Chapter Four

The Taking of Arda

The Lord of Mordor was returning home.

Across the icy sea, the grey ships sailed once more, heralded in the storm skies by the Urloki, blazing their heated breaths through the brittle winds of the Arctic sky. Their great wings flapping to compare with the strongest gales as they soared through the air for the first time in two hundred thousand years. As they flew towards Arda, the Urloki were filled with an euphoria they had not known since their first days beyond the pits of Angband. The winged serpents took the sky like birds that had been caged for so long and it was said that in some way, dark as it was, the flight was a celebration of freedom from the darkness beneath Mandos.

He was once known as Sauron, Lord of Mordor looked upon his airborne army and for a moment, shared their elation. They fretted above the grey ships, like worms at play and he knew that when the time came, his dragons would put aside their joy at being unleashed and wreak doom upon all men once again. The dragons had been promised the treasures of Arda, to horde in dark places beneath the Earth as dragons were apt to do. He stood on the bow of the ship, feeling the wind rushing through the hair of his human shell and felt for a moment, a kinship with the great beasts who were savoring their freedom.

The grey ships had swept speedily beyond Eldamar and were now making their way to open sea, a flotilla of ships flanked by fell beasts in the sea beside it and by the Urloki keeping a vigil overhead. A great wind propelled them forward, straining the sails to breaking point but if nothing else he, who was once Sauron, knew the skill of the Teleri. The sails would not tear and he would have these ships to Arda in days, not weeks. Already the Nine had sensed him and were journeying across the land to meet him. Perhaps not Nine but rather eight. That fool Morgul had gotten his arrogant self banished to the shadow realm and once Sauron was so inclined, he would restore his servant.

At the bow of the lead ship, Sauron saw the frothing waters flanking the ships, created by the watchers that were keeping pace with the false wind he had created. The watchers were not often seen as such vital creatures, swimming at speeds that would rival and best any contemporary leviathan. The beasts were accustomed to resting in one place, allowing their food to come to them. However, when compelled to it, they moved fast and when confined for as long as these had been, were eager to swim unfretted as care freely as the Urloki above them all.

Across the deck, the wargs had settled down on the deck, their heads hanging over the side like dogs in a speeding car, mouth open as the wind rushed at them, ears flapping and for a moment, he was almost amused at how much like their contemporary counterparts they were. Of course the similarities were few, wargs were almost five times the sizes of wolves. They were large enough to be ridden and once their teeth snapped around your neck. You were dead even if your mind was foolish enough to believe a struggle might save it.

The spiders were below deck, preferring the shadows than the light, even when it was shrouded by the dismal grey of the arctic circle. He felt no cold as he stood on the bow of his ship, watching destiny rushing to meet him after so long. He, who called once Sauron, now the human David Saeran, knew that the endgame was upon him. Whether or not he won or lost, it was time to play the final game, to unleash hell on earth and see whom was left standing. As Caesar said on the banks of the Rubicon;

Let the dice fly.

*******

The watcher sensed the movement.

It moved swiftly, swift enough to inspire the curiosity of the great beast swimming close to the surface of the ocean above. The watcher could sense hearts beating even from so far away, faints sounds that drew it to them like drops of blood in a vast ocean. The fell creature, mesmerized by the promise of so many living hearts, immediately broke from its brethren and began surging towards the depths, eager to find the source, even if it was accompanied by strange sounds the creature could not place.

********

There was something wrong.

At first Captain Isaiah Hill could not define exactly what it was. He sat in his chair on the bridge, reading morning reports, half listening to the chatter of his men at their stations, trying to decide whether or not he would make it home in time for he and his daughter Lori to have their yearly birthday lunch in three days. The maneuvers were running over schedule and though he knew it was through no fault of him or his crew, Isaiah was nonetheless disappointed that the delay would interrupt a ritual he and Lori had been practicing for the last ten years since her sixteenth birthday. His wife Diane had died shortly before that day had arrived and Lori, his only child had not felt much like celebrating. Thus every birthday since her sixteenth, they had shared dinner together and though her duties as a Navy pilot made it difficult to manage, the ritual had never been interrupted.

For the moment however, that annoyance did not bother him as much as the niggling sensation on the back of his spine that something was not quite right. Standing up from his chair, Isaiah walked across he bridge of the SSN-21 USS Connecticut, a ballistic missile submarine of the Seawolf Class, presently cruising the Arctic Sea at a speed of 30 knots, crew complement of 133 men, 12 of which were officers. He knew instinctively that everything was all right but his senses were tingling and they had nothing to do with radioactive spiders but rather twenty years of naval experience almost six of which as captain of this particular boat.

It came upon him suddenly, when he realized that amidst the chattering, the occasionally electronic beeps, that something was missing, a sound that was indicative of this time of year. Always at Lori’s birthday he noticed it because the months coincided but this year, there was only silence and that unnerve.

"Hennesy," Isaiah asked, "when was the last time you heard any biologics?"

The young com officer looked up at his captain quizzically, "I beg your pardon Sir?"

