Reflections in Blood

2. A Gathering of Wanderers

That same night, a small meeting room in the House of Blues Hotel was filled with music. It was a small gathering of the principal cast and a few friends; the real party would take place tomorrow, the day after which was The Two Towers premiere. Considering the neutral location, which no one lived in or near, it was actually amazing that everyone had shown up.

Ian McKellen and Hugo Weaving stood, their backs to the wall, and watched the scene unfold. The Hobbits and Orli were in their usual boy-gaggle; Ian swore that they were magnetically connected. Viggo was talking to John and Liv. Miranda and Cate looked like they were about to close in on Sean Bean, who'd been avoiding everyone all night, and had been acting unusually nervous. "Ian," Hugo gave the older man a furtive glance. "There's something you should know."

Ian noticed the figure gliding over to greet them. "Alan Rickman," he spoke in an undertone. The man was a dedicated actor who'd become friends with Ian while they'd filmed "Rasputin". Unfortunately, he was also an extremely powerful vampire Lord, and could be moody and dangerous. Ian knew these moods, and knew that Alan was not above coercion to get what he was after, though he was not strictly "evil" in the textbook sense of the word. "How in Hell did he know I was here?"

"I suspect he has lots of ways of knowing where you'll be, and equally as many ways of sweet-talking his way into those places. He pulled rank on me, Ian. He practically forced my hand. You said he didn't do that, that he was decent." Hugo pulled a small, insulated metal flask from his jacket pocket, pouring a few drops of chilled blood into his wine.

"Moods. Alan can be quite nasty when he's in one of his moods."

"Really?" Amber eyes had fixed them both, the voice silky.

"Alan, I didn't ask you here," Ian flicked his blue gaze over the other man, the irritation in his voice unmistakable.

"I invited myself. Hugo actually let me in," Alan purred in his velvet tones. "Aren't you glad to see me, Ian?"

"Not when you're in this destructive type of mood. Don't deny it. You came here hunting."

Alan folded his hands over each other, but made no move to deny it. "Something you'd suggest to me, wizard? Are you possibly offering to make it easy on me? Thank you, but no. I prefer a younger vintage at the moment. Like the fetching creature with the long hair and the blue-green eyes," Alan shot a narrow look at Viggo, who'd grown his hair past his jaw for this occasion, as he'd felt rather wrong without it.

"These people are under my protection, Alan," Ian reminded, not a threat, but potent. He may as well have stepped in front of Alan wielding a staff, or, more appropriately, a stake.

"And mine," Hugo added, his eyes taking on a sudden glitter.

"I doubt a stripling, who still has to rely on chemicals to remain in sunlight, and who can't resist a simple mental suggestion without buckling, could do anything to me. But, as Ian is my friend, and I would like him to remain so, I'll back off. But, I came here for a purpose."

"That would be?" Ian looked suspicious. This might well be one of Alan's tricks.<
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"The Gil-Galad, the Order of Starlight. I only felt the need to look into them since you were involved, Dear Ian," the vampire lord laid a sarcastic stress on the word. "As I've heard, you've become quite the expert on Tolkien. I trust you've heard of them."

"Myth, gossip," Ian snorted. "At the very most, they died out in the Seventies."

"Your movies have revived them, more fanatical, far more vicious, and far more determined, and they've gathered here, waiting for the lot of you, from what my court here has told me."

"Tolkien fans? Fans of the movie?" Hugo's question was half joking.

"Not fans. Fans have the sensibility to care about actors, to understand that the books they adore are not the real world. At the very worst, they believe in that world, but would never harm anyone. No, Hugo, the Gil-Galad are a cult; they practically worship elves, from what I've heard. Some have dedicated their lives to finding physical evidence that elves existed." Ian explained. "It was hard information to find, and I actually stumbled across the first bit by accident."

"Some of them are rather fond of Hobbits, as well, now, or so my spies have told me," Alan lowered his lashes, glancing at Elijah. "The ladies and gentlemen you've been keeping company with are really most captivating, Ian." He glanced at Sean Bean now, who was nursing a glass of white wine, holding it in a hand that had apparently been recently injured. "I see the Lower Kingdoms have sent an emissary. How lovely."

"He's miserable. How dare you call him something so dirty!" Hugo practically hissed, fangs showing sharply behind his lips for a bare instant.

Ian, not wanting a confrontation between the two, and knowing that Alan would break the younger vampire if provoked, stepped in. "He doesn't understand. At most, he's had two weeks. Leave him."

"I intend to. Poison, as well you know."

"I know. Where is your stake in this, Alan? Why all the interest in a small cult? You probably watched some of them leave London, or New York, to come here, but curiosity isn't enough for you. They must be a threat to your power."

"A threat to a dear old friend. They might come hunting wizards next," Alan shrugged. "In that, they won't find themselves far off. Besides, they want nothing less than to change the entire order of the world. You'd be concerned."

"What do you want?" There was more here than a warning. The vampire Lord was up to something. This went further than simply a mood.

"You've denied it me, here, but, I have ways at getting what I set my eye on."

"Which one?" Ian demanded.

"Any of them, all of them, except your Sean, since he has recently become too . . . hazardous for my taste." Alan turned, hoping after Miranda's company. "I'll not harm any of them, but you can't stop me tasting. Remember, Ian, keep a close eye on the younger ones. They must not be taken," with these words the other two saw the first true sincerity in the amber eyes. He even seemed a little frightened. "Walk softly on this." He seemed to melt away into the small groups of people.

"Hunt with Grace and Speed," Hugo offered the retreating Lord the vampire's salutation, and swore he heard Alan laugh.

"It's a little late to be cryptic." Ian looked grave. "It's time we stepped up our watch."