Chapter Eighteen

Awakenings

All Lori saw before the cockpit window shattered in front of her was a dark, long shape coming towards her.

She tried to prepare for it in the split second she was given, bracing for it while at the same time resolved to keep her hands locked on the controls no matter what happened. And still when it hit, her efforts were meaningless. If she had been in her plane, she would have been wearing a helmet to protect her from the hail of glass that resulted from the shattering window. Fighting every natural instinct to shield her eyes, Lori could only turn her head away from the spray of glass and clamped her eyes shut, praying that would be enough.

When it assault of tiny glass fragments came, it pelted her skin as expected. Some of the tiny pieces bounced off her but others did not. Her face burned from multiple cuts but Lori ignored them, struggling to maintain her focus even thought everything around her was in disarray. She could feel the chopper banking sharply, tilting to the side at a 45 degree angle. Amidst the sound of cracking glass, she heard the rush of air that swept through the shattered cockpit window and the distant whump whump whump of helicopter rotors.

And of course, the frightened cries of her passengers.

It was for them she fell back on fifteen years of training, determined not to let them down as she panted hard, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she regained her equilibrium and brought her wounded bird under control. She was vaguely aware of something stinging her inner thigh but she ignored, it blinking away any fragments of to risk opening her eyes. White light burned her retinas when she opened them and spots appeared in them.

They were still in the air, she thought off-handily. She glanced at the gyro to see the position of her craft in the artificial horizon and immediately compensated, shifting them from their unsteady flight path. Lori was vaguely aware of something stinging in her upper thigh but she ignored it. All she cared about was ensuring she was in control of the craft. They were under attack and the peaks of the Carpathians were jagged teeth ready to snatch out of the air like a predator in waiting. Lori was determined to see to it that their descent was entirely of her choosing.

She searched the air for their assailant when she realised that someone was speaking to her. Through all this she'd completely forgotten she had a co-pilot. Well sort of.

“Jet! Are you okay?” Erik demanded as he climbed back into the co-pilot's seat. He’d started calling her Jet Girl after learning she was a fan of the comic book series Tank Girl which he remembered from his youth as well.

Erik had been thrown out of his seat when the attack had come and had fortunately escaped the spray of glass that came from the shattered cockpit window. She'd taken the full brunt of it and Erik looked at her, felt his stomach lurch. There were cuts all over her lovely face and though she hadn't noticed it yet or was refusing to, there was a large piece of imbedded in her thigh and the expanding pool of red on her overalls told him how bad it was.

"Make yourself useful Aussie, get that glass off me!" She snapped, ignoring the burning sensation on her face as she felt his hands dusting the glass off the rest of her body. Lori didn't look at him, keeping her eyes focus on the levelling horizon ahead of her, "Whatever hit us is going to be coming back!"

That thought made Erik glance outside but he could not see anything. The Nazgul that had been flanking them had pulled back as if giving way for something, much, much worse. Cold fear struck his heart at what that might be.

He didn't have time to ponder that question for long because as Lori jerked hard on the throttle, causing the chopper to pull up above a particularly tall ridge of mountain, he saw the sky around them darken. An ominous shadow fell over the craft as the sound of great wings beating eclipsed the whumping of the helicopter rotors.

After the destruction of her entire squadron over Cornwall, that sound was branded on her mind and she found herself reaching the only conclusion that would see them survive the next few hours.

“We’ve got to land! We'll almost where we need to be and we won't stay in the air much longer with that thing after us!" She explained herself briefly, not waiting for any agreement. The others might know all there was to know about this insanity but in the air, Lori considered herself the authority and to her, they were all civilians, she needed to get them to the ground in one piece.

Eric was about to respond when he saw a long, saurian neck lower in front of them. The monstrous head of a dragon glared at them. If it wasn't so terrifying, Eric might have noticed how magnificent it looked. The little boy in him was filled with a sense of wonder even through his utter terror. Golden eyes glared back at them and the puff of dark smoke escaping its nostrils gave them both warning of what was coming next.

“Hold on!” Lori screamed behind her, hoping to give her passengers enough time to secure themselves while she tried to escape the monster about to reduce them to a cinder.

Lori banked just as the ball of fire escaped the dragon's mouth. A column of white hot flame surged through the air and caught the side of the chopper instead of the front. With the cockpit window broken, Lori had no doubts that had they been in the path of the blast, she and Erik would be dead. The chopper veered away from the dragon, skimming the top of the mountain ridge, causing the tall trees of primal beech to sway as it surged past. As expected, the dragon gave chase and Lori knew the only way to keep ahead of it was to bring the chopper closer to the mountains.

