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Chapter Text

He closed the door and took a deep breath in. The fresh air always had that clarifying effect on his body, but now he seemed to need it so much more for his spirit.

No matter how anybody spun it, the last twelve years had been dark.

Orcs had been seen across the lands, even as far west as the marshes. Fell spirits were also rumored to be wandering abroad. Perhaps these were just wrights who had escaped their barrows in the north; he had no doubt this explained the tales in some part. However, some were also rumored to travel from the south. Then there was no doubt that the tombs of evil had been opened. The Nine, although numbered at Eight, could very well be walking again.

All of these things troubled Sauman the White as he walked outside the gates of Orthanc and into the Forest of Fangorn. Had it been just over a decade where the Council of the White had met to discern the path for Middle Earth? At that time, he had fully believed that the darkness he had been sent to fight had been permanently dissolved. That there was peace. Within months he had been proven wrong outside what even Gandalf the Gray had believed possible.

Yet it was not the ordinary council that had burrowed itself in his mind, but the girl. This girl who claimed, and by all accounts proven, to be from the future. Her look of horror had etched itself into his mind ever since. Perhaps it was because of this look, her accusations, that he had not touched the palantír he had rescued from Dol Guldur those years ago.

How’s your buddy Sauron? You know, the one you hang out with in the palantír.

Of course being a member of the wise, he knew the risks of using the seeing stones. Not all had been accounted for. Still, it sat in his workspace taunting him. If only he could bend it to his own will as the kings of old. The thought had crossed his mind many a time. Surely he would have the strength of will to use this tool as a weapon for good.

Then he saw her face.

If tales were to be believed, she remembered a time where he had attempted such a feat and failed. Rather than bending his mind to the palantír, Sauron bent Saruman’s own mind to it. And the consequences for the world, and possibly for the White Wizard himself, had been dire. Despite his power and prestige, Saruman knew that only a King could truly have such influence. Only the rightful King of Gondor could redeem these seeing stones, and the rightful king was not he.

“Ho hum, Master Saruman.”

The White Wizard turned to see a large figure lumbering his way. A large tree-like figure but with an impressive growth of beard and kind eyes. Treebeard must have been making his rounds in the forest at the same time Saruman was wandering the circles of his mind.

“Well met, my friend. Come now, walk with me through these woods.”

The Ent obliged. “Why so hasty today? Your legs almost carried yourself at a speed faster than even I can travel.”

Saruman looked down at the long legs of the ent, which could have easily carried him meters within the span of seconds if he had so chosen. “I suppose I simply have much to ponder these days,” he admitted. Simply admitting this truth caused the tension in his mind to diffuse.

“Many must have much to ponder as of late,” acknowledged Treebeard. “My kin stand at the edge of the forest and report much going and coming around our world.”

“Likely scouts covering reports of the latest Orc raids.”

Treebeard shrugged. “Such a pace has never been conducive to the life of the ent.”

“Yes, but they are necessary for the world in which we now live.”

“Master Saruman, Master Saruman, is it not possible that the pace is the problem?”

“How so?”

Treebeard stopped and inhaled. “Well, when creation does not stop to breathe, it does not stop to think. And not thinking will always lead to hasty decisions.”

“Hasty decisions…” trailed off Saruman. Yet he could see wisdom in those words. Only doubt had delayed his decision to utilize the palantír for his own purposes.

“There is peace in the slow… peace that allows me to commune with my flock. The Oak, the Ash, the Pine, the Pear….”

As Treebeard began listing every species of tree found in Fangorn, Saruman found himself looking around. All the trees… all the beauty… all the peace. According to the girl, all destroyed by him. He shook his head. What sort of man would destroy his own home and everything he loved thus? Upon considering the question, he realized what sort of man he might become. The man the palantír wanted to twist him into. A man of metal… of gears… of a certain bastardization of the sciences.

He was now resolved on what he must do.

“Treebeard, I am afraid I must take my leave. I have an important errand to attend to, one that cannot wait. I thank you for your time and company.”

Treebeard’s gaze followed the wizard as he left. “Such a hasty decision, for one of the wise.”

Saruman turned around and smiled. “No, this is a decision I was able to come to at your own pace. In the peace of the quiet. All for which I thank you, friend.”

Chapter Text

Kylie urged her steed on. The conventional path to Rivendell was clear, but not without its dangers. And unfortunately she seemed to find all of them.

Thankfully it was only large, hungry wolves that were chasing her and her equine companion. Although goblin sightings were commonplace, and orc sightings were becoming more so, wargs themselves had until now stayed further south. The Ranger encampment near Fornost had survived its first warg attack, and so she needed to go warn Lord Elrond about this new development in the strategy of evil. Wargs had not been seen so far west since, well since Thorin’s company had been chased across the mountains. Thankfully, these creatures behind her now were not wargs specifically bred for battle. But whether it was evil that urged these creatures on or just an empty belly, Kylie knew the end result would be the same.

“Hurry!” she shouted at Robin Hood, the horse she named after the thief that graced the silver screens right before she got transported to Middle Earth for the second time. None of the other rangers understood the reference, but neither did they ask questions. For Kylie it was a chance to have a little taste of home that she had not seen for over a decade.

Thankfully, Robin Hood knew the route and within moments they were within sight of the river dividing the blessed realm from the common world. She hoped that if they could cross the river, the wolves might not follow. Hoped at least.

One seemed to leap out of nowhere and only Kylie’s quick movement with the sword saved her and the outlaw steed from becoming dinner. They were yards away. If only they could made it….

Kylie felt a breath of relief as she felt the water hit her boots. Robin Hood waded across the familiar waters, his feet hitting the familiar rock formations that he knew would lead both himself and his rider to safety. Rivendell served as a second home for Kylie, so both her and the horse knew the path well.

The howling grew more and more distant, and both horse and rider breathed a sigh of relief. On one hand, Kylie was relieved that they would be able to take a breather. On the other hand, she was not sure that the wolves not crossing the river meant they had a more direct connection with evil than she would hope for. Either way, she was able to continue in peace towards the center of Imladris, the Last Helpful Home between the north and the Misty Mountains.

She allowed herself to breathe in the fresh air and to just enjoy Robin Hood’s sauntering pace. Life as a ranger meant that she was almost always on the move. There was very little time for peace, to make camp, or for any type of civilization. Which, according to her captains, put the very fabric of their society at risk. Very few children had been born in the last five years, and the older members began to wonder aloud if this would finally end the line of Númenor.

Kylie knew better; at least she thought she did.

She dismounted and let Robin Hood see himself to the stables, where he would be fed and watered and overall spoiled by the master of horses. She, on the other hand, needed to see the master of the house Himself.

Just as she began walking up the walkway, a young ranger began climbing down opposite her. Of course, this man did not know he was a ranger just yet.

“Good afternoon, Estel.”

Aragorn (for she still did not mentally call him by his elvish name) looked up at her. Something within that glance troubled Kylie. Aragorn was still quite young, only approaching his twenty-third year. His eyes so far had always had an innocence and energy in them that Kylie never even saw in her peers back home. But today, something seemed off. That innocence seemed to be completely gone. But he hid his disturbance so quickly that if Kylie had not known him from two different timelines she likely would not have noticed.

“Well met, Kylie. I trust you are here to see… Lord Elrond?”

That change had developed in the last few years. As the Elven Lord was not actually Aragorn’s father, the community had encouraged him to ween off the title once he was late into his teens. “Yes, I have some news to share. Wait, is he looking for me?”

Aragorn shook his head. “I do not think so, but we do have a visitor I think would be pleased to see you.”

“Visitor?” Kylie hoped against all hope it was Kíli, although the King Under the Mountain had plenty to prevent him from making the journey to Rivendell. It seemed as though the chaos of the world had certainly spread to the Lonely Mountain. He had spoken in letters to her about the warg hunts and orc raids, which only seemed to be growing in number. Then there was the whole running the mountain part of his life. To make matters worse, his Lords and councilmen seemed to be an absolute pain in the ass. Still, a girl could dream. She missed him.

Aragorn, however, was not going to give her the slightest hint on whether her hopes would be realized or not. “The visitor is in the Library, I imagine Lord Elrond will be there soon.” With that, Aragorn left.

“Bye, Estel.” What was with that kid today? He’d usually stay and chat… ask questions… challenge her to a spar… nothing today.

Kylie turned down the familiar halls of Rivendell, breathing in the fresh air and enjoying the sound of the wind in the trees. Not that she didn’t get her fair share of that living in the wild, but it was hard to stop and enjoy that when you are constantly hunted or being hunted. Although she knew she could thank her lucky stars (or Eru or whatever the elves called him) that it was only orcs hunting her. And they weren’t really hunting her specifically, just the community she was with. Which compared to things could be, was completely fine by her.

It was something she’d spoken to Elrond about at her last examination.

“Do you think he’s forgotten about me?” Him being Sauron of course.

“Why do you ask that?” asked the Elf Lord checking her pulse. Before he was a Lord, he was a healer. And when Kylie returned with Gandalf twelve years ago, he had insisted on regular check ups. He wondered the impact being in Middle Earth would have on her ‘fragile human body,’ especially when a part of her seemed to still be in Regular Earth. At first Kylie thought it a strange proposition, but looking back she was very glad she agreed. It was good to know she was still healthy… although those examinations had also caught something she never would have expected.

But this particular examination, around six months ago, Kylie simply shrugged in relation to the question proposed. “No wraiths, no running for my life… at least not any more than everyone else… I don’t know, I guess I expected him to find me much faster.”

“You are very well hidden.” He placed a hand on her back, checking her lungs.

Kylie laughed. “Yeah, in plain sight.” She never would have gotten away in any of this in the world she’d left behind of social media and flash photography. If Sauron had the capability of blasting her image on some Middle Earth version of Facebook she’d probably be dead by now.

Or worse: taken.

Elrond had her open her mouth to examine her teeth. “My information leads me to believe that his searches for you are still based on the far side of the Misty Mountains?”

“Erebor? Still? After all these years?”

“The King Under the Mountain suggests he still finds scouts searching for you. However, the most recent information comes from Thranduil of Mirkwood?”

Kylie clicked her tongue as she raised her arms so Elrond could continue the examination. “Never thought I’d hear of Thranduil looking out for me.”

“You find I can be persuasive.” She could hear a smirk in the Elf Lord’s voice. “Orcs have been discovered patrolling between the mountains and the forest. Some, not all, but some do seem to be seeking someone matching your description. So we still have some level of luck on our side.”

“Should I be relieved?” she asked once the elf’s hands stopped examining her gums.

Elrond sighed. “In a manner of speaking you can find solace that Sauron has not begun a sweep on Eriador.”

“If he does, I’ll return to Erebor,” said Kylie firmly. That had always been her hope: continue the fight for the north before should could return to the kingdom she’d helped reclaim. Where she knew she was wanted and welcome. At least by the ones that mattered.

“That must remain to be seen,” said Elrond firmly. It was not that he did not approve per say; simply that there were many factors that could prevent it from happening. “I urge you to remember that Sauron has a strategy in place, even if we do not yet understand. As for your health, more news.”

“Good?”

“Well, you still show no sign of aging. Your body seems fixed at its eighteen year old state.”

“You sure?”

“There should be much more wear, especially considering the life you live. And yet I can find no trace.”

“What am I to make of that?”

“I know not,” Elrond admitted. “For now, I suppose you ought to thank Eru that you live without the aches and pains of your peers.”

Kylie snorted. At thirty years old, she should probably have some sort of back and knee pain. The older rangers complained of it all the time. Whenever she made it to an outpost at least the older ones were constantly massaging different extremities. Hell, she remembered her mother complaining about such things before she had been spirited away. But clearly her body had decided that getting older was for wimps.

“Especially if I have to walk to Mordor again,” she said softly, glancing at the map on the wall, which traced multiple routes from Rivendell to the land of the Dark Lord. “We don’t know Sauron’s strategy, but do we know ours?”

Elrond joined her. “What still seems to be most wise,” he started, “is still to wait until the original ten walkers are able to make such a journey. To play a strategy that we know can succeed.”

“That’s still at least 50 years away.” Kylie had already given Elrond the names and information for the original fellowship. In case he needed to find them if fate took her home sooner than the forming of the fellowship. She didn’t tell him about the ring being in the Shire; Gandalf knew and he said the fewer in Middle Earth who possessed that specific knowledge the better. So Elrond knew of the Fellowship instead. Of whom, none of the hobbits had yet been born…or Boromir… and both Gimli and Aragorn seemed far too young to shoulder a quest of that importance. “But Lord Elrond, do we have that long?”

That was the question. The question of time, and how long they could afford to wait before it became more of a disadvantage to do so.

Now, present day, it appeared as though they might be talking strategy again. Kylie bounded up three flights of stairs into the very familiar library where she’d spent more time than she’d ever hoped to spend in any library other than that of Oregon State University. Just as the elf Lord walked out the door.

“It appears Eru does shine his light upon us,” said Elrond. “Well met, Kylie Turney.”

“Yup. Made it safe and sound,” acknowledged the woman. “Estel said you had a visitor?”

Elrond nodded slowly, a quick flash of pain I’m his eyes. “There have been a few… developments since last we spoke.”

“Good or bad?”

“That remains to be seen. But come with me inside.”

Elrond held the door to the library open for Kylie, who stepped inside and immediately froze in the doorway. There, to the left, staring at the map, was Saruman the White.

Chapter Text

Kylie had not seen Saruman since before the Quest to the Lonely Mountain. Mostly because he never exactly left his lofty seat for the wilds of the north to be sure… but Kylie liked it that way. While she had grown beyond shrieking when she was in the same room as him, she still hated and distrusted the White Wizard. She still had no idea why Gandalf and Elrond had not yet ceased communication with him, which she had made quite clear to them. Many times. Saruman, for his part, seemed to have similar sentiments towards Kylie. Granted, accusations of treachery at a first meeting might have ruined any chance they might have had at a cordial relationship….

“You found her quickly,” said Saruman, addressing Elrond as though Kylie was not even in the room.

“As providence would have it she was knocking on my doorstep.” The Elf Lord walked awkwardly (at least as awkwardly as an elf could walk) and stood next to Saruman. “Kylie, I know you and Saruman have your differences. And I know you have memories of misdeeds committed by him. But I urge you to remember that none of that has happened in this time, to listen now, and to be a part of this conversation.”

Kylie stepped forward, crossing her arms. She still opted to stand a solid several feet away from the wizard, but she nodded for him to begin.

Saruman sighed, turning his attention back to the map. “When we met, you had suggested that I was deep in the enemy’s council. That I had created out of my home a factory for evil.” He quickly turned back to Kylie. “You may not believe me but I can assure you it was not so. I had no way to communicate with the enemy… at the time.”

That shook Kylie a bit. “At the time…?”

The wizard turned back towards the map and pointed to Dol Guldor. “When the white council invaded to rescue Gandalf the Gray, we found conclusive evidence that Sauron was attempting to regain his former strength. This you already know. But what you may not know is that when I explored the wreckage of the fortress I found an interesting device… one which I believe you may be familiar with.”

With surprising grace, Saruman walked back to the table in the middle of the room where Kylie noticed a box sitting at the head. Saruman opened it and ushered Kylie to come close. She was tempted, to be sure. She was filled with an overwhelming desire to NOT see what was in the box.

“You can just tell me if you found the Palantír in the wreckage, Saruman,” she spat out.

Both immortal beings gave Kylie a look reminiscent of surprise.

“It has been sitting in the press for these last few years but… I believe it can remain there no more.” Saruman looked down, slightly ashamed. “It has been calling in a way I cannot explain. I think it wants to commune, but I believe we all can guess who may be on the other side.”

Whatever Kylie expected out of Saruman, this wasn’t it. Her mind was trying to compute this information. How could Saruman be lying to them, and yet submit this palantír. Or maybe that was the lie… maybe he wanted her to test it and for Sauron to find her. She remembered when Pippin had touched it last time… how quickly the black ball morphed into wreaths of flame. Into a sleepless eye. Maybe Saruman wanted to bring that eye into this room. Maybe he wanted the hunt to finally come to Eriador… although if that were the case why would he not just tell Sauron himself? Or maybe he had and dark forces simply hadn’t gotten around to finding her out yet? Wargs had finally returned to the north, was that his doing? For once the glare she sent the wizard was not out of malice; she was simply thinking.

Saruman closed the box. “There is only one man who would be able to restore the Palantír to its former glory, and he no longer exists.” Or is moping around the stables of Rivendell, thought Kylie. “I brought it here so that it can be dealt with safely. What I firmly believe is that it cannot stay in Middle Earth, and should be sent to the Grey Havens immediately.”

Kylie looked at the box, trying to discern the trap. “You said it’s been calling to you? Lord Elrond, would it be any safer in the West?”

Elrond shook his head. “Once the Palantír crosses the line between Middle Earth and the undying lands, any connection between it and The Dark Lord would be severed.”

“Yes, but what about in the meantime. It takes months to the Grey Havens. Isn’t the Palantír the type of thing that’ll grow on you?” Kylie was thinking about the ring’s behavior. Would anything Sauron associated with behave in the same way? Slowly corrupting those close by, bending them to its will?

To her shock it was Saruman who answered. “It seems to. Whether the calling would be stronger on a path towards removal I cannot say. But yes. Even now, I admit, I feel drawn to it.”

Elrond processed that information. “The other complication is that there is nobody I know traveling that way at the moment. There may be a group that comes within the year… but I would rather it not remain in Imladris for that time. Unless, Kylie is this a task we could place upon you?”

Saruman looked at Elrond with a mix of shock and hope. If it had not been for that look, specifically the shock, Kylie would have given an immediate no. “I might be a little more immune to its calls than most…” she admitted.

“Which is precisely why now I ask this of you. If you traversed with the ring, with no temptation, this might be an accomplishable task for you.”

Kylie looked at the map. The Grey Havens were closer to Rivendell than Mordor, but not by much. “The roads are rather treacherous until the Shire, but I’ve traveled through before on my own. I’m assuming the roads are much safer beyond that point.”

“For the moment, which is why I would counsel haste.”

“What are the risks, assuming it fell into the wrong hands.”

“Corruption and an expansion of Sauron’s spy network to say the least,” replied Saruman softly, at least as someone like him could.

“And of course you must not touch it, or… anyone who you know could have an impact on the future of Middle Earth.”

That took out Aragorn, and definitely Bilbo. As much as Kylie knew Bilbo was moderately resistant to the ring, she also knew it was too much of a risk to bring the Palantír to Bag End. It saddened her that she couldn’t use this as an excuse to catch up with her friend, but it seemed like the best way forward. And there would always be the return journey.

“I will go to the Grey Havens. I’ll take the Palantír with me, make sure it gets in a ship, and is never able to hurt anyone.” Again. “ But Robin Hood and I just got here today, so I would prefer to leave in a week or so.”

Elrond nodded. “You know where the stores are, feel free to take any provisions you might need. Although I will ask: what was your original purpose for coming to Imladris at this time?”

Kylie shifted her gaze to Saruman, who was closing the box that held the Palantír, eyeing her coldly. Did this truly change things? In the end, she decided no. Saruman would have to do a lot more if he ever wanted to earn a semblance of trust from her. “Nothing, Lord Elrond. But I’ll be sure to update you on my travels before my departure.”

The elf nodded slowly, his gaze sharpening a bit as it seemed to whenever he realized she was not being truthful. But he did not press. “I will host a dinner for all distinguished guests tomorrow morning, and I hope you will be in attendance.”

Kylie sighed. At least Saruman might be distracted by other elf lords. Or might decide he was too good to join them at all. “I’ll be there.” She remembered something as she turned to walk out the door. “Oh and Lord Elrond, you have a bit of a wolf infestation at your border. Can I kindly request you take care of that before I head out?”

The elf smiled. “It shall be done.”

Chapter Text

Kylie placed the saddle pack on Robin Hood, securing it tightly just in case Lord Elrond’s archers missed anything. He assured her that she should be able to go within three days of Rivendell without trouble, but Kylie still wanted to be ready to run if necessary. It was not that she didn’t trust Elrond; he was certainly motivated by her news of the wargs. But better safe than sorry. She placed enough dried food to last a few months and coin enough to get anything she couldn’t scavenge in the saddle bag. Carefully, she tucked the Palantír far enough in the pack where she wouldn’t accidentally touch it and get Sauron on speed dial.

Just the simple parts of traveling.

“You ready to go further west than we ever have?” she asked Robin Hood. Sometimes she wished her horse was one of the talking creatures of Middle Earth. She had met birds, eagles, trees… was a talking horse too much to ask? Especially when a lot of her road included so much solitude? Unfortunately, no matter her wishes, it was not the case. Robin Hood just neighed in response.

“Aye, that’s my boy. Think of it as training for the Misty Mountains one day.”

She crossed the bridge leaving for another lonely journey in the effort to make sure Sauron never rose. That was life at the moment… one task after another. One mission after another. On one hand it was fulfilling; she was able to fulfill the promise she gave to Thorin on his deathbed. And despite the fact she had failed to destroy the ring, she hoped her efforts might make a future fellowship’s mission more attainable. On the other hand, it was tiring and lonely. Of course she missed Erebor, but she was really also missing home. Like Seattle home. She missed her friends, her parents, and her brother more than she wanted to admit. It had been 12 years in this stint of Middle Earth, but how long had it been for them at home? Last time, after spending nearly half a year in Middle Earth, she woke up after a two month coma. How long will she have been gone this time?

Her thoughts were interrupted but the sound of hooves following her. She turned around, half expecting to see Elrond reminding her not to touch the palantír. Or Saruman riding up to literally stab her in the back, even though the White Wizard had actually left two days before. Instead, her hazel eyes met with Aragorn’s gray ones.

