Hîr o Meril Thaifn [Lord of Rose Pillars]

Part Eight: Debriefing, Decisions, and Discoveries

Legolas stared in amazed and grateful wonder, squeezing hard on his friend's slender fingers, and brought his other hand to lay upon the Noldo Lord's, utterly speechless. He was simultaneously elated to have such a firm commitment and aggrieved to have his beloved Seneschal placed in jeopardy on his account.

"Excellent! I knew we could count on you! Everyone gives Vairë such voluble complaints for her twists and turns of fate, but I highly approve her setting your path upon this auspicious intersection with Thranduilion's." Mithrandir actually rubbed his palms together in satisfaction. "Now then, you know of the boundary betwixt this reality and the regions of Arda once called Middle-earth," he began and then stopped, grimacing in aggravation and patting his hands over his robes.

"Yes, that is known to everyone, Gandalf, please continue," urged Erestor. "What is IMF and to what portal are you referring?"

"Bah, I cannot endure a lengthy narration without my pipe," he grumped and rose from his seat. Two strides took him to the mantle over the empty grate and he pulled on the braided satin cord twice to summon the help. He had not even resumed his chair when two brisk raps sounded on the door and Galion popped inside. It was quite obvious he had to have been just outside the suite to get there so quickly.

"Who rang and what for?" he demanded, then grinned to see his favourite Wood Elf prince awake and clear-minded. He hurried right to the bed and practically ripped Erestor's hands off the silvan in order to gather Legolas close in a strong embrace. "There he is! You look much better for your rest, Brannon'eth. [young Lord] Did you have the scones and tea? Hervessen [the missus] made it just how you like it."

"Aye, Galion, but I am not a Lord anymore," Legolas smiled as he returned the hug, sending the Noldo an apologetic glance over the butler's shoulder, and had to grab onto the mobile covers quickly to prevent exposing himself again.

"Nonsense!" He patted the archer's back and then held him arm's length out to complete his inspection. Galion did not miss the prince's gesture and twitched the sheet back just a hair to satisfy his suspicions. "Long will you be a Lord among the silvans."

"Galion!" hissed Legolas and flashed a look in Erestor's direction. Sure enough, the Noldo's eyes were trained right on his lap. Legolas dropped his sight there, too, and gulped, for the bright red tip of his cock was just visible above the disobedient cotton drape. He sighed in resignation; after all, his host had already seen him in full-fledged, wet and tumid erubescence. A quick rearrangement rectified the problem, or rather covered it up again, and this time Legolas kept one hand firmly attached to the drift-prone fabric.

"Now who rang?" Galion completely ignored Legolas' rebuke and stepped back from the bed. He favoured the other two with piercing stares, as though sending for the chief steward was an inexcusable example of sloth and an unacceptable infringement on his precious time.

"I did," barked the wizard. "I need my pipe and leaf."

"Ah, Mithrandir, perhaps…" Legolas attempted to warn him just a few seconds too late.

"Need is a relative term, and in the current frame of reference your desire to indulge that filthy habit is outweighed by Legolas' need to breathe. The smoke does not agree with Brannonlas [Leaf Lord] and his lung is still tender from the injury," lectured Erestor's seneschal.

"Do not disrespect guests in my house!" thundered Erestor, rising from the bed, angry and mortified all at the same time. "Apologise immediately or I shall be forced to demand your resignation!"

"What, again? I will not ask pardon for doing my job, which is to look after this household, is it not?"

"Yes, but that does not include castigating the guests for…"

"Guests? Those two are family folk, or as near as possible to it without sharing the same ancestors," Galion countered, hands on hips.

A short silence ensued, for Erestor was shocked speechless, Mithrandir could not decide whether to feel insulted or honoured, and Legolas knew better than to bother arguing the point, having been raised under Galion's brusque and earthy philosophies.

"Why, thank you, Galion," Mithrandir, having decided he had indeed been conferred high praise, gruffly mumbled a response and broke the solitude. He stood as he spoke and paced to the open windows, finding he needed to check on the weather or the height of the sun, perhaps. It was evident his shoulders quaked minutely, but whether this was from suppressing tears or laughter none of the elves could determine.

"You may smoke out on the porch, then," the august major-domo relented and left the room, his voice, answering some unheard query, trailing faintly behind. "…have our Brannonlas settled down right soon, Hervessen."

The suite was quiet for an interminable moment longer.

"I am terribly sorry, Mithrandir, but that is as much a concession as Galion is likely to grant," explained Legolas.

"No need for apologies; he is quite right, quite right. Your lung is delicate still, no doubt," the Maia smiled over his shoulder.

"Actually, I meant you shall have to retrieve the pipe yourself," the silvan murmured in chagrin.

"Oh." The Istar snorted a small amused grunt and shook his head. "I have decided I am rather fond of that steward," he announced and walked out onto the veranda. "Erestor, help Legolas out to the chaise while I fetch the accoutrements of my 'filthy habit'."

Alone in the room, the two elves fretted over how to achieve the wizard's directive without repeating, and exceeding, the earlier episode of fondling, given the archer's aggravated state of arousal and the vintner's lack of will-power. Erestor was not certain, if he touched Legolas just now, whether he would be able to master the urge to learn first-hand about some of the silvan's specific preferences. For his part, Legolas was terrified that he would lose control and come undone the instant he felt Erestor's arms around him. There was also some unfinished business each felt the need to address, and chose the exact same moment to do so.

"Hannaden." "Gohenna nîn." "An van?" [My thanks. Forgive me. For what?] The phrases, spoken in unison, made them laugh together, too.

"Nay, you have nothing to thank me for," Erestor started again.

"Well, you have no need for pardon from me. And in any case I am grateful for your discretion regarding Ringë."

"Ah, I have already said I am the one to blame for that and therefore no gratitude is owed. And instead of rectifying the first error, I committed another. I should not have been so free with my hands this morning, especially after Ringë's assault and Elrohir's manipulations."

