Okay, I skewed timelines here and there for the sake of the plot. I tried to clarify as much of it as I could in this chapter. Basically, Dawn came to live with Angel at the end of Season 5 when Buffy died. I did keep some storylines that happened in Buffy after Season 5 that I just loved too much to not mention, like Dawn’s kidnapping by Sweet. I’m just assuming that happened in LA rather than Sunnydale. If it sounds like it was just thrown in, it was. It’ll help if you just kind of go with it, Like Aragorn just accepting the television.
Love you guys! Big update here!! The reviews are keeping me going and are keeping me updating faster!
Angel and Lindsey sat at Caritas. Lindsey casually drank a beer while Angel glared at him intensely. He hated how casual the lawyer was: his laid-back demeanor with his rolled up sleeves and unbuttoned collar. Why wasn’t he beating him up? He watched as Lindsey slouched back as he drank as if he had not a care in the world.
“I asked for dinner and you settle at drinks? What a cheap date.”
“Cut the crap Lindsey. What do you know about Dawn?” Lindsey turned calm for a moment.
“Well, I guess it’s too late to just stay a loyal employee now,” he said. “I’d been hiding from Wolfram and Hart for about a year after I left. I traveled anywhere I could. Nepal, Japan, Singapore.” A short pause. A sigh of resignation. Angel remained grudgingly patient as the evil-lawyer… or ex-evil-lawyer (Angel didn’t really care) came to terms with his conscience. “A few months ago, they found me, and rather than try to kill me, they offered me a higher position than I had.”
“As interesting as this story is, Linds,” Angel started bitingly.
“There were terms,” Lindsey cut in sharply, “to my reinstatement. Somehow the partners knew we had made amends before I left town. They also learned while I was gone you had adopted a girl six months before I left.”
“While you were gone?” Angel asked. “You met Dawn way before you bailed, unfortunately, before you even thought about leaving. You mean to tell me you neglected to spread that little bit of information while you were working there?” Lindsey sighed and remained quiet for a moment.
“I liked Dawn,” he said. “She was a smart kid. I’d never do anything to get her hurt. It was inevitable that they would find out about her; but I didn’t want to be the one that told them.” Angel remained quiet, not willing to actually thank him for keeping his mouth shut, but grateful all the same.
“How did they find out about her?”
“She lives with you Angel, she lives in LA. And they have sources all over the city; it was only a matter of time.” Angel nodded.
“And what do you have to do with all this?”
“I was supposed to lure you into my confidences, what with us being friends and all…” Angel growled. “And was supposed to use it to get to the girl.”
“What do they want to do to her?”
“They originally wanted to use her to blackmail you to get you on their side,” the lawyer said. “But now they know that would be a waste.”
“How’s that?” Angel asked, not really wanting to hear.
“Almost a month ago, they were alerted about an opening from another dimension: one Wolfram and Hart doesn’t have access to. A source that had been monitoring Dawn watched it open right where her blood had been spilled. They collected it, and brought it back to analyze it.”
“Yeah?” Angel said, still not wanting to listen.
“Well, now the Partners know that Dawn can cause an apocalypse all by her lonesome. With her being the…” he paused mock-dramatically… “You-know-what and all.”
“Someone already tried that,” Angel said matter-of-factly. “She can’t just be cut at the alignment anymore…”
“No, she’s more in control of it now. She can open portals. She can open them all at one time, if she were trained.”
“And why would she ever do that?”
“If her mind was possessed, it wouldn’t be her doing it, which is exactly, what Wolfram and Hart want this dream demon for-”
“Ugh, why are you telling me this,” Angel cut off. “Why? You’re blowing your one shot to not be on the run from the big W-R-H to help me? What’s in this for you?”
“It’s not you I’m trying to save, Hair-gel boy,” Lindsey retorted. “And I have my reasons.”
“What, Dawn? You’re risking your life to save Dawn?” Lindsey just took another drink. “You don’t know anything about her.”
