aaron turned around and saw Warren Sheldon, one of the second year psychiatric residents on staff walking towards him.  It was early morning and judging by the bleary eyed look on Warren’s face, it appeared the young man had been on call last night.  Warren was an able young man but Aaron was certain as soon as he was done with his residency, the extent of his psychiatric practice was going to be listening to rich matrons telling him what was wrong with the world and why breast implants would cure all of it for them. 


”You’re still here Warren?” Aaron said with some measure of surprise because someone else would have taken over Warren’s shift by now and he really did look like he needed the sleep.  The young man’s light blond hair was ruffled as if he had ran his fingers through it too many times and he appeared more sallow looking then usual. 

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about a John Doe that was brought in last night,” he remarked rubbing the bridge of his nose, a gesture Aaron had come to associate with Warren preparing to refer him a case that was too much for him.  

“Tell me about it on my way to my office,” Aaron retorted and resumed walking, fully expecting Warren to follow.

“Well he’s an old guy about Moses age I’m sure. Anyhow, NYPD picked him up last night for causing some kind of disturbance outside the Malcolm Building. He’s got severe hallucinations and it took both cops to get him into a squad care.”

”Pretty strong for a guy Moses’ age,” Aaron commented. “Is that his file?”

“Yeah,” Warren nodded and handed the manila folder over. “We tested him for chemical abuse and the only thing of note was the amount of nicotine in his system. The guy should have lung cancer with how much he’s smoking instead he’s in pretty good shape for someone that old.”

“What about any neurological abnormalities?” Aaron asked.

“Nothing,” Warren shook his head. “No irregularities whatsoever. It’s not the wiring.”

Aaron gave him a look, “that’ a professional opinion ‘doctor’?”

“I mean he has all the symptoms of schizophrenia,” Warren answered a little flustered. Aaron suspected the hours were catching up on him. “But it just doesn’t feel right.”

Aaron studied the file before him and could not deny that there were gaps in their knowledge of the patient that prevented them from making an accurate diagnosis at this point.  The patient had no identification whatsoever, preventing them from retrieving any records regarding previous medical history. Aaron could see why Warren was reluctant to act on his own because this was a case that would require the evaluation of someone far more experienced than a first year psychiatric resident. 

“You go on and get some rest,” Aaron answered after a moment. “I’ll go see Moses.  Is he lucid?”

“Yeah,” Warren nodded. “When he calmed down he was pretty lucid but any discussion about where he came from did make him agitated.”

“Enough to be violent?” Aaron stared at him in question.

“I’m not sure,” Warren answered with clear uncertainty. 

“Sounds interesting,” Aaron frowned, not really up for this today and sighed with resignation at the fact that he needed a secretary if he ever wanted his paper work done.   “On your way out, get one of the nurses to move Moses into my office. I’ll see him as soon as he’s ready.”

 ************\r\n\r\n 


A short time later, Aaron found himself staring across the floor at the man designated John Doe.

Warren’s estimation of his age was understandable now that Aaron came face to face with him.  The man was clearly in his late sixties with a long flowing beard and an equally long hair that sometimes appeared white instead of grey.  Even his eyebrows were grey and bushy and seemed to curl outward from his brow.  His blue green eyes seemed a little dazed but this was to be expected since he had been dosed heavily with Thorazine the night before.  Enough time had passed to allow the full brunt of the drug’s effects on the patient to wan a little so Aaron could conduct a somewhat productive first evaluation without fear of Moses/ John Doe becoming violent. 

Doctor and patient stared across the space between them for a few minutes as if a mutual evaluation was being undertaken.  Aaron sat in his chair with a note pad in hand, watching the man react to being observed.  He tried to picture this old man causing a disturbance outside the Malcolm building and could not deny being sceptical at the fact that this person would try to harm anyone.  Something deeper than instinct told Aaron that the patient was ill, not dangerous.  

“May I have a glass of water?” The old man spoke first, his voice beginning as a croak but then evolved into clear, and erudite with a trace of accent that could have been English. 

“Certainly,” Aaron poured a glass of water from the jug resting on the side table next to his chair before handing the receptacle to his patient. 

”I feel uncommonly parched,” John Doe commented before taking the glass and adding his thanks to the end of his statement. 

“Thorazine can do that,” Aaron answered in understanding.  

“I do not like the concoctions you put in my veins,” John Doe replied giving him a look after he drained the contents of the glass.

“You were dangerous,” Aaron said not about to apologise for anything.  The best way to gain a patient’s trust was simple honestly He found nothing worked better. No psychiatric buzzwords that made little sense to them or patronizing tones of empathy, just plain sincerity.   “We had to give you something to calm you down.”

“Yes, yes,” the man rumbled impatiently, shifting in his seat, “so they tell me.”

“You don’t remember?” Aaron asked gently taking note of it on the pad. 

“No,” he said shortly.

“Do you often have memory problems?” 

“I don’t know,” he replied, his lips began to quiver slightly; as if he were nearing a place he did not wish to be.  Aaron made a mental note to pull back to safer ground for the moment.  “The benefit of having memory problems is not remembering that you have a memory problem.”

A small smile cracked Aaron’s lips, “good point.  What do you remember?”

“Walking up in this place,” his gaze shifted away from Aaron’s, as he replied, “nothing more.”

“You don’t know what you did yesterday?” 

“No,” the patient said sourly. 

Aaron could tell that he was just as unhappy about this as everyone else.  The response sparked a wave of curiosity within the doctor about his patient who was dressed in hospital pyjamas in a blue sterile colour that seemed out of place on the rest of him. There was something about the man that Aaron could not put his finger on, something that convinced the doctor he was not dealing with any run of the mill schizophrenic, if indeed that was what he was.  The patient’s eyes seemed a little glazed but that was more due to the medication he had been given to subdue his violent outburst during admittance.  Deciding he did not want to push the patient in the first session, Aaron decided to move onto a new subject of discussion.

“You weren’t in any condition to give us your name last night,” Aaron remarked. ‘Care to tell us what it is? I don’t really want to be calling you John Doe during our sessions.”

A furrow appeared on those bushy eyebrows and the blue eyes stared at him with hesitation, “I don’t know what I am called.  I told you I don’t remember anything more than what I’ve said.  Is badgering me with foolish questions your way to help me Thorongil?”

Aaron blinked and stared at the man. “Excuse me?” 

John Doe looked back at him just as perplexed, “what?”

“You just called me by a name,” Aaron pointed out. 

“I did?” The old man regarded Aaron sceptically.

“You called me Thorongil,” the doctor reminded his patient. 

“I don’t know why,” Moses met his eyes and Aaron could see the sincerity in his answer, not to mention the genuine puzzlement, “it just slipped out. It felt…appropriate.”

Aaron arched a brow at that statement and made a note of it.  The patient did not seem violent but then he was not about to underestimate the effects of 500 cc of Thorazine on a person either.  He did want to see what the man was like without the medication because at this time, Aaron was finding it difficult to make a diagnosis from this session alone. 

“We have to think of something to call you,” Aaron remarked offhandedly. “If we’re going to continue talking to each other, I think I would prefer to call you something other than John Doe.”

“How many of these talks are we likely to have?” John Doe looked at him pointedly, a trace of urgency in his voice. 

“I’m not sure,” Aaron confessed. “Until we find out what your name is and why being outside the Malcolm Building upset you so much.”

Suddenly, Aaron noticed his patient tensing visibly in his chair. Relaxed hands were soon clenched into fists, his back straightened and the muscles of his jaw flexed involuntarily.  He was angry and barely able to restrain it, Aaron deduced.  

“You seemed disturbed,” Aaron probed gently, doubtful if he would get an answer that made any sense. “Is there something about the Malcolm Building that upsets you?"

”It is a place of darkness!” John Doe snapped rising to his feet and seemed to tower over the doctor as his voice altered, becoming deeper and more forceful.  It was a voice that made Aaron beware, not for his life but because for a brief insane moment, he was almost ready to believe the old man. 

“Sit down,” Aaron said calmly, determined to maintain control of the session. “Please,” he added to make it easier for the man to obey. 

He looked at Aaron with a start, as if he suddenly remembered where he was and the burst of anger subsided, once again replaced by confusion.

“Why do you think it’s a place of darkness?” Aaron could not believe he was using such a melodramatic term.  This is the kind of conversation one had when one was describing the plot to the latest George Lucas epic, not a psychiatric session. 

“I don’t know,” John Doe replied once more, his expressions strained. “I don’t know anything. I just feel.”

“It’s alright John,” Aaron replied gently, feeling a surge of pity for this old man who was so displaced in the world.  Who was he in the world, when he was far away from this place? Did he have a wife or children, or even grandchildren since his age allowed for the possibility. “You don’t have to tell me until you’re ready.”

“I want to tell you,” he said softly, “I think I need to tell you.  I think I’ve been away for a long time and it’s important that I come back.”

“Admitting you have a problem is always a good step,” Aaron said offering him more assurance then was customary.  However, John appeared to need it. “We’ll find the answers together, I promise you. In the meantime, I hope you don’t mind if I won’t keep calling you John Doe. You’re not a person who doesn’t exist, you’re here and you’re my patient. How does Moses sound to you?”

“Moses?” One bushy eyebrow flew up. “You’re going to name me after a man with a bad sense of direction where mountains are concerned and masonry skills?”

“A bad sense of direction?” Aaron almost laughed.

“It does not take an inordinate amount of sense to discern that he was wandering on that mountain for 40 days because he was lost,” he rumbled, sounding very much like the cantankerous old men who waved canes at young children from their porch. “Certainly not enough to dedicate an entire testament to his affairs.”

“Alright then,” the doctor replied deciding he was not even going to bother arguing with him on this, “you tell me what to call you.”

A loud harrumphed followed before the patient retorted grumpily, “Moses will do.  I suppose under the circumstances I am in no position to take the high ground when it comes to sanity.”

 ************\r\n\r\n 

The ship appeared out of the mists in the middle of the North Sea almost three months before Doctor Aaron Stone was confronted with the patient he had temporarily named Moses.   Its arrival was understandably unnoticed because people tended to avoid travelling through the North Sea during the winter months. It was icy cold on a good day, let alone during winter.  Sheets of ice drifted hazardously above the dark water, pieces of flotsam jettisoned by the arctic pole and sure to spell death to any ship unfortunate enough to encounter them.  Icebergs, mists and usually turbulent waters made the North Sea a most inhospitable place, even for those who spent most their lives on the sea. 

If anyone had been present, they would have seen a ship not unlike a Roman trireme, with a trio of large white sails as grey as the mists it had just escaped. The ship was made of wood but was the carpentry that crafted it was beyond anything that had been seen anywhere in the world. It was a thing of beauty, crafted not by ship makers but rather the life’s work of an artist.  It moved across the choppy water as if it was gliding upon the waves, trailing a bed of foam as it surged towards its destination.  Amidst the singing voices of humpback whales, the ship did not seem quite real and anyone who saw it would most likely wonder whether or not they were dreaming. 

There were only three passengers on the craft that would seem big enough to accommodate more.  Three was all that was needed for this was a journey that they had each thought about making for so long.   The galley was stocked with food and water to reach their destination and back again and thus far, the trip had been without incident.  If anything it had been somewhat dull until they pierced through the veil and stole secretly into the world they had left behind them so long ago.  Once they left it, their trip became a little more exciting as it had been smooth sailing until that point.  Where they had been the sun shone brightly and the water was still.  There was enough breeze to power their sails and keep them cool.  It was idyllic.

Now they were trust into a place where the waves could rise almost as high as their masts, where it was grey and gloomy even though they could see the sun was above their heads.  Winds lashed at the travellers with sheet of rain and the air was charged with the periodic rumble of thunder and lighting. It was a stark reminder indeed of how truly far away from home they had chosen to venture. Those left behind had advised against the journey, calling it foolishness to venture from place of safety into the unknown, undoubtedly grown more barbaric since their departure. 

Legolas Greenleaf stood at the bow of his ship and saw nothing ahead but horizon of a grey sea, against an equally grey sky.  The wind was so cold that his pale skin was almost frozen but the notion of leaving the open space for the shelter of the craft’s innards did not occur to him.  It was too long since he felt anything as adverse as weather and he was rather enjoying it.   Valinor’s perfect weather was so constant that he no longer knew how to appreciate it.  A few months of this, he thought, and he would be happy to return home again. 

“You should come inside,” a voice advised him.

Looking over his shoulder, Legolas cast his gaze on Elladan who was wrapped in a thick warm cloak and had been good enough to bring him his own.   

“Thank you but I prefer to remain out here for a little longer,” Legolas said gratefully as he took the garment and slung it over his shoulders, before facing front again.

“How long do you think it will take us to cross this sea?” Elladan asked as he sat down on the deck behind Legolas.

“I do not know,” Legolas, answered truthfully, “a hundred millennia can change the shape of the world considerably. We sail what was once the western sea but we do not bear east to Mithlond but farther west then even where Valinor used to be when it still existed in this realm. We are most likely bound for what was once the eastern coast of the Sunlands.”

“Are you sure that is where we must go?” Elladan asked with concerned, aware that more than just their quest fired the passion of the Prince of Mirkwood.  

“It is the only clue we have to begin,” Legolas shrugged, unable to deny that the quest they had set themselves was difficult indeed for the scant information they had and the fact that they had emerged into a world that most likely remembered nothing of their kind.  

“He could be dead,” Elladan pointed out, knowing that this was a volatile subject to discuss with the prince, especially now that they had embarked upon this mission.  However, Elladan and his brother had placed themselves at risk just as Legolas had when they chose to accompany him on this journey.  That earned them both the right to speak their mind as far as Elladan was concerned, the right to make Legolas aware of the reality of the situation as well. 

“If he were dead, his soul would have returned to Mandos,” Legolas said tautly. “It has not so he must still live.”

“Legolas,” Elladan said gently, “no one wishes to think the worst but you must prepare yourself for the possibility. Much has changed in this world that we are unaware.  We may find that the reason there has been no word from Mithrandir could well be something has befallen him equal to death.”

“I refuse to believe that,” Legolas said firmly, his eyes staring out into the gloomy horizon. 

“You may not wish to but you must at least entertain the possibility,” Elladan insisted.

“I will speak of this to you no more,” Legolas declared, standing up abruptly to leave.

“Legolas,” Elladan stopped him before he could leave with a hand on his shoulder. “People die. It is an unfortunate reality of being what we are. We must accept it.”

Legolas turned to his old friend, his features softening a little because he could not deny that this truth was at the heart of the pain driving him to find Mithrandir. “I have done nothing but accept the fact that the price for immortality is to see all that I love die.  I held Melia’s hand when her life slipped beyond my reach and I sat at Aragorn’s bedside when he passed on.  I thought if Gimli were to journey with me to Valinor it would stave off the inevitable but I was wrong, he too left me in time. I will not be the last member of the Fellowship that still lives, Elladan.  I refuse to be left behind again. Mithrandir is alive and I will find him.”

Elladan could appreciate Legolas’ grief for he too, knew all too well what it was like to care for mortals and be helpless to prevent their eventual demise.  He had loved Aragorn and Gimli as well and Legolas was not the only one who lost someone close to his heart. “I understand your fear to be the last of the Nine Walkers but we have all lost.  Do you think the pain was any less for me when I learnt of Arwen’s passing? There was no reason for her to die but she allowed herself to do so anyway.  Her grief killed her Legolas, it killed her because she could not envision a life without Aragorn.”

Legolas saw the sorrow in Elladan’s eyes and felt his own heartache knowing that the Evenstar was gone from their lives.  So many of her words remained with him, even after so many thousands of years since her passing.  To this day, her family still mourned her passing.  Elrond would light a candle on day her life began as he had done so every year since Legolas had returned to Valinor and told him that his daughter was finally at rest with her king.  

“This does not have to be this way for you Legolas,” Elladan continued. “You have not lost as much as you think.  Melia passed on but we all know that her soul lives within Ariel and Ariel loves you.”

Legolas could not refute that and he did love the elven lady he had married shortly after returning to Valinor.  When he had lost Melia, Legolas had believed it was forever but the souls of humans did not go to Halls of Mandos in death.  Mithrandir had once told him that Eru had a different plan for the race of men and while they were not immortal, as the elves knew it, they did possess it in a way because their souls would always return to lead new lives.  When Legolas had met Ariel for the first time, he knew that Melia had come back to him. It was not the wife he knew and loved but his heart recognised her and since then they were seldom apart. 

If he had allowed her, she would have accompanied him on this journey but Legolas was not about to risk her life for anything, especially when what lay beyond Valinor was such a mystery.  However, he could not relinquish the idea that somewhere in the world, Mithrandir was in trouble and needed assistance.  The Valar would send no one else and Legolas suspected they were reluctant to send another in Olorin’s place when they knew not what had become of him.   For four centuries, Legolas had waited patiently for his old friend to return but with the passing of another millennia, he knew it was time to act.  Convincing Elladan and Elrohir to accompany him, Legolas was determined to find Mithrandir almost as much as he was determined not to be the last living member of the Fellowship.

“I know she does,” he turned to Elladan after a moment, “I ache that she is not here with me and I will ache every day that we are apart but this task must be done.”

“I know,” Elladan answered with a nod, admiring the prince of Mirkwood’s determination if not his sheer stubbornness. “I cannot say I understand the bond between you Walkers but I wish to see Mithrandir too if he is alive.”

“It is more than bond,” Legolas met Elladan’s eyes, “it is knowing that in my place, he would do no less for me. If it were I that was lost, Mithrandir would find me.”

Elladan hoped it would be as simple as all that, to simply find Mithrandir and hope that he was alive.  However, as their ship sailed further and further away from the comforting mists that kept them safely anonymous in this new world, Elladan could not help but thinking that it could be impossible to ever find the Istar again.

 ************\r\n\r\n 


Detective Eve McCaughley stared at the body. 

It had been floating in the river for some time now. She could tell by the deterioration of the skin and the location against the embankment that it had been brought here by the currents. It was probably dumped further upstream and had been slowly making its way down the river over the past few days. Rotting leaves and various other materials like twigs and insects had attached itself to the corpse during its journey downstream and upon coming to a halt at the embankment had provided a natural obstacle for the materials that usually floated down river.  It had remained in place until a family of three taking a morning walk through the park through which the river ran, had stumbled across the body.

Eve slipped on the latex glove over her hands as she knelt at the body exactly where it was found. She had ordered the patrolmen to keep the area clean and to keep a distance themselves to maintain the integrity of the crime scene for the forensics team and the medical examiner when they arrived.  Meanwhile, she prepared to make a preliminary exam of her own.  Lifting a small tape recorder to her lips she began speaking.  Eve had fallen into the tradition of making voice notes as she went along.  It helped considerably when it came time to type the report.

“Detective Eve McCaughley – homicide,” she began her narration.  “Victim appears to be a Caucasian male, 5 foot seven, 170 pounds, medium built with brown hair and blue eyes. His age appears to be anywhere from between the mid twenties to thirties.  Cause of death appears to be from a gunshot wound to the head.  The manner of the skull damage seemed to indicate that it could have been fired at point blank range.  The bullet entered the bridge of the nose, blowing out the back of the skull.  Ballistics cannot be confirmed at this stage but I’m guessing it’s a higher calibre gun, possibly a 45.  Victim is fully clothed wearing a suit, losing except one shoe but whether or not this because of the river or during the incident is difficult to say. The one that has remained on his foot is laced.   The suit looks expensive, possibly Armani so I’d say that he was a professional of some sort.”

“Detective McCaughley!” She heard a patrolman calling out to her and immediately turned off the recorder as he approached.  It was standard procedure to send out a few officers to canvass the area, particularly at the embankment of the river since it was possible that items on the body might have become dislodged.

Eve gazed across the green before her, covered in falling leaves and framed by trees along the river.  It was a nice area to go for a walk and the path for visitors ran only a few feet away, giving them a pleasant view of water.  It was the kind of place where you sailed model boats with your kids and had picnics.  It was much too pretty for the macabre discovery at the water’s edge.  The patrolman, an officer named Scavelli, approached her with something inside a zip lock bag.  Judging from the outline of it, Eve guessed Scavelli or one of his officers had found a wallet. 

“What have you found Sergeant?” She asked as he approached.

“One of my men found this,” he handed her the bag.

“By the river?” Eve questioned because the contents did not look as if it spent any time in the water. In fact it was in remarkably good condition. 

“No,” Scavelli shook his head. “It was found in a garbage bin near one of the paths. It has a New York driver’s license and a Manhattan address.”

Eve did not answer for a moment as she examined the wallet herself and found that there were no credit cards or money.  The only thing that remained inside it had little monetary value, like the driver’s license in question.  She stared at the face on the plastic and knew that the person in the photo and the one who met such an abrupt demise was one and the same.  The face staring back at her was nothing extraordinary; he could have been anyone she saw down the street, a bystander really.

“His name is Robert Falstead,” Eve noted, “lives at 94th Street, Manhattan.”

“I think that’s off Columbus Avenue,” Scavelli nodded in recognition. “Wonder how he ended up as fish food on the other side of the river?”

“I don’t know,” Eve remarked and fell silent for a moment as she thought deeply.  The few pieces of the puzzle were coming together to form an incomplete picture at this stage but something was clear and she was certain the rest of the investigation would prove it.  “This was not a robbery.”

“No?” Scavelli looked at the homicide detective and knew her track record enough to respect her determinations. 

Most of the officers knew Lieutenant Eve McCaughley. She was one of the youngest women to make detective and she did so because she had an amazing eye for detail and mind that seemed to be gifted with criminal insight. It also helped that she could hold her own against a perp in hand to hand or with a gun and was not one those detectives who sent patrolmen out to do the hard work while she presided over reports at a desk.    Eve liked getting her hands dirty and she was not squeamish. She was from a family of cops, her father had been one and her brother, who had been killed some years ago, had died a patrolman’s death when he intervened at a liquor store robbery.  

It was hard to picture her as a cop sometimes because she a beautiful woman.  She went to considerable lengths to hide it so that she would be taken seriously, wearing little make up and keeping her long mahogany hair in a braid.  Sapphire coloured eyes were hidden behind steel framed glasses, though she only used them when she was typing reports. Most of the time she looked like some kid that just walked off a college campus for she liked dressing casually and on first impressions, she did not inspire the confidence needed in a detective.  However, she had proven herself over time with her expert handling of cases and those who knew her, was aware of her ability.

“No,” she shook her head. “This was made to look like a robbery but it isn’t.  The victim’s jewellery was removed. He’s married incidentally.  I saw the tan lines on the index finger of his left hand.  There are no credit cards or money in this wallet and this guy looks like an accountant, not the kind to put up a fight if a mugger came up to him.  There’s no reason to shoot him at point blank range through the face no less and dump the body in the river.”

“Then why leave the wallet behind?” Scavelli asked, seeing the sense in what she said though this one point left him at a loss to explain. “I mean if the shooter was doing it for an ulterior motive, why remove it from the body?”

“Just in case we did find the body and didn’t look to the obvious,” she pointed. “You see this wallet? It’s genuine calf leather.  Something like this you buy in Manhattan if you can afford it.  Take it to a hockshop anywhere else and you’ll get a hundred bucks for it, easy.  A mugger wouldn’t leave this behind. He’d dump whatever isn’t valuable to him and keep going.”

“Maybe the mugger ain’t that smart,” Scavelli pointed out.

“Maybe,” Eve said with a little smile, “but I doubt it.”

 ************\r\n\r\n 


It was sheer impulse that made Aaron drive to the Malcolm Building on his way home that evening. 

Despite himself, Moses’ case occupied his thoughts for the rest of the day.   For the rest of their session, Aaron had allowed Moses to do the talking and found the man to be surprisingly insightful about his perceptions of the world, what of it he could remember. There were moments when he tried to remember his past that he would become agitated and Aaron was certain that if it was not for the Thorazine, Moses might have become violent.  However, the doctor was starting to wonder if this violence was borne out of a need to hurt or as a result of his own frustrations at not knowing reaching uncontrollable levels.  In any case, Aaron ordered Moses’ transfer to be delayed for a few days.  

Aaron was convinced that some trauma had locked Moses’ memory away from him that he held some terrible knowledge or act in his past that his mind was unable to accept. Unfortunately, there appeared to be no record of the man’s existence anyway thought understandably it was hard to glean information when they did not even have a name to search.   Aaron knew the key to helping Moses was to unlock the reason for this trauma but how he was to discern this was another thing entirely.   Aaron had continued the day following his session with Moses, trying to get his paperwork completed but invariably his mind would return to one point.

Thorongil. 

What did that word mean? 

As the Malcolm Building loomed overhead, he used the speed dial on his cell phone to contact the only person he knew that might have access to the information. For all he knew it could be a gibberish produced by Moses’ damaged psyche but Aaron was working in the dark and he had to use whatever clue he could find, even if it was as slight as this.  It did not take long before the connection was made following the dial tone and Aaron found himself speaking out loud using the hands free function of his cell phone.

“Hey Stuart, its Aaron,” Aaron announced himself to his friend, the college professor who taught at NYU.

“Hi Aaron,” Stuart returned.  Aaron could hear the clicking of a keyboard in the background and surmised that Stuart Farmer was still in his office at the English Lit department.   

“You still working?” Aaron teased aware that Stuart often spent too much time at work that he forgot to have a life.

“Yeah, not all of us like to waste time driving around in our expensive cars harassing friends who do real work,” Stuart returned dryly.

Aaron grinned inside his car and replied, “we still up for the game on Saturday?”

“I’m bringing the beer,” the crackling voice returned. 

“Great,” Aaron nodded looking forward to seeing the game and his old college buddy, “listen, I’ve got a question for you.  You ever heard of a word called Thorongil?”

“Excuse me?” Stuart returned automatically.

“Thorongil,” the doctor repeated rolling his eyes as he turned into the street whose end would see him in front of the Malcolm Building.

“Not off hand,” Stuart confessed, “but I can look it up in my database.  Give me a minute.”

“Thanks,” Aaron replied as he came to a halt at the kerb and put the car into park. 

Beyond the windscreen of his car, he could see the towering glass structure that was known officially as the Malcolm Building. Though not as tall as the Empire State Building, it was certainly more imposing and had earned the nickname of the ‘Monolith’.  This was due to the fact that the façade of the building was covered in black glass and built with equally dark marble.  At night when it stood against the dark sky, it almost appeared as if it was a void where the stars could not exist.  As Aaron stared at it, he could not deny that it looked somewhat ominous to a mind already fragile with psychosis.  If Moses was already plagued by hallucinations of imposing evil then it was understandable why the Malcolm Building might provoke the fiery outburst that saw Moses brought into the psychiatric ward. 
 
“Aaron?” He heard Stuart’s voice a moment later, snapping his out of his ruminations. 

“I’m here,” Aaron replied, still looking at the building.

“There is a record of the word but it’s extremely obscure,” Stuart replied. “Only someone who was an expert at medieval folklore might have knowledge of it and even then I wouldn’t count on it.”

That made Aaron sit up and pay attention, “what do you mean?”

“Well it’s small reference noted in the field of study regarding the theories about the Arthur legend.”

“The Arthur legend?” Aaron exclaimed undeniably astonished, “as in the knights of the round table, that Arthur?”

“Yeah,” Stuart’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “That Arthur.”

“Okay,” Aaron eased back into the car seat looking rather perplexed. “What’s the reference?

“Well according to popular theory, the Arthur legends are meant to be a composite of stories, not about one individual.  Before Mallory made it into what it was, there were these legends floating around the place and one of them apparently had to do with  someone named Thorongil who was a king that started out as something else, hiding his identity until he was needed, that sort of thing.  It’s believed that this element of Thorongil’s story was incorporated into the Arthur legend.”

“So Moses is some kind of medieval history professor…” Aaron mused.

“Who?”

“This patient I have,” Aaron replied deciding that Stuart deserved an explanation though he was not at liberty to discuss too much about Moses’ condition.  “He’s a John Doe with no identification whatsoever. He sounds like he could be English but I can’t be sure of that. I think he’s suffering from severe amnesia brought on by a traumatic event and while we were in session, he called me Thorongil.”

“So you think he might be an expert in medieval folklore?” Stuart surmised.

”That’s the best lead I have,” Aaron shrugged. “So this Thorongil legend is being studied somewhere?”

“No,” Stuart shook his head. “What I told you is all there is to know about it. I’m not kidding Aaron; this is an extremely remote reference. There isn’t even a record of where it might have originated.  Your man would have to be an expert in obscure legends to have even heard of it.  Unless he knew the guy himself,” Stuart chuckled. 

“You’re a real comedian Stuart,” Aaron retorted with a disappointed sigh.  He had hoped there would be more but at least Stuart had given him somewhere to begin in searching for his patient’s identity. 

Without knowing why, Aaron was certain that finding out the truth about Moses was the key to understanding everything.

 ************\r\n\r\n 


The man stood by the glass and watched the world below him with a little smile of satisfaction.

Even though the building was not the tallest in the city, it was sufficient to provide him with a panoramic view of New York. Personally he thought it lost a little without the familiar sight of the two towers but so much in mortal existence was fleeting.  Buildings like humans being had little staying power.   When he had first ordered the construction of his own, he wanted to build something that had presence without needing to be aesthetically pleasing.  The architects seemed to think that buildings should be high but he preferred to remain grounded, as far as he was concerned, the heavens were extremely overrated. 

While the building was tall enough for him to enjoy this view, he had happier at its dark façade then he was at its height. Within the walls of the building he knew was called the ‘Monolith’ after the alien object in the Kubrick film, John Malcolm Iran his corporation like a god ruling his empire. The Monolith was the centre of his kingdom and from here he kept watch over everything.  Leaving behind the view of New York by twilight, Malcolm returned to his desk.  He lived in the penthouse suite attached to this room, below the swimming pool and gardens that took up the space on the roof.

Fortune 500 had called him one of the most powerful men in the world but the appellations did not concern him. Power was subjective and he knew perfectly well how much of it he had, which was to say quite a great deal.  It was not the kind of power possessed by any of the men in Fortune 500 hundred though Malcolm was certain they dreamed of it.  The tendrils of his power reached not merely the boardroom but in realms that most would never even dream.  Man’s potential was limitless and Malcolm spent his entire existence on this earth exploiting that boundless potential.

Most of the time they did not know he was behind the scenes, working things with the expertise of a puppet master. Secrecy was something Malcolm did well and he had prided himself in how far his influence extended.   His agents were far and wide and they were worked for him with unswerving loyalty because they knew the price of failure. However, they were also well rewarded for their efforts and because of this, his reach extended into the highest echelons of power.  There were heads of state that would be grateful for his attentions.

Of course the public knew nothing of this and that was exactly how Malcolm preferred it. 

Malcolm knew who was at his office before the door opened.  He and lowered himself into leather chair before the marble desk.  He liked the cool of the dark stone and endeavoured to furnish his office with as much of it as possible.  The office had a stygian feel about it with smooth dark surfaces and had a Spartan air by the lack of personal items.  Malcolm had as much use for these as he did people, which was to say very little.  They served and then they died. It was all so simple. Why complicate things by developing unnecessary attachments to them?

“Sandra,” John greeted when the woman walked in.   “I don’t remember sending for you.”

“I am sorry Mr Malcolm,” the woman who was his personal aide and confidant apologised in her dark suit with the high collar.  In her youth, she had been a stunning woman with flaxen gold hair, now worn in a bun and the glimmer of emerald fire in her eyes had lost its lustre as the world took its toll upon her.  At the age of fifty, Sandra Collins was still a handsome woman but it was clear that she could no longer trade on her looks to get by as she once had.  “However, I did not think this could wait.”

“I am intrigued,” Malcolm, gestured her forward.  

She had sense enough to pause before coming any closer, aware that permission was required beforehand.  She had to wait for the Emperor granted her an audience. Sandra had been holding a manila folder under her arm when she entered the room.  However, upon being asked to approach, she reached into it to remove the appropriate intelligence it contained.  

“This was caught on security cameras last night,” she replied placing the photographs on the desk before him. 

The pictures were grainy but held enough definition for him to be able to make out what had caused her such concern. 

“He isn’t dead,” she pointed out. “He’s alive and he was outside the building last night.”

“Indeed,” Malcolm nodded, feeling less anxiety than she did. “I did not expect him to be dead Sandra. I knew he was alive somewhere but he’s hardly in any position to be a threat to me.”

“I think we should resolve this matter once and for all,” Sandra stared at him.  “We have people working for us that could make it look like an accident.  He was taken to a psychiatric ward after the NYPD picked him up.  It would be a simple matter to just…”

“I have told you once and I will tell you again,” Malcolm rose to his feet and glared at her. His voice sent icicles of fear through her skin and for an instant, she saw everything that was vile and unholy surface in his eyes  “He is not to be killed under any circumstances.   The minute his blood is spilled will be closely followed by your own. Do you understand?” 

Sandra felt herself shudder at the blackness of his eyes and nodded quickly, “yes sir.”

“Good,” Malcolm lowered himself back into his chair. “What you will do is find out who in that hospital has the power to commit my old friend to a nice little asylum where he can be forgotten for another four hundred years and that will be the extent of action on this matter, is that clear?”

“Yes Sir,” Sandra nodded. “What if they won’t do it?”

Malcolm blinked as if she had asked him something ludicrous, “they’ll do it if they want to live.”


Chapter 3 - Many Meetings

Aaron had not slept well the night before.

When he arrived at the hospital the next morning, he was more than a little irritable and bleary eyed, leading him to question himself on whether or not he was in any fit state to see a patient. If it had been any patient but Moses, Aaron would have been inclined to cancel his appointments for the day. However, it was Moses and for reasons that made utterly no sense, he really did want to speak to the old man again. The conversation with Stuart lingered heavily in his mind and he wondered how an obviously highly educated Medieval professor like Moses could end up in the state he was in when the NYPD picked him up.

What could have happened to a man his age to create such a wall of defence against the truth?

Unfortunately, a good many things could have happened. Amnesia was a symptom of terrible trauma in a person’s past, an incident to morally and physically repulsive that the only way the mind could cope with it was to block it out entirely. It was particularly common in child abuse cases, especially the ones where the victims repressed the memory when they grow into adulthood. The usual recourse in those instances was to use hypnotherapy, to draw the truth their minds in the dream state.

Aaron knew that if Moses’ therapy did not improve he would have to resort to such methods. It would be a still last ditch effort of course since other he had yet to explore other avenues of treatment. For the first time since he had been a psychiatrist at the hospital, Aaron wanted to follow this patient’s progress all the way to its end. Usually the extent of his involvement was to conduct an evaluation where he would diagnose the patient’s problem before recommending transfer to another facility or to another doctor who could provide more in depth treatment for the specific malady.

It was not unusual for Aaron to allow his feelings to cloud his judgement and though it was a practise generally discourages by most of the medical profession, Aaron felt it was necessary to his being a better doctor. How could he help a patient if he could not even empathise with him on some level? Yet it was more than that with Moses. Aaron wanted to help the man, in fact he felt rather compelled to do everything in his power to draw Moses from the mental limbo the old man found himself trapped. The night before had seen him plagued with odd dreams he could not remember but was almost certain Moses was apart.

When he had left the night before he had ordered Moses’ dosage of Thorazine reduced so that he could tell first hand what kind of symptoms the old man was suffering. He had been left in one of the evaluation rooms where his behaviour could be closely monitored during the night. Before his session with Moses began, Aaron watched the tapes and observed that without the medication, Moses began hallucinating, carrying on conversations in a language he could not identify, that could have been Eastern European for all he knew with person or persons only he could see. The words were hard to discern because the language was unknown to her but it was apparent that Moses was suffering a range of emotions from agitation to outright fear.

When he became too violent for his own good, the doctor on duty sensibly prescribed the medication once more since enough had been recorded for Aaron to make his evaluation. Aaron took a copy of the tape in the hopes of determining what language Moses was speaking in, if at all it was a language. Some schizophrenics could develop a language of their own that sounded like gibberish to everyone else. Gibberish or not, the content of the conversation seemed to upset Moses considerably, even if to Aaron’s ears it sounded somewhat one sided.

 “You appear as if you need more sleep than I,” Moses remarked, raising a bushy brow in accusation as they sat across each other once again when the session was finally underway.

Aaron rubbed the grainy feeling out of his eyes and regarded Moses once more, “probably. I had a strange night.”

“Really?” Moses eased back into his seat. “Perhaps we ought to be changing places,” he remarked with a hint of teasing.

“I like the view from here,” Aaron replied. “How are you feeling today?”

“These potions you have been filling my veins allow me little recourse but to feel sluggish and complacent. I do not like how they feel.”

“I am sorry about that,” the doctor retorted automatically, “however, you’re not exactly on your best behaviour without them.”

“Did you ever think that without them I might think more clearly?” Moses pointed out.

“I think we need to know why you can’t remember anything first before I start gambling on what you will and won’t do,” Aaron said pointedly. “I don’t really want to keep you in a straight jacket to keep you from hurting yourself or anyone else.”

Moses frowned, a loud huffing noise that was only common to ornery old people who thought that the price of everything was too high and young people in general should stop playing loud music and get hair cuts. “You do make a convincing argument though I remember little of what happened the night before,” Moses said unhappily.

“What do you remember?” Aaron leaned forward, asking.

“Fear,” Moses replied shortly. “I remember fear, feeling it in my throat and lungs, as if it was something I had fallen into and could not escape. It was very unpleasant.”

”I imagine it would be,” Aaron replied, trying to sound sympathetic. “You seemed to have conversations with people we couldn’t see. Do you remember anything about that?”

Moses fell silent for a moment, gazing at Aaron with a strange sort of look. For a moment, Aaron actually thought that the old man might have remembered something but the blank mask fell over his face again and he shook his head, “nothing. I remember nothing except that I feel these people. There are times when they are close enough to grasp in my mind but it slips away.” He looked up at Aaron and declared, “I am too old to be this forgetful. When one reaches this age, what else is there but the memories? If I do not have those then it is better to be dead.”

His eyes clouded with emotion and Aaron knew Moses was at the limits of his emotional restraint. He was right, a man Moses age should at least be left the memories of a life lived so long. It did not seem fair and Aaron wanted badly to regain that much for him, if nothing else. “We’ll find them Moses, I promise you that. It won’t be easy and it won’t be overnight but we will find out what happened to your life.”

Moses regarded his words and smiled at the sincere honesty in his claim and offered softly, “I am strangely encouraged by that claim.”

“You should be,” Aaron grinned, sitting back in his chair. “I don’t make it often.”

“So now what do we do?” Moses replied, the moment passing to something a little less emotional, which suited both doctor and patient well.

We’ll continue with the therapy,” Aaron replied, “but for the moment, I found out what Thorongil means.”

“Thorongil?” Moses stared at him as if he had forgotten the strange name that he called Aaron during their first session.

“Yes you called me that remember?” Aaron gave him a look before continuing, wondering why Moses suddenly sounded uncomfortable about uttering that word.

“I am not about to argue you with my doctor,” Moses deadpanned with a hint of sarcasm. “Please, I bid you to continue since you are obviously bursting with enthusiasm to tell me what you have learnt.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Aaron answered with similar sentiment. “It appears that Thorongil was the name of a king in some obscure myth connected to the Arthur legends. It’s believed that it was the origin for Arthur’s own history. There’s almost no information available about the character other than this and what has been recorded was handed down from myths that predate the dark ages. It’s not the kind of thing that one would know unless you were into medieval folklore at an academic level. I think you might have been some kind of history expert in this field.”

“Arthur was nothing but a mere warlord,” Moses declared crustily, “one who broke the cardinal rule when possessing a beautiful wife.”

“Like what?” Aaron stared at him.

“Never leave your beautiful wife in the company of an equally beautiful best friend,” Moses said with a smile, “invariably it will always end badly.”

“I won’t argue with you there,” Aaron chuckled, finding Moses’ view of historical figures very amusing if somewhat cynical. “What about you Moses, do you think you have a wife waiting for you somewhere?”

“No,” he replied with surprising firmness.

“You sound pretty certain about that,” the doctor pointed out. “You can’t remember what you did a week ago, you shouldn’t discount the possibility.”

“I do not have a wife,” Moses repeated himself with more than a set to his jaw. “I am sure of this if nothing else.”

Aaron took note of that. Obviously he remembered some things even if he did not wish to speak of them. It could be just an intuition but it gave Aaron hope enough to believe that Moses’ past was not as shut off from the rest of his mind as they had previously believed.

“May I ask you something Doctor Stone?” Moses spoke up suddenly, interrupting Aaron’s note taking.

“Sure, go ahead,” Aaron replied, still fixated on his observations of the session.

“I notice that the other patients who came in at the same time as I have since been transferred elsewhere,” the old man looked at Aaron with deep scrutiny. “I heard one of the nurses talking. Apparently, I should have been moved to another location but I still remain here, undiagnosed. Is that normal?”

Aaron raised his eyes to the patient and lowered his pencil, “no, it isn’t. I suppose I could make a quick evaluation and send you on your way but I’m almost certain that deeming you’re a schizophrenic or someone with bipolar disorder is incorrect. You have suffered some kind of trauma and your symptoms are a direct relation to that event, whatever it is. I believe if I can find out what event it was that forced you to block out those memories, you’ll be on the road to recovery. If I have to, I’ll keep you here as a patient exclusively under my care.”

“Am I to be your pet project then?” Moses asked but there was no trace of hostility in his voice, merely amusement.

”Something like that,” Aaron replied, “its what I get for being a bachelor with no family to take up my time. It just means I get to occupy myself with the really peculiar patients.”

Aaron knew he was becoming too personal with this patient even though he had only seen the man twice. However, something about Moses struck a chord in him, something familiar he could not explain and until he understood why this empathy to a near complete stranger had suddenly developed, he would keep Moses close at hand. An intuition he could not explain any more than the rest of it told him that there was more going on that he could possibly imagine.

Or wanted to imagine.

 ************\r\n\r\n

Eve needed a drink.

She did not indulge often and certainly not whilst on duty but she had just delivered the news to a pregnant wife that her husband was fished out of a river, murdered. Something like was more than enough to penetrate even Eve’s well-maintained mask of professional indifference. Standing at the bar from the corner of the new widow’s home, Eve’s hands were trembling a little as she raised the mug of beer to her lips. The other officers who had accompanied her on this duty had gone on their way after Eve feigned some excuse to get away from them so that she could take a few minutes to compose herself.

As the lead officer in the investigation, it had been her duty to stand before Mrs. Falstaff and explain to the woman that her husband was dead and then have to launch into the unfortunate circumstance of how that end had come to pass. Sometimes Eve hated her ability to notice everything because she surely did not need to notice Mrs. Falstaff face shifting from denial, to horror and finally to grief in a flash of an instant. Eve knew she would be hearing the woman’s tears for quite some time. It was not the first time Eve had been required to perform such a task and it certainly would not be the last but she could not detach herself from their pain when she understood it all to well.

Eve had lost her brother n the line of duty and knew the price that came with the badge. However, that did not prevent her from missing him dearly because the badge did not make the pain any less, just tolerable. She took a few greedy gulps of beer and felt it settle into her stomach, taking the edge of her mental state. She barely drained half the mug before pushing it away. She was still on duty and now that the unpleasant task of informing the wife was over, it was now time to talk to Falstaff’s employer, the famous John Malcolm.

Like every other person in the city, Eve knew who John Malcolm was.

Although reclusive, Malcolm was undoubtedly one of New York’s elite, not simply because he was one of the richest men in the world but also because he was the sole heir of America’s most elusive dynasties. The Malcolms were fiercely private, having learnt from the experiences of the Kennedy’s that being known or treated like royalty was not always such a good thing. Since their arrival in New York from Europe following the Civil War in the 1860’s, the family had built itself an impressive business empire because it seemed to escape the dynastic trait of one generation being lesser than the other. All the Malcolm’s born were strong and capable of taking the family fortune to the next level with their business acumen. The latest Malcolm was no different.

After leaving the bar in a more composed state then when she had entered it, Eve slipped into her car and drove into town. It took her almost an hour to weave through the traffic to find herself at the imposing structure that was the Malcolm building. Although she had seen it in the distance on almost a daily basis, it was the first time she had stepped onto the actual premises itself. Staring at the building for a few minutes she could understand, now more than ever why it was called the Monolith. A cold shudder, she could not explain, suddenly ran through her as she took in the sight of the imposing building. For an absurd moment, Eve found herself thinking it looked almost sinister, if not evil.

It made no sense but as she entered the main entrance of the building and identified herself to the front desk manned by security guards, she could not shake the feeling of uneasiness. As Eve had made her appointment with Malcolm almost as soon as she had learnt that Falstaff was working for him, there was no reason for her to wait and Eve was promptly allowed to go on her way. Upon stepping into the lift that would take her to penultimate floor where Malcolm’s office was known to be, Eve felt her inside hollowing with dread.

What was happening to her? Suddenly it felt as if there was not enough space around her and the need to start pounding at the doors to get out became damn near overwhelming. Something was wrong. She could feel it in every fibre of her being but it made no sense. The sensation was so unpleasant that Eve was almost on the urge of being physically ill. She could feel its cold tendrils wrapping itself around her spine when the doors slide open after a gradual slowing. Eve almost bolted past the doors to get out and for a few seconds after the lift had closed and went on its way, she stood in the narrow corridor leading to Malcolm’s office and composed her.

Her hands were shaking and this time it was not from delivering some unpleasant news to a widow, it was because for that brief time inside that lift car, she had felt genuine terror. She could not understand why she would feel that way. She was a cop for God’s sake! She had been in life threatening situations before and none of it had caused the level of anxiety she felt during those few minutes she spent inside that lift. Eve steadied her racing pulse, trying to crush the unsteadiness she felt because now was not the time for such weaknesses. John Malcolm was waiting and Eve was determined to get her answers.

Entering the small door at the end of the corridor, she found herself in what appeared to the workspace of John Malcolm’s secretary. The décor of the room was in vibrant reds and the colour seemed to be tasteful thought it could have been easily garish. There was a huge set of doors behind the woman’s desk and Eve assumed that led to John Malcolm’s office. The rest of the walls were coloured in shades of red earth surrounded the black marble floor and with the cherry wood furniture, the woman seated behind the desk seemed almost as vibrant as the room. She was a stunning red headed beauty, impeccably dressed in a suit and Eve wondered rather snidely, whether she was an actual secretary or a playmate. Her image certainly did not promote the belief that her best talents were typing.

“Can I help you?” The woman said smoothly with a clearly Bostonian accent.

“I’m Detective Eve McCaughley,” Eve produced her badge. “I believe Mr. Malcolm is expecting me?”

The woman’s gaze swept over her and Eve had the distinct impression that she was being scrutinized deeply. “This way please,” the secretary remarked as she led Eve to the doors.

Eve followed her closely, taking time to observe her surroundings and could not help feeling that there was something very wrong with this place. Still she was grateful that the sensation assailing her in the lift was gone for the moment. She wanted to be in full control of her faculties when she finally met Mr. Malcolm.

He was waiting for her on the sofa suite he had in his office, having ready himself for the meeting the instant it had been announced that she would be coming. Eve thought as she was introduced to the man. Her first impressions were that the magazine pictures did not do John Malcolm justice. He looked spectacularly good for a man in his late forties and Eve could just imagine society debutante’s jockeying for position to claim this most eligible bachelor. Physical appearances aside, Eve could feel the man’s presence even in something as innocents as an introduction but once again her instincts told her almost immediately that she could not trust him.

“I checked up on you, you know Detective McCaughley,” Malcolm said with a smile after they were settled and Eve was furnished with a glass of water provided by the departed Ms. Carmichael, Malcolm’s secretary.

“Understandable,” Eve replied. “I would be surprised if a man in your position, didn’t.”

He raised a brow, seeming very impressed by that statement, “I am glad that we understand each other on this level.”

“I understand that it is necessary for a man in your position to check my credentials and the validity of intention to see you. However, I hope you understand that I have questions for you that are not meant to be invasive, just necessary for the investigation,” Eve replied just as politely before she turned on a tape recorder.

“I appreciate your candour detective,” Malcolm answered unperturbed by the recording device. “Naturally I am very sorry to hear what happened to Richard. He was my senior accountant for over three years, and was very reliable and ordered. Just the kind of person you would depend on to manage your finances.”

Eve absorbed his words for a moment before asking again, “when was the last time you saw Mr. Falstaff?”

“I think it was five days ago,” Malcolm responded. “You must understand that Richard worked downstairs and unless he had a problem with our finances or some matter that needed to be discussed with me, I would not have seen him.”

“Fair enough,” Eve nodded in understanding. Malcolm was the CEO of a conglomerate and it was perfectly reasonable that he would not have frequent contact with his employees, especially since he ruled his kingdom from these lofty heights. “Is there someone I can talk to about finding out when was the last time he was seen at work?”

“As a matter of fact, I took the liberty of gathering that information for you,” Malcolm replied, handing her a folder that had been splayed before them on the coffee table. “You will have all the details of who was the last to see Richard, what time he was seen departing the office, even access with the building’s security tapes if you like.”

“Thank you very much,” Eve said graciously but she did not like the fact that he was feeding her all this information. She would have preferred to interview these people before someone else had reached them and quite possibly coached them into conforming their statements to what was in these nicely typed pages.

“You are of course free to talk to anyone of them,” Malcolm continued speaking. “Trust me Detective, I want to find Richard’s killer.”

I’m sure you do,  Eve thought sceptically. She knew she was being cynical, that it was entirely possible that Malcolm was just trying to be helpful but instinct told her that he was hiding something. Unfortunately, she had no way of proving it without further investigation and Eve had a feeling that Malcolm was a man who knew how to keep secrets.

“I would like to see Mr. Falstaff’s office?” Eve asked instead.

“Certainly,” he replied just as amicably, “however, I thought that this was just a mugging.”

Eve’s mask of calm held as she answered, “it was made to look like a mugging but it’s clearly an execution style murder. He was shot in the face at point blank rage. His jewellery was taken and his wallet stolen to ensure that we’d think it was a robbery. Mr. Falstaff did not appear to be the kind of man who would give a mugger much difficulty and a mugger would not have taken the time to drag the body to the river. His first instinct would have been to run. Mr. Falstaff was dumped in the river to destroy any physical evidence we may find. It was premeditated and according to someone’s agenda so if you please, I’d like to see his office. It may have a clue as to a motive.”

She had hoped her words would have rattled him a little but Malcolm seemed to take what she said with understanding, “I must say Detective McCaughley, I am impressed. No doubt with you on the case, it will be only a matter of time before Richard’s murderer will be found.”