"Oh, that! I was not offended," Legolas' heart soared to hear that the reason for the Noldo's abrupt cessation of attention had nothing to do with disgust or revulsion. His pulse was hammering so strongly he wondered if his host could hear it. "And I would call saving my life a fitting way to over-rule any insult you might imagine to have given."

They were both amazed at how easy mastering the awkward topic had turned out to be and felt a tremendous lifting of pressure to have got the troubling incidents all behind them. The pleasantries died away again as the spooners became so engrossed in contemplating how stunningly magnificent the other was and how miraculously startling was this sudden accord that neither acknowledged the Maia's return until he coughed loudly from the porch.

"You are both inside yet I distinctly recall asking you to come out on the veranda. Really, we cannot put off this discussion, unpleasant though it undoubtedly shall be."

"Yes, yes, we are coming, Mithrandir," avowed Erestor.

"Oh I certainly hope not," mumbled the Istar under his breath.

"What did you say?" demanded the Noldo irritably, displeased with the innuendo.

"Hurry up, you try my patience."

Erestor turned back to the bed and met Legolas' embarrassed stare.

"All right, we can do this," he whispered, feeling it best to treat the situation as any ordinary little problem, like what to do when one locked the safe with the keys inside or arrived at market to discover the shopping list left at home. "Do you want your leggings?"

"Nay; cannot possibly get them on just now," Legolas' responding whisper was accompanied by a sheepish shrug.

"Right. What about some pyjama pants? Those are designed to fit loosely. Plus, I am larger than you and…"

"That remains to be seen."

A half-second's silence while Legolas smirked and Erestor lifted his left brow a minuscule amount.

"…and I could send Galion for a pair of mine."

"Sometime this Age, if you please!" called Mithrandir in exasperation.

"Lend me the ones you have on now and that will do."

"What?"

"Your robe is long enough to cover you. Honestly, why is nudity so intimidating to you?"

"It is not a question of timidity, Thranduilion, but a matter of decency. Public exposure of one's naked body just is not appropriate."

"Stop calling me that, LORD Erestor. And what is wrong with the naked form? Eru did not cause us to be born with garments on."

"Just give him the pants!" shouted the wizard.

Both elves startled and stared out at Mithrandir's smoke-wreathed, livid, and exceedingly wrathful countenance glaring at them through the open window.

"Tad churlish, is he not?" whispered Erestor, turning his back to Legolas and shimmying out of the green silk garment. It did not occur to him that wiggling his rear end in that way was enticing the Wood Elf until a low soft cry met his ears. It was then that the idea of the cloth, still warm with the heat of his aroused flesh, sliding sinuously over the sensuous silvan's skin, entered the Noldo's mind and brought his stirring erection dramatically to attention. He gathered the robe close around him and handed over the pyjamas.

"Aye, I do not know what has got into him today. First he screams at me and now he takes us both to task," agreed Legolas. As he took the offered pants he could not resist a cursory inspection of Erestor's lower half to see if any useful information might reveal itself. Erestor had himself well covered, however, and with a mischievous grin Legolas crawled under the sheets completely, determined to dress himself without aid this time.

Erestor thought this was rather modest behaviour from someone so set on lauding the merits of public nudity but decided not to voice the observation lest the Wood Elf take up the challenge and boldly present himself as bare as Eru made him. While the Noldo was not so much against that, there was a wizard just outside on the veranda peering in, Dammand was hovering in the front hall, and Galion and Tulus had decided it was time to subject the first floor to a thorough scrubbing. Too much audience.

As Erestor pondered that, Legolas was undergoing a dilemma of his own. In the confined space created by the concealing covers, he was nearly overcome by the concentrated scent of the Noldo wafting from the borrowed pants. He donned the pyjamas; warm, slippery silk sliding up his thighs, tickling his balls, and gracing his inflamed cock with the barest and most intensely erotic friction he had ever known.

The notion that the soft fabric had only just been wrapped around the most intimate and private areas of the noble's physique, and was now caressing his excited organs in exactly the same manner, almost brought Legolas to ecstasy on the spot. There was bound to be some residue of Erestor's essence, his musk and sweat and hair, still attached to the fine material, mingling now with the slick secretion crowning Legolas' aching erection. He shuddered, unaware of the scarcely detectable priapic grunt of yearning that issued from his obscured form.

"Are you well?" whispered Erestor, unable to keep the grin out of his voice. It evolved into a complacent chuckle when the question initiated a whirlwind of angry motion as Legolas threw back the covers and bounded from the bed.

"I am perfect," quoth the silvan in an incongruously dangerous sounding sultry purr, blue eyes flashing and head high. The effect was somewhat spoiled when he wavered slightly and had to step sideways to keep from keeling over.

"Careful!" Erestor cautiously took hold of Legolas' elbow and held it.

"Hannad," Legolas decided he was not really angry over the jibe once Erestor's fingers were so ably wrapped around the crook of his arm. He sighed and smiled with genuine amusement, assessing their attire. It certainly looked like they had just spent the night together, as indeed they had, though the activities shared had been anything but bawdy. "Mithrandir awaits, shall we at last accede to his demands and venture outside?"

"As you wish, but it is rather comical to see him so flustered with impatience."

"Oh this is nothing. You should see him when Minya'dar and I start arguing over the implications for the Song of Iluvatar if one concedes the fractal dimension of the universe to be Pi."

"Ah. You realise that is utter nonsense you just spoke, do you not? Perhaps the poison is still affecting you."

"Nay, it is not. I agree the notion seems farfetched but there is some research to suggest that the degrees of variability in even the most complex system need not be many if said variability is incorporated into a simple set of rules that then iterates over time."

"Mmm."

"Stop showing off, Legolas," ordered Mithrandir. "You have more information than Erestor but that does not guarantee that you are either smarter or wiser. Glad you two finally decided to join me. Please be seated, get comfortable. On separate chairs, if you will."