“I knew I didn’t want a 15 year old kid killed when I can stop it,” he said defensively. “And my hankering for apocalypses has been tapered a bit as well.” They sat in a moment of silence for a while. Angel stared at Lindsey until Lindsey looked back up at him, at which point they both looked away from each other annoyed.
“How is she?” Lindsey ventured. Angel didn’t understand the question for a second.
“No, your mom. Yes, Dawn. Is she in school and everything?” Angel eyed him. Lindsey held his hands up defensively. “I’m just asking.” Angel was ready to take a break from bantering. If what he said was true, the lawyer just screwed himself both professionally and safety-wise; he figured he could spare a few moments of friendly conversation.
“Yeah. She’s out for the summer. She just finished her first year of high-school. She helps us with our cases right now.” Lindsey nodded.
“I heard you have a son now.”
“Doesn’t surprise me.”
“He was kidnapped and came back older?” Angel didn’t know why he was questioning about the welfare of his family; but again, conceded the companionable chat.
“Yeah, he came back 17 a while ago. He graduates next year.”
“Still want to kill you?”
“Only when I tell him to do his homework.” Lindsey smirked.
“And everyone else?” Angel scoffed, irritated.
“Everyone’s fine,” Angel said, getting uncomfortable, and decided to project it through irritation. “Fred and Wesley are together, Gunn’s still likes kicking ass, Cordelia’s still bugging me about my fashion, and Lorne’s probably here right now, what’s with the questions?”
“Hey, I’m just trying to be friends,” Lindsey defended.
“WHY?” Angel demanded. “You hate me, I hate you, and that’s how it works.” Lindsey gritted his teeth.
“Well, considering my chances of going back to Wolfram and Hart are now officially reduced to zero, I was hoping I could stay with you guys.” Angel couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“What happened to you in Nepal??” Lindsey was embarrassed enough.
“What are you talking about?”
“You go soul searching for one year and you come back want to jump ship from evil-doing after accepting your old job back?”
“I accepted the job so I could find out what they knew when they told me they were targeting the kid,” Lindsey nearly shouted. He looked around, noticing some demons were lazily interested in their argument. He lowered his voice, hoping no one from Wolfram and Hart heard him, not that it mattered. They would find out. Angel seemed to take the hint as well. “I was trying to figure out how to contact you with raising suspicion, but you got to me first.”
“I was wondering why it was so easy to get into your office. Expecting me? And now? How do I know this isn’t a plan to just get close to me and gain my ‘confidence’?”
“Look, I told you what I know; and I’m as good as dead now. I don’t want to die, but I don’t want to live a life where I can’t even look myself in the mirror. I can help you with knowledge that I have about Wolfram and Hart, or I can wait to be killed. Doesn’t really matter to me anymore.” Angel leaned back in his chair, studying him.
“Never pegged you for the looking-for-redemption type, MacDonald. You almost have me convinced.” Lindsey didn’t say anything, just waved for another beer.
“You can stay with us,” Angel said after a while. Lindsey raised his eyes up from his empty bottle to look at him. “Hell, if you really did what I just think you did, you are royally screwed.” Lindsey nodded silently.
“But I’m going to be watching you. One wrong move, and I’ll kill you myself.” Lindsey smirked as a waitress put another beer in front of him.
“I expected no less.”
“And you’ll sing for Lorne.”
“Always willing to put you to shame, Barry.”
“I can’t help it if I jump away when I drop it. I don’t want it landing on my foot.”
“Then you must take care to not drop it, Lady Dawn.”
“But when I swing it, it kind of starts going off on its own.”
“Then you make sure to keep both hands to control it until you build up the strength in you arms. You really must be trying and not pausing before you complete your move.”
“But you’re standing really close. What if I accidentally hit you or something?”
“I will back away if it makes you more comfortable. Keep your form.” Legolas watched from several feet back as the teenager attempted to throw the axe that had been hanging on her wall with somewhat controlled movements. Repetition was what he said would be favorable to her so that the movement came naturally to her. She had insisted that it was called “wax on, wax off,” though he had not a clue what that meant. While the bow was his preferred weapon, he did possess some skill with the instrument. His initial assessment of her raw physical advantages was correct. She was very quick and light on her feet, thought untrained. Her sight and hearing was also keener than he had seen on most humans.