“Estel? What are you doing here?”

He reared his horse to a stop in an expert but distinctively elvish manner. “I’m coming with you; Lord Elrond asked me to.”

“Really?” Elrond had always been protective of Aragorn, granted he was literally a defenseless child when she first met him. Or second met him.

“Yes. Something about seeing the world… growing in experience,” he said quickly.

Kylie shrugged. She wasn’t aware of Elrond’s readiness to give Aragorn real world Ranger experience, but she supposed he was right. With things moving so quickly, Aragorn might need to be ready to lead the fellowship sooner than anybody expected. For that he would need at least something under his belt. Traveling about three months to the Grey Havens could be a good first step to traveling three months to Mordor.

“First time out?” she inquired.

“Not entirely. I have been hunting with my brothers before.”

“So a bit of weapons experience?”

Aragorn smirked. “I’ve always given you a run for your money if you recall.”

Kylie laughed. “I’ve always gone easy on you.”

“I defeated you in a spar at age fourteen.”

“Yeah. You were fourteen.”

Aragorn’s face suddenly became a little sheepish. “Oh.” Was all his highly developed vocabulary could articulate.

“I just mean,” continued Kylie, trying not to completely deflate the young man’s ego before they even crossed the river, “that I need to know that you can defend yourself.”

“Yes. That I can do.”

Kylie decided to believe him, but keep an eye on him if they got in any trouble. “You brought food for a few months?”

“Yes.”

“Coin for inns and such?”

“Yes.”

“Winter cloak and summer gear?”

Aragorn hesitated a bit. “Wearing the winter cloak… but summer? It’s still quite cold….”

“Yes and we’ll likely be gone most of the year. Lots of different weather in that space of time.”

“Oh yes, I do have different things for that,” stammered the young man.

“Do you want to….”

“No. No, I have what I need.”

Kylie thought about questioning him further, but decided to trust him. Aragorn was, after all, now an adult by the standard of any culture they might be a part of. And if he was about to do something as silly as leave on a six or seven month journey without something lighter for summer, a little sweating would do him good. Even if she was very much not looking forward to the smell of him in July….

“Very well. I will lead you through the paths that we must follow. Make sure to keep up. Welcome to the Ranger Life!” With that, Robin Hood took the liberty to trot northbound in the direction of Hobbiton.

Truth be told, Kylie enjoyed having a companion for the journey. From time to time one ranger might be paired with another, especially if on a border mission. But for scouting missions and messages, their numbers were so few that it no longer made sense to send multiple people. Which amounted to a lot of time alone. Having Aragorn there to talk to was nice, although that bit of Kylie that remembered life in the fellowship of the ring found the reversal of roles quite interesting.

“You shouldn’t eat that, unless you want to see it again in about ten minutes.”

“Yes you can eat that, but the leaves are toxic.”

“Please go at least twenty paces away to relieve yourself.”

One day about a few weeks in, Kylie spotted something distinct and important: athelas. She dismounted Robin Hood.

“Estel, do you know what this is?” she asked.

Aragorn followed her off the horse and approached the plant. He touched it, smelled it, and (after an approving look from Kylie) tasted it. “I have never seen this plant before in my life, but there is a familiar quality about it.”

“This is called athelas, although if you’re with people in these parts you’ll call it Kingsfoil. Most think it’s a weed, but it actually has amazing healing properties. It can not just suck poison out of infected wounds, but it can heal all sorts of evil. Not everyone can do that though.”

“Why not?”

“Well, what they say is the hands of a king are a healer. This plant can even draw out terrible evil. But I suppose it takes someone just as powerful to counteract such evil.”

“Of course it does,” muttered Aragorn in a voice so low Kylie almost didn’t make out the words.

“What do you mean?” she ventured quietly.

Aragorn pointedly ignored her, examining the plant. She stared at him, but he didn’t seem to notice. He only paid attention to the plant in his hands, absolutely transfixed. Kylie wondered if the young man was developing a sense of how he should use it in the future. Was that sort of thing genetic or was it taught? Kylie would have always thought the later, but she had certainly seen much more amazing things during her time in Middle Earth. Including tree shepherds.

“It is precious, so we should collect a little while we can.” Kylie cut about half the weed from the stem.

“Why only half?” the young man asked.

“Well with these darker days, someone else is going to need it at some point. So we leave some to grow back for them.”

“We have yet to see any orcs or wolves or such,” pointed out Aragorn.

“Just you wait. We’ll be lucky if we make it to Bree without any sort of misadventure."

Chapter Text

Despite having lived over a decade and a half since first traversing through the lands between Rivendell with Aragorn and the four hobbits, Kylie felt a sense of whiplash going through the exact same lands with the exact same person. Except she was the guide and he was the newbie. Granted, Elrond had done a very good job at teaching the young man about the different mechanics of the world, so sometimes Aragorn would even teach Kylie a thing or two. They had already passed by the three trolls, although now Kylie had a much more personal interest with that area. They skirted around Weathertop - even though Kylie knew it was an important point of Aragorn’s personal family history she did not want to risk going to watch out. Yes she knew the risk was… practically nonexistent… but she still to this day could only associate Amon Sûl with Nazgûl.

“But it looks…” started Aragorn.

“No. I’m not going back up there again.”

“It would be a good place to keep watch for enemies.”

“So would a tree.”

Aragorn was just about to retort when his eyes widened and he snapped his mouth shut. Kylie understood immediately. She’d traveled with him enough both her times in Middle Earth to know what that expression meant. He heard something. Something different from the rabbits they were accustomed to hunting, and even from the wolves they’d run into earlier that week.

She notched her bow just as the first goblin rounded the corner.

The creature shouted and four more jumped out at them. Two were quickly downed by their arrows. Kylie was able to get off one more before pulling out her sword and, in a sudden movement that would’ve made Dwalin proud, struck down the final one. She looked at Aragorn who also had his sword out, covered in black blood. The two rangers stood side by side as the forest again grew quiet.

“Why send only four?” Aragorn grimaced, putting his weapon away.

Kylie shrugged, cleaning her own blade. Upon her return to Eriador, she discovered that goblins had been traveling outside the Misty Mountain on a regular basis. At first, it made both herself and Elrond nervous for her to leave Rivendell, but then they got word that they were still murderously furious about the slaying of their King. So really, they were looking for Gandalf, not her. And good riddance to any who found him.

“There’s probably more close. This was just a scouting team….”

“This far from the mountains?”

Damn. He was right. She didn’t want to think of the implications of that. “Break camp. It’s best we ride the horses hard for the next few days.” And ride they did. Thankfully, no goblin did they encounter. They ran across nothing more until they reached the gates of Bree. Safety, at least in the grand scheme of things.

“See? Lucky.”

“You call two packs of wolves and goblins lucky?”

“Considering what else is out there, yes.” Kylie dismounted her horse and Aragorn followed her to the gate. But she stopped and turned to him. “I need you to speak with the gatekeeper.”

Aragorn stared at her. “Why?”

Kylie sighed… it was truly hard to explain. Typically if she was traveling in a group, there was at least one other man who would do the talking so she could sink to the back. It worked well because it was more customary in this part of the world. Plus, it meant less people noticed her and would remember if questions were asked. The Rangers understood this to a degree… but Kylie had no idea what Aragorn did or did not know about her story. She was under the impression that Elrond had not told him much for both their sakes. So she went for a half truth: “They will take us more seriously if a man approaches and speaks.”

Aragorn nodded and handed her the reign of his steed’s bridle. “Is there anything I should say?”

“Just say we’re two travelers seeking lodgings at the Prancing Pony.”

“If they ask if we’re rangers?”

Kylie shrugged. “Tell them the truth. Yeah sure they don’t love us in Bree, but it’s normal enough for Rangers to pass through. You probably won’t get a lot of questions or trouble.” She couldn’t think of anything else he needed to know. She had already gone over the importance of travel names, although hadn’t gone through the process of picking one for him. Typically the people themselves would do that.

Mustering all the confidence he could, Aragorn walked up to the gate. As was her habit, Kylie pulled up her hood to minimize her features as much as possible.

“Who goes there?” asked the keeper.

“Just two travelers, seeking lodgings at the Prancing Pony.”

“For what purpose?”

Aragorn stuttered. “To sleep?”

The guard huffed. “And your business and destination?”

“To… stay at the inn?”

The guard opened the gate and stared at the travelers. “Strange things are happening about, it’s my purpose to answer questions. Granted, you seem silly enough to avoid trouble. What weapons do you have?”

Here Kylie interjected before Aragorn could stumble on his on words again. “We carry weapons for hunting and defense. We are Rangers of the North, but the only quarrels we pick are with the orc.” There were of course times the villagers picked quarrels with them, but Kylie didn’t feel the need to mention that.

“Fine, fine, come in. So long as you don’t cause trouble… at least any more than we’ve had here about. Especially with all the missing….”

“Missing?” asked Aragorn.

The guard shrugged. “As I said, strange times. You will find flyers for them all over town if you wish to learn more.”

There were more flyers around the village than what littered Kylie’s high school the week of homecoming. Every corner they turned held a fresh face, some names they began to recognize in their walk through town. Others they only saw once or twice. What could have happened since Kylie was last in Bree?

“So many people,” said Aragorn, reading each one individually.

Kylie’s gaze was drawn to one young man in particular. He was depicted with deep brown eyes, barely any stubble for a beard, and a prominent forehead. It reminded Kylie of her older brother, whom she had left behind in… well it wasn’t the “real world” because this was also quite extraordinarily real… but back home.

What was Connor doing now? Was he still dating that girl… what’s her face with the laugh that Kylie couldn’t stand? Were they married with kids? Was he even married with kids yet? She could be married with kids by now….

“Men and halfling alike,” observed Aragorn.

“This is new… look. This one disappeared three months ago….”

“This halfling disappeared a year and a half ago. Actually, is this a ranger?”

Kylie walked over to examine the poster. She definitely recognized the face, but couldn’t place a name. She knew the title “Stirrups” was not the man’s real name; definitely a travel name. Further, there was no reason the villagers of Bree would post the image of a ranger for whom they had no care. No, the most likely explanation seemed to be that this epidemic had even extended to their own little community, and anyone in the know wanted to spread the news to others.

“Should we press the gate keeper for more information?” Aragorn practically whispered.

Kylie shook her head. “He has likely already told us all he knows. Plus, we already have our own quest that we need to see completed.”

Aragorn nodded, but Kylie noticed he could not stop staring at the fliers.

She decided to use this as a teaching moment. “In the wild, typically if you want to gather information, you won’t go to the official sources per say. That means more people will remember you… and they don’t usually love us Rangers anyways. They usually won’t talk to us. Instead, you go to the local tavern and let the alcohol do the talking.”

With that she led him to the Prancing Pony, and instructed him to ask the horse boys (hobbits in fact) to stable Robin Hood and Aragorn’s steed. Kylie already knew the innkeeper pretty well and felt relatively confident in his character, so she went ahead and paid for their room with some of her Lonely Mountain earnings.

The irony of being so rich and living such a poor life was not lost on her.

“Only one room?” asked Aragorn once they left the table. She could see a slight blush creep across his face.

She rolled her eyes. “Shut up, it’s not like we haven’t been sleeping together for the last month anyways.” Of course that phrase meant something completely different in Seattle, but Aragorn did not know that. They left their packs in the room (on their separate beds, which Kylie made sure to point out), and returned to the tavern part of the Inn.

Kylie grabbed both of them a pint. “Now, places like this are as gold for a ranger. Do you want to guess why?”

Aragorn downed his ale, his eyes looking around. “Because… we blend in?”

“Do we?”

Aragorn looked around again. Kylie saw him examining the clothes and behavior of their fellow guests. Many of them seemed to have less worn garments, stained with less dirt and grime. They were all laughing, swapping stories, behaving quite differently from sitting in the corner of a room. “I suppose not.”

“Yes. As Rangers we try to not draw attention to ourselves… walk unseen. But in the end we will never completely blend into the crowd.”

“You could lower your hood,” Aragorn suggested.

“Look around and give me a few reasons why I might not.”

Aragorn nodded and stood up to refill his pint. Kylie saw him looking around the room, and could not help but feel a little proud. He definitely was not blending in the same way an experienced ranger would know how to, but to the very least he wasn’t making himself super obvious.

Returning with a full glass, Aragorn gave his guess: “There are no other women in the Tavern.”

Kylie nodded. “That is mostly it. I would stand out, and typically only a few specific types of women enter this sort of establishment.”

“Rangers?”

“Sure.”

Aragorn took a generous drink from his glass.

“But the reason this place is as valuable to gold for Rangers is that we live off information. Our duty (Aragorn gave a slight wince) is to protect the innocents in the north from what is far from innocent. These are the sacrifices we make. Places like this, where the ale flows freely, are filled with information. One must simply learn to sort the truth from the liquor.”

Aragorn nodded, looking around as though he was expecting to see a person with the word “liar” tattooed on their forehead. Not meeting Kylie’s eyes, he took another sip of his ale.

“For instance, what conversations do you hear from this table?”

Aragorn took another gulp of ale, looking around in a much more obvious manner. Kylie saw him turn and stare at the table next to them. Right as she was about to kick him for being WAY too obvious, he turned his head and looked at the next table. He turned to a third table which might have been just outside of his earshot, so he got up under the pretense of filling up his mug again.

Kylie took the opportunity to do some surveillance herself. Really so far nobody had taken much notice of them, which was always the way she preferred it. Not because of safety against dark forces stuff… no. She noticed that a few too many men in these places tended to just notice only three things about women and she wanted to avoid those interactions…. And there were definitely a few tables having conversations along those lines within earshot.

Aragorn sat back down. “The table next to us is complaining about how difficult it is to hire farmhands. The table by the bar is wondering if the weather will stay mild for the next few weeks, and the table next to us… well, that does not necessarily bear repeating.”

“What can we learn from this information?”

Aragorn took another drink and sighed. His behavior was starting to seem off.“... That we do not need water worthy cloaks on the road?”

“Yes, in part.” She was starting to sense the lesson was losing its impact. “The locals always know the land, so we should listen to them. If there are goblins or worse around, these people will encounter them. And typically talk about it here.”

Aragorn took another sip from his ale and seemed to stare off in the distance. Kylie took a sip from hers and sat in silence. She couldn’t tell if he wanted to talk… needed to talk… but the young man had been growing more and more forlorn over the conversation. Over the last few days truly. At a loss, Kylie got up to go to their room and check on the Palantír.

After bolting the door for fear of visitors, Kylie put on gloves and pulled out her things. The Palantír was still safe, untouched, underneath all the old robes. She couldn’t help but stare at it, wondering if it was having an impact on her young companion. She’d almost not thought about it since leaving, other than the general consciousness that she needed to get it halfway across the continent. But Aragorn? She did not think he would be tempted… but maybe she was wrong. Should she have told him? The truth of what they were doing on the road? She had simply told him that they were delivering a package to the Grey Havens. Surely he knew there was more… but he didn’t ask and Kylie decided that he didn’t need all the details. She was hoping that it would be enough to alleviate any temptation that could get them both in a lot of trouble.

Sighing, Kylie wrapped it back up and repacked her pack, trying to rearrange anything that could increase the buffer between the oversized marble and Aragorn. As much as she was pretty sure that an extra cloak and pair of socks wouldn’t actually make a difference, she at least wanted to make this journey go as well as possible.

Finished packing, Kylie went back down to the tavern. They could both use some real dinner, and maybe Aragorn just needed some real sleep… she wondered if this is what it felt like to babysit. Or to have been like to be in the fellowship with fifteen year old Kylie. Hell, eighteen year old Kylie had probably been a lot to take care of….

She heard the scene before she saw it, and it sent her running.

Chapter Text

“No, I don’t actually have a name… my Ada knew it… not that he bothered to tell me. There was a lot that he didn’t bother telling me….”

Kylie heard Aragorn’s voice almost two rooms over, and it made her sprint.

What was that young idiot getting himself into?

“Estel they said… hope they said… the biggest cock and bull story they could say.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest. Please let there be no spies… please let there be no spies….

“Eh boy, just wanted to know who was going to pay your tab….”

“Pay the price for all mankind. Yes, that’s what they want me to do… to pay for the mistakes of Isildur….”

“Estel!” Kylie cried, sprinting to the bar. Aragorn was sitting there, after clearly having had another three or four pints. How the hell had he had time to drink that many? Who all heard? Who all understood? What would Elrond think? These questions and more were racing through her head as she tried to think about how to rectify the situation.

The young man and the innkeeper both turned to her. The bartender looked with an expression of relief. Aragorn looked… empty. Just so empty. And confused. He honestly looked like a lost sixteen year old rather than the young man he was. “Estel, what is going on?”

Amidst what very well could have been tears, Aragorn stared at her. “Everyone wants me to pay… everyone expects so much….” He was clearly out of it.

Kylie leaned in close and hissed: “Shut it, we’re continuing upstairs.” She turned to the bartender. “Keep the change, and flung multiple pieces of gold at him, hoping it would cover whatever bill Aragorn had racked up in her absence. And maybe discourage any gossip from at least one member of the public. She grabbed the young man by the hood and practically dragged him by his collar to their room, ignoring the cries of “Yeah, take him to bed!”

She practically threw the stuttering, stammering man into their room and bolted the door shut.

“What. The. Hell.”

Aragorn paced around the room nervously. “You don’t understand, you don’t understand…” he practically shouted.

“I understand if you don’t lower your voice you’ll bring down all the orcs of Mordor upon us!” she hissed.

“I thought… I thought… Kylie….” Aragorn was visibly having a hard time processing the thoughts in his own mind. And it wasn’t only the drink. “Have you ever been lied to? Your whole life been lied to?”

Yes, when future him and future Frodo didn’t tell her about the assassins hunting them in the wild. But Kylie decided not to mention that. She understood those circumstances much better now as an adult than she had as a kid. Now that she was living that life, she saw how her fourteen-year-old self would have made it worse. But what was he talking about now? Who lied to him? Who hurt him so bad he had to turn to the drink? Didn’t matter. At this second, Aragorn was at risk of shouting the most deeply held secret in all of Middle Earth from the rooftops of Bree. She couldn’t let that happen. All that mattered at the moment was calming his drunk ass down.

“People sometimes lie, Estel, but it doesn’t give you the right to be a dick about it!”

“Don’t call me that. That’s not my name.”

Not his name? Did he know? Had Lord Elrond told him? Kylie supposed it was about time…. “Look, you’ll just need to relax. Take your shoes off… I’ll draw you a bath….”

“I’m not a child,” slurred Estel.

“Then stop acting like one,” she snapped, the irony of the situation not escaping her. “Estel please keep your voice down.”

“That’s not my name!”

“Alright Aragorn,” she growled lightly. “Shut the fuck up right now!”

He froze, the blood leaving his face. “You knew?” he moaned.

“There’s a very long list of things that I know which right now I’m not getting into,” she snapped. “But right now you need to snap out of it and quiet down.”

“Snap out snap out… I’m supposed to snap out… but nobody has been honest my entire life….”

“Do you want to know why? This is literally a matter of life and death, Aragorn! So to maybe skirt the truth a little… in an effort to keep you alive? Well that was just the price we were all
willing to pay. So do both of us a favor, shut up and just go to sleep. I’ll talk with you in the morning!”

The young man sobbed. “I’m not him… I’m not him….”

Kylie tried another tactic. She pushed him into the bed, pulled out the sheets and… tucked him in. Man, if fourteen-year-old Kylie knew she was literally going to tuck Aragorn into bed like he was a child… she would have flipped. But thank the Valar it seemed to be working. At first, he merely whimpered and played with his sheets. Eventually the young man passed out, drooling on the pillow.

Kylie stayed up all night, too nervous to sleep. As much as some part of her knew it was irrational, she was afraid that at some point Aragorn would wake up drunk and end up doing something even more stupid than what he had done already. So after a night of listening to him cry and moan in his sleep, she went down and got them breakfast for the room. And went ahead and paid for another night. He’d probably need it.

She had a passive aggressive sense of satisfaction when the young man woke up incredibly hungover.

“How are you doing this morning?”

He just moaned.

“Serves you right for behaving like a dumbass last night.” She poured him a glass of water and added a pinch of salt. “Take this, it’ll help you recover.”

The young man obliged, in no state to be questioning much of anything.

“Food?” she asked.

Aragorn slowly nibbled on some toast. He was probably feeling sick to his stomach at the moment. Kylie opened the window for him to get some fresh air.

“We are going to talk. We need to talk. But I’m not talking to you when you’re like this, and I will not talk with this window open, understood?” The man nodded and lay back down, nursing his headache.

As much as Kylie wanted to take a nap herself, she was nervous about him running off or doing something that very well could get himself killed. His behavior last night, while completely due to his intoxicated state, was completely reckless. But she wondered if it was really the first time in their travels he’d displayed such behavior. In fact the more she thought about it, the more and more convinced she was that Elrond had not actually sent Aragorn to join her for the quest with the palantír. He probably had the conversation about his identity and ran away from home without thinking through the consequences. Given the state he put himself in last night, she could definitely have seen him being upset enough to do just that. The truth of his identity bothered him, and hindsight 20/20 she really should have seen something like this coming. Even worse, she couldn’t exactly remember why it bothered him so.

She returned to the innkeeper. “Can I write and have a note sent?”

“To Erebor?” he asked.

“No. Elsewhere this time.”