The wizard watched from under his bunched, bushy, irascible brows as Erestor escorted Legolas to the same lounge he had occupied earlier and made certain he was comfortable before taking a chair himself. The Wood Elf looked a bit miffed to be snubbed so harshly but otherwise seemed much his usual self. The Noldo was hopelessly under Legolas' spell and probably would not be able to contribute much that did not bear on appreciative acknowledgement of various aspects of the archer's face and form. The Istar shifted his sight between both expectant faces and cleared his throat before taking a long draw on his pipe.

"Now then, a history lesson. The Valar decided to separate the Undying Lands from the rest of Arda and set an impenetrable boundary of confusion and misdirection around the ocean's coastlines. None can find their way here without the consent of the Valar…"

"Which is actually a rather unique construction," Legolas interrupted and addressed Erestor with excited exuberance, "employing the concept of variable polarity in the common water molecule as a sort of self-perpetuating nano-scale dynamo that, while individually is fairly useless, once synchronised across veritable billions of these molecules results in an effective screen that shields access to the regions of Aman from discovery.

"The barrier isn't actually a barrier at all, you see, but rather a nifty little dimensional twist…" Eager tones and expressive hand gestures. "…that allows a rather elegant parallelism to exist neatly concealed within a comparably minuscule and seemingly random portion of the ocean on the human side…" Full-blown, earnest intensity, all attention locked on the Noldo vintner.

"…which relocates at, again, seemingly random intervals that really are entirely predictable and thus not random at all but simply variable…" Complete immersion in the fascinating minutia and erroneous assumption of the universal character of said fascination. "…and the degrees of variability are not so hard to define once you understand what to look for. Only now some physicists over there have stumbled on it, and if we do not stop them the Blessed Realm is going to be overrun, a veritable tidal wave of humanity will sweep into Aman."

"Do you really think so?" Erestor was grinning in spite of himself, for though Legolas was raving like an elf who had made the error of drinking Dorwinion while inhaling some of Galadriel's more unusual varieties of incense, the Noldo found his enthusiasm completely endearing. "And did you just say 'isn't'?" He found it adorable for the former prince to use such a cute, Hobbity sort of colloquialism. Almost as entertaining as the swearing.

"Absolutely. And, yes."

"Indeed, it is highly probable unless we find a way to halt the progress of this research." growled Mithrandir. "Now if I may be permitted to continue?"

"Of course," Legolas conceded with a bow of his head.

"Hannad. I doubt that explanation, obscurely detailed as it was, proved very enlightening for you, Erestor. Let me summarise: the Valar have all of the Blessed Realm tucked into a five-hundred thousand square league triangle of open ocean near the eastern coast of one of the more populated continents in the Severed Realms, known as North America. This area itself does not shift around overly much; the portal within it does indeed change location within set geographic limits."

"They have tucked us hidden where? Mithrandir, with all respect, that makes less sense than Legolas' description of…of nano-scale whatever-they-are. There are three continental land masses and associated seas in Aman, comprising far more area than that meagre sum you mentioned. It is physically impossible." Erestor stated in exasperation.

"Well Mithrandir is just trying to explain it in a less exact manner, that is all. You see, the concept of space and area with respect to time is all relative to one's perspective. It is possible for the idea of 'placeness' to be coincident in time while divergent in dimensional occupancy for any given region. Conversely, the same area may be divergent and non-linear in regards to time while being congruously redundant respective to spatial dimensionallity." Legolas interjected.

"That does not help." Erestor intoned drily.

"History. Think of events happening in a sequence over time. What I did yesterday is in the past, correct? It was meant to happen, then it happened, now it is over and irreversible."

"Aye."

"It can be looked at differently, though. What happened yesterday is just one of many possible conjunctions of the given set of variables. In order for you and I to experience any one of those combinations, all the possible combinations must collapse into a single, observable series of events. You could not both remain by the pool painting and swim over to save me. Yet both those events were almost equally probable. As soon as you chose to swim, all the other possible sequences of events pursuant to remaining by the pool and painting were forced to acquiesce to the dominant or most probable outcome."

"Legolas, that is about as clear as the sky above Mt. Doom during Sauron's occupation of Mordor."

"It is like that when sailing to Aman." The silvan pressed on determinedly, ignoring the complaint. "Once the area in question is encountered, there are several possible outcomes with varying degrees of probability for achieving what we may call, for convenience of this discussion, actuality. One possibility is that the ship will become lost, sometimes for decades, another that it may be wrecked and sink beneath the water, or it may simply sail through this stretch of ocean without any difficulty, reaching a small archipelago, locally referred to as Bermuda, at its centre. A forth is that the ship will coincide with the portal and pass through the dimensional corkscrew to arrive in Aman. But to bring about that forth possibility, one with an incredibly high improbability factor, one must either know the portal exists and how to open it, have someone open it for you, or be elf-kind."

"Fine. Let me tell you what I gathered out of all that. There is a very small region of ocean in the Severed Realms in which is crammed three continents with abundant flora and fauna, five associated oceans also teeming with plant and animal life, all of the Valar, the Valarindi and the Ainur, and several million elves of various ethnic origins. Correct thus far?"

"No, that's completely wrong."

"Ah."

"Only the portal is concealed there. Aman is indeed huge, and that is why the dimensional phase shift is necessary. Otherwise everything would crowd together and that would not be pleasant. Well we are all together in the same place, actually; everything is just out of phase slightly. There is probably a rock or a tree where I am right now. In the Severed Realms, I mean."

"Yes, of course."

"Legolas you are just confusing the issue," complained the wizard. "If it helps you to think of Aman as being compressed into a tiny little area, Erestor, then just go with it."

"And this feat of being shrunk without anyone being aware of having been altered is made possible by encountering and passing through a sort of doorway within that small parcel of salty brine, only achievable if one has the instructions or is let in by someone else who has them, or is an elf."