Erik found himself gripping the seat as he saw the chopper began to drop even lower, until the verdant walls of the mountains were only beneath them but in some instances, flanking them. Beneath them, trees parted beneath the rush of chopper blades and high velocity winds. He could smell the dragons breathe in pursuit and see the forest alight where it had missed them. Despite her injury, Lori was riding the throttle expertly, weaving this way and that as she navigating the hilly terrain, staying just aloft enough to avoid collision but low enough to ensure even the dragon had difficulty maintaining its pursuit.

The chopper lifted and dropped as it flew over green hills, forest of primal beech trees and finally through the narrowing crevasse that had been gouged through the mountain through centuries of erosion. A large beech had fallen across the gap, its thickness wide enough to play the part of a natural bridge. Lori dropped the chopper beneath it, somehow managing to pass without causing the rotor blades to meet wood. The dragon had no such hesitation and slammed into it with the full force of its body, shattering the trunk into a thousand splinters and tearing each end from the either side of the gap.

As the crevasse continued to narrow, Lori banked hard once more, veering the chopper to its side so sharply that it was flying at a 90 degree angle. As they pushed through the proverbial eye of the needle, the dragon's formidable bulk was not enough to penetrate the space and it became violently lodged in between the two walls on either side of its body. The creature let out a bellow of outrage at the indignity of the situation, setting alight the trees and vegetation as it struggled to break free. However, the mountain held it in place and for the moment at least, Anacalgon was halted.

"We have to land," Lori said as she aimed the chopper towards the tower. "We don't have much time. I can get us close but not all the way.” Indeed, beyond the hills the land had been scraped clean of all vegetation. The plains of rolling green had become dirt as if Saeran had wanted nothing living surrounding his dark home. “It’s open ground all the way there. We'll never make it," she met his eyes briefly before facing front again. "The dragon will get us before we reach it."

"Do it Jet Girl," Erik replied, unconcerned that he was making the decision for the entire group. He didn't care. He was conscious of the blood he could see spreading across the lower half of her flight suit.

Lori didn't wait for his approval because she was already searching for a landing site. The terrain ahead was green, filled with tall trees and thick shrubs. The mountain range offered what concealment it could provide but beyond it, there was only flat ground that gave no shelter to anyone approaching the tower. Lori knew what was stake and she was a soldier, she was prepared to die if it meant getting Fred to Saeran.

Somehow getting Fred to him seemed to be the only thing that mattered now.

Clearing the range, it was only when she reached the area where scorched ground met the still living mountain did she bring down the chopper. On the flattened ground, she could see the devastated forest that had been there before Saeran had unearthed his dark tower from the earth. The terrain surrounding it looked as if it had been bathed with fire or devastated by something just as terrible. Charred tree stumps pointed at the sky like talons clawing at the air while the ground was almost black like ash.

"Head for the woods," she ordered after she had set down the craft amidst a cloud of dark, choking dust. "That will give you some cover before that thing comes back."

The screech of the dragon tore through the cloud of dusk settling over the helicopter.

"Head for the woods!" Erik barked at the others, repeating Lori’s demand, however, he hadn’t forgotten what shape she was in. "Aaron get over here!"

The urgency in his voice made Aaron run to the cockpit as the others were following Lori’s direction and disembarking. He’d spent the violent journey in the rear, staying close to Bryan to ensure the MI6 man's injuries didn't get worse from all the turbulence. Rushing past Miranda and Frank who were attending to their children, he caught sight of Legolas bounding out of the chopper, already searching for the best place to take cover before the dragon returned. Entering the cockpit, he only had to take one look at Lori to know why Erik had called him.

Erik was already pulling off his belt when Aaron appeared, having some idea of what to do but grateful that there was a qualified doctor to assess the situation in case he was wrong. Erik had barely much to say to the woman since her arrival among them but she had fallen into this this insanity head first and had still stood them and helped them get this far. When she had told him to get the others out and leave, Erik realised she had intended to be left behind and after what had happened to Jason, it was something he couldn’t stomach for one moment.

"I think her femoral's nicked," he declared, gesturing to the blood.

"You don't have time for this," Lori exclaimed exasperated, hearing the words but refusing to register them because at this moment it was unimportant. Erik and Aaron needed to leave before the dragon came and she was aware that in her condition, she’d only slow them down. "You have to get Fred to that Lord Voldermort up there,” she glanced at the tower. “Don't waste time with me...."

"Yeah because we’re just going to leave you behind,” Aaron snorted, refusing to entertain the notion in the slightest. “What is it with the women in this group?” He asked, not expecting an answer. “Help me get her out of this seat. I'll tie a tourniquet on her leg and that ought to hold until we get some cover."

"Right,” Erik said grateful that Aaron was taking charge of the situation and immediately slid his arms beneath Lori and lifted her up from the seat. It was only when he picked her up did he realise she was sitting in her own blood. His stomach hollowed at the sight of it slick against the vinyl when he held her up.