He nodded, producing a pen and paper. Racking her tired brain, she tried to think of a way to describe what happened with Elrond, without giving themselves away if it were intercepted. For the first time, the thought crossed her mind that they should turn back. That they should get the heir of Isildur back to safety. But he seemed to reject that safety. He left it behind, seemingly not looking back. Would forcing him to return be of any avail?

She thought back to the man he would… might become. The man who the whole world would depend on. Hope for all. A man who had traveled through every single kingdom of Middle Earth. The truth hit her like a ton of bricks: the two parts of Aragorn were not mutually exclusive. He was so trusted and knowledgeable because he traveled. He knew the world because he’d experienced it. He’d learned to trust, learned to judge, and even learned to guide in those times. A small, gentle voice in the back of Kylie’s mind made it clear that she could not deny him this opportunity. So she wrote the following note to Lord Elrond, a note that she hoped would at least be cryptic enough if it came into the wrong hands.

I know your Hope is gone for now, but do not fear. I will hold onto your Hope and keep it safe for the time being.

Chapter Text

Thankfully Aragorn woke up from his recovery nap before lunch. Kylie was really feeling the night with no sleep, but she needed to make sure he was not a flight risk before she passed out. She just sat at the bed and held vigil until he eventually sat up. He had the decency to look ashamed, sitting up cross legged on the bed.

“What do you remember from last night?”

Aragorn looked up, trying to remember. “Not much… I more remember feeling a rage I do not think I have ever felt. I do not even remember what triggered it….”

Kylie sighed, turning towards him, just trying to figure out how to go about this conversation. “Do you remember… not what made you angry but what you were angry about?”

Aragorn looked away slowly. “I… I don’t know if I can say.”

“Then let me help.” Kylie lowered her voice, and got up and closed the window. “I know your name is not really Estel.”

Aragorn looked at her quizzically. “How do you know?” The confusion turned to anger. “And why did you never tell me?”

“I suppose we found the source of that anger…” Kylie said, more for herself than Aragorn’s sake.

It was as though a volitile reaction had occurred. “My entire life, I was told one thing… one I was meant to be a hope for humanity… but nobody could even tell me my real name. How many people know who I am other than myself?”

“Very few….”

“But you know.”

“Yes, but there are… other circumstances.”

“Such as…” challenged Aragorn.

Kylie tried to divert. “How did you find out?”

Aragorn stood up and began pacing. “It was weeks ago… right before we left Rivendell. Lord Elrond asked me to take a walk with him. At first we were outside and he told me of the history of man… of Elendil and Isildur… of the great battle against evil on the steps of Mount Doom…. I asked him why he wanted to bring this up as I already knew this history. He said:

‘You need to know this history because it has much to do with your present.’

‘How?’ I asked. He did not answer right away, but rather led me into the house… into the room of artifacts.

‘This history, as all do, extends to today. When Isildur failed to destroy the ring, he took it with him. It was lost upon his death, and his throne soon after. You know of the kingdom of Gondor?’

“I stated that it had been ruled by a Steward for the last thousand years.

“He nodded. ‘It stands in wait of a king… in hope that a lineage might not after all be dead. There are rumors that this lineage is not. That the heirs to Isildur’s throne traveled north, and now take residence in the wilderness not far from here.’

‘Rangers?’ I asked.

“He nodded. ‘Their chieftain, about 20 years ago was slain by an orc raid. But not before he was able to sire a child.’

“At that point I saw something was wrong. He had brought me directly to the shards of Narsil, the cursed blade of Isildur. My stomach tightened but I still asked the question that I knew he wanted me to ask. ‘What happened to the child?’

‘He stands before me today, a young man of whom his father would be proud.’

“My head swam… how was I supposed to react? I had been taught that history since I could remember… how Isildur’s weakness and pride had left an avenue for Sauron to return again. To know that same blood runs in my veins… that same weakness….

“Elrond must not have noticed anything because he continued: ‘All your years have led you to this moment: the moment where you take up your sword, forge it anew. Where you accept your name: Aragorn, Son of Arathton.’”

Aragorn stopped. He did not want to continue further. He looked utterly lost, a look she could only imagine crossed his countenance when Elrond was revealing his heritage. Kylie shook her head. Yes, by now she knew the story of Isildur. Yes, the man made a mistake. But Aragorn was not Isildur; couldn’t he see that? She also had the distinct advantage of knowing Aragorn’s full potential. And not in the abstract. He would succeed where Isildur did not. He would be instrumental in destroying the ring his ancestor could not. But he still had to reach that point. In this moment, her gut told her he needed to keep talking about it. He couldn’t continue wallowing in this guilt on his own, and there were precious few people he could talk to. Kylie knew she could probably count on one hand every single person who knew his true identity, including herself.

“What happened next?”

Aragorn shook his head. “What was I supposed to say? Yes I will take on this burden that I never wanted for myself? Yes I will take on this identity that only seemed to cause the world turmoil? No… I told Lord Elrond ‘I do not want this.’ He reminded me that it was mine, whether I wanted it or not. I told him I could deny it.

‘To deny it,’ he told me, ‘would mean nothing more or less than to live in exile.’”

Kylie let the words sink in. So… Aragorn had chosen exile over who he really was. Over the man she knew he would become… but one he had not yet grown into. “Is that why you left with me?”

Aragorn nodded. “I don’t know where exile is… how to live that life… I needed someone who did.”

Ouch. That hurt a bit, even if Kylie knew he was right. She had lived far from civilization for years to protect her identity. It seemed that Aragorn was doing the same to run from his.

“I cannot stay in a place that does not want me. Where they keep secrets to that magnitude from me… I just can’t understand.” Kylie could see his anger rising again. “Why would they keep such a secret from me, and tell you?”

“They didn’t tell me Aragorn.”

“Then how. do. you. know?”

Kylie sat back and sighed. “Listen, there are good reasons why Lord Elrond didn’t tell you… don’t you dare interrupt I’m trying to share with you… there’s HUGE safety risks. Aragorn once you knew, things would start hunting you. They want you dead… or at least the thing you represent. Dead. Annihilated. Gone. These things would take revenge for something you weren’t even a part of. And they don’t care that you want to distance yourself from it; they hate you all the same and will try to take vengeance upon you. You don’t want that… and I’m similar situation. There are people looking for me as well. For my safety, as well as yours, it’s better that I don’t tell.”

The young man just stared blankly at her.

“I need you to trust me on this.”

“How when you have been a part of this lie that has taken over my whole life?”

Kylie sighed. He did have a… not terrible point. “Listen, I am really sorry it needed to be this way. This is how the world is… and let’s be honest; you weren’t very good at keeping secrets as a kid. Day one you literally told me, a perfect stranger, that you were hope for mankind.”

Aragorn shook his head. “Estel,” he said, almost spitting out his own name from the last two decades. “What does it mean to be hope when you have no idea who you are?”

“It’s something you discover over time. I mean there’s things I’ve learned living in the wild the last twelve years that I never thought I’d see. Like I can be smart… I can be brave.” I can be loyal, Kylie thought, reminiscing on her last conversation with Thorin Oakenshield.

“But that’s the person you’ve become. They’re asking me to be somebody I’m not. To take over the throne of Gondor… to rule the ancient Kingdoms of men… and only then…” he trailed off, as if discovering something he did not want to admit just yet. “Kylie, I am not a king.”

“Fine. Then be a Ranger; you are meant to be our chieftain, or commander.”

“I know not what it means to be a Ranger.”

“To provide protection; to provide hope.” Kylie tried to think of everything she’d experienced in the last decade to try to articulate it to the lost young man sitting in front of her. “There are many dangers in the world, and many dark forces at work. You know the histories better than I do. But the folk here in the north have lived so long in peace… well this is all they know. But there is more going on that meets the eye. So we fight. We fight to make sure the world is a better place. To keep hope alive. Sometimes literally.” Here she gave Aragorn a significant gaze, hoping he would understand.

The young man shook his head. “Why people rely so much and defend me… I will never know.”

Kylie sighed. “Fine. Then we’ll work on letting you defend yourself.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Oh no. What I mean…” Kylie leaned on the window, looking out at the flyers that littered town. Suddenly an idea came into her mind. “Why don’t I show you?”

“What?”

“Show you. You say you don’t know what it means to protect and provide hope… why don’t we learn. Come here.” She motioned for him to come to the window, pointing to all the flyers on the walls of town. “All these people, their families, are a bit lacking in hope right now. Their loved ones have been missing for months. Years even. As rangers we can do something about that. We can investigate the area… see what we can see….”

“Are you saying we’re going to find all these missing people?” Aragorn whispered. Kylie couldn’t quite tell what was in his voice. She thought she detected a hint of wonder, but also a sliver of fear.

“If we’re lucky. Or at least we can find out what is causing this and prevent more people from getting hurt.” Kylie listened to herself say these words as they came out. They reminded her, a little suspiciously, of her original intent in joining the quest to Erebor of taking the ring and destroying it. That decision had already had many consequences for the fate of Middle Earth. But this was different. This was not her trying to change the future; she simply wanted to solve a problem as it was occurring in the present. “Aragorn, do you accept this mission?”

The young man turned to her, still slightly astonished at the use of his birth name. Still, he looked out the window, viewing all the faces of the missing. “I do.”

Chapter Text

The next day, Kylie and Aragorn split up throughout Bree to look for answers. The wanted posters were surprisingly vague, giving names of the families of the missing but not much more. No town of origin, and no description of where they were last seen. Decisions needed to be made, but none could be until they even had a physical direction in which to go. So she grabbed three posters and walked around town.

“I was wondering if you could tell me about these people,” she asked a woman in a stall. The woman turned, looked Kylie’s worn ranger garb up and down, and walked away.

She sighed, going into the next stall. She decided she would just stand and listen to see if anyone might say anything helpful. She pretended to look at the leather gloves, listening to conversation. Mostly it was on the weather and the planting of crops the next year. Completely not helpful. Impatient, she saw a customer approaching the exit.

“Excuse me sir….”

“Oi! We don’t need none of your type here!” cried the tanner.

Kylie glared, but left the store. It was ironic, because she knew that rangers spent a lot of money on leather from Bree. Now that the dwarves from Ered Luin had mostly moved to Erebor, Bree had become the new hub for such leather and other protective gear. Not that she hadn’t of course tried to obtain dwarven made items from time to time, but for most other rangers they were just too expensive.

Either way, she exited the stall and the man she was trying to question skittered away before she had a chance to reconnect. What she needed was someone of a relatively friendly temperament who could not run away from her. Thankfully across the street was a proper store that she had purchased from once or twice. At least this particular owner wasn’t known for kicking out rangers.

“Good morning!” cried the owner. She did see his shoulders slump and avoid eye contact. Great.

“I was hoping you might have some nuts I could purchase for the road.”

“Third shelf down, missy.”

Well at least he didn’t glare and spit out the word “ranger”. This told her his current behavior was less about personal bias and more about fear of what others might see. It annoyed her; she thought she had left that all behind when graduating public high school. Still, there was no internal malice and she could work with that. So she grabbed a pound of mixed nuts and took them to the counter. When she pulled out her coins, she also pulled out the flyer.

“I’m also hoping you might know a little more about this.”

He didn’t even make eye contact as he counted out her change.

“All these people,” said Kylie, “something happened to them. Was it the same thing?”

“Why would I know much, miss?”

Kylie sighed and pulled some dwarven gold out of her pocket. “Will this jog your memory?” She’d never actually bribed people for information before… but she’d never been trying to teach the future king of Gondor how to actually be king. Which maybe it was good he was off on the other side of town; this wasn’t EXACTLY the type of lesson she wanted to impart.

The old man looked at the coin warily. It looked as though, even though he would receive an entire months’ wages at 100% profit, the fact a ranger was asking made the deal sour.

Kylie lowered her voice. “We know something is wrong. Very wrong. We simply want to make it go away.”

The vendor nodded, put the coin into his pocket, and motioned for Kylie to follow him to the back room. There, away from prying eyes, he felt free to speak:

“We are lucky enough as nobody has disappeared from Bree this last year. But in the middle of that first winter, a few stable boys disappeared. Then a few guards. I believe a few of your kind also went missing. Then, it stopped here, although a few of the surrounding villages still suffer.”

“Any rumors as to why it stopped?” Kylie knew she could not rely on pure rumors, but sometimes even the wildest of stories contain a grain of truth.

The old man looked into his shop as though checking for anybody who might listen. “There were rumors that men from the south were staying in town, and that they were the cause of the supposed attacks.” He shook his head. “I deal with men of the south regularly, and never saw any during the terror.”

Kylie felt slightly uncomfortable knowing that he traded with southerners. Likely Haradians, well known for their allegiance to Sauron. She avoided them like the plague, but this shopkeeper probably could not be so fortunate. He had to make a living, and some of his wares would go bad if he waited until respectable people came around. In truth, he had little to lose in his business interactions with him. Still, she could not help but wonder if any conversation they might have might continue on to such customers. That would definitely cause trouble.

“The most recent flyers,” the man continued, “are from the southern village of Barath. If you take the Andrath Greenway for 20 miles, the village borders the Barrow Downs. The village is small; if you ride too quickly you will miss it. But all the recent activity has been there.”

“Last question, then I will leave you to your shop,” said Kylie. “Do you know why this has been allowed to continue?”

The man shook his head. “Miss, I do not pretend to know all the workings of the world. But what I do recall is that the world felt darker when the disappearances started. It felt… it felt as though no one would be able to respond to such a terror.

Kylie took this into consideration, thanking the man for his words. She took an additional minute, and pulled another coin out of her pocket. This time silver.

“This conversation, it never happened.”

The two rangers reconvened at the Prancing Pony, taking supper in their room. Kylie was still wary of anyone who might have heard Aragorn’s little outburst and might be able to draw conclusions. And she was aware now of his weakness at the bar. It was odd… she thought she remembered him holding his drink well… no. That was 83 year old Aragorn. She was dealing with 23 year old Aragorn. He clearly needed a lot more practice before he could hope to hold his own. Practice she was not interested in giving him at the moment.

“Did you learn anything from town?” she asked.

Her companion shook his head, dipping his bread in his soup bowl. “The town seems on guard, although I could not tell if it was because of the missing or… if it was something I did.”

Kylie shrugged. “Either really. You’ve probably noticed by now that there isn’t exactly the most trust between normal folk and your people.”

Aragorn nodded. “Why is that the case?”

Kylie sat back, carrot in hand. “It’s hard to say exactly. We do kinda stand out… and we aren’t a part of this community. And we usually end up passing through places with major small town vibes… but we also only show up when there’s trouble. I think they associate us with the bad things that happen….”

“But those are not our fault, right?”

Kylie shook her head. “No but it’s kinda like a fever. A fever shows up to fight the bacteria and viruses in your body. But it’s not really nice itself, so people try to get the fever down.”

Aragorn nodded, although Kylie was really happy he didn’t ask what she meant by “bacteria and viruses.” She’d gotten better at avoiding slip ups like that over the years, but sometimes they came out. Came out in torrents whenever she visited poor Bilbo.

“Why do we only visit when there are dangers? Why cannot we be a part of the community?”

“There are a few Rangers outposts that I can definitely take you to when we’re done with our task… but really we’re so busy. There’s a lot of bad things to protect the people from.”

Aragorn stood up and looked out the window at the town below them. “If only there were not so many dangers.”

Kylie took a minute to think before making a bold statement: “You could do something, you know. You do have that power.”

Aragorn shook his head. “I do not want that power. I want it to never come to me.”

Kylie shrugged and decided to drop that line of conversation. “But was there anything you were able to ascertain? In town? About the missing?”

“No. You?”

“A little,” Kylie sat back. “It seems as though our next stop will need to be just a little ways down the Greenway. Which isn’t too far out of the path from our original task… but most of the disappearances are focused around there.”

“How did you learn all this?”

“Oh I have my ways.” Aragorn did not need to know her “ways” consisted of a certain dwarf king with whom she was in constant communication and who would send her anything for which she asked. Nothing she hadn’t earned by helping take back the mountain of course, and not that she was taking advantage. There was just a certain understanding that, even from afar, her best friend would always have her back. “Then there were rumors of men from the south.”

“Do you believe them?”

Kylie shrugged. “Men of the south often come this way for trade, but other than some random mercenaries that is it. The biggest danger is information. The more we interact with them, the more information they’re able to bring back past any of the Dark Lord’s outposts.”

Aragorn seemed to pale a little bit. “So they are spies?”

“Could be. But for now that’s not our concern; if you see them just avoid them. Our concern is to travel tomorrow along the Greenway and to see what can be done for the innocent we’re meant to protect. Rest up; who knows what we will find in the next few days.”

Chapter Text

Kylie woke up earlier than their planned departure. She wanted to take some time to get ready and to pen a Kíli’s letter. Ever since reuniting to visit Bilbo about five years ago, the dwarf and the human created a system of correspondence. Whenever either got a chance, they would write explaining their adventures. Since Kylie’s whereabouts were pretty sporadic, Kíli would send a letter to either Bree, Rivendell, or Bag End whenever he got the fancy. Kylie would return it when possible. She’d gotten in the habit of keeping a journal of letters with her and just sending the whole set whenever she was in town. It was nice being able to talk to Kíli whenever she wanted, even if most of it was one sided. To keep the correspondence safe, he came up with the idea to give different names to Kylie depending on the location: Becca for the first, Leila for the second, and Brigid for the third. All named for people Kylie missed dearly from home.

“You and your friend leaving today, miss?” asked the innkeeper as she approached the desk.

“Yes,” she said, paying their final bill. “I thank you for your hospitality, and perhaps for a few writing supplies?”

“I thought you might ask; something came in for you last night.” He pulled out a letter with the dwarf king’s familiar handwriting.

“Ah, much appreciated,” she responded, trying to hide her giddiness as she opened her letter. Things were well in Erebor. A few Lords were giving him grief again, but Kylie was just becoming convinced that was the purpose of aristocracy. Apparently Dwalin’s loyalty to their King and complete lack of filter kept them in line. For the most part. She still wished she was there to watch him tell Lord Glórr to put his “irrigation policy where the sun don’t shine.” As well, apparently Glóin had finally mastered this new “walking chair” that came directly from Kylie’s stories of wheelchairs from home. With it, he was able to have a degree of independence that was beforehand unheard of amongst double amputees. Kíli had been honest about Glóin’s struggles adjusting to a life without legs in his letters, or at least his own perception of them. It was a relief to Kylie that he might be able to have what the dwarves perceived to be a respectable life. To her greatest delight and pride, Gimli himself had been the one to successfully craft it. Many had tried, but he at last had succeeded. From time to time she had to step back and remember that she had not even met the young dwarf since returning to Middle Earth. But she hoped that Kíli was able to tell him tales of her, so that their first meeting might at least be able to be one of mutual respect.

“Many good tales I see?” ventured the innkeeper.

“Of sorts. Of many friends around the world.”

“Aye miss. Just take caution in your travels.” He lowered his voice. “I know the rumors of which you chase. While I know much less of these things than your people, I would still caution you to beware.”

Kylie nodded, taking out the journal of previous letters she had put together. “I appreciate your caution, and will take it on the road with me as I confront these evils. But might I have a pen before I leave?”

“Oh of course,” said the man, flustered that he’d forgotten the one thing she literally just asked for.

Kylie sat down to write Kíli the final letter:

My Dear Friend,

Thank you for always sharing the tales of our friends under the Mountain. It warms my heart that things are going well… especially for Glóin! I’m so glad to hear that he’s able to have some sort of movement; hopefully it’ll help bring his spirits back. And I love Gimli’s creativity, I can’t wait to meet him soon… or remeet? I don’t know sometimes these things are weird.

As for myself, me and a ranger friend are going to investigate some disturbances close to Bree. I expect to be spending the Winter with our mutual friend, and look forward to telling you about those adventures then. Although it’s hard to put some of these things in letters… but I think you know what I’m talking about. There’s been a few warg attacks in the area, but nothing as crazy as what you guys see up there.

Anyways, you take care. And don’t hesitate to tell Lord Glórr that I have not forgotten about the Ruby incident. That ought to keep him off your back for a few more weeks.

All Yours,
Leila.

The two rangers rode out of Bree as the sun settled high in the sky. Kylie had strapped nearly 100 new arrows on the back of Robin Hood, hidden underneath her bags. If anybody saw them on the road, they might just think that Kylie was a little extra and needed to travel with twelve pillows. Which in truth, Kylie knew she could use that to their advantage.

Not that she wouldn’t mind actually having twelve pillows if she ever got the chance.

The Andrath Greenway definitely deserved its name. Even now in early spring, hundreds of trees were beginning to bloom, framing the road in a sea of green. There were more trees than Kylie could hope to name, but the willows were her favorite. While they would pose a challenge if they found an orc or warg, Kylie enjoyed moving the branches aside from on top of her horse. Her fingers brushed against the soft, supple leaves falling into her path and she pretended she was in a fairy tale land. Not a place where a certain Dark Lord sat in his tower accumulating power, but some place sweet and magical. Moments like these reminded her that, despite the growing darkness, there was still light and beauty. Living a rangers’ life, one had to learn to stop and smell the roses from time to time. Unfortunately, those moments never seemed to last too long. Soon enough the green parted to the side indicating the fork in the road that would take them from this beautiful trail onto the village of Barath.

“Are you sure we should be deviating from the task we departed Rivendell with?” asked Aragorn.

“You mean the task I departed from Rivendell with?” Aragorn looked down with some degree of shame. “We’ll spend a week here; no more. The rest of the way to the Grey Havens is relatively safe; a brief delay won’t be the end of the world.” With that she veered Robin Hood right and they traveled up the road to the village.