He would have preferred a different weapon for her than the battle axe. She could have done well with a lighter sword or a bow even. She had almost taken him up on an attempt at archery. When he held his bow out for her to take hold of, however, she had refused, insisting that it was too pretty and she would break it. That had turned into her wanting to see *his* skills with the bow. That had taken them up to the roof of the Hyperion to see what far off objects he could hit. He had to admit he enjoyed her excited laughter whenever he hit something exceptionally far away. Afterwards she had been insistent on the battle axe, if he were going to train her at all.
Wesley, Aragorn, and Gandalf at that point came in to see the fifteen year old practicing with the battle axe. They had watched the interaction between her and Legolas that had been going on all day. After Dawn had found almost one-hundred pages of texts con Middle-earth, she had handed it over to the three of them for translation, ready for a well-deserved break. That break turned into practicing for hours with battle axes with the help of the until then virtually mute companion of Aragorn and Gandalf.
“Huh-” Legolas easily moved out of the path of the axe that was then sliding across the floor, never happier that he also was light on his feet. Dawn quickly turned in horror as the weapon that slipped out of her hand spun away and crashed into the wall. The elf smirked.
“I think that will be enough practice for the night,” he stated. Dawn sighed, happy that he wasn’t too angry at her. A move like that would have had Angel even more convince that she should be training.
“What?” she said, turning back to Wesley.
“There was another language in the text that you found. Now it’s just a matter of translating this.”
“Oh, goodie,” she said, hopping up on the counter and swiping a page from his hand. “What language?”
“It is the tongue of an enemy from our world,” Gandalf said. Aragorn looked toward Legolas, who gave a knowing nod and headed upstairs, taking the discarded axe with him. Wesley and Dawn looked up questioningly as he left.
“Elves react badly to this language,” Aragorn explained.
“Oh,” Dawn said. “Okay. So what do you have so far?”
“Aragorn says that there is a great deal in these pages concerning the line of Isildur and the Undomiel.”
“Undomiel?” Dawn questioned. She paused, closing her eyes, scanning her memory for that word.
“That’s your wife,” she said, opening her eyes. “Right? The Evenstar?”
“Yes,” Aragorn confirmed. He recalled telling her a great deal about his wife before.
“Who’s Isildur?” she asked.
“An ancestor of mine,” the king replied. Dawn’s eyes lit up with excitement.
“That’s great!’ she said enthusiastically. “What does it say?”
“We haven’t translated any actual prophecies yet. We’ve mainly been working on a skeleton of the language to make translation easier for the two of us.”
“Awesomeness,” she said, grabbing some of the translation papers.
“It’s called Black Speech. It is spoken only by the servants of a land called Mordor in their world. It was rarely spoken. It apparently attracted the attention of an evil one called Sauron.”
“Sauron? The big bad?”
“From what I can tell, he is very close to what we would call and Old One.” Dawn grimaced. “The Old Ones began in our dimension, but from what they’ve told me,” he nodded to Aragorn and Gandalf, “he’s about on par with their power.” Dawn nodded.
“Well, is it safe to be talking it now? Even if he’s… all… collaps-yed?”
“Only the discomfort of hearing it remains.”
“Okay,” she said. “Why would something concerning you daughter be in this language?”
“The Monks of Dagon were connected to Middle-earth.” Dawn frowned.
“We’re not sure. There are dozens of memoirs of the Order that go back thousands of years in their world. They must have been connected to Mordor or Sauron for them to be writing in this. I thought that their only purpose was to protect the Key, but then they would have no reason to be in their dimen-” Mid-sentence Wesley looked up from the printed pages to see Dawn’s eyes bugging at him.
“What is the Key?” Gandalf asked, quite curious. It was then that Wesley realized that he had said a little more than Dawn would have liked.