Aaron took the belt Erik had volunteered and immediately tied a tourniquet around her thigh, hoping that would do for the moment. He judged that while serious, it wasn't the deeper femoral artery that had been damaged but rather the superficial femoral. If it had been the latter, she would have bled out in minutes. At least now they had a chance of saving her.

Beyond the walls of the chopper, the dragon's bellow grew louder.

"This macho bullshit is going to you both killed!" Lori sputtered as Erik hoisted her up and over his shoulder. “Hey!!!” She cried out, unaccustomed to such undignified handling. She was a Captain for Christ sake!

"Jet! Do me a favour and bloody shut up!" Erik snapped as he and Aaron hastily retreated out of the cabin. "We are not leaving you!"

They emerged from the craft just as they saw the dragon appearing over the top of the mountain they had just crossed. The size of it almost blocked out the sun and when its wings flapped, Erik swore he could feel the air from its beating wings rushing over his face. It was searching for them, its saurian neck swaying side to side, the eyes on its massive head scanning the ground in search of its prey. It would be only a matter of seconds before it spotted them, that much Erik had no doubt.

"This way!" Legolas shouted, beckoning from behind the tree line covering the mountain’s edge. The archer was already poised with his mithril tipped arrows to shoot them at the dragon, for all the good it would do.

Erik and Aaron hurried along the charred ground, crunching scorched and disintegrating vegetation under foot as they closed in on the forest. Unfortunately Legolas’ cries had not only drawn their attention but also that of the dragon searching the scourged landscape for them. Ancalagon manoeuvred its massive bulk in mid-air and head straight for them.

Visitors to Gorgoroth, let me welcome you with a kiss.

Its voice was a low reptilian hiss and that reverberated through them, like their spines were its own tuning forks to use. Both men felt eerily chilled to the bone at the malevolence in its voice, concealing its evil intent beneath the thin veneer of civilised speech. It spoke just once before its jaws widened and a jet of fire exploded from the wide mouth full of serrated teeth.

They reached the trees just ahead of the fireball and as they disappeared into the ancient forest of primal beech trees, everything behind them burst into flames. The old trees screaming their agony in an incendiary cry of dying.

“This way! This way!” Legolas cried out, his arm waving them onward, his eyes widening in horror at the wanton destruction behind them.

Carrying Lori over his shoulder, Erik could feel the prickling heat against his back as he and Aaron followed Legolas deeper into woods. The woods ahead of them remained untouched for the moment but there was no telling for how long that would be. It was becoming difficult to breathe with the load he was carrying because the smoke was thickening and burnt embers being carried forward in the wind. Erik wondered how determined the dragon was going to be in hunting them down or how much destruction it was prepared to do to accomplish it.

The sudden crack of lightning made Erik glance upwards and he realised that thick clouds closing in around them wasn't just smoke. The blue sky was quickly vanishing under thick cumulous clouds that were cackling with spidery tendrils of electricity. With a sudden burst of realising, Erik realised those were thunder clouds up there. Rain. Was it too much to hope for rain?

Ignoring the possibility for now, Erik returned his attention to Legolas who had found a path through the trees up the side of the mountain. His legs were straining against the steep ascent but adrenaline was going a long way to helping him keep up. The elf stopped running as he came through a thick patch of shrubs and was hacking away with his sword to clear away the branches that concealed an opening into the mountain side.

Overhead, the claps of thunder had become more frequent, until it was difficult to imagine where one ended and another began. The charge of electricity through the air was apparent by the flashes of lightning overhead and by the time Legolas had parted enough of the branches for he and Lori to pass through, rain had started to splatter against the land in heavy, pregnant drops. In a matter of seconds, they were standing in pounding rain that even masked the dragon's beating winds.

"It’s still coming!" Lori warned, able to see it from her undignified position over his shoulder. The sky was grey and air was filled with the steam from rapidly extinguished flames but she could see the silhouette of the beast in the air, continuing its search. It shook its head, trying to combat the water that was making it difficult to maintain the flame in its nostrils.

"Quickly," Legolas ushered them in, allowing Erik and Aaron to enter the cave.

“Watch your head!” He warned Lori and hurried in, ignoring her consternation as the passed the threshold and started down the cramped passage that lead downwards. Thank Christ for that, he thought softly.

The passage was dark but fortunately not pitches black as Erik could see light radiating further along the tunnel as he made his way down, his boots crunching against the gravelly floor. While the corridor was narrow, it was still high enough that Lori wasn't in danger of hitting her head against the ceiling wall as they moved down its length. The air was dank and musty but still preferable from the choking smoke that had resulted from the dragon’s wanton burning of the woods above. He hoped the rain had snuffed out the rain before the whole forest was razed.