In truth, Kylie didn’t like the look of the village the moment she saw it. It looked absolutely desolate, reminding her of her explorations of Dale before they had known Smaug’s fate. Not that she actually knew what it was like now, but Kíli was so descriptive that she could imagine the bustling rebuilt town pretty clearly… but she knew she needed to bring her attention back to the present. Where was everyone?

“You don’t think it took the whole village?” Aragorn whispered.

Kylie shrugged. “Only one way to find out. Be on your guard.” She checked the location of her bow and restuffed her quiver before continuing.

As the sun sank low into the sky, the two rode side by side in what appeared to be a ghost town. It was one of the tiniest places Kylie thought she’d ever seen. It seemed to encircle the hill, with some semblance of a Main Street at the very top. A few houses and other buildings in town and several farm fields began to circle the hill as one descended on any side. But beyond town at the bottom of the hills she could barely make out several small, closed up mounds in the distance.

“Are those?” started Aragorn.

Kylie nodded. “The Barrow Downs. The only ghost stories I think I’d actually believe. Wouldn’t suggest going down at night… it is interesting that the town is so close to them.”

“You don’t think…?”

Kylie shrugged. “We won’t know without spending some time here.” And talk to people. It made Kylie a bit uneasy that they had traveled through what should be the busiest part of town and not seen any sign of life. She’d swear she heard shutters close or steps from time to time, but at this point she was almost certain her mind was playing tricks on her. She dismounted Robin Hood and got on foot. Aragorn followed suit.

“There is no life here…” said the young man slowly.

Kylie agreed. “It looks as though everything is closed.”

“Should we just make camp in the town square? Or return to Bree?”

Kylie shook her head. “I think whatever is here, we don’t want to be caught by it.” She went to knock on the door of what she thought might be the local inn. Not a sound.

“What do we do now?” asked Aragorn.

Just then, Kylie heard a sound that made her blood run cold. A sound that she hadn’t heard in several months but one she was constantly listening for. One with less experience might mistake the sound for an owl or other bird. Or maybe a wolf. Kylie knew better. These were the shrieks of the orc.

“Hide, quickly,” she hissed. She quickly took the reins of the horses and loosened them, letting them go. The horses were smart; they would be able to avoid the orcs and return to their riders when it was safe. They couldn’t do that if tied up.

“What of us?” Aragorn’s voice was almost cracking, trying to stay silent and hide the panic.

“The roof, now!”

Aragorn nodded, jumping up and using the tip of the roof to pull himself up. Once he was up, he gave Kylie a hoist and they scrambled to the very top, keeping low and peering over the edge.

“If we’re lucky, they are far away and will not come closer,” Kylie tried to reassure the young man. Just as she did the horses sprinted away, down the path from which they came. They wouldn’t do that unless danger was near. So… nevermind.

Kylie turned around on the rooftop and lay flat, staring at the Barrow Downs. She could just see their enemies in the distance. Making haste directly to town.

“What do you see?” she asked Aragorn, trying to take advantage of his ancestral eyesight.

The man next to her squinted. “About 50 or so. Well armed.”

“Fifty?” Kylie stammered. She’s seen orcs in pairs, up to scouting groups of maybe ten. But fifty? Even in the state of the world today that was almost unheard of.

Aragorn must have heard the horror in her voice. “What do we do?”

“We stay here and pray they are just passing through.”

So they sat, watching the orcs shuffle closer and closer. With each step, Kylie could see what Aragorn meant by well-armed. Typically orc scouts had light armor, a short sword, and a bow and quiver of arrows. These orcs were armed at least that well, but also had plates of real armor strapped to their chests. And shields strapped to their backs. And torches in their hands.

“They may be here to burn down the village,” whispered Kylie to Aragorn. She did not want to scare her younger companion, but she needed him to start thinking through what to do. They would need all of their wits to get out of this one, developed or not.

Aragorn nodded next to her, not taking his eyes off the orcs. He did, however, take out his bow and a singular arrow. Good lad, Kylie thought as she did the same.

The orcs crawled throughout the town now, swords drawn. Still making very little noise. Kylie knew there were two options: either they thought the town was abandoned, or….

The roars and screams began simultaneously. Kylie suddenly saw smoke billowing in the fields outside of town. The fire had begun.

“Now, try to pick off the ones that are alone!” Taking advantage of a brief moment of confusion, Kylie jumped to the next roof, looking for orcs to pick off. She found two in an alley. Good enough. She shot an arrow into each of their necks. Two down, and no alarms were raised. One more approached the downed pair, but Kylie dispatched that one with no problem.

The screams continued, and she suddenly saw people bursting from the buildings as smoke billowed in the town center. Apparently, whatever they feared, the fire was worse. But they were almost unarmed. She saw a few older men with pitchforks, but that would never stand against the orcs.

But it was just the distraction Kylie needed to fight freely. She positioned herself on the rooftop, trying to watch out for orcs with arrows, and began firing below. Whenever she saw an orc approaching the villagers, especially women and children. Slowly but surely, she and Aragorn were picking them off!

Arrows whizzed by Kylie. She’d been seen; the roof was no longer safe. As carefully as she could in a literal war zone, she slid off the roof and into a pile of hay. She stood up just as an orc archer turned the corner, only to be impaled by a pitchfork held by a man old enough to be Kylie’s grandfather.

“Rangers,” the man growled.

“You’re welcome!” Kylie growled back as she ran back into the town square, sword drawn.

She always hated fighting with the sword; she always felt exposed. Like she was only seconds away from dying horribly. Granted that would just be a one way ticket home. While there were certainly slower ways to go than battle, it worked against all the self preservation she had developed over thirty years of life. Plus, she couldn’t leave Aragorn here on his own. So she off loaded her last few arrows into the orcs in the clearing and jumped immediately in front of a young family being charged by a gang.

Kylie looked for an ally amongst them, quickly spotting the oldest son. He could not have been more than fourteen. Without hesitation, Kylie tossed him the dwarf dagger that she always had concealed underneath her tunic. “Defend your family, or we are all lost!”

The boy’s face shone with an odd mix of excitement and terror as he stood protectively in front of his mother and younger siblings.

Kylie, for her part, continued to parry and disarm any orcs that came her way. She thought about how proud Dwalin would be to see her now. Not that she had too much strength to just push away the orcs with brute force, but she was able to get in their way and attack before they knew what was going on.

“Men of Barath, to me!” called out the old man, brandishing his pitchfork high. The rally seemed to be working! The orcs were beginning to run south. What they must have thought the village would be an easy slaughter, not expecting them to put up a fight. And most certainly not expecting two rangers. In amidst the smoke, the men of town cheered.

“Well don’t just stand there, to the wells!”

Kylie watched as the men raced towards the outside of town. She was tempted to follow, but she knew they needed to follow the orcs. If for no other reason than to make sure they never returned.

“Estel!” she cried out. She saw Aragorn’s head pop out from behind the roof where she’d left it. “To the end of town! We need to try to take out stragglers!”

She thought she saw him nod, but soon his head quickly dropped from out of view. Kylie didn’t waste time; she raced to the edge of town, trying to catch any orcs she could. They were just too fast, so she reached back to retrieve her arrows.

Oh yeah. She’d used the last ones in the town square.

Suddenly one zipped past her. Aragorn was at her side, his own bow notched. But it seemed as though the orcs were too far for even his superior eyesight to detect them.

“I guess they really are going,” mumbled Kylie.

“Then let us return to put the fires out!” cried Aragorn. Without hesitating, he turned around and sprinted back towards the flames.

Chapter Text

“Oh, you return.”

Kylie barely held back a glare at the old man who scowled at them as they returned to town. Clearly he was some sort of leader; Kylie saw him directing his people around to the wells. He was trying to get them to prioritize the buildings in the village center to keep the fires from spreading further. To some level of success as well.

“Where are the wells?” asked Aragorn.

The old man continued his look of utter distaste, but pointed Aragorn in the right direction. Kylie hesitated; she was very close to giving this old prick a piece of her mind….

“Kylie, come!” the young man cried.

Kylie sighed, equally frustrated that her partner had called her by her given name rather than the one she used for travel. Still, she followed him to the nearest well. The villagers were screaming, old men trying to pump water as quickly as they could. Aragorn jumped in their place and took control of the levers. With a strong young man at the helm, the water flowed quickly, and people filled their buckets to fight the fires at a faster rate. Kylie watched as two small girls, both maybe around five years old, carried a bucket together towards their home. Even if the orcs were gone, they had left considerable damage in their wake. It took hours, but soon any buildings that could be saved were. The darkness resumed, only interrupted by the haze of the cindering buildings.

“Please,” called the old man, “confirm with your neighbors that their home still stands. Shelter any who are without structure.”

“If you could direct us to the local inn, I would be much obliged,” said Kylie simply.

The man crossed his arms and gave his head a sharp jerk to the right. “It lies yonder at the end of the village, although you might have noticed it will certainly be out of commission for many moons.”

Kylie looked. Yes, she remembered putting water on the flames of that building herself. Until all the villagers agreed it was unsavable.

The man continued: “The two of you will not survive the darkness outside; it has taken a number of your kind already.”

“Darkness? What do you mean?”

He shook his head and glared. “Not now, when the shadows are so close!”

“Then at least give us lodgings of some sort. Please,” said Aragorn.

The man looked between the two and sighed. Kylie forced herself to remember that this was no orc chieftain or southern ruffian; this was just a guy trying to do the best he could for his people. It still didn’t make her like him though. “I have a barn where the two of you may be safe. I do not make promises… but it may be enough.”

“Thank you,” responded Aragorn.

“Come!” They followed their unwitting host to the edge of town. His land, to Kylie’s relief, did not border the barrow downs. But the hairs on the back of her neck still stood erect, and she found herself very ready to be inside something safe. Although “safe” looked like it was going to be a very loosely used term this evening. The man unlatched the hinges to what honestly looked more like a lean-to with a door. Inside there were sheep and goats who stared at them as though personally offended that their nightly routine was being disrupted.

“Get inside! And if you value your lives, you will not leave until morning.” With that he slammed the barn door shut, shaking the entire building in the process. Kylie could hear his footsteps carrying him to his own home.

Kylie took off her cloak and her traveling pack. “Estel, get some sleep. I’ll take first watch.”

“Watch?” he yawned. “You afraid of the goats?”

“Well now that you mention it,” Kylie mumbled, looking down at the bleating animals serving as their roommates for the night. Having not grown up in the country, Kylie had been surprised three years ago when she woke up with a goat literally eating her cloak off her very back. Kíli had sent her a new one (likely after laughing for minutes on end while reading the story), but she didn’t want a repeat. “Yes. But if the man isn’t sure it’ll be safe in here, we cannot afford to be surprised. Just go to sleep.”

Apparently too tired to argue, Aragorn passed out on the hay next to her. Kylie waited, looking through the hole in the door. Hoping that the man was wrong and whatever terror would not visit the village that night.

She ended up waking up Aragorn right before what would have been considered Thorin’s third watch. While the night outside had been completely still, she found herself so uneasy that her body would not rest even if she wanted it to. And of course a few good nights’ sleep in Bree helped ease her need for a full eight hours. But eventually, more out of prudence than anything else, she roused her younger companion and told him to wake her at sunrise.

“You are welcome, for not letting the goats eat you in your sleep,” he snickered.

“Ha. Ha.” Kylie wiped her face on her cloak and brushed off some stray straw just as the door opened.

“Ah, not dead yet I see,” grumbled the old man. He still kept his gruff demeanor, but looked to be in a considerably better mood today than last night. Although last night his village was literally burning down around him.

“Thank you, sir, for your hospitality.”

He leaned on his staff. “Now I would like to know whom I was hospitable to.”

Far enough. “My name is Helen,” said Kylie, giving him her mother’s name. Just a little taste of home whenever she met someone new. “And this is… Strider.”

She really hoped Aragorn was not staring at her. It was his name. In some universe. Just not one that he’d heard yet. And one that didn’t originate with Kylie until this very moment.

The man’s face hardened. “Now miss to mean no disrespect, but that is not the name I heard your companion shout out last night.”

Damn it. “As you promptly observed, we are of the Rangers of the North. And for reasons such as what you saw last night, sometimes a degree of anonymity is safer.”

The man’s face darkened. “How can I trust someone who will not even give the most basic of information?”

Kylie sighed. “Fine. My name is Kylie. But I’d appreciate you not blabbing about it with everyone.”

The man nodded, his face betraying confusion at the 21st century lingo spread throughout her vocabulary. “And my name is Marshall.”

“And are you in charge of this village, Marshall?”

The old man sighed, staring off into the distance in the direction Kylie knew lay the crypts of the kings of old. “Of sorts,” he finally responded.

Kylie decided to take the chance and pulled a missing flier from Bree out of her pocket. “What do you know about these?”

Marshall barely glanced at the thing in her hands before snorting darkly. “That was from when we thought we had hope.”

“How so?” asked Aragorn.

Marshall shook his head. “Nothing. The two of you should leave town while you can.”

“We came here to get to the bottom of this,” Kylie insisted. “If you give us some more information perhaps we could do so.”

The old man gave them both a strange look. “On your own heads be it. Follow me.”

The two rangers followed Marshall across the village, which looked almost as desolate in the daylight as it did at night. There were a few venders in the street that stayed close to their wares. Even a few small children playing, but they seemed to not have the carefree innocence that the young should have. They stayed close to the buildings, their heads constantly looking from one way to another. Looking for danger. Kylie found herself watching them closely; it tore at her heart.

“Where are all your men?” Aragorn asked Marshall.

Marshall began the tale. “It began around two years agos. Young men from Bree began to go missing. Not that that’s too much our business; we trade with the men of Bree but little more. But whatever it was, it seemed to spread here. At first a young father would not come home from a night at the inn. Then some hired hands. Then the town guard went missing. Then the mayor tried to stay up all night and catch these things.” He shook his head. “I have not seen my son since that night eight months past.”

“I am really sorry,” said Aragorn softly. Kylie was still observing town. Watching all those small children with no fathers.

“We of course have tried to post a guard. Efforts were made to build a wall, but it was abandoned and we could not continue. We have written to Bree for a better defense of sorts… all to no avail. The guards go missing and the town stays silent.”

“They are posting your flyers though,” affirmed Kylie. “For better or worse.”

“Truth be told, I think the time is long gone for that. I have no hope of finding my son, or any of his peers, alive again.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes before reaching the ledge overlooking the Barrow Downs. In the daylight they looked like innocent mounds of grass blowing in the wind, but Kylie knew better.

“Our people have existed here for generations, guarding the tombs of the kings of old. That was how Barath began; as the facilitators of the funerals of men. Great folk, Kings of the North even, would come for miles to lay their lords to rest. These names are lost to time now, but we still stand. We lived here long before the Wights invaded. You know of those evil creatures, correct?”

Aragorn nodded. “Evil spirits with a love for treasure and a disdain for life.”

“Ah, I see the Rangers provide a decent education after all. But yes. Typically the wights stay in their barrows, but all in this village know better than to approach when the fogs appear. That is when they have their power. But something has changed in the last year and a half. Before he went missing, my boy Marlam noticed that the fog was beginning to extend into the village itself. If the fog was in town, somebody would be gone. If it did not reach us, we would be safe for the night.”

Kylie did not stop staring at the ancient tombs. She knew, deep down, that something of great evil was at work here. And she doubted the wisdom of keeping Aragorn and the palantír here to figure it out.

But the young man seemed completely enthralled by Marshall’s tale. “You seem to believe the buildings are safe. Do they not enter?” he asked.

“Thus far no,” affirmed Marshall. “They are not yet so bold.”

“You and your people should leave,” said Kylie slowly. “I do not know what, but there is something at work here beyond orcs and goblins.”

Marshall glanced at her. “And go where? None of my people can afford a home in Bree. And what of the farmland and harvest? There may be hope once the fruit of the land has been collected… but not before. No miss, this is our home. Most my age are determined to stay and defend it.”

“Defend against what though?” asked Kylie seriously. “There’s not a good defense they can be mounted for something such as this.”

Marshall continued to stare at the mounds, completely resigned. “Aye, there is not. So we will simply do what we can to survive.”

“And we,” promised Aragorn, “will do what we can to explore the root of this problem.”

Kylie wanted to kick him for committing them.

“As I said, on your own head be it. However if you wish to stay, I highly suggest finding someone of the village who is willing to host you. You are welcome to my stables in the event that this is impossible, but like I said; when the fog comes there is no telling what comes with it.”

Chapter Text

Kylie sat on the ledge of one of the partially burnt houses on the edge of town. This entire adventure was making her a bit uneasy. When she and Aragorn agreed to come to town, she thought that maybe they were just going to kill a few extra orcs. Or maybe a rogue wolf pack. This was supernatural, and while she knew there was a Ringwraiths and Barrow Wights were quite different, the similarity of their powers scared her. The only thing that kept her in town was the fact that she knew the power of these lesser spirits was limited. They were not connected and controlled by Sauron in the same way as far as she knew. No rings or anything like that. They did not have enough brains to be hunting them.

Of course the main reason they hadn’t left was definitely that Aragorn’s big mouth had told people they’d help.

“Excuse me miss?” Kylie left her contemplation to see a teenage boy standing before her. It took her a minute to recognize him as the one she’d lent her dagger to the previous night. It shocked her that she had forgotten it so easily. It was a gift to her through Dwalin before she left the Lonely Mountain over a decade before. He said she needed a replacement for the one destroyed by the Nazgûl, and he was right. It had saved her life many times in her life in the wild. But last night was such a whirlwind that she’d all but forgotten it. Now there it was, in this boy’s hands. “This is yours. Thank you for your assistance in saving mine and my family’s lives last night.”

Instinctively, Kylie looked behind him to see his mother standing there, nodding approvingly.

“Thank you, young sir.” Kylie inspected her dagger only to find, much to her amusement, that it was covered by a black substance. Looks like the boy managed to nick an orc or two after all. “Although word to the wise, if you ever borrow a weapon from a friend, be sure to clean it off before returning it.”

The boy’s mother approached. “It looked valuable, we weren’t sure if soap and water would suffice.”

“Oh it’s no big deal! I’ll show you.” Kylie bent down towards the grass and wiped the blade and the orc blood coming clean off. “A little grass is good enough for most weapons.” Especially those of dwarvish make.

The woman nodded. “What do you say?”

“Thank you,” said the boy, his voice cracking.

“Anytime. I am called Helen of the Rangers.”

“Jarath, son of Jarad,” the boy replied.

“Well met, Jarath son of Jarad.” She didn’t want to ask where the boys father was. Probably among the missing.

“Jarath, go care for your sisters,” said his mother as she ushered him away. She stayed still, arms crossed, and Kylie took a good look at her. Despite the fact that this woman had several kids, she was probably close to Kylie’s own age. Or at least the age she should be if her body had felt like catching up. But she was worn. There were a few greys growing above her ears, and worry lines etched into her brow. And her eyes had bags under them, subtle enough to not be the first thing Kylie noticed but significant enough to tell her the attack on the town was not the first sleepless night this woman had faced.

“The Rangers sent you?” asked the woman, still not quite making eye contact.

Kylie nodded. “Sort of. Our leadership is a little scattered, so we do not often receive direct orders. But Strider and I saw this town was in need, so we came.”

The woman stared at her four children playing in the distance, being supervised by the older brother. “Their father has been gone for nearly four months now. We had hoped that he may still return to us. If not….”

“Well it seems like you’re raising them right.”

“We… we try.”

The two women stood in silence for a moment, watching a little piece of innocence in a dark time.

“What do you know of the barrow downs?” Kylie whispered eventually.

“Oh they have never been a threat. Do not misunderstand,” she added at Kylie’s inquisitive look, “We are not naive. My father maintained the lands on the western tombs. And his father before that. So long as they were gone by nightfall, nothing would befall them.”

“Do you know what would happen to someone in the downs after nightfall?”

The woman shook her head. “Not in precise terms; that is why they never stayed that long.”

“Your father now? Is he around?”

The woman shook her head. “He was one of the first to go. I am sure you have noticed that most of the men of fighting age have disappeared.”

Kylie nodded. That was certainly on the list of things that disturbed her.

“If you are wanting to know more,” said the woman, “you might consider asking Morena. She is among the first to have lost kin. A son. Never truly liked the man to be honest; he had a bit of a squint that always had me ill at ease. Nevertheless, he was of our village and his loss was keenly felt.”

Kylie nodded. “Thank you, I will go check it out. Where does she live?”

The young woman pointed. “The last house on the village row. Closest to the Downs. Some say it is cursed, but more than likely her location is why her son went first. But she is well traveled and has a reputation for knowledge in our community.”

Kylie nodded. “Thank you very much….”

“Elda. And the thanks is mine, Helen of the Rangers.” She closed her eyes. “I am well aware of the fact that my children would have been slaughtered before me if not for your arrival. For that, I owe you a debt.”

Kylie walked down to where she knew Aragorn was sitting, watching as though the famed wights would jump out and challenge him to a duel. Or make googly eyes at him. Whatever came first.

“You know this is not the place to be standing,” she said as she approached.

“Only at night. As it is just now midday, I like my odds.”

Kylie shook her head. No need for the boy to be reckless…. “Still, I would rather you not take chances.” When he sighed, she continued to try to change topics. “I may have a lead. I know the first person to have disappeared in town, so if we talk to her she might have more information.”

“Her?” asked Aragorn, now turning to his companion.

“Well her son. And word on the street is she keeps an ear to the ground, so she might be able to point us in the right direction. Although,” here she lowered her voice. “In truth Strider, I do not know there is much we can do here. There might be an evil beyond our capabilities.”

He gave her a strange look. “I thought that was what the Rangers of the North dealt with?”