”It is my job to notice the details,” Eve replied, not at all swayed by his compliments because there were criminals who thought stroking a cop’s ego could deflect suspicion from himself or herself and Eve was used to those too.

Eve gave Malcolm a polite show of thanks before Ms Carmichael showed her out of the office and pointed her in the direction of the names on the list Malcolm had given them. Although it as more or less a foregone conclusion that she would find nothing more than what was in their typed statements, Eve felt compelled to try nonetheless. She even braved using the lift again and while the sensation was not so thick this time, she could not help experiencing the same feelings of dread once again. Eve did not know what was wrong with her and was starting to think she might be developing latent symptoms of claustrophobia when she realised that the feeling had only climaxed inside the lift.

It had started when she was staring at the building from the outside. 

 ************\r\n\r\n

This journey was becoming more than anything they had imagined.

Whilst they remained on the familiar territory of the western sea, they had felt relatively in control of their circumstances, However, they began to see more and more things that were beyond their comprehension as they slipped further from the reach of Valinor and the familiar mists they had crossed to emerge into the world. As they sailed further and further from the cold seas where the water was warmer and the waves less turbulent, they began to see other sailing vessels. Caution forced them to keep their distance but the encounters indicated that the race of men had clearly evolved from the time of the elves departure from Middle earth. Whether or not this evolution was good or bad, was still a matter of debate.

At first they could not conceive of the thing being a sailing vessel for it had no mast to speak of and it was made of iron. The size of it was enormous beyond belief. Legolas did not think that they were cities as large as the craft that lumbered through waves, somehow managing to remain above the water instead of sinking as something that size should. It moved by means a mechanical keel at the rear, thrashing rapids of foam behind it as it journeyed westward. In comparison, the craft they occupied was practically dwarfish and it was wise to keep a distance from it because it could easily crush them without being aware of it. There was something about its construction, all that dark iron that inspired in the elves the dark memories of Angband and Melkor’s Iron fortress.

However, the steel beast made no effort to accost them, merely continuing through the ocean, oblivious to the vessel whose awe it had captured for a time. It was certainly not the first of these vessels that the elves would see as they continued their journey and as they came closer to their destination, they saw the frequency of such crafts increasing in number. Not all of them were like the steel behemoth they had seen but their construction was mostly steel which confused the elves. It seemed like such a heavy material to construct a sea going vessel with. Wood was so much lighter and simpler for that matter. However, very little about the race of men was simple, even in the days of Middle earth.

Sometimes, they heard noises in the sky and they would see what appeared to be a mighty winged bird soaring through the clouds, though its construct was once again of steel. The elves began to wonder what was this worship of iron that inspired men to create everything from it. The sound of it moving through the air was like a low rumble of thunder and the speed in which it crossed the sky would have put even the great eagles to shame. Legolas doubted that even Thorondor could match the swiftness of the iron denizen moving above them. While some of these things were to be marvelled at, others concerned Legolas greatly. It was clear the world of men had changed far beyond anything they had ever conceivably dreamed.

His suspicion was well founded it seemed because no sooner than they caught sight of land in the far distance, they were approached by a vessel of similar size on a bearing of intercept. Legolas would have preferred not to engage anyone until they had found Mithrandir but the vessel gave them no choice. It too was crafted of iron and it was capable of sinking them with ease it chose to ram them. As it approached, a voice materialized out of thin air, speaking a language that none of them could understand. Legolas had believed that they would be able to converse with the race of men in Westernese at least but the language spoken had none of the finesse of Gondor or any of the kingdoms Legolas had known of Middle earth.

“They mean to board us,” Elladan had declared as the craft closed the distance between us.

“I do not wish to place my fate in the hands of men at this time,” Elrohir declared hotly. “We have no idea what has happened to them since our departure.”

“I do not think we have a choice in this matter. They appear to be coming aboard, whether or not we give them our consent. Quickly, cover your ears, they do not need know that we are not one of them,” Legolas declared grimly as he stared across the bow at the fast approaching vessel. Adjusting their hair somewhat, they effectively disguised their ears before they were boarded.

“You do not mean for us to go with them, surely?” Elrohir stared at him once they were ready.

“I think perhaps we should see what their intentions are before we assume the worst. A great deal has changed since our departure. We know nothing of men or their ways. Perhaps it is best that we adhere to their ministrations for the time being.”

“They are using sorcery,” Elrohir reminded them. “A voice spoke to us out of nothingness!”

“I have seen steel birds that fly, ships as large as cities that could not possibly float in the past few days. I do not know how much of it is science and how much of it is invention. From my association with Gimli, I can tell you that dwarfs could build devices that were truly amazing. We have been away for almost a hundred millennia, what we perceive as sorcery could simply be their more elaborate creations,” Legolas offered. His reasoning was based on the lack of danger he sensed from the approaching craft. If they were creatures of darkness meaning to harm Legolas and his companions, the elves would have surely felt it by now. As it stood, they did not feel anything sinister from the approaching humans, just a need to be cautious.

“I must agree with Legolas brother,” Elladan weighed in. “We should see what they wish of us before we act. For all we know, we may have simply wandered into their territory without permission.”

“True,” Legolas had not thought of that.

Thranduil had almost been fanatical about ensuring that Eryn Lasgalen was free of trespassers before the days of Sauron’s destruction. With Dol Guldur sitting at the edge of Mirkwood, such measures had been necessary to protect his people. Legolas did not know any kingdom that did not protect its borders in some way. Perhaps that was what was transpiring here. If so, then Legolas hoped a simple request to travel the Sunlands was all that was necessary because despite his efforts to be reasonable, the Prince of Mirkwood was allowing nothing to stop him from finding Mithrandir.

The vessel eventually came to a halt of their bow and Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir had a closer view of the vessel. Though it was fast descending into evening, the ship was adorned with a myriad of lights of that did not appear to be generated by flame. It reminded of the light that Mithrandir was able to cast from his staff during their travels in Moria. Once again, that strange voice spoke to them and its intensity indicated to Legolas that it was a warning. The elves were unable to answer and decided that the best course of action was to try and respond, hoping that perhaps (though highly unlikely) that someone on board may be able to understand elvish.

While it did not appear that the new arrivals understood a word they said, the fact that Legolas had spoken in a language they did not understand seemed to diffuse the situation slightly. The humans boarded wearing their strange clothes and carrying oddly shaped pieces of metal at their hip, where swords should have been worn. They overtook the elven ship like a swarm of locust, examining every corner of the craft and grew more confused at every discovery made.

“I do not like those things they are pointing at us,” Elrohir replied as a number of the humans surrounded them, pointing the strange metal objects in their direction.

“Is that a weapon?” Elladan asked, noticing their speech was raising more brows from their captors.

“I would say that it is,” Legolas remarked, more curious by them then he was actually afraid. “Notice they are all from different races of men?”

“Yes,” Elrohir nodded. “These are of Westernese, Haradirim and Sunlands. Perhaps they have finally matured enough to unite into one people.”

“Or one has conquered the others,” Elladan pointed out.

“They have women among them,” Legolas pointed out, noticing that one of the searchers ransacking their ship was female. “If this is a combat vessel, why do they have women on board?”

It was a question no one could answer through lack of knowledge or of language. The searchers continued working for another hour or so before the leader among attempted to communicate. The man was tall and reminded Legolas a little of Boromir. Certainly, he had the man of Gondor’s gruff manner. He was by the look of him an experienced man of the sea for his hands and his sun-dried skin bore the marks of an experienced mariner.

He tried speaking to them for a few minutes but the language was so foreign to anything that Legolas knew, that his words sounded like gibberish. Legolas who was one of the last to leave Middle earth felt somewhat ludicrous because he should have been able to understand the man on some level. However, a hundred thousand years had ensured that any means of communication between the elves and their human captors was impossible. When it was clear that no headway was going to be made in understanding each other, the leader ordered them off their craft into the his own.

 They went without incident, taking note that their ship was being towed instead of being destroyed, as they had feared. The inside of the human craft was an odd construct of steel, wood and other materials that Legolas could not identify. They were locked in a room shortly after boarding and if it were a dungeon then it was the cleanest one they had ever seen. While they were concerned at their situation, they were still fascinated by the strange objects that filled their prison. In particular a receptacle whose only purpose could have been sanitary and how efficiently the device worked, not to mention a twist of the handle could produce fresh, clean water into a ceramic basin. The water was unlike that drawn from rivers without silt, sediment and clear as if drawn from the cleanest pool in Valinor. As Legolas tried some of it, he could tell immediately that it was treated with something but not poisonous.

“What is that?” Legolas asked when he emerged from the cubicle and saw Elladan staring at a strange box with a glass face.

“I do not know,” Elladan replied, running his hands over the dark finish. “I can see no purpose for it.”

“What are those things on the front?” Elrohir asked as he sat on the bed, wanting to be anywhere but indoors. The elf had taken to staring longingly at the sea and sky beyond it.

Elladan ran his fingers experimentally over the largest one and pushed. The sudden sound it made, not to mention the image that suddenly appeared on the glass sent all three elves retreating backward, startled.

“Palantir!” Elrohir declared as the three elves stared mesmerized at the image appearing before them.

“That is not a seeing stone,” Legolas replied. “I have seen them and I know they do not look like that.”

“Whare are we seeing?” Elladan asked as they watched the moving pictures before them. A shapely young woman was running across a shore, wearing almost nothing. The image of her seemed to be moving slowly, allowing them to be afforded a very aspect of her body’s movement as she leapt into the ocean.

“That is not decent,” Elrohir declared. “She was almost naked!”

“I knew men had a capacity for decadence but this is debauched,” Elladan remarked as the woman swam through the water, the pictures showing her progress from beneath the waves.

”And yet you two have not moved your eyes away from her,” Legolas offered with a smug smile.

“Is this sorcery Legolas?” Elladan asked after a moment. “I know of only seeing stones that can produce visions like this.”

“It could be,” Legolas hesitated to respond. “Yet they have treated us with surprising courtesy even if they have taken our ship. I do not know what to make of them or their intentions.”

“Legolas we cannot remain in their custody,” Elrohir said seriously. “As well as they have treated us so far, we do not know their intentions.”

“I agree,” Legolas nodded after a moment. “I think we should wait until darkness before we make our bid to escape. I would prefer to do it when we are close enough to port so they cannot pursue us into shallow water. We will need to go to our own vessel to retrieve our weapons and the gold we need to trade.”

“Are we even certain that they still use gold?” Elladan said dubiously as he cast his gaze over the room. “They seemed to have a preference for iron.”

“We have to take the chance that gold is not out of fashion. In any case, we do not have a choice, its all we have,” Legolas sighed.

Their escape was relatively simple because their captors had no idea what they were about and were unable to ascertain the level of danger they posed. When the craft neared the shoreline in the dead of night, a ruse of shouts had brought one of their guards into their makeshift prison to investigate. After that it was a simple matter of elven skill and agility to overpower him and make their way to their own vessel. It would not take long for the humans to discover their departure for their escape plan was not elaborate enough to prevent that. Stealing onto the grey ship following their escape, the elves retrieved what they needed and then paddled to the shore with a canoe.

They were almost to the shore when their escape was discovered and by the time the humans had mobilised enough to follow them in pursuit, they were able to lose themselves in darkness and the trees that waited them beyond the shore. Even in this strange world, the forest were the same and they were each experienced woodsmen who knew how to lose conceal themselves when the need took them. In the dead of night, they were able to cover much ground, following the stars that they had been instructed to lead them to Mithrandir.

“The air smells foul,” Elladan remarked as they made their way through the dark woods.

“It reminds me of the scent of Mordor,” Legolas remembered how the air had smelled when they had stood at the Black Gates during the last days in the War of the Ring. It was heavy with ash and other things that he could not identify. While this was nowhere as bad, it did not smell like fresh air and deepened Legolas’ concern at what other changes had taken place in the world of men since their departure. 

“Those who visited these lands after the last of us had left Middle earth said that there was some sort of dark age,” Elladan replied, “perhaps the loss of Westernese is because of that.”

“It is possible,” Legolas could not deny the Prince of Imladris’ claim.

After many centuries remaining in Valinor after his own arrival, some of the elves had decided to explore the world beyond, to see what had become of the Middle earth in the wake of their departure. They brought back stories of Gondor’s demise that many of the kingdoms of men had fallen into ruin and that humans were scrambling to survive with stone tools and none of the craft the elves had taught them since their emergence at Hildorien. It was like listening to the news that a beloved child had died. It had not only broken his heart but those who had counted men as trusted friends and allies.

Legolas remembered his own anguish thinking of how hard Aragorn had fought to build something great, to reunify Middle earth so that all would prosper. To know that all of it would crumble into darkness the way Beleriand had sunk into sea would have broken the proud spirit of his noble friend. Legolas was rather grateful that Aragorn was not alive to see it.

“They will be searching for us,” Elrohir commented over his shoulder at the path they had taken through the woods.

“I do not doubt that,” Legolas said shortly, determined to go on despite the risks.

“Legolas, this quest of ours may not be possible,” Elladan declared. “We thought the terrain would be unfamiliar but this is beyond us. We cannot make our way in this world without being noticed. You saw how they looked at us. If we did not conceal our ears when they found us, I doubt our escape would have been as easy as it was.”

“Do you think I do not know that?” Legolas stared at him. “However, we cannot stop until we find Mithrandir, not merely for his sake but ours. Do you think they will simply let us go if we chose to turn back? If there is one thing that remains constant in the race of man it is their propensity to fear what they do not understand. There has been nothing like us in their presence for centuries, if we were to reveal ourselves and what we are, none of us will leave this place. If Mithrandir is still alive, then he will be able to help us leave.”

Elladan or Elrohir did not speak because for the first time ever, Legolas had said if Mithrandir was alive.

 ************\r\n\r\n

Aaron had seen his last patient for the day and was looking forward to having a quiet night at home when he heard a knock on his office door. Glancing at the clock and taking note of the time, the healer wondered who would be calling on him in the evening. The lack of sleep the night before was catching up on him and Aaron was looking forward to getting a good night’s sleep. He hoped whatever business his late caller had would not take too long and called out for them to enter the office. He had expected to see a colleague or a nurse coming through the door with some new problem that could not wait, however, instead of either, a woman in a smart business suit and brief case stood before him.

The tall blond woman was of an older vintage but that did not change the fact that she was still a spectacular beauty that was had the look of a lawyer or someone affiliated with the corporate world. She offered him a smile as she entered the room, her hand extended in a gesture of greeting and yet Aaron could tell that like the rest of her persona, was an image manufactured for the purpose.

“Doctor Stone, I’m pleased to meet you,” she replied as they exchanged handshakes. “My name is name is Sandra Collins, I am an associate of Mr. John Malcolm of Malcolm Industries.”

“I know who he is,” Aaron returned, somewhat confused at why the woman was here. “What can I do for you?”

“May we sit down?” She asked politely.

Aaron saw no reason to deny the request. He was still rather puzzled at why someone from Malcolm Industries would wish to see him but supposed that she would state her business eventually.

“So what is this about Ms Collins?” Aaron asked once they were settled in.

“I understand you are treating the man who caused a disruption at our premises two nights ago?” She asked gingerly.

“Yes I am,” Aaron nodded and wondered what her interest in Moses was and also noted that she knew perfectly well that he was treating the old man since she had come all the way from Monolith to talk to him. “He is still undergoing evaluation,” he answered.

“I have been instructed by Mr. Malcolm to provide the best care possible for Mr..?” She gazed at Aaron for a name.

“We don’t know who he is yet,” Aaron explained somewhat surprised by the interest a corporate giant like John Malcolm was showing Moses especially when Moses considered the Monolith something of an ominous presence, “I am calling him Moses for the moment.”

“How sweet of you,” she smiled and once again Aaron was struck by how devoid it was of any real warmth or emotion for that matter. “I see he is in the best hands possible. Mr Malcolm however, would like to offer financial assistance for any medical expenses ‘Moses’ may incur and perhaps facilitate his transfer to a private sanatorium where he can be afforded proper treatment.”

“He is being afforded proper treatment here,” Aaron declared somewhat annoyed by the insinuation that Moses was languishing under his care with treatment akin to leeches and shock therapy, “I am treating him.”

“I meant no offence of course,” she apologised quickly, trying to compensate for the slight. “However, your role here if I understand it is to simply evaluate the patients for transfer to other facilities for specific care. You are not meant to have patients of your own as such”

“You understand it correctly,” Aaron answered, becoming more annoyed by the minute at this woman’s presumptions. It was irregular for him to keep patients here to treat himself, irregular but not impossible. To keep him on staff, the hospital administrator was more than willing to extend him some liberties, especially since he was willing to practise his craft in a hospital and not some expensive practice somewhere. “However, I do from time to time, take on patients as I have done in the case of Moses. Now might I ask why John Malcolm is so interest in a transient? Do you know who he is? Is he a friend of Mr. Malcolm?”

“Not at all,” Sandra returned automatically but Aaron was practised enough in reading human behaviour to know that she was lying through her teeth. “My employer simply feels sorry for this old gentlemen and wishes to help him anyway he can.”

“Well the best thing for him right now is to remain here where I can continue treating him,” Aaron declared firmly while trying to remain polite at the same time. “Something terrible has happened to Moses, Ms Collins, something he needs to remember in order to regain his identity. Switching doctors on him is not going to help, he needs a face that he can identify with and confide in. I believe I have attained that level of trust in him and I am not going to betray it by transferring him to another doctor. Now, if you wish to fund his transfer to a sanatorium, by all means do so but I will still continue to regard him as my patient.”

”I see,” her lips thinned and she gave him a deep meaningful look. “I do not suppose I can convince you to relinquish your claim on the patient?”

“Relinquish my claim?” Aaron stared at her in astonishment. “He is not a piece of property. He is an old man with severe memory problems and the patient’s name is Moses.”

“He is not your responsibility,” Sandra shot him a look that convinced Aaron that she ran on pure ice water, not blood. “He is nothing, a human tragedy walking the streets, like so many others. You waste your time and effort in attempting to salvage something from the wreckage of him.”

Aaron could not believe he was having this conversation with this woman. “He is a patient and he needs help, I am a doctor and I treat people like him. I don’t consider him wreckage and if he was such a nonentity, then why has Malcolm sent you here?”

She did not answer but reached instead into her briefcase. Aaron wondered what she was up to now and hoped she did not plan to cite some jurisdictional nonsense as all this corporate types tended to do when their back were against the wall. She produced a heavy brown envelope and handed it to him.

”If you cooperate, what is in that envelope is yours,” she said coolly, still wearing that expression of smug triumph on her face. “All you have to do is sign Moses over to us and you never have to be troubled by him or me again and Mr Malcolm would consider this a close personal favour. Its always advantageous to have friends in high places.”

Aaron glanced into the envelope and felt his breath catch. Inside its confines was more money than he could possibly imagine. It stared at him in thick piles of green, all in thousand dollar notes. He could not even count how many there was in there but it was a great deal. He raised his eyes at her in question, astonished by what he was seeing.

“What is this?” He managed to ask.

“Your fee for cooperating,” she answered, certain that the money would be the deciding factor in his choice.

“This is a bribe?” Aaron exclaimed.

“I would not put it quite that way,” Sandra laughed softly, “consider it a bonus.”

“Who is he?” Aaron surprised her by asking instead. “Who is he that you’re doing all this?”

“That is none of your concern,” she replied coldly, all trace of humour draining from her face. The beauty he had admired was gone and in its place was a mask of cruelty. Aaron had a feeling that he was seeing the real Sandra Collins now. “The time for games is over Doctor Stone. Understand that if you turn me down, the next request will not be made so cordially. We want custody of your patient and if you will not help us, then we will acquire him ourselves.”

“The hell you will,” Aaron snapped, thrusting the envelope back into her hand. “I won’t be bribed and you want to strongarm me, fine. You do that and I’ll have to start making inquiries into why you’re so interested in him and maybe the police might be just as curious.”

”That would be a mistake,” she warned. “I don’t think you appreciate your situation. Perhaps I should leave you with a day or two to consider your options.”

“Is that a threat?” He demanded.

“We do not threaten Doctor,” she replied turning to leave. “We never threaten.”

 ************\r\n\r\n

Aaron was more than a little shaken by his meeting with Sandra Collins and was glad to get out of the hospital so that he could think more deeply about what had happened. Aaron never thought a woman could ever unnerve him but Sandra words had been disconcerting. The old story about the corporation with dirty dealings was a cliché that Aaron did not want to believe but Sandra did not sound like she was making empty threats. All in all, his encounter with the woman had proven conclusively that there was more to Moses than meets this eye.

When he arrived at his apartment, Aaron entered to find a note had been slipped beneath the door. He unfolded the plain, crisp white paper and stared at is contents.

Call Stuart.

S.C  \r\n\r\n

 Aaron went to the phone immediately and dialled his best friend’s number. For some reason his heart was pounding with anxiety and would not be satisfied until he heard Stuart’s voice. He was greeted with a ringing tone for a few seconds before it was finally answered. However it was not Stuart who answered but rather a woman whose voice Aaron recognised to be that of Maggie Brent’s, Stuart’s secretary.

“Maggie,” Aaron said quickly, “is Stuart there?” 

For some reason his heart was pounding.

“Oh Doctor Stone,” she broke down tearfully. “I’m here with the police right now, Doctor Farmer was just involved in a hit and run accident. He’s dead.”


Chapter 4 - Untimely Rescues

All the way back to the hospital, Aaron was numb.

His mind was filled with images of Stuart Farmer, his best friend since college. He remembered the all night keggers and the girls they had dated together. Stuart had been so tense during his first year at college, Aaron had made it a point to loosen up the English lit major or else be driven to commit murder.  Stuart was one of those people who left notes on the fridge door reminding you to buy milk or take out the trash.  Aaron could not even remember how many arguments they had during their four-years at college about the edibility of day old pizza stored under beds. Stuart’s arguing position was usually against it.

Aaron drove back to the hospital, trying to see through the windshield as silent tears filled his eyes.  He best friend was dead and the chances were very good that he was responsible for it.  Sandra Collins said she did not threaten and unfortunately, Aaron had learnt the hard way that she was right, she did not threaten. Stuart’s death was not a threat. It was a statement of what would happen to him if he did not cooperate with Malcolm Industries’ desire to take charge of Moses.  

Aaron wanted to go to the police but he could not.  There was not an ounce of proof that Sandra Collins was responsible for Stuart’s death.  A hit and run accident did not prove Malcolm Industries was guilty in the eyes of the law and there were a million people in New York who had the initials of S.C.  Through the deluge of tears from Maggie, he had manage to learn that Stuart had been walking to his beat up Chevy when a dark sedan came out of nowhere and ended his life with a loud thud.  Stuart died instantly, Maggie had said, as if that made it all better.  Stuart’s life ended abruptly without his even knowing why.  At least he and Aaron had that much in common.  

All Aaron knew for certain was that they wanted Moses and if he let them have the old man, he would never know why.

In a space of a few hours, Aaron had been torn out of his safe and comfortable existence and thrust head long into a shadow realm where corporations could make people disappear and have others killed.  It would have been easy for Aaron to cooperate with Sandra Collins and let Malcolm Industries take charge of Moses.  After all, Moses had been his patient for only two days; no one could blame him if he surrendered the old man to the ministrations of the corporate giant.  Sandra had promised that Moses would be taken care of at a proper facility. He would be made comfortable.  All Aaron had to do was sign the release and Moses would no longer be his problem. 

It would definitely be the smart thing to do.  There was a part of Aaron that actually considered it for a brief moment.  However, Aaron thought of the promise he had made to his patient, to help Moses regain his memories and the connection Aaron had spoken of so eloquently to the menacing Ms Collins, he knew he could not do it.  He could not betray Moses by letting him fall into the hands of Malcolm Industries and he could not betray Stuart by allowing his murderers to go unpunished.  It may have been the safer solution to let them have what they wanted but Aaron knew that he would never be able to look himself in the mirror again if he did.

All these things ran through his mind as he drove back into the city, determined to deny Sandra Collins and Malcolm Industries their prize.   The tears had given away to anger and though he had no idea how he was going to exact justice, he knew he was not going to let them have what they wanted. They probably thought killing Stuart would be enough to scare him into obeying unfortunately; all it had succeeded in doing was made him mad.  He was just a psychiatrist, a nonentity to them and because of that perception; they believed they could do anything to him. Even taking away his best friend.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Aaron strode down the quiet halls of the psychiatric ward.  The duty nurse, Brenda Watts, was at her station and greeted him warmly. Unfortunately, Aaron was not in the mood for pleasantries. 

“Brenda, I want you to get an orderly to have Moses ready to live immediately,” Aaron ordered.

“Leave?” She stared at him blankly.  “You’re discharging him?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’m discharging him right this minute. By the time you get him ready I’ll have the discharge papers signed and ready for processing.”

Brenda was an experienced nurse and she knew that such discharges were irregular but Aaron was the head of the psychiatric ward so she nodded mutely and returned to her station to see his orders carried out.  With that task accomplished despite Brenda’s obvious concern, Aaron retreated to his office to fill out the papers that would release Moses into his custody.  He knew that the discharge orders would come under the scrutiny of the higher administration and that there would likely be consequences of his actions but at this time, Aaron was far from caring.  John Malcolm was a powerful man and he wielded sufficient influence in town to convince Aaron that if he wanted to get his hands on Moses through the hospital system, he could.

When he emerged from his office, Moses was already waiting in the lobby.  Aaron had stopped at the pharmacy on the way into the psychiatric ward to purchase a few supplies, which Moses would need to help him with his condition. While Moses remained medicated with Thorazine, the old man was manageable. Without it, he would be more than Aaron could cope with and at this time, neither of them had the luxury of that complication.

“He’s ready Doctor Stone,” Brenda said reluctantly.  Carl, the orderly who had helped Moses get ready for his departure, showed similar hesitation.

“Thank you Brenda,” Aaron said gratefully, ignoring the confusion in Moses’ expression for now. “I know this is all very irregular but there is good reason for me. I’d appreciate it if you left it for an hour or two before you queried this Brenda.”

She opened her mouth to say something but fell silent when she noted the serious expression in his face. “Are you in trouble Doctor Stone?” She asked a brief pause later.

“We both are,” he regarded Moses.  “I have to get Moses away from here, while I still can. I know I’m asking a lot but I need you two to trust me.”

Carl, who often sat with him at the cafeteria while they talked about fishing and sports, was the first to answer, “you do what you have to Doc, I won’t say nothing.”

“I won’t either Doctor Stone,” Brenda replied with a smile. “We know you wouldn’t do something like this unless it was really important.”

“Thank you,” Aaron answered and then turned to the patient, “come on Moses, we’re going.”

Moses was undoubtedly surprised by Aaron’s actions but the old man said nothing until they had left the corridor and well on their way to the elevators.  Moses were clad in tattered old clothes that appeared to have come from a disposal store of some descriptions and passed respectability only because they had been laundered during his stay at the hospital.  Aaron wondered fleetingly just how long Moses had been suffering this condition.  Could be it possibly be years? He shuddered at the thought that this man might have been wandering around the streets for years with this hole in his memory with no idea that there might be a life somewhere out there awaiting his return.

Only when they had cleared the main doors of the hospital with the night sky above their heads, did Moses deign to speak.

“Is this an aggressive form of therapy?” He asked as they crossed the parking lot to Aaron’s car.

“No,” Aaron replied shortly. “I just needed to get you out of there.”

“Not that I am not grateful to escape that place, may I ask why the sudden urgency?” Moses inquired as they came to a stop where his BMW was parked.

Aaron did not answer until they were both inside the car and driving out of the hospital.  He had no idea where they would go.  He thought of taking Moses back to his home but then abandoned the idea because it was the first place they would look for the old man once they discovered what the doctor had done.  For the moment, he just wanted to put some distance between them and the hospital. He would figure the rest out later.

“Someone from Malcolm Industries came to see me today,” Aaron finally answered, his voice calmer than it should be considering what had happened since he and Moses last saw each other. 

“Indeed,” Moses eyed him suspiciously, his demeanour altering from a frail old man to something stronger and more in control of his situation.  “Please continue,” he urged. 

Once again, Aaron was filled with the same sense of foreboding that Moses felt whenever Malcolm Industries was mentioned. Aaron started to wonder if perhaps John Malcolm was somehow responsible for the state Moses was presently in.  Their determination to retrieve the old man was proof enough that he was in possession of something they were willing to kill to acquire.  More than ever, Aaron realised that the key to extracting himself from the situation he now found himself embroiled and to gain justice for Stuart’s death was to unlock the secret of his mysterious patient.

“It was a woman called Sandra Collins, she called herself an associate of John Malcolm,” Aaron spoke the words bitterly, somewhat surprised at the hatred bubbling inside of him when he thought of the ruthlessly mercurial female who had most likely ordered Stuart killed on behalf of her employer.  “She wanted me to release you into their custody. Gave me some bullshit story about paying all your medical expenses and sending you to a private sanatorium where you’d get the care you supposedly needed.”

“I take it you refused,” Moses remarked automatically.

“Of course I did,” Aaron replied, “you’re my patient and I promised to help you.  I take that responsibility pretty seriously.”

“It could cost you,” Moses pointed out.

Aaron stared straight ahead and answered quietly, his voice wavering a little as he spoke,  “it already has.  I got a note from this Sandra Collins when I walked into the front door of my apartment.  She told me to call a friend of mine named Stuart. Stuart and I have been friends since college, we’re pretty close.  When I rang, I found out from his secretary that he was killed in a hit and run accident.  It happened not long before I called.”

“Oh Aaron,” Moses let out a heavy sigh of sympathy, “I am sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Aaron declared, sucking in his breath because saying it out loud made him feel the anguish of Stuart’s demise even more acutely.  He was restraining his emotions because the situation at present required him to maintain control of himself but the grief still felt like a knife in his heart.  “You didn’t kill him,” Aaron said glancing at Moses to make certain the old man knew he meant it.

“Neither did you,” Moses countered, proving the he could be just as kindly.  “I am sorry I have brought this on you however.”

The old man gazed forward at the darkened street they were moving through. He saw the bodies moving up and down the pavement and knew that anonymity in the flotsam of human tragedy was quite possible and that it might serve the doctor who was trying to help him, if he disappeared into it. Moses had hoped that Aaron could help him because even though he remembered nothing about his past, his senses were still intact and he could feel things at times that were capable of aiding him as much as his lost memories.  

From the moment he had meant Aaron Stone, he had been able to feel comfortable and strangely assured by the doctor’s presence.  He knew now that it was nothing to do with the young man’s profession and everything to do with Aaron himself.  Moses did not know why but he knew he could entrust his life to Aaron and never disappointed.  However, Moses had no wish to be the harbinger of doom for the doctor either.

“Perhaps you should just let me go Aaron,” Moses replied, no longer wishing to think of the man who had risked himself as just his doctor but as a friend.  “Let me go before it becomes any worse for you.”

Aaron shifted his gaze from the road ahead long enough to show the old man his incredulity.

“No,” Aaron shook his head, not even needing to think about it any further. “I’m not going to let you disappear in the hopes that they won’t find you. I’m not going to walk away just to make things easier for me.”

“You’ve already lost your friend,” Moses countered, “I do not wish you to lose your life as well.”

“Bullshit!” Aaron snapped, feeling a burst of anger spiling out of him because of that statement and with the situation in general. “My life is already in danger.  It was the moment I chose to help you escape and that was my choice because I want to know what is so goddamn important that it was worth Stuart’s life just to get to you!  I want to know why they want you so bad and I think you know a lot more than you’re saying and I don’t mean that just as your psychiatrist!” 

“I do not know anything specific,” Moses sighed out loud, understanding his anger as well as feeling responsible for it.  “I only know that the Malcolm Building is a place of evil.  I can feel things even if I cannot remember.  I feel as if I know you though I cannot understand how that can be.  When you speak the name of John Malcolm, I am filled with fear and loathing.  I cannot explain to you any better than that I’m afraid.  I wish I did know why my memories do not come to me or what my name is. Each time I try to remember it, my mind rebels against the desire and I am plunged into insanity. I am sorry for your friend, I wish more than anything I could have prevented it but I cannot even help myself.”

The sorrow in Moses’ voice touched Aaron and he immediately felt badly for raising his voice to the man.  After all, Moses was as much a victim in this as Stuart had been.  It had been Aaron’s choice not to co-operate; Moses had little to do with that decision.  The psychiatrist in Aaron knew that he was simply displacing his anger, taking it out on the patient when the person he should be angry at sat in a penthouse office of the Monolith, a place he was really starting to believe, was evil.

“Its not your fault Moses,” Aaron found himself saying.  “I don’t blame you and I sure as hell don’t want you to deal with them on your own.  I said I wanted to help you and I still mean it.  Except now I also want to help you because I need to understand why Stuart was killed.  I need to know so I can do something about it.”

“It is a dangerous path you seek to travel with me, however I am grateful for the companionship,” Moses replied, affected by the younger man’s words more than he cared to admit.  He had an intuition that he had spent many years this way, too many as a matter of fact and to have companionship, even if it was fleeting, was not unwelcomed. 

After all, who knew how long he had been alone? 

 ************\r\n\r\n


The elves had come to one conclusion as they travelled once again through the world of men, they incapable of leaving any landscape untouched.  

For most of the night they travelled swiftly without pause, determined to put as much distance between themselves and their captors earlier on.  Legolas had only the stars to guide him on his quest to find Mithrandir and even that small benefice was centuries out of date.  It had been the place of his last known whereabouts and it was more than likely that Mithrandir, if he still lived, had moved on a long time ago.  Although Legolas had refused to admit the Istar could be dead throughout the journey from Valinor, the things they were encountering in the world of men was giving him good reason to change his steadfast opinion.

There were things in this world that were almost akin to sorcery far potent than any Legolas had seen in his long life.  He knew on some level that many of these things were devices for men shared one common trait with dwarfs and this was their love of creating wonders from stone and steel.  The devices were more elaborate certainly and some of them functioned in a manner no elf could even begin to conceive but they were still devices.  Such power at the hands of a race that still appeared young and foolish to him was a dangerous thing and for once Legolas did not know if Mithrandir was capable of acquitting himself against it.

It was not long before they were forced to leave the forest in which they were travelling and emerge into the open once again.  Beyond the tree line, the paved roads seemed endless.  There were structures every where and Legolas came to the conclusion that while mankind progressed considerably since the Fourth Age, his taste in architecture was severely lacking.  The buildings they came upon were ugly and grey, sometimes they were covered in facades of glass but mostly they appeared like towers one might find in Barad-dűr .  Aesthetics apparently held little importance to man of this age. 

Taking advantage of the darkness, the three elves remained close to the shadows as they moved through the streets, trying to fade into the background despite everything about them drawing attention.  However, they were not accosted in any way, merely becoming recipients of some rather odd looks from the people they encountered.  Elladan’s observation earlier that the race of men had unified was not incorrect. As they walked through the paved streets, they noted that there were many racial types with also lent credence that the language of Westron had been lost because of this amalgamation of cultures. 

He also noted that there were two kinds of paved roads.  One was a dark road with lines running through its centre while the other, a small walkway flanking the former was obviously more favoured since no one took the large road.  Like the White City of Gondor, lamp posts also framed these streets though it was not flame that created the illumination but a source of power unknown to the elves. 

“Where are their horses?” Elladan asked as the number of people they were seeing increased. 

“Horses?” Legolas looked at his companion and realised that it was a valid observation. 

“Yes,” Elladan declared, “we have travelled a great distance and have seen no horses. How do these people travel?”

“Perhaps they do so on foot,” Elrohir suggested, taking note of a two young females staring at them and bursting into a loud set of giggles before they went on their way. 

“We really need to change our clothes,” Legolas remarked, “We are too easily recognised as different.”

“At least our ears are covered,” Elladan smirked and then added, “though I wish my sense of smell were diminished a little.  I do not know what these people have done to the air but they have a great deal to answer for.  I do not think even the stench from Mount Doom is as contaminated as this.’

Suddenly, they were blinded by twin strobes of bright light coming towards them. The glare was so sharp that they were forced to turn away as the brilliance was accompanied by a low rumbling sound that sounded not unlike the mechanism that powered the craft that had brought them to shore.  As the source of it approached, all three stared in awe as the metal beast drove past them, explaining all at once why none of the people they had seen walked on the dark road and why there were no horses.  The beast moved past them swiftly, trailing smoke expelled from its innards and was clearly mastered by the mortal inside it.

“Well now you know why they have no horses, they have carriages that do not require them,” Elrohir glanced at his brother.

“I had no idea they were this creative,” Elladan replied, still staring after the mechanical beast as it disappeared into the darkness, the red lights behind it flashing periodically as it drew farther away into the night. 

“Creative?” Legolas snorted, “what is exuding from that thing is poison. Can you not smell it?”

“I have given up using my nose in this place,” Elladan said sarcastically.

“How long are we to travel in this manner?” Elrohir asked, tearing his gaze away from a small building with a clear glass face.  Judging by the manner in which items of clothing were being displayed, the elf gathered that they had entered something of a mercantile district.  Though many of the shops were close, the ones that were open exuded aromatic flavours that could only be food.  The scent of it made the elf’s stomach rumble for in their haste to escape their captors, they had only packed the essentials, which unfortunately, did not include food. 

“I do not know,” Legolas frowned. “We must seek shelter but I do not know where we could find it in this place, or how to ask anyone for guidance.”

“We should at least eat,” Elladan pointed out.  “My strength to continue on foot would be a good deal better on a full stomach.”

“I cannot disagree with you,” the prince of Mirkwood agreed.   “It would be interesting to see what passes for a decent meal in this place.”

“If it is anything like what they consider clothing, I shudder to think,” Elrohir retorted. “I still cannot believe that fetching young woman allowed herself to be displayed in such a manner.  She was truly exquisite and yet decadently indecent.”

“Perhaps they are not inhibited by their bodies,” Legolas shrugged, attempting to be fair regarding the customs of the mortals.  

Elrohir however, was not listening.  His nose was leading him into one of the shops because of the exotic aroma of food that was coming from it.  It was a scent that was laced in spices and had the faint essence of meat to it.  For three elves who had eaten nothing in almost a day, the aroma was quite tempting.   As the entered the premises, the food was already prepared and waiting at the counter manned by a dark skinned mortal of Haradirim descent.  The human regarded the new arrivals somewhat strangely and spoke to them, no doubt inquiring of them what they wanted.  The language of shop owners was universal, even if the words sounded different.

Their presence in the establishment captured the attention of other patrons and made the elves feel very self conscious.  Legolas hoped that barter was still in existence because he knew of no other way to communicate what he wanted.  Producing a gold coin that was a remnant of the kind used as currency in Gondor, Legolas handed it to the puzzled owner of the shop.  The man stared at Legolas for a moment but his eyes spoke volumes when it widened at the sight of gold.  He examined the coin by biting into it, a practice Legolas was familiar with despite being away from the business of trading for almost a hundred millennia. 

Apparently their offering was acceptable to the owner for they were seated within a few short minutes, being served whatever food they had pointed to.   Their presence was still a matter of fascination by the other patrons of the establishment but Legolas did not expect it to be any different. At least they knew that gold was still a valuable commodity and would help them survive in this alien world. 

“Be careful with that, if I recall correctly, the Easterlings like their food spicy,” Legolas advised Elladan as the elf was about to dig into their meal.  Fifty years married to an Easterling had left that indelible memory in his mind, especially when he recalled how long it took him to become accustomed to Melia’s cooking.  He had loved the woman dearly but she had never been that good a cook. 

The bottle of cold, dark fluid in his hand preoccupied Legolas as he examined it closely.  Cold vapours rose out of its narrow mouth and Legolas was rather amazed at how icy it felt against the skin.  It seemed to be a favoured drink because many of the other diners were also partaking of it.  He held it to his lips and was surprised by the tingle against his tongue and how the cold seemed to complement the taste.

“You are right,” Elladan replied as the taste exploded against his tongue but it was not unpleasant, just hot. 

“Try this,” Legolas told his companions as he drained the bottle in his hand .

“You ought to take care,” Elrohir remarked with a grin, “you know how useless you are with strong drink.”

Legolas shot him a look before retorting, “this does not appear to contain spirits of any kind but it is intoxicating.”

Despite their presence being a source of discussion within the premises, they were for the moment left alone as they dined on their exotic meal.  Legolas took the time to look about the place and was grateful that the hygiene in such places had greatly improved since the Fourth Age.  Legolas admired the humanity ability to endure and was grateful that they had survived the Dark Age that had come upon them after the elves had gone.  Eru had made them a hardy people who because their lack of immortality, gave them the fierce need to endure at all costs.  Legolas was pleased that they had reached some measure of prosperity though their urbanization seemed to have gotten a little out of control. 

Suddenly his gaze fell upon two men entering the premises.  Their faces were grim as they made their way towards the owner of the shop owner and something about their manner made Legolas tense.  He glanced briefly at Elladan and Elrohir and noted that the twins were also staring at their new arrivals with similar suspicion.  Legolas unconsciously reached for his bow as they stood at the counter, appearing unarmed to the naked eye, however, the elf had remembered the size of the weapons they had been threatened with when they were accosted on the high seas and knew that they were easily concealed. 

The shop owner seemed to have similar suspicions of danger as well for he approached them rather nervously.  Though Legolas did not understand the words, the elf gathered that the man was asking the duo what they wanted.  Their reaction though abrupt was ultimately predictable. As anticipated one, pulled out a weapon, pointing it to the helpless shopkeepers face and shouting his demands.  The second man pulled out a longer version of the weapon, aiming at the patrons, waving it about and engendering cries of fear from the children and the women in particular.

Elrohir’s first impulse was to attack and both Elladan and Legolas could see him wishing to.  However Legolas ordered him to stand down, wishing the situation to play out a little more before they decided how to act.  Meanwhile, the thief at the counter discovered the gold coin Legolas had used to pay for their meal amongst the other earnings the shop owner was being forced to relinquish.   It did not take him long to determine its source and when the man barked orders at the companion terrorizing the patrons, Legolas knew that he was going to come towards them.

He was right.  

Within seconds, the second thief had marched up to Elrohir and was shouting his demands for the rest of their gold.  Legolas had risen to his feet, keeping his bow concealed beneath the table for the moment although he was poised to act.  The man was shoving the barrel of the weapon into Elrohir’s shoulder and both Elladan and Legolas could see the Prince of Imladris was fast losing his temper. 

“Can you take him?” Legolas asked.

The thief shouted at him but since Legolas could not understand a word he was saying and did not care to for that matter, the elf ignored him.

“If you can deal with his companion, I can take him,” Elrohir answered quietly.

Their conversation seemed to infuriate the man and he lashed out with the butt of the weapon striking Elrohir.  Elladan moved towards his brother but the thief trained his weapon on the elf with every intention of using it to restrain him.  Suddenly, Elrohir was on his feet, faster than any mortal present had likely seen in quite some time, he slammed his palm into the barrel of the weapon, forcing it towards the ceiling and away from his brother’s face. With his other hand, he threw a punch into his attacker’s jaw, using the man’s ensuing distraction to wrestle the weapon away from him.

The first man, seeing his friend being attacked, quickly aimed his weapon at Elrohir and though Legolas did not know how the thing worked, he was in no hurry to see it used especially on him comrade.  Without needing to think twice, Legolas loaded his bow with lightning speed and let one arrow fly.  The projectile tore into the thief’s shoulder, forcing the human to drop the weapon he was holding to the floor with a loud clattering noise. 

“Are you alright?” Elladan asked Elrohir with concern as he noted an ugly bruise forming against his brother’s pale skin.

“It is nothing that will not heal in time,” Elrohir replied as he handed Elladan the strange weapon and searched for something to restrain the fallen man at his feet. 

As he did so, the establishment burst into a series of loud cheers and clapping as the other patrons expressed their admiration at the elves handiwork. While Legolas would like nothing better than to soak up their adulation, this attention to their presence could not be good and he suddenly felt the need to leave while they still could.  Legolas approached the man he had subdued with his bow, hearing the human curse a litany of words whose meaning was clear enough.  Leaving the arrow where it was because removing it would cause too much pain, Legolas bound the man’s wrists together to ensure he would cause no further mischief when they departed. Elladan had done the same to his companion.

“We should go,” Legolas declared despite the fact that the shopkeeper was shaking his hand rigorously with a smile on his face, probably offering them thanks for their assistance.  He even returned the piece of gold that had sparked the thieves’ interest.  However, Legolas refused its return but helped himself to several bottles of the bottled drink, a sacrifice the shop owner was more than happy to spare after their heroics on his behalf.

Emerging into the night once more, the trio did not get very far before they heard a loud screeching noise speeding towards them.  There was a moment of pandemonium before they found themselves facing two mechanical beasts, the bright glow of their orbs like eyes glaring at them.  These were unlike the carriages they had seen earlier because a spinning red light sat on top of each vehicle, almost like a beacon.  

Whatever that crimson light was meant to signify meant little since Legolas and his companions were surrounded with nowhere to run.

 ************\r\n\r\n


The investigation was not going well.

Every instinct that Eve possessed told her that John Malcolm was responsible for Richard Falstaff’s death.  Unfortunately, her instincts would not stand up in a court of law and the fact that she could find no evidence that might support her belief, seemed to indicate that Malcolm had little to fear from justice being done.   As anticipated, when she interviewed the staff in the financial section of Malcolm Industries where Falstaff had worked, their stories deviated little from the statements Malcolm had been good enough to prepare for her.  It was clear that they were instructed before hand of what to say and thus Eve found very little that could explain why the man was killed.

She knew that he was not simply a senior accountant even before she had searched his office and found nothing that could explain why he was killed.  When she moved the desk she found very slight indentation marks in the plush carpet and knew this office had been made ready for her perusal.  This was not Falstaff’s office and appeared as if it had been put together quickly so that she would believe that he was exactly what Malcolm claimed, just another accountant.  Unfortunately Eve’s attempt to push the issue was met with indifference.  

Realising that she would receive no assistance from Malcolm Industries, she went to see Mrs. Falstaff, the grieving widow.  Victoria Falstaff was unable to say clearly what her husband did for the company, other than what the fact that he was an accountant.  In fact, she was very reluctant to say anything at all about him.   When Eve insisted she try and remember, Mrs. Falstaff would only state that she had a child to think of and that she was relying heavily upon the income coming from her husband insurance policy, a policy held by a company also owned by Malcolm Industries.

Eve sat at her desk in the precinct, wondering if she was simply going to have to relinquish this entire matter into the unsolved case archives since there was no other avenues left to pursue.  She supposed she could pull up the Falstaff’s bank records and see if there were any large deposits or  determine what kind of salary the man actually earned since it would go a long way to proving that Falstaff was not just any other accountant.  Not many she knew wore Armani suits and even less were found in parts of town where they were easy targets for muggers, if that was what actually happened to the man.

She had other cases to deal with anyway and though she hated being so helpless when a man had lost his life, there was little else she could do unless a new lead turned up.  Deciding that she was not going to work herself up into a royal state of gloom at being stymied in this investigation, Eve left her desk bound for the Starbuck’s across the street. The only thing that could make her feel better at this point was a Frappacino.   She had emerged into the front desk area of the police station when suddenly, she heard someone shouting at her.

Well there’s something you don’t see very day.

This, Eve said to herself when she saw four officers escorting what could only be described as three men playing Robin Hood and his extremely effeminate merry men.  Effeminate was perhaps not the right word, Eve thought as she and the rest of the police officers present gawked in a mixture of amusement and astonishment at the trio being led to the front desk.   It was not that they were effeminate but rather very pretty for men with their long hair and their finely sculpted features.  Their clothes were straight out of an Errol Flynn movie in earthy shades one would expect of people used to traipsing about in the woods.  They seemed rather overwhelmed by their circumstances until one of them caught sight of her and began to shout.

“Undomiel! Onónë!”  

 Eve could swear that he was addressing her but she had no idea what he was saying.  All three seemed extremely shocked at the sight of her and that inspired Eve’s curiosity enough to ask what was going on.

“What is this?” Eve asked the arresting officer, a rather brutish looking man named Idzikowski who had a heart of gold, when he wasn’t attempting to impersonate Dennis Franz.  

”Picked this guys up on an INS warrant,” Idzikowski replied as the rest of his comrades prompted the three towards processing.  “Coast guard picked them up off the coast near Long Island.  On the way to shore they escaped, no identification papers, nothing. Don’t even know what language they’re speaking.  Coast guard describes them as possibly Swedish or Norwegian. Anyway, we’re meant to hold them here until INS comes to get them.”

“Swedish huh?” Eve ran her eyes over the men who were still staring at her.  All she could see in their eyes was shock, shock and astonishment because of her.  Eve could not understand why.

“Undomiel!” The tall one with the dark hair and intense eyes cried out again and this time there was no mistaking that he was directing his outburst at her. There was a hint of desperation in his voice, as if he really needed for her to listen to him.  It unnerved Eve a little but then lately, everything had affected her more than it should have. 

“Looks like you make a friend,” Idzikowski grinned with what could only be described in Webster’s dictionary as your classic shit-eating grin.

“Couldn’t be the worst thing that happen to me today,” Eve shrugged though she was rather uneasy as what this was all about. “Could we get a translator in here?”

“We could if we know what language they’re speaking.  I mean if you ask me, they look like they’re a couple of fags from the Village.”

Eve rose her brow and gave Idzikowski a look, “I believe the correct term is ‘homosexual’, sergeant.”

“Whatever,” Idzikowski shrugged.  “Ain’t gonna mean shit when they hit the lock up.”

Somehow the idea of these men being placed into lock up even if it was for a day or so did not sit well with Eve.  As they were lead away to processing, she noticed they were still staring at her wearing that same astonished expression. However, while the tall, dark haired one was no longer shouting at her, she knew that something about her had sparked off his outburst.  For the first time in days, Eve’s thoughts were fixed upon something other than Malcolm Industries and John Malcolm. 

All thoughts of the Frappacino she had intended to get, faded from her mind. Instead she lingered close by watching the officers remove the trio’s personal effects, which were just as baffling as everything else about them.  Speculation began to stir across the precinct room that they were either circus people or crazed method actors.  Someone even suggested they might be from California. 

While they were being taken in for finger printing, Eve examined with interest, the personal effects taken from the three men.  The most noticeable items were naturally the swords, the bow and its accompanying arrows.  She had in her time seen weapons of this nature but the there was a beauty to them that surpassed anything she had seen in a museum.    However, the weapons did not compare to the contents of the leather pouch next to them. 