"We've been down here before haven't we?" Aaron spoke as they approached the light in the distance and realised that it emptied into a larger cavern. Voices he recognised as belonging to Miranda and Frank could be heard echoing from it.

"Yes," Legolas nodded as he glanced over his shoulder and listened with his keen elven hearing for any indications of pursuit. He could hear the distant sound of teeming rain but the dragon was now silent. However, he was not about to discount the possibility that Sauron might have conjured up a new enemy to menace them. "These are the caves where we found his uruks."

"I'm impressed you remembered how to get down here,” Aaron complimented, remembering all too well their first encounter with David Saeran and how closed he had come to destroying the world once before.

“I did not remember,” Legolas admitted as they reached the cavern where the others were waiting. The light was coming from a flashlight Miranda was holding that was powerful enough to illuminate the immediate area. “It was Fred that led us here.”

++++++++++++++++++++

The former Bara-dur had been no stranger to the screams of the tortured. In fact, Bara-dur never seemed quite right unless there was someone in residence who was suffering in some fashion. The dark tower had been built as a monument to torment by its master, a symbol of evil to all fell creatures throughout the entirety of Middle Earth. It stood as a dark reflection of Lothlorien, that beacon of light to the armies of men and elves while Bara-dur belonged not only to Sauron but the disenfranchised races of Arda who shunned the happy civilisation of the Valars’ select chosen.

The new tower would be no different. It would be the seat of Sauron’s power, standing tall and proud as the rest of the world burned. Even now, the Uruks that had slept for years in the caves beneath this land had emerged from their byres, preparing the tower for the arrival of the army presently marching across Europe bound for this land. The hour was growing close when all of their master’s plans would come to fruition and that was much to do in the aftermath.

Still during their labour, the screams that echoed from the most guarded room in the tower unsettled them despite their hardened natures because it was a new kind of agony. These were not the screams were the work of any torturer but cries that heralded the arrival of new life in the world. Uruks found the concept alien; that pain could usher in hope when all their experiences with the word had a contrary effect.

“Do we leave her to split like a gourd?” Morgul questioned his master as they approached the door to the chamber that was the source of the cries. “Why can we not simply cut her open and take the whelp?”

Saeran gave Morgul a withering glare, “I want both of them Morgul. The child is the instrument of my vengeance upon his father and the way to ensure that I will never have anything but absolute obedience from the mother. After all these years, I have learned that heroes are most often broken by the ones they love.”

Morgul shrugged, still not seeing the need to for the female’s continued existence. He knew that while his master was motivated by vengeance to possess the woman of his enemy, the Witch-King was also aware that there was more to it than that. Perhaps it had been too long since he had worn human skin that he'd forgotten how easy it was to become lost in its trappings. For Sauron, his corporeal shell had been lost for even longer and Morgul supposed his master could be forgiven for indulging in its excesses, no matter how distasteful it was.

"If that is the case," Morgul spoke as another wail was heard through the door, "should she be left to her own devices in birthing the child?" His hooded head tilted towards room and added, "It does not sound as if things are progressing well in there."

"Finding a midwife right now is rather problematic," Saeran retorted with a frown, conceding the point but supposing that was little to be down about it now, "but I am certain that she will manage."

Morgul was doubtful but he did not wish to waste any more time on the whole business so he tactfully changed the subject shifting instead to a matter he did deem important.

"What of Isildur's heir? He and his companions were driven to the ground by Anacalgon but they have sought refuge in the woods and with the storm, he cannot raise flame to find them. They will no doubt be coming here."

"Yes," Saeran agreed with that assertion, his expression pensive as he fell silent.

For the first time Morgul sighted something in his master's face that seemed out of place. Was it concern?

"My lord?" He asked cautiously. "You appear troubled."

"Troubled?" Saeran shot him another harsh glare, stiffening at the suggestion. "I am not troubled," he replied hotly and then added a moment later. "But I did not see them approach. I can see many things now but I cannot see them and I don't know why."

It was true. Since he had set these events into motion, there had been things within his ability to see. The power he had stolen from Melkor had nearly made him a god and he had been able to see events unfolding in Arda enough to manipulate fear and send the humans into a frenzy. He knew that Aaron Stone and his companions would be coming because that was a deduction steeped in logic, not because he had any clairvoyance to see it. There was something preventing his formidable prescience from seeing the wretched child who housed the soul of Frodo Baggins and once again the nagging sensation that he had missed something, returned.

"The Nazgul will hunt them down," Morgul assured, hiding his own concern over his master's blindness.

"It does not matter," Saeran said dismissively, refusing to dwell on what he could not change. "They will come to us. Aaron Stone will come for his wife while Bryan Miller will demand his vengeance for the death of his lover. Do not worry Morgul; you will have your dance with the shield maiden yet."