Kylie shrugged. “Sometimes, but it’s usually just orcs.”

“Sometimes?”

“I personally never have.” Due to her highly specific situation, Kylie would normally leave if anything extra strange seemed to be happening. For a while it caused problems with herself and some of the Rangers, but Elrond had intervened. He had ridden to the encampment himself and told her, with an audience present, that she was not in any uncertain terms to take chances. A little theatrical in her opinion, but it got the job done. No one ever bothered her for fleeing danger again. Especially when she made sure such flights were rare.

“Why? Why when there is great evil like this do the ones supposed to be protecting these people flee?”

Kylie shrugged. “There are some evils that cannot be conquered until the King’s return.”

Aragorn glared at her. “Kylie you know….”

She threw her hands up. “I’m not trying to convince you of anything; I’m just telling you how it is.”

The young man looked back at the tombs. “Still, it feels wrong to run.”

“Perhaps. Sometimes running, though, gives us the chance to fight another day.”

“But these people are good people,” said Aragorn. I saw how they fought for their village last night.”

Kylie nodded. “Most people are. Most people are just trying to live their lives, work their lands, and love their families. But the evil that is rising,” she lowered her voice, still uncomfortable talking about the evil literally ten feet away from a certain iteration of it, “it wants to stop that. It does not want people to be free, to be able to care for each other. It wants slaves. It wants power.”

“Wealth?” Strider asked.

Kylie shrugged, remembering the dragon sickness that lay on Erebor for so long. Was there a connection between that and the dwarf rings? Kylie figured she would never know. “I suppose so, if it caused you to put your wealth over your kin.”

Aragorn nodded, still staring at the Barrow Downs. “I would see these lands free. I would see these people, able to live and love as they were intended to.”

Kylie looked at him. Dare she admit, he looked regal. She thought she saw a flash of the Aragorn who she knew over a decade ago in that young face. Perhaps there was hope for him yet….

“If that is the case, then we ought to go speak with Morena. She lives in that house on the edge, and seems to be the best lead we are going to get.”

Finally turning from the barrows, the young man met Kylie’s eyes. “Very well, lead the way.”

“On one condition.” She lowered her voice to barely a whisper and approached him. “Aragorn, I know you do not love your… your ancestry. But it is still to be safeguarded. If I get the sense that something in this town will put you at risk, or will put me at risk, we will leave. We will be gone, no questions asked. Please promise me that, if such a time comes, you will follow my lead and obey.”

Kylie saw the battle inside the man. On one hand, he really did have no love for the heritage passed onto him and the implications of that on his life. But ironically this nobility seemed to be the thing driving him to serve this town. Deep down, he seemed to want to be the man he was born to be. To be the King she knew he could be. Kylie found that strangely comforting.

“Very well,” Aragorn finally conceded.

“Good. Then let’s see if we can do some good here first,” she turned her heel and continued back up the hill, the man following her.

“By the way, this… Strider…where does that come from?”

Kylie choked a little bit. “Well see, all rangers have a travel name to keep us safe from identification….”

“Yes, but Strider?”

“Yes! For your long strides.” She just couldn’t think of anything else quickly enough. It very well could have been the original reason anyways.

“My long strides?” he asked, overtaking her up the hill.

“We’ve been doing a lot of walking, and yes sometimes it’s hard to keep up.”

“That is not that my strides are long, but rather that yours are so short!”

“Excuse you?”

Aragorn cocked an eyebrow. “When I first saw you I thought you were a dwarf.”

“You did not sir; you were ten.”

“You blended in with them well enough.”

Kylie laughed, picturing herself standing side by side with Kíli and nobody being able to tell the difference. “You’re just lucky I didn’t decide to call you Longlegs instead.”

“You wouldn’t….”

“Next village, that is your introduction. Unless you want to keep Strider of course.”

The two humans laughed as they approached the house.

Chapter Text

It was times like these that Kylie missed the invention of the doorbell. When they arrived, Aragorn gave the door a good, firm knock. Nothing. After maybe 10 minutes, he knocked again.

“Hello?” she cried.

Silence.

“You don’t think she was taken?” asked Aragorn softly.

“Taken where?” asked a voice behind them.

The pair whirled around to see the oldest woman Kylie had seen in a long time. Well she had her great grandmother back in Seattle, but nobody seemed to live that long here in Middle Earth. This woman, however, seemed to be approaching eighty. But to Kylie’s absolute shock, she looked exactly like an ancient version of her best friend Leila from home. They were the same height, same complexion, and even the same filled in eyebrows that her friend had worked so hard to maintain before their senior photos. It almost made Kylie want to call out her friend’s name. But she knew that was crazy. Leila lived a world away, doing God knows what by this point. This woman was from Middle Earth, and had lived in the village her entire life. She probably had no idea that there even could be other worlds people could come from.

Still, it was uncanny.

“I heard throughout town you might be seeking me out,” she said, putting down the sticks she had gathered for fire.

Real small town probs. “My name is Helen….”

The old lady laughed and threw her head back, just like Leila used to. “Now that is not the name I heard you speak in town last night. Come on, little miss. Try again.”

Kylie sighed. It made her feel quite a bit less bad making Aragorn deal with the name Strider if she was going to have to deal with this time and time again. “My travel name is Helen, but I was born Kylie.”

“Strange name,” the woman reminisced. “I have never heard one like it. And I traveled much with my husband in our younger years.”

Kylie shrugged. “My parents were strange people.”

“Still, I have never heard the name in Rohan nor Gondor. Certainly not here. Even in the south that name is unheard of.”

Kylie laughed. “I suppose it’s good for riddles then, isn’t it. Like I said. My parents were unique people. Marched to the beat of their own drums.”

The woman appeared deep in thought, likely deciphering a phrase that Kylie was near certain she had never heard before. “Nevermind then, why don’t you come in dears? It has been long since I have entertained visitors. I have some tea that I can share, although mind you resources are scare.”

Aragorn gave a slight bow. “We thank you for your generosity m’lady.”

“And your name, young man?”

“Strider, Ranger of the North.”

“Ah. One of these travel names as well, I suppose. But I will not press. If you don’t mind opening the door, Strider. You will find it is unlocked. It takes a lot of effort for these old bones to make a fire.”

“That, we can help you with,” he said, taking the wood from her while Kylie opened the door.

“Yes you are too kind. Too kind indeed….”

The trio entered the house. Kylie figured that, if her great grandmother had lived in Middle Earth, her house would look something like this. It was cozy, with many seats covered in what looked like crocheted blankets. The living room was tiny, but lined with many exquisite pieces of furniture with carvings from most cultures Kylie was familiar with crammed inside. Yet somehow it didn’t feel chaotic, but warm. Like a home. When she looked at the surrounding walls, she was surprised to see paintings everywhere of scenes from all over the world. Kylie recognized a few and gazed longingly at the places she had not seen in years. There was Edoras, Minas Tirith, and perhaps an old version of Osgiliath from when it was inhabitable. But next to the fireplace she spotted one of the Lonely Mountain. It must have been painted long before the dragon became she saw the entrance of Erebor bustling with life. Her heart ached to be there again. Kíli had invited her last time she had seen him. Maybe someday… if the world ever became safe….

“You look as though you know,” said the woman knowingly, placing her old hands on the young girl’s shoulder.

“Kylie has been there before. When the King Under the Mountain returned,” said Aragorn as he placed the sticks in the fireplace and began making a spark.

“Ah, that must be a tale. Even in our village we know of the fall of the dragon. How came you to be a part of it?”

Kylie smiled. “It’s a long story. Ran into a troop of dwarves near the Trollshaws and the rest is history. You ever been that way?”

Morena looked as though she was trying to recall decades’ worth of memories in moments. “My husband and myself never did travel that way. For all our married life, there was a dragon. No work could be done there.”

“You traveled much?”

“Far. Few have had such opportunities. But come, I would certainly have interest in hearing your account of the reclaiming of the Lonely Mountain!”

Kylie forced herself to turn away from the painting. “The story will need to wait, I am afraid. I am sure you are aware that Strider and I are not here on a social call.”

Morena sighed and walked to the kitchen area. Soon the only sound in the room was that of her putting water in the kettle. Kylie felt bad for the old woman. She never wanted to dredge up people’s worst memories, and the night of losing her son must have been that. But it was the only way. “I am sorry, this must be difficult for you….”

Morena waved her hand, but looked so much more frail than she had minutes before. “Go ahead and have a seat. I fear I may not be of as much aid as the town may have led you to believe. Nevertheless, I will do what I can. Anything for Padraig.”

The sorrow in the old woman’s eyes broke Kylie’s heart. It distinctively reminded her of years ago, sophomore year of high school, when Leila’s mother passed away. It was cancer, of a quickly lethal variety. It seemed to Kylie that one minute Mrs. Amin was fine one day and dead the next. At the funeral… Kylie had never seen Leila look so lost. So empty. She saw that same emptiness in Morena’s eyes before her now.

Aragorn cleared his throat. “If you do not mind telling us… of the night Padraig disappeared.”

Morena set the kettle on the fire, taking her own place on the chair next to it. She motioned for Kylie and Aragorn to sit down on the sofa across from her. Even with the sun high in the sky, the old woman looked nervous to tell the story. “We are no fools, of course. Even with my husband’s travels as extensive as they were, we still knew the stories of the Downs. Do not go to the mounds at night. Especially do not go out in the fog. Once my husband passed, Padraig and myself moved here more permanently. Keeping our roots alive, you see. He worked the land, kept some degree of his father’s trade alive, and I sold our wares in town. We were content, in truth, until that night….”

Kylie waited patiently for the old woman to resume.

“I could feel it in my bones; something was different. Something was strange that night. I urged Padraig to remain inside, but he would not listen. I know not if either of you have experience with children,” she paused to give her listeners time to shake their heads, “but you cannot control them. They must make their own decisions. Padraig made his. He went out, armed with the axe we used for firewood. I went to the window upstairs to watch. The night was young, but it looked older than I have ever seen. There was an eerie green haze. Now please know, that is normal within the valley of the kings. That is how we know we must not enter. But this haze was almost right up to my doorstep. It looked as though it was trying to extend into town, but it was weak.”

“But that haze, it is not supposed to extend beyond the graves,” said Aragorn, as though trying to draw more out of the old woman.

Morena closed her eyes and nodded. Leila did that often following her mother’s death…. “Nevertheless, it traveled this far up. That was when I saw them. Black shadows, cold as death, walking in the night. You know, boy, of what I speak?”

Aragorn’s face paled. “The Wights.”

Morena nodded vigorously. “And yes, they are supposed to remain within their tombs of old. Yet here they were. As if asking for a cup of tea.” Her eyes met the kettle in the fire and stayed silent, lip quivering as though she barely dared to speak.

“If you would like to finish later….”

“No, I must do this now. While I have strength. There were four wandering in the fog. I do not know if Padraig saw them. I could not tell. But… one approached him… touched him on the shoulder… I saw him fall….” The old lady stopped.

Kylie did not know what to say. She went over to the old lady and put her hand on her shoulder, kneeling down to eye level. “You have done honor to his name,” she said. “We will do what we can to avenge his death.”

“He may not be dead.”

Both women turned to Aragorn behind them. The young man fiddled his fingers. “Wights do not have the power to kill, at least outright. If they touched Padraig, he may have simply collapsed and been taken back to the Barrows alive.”

Morena looked at the young man, eyes wide with shock. “But surely after over a year….”

Aragorn shook his head. “Once the victims are rendered unconscious, they are almost preserved in that state until the wights return to kill them in more conventional methods. Usually a knife from what I have read. There is an opportunity for rescue, even if not many are saved in the end.”

“So there is a chance then! A chance that those who are missing could be alive!”

The old woman looked at them, the spark of an idea in her eyes. “You propose then, that you might be able to save those in the tombs? To awaken them?”

Aragorn nodded.

“That works in theory,” interjected Kylie, “but… Strider, as you proposing we go into the Downs themselves?”

“Possibly,” replied the young man, realizing the implications of his words.

“If you wish to explore the inside, you will need as much daylight as possible,” said Morena. “And time is not on our side.” She looked out and the younger two followed her gaze. They could see the sun setting on the horizon. “The town will not be safe now, please feel free to stay in the upstairs room. It belonged to Padraig, but I suppose I shall gift it to you in his honor. Feel free to bring in your things and make yourselves at home. There is only one bed, but I trust you have made do with less.”

“Much less,” said Kylie, “we appreciate your hospitality.”

“Then go, get your things from where you were last night. You may partake of any food you find in the pantry when you awaken. My one request: once the sun goes down please stay upstairs.” Her mouth curved up into a weak smile. “I do wish to be of aid, but an old woman still has her privacy which she wishes to keep.”

“That is certainly a condition we can fulfill.”

“But then tomorrow,” Morena’s eyes flashed with determination. “You must promise to enter. To find my son. To see if he still draws breath. I must know… you cannot understand… but… I am his mother….”

“We will,” whispered Aragorn.

Chapter Text

Aragorn returned to Marshall’s barn to collect their packs. The horses still had not returned with their extra supplies, which worried Kylie a little. The horses should have returned once they realized their owners were out of danger. Of course, maybe the whole situation with the wights messed with the horses’ senses. Or maybe the horses were smarter than their masters…. Nevertheless, she decided it was more important to finish what they started here than to worry about transportation for the moment. If they did not show up in the week, they would borrow some from Bree. Plus, the Palantír was in her satchel that Kylie swore now to keep on her person at all times.

“Do you believe we could do it?” Kylie asked Aragorn. “Go into the crypt and rescue everyone?”

Aragorn shrugged. “It is a risk, I know. But presuming we can get in at first light, we should be able to traverse throughout the mountain. From everything I have read, the Wights will have spent too much energy at night to do much in the light of day.”

“Even inside the tunnels?”

Aragorn nodded. “The sun still rules, even if it is unseen.”

Kylie nodded. “How deep do the tunnels go?”

“Across the range and to the other side,” said the young man with near certainty. I believe it will take us a day, maybe two, to pass all the way through. At least from what I recall on the maps.”

“We cannot take that long, but we might at least be able to see if anyone is still alive.”

Aragorn nodded vigorously. “If they are, we can circle around and try the entrance on the far side of the mountains and try to save a few more.”

Kylie nodded. It looks like they had a plan. Or the beginnings of the plan at any rate. “We should probably turn in. Especially if we want to be up at sunrise to journey in.”

Aragorn nodded and took his bedroll to the floor. “You take the bed, Kylie. I will be comfortable here.”

“Come-on Strider, don’t be a fool.”

“I’m not. My mother would have my head if I shared a bed with another woman to whom I am not wed.”

“Fine, but you get the bed tomorrow.”

“And force a lady to take the floor?” he asked indignantly. “Mother raised me better than that.”

Kylie laughed. Oh the ways of this world were so different from her own. Still, she decided not to downgrade his sensibilities and placed her things at the foot of the bed to make more room for her companion. But she had to ask: “Your mother, what is she like?”

“Have you not met her?” he asked.

“Somehow no. Never had the pleasure.”

She saw the young man smile. “She is the most amazing woman I have ever known. She is fierce and wise beyond her years. No matter what, no matter what situation I found myself in, somehow she always knew what to say. I am sure you know: she brought me to Rivendell alone after my father died. Doubtlessly saved both of our lives.”

Kylie asked this next question slowly: “Did she know you left?”

Aragorn’s face twisted in shame. “She knows what I think of my conversation with Lord Elrond. It saddened her, I believe. She seemed afraid to push, but she told me of my father. His love for me and how he wanted to see me grow… how the orcs had robbed them both of that chance.” Aragorn’s grey eyes met Kylie’s. “She has not spoken of my father for so long. Maybe she thought if she spoke I would guess? I know not. But the day I left… I feared if I left with warning she would not have allowed me to depart.”

Kylie shook her head. “I’m sure she’d know you need to forge your own path. I mean she knew who she married… she knew what she was getting herself into.”

Aragorn nodded but turned the question on Kylie. “Did you tell your mother when you left home?”

Kylie sighed. “Yes and no.” Of course her parents knew that she’d left for high school graduation, but nobody expected her to not arrive. “There are things about me I cannot reveal to you yet… I am here because of an accident though. Woke up far from home, and it’s quite challenging for me to get back.” Many times, actually, Kylie had considered allowing herself to be felled in battle. Every once in a while, whilst fighting orcs, she had the temptation to let them win. Let them kill her. If that happened, she would wake up in a hospital bed with her mother staring down. It had been so long… her heart ached for her mom. And dad. And even her brother Connor’s stupid smile and inappropriate jokes. But she recalled her promise to Thorin. Her life here was precious, and she could not end her life here so that her life elsewhere could resume.

Especially not after the mess she’d made.

“What is your mother like?”

Aragorn’s question shook her from contemplation. “A lot like me really; I’m my mother’s daughter. She’s stubborn, loyal, and loves fiercely. Like there was one time when I was playing a tennis match… uh it’s a game where you hit balls across a room… and the ref made a bad call.”

“Ref? Call?”

“A referee. They’re supposed to make sure everybody plays the game fairly. Anyways, he made a call that was against me and my mother hopped the fence and gave him a piece of her mind.”

“How old were you?”

“Twelve. At that point I had never been more embarrassed in my entire life.”

The two shared a brief laugh. “What’s her name?” Aragorn questioned.

“Helen.”

“So you honor her by taking that as your travel name?”

Kylie nodded. “Which I really do need you to use when we’re in public, Strider.”

Aragorn sat up. “I do apologize… I forgot and… Kylie is your name.”

“Peace. I know. It’s just… there’s danger out there. I don’t use my name not just because most rangers do not, but because of certain consequences that could come. I mean hell you saw Morena’s reaction to my name; imagine if it was someone dangerous!”

Aragorn lowered his eyes. “Kylie, I will never use your name outside the boundaries of Imladris again.”

Kylie nodded, but she was curious about one thing. The sun was down. She wondered, if she looked out the window, would she see anything? Morena had apparently done so the night of the first attack, so feeling it was safe to take the same course of action, Kylie cracked it open barely an inch.

The ground around them was covered in an eerie mist. It was so thick that it looked like they were floating on a green cloud sailing across the afternoon sky. So there it was; the dead were coming. She closed the window. Her curiosity had waned; she did not want to see the barrow wights. As much as she knew they would not come through the window, she did not even want to have to look at them. She’d seen enough of the undead to last her a lifetime.

“Anything out there?”

Kylie nodded. “We are lucky to be in here. Now get some sleep, Strider. The two of us have a big day tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

How long had they been asleep actually? Kylie stirred herself awake as she felt the sun high in the sky.

“Aragorn!” she threw her shoe at the sleeping man who just grumbled in his bag.

“We overslept! Big time.”

“Five more minutes mam….”

Kylie groaned, looking out the window. It must have been noon? Maybe as late as three? She really missed having a watch in her pocket. But they had certainly lost their chance to go to the Downs that day… she didn’t trust that they would be able to go five paces without being caught.

“We’re prepared for the day?” Aragorn asked, still quite groggy.

“We’re not going anywhere today. Least not by the Downs.”

The young man seemed to just register what was happening. “How did we oversleep?”

“I don’t know,” snapped Kylie, “but the wrights will be stirring by the time we arrive.”

Aragorn joined Kylie by the window, moaning. “Is there nothing more we can do?”

“I guess we could scout around. See if there’s anything worth seeing.”

Aragorn nodded, washing his face in the basin and putting on his vest and sword. “I am ready to leave whenever you are.”

They went down the stairs, half expecting to see some sort of sign of Morena. It appeared that their host had already left to collect some sort of firewood, or another task that she had to do to stay alive. Kylie’s heart hurt for the old woman, on her own and trying to just live in a world that didn’t have things like social security and community centers for bingo.

They found some cheese and toast left on the oven for them and went out. Kylie had forgotten exactly how close this woman’s house was from the barrow downs themselves. Now, in the middle of the day, with no haze in sight, they had resumed their facade of just being normal little hills rather than death traps. They almost reminded her of the hobbit holes on the corner of Bag End. After this adventure, she was really looking forward to some time with Bilbo and his hospitality.

“Do we split up?” asked Aragorn.

“Sometimes when on the hunt, a ranger would split from his partner. But today, I think it best that we stay together.”

“Good.” Aragorn looked like he was trying to hide the relief in his eyes. “What exactly are we looking for?”

Kylie shrugged. “Generally, when tracking things, you look for any disturbance in the land. As so:” Kylie jumped with one foot on a soft pile of grass, leaving a hard footprint. “Look at my marking and tell me what you see.”

Aragorn crouched down. “I see the shape of your boot very clearly. In fact, much more clearly than the other tracks you have made. This print is much more developed than that one, or that one, or that one.”

Kylie was impressed that he was able to gather that much this early on. “You have learned to track before?”

“A little,” the man admitted. “In recent years Elladan and Elrohir would take me on their hunts. They would teach me a few things.”

“Good.” This could actually work to their advantage. Kylie knew that she had a normal human’s eyes. Aragorn, on the other hand, could see much more clearly anything that could be around. “How about you hone your skills now; look around and let me know what you see.”

Aragorn nodded and made a beeline for the nearest barrow. It was sealed with a stone door, which Kylie made a mental note of. That could be a problem for any day in which they decided to enter. Either way, Aragorn got to work. He was trying to see if there was anything at the entrance of that tomb, which made sense considering they knew this was the source of their problems.

“I believe I found the tracks of the wights. Here,” he pointed to an oddly shaped indentation in the ground. “It is a large boot, as with a traveler with a long gait. But it is light on the ground; he does not carry the weight that accompanies a track that size. But here this is interesting… look!”