"No one has been reduced in size, Erestor," Legolas giggled. "That would hardly be any fun! Think of it as a sort of displacement if that helps. Oh! I know! If I go stand behind a tree and you cannot see me there, I have not got smaller or disappeared, I am simply no longer within your range of visual perception. And, if you try to come around the tree and discover me, I can sneak to the opposite side and still remain beyond your field of view. I can even shift to hide behind a different tree if necessary, and thus remain concealed indefinitely! That is how the portal works.

"Now, to see how the phase shift works, let us take as our example you and I, seated as we are on separate chairs on this patio of your magnificent estate. Truly beautiful, what I have seen of it; I meant to say so before things began distracting me."

"Thank you, I am rather pleased with it. Shall I really have to give it up in order to get through this adventure?"

"Nay, not permanently, I am sure. Being a respected and esteemed entrepreneur is an excellent cover for an agent. But back to the example: you and I are both here in this place; we exist concurrently, yes?"

"Aye."

"Good. However, if you come over here and try to lie down on the chaise, you simply cannot do it."

"Well what do you mean? That is ridiculous, of course I can!"

"No, you can't"

"Thranduilion, this is pointless. We all know that I certainly can."

"Show me then."

"Fine. You shall have to move out of the way, pen-neth."

"Exactly! You've got it! You cannot lie on the chaise while I am lying on the chaise, unless you lie on top of me or I make room on the edge. We are here in the general region or area, at the same time; however, we cannot both occupy the exact same spatial location at precisely the same moment in time. That is how the dimensional displacement works. Aman and the Severed Realms are both here in the same spacial vicinity, but not in the exact same temporal moment. Its a fermi surface effect, actually."

Erestor raised his brows, for this at least made a mental image possible, though hiding continents behind water molecules was too much of a stretch for him and so he refused to allow the concept admittance, and the ridiculous explanation became believable and even probable. How it was done, this the Noldo despaired of comprehending. And he knew better than to take the bait and ask what a fermi surface was. Rogue Wood Elves and their confoundable magic.

"Good, that is much clearer. Now, do not bother trying to explain how the gateway operates; I do not want to hear anymore about the nano-scale whatever-it-is created by water droplets."

"Oh but that is the most interesting part! Do you know what the chemical composition of sea water is? Fascinating and absolutely perfect for manipulations such as this. Arda is really just functioning as a tremendous dirty raindrop nucleated around a highly differentiated chunk of ferro-magnesian silicates and assorted oxides," enthused Legolas.

"Yes, Legolas it is indeed an engrossing topic; however, we must press on and get to the matter at hand. Erestor understands enough about the portal's existence. Let us discuss why the barrier is now endangered." The Istar interrupted with an indulgent smile and leaned over to pat the pyjama clad knee.

He puffed out a beautiful smoke-ring stallion bearing an elven knight carrying a majestic banner that whipped in the breeze and sent this trotting over to Legolas, because he knew the archer absolutely loved horses above all of Yavanna's other quadrupeds, and because he wished to apologise for his bad temper. He was really rather pleased and impressed that the Wood Elf had made the confusing topic at least conceivable to the Noldo lord, and he wished he had not accused Legolas of being a show-off. Nothing wrong with loving the designs of Eru and seeking to understand them thusly.

"I am sorry for my ill-tempered outburst, Legolas, and for calling you Thranduilion so many times in one morning."

"Oh that is all right; it was only twice," Legolas smiled, too pleased over the opportunity to explain about the inter-dimensional corkscrew to be bothered by the affront any longer. He blew gently and sent the ephemeral horse and rider toward Erestor. "Very nice, Mithrandir, I wish the Hobbits were here to see that! And, I regret interrupting your narration. Please continue."

"Yes, what is this dire catastrophe and what is IMF?" Erestor prompted the wizard, waving his hand rapidly to get the dissipating fumes away from his nose.

"IMF stand for Istui Mornedhil Faradrim: Learned Dark-eleven Hunters. This is a league of elves operating to thwart the unethical manipulation of the barrier and unjustified interference in the Severed Realms," Legolas answered just as Mithrandir opened his mouth to speak. The irrepressible Wood Elf really could not help himself sometimes.

"Why moriquendi? Surely the Calaquendi are equally eager to keep the portal operational. Wait a minute; why must it be operational at all? There are no more elves left to cross over. Would it not be easier to simply lock it up and thus prevent anyone from getting through?" Erestor thought this an obvious solution and wondered that no one had tried to implement it.

"That is not desirable. I already explained that. The barrier is not really a physical barrier; the portal is not any sort of actual door one can shut. It is the nexus for a state of coincident yet divergent dimensional coexistence that is rather delicate, actually, and if it collapses then the separated dimensional realities will once more converge. We cannot be here in Aman and there in the Severed Realms at the same dimensional location and relative time frame. A choice has to be made. So if Aman is not here, then it has to be somewhere else, and since it is a part of Arda then it must shift relative to either time or place.

"If the Blessed Realm shifts in time, then it must either recede into the past, in which case we will get caught in a nasty loop, forced to return to some distant point of origin in order to make the now possible, or the now ceases to exist, yet we will never get beyond this specific point of nowness. Alternately, we could shift to some far distant part of the future, but that would mean everything in that yet-to-be time would not happen until the now events required to bring them about transpired, and again what we are would simply not be.

"We could shift in dimensional placement. That would necessitate dislocating something in the space available within the actual possibilities open to us, of which there are only a limited number given our physical properties. I do not feel it would be ethical to force the humans from their existence, even though they are rather linear, for actuating the reality of the Undying Lands within the dimensional space currently held by similar land masses in the Severed Realms would effectively destroy the mortals, for they lack the innate property of immortality and would not willingly shift into an alternate dimensional state."

"You cannot know that for certain. Has anyone made an attempt to confer with their leaders about any of this?" Erestor refused to allow the silvan's confusing explanation to take hold and doggedly stated his argument anew.