“It… um…” he started. “It was-”
“It was just something we had to deal with a few years ago,” Dawn cut in. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“Well, could someone still be looking for it?” Aragorn asked. “Maybe they came to my world to find it and mistook my daughter-”
“It’s not her, alright?” she said sharply, jumping off the counter and running up to her room.
Aragorn and Gandalf stood shocked. Wesley was less so, merely clenching his eyelids shut waiting for her door to slam. It did. He opened his eyes so the two next to him.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “She’s a little sensitive this time of year. In a few days it will be exactly two years since her sister died. Certain things… set her off. I apologize. She doesn’t mean any harm. She’ll be contrite enough tomorrow.” The two seemed to accept that, giving one final glance up to where the girl’s room would be. At that point, Cordelia, Fred, and Connor came in, bags in hand.
“Hey!” Fred nearly exclaimed, skipping over to Wesley to give him a light kiss.
“You know I always do,” he said, his tenseness about the unpleasant episode melting. “Good lord you were out late. It’s almost three in the morning.”
“Well we had a lot to do. We got the party stuff, saw a movie…”
“They had a film noir all night marathon at the drive in,” Connor said happily.
“We couldn’t disappoint the young fellow,” Fred said, imitating her lover’s accent. Wesley smiled.
“Have I told you how much I love you lately?”
“Not in…” Fred looked at her watch “ten hours,” she finished, pouting.
“Shame,” Wesley said.
“Okay, lovebirds,” Cordy said in mock annoyance. “We have the stuff for the part-tay.”
“Party?” Aragorn asked.
“It’s my ‘Welcome-back-from-Hell-Anniversary,” Connor said smugly. He didn’t really care what the party was for, except that it was focused on him. One thing that Connor liked nowadays was attention.
“Angel thinks celebrating good things… a lot… will hopefully even out the weirdness in the kids’ lives and reduce the amount of therapy they’ll need by a couple years. So we celebrate just about everything, including when people return from hell dimensions,” Cordy explained.
“It was actually about the time you guys came,” Connor said. “We thought we’d postpone it until you left, but it’s been a month, so…”
“Don’t worry. You’re we got plenty of stuff for three extra people. Besides, Dawnie told me we had a breakthrough on research before she left and she started swinging axes with the hottie.” Cordelia went about getting her supplies out of their bags while the rest of the people stared at her, thankful that neither Aragorn nor Gandalf had learned what ‘hottie’ meant.
“So,” Fred interjected nervously before they could ask, “What did you guys find. Anything I can help with?”
“Yes,” Wesley said, selecting a smaller stack of papers from the bunch, approaching her. “I think we found some pages on Middle-earth place in the universe in comparison to ours. Do you think you can calculate the time differentiation from this?” Fred looked at the collection of maps and stellar co ordinations. She looked back up at him and smiled.
“What do think, she said, leaning closer to him. Wesley smirked again.
“I think there are benefits to dating a brilliant physicist,” he mumbled, lowering his head to kiss her.
“Ugh,” Connor said, helping Cordelia unload the stuff for the party. “Get a room. We’re in a hotel.” The moment broken, Fred giggled nervously.
“I’ll just, start working on this,” she said, taking up to their room. Wesley was slightly blushed, remembering his behavior was not becoming of a gentleman, not that most of his behavior did, now that he thought about it.
“We can continue translating. The sooner we figure this out the sooner we’ll find your daughter.” The three of them headed for his office before Cordelia spoke up.
“Hey. Where’s is everyone else?” Wesley paused to answer her.
“Dawn is in her room, Gunn went with Lorne to inquire about this dream demon that’s probably here now, and Angel… is…”
“Right here.” Aragorn and Gandalf, along with the rest of the room, turned to see the leader of the group with a man they had not met before coming in the door.
“Hey!” Cordelia exclaimed. “I thought you were evil.”
“And I thought you were brunette,” Lindsey retorted, stepping up.
“You *just* got here,” Angel said, “and you’ve already started.”
“Right, sorry,” he said, not sounding very apologetic.