"You heard me," he repeated himself. "When was the last time you heard any biologics? You know, goddamn whales?"

"A couple of hours," the younger man replied nervously. "Its not something we keep records for Sir," he tried to explain.

"I know that lieutenant," Isaiah looked at him. "But this time of year is when they migrate to colder waters and last year we were thinking of lighting one of the candles just to shut them up. Don’t you find it odd that it’s suddenly so quiet out there?"

"Yes Sir," Hennessy replied but there was nothing he else he could add because unless there was some unusual activity taking place in the ocean, he was at a loss to his captain to explain what was the cause for the absence.

Isaiah returned to his command chair, making a mental note to speak to someone about this occurrence when he returned to shore, perhaps at one of the oceanography institutes at Norfolk. Maybe they could explain the mysteries of whale migration pattern and why this silence seemed to so unnerving to him.

Suddenly the console where Lt. Harris was presently stationed came alive with flashing lights and a low whine that indicated the hardware had detected something it did not like. Isaiah was on his feet in seconds, crossing the bridge floor along with his First Officer, Commander Purcelli.

"What is it Harris?" Isaiah demanded.

"Sir, we have something hot coming on sonar that's headed straight at us!" Harris exclaimed with a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

"I want a better definition than something Mister," Isaiah barked.

"I don't think it's a boat!" Harris' voice mirrored his confusion.

"Its moving at 30 knots," Purcelli leaned over his shoulder and studied the rate of the advancing bogey. "Of course it's a boat."

"I don't know Sir," Hennesy chimed in. "If it is a boat, it isn't making any of the noise that its supposed to be."

"What?" Isaiah looked over his shoulder at the young man. "Report lieutenant."

"It's just that there's nothing coming through on passive sonar, no propellers, no machinery, no talking nothing. Even if they were going on silent running, at thirty knots, we'd hear something but its all quiet out there."

"Any chance it's a biologic?" He questioned.

"It's moving at 30 knots Captain," Purcelli interjected. "Whales don't go that fast."

"Sir, its a five hundred feet and closing," Harris announced. "Its definitely on interception range."

The tension on the bridge was mounting but not because of the attack because they could not determine what it was that was coming at them. Isaiah thought quickly and decided to solve this once and for all. "Purcelli, initiate active sonar for me. One ping. Let's find out once and for all what we're dealing with here."

"Four hundred feet and closing," Harris declared once again.

As Purcelli went to his station to carry out the Captain's order, Isaiah turned to his helm officer. "Get out of its way and see if its follows us. I don't want to be getting jumpy just because some Russian might be on maneuvers the same as we. Unless there's a war going on and nobody told us," he added dryly.

"One ping activated," Purcelli responded and for the minutes that followed, everyone on the bridge waited for the reflecting pulse of sound to reach the hull of the enemy ship and be sent back to alert them what threat was approaching it. The returning acoustics would tell those on the bridge just what kind of boat they were dealing with, the echoing reverberation providing a telling signature. Seconds dragged into minutes and the signal returned hard, it echoed through the confines of the ship but provided no answers.

"Any idea what it is?" Isaiah demanded as the ping resonance alone would be able to help determine what kind of sub they were facing.

"We can't identify it," Harris said after a moment, "but we should get a visual soon."

"That's impossible," Purcelli shook its head. "Maybe its a new kind of sub, something that doesn't..." no that couldn't be, he thought. It was impossible unless the laws of physics had undergone some radical change. There were just some things that technology could not overcome and this was one of them.

"Get us out of its way," Isaiah said calmly, moving to the command chair now and taking a seat, a pose his men knew meant he was preparing for a fight.

"Two hundred feet," Harris's voice echoed through the bridge. "It's definitely closing on us."

"Plot countermeasures," Isaiah said coolly taking the first step.

"Aye Sir," came Purcelli's reply and the bridge became a hive of activity, with the sub's efforts to evade the enemy noticed by the subtle ripple in his coffee cup. Other than that, no one noticed that the Connecticut was playing tag with its unidentified enemy. "Helm, plot countermeasures."

"Countermeasures plotted now," " the helmsman nodded.

"Sir," Harris spoke up. "I think you better come look at this."

Isaiah exchanged a glance with his first officer and then moved to Harris' screen. What appeared on the sonar was not a boat by any definition of the word. It wasn't a whale either. As Captain and XO stared, both were gripped with the same thought. What the hell were they looking at?

"Is that a biologic?" Purcelli finally broke first. "It doesn't look like a whale."

"It's definitely not a whale," Harris returned. "I don't know what the hell that is. A squid perhaps?"

"That's a pretty fucking big calamari," Purcelli remarked dubiously.

"Doesn't matter," Isaiah replied taking the gloves off. "Flood torpedo tubes 1 and 2!"

"It maintaining pursuit Sir," Harris replied, "it's not letting us go. It's matching our speed."

"I guessed that," Isaiah said

Sitting back down in his chair, he heard Purcelli inform him a few seconds later that the torpedo tubes 1 and 2 were flooded and loaded.