"Nay, Erestor, their leaders are not the sort we want to deal with!" Legolas was alarmed. "And I assure you none of them would agree to altering their state of existence within the Severed Realms."

"But how can you be sure if you have not asked them?"

"Others did ask, notably Finrod son of Finarfin son of Finwë, in depth and at length, long ago when humans and elf-kind cohabited the Severed Realms. In fact, the only alternate dimensional existence available to them is commonly called death. You do recollect the bitterness that arose among the Numenoreans about this issue and the whole concept of a hidden kingdom where everyone lives forever? The foolish creatures refuse to get it into their brains that immortality is not conferred by living in Aman; rather Aman exists to accommodate our immortality without interfering with their linearity."

"Oh, that. Quite."

"As for why moriquendi, well that is a touchy subject I am afraid. You, I believe, are moriquendi as am I? You were born in Middle-earth and ventured here only after the defeat of Sauron?"

"You know this is true."

"Those who have never dwelled in the Severed Realms do not view it the same way we do."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean they do not love and cherish it, hold fond memory of its lands and divers peoples. It was dangerous and often lethal, challenging and exhilarating, intriguing and ever new; for many minds worked upon it simultaneously and so many more variables were thus introduced, resulting in an increased degree of probability for surprising results. Not boring at all, at any rate."

"True, but what has that to do with anything?"

"The Vanyarin elves and those among the Noldor and Teleri that crossed over before the First Age began tend to view Middle-earth as either a trial best forgotten, a menace barely avoided, or a resource to be exploited. The Noldor tend to favour the first idea, the Teleri hold to the second notion, and the Vanyar maintain the last. And because the Vanyar are in positions of high estate among the Valar, they have almost as much power, at least when it comes to manipulating forces and contriving to enhance the probability factor of success for certain highly profitable dealings. To this end, they have engaged the compliance of specific, and significant, numbers of the Maiar."

"Are you trying to tell me the people of Inwë, noblest of all the High Elves, are involved in the affairs of the Severed Realms?" Erestor was rather incredulous.

"Indeed, Legolas speaks the truth," Mithrandir averred. "We have known of this lucrative yet vile enterprise for quite some time. We cannot hope to halt the activity entirely, yet there are some practices that simply cannot be allowed. We are having a very difficult time of it, for the humans are gaining knowledge at a rapid rate now and have devised methods of destroying all except the most resilient forms of life, are rapidly poisoning the air and waters of the world, depleting the abundant gifts of Ulmo, Yavanna, and Aulë much more quickly than they can be replenished, breeding like rabbits and warring one another in efforts to gain control of these diminishing resources. And overall is the incessant lust for power and its requisite commodity of wealth."

"I am afraid I fail to see the connection. What could the Vanyar want from the mortals in the Severed Realms?"

"It is not any physical thing like gold or jewels. They crave sport, much as the humans do. The High Elves pit the various peoples of the Severed Realms against one another and then sit back and watch, wagering huge sums, outrageous concessions, and sometimes immortal lives. They bet on the probability of the specific reactions the humans will exhibit in response to their niggling interference and what sort of events these will propagate. They are blatantly forcing all sorts of dire tragedies to come to pass and have done so all along, apparently. Civilisations have arisen and subsequently been crushed into ruin by these whims of the Vanyar. Yet now the humans are able to cause such wholesale destruction that the effects on the Blessed Realm cannot be assumed insignificant."

"And the Vanyar are the ones who instigated this unpleasant possibility," the wizard spoke in disgusted tones. "They have decided to play the death card anew, letting awareness of the barrier become a part of the mortals' thoughts again, after so long a stretch of ignorance. The current game is a sort of technological race to see which group of humans solves the puzzle first. The Vanyar do not believe that the humans' arrival here will result in the absolute destruction of our way of life. In fact, they are looking forward to the invasion, considering it will be enjoyable to war against the unsuspecting humans and massacre them."

"Nay! I cannot believe this!" Erestor protested vigourously.

"Not all the Vanyar wish this to happen; only a small fraction of the most powerful Lords and Ladies participate in the foul gaming. Among the majority, some that do secretly wish it imagine practising a sort of benevolent enslavement of the humans. Rather how they viewed the arrival of the silvan elves at the end of the Third Age. Well, we were not open to their ideas of hospitality and proved a disappointment to them in that regard. They think, should the humans find their way here, that they will have a grovelling, worshipful host of expendable beings to do their bidding and make life more fun. For them, of course," replied Legolas.

"Aye, there is talk that the notion of immortality is being whispered about as something conferrable upon mortals willing to go to extremes to earn it or grow bold enough to come and claim it. The Vanyar responsible for this reason that those who make it here will die without returning, since their life span is so short, and there will be an endless supply of new humans willing to take up the challenge under the false hope of being granted the boon of everlasting life," added Mithrandir.

"That is unconscionable conduct! Humans are the Second-born of Iluvatar and free in their own right! Eru will never allow such a thing to come to pass, and surely Manwë will prevent those elves from achieving such an evil end!"

"Manwë knows there are some who wish this, yet he has left the matter to Inwë as their King and Lord," the Istar groused. "That is the official version. Unofficially, IMF combats these invidious practices, venturing back through the portal to introduce unexpected variables into the Vanyar's carefully planned equations, thus altering the results and making the ventures unprofitable. However, an unfortunate side effect occurred. The Vanyar found our intervention heightened the excitement of the game, raising the improbability factor for their chosen outcome, and thus pushed both the betting and the scheming to new heights."

"Well then why do you not simply stop? Surely they will lose interest and everything will go back to normal," opined Erestor.

"This is normal, for the Vanyar," objected Legolas. "They have been doing this for thousands of years. And we did desist, for a long time, until the concept of the portal and its actual workings was leaked to some clever physicists by one of the Lords of the High Elves. Now we are facing an invasion of proportions even the Vanyar refuse to consider, for they believe that the humans are not a serious threat to elf-kind. What they really think is that watching the moriquendi and the humans battle for dominance of Aman will be amusing, and of course they will remain safe within their protected cities on Taniquetil, sniping at or capturing any foolish mortals bold enough to attempt to storm the mountain.