Whether or not they knew it, the trio had a veritable fortune in gold coins accompanying their small arsenal.  Emptying the contents onto the table for a closer look, the coins glittered under the harsh illumination of the precinct room’s fluorescent lights. Eve thought they might be Krugerrands or doubloons because she could think of nothing else that match its description and reached up to pick one of the shiny pieces.  She gazed at intricate patterns etched in gold against her palm and felt her mind started to wander….

It came upon her so suddenly that Eve had no idea what hit her.

Suddenly the room was spinning so fast that the faces around her melted into a blur of colour.  The same crippling disorientation that had attacked her in the elevator at the Malcolm Building assaulted her with even more ferocity. Only this time; there were images to accompany the strange feelings coursing through her.  While she did not feel the mind numbing fear of her earlier episode, she did feel something kindling inside her, something that had been clawing its way through the mire of darkness within her soul ever since she laid eyes on the Monolith.  Eve did not understand what she was seeing and was certain that she was going insane just before she lost complete control of her senses. 

Faces appeared, fleeting images that left enough traces inside of her to form memories. The three men she had seen earlier flashed before her and the sensation they engendered were one of familiarity.  She saw herself among them, appearing almost unreal, like the fantasy a young girl might have about being a princess in some far away land. It would almost be laughable if Eve were not seeing before her.  She saw herself with the three, smiling, laughing, knowing the love for them that could come only with a long association.  She knew them.  They were apart of her but she did not know how.  Their light filled her soul though not completely.  Someone else was missing. 

And then she saw him and nothing else seemed to matter.  

 ************\r\n\r\n


Something acrid was being held under her nose.

Eve pulled away from the stench as the fog lifted from her mind. Her senses were awakened by the pungent smell assaulting her nostrils and she turned her head trying to escape it.  When she opened her eyes, she found herself being surrounded by faces looking down at her with concern.  Sergeant Idzikowski was apparently the one responsible for her assault with smelling salts.  She stared up at them with confusion until more of her situation became clear and she realised that she was lying on the floor. The realisation made her sit up right abruptly though it was an action she soon regretted because it sent another wave of dizziness through her.  Fortunately, this time it passed quickly enough.

“What the hell happened?” She muttered when she was able to focus.

“You fainted Detective,” Idzikowski informed her dutifully as the some of the officers dispersed realising that she was all right and in seemingly good hands.  Someone had brought her a cup of water which Eve gratefully accepted.

“Fainted?” Eve balked before she could even take a sip. “I don’t faint!” 

“You’re on the floor,” he retorted. “Looks like fainting to me.”

Eve scrambled to her feet, brushing off Idzikowski’s efforts to help her up.  “You mean I just fell over?”

“Well you kind of went spacey first holding that thing in your hands,” he added. 

Eve looked down at her hand and saw that she was still clutching the coin in the centre of her palm.  The images of what she had seen stayed in her mind and she knew that was something was happening to her, something to do with those three men.  Somehow, they knew her and though Eve could not understand how it was possible, she was utterly certain that she knew them too.  All her life, she had been plagued by this sense of intuition that allowed her to tell almost immediately, without the assistance of evidence or information what people were about.  It was one of the reasons she had entered law enforcement because being a cop helped her use this odd perception to help others.  

Right now, this perception was telling her to find out all she could about those three strangers.

“Must be a long day,” she said shrugging off the incident.  “Thanks everyone,” she looked at those officers who were still lingering around her in concern. “I’m okay.”

“You sure?” Idzikowski said dubiously, his own instincts telling her that there was more to it than she was letting on.  

“I’m sure,” she replied handing back the coin to him.  “So what happened to those three you brought in?” Eve asked, trying to sound casual as she straightened her clothes and ran her fingers through her hair.

“Well they’re in lock up,” Idzikowski replied after a moment, his mind shifting from concern to addressing her question.  “We tried finger printing them but that didn’t work.”

Eve started at him, “didn’t work?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, clearly disturbed. “They don’t have fingerprints, any of them.”

 ************\r\n\r\n

Eve stared at the items in the impound room a short time later, trying to make sense of everything she was seeing. 

Swords, bow and arrows, pouches made of leather, who even used these things any more? The gold coins stared at her in defiance, charging her to solve the riddle of what they were.   She read the report from the Coast Guard.  These men had been picked up off the coast of Bay Shore in a boat that had no visible means of artificial power other than sails.  There were enough rations in the ship for what was obviously an extended journey. So how far had they actually travelled? Even the captain of the cutter was at a loss to explain the whole affair.

European maritime agencies had been contacted but the officials at Bay Shore Coast Guard seemed unsurprised that they had no record of any sailing craft matching the description of the one they had towed in.  Captain Wallace had said it looked like something out of an old Viking movie.  He was almost relieved when they jumped ship to became someone else’s problem.  Idzikowski’s own apprehension report described how the three had prevented the hold up at a local Indian restaurant.

He had called her Undomiel. 

What did that mean? He said it with such passion and the expression in his eyes despite the shock and was one of joy. He had been happy to see her.  Eve did not even want to think about her fainting spell at the touch of one of those exquisitely engraved coins.  She was a rational person who believed in things that could be proven by science and by fact.  Yet she could not deny that too many times in her life, she had relied upon instincts that could be proven by none of these.  

The images of what she had seen while she had been unconscious were too vivid to ignore and they seemed to be the culmination of the strange things that she had been experiencing of late, ever since she returned from the Malcolm Building. She did not know how she knew those men in the lock up below but she could feel something for them that were difficult to explain. The mystery about them was deep enough with their inability to speak a recognisable language or the fact that none of them seemed to have fingerprints.  Where there should have been whorls and lines on their fingertips, there was only smooth skin with no pattern at all.

The policeman attempting to fingerprint them believed initially that they had intentionally burnt away their prints but the truth was, self-mutilation of this type usually left behind scars of some kind.  On closer examination, there was nothing of the kind on any of the trio’s hands. If anything, it looked like a natural omission of their genetic make up, which only made the whole thing even more bizarre. 

Her ruminations were leading Eve down a path she did not wish to go because it meant jeopardizing her badge, her career and perhaps more importantly, the assurance she had in her life that everything was just what it was, that nothing existed beneath the surface of what she perceived was reality. However, the more she thought about it, the more it dug its way into her mind, like a splinter that was driving her insane or more specifically towards a goal she could not deny.

Damn, Eve thought as she stood up from her desk and came to a decision, not realising that she had been sitting there for hours debating the subject.  

She was lucky if they didn’t throw her in jail for what she was about to do.

 ************\r\n\r\n

“It is impossible!” Elrohir exclaimed with no small amount of exasperation at Elladan as they sat inside their latest prison.

“It is not impossible!” His twin returned just as vehemently.  “You saw her! You both saw her! That was the Evenstar!” 

“It looks a great deal like her,” Elrohir conceded that much even though he was not as convinced as his brother.  “But the woman out there is human and our sister, however she chose to live her out her life, was elvish!” 

Elladan refused to believe it.  The woman they had seen before being brought into this cell was the splitting image of their sister.  The elf could not accept that it was mere coincidence that allowed their paths to cross so fortuitously.  Fate had brought them together and Elladan refused to ignore it especially in the face of the quest they had come here to fulfil.  Elladan was certain that Iluvutar had guided them here so that they would find the Evenstar, who was born of this time and could help them navigate through this world to find Mithrandir. 

“She may have been elvish but her soul did not return to Mandos,” Elladan declared hotly. “We know that the souls of mortals are different. Iluvutar said that he allowed their souls to go beyond. What if it was to live other lives? What if he did not grant them immortality as much as he granted them the power to reincarnate?”

“Elladan, I agree with you, she does resemble our sister but we have no way of knowing that the similarities run any deeper than just the skin,” Elrohir said trying to calm him, aware of how passionate his brother can be when properly motivated. Most of the time Elladan kept him emotions in tight control in contrast to Elrohir who liked to express them openly.  However if a cause inspired his brother enough, Elrohir knew perfectly well how determined Elladan could be.

Legolas had not weighed in with his opinion because he did believe Elladan.  

He believed because once upon a time, he had loved a human and she had died, the way all mortals do at the culmination of their existence.  He had mourned her dearly and thought that she was gone from him forever. When he arrived at Valinor almost half a century later, he was still pining for his lost love but to his surprise, Legolas discovered an elvish woman born on the same day as her passing, was carrying her soul.  There was never any doubt in his mind that the woman he mourned had been reborn in a new body with no memories of her past.  Legolas knew her soul was the same as his Melia. Through the grace of Iluvutar, she had been returned to him as Ariel.

“She is the Evenstar,” Elladan refused to entertain any other possibility, “I know it in my heart that woman is our sister born in human flesh.”

“Well whether or not she is the Evenstar, it is hardly beside the point,” Elrohir declared, getting back to the point at hand.  “It does not change the fact that we are trapped inside this prison.”

The dungeons were different from any that the elves had experienced in their lifetime. It was far cleaner and well lit.  Harsh white light glared at them from overhead.  There were receptacles for sanitary purposes and the bunks for prisoners. The steel bars allowed the prisoners to see each other thus removing the feeling of isolation somewhat.   When they had first been shown into their cell, the other prisoners had stared and offered derisive words whose maliciousness none of the elves doubted, however, the novelty of their appearance had worn off and now they were largely ignored.

“I think we face a greater problem,” Legolas declared examining the ink stains on his fingertips,  “they were very upset that our fingers showed no marks.”

“Even more so because we all bore the same trait,” Elrohir nodded in agreement. “Unfortunately we cannot explain to them that this is so because we are elves.”

“That is for certain,” Legolas retorted. “I fear that the next time we see them, they will wish to examine us more closely and I do not think we will be able to hide our differences any longer.”

If Legolas expected a response from his comrades, he would have been disappointed because no sooner than he had spoken those words, the dungeon erupted into a cacophony of hooting sounds and whistling.  Legolas looked down the corridor and saw the woman that Elladan was convinced was the Evenstar approaching their cell.  

 ************\r\n\r\n 

“Are you sure about this?” Idzikowski looked at Eve.

“Yeah,” Eve nodded. “I spoke to INS and they agreed to let me take these boys over to their offices.  They’ve got a translator waiting on their end.”

“Beats me why you’d want to handle these weirdoes though,” he muttered, aware that this was all very irregular but Eve McCaughley was a good cop and if she had instincts about these three men, then who was he to argue?  Besides, there was something spooky about the trio and Idizikowski was glad to see them gone. It was not his place to debate the matter with a detective and a lieutenant nor was it his badge in jeopardy if she was anything but on the level about what she was doing.

“I want to find out where they’re from,” Eve replied evasively, questioning herself for the hundredth time what she could possibly be thinking by embarking on this insane course of action.  

“Try Never Never Land,” the crusty officer snorted.

Eve gave the man a look before regarding her new charges once the door to their cell was slid open rather noisily.  They stared at her blankly though the one who had called out after her wore a decidedly smug expression on his face.  He turned to the others and made a comment that neither she nor Idzikowski understood but engendered a look of annoyance from his companions.  

Eve gestured for them to come forward and though their faces showed their uncertainty, they nevertheless complied and obeyed.  With only hand signals to cross the language barrier, Eve was rather pleased with herself when she communicated her desire well enough for them to follow her down the corridor.  Once again, she was struck by this sense of knowing them despite the inability to speak their language.  However, they seemed to know what she was attempting to say and that went a long way to convincing Eve that despite the insanity of her actions, she was doing the right thing.

Eve had waited until most of the officers had left for the evening and the night shift was on duty.  She had taken the liberty of removing their belongings from impound which included their weapons and for some odd reason, several bottles of Coke.  Having secured their release, all she had to do was get them out of the station before anyone raised any uncomfortable questions.  Those who asked her what she was doing were met with the same story she had provided Idzikowski.  The INS had requested that the prisoners be brought to their offices where a translator was waiting and she had volunteered to undertake the duty.

She made no effort to speak to them and a part of Eve was telling herself that if she was jumped by these men as soon as they left the precinct and murdered, it would be entirely her own fault.  Fortunately, they seemed to know that stealth was needed and played their parts just as well, making no effort to speak and remaining quiet until they were out of the precinct.  A visible change overtook them she noticed, once they were outdoors.  The tension and grim demeanour had given away to ease.  Whether this was because they were free or out in the open, Eve could not say for certain.

She led them to her car, a T-bird convertible and gestured for them to get in.  The three seemed reluctant to enter the vehicle at first, staring at the car as if it were some kind of menace. Eve climbed in first and ordered them to get in.  While they may not have understood the words, her tone was unmistakable and they soon joined her in the vehicle though somewhat nervously.  

“Alright,” she turned to face them from the driver’s seat, not really expecting them to understand a word she was saying but it made her feel better just to try. “I have no idea why I have just risked my career on you three rejects from a Prince Valiant film but if you try anything, I will shoot you.”  Just to prove her point, she showed them the gun she was carrying. Their widened eyes told Eve they understood her meaning.

“Eve,” she pointed to herself deciding she should at least know their names since she was breaking them out of jail.

“Undomiel,” the one who had spoken earlier stated instead.

“No, not whatever you just said,” she grumbled and tapped her chest again. “Eve.”

“Eve,” he said uncertainly. 

“And you are?” She pointed to his chest hoping that he would reciprocate in the exchange.

“Elladan,” he answered after a moment.

“Elladan,” she had a little trouble pronouncing it because he spoke with an unfamiliar accent. The word rolled off the tongue and had a lyrical quality about it which Eve found she quite liked.

“Elrohir,” he pointed to the almost identical male next to him and it took no feat of genius for Eve to guess that they were family, brothers most likely.   

“Legolas,” the blond replied in turn.

 “Sit tight,” she instructed as she started the car.  The roar of the engine sent all three jumping in their seats, startled by the noise.  It took a few seconds to calm them down before she could even leave the parking lot.  

One thing was for certain, Eve thought as she drove, they weren’t Swedish.


Chapter 5 - Aggressive Therapy

Aaron knew that was he was about to do was dangerous.

This had always been a last resort measure, something psychiatrists used when conventional therapy did not yield results.  If time had permitted, Aaron would have preferred to apply those methods to help Moses regain his lost memories but the truth was, they were running out of time.  He had to find out what the old man knew immediately because the truth was the only weapon they possessed against Malcolm Industries and this was the fastest way to acquire it. 

Although he was familiar with the dynamics of hypnotherapy and had used it on a number of occasions, he felt a certain amount of apprehension at employing it on Moses. So much of Moses’ condition was an unknown and prudence demanded that they approached the tampering of his subconscious mind with caution. However, the urgency of their situation required Aaron to attack the old man’s condition with a more daring form of treatment, if hypnotherapy could be called that at all.  

Since releasing Moses from the psychiatric ward, the doctor and patient had spent their time in a motel in Brooklyn, trying to decide what to do.  Moses seemed content to let him make all the decisions and Aaron would not have minded this if he had actually had some idea of what they should do.  Although his first impulse was to go to the police, he was soon forced to remember the nature of his enemy.  John Malcolm was a part of a dynasty that was almost as prominent as the Kennedys. Accusing the man of a crime was tantamount to sacrilege, particularly when Aaron no proof to support his allegations. 

Stuart’s death was an accident as far as everyone else was concerned. Only he and Sandra Collins knew otherwise and he seriously doubted she was going to make that statement public and implicate herself unless of course, hell really did freeze over. Thus Aaron was forced to use the only weapon he had at his disposal and that was forcing Moses to remember what it was that frightened Malcolm Industries so much that they were willing to kill them both to leave it buried in his mind.

“How do you feel?” Aaron asked Moses as he sat before Moses who was nestled comfortably in an armchair within their motel room.

“Rested,” the man muttered somewhat dazed. 

“Good,” Aaron replied with a soft voice.  It was easy enough to put Moses in the hypnotic state because the old man trusted him and a large part of the exercise was the willingness to trust someone enough to open up your inner most psyche to his ministrations.   “There’s a flight of stairs where you are, you need to climb up those stairs.”

“Stairs,” Moses nodded, his eyes were closed and his voice sounded heavy with drowsiness.

“Are you walking up those stairs?” Aaron asked, setting the stage for Moses to unlock the memories his conscious mind barred from him. 

“Yes,” he answered dreamily, “I’m walking up the stairs.”

“There’s a door waiting for you Moses,” Aaron continued to speak in his soothing tone. 

“I can see it,” Moses replied, his eyelids fluttering a little as he added further, “I am afraid of it.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Aaron said automatically since this was the usual response of most people when they were about to take this step of the hypnosis. “I’m going to right there with you and I won’t let anything happen to you. You can trust me Moses,” he added, surprising himself by how much he meant it.

“I know,” he nodded slowly. “I could always trust you, Strider.”

Aaron blinked, momentarily thrown by the sudden remark, “who is Strider, Moses?”

“You are,” Moses answered, “you have always been Strider. You were Strider before you were anything else.”

Aaron was confused but he did not wish to press Moses further when he was in such a vulnerable state.  The doctor filed away the conversation for further reference and continued with the hypnosis, “Moses, you need to go through that door.”

“I need to go through that door,” he repeated in his stupor. 

“When you go through that door, you will step into the past.  You will be able to remember everything about that past.  All you need to do is step through and if you feel at all uncomfortable, you just have to tell me and we’ll leave together, okay Moses?” Aaron asked.

“Yes Strider,” he muttered again, “together.”

“Are you through the door?” Aaron inquired once more. 

“Yes,” he nodded. 

“Where are you?” The doctor asked, taking note of every action his patient was displaying.

“On the street, it is very cold,” Moses replied, his teeth chattering a little as spoke. The hands resting on the armrests of the chair were now folded as if he were trying to shield himself from the icy weather he was experiencing in his mind. “I know a mission where they serve warm soup, I want to go there.”

“Okay,” Aaron saw no reason why they could not let this play out for the moment, “how long have you been living on the streets Moses?”

“A long time,” he replied. “So long I cannot remember when it began.  I think I have been like this for many years.”

“Why do you say that Moses?” 

“Because I remember when people still rode around in carriages, with horses pulling them wherever they wanted to go. You could wander the streets and not worry about being run over or noisy horns screaming at you to leave the roads.  In those days, the roads belong to everyone, not merely the wealthy or the influential.  Even the displaced like myself could walk the paths and still be master of his own journey.  It was a more civilised age when the air smelled sweeter, not full of chemicals and poisons that came with automobiles. I remember when I saw the first one and thought that it would never catch on but I have been wrong before….”

Aaron paused a moment to consider what Moses was saying and decided the old man must be expressing some latent delusions because Moses may have appeared old but he certainly could not have been wandering the streets as a derelict before the advent of cars. 

“Moses, we’re going to go back a little further now,” Aaron decided that this particular phase of Moses’ life was telling them nothing.  He could have asked the patient his name but instinct told him to leave that question alone for the moment.  During their sessions, Moses had been his most agitated when Aaron probed deeply into his identity.  Whatever trauma had brought about Moses’ amnesia, it was closely linked to the man’s sense of self and his name.  

”I want you to go back to a time when you were not wandering the streets,” Aaron spoke after a few seconds, “to the time when you first met John Malcolm.”

Moses seemed to twitch uncomfortably, making Aaron question the wisdom of asking him such a question because his eyeballs were moving faster behind his lids, Aaron could trace their moments even in the dim light of their motel room.  Moses had placed his hands on the armrests once again but his nails were digging into the fabric.  Aaron could see the muscles of his neck tighten into chords of taut flesh and his jaw clenched as if he were fighting to restrain himself. 

“I saw him,” Moses said smouldering with anger.  

Aaron felt a chill running through his skin and for a moment, he could have sworn that the shadows in the room seemed to have grown somehow. The room did not look dingy but rather cavernous, as if it was transforming to correspond with Moses’ dark mood.  It was not the first time that Aaron experienced the occurrence and when he looked at Moses, his patient did not look old or frail. His voice took on a quality of command that demanded respect from those listening to him.  

“Tell me about it,” Aaron nudged gently even though his insides were beginning to knot with uneasiness.

“He was standing at the foot of that terrible place, like a god about to take possession of his kingdom. I was not far wrong though no one would believe if they knew what I did.  He has a new body now but I know it is Malcolm. I have become accustomed to his changes.  He has surrounded himself with devout followers that ensure his secret does not escape and those who know the truth without permission, die.”

Aaron felt his heart pounding at the chilling words Moses was speaking, having no idea how much of this was delusion and how much of it was real.  “What do you mean by Malcolm having a new body?”

“Exile depleted much of his power,” Moses continued to speak. “When they banished him, they ensured he would never be able to take corporeal shape again but he has found a way to escape that limitation.  All he needs to continue in a new body, is to infuse his dark soul into an infant still slumbering in its mother’s womb. Once his soul is gone from his present receptacle, the body dies and he is born again, as heir and successor to his own empire.”

Aaron listened but he could not believe.  He did not want to believe. This was Moses’ delusion. It had to be.  Everything he knew about science and the world, refused to let him believe something like this could be true but if it was not, then why was Malcolm Industries so determined to get their hands on Moses?   Aaron considered the history of the Malcolm family and how little was known about them despite their prominence in the American culture.  They were like royalty in the same way that the Kennedys, the Rockefellers and the Vanderbilt’s once were.  While the sordid histories of all those families were a source of fascination to the rest of the world, the Malcolms had remained surprisingly untouched by the media.

The only time the family allowed the press near them was when it was time to announce a marriage or the birth of a new Malcolm. More often than not, this would usually be followed by a tragic death of the senior Malcolm.  It was a curiosity but not one that could be proven as foul play since it was something that had been recurring for the past 100 years. It was like the Kennedy curse but less noticeable.  If Moses was to be believed then the person who inherited the Malcolm fortune for the past four generations was the same man.  The idea of it impacted on Aaron’s mind with the same effect as all the air draining out of his lungs. 

“Moses, how do you know this?” Aaron asked softly, hiding how shaken he was despite his determination to believe this was nothing but nonsense. “How can you be sure that John Malcolm isn’t just another man?”  

“Because it was my duty to find out the truth,” Moses replied, “I was sent here to find the source of darkness. We all felt it, even as removed as we were from this world, we felt him coming.  The task was given to me because I had once battled the evils of the past and aided in his defeat. They thought I could do it again.”

“Who are you Moses?” Aaron finally asked because now more than ever, it was necessary that they know.  He needed something tangible to prove that this was all some fanciful story that Moses’ subconscious mind was feeding him to keep him away from the real trauma that had caused his amnesia.

Moses looked at him but the doctor was certain that Moses was not seeing his doctor but someone else entirely, “you know me Strider. You have known me for far longer than most men your age.  You know my name.”

“No I don’t,” Aaron repeated himself. “I need to know Moses, if I am to help you, I must know your name.”

“All right then,” Moses frowned as if the question was annoying and a waste of his time. “My name is…”

Moses never completed the sentence because he burst into an ear-piercing scream.  It was a cry that could only be described as being torn from someone in excruciating agony.  Moses fairly toppled out of the chair as he convulsed in pain, his hands flying towards his head as he howled so loudly that the sound cut through Aaron’s ears and his mind in quick succession.  However, that was not the worst of it.  His scream coincided with the sudden rumbling of the walls.  Aaron had been in Los Angeles during a quake and though it was one of the lesser tremors, it was completely eclipsed by what he was experiencing inside the room.  

Light globes brightened with powerful surges of electricity before shattering completely, sending glass in all directions.  Inside the bathroom, faucets exploded free from ceramic, with jets of water spraying forth from broken and exposed pipes.  Furniture rattled around the room, chairs and lamp stands toppled over themselves, while larger pieces like beds and tables shuddered across the floor.   Aaron’s eyes widened in astonishment as glasses shattered, picture frames clattered to the floor having broken loose from their hooks and joining the growing pile of debris.  

Throughout all this pandemonium, Moses was still screaming. His convulsions had driven him to the floor where he was lying on back, writhing in agony.  Aaron recovered his senses enough move, hurrying to the old man’s side as everything around them appeared to be tearing himself apart.  Aaron did not know what to think and did not want to address what was happening, not until he helped Moses from whatever dark place the old man had entered in his mind to precipitate such agony. 

“Moses!” Aaron cried out, pulling his patient to a sitting position, not that was an easy feat in itself since Moses’ fingers were still clawing at his hair. “Moses, find the door! Find the door in your mind! Listen to my voice, Moses. It’s me, Aaron.  Follow my voice back to the door!”

Moses struggled a little bit more and then the convulsions began to slow, inciting Aaron to continue speaking, to lead him down the stairs away from the memories that had caused him so much pain.  “Just listen to my voice, Moses.  You’re leaving it all behind.  There’s only the door in front of you. Go to it, I’m there on the other side.”

“Door,” Moses muttered, his spasms becoming less violent by the second. 

“Come through Moses, come through and shut it behind you,” Aaron said finally, trying to sound calm even though his voice was cracking a little. 

Suddenly the tremors and the shuddering stopped.  Furniture hit the floor in mid tremor, creating a final explosion of sound.  The room was in darkness, with only the illumination of the buildings outside their window and the moon itself giving enough light for him to see the destruction left in its wake.  He could still hear the jets of water spewing from the damaged pipes and the feel the vibration in his bones.  Moses had all but stopped shaking now and Aaron surveyed the damage before him, realising that whatever had happened was connected to the old man, as impossible as it seemed.  The chaos of the past few minutes had been because Moses made it happen.  

Aaron was shaking himself, having not realised it until the insanity had passed and even then, he felt like had had woken up from a terrible dream and was trying to decide whether or not what he had seen was real.  Unfortunately, he was not dreaming and this whole incident with its nightmarish implications was all too real. 

“Jesus Christ,” the doctor whispered to himself even though he knew God had nothing to do with this.

 ************\r\n\r\n


“Well this is it,” Eve remarked as she opened the door to the house her father had left her upon his death.  

It was an old colonial style house that was much too big for just one person and while Eve could probably get a decent price for it if she ever decided to sell, there was a part of her that could not bear to imagine it in the hands of anyone else.  She and her brother Darien had grown up in this house. The pencil marks of their growth spurts were still on the doorway where her father had marked them so proudly and the house was filled with memories Eve was unwilling to let go.  Her mother had died of cancer when she was ten and her father lasted a year longer than Darien.  He never was quite the same after her brother had been killed and all Eve had left of those happy years was this house.  

Leading her unexpected guests into the place, Eve wondered whether or not she had taken complete leave of her senses. She had been asking this question of herself repeatedly ever since she chose to rescue these men from lock up.  Eve had no idea why she was risking her career on three strangers she had never laid eyes upon before but all her instincts said that what she was doing was the right thing.  She felt compelled to help them and though she did not know why, she also knew unconsciously that they would not harm her.

The three men followed her into the living room, looking about them with clear fascination.  Eve wished she understood what they were saying because she was drawing conclusions about them that did not make sense.  It was as if they were seeing everything for the first time. The reaction to the car had been one of outright fear and throughout most of the journey to the house, she had seen apprehension in their faces at being forced to ride in the vehicle.  It was only toward the end of the trip, when the realisation that they were not going to their deaths in her beloved T-bird did they start to feel a little easier about being in the thing.

Although they spoke among themselves and tried to make some effort to converse with her, Eve could not even begin to fathom the language they were speaking.  They looked as if they had stepped out of another time and she was certain that whatever they were speaking, she would be hard pressed to find a translator.  Being unable to speak to them frustrated her because her curiosity at who they were and where they had come from was overwhelming, particularly after that strange episode in the precinct room.

They were spreading throughout the room with unbridled fascination, studying everything closely.  The two brothers seemed to congregate in front of the mantelpiece studying the framed family photographs with deep interest.  

“That’s my brother,” Eve walked over to the two of them, noticing how they were staring at Darien’s picture.

They looked at her blankly, not understanding at first before Eve decided that she would have to find some other way to explain herself.  She thought quickly for a moment before coming up with an idea.  

”Brothers,” she tapped Elladan and Elrohir’s chest in quick sequence. Then she tapped her own chest and the image in the picture, “brother.”

Elladan nodded in understanding and tried the word on for size, “ber…oder,” he said.

“Brother,” she repeated slowly so he could hear the subtleties of the word’s pronunciation. 

“Brother,” he replied and then reached for her hand and pressed it against his chest and then against Elrohir’s.  “Brother.”

At first she did not comprehend what they were saying or how it could be possible. She started to pull away, shaking her head because she was certain that they were mistaken, that in her efforts to translate, they had confused the meaning of the word.  

“No,” she replied a little shaken but then remembered the images of her vision. She remembered that other world version of herself, the one that looked like a fairy princess in some fantasy realm and recalled the feelings of  love and affection she had felt these men.  It was not romantic love but something warmer, something familiar, like she had felt in her own reality for her parents and Darien.

“Brothers,” Elladan repeated himself while next to him, Elrohir nodded in confirmation. 

“That’s not possible,” Eve muttered until she saw something she had not noticed earlier. 

In their flight from the precinct, she had not paid close attention and would have missed it now if it were not for the fact that Legolas was tilting his head back, draining the contents of the Coke bottle.  His long blond hair fell away from ears and Eve’s eyes widened in shock as she saw them for the first time.  She pulled away from Elladan and Elrohir, crossing the floor in seconds to reach Legolas.  

The elf stared at the woman approaching him quickly, his expression showing his puzzlement as she paused in front of him and suddenly extended her hands towards him. Suppressing the urge to pull away, Legolas allowed Eve to reach for his ear.  Her expression revealed her shock as her fingers glided over the soft skin, following the shape of the ear to its inevitable point.  She appeared a little startled when she finally did touch it, pulling her fingers back as if afraid.  However, the hesitation passed and she scrutinized his other ear just as closely.  When the same sight greeted her, Eve turned her attention to Elladan and Elrohir.  The brothers who now knew what she was about, decided they could not conceal the truth from her any longer and brushed the hair from around their ears and confirmed her suspicions.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, “you’re Vulcans.”

 ************\r\n\r\n

 
”I think we should not have revealed ourselves so soon,” Elladan remarked as they stared concerned at Eve who was sitting on her sofa pouring herself a very tall glass of what was almost certainly some strong spirit.  

“We did not show ourselves,” Elrohir stared at Legolas, “someone who shall remain nameless within our company chose a most inopportune time to indulge his sudden addiction to a bottled drink.”

“I was thirsty!” Legolas protested as he guiltily put down the bottle that was responsible for their present situation. “Besides, I do not believe it is fair to hide from her what we are, considering the fact that we owe her our freedom.”

“She appears rather shaken by what she has learnt though,” Elladan said looking upon his sister’s reincarnation with worry. Even though she was human, Elladan could not see the woman before him as anything but his beloved sister,  Arwen Evenstar.  It surprised him how easily old habits returned, even after so many years of being without her in his life.  The natural inclination to protect his younger sister was still as strong as ever and even though Eve had difficulty believing that they were family, Elladan did not.  

“I doubt the race of men even know what we are,” Elrohir retorted as he saw Eve raise the glass to her lips and drain the contents with the efficiency of a Gondorian drunkard. 

“I wish she could speak,” Legolas sighed. “She could help us find Mithrandir if only she understood a word we were saying.”

“We are simply going to have to learn,” Elladan retorted. “The speech of men was always simple, I do not think it will be all that difficult to learn.  After all, we taught them to speak.”

 Legolas gave Elladan a look and remarked, “just as well since there was little we could teach them about humility.”

In the meantime, Eve had downed the glass of scotch she kept in the house for occasions like this, although in all truth, she could not remember the last time she had invited three men home who happened to have pointed ears. Men, she snorted, they weren’t men.  Okay, so they weren’t Vulcans either.  Vulcans did not get picked up off the coast of Bay Shore by the Coast Guard or carried weapons that were straight out of the Middle Ages. The closest definition she could reach about the origins of her guest were that they were elves and that made utterly no sense, she might as well be calling them fairies, although she was certain faeries came with wings. She did not see any wings on them so she decided that they had to the latter.   

She also decided her thoughts were rambling.  

Elves. What did she know about elves? Other than their origins in Teutonic mythology, very little. In high school, she had gone through a phase where the fanciful tales of world mythology had fascinated her. In Teutonic mythology, elves were servants of the Norse god Frey and lived in a place called Alfheim.  However the legends were vague and difficult to pin down to any one culture.  They appeared in  Celtic, Germanic, and Scandinavian myths. In the dark ages, Anglo-Saxon Christians in England looked upon elves as dangerous creatures capable of harming humans.  However, certain characteristic survived despite all the different accounts of the creatures and that was their luminous beauty and their pointed ears. 

”This is insane,” Eve started talking to herself. “I have elves in my house.  What next? Leprechauns?”

The three looked at her sympathetically, seeming to understand that she was rather overwhelmed by the discovery of what they were.  

“If you’re so supposed to be magical beings, how come you can’t understand a word I’m saying?” She demanded and was unsurprised when the trio stared at her blankly.  

Suddenly the phone rang and while this was not an occurrence that normally caused much panic in the McCaughley household, the ringing tone had the same effect upon her guests as the car engine revving unexpectedly.    All three appeared as if they might jump out of their skin and since they were now armed, immediately took a defensive posture with swords drawn and bows being loaded. 

”CALM DOWN!” Eve shouted, gesturing wildly as she hurried to the phone before it got smashed to pieces with the business end of a sword. 

“Hello!” She spoke into the receiver after snatching it off the hook with one hand while trying to convey to the trio that there was no danger. 

“Detective McCaughley?” A familiar voice responded.

Eve recognised the voice as belonging to junior detective Ken Harper, “Harper? Is that you?”

“Yes ma’am,” Harper’s voice responded politely. “You ask me to run a financial check on Richard Falstaff?”

“Oh yes,” Eve declared, realising that despite the bizarre events of her day, there was still the matter of the murder case she had been trying to solve.  “I remember. Did you find anything?”

“I sure did,” Harper replied. “I got a friend of mine to pull some strings and she got access to his bank records, the ones his wife and the government did not know about. It seems Mr Falstaff was making a salary in the six digits. Too much I think for a senior accountant.”

“I agree,” Eve nodded, ignoring the puzzled expressions on the faces before her at the conversation she was having with a  piece of plastic that was only a minute ago, making a dreadful sound.  “I think I need to go talk to Mr Malcolm again.  Thanks Harper, I’ll talk to you later.”

Eve hung up the phone, rather pleased that she finally had something tangible to prove that John Malcolm was lying to her.  For the moment however, she replaced the phone on its hook and returned to her immediate problem. 

“Okay, first things first, let’s put down the weapons” she placed her hand across Elladan’s own and lowered the sword in his hand to a less defensive posture.  The others followed suit soon after and Eve was about to relax when she took note of something else and approached Legolas. 

“Secondly,” she retorted intercepting the bottle of Coke he was reaching for, “stop drinking this stuff.  You’ll rot your teeth.”

 ************\r\n\r\n

This was a mistake and he knew it but Aaron could not stay away.

The rain was beating down relentlessly on the cemetery lawn, creating a sheathe of grey that seemed to turn the landscape into a watercolour of grey shades melting into each other.  Despite the weather, a sizeable gathering had appeared for Stuart Farmer’s funeral.  The space where he would be laid to rest forever was surrounded in a bloom of black umbrellas.  The mourners were both teachers and students who on this occasion shared mutual grief for their fallen friend.  The mood was sombre as the preacher performed the ritual of sending which was more for the benefit of those left behind then that of the dearly departed.  Aaron should have been there to deliver the eulogy but his absence had forced the duty upon the dean of the university. 

Aaron listened a good distance away, taking refuge behind a particularly large monument to some poor forgotten soul, allowing his tears to flow as he mourned privately for his best friend.  He wished he could join the others because he needed to feel the kinship with those who would miss Stuart as much as he.  Aaron honestly did not know how his life was going to be without Stuart and felt the pangs of guilt coursing through him, strengthen with an intensity that was almost back breaking.  This should not have happened, Aaron thought to himself.  Choices like this were forced upon people who mattered in the world, not a psychiatrist trying to do his job by helping a patient.

He felt the rain soak into his skin and the chill biting at the bone but he could not leave, not until the service was done.  It was the least he could do for Stuart since Aaron was the reason that the professor was dead.  When he had left Moses at the motel, the old man had questioned greatly his decision to go.  On some level, Aaron knew that Moses was right, that it was dangerous for him to be here.  However, he could not bring himself to be absent from Stuart’s funeral, especially when he was responsible for his best friend’s death  As a psychiatrist, he knew the folly of blaming oneself for things that were out of his control. Yet Aaron knew that he should have considered the consequences more before he refused Sandra Collin’s offer. 

Stop it, he told himself quite forcefully, he could not have foreseen the actions that would be taken for his refusal and now that he was aware of why Moses was wanted so badly by them, he knew that despite Stuart’s death, he did the right thing. After bringing Moses out of his hypnotic state, Aaron had ferried the old man into his car and fled the motel before anyone could discover what catastrophe had befallen the room. Although part of him wanted to believe that it was an isolated earthquake, that everything he had seen was just some seismic aberration, he knew that it was a lie.  Moses had made it happen. 

As a psychiatrist and a trained analyst, he thought he had seen everything but never once did he see a patient’s mood manifest into a physical force that could effect his environment. He knew what telekinesis was, beyond its portrayal in pop culture.  Although once considered nonsense, it was rapidly gaining some legitimacy because of the cases that could not be disproved. There were people who could bend spoons, set fire to things and shatter glass. Moses however had surpassed that and more.  He would have been a parapsychologists dream if Aaron could believe he was simply telekinetic, which the doctor did not.

Moses was something else and Aaron was starting to get the feeling that he was way over his head.

Wiping the water from his eyes, he continued to observe the proceedings and saw Stuart’s family and wished he could offer words of comfort.  What they must be thinking of him for his absence, Aaron thought grimly.  He knew he could not remain long either because if they were searching for him, then attending the funeral may not be something they could discount and if what Moses had said was true, then John Malcolm would never stop searching until he found them both.  Aaron started to consider the possibility that it may be necessary to leave the city.

Strangely enough the idea of abandoning Moses to Malcolm never crossed Aaron’s mind although he knew his life would be simpler if he did.  Moses kept calling him these different names, names Aaron knew were of people he trusted deeply. Where was this Strider? Was it even a person? Strider seemed like such an odd name but Moses had used it with such trust in his voice.  Perhaps if they found this Strider, they could learn what had happened to the old man and better yet, how to stop this despite the fact that Aaron was still fuzzy on what this was.

When the flotilla of umbrellas began to disperse, Aaron turned away from the funeral and made his way out of the cemetery using the worn pathway through the gravestones.  He had to get back to Moses and decide upon their next move.  He had a place upstate in the town of Goshen near Bear Mountain that he stayed at whenever he wanted to go fishing or get away from it all.  It was hardly luxurious but it was remote and functional enough to serve as a sanctuary while he decided what he was going to do about his present situation.

Rounding the corner of a particularly ornate headstone that came with angels perched on a dais with wings outstretched, Aaron froze as he ran straight into Sandra Collins and at least four men in dark suits.  His first impulse was to run but when he turned, he found that there were men behind him as well and whatever effort he made to escape would be futile.

“Doctor Stone, you are a difficult man to find,” Sandra Collins said with a sickening smile of triumph on her face. 

It was a smile Aaron was rather happy to wipe off her face with a hard right across her jaw.  Although he was not one to hit women, in fact he was not one to hit anybody, Aaron was not a sexist either and was willing to make an exception to the rule. The blow to her face was hard enough to send her reeling and swiftly prompted her entourage to set upon Aaron.  Fortunately, their very public arena made a protracted beating unwise so he only suffered a return punch to his face and a jab to the stomach that doubled him over in pain.

“Well, I suppose we can dispense with the pleasantries. Take him to the car,” Sandra declared after straightening herself up and wiping the blood from her torn lip. She appeared not at all angry about being struck but rather as if it was business as usual.  Her indifference was more unnerving than her ability to have his friends killed, Aaron thought. 

“I won’t give you anything,” Aaron hissed.

“You will,” she smiled cruelly. “Before the night is over. You will.”

 ************\r\n\r\n

Eve drove the Malcolm Building, determined to get some kind of answer from John Malcolm.  Armed with the paperwork she picked up from Harper earlier today, Eve was determined to confront Malcolm in his lie and get the truth about what Falstaff did for him.  While she was uncertain of the extent of Malcolm’s complicity in Richard Falstaff’s death, she did not know the man was lying to her and was taking great pains to hide it.  How he reacted to being caught out in a lie was going to be of great assistance to her.  

In the meantime, Eve had contacted INS and informed they dutifully that the three prisoners had managed to escape whilst on route to the INS offices. Although she suspected she would suffer some consequences for this, it was a good deal better than telling INS that she had them stashed at her house.  Considering the bizarre report already filed by the Coast Guard, it did not surprise her when INS said they would look into this themselves and did not admonish her too badly for it.  Apparently the three men were making it a habit of escaping the clutches of government officials since their arrival in the United States.

Still she was glad to get out of the house.  There was only so much of naming everything she could handle before she was inspired to find her gun. Although truth be known, they learnt surprisingly quickly and had extended their vocabulary in a matter of hours to more than a dozen words.  There was a part of her brain that refused to accept that they could be elves even if their actions proved it more effectively than their ears.  Everything fascinated them, from her clock radio to the contents of  the refrigerator.  She did not know how late she stayed up trying to explain things with hand signals. In the end, she gave up and turned on the television set, giving them a quick instruction on how to work the remote. 

She was unsurprised to find them still in front of the thing when she woke up the next morning.

Elladan and Elrohir were still convinced they were family though Eve could not even begin to imagine how that could be. Unfortunately, she could not deny the feelings of familial bond she had for the duo and she could not explain in any better than she could explain the need to rescue them from a jail cell. In any case, she decided to concentrate on the more conventional problem of Richard Falstaff’s murder.

She parked her car across the parking lot entry to the monolith, trying to decide what was the best way to approach the man.  The Monolith disappeared into the clouds relatively quickly when she looked through the windshield at the imposing structure. The weather had made the cumulous clouds heavy and the fog of white and grey mist obscured the top of the building.  The rain was beating down heavily on the canvas of the T Bird’s roof.  It provided a comfortable buffer from the odd sensations she was feeling of late, particularly when she was in any kind of proximity to this building. 

She was about to make a move when suddenly, she saw a long black limousine driving into the ramp leading to the parking lot beneath the Monolith.  If that was Malcolm, it would make things much simpler than having to confront him in his office and honestly, she would prefer to avoid any situation that required her getting into the elevator.  Putting the T-Bird into gear, she followed the car in, staying a suitable distance to ensure that Malcolm did not see her so that he could try and avoid her. 

The parking lot was literally empty at this time of the day with most of the staff having left for the evening.  She parked first so that the limo driver would be too concerned with fitting the stretched vehicle into the reserve parking spot to notice her.  Eve kept her eye on where the limo had gone and proceeded towards it once she had the T Bird squared away for the duration.  As she walked across the floor of car park, she could hear the limousine’s engines cutting out.  

“Get your hands off me!” She heard the angry voice of a man shout in protest. 

The parking lot’s cavernous structure ensured his voice echoed so Eve heard clearly the scuffle that followed shortly after and the sound of fists slapping flesh.  Immediately, she went for her gun and her approach took on altogether different advance. Her movements became stealthy and she heard more voices attempting to contain the situation. It did not take long for the limo and its occupants to come into sight. 

She recognised Sandra Collins and the suits the woman had working for her. She had seen these men when she was making her investigation in the building.  The only person she did not recognise was a tall and handsome dark haired man dressed in jeans and a sleeved t-shirt who was clearly unhappy to be there.  The suits were holding onto him tight and she saw traces of blood on his lip.  It took Eve but a split second to interpret what was going on and another a second to act. She wanted to do so while they were out in the open like this when she had some chance of preventing harm from befalling their hostage.

 ************\r\n\r\n

“Restrain him,” Sandra said sharply as Aaron tried to make another effort to break free. 

The goon holding him produced a gun and held it to his head.  The man did not speak but the click of the gun hammer was capable of conveying volumes regarding Aaron’s continued existence if he struggled any further.

“Doctor Stone,” Sandra came up to him and said with a cold smile, “we are doing this with or without cooperation. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll tell us what we need to know and we’ll avoid the unpleasantness of more persuasive methods. However, you are not leaving until you tell us where your patient is.”

“Go to hell,” Aaron spat in her face.

“Bastard!” She lashed out and hit him across the face. 

Aaron shook of the blow easily and glared at her with defiance. “I know what Malcolm is,” he said staring her dead in the eyes, “I know that he is the same person, that he changes bodies every so often.  That’s why you want Moses isn’t it? Because he knows.”

Sandra’s indifferent mask shook slightly at the revelation and she hit him again, this time with more venom and rage. “You had a chance to come out of this alive Doctor,” she retorted, her voice became low and menacing.  “You should have taken it.  It does not matter what you tell us now, you are not going to tell anyone about Mr. Malcolm.”

“I didn’t know anything,” Aaron returned swiftly. “I thought Moses was insane but you proved it. You proved he was right. Malcolm is some kind of freak!”

“Kill him!” Sandra fairly roared. “He is of no use to us and too much of a liability!” 

“Halt!” A new voice came into the mix and brought a new urgency to the situation. “NYPD!” 

All their eyes were fixed upon a woman approaching them slowly with a gun pointed in their direction.  Although she had identified herself as a policewoman, she was not wearing the uniform, rather clad in a long dark coat with dark jeans and a crisp untucked white shirt. The badge clipped onto her belt clearly indicated the shield of a New York Police officer.  He had seen enough of them in the psychiatric ward to know the difference.  Aaron never thought he could be so grateful to see anyone in his life.

“Officer McCaughley,” Sandra turned to his saviour. “You have the worst timing. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll walk away from this.”

“Sir,” the woman ignored Sandra and spoke directly to the gunmen holding Aaron hostage, “let the man go.”

“Or what?” Sandra asked her defiantly.

“Or I’ll be forced to take measures to protect him,” she replied shortly

“I don’t think you will,” Sandra said smugly.

The policewoman did not answer and promptly pulled the trigger.

The bullet was so close, Aaron heard it whiz past his ear.  Through the ringing in his eardrums, he heard the groan of the man holding him, shortly followed by the slacking of his grip.  Aaron broke free and saw him on the floor, clutching the bloody wound near his shoulder.  Aaron was impressed by her marksmanship. Her shot was intended to sever the nerves controlling the motor reflexes of the hand holding the gun.  

No sooner than she had fired, she had re-targeted and this time her gun was aimed squarely at Sandra Collins.  

“Sir, walk towards me,” she ordered and Aaron was not about to argue. He took cautious steps to the lovely brunette, aware that the situation was poised on a knife’s edge. 

This could still get bloody.

 ************\r\n\r\n

Eve could tell that she had stumbled upon something important or more specifically someone important. Sandra had been angry enough to order him shot right in the middle of a parking lot.  Granted, this was still the premises of Malcolm’s private fortress but it was a risk nonetheless.  Eve had to question this man and find out what he knew which she had a feeling was about more than just about Richard Falstaff’s death.   Reaching into her pockets, she pulled out her car keys as he approached, aware that Sandra’s men were most likely armed and the only reason they had not produced their weapons yet was because she was aiming her gun at their boss.  Unfortunately, she had a feeling the indecision would not last. 

“There’s a blue T Bird parked back there,” Eve said to the man as he approached her. “Get in and start the engine.” She tossed him the keys with one hand while the other was still fixed  on Sandra.

He grabbed it with one and nodded mutely before asking, “what about you?”

“Just get going!” she barked and shifted her gaze from Sandra long enough to add, “NOW!” 

Unfortunately, it was a distraction she could not afford because no sooner than she took her eyes off Sandra, the other men went for their guns and they were not held back by any desire to keep the situation from escalating in a gun fight.

The first shot slammed into the column behind her and Eve opened fire, directing her shots at Sandra who went running for cover behind the limousine. Taking advantage of their desire not to shoot the woman in the exchange of gunfire, the gunmen paused long enough to give Eve the opening she needed to run.

“Come on!” She shouted at her new companion who was taking cover, reluctant to leave her but uncertain of what to do either.  She admired his loyalty if not his sense. 

Running as fast as they could with Malcolm’s men soon falling into pursuit, Eve took the lead as she hurried to her car.  She probably should have called for back up but she did not dream that she would be entering such a volatile situation when she drove into the parking lot.  Reaching the car, she could hear the revving of engines starting from elsewhere in the structure, telling Eve that if their pursuers did not catch up to them on foot, they would do so by car. 

“You drive!” Eve ordered when they reached the vehicle.

“Are you sure?” He looked at her puzzled. 

“Do you want to be the one to shoot?” She asked sharply.

“I’ll drive,” he retorted and proceeded to unlock the doors.  Sliding into the driver’s seat of the car, he opened her door before sliding the key into the ignition.  

Eve promptly jumped into the passenger seat, feeling a little strange to see someone else driving her car but the situation warranted it.  He seemed to know what he was doing though and the engine came alive as she saw three of Sandra’s men running towards them, all armed. 

“Get us out of here now!” She ordered as she saw them raise their gun to fire.

“What do you think I’m doing!” He shouted as he slammed his foot against the accelerator and the car lunged forward, a tonne of good old-fashioned American steel roaring toward their pursuers with more speed than he could control. One of them flew towards the windshield, a making a blunt thud against the smooth finish of metal and causing Eve to flinch at the damage to her bodywork. He clung there as the T Bird swung around in a tight circle, prying loose his grip and sent him tumbling to the concrete floor. 

A gunshot shattered the back window of the car and Eve cursed loudly before let off another series of shots from her automatic.  She was not aiming to kill but directed her bullets close enough to make the two men retreat in caution.  In the meantime, the T Bird was surging up the sharp incline of the car park ramp, taking them to the main street.   However, Eve could see the black limousine screeching through the underground structure in pursuit. 

“Where are we going?” He asked.

“Police station would be a good bet right now,” she replied as she reached across to the glove box.  

“Thank Christ,” he muttered under his breath. “If you hadn’t come along, I don’t think I was going to get out there alive!”

“Who the hell are you anyway?” Eve asked as she grabbed the box of shells she kept there and reloaded her gun. She had an idea that she would be needing the extra ammunition. 

“Aaron Stone,” he answered as the car made a bumpy return to the main street. “I’m a doctor.”

“What did you overcharge them or something?” She asked not really thinking because her mind was more firmly focussed on the limousine that was following them and would most likely be accompanied by other faster moving vehicles depending on how determined they were to catch up. 

“I’m a psychiatrist,” Aaron replied as he tried to remember where the nearest police station was from here.   “They want a patient of mine.”