"The shield bitch!" Morgul spat hatefully. "Before she dies, she will know the taste of her children's flesh. I will feed them to her before she dies."

"To each his own," Saeran retorted as he reached for the door knob and turned it, "in the meantime, should they make it to the tower, see to it they are brought to me."

"Yes my lord," Morgul replied and retreated, grateful to be spared the ordeal of entering the room.

Saeran opened the door and stepped into the chamber. Like the exterior of the tower, the walls and floor were carved out of obsidian. There was only one window and it was little more than a hole carved out of the rock. Wind was blowing rain into the room, not that its lone occupant noticed. She was lying on the only thing that served as furniture in the room, a stone slab in the centre of the floor. Apart from that, all was bare. Eve McCaughey was lying against the hard surface, having assumed the birthing position. Drenched in sweat, her hair hung off her scalp in wet tendrils, her face red and flushed while her eyes were moist with tears.

"Hello Eve," he said casually. "How do you fare?"

Eve hadn't noticed his arrival but once she did, she turned her hatred on the monster who was determined to possess her like she was some damned prize. The contractions had started to become shorter and the pain more acute. Fear of doing this alone had driven her to the edge of reason and she didn't care what words she flung at her tormentor. She was outraged at her situation, that she had been denied the time to prepare for this birth or the turning of the best day of her life into a nightmare she and her child may never escape.

"Get out!" She snarled at him.

"Now, now, don't be testy," he said with amusement as he leaned against the wall and watched her. "I apologise for the lack of amenities but I can get you anything you need, you only need to ask." There was no kindness in his tone, just affirmation that she was completely beholden to his good graces. He wanted her to understand the reality of her captivity. "When this is all done, we can go to Ikea, get some baby furniture."

"Get out!" She screamed at him again refusing to listen. Listening to him talk as if he was the baby's father. Like Aaron. Thinking that made the fury well up inside her like a tidal wave. It threatened to crumble her resolve and the thought of that felt like bile in her throat. "I will deliver MY baby! I don't need anything from you!"

And she wouldn't, Eve told herself defiantly. No matter how much it hurt, she'd bring her son into the world. At least he couldn't take that from her.

********

"You have to keep moving," Lori insisted for not the first time as she was propped up against the wall of the cavern they had moved into after regrouping. Aaron had gone to work on her leg soon as Erik had set her down, cutting away the soaked fabric of her flight suit so he could assess the extent of the injury. However, Lori was a pragmatist and the time expended on treating her was a delay they couldn’t afford. She was a liability to them and she knew it. "You can't let me slow you down. You have to stop that son of a bitch before he sends the planet up in smoke."

She directed her last comment at Bryan and added, "Tell them."

Bryan was standing now, sufficiently recovered from his own injuries to be able to lead their party after a fashion. At Lori’s pointed demand, he shifted uncomfortably, wanting to look away from her intense gaze but unable to. He hated being put on the spot but only because he knew she was right. Nazgul would be reporting to Saeran that they were here, if it was not already done, and the dark lord would be hunting them. They had to get moving again.

Lori understood the stakes and so did Bryan. As much as he wanted vengeance for Tory’s murder, he had to remember that the world hung in the balance and everyone was expendable. Even him. Catching a glimpse of Miranda’s expression, Bryan saw that she knew Lori was right and so it was left to him to make the decision, he knew the others would be unable to.

“Let the doc fix you up luv, we can talk about this later," he said quietly evading the issue for the moment.

“There’s no later!” Lori exclaimed, her expression pained. She understood what needed to be done but she was scared too. She wanted them to do what was necessary before her nerve failed her. "He can fix me up but he won't be able to make me walk," Lori turned her gaze to Aaron and asked the question to get the answer the others needed to hear. "Will you?"

“You need a hospital,” Aaron said unable to meet her gaze. Until now, he had made no comment as Lori parlayed with Bryan because he hated himself for agreeing with patient. He knew better than anyone how hurt she was. He'd done his best to seal the damaged artery with adhesives but what she needed was stitches. At the very least, she could lose the leg and at worse, her life.

“You need a hospital where you can get vascular surgery. Adhesives won't hold if you move the leg. Any strenuous exertion and you could tear open the adhesive seal causing more damage,” He explained and then added finally, “You could lose the leg.”

Lori blinked away her horror at the thought of losing a limb. If she survived, her career as a pilot would almost certainly be over. Frankly she’d take death over that. However for now, Aaron’s explanation settled the matter. “That's it then," she said firmly, resolved raising her chin when she looked at the faces staring down at her. She could see their dilemma and was touched by their concern for her but they couldn’t linger here much longer. "You need to go, all of you."