"Release a mine and detonate by remote before it gets to the target," Isaiah ordered, "it its a biologic, see if this scares it off. I don't want to launch a Mk 4 at a whale unless I really have to."

"Aye Sir," Purcelli nodded in agreement. "Launch a mine."

Meanwhile Isaiah took the opportunity to address his men who must surely be wondering what was happening on the bridge with the sub suddenly switching from cruising to full speed ahead. "All hands, this is Captain Hill, we've encountered a whale with a hard on for this ship," he replied with a hint of amusement, though there was none in his voice. They didn't need to know they were being chased down by something the bridge couldn't identify, not yet anyway. "We're detonating a mine to try and drive it away without harm so please remain calm and we'll keep you informed of developments as they take place."

A slight shudder through the ship indicated the launch of the small mine from the Connecticut. "Mine's away." Purcelli announced to the captain.

"Wait until it's beyond the halfway point between us and the biologic and detonate. That will show we mean business." Isaiah replied.

"Aye Sir," Purcelli nodded.

A few more seconds passed and the explosion could be felt throughout the ship as the shock wave impacted against the sub, a low, dull sound that caused a slight shimmer through the metal but little else. The modern submarines were built to withstand greater strains against its hull but a mine was still a mine and Isaiah was tense. There was something about this he didn't like. Something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Is it gone?" He asked almost as soon as the shudder had died.

"No Sir," Harris responded barely a fraction of a second later. "It's increased its speed. Its fifty feet away."

"What the hell!" Isaiah stood up and looked at him in annoyance. It was too close to fire a torpedo now. "What's its speed?"

"Increasing to 35 knots," Harris looked at him as amazed as the rest of the bridge.

"Thirty five knots?" Isaiah couldn't hide his shock. "It's closing."

"Fire another mine at it!"

"But its too close..." Purcelli started to say but they didn't have any choice. The captain was correct. Whatever was following them had to be stopped now, before it reached them. With no idea of what the thing even was, they could not allow it to intercept the submarine. There were too many incidents in recent times of subs going down in these depths and almost all of them ended tragically with the loss of all hands. He was not going to have Lori face another birthday losing another parent. He couldn't do that to his little girl.

"Do it!" Isaiah barked.

"Release another mine," Purcelli ordered.

"All hands," Isaiah was shouting through the com system, "brace for mine detonation!" This one was going to be close and they would feel it. In fact they might more than just feel it. It could potentially damage the ship.

The blast sent powerful shock waves through the water and the submarines reeled from the concussive force. The sound resonated throughout the hull, ensuring that every man on board knew the peril they faced. The explosion was followed by another sound and this one was more unearthly, a dull roar that traveled through the water, caused Seamen Hennessy to pull away his headset as the noise penetrated the metal.

"What the hell was that?" Purcelli asked.

No sooner than the question was heard, something hard smashed against the hull with enough force to ensure that anything that wasn't bolted down went flying. Isaiah almost fell out of his chair and had to grip the armrests to keep from tumbling to the floor. Not so lucky were Purcelli and Harris who were thrown across the bridge. Across the length of the sub, emergency klaxons screamed to life at the attack. Men who had taken their stations during the alert were reeling from the unconventional assault.

"I think," Isaiah said as he felt another powerful clang against his ship's hull, "whatever it was. We pissed it off. Helm! Full forward rudder!"

"Aye Sir!"

The vessel struggled to surge ahead, despite being in the grip of a creature they could not see except for the faint images in the sonar that were no match for a visual identification. Engines droned to life within the engine room as the nuclear powered submarines propelled itself forward through the icy sea. Within its hull, its occupants held on for dear life as the beast struggled to keep its prey. Tentacles wrapped around the bullet like craft while others smashed against steel determined to buckle it.

"Captain!" Purcelli shouted as status reports came in. "We're taking on water in the rear compartment. Engineering is sealing it but we gotta get out of here."

"Launch a torpedo!" Isaiah shouted.

"But..." Purcelli protested. A torpedo would avail them nothing. The 'thing' that had them was too close! A torpedo would never hit it!

"DO IT!" Isaiah almost roared in response. "Helm! The minute that torpedo launches, you take us full steam ahead! With any luck, the torpedo might surprise it long enough to get away!"

"Aye Sir!" His helmsman nodded and his XO shouted the orders that would see a torpedo launched.

Across the Connecticut, men were struggling to remain calm, carrying out their duties to deal with the damage being caused by the relentless attack. Those who could look out a portal were uncertain of what they were seeing beyond the walls of the boat, dark, vague shapes through the almost black water, a fleeting glimpse of a tentacle but little more. One thing was clear however; whatever lay beyond was determined to tear the boat apart. As the pounding continued, breaches appeared in the hull, fissures allowing the briny water of the sea to seep in, until compartments had to be evacuated and sealed for fear of causing irreparable damage. There was a good deal of prestige that went with serving on a submarine but it came at a hefty price that disasters on board ship especially at this depth were almost always fatal.