Kylie bent down next to him. There was one track that even her feeble eyes could see. It was long and thin, but she could clearly make it five toes at the top. Make no mistake; this was a human footprint.

“What was a barefoot human doing out here?” whispered Kylie.

Aragorn shook his head. “I do not know, but this footprint is certainly less than a day old. I don’t know for sure that they were here at night but….”

“You can’t exclude that idea.” Kylie stood up, looking around. What was at work here?

But Aragorn was not done. “And look!” He moved several paces away and Kylie noticed marking she would know from anywhere: orc.

“It must be from the troop that attacked the village a few nights ago!”

“They look organized, as though they all came together from across the plain….”

Kylie swallowed hard. “Well let’s follow them and find out.”

Aragorn stood up, and followed the tracks towards the far end of the downs. Eventually, even Kylie was able to see all the boots clearly from her vantage point. She saw clear evidence of the fifty or so orcs they had dispatched a few nights ago. The same thing that had bothered her then was bothering her now. Aragorn said they looked organized, and Kylie could see it in the tracks they had left. They seemed to have come together with the express purpose of destroying Barath. Sure orcs attacked villages all the time, but typically it was more similar of a relationship to that of a toddler and a marshmallow. If the child sees the marshmallow, it will eat it. If the orcs see a village, they will attack. Neither typically sets out to accomplish such a goal, it simply happens.

Suddenly Aragorn let out a cry and rushed forward. They were on the southern end of the downs now, and he picked a black flag up off the ground. He laid it out, but it was no good to Kylie. She could never hope to understand the red markings on the fabric.

“It’s a Summoning Flag,” cried Aragorn.

Kylie’s insides flipped. “A what?”

“I’ve seen it in books. In the olden days, dark commanders would send out summons to any orc in the area and gather them at a meeting point marked by this flag.”

Kylie sank to the ground, looking at the piece before her. “So it really was not just chance that brought the orcs upon this village. Someone organized it.”

“Likely not an orc,” Aragorn affirmed quietly. “At least not from my studies.”

“I was afraid of this,” whispered Kylie, “the attack on this village was deliberate. Maybe strategic even. Somebody, someone we don’t know, wanted to wipe Barath from the face of the map.”

“Yes, but why?” Aragorn was clearly baffled. “It holds no strategic value. It is a day away from Bree, several weeks from Imladris. These men are no warriors, just farmers and tradesmen. Why would orcs specifically target this town?”

“I do not know, but we are not staying to find out.” When Aragorn’s face fell, she continued. “This is the type of thing I was talking about. I don’t know what is at work here, but the risk is too great.”

“We must warn the village….”

“Of course we will. We will do that. We will warn them, accompany them to Bree. Once there we will send word to Lord Elrond, and then we will either find our horses or rent new ones and flee.”

Apparently Marshall had expected to never see either one of them again. His eyes widened and he dropped his staff as the two rangers approached with a seriousness that he was certainly not expecting at this point in the afternoon.

“Well, it has been a while…” he started lightly.

“Do you know what this is?” asked Kylie as Aragorn held the summoning flag in front of him.

While the old man clearly had no idea what he was staring at, he was knowledgeable enough of the world to know it was not merely a large piece of fabric. “Does it have to do with the orc attack?”

“Yes,” said Kylie. “It was planned, the whole thing. Someone wanted the orcs here. Someone was trying to kill you and all your people.”

The old man’s face went white as a sheet. “But why… of what importance are we?”

“I don’t know, and frankly I don’t care. Marshall, you need to get everybody out of this village right now. Today if possible, tomorrow at latest. I know you said going to Bree would be a challenge for your people, but now you have no choice. Either you go or you all die.”

The old shepherd nodded, whistling for his herd. “Help me,” he implored the rangers. “Help me get them out.”

They did not hesitate. They went door to door, knocking and calling for the people to come out. Marshall was standing in the middle of town, hollering for everyone to join for a town meeting of utmost importance. Kylie even thought to elicit the help of Jarath and some of his friends to help gather people in town.

“My dear people of Barath, for centuries we have called these lands our homes. Our forefathers cared for the kings, but it appears the kings no longer care for us.” Kylie noticed a hint of color on Aragorn’s face as Marshall held up the summoning flag. “The orcs that attacked us those days ago came with a purpose: to destroy us all. We cannot know how long it will be before they come again. Please, gather your carts and ponies. Take only what you need; we leave for Bree at sunrise.”

Kylie was surprised at the command this old man had over the village. Before she knew it, everyone seemed to be running into their homes, gathering their livestock, and packing essentials into carts. Neighbors shared and conspired on the best way for the children to travel. The teenage boys practiced pulling carts to see what sort of weight their growing bodies would be able to handle. All seemed to go according to plan. Kylie only wished they were not waiting so long; it was going to be dark soon. The two rangers returned to Morena’s home to take shelter.

When they arrived, she was sitting in her rocking chair, wrapped in a blanket and gripping a warm cup of tea. Nothing was packed. Kylie was shocked; there was no way Morena did not know about the emergency within the village. She was far too keen for that. But here she was, ignoring the danger.

“Morena, aren’t you ready to go? People are leaving in the morning!”

The old woman sat dejectedly by the fireplace. “I had hoped that I would see my son before my departure.”

Kylie closed her eyes. Clearly they had sparked a hope in this old woman that they had no right to give. “We are sorry… normally Strider and I awake with the sun. This morning… something strange happened. And orcs are closing in. Morena I am sorry, there is nothing we could do.”

“So you just need to awake with the sun?” she turned to them, a tear in her eye as she spoke.

“To have enough time in the barrows before the wights realize what we’re doing? Yes.”

The old woman stood up. “I believe I can be of assistance at that. If I promise to awaken you before the sun, do you swear to enter and search for my son?”

Kylie stared at her mournful face and turned to Aragorn. He too looked troubled, but turned to her and nodded. “I think we can do that, Morena.”

The old woman sighed. “Thank you. I owe you… well we can discuss that later. For now, go get some rest. It appears as though there is a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

Kylie shuddered awake as she heard Morena lightly tapping on hers and Aragorn’s door. The two rangers got up and solemnly armed themselves for what they sincerely hoped they would not find. With a final nod, Kylie placed her satchel around her body and the two went downstairs.

“Oh Morena, you didn’t have to…” Kylie trailed off, seeing the breakfast on the table.

The old woman simply shook her head. “You need your strength for what must be done.”

Once they finished eating, Morena insisted on walking with them to the barrows, torch in hand. The sun was slowly rising, and there was not a sign of mist on the grounds. It appeared that luck was on their side.

“Do remember,” Morena added helpfully, “legends say even the very breath of the Wights can be deadly. Supposedly it can send you into a dark sleep from which you will never awaken. Even their very items can be cursed, so you must be careful what you handle inside the tombs. Our people made many impressive crafts, but you must do your best to ignore them. If the wights are awake….”

“Hopefully we’ll be in and out too quickly to have to think about that,” said Kylie, putting her spare torch in her satchel. Marshall had been so good as to loan them four when they approached him about their plan. They were leaving forever, he’d said sadly. He wouldn’t need them. But he was willing to sacrifice them for a fools chance of seeing his son alive again. Kylie was grateful; she knew fire was the only thing that would keep the wights away from them if their theories turned out to be false. But knowing that they possessed a similar power to Black Breath made her feel very uneasy. At least, she told herself, they had gathered plenty of athelas since their departure from Rivendell. She just hoped Aragorn could figure out how to use it. Or that he wouldn’t have to.

“And please… please do bring him back.”

Kylie looked into the old woman’s eyes. “I promise we will try, but please know we have no idea what we’ll find in there. We have no idea if anyone is still alive or if they are gone….”

Morena closed her eyes. “Just… please look.”

Kylie nodded. “That I can promise.”

They approached the barrow. As luck would have it, the stone seemed to be pushed away from the entrance of the tomb. Trying to not think too closely about what she was doing, Kylie lit her torch and plunged into the darkness, Aragorn a few steps behind.

In truth, it was not what she’d expected. Immediately inside was simply a large room with four stone altar looking structures. It was abnormally cold, something she of course took note of, but it held a certain captivating beauty. The stones surrounding them were of stunning make. She wondered if Kíli would have any opinion of the quality of this tomb, but it really did seem fit for a king. Especially with all the treasure in the corners. Kylie could see gold, pearls, rubies, emeralds, opals, sapphires, and even beads of what looked to be mithril. How on earth a kingdom with such clear trade with the dwarves of either Erebor or Moria could fall into ruin was beyond her.

Of course maybe their kingdom died when a Balrog cut off their mithril supply. Who knew.

“Do you think it’s cursed?” asked Aragorn softly.

“Morena mentioned that it could be, but I don’t plan to stick around long enough to find out. After we’re done with our quest, I will take you up to Erebor where you can see all the treasure you want.”

“I’m sure the King Under the Mountain would be pleased to see you again.”

Kylie sighed. “Probably not as pleased as I would be to see him.”

Aragorn stopped. “You miss the dwarves?”

“Yes. I really miss him. Much more than I can bear sometimes. But come on, we don’t want to be here too long.”

There was only one door further into the mountain, so Kylie led the way. She kept at a slow pace in case anything was awake in there but, while clearly haunted, it seemed as though nothing was home. Did wights sleep during the day? Did they go through cycles of unconsciousness just like people? Either way, the humans walked in silence as they progressed through the tunnels. Kylie had been hoping they might be able to find the offshoot of the specific tombs sooner rather than later, but luck was not on her side here. The pair just continued to walk, alert for all that could come.

“Helen, I really do not like this,” Aragorn admitted, about 20 minutes in.

Kylie nodded. Something about this was wrong. Very wrong. Of course the very nature of wrights themselves was wrong…. “We just need to find one tomb. If people are alive, then there’s hope. If they are not….”

“I just have this feeling… this horrible feeling….”

“Feeling?”

She turned to look at him as his footsteps stopped. “That we will never return.”

“It’s just the terror of the wights,” she said quietly. Not sure if she was trying to convince her young companion or herself.

As though something had heard this exchange, a sudden chill filled the tunnel. Both stood absolutely still, back to back, barely willing to even breathe. Several minutes passed before Kylie felt comfortable enough to even consider moving again. The air had not grown any warmer, but they could not remain. She tapped Aragorn on the shoulder and motioned forward.

Suddenly there was an entryway to their left. It was time to see the truth of the matter.

Kylie turned into the room, larger than the one at the entrance but also full of alters on which to pose a body. There must have been at least fifty, and every single one was full. Kylie could not help but gasp at all the bodies surrounding them. All the death.

“This is where we can split, see if any are alive!”

Kylie took the left, Aragorn took the right. Each body was more horrible than the rest.
Kylie walked up to the first, touching it gently. She was never super good at finding a pulse, but she knew she had to try. None. She felt absolutely nothing in his cold wrist. Would there be a pulse after a Wight attack though? She looked closer and closer, only to have her worst fears realized. The man before her was dead. It wasn’t the paleness of the skin or the way his eyes were opened and stared into nothing that gave it away, but the gaping hole in his chest. It was clear that something had stabbed him in the heart.

Body after body was exactly the same. Kylie felt her heart beating faster as she continued to find these men stabbed directly in their hearts. She let out a particular gasp when she saw a man that looked exactly like Jarath lying on an altar, dead. Clearly this was what was left of the boy’s father.

How to break this news….

“Anything?” she cried.

“They’re all dead! All murdered” Aragorn affirmed.

“Alright, we saw. We tried. Now we must go.”

Before they could even take a step out of the room, the temperature dropped suddenly. Kylie froze for a second. Half a second. Something knew they were in there. Something… sentient.

“Run.”

Aragorn led the way, sprinting through the hallways from whence they came. Kylie could only hope that whatever had sensed them was still deep in the earth, and that they would reach daylight before it found them. Worst case scenario, both of their torches were still going strong. While the fire would never defeat a wright, it would repel it away from the door long enough to come to safety. That’s all they needed. Time.

Kylie ran into Aragorn as he suddenly stopped in front of her, dropping her torch. They had reached the first room, why had he stopped?

Kylie picked up her torch and moved out from behind him. The stone door to the entrance room had been sealed shut, but that was not the worst of it. There, inside the main room, were two large wights. They were cloaked entirely in black, to the point where Kylie might have thought they were the Nazgûl themselves except she could see some sort of face under the hoods. They were pale, cruel, but covered head to toe in jewels. She could see the Wights’ pale blue eyes staring at her. Their dead eyes made her remember Thorin’s gold sickness in the mountain. Whatever nobility might have once lived in these halls was long gone.

Standing in the middle of them was Morena.

“Morena, get out!”

The old woman smiled coldly. “Oh I believe you will find I am quite safe in here. Which unfortunately is more than I can say for the two of you.”

“Run!” Kylie called to Aragorn, pulling him back down the tunnel.

Morena cried out something in what Kylie believed to be Black Speech, and the wrights began flying after them.

“Go, go!” she cried. She had to get Aragorn out of there! She ran backwards, trying to keep an eye on the wights in pursuit. They were going faster than she could have anticipated, but she did have one advantage: fire. As long as their fires didn’t go out, they did not seem to want to get too close. “Back away!” she cried, trying to use all the strength and authority in her voice.

Suddenly she tripped on something and fell. Whatever it was, it was soft and cold. She rolled over to see that she had fallen on top of an unconscious Aragorn.

Kylie felt a cold touch on her own shoulder and knew no more.

Chapter Text

When Kylie came to, she realized that she was standing. Everything around her was cold as death. She felt as though she were imprisoned by stone, and when her eyes fluttered open she saw she was not far off the mark. She seemed to be held up by a statue in the corner of the room that held her in such a tight grip that she couldn’t even process how it was possible. She felt rope burn against her wrists. The places where her body did not naturally nestle in the stone were tied to its extremities, so tightly that it hurt to move. Opening her eyes, she saw Aragorn was across the room, in seemingly the exact same situation she was in.

“I would not waste your energy,” said a cold voice. “My servants bound you well. You will only escape with my permission.”

Eyes blazing, Kylie stared ahead at Morena. “You did this?”

The old woman smiled triumphantly. “Of sorts.”

None of it made sense… none of it made sense! The sweet little old lady who reminded Kylie of those dearest to her heart… did this? “Who are you?”

“Oh I never misled you on that: my name is Morena. My husband was born just over the foothills of Bree. A tradesman, which is how we met. We traveled together in our younger days, including different regions of the world where most of his skill would never venture.”

“Tradesmen can’t do this. You lie,” hissed Kylie.

“There is clearly so little you know. For a time the trade was our livelihood, but it opened many doors for us. Opportunities to travel between my homeland and his, and everywhere in between. I knew that different kingdoms, while having no love for our kind, might still recognize a desire for what we had. Of course I had no idea what these things might be until one day, returning from a trip to King Thranduil of Mirkwood, and saw an abandoned fortress in the distance. I have always been gifted, you see, with certain skills and tricks. Somehow I knew that day that we needed to approach the tower. I will admit the terror of the place was thrilling. Familiar, even. That was the day I met my master.”

“Your master?” Kylie felt all the blood drain from her face. If she was talking about what she thought she was, they were in mortal danger. Kylie knew this firsthand. She racked her brain, trying desperately to think of a way to save them. But Morena was telling the truth about one thing: their bonds were tight. Too tight for at least Kylie to break free, especially with the wights and Morena’s attention focused on her. The only hope, she realized, was that perhaps Marshall or Elda or someone might notice that she and Aragorn were not part of the retreat. Or at least Morena… and maybe word might get back to the Dúnadain. Even though it might be futile, she desperately needed to stall.

Thankfully Morena seemed content to keep telling her story. “At first we only felt a cold presence, but I could see beyond. Barely a shadow of what he once was, but I could see the man that had once lived. If it’s even proper to call him a man… he stared at us. He saw that at least I was not afraid. When he spoke it was not as though we speak now, but words in our minds:

“Who art thou, that thou darest enter into my domain?

“We are simpler travelers, my husband replied quickly, who wish to distribute our wares.

“Or provide other forms of service for which we might be useful. I added. I knew full well that he did not desire my husband’s tinkering.”

While Morena was talking, Kylie could see Aragorn struggling with his ropes. His bonds did not seem to be as repressive as hers. She briefly wondered why, but decided it didn’t matter. He seemed to be getting somewhere! Perhaps at least he could get out of here… be free….

And warn Lord Elrond of what was about to come.

Morena continued: “My master stared at us intently. From whence do you hail? He asked.

“Barath, I replied, A tiny village outside of Bree in Eriador. On the borders of the Barrow Downs.

“Eriador, my master repeated. I may perhaps then have use of thee. Too long have my servants tried to gain a foothold there of no avail. And yet that region may be of utmost importance for what I have intended….

“That intrigued me. What have you intended, my Lord?

“He did not speak, but rather showed me a world that could be ours. A world where all peoples would bow before me as a sort of queen regent. I could feel the power coursing in my veins.”

Kylie decided to venture a chance: “You know that world does not exist for you, right? If he rules, he will be the only regent of such a world.”

Morena laughed. “I think you will find my Lord Sauron treats his friends far differently from his enemies.”

“He doesn’t have friends, you moron!” she hissed in return.

Morena returned with a look that scared her. “After today, I believe he will. For when we left that place, we left with a simple task: pass along information. If there are any odd movements in the world of man or elf or dwarf, pass it along. From time to time a crow would come to our door, wherever in the world we were, by which we would be able to send back information. Now my husband passed soon after, but my son would fulfill orders for our Master. As for me, Sauron would send me tasks as well. He saw me for who I was that day: powerful. He gave me tasks that would allow me to grow my power.”

Morena turned to the wights and barked an order at them in black speech. They walked from the door blocking the exit to the door leading into the mountain. If Aragorn could undo his bonds, he would have a clear shot to freedom! Kylie prayed that he wouldn’t be noble and try to save her, but there was no way to get him such a message without alerting Morena. “He gave you powers…” Kylie mumbled so the old lady would have to move closer, “to control the dead?”

Morena’s eyes lit up. “That among other things. He gave me some ways to influence time… I am much older than you might believe. Which is why most people in the town believe I was born here. Not so; I was born in the south. My powers have kept me alive much longer than our feeble human lifespan. But through the teachings of Sauron, I have been made powerful. I am able to transfigure that very stone into a loaf of bread if I so chose. If I wished, I could also boil the very blood within you. Not a very pleasant way to go,” she licked her lips.

“Time… time,” repeated Kylie. “Did you make me and Aragorn sleep in yesterday?”

“Oh the two of you more than slept in. You did not leave that room for a week.”

“A week?” cried Kylie.

“With two rangers on my doorstep, asking about my plans? I needed time. Time to decide how to respond.”

“But why the dead?” Kylie asked. If Aragorn was going to get out, he needed as much information as possible. His ropes were nearly free.

“My Lord Master is not naive. He knows he has not the strength to control the realms of the South and Gondor. He just now recovered what he needed to reclaim the lands of Mordor. But, what if the race of men were gone from the north? Eradicated. Further… what if they could be turned?”

“Turned?” Kylie felt she might be sick.

“Some men will choose to follow my Lord Master of their own wills. Most, however, will not. Look no further than your very own Dúnadain.” Kylie thanked the Valar that Morena did not turn to Aragorn as she mentioned his kin. “They will never turn of their own volition to fight for Lord Sauron. But with the right magic… the right substance… their forms will do exactly what I tell them to.”

“So it was you! You set the wights free! You made them more powerful so they would take the town!” One thing didn’t make sense. “What about Bree? They’re not powerful enough to go that far yet, are they?”

“Oh gracious no. Padraig gave some aid there. He would bring back drunkards, one by one, and bring them to the tombs for me. The dead would do the rest.”

“Did they even get him at all or was that a lie?”

Morena shrugged. “That tale was true as well. A small price to pay, for the reign of my Lord to return. He needed to be sure this plan would work as aspired. Admittedly, we began hastily. My contacts admitted that to me themselves, but there was a very specific instance that led him to pursue this path of victory in Eriador.”

Kylie felt her stomach sink.

“Just over a decade ago, my son received summons for an assassination. Promise of five hundred gold pieces, payment in full, just for the head of a dwarf. Unfortunately he was unsuccessful and it appears the dwarf accomplished the task which was to be thwarted. Yet what my Master found to be most interesting was this: about two months before this great failure was confirmed, he had a guest visitor in his fortress. One he did not recognize, so he searched her. He found many things he did not expect, a world that seemed completely foreign to him. Then he saw the most disturbing thing: he saw his return to Barad-dûr. He saw his tower crumble and his Eye go out forever. Unfortunately he was unable to detain this girl, but he sent one of his commanders to bring her back for questioning. The commander was destroyed, along with his forces led by Azog the Defiler and the great General Bolg. Although, I suppose you know this tale better than I do, do you not Kylie?”

Kylie only stared ahead. She had no idea what to do. Aragorn’s left arm was free and he was working furiously on his right.

“Of course my master sent word to all his contacts to keep an eye out for such a person. A young girl, barely twenty by the reckoning of men, who seems to be from a strange land and who has a strong familiarity with dwarves. You will of course forgive me if I presume….”

“You do realize how many rangers have traveled to the Lonely Mountain since its reclamation, correct?” This was a lie, but she had to try something.

“Perhaps. Yet as I recall, you indicated before that you were a part of that story?”

Kylie trembled.

“I suppose I cannot fault you for attempting to hide your identity. Fate is truly a funny thing. Imagine, you come right in time to intervene in our plan during its final stages. We nearly had the entire village enslaved, and with the orcs would have finished the job that night… so imagine my surprise when two rangers appear on the scene. Still, it does not matter. We will take them still. With the extra bodies we will have the strength to extend to Bree. Once Bree is gone, it should be easy to overtake Lord Elrond in Rivendell.”