"Bullshit," Erik found his voice, refusing to lose another member of their party. After Jason, it was just too much. “I can carry her, I’ve done it this far. I can get her the rest of the way."

"And then what?" Bryan asked finally realising they had to make a decision. “We’re going into hell mate. Saeran almost certainly knows we're here. He'll have a welcome party waiting for us."

"So what? You’re in no better shape to take him on either,” Erik countered. "A while ago we were about to read you the last bloody rites. How come you get to come with us and she doesn't?"

"Because I can still fight," Bryan replied, his calm voice was a sharp contrast to Erik's temper. "She can't."

"We're not leaving her!" Erik exploded making the children jump. Jason’s death had hit him hard and he was still reeling from the loss. His anger was keeping his anguish at bay but now, the idea of losing yet another person threatened to make that grief spill out again. Erik didn’t know why it went so against the grain to leave this woman behind. He hardly knew her. However, through the nightmare of the past few days, he’d counted her as a member of their strange family and he couldn’t bear to lose her.

"Then I'll stay," Frank spoke.

“What?” Miranda’s reaction was immediate and horrified. “No,” she said shaking her head as everyone turn to the archaeologist. “No, you’re not staying, you need to come with us, with your children!”

Frank turned to his wife and caught her face in his hands, making her look at him so she’d understand what he was about to say was not to be taken lightly. "Miranda, listen to me," he spoke earnestly. "You know as well as I do that we can't take Pip and Sammy in there with us. Bryan's right, Saeran will be waiting for all of us. You need to be on your game. You need to do what you're best at and you can't do that if you're worrying about us. You need to let us go."

"No, I can't..." she stared at him frantically. “I won’t leave you!”

“You have to leave us Miranda,” Frank repeated himself. “I’ll stay here with Lori and the boys, out of the way so that you can stop that bastard. I promise you, we’ll be here when you’re done.”

Miranda was torn because she was right. She’d been determined to keep the boys with her because of what had happened to Jason. However, this wasn’t simply travelling across Europe any more, this was entering the lion’s den where she’d need to throw down with Nazgul and Uruks. Frank was right, he had to be on her game. “But…” she started to say when suddenly, she felt a small hand enclosing hers.

Looking down, Miranda saw that Fred was staring up at her.

"It will be alright," Fred said looking at her with those dark eyes. "I promise."

There was something in her eyes that gave Miranda comfort. Something that made what Frank was telling her easier to bear. “Thank you,” she whispered, squeezing the little girl’s hand before turning to Frank again.

"See," Frank replied, smiling gratefully at the girl before speaking. "We'll be waiting right here, out of trouble while you got and try and Bryan in one piece."

As the decision was made, Erik drifted away from the group. Sucking in his breath and trying to stabilise the waring emotions inside of him, Erik suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Legolas was standing next to him, using that elven stealth of his to approach Erik without notice. The elf's expression was one of quiet understanding and Erik wondered how he did it, to go through the centuries losing the frail mortals he called friends. Erik couldn't imagine anything worse.

Legolas had allowed the others to debate on what was to be done, adding no counsel to the proceedings because it was unnecessary. The girl Lori, who bore the face of Lothiriel of Dol Amroth, had shown her courage in making the sacrifice she knew had to be done. He admired her for that and wondered if Erik's refusal to leave her was due to their Middle Earth relationship. After all, Lothiriel had been Eomer's Queen.

"A wizard once told me that sometimes the right path to follow is not always the same as the path of our friends,” Legolas said gently, understanding Erik’s anxiety even if the man himself didn’t. “Trust the child,'' he said throwing a glance at Fred, "I believe that is a greater purpose to what she asks of us that will reveal itself to us in time."

“I do," Erik admitted, appreciating the elf’s effort and forcing himself to take the words to heart even if everything inside of him was revolting against the suggestion of their company parting ways. Nevertheless, Fred had proved to be more than the seven year old child she'd been since leaving Valinor and her words were nothing to take lightly. "Thank you," he said nodding at Legolas before he walked to Lori who was still being treated by Aaron.

“How you be Jet?" He said dropping to the ground so he could look her in her eye.

"Like crap Aussie," she said faintly. She was getting tired and wanted to sleep. Her limbs were getting heavy and she wondered if it was shock.

"Yeah you look it," he smiled and brushed a strand of unruly dark hair out of her face. Aaron had cleaned the cuts she'd gotten when the cockpit window had shattered over her face and Erik was glad to see that they were superficial. "Look, we'll come back for you,” he said intently. “We’re all getting out of here.”

Lori's brow furrowed at the intensity of that belief in his eyes when she held his gaze after the statement. The surprise of it had jolted her out of her fugue she told herself that his insistence was due to the loss of his best friend but there was something in his eyes she couldn’t define. Something she wished they were in a different time and place to explore. Still, she gave him a usual trademark smirk, "You better, I've gotten used to you carrying me around like Prince Charming.”