The submarine as the torpedo tubes were flooded in readiness and klaxons for launch now screamed across the ship. Isaiah was no longer sitting down, he was next to the helmsman, hoping his gamble would work and that they would gain enough distance between themselves and what that was outside to be able to fight back.

"Torpedo away!" Lt. Briggs, the Torpedo Officer announced.

"NOW" Isaiah shouted.

"Full steam ahead Sir!" The young man shouted as the Connecticut surged ahead, taking advantage of the momentary distraction provided by the launch of the torpedo. The submarine propelled itself forward unaccustomed to accelerating to such speeds so quickly but more than capable of handling the strain. Within, they felt their escape by a violent jerk that made everyone stagger and those who weren't paying attention fell.

"It's in pursuit!" Harris barked out. "Matching our speed at 25 knots!"

"Mr. Purcelli," Isaiah turned to his first officer, a murderous gleam in his eyes. "Launch another torpedo and blow that fucker to pieces."

"Aye Sir," Purcelli nodded with a grin. "You heard the captain!" He barked to Briggs.

"Captain!" Hennesy spoke up, "Sir, it's the reactor room," the young man said uneasily. "All that pounding has caused some damage there. We may have had radiation leakage."

"Of course," Isaiah grumbled. "Tell the reactor room, we'll surface as soon as we're done dealing with the thing that's trying to kill us."

"Torpedo away!"

Once again, the Connecticut shuddered as its discharged the Mark 48 ADCAP torpedo exploded from its tubes and raced through the water, froth trailing behind as it sought out its prey. The Watcher in pursuit took little stock of the small device coming towards it, its savage mind unable to register such a thing as a threat. The prey it was hunting was capable of making strange noises it could not identify and the large expulsion of one of these odd objects had distracted it but deterred it no more than that. The beast had not fed in an age and today it was determined to feast on the hearts contained within the prey's formidable shell.

As the small projectile closed in, the Watcher's focus was still on the prey it was chasing, its own dark heart filled with the pleasure of a worthy hunt. It was so long, so long since it had known the pleasure of hunting for its meal. Trapped in limbo where the absence of hunger did not chase away the need to feed, the Watcher was experiencing the nearest it could feel to exultation as it chased its prey.

It was a fitting sensation to feel at the end.

The explosion tore through its flesh with such shocking finality the fell beast did not have time to register its end. The blast expanded through the water like a bubble, surging out it all directions, causing shock waves of kinetic energy and sound to assault anything in its path. Within the Connecticut, the explosion could be heard through the hull, felt by every man on board as the hull shuddered somewhat and the sub rocked against the wave. Up above on the surface, the expulsion of energy caused a spectacular geyser of froth and foam to be ejected into the grey sky.

"Harris?" Isaiah looked at his sonar officer, wanting to break the silence that followed the blast.

"The enemy is destroyed Sir," the young man said. "Whatever it was."

Isaiah did not show his relief, merely folding his hands behind his back and nodding stoically. That emotion could be expressed by the men sharing the bridge with him and ignored it when they did. "Take us up Purcelli and tell everyone to prepared to carry out radiation protocols once we're on the surface."

"Aye Sir," Purcelli nodded.

The Connecticut made its ascent to the surface without incident as his men prepared to exercise radiation protocols, one of the many drills practiced over time for the event of reactor failure. When one worked on board a nuclear submarine, the danger of radiation was a fact of life and while the engineers ensured the danger was minimal, Isaiah was not about to risk anyone's life by taking half measures. Besides, after the beating his boat had just taken, he was looking forward to seeing a bit of sky overhead.

"We're up to periscope depth Captain," Purcelli announced, prompting Isaiah to leave his command chair.

"Let's see what its like upstairs," he answered, pulling down the device and leaning against the handles as he took a look through the eyepiece. Isaiah hoped it was a nice day. Of course, a nice day in the middle of the Arctic Ocean was any day that didn't have biting rain and heavy sweeping winds. Unfortunately when Isaiah looked through the eyeglass, he was greeted with all these things. The sky was grey and heavy with rain clouds and droplets of rain immediately assailed the lens across the glass.

The ocean for all its choppiness was clear of traffic as Isaiah swiveled around to get a full scope of the surrounding area when something made him pause and straighten up, away from the lens.

"Purcelli," he looked at his first officer. "Where are we?"

"I beg your pardon Captain?" Purcelli looked at him strangely.

"Where in the charts are we?" He asked again.

'The Norwegian basin at coordinates 3 by 87 degrees longitude and latitude, why?" Purcelli inquired.

"That's what I thought," Isaiah nodded, staring at the island he could see in the distance, the island that had never been sighted or recorded in any map in naval history. At first he had thought it was an iceberg but it that was an iceberg then it was the biggest damn one he had ever seen and they didn't usually stay motionless on the horizon. He had been a submariner for almost twenty years and one thing Captain Isaiah Hill knew how to do was tell the difference between land and an iceberg. What he was looking at was definitely the former.