Kylie saw Aragorn’s eyes widen as his right hand was almost free. They locked eyes and Kylie chanced looking at the door to try to give him a hint.

“Not that you will likely see this. As I said, fate is a funny thing. Not only do you appear now in my grasp, but you come bringing the one thing that can ease communication with my Master.” Morena grabbed Kyile’s satchel, and dumped the contents until the Palantír came tumbling out.

Aragorn burst loose and made a break for the door.

Chapter Text

Kylie yelled and kicked to try to stun Morena, trying to to distract her from Aragorn’s escape attempt. To give him the best shot possible.

Quick as life, Aragorn reached the door and gave it a push. Nothing. He tried to push the rock to the side but it did not even quiver. He tried to pull, but if possible the rock gave even less indication of any possibility of moving.

“Fool!” laughed Morena. “Did you believe I would let you escape that easily?” She barked something in Black Speech and the two wights walked towards Aragorn. She added one more thing and Kylie looked in horror as her young companion slumped over as the undead carried him back to the statue he was being held by. Morena moved her hands swiftly when the young human was back, and this time the stone itself formed the shackles to hold Aragorn at bay. He seemed awake, but only barely.

“Did you really think,” she cackled, “that I would leave the exit unattended! No, that stone is held in place by a powerful spell. Only myself or a Commander of the Dark Lord can touch it in hopes to unseal this tomb!”

“You… witch….” Kylie wanted to use a different rhyming word, but witch was more appropriate.

Morena shrugged. “You could call me that, if you wish. I suppose it is technically true. However, what you call me matters little. I believe our little conversation has come to an end. I believe now is the time to contact my Master and see what desires he has for you and for what lies within your mind.”

Kylie began to struggle against the stone. It was tight, and the wights were barely a pace away now, but she had to try. She had to fight. She wondered if this was what it felt like when Thorin was fighting the gold sickness. Or even Lord Denethor fighting the madness brought upon by the palantír. It seemed completely futile, but she remembered Thorin’s dying words to her: fight the darkness.

She was trying.

Suddenly a burst of light appeared in the room. Morena had touched the palantír and was groaning as it burst into flames. Kylie had seen this before and knew exactly what was happening: Sauron was now in the room. And the witch was conversing with him.

“Hail Lord Sauron!”

Morena’s eyes closed in an odd combination of pain and ecstasy. Kylie had no idea what was being said, but it could not be good.

“I know not from whence this Seeing Stone came, but I found her, my Lord. I found the one whom you seek.” A brief pause as Sauron must have been responding to the witch. “Yes my Lord, I will bring her to you.”

Morena removed a single hand from the palantír and motioned to the wights, speaking in black tongue. They approached forward, removing Kylie’s bonds. She felt a sudden sense of cold that made her nearly slip out of consciousness. She really wanted to; it would have been ideal. But she just could not. It felt as though they were holding back some power in order to keep her awake. Could nothing go right?

They dragged her to the palantír and placed her hands upon it. Once on they released their grip, but the deed was done. Kylie felt the familiar sensation of being glued to the black sphere of glass. She felt the invasion of her mind, but could not hear the voice. There was just a buzzing in the background of her very soul, trying to penetrate as though chipping at stone with a toothpick. But it did not have to talk to her; it began sorting through memories.

No.

With a force of strength, Kylie let go of the palantír, allowing herself to sink to the ground. But no use. The Wights propped her back up, and again she could feel Sauron rushing to invade her mind.

Kylie struggled, trying to think of anything she could do to fight what she knew to be Sauron going through her memories! She imagined a wall between her and the Dark Lord, and that seemed to hold for a few minutes, but soon it fell. She then imagined herself in a fortress, hidden in a maze where Sauron could not find her. She felt him searching and searching, but nothing yet.

“Why is the connection so weak…” said Morena, more to herself than Kylie.

But Kylie was not strong enough to keep Sauron at bay for very long. Suddenly a presence burst into the room and it was over; memories started coming.

Fine. If he wanted to see her memories, then so be it. She determined that he would see the memories that would be least helpful to his purpose.

So Kylie thought back to her earliest childhood memory. She saw herself in her preschool uniform, at a desk with three other kids. Each kid had a smooth stone, red tape, and markers. They were making ladybugs to put outside in the garden. Unfortunately, Kylie had decided that it would be fun to play non-consensual catch with one of her classmates and tossed the ladybug rock directly at the person in front of her. Her eyes widened as her classmate began to cry. Ironically that was how she and Becca had become close friends.

Next memory. Kylie remembered herself trying to learn how to ride a bike. She must have been five and Connor was eight. He was teasing her because of the training wheels. But even with the training wheels Kylie seemed to be falling off every five minutes.

Next memory. First day of first grade, where Kylie met the boy who would be her first serious boyfriend. Her mind skipped ahead to herself and Aaron, at age seventeen, making out below the bleachers at their junior year homecoming game. She really didn’t know what she thought of the Dark Lord Sauron viewing that memory, but it was better than any of Middle Earth.

She skipped back to a more wholesome memory, of her friend Brigid inviting her to youth group and some of the songs they sang. Sauron quickly bypassed that memory, and she was back to senior year. Herself, Leila, and Becca were holding the regional tennis trophy. Kylie tried to reach further back and remember every single match she played that tournament. Every hit, every miss….

“Why can’t he see you?” yelled Morena.

That break was enough for Kylie to be able to remove her hands from the palantír. She fell to the ground, panting, trying to catch her breath and recover. She knew she would likely be at this for… for…. She just couldn’t see a way this could end in anything other than death.

“Why can’t you see her, Lord?” There was a brief pause as Sauron was clearly conveying what he saw to Morena. The witch’s eyes flashed towards Kylie. “Another realm? A whole different world. I did not know such things existed. Yes… yes… sever the connection. How, my Lord?”

Sever the connection? What on earth…?

Morena yelled out in Black Speech and the wights picked Kylie back up and placed her hands on the palantír once more. She dropped to her knees and cried in pain. She could only see the eye of Sauron, trying to penetrate her once more. But he seemed utterly unable; able to only access her memories. Even then she had some control. Her mind quickly took her to eighth grade graduation, then to freshman tennis tryouts. Suddenly it just stopped, and she only found herself staring directly into the eye of Sauron.

“Your spirit lies between two worlds,” moaned Morena slowly. “We are going to change that now.” Keeping one hand on the palantír, Morena placed her thumb on Kylie’s forehead and began chanting in Black Speech. She felt as though Sauron was saying something as well as the buzzing was becoming unbearable. It increased to ringing, and eventually it was as though millions of sirens were going off in her head. She tried to break away, but the wights held her hands firmly on the palantír.

Pain. The entire world erupted in pain. Kylie screamed. Her memories were flooding back. She tried to control them, and to a degree was able to keep them on her life from home. She remembered first day of Middle School, meeting Leila, her first time holding a tennis racket… but the pain kept increasing. There were no memories. There was only her, the witch, and the Dark Lord.

The chanting got louder and louder, the sirens grew louder and louder, and suddenly she heard it. The voice of Sauron. She heard him speaking in Black Tongue. To her surprise, it was not as horrifying of a voice as she might have thought. Rather it was smoothe, like velvet or chocolate. If she could actually hear him… if he could actually see him… it was truly over.

“Who are you?” she heard in her mind, in a tone that made her want to answer more than anything else.

Suddenly she felt herself leave. She felt her spirit fly up, out of the tomb. She looked in horror as the body she left behind collapsed, barely being held up by the wights. Morena barked at them, but Kylie herself was not going to respond. She was long gone.

Chapter Text

The sensation was the strangest thing Kylie had ever felt. It was different from the last time when she died at the Black Gate. The pain had slowly grown to be less, transferring from her fatal wound to what caused her to black out in the first place… really it felt more like a transition to one world than another. That was not what had happened here. She was floating, in the dark. This was not the darkness of the Black Breath, but rather nothingness. She was not imprisoned; she neither felt safe nor unsafe.

But what had happened to her?

Slowly the darkness beneath her seemed to open up, and she found herself viewing a scene that she felt should be familiar. A highway… in a torrential downpour. Blue and red lights were everywhere. As though a screen was finally coming into focus, she could make out the police cars and ambulance. There was an accident, and it looked really bad. She could barely make out firemen cutting into one of the vehicles, pulling someone out, and quickly wheeling them to the ambulance. It took a minute, but she recognized the car. She hadn’t seen it for twelve years now, but she recognized the blue sedan that she’d gotten for her sweet sixteen.

What was left of it anyways.

The scene transformed slowly. The rain faded, the highway slowly morphed into a hospital room. Kylie could then see clearly that the crash she had just witnessed was the one that had propelled her into the last twelve years of her life. She remembered precious little about it, and it became clear why. It was bad. Even in her time in Middle Earth, fighting orcs and wargs and the undead, she had never seen herself so wounded. And she’d had out of body experiences before. Doctors were quickly operating, trying to save… well everything it looked like. Her nose, her legs… she was grateful that there was a glaze right over the surgery so that she couldn’t see exactly what the doctors were doing, but the scene painted a clear picture nonetheless. She was hurt beyond description.

They wheeled her out of surgery, and the scene changed. If she had to guess, she was now in room 202 but it had been long enough since she had been at North Central that she just was not sure. What shocked her were the wires. Now Kylie, the former clutz, had been hooked up to hospital machines before. She’d had her blood pressure taken, blood drawn, IV drips, and all manner of things. But it looked like the hospital had taken every single machine they owned and plugged her into it. There were wires in her arm, wires coming out of every corner of her gown, and she could see a breathing tube at her nose. Was she even still alive? A faint beeping in the room seemed to confirm this theory, but even with its assurance Kylie was not so sure.

Her parents were there, talking to the nurse. Based on what she could see, the prognosis did not look good. She thought she could see her parents clinging on to hope… but only just.

The next few scenes whipped by so quickly that she could hardly distinguish them. Doctors came in and out, as well as her friends and family. Leila brought her some flowers and a coloring book. Brigid brought an Oregon State scarf and placed it around her neck. Connor pulled up a chair and started talking to her. Then another scene showed him bringing in another girl. And another, and another….

Dang Connor, could you just pick one?

Finally the scenes seemed to slow and everything came into focus. This time her entire family was there. Mom, Dad, Connor… but they had looks on her faces that were hard to read. It took some deciphering, and honestly if Kylie had spent any less time in the great wars of Middle Earth she might not have been able to read them. But she did eventually come to realize what she saw in their eyes. She’d seen those exact looks in her fellowship’s eyes at the Black Gate. She’d seen them on Kíli’s face when he approached Thorin. She’d seen it on Hallbarad when Hallavan lay in a pool of blood after being hit by many arrows. It was the look of a final goodbye.

No….

Why wasn’t she returning to her body? This wasn’t what happened last time!

“What happens now,” dad asked slowly. So she could finally hear….

“If you are ready,” said the nurse gently, “we will begin turning off the machines. We have given her medication so there should be no pain.”

Pain? No pain? Why would she feel pain…?

“How long…?” she could see that her mother did not want to finish the sentence.

“With the amount of life support she has required, I would say minutes at most.”

Kylie felt her stomach drop. She was on life support?

Connor began pacing the room nervously. “I can’t… I am sorry… I cannot….”

“If you would like,” she added quietly, “you can say your good-bye now. Before I begin the process.”

“But….”

“It is perfectly normal. Sometimes family wishes to stay, sometimes it is too much. Whatever will help you with the process.”

Kylie watched Connor turn to her parents and then drop to his knees sobbing, clutching Kylie. It brought tears to her own eyes. Her big brother… the one who teased her countless times when they were children… the one who put bugs in her bag and peed on her toilet… he wanted her back. This couldn’t be happening… she had to get back! She tried to climb into the room, climb back into her body… but it was no use. It was as though she was looking down from an impenetrable glass ceiling. She slammed her fists into it, tried jumping up and down, even attempted to body slam it. No matter what she tried, it wouldn’t budge. All her efforts were for nothing; there was no going back. She could only watch helplessly as Connor finished his goodbyes and left the room quickly.

She saw dad turn to mom. “I… I should go with him….”

Mom nodded. “I will stay here… until….”

Dad gave mom a tight hug and turned to Kylie, dropping to his knees. There was not a tear in his eye, but Kylie knew her daddy was not one to cry. She’d actually never seen him do so. But his face looked broken in a way she had hoped she would never have to see.

“Good-bye, princess.” He picked her up, giving her a firm hug for several minutes. Eventually he put her down, kissed her forehead, and left the room.

The nurse stood still until finally only mom was left in the room. “Mrs. Turney, do you give consent for me to turn off the machines?”

Kylie choked back tears as mom could only nod.

With the gentleness of a saint, the nurse pulled up a chair right by Kylie’s bed. “If you would like,” she added.

Mom walked up to the chair and sat down slowly, holding Kylie’s hand. Watching the scene above, Kylie knew she only had minutes left. There was nothing she could do… nothing. And she only had minutes left.

“Mom? Mommy?” she cried from above. Of course her mom could not hear her. Wherever she was, it was not in that hospital room. Still, she knew in her heart of hearts that she was about to die. Only minutes… but minutes for an opportunity that she knew many people in this state did not get. Her mom would say good-byes to her… but she could also say a good-bye to her mom.

“Mommy… good-bye. I love you.” As she was not dead yet, the nurse had yet to turn off every machine, she let the words spill out of her mouth with absolutely no filter. “I have lived a good life the last twelve years. Not sure if it’s been twelve for you… but a really good life! I went on many adventures. I have had a chance to try to make the world a better place. And I even met someone!”

The last phrase even shocked herself. How had she not realized the extent of her feelings for Kíli sooner? How had she departed from that mountain, heart burning, without knowing the truth? Time after time… letter after letter… she had no clue! “He’s a King, mom. I met him traveling… and… he’s funny! I mean he’s been through some real shit but he is funny and lively… and fair… I don’t know if he feels the same way but I always want to be with him. I miss him more than… more than I have missed you, dad, and Connor at times.” She felt so guilty to admit that last part. She supposed she always assumed she would have a chance to go back and resume normal life. That chance was dying with every button the nurse below pressed.

“I always thought I would come back. I thought I would be able to go to college… keep playing tennis… have Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter… I thought… I thought we had time. Mom, I am so sorry… I thought there was time. I miss the times when we would laugh… when you would yell at people debating on tv… when Connor and I took your credit card and snuck into the movies….”

She thought she could see the breath hitch in herself below. The vision was beginning to fade from view.

“Mom, I’m so sorry, I love you! I love you so much,” tears were coming faster than they’d ever come before, but she kept rambling. “Please tell dad and Connor that I love them so much… I don’t want to go… but I love you!”

As the vision closed up, Kylie thought she saw her mom look up and make eye contact with her. She hoped it was so, but soon it was gone. The vision was gone.

She was gone.

Chapter Text

But Kylie did not have time to process death before she felt the world spinning around her. She observed the constant tugs in her body as she spun and spun, but couldn’t manage to care. Not after what she saw. But she let out an involuntary gasp as she fell onto dirt ground. She was no longer nowhere. Instead of nothing, she could feel the coarseness of the ground beneath her. The air was comfortably warm, and her eyes were greeted with a huge palace etched in stone. The front facade looked like a strange combination of Erebor, Helm’s Deep, and Minas Tirith. It was the most impressive structure she had ever seen in her life… and she’d seen some pretty cool things. And this palace was one of many, all seemingly connected but in the most unrealistic ways imaginable. She looked around and saw multiple roads, like the one she was on now, extending throughout every crevice of the city. Towers leaned together perpendicularly. Carvings of every age and race mashed together. She could see elven light on the far right, but swore she saw something that looked like the Empire State building hundreds of feet up. It felt more like home than any place she had ever lived in her entire life. But what was this place?

Transfixed, tears still in her eyes and on her face, she stood up staring at the door of the palace. Somehow she knew that she was not meant to move even a step closer, but she heard voices on the inside. Loud, boisterous voices. The average human might have thought that these were the voices of war or of a fight, but Kylie knew better. These were the jubilant voices of dwarves on the other side of the wall.

Where exactly was she?

Kylie stood still when saw the door open. She clutched for her sword, only to find it was not at her side. She had no sword, no bow, and not even the dwarven dagger that she always kept hidden. Wherever she was, she was completely defenseless. She stood in ready position as the door opened, revealing a familiar face.

“Thorin?” Since the funeral, she had never expected to see him again, yet here he was in front of her. Looking much better than he had last time she’d seen him… like even before the battle. He seemed years (decades? centuries in dwarf years?) younger than the last time she’d laid eyes on him. The gray streaks in his hair were gone, the lines of worry etched across his face were nowhere to be found… he looked happy. Peaceful. “Thorin, I thought you were dead!”

The dwarf king nodded, a tiny hint of confusion on his face. “And I thought you were not?”

Kylie looked downcast, hardly able to move. “I think I am this time. I saw myself die at home… I think it might be real….”

Thorin stared sympathetically towards her, taking in the tears covering her face. “I would come to you,” he said quietly, “but we must not approach closer than we are now. I belong to this world now, but you are not meant to stay.”

“What is going on? What do you mean?”

“This,” said Thorin, motioning around him, “is the life set aside for my people after our time in Middle Earth is done. It is a beautiful place,” he turned around as though to admire it from the outside, “where want and pain are no more. Even vengeance and pride have no place in these halls.”

“So… dwarf heaven?”

Thorin nodded, smiling. “That could be an apt manner of phrasing for you.”

Kylie shrugged. “But why am I here?”

“I… admit I do not understand. Perhaps tell me your tale and the truth will come.”

“Truth will come?”

Thorin nodded. “Knowledge and wisdom are different here than in either of the worlds we come from. In both of our worlds they must be striven for and ascertained with often futile work and sometimes pain. Here they come naturally. Tell your tale, and I may be able to tell you more.”

Kylie sat down, Thorin followed suit. She recounted everything that had happened since the Battle of Five Armies: her staying to help Kíli, her joining the rangers, and many other tales before this one. When she got to her and Aragorn reaching Barath and Morena, Thorin finally interjected.

“Ah, so you too encountered the assassins who wished to take my life.”

“You knew about him?”

Thorin nodded. “Even before the quest, I knew of the price on my head. Gandalf told me as much when we met in Bree and agreed to reclaim Erebor. A very chance meeting, for you to run into them as well.”

Kylie nodded. “Well apparently you were lucky because they were more dangerous than either of you knew. Morena is a witch. She works directly for Sauron, and she knows the dark arts including raising people from the dead.”

“She knows much more than that. When you are to go back, you must be careful.”

Kylie paused. “I’m going back?”

Thorin nodded. “We will get to that presently; for now continue your tale.”

Kylie nodded slowly. “Aragorn and I went into the barrows. Thorin, they were killing people to build an army of the undead to attack the north! All the people… they’re building… building… but they caught us. Morena figured out who I was and… used the palantír to get me in contact with Sauron.”

“And you held firm,” finished Thorin with certainty.

Kylie nodded. “Yes. I am not entirely sure how, but he did not see any memories concerning the ring. She said the connection was bad….”

“Ah,” nodded Thorin, “He was unable to see because your spirit existed in two places at the same time. He could never hope to have control over you while you existed in such a state.”

“So… he killed me?”

Thorin shook his head. “That was not his intent. He simply wished to sever the connection with your home world. Fortunately or unfortunately, it did not have the consequences he hoped.”

“If it did… he would have been able to see every memory I had of the ring. Wouldn’t he?” When Thorin simply nodded, Kylie felt herself go pale. “You don’t suppose they’re still looking for memories do you? While I’m up here and everything?”

“No, because your consciousness and spirit are here. There is nothing for them to obtain.”

“Wait Thorin, I’m confused: am I dead?”

Thorin considered his words. “In your world, unfortunately, yes. I regret to say that you will never return there. Although it seems you knew this in your heart. But in Middle Earth, your body is being preserved through the power of the barrow wights. Further, they are not even aware that this is what is happening. The witch, the ranger, and the wights and Sauron himself all believe you to be dead.”

“I’m going to be sick….”

Thorin smiled. “You will not be sick here.”

The feeling of queasiness immediately went away. “But I am still confused, why am I here Thorin? How am I still talking to you even if you are dead and I am not supposed to be?”

Thorin thought. “That information is coming slowly. Answer this question: you could have left Middle Earth at any time. Why did you choose not to?”

“I promised you, remember? I promised that I would fight the darkness. And considering I think I made it darker, I believe I owe it to the world as well.”

Thorin nodded. “I see. Perhaps that is why you come to these halls…” he seemed to say this more to himself than to Kylie. “There is a bond between our houses that you seem just to be beginning to discover. It seems as though the Valar wish to help, but see me as a more fitting messenger than themselves. Perhaps the familiarity, or your promise. Even here I cannot assume to know their intentions. But now your time here is running short, so now you must listen: soon you will return to Middle Earth. You will be in the tombs off to the side, believed to be dead. You must maintain that ruse as long as possible. In order for you to save yourself and the Son of Arathorn you must slay the witch and leave the tunnels.”

“Will the wights be gone once she is?”

Thorin shook his head. “They will flee briefly as her control over them ceases, but still be very much awake. You will need to deal with them before leaving.”

“How?”

“That information is not important at this time.”

“Excuse you?”

Thorin smiled. “You forget, knowledge works differently here. Once knowledge comes it stays with you, but it does not come until it is necessary. The Valar will bless you through your time here, and one manner is through this knowledge. You will experience it for a few hours within the tunnels, I hope you use it well.”