"On the human side, the competition to gain exclusive access to the portal has resulted in endeavours to create brand new ones completely beyond the knowledge of the Valar. These scientists are very intelligent and build on one another's efforts over time. Additionally, they are getting help from some of the Maiar, of whom Ringë is the most devious and cold-hearted. He has succumbed to the desire to master the Severed Realms, promising his human colleagues power and wealth and, above all else, immortality. Yet the constant interference from the Vanyarin gamers, and/or IMF agents, have thwarted his plots and plans time and again.

"He is now intent upon revenge, desiring to open all of the Blessed Realm to occupation by the mortal peoples of Arda. And he is smart enough to turn the gamers' scheming against them. The High Lords have forgot that these Maiar are not subject to them or to the same physical laws that hinder the humans. Their arrogance will be their undoing and also cause a terrible clash between our separate worlds, resulting in untold numbers of elves lost to Mandos and enslavement of the humans not destroyed outright." The archer concluded this grim account and no one had anything to say in response for awhile.

Erestor just stared from the wizard to the Wood Elf in disbelief. Whatever he might have conjectured regarding Legolas' clandestine activities, this seething undercurrent of gaming over human life and the fate of Arda was not on that list. The vintner could not imagine such a sport and had never heard anything of it, and this despite having many friends among the High Elves. That struck him as important, for if he was not informed, how would Legolas have come to know of it? He decided to ask, but once more the canny silvan was attuned to his thoughts and answered before the query passed the Noldo's lips.

"They have bet on things, or rather people and places, very important to me, twice. And not only that, I was the prize to be won by the victors. I have been told by a source I do not question that the wagering on these two egregious enterprises reached heights never matched before or since.

"The first game involved whether a certain region of forested land would be stripped of all its plant life or if the Wood Elves would intervene and end the deforestation of the remnant of Greenwood the Great. I was approached and told of the underhanded ploy by one of the players and informed that the entire matter was in my hands. Of course I immediately insisted for the destruction to be halted. The elf laughed and explained that I was granted a choice of three options and two of them could bring to fruition my stated goal.

"I could submit to sexual subjugation by the players, of which there were six elves and three Maiar." Legolas paused as Erestor uttered an appalled and incoherent exclamation of outraged disgust. "The length of time for this perverted enslavement was to be ten Valian years." (Note: one Valian year is equivalent to almost 9.6 solar years!) Legolas' cheeks flushed and his eyes grew cold with restrained wrath. "For each one of them individually, not concurrently.

"The second choice was to defy the Law of the Valar and enter into the Severed lands, there to overtake the region by force and repopulate the land with others of my people. Thus I could prevent the humans from having further access to the area, although much death and bloodshed would occur and the existence of a forgotten race would be revealed. I would of course have to continue the vigilant defence of the forest indefinitely, meaning separation from everyone I know and care for here, and would never be allowed back without facing the judgement of Manwë in any case.

"The third option was to do nothing and simply allow the trees to be destroyed, for the stewardship of Arda had passed from the hands of elf-kind at the end of the Third Age, by Iluvatar's Will." Legolas fell silent and gloomy then and refused to look at either of his companions.

"Legolas decided to try a different tactic altogether. He did indeed return to Middle-earth and go to the region in question, but he found an alternative the players had not chosen to offer. Thus he salvaged the trees and angered the authors of the scheme mightily, for they neither had the toy they desired for their use nor the exorbitant sum in mithril each had hoped to win. No one made any profit, for none had chosen to bet on the silvan's ingenuity and daring. He has been rather a target for them ever since, I am afraid," Mithrandir puffed in ill-humour on the long stem of his curved clay pipe and supplied the answer to the question Erestor had feared to ask.

"What happened when you went there?" asked the Noldo softly, getting up and sitting on the edge of the chaise just as Elrohir had done. He was beyond relieved to know Legolas had not become a sexual plaything for a coterie of Vanyarin and Istari reprobates.

"I found I was not the only one involved in defeating the ugly wager," Legolas looked up at the Lord of Meril Thaifn and smiled a little. "Minya'dar was already there and he had started a campaign among the humans to halt the logging. I was amazed and delighted to find so many mortals willing to expend their time, energy, and wealth to protect the forest from the few greedy men in charge of the operation.

"I helped as much as I could and did a great deal of public speaking and attended many incredibly long-winded and sometimes purposeless hearings before various members of the ruling parties, posing as an environmental geophysicist. Minya'dar played the part of an atmospheric scientist. He has a couple of excellent papers out; remind me and I shall send you copies.

"It took several years but it was worth the effort. The entire remaining tract of land that was once my home is now an area protected by the Laws of their government. Of course, such things are ephemeral and the Wood Elves maintain close watch over the forest, just to make sure nothing changes."

"That is good news!" Erestor reached for and squeezed the archer's hand. If he was surprised to learn of the former King's double life, he kept that to himself. "Is that when you and Oropher became close?"

"Nay, we have been mutually devoted since my landing at Eldamar. No one else from the family would take me in because of Gimli. Well, that was the excuse put forward; really, the bad feelings between me and my father started long before I ever met the dwarf. When I came here, he offered me a place at his side once more, but the price was unacceptable to me and I had to decline.

"Minya'dar learned of it and was upset over the whole idea of his grandson having to earn the right to claim ties to our family. He tried to set things straight, but Hiren Adar would not listen. Really, it was hopeless, for if he would never listen to my Naneth why should he listen to his father? Minya'dar welcomed both Gimli and me graciously, and between his home and Galadriel's, we were never without comfort."

"I am sorry; I did not know it was that bad," Erestor murmured, truly surprised over the depth of the break between Thranduil and his youngest child. He had known there was friction between them but had not thought the archer would be cut off from the rest of his family over it.