“Why?” She glanced at him briefly before her eyes moved to the rear view mirror. 

Aaron paused, unwilling to tell her the truth because she would think he was insane.  Fortunately, he did not have to because the limousine behind them was catching up and through the glare of headlights, he could see the figure half hanging out of its window had a gun that looked too much like an Uzi.  

“Get your head down!” Eve shouted as the shooter opened fire.  A hail of bullets shattered the back windscreen and prompted Aaron to press the accelerator down even further, forcing the T Bird to tear through the streets like a bat out of hell. 

The limousine sped up to match their speed but could not keep up.  However, Eve caught sight of two other vehicles forging ahead with just as much determination and saw knew the cars chasing them were no longer just one but three.  The T Bird was racing through the rainy streets, barely avoiding collision with other cars and blaring its horn in an effort to warn pedestrians from the street who might unwittingly wander into the path of the chase.  Eve leaned out of her window and fired at the limousine that was still the nearest vehicle behind them.  She aimed low, hoping to hit the crankcase or perhaps if she was lucky, the tires.

 “Shoot the tires!” Aaron called out as he tried to see through the shattered windshield before him. 

“What the hell do you I’m doing?” Eve barked in exasperation. “Its not like on TV you know!” 

“Sorry!” Aaron apologised as he swerved into another lane to avoid slowing down. 

Eve did not have time to accept his apology for she was pulling herself into the compartment again, avoiding the bullets being fired in her direction.  She checked her ammunition and prayed that she would have enough bullets to fend off their attacker because whatever it was that Doctor Stone knew about Malcolm Industries, it was perfectly clear to her now that they were willing to kill both of them for it.


Chapter 6 - Fail Safe

A short scream tore through his ears as a woman and her boyfriend back onto the shoulder of the road when they saw the headlights of the T Bird bearing down on them with through the rain.  Aaron smashed his fist against the horn, hoping that the sound alone would be enough to warn them away to safety.  It was difficult to see the road ahead when his head was bent low against the steering wheel in an effort to avoid being hit by the hail of bullets that was being fired at them from the limousine pursuing them with such relentless desire.

His new companion was managing to keep her calm a good deal better than he was and he could not help watch in fascination as her deft hands moved over her police issue handgun, sliding another magazine into the self loading weapon.  Even though she had not said it, he could tell that she was beginning to get worried. The cache of ammunition in her glove box was starting to run low and they were nowhere close to ridding themselves of their pursuers.  When she leaned out the window of car to fire off more shots, Aaron instinctively pulled the car from the shoulder of the road to ensure she was clear of any parked cars.

His eyes alternated from the road and from the woman who had saved his life.  Despite himself and their situation, Aaron could not help but feel a little awed by her. She was in his opinion one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.  It was not the kind of beauty enjoyed by the supermodel set but something that conveyed elegance and grace, even when she was half hanging out of a car, firing her weapon with deadly accuracy. Aaron hoped that they would survive long enough for him to know her better because quite frankly, she could be the one person he could confide in about what was happening to him.

They were fast running out of road and Aaron wished he knew where the local precinct was.  Keeping ahead of their pursuers had not left him much time to navigate, he had been racing through the streets, trying to avoid the bullets and not given much thought to where they were going. He did not know this part of town and was pushing the T Bird to its very limits just trying to keep out of reach of the bullets that had shattered just about every window in the car. 

Aaron swung the car around as they came to an intersection, the speed of it spinning the back section out of control on the slick tar that it slammed into a parked van and left a sizeable dent as the T Bird shuddered from the impact. The vehicle slowed down just enough for Aaron to jam his foot on the accelerator, spinning the wheels enough to send a spray of water as it surged ahead.  The van’s alarms screamed in accusation as the T Bird pulled away and continued up the street. They were fast leaving the commercial district behind and entering a heavy industrialized area with dark empty buildings. 

Eve knew she had to narrow the odds against them.  She had littered the hood of the car with enough bullet holes to ensure the limousine would have trouble maintaining the chase, however she had not stopped it in its tracks. She had been trying to play it safe, to avoid the loss of life if she could but it was becoming obvious that such a desire was impossible.  She knew how well she could shoot and though the constant turns and shuddering was making it difficult to aim, she knew it was not impossible. 

The gunmen who was firing at them was reloading and Eve took the opportunity to end the threat of him once and for all.  Taking aim with deep concentration, she squeezed the trigger and released a series of rapid shots with a specific target in mind.  The bullets smashed through the grill, puncturing the headlight, shattering the headlight before meeting its mark.  The tire exploded with a loud expulsion of gas.  Eve saw the front of the car dip sharply to one side followed by the sharp turn the vehicle made as it spun out of control. It swerved across the street, causing the other two cars to break sharply as the limousine cut across in front of them. The limousine slammed into a wall, forcing the hood to buckle from the impact as the body crumpled behind it. 

The second car had managed to clear the disaster and keep behind them but the one behind it had slammed into the limousines tail as it swerved in front of it before the spectacular impact. The grey Ford veered sharply to avoid the collision but failed to do so. The force of the steel against steel lifted it off the wet road and lifted it onto one wheel before the momentum of its speed toppled it over.  The occupants of the only car capable of maintaining the pursuit did not pause to check on their comrades, surging through the streets with more determination to reach the T Bird.

“Nice shooting,” Aaron, declared as he saw the crash through his side mirror.

“We’re not out of trouble yet,” Eve declared as she dropped into her seat once again and checked the remaining shells in the magazine of her gun.  The grim expression on her face told Aaron immediately that her supply of ammunition was exhausted. 

“You don’t have any more?” He looked at her.

“No,” she shook her head. “I think I’ve got about five shots left. It’s not going to be enough.”

Aaron noticed that they reassuring lights of a populated area had disappeared from around them and  in its place were darkened factories that were devoid of life. The streets were empty and the only people out at this time of night in this place, were not likely anyone either of them would like to meet. It was also the perfect place to dispose of a doctor and a policewoman if the occupants of the car caught up with them. As it was the roads were empty except for their pursuers. It would be hard to lose them when the headlights were a dead giveaway. 

“Turn here!” Eve ordered suddenly. 

Without thinking twice, Aaron swung the wheel around, forcing the T Bird through the entryway of an abandoned textile factory. The wheels screeched despite the slickness of the road and as they tumbled into the driveway, Eve reached over and switched off the headlights.

“What are you doing?” He asked, panicking when the road before him became pitch black.

“We got to lose them,” she declared. “Just slow down and see if you can hide us behind the building.”

“You think that will work?” Aaron asked, feeling very ineffectual, not to mention completely out of his depth. However he obeyed her request and took his foot off the accelerator, slowly down considerably as the T Bird rolled forward in complete darkness. Aaron strained to see the road ahead, hoping he did not drive the car into a wall.  Fortunately, he managed to navigate through the darkness enough to disappear behind the far side of the building.  Once concealed in the shadows, Aaron turned off the engines and they lapsed into silence.

“I hope so,” she whispered softly and through the sinister darkness, he could see that despite her self assured manner through all this, she was just as anxious as he. 

“For what its worth, thank you for saving my life,” Aaron said gratefully. 

“I may have just delayed the inevitable,” she replied, “they could and probably will find us.”

“I know,” Aaron replied, “I just wanted to thank you in case I didn’t get the chance later, Officer McCaughley was it?”

“Yeah,” she nodded with a little smile, “Eve McCaughley.”

“If we get out of this, I’ve going to have one hell of a story to tell you,” Aaron replied, his eyes watching the darkness. They could not hear the sound of the pursuing vehicle but that did not mean that it was not out there somewhere.  “Its pretty crazy though.”

She gave him a look and retorted with a slight laugh. “After the week I’ve been having, crazy is a matter of perspective.”

Suddenly, they heard the rumble of another car and fell silent though it was likely they could be heard through the low drone of engines. Aaron watched the smaller car rumble past them like a shark searching prey in the dark waters of the sea.  He wondered if Sandra Collins inside it, Sandra who was ready to shoot him without giving it a second thought, just as easily as she had Sturt killed.  In a matter of days, she and Malcolm Industries had turned his world upside down because he would not cooperate with their sinister intentions. 

For so long, his world had been easy and comfortable. Reality and fantasy were too strictly delineated axioms, there was nothing in between.  As impossible as it sounded to him still, John Malcolm was not human.  He may be wearing human skin but he certainly was now and through the mystique of the supposedly dynastic lineage of the Malcolms, he had perpetuate a mechanism to acquire a new body and retain the wealth of his previous life  It was obscene and what was worse, it was true. Moses knew this and somehow, Malcolm had done something so terrible to the old man that it had buried his memories so deep it took hypnosis to surface it.

If they were to fall into the hands of the men in the car searching for them, Aaron knew that they would find someway to extract Moses’ location from him.  Aaron was not going to let them hurt him any more, not when he had seen first hand, the power the old man possessed.  He was not going to let them harm this woman either who had placed her life in jeopardy even though she nothing about him. Every now and then, when he turned to her, there was split second when he thought he knew her.  As he sat here with her in the darkness, fearing for their lives, he was struck with this feeling that it had always been this way for them. She did not feel like someone he had just met before and Aaron could not begin to say how much that unsettled him.  

“I’m not going to let them hurt you,” he said suddenly, his eyes fixed ahead, an insane plan forming in his head. 

Eve was suddenly overcome by a feeling of déjŕ vu and turned to him, They had done this before.  She did not know how she knew that but Eve felt it,   “they haven’t found us yet.”

“They will,” he replied. “They won’t stop until they do.  They killed Stuart just because I wouldn’t do what they wanted, because I would give them Moses.”

Hearing someone else being killed caught Eve’s undivided interest.  “Who is Stuart?”

“My friend,” Aaron said softly. “They wanted me to turn over Moses and when I wouldn’t, they killed him just to show me what would happen if I didn’t cooperate.”

Eve wanted to ask him more questions but the sadness in his eyes made her pause because her was touched by his sorrow.  “Don’t blame yourself for that, it wasn’t your fault. You should never blame yourself for murderers doing what they do.”

He met her gaze and said firmly, “I won’t let them harm you Eve, I won’t.” 

With that, he switched on the engine and produced the low drone from the T Bird’s engines that would surely bring their captors towards them.

“What are you doing?”  She demanded.

“Getting rid of these bastards,” Aaron said with no small amount of venom.

It was less than a few seconds when he saw the body of the other car coming down the lane in front of them.  Aaron waited until the length of the vehicle was almost across the hood of the T Bird when he jammed his foot on the accelerator, causing a sharp screech of tires before the car lunged forward at top speed.  The T Bird ploughed into the side of the smaller car with such force that it drove the vehicle against the nearby wall.  Aaron heard Eve let out a short cry upon impact but he was too busy changing gears as the newer model car, made with none of the sturdiness of an early model T Bird was crushed against concrete.  

The T Bird reversed a short distance after the initial collision before Aaron pushed his foot down on the pedal again and sent it smashing into the side of the battered vehicle. The smaller car pressed closer against the concrete wall, until bits of cement shook loose.  Debris of glass and mortar littered the buckling hood of the T Bird. 

“Hey!” Eve had recovered her senses enough to see that the front end of her car was being smashed into oblivion. She could picture every dent that was being inflicted upon the car as Aaron put the vehicle into reverse and prepared for another assault.

“Now would be a good time for those tires!” he declared as the engines revved as the T Bird continued forward at ramming speed.

Eve shook the astonishment and horror of his solution to their predicament and leaned out the window after Aaron had created another conclave-sized dent in the body of the car.  The doors of the sedan were bent inward now and she doubted that it was even capable of pursuing them any longer. Still it was better to be safe than sorry as she took aim of the rear tires and fired.  Three bullets escaped her gun in quick succession, rising over the noise of engines heaving at the assault and revving in its retreat. The back tyres ruptured with the first bullet, expelling gases as it back of the car sunk close to the ground as the rubber was reduced to tatters.

“If you’re done destroying my car, can we please get out of here?” Eve demanded as she eased back into hear seat.

“Anything you say officer,” he grinned and directed the car away from the wreckage of the pursuing vehicle.  Despite the damage to the T Bird, the car was remained in good shape as Aaron sped away from the scene leaving a trail of debris behind them that consisted of pieces of grill and fragments of headlight.
 
“Where to?” Aaron asked as they left the enemy behind them and drove back to town.

“My place,” Eve replied, letting out a sigh of relief that they had escaped, despite the damage done to her car to achieve it.  “You’re not the only one with a crazy story to tell.”

 ************\r\n\r\n


Sandra Collins stood before John Malcolm and felt his gaze burning into the skin.

She had been his associate long enough to know that he could make that a reality if he wished it.  She had been in the limousine when it crashed and though she suffered no significant injuries, being unable to take part in the rest of the search had not impressed her employer when he learnt that the doctor had escaped.   However, telling Malcolm that she had been unable to capture the doctor was nothing in comparison to telling him that it appeared Doctor Stone had managed to learn something of what his patient had buried inside of him for so long.

“So you are telling me that he is now with Detective McCaughley and it is most likely that he’s told her what he knows?” Malcolm asked her as he glared at her from across his desk.

“Yes,” Sandra nodded slowly, able to see the fury in his eyes despite his outward calm.  “It will not take long to find them. We are finding out where Detective McCaughley lives even as we speak.  We will have our people there within the hour.”

“I trust you will dispose of him a good deal better than you disposed of Falstaff?” Malcolm retorted caustically.

“That was a mistake,” Sandra replied quickly, unable to shake the anxiety from her voice.  Malcolm did not take failure lightly and while he might not kill her, she had endured his punishments throughout her service to him. It was not an ordeal she particularly enjoyed since Mr. Malcolm could be quite creative in how he rewarded those who had earned his anger. 

“You seem to make many of them lately,” Malcolm replied. “Richard was my financial adviser and while I have no interest in your sexual proclivities, I do object when you tell him more than you should while you are in throes of passion during your tawdry affair.”

Sandra shuddered as she remembered the punishment for that mistake.  She closed her eyes and forced away images of the spiders he had set loose upon her bare skin when she was pinned to a floor somewhere in the Monolith. She had been held down with shackles as the swarm of spiders were released over her naked body. She had remained frozen, unable to scream because she was terrified they would crawl into her mouth.  She clamped her eyes shut as she felt those spindly legs covering every inch of her.  

“I have paid for that mistake,” she swallowed thickly, meeting his gaze once she had composed herself. 

“You paid for the error, the mistake lives on,” Malcolm replied. “I found you because I know your soul. You served me and mine once and you had certain successes, though I am sure you remember little of it. However, I am not as forgiving or as weak as my servant was.  Disappoint me, defy me and worst of all, challenge me and I will see you burn in a hell that will make Dante’s depiction of it positively pleasant.”

“Yes Sir,” Sandra nodded and turned on her heels to leave when Malcolm stopped her in her tracks. 

“There is one other thing,” he said before she could leave. “Detective McCaughley. I want her alive.”

Sandra paused and looked up at Malcolm in confusion, “alive Sir?” 

“Yes,” he nodded, “alive.”

“I don’t understand,” she met his gaze with growing puzzlement, “Detective McCaughley is determined to connect Richard’s death to us.  She should be eliminated.”

“Thanks to your incompetence in this matter, it may be necessary for me to vacate this body far sooner than I would like,” Malcolm stared at her. “If that becomes necessary, I will need a receptacle to host my rebirth. Detective McCaughley will furnish that need most effectively, so you will bring her to me alive. Is that clear?”

“Yes, perfectly,” Sandra nodded mutely, knowing better than to debate the issue with him.  No doubt once his seed was firmly planted within her body,  the policewoman’s lifespan would last just long enough for her to deliver his child.

After all, that was how it had been with all of the others.

 ************\r\n\r\n

Eve did not know whether or not it was sensible bringing Aaron back home with her but as he told his story on the way back to the house, Eve did not see if she had much choice. If he were right then Malcolm’s men would be on their way.  Although she had trouble believing anything that he was saying about Malcolm being some kind of creature that perpetuated himself with a new body every generation or so, she also had to remember that her houseguests at present were three elves. It was hard to take the sanity high ground under such circumstances.

Eve had explained her situation as best she could and was rather pleased when following that revelation, Aaron did not think her insane or delusional.  He himself had a incredible story to tell and though she had no idea how the separate pieces of their puzzle fit, it was good to know that she was not alone in bizarre situation they found themselves embroiled. While he did not state empathically that he believed the men in her house were elves, he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.  Considering what he had told her about his patient, it appeared that they were both in the company of some rather peculiar individuals of late.  

After they had left John Malcolm’s people behind, Eve had a better opportunity to study Aaron Stone. He was not what she would have expected from a psychiatrist and for some reason she kept thinking that he was one of those doctors who lived in trailers outside their hospital, like Gregory Harrison out of Trapper John MD.  She did not know many doctors who ran around with jeans and sneakers and looked like an adult that never really left college.  However, there was a strength to him that could not be denied and he exuded it without even suspecting its existence.  When he said that he would let nothing harm her, Eve had known with all her heart that he meant it and that made her feel terribly safe. 

For a woman who was accustomed to taking care of herself, who saw this doctor get twitchy every time she loaded her gun during their adventure this evening, Eve could not understand why this was so.  If anything, he needed protecting more than she did.

“Here’s the plan,” Eve stated as they walked through the door. “I’ll get my guests and we’ll go pick up your patient and head out of the city. You said you got a place upstate?”

“Yeah,” Aaron nodded, looking around Eve’s home and was pleasantly surprised by how warm and comfortable it looked.  It was the house for a family not a single woman who had very little time for a social life he was certain. “It on a small plot of land that I lease from an old patient of mine. He used to go fishing there all the time but turned the place over to me when he and the wife moved to Miami. Its in the mountains, in a town called Goshen near Bear Mountain.”

“Sounds good to me.  We need to stay out of sight while we figure out what to do,” Eve declared as she stepped into the front door corridor of the house.

“Hello!” Eve called out  to give the trio some warning of her arrival, redundant as it was.  

If there was one thing she had learnt about them since their entry into her life, it was the fact that they could hear a pin drop from a hundred miles away.   She guessed they were in front of the TV since that had been their best source of information since becoming her houseguests.  She hoped they did not absorb too many talk shows.  Somehow the contamination of their psyche by Jerry Springer was a terrifying concept. 

Both Aaron and Eve jumped when they heard a glass shattering on the floor as they walked into the living room. Elladan and Elrohir had been in front of the television set as expected but had stood up abruptly with their entrance into the room.  Legolas who was coming out of the kitchen had dropped his glass and was standing before them with nothing less than astonishment on his faces.  Eve was suddenly reminded of how they  had reacted to seeing her for the first time and realised that they were now staring at Aaron in the same way.  However, Legolas was staring at Aaron so hard that she could almost see tears in his eyes. 

Elladan and Elrohir were not so restrained and the twins crossed the floor exuberantly before Elladan swept  a very confused Aaron into his arms to deliver a warm embrace, while Elrohir patted him on the back as if they were long lost friends. 

“They’re very friendly,” Aaron stammered as he looked past Elladan’s shoulder at Eve.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Eve muttered with puzzlement. For some reason the reunion between these elves that purported to being her brothers and the psychiatrist felt strangely familiar, though like the rest of this whole bizarre episode, Eve was unable to explain it either.

“Elladan?” She looked at the elf for an explanation. 

“Estel,” he grinned at Eve as if that explained everything, still beaming happily at Aaron at the same time.  “Estel! Aragorn!” 

“No,” Aaron shook his head as he was similarly embraced by Elrohir and wished they would stop that.  In this day and age it was very disconcerting to be hugged so warmly by two men with long hair who looked that pretty,  “Aaron,” he said firmly.

“Aaron, Aragorn,” Elrohir declared, unwilling to accept anything different because it was he knew who was standing before him and it made perfect sense.  If the Evenstar lived in this time, why was it not possible for Aragorn to do as well?  There was a certain harmony to Aragorn and Arwen sharing the same time because their souls were so interconnected that it was impossible that even thousands of years could separate them.    

“They did that to me too,” Eve explained to Aaron with growing confusion. “I have no idea what language they’re speaking but they seem to think that I was someone called Undomiel and their sister.”

Something sparked in his mind at that moment, something that he had even not considered until this instant when Eve had mentioned the fact that these elves believed her to be someone else.  What was it that Moses kept calling him?  

“Strider,” Aaron said experimentally.

The blond elf that remained at a distance but was more overwhelmed than the other two reacted sharply to the word. Of the three, it was Legolas had not said anything until now.  The expression on the elf’s face as he said the word ‘Strider’ was one of recognition and hope.  Suddenly the doctor’s heart was pounding because he knew he was the brink of something, something that would turn his world even more inside out than it already was.  Ever since he had met Moses, Aaron felt himself tumbling forward through some darkened chasm, coming to this singularity of time where finally everything would come together and make sense.  

“You,” Legolas tried the word on for size having picked up enough in the last day to come away with that much at least,  “you, Strider,” he tapped Aaron’s chest. 

Legolas could scarcely contain the emotion inside of him as he regarded his dearest friend.  He had been the last of the Fellowship to leave the shores of Middle earth because of his deep friendship with the King of Gondor. When Aragorn had passed away into death, his links to Middle Earth had been severed.  After watching so many friends grow old and die including his wife, seeing Aragorn’s life end had been the final straw for Legolas. He left Middle earth while the Reunified Kingdom was still in mourning for the great king.  Now Legolas found himself gawking at the man who was Aragorn born in this day and age.  No matter how blankly he stared at Legolas, the elf would believe nothing else. 

This was his friend even if he did not know it. 

“No,” Aaron shook his head in denial to Legolas’ belief,  “I’m Aaron.”

“You,” Legolas repeated the gesture and spoke with more insistence, “Strider, Aragorn Elessar, Estel, Aaron.”

Aaron knew what he was trying to say despite his inability to speak English.  Moses had told Aaron during their session that Strider was what he was called before anything else.  These elves recognised him.  The minute they had laid eyes on him, Aaron had seen it.  They knew him. Just as they had known Eve.  It took Aaron a fraction of a second to remember that Strider was not the only thing that Moses had called him. During their first session, Moses had called him by another name, a name that he had forced to ask Stuart to explain.  With a pang of grief, Aaron realised that it was the last conversation he and Stuart would ever have.  However, now he knew he had to say it. He was compelled to. Saying it would tell him without a shadow of a doubt.  

“Thorongil,” he almost whispered but the elf heard nonetheless. 

“Yes,” Legolas nodded slowly and placed a hand on Aaron’s chest, “Thorongil, you.”

 “Who the hell is Thorongil?” Eve asked, unable to comprehend what was going on.  She had taught the elves a few words since their stay in her home, mostly a few basic words to make things simpler but now they were using to reveal a truth that was sending Aaron into a deeper state of shock.

“I think I am,” Aaron finally allowed himself to say it. “Or I was, I don’t know. None of this makes sense.”

“Look,” Eve decided that these questions could wait for now because they did not have time for it.  The strange circumstances that allowed the elves to know Aaron for this Strider person, did not change the fact that John Malcolm’s people would be coming for them and soon.  “We can deal with this later, right now we have to leave.”

“Yeah,” Aaron nodded, deciding she was right.  “We have to get to Moses because maybe if they know me, they might know him too.”
 ************\r\n\r\n

Within twenty minutes, they were speeding away from Eve’s home with no idea how much time would lapse before Malcolm’s men descended upon her home like a plague of locusts. While Aaron emptied out whatever provisions they would need from her kitchen in terms of food and supplies, Eve made the elves help her load a small non descript chest into the back of her car.  Although she did not tell them what was within in, she successfully conveyed to them that they were not leaving the city without the leather box, secured with a huge padlock.  After their encounter with Malcolm’s goons today, Eve had learnt one thing for certain.  They were extremely well armed and thus she intended to be as well.

Once they were supplied, the five swiftly left the house and drove towards the Best Western motel where Aaron had hidden Moses discreetly.  Aaron was glad to get back to the old man because he had been out of touch with Moses since this afternoon when he had left to unwisely attend Stuart’s funeral.  There were too many unsettling questions in Aaron’s head that he did not wish to deal with at the moment.  Moses had said so many times that he trusted Aaron and until now, it was because Aaron believed that it was trust inspired of a sick man for his doctor.  The possibility never even occurred to Aaron that there might be another reason, one so unbelievable that Aaron could not believe it until now.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Eve asked Aaron as they went to his motel room.

“Look,” Aaron let out a deep breath and met her gaze, “I know this whole thing is crazy but I’ve seen things in the last twenty four hours that’s convinced me that everything about the world is not as black and white as we think.  I know what I feel and I know I’m not insane. It is hard to believe what’s happening to both of us but no more insane than you thinking these guys are elves and that they know us both, somehow. Can you honestly say that you believe that all this is a hoax?”

Eve felt silent, glancing at Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas who did not understand her language but were capable of reaching her on a level that Eve never thought possible. In her lifetime, she had seen the very depths of human ugliness and deception. She knew how to recognise liars and danger because it was a necessity. In the last two days of her life, everything she knew had been challenged with no good explanation for any of it.  Eve knew there came a point when one had to take a leap of faith. There was no other way around it.  

She had taken a leap when she rescued these men from the precinct and it was something she would never have done otherwise unless she truly believed. 
 
“No,” Eve whispered softly, “damn I wish it was a hoax. I wish there was an explanation for all this but I don’t have one.”

“I wish I could make this easier for you but I’m just as lost as you are,” Aaron replied earnestly. “I thought Moses was just a patient but he’s more than that.  I don’t know what happened to Moses but I know that John Malcolm is evil and evil in a sense that we can even begin to imagine. He’s been creeping around our world for God knows how long and that scares the hell out of me.”

“Okay,” Eve met his eyes, “I’m with you on this, all the way.”

“Good,” Aaron smiled at her and felt inordinately pleased to know that.  He looked into her eyes and thought how easy it would be to let himself become lost in those sapphire depths.  Unfortunately, now was not the time for such indulgence and paused as he reached the door to the motel room.

“Moses, its me,” Aaron replied after knocking once. 

“What’s wrong?” Eve asked suddenly as she noticed the elves suddenly becoming very tense. Their faces became grave as if they were sensing something in the air that gave them concern.  Legolas had pushed his way next to Aaron as the door started to open, which confused the doctor to no end.  Since their meeting, the elf seemed very reluctant to let Aaron out of his sight. 

“Aaron?” Moses’ voice returned as the door swung open. 

“GANDALF!” Legolas exclaimed, his voice escaping in a burst of sound.  The elf’s blue eyes widened in shock as his face melted into an expression of disbelief as Gandalf, the sole purpose of their quest to this strange world, suddenly materialised before them. 

“Who?” Aaron returned just as swiftly as the elf dropped to one knee in a position of reverence before the old man.  Behind him, Elladan and Elrohir had done the same, similarly stunned that after four centuries of hearing nothing of their old friend, only to have him appear before him so unexpectedly. 

“Is that his name?” Aaron asked Legolas, cursing himself a moment a later because the elf could not understand a word he was saying.  Instead, Aaron directed his question at Moses himself,  “is that your name Moses?’

Moses was reacting badly to what was happening to him, especially the appearance of the new faces before him.  He recoiled when Legolas called him that strange name, as if the sound of it was a physical assault.  His eyes darted frantically to Aaron, conveying to him in a matter of seconds, the fear he felt. By now, Legolas had stood up and was jabbering away at the old man in the language that neither Aaron nor Eve could understand.   While Aaron could not understand the content of the elf’s words, he could tell that Legolas was very excited at being in the presence of his amnesiac patient.

“Legolas,” Aaron called out and grabbed the elf’s arm, restraining him as Moses stumbled backwards into the room. The elf met his eyes and Aaron held his hand in a gesture he hoped was the universal hand signal for stop.   

Legolas saw Aaron’s intention and though he did not understand the words, could see that his presence before Gandalf had clearly distressed the wizard.  Legolas could not understand what had happened to the Istar.  Gandalf was the most powerful of the Istari and he was a Maia spirit.  Why was he behaving like a frightened old man and worse yet, why was he afraid of Legolas? His eyes showed the fear of a cornered stag and deepened Legolas’ concern for him.

“Elladan, Elrohir,” he said to the brothers, “something has happened to him.”

“Yes,” Elladan concurred with Legolas’ assessment when he saw Aaron approach the wizard first, attempting to calm him from his highly agitated state.  

“Moses, its okay,” Aaron replied as they entered the room. Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir held back while Eve locked the door behind them. Of all of them, it was Eve who understood the situation the least.   However, she was refrained from asking question for the moment.  “You don’t have to feel afraid. They won’t make you do anything you are not comfortable with. I get the impression they’re just as worried about you as I am.”

“Who are they?” Moses asked, retreating into a wing chair and staring at past Aaron at the elves with clear apprehension.

“They’re friends,” Aaron answered, not knowing what else to say. “I think they’re your friends.”

“I do not remember them!” Moses hissed. 

“I think you do,” Aaron pressed a little.  “I think you do just a little. Its all right Moses, I’m here with you.  I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Moses,” Aaron turned his eyes towards the three elves, “this is Legolas, Elladan, Elrohir and that’s Eve,” he introduced her lastly.

Moses stared at the young woman for a long moment. It felt as if there was a wealth of information bottlenecked in a specific juncture of his mind, allowing only a trickle of memory through and none of it being what he really needed to know.  However, as he saw the woman return his stare, he found a word escaping his lips. 

“Evenstar,” he whispered.

“You remember?” Aaron looked at him in question.

“I do not wish to speak of this!” Moses cried out. “There is something there inside me that will not allow me to remember. I can feel it!”

“Gandalf,” Legolas tried desperately to reach the wizard, speaking in elvish and hoped that would spark some memory within the mind of his old friend. “Mellon, Gandalf, Mellon!” 

“I will not listen to you!” Moses shouted. 

“Can you understand him Moses?” Aaron stood between his patient and the elf. “Do you know what he is saying?”

“Yes!” Moses cried out. “He says that I am a friend! I do not know him!” 

“But you can understand him?” Eve declared. “You know what he is saying?”

“Yes,” Moses nodded, clearly distressed. The old man could not even look at the elves, he was that afraid.  “I understand him. I do not know how but I understand him.”

“What language is he speaking?” Eve asked finding her voice when she realised that she could finally converse with the elves if this old man could understand them.

“I do not know,” Moses shook his head, “I only know that I understand his speech.”

“Moses,” Aaron looked at him seriously, “is your name Gandalf?” 

No sooner than the word had escaped his lips did Moses convulse violently and uttered a scream not unlike a wounded animal.  Like before, the old man clutched his head in agony as he writhed and screamed. He collapsed on the floor, his cries becoming shrieks of agony that left the elves and Eve in stunned silence.  However, their silence did not last long because once again, the walls began shuddering and the same calamity that had left their previous hotel room in a shambles began to repeat itself. 

“What the hell?” Eve exclaimed as she felt the vibrations under her feet.  The furniture was shaking violently as if there was an earthquake. She had trouble staying on her feet as a chair tipped over and felt hard against the floor.  The furniture was being rattled so violently that it was moving across the carpet. She heard glass shatter from behind the bathroom door and heard what could only be described as water running.   The light fixture broke free as it was shaken loose and smashed onto the ground next to Elladan who caught the spray of glass across his back.

“Moses!” Aaron dropped to his knees and tried to help Moses who was screaming in pain, muttering incoherent words in between his cries of agony as around him, the room tore itself apart.  “Moses, listen to me!” He tried desperately to reach the old man, “its Aaron Moses, try to listen to my voice.  Try to come back from wherever you are by focusing on my voice!” 

Unfortunately, it appeared the ordeal that Moses was enduring could not be halted by Aaron’s soothing words. The old man seemed unreachable and his agony deepened the intensity of the tremors until those within it could hear the walls fracturing.  Mighty cracks were running across the stone, splitting the paint and as fragments of mortar and stone began to break free from its cracks.  Legolas took up position next to Moses as he tried to help Aaron calm the old man.  However, Moses was beyond hearing anything that might remove him from the dark place that was causing him such intense pain. 

“We have to get out of here!” Eve shouted at Aaron.

“No!” the doctor said stubbornly, “get my bag!” 

Eve looked over her shoulder at the black doctor’s bag and hurried to retrieve it.  She handed the leather case to Aaron who immediately opened it, leaving Moses to Legolas’ ministrations any more. 

“Gandalf,” Legolas tried desperately to reach the wizard, trying to help the powerful Istar who had saved all their lives on more occasions then he could think. 

“NO!” Aaron fairly screamed himself.  “Don’t use his name!” 

Legolas stared at him blankly, not understanding.

“Moses,” Aaron stated firmly as he produced the items he needed from inside the case. “Not Gandalf!”

To ensure that Legolas understood, Aaron shook his head when he said the word, hoping that the elf would understand what he had come to realise in the last few seconds, that whatever this condition Moses was suffering, it was his name that triggered these violent episodes.  

“Do not use his name Legolas!” Elladan replied, realising what Estel was trying to say to them.  “It is his name that makes him this way!’

“How can that be?” Legolas demanded outraged by the cruelty of it. “Who could have done this to an Istar?” 

“I do not know,” Elladan replied, “but until we know for certain, we must listen to Estel.  I believe he is a healer in this life.”

Indeed, even as Legolas struggled to hold Gandalf down to keep him from harming himself, Aaron was preparing placing a needed against the wizard’s arm.  Gandalf or Moses, as Aaron called him was unable to keep his powers from escaping him with each agonised scream.  The manifestation of his pain was shaking the walls around them so violently, that there was every possibility that the roof might collapse upon them, 

“What is he doing?” Elrohir asked as Aaron placed a sharp needle against Gandalf’s arm and filled him full of fluid from the receptacle it was attached to.

Suddenly, Gandalf’s convulsions began to abate as the struggle oozed out of his body.  In correspondence to his looming unconscious state, the powerful forces that had swept through the room also subsided with equal speed.  However, the damage was done and Aaron was grateful that this time, he had witnesses to the whole affair.  At least now he knew he was not imagining things. 

“What did you do?” Eve asked as the old man began to drift into unconsciousness.

“I knocked him out with 50 cc of Thorazine,” Aaron let out a heavy sigh.  “He’s going to be asleep for a little while.”

“That’s good to know,” Eve replied staring around the room in absolute astonishment. If she had any lingering doubts about Aaron’s story, it was more or less gone now.  She could not deny what she had seen even if she was somewhat shaken by it. “What just happened?” She demanded.

“He’s telekinetic I think,” Aaron tried to explain the best he could but this was a difficult proposition when he himself did not know what was wrong with his patient. He had come to the conclusion that Moses’ condition could not be cured by psychiatry. In fact, he had no idea how to help the old man, not after this.

“We have to get him out of here,” Eve spoke once she had regained composure of herself.  

“Yeah,” Aaron nodded, surveying the damage around them. “I don’t think I’ll be getting my deposit back for this room either.”

 ************\r\n\r\n

With the same urgency as before, Aaron and his companions took Moses and hurried out of the motel room before the destruction within it brought the attention of others. Thankfully the T Bird was a large car and they were able to fit inside it, eve if it was a bit of a squeeze.  In any case, Moses remained unconscious throughout most of their journey to mind very much.  This time it was Eve who took over the driving duties while Aaron kept a close eye on his patient.  He also tended to Elladan who had been injured when Moses power were rampaging through the room.

Legolas was watching Aaron working on Elladan’s back with a little smile.  The reincarnation of his friend was presently removing glass fragments from the elf’s back.  Fortunately, the injury was not severe for the heavy material of elven clothing had protected too many pieces from being embedded in skin.   It seemed only fitting to Legolas that Aaron should be a healer, even when he was so far removed from his life as Aragorn, King of Gondor and a former Ranger, the instinct to heal was still within his old friend. 

“What?” Aaron noticed the blond elf looking at him with a bemused smile as he removed small shard of glass that had penetrated Elladan’s clothes to meet skin.

“You,” Legolas replied and glanced at the black bag. 

“Doctor,” Aaron answered assuming he was talking about Aaron’s ability to treat Elladan.  “Me, Doctor,” he repeated touching the bag.

Legolas nodded, absorbing the word, “You, Strider, Aragorn, doctor.”

“That’s right,” Aaron replied, uncertain of what the elf was trying to say. “I’m a doctor.”

“No,” Legolas shook his head. “Strider, doctor.”

“I think this Strider guy was a doctor,” Eve said helpfully from the driver’s seat. 

“I still have trouble believing all this,” Aaron said shaking his head as he continued to treat Elladan. He made his remark at Legolas who continued to smile at him but there was also understanding in the elf’s eyes as well.

“Any more difficult believing your patient is telekinetic?” Eve asked.

“Telekinesis I can deal with,” Aaron said with a frown, “reincarnation? That’s something else.”

“Listen,” Eve glanced over her shoulder long enough to meet his eyes, “I have trouble believing all this and I’m a cop but ever since I came within sight of that damn Monolith, something has been happening to me.  I’ve always had intuition, strong intuitions, it has helped me size people up easily on the job but since I walked into that place, its gotten worse. I shouldn’t know what these guys are but I do. I know they’re elves.  As impossible as it is to believe, I know it. I can feel it.  I can feel they don’t want to hurt me and sometimes, I can even feel that two of them might have been my brothers once in another life.  As an investigator, I look for the most obvious solutions but in the absence of any evidence, you sometimes have to take a leap of faith and believe in something else.”

Aaron swallowed thickly, “ever since I ran into Moses, I have been able to sleep without having strange dreams.  The night before all this started, before Stuart was killed, I dreamt I was someone else.  Ever since he called me Thorongil, I’ve had this strange feeling that I’ve known him before. I’ve heard of hypnosis bringing memories of past lives to surface but I’m a psychiatrist, I am trained to think that there should be other explanations to psychosis, not far fetched ideas like reincarnation but like you, I know I was this Strider person. It scares the hell out of me but I know it.”

“Yeah, you were Strider, Aragorn Elessar, Estel and Thorongil,” Eve teased. “If we ever work out how to carry on a conversation with our friends here, I’m going to have to ask why you have half a dozen names.”

Aaron laughed shortly before casting a look at Moses who was still very much unconscious, “I figured out something about Moses though.”

“What is it?” Eve asked automatically.

“John Malcolm did this to him,” Aaron said firmly.

“Malcolm?” Legolas asked. 

“Too long to explain,” Aaron shrugged. 

“Melkor?” Legolas looked at him again.  He thought he heard Aaron say Melkor’s name.  Coupled with what was happening to Gandalf, it almost made sense.  Legolas cursed the inability to communicate because he wanted to know why Aaron had mentioned a word that sounded so much like the dark lord’s name.  Gandalf had left Valinor in pursuit of dark evil that had risen in the outer world, that they had been able to feel even in the undying lands.  Could it be Melkor?

“No,” Aaron replied. “Malcolm, John Malcolm.”

Legolas did not press him further but Aaron felt a chill run up his spine at the troubled look on Legolas’ face.  Aaron was starting to read this blond elf very well and what was more disturbing, he was starting to share this kinship the elf felt with him.  

“You were saying,” Eve prompted, wanting to know how John Malcolm could be responsible for Moses/ Gandalf’s condition.

“It has to be Malcolm in light of everything else we know.  John Malcolm is capable of resurrecting himself,” Aaron reasoned out as he placed clean bandages over Elladan’s wound. “What if Moses knew about it?  He spoke to me about being alive when they had carriages on the roads. He was wandering the streets back then.  He said to me that he had been away for a long time that he had needed to come back. What if he has been around for as long as Malcolm?”

“He sure looks old enough,” Eve was ready to accept the possibility. It was surprising how easily she was accepting everything these days.  She supposed once she believed there were elves in the world, it was only a hop skip and a jump to believing that there could be seemingly immortal people roaming the streets of New York. 

”That’s why I called him Moses,” Aaron shrugged.

“Good thinking,” Eve rolled her eyes, “go on.”

“Okay,” Aaron continued. “If Moses has been around as long as Malcolm then he might know how Malcolm was reincarnating himself.  Moses told me he was sent to stop the evil, to stop the darkness they felt even though they were a world away.”

“Its possible that Moses comes from wherever these elves come from,” Eve pointed out. 

“But he’s not an elf,” Aaron declared, having never thought of that.

“True but if they sent him here to stop evil then perhaps they made him come looking like one of us, so he wouldn’t draw suspicion,” she replied, using her investigative instincts to help Aaron with his hypothesis.

She was right, Aaron decided and continued, “I think Moses came to stop Malcolm and somehow or rather Malcolm couldn’t kill him but Malcolm could make him forget.  If he affected Moses’ memory, he might have put in a fail safe to ensure Moses would not be able to remember the truth.”

“Like sending him nuts if he ever heard name,” Eve concluded.

“No its worse than that,” Aaron said softly. “If he ever remembered his name.”


Chapter 7 - Cosmic Turntables

Sandra Collins stepped into Eve’s home a short time after the policewoman’s hasty departure with her companions with a tightening knot of tension in her stomach.  She could tell just by the silence after her people kicked in the door that they were too late. Eve McCaughley was no fool. She would have guessed the forces rallied against her and ensured that when Malcolm Industries resumed their hunt for her and Doctor Stone, this was most likely the place they would begin. As Sandra left the foyer and followed the small annex emptying into the living room, she could tell by the disarray that they had not been gone very long. Unfortunately, where the woman might have fled was another thing entirely.

It appeared that Eve McCaughley and Aaron Stone had one thing in common; neither had any family to speak of and thus no leads to where they might seek sanctuary if they were driven from their homes. Sandra had not paid enough attention to McCaughley to know where the woman might go after leaving here and someone was already watching Stone’s apartment.  Sandra did not think the doctor was foolish enough to back there anyway. The situation was getting worse by the minute and she did not relish the notion of returning to Malcolm and informing him that they had lost both parties. 

Sandra moved through the house, studying the memorabilia from a lifetime beyond that of Officer McCaughley. Sandra had recalled reading the file on the woman revealing her family’s close association with the police force. Eve’s father and brother had been police officers; one had died in the line of duty and the other with grief.  Her mother had passed away of cancer or something of the like when McCaughley was ten and so the young woman was raised with a predominantly masculine upbringing. 

It was obviously a close family, Sandra determined by the apparent warmth in the photographs on the mantle piece.  The house was very much a relic of Eve McCaughley’s connection to her past. Very little about it had changed according to the photographs and Sandra had the impression while little parts of it had been decorated to suit its present owner, McCaughley had left it untouched as a homage to the family that was now buried in the ground.  

“Anything?” Sandra asked as she was approached by one of Malcolm Industries ‘security’ consultants, a bear of man named Barry who wore a dark suit and looked like a secret service agent instead of the hired goon that he was. 

“No,” Barry shook his cropped blond head. “If they were here, they left in a hurry. They cleared out the kitchen, took supplies with them and left.”

“Supplies?” Sandra gave him a look. “What sort of supplies?”

“Well the kitchen’s empty,” Barry answered, remembering what the other members of his team had reported during their search of the house, “looks like they took food with them.  Upstairs closet in the hallway looks like someone went through it. I think they took blankets and pillows with them.”

“How interesting,” Sandra said contemplatively.  “It appears they have gone to ground.”

“What are your instructions?” Barry inquired since it looked as if they would find nothing here. 

“I want to go back to Stone’s apartment,” Sandra answered as she paused in front of the mantle piece and examined a framed picture of McCaughley and her brother Darien.  She stared at the picture for a long while before replacing it on the mantle piece. 

“Yes ma’am,” Barry nodded. “I’ll get the others moving.”

“Not yet,” Sandra stopped him before he moved past her. “I’ll go to Stone’s apartment. I want you to meet me there after you finish up here.”

“Finish up?” Barry looked at her with puzzlement. “There’s nothing to find here. I don’t think McCaughley will be back.”

“I don’t either,” Sandra said icily, “but if she does, I want her homecoming to be memorable. So burn it down, Barry, burn it all down.”

 ************\r\n\r\n



Eve could not remember the last time she had been any place as pretty as this. 

Being an officer of the NYPD, it was easy to forget that there was a world beyond homicides and vice, where there were no ghetto wars, no drive by shootings or liquor store robberies.  Beyond the walls of the concrete jungle, there was a simpler world and half the time it was a pretty nice place to be. There was a time before she had followed the family profession when Eve considered escaping the boundaries of that world to see what lay beyond it.  She had wanted to travel and experience a little of life’s beauty before she became bound to see its ugliness from the other side of the badge.  However, it did not come to pass and Eve found herself enrolled at the Police Academy far sooner than she would have desired.

She regretted none the choices she had made.  Yet as she stood on the porch of Aaron’s cabin, staring out into the hills where Bear Mountain held court over the landscape, Eve wondered if she had missed out by never taking that road to self-discovery.  For so long, her life had been the job and it had become worse since her father had passed away.  Until now, she had not considered how lonely her life was especially since she was all that was left of the family she knew as a child.  

After Darien and her father had died within a year of each other, Eve knew that she had become a little insular. She devoted herself to the job because emotionally, it was less taxing than caring for people who would only leave you in the due course of time. Living this way served her well even if it was a subconscious desire and not any real effort to keep people at a distance.  

Unfortunately, it appeared fate had other plans for her since her life in a space of 48 hours had suddenly become inundated with new faces.  How she had come to risk everything, her life and her career on a trio of elves, an insane old man with the propensity to destroy hotel rooms and a psychiatrist who was apparently had more names than the artist formerly known as (insert named here).  

Not that he was not intriguing in his own way, Eve mused as she stood on the porch, wrapped in the old flannel robe she did not have the heart to give to goodwill when her brother died, staring out in the resplendent beauty of Bear Mountain at dawn, nursing a steaming coffee. 

There was something about Aaron that was familiar in a way that made her feel warm and predisposed towards him, though she would need to be at gunpoint before she admitted that to anyone, least of all him. Eve’s relationships in the past told her that it was difficult for most men to accept her lifestyle even though the idea of the uniform and handcuffs was often a point of titillation.  However, for most part Eve found that it was easier to date men in the force because they were the ones who were more accepting of her manner. 

Aaron was not what she expected of a psychiatrist. Her perception probably had to do with the elitist superiority they tended to project to those who were not of the profession.  Of course, she was probably a little biased by the fact that they always seemed to be facilitating the criminal elements justification of horrific crimes by supporting their pleas of insanity.  Still, she was impressed by how much Aaron had been willing to suffer for the sake of his patient, the strange old man called Moses or Gandalf as they know believed. 

“Good morning,” she heard him step out onto the porch with her. 

“Morning,” she glanced over her shoulder briefly before she returned her gaze to the rustic scenery before her. 

“How did you sleep?” Aaron asked casually as he joined her.

“After the day we had?” She crooked a brow at him, “like a log.”

“Me too,” he confessed, following her gaze to the scenery before them. 

They had arrived at the cabin in the small hours of the night. After buying supplies that they had not be able to scavenge from her house, they had sat on the highway all the way out of town, painfully aware that they could be followed. Fortunately, it appeared as if they had made good their escape though neither Eve nor Aaron believed for a moment that they were safe.  With the resources at Malcolm’s disposal, it was possible that he could still find them, even here.  Although there was nothing on paper anyway that indicated Aaron Stone frequented this lodge house at the foot of Bear Mountain, there was no reason to assume that they could remain hidden indefinitely. 

“How long have you been coming here?” She asked, flicking a strand of dark hair from her face as she regarded him. 

“A couple of years,” Aaron replied, trying not to look directly at her because now that things were not so chaotic, he was noticing her far more than he had before.  He supposed, it might have something to do with the fact that even though she was clad in the most unflattering flannelette robe he had ever seen, she still managed to make it look good. 

“It’s a great place,” she nodded with a little smile. “My grandparents used to have something like this when I was little. Its nice to have somewhere you can just leave the city behind you.”

“Yeah,” Aaron agreed, “Stuart were I going to….” 

Aaron paused a moment when he realised that he and Stuart were never going to do anything again.  It was only a few weeks ago that they talked about another trip out here. A surge of grief for his old friend lost came upon him so suddenly that Aaron was scarcely able to breathe.  For a moment, just a brief instant of time, Aaron had forgotten that Stuart was dead.  Remembering the truth hurt and it showed on Aaron’s face.

“Hey,” Eve said reaching for his hand and held it in hers for a moment. Eve knew what it was like to lose a loved one and while she could empathize with his pain, she was not about to let him face it alone, especially when she had every suspicion that he believed what happened  to Stuart was his fault.  

“Its okay to hurt Aaron,” she gave him a look of sympathy.

“I know,” he swallowed thickly, trying to restrain the grief he felt over the loss of his best friend. “I really miss him.  He’s always been there and I haven’t got used to the idea that he’s gone.”

“It takes awhile,” she offered compassionately. “Losing him the way you did doesn’t make it any easier either.”

“No it doesn’t” Aaron had to concede and lifted his gaze to meet hers. Once again, the depths of her eyes momentarily soothed thoughts of Stuart and Aaron found that being with her made him feel a little better, “I thought I was supposed to be the shrink?”

“You are,” she looked at him with the same growing affection, “but we cops know more about dealing with people dying than you do during sessions.  We live with the possibility every day because it could happen to us or to someone we know.  The best way to deal with it is to just feel the pain and then move on. We can’t afford to let it eat us up inside.  We let the grief get out of hand and it will reflect how we do the job.”

“You lose many people in your life?” Aaron asked quietly, sensing that she spoke from experience.

“My mother when I was little and after my brother was killed in the line of duty, my father just slipped away,” Eve replied with more feeling than she intended. 

Aaron sensed that as bravely as she spoke, she was still suffering the lingering effects of such a devastating loss. “I’m sorry,” he offered.

“They’ve been gone awhile,” she shrugged. “I miss them but I’m over it.”

Aaron did not believe it but he was not about to be to contradict her.  

“So how long do we stay here?” He asked, deciding that it was prudent to change the subject and he did not wish to dwell too much on his pain over Stuart’s death.  He may be a psychiatrist but he was not ready to discuss the full extent of his grief in detail to anyone, not even to Eve despite how attractive she was.  It was still too fresh.  Perhaps when this was over, he would be ready to talk about it and if Eve was still in his life, he hoped he could talk to her.  For the moment however, he just wanted to forget.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “Malcolm’s a powerful man, it won’t take long to track us down.  We can’t hide forever. The man has resources we don’t.”

“I’m sorry I got you into this,” Aaron apologised. 

“I think I was on my way there anyway,” Eve declared. “Running into you just kicked things in to overdrive. Besides, it’s for the better. You and I both have different pieces of the same jigsaw.”

