TPOL: C16-C17
Chapter Sixteen: Trojan Hobbits?
Leaving all their things safely stowed away in a small crack in the rock face, Leonard and James climbed down to the main road that led down to the main gates of Minas Morgul.
"Halt! Who goes there?" a voice demanded from the daytime gloom.
"James Tiberius Kirk, the Son of the Dead Hero, and--" James began, but he was interrupted by Leonard.
"--and Leonard Horatio McCoy, Healer of the Shire and the One Chosen by Fate to defeat your leader, Nero," he added.
The hobbits soon found themselves thrown into a prison cell together.
"That went well," Leonard grumbled, "they didn't take us to Nero."
"Maybe he's busy right now," James suggested.
"That would be a bad thing," Leonard observed.
James nodded--Leonard did have a point there.
"Maybe we can escape," the younger hobbit mused aloud.
"And do what?" Leonard demanded, "in case you haven't noticed yet, they took your sword."
"Not a problem," James said.
"It's not?" Leonard asked, surprised.
"Yeah," the younger hobbit said confidently, "all you need to do is challenge Nero to a fight to the death, and insist on using the sword they took from me."
"Dammit, Jim, that's a terrible idea," the healer insisted, "I don't know how to fight."
"They don't teach you how to fight in the Shire?" James asked, "what do they teach youngsters?"
"Gardening, cooking, brewing, healing," replied Leonard, "whatever they're most interested in, that's what they learn. We Shirefolk aren't fighters and adventurers, James."
"But--," James began to object, but Leonard was quick to cut him off.
"But nothing, James," he snapped, "Frodo and the others were the exception to the rule. Most hobbits never even leave their hometowns."
"You did," James pointed out, "you chose to leave the Shire after your divorce."
"Divorce is a rare thing in the Shire, James," Leonard replied, "I chose to leave the Shire completely because I was tired of the odd looks I was getting."
"You went with me when I offered you the chance to go on an adventure, too."
"Only because I didn't have anywhere else I'd rather be," Leonard admitted, "and I was quite happy to stay in Falasîr, learning about the anatomy of elves, men, and dwarves."
"After we deal with Nero, Bones," James asked, "do you want to stay in Falasîr, with me?"
Before Leonard could reply, the door to their cell opened.
"Nero will see you now, halflings," announced the elfin creature--Leonard was not sure what he was, but he did look a lot like an elf.
Chapter Seventeen: Mithril
"Nero wants Frodo Baggins' mithril coat," Uhura stated.
"But why?" asked Ninniach, "what use could he have for an old trinket like that?"
"Mithril is stronger than dragon scales," Spock observed.
"Silver-white treasure of Moria,
Gift freely given to a thief,
Secret savior of Halflings," murmured King Arciryas softly.
Spock cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Sire?" he asked.
"Oh, it's just an old rhyme my mother taught me," the king replied.
Ninniach frowned.
"Pardon me, sire," she asked, "but wasn't she from Falasîr?"
Arciryas nodded.
"Yes, she was," he affirmed.
"Nero wants the mithril coat because it's prophesied to protect the Chosen One," the Captain of the City Guard concluded.
"But what is he doing, looking for it here in Minas Tirith?" Uhura asked.
"There is a myth that descendants of Samwise Gamgee brought the coat to Minas Tirith, as a gift to the King," Arciryas remarked, "I've never seen the coat anywhere in the Palace, though."
"My mother used to tell me stories of hidden passages throughout Minas Tirith," Ninniach remarked, "I've never found any of them, but then, they only appear when one is in dire need of them."
"Some kind of magic?" Uhura asked.
"Guess so," Ninniach replied, "Gelydh might know where we should look, though."
"Gelydh tried to guide us away from Frodo's mithril coat," Uhura remarked.
"You might have a traitor in your city, sire," Spock observed, "And it might already be too late to stop him from assisting Nero in getting that mithril coat."
"Really?" Ninniach asked, surprised, "that doesn't sound like him."
Arciryas sighed.
"Gelydh's a good man, Spock," he insisted, "let's not be hasty and jump to conclusions."
"That is a brilliant idea, sire," a voice called out.
"Gelydh!" exclaimed Arciryas, "what are you doing out of the library?"
"I have come to warn you, sire," the librarian replied.
"Warn me?" the king asked.
"Yes, sire," Gelydh replied, "Nero has the Chosen One in his dungeon."
Uhura frowned.
"How do you know this?" she demanded.
"I have seen it, ma'am," Gelydh replied, "in a vision."
"Gelydh has the gift of prophecy," Ninniach volunteered.
"Foretelling the present is not prophecy," Spock observed.
"Hush," Arciryas ordered, "Gelydh, tell me everything."
~*~
The elf-creature led them to a lavishly decorated throne room, complete with an elevated dais.
"My lord," the elf-creature said with a low bow to the throne on the dais, "I have brought the halflings."
"Thank you, Ayel," the creature on the throne said.
James scowled.
"Nero," he growled, his voice full of hatred.
"James Kirk," Nero replied cheerfully, "I do hope you are enjoying your stay."
"You will pay for my father's death," James growled.
Nero shook his head.
"No, I don't think so, James," he replied, "especially since I have you both right where I want you."
"Leave Bones out of this, Nero," James snarled, "he's a healer, he's no threat to you."
Nero laughed.
"Do you really think that I am that stupid, James?" the elf-creature asked, "I know all about your 'Chosen One', little halfling."