“Everyone for those of you who don’t know, this is Lindsey,” Angel announced, “and Lindsey, sadly, will be staying with us for a while.”
“Why?” Cordelia asked.
“Not relevant. Dawn’s in her room I heard? Lorne’s out?”
“Yes,” Wesley said, “What’s going on?”
“In a nutshell, Dawn’s in danger. She needs to be watched at all times.”
“Why?” Connor asked.
“Wolfram and Hart knows what she is.” Angel paused, looking at Aragorn and Gandalf, deciding to not speak in any more detail about what Dawn was. “They hired this dream demon that’s in LA now to try to get control of her.”
“For what?” Connor asked.
“What they always want,” Lindsey said. “To end the world.”
“And you’re a Wolfram and Hart employee who has been brought here where Dawn is why?” Cordelia question sharply.
“He’s the one who told me,” Angel said. “And Wolfram and Hart’s probably going to be trying to kill him any minute now. Cordy?”
“Get Lorne on the phone. I need him to start working on a barrier spell for the hotel. Connor?”
“I want you to stay with Dawn at all times. Don’t leave her side.” Connor nodded, heading up the stairs, thoughts of his party forgotten. He looked at everyone else. “What are you guys doing?
“We’re translating. Dawn found a lot of text this morning about their world.” Angel nodded.
“Good. There’s nothing much else we can do except wait for this thing to show itself.” Wesley nodded as the he, Aragorn, and Gandalf made their way to his office. Angel sat down on the couch in the lobby as Connor and Legolas came back down the stairs.
“Dawn’s door is locked.”
“Is she actually in the room?” Angel asked, panicking.
“Yeah, we can hear her,” Connor said.
“It sounds like she’s sleeping,” Legolas added. Angel frowned.
“Oh right, elves have super senses,” Angel said.
“Also crying,” Connor said. “Did she watch Braveheart or something?” At that point, Wesley poked his head out of the office.
“We had a bit of an episode earlier,” Wesley said, “should probably leaver her alone for a while.” He returned his head to the office.
“Oh God,” Angel said. “Look, I have a favor to ask,” he said to Legolas as he started walking towards the stairs, Legolas and Connor following him. “I know you’re not from this world and all, but right now, we’re in the middle of a Def Con 2 right now. Dawn is a very special girl and it’s very important to us that nothing happens to her or that no one gets her, especially with her history of kidnappings. So if you’re as skilled at fighting as I’ve seen and heard about, could you just help Connor out in making sure not big ugly demons attack her or whatever bad thing that could happen?”
“Our debt to you is great. I would gladly offer my bow to your service and to the safety of Lady Dawn.”
“Thanks,” Angel said, “Appreciated.”
“We’ll just stay in the room between our bedrooms to make sure she doesn’t go anywhere,” Conner said as they headed up the stairs.
A day passed. And it was the longest day in the world. For everyone.
No one said much of anything. Lindsey kept to himself, not feeling exactly comfortable in a hotel full of people that were once his enemies. He kept most of his conversation only with Angel and Lorne occasionally, remaining quiet most of the other time. Lorne had listened to him sing, much to Cordelia’s pleasure. It seemed to lessen her apprehension about having him in the hotel. His voice was hard to not love. Especially since Lorne confirmed that Lindsey had turned a new leaf. Gunn was the main guy scouting the city for any demon activity.
Wesley, Gandalf, and Aragorn continued translating for the eighteenth straight hours as Fred continued to calculate any time difference between the two worlds. Connor and Legolas remained awake in the room next to Dawn’s. It gave the two time to actually get to know each other. Battle was their common ground, and the passed many of the hours sharing stories and methods of attack.
Aragorn rubbed his eyes.
“What is the hour?” he asked. Wesley looked at the clock.
“It’s nine o’clock.”
“There is so much about this Key,” Gandalf said, taking a puff on his pipe. I cannot see how it cannot be relevant to Middle-earth.” Wesley froze momentarily.