"Purcelli, unless we're fucking off course and all our instrumentation is screwed," he said casually, "I'm seeing an island."

That captured the attention of everyone on the bridge.

"An island?" Purcelli replied. "But there's not supposed to be anything out here."

"Well I'm looking at something," Isaiah replied meeting his first officer's gaze before inviting him to take a look, "it's definitely an island, a pretty big one too."

"What is this the fucking Twilight Zone?" The hot- headed Italian grumbled as he came to look.

"At least," Isaiah agreed with a sardonic smile. An island, in the middle of nowhere, undiscovered. It was impossible. The technology of today could tell what a man was reading in a newspaper from orbit. Global positioning satellites could find terrorists hiding out in caves in the middle of some war torn hell. There was no way an entire island could have been missed, even if centuries of naval exploration had been completely remiss. How on earth had it managed to avoid all detection?

"That's an island," Purcelli retorted when he looked at Isaiah again.

"Can't put anything past you Johnny," Isaiah replied with a hint of amusement. Amusement was the only way he knew how to deal with this. Too much impossibility was springing up on him today. Islands that could not possibly exist and creatures from the depths that could somehow match the speed of a nuclear submarine and come damn near to sinking it, was more than Isaiah should have been able to take. However, being the commander of a boat where every trip had the possibility of being fatal made for incredibly strong nerves, indeed all men who served on submarines developed such calluses over their fear quickly or simply could not function aboard.

"How?" Purcelli shook his head bewildered.

"Doesn't matter how," Isaiah returned smoothly. "What matters is that its there and we need to take look. Take us up to the surface," he ordered.

"Aye Sir," came the automatic reply.

"Take a look?" His XO stared back at him.

"Come on Columbus," Isaiah said with a smile, "we're about to discover the New World."

*************

She should have climbed on her horse and ridden straight away to find Legolas and the others but there was too much evil lurking on Valinor to travel unarmed on this day. She returned to the Anemone after she had sighted the exodus of ships leaving the Bay of Eldamar for the open sea. She had spend enough time on this vessel in the past two years to know where Eve kept certain things. She hurried below decks and sought the chest covered in dust from disuse. Ariel felt like an intruder as she reached for the shelf where the key to this particular box was kept and thanks to her elven senses was able to find it quickly enough.

Lowering herself to her knees, Ariel slid the key into the lock and twisted, wondering if this was madness. It was madness to attempt to reach home without so much as a knife and somehow, she guessed that if she were to run into a warg or a worse yet a spider, a blade would not help her prevail. She had not faced an enemy in her entire life. On Valinor, there were no enemies. She had spent her entire existence sheltered in comfort, learning skills she would never use only because boredom had driven her to acquire it. Ariel was slightly ashamed that now that the moment had come for her to employ any of those skills, she was searching for the simplicity of human efficiency.

Opening the chest, she stared inside at the cache of alien weapons, cast from black iron and looking formidable indeed. Eve had shown her how to use some of these; much to Legolas' chagrin who felt the weapons were crude and lacking any real need of skill to use. Ariel suspected he disliked the idea of her learning the use of any weapon because it might mean some day she would be called onto fight or worse, would believe herself capable. It was not that he wanted her to fail but his desire to protect her forced him into some rather selfish behavior. Before he had gone away to the seek out Olorin, she had tolerated it but now with Arda opened and Ariel finding in herself the need to see what was beyond Valinor, she was becoming less amicable to his restrictions.

She reached for the easiest weapon to handle; the one Eve called the handgun. It was relatively easy to use having no more instructions than a bow. She searched the box for the projectiles that made the weapon work and ran through the list that was branded into her mind thanks to the acuity of elven memory. Loading the gun, she remembered that was something to engage to ensure it did not fire when she did not wish it too and found the...what did Eve call it, the 'safety'? Setting the safety on the weapon, Ariel rose brought down the lid and locked it once more.

It did not take her long to emerge on the ship's deck once more. The wind seemed to blow harder with the coming of night and Ariel considered returning below to find a blanket before she made the long ride home. It was far colder than anything she had ever experienced in her long life and her clothes, soaked from the plunge into the ocean earlier now clung to her skin like sheets of ice. Now that they were no longer under the protection of the Valar, she could fall prey to the sicknesses that were capable of being conjured by exposure to the elements.

Deciding that a blanket would indeed be sensible protection from the cold weather during her ride back to Legolas and the others, Ariel started to move towards the walkway that led inside the vessel when suddenly, she sensed something. It tugged at the corner of her consciousness, instilling her with a chill that had little to do with the icy winds blowing at her skin. She froze and turned around, her eyes searching the length of the boat until her keen hearing honed in on the sound.

Something was breathing, breathing with a heavy pant.

She could feel its menace exuding forth like the slow drift of black smoke. It was drawing near. Ariel's first thought was to flee beneath the deck but then realized to do so would be to invite her own death for its space was too confining to fight if she forced into it. No, what was coming would kill her if she did not acquit herself accordingly. She had never before in her life drawn any weapon to do battle and whilst she knew she had the skill, she lacked the experience that made warriors great. She was not her husband though she wished more than any thing that he were here at this moment facing this peril.