Erik laughed, “I reckon I’ve never been called that.” Man whore, two timing bastard...yeah but never Prince Charming.

“I’ll bet,” she countered, “you got player written all over you.” She said before wincing when Aaron finished the dressing around her leg.

“Sorry,” the doctor apologised sheepishly and fell silent once more allowing the two their moment and hated that this might all there was of it for them.

“That obvious huh?” Erik chuckled, denying nothing.

“Only because you’re awful pretty,” she sighed and then closed her eyes before letting her head rest against the wall behind her. “Don't be long Aussie.”

On impulse, he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, a surge of new emotion rising up in his chest. "Will do Jet.”

********

It was quite something for a dark lord to admit that after millennia of existence, he was faced with something he’d never experienced before.

When she’d told him to leave, he’d remained purely out of spite. To show her that she could no more order him about than she could control what was to become of her. However, as he watched the drama play itself out, he had to confess a certain curiosity about the whole thing. He could not conceive why mortals willingly endured the process of giving birth, especially when it seemed like such a painful, drawn out affair. Of course, it probably had to do with capturing the immortality that elves so blatantly flouted that was denied them.

Still, he had to admire her stamina. She was clearly exhausted, clinging to what remained of her strength out of sheer desperation to ensure the arrival of her child into the world. Despite all the threats he had made, despite the callous revelations of his plans to use the infant as a bargaining chip, she was still determined to deliver him. Saeran honestly did not understand this imperative that drove mortals to such extremes when there was so little hope.

Eve tried to ignore his presence. She focussed on what she had to do, tried to draw on her training as a cop with first aid training and everything she’d read about in books or heard discussed by friends and colleagues with children. She was aware of how unprepared she was for any of this. She should had months to plan for this day, not a matter of days and now the baby was coming and all she could do was cope the best way she knew hard.

She knew the contractions were coming more rapidly and the compulsion to push was getting stronger and stronger. She had tried to control the urge to push, to regulate her breathing and maintain some kind of slow steady pace. However, the need was now overwhelming. If there had been a doctor present, he would have told her how dilated she was so she could be sure to imperative to push would not damage the baby if she wasn’t ready. Instead, there was no one except the bastard who had robbed her of a full-term pregnancy and she’d die before asking him for anything.

Saeran was continuing his observation when something new happened.

At first, he thought that the Nazgul was approaching the chamber or Eve's frantic mental state sending stray thoughts in his direction but he soon realise it was neither of these. Something of pure instinct and emotion was reaching out to him, something that was little more than a jumble of scattered sensations, part fear and part confusion. A fresh cry of pain from Eve send a jolt of raw emotion through him and suddenly, it occurred to him what was happening.

With her body bent, her arms propping her up and legs spread open the way she would have been if she were sitting in stirrups in a delivery room, Saeran saw Eve’s body taut with concentration as she strained forward. She’s pushing, he thought employing the vernacular. Unaware that he was doing it, he drifted towards the foot of the slab, inexplicably drawn to this curious mix of emotions.

"I can hear him," Saeran announced, his voice low and filled with wonder.

Eve froze for a moment and shot him a glare of hatred. He’d moved to the foot of the slab where he could see all of her. The thought of being so exposed made her felt her cheeks burn with humiliation. "Why can't you leave me alone?” She demanded through clenched teeth, despair oozing from each word. “You shouldn't be here!” Her voice broke and a strangled sob escaped her.

“You need help,” he stated, his voice kinder even though he was told himself he was unmoved by her anguish. "Your son is confused and frightened. I think he’s ready to be born."

Hearing him speak about the baby made her want to weep again. She was so exhausted and felt the pain so much. It was a struggle to keep going, especially what she knew awaited her and her baby when it was done. Saeran standing there, an interloper in this most precious moment made her want to scream, especially since she knew he was right. She had no comparison as to whether or not this was a difficult birth but the last ten had been agonizing. Was the pain supposed to be this bad? She didn’t know but she was afraid that it was because something wasn’t right.

Blinking away frustrated tears, Eve finally forced herself to face him Swallowing down the bitterness from what she had to do next, she met his gaze and said softly, “I…I…need to know if I’m fully dilated. I need you to see and I need you to pull him out when his shoulders come through.” Her voice was little more than a ragged breath and she did bother to hide her hatred of him as she made the request but if she had to concede his presence here, then the least he could do was make himself useful.