“Why don’t you two take a break?” The two of them looked at him. “We haven’t slept in almost two day. I’ll keep translating this. I think we’re close. Please, get some sleep.”
“If we’re close,” Aragorn said, “Then I should not stop.”
“If you’re not fully awake, you might miss something. I’m used to staying up all night.” Aragorn conceded, rising from his chair. Wesley looked at Gandalf, who remained seated. The wizard smiled.
“I too, am not tired. Go and find rest Aragorn.” The king nodded, heading up the stairs. On his way to his room, he passed by the room in which Connor and Legolas were staying. The two of them were sitting in small chairs that sat low to the ground, each with a small black thing in their hands. Aragorn stared at his friend of many years as the elf was utterly enthralled in some for of simulated battle on the television that he was playing with Connor. The two of them looked up at Aragorn in the doorway, though Legolas turned his eyes back to the screen first.
“Hey,” Connor greeted. “Just playing some Halo. How research?” A small explosion sound resound from the television. Connor whipped his head back to the screen. “HEY! I wasn’t looking!” Legolas smirked.
“How is Dawn?” Aragorn asked.
“She hasn’t come out. Still in there, though. She unlocked her door early this morning. I told her what’s going on. Didn’t say anything.” Aragorn nodded, leaving the two of them to their game, still not believing the Elf of over 2000 years was playing that thing. He passed by Dawn’s door in the hallway, pausing in front of it. Unable to resist, he knocked quietly. No answer. He knocked again.
“Dawn? It’s is Aragorn. May I come in?” There was silence.
“It’s open,” he heard her say weakly. If he had not spent so many years as a ranger, he would not have been able to hear it. He took that as her consent for him to go in.
She lay on her bed on her side, her back to him. He could only see her outline by the moonlight coming from her window.
“Flip that switch on the right,” she said. He did as he was asked, and a lamp filled the room with a sufficient amount of light. Aragorn was taken aback by the mess. Clothes were scattered everywhere. Bottles of water, notebooks, pens, and books were strewn in various areas. She didn’t move.
“Dawn,” he began. “I apologize if my questioning upset you. I did not realize the severity of my inquiries. I know you must have good reasoning for not wanting to talk of it.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said weakly. Quickly. “I sorry I snapped.” The conversation, he supposed, could have ended there; but he was not satisfied.
“A great danger has been presented here,” he continued, approaching closer to where she lay.
“Connor told me.” She sniffled.
“Could you look at me?” he asked.
“No,” she said quietly.
“I am not angry with you,” he assured her.
“Then why will you not you look at me?”
“No, I really can’t,” she insisted. Aragorn became even more confused. Putting a hand on her should and gently turning her over. Her arms did not move, and she ended up laying on them. She groaned.
“I can’t move my arms”
“Legolas and I were practicing with the axe all day yesterday. He tried to tell me to take a break, but I wouldn’t listen, and now my arms really hurt. I can’t move. Can you get them out from under me?” Her whines of discomfort became a little more audible and Aragorn couldn’t help chuckling to himself as he gently pulled her arms out from under her body.
“Is this why you’ve lain abed all day?”
“That’s pretty much it,” she huffed, relieved to be in a more comfortable position. “You can sit down. How has translation been?” Aragorn took a seat in the chair next to her bed.
“Oh, we have gotten through quite a bit of the material. Master Wesley thinks that we are close to something.” Dawn nodded.
“Wesley is usually the pessimist. If he said that, we probably are close.” Aragorn smiled.
“Thank you,” he said, rising. “Well, I’ll leave you to rest some more. You should be better tomorrow.” Dawn smiled.
“Thanks, Aragorn,” she said. “For not being mad at me for being all one with the moodiness.”
“Let it trouble you no more.” He turned to leave.
“Aragorn?” He paused, turning back around.
“Could you pull that blanket down there up? I’m kind of cold.” He smiled again, doing as she asked. He grabbed a very small, worn, dark blue, silky blanket and pulled it over her still form. He froze as the design on it became clear as the blanket stretched over Dawn.
“Thanks,” she said. He didn’t hear her.