“Speaking of your pieces, where are the other two?” He asked referring to Elladan and Elrohir who were not in the lodge when he awoke.  Legolas had taken the duty of keeping a vigil on Moses while Aaron caught up on his sleep. 

“Communing with nature I think,” Eve retorted. “They were just itching to go out into the woods, I think they’ve had enough of the city.”

“You notice they don’t sleep,” Aaron remarked. 

“Tell me about it,” Eve rolled her eyes remembering how she had found all three fixated on the television set the first night they had enjoyed her hospitality. “I don’t think they sleep the way that we do.”

“How do you know?” He looked at her.

”Just a feeling,” Eve sighed, not wishing to reveal to him that it was something she sensed more than anything she could explain.  

”I can’t get much out of Legolas,” Aaron retorted, “but he kept watch on Moses all night so I could get some sleep. He doesn’t even look sleepy.”

“He looks very attached to you,” Eve pointed out. 

“Yeah I noticed that,” Aaron nodded, recalling Legolas’ initial reaction to him.  “I think Legolas and Strider were very close.”

It was not an idle supposition. Whoever he was to Legolas in the past, it was clear the elf cared deeply for him.  In another life, Aaron suspected they might have been friends the way he and Stuart had been. Another disturbing aspect, which Aaron did not reveal to Eve, was his ability to guess what the elf was thinking even without words.  Aaron would have put it down to his psychiatric training but the truth was, he just knew how Legolas was going to react about certain things. Legolas seemed to have the same insight into his personality.   Once again, the whole notion of reincarnation left Aaron very off balance.

“When I was in high school,” Eve replied, “I had a philosophy class where the teacher claimed that reincarnation was not just coming back with the same soul but also to the same people.  Your soul finds the people it knew in the past, maybe that’s why this is happening. Maybe this is some cosmic turntable and we’re just playing the same record with a different tune.”

Aaron looked at her before declaring with a smile, “you have too many thoughts.”

Eve laughed, “maybe but I’ve also decided that if we’re going to play highlights from the fugitive, then I’m going to have to teach you some new skills.”

Aaron did not like the sound of this, “new skills?”

Eve smiled at him, “trust me.”

 ************\r\n\r\n

Legolas Greenleaf sat in the chair watching Mithrandir, unable to imagine that the most powerful Istar he knew and the Maia servant of Manwe was presently asleep in his bed, resembling little more than a frail and helpless old man.  It was difficult for Legolas to accustom to himself with what he was seeing now when he remembered the feats the wizard had accomplished in his long life.  Legolas remembered how Mithrandir had stood against the Balrog in the mines of Moria, how he had rallied the armies of light in the dark days during the War of the Ring and carried out countless other deeds of heroism that could not all be named. 

That he was here before Legolas, helpless and forgotten after four centuries with his mind in tatters was such an affront to the elf that Legolas could barely restrain his outrage.  

Vengeance was not an emotion elves preferred to harbour.  However, seeing the once great wizard in such terrible condition, a wizard who had not only done a great service to the peoples of Middle earth and who was also his friend, compelled Legolas rethink the whole notion of retribution. He wondered if Aaron understood that any ailment with the power to undo the mind of an istar was most likely incapable of being cured by human hands.  However, it was in Aaron’s nature to try in much the same way it had been Aragorn’s.

For so long Legolas had feared he was the last of the Fellowship.  He had mired himself in grief at the loss of the mortal companions who meant so much to him, not just Melia. Of all those who had passed into the next life, it was Aragorn that Legolas missed the most, perhaps even more than Gimli who had been his constant companion until the dwarf’s passing. Valinor ensured a mortal’s life was long and without disease, it did not prolong it.  When Mithrandir had been lost four centuries ago, Legolas had refused to believe that he could be dead.  He did not want to be the last of the nine walkers.  

The tragedy of being immortal was the continuous death of loved ones. 

His fear of this had driven him to embark upon this quest although not in a million years did he conceive that he would find what he had. Not only was Mithrandir alive but so was Aragorn and Arwen.  True, the duo had little memory of the people they had been but Legolas recognised them as surely as he had recognised Ariel wearing Melia’s soul the firs time had laid eyes upon the elf maid.  Everything about Aaron was Aragorn.  The way he looked, the stubborn desire to help no matter what the consequences to himself and even the same self-depreciating manner. Even though the inability to converse could not convey what danger they were faced with, Legolas could tell that it had everything to do with Mithrandir and Aaron was determined to protect him.  

This was the Aragorn that Legolas knew and as if the last one hundred thousand years had simply melted away, Legolas was committed to stand by his side while he did just that.

The elf’s ruminations were interrupted when he heard a slight moan and looked up to see Mithrandir stirring in his bed.  Legolas remained in his chair, sitting quietly as the old man came out of his slumber.  He remembered what effect saying his name had upon Mithrandir and resolved himself not to speak the Istar’s name.  Legolas had seen first hand what the wizard was capable of when his control of his powers were unleashed.

“Good morning old friend,” Legolas spoke in elvish, recalling Mithrandir had understood him when they last spoke. 

“You are still here,” Moses muttered as he looked at Legolas through heavy eyelids. “I thought I had dreamed you.”

“I am here,” Legolas replied. “I have come a long way to find you.”

“From where?” Moses asked with a little more animation in his speech.

“It is not important that you know,” Legolas declared, deciding that he should not confront Mithrandir with too many facts about his past. In his fragile state of mind, the consequences could be another dangerous outburst of power.  “Only that I have come to take you home.”

Moses sat up in his bed, “I have been lost for a very long time haven’t I?”

“Yes,” Legolas nodded sombrely. “We feared you were dead. I would not believe it until I saw your body for myself.”

“How is that I can understand you?” Moses retorted, his heavy grey bows raising slightly as he waited for an answer.

Legolas smiled faintly, “you know a number of languages.  Elvish is but one the many tongues you speak.”

“Oh,” Moses looked confused because he remembered none of it. “I find it disconcerting that there is nothing about you that strikes me as odd even though you are as you say, elvish.”

“You are accustomed to being around many races,” Legolas offered helpfully.  “There was a time when that was all you did, travelling around meeting new people.”

“Wonderful,” Moses rumbled. “I was always a vagrant.”

“Not quite,” Legolas laughed and paused when he heard footsteps approaching the room and knew that it was Aaron and Eve.  Unfortunately, Aaron did not possess the stealth or the ability that Aragorn possessed to go about unnoticed.  A moment later, the door swung open and Aaron stepped through the doorway first, his eyes fixed upon Mithrandir before resting on Legolas. 

“You’re awake Moses,” Aaron declared with genuine relief. “How are you feeling?”

“A good deal better though I have an elf in my room and I am able to speak his language,” Moses replied.

“So you can understand him?” Eve asked, gazing at Legolas.

“Apparently so,” Moses shrugged, too weary to question why. 

“Ask him why Aaron has so many names,” she quipped and secured a look from Aaron in quick succession. 

“Moses, can you ask him who he thinks I am?” Aaron asked, turning back to Legolas. 

“I can,” Moses nodded and turn to Legolas, relating the question and in turn receiving an answer.  The old man rose both brows as the elf gave him a response for Aaron and his reaction made Aragorn nervous. 

“He says,” Moses replied after a pause, “that you were once Aragorn Elessar, King of Gondor, ruler of House Telecontari, formerly a Ranger named Strider, also the Dunedain and for a time known in Rohan as Thorongil – the Eagle of the Star.”

“Jesus,” Eve looked at Aaron in astonishment.

“And you were his wife,” Moses concluded with a little smile.

“What?” Eve exclaimed and stared at Aaron whose initial shock was now giving way to a wide smirk across his face.

“You were Queen Arwen Evenstar or as it was pronounced in elvish, Undomiel,” Moses replied. 

“Did you say wife?” Eve stammered, feeling a hot flush of embarrassment racing to her cheeks. 

“He said wife,” Aaron replied with grin.

“Get that smile off your face,” Eve snapped, disliking the notion that cosmic turntable meant that she was karmically predisposed to falling for this man. 

“Its fate,” he continued to smile, his hand lowering onto her shoulder and succeeded in getting himself elbowed in the stomach. 

Legolas seemed to chuckle and spoke to Moses further. 

“He says that you have not changed much Aaron,” Moses remarked with a little smile.

At that remark, Aaron regarded the elf and spoke to Moses, “how do we know each other?”

Moses relayed the question and was afforded an answer in good time.  Legolas seemed to stare at Aaron and awaited his reaction as Moses responded. 

“He says that he knew you for most of your life, that you were friends through many great adventures.  You have saved his life many times and he has saved yours.  When the elves were leaving this world, you were the reason he remained behind for as long as he did. When you passed into death, he could no longer bear to watch any more friends die, that is when he left. You were closer than brothers and more than friends.”

Aaron could feel it as the elf stared at him.  He could feel the kinship that Legolas felt for him and wished he could remember something of the friendship the elf placed so much value upon.  However, it did not matter if the memory did not remain, the emotions this elf engendered in him were not unlike the feelings he had for Stuart. 

“Why did he come here?” Aaron asked after a moment, breaking away from Legolas’ gaze. 

“I believe he came looking for me,” Moses replied, seeing no need to ask Legolas that question when he already knew the answer.  “I appear to have been lost for quite some time.”

“Ask him if he knows why you came here,” Aaron inquired further, not wishing to tax Moses too much by making him act as translator. However, there were certain things that they needed to know and Moses was possibly the only person alive who could understand what Legolas was saying.

Moses turned towards Legolas and related the question.  The elf met Aaron’s eyes and showed his trepidation at answering the question but Aaron nodded at him to continue because they needed to know something about what happened to Moses. Unfortunately, they needed to tread cautiously as well because Moses’ mind was still in a fragile state.  Aaron did not wish to spark another violent episode by inadvertently causing man to delve too deeply into his identity.  Legolas spoke shortly and Aaron saw Moses reacting slightly but not enough to cause him concern.

“I was sent to find the cause of the darkness,” Moses replied, staring uncertainly at Legolas as he translated the words. “They felt it from across the world, it penetrated the realms that separate the realm of elves.”

“And this evil is somehow John Malcolm?” Eve looked at Aaron sceptically. She could believe that the man had too much power but she had been a cop too long to accept that there could be evil in the world.  Eve saw evil as a state of mind, not as a living, breathing entity.  To think that real evil could exist, the kind so prolifically detailed in many religious texts made Eve’s skin crawl.

“Yes,” Moses nodded without even having to translate that question for Legolas. “It is Malcolm.”

Legolas reacted to Malcolm’s name and began speaking quickly as if he had an opinion in the matter.  Moses absorbed what he said with growing apprehension and Aaron was about to put a stop to it when the old man began speaking again.

“He wants to know if we are speaking of a creature called Melkor?” 

“Malcolm?” Aaron guessed, understanding why Legolas had brought it up earlier.  Malcolm and Melkor, there were similarities in the sound of the name. Was it because they were one and the same?  “It’s possible. Who is Melkor?”

“He was called the Dark Enemy,” Moses started speaking and Aaron had the feeling that his words were not from Legolas’ translation.  “In his time, he laid waste to much of the world, long before all this was even conceived in the minds of men.  The powers that sent me here banished him to the void and there he was thought to have been, until now.” Moses concluded raising his eyes to meet Aaron’s. “He is Malcolm,” Moses said softly. “I know it.”

“And now he wants to kill you because you know his secret,” Aaron surmised.

“No Aaron,” Eve said gravely, “he wants to kill all of us because now we know.”

Aaron met her gaze and remembered the chase that had led to them being here, “you’re right.”

“I think that its time you learn those new skills I was talking about,” she replied staring at Aaron and then at Legolas as well.  “The both of you.”

 ************\r\n\r\n


Aaron looked dubiously at the gun in his hand and decided that nothing in his world had gone as completely mad as his agreeing to pick up the weapon.  Unfortunately, despite his natural dislike for handling guns of any kind, he had begrudgingly admit that he could not rely on Eve to protect him as she had done when she saved his life in the parking lot of the Malcolm Building.  As she pointed out and rather determinedly, there were dangerous people after them and he needed to be able to protect himself in her absence. While Aaron did not like the notion of anything happening to Eve, he had to admit that the possibility existed that harm might befall her in the course of this situation they found themselves in.  

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Aaron replied as he looked at the gun she was showing him how to load.

“Don’t be such a baby,” Eve retorted as she slid the magazine into place. “Now this is a 9 millimetre Barretta, the sidearm of choice for most police officers and military personnel. It has 22 rounds and is what you call a double action semi-automatic weapon.”

“As in twenty two bullets?” He looked at her.

“You have a lodge in the woods and you don’t know how to use a gun?” She stared at him. “Didn’t you even go hunting?”

“I don’t like guns,” he repeated himself. “If I want meat, that’s what the supermarket is for.”

“Look,” she sucked in a deep breath, indicating that she was starting to get annoyed. “I don’t much like the idea of giving civilians guns either. Personally, the deconstruction of society is the readiness to solve our problems with one of these but the men who are after us, don’t have that moral objection and will shoot us or worse if you do not know how to protect yourself.”

“Alright,” Aaron frowned and saw a similar look of displeasure on the faces of Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir, who had returned from their explorations to be drafted into this unpleasant exercise. “What do I have to do?”

“Now this thing is loaded,” she replied, carefully the weapon to him, butt first. “Keep your finger off the trigger unless you’re ready to fire. You’ve seen how I took the safety off. When you don’t plan on using it, make sure the safety is on all the time.”

Aaron took the weapon in his hand, disliking the feel of the cold steel against his skin.  He had been in the emergency room enough times to know just how much damage these weapons could inflict upon a person.  He had never desired to use one himself but Eve was correct, he had to learn. 

”Do I just point and shoot?” He looked at her.

“Something like that,” Eve shook her head, realising she had an uphill battle.

Aaron swallowed and stared at the target in front of him that was in actuality a number of bottles spaced out across a wooden face.  The elves were staring at him in sympathy for it appeared they had no wish to use the weapon themselves. Of course, Aaron kept silent the fact that they were in no position to take the moral high ground because their arsenal included archery weapons and swords that was almost as deadly as a gun, if not more. 

“Just line up the target with the sight,” Eve instructed, having given him preliminaries before they reached this point.

Aaron held the weapon the way Eve had told him and took aim.  He thought briefly that the Pepsi Cola bottle had done nothing to deserve a bullet and told himself he was starting to sound like Hawkeye Pierce from MASH. Taking a deep breath, he squeezed the trigger gently, bracing himself for the noise that would followed.

To the elves, the shot fired was like hearing the sudden crack of thunder.  Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir reacted at once as the noise tore through their ears.  All three jumped up startled by the thunderous explosion of sound and reached instinctively for their ears.  However, the shock of the weapon’s loud bang was nothing in comparison to the effect the projectile ejected from the barrel, had upon the target.  The plastic bottle flew through the air, spinning like a wheel before it landed on the ground smoking, its body split open.

“Elbereth!” Elladan exclaimed in astonishment as they saw for the first time, what those weapons were capable of.  “I am glad we were not on the receiving end of that.” 

“We almost were,” Elrohir reminded, recalling how they had engaged the two thieves that had accosted the shop where they had bought a meal during their first night in this strange land. 

“Its range is considerable,” Legolas commented, paying attention the technical aspects of it rather than the weapon’s awesome abilities.  “It travels almost as far as an arrow.”

“With greater speed,” Elrohir reminded. “You cannot chart its progress with the naked eye.”

“I suppose,” Legolas shrugged, unwilling to admit his bow was a less superior weapon. “I wonder what that small projectile would do once inside the body.”

“Judging by Aaron’s reluctance to use it, I would say the damage would be considerable,” Elladan pointed out.
 ************\r\n\r\n

“Hey I got it!” Aaron said with more enthusiasm than he thought possible. He was certain that his novice handling of the gun would prevent him from getting a bullet even close to the target; however, his effort was far from disappointing.

“Yeah,” Eve stared at him a moment, rather surprised that he made the shot so well. Must be beginner’s luck, she thought silently. “Try another one,” she prompted.

“Okay,” Aaron cocked the weapon again, this time greatly encouraged by his success. “Here’s goes.”

The weapon fired again and this time with a less dramatic reaction from the elves although they still held their ears in reaction to the loud bang that followed the pulling of the trigger.  The second target this time, was a can of Doctor Pepper and bounced off the fence swiftly and landed in the grass nearby.  

“Again,” Eve ordered, just to see if the doctor could maintain his aim now that he had some momentum.

Aaron readjusted his aim and fired, following her prompt before each pull of the trigger.  The air was alive with the sound of gunfire.  Wildlife residing in trees close by took flight, their beating wings a distant sound as they soared across the sky away from the commotion.  After a time, Aaron was not even pausing to taking aim. It was frightening how easy it was for him to be accustomed to handling the gun.   Aaron did not know how many rounds he had squeezed off before there were no more targets to shoot but the weapon no longer felt so alien to him any more.  

Aaron was undecided if this was a good thing or not.

“You can have it back now,” Aaron replied returning the Barretta to her. 

Eve saw the uneven trail of bottles lying across the ground, ruined completely by the marksmanship of the doctor and wondered if he was hustling her.  She supposed it could be beginner’s luck but more accurately, he had a good eye for targeting.  It was probably a skill his educated background had never exploited before now and it was clear that he was just as surprised by how well he did, as she was. 
“You sure you haven’t fired a gun before?” Eve asked as Aaron sat down next to Legolas.

“No,” he shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t like guns. I’m a doctor; I’ve seen first hand what they can do but I did do okay?” 

“Yeah you weren’t bad,” Eve retorted, preparing to stack some old bottles she had found on the fence to resume their target practice.

“For a beginner,” she added.

“A beginner?” Aaron exclaimed rather offended by her assessment of his skill. “I shot every one of those things.  Those cans and bottles will never threaten anyone again.”

“True,” she looked over her shoulder with a smirk. “If we’re at a seven eleven, we’ll be completely protected.”

“Very funny,” he retorted, unaware that three sets of eyes were watching them closely with rising amusement. 

 ************\r\n\r\n

“Reincarnated or not, they are still the same,” Elladan remarked with a smile as he watched the playful banter between Eve and Aaron. While they understood nothing that was being said, the body language between the two was clear enough for even a blind man to interpret. 

“They are destined for each other,” Elrohir agreed, remembering how it had been in the early days of Aragorn and Arwen’s great love for each other.  It had amused the brothers to no end to watch their youthful friend yearn for their seemingly unattainable sister. 

For an elf, Arwen had taken long time to choose someone worthy of her affections.  Elves usually married in the first century of their lives, those who remained unmarried for so long, usually did not do so at all.  Since the Eldar found the concept of arranged marriages offensive, the twins as well as their father, assumed that Arwen would find love in her own good time.  There were occasions when they thought that it might be Legolas who would win the Evenstar’s hand.  After all, she had remained at Lothlorien long enough to sometimes cross paths with the Prince of Mirkwood during visits between Celeborn and Thranduil’s kingdom.  However, their relationship had never progressed beyond its platonic boundaries and was more akin to sibling affection than romantic love.

When she did chose, it was beyond anyone’s comprehension that she would pick a human. Aragorn had come to mean a great deal to House of Elrond, not simply because he was the son of Arathorn, but also because he was raised by the Lord of Imlardis in the years after his father’s death.  There were many that compared the love of Arwen and Aragorn to that of Beren and Luthien.  It was meant to be magnificent and beautiful; an expression of love that would ultimately culminate in tragedy but not even her family suspected that Arwen was willing to die a mortal death for Isildur’s heir.

It broke their hearts to know that she would not sail across the sea to Valinor but her love for her king was blinding and had a tendency to inspire even the most jaded soul to feel something of it. In the end they understood her choice but Elrond never recovered losing his precious daughter.  Even in the years following their departure from Middle earth, Elrond and Celebrian mourned their missing child. More than anything Elrohir wished their father could be here now because knowing that the Evenstar was reborn, even if it was in human flesh would have been a source of great joy.

“It will be difficult for me to leave,” Legolas suddenly stated.

Elladan turned to him sharply, “you cannot stay here Legolas.”

Legolas did not answer and that made Elladan even more nervous.  Elladan knew how deep Legolas’ friendship with Aragorn had been.  He was the last elf to leave Middle earth because of this friendship and his loyalty to the king of Gondor. 

“Legolas, this is an entirely different world than the one we left,” Elladan stared at the elf, perfectly aware how determined Legolas could be when the mood took him, “you cannot remain.”

“I know,” Legolas agreed begrudgingly.  “It is just that I have always found it difficult to say goodbye to him.”

“He is not the Aragorn you knew Legolas,” Elrohir said gently, “he is a hundred thousand years away from the Elfstone.”

“Yes,” Legolas replied, “but it is still good to see him.”

“I cannot disagree with you there,” Elladan confessed as he stared at the woman who was once his sister and the man who was once his friend, “I will miss them when it is time to leave.”

 ************\r\n\r\n


Eve managed to convince the elves to try their hand at shooting the Barretta but soon came to the conclusion that while Legolas showed some ability, none of them were at all comfortable with firing a gun.  In away she understood the reasoning since it was rather profane trying to imagine an elf carrying a 9 millimetre handgun.  Instead, Elladan seemed determined that Aaron should learn how to use a sword, as he was supposedly very good at it once.  Unfortunately, he did not pick up swordsmanship as quickly as he was able to shoot and Eve was very amused by Aaron’s attempts to play Errol Flynn. It was strange how fast the bond between the four men had developed, even though they could barely form the words to express themselves to each other.

Instead of progressing with another hypnosis session now that they were in more remote surroundings, Aaron had decided to allow Moses the opportunity to recover from his previous session and the violent episode the day after.  Although Moses seemed less uncomfortable around the elves, the doctor still worried for the patient’s well being, particularly in light of what they were discovering about himself and about John Malcolm. Eve could not blame Aaron wanting to allow Moses a little recovery time. After seeing what he was capable of, she was not overly anxious to see the psychiatrist delving into the old man’s mind again when it was capable of manifesting itself in a physical attack.

Eve sat on the porch steps staring at the moon in the sky above the mountain.  The quiet was allowing her to shift through her own thoughts regarding this situation, particularly the feelings she had around Aaron.  A part of her was fighting her attraction to him and as much as she disliked it, she could not deny that she was attracted to him. Eve liked to think that she was in control of her own destiny that her life unfolded, as she willed not according to the whims of fate.  The old man said that they were husband and wife in that distant life and Eve remembered her vision and how it had felt that one vital element was missing when she had been bombarded by those strange images. 
 
She heard the creak of the door and knew instinctively that it would be Aaron behind her.  While she fought the growing feelings for him, Eve’s own intuition was capable of telling her that Aaron cared for her almost as deeply.  However, he did not seem to have any trouble with the notion that they were destined for each other.  It was strange how men could sometimes be more romantic than women about such things. 

“If you rather be alone, I’ll leave,” Aaron offered when Eve looked over her shoulder to see him emerging from the lodge with two mugs of steaming hot chocolate. 

“Some psychiatrist,” Eve snorted, “don’t you know you’re not suppose to approach a woman with chocolate unless you mean to give to her?”

Aaron chuckled, “sorry I slept that day in class,” he replied handing the mug.

“You put marshmallow in it,” she noted with a raised brow.

“Well I didn’t say I was completely ignorant,” he grinned sitting down next to her on the step.

“Thanks,” she smiled at him as she nursed the warm cup in her hands. 

“What are you doing out here?” Aaron asked, although he could venture a guess. She was a strong woman accustomed to being in control of her situation, however the events of late were enough to shake the foundations of even the most centred person and he could see that she was struggling to cope with everything that they had recently learnt about the world and each other.  

“Just taking a breather,” she replied, “its not every day I teach a bunch of elves and a psychiatrist to shoot a gun.”

Aaron could sense it was more than that.  He was certain her need for adjustment had to do more with learning that in their previous lives, they were husband and wife.  As much amusement Aaron had drawn out of the revelation at the time, he was just as overwhelmed as she was about the whole notion.  It was telling that neither of them had asked Moses or Legolas to relate the details of that past relationship. Aaron knew he was attracted to Eve but he did not know that he could love her.  This news of their love in the past made it difficult to admit any feelings for each other in the present.   If something was to happen between them, Aaron wished it to occur naturally, not because either of them believed it was some preordained destiny that they were meant to be.

“Want to talk about it?” He asked with genuine concern.

“Is that a professional inquiry?” Eve met his gaze with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“Well I can go find a couch if you like but I was just asking as a friend,” Aaron retorted.

“Okay,” Eve replied a little admonished by her acerbic behaviour, “I’ll withdraw to the 39th parallel. I’m sorry, I am just a feeling a little displaced at the moment.”

 “I understand,” Aaron said in turn, making the statement as more than just a psychiatrist but as someone who was just as overwhelmed as she by all the things that had happened to them in the last two days. “I learn to shoot a gun today.  Do you know how far away that is from what I am?”

“You learnt quickly,” she replied encouragingly, aware of how difficult it was for him to set aside his natural aversion to using weapons of any kind.   “And you don’t have to use it just because you know how.”

It was one of the qualities about Aaron that Eve liked, the fact that he did not wish to hurt anyone really.  In the police force, it was ultimate blunt force that got things done, even more than talking and Eve wished it were different.  Since the destruction of the World Trade Centre, the notion of talking first and acting later had been forgotten in the post traumatic grief shared by the police and other law enforcement agencies.  There was this underlying belief among all of them that they had failed the community when they were unable to prevent the tragedy. 

“I know,” he said confidently, “just like I know we’ll get through this. You know why?” 

“Why?” She asked smiling, encouraged by his confidence. 

“Because I’m a brilliant psychiatrist and you got more guns in the trunk of yours than the men of Desert Storm,” he grinned.

Eve laughed and did not resist when she felt his arm drape over her shoulder in gesture of affection. It was meant to be purely innocent but the touch of him was electric and suddenly Eve found herself thinking how nice it was to feel him so close to her.  She felt the shudder ripple slightly through him as if he had felt it just as potently as her.  Eve raised her eyes to Aaron’s and saw the cocky expression on his face had given away to a more intense emotion.  

She did not pull away when he lowered his lips to her, did not resist as he kissed her tentatively at first. Eve closed her eyes and felt her mouth opening beneath his, entering the strange limbo that existed between men and women when that first intimate hurdle had been breached. The pause when either were undecided upon whether or not this was where they wanted the relationship to go or was it possible to pull back and salvage what was by sacrificing what might be. 

All that was washed away when Aaron reacted to the consent given by her parting lips by kissing her more intently.  She tasted far sweeter than anything ever had in his life and he wanted to savour every bit of her. His kiss was exploratory for he was so lost in the scent and taste of her that he wanted to relish every moment of the experience.  Anything more passionate could come later when they were both ready for it and the psychiatrist in the back of his mind, seemed to believe they were not.  Instead, Aaron basked in the texture of her lips, the soft sigh in the back of her throat as she surrendered a little of herself to him and the slight hint of perfume that would brand itself into his mind as her scent. 

She tasted like marshmallows, he thought absurdly.

Eve was afraid of becoming a slave to fate but it was hard to think when the touch of him was so dizzying. She was not the kind of female that fell easily under the spell of a man. In fact, the last six months of dates had been wholly unimpressive and even then, the intimacy had been more than this simple kiss.  However, as she felt his lips tasting her as if she were something wonderful, Eve could not help but delight in how he was making her feel. Her pulse was quickening as she allowed him to explore her mouth, taking in everything that he was in a single breath of air. 

When they pulled away from each other, there was no embarrassment or regret, just the warmth of knowing that they could feel deeply for each other and a willingness to let those emotions take them where it may, without the notions of destiny or any past connection. Eve rested her head against his shoulder while they took in the beauty of the night, neither said little and were perfectly contented with their unspoken understanding with Aaron deciding that cosmic turntables were not such bad things after all.

 ************\r\n\r\n


It was a hope borne out of desperation that forced Sandra Collins to return to Aaron Stone’s apartment again.  

They had left McCaughley’s house a flaming pyre of ash when they were finished with it and Sandra was feeling just enough vitriol to issue the same order for the doctor’s abode.  So far, there had been no indication where the duo would have escaped to with the patient.  Mr Malcolm was becoming more irate at the growing escalation of the problem.  Sandra had no desire to face his wrath if his desire for a speedy resolution to this situation was not met soon.  Unfortunately, Sandra was limited by how much interest she was able to show in the doctor’s disappearance. As it was, uncomfortable questions were being raised about why the respected head of psychiatric at major city hospital had stolen a patient and fled his home.

She came to his apartment, hoping to find something and found it almost as useful as McCaughley’s late home.  Barry and his men were ransacking the place, trying to find some clue as to where the doctor might have gone and Sandra was starting to consider that there might be nothing here to find.  As she walked through the doctor’s study while the rest of the apartment was alive with the sound of drawers and cupboards doors being pulled open, Sandra scanned the room for anything useful. She had almost given up when something caught her eye at the corner of the desk.

“Barry!” She called out sharply.

Within seconds, the tall man was at her side, puzzlement on his face.  “Yes ma’am?”

Sandra did not answer immediately. Her gaze was too affixed upon a framed picture of Aaron Stone and the late Stuart Farmer standing in what appeared to be the country, proudly displaying their fishing rods, with the outline of a mountain in the backdrop. 

She looked at him after a moment and ordered, “find out where this is.”


Chapter 8 - Belly of the Beast

“No,” Elladan looked at Aaron critically, disliking how the human was holding the sword in his hand and strode towards him.

Aaron did not know why the elves were so insistent on teaching him how to use a sword.  After all, the likelihood of his ever needing to use one in this day and age was remote when guns were available so freely. Not that Aaron felt that he would ever get accustomed to using them even if Eve had begrudgingly admitted that he seemed to have a knack for handling the weapons.  Eve claimed he had a marksman’s eye, a compliment Aaron did not know if he ought to be grateful for or not.  He was a doctor and the idea of taking life was reprehensible to him. 

“I show,” Elladan muttered as he took Aaron’s hand and showed him the correct way to brandish the elegantly crafted sword.   

“For a guy who never heard English until a few days ago, you’re pretty bossy,” Aaron complained. 

Inwardly, he was rather impressed by the learning capacity of these elves that had picked up enough words to be able to carry out limited conversation in so short a time.  Although they relied heavily on Moses to translate more complex sentences, the elves had reached a point where they were able to communicate with some effectiveness.  Through Moses’ translation, Aaron learnt that the elves were the first sentient beings created by their gods to be able to speak.  In the beginning, they called themselves the Quendi “those who could speak with voices”.  Their greatest gift to the world was the teaching of language to the other races, including the humans.   Their ability to learn new languages quickly stemmed from this ancient predisposition towards speech.

“Elrohir, show him,” Elladan said to his brother in elvish before turning to Aaron and speaking in English, “you see.”

“Fine,” Aaron frowned as Elrohir showed him the proper way to swing the blade.  

The elf managed it smoothly, as if it were the movement of an elaborate dance.  Aaron could not imagine how anyone could look graceful with a sword especially when he felt so clumsy.  Legolas gave him a sympathetic look and Aaron wondered how it was that Legolas did not feel inclined to show him some archery skills.  He wished he could have asked the elf about it but unfortunately he would need Moses for that and Aaron had a sense that the elf’s answer would be somewhat personal.

“You do,” Elladan ordered once again as Elrohir held still and waited for Aaron to raise his sword.

No sooner than he had raised his weapon, the elf lunged and Aaron had to retreat a few steps before he was able to block the sword that swung at him.  The lessons that had been drilled into his head the last two days returned to him with a vengeance and though he was not quite as proficient with it as he was with a gun, Aaron was able to hold his own with some measure of skill.  Unfortunately, he had a feeling that Elrohir was taking it easy on him during this sparring session.  However, Aaron believed that the purpose of the exercise was to make him comfortable with handling a sword. 

Aaron felt like he was playing Luke Skywalker and tried to improvise. He soon learnt that movies did not have one iota of truth when his recreation of the fictional Jedi’s moves landed left him unable to defend himself against one of the simpler manoeuvres of swordplay.  He was backtracking again, this time barely avoiding the thrusts of Elrohir’s sword.  Deciding that Luke Skywalker did not know squat about handling a light sabre, Aaron employed some of the manoeuvres he had been taught and found that he was able to able to provide some form of challenge towards the elf who had faster and better reflexes than him. He managed his own but the deviation from what was taught left him open for an aggressive attack and he was driven to the ground.

“Idiot!” Elladan declared.

Aaron stared at him from the dirt, “idiot?  Let me guess, Eve taught you that one?” 

“Do I show, not this!” Elladan repeated one of Luke’s more fanciful moods that had allowed Elrohir to get the advantage.

“It worked with Darth Vader,” Aaron tried to defend himself but felt incredibly stupid nevertheless.

”Enough,” Legolas spoke up in elvish as he approached Aaron, extending a hand to the fallen doctor.  

“He needs to learn how to fight,” Elladan reminded. “If we are to face Melkor then he must know how to defend himself.  He is no good to us in the condition he is in.”

“He is a healer,” Legolas retorted, helping Aaron to his feet. “Can you not see how difficult it is for him to pick up a weapon? This is a different world then the one we knew.  People do not need to defend themselves as they once did.  They have people like Eve to do that for them.  You yourself told me that he is not the Aragorn we knew, he is a hundred millennia from being that man.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Elladan sighed.

”Besides,” Elrohir added, “you’ve seen their weapons. I do not know how useful learning swordcraft will be to him.  Melkor will use weapons that are effective to him and if those, what did Eve call them?”

“Guns,” Legolas said helpfully.

“If those guns are even half as dangerous as we’ve seen, then it is likely that those are the weapons he would employ,” the elf concluded.

“I know,” Elladan gazed at Aaron thoughtfully, “I am so accustomed to seeing Estel fight with the sword. He was one of the greatest swordsmen in Middle earth.”

“The greatest,” Legolas corrected. “However, that time is past.  This may be Aragorn’s soul but the memory of that man does not exist in him.”

“You know it’s not polite to speak in a different language in front of someone who can’t understand a word you’re saying?” Aaron replied, giving all three a look. 

“Rest now,” Elladan came forward and took the blade from him. “Do later more.”

“Do more later,” Aaron corrected, feeling just snide enough to point out some of the elf’s deficiencies after the bruising his ego had taken during the lesson. 

“Yes, yes,” Elladan said dismissively.

“Go drink,” Legolas replied, glancing in the direction of the house. “Coke.”

 “No,” Aaron shook his head. “Bad for you.” He punctuated each word with translating finger. 

Legolas was about to argue when suddenly, he turned sharply away from Aaron and stared at the lodge in the distance.    Aaron had taken them to the river and shown around the woods surrounding Bear Mountain prior to their lesson and instead of returning to the lodge, they had chosen to continue his instruction on its banks.  From the clearing near the embankment, they were given a good view of the lodge which allowed them to feel a little more secure about leaving Eve and Moses alone.  However, Aaron could tell immediately by the reaction shown so abruptly by Legolas that something was wrong.  It did not make Aaron feel any better to see Elladan and Elrohir react in almost the same manner.  

“What is it?” Aaron asked, his eyes instinctively searching for the gun that Eve insisted he carry at all times.  He had put it down earlier when his lesson began but the look on Legolas’ face had prompted him to find it. 

“Danger,” Legolas replied softly. “Near.”

Aaron stared at him with growing alarm until he heard the gunfire and started running.

 ************\r\n\r\n

Not wishing to interrupt the whole male bonding session the boys and she was pretty certain that the term was correct even when applying it to hundred thousand year old elves, Eve had opted to remain with Moses while Aaron and the elves had left the lodge.  Personally, she could not see the logic in fighting with a sword when it was so much easier to just shoot the enemy, however, she supposed the elves had their reasons for wishing him to master the skill.  If anything, watching Aaron learn how to wield a sword was quite entertaining although she was certain her amusement at the learning process would hinder his progress somewhat. 

Although Moses was drugged, he was still quite conversant and Eve found herself growing fond of the old man in their subsequent conversations.  The Thorazine kept him from becoming violent and when given the adequate dosage was enough to kerb his hallucinations to a tolerable state.  Eve wondered what John Malcolm or Melkor as she come to understand it now, had done to him.  According the elves, Moses had been a hero who had saved them all on numerous occasions.  Eve felt rather incensed that his service was repaid by having his mind tampered in such a manner.

She knew part of the reason she warmed so quickly to Moses was because he reminded her a little of her father.  He had the senior McCaughley’s crusty manner and had a cynical opinion on everything which Eve confessed she shared.  However, on occasion, she saw that he could be quite insightful and understood why it was Aaron had grown so fond of him and was determined to help Moses at all costs. 

Of course Aaron was one subject that Eve tried not to think about too deeply.  

The night before had seen them cross a line with each other and Eve knew instinctively that there was no going back. If she was not in love with him, she soon would be and that disturbed her a little, despite how right it felt to be in his arms or to feel his lips against hers.  She wanted to love him but she wished it were not some preordained thing written in the stars long before they had ever met.  The romantic in her should be rejoicing at this but she was a woman of her times and it was difficult to cope despite her feelings for him.   

“You are quiet,” Moses remarked as they sat across each other at the stained wood dining table playing a hand of gin.

“I thought you would prefer someone who didn’t say much compared to someone who’s always asking you questions,” she remarked discarding her unwanted cards.

“I’m afraid I’ve grown accustomed to his probing questions,” Moses declared with a little smile.

“Yeah,” Eve nodded contemplatively. “He does grow on you.”

“Apparently so,” the old man raised a bushy eyebrow and gave her a conspiratory wink. 

“Have you been eavesdropping?” Eve stared at him hard. 

“Well you were out there on the porch for quite some time,” Moses said innocently, “one could not help but notice.”

“Snoop,” she accused.

“I have no memories of myself, I must take an interest in the affairs of others,” he added playfully.

“Well there’s no affair,” Eve said firmly, “we were just talking.”  Of course, her story would have sounded more believable if her cheeks had not flushed red with embarrassment.

“Elves have good hearing,” Moses added, “they did not hear much speech being conducted.”

“You are a malicious old man with too much time on your hands” Eve retorted, dropping her cards on the table and stared at him hard, her cheeks turning an even deeper shade of crimson.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of,” Moses said gently not at all perturbed by her remark, “I see how he looks at you.”

“He hardly knows me,” Eve reminded.  

“Does it matter? Souls know each other,” he pointed out. 

Eve did not know what to say to that and opted for a convenient silence as they continued with their game of cards.  Eve was embarrassed that the others were aware of what had transpired between Aaron and her the night before. Even though their intimacy was no more than a few exploratory kisses, Eve was still a little uncertain of her feelings towards the doctor. Everything was moving at a faster pace that what she was accustomed to.  However, she had no desire to discuss it with anyone until she herself was capable of making an informed decision about their growing relationship.    

However, any further rumination on the subject was shattered when the glass of a window shattered quite spectacularly. The bullet responsible for the destruction moved soundlessly through the room before striking a wall.  

“Moses, get down!” She ordered, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the floor. 

More soundless bullets tore through the air, giving themselves away by the windows it broke upon invading the room. Objects shattered noisily throughout the living room space as the bullets tore through windows, picture frames, furniture and virtually anything that was in its path. Eve and Moses dropped to the floor, with the policewoman upending the table that they had been sitting at to its side so that they could take refuge behind its broad surface.  She pulled out her Barretta while she and Moses remained trapped behind the table, unable to move because the onslaught of bullets left them pinned.

“You should leave me,” Moses spoke over the din of breaking objects, “this only came about because of me.”

“I would not be so sure about that,” Eve retorted and emerged over the table to start shooting herself. 

She could not see their attackers as she let loose a hail of bullets but she could tell which direction they were coming from.  Her efforts earned her an even deadlier barrage that forced Eve back behind the table once again unable to offer more than incidental fire to aid their situation.  She knew their strategy and Even knew that if she did not find someway to leave the kill zone the lodge had become, they were going to be overwhelmed in a matter of minutes.  

“We have to get out of here,” she cried out, her eyes moving to the door.

“That will not be easy considering our present circumstances,” Moses pointed out as a matter of factly.

“No kidding,” Eve said sarcastically. “Look, when I stand up to shoot, I want you to run like hell for the door.”

“At my age, that is easier said then done,” Moses retorted but his reluctance was due to a desire not to leave her. 

“You’re going to try nevertheless,” she said abruptly. “On the count of three, you go! Understand me?” Eve glared at him.

“I do this under protest,” Moses returned unhappily.  

“One,” Eve shot him a look that ordered him to get ready to run. 

Moses swallowed thickly and braced himself for the speedy departure even though he was torn between obeying her and leaving her to languish alone.  None of this would be happening if it was not for him. Aaron had already lost a friend because of the doctor’s fierce desire to protect him, Moses did not want anyone else to lose their lives because of him.

“Two,” Eve’s voice hissed in his ear.

“Maybe I should…..”

“THREE!” Eve shouted. “GO!” 

Her words sent him running forward as Eve stood up from behind her hiding place and emptied and entire magazine through the windows where most of the bullets were coming.  Glass that was already damaged exploded as Moses crouched low and raced across the debris-covered floor, towards the door.  Eve continued to fire, her face turning away slightly as the erupting sound of gunfire filled the air almost as destructively as the bullets tearing apart everything. 

Eve did not stop firing until she saw the old man escape out the door and as soon as he did vanish from sight, Eve scrambled back behind the table and released the spent magazine from the chamber of her gun. The shooting had stopped but Eve did not feel comforted by that fact since it was most likely due to the enemy knowing that she had to reload her gun.  Emerging from her hiding place, Eve moved towards the chest where the rest of her ammunition was kept. 

She did not make it any more than a few steps when smashing through the already fragmented glass of the window, were three men.  The men were dressed in black and rolled across the floor as they made their dramatic entry. Eve paused long enough to be startled by their arrival but was racing towards the trunk for her spare ammunition less than a split second later.  Unfortunately, they moved with surprising speed and one of them launched himself at her in a full body tackle.  Eve let out a short cry as she hit the floor hard, pain flaring through her side as she was lacerated by debris of glass and wooden splinters. Her gun flew out of her hand and Eve made a frantic lunge to retrieve it when she felt herself being dragged back by her attacker.

She reacted swiftly, her foot kicking out and making contact with his jaw.  She saw another approaching her fast and realised that she would have to deal with him first before she could even think about getting her gun. Getting quickly to her feet, she met his approach with a sharp kick to the sternum which sent him sprawling.  He crashed into a chair that was not yet reduced to splinters and toppled both it and himself.  Eve turned around and saw that the man with the bleeding mouth was on his feet and about to throw a punch. She ducked as his fist flew, sliding beneath the swerve of his arm to throw her elbow into his side and delivering a back kick. 

The third man appeared and he had a gun, however, he was slow to target her and she kicked high, tearing the weapon from his hands before she threw a fist in his face.  He clutched his bleeding nose in pain as Eve retreated from him, only to find a set of arms wrapping themselves firmly around her waste.  The policewoman had still considerable fight in her and as she struggled to break free, she raised her legs off the force and pushed hard against a nearby wooden beam. The force of the sudden backward propulsion made her attacker stumble and her struggles only served to further unbalance him. They both fell to the floor in an unceremonious heap. 

Eve recovered first, getting to her feet quickly as she found herself quickly being surrounded as more men filtered into the room.  Despite the odds, she was prepared to fight them all because she was not going to be taken easily.  She only hoped that she had distracted them long enough for Moses to escape their clutches.  As they advanced upon her, Eve braced herself for a fight when suddenly, something sharp pierced the skin on her back. She let out a soft cry of irritation as her hands flew to the source of the pain and found that something was protruding from her flesh. Eve wrapped her hand around the cold metal object and tore it from her skin.  

“Oh hell,” Eve swore as she saw the object for the first time.

It was a tranquilliser dart.

Even as the thought formed in her mind, she felt her legs become weak and her head beginning to swim.  She threw the dart away, deciding quickly that the only thing to do in a situation like this was to run.  However, she was capable of no more than a step before her legs gave out and she was driven to her knees.  A wave of nausea overwhelmed her as the room began to spin, the faces closing in on her melted into a blur of colour until she could distinguish nothing.  Even voices were disjointed and Eve’s last thought before the darkness claimed her was a silent pray that Aaron had escaped.

 ************\r\n\r\n

Unfortunately, Moses did emerge from the encounter in any better condition than Eve.  

After the old man had made good his escape through the door, thanks to Eve’s efforts to see him safely out of the lodge, he found his actions had already been pre-empted by those who were attempting to capture him.  A group of men in dark clothes were awaiting him, led by a handsome blond woman who appeared familiar to him, though he did not know why.  He was certain they had crossed paths before though he could not remember when that might have been.  Moses soon decided that it was a question for another time as the enemy had him surrounded and he should take flight before they sealed of any more avenues for his escape, if it was not already too late. 

Moses thought the men might try to rush him and was quickly thinking of a way to get past them when suddenly one of them raised a weapon at him and fired.  At first, the old man thought it might be a gun but in the split second before the trigger was pulled, he realised that it was not that all.  The dart struck him in the chest and Moses could only look at it in astonishment as he felt the pain of its penetration replaced by a radiating warmth across his body.  His head felt heavy as Moses forced himself to move but the concoction weighted his limbs and he was unaware that he had fallen until the dirt scraped his cheek.

Through the haze of his perception, he heard a decidedly feminine voice speaking and her words were the last thing he knew before his world faded into the darkness.

 “Take him.”

***********


“What about Doctor Stone?” Barry asked Sandra once they had returned to their limousine.

With Moses and officer McCaughley drugged and suitably restrained in the van behind them, Sandra wanted to return quickly to the Malcolm Building before anything else hampered their progress. If there was one thing she had learnt by now, it was never to take chances.  Doctor Stone was a mere hindrance, a person who needed eliminating, nothing more and that could be done at any time.  The real prize in her possession was Doctor Stone’s patient, Moses as he was called though Sandra was perfectly aware of what his real name was and had been for some time.  She was especially proud that along with the capture of Moses, Eve McCaughley was also in their possession.  

Sandra was aware that Malcolm was impressed by the woman when she had come to the Monolith to investigate Richard Falstaff’s death.  She supposed that if Malcolm wanted another conquest, Detective McCaughley, who was not exactly unattractive, would suit his purposes.  Malcolm had a taste for beautiful women and though he did not always use them to create his next body,  Sandra had been more than accustomed over the years to clean up after him when he was finished with them. As one who had been on the receiving end of his sexual appetites, she was rather grateful she had grown too old to inspire his attention in that regard.

Sandra saw Bear Mountain falling further and further behind them in the window before she deigned to answer her junior associate.  “He’ll be along shortly, I think.”

“You think so?” Barry looked at her with some measure of surprise as he ran his fingers along a long, wooden object in his hand. 

“Yes,” Sandra smiled knowingly, “Doctor Stone sees himself as the protector of the innocent and his sense of outrage at Stuart Farmer’s death ensures that he will come to the Monolith in an ill advised effort to rescue his patient and Officer McCaughley.”

“He’s just a shrink,” Barry said dubiously. “What’s he going to do? Analyse us into letting them go?” The man smirked with derision.

“Let’s just say I have a feeling about Doctor Stone,” Sandra realised before she noticed what he was running his fingers over.  “What is that you’re playing with?” 

“I found one of this on the floor of the lodge,” Barry remarked, hoping she was not going to disapprove because he had helped himself to a little souvenir.  “It’s an arrow.  It looks old so I figured its must be one of them old Indian ones. There were a few of them on the floor and since we shot up the place I don’t think anyone is really going to miss it.” 

There was just enough hint of defensiveness in his voice to indicate to Sandra that he felt just a little guilty about stealing but then the moral conundrum seemed out of place considering the man had just been in charge of kidnapping two people.

Sandra took the arrow away from him, examining the tapered shaft and the exquisitely forged arrowhead. There were intricate designs on both the wood and the metal, designs that looked familiar to something she had seen in Malcolm’s private study in his penthouse. 

“I think Mr Malcolm needs to have a look at this,” she replied, troubled even if she did not know why. “I am sure you won’t mind sacrificing it will you Barry?” She stared at him.

Barry swallowed and nodded. “No, ma’am.”


 ************\r\n\r\n


 By the time Aaron reached the lodge, he knew it was too late.

The gunfire had ceased and there was only silence in its wake.  Even though it was likely that they were waiting for him to arrive, Aaron could not bring himself to heed caution.  After losing Stuart, the possibility that Eve and Moses might be taken from him in the same manner paralysed his reasoning. He heard Elladan calling after him but Aaron did not pause to answer the elf.  He could not when his worst fears were being realised like bile forcing its way up his throat. 

Legolas kept pace next to him, refusing to let Aaron out of his sight despite the foolishness of the human’s advance towards the lodge.  Save of shooting him with an arrow, Legolas knew that the healer was going to let nothing stand in his way of reaching the people he cared about.  Legolas marvelled at how easy it was for him to fall into old habits now that he once again found himself at Aragorn’s side. True, Aaron was a far different person than the King of Gondor but to Legolas, Aaron was still the friend with whom he had shared the best moments of his life.

Legolas was not blind to the growing affection between Aaron and Eve.  He was really surprised that they had not found each other sooner than this.  Seeing them together again was like seeing a vision of the past and though both had tried to keep their distance, there was no denying the fact that each had recognised the great love they had once felt for each other. Even if they were determined to approach each other cautiously, there was no denying the intensity of what they felt, even to the people around them.

Aaron’s heart was pounding as he crossed the distance between the woods and the lodge in record time. As it came closer into view, he could see the broken windows and the holes where gunfire had torn at the wood. His breath caught as he slowed his pace. However, Aaron refused to turn back even if it was a trap.  He told himself that Eve was more than capable of protecting herself and Moses if need be but the shocking number of bullet holes across the walls of the lodge made that hope vanish into a deep well of despair.  

Nothing was as disturbing however, as the sound of silence.

He could only hear his breathing as he approached the lodge and saw through the windows that the inside of the building was just as ravaged as its exterior.  His instincts told him that they were alone, that Sandra Collins had taken what she wanted and had left.  The door to the lodge was ajar and when Aaron pushed it open, he saw shafts of light crisscrossing the room through holes left by bullet.  There was little that was not destroyed by the barrage of ammunition and Aaron treaded carefully as he avoided fragments of glass, ceramic, splintered wood and other ruined remains.

He did not see either Eve or Moses.

He searched the debris, his eyes moving across the destroyed sanctuary as he tried to find Eve and Moses in this mess and swiftly came to the conclusion that there was nothing to find.  After all the trouble Sandra Collins had gone through to acquire Moses, she would not be foolish enough to risk killing him.  Aaron’s stomach hollowed when he realised that he was not as sure whether or not that consideration would extend to Eve.