The sense of doom began to form into something hardier, something that had shape and tangibility. It sounded in her ears as the soft pads of flesh against wet wood. Elven senses forced her into movement; her eyes fixed upon the wooden pier that led away from the water's edge to the shore. Cautiously, she moved along the deck of the vessel known as Anemone and froze when she heard the patter of footsteps closing in, moving stealthily towards her. Her heart began to pound as she neared the pier and prepared to disembark when a blast of heat washed over her neck, wet and abated.

She swung around as the warg launched itself at her. Ariel let out a short scream as its massive bulk flew through the air, enormous jaws preparing to snap around her throat. She threw herself out of the way and scrambled to her feet when it landed in the place she had been standing. Leaping over the railing, she landed on the wooden deck and almost lost her footing on the sleet-covered ground. The beast swung its head in her direction and let out an indignant howl at her audacity to run. Ariel had only seen this creatures in books before this day but as malevolent yellow eyes glared at her in hatred, she knew that if she did not defend herself, it would be the last time she saw anything ever again.

The idea of dying. The idea of being killed and leaving her sweet Prince to mourn what would surely be a devastating loss propelled her forward. She needed to reach her horse. Fear compelled her to move without further debate and as she ran, Ariel looked over her shoulder long enough to see the beast give chase. Mouth open, tongue lolling to the side, white teeth gleaming with rain and saliva, the warg advanced quickly, its muscles rippling beneath the pelt of fur. Ariel's faced front, knowing she should not look behind lest she wanted to live when she realized her horse was not there. Where had her mare disappeared! It was only as she reached the end did she see the blood and guessed the animal's fate.

A fate she would soon share. Behind her, she could hear its pounding footsteps closing in on her. Swinging around, she saw the beast coming and it would be upon in a matter of seconds. Heart pounding with terror, Ariel knew there was only one course left to her. Raising the weapon she was still clutching but too uncertain to use, she replayed in her head all of Eve's instruction and prayed that it was enough. Practically shaking as she disengaged the safety precaution she had put into place earlier, she watched in wide-eyed fear as the warg closed the distance and pounced. Her ears were filled with it powerful roar as Ariel began pulling the trigger and then suddenly, the call of the warg seemed to wither and faced with the explosion of sound the weapon in her hand.

Like thunder exploding around her ears, Ariel watched in horror as her simple action of squeezing her finger against the cold steel caused a burst of fire to escape the barrel at the warg in rapid succession. The sound drained all other noise from her hearing, until there was almost physical discomfort in being forced to listen. She did not know how many times she pulled the trigger, only that it created further explosions of near deafening sound. Through this maelstrom of mini-sonic booms, she heard the cry of the warg who would presume to take her life. Its outraged roars of pain soon disintegrating into animalistic howls of defeat. Ariel did not stop pulling the trigger until there was no more noise and every projectile within the weapon's chamber was unleashed upon the beast.

When Ariel opened her eyes, she saw the warg before her, its blood sweeping across the deck towards her feet. Its body riddled in holes, shredded by the 'bullets' as called by Eve, that Ariel had set upon it. She stood over the beast in its death; its massive bulk unmoving as it lay before her dead. Glassy eyes stared into nothingness as Ariel stepped back, not wishing her feet to become stained by blood. She looked at thing in its death and realized that it was the first time in her existence that she had taken a life. Even if it was a fell beast that would have killed her with little remorse, Ariel was nonetheless staggered.

Retreating but a few steps, she sunk to the damp ground, staring at the warg, at the kill she had made today and could understand not how anyone found pleasure in death. It was a bloody, terrible thing, to have such power in ones grasp and yield it to the sorrow of another. She knew it was foolishness, it was a warg that she grieved over but any that asked would know it was not the beast that made her ache so. It was the loss of her innocence.

Never again she could look into the mirror and count herself untainted.

There was blood on her hands.

***********

There was no need of elven senses to hear the sound of gunfire, even through the rain or howling wind.

Bryan Miller had lived with that sound almost all his life. The ability to create that commotion was the defining characteristic of his entire persona. Violence was all he knew and for a brief moment, for a singular instant in time, he was shown another way, a way where one did not have to fight, where faith alone could move mountains and love was not just for poets. She had been everything and when she died, Tory had taken the best of him with her. He knew that now. He knew that as he rode through the rain and sleet to reach Eve, to spare Aaron Stone the emptiness that was swallowing him whole.

"What the hell was that?" Aaron demanded.

"A bloody 45!" Bryan retorted digging his heels into his mount, sending his horse galloping forward with even greater speed. The sounds continued with a cluster of explosions that told Bryan that someone was taking great exception to being attacked and was defending themselves accordingly.