Kylie nodded. “Will we escape the tunnels?”

Thorin shrugged. “The future appears to not be set. I believe if you follow your instincts you and the Heir of Isildur will survive. If not…” His face turned serious. Utterly serious. “Kylie, there is no guarantee that you will escape with your life.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I guess,” she muttered.

Somehow the dwarf king heard her. “No, not so much. Now, it is quickly approaching time for you to leave. I urge you to not forget this place. Use it as a place of hope whenever there is none.”

Kylie nodded, looking Thorin in the eyes. “I do miss you. So does Kíli.”

Thorin nodded, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips. “I know. I do anticipate the day when he comes to these halls and takes his place among our ancestors.” He hesitated before continuing. “If you do see him again, please tell him that Fíli and I are quite happy. That all is well. And we see him and are unspeakably proud of him.”

“You are happy. You are well. You are proud,” Kylie repeated, committing the message to memory. “But now what? Do I sit here and wait?”

“Not at all.” Thorin stood up and looked over the edge of the bridge into the endless ravine. “You must jump, and from there you will be returned to your body.”

Kylie looked at the endless trail of nothingness below her. “Jump? Thorin, are you nuts?”

To her surprise, the dwarf king laughed. His face was filled with jubilation in a way Kylie had never seen before. “You forget that I have experienced true madness in life. Do you think I would succumb to it here?” He had a hint of mirth in his face that distinctively made Kylie think of the nephew that she loved dearly.

“Well pardon me… heights aren’t my thing.”

“Remember, you are currently pure spirit. There is nothing physical that can harm you until you return to your body. Just do remember: once you return to your body you will be as mortal as any other man. I do believe that among the blessings the Valar wish to give is an extension of your lifespan. Nothing to the extent of that of a dwarf, but enough to show gratitude. However, you can most certainly be killed by weapons, disease, black magic… any of the ordinary methods. If you die there are no second chances. No do-overs. No chance to go to your world and return later. You will be here, and that will be final. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Thorin.” Kylie edged the cliff, staring down. Even though she knew his words to be true, she did not relish the thought of dropping thousands of feet only to end up with a witch, two barrow wights, and God knows what else. “Is there anything else I should know before I go?”

Thorin paused and Kylie looked over. He looked very contemplative - as though he was searching for his next few words. “When the time comes, tell Kíli I give him my blessing.”

“Blessing, what?”

“You will know. Now it is time for you to leave, Kylie Turney. I hope not to see you again for many years to come.”

With that, Kylie tumbled down into the darkness. She was not sure if she was pushed or if she jumped, but either way she cried out as she was falling down the endless ravine. She thought she heard the door of the palace close as the very air shifted around her, catching her, spinning her into oblivion.

Then pain. Excruciating pain. Kylie felt herself take in breath, lying on the stone floor. Everything hurt. Everything ached. But she was alive.

Chapter Text

She felt the coldness of the stone beneath her, the staleness of the air around them. Her hands, arms, legs, and feet felt numb to the point that she wondered if they were still attached. Of course, according to Thorin, she’d been pretty much dead for God knows how long. Really all of this was technically an improvement… everything felt improved. The stone felt more real than it ever had here in Middle Earth. Her breath felt more present than it ever had… she felt whole. She hadn’t ever felt the division in her spirit until now… but now she really was here. She was here to stay. Middle Earth was now her permanent home.

Thoughts of Seattle and Earth started coming back, but Kylie pushed them down. Not forever, but she knew she had to be mentally cognizant. Whatever was to come, she could not afford to be emotionally compromised. She needed to be able to think. She needed all her wits. Everything.

But that was not meant to be. To her horror, she couldn’t hear anything. Her eyelids wouldn’t open and nothing in her body would move. She needed to rest… but how could she rest? She was terrified that time was running out; she didn’t have time to rest! But… it was the one thing she knew she needed. So she resigned to laying there on the floor as her body rebooted itself. She didn’t attempt to move or do anything other than breathe. After what seemed to be hours the pain subsided. She thought she could feel her fingers… then toes… then hands… then feet… a certain warmth moving up her legs. It was comfortable. She wanted nothing more than to take a deep breath in, but she knew better. Thorin had told her. Her enemies thought she was dead. She needed to keep up that ruse.

She thought she could hear voices, finally. A male and female voice. As much as she wanted to strain and hear them, she refrained. She could feel the blood pulsing in her head, counting the minutes passing as her body was reworking itself. The voices grew louder, more clear. Eventually she could make them out as she realized her body was fully back and functioning again.

“Who are you?” cried Morena.

“I am Strider… of the Dúnadain.”

Kylie chanced to open her eyes slightly. There, in the middle of the room, stood Aragorn and Morena. His hands were fixed on the palantír, held there by the wights. But his gaze was firm, unwavering. He glared at the palantír with a seriousness that she had never seen on his face. With a regalness that she had not yet seen on his face while still so young.

He was holding the wrath of Sauron at bay.

“Master, I cannot break him,” the old woman moaned.

Kylie took stock of her body. Yes, everything was working again. The pain was gone and she knew that her hands and feet would respond immediately to her command. So what weapons did she have? She was not surprised that she did not feel the sword at her hip nor her bow on her back, although she still mentally cursed herself for not taking her extra arrows from Robin Hood’s saddle when she had the chance. But on her side, against the ground, she felt the dwarf dagger Dwalin had given her. Still in its sheath.

She knew what she must do. But she had to wait for her chance to do it.

Morena, keeping her eyes on the young ranger and hand on the palantír, walked around the young man, touching his face. “You are strong, are you not young one? It matters not.”

The old woman almost had her entire back turned to Kylie. Just a little longer. The wights faces stared blankly head towards the door. She needed to wait until absolutely nobody could possibly be looking….

Morena muttered something in Black Speech and pressed her hand on Aragorn’s head. The young man cried out in pain, but just shifted his gaze towards her. With the full weight of his heritage, Aragorn cried out something in Elvish. Morena took a big step back as though she had been struck.

This would be Kylie’s only chance.

She jumped up and before even Aragorn had time to register surprise on his face, she grabbed Morena’s forehead and pulled her head back. She took the dagger and slid it all the way across her throat.

Screams erupted as the old woman sank to the floor. The wights gave horrifying shrieks and released Aragorn, fleeing further into the mountain. Aragorn also cried out in shock and horror as Morena’s blood sprayed across him, barely missing his face. He released the palantír and lay down panting. Sauron might have screamed, but his eye spun in the Palantír until it was gone.

Silence. Utter silence. It may have been minutes. It may have been hours. But the two living humans just lay there in complete silence.

Kylie was the first to move. Her mind was trying to both process and ignore what she’d just done. She had just killed an old woman. Yes a witch that was trying to kill them, but still… an old woman. An old woman who looked so much like a friend she would never see again…. She shook, pain coming back to her body and exhaustion that she knew she couldn’t afford. “Strider?” she asked quietly as she dropped to her knees.

Aragorn slowly sat up. “Kylie? Do you really live?”

“I better not be hurting this much if I’m not….”

The man rushed over and gave her a crushing hug. “I am so sorry… this is all my fault… I thought she’d killed you. I thought I killed you….”

Kylie lay in his arms. In truth, she was too weak to move too much at the moment. Her body still hurt from its very painful recovery. And memories of her last minutes at home came flashing back…. No. Not now. She couldn’t think about it now. They had to get out of there. “Not quite….”

Aragorn reached into his pockets and took out some athelas. He pulled off one leaf. “Here, please chew on it.” Kylie obliged, and he put his hand on her forehead, whispering softly in elvish. Kylie felt some warmth and life return to her body. Enough to stand and to think.

“What happened to you?” she asked. “When I came to you were at the palantír.”

Aragorn stared at the black sphere, still sitting on the altar. “When you collapsed, the witch tried to revive you with her black arts. She returned to the palantír and informed… the Dark Lord,” Aragorn seemed wisely hesitant to say his name, “That you were gone. He went away for a brief time and she turned to me. She wondered if I might contain the same information you had, so she had the wights take me to the palantír.” Here Aragorn paused. “Was that our task? To get rid of it?”

Kylie nodded slowly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was trying to prevent… well, to prevent exactly what happened.”

Aragorn nodded. “When they placed my hands on there, I knew I was in more peril than I ever have been. She had no idea who I am, but if he had glimpsed it in my mind….” Both shuddered. “So I put up resistance the second my hand touched the stone. I did see him, just like you did. He tried to ask me what I knew of His ring… which to be honest I am only surprised you know something of it. When I was unable to answer, he searched my memories. Which most are safe enough, but there is one he cannot see. You know the one. So I stopped him. I cannot describe what happened next, just simply that I felt as though everything was wrong. That he had invaded my territory and had been using my seeing stones against me. He sensed… something. He tried to ask me who I was, but I only gave the name you gave me. She asked me who I was, but same answer. She tried to curse me, but I invoked the Valar and she could do nothing. You know the rest.”

Kylie looked between her young companion and the corpse of the witch in front of them.

“I do not know how to explain what came over me or what happened….”

“I do,” said Kylie softly. It didn’t take the sense of knowledge from dwarf heaven that she desperately hoped she still had to figure this one out. “You were just you.” The man’s face hardened and Kylie continued. “Listen, I know you have been evading this since he left. But it’s just who you are. You cannot hide from your identity any more than Lord Elrond from his. Or King Kíli’s from his.”

Aragorn nodded slowly. He looked… changed. Emboldened. Hopeful despite the fact that they were in a hopeless place.

“We must get out of here. We’ve spent enough time in here.”

Aragorn nodded. “Yes, and soon. I do not know if you heard this, but Sauron sent one of his agents to take us back to Mordor. One of the nine.

Shit. “Then we must be well on our way before it gets here.”

“Yes but how? The exit is blocked. The only way through is….”

“The mountain. I know.”

As if on cue, they heard moaning from the deep. It seemed as though the dead had awakened.

“Kylie, we need to leave, but we cannot leave them here,” said Aragorn softly. She knew he meant the townsmen who had been taken, murdered, and apparently reanimated. “Even if we are gone and… one of the nine comes… he can still unleash them on the world. We might escape only to be caught as our world burns.”

Burn… that was it. Kylie saw multiple torches and some oil in the room. Miracle of miracles, it seemed as though of all of Morena’s powers she did not know how to make fire. Perhaps Sauron, knowing it was the one thing his commanders feared, did not desire his pawns to be able to manipulate it. She had to bring fire herself, and today that might save many lives.

“Then we burn their world first. Aragorn, take the oil. We are going to spray down everything on our way out and burn it.”

Aragorn nodded. “We must leave a trail and light it on the way out, or the smoke will be the death of us.”

Kylie nodded. “But if it comes down to it, that is a chance we must take.”

Working quickly, Aragorn took the first can of oil and doused everything in the room with it. Kylie took two torches, one in each hand, and led the two down the hallway.

It did not take long for the moaning to get louder and louder. Then the hissing started. Just ahead, Kylie could see the cold eyes of the barrow wights ahead of them. And the blank eyes of the dead. They were coming.

A sudden thought came to her mind: she and Aragorn needed to switch tasks.

“Aragorn, take the torches!” she cried.

“Are you mental?”

“Now!”

Aragorn did and roared at the spirits to stand back. Which they did. As he continued to speak, switching between elvish and common, they stood still. Staring intently.

Kylie quickly reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the athelas, the sacred herb that had now saved her many times. Without thinking, just knowing, she tore off a few leaves and threw them into the fire.

The dead moaned, backing away in fear as the sweet fragrance filled the air.

“Come on,” said Kylie quietly, “we don’t have time to lose.”

They continued down the mountain, slowly but steadily. Kylie poured the oil along the path, dragging the second can along. It was heavy and she really wished Aragorn could be doing this task. Her muscles ached so bad, and she knew that she was in constant danger of dropping their precious oil all over the place. But she knew it was impossible to switch. His was a task that only a King could do. Despite their open defiance, he still had authority over these evil spirits. They still cowered in fear as he walked by. Kylie only made sure to stay close to him, helping him place the athelas in the fire when the sweet scent gave way.

“We are at the first tomb,” he said solemnly.

Kylie picked up the first carton of oil, which was near empty and, walking as far ahead and she dared, splashed it on the corpses standing in the doorway. They would not move. Their minds were gone, unable to understand what was happening and the possible implications.

Thus the two made their way through the mountain, Kylie spilling oil and dousing the tombs and Aragorn commanding the spirits away. Perhaps the dead followed, perhaps not. It was difficult to tell in the utter darkness. They had no idea for how long they were down there. It may have been days. It may have been weeks. Either way, both knew they could have no rest until….

“There’s a light,” Aragorn whispered.

Kylie set down her oil and looked ahead. Yes. Yards away, she could see sunlight. “Good. I think I only have a few drops of oil.”

“Put more athelas in the torch, and let me know when you are out.”

It only took about five minutes before Kylie spilled the last drops, throwing the carton down the hallway.

“Can we make it if we run?” she asked.

“I do not see any more rooms or tombs. I believe we can.”

“Very well. Give me one of your touches.” Aragorn obliged, and Kylie pulled some athelas out of her own pocket. She placed it in the oil, making sure it was nice and wet. “Three… two… one… go….”

Kylie and Aragorn both dropped their torches and ran as the hills erupted in fire around them. They heard screams deep within, both human and inhumane. The smoke grew thick, threatening to suck out the oxygen. But they ignored that. They ignored everything, racing out into the sunlight.

They did not dare to stop even then. They continued running… running… running… as they saw the smoke fill the sky. They continued running until the sun went down and they collapsed. Kylie shuddered and wailed. Now that they were safe, now that they were free, the reality of everything that had happened collapsed in on her. She cried loudly, mourning everything she had lost in the last several days.

Chapter Text

It had taken much extra time, but eventually Kylie and Aragorn rode up to the Grey Havens. The breeze of the waning Autumn rushed passed them and the two humans bundled their cloaks. Kylie’s stash of dwarf gold in her satchel had gotten them just what they needed to reach their destination, but it had been tight. Very tight. They hoped that Lord Círdan would be able to supply them for the return journey. And possibly help them make up some lost time.

In truth, Kylie herself was the reason for their delay. After the horrors of the downs, Aragorn insisted on making their way to civilization. She directed them to Buckland with the intention of remaining a week to treat her wounds. Not that she had anything open that needed specific tending, but in his defense she did die for a minute. Again. As they landed, Kylie realized that he was more worried about the psychological pain. Which was great. A week turned into a month, but they stayed in the hobbit village until Aragorn thought she was fit for travel. In some ways it was actually a bit adorable as he was still learning the healing arts, but also much needed. During that time, she told him the truth of herself, or her origins, and exactly what happened to her in the barrows. His own experiences seemed to have matured him, and he was able to be exactly who she needed him to be at that time. She was grateful that Lord Elrond had imparted so much knowledge of medicine on the young man so that he was able to make sure she was truly okay. Not good by any stretch of the imagination, but okay.

The hands of a king were truly a healer.

But now they rode to the last elven city in the land. From which many people would leave Middle Earth never to return. In truth it was something that Kylie had never completely understood. When Lord Elrond had first told her about the Grey Havens, she had just stared at him and shock and asked why anyone would want to leave. He promptly reminded her of the horrors she had faced while living, at the time, a mere year and a half in the world. Eventually through some growth in maturity, she supposed she did not need to understand these elves. But after the horrors of the last few months, she no longer blamed them for wanting to leave. For wanting to return to a place that felt like home. Something she knew she would never be able to do again.

Still, grateful for life, she breathed in the fresh air of the city. She smelled the leaves in the trees much more clearly than she ever had before. She heard the seagulls much more articulately than she’d heard any animal before the Downs. She observed the smooth stone, and how it was built into the hills as though it had been designed that way at its very creation. Somehow, trees and brush knew exactly where to grow and make this a truly picturesque scene. But every part of the city pointed to the ocean. The long ocean that served as the last view some would have of Middle Earth.

“Makes me miss Imladris,” Aragorn admitted. Kylie could only turn and nod.

Dismounting their horses, they looked for the port. According to Elrond’s instructions, this is where they would find Círdan, the ship master. Kylie thought there was more to this elf than Elrond’s description, but it did not matter. They were almost done with their task. In a short time, the palantír would be gone from their hands and leave Middle Earth forever. Between getting rid of this thing and their delay, Kylie did not want to waste any more time.

The second they began seeing elves, Aragorn went to work. He spoke elvish much better than Kylie (as in… he actually spoke elvish), so he was able to ascertain Lord Círdan’s warabouts with ease. He had a ship scheduled to leave that day so it was on the far western end of the docks.

The news made Kylie want to cry, this evil thing that had caused so much hurt would be sailing away from Middle Earth by sunset.

Truth be told, Círdan was not hard to miss. Not only were bearded elves a rarity, but Kylie’s father had once told her that if you ever want to discover who is in charge, find the one to whom all questions were directed. Heart burning with sorrow for her father, Kylie confidently approached the elf and got in line.

He noticed them almost immediately; two rangers must have stood out well against the crowd because he quickly approached them, not hiding the shock on his face.

“Lord Círdan?” when he nodded slowly, Kylie continued. “We come from Lord Elrond. We have a package… I am sure he notified you….”

The elf’s face paled. “You must come with me. Now.” He turned to the other elves and barked an order. They were all surprised, but nodded at their master’s command. In truth even Kylie and Aragorn balked a little at the authority of the Elf Lord and followed him silently into what must have been an office.

“Lord Círdan, I do apologize, I know we’re a bit behind schedule….” started Kylie

The elf quickly shut the door behind him. “You still live,” he breathed.

Kylie blinked. “What?”

Círdan went to his desk, shuffled through some papers and showed them a letter. Kylie noticed it was in Lord Elrond’s pen. “I was notified of your arrival, and the precise nature of what you would carry, and was told you would arrive later in the summer….”

“My Lord I am sorry, we fell a little behind…” started Aragorn.

Círdan would not be interrupted. “A month later, he sent me a second letter, noting that a certain young man of utmost importance would also be arriving. He told me to tell him….” Here Círdan read out a phrase in elvish that Aragorn seemed to understand. He pouted childishly in the corner.

“I mean I don’t understand that phrase,” said Kylie, “but I’m not sure what that has to do with our package….”

The elf held up his hand. “When you did not arrive, I sent word to Lord Elrond.”

Kylie furrowed her brow. “Your pardon Lord, but we are here now….”

Círdan looked about as flustered as an elf could. “Perhaps I was not clear. When you were set to arrive at summer, I was referring to the summer of last year.”

It took a minute for that information to sink in. “Wait… we’re late? Over a year late?” When the elf nodded, she gasped and turned to Aragorn. “How long were we in the barrows?”

The elf’s face darkened. “Barrows?”

Aragorn relayed the whole story. How they had taken a detour that was meant to be simple but turned dark. He told about how they had gone down, gotten captured. The plan to destroy Eriador through the power of the wights, but how they had gotten out. Kylie was just grateful that he did not tell all her personal losses. Those still weighed too heavily on her heart.

Círdan sat in his chair, rubbing his temples. “It appears we were within an inch of a great peril. The power of the elves could not have withstood such a darkness… you did well. However, you were missed.” Here he presented a third letter, much longer. “When autumn came and you had not arrived, I notified Lord Elrond. He sent many messages to contacts throughout Middle Earth, searching for you. I hear Elladan and Elrohir rode abroad as well. This final letter is nearly half a year old. He presumes you both dead, and the package lost. He warns me and all of Middle Earth of the dark implications. That Sauron will be on the move.”

Kylie dropped into the closest chair possible. It was completely overwhelming. To have lost an entire year? A whole year? And to have everyone think they were dead? She felt sick to her stomach. “I don’t think… well… Sauron did not get what he was looking for.”

“How do you mean?” asked Círdan.

Kylie looked up at him. “I don’t know how much you know about either of us, but there are reasons Sauron might want us. Neither of those reasons came to pass in the Barrows.”

The Elf Lord nodded, relief washing over all of his features. “Are you certain?”

“I mean something is probably bound to happen because of it, but at least that specific threat was not realized.”

Just then a bird flew into the office. It panted real briefly and began to talk: “Lord Círdan, hail! I bring ill news from Lord Elrond.”

The elf quickly gathered the bird into his hands, and gently placed it on a pillow on his desk. “Speak. You are amongst friends.”

The elf and two humans gathered around the songbird. “Lord Elrond sends you this: one of the nine has been spotted approaching the gap of Rohan. He estimates that it will be well into Tharbad by the time I reach you. He wishes to convene a council; the future he has spoken to you about is no more. He urges all to quickly convene so that we can plot a new future to save Middle Earth.”

Kylie put her hands in her head. This was the day she had been fearing more than anything else. A day when, it didn’t matter if Sauron caught her or not. A day when the world had to change.

A day when the future was no longer set in stone.

Círdan responded quickly. “I thank you, my little friend. Please spend as much time here as you wish; you must be weary from your travels.” As the bird flew away, he turned to the humans. “As must you. I will have someone show you to the guest quarters.”

Kylie shook her head, standing up at last. Her pain didn’t matter. The last year didn’t matter. There was only one thing that mattered now. The ring.

“Lord Círdan respectfully, we cannot stay.”

“Kylie?” Aragorn asked. She just looked at him. A simple look. He closed his mouth and nodded.

“There is a very important piece to this puzzle.”

“What sort of piece?” asked the elf quietly.

Kylie shook her head. “One only I know about, and one that the fewer people know the better. How quickly can we get to the Shire from here?”

“I can lend you some horses which would shorten the journey by a few weeks.”

Kylie nodded, taking in a deep breath. “Then we have no time to lose.”