"That is all right; we have all agreed to keep the whole unpleasant business as quiet as possible, and Gimli was willing to be the focal point of the dissension for my sake. Perhaps I shall tell you the entire story someday, yet it is too long to begin it now, nor do I have the heart for it," Legolas said sombrely.

"Nay, do not trouble yourself, for you have had enough to contend with over recent days without recalling the strife of the past for my benefit." Erestor squeezed Legolas' hand and smiled warmly, pleased to feel and see the same in response. Still, his curiosity would not be silenced. "What was the second wager the Vanyar made concerning you?"

"Ai! The vile thieves!" Legolas' visage once more became livid with outraged shame. "It was the same group, of course, and I have such an abiding hatred for these elves now that I might easily become a kinslayer to rid the world of such dark and twisted minds! They stole Gimli's effects from my home and held them hostage, demanding my participation.

"They hid each of his three axes in different cities on separate continents within the Severed Realms. The dwarf's private journal they held for ransom, threatening to publish my dearest friend's most private thoughts for all to see and mock, if I refused to play their game. The terms for having the axes returned to me were nearly identical to those proposed for the previous escapade. To get the journal back, regardless of my success or failure in securing the weapons, I would have to submit to one week of whoring for them.

"Of course, these events are fairly recent, you understand, and Gimli had been buried over one-hundred years. They would not have dared otherwise, for Gimli would not hesitate to go immediately to Galadriel, calling their bluff. He would just have told them to go ahead and publish it all as he was not about to be shamed by the workings of his own brain, no matter who should know them. I am not so, however, and they knew I could not bear to have these things made public, especially since I am the subject of so many of the entries."

"As before, our resourceful friend stymied their indecent sport and avoided the carnal servitude they desired," the Maia appended. "He located the journal first, breaking into an impossibly complex vault considered absolutely impervious to anyone but its creator, and thus stumbled on the plans surrounding the portal and the desire for enslavement of the Second-born. He brought the documents straight to me, to my eternal gratitude. That was when Oropher and I decided we must initiate Legolas into IMF. He has become one of our top agents, naturally." He spoke with obvious pride and respect, which did much to lift the Wood Elf's dejected mood.

"I only found one axe, though," Legolas complained.

"And that brings us to the present once more," the wizard continued. "We learned of a second effort to produce a working prototype of the dimensional gateway and sent Legolas and his IM team into the Severed Realms to destroy the machine, any written or electronically stored specifications, and all research data pertaining to its creation."

"Wait, I thought Legolas said it is not like a physical door or wall," Erestor was fast becoming confused again.

"True, we have no need of a mechanical machine, because we are employing the natural forces available to us through the fermi surface interactions of all those nano-scale dynamos you do not wish to discuss. The humans have an equally difficult time getting their minds around such a notion, and they really love to make intricate and often dangerous machines that do the same thing but consume vast amounts of the standard sources of energy." Legolas smiled a sad little smile. It was really difficult, sometimes, trying to communicate with other people.

"Ah yes, the nano-dynamos made of water," Erestor repeated as he nodded his head, not comprehending it in the least.

"Exactly so," agreed Olórin. "Thus, the scientists working on the project were to be given a rather strong dousing in a certain enchanted body of water, hindering their recollection and reproduction of the theories and models governing the portal's workings. That tends to set their efforts back considerably."

"Do you mean to say that after all this time the old Enchanted River still exists and still renders loss of memory to any submerged in its depths?" Erestor could not help interrupting, astonished this might be possible, so long after the time of the elves had ended.

"Nay, Thranduil and Celeborn lifted the spell after the fall of Sauron. However, anyone with the right knowledge can place such an enchantment upon any body of water. I usually just fill up the bathtub and ask them to get in. Has not failed yet, and afterwards you just pull the plug and it all drains away into the sewers," said Legolas with a shrug.

"What, you tell them to go take a bath and they just do so? Do they never demand to know what you are doing in their homes in the first place?"

"Nay, they invite me in. I just have a way with people," Legolas shrugged again as a slight rise in colour stained his cheeks and he flicked a contritely embarrassed sidelong look at his long-cherished crush.

Erestor could guess what that way might be and a powerful surge of jealousy raced through every blood vessel, capillary and nerve of his body. He refrained from comment, however, recalling how badly things had gone on this particular jaunt into the Severed Realms.

"Something went wrong this time, and that is what I need you to tell me about now, Legolas," the Maia quietly mimicked the Noldo's thoughts.

"Aye, terribly wrong. As I said, there was another IM team there, and the counter-agent is none other than Lady Celebrian." spoke the silvan.

"What?" Erestor rocketed from his place at the woodland warrior's side in shocked dismay. "You must be mistaken! I have known Celebrian since she was a mere elfling; there is not a malicious bone in her body!"

"I did not say she is malicious! However, she has been convinced by one of the Maiar involved that I am on the wrong side. She does not know how much Ringë wants me to suffer. He, of course, is among the principles who enjoy playing so freely with my life and wagering for my body. I am certain Celebrian knows nothing about that." Legolas assured the incensed Noldo fervently.

"That is most disturbing," Mithrandir sighed and rubbed his forehead wearily, feeling the headache returning. "And I am glad my foresight warned me not to take you to Elrond. We are back to being short on time once more, for I am certain she is there and will inform her cohorts of your escape."

"Nay, if I recall correctly, she is occupied in the gardens of Lorien with Estë and shall be away several months," corrected Erestor.

"That is her cover, Erestor," sighed Legolas. "I am sure if you check you will discover she arrived home yesterday or the day before that."

"Yes, we cannot count on her silence; nonetheless, her involvement may prove beneficial," Olórin had a calculating expression in his penetrating black eyes. "What of the plans, were you able to destroy them?"