"It Eve!" Aaron shouted, forgetting all his apprehension with horses and he sat forward in his saddle and urged his horse to keep up with Bryan who was galloping ahead hard. It could be no one else. With Miranda, Eric and Jason returning to Tirion with the children, the only person who was capable of firing a 45 was Eve. Aaron felt his heart contract in his chest from cold fear because he knew that Eve loathed to use guns in Valinor. Even when she had been giving Ariel lessons, much to Legolas' consternation, she had tried to limit how many shots were fired. It was profane, she called it. Now it appeared, she was not merely using it, she was firing away guns blazing. With everything they had seen so far tonight, Aaron didn't even want to consider what she and their baby were facing to warrant such an unrelenting attack.

Legolas and Elrohir were soon surging forward with equal determination, one to find the sister that they had found again and the other to ensure the wife he had spent so many years with was not taken by Sauron's malice as Tory had been stolen away from Bryan. Legolas did not speak his anxieties to either Aaron or Bryan because it would avail him nothing and only strain their already precarious emotional states to breaking point. Aaron was terrified not only for his wife but also for his unborn babe. Despite his efforts to maintain his composure, Legolas could see the full extent of grief on every breath that Bryan took.

The former Prince of Mirkwood understood Bryan's pain all too well and had no wish to endure the agony of losing a wife, yet again. A part of him had died when Melia had passed onto the next world and as much as he loved Ariel, even though he knew that she carried Melia's soul, it never felt the same. Not entirely. She was his soul mate and had spared him endless years of sorrow but as much as he despised himself for it, Legolas had never been able to feel the same burning passion for Ariel as he had for that girl in her blue dress that night in Lorien.

Breaking through the forest of trees that framed the shore, it was Legolas who first saw the Anemone swaying precariously above the choppy water, amidst the powerful swell of ocean tides and biting wind. However, it was not the vessel that was had caught his attention and had him pressing his heels deeper into Arod's flank, pushing the horse to thunder forward despite the weather, over taking Bryan as they advanced forward. Sand and mud splattered beneath the hooves while rain swept over him like tiny needles biting at his skin. He could only see his wife, kneeling before the beast, his keen eyes seeing the blood, so much of it that had stained her shoes and turned the hem of her dress crimson.

She had killed the creature, he realized when he reached her after dismounting his horse. Had she used Eve's weapon to do it? Legolas saw her holding the gun in her hand. The idea that she had used it seemed unbelievable to him but then one only had to look at the blood on her clothes and the creature on the pier to know that she had indeed used the malicious weapon on an even more malicious foe.

"Ariel," he called to her.

She turned to him, face stained with tears. Seeing him widened her eyes and relief flooded into her lovely features. "Oh Prince," she cried out and hurried into his arms. "You're here!"

"I would find you wherever you are," he said holding her close. "Are you harmed?"

"No," she shook her head, her face buried in his chest as she wept. "I killed it. I have taken a life."

"It is a life not to be mourned my love," he said stroking her wet hair, aware that the thing she had killed was not the point. It was the entire notion of snatching away life from another being, had deservedly or not. It was a thing that warriors suffered. He had done so in his youth and Thranduil's sympathetic words had assuaged his guilt. Legolas hoped his father's advice would help her as it had helped the young prince of Mirkwood. "You did what needed to be done. You live and the enemy is dead. There is cold comfort in that I know," he said forcing her to look at him. "But it is all that can be hoped for."

Ariel nodded, trying to be brave from her prince when she looked over his shoulder and saw the approach of the others and suddenly, something even greater than her fear emerged to the surface of her tormented thoughts. "Sauron!" She broke away. "He has taken Eve!"

"No," Aaron grimaced, his mind almost paralyzed with horror and anguish at the notion of Eve in Saeran's hand. "Where is she?" He broke into a run to reach Legolas. "Tell me? What did he do?"

Aaron would have grabbed her and shaken the answer out of Ariel if not for Legolas' body shielding her. "Tell me!"

"Aaron," Bryan grabbed his arm, trying to calm him down, understanding all too well what the doctor was going through. "Let her talk!"

Ariel was shaking hard from the cold, her ordeal at the hands of Sauron and the beast that was his agent but she was not so out of her wits that she did not recognize the necessity of an expedient answer. "He forced her to go with him," she said looking at Aaron with sorrow in her eyes. "He threatened the babe in her body and told her," Ariel paused feeling tears come because she had been so helpless, so unable to help her friend. She forced them back, her fingers digging into Legolas' for support as she forced herself to speak, "he told her he would kill it in her belly and I as well if she did not obey. Aaron, she went with him to save us both." There was shame in her eyes.

Aaron turned away, unable comprehend the magnitude of what he was told. Eve, his wife, the son of a bitch had his wife and his child. The enormity of it threatened to choke the life out of him. Saeran had already killed Tory, taken her life out of sheer spite and he had greater reason to hate the reincarnation of Isildur's line. Even if they could defeat the bastard, there was every possibility that he would kill Eve first, kill her before Aaron ever saw her face again. No, he almost doubled over in anguish. Not Eve too, not after Tory.

"God," he whispered. "Eve."