He was almost amused when he asked, pushing himself off the wall to approach the foot of the slab so that he could do as he was asked. Her knees were bent and splayed open, the skirt of her dress bunched around hips. What he saw did not make him flinch because blood and flesh exposed was nothing new to him. Someone who was expert as ruining the flesh was incapable of being squeamish. And while it was said, he could have conjured up minions to play the role of midwife more efficiently than him, Saeran was doing this because she had asked. After all, if he intended to keep her, their relationship would be far more palatable if she learned to trust him.

“Alright,” he answered looking at her flushed, red face, “I am hardly the expert but I think that you are ready.”

Eve released a breath that was part exhaustion and part relief. Grateful that she could finally submit to the imperative to push, she remembered the little first aid training she had on the subject and began pushing in earnest, no longer holding her breath. As she pushed, she could feel the intense pressure in her lower body, actually feel her son slipping through her. There was a new pain now, stinging and it made her cry out again, despite her attempts not too. Because Saeran was here now, pride was forcing her to hide her vulnerability as much as she could.

The dark lord watched in hidden wonder as she pushed hard, pain escaping her gritted teeth with each attempt. He could see each attempt sapping her strength and yet like something Promethean, it was restored with each new breath. Through the blood and fluid of her opening womb, he saw something started to appear, slowly but surely. The frightened and vulnerable soul making its way into the world was reaching out, tiny tendrils of need seeking to touch the first thing within reach. Once again, the pure simple innocence of it, touched his mind and it felt…Saeran didn’t know how to describe it.

“I see him,” he announced, realising what he’d been witnessing was the crown of the child's head making an appearance.

Eve’s breathing shortened and she continued to push, driven by forces older than she to reach completion of this most fulfilling act of her person. She pushed again, every little inch her son made towards his birth was a little victory. She did not think about the fact her son's first contact with another person would be a dark lord determined to use him as an instrument of vengeance and her ultimate enslavement. Those were worries for later, once he had arrived into the world.

As she grunted and heaved, Saeran saw the head being pushed out and then the neck. The baby was covered in blood and slick fluid and he leaned forward as he saw small shoulders appearing. Holding on firmly and he marvelled at what a struggle this was, he who had just built the tower in which they were presently occupying. It took as much concentration to hold firm without damaging the tender skin as anything he had done since he’d emerged from his prison in Valinor.

The baby entered the world with eyes wide open.

It was a little thing, all wet with blood and slick mucus, staring at Saeran as the lord of Mordor severed the umbilical cord by pinching it between its fingers and searing the flesh away. Holding the infant in his hands, Saeran knew immediately that the baby was cold and as it moved, shuddering as it took its first breath, the child let out of a plaintive wail.

“Is…is…he alright?” Eve demanded, still pushing, the urge to do so not quite subsiding though it wasn’t as intense as before.

“Yes,” Saeran replied and found his tone subdued, lacking its usual arrogance. The baby cried again, a short, sharp sound that seemed to pierce through his skull. Its small hands were shaking and a dozen sensations bombarded the dark lord at that moment as he looked into the tiny face. Fear. Cold. Confusion. The baby didn’t know how to articulate anything but Saeran understood everything it felt from the intense emotions it projected.

Swaddling the screaming baby in his coat, Saeran held the child and found it so very strange. He could feel something bubbling away inside of him, something he hadn’t ever experienced. Long ago, when Ea was new and he was young, his intentions had been so different. He’d wanted order and felt that he Valar was neglectful, tucked away in their ivory tower. He’d wanted to improve Arda and had struck allegiances to do that. Staring at this child, feeling its purity, reminded him of those days when the path he’d started on was so different from where he was now.

He ran a finger over the tiny cheek and was surprised by the velvet softness of the boy’s skin. At the contact, the child stared at him. The baby had ceased its whimpers and at Saeran’s touch, reached out. Saeran touched the tiny fingers only to have the baby’s small fist furl around one of his own. He held it for a moment, continue to stare at Saeran, blue eyes studying the face in front of him. The emotions that it generated in Saeran was so fierce, he practically ran to Eve and trust her baby at her.

Eve had stopped pushing, the process of delivery complete. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more to rest but first she wanted her baby. She saw Saeran holding her son and wanted to scream at him before reminded of the fact that it was best not to provoke the dark lord whilst he had her child. However, before she could ask Saeran for her son, he spoke first.

“Take him,” Saeran said visibly uncomfortable, “Take your son.”

Eve didn’t notice Saeran’s reaction, concerned only from taking her child. She sat up shakily and took the baby in her arms, shuddering with joy as she saw the perfect bundle that had come to her so much sooner than he should have. Looking at him, she stared to sob but they were not sobs of despair but unbridled joy. Whatever came after, she’d deal with later but for now, she held her son and loved him.

Saeran did not speak, he swept out of the room like an ill wind, slamming the door behind him.

********

In the caverns beneath the tower, approaching with her companions, Fred Bailey smiled.

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