“They’re gone,” Aaron said softly, not caring or not whether Legolas understood him.

 “Yes,” Legolas nodded, sensing the danger had passed even though their situation was still dire.

“Why did she take Eve?” Aaron asked out loud, not expecting an answer.  It did not make sense that Sandra Collins should take Eve along with Moses.  If anything, Aaron would think it was expedient to get rid of the policewoman, not leave her alive as a witness to what Malcolm Industries had been up to.

“They’ve been taken,” Legolas glanced over his shoulder and told Elladan and Elrohir when the brothers finally caught up to them.

“Taken? Both of them?” Elrohir said with some measure of confusion. “Why? It does not serve Melkor to take Eve since only Mithrandir is a danger to him.”

“I do not know,” Legolas shook his head, “it worries me nonetheless.”

Elladan saw the damage done to the room and had to admit that he did not like these guns that the human were so accustomed to calling their weapons of choice.  It seemed like such an indiscriminate killer where it was easy for innocent bystanders to be hurt in the crossfire. Swords and arrows ensured that only the intended target was harmed, not anyone else who happened to be in the immediate vicinity.

“I hope she is still alive,” Elladan found himself saying. “I do not wish her harmed when we only just found her.”

“We do not know that she is dead,” Elrohir returned sharply, frightened by the possibility himself. Even though it was obvious Eve was not the Evenstar that they had known and love, to them she would always be family because she wore their sister’s soul. 

Through all this discussion, Aaron had not spoken.  

He took a step forward, staring around the wreckage of the room in something of a daze.  Even though his blue green eyes appeared to be shifting through the damage, Aaron’s thoughts were far away from the destruction before him. If the truth were known, Aaron was on a journey.  He was on a journey that had begun with accepting a patient that should have been sent to another facility long before it ever became his personal responsibility.  It was a journey that had shattered the oh so safe boundaries of not only his world but also his beliefs.  Before all this, he had been a doctor, supremely confident in his ability, the way all doctors were, because they believed life and death was a matter for their control.

As a psychiatrist, he had been no different. It was all about control and he had believed that the way to healing a damaged mind was to control the fear that made it so, to drive it away like one would chase away disease with a  vaccine.  He wondered how many patients languished in their own private hells because doctor like him were so certain of everything that outlandish tales could not possibly construed as being true. It was easier to say that they were the result of a sick mind rather than to admit the possibility it might be true. When he had first sat across Moses, he had thought that way. He had thought  Moses was delusional. Now he knew better.

If he were to bring his story to any of his colleagues, Aaron was certain they would be fitting him for his very own straightjacket.

He had walked into this like a complete novice, without having any clue as to what he was facing, assuming that Moses was insane, bringing Stuart into a world so dark that he had been killed for it.  He had been stumbling through this thing like a child scratching away at the dark even though all the pieces were there in front of him, pieces he did not wish to see until he had unleashed the truth and had no other choice but to believe.  Even then, he had still acted like a fool.  Stuart was dead and Aaron still had no idea what he was facing. All he knew how to run and he was not even very good at that because it took Eve to save his life.  He rewarded her by dragging her into this mess and now Malcolm Industries had both her and Moses in their clutches.    

Moses had trusted Aaron. He had allowed the doctor access to his inner most demons despite the danger and Eve had been foolish enough to believe him when Aaron said he would protect her.  He had protected nothing and he had lost them both.

No more.  

Aaron was not going to let Malcolm, Melkor or whatever the hell he was called, have either of them.  Aaron had been doing nothing but reacting to his situation since it began, running on defensive instead of offensive because there was a part of him that did not want to believe that Moses was not human, that elves could exist or in another life he had been a king.  None of these things had seemed real to him, even after he had seen what Moses was capable of or when he met Legolas and the others.  He had half expected to wake up from this dream and find everything back the way it was. 

It had only become real to him the first time he kissed Eve.

When their lips touched for the first time, he knew without doubt or reservation that he had been waiting for her all his life.  

There is a part of humanity that exists beneath the insecurities of modern day living, beneath decades of layered social and cultural doctrine that disconnects human beings from the ability to recognise what they truly needed instead of what they believe society expected of them. It is the curse of modern man to be saddled with neuroses that form because the repression of feeling creates walls inside the mind that are sometimes too complex to navigate and detract from real desires. 

When Aaron kissed Eve for the first time, the impossibility of reincarnation and the fact that they had known each other in a previous life had simply bled away into nothingness because he knew, he knew absolutely and completely that he loved her, that he had always loved her.  It screamed through the walls of his belief like a banshee’s wail and shattered the fixed notions that everything that made him love her was impossible or could not be. 

For once in his life, he knew with more certainty than he had ever known anything that she was the woman he loved.  Once he was able to believe that without doubt, it was  easy to believe the rest as well. 

And for the first time, Aaron knew what to do. 

It had been so simple if only he had opened his mind enough to consider it. He was going to get Eve back and he was going to cure Moses. All of it was within his reach because he believed it was.

“We have to go,” Aaron stared at Legolas. 

Legolas knew what ‘go’ meant but he was rather alarmed at where Aaron thought he was going. If he intended to pursue the Evenstar and Mithrandir, Legolas would accompany without hesitation however, one simply did not attempt to confront an evil like Melkor without some sort of strategy. 

“Go?” Legolas looked at Aaron in question.

“We’re going to get Eve and Moses,” Aaron repeated.

“Danger,” Elladan reminded.

“Yes,” Aaron nodded, understanding the reason for their caution but they had run out of time. “Trust me,” he said.

“Trust?” Legolas did not understand.

Aaron wished he could speak their language but opted for the best that he could.  He took Legolas’ hand within his while tapping his chest at the same time and spoke to the elf firmly; hoping the sentiment behind the word would explain its meaning, “trust me,” he repeated himself.

It took few seconds for Legolas to comprehend but when he did, the elf broke into a little smile and answered with a slight nod, “trust.”

Aaron looked at Elladan and Elrohir, asking the same question with the same gestures and receiving the same response. He needed their help. He could not do this without them.  However, if they were going into the belly of the beast, he would need more than their trust if any of them to come out of this alive. 

They were going to have fight fire with fire.

 ************\r\n\r\n

One of the advantages of being a psychiatrist in a large city hospital with no paying clients as such and most of his patients coming to him by the way of the New York City Police was the occasional criminal element that he was forced to evaluate. 

When a young Italian teenager named Luciano Dede claiming to hear voices was arrested for knifing a schoolteacher during class, the police was forced to bring him to the psychiatric for evaluation. Even though NYPD was sceptical about the boy’s allegations particularly since he came from a family with links to the Mob, the doctor had nevertheless conducted the examination with an open mind. Aaron had found that the boy was suffering symptoms of growing schizophrenia that could not be faked and had recommended he receive treatment.

While the police had been unhappy with his findings, Aaron had nonetheless stood by his report and the boy was sent to a private hospital to receive proper care. Within days of Luciano being removed from the hospital, Aaron had received a visit from a man called Vito Andretti.  Andretti had been polite, thanking him for his fair evaluation of the boy and then remarked that should Aaron ever need a favour, to not hesitate calling.

Aaron had thought little of it until he learned through reading the  Sunday paper some months later that Andretti was supposedly the consigliore of the Dede family.   The doctor considered himself fortunate to walk away from the encounter unscathed and had resolved never to call in that favour.

Until now.

“So what’s a high price college boy like you want with stuff like this?” The rather overweight man with a balding head and a thick Jersey accent asked Aaron after he and Legolas entered the cavernous warehouse in the seamier part of town.

“Fishing,” Aaron said shortly, marvelling at the completely illegal merchandise in the store and wondering what kind of clientele this place usually had.  

“Fishing?” He looked like Aaron.

“Yeah, I got tired of using flies to lure the fish. I figure a little C4 should bring them up to the surface a lot easier.”

The man uttered a laugh through his cigar and Aaron saw Legolas wince at the smells emanating through the place.  Aaron was glad that he told Elladan and Elrohir to watch the car because he felt sorry for Legolas and his superior sense of smell.  Aaron was certain that their esteemed host had no idea that showering was meant to be a daily experience.  Legolas’ demeanour was not helped by the fact that the warehouse was sectioned by rows and rows of steel shelves housing all kinds of dangerous weapons and made one feel as if they were wandering a maze. Since the establishment was illegal, most of the lights were kept dim, promoting the illusion that the warehouse was abandoned. 

“You’re real funny Doc,” the man remarked and then added, “seriously though, you gotta be careful with this stuff.  You remember when they blew up the towers? This could potentially do the same if you know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t,” Aaron replied sincerely, “I just want something that will go off without me being near it and when I want it to.”

”I don’t want to know what you want it for,” the man named Nicky retorted. “But I can help you. We got remote detonators here.  You can set the charges off from a mile away. Watch the fireworks from your penthouse even.”

“If that means it will blow up if I press a button, that’s good,” Aaron replied.

Suddenly Legolas paused and reached for something on the shelf. 

“Hey don’t be touching that,” Nicky retorted seeing what he was about to do. “That’s stuff’s dangerous.”

Legolas stopped what he was doing but he was looking at his discovery with interest as well as a determination to have a closer look at it.

Aaron stared at Nicky, “what are you kidding? Everything in here is dangerous.”

“Well that’s dangerous and expensive,” Nicky grumbled as he saw the tall blond man pick up the object and examined it closer.

Aaron could see why it had captured Legolas’ interest so.  The arrow shaft was made from smooth aluminium-carbon with an arrowhead that did not appear to be either the broad or field type that was customary for these projectiles. If anything, it was almost conical in shape and was considerably heavier than the shaft itself. Legolas was thoroughly fascinated by the odd-looking arrow and Aaron who had seen a demonstration of his skills could appreciate his interest.

“It just looks like a regular arrow,” Aaron remarked, “except for the head.”

“That’s because they’re explosive tip,” Nicky retorted. “You shoot that in somebody’s ass and sitting down is going to be the least of their problems. You’re gonna be scraping them off the walls.”

“Explosive tips huh?” Aaron smiled deviously, his mind already envisioning how much damage the archer could do with those arrows in his arsenal. “You might as well put that on the shopping list.”

“Are you kidding? You know how much those things cost?” Nicky baulked, “I had to ship them all the way from Europe!” 

”I thought Mr Andretti said you were going to help me,” Aaron stared at him with just enough of an edge to his voice to be intimidating.  Vito Andretti had sent him to Nicky when the doctor had finally called in his favour.  When Aaron had arrived, Vito had already given these illegal arms trader orders to provide him with everything Aaron would need.

”Alright,” Nicky frowned conceding defeat. “You and your girlfriend are going send me out of business.”

“He’s not my girlfriend,” Aaron bit back.

“With that hair,” Nicky retorted, “who could tell?”

 ************\r\n\r\n

When she entered John Malcolm’s office, Sandra Collins did so with an immeasurable feeling of pride and vindication that she was able to accomplish the difficult task of recovering the greatest threat to her master’s existence with such resounding success.  With the capture of Detective McCaughley and Moses alive, Doctor Stone was more or less an after thought she could deal with at her leisure.  After all, his credibility had been destroyed the instant he had stolen a patient out of a psychiatric ward and with the exertion of Malcolm Industries formidable influence, Sandra was certain she could see to it that he never practised medicine again.  That is if she did not decide to simply kill him first.

For the moment however, she was going to relish presenting news of her success to Malcolm who had grown considerably impatient with her lack of success.  She knew from experience that he would not hesitate to remove her from her vaunted position as his trusted associate if it suited him and continued failure was not something he tolerated well.  At the very least, he could kill her.  At the very worst, he might have let live and for Sandra, who had endured the punishment for failure on numerous occasions during her tenure of service to him, rather preferred the former. 

“I trust you have good news for me,” Malcolm said looking up from the papers on his desk.  

“I have them,” she said proudly. “It was as I suspected. Doctor Stone was leasing the cabin in the area around Bear Mountain.  It took a few calls to find out exactly where.”

“And did you eliminate the dear doctor?” Malcolm asked, not really concerned by one mortal with a story so outlandish that to repeat it would most likely see the man committed himself.  It was one of the reasons Malcolm so loved the twentieth century. Humanity was terribly cynical of anything outlandish.

“He was not present but I have a feeling he will try and make some foolish attempt to rescue the old man and Detective McCaughley.  I believe he will be along soon enough,” Sandra said confidently.

“I hope that Detective McCaughley was left unspoiled?” He gave her a look of menace daring her to say any differently.

“She put up quite a fight, took down two of our people before Barry subdued her with a tranquilliser dart. After that, she was no trouble at all.”

“You’ve moved her to my suite upstairs?” Malcolm asked casually, looking forward to seeing the young woman once he was done with Sandra.

“Yes,” Sandra answered, “she is heavily sedated though so it may be a few hours before she will be awake. If that is even important?”

Malcolm met her eyes with a gaze of dark flint, “it is to me.  I like the difficult ones,” he said with a malicious smile, amused by the fact that Sandra was perfectly aware of what he was talking about.  When she was younger, he had enjoyed her so.  It was one of the reasons he kept her at his side, even when his interest in her as a sexual partner had dwindled. 

“I do seem to recall,” Sandra replied, hiding the anger in her voice at his reminder that she had been passed over.   However, she hid the emotion knowing that Malcolm would enjoy seeing her flinch. 

“I did wish to call something else to your attention however,” she spoke up after a moment in an effort to change the subject. “Barry found this at Doctor Stone’s cabin. He thought it was some kind of Indian souvenir.”

“And you don’t think so?” Malcolm replied not really interested because his thoughts were more focussed on his plans for Detective McCaughley.

“No,” Sandra strode to his desk and placed the object Barry had found across Malcolm’s desk in front of him. “I’m sure I’ve seen the design before, on some of the items you have in your penthouse.”

Malcolm was no longer listening to her.

He was not listening because his eyes were fixed on the arrow in front of him and specifically the engravings etched across the wood and upon the arrowhead.  For a  few seconds, his human body almost stopped breathing from the astonishment he was feeling.  It was a completely new experience for him to be taken so unawares and it was not one that he liked at all.

“Where did you get this?” He asked slowly, his voice taking on a manic edge that immediately forced Sandra to retreat from his desk.

“At Stone’s cabin. Barry found it among the debris,” she stammered. 

“YOU’RE LYING!” He fairly roared. 

Sandra felt herself being swept off her feet, her back slamming against the nearby wall with so much force that she thought for a moment that she had broken every bone in her body.  She let out a groan of pain as she landed face first on the hard floor, her head spinning with pain as she heard his footsteps approaching her in forceful strides. She looked up at him and saw that he was enraged. His eyes becoming dark with fury until she could no longer see the whites, only  black that seemed like infinity.

“Where did you find it?” He demanded again, holding the arrow in his hand in a tight fist. “Answer me or I’ll tear the skin from you right this minute!” 

“I swear to you!” Sandra cried out. “We found it at Stone’s cabin! There was more than one!”

“Do you know what this is?” He shouted waving it in her face as she struggled to get to her feet.

“No,” she shook her head terrified of his rage. “It looked familiar but I didn’t know what it was! I thought you might be able to recognise it!”

“The writing on this is in Quenya!” Malcolm hissed.

“What is that?” She managed to ask through her fear.

“It is a language that has not existed for almost a hundred thousand years! It is the language of the Eldar! The First Born!” Malcolm declared.

“Who?”  Sandra looked at him blankly.

”ELVES!” He shouted. “Elves!” 

“Elves?” She tried to hide the disbelief from her voice but could not quite manage it.  “How is that possible?”

“I do not know,” Malcolm said calming himself considerably, though his rage still burned white hot. “If this is here,” he glanced briefly at the arrow, “then there are elves here as well and our problem with the Maia becomes a good deal more complicated.”

“How could they hurt you?” She asked. 

Malcolm turned on her sharply, “that is not for you to know.  You will get out there and you will find Doctor Stone. It is time we met face to face. If you don’t find him, I’ll find you and believe me Sandra, you will regret it for every second of your last hours on earth. Do you understand me?” 

Sandra nodded frantically, “yes, I understand.”

She had to find Aaron Stone. She had to find him or she would end up as dead as he was going to be.


Chapter 9 - The Iron Fortress

Eve was dreaming.

Her dreams were not usually so vivid but on this occasion, it swirled around her head with such clarity that she felt almost like a participant instead of a mere spectator. She was walking along a bridge overlooking the most beautiful landscape she had ever seen. It was as if someone had taken a Monet and given it life. Pristine cascades of water flowed from mountains covered in lush shades of green. Colour filled her senses as she gazed at a sky that was vibrant with shades of blue and amber. Air that was cool and refreshing entered her lungs as she took a deep breath, so different from the dusty and chemically contaminated atmosphere of the modern world. 

Once across the bridge, Eve found herself entering a wood inhabited by magnificent looking trees, shrubs that were seemed almost alive with their bright and colourful flowers and equally exotic wildlife oblivious to her trespass in their domain.  Eve walked across the velvet like grass beneath her feet, thinking that she had wandered into a fairy tale. Every little girl who owned a Barbie had this fantasy, she thought with a hint of cynicism.  She was still admiring the unreal beauty of the place when she heard a man’s voice singing.  Strangely enough, she understood every word he was saying and sought out the voice to satisfy her curiosity.

What she found was Aaron.

At least she thought he was Aaron.  He was younger, not long out of his adolescence. She estimated that he was twenty if that.  However, it was difficult to tell because his hair was longer than what she was accustomed to seeing and he sported a beard.  His clothes reminded her a little of what the elves were wearing and he carried a sword at his hip. He raised his eyes to her and stopped singing abruptly, his gaze locked on hers for the longest time. He appeared mesmerised.

“Tinúviel, Tinúviel?” He finally called.

“No,” she shook her head, beginning to comprehend that he was not Aaron. He would not be Aaron for a hundred thousand years.  “My name is Eve.”

“Eve,” he smiled and when he did, Eve saw the Aaron she knew.

“You are?” 

“Estel I was called,” he answered, unable to move his eyes from her. 

That boyish look of adoration in his eyes was one she was starting to recognise very well. She had seen Aaron look at her in the same way, though with not as much unabashed infatuation.  She supposed he had good reason for being so damned cocky, Eve thought with a frown as she remembered how confident Aaron had been around her, he probably has it as bad as this kid and had fate on his side.

“Who is Luthien?” She asked

He stared at her with surprise but then proceeded to relate the tale of Beren and Luthien, lovers who had endured all kinds of terrible trials to be together, even though she was an elf and he was human. As Eve listened, she realised that Undomiel, the Evenstar that Elladan kept referring to, was an elf and Aragorn who was her husband was human.  Had this been where it began for the two of them? Would the odyssey that would see them finding each other a hundred thousand years in the future begin here? There was something about this moment that felt like a turning point.  Her dreams had brought her to this place, like it was bringing her to the so many others of late, even in waking dreams.   It was as if her subconscious mind was prompting her to remember the person she had been.

Had she loved him so much that she was willing to die for him? To give up the immortality that was the due of all elves, to live out a human existence that was savagely short in comparison?  Eve looked at the young man staring at her, who would go on to be a king and a healer and knew instinctively, that what he would become in the future was because he loved the woman called Undomiel.  Eve was glad that Undomiel had loved him just as much and she reached for him, her hand caressing his cheek as she felt another pang of need for Aaron.  Even though this boy looked like him, Eve knew that this was not her Aaron.  

She was still thinking this when, the world around started to collapse around her.

“Eve…” she heard him cry out with alarm but he and his voice became distant as she was ripped away from his world forever.
 ************\r\n\r\n


“Aaron!” 

Eve shouted as she woke up with a start.

For a moment, she could only lay there breathing hard as her mind acclimated her to the fact that she was very much in the waking world again and not some fairy tale world of the past.  However, once this realisation settled upon Eve, her memories of this reality returned with a vengeance and everything that occurred prior to her falling into darkness swept through her mind with the force of a tidal wave.  Everything that had happened to her, the attack on the lodge, the dart she felt in her back and the blackness that overwhelmed her flashed through her mind in a split second and drove the hard edge of fear into her being. 

Her first impulse was to jump out off the bed but that thought was soon quashed when she took stock how she felt.  She also noticed that she was no longer wearing her own clothes and was wearing a thin silk nightgown that sent a blush of colour to her cheeks when she realised that someone would have had to undress her to put the thing on. The effects of the tranquilliser dart had yet to wear off and she could feel the heaviness in her limbs and the slight dizziness as she attempted to ease off the bed. Realising that she would get only worsen her situation by making an ill advised attempt to escape, Eve chose instead to take stock of her surroundings and regain her faculties before considering her next move. 

Her eyes swept around the room and she tried to remember when she had seen a place furnished in the same way.  The floor was polished black marble and the décor was very much in the spirit of Dali or Sartor, with its surrealistic paintings and its bizarre looking sculptures. The furniture was little of it there was, came in dark colours that added a nihilist slant to the place.  While some would consider it stylish, Eve found it to be clinical and sterile.  The thought sparked Eve’s memory of John Malcolm’s office and with that recollection, told her without doubt where she was.  

Almost in anticipation of her realisation, she heard his voice breaking the silence and startling her at the same time.  

“Detective McCaughley,” John Malcolm announced his presence in the room. 

If it was not for the drug, there was no way he could have entered the room without her being unaware but then Malcolm was not exactly what he appeared to be.  She turned sharply to the direction of his voice and saw that he was crossing the floor towards her.  Despite the fact that he looked like a man, Eve knew that he was more than that.  While she was unsure exactly what he was, Eve did not doubt the danger she was in being so close to the man.  She wished she had a gun because he was regarding her with a decidedly predatory gleam in his eyes, a look she had seen within the eyes of too many murderers and rapists.  Eve struggled to maintain her composure even though she felt even more helpless than ever.  It was a feeling she was not accustomed to and she did not like it very much.

“Mr Malcolm,” Eve said coolly, noticing that he was carrying an arrow in his hand.  She hid this observation as well as her recognition that the arrow was the same as the one she had seen Legolas carrying.  Her heart sank at the thought that he was in possession of such an item. Did that mean he had captured Aaron and the elves as well? 

“How did you sleep?” He asked smoothly, lowering himself next to her on the bed, an action that immediately told Eve that she was right to compare him with a rapist. Eve had been around men long enough to know that he wanted her and that realisation scared her more than anything else about her situation.  

“Considering I was shot by a tranquilliser dart? Not well,” she said abruptly, hiding her anxiety with sarcasm.  “Where is Moses?”

“Moses?” He stared at her and then chuckled slightly as if enjoying some private joke,  “is that what you’re calling Olorin?”

“I thought his name was Gandalf?” Eve exclaimed involuntarily and saw his brow arch in surprise. She knew immediately she had made a grievous error by volunteering that name. 

“Now how could you know that?” Malcolm asked, his eyes narrowing in calculation as his gaze pierced her skin with such intensity, it might have drawn blood. 

Eve cursed under her breath at her own stupidity for letting that slip, “he must have mentioned it while we were playing gin. You know how it is.”

“I seriously doubt that,” he said with so much confidence that Eve no longer held any doubt that Aaron was right, that John Malcolm was responsible for Moses’ condition.

“Perhaps you learned his name from whomever own this,” Malcolm retorted smoothly, holding the arrow up for her to see.

“An arrow?” She looked at him with indifference. 

“Its an arrow inscribed in the language of the elves,” he stated firmly, his gaze boring holes into her skin with its intensity.  “You do know what elves are don’t you?”

”Those little guys working for the shoemaker?” She said sarcastically.

Malcolm reached out and grabbed her by the hair with such speed that Eve was barely able to register the movement until he was holding her face inches away from his, with the point of the arrow pressing hard against her cheek. She could feel it on the verge of breaking skin.  His eyes were almost black with menace and as Eve was forced to stare into them, she could very well believe that Malcolm was some dark creature born of an ancient world. 

“This was made by the First Born and I will know how it came to be here in this day and age. I can make this pleasant Eve or I can make it agonising. The choice is yours,” he hissed, lowering his hand enough to brush his knuckles against her bare thigh.

Something inside Eve snapped at his touch. The tranquilliser might have dulled her reflexes but the rush of adrenaline and her fear compensated nicely.  Eve slammed her palm into his face and grabbed the hand holding the arrow, forcing it away from her as she used the momentum to jump off the bed.  Her limbs still felt heavy but she had recovered enough to sprint for the door. Eve did not look back at Malcolm as she raced towards freedom when suddenly she felt a great force slam into her body.  The power of it was violent enough to send her sprawling towards the hard floor.   

Through the pain flaring through her as she hit the marble floor, Eve saw Malcolm climbing off the bed, wiping a smear of blood from his lips.  

“When this is done Eve,” he spoke to with a chilling tone as he approached her, “we will have plenty of time to get to know each other and then I will show you how much pleasure there is to be gained from pain.”

As he said those words, Eve prayed that she could escape before she was forced to experience what he meant by that, first hand.

 ************\r\n\r\n


The moment it appeared through the broken window of Eve’s horseless carriage, the elves knew precisely what they were seeing before them.  Aaron was oblivious to it and so did most of the inhabitants of this city but for Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir, the sight of it made them shudder inwardly.  They had heard tales of it from the more ancient members of their race and were grateful that they were not born during the time when the Dark Enemy had ruled the world. Middle Earth had not seen its like since the destruction of Beleriand and even though Barad-dűr  held its own sinister presence, it had never quite compared to the sheer terrifying nature of Angband or Morgoth’s Iron Fortress.

As they approached the structure that Aaron had been calling the Monolith, the elves knew without doubt that this was the seat of Melkor’s power in this world. They could feel its darkness emanating through the air, filling their lungs like thick dark smoke. The building was a tower made of stone and glass but its construction was the personification of the Iron Fortress.  For the first time since arriving in this strange new world, the elves felt real fear because they had not counted that the enemy they would be facing would be Morgoth.  It had taken the might of the Valar to depose the tyrant aeons ago.  What chance did they have?

Aaron had no idea the thoughts running through the minds of his companions as he drove Eve’s battered T-Bird towards the Monolith because he was too busy running through the insane plan he had in his head to retrieve the woman that he loved and his patient.  His plan, such as it was, had been borne partly out of desperation and the belief that it was just insane enough to work.  Also, he was certain that Sandra Collins was expecting him to make some foolhardy attempt at a rescue. While she was not far from the truth, Aaron was certain that she had no concept of just how much destruction he was willing to cause in order to get Eve and Moses back.  

“Are your seat belts on?” Aaron turned to the elves, trying to ignore the fact that they were staring at the Monolith like it was the gateway to hell.  Considering what he knew about Melkor, Aaron supposed that it was completely understandable. After all, they probably knew better than he did, was Malcolm truly was and of what he was capable.

Legolas looked at him after a moment, tearing his eyes away from the structure before him.  Aaron had brought the car to a halt at the kerb before the tower of dark glass.  The elf reached for the strap across his body, feeling somewhat anxious that Aaron had requested that they be bound to the inside of the carriage so firmly.  However, he was certain that his concern had more to do with the fact that they would soon be facing the dark enemy, not any experience within this mechanical carriage.

“Danger,” Legolas stated, casting another glance at the Monolith when his eyes met Aaron’s again.

“No kidding,” Aaron nodded in agreement before leaning over the elf to ensure his seat belts was on firmly. 

Once the healer was content that they were all firmly strapped into their seats, Aaron reached for Legolas’ hands and placed it on the dashboard.  

“Brace yourself,” he explained, trying to clarify his request with some gestures but he was confident that when the time came, the urgency of the situation and the elves’ dislike of cars would cross the language barrier. 

“You too,” he looked at Elladan and Elrohir, expecting them to do the same.  

“Aaron, what?” Elrohir asked, unable to endure the suspense any longer.  Elrohir had a terrible premonition that Melkor was not the only danger they were facing. Aaron’s insistence on their need to wear these uncomfortable straps had provoked Elrohir’s suspicion as well as concern. 

“Trust me,” Aaron retorted under his breath as he faced the wheel again, “you don’t know want to know.”

His expression alone was enough to induce more worried concern on their face as he sat forward in his seat and placed his hands on the wheel.  Once he started the T Bird’s engines, there would be no going back, for any of them.  Aaron wondered how he had gone from respected psychiatrist to a lunatic about to wages seven kinds of hell on a corporate giant with three elves and a T Bird loaded with a lot of optional extras.  He supposed it did not really matter how he had come to this, only that he was here and he was going to rescue Eve and Moses or die trying.

The rumble of the car caused his passengers to instinctively grab something as the vehicle prepared itself to surge forward.  Aaron took a deep breath, waiting in anticipation as the dial on his speedometer made its steady ascent. The car’s engines were roaring so loud that he could feel its vibrations through the seat.  Legolas was staring at him worriedly, trying to discern what he was doing. As it was, the elves had no love for cars and this was not alleviating their fears any. 

“This is why we wear seat belts,” Aaron replied as he jammed his foot on the accelerator and sent the car flying across the sidewalk onto the kerb. 

The T Bird sped through the sidewalk, causing pedestrians to jump out of the way with shouts and curses at his reckless driving.  Most simply scurried out of the vehicle’s path, particularly when it was coming at them with the speed of a juggernaut.  The car jolted dangerously when it reached the first in a small series of steps.  While making the bumpy climb up some steps, Aaron was treated to a wide range of words he was certain elves did not use in polite company.  The T Bird groaned as metal scraped against concrete and something disengaged from the underside of the car, which Aaron was certain, was Eve’s muffler.  Fortunately, the car crossed the uneven terrain quickly and relatively unscathed, though the same could not be said for his passengers.

Once the T Bird reached the concrete walk in front of the building where workers gathered to have lunch on benches or feed the birds, Aaron shifted the vehicle into a higher gear and forced the accelerator all the way to the floor.  The T Bird raced forward, a tonne of unstoppable metal with a lunatic behind the wheel.  By now, people were sensible enough to stay clear of the car as Aaron tore through the walk towards the main doors of the building.  

“Keep your head down!” Aaron ordered instinctively and as the elves saw the building rushing towards them, needed no understanding of his words to obey.

Aaron turned his head away as the car smashed through the revolving doors, demolishing it in a spectacular explosion of glass and metal.  The front of the T Bird suffered considerably but there was enough steel in its frame to ensure that it was still capable of being very formidable.  Aaron vaguely heard people screaming as he forced his way into the lobby of the building. He paid them little attention as he swung the wheel around and aimed the nose of the car at the security desk and the guards who were staring at the unfolding scene with nothing less than shock. 

Aaron shifted the car to a lower gear and slammed his foot on the pedal again, racing towards the men who were in the process of unsheathing their guns from its respective holsters.  The T Bird continued its onslaught and sped towards them, crushing glass and debris under its wheels as it closed the distance between the armed men.  For an instance, Aaron had this terrible fear that they would not leave, that they would instead attempt to gun him down.  Fortunately, the sight of the car bearing down on them at great speed ended that question and Aaron released a sigh of relief when he saw them running for cover.

“What in Elbereth’s name is he doing?” Elladan swore as the carriage continued its destructive course throughout the front lobby of the Malcolm Building.

“I think he was trying to surprise them,” Elrohir replied, deciding that if he were not free of this accursed vehicle soon, he would not be responsible for his actions.

“He surprised me!” Elladan retorted.

“He has a plan!” Legolas declared, refusing to think that Aaron had completely lost his mind.  Of course he was also accustomed to Aragorn’s thinking and part of what made the King of Gondor such a formidable warrior was the fact that he was never predictable.  Legolas was not sure that he was happy that Aaron still possessed this trait.

Aaron did have a plan.  Once he had sent the security guards running, he took the car to the elevators at the far end of the lobby.  Pulling the T Bird to an abrupt halt outside one of the doors, he unbuckled his seat belt and turned to the others. 

“Let’s go!”  He shouted as he jumped out of the front seat. 

The elves were more than happy to comply as they unfastened themselves from the carriage and quickly exited without further protest. Aaron grabbed the knapsack he had secreted in the back seat of the car and searched the debris covered lobby for a safe place to put it.  The doctor saw a pot plant that had been upended at the far end of the room and immediately raced towards it as his companions collected themselves after their automotive ordeal.  It took no more than minute before he returned to them and pressed the elevator button.

“Legolas,” he called to the elf that was already arming his bow with one of Nicky’s arrows.  

Legolas nodded in acknowledge and took aim as the first elevator door slid open.  The blond elf stepped into the small space with Elladan, Elrohir and Aaron, his eyes still trained on the target even as Aaron pressed the buttons to close the doors.

“NOW!” Aaron shouted as the doors started to slide towards each other.

Prior to their arrival here, Aaron had told Legolas what he needed to do with the explosive tipped arrow.  While Legolas still appeared unclear on how one arrow was going to aid them in their effort to create enough chaos to enter the building unnoticed, he nonetheless trusted Aaron’s judgement and was more than ready to act, now that it was time for him to play his part. Releasing the bowstring, the arrow flew past the elevator doors and struck the rear section of the wounded T Bird, in the exact place where Aaron had showed him.

The last thing they saw before the elevators closed the lobby to them was the arrow striking its mark and turning Eve’s beloved T Bird into a fireball. A wall of flame rushed towards them as the doors slid to a close and the elevator began its journey upwards.  The floor shuddered a little from the shockwave but nevertheless continued without hindrance.  Aaron could only imagine what damage the exploding car had caused, however, he had a good reason for his actions.  He had wanted to clear the building quickly, without giving away the rest of his plan. His dramatic entry through the lobby of the building had ensured that everyone in the area would leave while he was carrying out his onslaught with the T Bird. 

“Well that went alright,” Aaron looked at his elven companions and saw that Elrohir was still rather shaken, while Legolas and Elladan were frowning at him.  

“What?” The doctor declared innocently.  “I told you it was going to be rough.”

“You danger, driving!  Idiot!” Elladan snorted.

“Oh that,” Aaron grinned. “That’s why I told you to wear seat belts.” He replied making a slashing gesture across his body from shoulder to hip.

Legolas’ answer was to repeat the same gesture across his neck and retort, “no more driving.”

“Fine,” Aaron replied, deciding he was not about to deal with sarcastic elves considering their present situation.

However, the elves were no longer listening to him.  Aaron’s eyes widened as he saw something settle shadow like over their faces. Legolas was pressed against the wall, his hand clutching his bow so tight his knuckles were almost white.  Elladan and Elrohir were in no better condition as they wore expression of real anxiety on their faces, even more so then when he was ramming the T Bird through the lobby of the building. All three were taut with fear, as if something terrible had gripped their hearts with a black fist and would not let go.

“What is it?” Aaron demanded with grave concern.

“Danger,” Legolas managed to say, his gaze sweeping briefly across the space within the elevator.

“Where?”  Aaron asked puzzled, confused because he could sense nothing.

Elrohir’s eyes dropped to the floor of the elevator floor at the same time they all felt the sudden shift in the motion of the car.  Instead of going up, the elevator was suddenly going down and fast. 

“Hell!” Aaron cursed and immediately began jabbing at buttons to keep the elevator from continuing its downward journey.  However to no avail.  He had lit up almost every button the on panel, however the elevator was stubbornly refusing to stop at any of the floors.  Aaron watch the digitised screen on the panel showing them the floors they were passing and felt his stomach hollow as they approached the ground floor where they had began.  Security must have some kind of override control, he thought with dismay.  He pulled out the gun he had tucked away in the knapsack and prepared himself for a fight. The elves that were still affected by the danger they were sensing in the elevator had recovered enough to follow suit by brandishing their weapons in readiness.

The panel was no longer registering what floor they were on but Aaron sensed they were going down much farther than the basement parking lot.  The seconds stretched into minutes and the elves seemed even more anxious as the time stretched. Aaron could not blame them. He had not foreseen this happening and wondered if it was necessary to play his trump card a little sooner than expected. However, the question became moot when the elevator came to a jolting halt and sent everyone tumbling to the floor. 

“This contraption is going to kill us far sooner than Melkor!” Elladan hissed as he picked himself up from the floor and brushed his hair out of his face. 

“Calm down,” Legolas barked since he was more concerned with getting out of their confinement rather than the mechanics of this box they were trapped in.  “I do not think this…device is customarily so unsafe. If not, Aaron would not have led us here.”

“You have too much faith in him Legolas,” Elrohir snorted as he picked himself up from the floor.

“I seemed to recall that you both had a great deal of faith in him one time,” Legolas’ tone turned hard as stone. 

“That was he was the Dunedain,” Elrohir returned, angry enough to rise to Legolas’ challenge. “He is not that man any more.”

“Hey!” Aaron’s voice interrupted their ‘discussion’ before it became any more heated, “some help here?” 

The healer was attempting to pry the door open but was not having much success since he was using his fingers. Legolas immediately stepped forward, producing his dagger and sliding it between the crack of the door to pull it apart.  

“Thank you,” Aaron added softly as he helped Legolas widen the gap the elf had managed to produce thanks to the dagger.  By the tone of the argument the elves were having a few seconds ago, Aaron assumed that Elrohir had not been impressed by the turn their plan had taken.  Aaron could not blame his vitriol and guessed by the manner in which Legolas tried not to glance Aaron’s way as they argued, that Elrohir was questioning his ability to lead them in this rescue mission.

“Friend,” he said just as quietly. “Always. Even idiot.”

Aaron let out a short laugh but he was hiding the effect the sentiment were having upon him especially when he felt Elrohir coming forward and patting him on the back, in a conciliatory gesture.  The elf looked somewhat guilty for doubting him and Elladan offered Aaron a small smile, indicating solidarity to whatever Aaron planned to do next.  Forcing away the emotions churning through him at their renewed confidence, Aaron turned back to the door.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said firmly and meant it.

It was time to find Eve and Moses.

 ************\r\n\r\n

The sprinklers activated while Eve was attempting to discern what had been the cause of the sudden tremor that rocked through the building.  

She pressed her face against the glass window, trying to see what was happening on the lower floors and could only see smoke rising from below.  People were running from the base of the structure like ants after a rock had been thrown at their anthill.  Even though she could not hear anything from her prison, she could see the pandemonium erupting in the courtyard below. There was a fire in one of the lower levels, Eve guessed, because she could see the smoke billowing past the window.  It was inevitable that the building fire protection systems would kick in shortly after.  Since the destruction of the World Trade Centre, city engineers had become almost fanatical to ensure that every precaution was taken against any kind of calamity.

As the water sprayed throughout the room, Eve soon realised that it was her one chance to escape.  Hurrying towards the door she knew was almost certainly locked and guarded by one of Malcolm’s thugs, Eve watched her step to keep from slipping on the smooth marble floor.  She had not been able to find her clothes and had this terrible feeling that Malcolm believed she would not be needing anything but what she was wearing during her stay in his company.  The thought of what he had planned for her made the usually unflappable policewoman shudder in disgust and fired her determination to escape at all costs. 

She reached the door just as the knob started to turn and took up a flanking position just as it swung open.  Eve held her ground, knowing that she would have only one chance at this.  A tall man in a dark suit slipped past her, trying to find her through the hiss of water spraying through out the room.  The visual and auditory distraction gave Eve a small advantage and she took it with both hands as she brought her hand down on the back of his neck in what could only be called a classic ‘karate chop’.  While the strike did not have the power to render him unconscious, it knocked him off balance and Eve threw a flying kick into the small of his back, propelling him forward.

The slippery floor finished the rest off the job when he lost his footing and landed face first on the smooth marble. Through the low hiss of the sprinkler system, Eve heard the terrible crush of bone as his nose shattered, sending bone fragments in all directions.  His body was slapped so hard against the floor that Eve was unsurprised that he did not move again.  She did not even waste time checking to see if he was alive. All she wanted was the 45 in his hand.

By now she was soaking wet, with hair plastered to her face and the nightgown plastered to her skin.  She thought absurdly as she stepped out of Malcolm’s private suite into the corridor leading to the elevator that she would be the first woman to fight off a dark lord looking like a contestant in a wet t-shirt contest. She prayed they did not find her like his if she was killed.  The indignity of it was too much for her feministic mentality.

There was no one in the corridor and Eve strongly suspected that everyone was too busy trying to deal with fire in the floors below.  Hopefully she could get lost in the evacuation process before Malcolm and his people knew that she was gone.  In any case, Eve was going to avoid coming into direct contact with the man when she knew what he was capable of.  The only thing that had saved her from his wrath after her attempt to escape was his desire to find the elves.  Eve could not fathom why he was concerned about the trio when Moses had the same telekinetic ability as him and was a more formidable threat.  The elves, with their ability to sense danger and possess hair that would put Vidal Sassoon out of business, were more or less normal.  Despite their immortality, they could still be killed. 

Why would Malcolm be so concerned about them?

A question for later, Eve decided as she ran past the elevator and made her way to the fire stairs.  Right now, she had to find out where they were keeping Moses and if possible, rescue him without being caught herself.   
 ************\r\n\r\n

When they finally opened the doors of the elevator, Aaron almost wished they had not.

A wave of hot, humid air rushed into the cool confines of the elevator car, carrying a fetid stench that immediately made the elves wince in disgust.  For once Aaron pitied their superior sense of smell because if he could barely control his own gag reflex, he had no idea how they managed it.  Beyond the bright, fluorescent lights near the elevator, was a dimly lit world where there were shadows everywhere.   The immediate area outside the elevated was paved but as Aaron took a few more steps, the concrete paving discontinued and he found himself on dirt. 

Gazing upwards, he could see the ceiling of the place and it was not reassuring concrete but rather a composite of rock and dirt. Stalactites hung from the ceiling like serrated teeth and as Aaron delved deeper into the cavernous enclosure they had suddenly entered, he heard what sounded like the swirl of water.

“Aaron,” Legolas called out softly.  

Aaron looked over his shoulder and saw that the elves were even tenser than he was.   Legolas had armed his bow, while Elladan and Elrohir were holding their swords in striking pose. Their eyes were hard and set as if they expected to go into battle at any second and their grim visage only prompted him to reach for his gun and feel the security of its steel within his grip.

“Stay,” Legolas spoke further and the tone of his voice indicated that it was not a request.

“What is it?” Aaron looked around and found it was difficult to see. They were in a very large cave, that much was certain because its boundaries were so big and the light which was coming from the service lamps around the elevator area was not quite enough to illuminate all of it.

“Danger,” Legolas said flatly.

Aaron heard the swirling once again.  He looked towards the direction it had come and took another step forward without thinking.

“Aaron!” Legolas snapped sharply. “STAY!” 

“We can’t stay here,” Aaron protested, wanting to get out of this place so they could resume their search. “We have to find the others.”

Legolas did not answer because like Elladan and Elrohir, he knew there was something in the darkness and it was coming for them.   It was alive and drawing closer, Legolas could feel its warm breath being carried on the waves of hot air that filled this cavern.  The stench that was so unbearable to them was without doubt the rancid smell of rotting flesh.  This cave was home to something terribly vile, something that needed to feed. 

The elves’ palpable fear made Aaron nervous and he gazed into the dimly lit cavern, trying to see what was out there but could hear nothing except for that damnable swirling of fluid that was gnawing at him to be explained.  The smell alone was stomach turning and Aaron who had been in surgery, who had seen dissections and body parts being immersed in formaldehyde could not help but feel sickened to the pit of it as he tried to recognise what could produce such a rank odour. The humidity in the cavern left a fine sheen of moisture on their skin and Aaron puzzled at the hot house temperatures, considering this was New York in early spring and while it was not exactly freezing at this time of the year, it was not meant to be this warm either.

“Legolas, can you feel it?” Elladan asked. 

“Yes,” the former Prince of Mirkwood nodded. “It draws nearer.”

“We should go,” Elrohir advised. 

“Where?” Legolas turned to him. “That contraption brought us here, I highly doubt that it will take us away from it.”

Scrape.

All four turned to the new sound as they heard its scratch across the dirt surface. The shadows seemed to move and Aaron decided that perhaps Legolas was not so wrong after all, that there was danger here and it was closer than then he could possibly believe. The doctor took a step back, retreating to join the others when suddenly; something lashed out of the darkness and wrapped itself around his waist.  Aaron had barely time to register what had happened before he felt the air beneath his feet as he was lifted off the ground.

“AARON!” Legolas shouted as he saw the beast for the first time.

It was dripping with water and glistened under the dim light of the cavern but there was no mistaking what it was.  Legolas had not seen it’s like in almost a hundred thousand years, not since the Fellowship was forced to flee into the Mines of Moria to escape the fearsome beast. Its tentacles moved like lashes and flayed through the air as it waved the limb coiled around Aaron about, intending to disorientate its prey enough for the eating.  

“Is that what I think it is?” Elladan asked as they ran towards the beast.

“Yes, yes!” Legolas nodded arming his bow. “It is a watcher!”

The watchers had been created at the same time that Melkor had established his kingdom in Angband.  Within his Iron fortress, the dark lord had given life to some of the most terrifying creatures to ever walk the earth.  Among these were the great spiders of whom Ungoliant was the first, the balrogs, the dragons and a host of other monsters that would continue to terrify the Eldar and the other races for centuries to come.  It should have been no surprise to any of the elves that Melkor would have created more of these beasts to safeguard his new kingdom in this world.  
 
Meanwhile, Aaron was coming to grips with his situation, that is being readied to be swallowed by a creature that looked a good deal like a giant octopus except this one had the musculature for terrestrial movement and was presently widening its jaws full of enormous teeth.  The doctor was fighting the urge to scream, determined to calm himself despite his terrifying situation.  However it was difficult to do so when faced with the fact that all it would take for this thing to kill him was one snap of its jaws while it was gulping him down. Remembering he had a gun, Aaron pointed the weapon at the creature’s open mouth and emptied a full round into its gullet.  The beast roared in pain as the bullets tore through its flesh but while it registered the pain, its bulk was such that bullets did very little damage to it. 

Aaron saw Legolas firing an arrow into the limb that was coiled around him.  The projectile dug deep into the creature’s flesh and had more effect on it than Aaron’s bullets.  It reacted to the pain by shaking Aaron even more violently than before and the healer was certain that if he did not get eaten, he was going to break every bone in his body from the shuddering he was being subjected to.  His gun was empty and even if he had another magazine, there was no way he was going to be able to load the weapon anyway.  Elladan ran forward bravely and swung his sword in a wide arc across the tentacle holding Aaron. The beast roared with agony and Aaron suddenly found the ground rushing up to meet him.  

Black blood flowed from the severed tentacles, spurt of it creating a spray as the watcher slammed another tentacle at Elladan and sent the elf flying.  Elrohir was quick to move to his brother side as the behemoth surged forward towards him.  Aaron scrambled free of the limb that had held him, searching the dark for the backpack he had dropped when the thing had snatched him off the ground.  It did not take long to find it and Aaron raced towards it as Elrohir slashed wildly at the tentacle reaching for Elladan who had struggling to recover from his impact against the cave wall.

Aaron was about to lend his bullets to the fight when he noticed what Legolas was doing.  The archer was calmly arming his bow with one of the explosive tipped arrows, despite the fact that barely metres away from him as a very enraged monster about to kill them all.   

“Help Elladan!” Legolas glanced at Aaron long enough to say and the doctor was not about to argue with him.  Aaron hurried to Elladan who was bleeding profusely from a gash across his face as Elrohir battled to keep the tentacles from snatching them both.  The elf showed just how effective he was with a sword as his strikes tore through flesh and caused the beast to flay its severed limb in agony. Elrohir was trying to avoid being swatted aside as he defended his brother and there was more than one occasion when he was almost taken himself.

“Elladan,” Aaron wrapped his hand around the elf’s arm and helped him to his feet.  Half of Elladan’s face was smeared with blood but the wound looked a good deal worse than it actually was.  “Go!” Aaron gestured to the elevator. “Now!”

Elladan nodded and stumbled away as Aaron took position next to Elrohir and fired at the beast repeatedly.  The creature seemed to flinch away from the bullets and was now turning his attention towards Legolas who was alone and was so far doing nothing to harm it.   Aaron who knew what Legolas was planning grabbed Elrohir’s arm and pulled the elf towards the elevator, hoping that it was suitably far enough away from the creature to keep them safe.

“Legolas!” Aaron called out as he saw the lone archer standing face to face with the creature. “Come on!”

Legolas paid little heed to Aaron’s call for help because he was too busy taking aim at the watcher’s most vulnerable spot, its mouth.  The thing was snapping its jaws wildly, anticipating a meal and Legolas had every intention of feeding it, though the beast would not find it at all palatable.  He released the arrow and saw it fly through the darkness.  No sooner than the arrow had left his bow, Legolas turned on his heels and sprinted toward his companions. 

The explosion was not as fiery as the one that had encompassed Eve’s car but it was more than sufficient to tear apart what passed for the watcher’s skull.  Blood and charred flesh splattered the walls of the cavern as the creature stopped moving in a dead heap. Its huge tentacles slapped against the ground as it met its fiery end, its head alive with flame and flooded the chamber with much needed illumination. As the light filled the cave, they were able to see the large pool in the centre of it that had been the watcher’s home for who knew how long.  However, none of it was as chilling as the mound of bones had been collecting through the years, no doubt the remains of the victims Malcolm had send down here to meet a grisly end.

Legolas was still marvelling at the power of these arrows, even if they were more destructive than he liked. While he was rather awed hat he had managed to put down such a deadly beast so easily, he was more grateful that his friends had come out of the affair relatively unscathed.  Glancing over his shoulder briefly, he saw Aaron tending to the wound on Elladan’s forehead while Elrohir hovered nearby, reluctant to leave his brother’s side.

The fiery remains of the beast had allowed Legolas the opportunity to examine their surroundings closer.  He would prefer avoiding the metal contraption that had brought them here and find a more conventional means of leaving this place since they would have more control over where they were going. One thing Legolas had observed since arriving in the new world, the more labour saving devices man created for himself, the more opportunities there were for things to go completely awry.  

Skirting the edge of the beast’s flaming body, Legolas moved deeper into the cavern and deduced that it had been a fully contained subterranean chamber that Melkor had linked to the surface by means of the metal contraption that had brought them here.  However, the watcher like most beasts needed air to breathe and Legolas searched for another opening that might act as an air passage.  The fire was starting to die and if it were not for his superior eyesight, he might have missed completely a small aperture at the far end of cave.

“Aaron!” Legolas called out.

Aaron dressed the wound on Elladan’s head as best he could and joined Legolas when the elf called after him.  Legolas was staring hard at something in the distance.

“What is it?” Aaron asked.

“That,” Legolas pointed at it and Aaron followed his gaze to see what he was staring at.

“That my friend,” Aaron said with a smile as he saw the access way for some undoubtedly ancient and forgotten civil works project, “is our way out of here.”