"There were none; it was all a ruse. The location we obtained, and at such a high price in human life and elven blood that I did not doubt its verity, was incorrect. Ringë devised the entire scenario for the purpose of trapping me and my cohorts. This would expose my activities to the public at large here in Aman, thanks to Celebrian and her counter-IM team, forcing me to face Manwë's judgement. The Vanyarin gamers want to see me condemned and confined to Lorien or Mandos to undergo some sort of treatment designed to cure me of such destructive and rebellious outbursts.

"However, in his desire to increase the level of my torment, and because he never planned for me to actually escape his clutches, Ringë did reveal that an important breakthrough has occurred. The findings of several experiments carried out independently at two separate universities in the United States, California Institute of Technology and the University of Virginia in Charlottesville, are now in his possession. The entire body of work has been collected and suppressed from publication. Ringë has them locked away in two places: his private vault and a safety deposit box in the main branch of one of the most highly respected and well guarded financial institutions in that nation, located on the island of Manhattan off the eastern coast of North America."

"What of the scientists involved? Where do they stand in this mess?" queried the wizard.

"As always, there is a split on either side. Some just want to understand and are intrigued by the possibility the portal represents, others want to profit from it. They are currently not in any harm, but I suspect that will change rather quickly for those unwilling to join forces with Ringë."

"How would any human find such a proposition appealing? Ringë does not strike me as the persuasive sort and his outward form is quite frightening. Surely these people can sense the danger he represents," Erestor stated, forgetting how readily he had fallen into agreement with the dreadful sea spirit.

"Fear and power are strong motivators," Legolas said, shuddering. "Besides, Ringë only assumes that particular outward design for my benefit. It was purely accidental that you were there to witness it. To everyone else, he appears as any normal human male of twenty-five. It is a false representation and the one you saw is true. He is brutal and sadistic; the best a human can hope for, should one oppose him, is death.

"When I realised it was a trap, I tried to get my people out and failed. It was cleverly done and I was shocked by the identity of the counter-agent. Everything was arranged to make us believe we were in control of the situation, and it was only Celebrian's presence that gave the plot away. She went against orders to reveal herself, hoping to convince us to surrender quietly.

"Of course, she thought I was the renegade and told me to accept my capture in order to prevent any loss of life. She did not know Ringë had already had my human confederates murdered and was planning to torture me and my elven comrades just for the pleasure of it. We did not have any information that would be useful to him, you see, for we had come to seek that which he already possesses."

"She just left you in that fiend's hands?" Erestor was heart broken to hear of the genteel Lady's involvement.

"Aye, she thinks I am to be censured for interfering in the affairs of men, knowing nothing about the Vanyar's gaming and Ringë's cruelty. IMF has many divisions and no one knows all the missions underway at any given time, except the director."

"Who is that?"

"Thingol, of course! And Melian. Without her assistance, and Mithrandir's, we would have little support among the Valar. We can depend on the aid of Tulkas, Oromë, and Yavanna. As it is, none of them can acknowledge our activity without exposing our goals to Manwë. Some agents think he knows but stays out of it. Personally, I agree; he would not care even if he did know."

"Legolas! That is highly inappropriate!" admonished Mithrandir, feeling the need to defend his mentor for loyalty's sake.

"I am sorry, Mithrandir, but it is the truth. He and Varda never took much notice of what was happening on Middle-earth even when the elves were there. After the War of Wrath, no more was seen of the Powers among the lands of Arda. Not until five Istari showed up late in the Third Age, that is, and please excuse my bluntness and omit yourself, but what did the Istari actually accomplish? Four Hobbits, a pitifully small handful of assorted humans, one dwarf, one wizard, and three elves had to deal with it. What makes you think Manwë would change his ways now? Nay, he does not consider that humans can gain sufficient knowledge to force through the barrier, nor does Ulmo.

"And, Ossë and Ringë play upon Ulmo's fury over the humans' defilement of his oceans and rivers. He tends to look the other way if those two convince him they are acting to prevent further abuses upon the waters, no matter how unsavoury their proposals are. He goes less and less beyond the boundary, trusting his lieutenants to preserve the living things in the seas and stop the poisonous water from reaching Aman's shores.

"It has not occurred to him that constant immersion within those polluted waters, unappreciated, virtually abandoned, struggling to salvage the environment only to be censured for failing to rectify the harm the humans cause, has rather turned those Ainur into resentful adversaries of the Valar. Their contention, and Ossë's justification, is that humans should be removed from stewardship, put under their control, reduced to the status of kept pets, no longer autonomous.

"I, too, feel the humans have failed in their duty and exploited the magnificent gifts provided by Ulmo, Yavanna, and Aulë. Still I would not want to make them into slaves because of it. In fact, I feel the continuous interfering by the Vanyar has precipitated many of the current problems. Left to mature naturally, the humans would learn how to care for their world or simply die out. Yet I have no wish for them to become extinct either, for there are many worthy spirits among them, even now.

"I would prefer to try and educate them, teach them about the long history of living things that preceded their ascension to mastery, and show them that they are not alone. I do not want them to discover the Undying Lands and invade us, but neither do I wish for them to remain ignorant of our existence. It will become known soon enough, by our reckoning, for the mortals are persistent in seeking answers to mysteries. The only way to stop their technological advancement is to destroy the current civilisation. The Vanyar have done it before, but at this time will not do so for they wish to enjoy the entertainment the impending cataclysm promises too provide."

Upon finishing this long oration Legolas lapsed into melancholy silence, waiting to hear Mithrandir's rebuttal. But the wizard remained silent and this was perhaps more indicative of the silvan's eloquence than any audible agreement would be.

Erestor was still trying to process all the information and found it all an unbearable assault upon his vision of reality. He had never considered the High Elves and the Istari susceptible to such warped and wayward moral lapses, at least not since the defeat of Sauron. Yet this barbaric form of sport was as near to evil as anything he had ever observed in his numerous years of life, and he was sorrowful to know that Melkor's influence had not been undone after all, but remained an ever-evolving virus that defied eradication.

TBC