Delicately sewn on the entire expanse of the material that did not even reach Dawn’s feet was White Tree of Gondor. The same symbol that was etched on the armor of every single one of his soldiers, even his own. The same symbol that Arwen had sewn onto blue silk when she was pregnant with Arien. It was for blanket Arien was wrapped when she was kidnapped.
Which was now covering up Dawn Summers of Los Angeles.
“Yeah, I know it’s really small,” Dawn said, looking down at the blanket, assuming that’s why he was staring at it. “But I like sleeping with it. It’s the one thing I’ve got from my birth parents. My mom told me I was wrapped in it when the monks gave me to her. Monks aren’t known for their luxurious lifestyle, so I doubt they’d have had a blanket like this laying around. So I know it’s from my real parents.” Aragorn backed away, unable to breath. Dawn didn’t seem to notice. “It’s comforting, I guess.” She looked at him, noticing the look on his face. “Is something wrong?” He looked at her.
“No,” he said softly. “Good night, Dawn,” he said, leaving the room. Dawn was slightly concerned, but closed her eyes and fell asleep all the same.
March 2, 1697 S.A.
The order continues to guard our most Beloved Light. Our Key continues to be threatened by evils of this world. She was greatly weakened from her capture by the Abhorred. We were able to rescue her only by disguising ourselves as the servants of the dark land in which she was held captive. We travel to Imladris, where she will be kept safe. Alas, I cannot even remember my own tongue. The Cursed Speech is all that I can write, so long has it been since I have been in Mordor. I shall not speak a Word to the most kind Elrond, who has promised safety in his valley, so that I do not offend his ears.
She has recovered her strength, and continues to burn brightly for us, Her loyal followers. Sometimes I imagine Her Most Cherished would smile at us in Her brilliance if She yet had lips to smile. Soon, our Beloved Light will be born into flesh. It has been written that She will be born to a Hope of Kings and a Noble Woman of an Evenstar in an Age of Goodness. My brethren will guard Her until She will be born and bless this land with her goodness and purity.
April 16, 1697 S.A.
The war continues to ravage this land. The Elves continue to oppose that most detested creature that so harmed our Most Cherished. He was not able to consume Her power completely. He only took a significant part of her being to make his abominable metals. I hope he suffers most painfully for what he had done to Her. It is with Her power that he stole which allows for his success against our brethren.
Wesley could not believe what he was reading. He had translated it three times. He knew what it said. It went of for pages and pages of their journey to the valley named Imladris where it remained until the One Ring was found. The Elves then entrusted the Key to an Order of the Secondborn; as Sauron would never think the Elves would place the Key with Men. The Memoirs from Middle-Earth ended there.
“I do not believe this will give us anything,” Gandalf said, setting aside the manuscript he was reading. “Only Dragons and all sorts of Lore I have already heard. At least it is not in Black Speech.” Gandalf looked at Wesley. “Something troubles you?” Wesley stared at the Wizard.
“No,” he said. “Merely getting tired, at last.” Gandalf nodded, switching to another set of writings. Wesley rose, going to some of the books on his shelf. From the Monks of Dagon. Their memoirs of Los Angeles. They had not looked in them, knowing that it only talked of the Key. The Key as in Dawn.
“Excuse me,” Wesley said, taking his papers and book to the kitchen.
August 12, 1988
At last Our Beloved was born. Her safety has been threatened already. As was prophesized, a God from another world sent her minions to take Our Beloved from her Noble Father and Mother. We have regained her from the incompetent followers of Glorificus. We cannot keep her. Our Order is dying. They will find her and kill her.
August 30th, 1988
This will be my last entry. I am the last of the Order of Dagon. I have found the girl the call the Chosen One. She is a protector of this world, prophesized to slay evil. Glorificus will not find her until the Slayer has reached her full power. I despair in knowing that I cannot return our Beginning Light to her parents. I have not the strength to travel back to Arda. I can only hope that our Most Cherished will be safe with the Slayer.
“My God,” Wesley said. “It’s Dawn.”