 ************\r\n\r\n



Eve stayed out of sight, as best as a woman dressed in a sheer nightgown could during an emergency situation with people tripping over themselves to leave the premises.  She made her way down the fire stairs and was grateful when the only people she saw were Malcolm Industry employees filing out of their offices further down the staircase.  Eve was certain that if Moses was being kept anywhere, it was in the floor where John Malcolm’s office was located. The bastard would want to keep his prize close to him. 

Eve knew how dangerous this was and if she had any sense, she would be making her way out of here.  Malcolm’s questions to her indicated that he did not know where the elves were which meant Sandra Collins had not captured them when she and Moses were taken.  If the elves were safe then chances were good that Aaron was as well.  That thought alone filled her with a deep sense of relief.  The idea that he was hurt had the potential to harm her as badly as she had been when she lost both her father and her brother.

It was a sad but undeniable fact, Even thought as she emerged into the corridor where Malcolm’s office was located, that she was in love with Aaron Stone.  Why else would she be risking more than just her life to recover the patient he was so determined to protect? She supposed that she had been fighting it ever since she learnt that he was her husband in a past life, but in truth it had not been that much of a fight.  It had only been less than two days ago that they had kissed for the first time and almost every waking moment since then had been filled with thoughts of him and how she was not about to play into the hands of fate by falling in love with him.

Talk about denial. 

 For a few minutes, Eve remained hidden in corner of the corridor, waiting for the opportunity to act so she could be assured of a reasonable amount of success. Despite her desire to free Moses, Eve could not deny that Malcolm frightened her, more than she had ever been in her whole life.  Fear was not something she was accustomed to.  In her line of work, she resigned herself to the fact that death could be a consequence of the job and she had accepted it as most police officers did.  However, this was different. Malcolm would not just kill her. He would hurt her in ways she dared not even imagine and after seeing humanity at its worst, Eve could imagine quite a lot.

Footsteps against the wet floor made her shrink further into her hiding place.  She remained out of sight when suddenly she saw one of Malcolm’s dark suited thugs walking past her.  Eve waited until he was a few steps ahead before she crept up behind him and jammed the barrel of her gun into the small of his back.

“Move and I’ll see to it you’re eligible for disabled car parking for the rest of your life,” Eve hissed and pushed him against the wall.

“What do you want?” he asked worriedly, all too aware of the barrel against his spine. 

“You know who I am?” Eve ignored his question and asked one of her own.

“Yeah,” the man replied shortly. 

“Good, then you know I came in with old man,” Eve retorted, her eyes cautiously aware of everything thing going on in the corridor.  “Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” he answered swiftly, too much for it to be the truth.  

“Listen,” Eve said very slowly. “I am having a really bad day. Aside from the fact that I’ve been drugged, kidnapped, told that I’m going to be love slave of some kind of dark lord and I mean the Darth Vader kind, I’ve also had to run around this place in completely inappropriate clothing, so don’t misunderstand me when I say that if you don’t tell me where he is, I am going to blow your fucking head off!” 

Her words were sharp enough to penetrate and she could see the shudder rippling through him following her words. 

“Alright, alright,” he submitted unhappily. “I’ll take you to him.”

“Thank you,” Eve replied, prompting him into movement by jabbing him forward with the gun barrel. “I’m glad you decided to see things my way.”

 ************\r\n\r\n

It felt as if they had been climbing forever and Aaron was starting to think that they would never reach the surface again.  The access hatch took them through the systems of underground water mains, electrical lines and other utilities required for a structure the size of the Monolith.  All through their exhausting climb, Aaron was coming to grips with the fact that he had almost been eaten by a creature that could not possibly exist, living for who knows how long beneath New York City and feeding on the helpless victims Malcolm delivered to it. 

His limbs were aching by the time they emerged from the long shaft into the basement car park. Thankfully, emergency services were concentrated on the ground level of the structure where the fire had either been put out or was still raging, Aaron honestly did not know.  He led the elves to the service elevator which he was certain would not be scrutinized as the elevators in the main lobby. In any case, they had no choice. Their detour to the bowels of the earth had cost them greatly and the margin of time left for them to utilise their earlier distraction was dwindling. 

The elves did not appear happy to enter the elevator again but Aaron did not give them much of a choice as he stepped into the car and waited for them to join him. Legolas followed without question but Aaron could see the concern on his face.   

“We have to find Moses,” Aaron said to them, knowing that they understood English a good deal better than he spoke it. “We have to take the fastest way there.”

“Gandalf,” Legolas reminded.

“Yeah, Gandalf,” Aaron nodded, supposing it was time to remember that Moses had a name.   

“Aaron, Melkor danger.  We must stop,” Elladan replied, struggling to make himself understood.

“I know,” Aaron answered and said nothing more as he pushed the button on the elevator and hoped this journey toward the upper levels of the Monolith would not be as eventful as their last attempt.  

In truth, Aaron was not looking forward to finding Gandalf because he knew that none of them would be able to stop Melkor, not if even half of what the old man had told him was true.  There was only one way for this to end and it was a course Aaron did not wish to take nor could he confide to the others until moment was upon them.  He could not even confide in Legolas because Aaron was not entirely sure that Legolas would understand and Aaron did not have the words to explain it as well. 

Aaron just prayed that he was right because if he were wrong, then he would doom them all to death.


Chapter 10 - The Great Music

In the year 1630, Gandalf arrived in the fledgling colony of New Amsterdam.

Two years before, the Dutch West India Company had established the colony after purchasing the isle of Manhattan from the natives who lived here.  With the discovery of the New World, the colonists from Europe were sailing across the Atlantic at a rapidly growing pace.  For those insightful enough to see it, the new continent spoke of opportunities and untold riches. It was a virgin land untouched and unspoiled, with resources that the Europeans could not even begin to imagine and unlike the rest of the world which had already been divided into so many pieces by the great powers, it was there for anyone who dared to claim it.

It was also the perfect place for those with something to hide.

For twenty years, he had searched. He had crossed the cold, imperialistic lands of Europe and entered the dry parched deserts of Arabia and touched the roof of the world when he followed the Silk Road.  He had seen what the race of men had done with the world since the days when it was called Middle Earth and though he marvelled at their accomplishments, he could not help but think that they had become colder and more ruthless with age. It was a perfect breeding ground for the dark powers he had been searching. 

He had travelled so many roads and made many acquaintances but he was always burdened by the understanding that he could not form attachments as he had when he was one of Nine Walkers.  The men of this new world were not ready to believe that there were great kingdoms long before their most ancient memories of civilisation.  He guessed accurately that they would not receive such information well and chose not to complicate his time in the new world by volunteering it. Instead, he learnt their languages and customs while pursuing the darkness that remained maddeningly beyond his reach.

It was sheer stroke of luck that his search brought him to New Amsterdam, where he heard through sources too dark and unconventional to name that a secret order of devil worshippers had fled England twenty years ago to escape the Inquisition. Since arriving in the new world, Gandalf had been confronted by the precepts of organised religion and found the whole thing rather confusing. There were so many different religions despite preaching virtually the same thing and yet the race of men would commit untold atrocities to ensure their interpretation was the one who stood in dominance over the others. It was utter foolishness.

The New World was an ideal place for the secret cult who wished not only to escape the ruthless grip of the Inquisition but also practise their religion without raising suspicion.  The colonies were barely governed unless one lived in the townships and the new frontiers provided ample anonymity for those who wished to remain hidden. What the order needed to do required secrecy and their entire number undertook the journey across the Atlantic to see its ultimate aim carried out.

This Gandalf learnt from those who had returned from the colonies and were so frightened of being affiliated with it that they were grateful to tell him only to be rid of him forever and from these poor, misguided fools, Gandalf learned the truth.  The cult had desired to give the devil human shape and had found a ritual in an ancient spell book that would allow them to do just that.  To Gandalf, these texts sounded uncomfortably like the ancient magic that Sauron might have had in his keeping, in Baradur, presumed lost by the time he and the elves had departed Middle earth forever.

The spell involved the birth of a child and Gandalf felt a cold chill listening to the narration by the poor, ignorant soul who had foolishly aided in unleashing a monster from his ancient prison.  A young woman, a devout believer in the order’s evil doctrine had allowed herself to be impregnated by one of its male members.  The ritual was performed relatively early in her pregnancy and as the dark forces entered her body, it became as if they were trapped in the eye of a great storm as the skies came alive with lighting and great winds lashed at them.  

It was as if the earth was screaming in agony as the ground trembled under their feet.  A shadow fell over the young woman as the evil spirit entered her body, murdering the innocent soul of her unborn babe and taking possession of its body.  When she awoke, it was said that the light of understanding filled her eyes, even if it was too late for her soul to be saved.  She had thought to be the mother of a god but in truth she was the bringer of destruction upon her race.  Her repentance had come too late because the babe slumbered in her womb was no longer a child but an evil force that had chosen her well. 

 It knew she was too weak to destroy it.

Distraught, she had disappeared beyond the reach of the others in her order but could run nowhere that would keep her safe from her unborn child.

 ************\r\n\r\n

Through some miracle, Eve and her hostage had made it across the floor without being discovered. Although she was forced to keep a close eye on Malcolm’s hired thug, Eve was conscious of everything around her.  As anticipated, only Malcolm and his inner circle occupied the level where his office was situated and she doubted that a fire would be cause enough for them to evacuate.  Still, the outbreak of a fire in the building would bring fire services and police to investigate. Malcolm and Sandra Collins were most likely dealing with the inquiries of the city officials invading their premises. It was the only window of opportunity that Eve was likely to get and she hoped that it was enough. 
	
She knew perfectly well how vulnerable she was and never more so then now, when the room where Moses was imprisoned finally came within reach.  The cynic in her could not help think that it was usually when things were at their most likely that they usually fell to pieces.  She was walking a tight rope with this action and she knew it.  However, Eve refused to be intimidated and she would not be any less of the person she was because Malcolm frightened her.  If she allowed herself to be swayed by fears for her own safety, then she was admitting defeat and Eve had too much pride for that.

“He’s in there,” the thug retorted with a grunt.

“Well then you had better open the door,” Eve declared, pushing him forward again.  She had already liberated him of his gun earlier and had both of them in her hands, more than willing to use them if he did not obey her.

He looked over her shoulder long enough to throw her a scowl before putting approaching the door.  Eve was certain that there would be guards inside the room with Moses since there were none outside.  Considering all the difficulty Malcolm had gone to capturing Moses, it would be sheer negligence if he did not.  The tall man opened the door reluctantly with Eve shadowing him close to ensure that he did not warn his comrades inside the room. As expected, there was a man inside and Eve vaguely remembering that Sandra had called him Barry, in the few seconds of consciousness that remained after Eve had been shot with the dart.

Like the rest of the building, the room had suffered the effects of the sprinkler system activating to combat the fire.  Moses and Barry seemed just as waterlogged as herself and her hostage. The old man was seated on a wing chair next to the bed, obviously seething with annoyance at his incarceration.  With his arms folded, he was glaring at Barry as if his gaze alone were capable of incinerating the behemoth of a man where he stood.  However, that dark stormy expression on his wizened features faded away into one of relief and happiness when he saw Eve behind Malcolm’s employee.

“Eve!” He exclaimed with more than a little jubilation. 

“Hey Moses,” Eve replied casually as if she were just dropping by for a visit instead of attempting to rescue him. 

Barry however was not so agreeable. The big man took a step towards her and Eve knew that if she allowed him the advantage he could probably break her in half and give what’s left to Malcolm.  

“I wouldn’t try anything Barry,” Eve retorted pointing the other gun in her hand at him. “I’m ambidextrous and I’m pretty sure I can take you both out before you even got to your gun. Now drop it on the floor,” she ordered, her tone filled with ice.

“Malcolm will have your head for this, Walters,” Barry hissed at his subordinate. 

“I didn’t have much a choice,” Walters answered nervously as he was painfully aware of the untenable situation he was in. If he had not complied with Eve, she would have shot him and now that he had, Malcolm’s punishment would most likely be just as final. 

“Hey,” Eve barked at them both. “I didn’t say you could have a conversation! Drop the damn gun!” 

Barry cursed under his breath but dropped the weapon nonetheless. Eve kept her fixed on him as she spoke to Moses, “Moses get his gun.”

Moses did not hesitate at he hurried forward and retrieved the weapon, “I hope you do not expect me to discharge this thing?” Moses retorted as he looked distastefully at the weapon in his hands. 

He could not help thinking that this was a crude device, not at all elegant like a sword or an arrow.  So much destructive power in so compact a form was rather disquieting actually. 

“No, I’ll handle that if he does anything stupid,” Eve replied before she promptly brought down the butt of the gun against the back of Walter’s neck.  The man went down swiftly in a heap, having barely enough time to utter a cry of pain before he was knocked unconscious. 

Barry took a step towards her, hoping to take advantage of her momentary distraction but Eve was too fast for him. “Stay where you are Barry,” Eve warned as she stepped over Walter’s unconscious form and approached him slowly. “I will shoot you to get out of here alive.”

“The only way you’re leaving here is if Mr. Malcolm lets you and I think he plans to get to know you better first,” Barry said with a sneer.

Eve felt her cheeks flush red with anger and she would have killed him there and then for just reminding her what Malcolm was planning for her but she and Moses needed to make good their escape An escape which would not come to pass if she alerted the entire level to her presence by firing a gun.

“That will never happen.” Moses rumbled angrily, understanding now why Eve was dressed the way she was and why she had been taken alive.  

“I think it will,” Malcolm’s voice remarked startling them all.

Eve swung around and pulled the trigger of her gun without hesitation. Malcolm seemed to anticipate her reaction and jumped effortlessly out of the way as the bullet whizzed past him and impacted on a wall.  She did not even stop to think about the second shot and was about to aim again when Barry lunged forward and grabbed her arm. The man’s grip was so strong as he wrapped a massive fist around her wrist and veered the gun away from his employer.  A trail of bullet tore across the ceiling as Eve and Barry wrestled for the gun.  

“Leave her alone!” Moses shouted as he watched helplessly as Eve lost her battle to keep the gun. 

“Or what Olorin?” Malcolm stared at him with supreme confidence that he was in control of the situation.  

”Stop it!” Moses cried out as the name impacted upon his psyche and brought with it pain. “You do not have to harm her!  I will go with you and do what you wish but let her go!” 

“Oh Olorin,” Malcolm shook his head in resignation. “You will do it anyway and I am keeping her.”  The CEO of Malcolm Industries turned his head towards Eve who was struggling with Barry.  

Suddenly Eve’s legs were swept off the floor.  An unseen force swiped the weight from under her and the policewoman landed hard on the wet marble.  She let out a soft cry of pain as her body impacted against the surface. The fall was all the advantage that Barry need to subdued her completely as he aimed the gun in her face, with every intention of shooting if his master gave the order. 

“Thank you Barry,” Malcolm said coolly.  “If you could escort Detective McCaughley back to my suite, I will deal with her later.”

He met Eve’s eyes and offered her a little smile that made Eve shudder with fear because she could see the cruelty in them. Being under this creature’s power frightened her more than dying and she suspected that if he was allowed to have his way, she was going to wish that over and over again.  “You touch me and I’ll kill you,” she hissed. 

“I have no doubt that you will try,” Malcolm retorted, “and I shall enjoy even more for it.”

Moses watched Eve’s terrible fate unfolding before his eyes and was suddenly visited by an image that he did not know was hallucination or not.  It was the face of a woman who had taken her life when she found out what she had unleashed into the world.  He remembered seeing her face, the absolute despair in her eyes that not even death could erase.  He saw Eve who was willing to risk becoming the object of Malcolm’s sadistic desires by attempting to save him.  He could not allow this to happen! He could not!  People were suffering because of him.

He had to do something!

“You will not lay a hand on her you foul creature!” Moses shouted suddenly and startled them all by the fury in his voice. “I won’t let you hurt her like you hurt…” Moses struggled to remember. The name was there in his head he was certain, he could almost feel it at his fingertips.  “Like you hurt Elizabeth!” 

“I didn’t hurt Elizabeth, Olorin,” Malcolm stared at him evilly.  “You did by telling her the truth.”

“NO!” Moses screamed in pain and with the despairing knowledge that Malcolm was right. His fury built up in a surge of pent up rage that finally exploded. 

Suddenly, without warning, John Malcolm was flying through the air.  He smashed into the wall before tumbling to the marble at the sudden stop.   Something had opened up inside of Moses, something he did not quite recognise but he could feel its power surging through him.  He glared at Barry and concentrated hard. He knew he could make things move and he was just angry enough to will this time.  

Barry screamed as Moses flung him through a window.  The huge man’s body shattered the glass and immediately left a gush of wind from their lofty heights into the room.  Barry uttered a piercing scream as his body plunged downwards.  Eve scrambled to her feet and stared at Moses in shock, unable to believe what he had just done what he had even though she had seen Moses manifest such abilities before.  

“Moses…” she started to say.

“Eve, get out of here!” Moses ordered before she could finish her sentence.  This was a great strain and already he could see Malcolm starting to recover. 

“Not without you!” She cried out, refusing to leave him no matter how frightened she was of Malcolm. 

“GO!” Moses shouted. “GO WHILE YOU STILL CAN!” 

His words lashed at her and for once Eve realised that this was a fight she could not win. She came towards him and gave Moses a quick embrace.  “I’m going to find Aaron and we’re coming back for you! No matter what Moses, we’ll find you!”  

“I know,” he nodded with a sad smile.  “Now hurry!” 

Anguished at having to leave him, Eve knew Moses was right. She could not fight them like this, Moses needed more help than she could provide.  She hurried out of the room, her eyes catching sight of Malcolm beginning to get stronger.  Eve suddenly realised that Moses knew he could not beat the Malcolm, only give her enough time to escape.  She would not squander his efforts because she was determined to come back for him. She did not care what it took. 

She was not going to let him be forgotten for another four centuries.

 ************\r\n\r\n

The sound was loud enough to be heard further throughout the entire level of the Monolith’s penultimate floor.  Gunfire echoed down the corridor as Aaron and the elves drew closer to their prey.  It had been a relatively easy matter to reach this floor with all the people that were still being evacuated from the building in light of the explosion the T-Bird had caused in the lobby. After 9/11 explosions in buildings were treated with extreme caution.  Fire crews and police were moving throughout the lower levels of the building and while the service elevator had taken them up the structure to the point, the rest of the journey had to be completed by foot.  Aaron did not want to risk taking the man elevators and be sent into the den of another one of Malcolm’s monsters.

The gunfire exploded through their ears, a whole series of shots that struck fear into Aaron’s heart as he heard them.  He was running before he even knew what he was thinking.

“Aaron!” Legolas shouted after him.  “Stop!” 

“Keep him in sight!” Legolas ordered as he and the elves ran after their wayward companions.  Legolas knew what Aaron feared and after seeing what guns were capable of doing, could not blame his anxiety that Eve and Mithrandir might be on the receiving end of those deadly shots.  

“Melkor is close,” Elladan declared as he followed Legolas. “I can feel him.”

“So can we all,” Elrohir retorted. “His stink is all throughout this place.  I still do not know how we are to defeat him. If he could overwhelm Mithrandir, we have no chance against the beast.”

“We have no choice but to try,” Legolas said shortly as he saw Aaron turn a corner and hastened his own pace so that he could catch up with the human before Aaron endangered himself further. 

Aaron could hear voices of shouting and assumed that was where the gunshots had originated.  He prayed that he was not too late.   Even though he had been worried about how much further Malcolm might damage Moses’ mind, he was also gripped with the fear of why they wanted Eve alive.  It made no sense to him and the possibilities terrified the psychiatrist to no end after what Moses had told him about Malcolm resurrecting himself in a new body every so often.  Who were the mothers to these children who had their souls to be supplanted by a monster whilst still in the womb?  The answer frightened him and he knew that if he did not find Eve soon, she would find out too.

“Aaron!” 

Aaron stopped dead in his tracks because Eve was standing metres in front of him.  

There was a moment of dead silence between the two of them as they faced each other in the corridor, each having travelled their own path to converge in this singular point in time.  For a few seconds, neither reacted except to stare at each other in a rising wave of astonishment and soul crushing relief. 

When they finally emerged from this stupor, Eve was running towards him and they met in a passionate embrace followed by an equally passionate kiss. Aaron almost had tears in his eyes from seeing that she was safe and as he held her in his arms, she could tell that she was similarly happy to see him. At that moment, Eve did not care whether or not they were meant to be, she only knew how she felt and at this immediate point in time, she knew without doubt that she loved him.  Feeling his arms around her had the power to drive all the ugliness away and knowing that he had risked his life to storm the castle for her was just as equally satisfying.  He said he would protect her no matter what, Eve was glad to say that she believed him.

“Are you alright?” He asked worriedly when they parted. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” Eve shook her head, smiling in happiness to see Aaron.  “Moses got me out of there. We have to go back for him.”

At that moment, Legolas and the elves appeared. Elladan and Elrohir immediately converged upon their sister, showing their affection with similarly warm embraces.  

“Safe Eve,” Elladan smiled. “Very good.”

“Come on,” Eve prompted them into moving as she started hurrying up the way she came.  “We have to go help Moses!” 

The group started hurrying down the corridor when Aaron noticed the wet nightgown that was plastered to her body. “Eve, what are you wearing?”

“Don’t start on me,” Eve grumbled, noticing the appreciative looks she was receiving from Aaron over her form. “You have no idea what I’ve been through today.”

“Oh really?” Aaron countered, “you should see what he keeps in his basement.”

 ************\r\n\r\n


The chair broke beneath Moses’ body when he was flung unto it. 

It collapsed with a loud crash as his body shattered the framework and crushed it beneath him as he landed.  Sharp pieces tore at his flesh through his damp clothes and his body flared with pain.  Moses took a deep breath and forced himself to his knees, knowing that Malcolm was not done with him.  As Moses raised his eyes to Malcolm, he knew that he did not have the power to fight this dark lord who had stolen his memories and made his name a source of agony. Moses’ strength was dwindling and he did not know whether he was capable of sustaining a prolonged battle the Malcolm.

“Your delusions knows no boundaries Olorin,” Malcolm growled menacingly, using the name as weapon and relishing it when he saw his quarry flinch at the sound of it.  “You think because you helped bring down Sauron that you can possibly pit yourself against me?  Do you think I saw nothing while I was in the void?  I was trapped in a prison where I could see all but do nothing. I was without form and shape in my prison but I was still aware!” 

“I do not know what you are talking about! But if you were imprisoned than it was for good reason!” Moses shouted angrily.

A table flew at Malcolm but the he was ready for it.  Just short of a few inches from him, Malcolm exerted a mere fraction of his power and smashed it spectacularly against a wall, sending its remnants to the floor in pieces.

“You know nothing of why I was imprisoned, “ Malcolm retorted as he dusted himself off and approached Moses. “My brethren and the rest of them chose to rule from their little island. What is the point of leaving the Timeless Halls if they choose to isolate themselves? The songs of the Ainur were stagnant with complacency. I gave them substance!  I gave the world form!  I made darkness something that will be remembered long after Valinor disappears into the mist forever. This new world is ripe for a second dark age.  You have walked among them for four centuries, you know they are capable of destruction on a scale I never ever dreamed possible.  Did you think that mankind would survive on its own once you and the elves abandoned it?”

His words made no sense to Moses but he did know one thing, there was still hope for man.   “They have managed quite well without the elves.”

“You think so do you?” Malcolm glared at him. “They see suspicion in everything and they revel in decadence.  Even when they are pious they twist the message of hope into restraints where those who do not conform must be made outcast or killed outright!  They place their religions so highly that it is a joy to destroy and murder in the name.  Not even my Orcs were so bloodthirsty!  They have always been destructive and I truly love that about them.  I will help them reduce this world to a graveyard and once it is done, I will built my kingdom on their broken bones!” 

“No!” Moses screamed and hurled another piece of furniture at Malcolm that was put down as effectively as his earlier effort.  Moses did not have the strength to keep fighting.  He dropped to his knees, his body so weak and his strength almost gone.  In anguish, Moses knew he was beaten. 

“I give you the chance I should have offered you four centuries ago,” Malcolm approached Moses as the old man panted on the floor. “Join me and take your place by my side. You can show your true face Olorin, not the one that Manwe and the others have forced you to wear in order to walk among men. You are not an old man despite the shape of your flesh.  If you wish order, at my side you will have it.  We will put them under the same yoke and you can see just how glorious it can be to serve me.”

“I would have refused that offer just as I do so now,” Moses glared at him, “but my answer has not changed.  To hell with you!” 

“Hell?” Malcolm shook his head, unsurprised by the answer. “We both know there is no hell for us Olorin but I can make wish you for one.”

Suddenly Moses felt as if his bones were being crushed as Malcolm’s power enveloped him in a tightening grip.  The pain was so intense that the old man could not help but scream.  His cry pierced through the air as Malcolm watched the Maia’s face contort with agony.  Moses could feel the air being forced out his lungs, his chest felt as if it was about to collapse and as he curled into a ball on the floor, writhing in excruciating pain.  

With despair, Moses realised that Malcolm might finally be prepared to kill him.

************

“Is that Moses?” Aaron demanded as they reached the room where Moses was imprisoned.  He had hoped they would be able to snatch the old man and get out of here before the entire building was alerted to their presence but that was no longer a valid hope.  If Malcolm’s thugs had not converged upon them yet, they soon would. 

 Legolas nodded grimly, “Gandalf.”

Aaron was the first to enter the room and see John Malcolm for the first time.  His first instinct upon seeing the man was to shoot.  Moses was screaming in pain and even though Aaron was uncertain how, he knew that Malcolm was the cause of it.  Just like Malcolm had caused everything else.  He raised his gun to fire when Malcolm turn sharply to him and spun him around in mid air before bringing Aaron down hard on the floor.  The gun clattered out of his reach as it slid across the floor.

“Aaron!” Eve cried out, hurrying to his side. 

“Melkor!” Legolas shouted, having armed his bow already and releasing the arrow at the dark lord’s direction. 

Malcolm caught it with one hand before the arrow could pierce the skin.  Legolas reached for his dagger and flung it in swift retaliation but Malcolm caused it to fly harmless aside before it could reach him.  Elladan threw his sword at Malcolm while he was dealing with Legolas’ attack but the dark lord was proving quite effectively why he could not be defeated.  Behind them, the door slammed shut locking them inside the room with him.  With a sinking feeling, the elves realised that they had played right into Melkor’s hands. 

“How nice to finally meet you Doctor Stone,” Malcolm glanced at Aaron as Eve helped him to his feet. 

“Stop what you’re doing!” Aaron ignored the attempt at pleasantries when Moses was screaming in pain.  “You’re killing him!” 

“You should be more concerned with your own well being,” Malcolm glared at him. “You have caused me a great deal of trouble Doctor. I am tempted to keep you alive to torture for the rest of your natural life but I suppose I should be grateful, you did bring me the elves and the lovely Detective McCaughley.”

With that, he ceased his torture of Moses who gasped in exhaustion when the pain left him abruptly.  Eve went to his side, ignoring the threat that Malcolm had just made to her life.

“You’re never getting your hands on her,” Aaron retorted instinctively, wishing he had told Eve to leave the building instead of letting her come with them to be trapped like this.

“The arrogance of humankind never ceases to amaze me,” Malcolm smiled, “how do you propose to stop me?  The elves would have told you by now who I am.”

“Actually no,” Aaron bit back, “I can’t understand a word they say but I don’t have to understand them to know that you’re on parole from wherever it is they locked you up.”

“Oh,” Malcolm said thoughtfully and gazed at Legolas. “Which one are you?”

“I am Legolas,” Legolas answered, trying to decide what to do.  Melkor was making it abundantly clear that he was toying with them.  He could hear the approach of others in the distance and knew that time for them had run out.   “Your return to this world will not go unnoticed, the Valar knows that there is darkness in this world. It is only a matter of time before they come for you. If you kill us, you will only accomplish bringing about the inevitable far quicker.”

“Oh elf, you are a fool,” Malcolm replied in perfect Sindari. “If I wanted to kill any of you, you would not be here. I could have killed this worthless Maiar long ago but I could not risk his spirit crawling back to his masters with news of my rebirth. Why do you think I have allowed him to live?”

“What are you saying?” Aaron asked, hating it that he could not understand a word they were saying.

“This is becoming tiresome,” Malcolm looked over his shoulder at Aaron. 

A flare of white-hot pain ripped through both Aaron and Eve’s mind as if a dagger had pierced the walls of their skull. The agony of it was beyond comprehension and filled their world with waves and waves of unrelenting pain.  Aaron was hardly aware of Eve’s pain because he was similarly screaming from his own.

“What are you doing to them?" Elladan demanded and took a step forward. However, Malcolm swatted him aside before he could take another.  Elrohir was prompted into flinging his sword at the dark lord but Malcolm deflected the blade and sent it spinning. It struck its owner in the thigh.  

“Elrohir!” Legolas cried out and went to the elf that was groaning in pain as his sword impaled his thigh.  Legolas was seething in impotent fury, wanting to strike out at the dark enemy but restrained by reason because he knew he would never get close enough to inflict any blow.

Elrohir was bleeding onto the marble floor, his face etched in pain as he tried to remove the weapon from his leg.  Legolas did not know whether or not he ought to remove the blade because the bleeding was nowhere as bad as it could be since the steel was keeping the severed veins sealed for the moment.  Legolas realised he had to tie a tourniquet before he could even think of removing the blade from Elrohir’s leg.  At least Aaron and Eve had stopped screaming. He glanced at the two humans and saw that they were breathing hard as they recovered from their ordeal. 

“You foul beast!” Legolas swore angrily at Malcolm “You will be defeated I swear it!” 

“That’s for sure,” Aaron muttered as he stood up shakily.

Legolas stared at the doctor, realising that Aaron had heard what he had said and more importantly, understood him whilst he was speaking in elvish.

“You understand me?” Legolas stared at Aaron.

Aaron looked at him mystified that he was able to comprehend Legolas’ words without any difficulty. “What did you do to me?” He glared at Malcolm in accusation. 

“You need not sound so ungrateful,” Malcolm retorted. “I merely found it tiresome to explain myself twice. You have an old soul Doctor Stone, you and Detective McCaughley.  I recognised it the first time I met her.  As easily as I was able to make Olorin forget who he was, I am capable of making both of you remember that you could once speak the language of the elves. Consider it a parting gift, like a last meal.”

“Son of a bitch,” Aaron swore and turned to Eve. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes,” she nodded standing up. “I feel like I have a hangover but I am alright.”

“How touching,” Malcolm snorted in derision.  “Eve, say goodbye to the doctor. I have no reason to keep him alive.”

“Of course you don’t,” Aaron went to his gun and reached for it.  Malcolm was just arrogant enough to believe that he was no longer a threat to allow it.  “I’m just a human and I don’t know anything.  You can kill me and it won’t matter one bit of difference will it?”

“Aaron be quiet,” Legolas ordered, grateful that he could finally communicate with his old friend and also be capable of issuing this warning. “He will kill you, make no mistake on that.”

“I would listen to the advice of your elvish friend,” Malcolm stared at him hard.  “Provoking me will only make your death more painful.”

“You know the funny thing is,” Aaron continued to speak confusing everyone around him with his insistence to be heard.  He took the floor as if he was addressing them in a speech. “All this time, I couldn’t figure out why you just didn’t kill Moses.  I mean he’s been wandering around for four centuries. You had plenty of time to end his life at a moment’s notice and no one would even care. Look at him,” Aaron gestured to Moses who was starting to sit up, having finally emerged from his unconscious state.  “He’s just a waste.”

“So far you are not saying anything that would interest me enough to keep you alive,” Malcolm stared at him. However, in truth the CEO of Malcolm Industries was rather confused by the doctor’s sudden diatribe.

“Aaron,” Elladan spoke out. “Please be quiet. Do not provoke him any further. He does not lie when he claims he can make your death an agony.”

“Aaron what are you doing?” Eve hissed at him.

Aaron ignored them all and resumed addressing Malcolm. “All this time, I was using therapy and drugs to try and stop supernatural forces from addling this man’s mind any worse than it already was. I actually believed conventional therapy would work.  Of course I had no idea what I was dealing with. You tampered with his brain so much that I’m never going to be able to fix it even if I had him in session for the next hundred years.  As one of my interns put it, it’s the wiring that’s the problem. You messed up the part of the brain that allows him to remember.”

“Goodbye Doctor Stone,” Malcolm retorted and prepared to act.

Aaron was not about to be deterred and spoke again, “but then I remembered something Eve said.”

“And that is?” Malcolm was mildly curious enough to ask.

“That he came to our world in a body that allows him to fit in with the rest of us, so he didn’t stand out like the elves do.  If he can enter a body to look like one of us, then he can leave it and the bad wiring just as easily.”

And without saying another word, Aaron turned to Moses and fired a bullet into his skull.

 ************\r\n\r\n

Elizabeth Malcolm’s son was already eighteen years old by the time Gandalf finally found her. 

She had hidden herself well and Gandalf doubted that anyone other than those with his powers would have been able to discern her whereabouts.  As far as he knew the cultists had given up after a decade of searching, certain by now if she had not chosen to drown the child, he would be old enough to seek them out.  He had been born self-aware even if his body was that a child. As Gandalf travelled through New Amsterdam searching, he could only imagine what effect the infant must have had upon his mother. 

Despite the dark deed she had committed by allowing her body to be used to bring forth such evil progeny, Gandalf held no malice towards her.  Before even meeting Elizabeth Malcolm, he knew that she was the daughter with a nobleman and that her foolish devotion to the order had been sparked by rebellious need to escape the conformity that bound the women of this age.  She had been young, naďve and full of spirit.  It was easy for the order to trick her into believing their lies for she was only sixteen years of age when she gave birth to her child and resurrected Melkor in the world of men.

Realising too late what she had done, she had stolen her child and returned to her family whose only thought was to rid themselves of her and the scandal that she had brought upon them.  They gave her enough to disappear and that she did quite effectively for almost two decades.  When Gandalf entered the village where Elizabeth had raised her son, he found that the community had only good things to say about the woman whom they believed to be a widowed bride, left to raise a child alone. It was not her fault her son was a scoundrel.

When he finally met her, Gandalf found himself unusually touched by the woman called Elizabeth.

Even though he wore the skin of an old man, Gandalf knew how to appreciate beauty and Elizabeth was indeed a lovely creature.  With sun gold hair and peach cream skin, she reminded him greatly of the Galadriel given human form.  He could tell that she had paid dearly for her sins.  The guilt of her deed burdened the pools of her blue eyes.  She had worked for the past eighteen years as a seamstress, darning socks and mending clothes for a pittance after the money her family had provided her with was exhausted. She and her son lived in a small house with a leaky roof and though she had tried to instil in him a sense of morality, she had fought a losing battle from the day he was born.

Gandalf never actually met David until it was too late, until the blood was on his hands and he could not wash it away.  He insinuated himself in Elizabeth’s life, pretending to be a friend while he questioned her about her absent son who was prone to wandering for weeks at a time.  Some say that David went to other towns to form dalliances with maidens who were more than eager to entertain a handsome young man who was more intelligent than most and had the feel of prosperity about him. Gandalf would meet join her for breakfast and sometimes for supper, talking about the world and the way it was.  She was a smart, intelligent woman who was strong enough to raise a demon but not quite strong enough to kill it. 

Gandalf came to care about her more than he would have liked, the way he had grown attached to the hobbits and in particular Frodo Bagging, whose life he still felt responsible for ruining.  If he taken the ring from the hobbit, Frodo would not have become as ravaged as he was by the quest that followed.  Even though Gandalf knew there was no changing the manner in which fate unfolded, he still felt responsible for the hobbit’s burdened existence. Elizabeth was very much like Frodo, carrying this terrible weight upon her shoulders but being unable to cast if off as Frodo had.  Instead, she lived with the knowledge that it was impossible for her to make amends for her terrible deed.

He did not tell her what she had sired until many weeks had passed and his impatience to find David forced him to act rashly.  When she realised that he was aware of her past, her reaction had been fury at being deceived but he assured her that he was not representative of those who had tricked her into being the receptacle for Melkor’s birth.  When he told her that she had brought to life a creature that was capable of turning the world into a hell far more terrible than anything she had ever imagined, she had accepted the news rather stoically.

Elizabeth explained how she had tried to raise David as a good Christian and while he played the part, she could tell by the look in his eyes that he was humouring her.  Her efforts to teach her son the difference between right and wrong amused him and she knew that when she looked into his eyes, she did not see a child but something dark and terrible. What Gandalf had told her more or less confirmed her suspicions. There were many times she wanted to kill the child but she saw David through a mother’s eyes and in her heart there was a sliver of hope that she might be wrong, that her son was redeemable. 

When Gandalf told her the truth, he had taken that hope away as well as Elizabeth Malcolm’s last reason for living.

He found her a day later, drowned in a river not far from the village. 

Elizabeth had chosen to die in the manner she had never been able to inflict upon her son.  Gandalf remembered watching her body floating in the murky water, her golden hair spread out like a crown, her face full of terrible despair, eyes staring into nothingness whilst still filled with the knowledge of her complicity in bringing about such evil into the world.

Gandalf did not know how long he stood by the embankment watching her body float; aware only that he had killed her as surely as the water that flooded her lungs.  He had been alive for years than anyone could even begin to imagine but it was the first time, he had ever been struck with such overwhelming guilt that he wanted to die.  It was the only time the wizard could remember wishing that he could be finished with the world because existence was burden he no longer wanted.

It was in this state that he had been confronted with David Malcolm who found his mother not long after the wizard had discovered her body.  David knew exactly who Gandalf was and why his mother was dead.  The spirit that was Melkor felt a slight twinge that could be called sadness at her demise; after all, she had been a mother to him for the past eighteen years.  Perhaps it was why he attacked Gandalf with such ferocity that the wizard was incapable of defending himself on any level or perhaps Gandalf was so guilty, he simply refused to.  

By the time David left the old man behind, the person who had been Gandalf was gone and in his place was a frail old man with no memory of who he had been or what he had done. 

Ironically, David thought he was being merciful. 

 ************\r\n\r\n

The back of Moses’ skull exploded outward, spraying Eve who was closest to him with blood and grey matter. She uttered a short cry of both horror and shock as she was bathed in red, astonished by what Aaron had done. 

Aaron saw the surprise on Moses’ face a split second before his features disappeared in a bloody mess of ruined flesh.  He knew that until the day he died, Aaron would never be able to rid himself of that terrible image.  For Aaron, the entire scene slowed to a crawl and every second of the grisly vision before him was played out in vivid detail. The power behind the 45-calibre bullet caused Moses’ head to snap backwards sharply, snapping his neck so violently Aaron thought it might have broken.  There was no time for Moses to express any sound before his whole body fell against the floor in heap. Blood immediately pooled around Moses’ skull as, a tide of crimson spreading outward. 

“NO!” 

Aaron heard Malcolm scream in nothing less than absolute fury at what he had done, a fraction of time before he was flung across the room like a ragged doll.  Aaron landed against another wall, his body forcing a protest from his lips in reaction to the pain.  Malcolm was seething in rage, his fists clenched and waving as he regarded the dead man before him.  Aaron felt blood in his mouth as he landed on his stomach, a wave of dizziness rushing through his mind as he saw Eve standing over Moses’ dead body shaking.  

Elladan and Elrohir were also staring at him in horror, doubt creeping into their eyes as they tried to understand what it was Aaron had tried to do.  Only Legolas did not seem to look upon him with that terrible accusation.  Instead, the elf’s brows were furrowed as if trying to work out a problem in his head that he had not previously anticipated. Aaron hoped that Legolas would grasp the truth and not condemn him for what he had done, any more than Aaron would condemn himself if he was wrong and had just committed cold bloody murder.

At that moment, the door swung open and Sandra Collins ran into the room with more of Malcolm’s men in tow.  The woman surveyed the scene before barking orders at her subordinates to secure the room.

“What happened?” Sandra looked at Malcolm in confusion.

“KILL THEM!”  Malcolm was so angry he barely able to enunciate the words. “KILL THEM ALL! STARTING WITH HIM!”  He pointed at Aragorn. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Aaron found his voice to speak.  “If you know what’s good for you Sandra, you’d start running now. They’ll be coming.”

“SILENCE!” Malcolm strode towards Aaron, picking up the sword that Elladan had thrown at him. “I am going to tear the heart out of you myself!” 

“Whose they?” Eve demanded, wanting an explanation for what Aaron had just done. She had to believe there was a reason for what he had done. 

“The Valar,” Legolas answered for Aaron.  “Your intention was to send Gandalf to Mandos so that he could tell Manwe the truth? You knew that is what Melkor feared the most, that Gandalf could die and expose him!“ 

“Yeah,” Aaron nodded. “It’s the same reason why he couldn’t kill you three. You’d go to the same place wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” Elladan replied, greatly relieved that Aaron had killed Gandalf for good reason. “We would enter the halls of Mandos.”

“It was the same when Gandalf was killed fighting the Balrog at Moria,” Legolas replied, wondering if Aaron retained that memory or had this simply been a gamble he was desperate enough to take.  “He was sent back because the Valar did not think he had completed his work.”

“What are you waiting for?" Malcolm glared at Sandra as he neared Aaron, preparing to swing his blade, “kill them!” 

“NOW LEGOLAS!” Aaron cried out. 

Legolas reached into the fold of his tunics and found the small box that Aaron had given him to hold.  His clothes were more capable of hiding the device than Aaron’s own. Aaron had anticipated that after pulling the trigger on Gandalf, they would need to make a hasty exist because Malcolm would have nothing to lose by killing all of them.  The elf slid his finger over the button and pushed it, uncertain of what was going to happen. 

If the destruction of the T Bird had been calamitous, than the explosion caused by the C4 he had left hidden in a pot plant at the far end of the lobby blew out the entire floor and incinerated everything in sight.  The shockwave that followed the detonation could be felt in the violent quake throughout the building.  Wall fittings detached from the ceiling as anything attached to the wall came lose and shattered on the floor.  Plaster from the walls and objects shattered on the ground as the floor beneath them trembled.  The building seemed to heave in protest and Aaron hoped that Nicky had been right that the explosion was enough to make a lot of noise and not do the unthinkable, like actually bring down the structure.

Aaron saw Malcolm standing over him with a sword, so enraged that the man was prepared to kill him with his hand instead of his formidable powers.  Aaron did not know whether or not his gamble had worked or would succeed in time to save his life but he was not about to wait and see. Kicking his foot out, he struck Malcolm on the knee, driving the dark lord to his knee.  While Malcolm reeled in surprise at the physical combat, Aaron turned his gun on the man and pulled the trigger. For the second time that day, Aaron emptied a full round into Malcolm’s chest.  

It appeared that while the entity called Melkor could use his telekinesis to prevent swords and arrows from reaching him, bullets at point blank rage took a little more effort than his furious mind was capable.  Despite his powers, Melkor inhabited a human body and if one could slip past his formidable powers, he could die a mortal death like any man.  Whether or not he went to Mandos was another thing entirely.

“You bastard!” Sandra screamed like a woman possessed and race towards Aaron when Malcolm staggered backwards, somewhat surprised that he had been shot.

Eve tackled her to the floor before Sandra could reach Aaron. Both women tumbled to the floor as Sandra shrieked like a woman possessed, half insane from fury.  Eve straddled her quickly and grabbed her hair with both hands before slamming the woman’s head against the hard floor.  Sandra went limp immediately without further protest. 

Malcolm’s men reluctant to open fire when their employer and his associate were in the room rushed the elves.  This time Legolas switched to his more conventional weapons while Elladan retrieved his sword to battle the human agents of Melkor.  The archer immediately proved why he was so deadly with the weapon and promptly shot three of the men with arrows while Elladan managed to injure the others enough for them to consider leaving for help or reinforcements.
 
Aaron approached Moses slowly, his gun hanging limply at his side as he saw Eve tying Sandra up with the electrical cord she had detached from a damaged lamp.   Eve, who was a cop on the force with experience in dealing with everything from coke addicts to serial killers, was more than capable of handling one insane corporate executive.   If Aaron were not so sick of killing, he would have gratefully ended her life for what she had done to Stuart.  Certainly, she was just as guilty as Malcolm for the death of his old friend. 

In truth, Aaron was fighting the nausea in his stomach at what he had been forced to do.  He had taken a life and even if it was two beings that were far from human, Aaron could not forget the look on Moses face when he pulled the trigger.  He had never wanted to be driven to this. Apart of him wished he could resolve the matter some other way but Moses’ body was a trap far more effective than any made of steel or stone.  Aaron had promised to free his mind and he had kept that promise even though it meant killing the body.

Moses’ features were barely recognisable. The man who had been his patient, who had opened a world he never imagined, was dead and by his hand.  Aaron knew he did what was necessary but that did not excuse the fact that he had violated his Hippocratic oath to do no harm.  He was a doctor, he prided himself in being able to preserve life not destroy it.

“Aaron,” Legolas appeared at his side, recognising the dismayed expression across his face. “You did what had to be done.  If Gandalf were here, he would be the first to agree.”

“I’ve never taken a life before Legolas,” Aaron met the elf’s gaze, grateful that he was capable of talking to Legolas.  It was strange how when he opened his mouth to answer, it did not even feel he was speaking another language. It seemed almost second nature to him.  “I wish there had been some other way and I don’t even know if I’m right.”

“You were…” Legolas started to say and then corrected himself; “Aragorn was with me when Gandalf told us that he was sent back because his work was unfinished. We had seen him die and we had mourned him accordingly.  He is a Maia and that they do not live and breathe as we do. You did not condemn him die Aaron, you freed him from the prison of his body.  He will do what is necessary and return to us as he did once before, I know this.”

“Its good to be able to talk to you Legolas,” Aaron smiled grateful for Legolas’ words.  “Thank you.”

Legolas opened his mouth to answer but the desire to do so melted away as something else speared through his consciousness with even more urgency.   The elf’s gaze swung away from Aaron just as a terrible feeling of dread swept through him.  Aaron noticed the change in Legolas’ disposition and followed his eyes as Legolas turned around.  Even though he lacked the senses of the elf, he could feel the room becoming colder and saw shadows forming around them.  Aaron was struck with the memory of how Moses was able to project such ominous foreboding during their sessions.  In those brief instances, Aaron had almost been able to see the power spirit that he was, even if he could not explain how.

 “Aaron, Legolas!” Elladan who was tending to the wound on his brother’s leg, shouted at them in warning. 

John Malcolm’s body had been lying motionless since Aaron emptied a full clip into the man’s body.  He should be dead but as Legolas and Aaron turned around, with Elladan’s shout in their ears, they saw something was rising from Malcolm’s body.  It emerged from Malcolm like smoke rising from flame, in wispy tendrils that quickly swirled into a shape.  Something that was not quite a man materialised before them.  It was as if the air had suddenly strangled all the light out of itself and was becoming a dark void of infinity in front of their eyes. 

”What is it?” Eve demanded, horror quickly overcoming her senses.

Neither Aaron nor Legolas answered her but they knew it was not Malcolm. Malcolm was the empty shell lying on the floor lifeless before them.   The silhouette taking shape before them with its wraithlike substance was more than capable of harming them.  Undoubtedly this was the essence of what had been inhabiting the bodies of Elizabeth’ Malcolm’s progeny for the past 400 years.  This was Melkor in his true state even though he was devoid of the body that had allowed him to rule Middle earth from Angband. His spirit could not be vanquished and it was this same malignant force that that had been unleashed from its receptacle of flesh with the death of John Malcolm. 

Once his mind was capable of releasing itself from the stupor of horror and shock at seeing Melkor before him, Legolas fumbled to load his bow, his hands trembling in fright as he struggled to arm his weapon.  He was never afforded the opportunity. A great arm, like a curtain of black lashed out at him, swatting the elf as if he were nothing.  Legolas sailed across the air, landing on a table and crushing it with his weight at the hard impact.  

“Legolas!” Aaron shouted, forgetting that he was in as much dire need as the elf was no longer capable of hearing him.  Legolas was sprawled across the broken remains of the table, unmoving and unconscious. 

Suddenly, he felt himself lifted of the ground. Something ice cold was wrapping thick fingers around his neck and squeezing hard. Aaron choked as he dangled over the floor, staring at the beast’s yellowed eyes, narrowed with calculation and hatred. He could feel his windpipe crushed against his spine as the air was forced out of his lungs and his vision started to blur.   Melkor’s evil soaked into his skin. It made his heart clench in fear and as Aaron struggled helplessly within the dark lord’s grip, he came to the despairing realization that he may have ultimately doomed Melkor but Aaron was never going to see his defeat.

“Doom me to the Void will you, human?” Melkor’s voice escaped him like the low rumble of an earthquake about to wreak untold disaster upon the world.  “I will not go alone. You will pay for my destruction with your own death.   Perhaps I will not kill you but pull you apart, like the wings off a fly! How would you like that doctor?  Do you think that you will be able to heal anything ever again if I tore your arms and legs from your body and left you a limbless cripple?”

Aaron could not speak.  The invisible talons around his throat allowed nothing to escape his lips.  He could hear Eve screaming his name but the lack of oxygen was making it difficult to focus. The only thing he could see clearly was the black hatred in Melkor’s eyes.   Aaron struggled valiantly but he knew he would not break the vise like grip around his throat.  With a wail of anguish that could not be spoken, Aaron despaired in silence as his vision started to blacken.

Eve watched Melkor strangling Aaron with horror, determined to help the man she loved even though she had no idea how.  She grabbed Sandra’s gun and ran towards Aaron and the beast, not even certain that bullets were going to help.

“Let him go you bastard!” She screamed in desperation, firing into the darkness of the beast’s body. The explosions of gunfire ripped through the air but Eve felt her heart sink in despair when she realised that the bullets were passing straight through Melkor and had little affect upon him.  She looked around desperately and saw the dagger that Legolas had thrown.  Retrieving it, she slashed at his dark form, frantically trying to hurt him.  She could see Aaron’s struggles weakening. If he was not released from Melkor’s grip, he was going to die.

“Let him go!” She kept screaming at him but her anger was dissolving quickly into despair.  She couldn’t lose him! Not now, not after she had finally found him!  

“Watch him die,” Melkor looked at her evilly.  “Watch me crush his body and devour his soul.  I will not go alone into the Void! I will make him share my prison!”