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Leaving all their things safely stowed away in a small crack in the rock face, Leonard and James climbed down to the main road that led down to the main gates of Minas Morgul.
"Halt! Who goes there?" a voice demanded from the daytime gloom.
"James Tiberius Kirk, the Son of the Dead Hero, and--" James began, but he was interrupted by Leonard.
"--and Leonard Horatio McCoy, Healer of the Shire and the One Chosen by Fate to defeat your leader, Nero," he added.
The hobbits soon found themselves thrown into a prison cell together.
"That went well," Leonard grumbled, "they didn't take us to Nero."
"Maybe he's busy right now," James suggested.
"That would be a bad thing," Leonard observed.
James nodded--Leonard did have a point there.
"Maybe we can escape," the younger hobbit mused aloud.
"And do what?" Leonard demanded, "in case you haven't noticed yet, they took your sword."
"Not a problem," James said.
"It's not?" Leonard asked, surprised.
"Yeah," the younger hobbit said confidently, "all you need to do is challenge Nero to a fight to the death, and insist on using the sword they took from me."
"Dammit, Jim, that's a terrible idea," the healer insisted, "I don't know how to fight."
"They don't teach you how to fight in the Shire?" James asked, "what do they teach youngsters?"
"Gardening, cooking, brewing, healing," replied Leonard, "whatever they're most interested in, that's what they learn. We Shirefolk aren't fighters and adventurers, James."
"But--," James began to object, but Leonard was quick to cut him off.
"But nothing, James," he snapped, "Frodo and the others were the exception to the rule. Most hobbits never even leave their hometowns."
"You did," James pointed out, "you chose to leave the Shire after your divorce."
"Divorce is a rare thing in the Shire, James," Leonard replied, "I chose to leave the Shire completely because I was tired of the odd looks I was getting."
"You went with me when I offered you the chance to go on an adventure, too."
"Only because I didn't have anywhere else I'd rather be," Leonard admitted, "and I was quite happy to stay in Falasîr, learning about the anatomy of elves, men, and dwarves."
"After we deal with Nero, Bones," James asked, "do you want to stay in Falasîr, with me?"
Before Leonard could reply, the door to their cell opened.
"Nero will see you now, halflings," announced the elfin creature--Leonard was not sure what he was, but he did look a lot like an elf.
Chapter Seventeen: Mithril
"Nero wants Frodo Baggins' mithril coat," Uhura stated.
"But why?" asked Ninniach, "what use could he have for an old trinket like that?"
"Mithril is stronger than dragon scales," Spock observed.
"Silver-white treasure of Moria,
Gift freely given to a thief,
Secret savior of Halflings," murmured King Arciryas softly.
Spock cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Sire?" he asked.
"Oh, it's just an old rhyme my mother taught me," the king replied.
Ninniach frowned.
"Pardon me, sire," she asked, "but wasn't she from Falasîr?"
Arciryas nodded.
"Yes, she was," he affirmed.
"Nero wants the mithril coat because it's prophesied to protect the Chosen One," the Captain of the City Guard concluded.
"But what is he doing, looking for it here in Minas Tirith?" Uhura asked.
"There is a myth that descendants of Samwise Gamgee brought the coat to Minas Tirith, as a gift to the King," Arciryas remarked, "I've never seen the coat anywhere in the Palace, though."
"My mother used to tell me stories of hidden passages throughout Minas Tirith," Ninniach remarked, "I've never found any of them, but then, they only appear when one is in dire need of them."
"Some kind of magic?" Uhura asked.
"Guess so," Ninniach replied, "Gelydh might know where we should look, though."
"Gelydh tried to guide us away from Frodo's mithril coat," Uhura remarked.
"You might have a traitor in your city, sire," Spock observed, "And it might already be too late to stop him from assisting Nero in getting that mithril coat."
"Really?" Ninniach asked, surprised, "that doesn't sound like him."
Arciryas sighed.
"Gelydh's a good man, Spock," he insisted, "let's not be hasty and jump to conclusions."
"That is a brilliant idea, sire," a voice called out.
"Gelydh!" exclaimed Arciryas, "what are you doing out of the library?"
"I have come to warn you, sire," the librarian replied.
"Warn me?" the king asked.
"Yes, sire," Gelydh replied, "Nero has the Chosen One in his dungeon."
Uhura frowned.
"How do you know this?" she demanded.
"I have seen it, ma'am," Gelydh replied, "in a vision."
"Gelydh has the gift of prophecy," Ninniach volunteered.
"Foretelling the present is not prophecy," Spock observed.
"Hush," Arciryas ordered, "Gelydh, tell me everything."
~*~
The elf-creature led them to a lavishly decorated throne room, complete with an elevated dais.
"My lord," the elf-creature said with a low bow to the throne on the dais, "I have brought the halflings."
"Thank you, Ayel," the creature on the throne said.
James scowled.
"Nero," he growled, his voice full of hatred.
"James Kirk," Nero replied cheerfully, "I do hope you are enjoying your stay."
"You will pay for my father's death," James growled.
Nero shook his head.
"No, I don't think so, James," he replied, "especially since I have you both right where I want you."
"Leave Bones out of this, Nero," James snarled, "he's a healer, he's no threat to you."
Nero laughed.
"Do you really think that I am that stupid, James?" the elf-creature asked, "I know all about your 'Chosen One', little halfling."
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