Elrohir came to him and clutched his arm, "we will find her." The elf that was once Undomiel's brother said with determination. "We will get them both back."

"Did you see where they went?" Bryan said quietly, unable to give Aaron any comfort, not when he was trying to deal with Tory's loss. He was strong because he knew how to control his emotions after a lifetime of service to queen and country where he had seen men die and been the cause of their deaths at one time or another. Granted, nothing had prepared him for Tory's death and he would have to deal with the grief of her passing eventually. However, right now, Eve whom he cared about was in the hands of the bastard who took Tory from him and he was not going to let Aaron suffer the same hell.

"He is no longer in Valinor," Ariel broke away from Legolas, finding a reservoir of strength inside her she did not know existed. She looked to the horizon of the grey sea. "He has stolen the grey ships of the Teleri and ferried his agents away from these shores. I saw them," she whirled around and stared at the men before her. "Wargs, orcs, spiders," she spat bitterly, "every foul thing from the depths of Mandos has been freed. He has unleashed them all and they go now to your world," she met Bryan's gaze. "He goes there to rule."

"We must follow him," Legolas returned. "Your people will not know how to fight the Urloki or the Watchers. After the balrogs are done on these shores, they will go forth as well. They will turn Arda to ash."

"My people will fight them," Bryan replied grimly, "but they'll likely destroy the planet trying to do it and I think that's what Saeran wants. He may get his nuclear war yet."

"And we are alone," Legolas said shaking his head, looking to the sky as if staring hard enough would reveal to him the fate of the Valar whose absence in all this was almost as disconcerting as Sauron's departure from these shores. Unfortunately, there was no enlightenment, just more rain and wind turning his pale skin slowly blue.

"Aaron," Bryan looked at the psychiatrist who had been silent in all this, "Aaron I need you to pull yourself together." Bryan strode across the ground towards the doctor and grabbed his arm to force Aaron into facing him.

"Aaron!" Bryan's voice was like the hard snapping of the gale force wind. "I need you to pull yourself together."

"He'll kill her," Aaron said shaking his head. "He'll never let us reach her. He'll kill her the minute we lay our eyes on her."

"AARON!" Bryan barked. "I don't bloody have time for this. She's still alive and while she's alive, we have a chance to get her back! You can deal with that fact or you can write her off now and let me tell you something," his voice almost cracked. "Some hope is better than nothing at all. Eve is still breathing and every moment she breathes is a chance for us to save her."

Aaron stared at Bryan and knew just how hard that was for Bryan to say, how much pain he was actually hiding behind his green eyes. "You think we can get her back?"

"I don't know," Bryan was not about to lie, "but we have to try." His voice almost a whisper. "We have to try while there's a chance."

Bryan turned away and blinked, tightening his control over his emotions as his eyes misted over.

"What has happened?" Ariel saw the son of Gondor's sorrowed expression and knew that something terrible had occurred. Then she remembered what Sauron had said.

"Do I have to kill another of you?"

"Who is dead?" Ariel turned to her husband. "What has Sauron done?"

Legolas looked at his wife an answered quietly, "Sauron took Tory's life."

"Oh no!" Ariel gasped softly, her eyes switching immediately to Bryan. "Oh Bryan," her hand flew to her lips as her cheeks became wet with tears. "Not Tory."

Ariel considered the graceful young woman who was mother to Fred and almost wife to the son of Gondor a friend. It was Ariel who aided Tory in finding her way in Valinor, as she had helped Eve when Undomiel's reincarnation had first arrived in the Undying Lands. Tory had been a good, kind soul, a woman who heart bore the serenity of an elf. A sob escaped Ariel and she turned away to hide her grief in Legolas' shoulder, wishing to hide her pain from Bryan who was must be suffering beyond her ability to comprehend. Legolas held his wife, taken back by her strength somewhat. He was seeing something in her that he had not seen before and it was rather taking him by surprise.

"We have to follow him," Bryan said after a composing himself once more. "He'll be heading for England first. His base of power is in Europe, England is the sensible place to start."

"He will marshal all his agents in your world," Elrohir responded. "The Uruks you spoke of," he reminded Bryan and Aaron, "and the creatures in his lair where we battled the Nine."

"He has a great deal of power in Europe," Bryan replied walking towards the horses, "he has all the resources of Malcolm Industries to wage a war on two fronts. The modern world will have no idea what they'll be dealing with."

"He'll go to Romania," Aaron said finally.

"Romania?" Bryan met his gaze and then nodded a moment later when he realized that the doctor was right.

"Yes," Legolas added in agreement. "He is a creature of habit."

"It is his place of power," Elrohir sighed, knowing that once again, the hills of overlooking the Mountain of Fire would be witness to another great battle, perhaps the last one. "Its what he knows."

"And where we have to go to find Eve," Aaron said finally, deciding that Bryan was right. He had no choice but to believe that getting her back was possible. While she still breathed, there was still a chance and there was nowhere he would not go to retrieve her, nowhere that was too far away.

Even to Barad-dûr.

TO BE CONTINUED