Elladan had retrieved his sword and rushed to aid Eve who was bravely trying to save Aaron from death. Elrohir was crawling towards Legolas despite his own injury and Elladan knew that he was capable of taking care of himself.  Elladan did not know if he would be any more effective than Eve had been in her attack against Melkor but he was determined to try nonetheless.  As horrified as he had been over what Aaron had done to the body of Mithrandir, Elladan could not help but admire the acumen that had allowed Aaron to deduce that Mithrandir’s death was the only way to free the Maia and send word to Valinor regarding the nature of the evil they had feared for so long.  

He should not have to die for his courage.  

The former prince of Imladris was almost near Eve as she slashed wildly away at Melkor’s shadowy form, desperate to free Aaron from the dark lord’s grip. He could see the tears running down her face, tears of anguish because she knew she was not succeeding and that her failure would mean the death of her love.  Elladan ached in pain, knowing what effect losing him would have upon her.  He remembered all too well how as Undomiel, she had simply pined away and died when Estel had left this world.  They had been together for a 120 years and without him, she ceased to be.  They were the two halves of the same soul, connected forever and incomplete without each other.

Suddenly, there was a flash of bright white light in the centre of the room. It was like a bolt of lightning had suddenly struck the floor and the waves of brilliance blinded them all.  The ceiling above them were suddenly ripped away with a tremendous shudder, stone and steel torn away from the framework like a child tearing down a tower of bricks.  Debris rained down around their ears, some in such large chunks that Elladan was forced to take cover as the fragments of brick and dirt crumbled around him.  He looked over his shoulder and saw Elrohir trying hard to pull Legolas out of harm’s way.  Realising that Elrohir could not manage on his own, Elladan returned to his brother.

“What is happening?” Elrohir demanded as a rush of wind flowed through the room.  Overhead there was nothing left, just the gathering of dark clouds and the flashing of lightning as if the heavens were about to pass some terrible judgement upon them.

“I do not know,” Elladan truly mystified as he dragged Legolas to the far end of the room with Elrohir limping painfully to keep up with him. There was no real place for shelter as the top of the building was now open like a gaping wound, exposed to the elements. Winds blew at them with fierce intensity, causing them to squint in order to shield their eyes. 

Something was happening, something Elladan suspected was not Melkor’s doing

 ************\r\n\r\n

Aaron had stopped struggling when the roof of the Monolith was ripped away from the rest of the building.   Eve could see his eyes had closed and knew that if he was not dead yet, he soon would be. However, Melkor’s grip upon him slackened at the sudden destruction, as if he were surprised at what was happening. Sinister eyes of yellow stared at the rumbling skies above.  Thick, grey cumulous clouds about to give birth to a storm of disastrous proportions came alive with lightning. For the first time since he had taken on his true form, Eve saw real fear in the demon’s eyes.  He let out an angry wail, like a banshee’s cry that ripped through their ears and forced Eve to cover her own to protect herself from the terrible sound of fury.

“NO!” Melkor screamed angry as he released his grip on Aaron. 

Eve bolted the moment Aaron was free, running so fast that she did not even notice that her bare feet was being cut painfully by the shards of glass on the floor.  She skidded next to him and saw that he was very much unconscious, red welts discoloured his neck.

“Aaron!” She dragged him into her lap.  “Aaron, wake up!”

The doctor did not answer and Eve was beset with panic as she realised that his breathing was shallow.  It was a miracle he was not dead yet.

“Come on Doc,” she rolled him flat on to his back and cleared his breathing passages in order to incite his breathing. Aaron did not react to her touch and Eve found herself performing CPR on him for the lack of knowing what else to do.  

She was not supposed to be in this position! 

She was the cop.  She was the one that handled the guns and the bad guys and he was the one who was supposed to heal the sick!  Why was he always so maddening! Tears were running down her face in frustration as she pressed her lips to his, refusing to let him go.  She could not lose him! They had shared nothing together except this terrible ordeal! She refused to believe that fate would only allow them three days together.

“Please Aaron,” she begged softly as she took a deep breath and resumed the resuscitation procedure, “don’t do to this me! You can’t leave me now!”

Aaron still remained motionless.
 
 ************\r\n\r\n


“Legolas,” Elladan tried to revive the elf as Elrohir secured the makeshift bandage around his thigh to staunch the bleeding caused by being impaled through the leg by his own weapon.  “Legolas wake up!”

The side of Legolas’ face was turning a deep shade of purple, a stark contrast against such pale skin. Elladan feared he had sustained an injury to his skull, which would require more sophisticated healing than neither he nor Elrohir was capable of.  Despite living as long as they both had, neither Elladan nor Elrohir had developed Elrond’s superior healing skills during their years at Valinor.  The healing arts were unnecessary in a place where death only came during old age and it had been close to a hundred thousand years since anyone had died in Valinor. 

Fortunately, Legolas was made of studier stuff than most elves and Elladan let out a soft sigh of relief when he saw the Prince of Mirkwood’s eyes fluttering open.  This sign of consciousness was followed by a loud groan of pain. A completely understandable reaction since Melkor had flung him aside as if he was nothing. The air was filled with Melkor’s screams of outrage and anger.  The cracks of lightening tearing across the grey sky in spidery tendrils of blue brought with it equally deafening bursts of thunder. 

Upon regaining consciousness, Legolas’ mind was filled with the din he could hear around him and it hastened his mind quickly to a more alert state.  His last memories rushed back to him in a flood.

“Where is Aaron?” Legolas demanded. “What is happening?”

“I do not know,” Elladan shook his head. “I think that Aaron’s plan to send Mithrandir to Mandos might have succeeded.”

Suddenly, Melkor’s voice was silenced by voices.

His screams dissolved into nothingness and with it went the roar of thunder and the lashing winds. The world seemed to drain of every sound except the voice.  Soon there was more than one voice, many in fact, all blending together despite their differences, each inspiring their own emotive response at the hearing.  The elves felt it seep into their bones and take possession of the soul living within their hearts. The voices distinguishable at first in their individuality soon merged into a symphony of sound, the likes of which the world had never heard before or would ever hear again. Their harmony could not be described in words because not even modern musicians with their vast knowledge of musical appreciation had ever heard anything resembling it. 

It was new and yet very, very old.

The elves knew what it was. It was ingrained into their history as well as into the fabric of their creation.  The same being that had made the voices had given them life and though they could not compare in their songs to the grandeur of what they were hearing now, they recognised the beauty of what they were listening.  None of them spoke because they could bear to interrupt the strange, powerful voices that were sweeping from the sky above them.  The elves had heard the voices before but never like this, unrestrained, beautiful and with specific purpose. 

The voices became the Great Music.

In a time ancient beyond the elves’ earliest days in the world, the Great Music had gone into the Void and it was not void.  The music created with each voice giving life to its own purpose until the harmony of voices became the creation of all.  The Great Music had never been sung again with such power because of its ability to shape so much.  In Valinor, the elves heard the singing but it was slight and it gave to their existence but they had never heard it like this.  It spread beyond the walls of the Monolith. It swept across the city like a great wind.  People paused in the streets, captured by music, frozen in place as the beauty made everything hard disappear.  

There was no one who did not stop to listen, no one who did not feel tears in their eyes as their heart were lifted to a place beyond the flesh, to see things that were greater than their mundane existence. For a brief instant, the more enlightened felt the harmony with all things that elves had known since their emergence from the Mere of Cuineven.  Starlight sparkled in their eyes for just a glimmer of the moment. Tears came, smiles stretched across faces that were jaded and worn from too much ugliness. Hope came alive with the Great Music and there was none who heard that was not unchanged by it even if a little.  Later on, it could be argued that it was a mere aberration but there would not be one person who did not secretly long to hear it again.

The elves were similarly effected as they heard the Great Music of the Ainur in all its glory. Aaron was right; bringing to an end Mithrandir’s life had been the only way to end the threat of Melkor.  He had sent Mithrandir to Mandos and in doing so, allowed the Maia to bring news of Melkor’s existence in the world to the Valar who acted accordingly.  They were here, formless and unseen but their presence was undeniable in their song and their song had only one purpose now.  It was to bring an end to their wayward sibling.

The Great Music became louder until it filled the ears of everyone present with its power. It radiated like a force unseen and shuddered through their bones.  They could hear nothing else.  However, a voice spoke quietly in Legolas’ head, a voice that speared through the music and was one he recognised.  It was Mithrandir and his words were clear. 

You must leave now. 

 ************\r\n\r\n

 
Through the fog of his unconscious state, Aaron Stone heard music. 

It was the most beautiful music he had ever heard, making the great symphonies of Mozart and Beethoven sound like noise in comparison. In the dark place he was struggling to escape, its power was enough to pierce through the shadows with such brilliance that Aaron could not completely look at it for fear of blindness. Yet when it chased away the darkness, when all he could hear was this music that he would dream of until the day he died, he also heard something else, something with as much power though it was made only for him. 

“Please Aaron, don’t do to this me! You can’t leave me now!”

Eve. 

He could hear Eve!  He walked through the light and heard her voice becoming louder and louder. The desperation in it made him hasten his pace. He did not even notice when he started running. He wanted to answer her but his throat hurt and making words was hard. His lungs felt heavy for some reason as if he could not breathe well.  However, the closer he neared Eve’s voice, the easier it became to draw breath. Aaron forced himself to answer her.  He had to.  He could not bear the anguish he was hearing in her voice.  

“Eve!”

He opened his eyes and saw her kneeling before him, his word having been drowned by the music that was all around them.  He thought it had been only in his mind but it was everywhere, like the air.  Aaron found himself cradled in Eve’s arms and when he moved, she let go of him and he saw that there were tears of joy on her face.  She embraced him hard, planting soft kisses over his face as she expressed her relief with more emotion than he was accustomed from her.  When their lips met, it was the sweetest kiss he had ever had in his life because the Great Music seemed to make everything more beautiful than he could possibly imagine.

The tender moment was broken when he felt Legolas’ arm on his shoulder.  Both Aaron and Eve looked up at the elf who appeared almost as worn and exhausted as they did but with a note of urgency in his eyes.  Legolas glanced briefly as Melkor, who was standing at the room, screaming insanely even though nothing of it could be heard against the power of the Great Music. The malignant creature was no longer screaming in fury and defiance but rather in pain.  Aaron surmised that whatever he had set in motion by killing Moses had well and truly taken effect.  The shuddering the music was having upon the walls and the structure told him that it was a good idea to leave the Monolith now. 

Shakily, Aaron allowed Legolas and Eve to help him to his feet as they started to find a way out of the beleaguered building.  Elladan was already doing the same with Elrohir.   They made their way across the debris-covered floor when they noticed Sandra Collin’s unconscious form on the floor, where Eve had left her.  Eve looked at Aaron in question at whether or not they should take her with them.  Aaron thought of Stuart who had died so needlessly because of this woman and made his decision.  

Let her face judgement with her master.

Aaron turned away without saying a word and resumed forward. Neither Legolas nor Eve questioned the decision because they knew the depths of Sandra’s devotion to her master and a fanatic might attempt to resurrect her master like those poor misguided fools of 400 years ago.  If the powers that be wanted her to live, Aaron was certain that they would find a way to see it happen.  For the moment, he only cared about getting Eve and his friends out of here. 

 ************\r\n\r\n

With the structural integrity of the building failing, it was not wise to take the elevators and so the journey to the ground was long and arduous with Elrohir having the worst of it because of his injury.  Aaron had recovered well enough to support himself as they hurried down the stairwell.  The tremors to the building were becoming more violent with each floor they descended and Aaron supposed that if there was any consolation to be had in what was about to happen to the Monolith, was the fact that the disturbance would have seen the building evacuated.  

Not all of Malcolm’s employees were aware that their master was a dark lord from beyond.   Most of them were probably just innocent workers, going about their day-to-day lives without any notion that Malcolm was a dark lord whose ambitions had been to create a second hell on earth.  The Great Music had not abated as it chased them all they way to the lobby of the building.  When Aaron emerged, the charred remains of the room where he and the elves had first begun their mission of rescue confronted him.   Both the explosion from the T Bird and the C4 had turned all the walls and floors black with ash.  Marble was split, concrete was fractured, and steel columns looked dangerously compromised. There was not one window of the glass façade remaining and what furniture there had been were now piles of ashes and cinders.

They emerged through the front of the building and saw that people were gathered in the street, standing still where they were on the sidewalks, in the shop fronts and even cars had come a halt as they heard the Great Music and was mesmerized by it.  Some were weeping with joy at its harmony, some were smiling happily and others merely listened with deep appreciation. Aaron tried not to be moved by the united expressions of hope on everyone’s faces as he, Eve, Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir left the Monolith behind, aware that judgement was about to be passed on Melkor and his Iron Fortress.

 ************\r\n\r\n

What the elves had been unable to perceive but Melkor could, was that he could not only hear the voices but also see them. He could see them all. Manwe, Ulmo Aule and the others who had been his brethren when he was counted among their number and when they were all children of Illuvutar.  They had emerged for the first since the War of the Wrath. In anguish, he knew he was lost.  He had tried to keep the Maia alive in order to prevent this very thing from happening. As long as they were ignorant of him, he could be assured of survival but now it was over.  

They had come for him.

When the song reached its climax. Melkor’s form if anyone had been present to see it, erupted outward like a rolling cloud of black smoke following a violent explosion.  His final scream was drowned in the Great Music as his spirit was dissolved into nothingness forever.

 ************\r\n\r\n

From a distance, Aaron and the others watched as the Malcolm Building exploded almost as dramatically as the destruction of the towers. Glass flew in all directions as the dark structure began its disintegration, starting from the remains of the top floor and working its way down to the ground.  People seemed to regain their senses at that point, all too familiar with what was coming after the tragedy of 9/11.  They scattered quickly beyond the reach of the blast radius, moving as fast as they could to a minimum safe distance as the Monolith continued in its destruction.  Aaron, Eve and the elves became lost in the crowds hurrying away from the building.

There was a tremendous roar as the building’s destruction ripped through the air and Aaron was reminded absurdly of the fabled destruction of the Empire State Building in Independence Day.  The destruction was spectacular as well heart stopping.  Despite the danger, almost everyone was compelled to look.  The Monolith disappeared before their very eyes, replaced by fire and smoke that billowed into the sky.  The clouds above where the building once stood parted, allowing the smoke to rise into the sky.  The thunder and lightening had ceased and the sky despite the fire and receding clouds was clear and peaceful again  

The Great Music was no more.  

Those who had heard and remembered it appeared somewhat sedate in their reactions considering the destruction they had just witnessed.  New Yorkers were resilient people and if September 11th had taught them anything, it was how to endure in the face of catastrophe.  However, for once, they were given something precious to make that burden a little easier to bear. 

“Where they…?” Eve asked softly, looking at Elladan for an answer. 

Elladan knew who she meant by ‘they’.   “They are the Valar but when they sang like this, they were called the Ainur.”

“It was so beautiful,” Eve, replied, moisture in her eyes.  “I could feel everything when I heard them sing.”

“As we do,” Elrohir nodded. “In Valinor, we hear them sing often but not like this, never like this.”

Eve could see that her brothers from her former life were just as deeply affected by this as she.  She felt a wave of affection for both of them and knew that it did not matter that she did not remember being Undomiel.  Malcolm in his efforts to save himself the bother of translation had opened her mind to their language and for that much she was grateful to the dark lord whom she had no doubt was destroyed along with his building.  Eve hugged them both warmly and felt for the first time in too long, that perhaps she was not alone as she thought.  She still had family.

Aaron was staring at the burning debris of the Monolith in deep thought.  This nightmare was finally over but Moses was not here.  Aaron had to kill Moses to save him and a part of the doctor could not be comforted by that thought, even with the destruction of John Malcolm. 

“Aaron,” Legolas placed a hand on his shoulder, taking note of the sadness on Aaron’s face.  “Are you well?” 

“Moses…Gandalf should be here,” Aaron replied softly, his gaze still fixed on the destroyed building. 
 
“He should be,” Legolas nodded in agreement. “But this errand had to be undertaken by the Valar themselves, they could not send him to accomplish it in their stead.”

”I killed him,” Aaron met Legolas’ gaze. “I know I did it to save him but I still ended his life.”

“Aaron, do you know how I knew that we had to leave?” Legolas posed the question to him. 
 
Aaron blinked, “well I thought you figured the whole thing was going to blow because you know these Valar.”

“No,” Legolas shook his head. “I was as captured by the music as you.  I only knew to leave because I heard Gandalf’s voice in my head. It told me that we had to leave immediately.”

“You heard…” Aaron started to speak.

“You were right,” Legolas cut him off.  “Gandalf is not human. He is what we call Maiar. They are spirits who aid the Valar; they have no flesh, as we know it.  They exist in whatever form is convenient for them at the time.  Moses was only a body and you killed a body, you did not kill Gandalf himself. At this minute, I know that he is Valinor because his task here was done. He was sent to find the darkness and he has done that.  All you did by killing the body was send him on his way much faster.”

“So he is really alive?” Aaron declared, being able to see that Legolas was not lying to him in order to assuage his own guilt.  “Back in Valinor?”

“Yes,” Legolas nodded.  “No doubt when we return, he will be full of stories.”

Aaron started to smile, “I’m glad.  You can take him my bill.”

Legolas rolled his eyes, “I will never understand the humour of men.”


Chapter 11 - The Anemone

THREE WEEKS LATER.

Aaron stared across the pier where the boat was docked and saw Eve waving at him. 

He offered her a smile and returned the gesture before resuming his journey across the wooden deck towards the motor yacht that he and Eve had bought almost a week ago.  The Anemone was a trawler-style motor yacht, 75 feet in length with a 20-foot beam with a top speed of 12 knots.   It came complete with spacious living areas and had cost Eve and Aaron virtually every cent they possessed to buy.  In less than a day it would be ready to sail from its dock at Point Pleasant Boro where it had been berthed for the last week.   

Eve had received a hefty settlement on the insurance for her house, spitefully destroyed by Sandra Collins during the woman’s rabid pursuit of them.   While the house had been a family heirloom, it also had the good fortune of being situated on prime real estate.  Aaron had sold his apartment, choosing to leave New York while he still could. The destruction of the Malcolm Building had unfortunately left him in a rather serious predicament.  Too many people had seen him drive into the lobby of the structure prior to its destruction on T Bird rampage.  While they had yet to place a name to his description, Aaron knew it was only a matter of time before a warrant was issued for his arrest. Thus he had wanted to be well away from New York before that happened.

Unfortunately, Sandra had ensured that he would have nothing to leave behind either.  He discovered the day after the Monolith’s destruction that he was out of a job.  The hospital board, no doubt pressured days earlier by John Malcolm, had fired him for his unauthorised removal of Moses from the premises.  Since Aaron was unable to tell them what had become of the old man, they saw no reason to rescind that decision.   Eve had taken a leave of absence from the force and since she and Aaron had no connection to each other that anyone was aware, remained unscathed by the fallout following the death of John Malcolm.  

Aaron had converted almost everything he owned into cash and departed New York for Point Pleasant, where Eve had joined him and the elves to decide their next move.  The elves had aided in the financial aspect of his flight as well, contributing the gold they had intended to use as currency in the new world.  Pooling their resources, he and Eve had bought the boat and still retained enough money to ensure they could remain at large for quite some time without financial difficulties. The vessel had been a first priority because the elves would need to return to Valinor now that their quest was complete.  Although Legolas wanted to stay, it was becoming increasingly clear that this age was impossible for elves to remain unnoticed.  They were too different and the modern was too alien a place of them to acclimate.  In truth, Aaron wished them gone because he and Eve were unable to offer the elves sanctuary when they themselves, were fugitives. 

Recovering the grey ship they had arrived in was an impossibility since it was still sitting in impound somewhere in Bay Shore.  Although the elves had not liked it much, they were forced to rely on the modern equivalent make the journey home.  Aaron’s plan was to see the elves safely from these shores before he and Eve would make for Canada.  He wished she did not have to give up her life in New York but Eve was determined to be with him and a part of Aaron could not help feeling wonderfully happy for that.  Whatever happened in the future, they would face it together.

“Hey Doc,” Eve greeted as he made his way across the gangplank into the Anemone’s main deck.  “Bring me my Oreos?”

“How do you keep that great body with the junk you eat?” Aaron teased as he reached into the box of supplies he had been sent out to get and handed Eve her favourite snack. 

“I shoot a lot of people,” Eve deadpanned. “Its great exercise.”

“Then I think I better get you a thigh master instead,” Aaron retorted giving her a look, never being able to tell whether or not she was kidding about things like that. 

“That better be because of some medical need to save lives and not because I need it,” she stared at him through narrowed eyes as she tore open the Oreos. “Besides, its not my fault I’ve run out. We have elves who have never had chocolate in their hundred thousand year existence and they’re making up for lost time.”

Aaron decided not to ask her to elaborate as he followed Eve into the main cabin where the elves were presently staring at the television set that was inbuilt into the Anemone’s recreation area, complete with a small video library.  Aaron, who knew something about boats, having chartered one on occasion to go fishing with Stuart, ensured that the Anemone was extremely well equipped. There were GPS units and solar panels attached to rechargeable batteries capable of generating sufficient power to run the electrical appliances on board for an indeterminate point of time.  Of course, none of these were as important as the ten cases of Coke in the galley.  

Aaron wondered if Coca Cola knew what a potential market they could have in Valinor.  

The elves would be spending months on the ocean and Aaron was determined that they did so with some creature comforts.  He had shown them over the past two weeks how to handle the vessel and was reasonably certain that they were capable of sailing the craft on their own once it came time for them to part company.  He was astonished at how quickly they learnt and supposed that if proper studies were ever conducted, it would be discovered that elves had a higher learning capability than humans. 

 “Any word on whether there’s a warrant out for me yet?” Aaron asked Eve quietly in English because it was virtually impossible to keep anything out of the elves hearing. 

“I’m not sure,” Eve confessed sadly. “I can’t make too many inquiries without someone wondering why I’m so interested. At the moment it makes things simpler if people think I don’t know you. They won’t look to me as a lead to finding you.”

“I know,” Aaron frowned with annoyance. “I never thought it was going to end like this.”

“Its not going to end at all,” Eve said leaning over and giving him a comforting kiss, trying to make him feel better. “Once we get out of here, everything will be alright.”

“In Canada,” Aaron shrugged unhappily not at all looking forward to the idea.  “You think that bastard could have fixed it so I could speak French as well elvish.”

“Well your average dark lord is very near sighted,” Eve pointed out, wishing there was more she could do for him than offer him unconditional support. 

Eve could not believe that he was being punished in this way.  If only people knew that John Malcolm was a monster in the literal sense that could have brought about the destruction of the world then Aaron would have nothing to fear.  He had saved them all because of what he had done but instead of being hailed as a hero; Aaron was quickly becoming the prime suspect in the destruction of the Malcolm Building.  Eve knew that the net was closing, far more than she made Aaron aware.  It was a matter of time before the identification on him was complete and she dreaded to think what would happen then.

Suffice to say, they had to leave for Canada soon. 

“Hey guys,” Aaron greeted the elves and noted that their eyes were fixed firmly on the television set and found it very disturbing that it was a certain warrior princess that was holding their interest so. 

“Hello Aaron,” Elrohir greeted from the sofa, his eyes not moving from the screen. “ We were watching the tales of Xena. She is indeed a great warrior in battle, though they do not reveal of what kingdom she is a princess of.”

Aaron gave Eve an accusing stare and asked with sarcasm, “you let them watch that?” 

“It was either Xena or Baywatch,” Eve retorted as she liberated the box of groceries from him and took them into what passed for the yacht’s galley.

For the sake of his continued existence, Aaron refrained from saying he would have opted for the other choice. Instead  he turned back to Elrohir, “you do know that it isn’t real right? I explained it to you.”

“But the tales of her adventures cannot be lies,” Elladan replied. “Even if they are as you explained earlier, recreations.”

“Yes they’re recreations of stories,” Aaron answered, wondering if he had lost something in the translation when he had tried to explain the concept of television to the elves.  “However, those stories are no more real than the rest of it.”

“Then what about the beasts?” Legolas asked. “Would you have us believe that the creatures the lady is battling are falsehoods as well? I do not think this enormous worm is a creation.”

Aaron decided at this point that explaining that the mythical creatures they were seeing were in actual fact CGI creations was far more trouble than it was worth and let the matter go.  Besides, he was not getting into a philosophical debate about Xena with a bunch of elves.  The whole thing sounded absurd enough as it was. 

“Never mind,” he conceded defeat.  

“Have you preparations to leave been completed as well?” Legolas asked Aaron, aware that the healer was facing severe consequences of his actions against Melkor.  While Legolas did not fully understand how Aaron could be held responsible for the death of the dark lord by the rest of his people, he it pained him to know that Aaron was made fugitive because of it.

“More or less,” Aaron nodded slowly. “When you are ready to leave tomorrow, Eve and I will be heading up north.”

“You did a great service to your people,” Elladan remarked unhappily. “You should not be punished for it.”

“I’ll be fine,” Aaron replied and knew that he would be because Eve was with him and because he had done what was right, even if he were a little melancholy about the outcome of those convictions. 

Suddenly, Legolas’ eyes hardened and he met Aaron’s gaze sharply. “Something draws near.”

“What?” Aaron stared at him blankly. “What do you mean something draws near?” 

There should be nothing drawing near! Melkor was destroyed, Sandra Collins was dead, her body recovered within the debris of the Monolith and Malcolm Industries had fallen into receivership when stocks plummeted at the death of its CEO.  Yet there was no denying the danger that had suddenly risen because Elladan and Elrohir were also exhibiting the same perception.  He heard Eve’s footsteps running up the galley and joining them, her expression filled with worry.

“Aaron, I just saw at least three suits asking questions across the wharf.  They look like FBI.” Eve said out of breath as she hurried up the steps from the galley. 

Aaron let out a deep sigh uncertain of what to do.  He wanted to run but to do so would endanger the others, especially the elves once the Feds took a closer look at them.   However, remaining behind was not an option either because he did not want to spend the rest of his life branded as a terrorist responsible for the destruction of the Malcolm building.  Considering the post 9/11 climate, his life expectancy would be measured in the months once he was in custody.

Legolas could see Aaron’s worry and decided that for once, he was going to take charge of the situation.  What had been an idle thought had now become the only solution as far as the prince was concerned. 

“Eve,” Legolas turned to the woman.  “We have everything we need to depart do we not?”

“Yes?” Eve nodded, her gazed fixed on Aaron’s, her eyes showing her anguish at what was about to happen to him.  She did not know what to do any more than he did. “We have everything we need, she replied somewhat dazed.”

“Good,” Legolas nodded promptly. “Elrohir start the vessel. Elladan cast us off, we are leaving.”

The light of understanding filled Elladan’s face as he stared at Legolas and nodded in agreement with his decision.  He glanced briefly at Aaron and Eve before hurrying out of the room without saying another word, to raise the anchor and unmoor them from the dock. His brother, similarly aware of Legolas’ intentions, hurried to the bow of the ship to take charge of the controls.  Legolas turned his attention to Aaron and Eve who were staring at the elf prince in question, wondering what Legolas could possibly be thinking.  However the elf gave them no opportunity to speak deciding that for once they would listen.  

Since their arrival in this realm, Eve and Aaron had aided them immeasurably in their quest to find Mithrandir, by providing both sanctuary and destroying the dark lord Melkor.  Aaron had ensured that Mithrandir had been kept safe from the clutches of Melkor and his agents and when it mattered most, was the only person who had courage and fortitude enough to do what needed to be done.  It was time that bravery was repaid with more than just incarceration by his own people.  Restitution needed to be made and Legolas was determined to be the one to do it.

“You are returning with us,” Legolas stated firmly, expecting no argument from either on this point. 
  
“What?” Aaron exclaimed in astonishment. “Returning with you where?”

“Valinor,” Legolas retorted, meeting both Aaron’s and Eve’s eyes in quick succession to show his determination in this manner. 

“Valinor?” Eve gasped in similar shock. “Legolas, you can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” Legolas returned pointedly. “You are both forced to flee because of us. At Valinor, we can offer you shelter as long as you live without any fear of being pursued.  Let us offer you sanctuary for a time. Your stay need not be permanent. As possible as it was for us to journey here, you can return when your people no longer hunt you. In Valinor, you would unreachable. Can you say this is solution is any less promising than your decision to live as fugitives?” 

Aaron knew he would have to go to ground because of his involvement in the destruction of the Malcolm Building but this, this was hardly what he was expecting.  A part of him was terrified by the notion of leaving everything that he knew for a world that was nothing less than straight out of a fantasy. Yet another part of him, a secret part, was thrilled by the possibility.   The more Aaron thought about it, about seeing Valinor the place where the Great Music was still heard, the more he became enthused by the idea.  As if prompting him towards decision, he felt the engines of the yacht come alive and knew that once again he was going to have to trust him instincts. 

“What do you say Eve?” Aaron looked at her, seeing the confused emotions on her face as she wrestled with the same questions as he.  “Want to sail away with me?”

Eve swallowed thickly, feeling as if this decision was coming upon her too fast. She was a woman who liked to be in control of her destiny with a rational mind.  Except lately, she had done so much on impulse alone and Eve was starting to think someone else inhabited her skin.  She was afraid of the unknown, of what lay ahead in this inordinately beautiful world that Legolas and her brothers had so fondly described to her.  She thought of how she had lost her family and had found them again. She thought of how it would be to say goodbye to the brothers she had come to cherish as much as Darien. 

Then her thoughts turned to Aaron and how much she loved him and she did love him so.  Eve could not bear to stand by and let him be held accountable for something he should be lauded for, not punished, not when there was a chance at something so much better.   Aaron he deserved better than living the life of a fugitive.  They both did. What did it matter where they went? After what they had been through together, Eve knew that she could follow him anywhere.

And she would. 

“Yes,” she nodded after what seemed like an eternity of time as Aaron waited for her answer. “I think I could. I love you Aaron.” She admitted, her sapphire coloured eyes glistening with emotion. “How can I let you anywhere without me when I love you?”

Aaron felt a swell of happiness at hearing her say those words. He knew that as long as he lived, he would never tire of hearing it.  Aaron took her face in his hands and kissed her lips with a lingering kiss before responding in kind, I love you Eve,” he said softly. “I’ve always loved you and we don’t have to stay there forever,” Aaron replied smiling, grateful that she had agreed to come with him because he could never imagine going without her. 

“We can come back right?” He glanced at Legolas. “This isn’t a one way deal?”

Legolas had no idea what a one-way deal was but he understood the spirit of Aaron’s question.  “Yes, you can return whenever you wish.”

Aaron stared at Eve again and knew that this was right.  As surely as he had known that he had been awaiting her all his life, he knew that they were meant to embark upon this odyssey together. 

“Then I guess we’re going with you,” Aaron replied still holding her gaze.

“As if there was every any doubt of that,” Legolas snorted.  “I knew you would.”

The boat had started moving, slowly at first but Aaron could feel the motion beneath the deck.  Looking through the porthole, he saw Point Pleasant Buro starting to disappear from view as the craft sailed further away from the docks.   The three men that had Eve had described were still making their inquiries and did not notice their departure.  Hopefully, it would take some time before they made the connection between the Anemone and Aaron Stone. 

“It will take them a while to realise that you’re on the Anemone,” Eve stated once they were underway.

“Good,” Aaron nodded. “If we can get to international waters as quickly as possible, they won’t be able to come after us.”

“What then?” Eve asked, having never sailed anywhere in her life. She was both excited and a little apprehensive at the same time, especially considering their destination.  She had been prepared to walk away from her life but a journey to a mystical land inhabited by elves and strange gods with great singing voices was more than she had bargained for.  Still, she was as enthusiastic by the idea as Aaron even if she knew how to hide it better.

“We sail towards the western sea,” Legolas answered.

“The western sea?” Eve asked confused.

“The North Atlantic,” Aaron replied, “with a few stops in between. Canada, Newfoundland and then Valinor.”

As Eve gazed out of the porthole and saw Point Pleasant Buro becoming more distant in the horizon, she wondered how she would cope journeying in this strange new land.  However, the faces around her filled Eve with the realisation that she would be just fine. 

 ************\r\n\r\n

The journey had been strange even Aaron who was an experienced sailor. Once leaving Point Pleasant Buro behind, they made swiftly for international waters to ensure they would remain out of the Coast Guard’s reach.  Once there, the Anemone sailed up the coast of the continent, making stops in Halifax, Canada, as Eve wanted a few supplies before they disappeared off the face of the civilised world.  As she explained it, there were some things the modern woman required which Valinor was certain not to have and that she was unprepared to do without.  Aaron did not press her too much on this since this would most likely earn him a lecture on feminine hygiene and the purpose of birth control pills.  As a doctor, he somewhat knew the text by heart and simply signed the prescriptions she needed without further debate. 

They stopped at Glace Bay and then at St Johns in Newfoundland to get resupplied with food and fuel since Aaron had no idea how far they would need to go to reach Valinor and the elves were somewhat tight lipped on the subject.  Aaron had the feeling that while it was not secret, the way to west was something only for elves and without them, no one would ever find their way there.  After leaving St Johns behind, Aaron let the elves take complete mastery over the navigation and then things started becoming very, very strange. 

While the stars were the same, they were also different. 

Even though for all purposes, they were sailing the North Atlantic Ocean, Aaron knew they were passing into something else.  The waters seemed to become extremely turbulent the more and more they travelled.  Eve who had only just discovered her sea legs did not take the experience well.   Fortunately being a physician ensured that Aaron was always prepared and his doctor’s bag contained a good dose of Dramamine. 

There came a point when the weather was so terrible that Aaron could not even begin to discern where they actually were.  Thick rain clouds had blotted out the sky as sheets of moisture lashed at the Anemone with such violence that Aaron had serious fears that they might capsize or worse.  However, the yacht managed to stay afloat and after almost a week of such calamitous weather, the storm it appeared they had sailed into, vanished suddenly.

Aaron was certain that the storm was a barrier between Valinor and the rest of the world because once they left it behind; the sky became gloriously alive again.  It was like sailing into a perfect summer’s day with crystalline blue waters and diamonds sparking off the unbroken surface.  The air seemed to smell sweeter, tinged with more than just salt.  It was very strange, it smelled cleaner somehow, so much purer than what it was a few days ago.  Breathing it in infused Aaron with a sense of exhilaration.  

Sunshine and good weather followed them for the rest of the journey.  Aaron noticed that the elves were exceedingly happy that they were bringing home Aaron and Eve. Legolas in particular no longer seemed as sad as he did before.  When Aaron had first met him, the human sensed that the elf had been mourning for a very long time and seeing him had changed all that.  He knew that if it had been all possible, Legolas would have stayed behind in New York to remain at Aaron’s side as his loyal friend.  The doctor did not say it but it was good to know that although he had lost Stuart, he had found a friend who meant almost as much to him.

Eve’s presence was also as cherished by Elladan and Elrohir who spent the voyage telling her all the things that awaited her in Valinor. Aaron also knew that she was becoming a little overwhelmed with what she was hearing and had assured her that everything would be all right because he would be there with her.  After losing an entire family, Eve was overwhelmed by the notion that her former self had parents waiting for her in Valinor.  Elladan had spoken of how pained Celebrian had been when news had reached her at the end of the Third Age that Arwen had chosen to stay behind in Middle earth.  

They reached the Enchanted isle, a series of small islands Legolas explained, was the main fortifications that protected Valinor from Melkor when the beast still walked the earth.   Since Valinor was now separate from the rest of the world and could not be breached unless one was an elf who knew the way, those fortifications were seldom tested although the purpose still remained.  Once past the Enchanted Isles, they reached the coast of Tol Eressea and sailed into the Bay of Eldamar.  

What awaited Aaron and Eve was the singularly most breathtaking landscape either had ever seen with a city that was not merely an expression of architecture but a work of art. Tall white spires that stretched into the sky from buildings that seemed to be constructed around the land not on top of it.  There was nothing hard about this place, nothing that wore a person down after a few years with jaded cynicism.  It was idyllic and more of a paradise than either of them had possibly imagined. Even from a distance, it was magnificent to look at.  They never felt so far away from home as the moment when they came into view of this beauty.  

New York really was a world away. 

When the Anemone finally sailed into the harbour, Aaron was more than anxious at how they would be received.  Despite Legolas’ assurance, Aaron still felt nervous about this.  He knew that in a distant past he had been a king of men but these people were elves and seemed beyond the concerns of title.  Aaron thought that it might be presumptuous to assume that simply because he had been Aragorn Elessar, he should be welcomed with open arms.  

Eve was even more anxious about meeting the people who Elladan and Elrohir claimed would see her as their daughter. She thought of her own parents and knew that nothing would supplant the love she had for them but Eve’s nights during the voyage here had been filled with dreams and in many of them, she could almost remember Undomiel’s father and mother.  As much as she was trying to maintain her own identity, Eve could not help but feel a little more of herself slipping away the closer she came to stepping on the shores of Valinor.

 ************\r\n\r\n

Legolas searched the dock expectantly when they were finally ready to leave the deck of the Anemone.   Aaron noted the elf’s eagerness to disembark and supposed that after being away from home for such a long time, he was naturally pleased to be home.  It was just that the elf’s manner was so different from the usual mercurial demeanour he had come to know of Legolas since meeting him.  More than Elladan and Elrohir, Legolas always seemed to keep his emotions behind a carefully erected façade of control and while there was no doubt that his heart was full of warmth, it was not always easy to see behind his aloof mask.  However, on this occasion, his emotions were exposed for all to see with anticipation being the most discernible of them all.

“Are you always this excited when you get home?” Aaron teased Legolas a little when they descended the gangplank leading towards the dock. 

“As if that is the reason,” Elladan snorted with amusement before glancing at Elrohir who sniggered in similar fashion. 

Legolas threw the twins a venomous look and bit back promptly.  “At least I have a reason.  You two still have only each other for company.”

“We prefer to remain free of entanglement,” Elladan said defensively.  “We are simple waiting for the right lady to offer our affections.”

“You two have been waiting for a hundred thousand years for that,” Legolas retorted. “I think you may be a little too selective for your own good.”

Aaron quickly deduced what was at the heart of this conversation and he stared at Legolas with a little hint of annoyance. “Are you telling that after three months on the high seas with you, you haven’t even told me you have a girlfriend waiting for you back here?”  Aaron accused.

“Ariel is not my girl friend,” Legolas declared haughtily, finding the word ‘girlfriend’ utterly undignified. “She is my wife.”

“Wife?” Eve exclaimed with even more amazement. “That’s even worse Legolas. Now I’m dying to know what she’s like.” 

“She is no different from most elven ladies?” Legolas answered but quickly shifted his gaze from Eve when his sense told him that the object of his affection was finally here.  As he did so, a voice sailed across the dock bearing his name.

“Legolas!”  

The prince burst into a smile as he hastened his pace.  A dazzlingly beautiful woman, whose dark, sheeny hair captured the sunlight as it swayed behind her as she ran, met him halfway across the dock.  Her skin was slightly bronzed, indicating that she liked the sun and the smile across her face revealed the depths of her happiness to see him.  She was as beautiful as Legolas was handsome and when they met there was no doubt in Aaron’s mind at the deep intensity of the affection between the two.  They met in a warm embrace, with Legolas lifting her off the ground and spinning her around as their lips met in a passionate kiss.  Seeing his friend so happy to be reunited with the woman he loved was a good feeling and Aaron instinctively wrapped his hand around Eve’s and squeezed it tight.

It did not take long for them to join the happy couple who only broke off their passionate exchange when they reached them. “Aaron, Eve,” Legolas turned to his friends once they had arrived, “this is Ariel, my wife.”

“You are the ones who defeated Melkor,” Ariel regarded Aaron and Eve while her arm was still wrapped around Legolas’ waist.  “We are in your debt and I thank you especially for bringing home my prince.” She glanced lovingly at Legolas who smiled back in return.

“Well he was no trouble,” Eve remarked casually, “except for his addiction to soft drink.”

Ariel’s brow knotted in confusion but could see that Eve was having a joke at her husband’s expense, “I see that we will have a good deal to discuss regarding my husband’s exploits in your realm.”

Legolas did not know whether or not this was a good thing but noted that both women warmed to each other immediately.  Why should they not? In their past lives, both had been fast friends.

Aaron was uncertain how to accept gratitude for what he had done at the Malcolm Building because home, what he had done was considered tantamount to terrorism, a word that had almost as much stigma as murder these days.  It was different to be applauded for the choices he had made instead of being branded a criminal and he wondered if this would be the reaction of everyone he met in Valinor. Secretly, Aaron hoped not.  However, his thought were soon interrupted by the appearance of more faces coming to greet them.

“Father, mother!” Elladan and Elrohir brushed past them and hurried the man and woman who was staring at them with a good deal of emotion.

Eve found her attention torn immediately from her conversation with Ariel and fixed upon the couple who were smothering the twins with hugs and kisses worthy of parents delighted to see their sons home, alive and well. 

This was Elrond and Celebrian, Eve though silently.

As she studied them from a short distance away, Eve suddenly became rooted to the spot, too frightened to move.   Her heart was pounding in her chest because the realisation that she knew these people was so strong she could hardly breathe.  If she looked as identical to Undomiel as Elladan and Elrohir claimed, then Eve could understand why because she did resemble Celebrian.  The lady looked very much like her own mother, Alicia McCaughley. In fact there were such striking similarities that it was rather unnerving, even more so because it just happened to be coincidental since Alicia could not have been a reincarnation of Celebrian in the same manner that Eve was of Undomiel.   Somehow, Eve knew she would be debating that question for a long time to come.

Celebrian broke away from her family and approached Eve first which she entirely expected because she had the look of a woman who was expecting to see her daughter after a long absence.

“You are as beautiful as I always thought you would be,” Celebrian greeted her with that remark as she neared Eve.

“I’m not Arwen,” Eve wanted to establish because in the last few minutes she felt like her persona was being stripped away and she could lose herself in this place, “I was her once but now I’m Eve.”

“I know,” Celebrian smiled taking Eve’s hand in her own. “I can feel her soul in you and that is the same as if she were here in the flesh. I may not have given birth to you but you are my daughter still.” 

When Eve was drawn into her warm embrace, she was suddenly struck with the memory of Alicia who had passed away when Eve was but a child. While the images of Alicia had faded with time, Eve held some rather strong memories of her nonetheless.  When Celebrian held Eve in her arms, Eve was suddenly ten years old again. It had been so long that Eve had forgotten how it felt to know that there was someone who would always try to make the bad things go away for no other reason other than the fact that they loved you and you were their child. As Eve was held like a little girl that had been lost for a long time, she felt tears rolling down her cheeks in a burst of emotion that culminated when she finally returned the elven lady’s embrace.

“Husband,” Celebrian said emotionally when she pulled away from Eve after a brief pause and gazed at her husband who had yet to approach either.  “We are finally together.”

Elrond approached and Eve noted the serious looking man in the dark robes who had her cheekbones and resembled her in more subtle ways than Celebrian.  She could not imagine what he was thinking where Celebrian’s emotions were an open book of happiness.  Eve remembered how Elladan and Elrohir had told her about his ritual of lighting a candle for the Evenstar to mourn her passing. She supposed it must have been unfathomable for him to lose a child especially when elves were immortal.  Even with all his experiences, there was no preparing for a loss like that. 

He said nothing for a long time as he stared at her, studying her with great scrutiny.  Eve thought for a moment that he was not going to accept her as his child the way his wife had so readily done.  Eve could not blame him even though she felt their connection far more potently that she felt it with Celebrian.    Her own father had shown early on in Eve’s life that it was Darien who held his hopes and dreams. When Eve joined the force, her father had disagreed, believing that she should do something else with her life instead of supporting her like he had supported Darien’s choice. It did not surprise Eve that he died soon after Darien because her father could not bring himself to stay alive for her when his beloved son was dead. 

Yet it felt different as she looked at the elf called Elrond because she could almost remember lengthy debates and lessons where he tried to teach the things he knew. Eve knew without doubt that Elrond had been involved in his daughter’s life, that she was as important to him as his sons, perhaps more so because she was the youngest.  He had wanted to protect her, even when she had chose a mortal as her love, knowing the consequences of what that would mean eventually, having seen it all before somewhere. 

Almost as potently as Eve had reacted to Celebrian, she could feel that he was her once her father.

Then with a soft sigh, the hard flint in his eyes cracked and when it did, he stepped forward and took his daughter in his arms and held her without close speaking a word.  He held her for a long time and those who stood discreetly by and watched the exchange, saw tears in his eyes as he embraced the child he had not stopped mourning for the past hundred thousand years.  Seeing her now gave him hope because he knew her soul would have life beyond her death and there was always the hope that it would find its way back to them as it had now.

“Welcome home,” Elrond finally broke his silence, his voice full of emotion, “welcome home.”

 ************\r\n\r\n

Aaron left Eve alone for a time as she was reunited with the family that had been waiting forever for her to return. Eve looked understandably awed by the affection being showed to her and Aaron could tell that it was breaking through her jaded exterior despite her efforts not to be affected.

“Aaron,” Legolas called out and as Aaron turned to Legolas and his lady, he suddenly realised that he had a greeting of his own to make. 

“Moses!” Aaron exclaimed as he saw the old man standing next to Legolas, clad in white. His hair and beard was white and he bore none of the injuries that had been the cause of his death back in New York. Seeing him alive and well was more than Aaron was able to express in words because he finally had more than Legolas’ assurance, that Moses had survived the gun shot wound that had extinguished his physical life in New York.

“Mithrandir has told us much about you since he returned to us,” Ariel added as doctor and patient greeted each other warmly with a hug.

“I am pleased to say that I do not need further therapy doctor,” Gandalf smiled broadly once they had parted.

“I’m glad,” Aaron grinned, “because I do have a bill,” he joked.

“You deserve full payment and more,” Gandalf said warmly.  “You freed me Aaron and I am most grateful for that.”

Aaron’s smile faded a little as he allowed Gandalf to see the extreme relief he felt in knowing that he had not killed anyone in cold blood.  “I was praying I wasn’t wrong.  Even at the moment I pulled the trigger, I was terrified that I was mistaken.”

“It was difficult for you I know,” Gandalf met his eyes in understanding. “You are many things but I am happy to say a murderer you are not. You undertook what you did at great expense to your conscience and I grieve at the pain you were caused by it, however, you saved me Aaron. In fact, you saved us all.”

Aaron felt the emotion churning inside him and managed a rather controlled response despite it,  “I promised you that we were going to find your past together, no matter what.  I couldn’t do anything less, you were my patient.”

“You freed me from more than my inability to remember,” Gandalf confessed. “You took away the hiding place for my guilt.  I was partially responsible for my own fate in Melkor’s hands, I allowed him to defeat me.”

“Because of Elizabeth?” Aaron stared at him.  Eve had told him of Gandalf’s battle with Malcolm and how at one point in the hostilities, Gandalf had spoken that name with great anguish. 

Gandalf’s eyes blinked in surprise. “You know about Elizabeth?”

“Who is Elizabeth?” Legolas who had been silent until this point asked.

“She was the woman who sired Melkor’s first vessel,” Gandalf answered after a long moment. “She was but a child when a misguided band of worshippers, thinking they were raising some equally mythical dark lord, convinced her to bear the vessel in which he would be reborn.  She had been young and innocent, swayed by their words and foolish enough to believe their promises.  She allowed herself to be with child and furthermore permitted the infant to be imbued with Melkor’s spirit.  She realised too late the full magnitude of what she had done and in fear, fled into obscurity with her unborn infant inside her.”

“Gandalf, you do not have to speak of this now,” Legolas said gently, able to see the pain in his old friend’s eyes.

“Yes he does,” Aaron said firmly, knowing this was the great trauma that he had never been able to coax out of the man during their sessions.  Whatever Melkor had done to him, it had all stemmed with this one incident. “You need to tell us Moses, you need to tell someone.”

“I am afraid that he is right Legolas,” Gandalf sighed. “I found her after many years of searching and learnt that she had tried to instil her child with a sense of decency.  It was impossible of course but she had no idea how beyond her that was. When I explained what she had sired, I took away the last shred of hope that what she had left of redemption.  I told her because I was impatient and because I wanted to learn the whereabouts of her son.  By then, he was a man and no longer living with his mother.  I was tired of searching; I only wanted to return to Valinor once more. However, in doing so, I drove that poor woman to hear death. I burdened her with even more guilt so she drowned herself.”

Aaron saw Gandalf’s shoulders slackened as he concluded his tale and knew just how horrified Gandalf must have been to be confronted with Elizabeth’s body, to know that he was responsible.  For a person like Gandalf, who was used to saving the world from evil beyond description, the loss of one life because of its impulsiveness must have been terrible to bear.  With this guilt inside him, Aaron doubted that Gandalf even put up a struggle when Melkor took away his mind. 

‘Oh Gandalf,” Ariel reached for his hand and squeezed it in sympathy. “I am so sorry.”

“Thank you my dear,” Gandalf said gratefully, “however I am responsible for my actions.”

“Its not your fault Moses,” Aaron returned automatically. “We all make choices and sometimes the hardest thing to do is to live with them but that’s how you learn and the lessons don’t stop no matter how old you are.   Elizabeth also made her choice, you have to remember that.”

“I do,” Gandalf nodded. “Since my return, I have thought of nothing but that. However, I cannot deny my part in her death and guilt is the penance I can no longer hide from.”

“I liked to help you in any way I can,” Aaron offered, still unable to shake the feeling that Gandalf was his responsibility.

“I should like that Aaron,” Gandalf replied.

“Now if we can only have you call him Gandalf,” Legolas spoke, trying to aid some levity to the moment.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron laughed. “I got accustomed to calling him that. Besides, you seem to have enough names already. I don’t think one more is going to hurt.”

“You are the last one to be talk,” Gandalf remarked, “Aragorn, Elessar, Thorongil, Elfstone, Strider….”

“Who is Moses, might I inquire?” Legolas interrupted the recital much to Aaron’s relief. 

“Apparently an old man with a bad sense of direction,” Aaron turned to Gandalf and they both burst out laughing, leaving Legolas shaking his head in confusion.

“I shall never understand men,” Legolas retorted.

“That makes two of us,” Eve added joining them. “Hello Moses.”

“I am glad to see you Eve,” Gandalf flashed her with a warm smile.  “Though Valinor may seem rather tame after New York.”

“Oh I am certain that I’ll find something to do,” Eve glanced at Ariel who had been silently listening to the banter of friends. “After all, I think this place could use a 21st century woman to shake things up a little.”

“It sounds intriguing,” Ariel remarked before asking, “what do you mean?”

“It means,” Aaron, grinned as he looked at the people of Valinor and felt a twinge of pity, “say goodbye to paradise.”

THE END
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