ataraxionlogs | twenty-eighth jump;

Entry tags:

twenty-eighth jump;

CHARACTERS: Any and all.
LOCATION: Gravity Couches and beyond.
WARNINGS: Maybe some swearing, or even some violence, and more than likely some implied (and possibly explicit) nakedness.
SUMMARY: Another month, another jump, another round of new faces.
NOTES: It could just be the standard sensation of air on wet skin, but if you bother to check, you might notice the steam rising from your body, barely there and gone within a minute. By the time you get to the showers, it will be clear that it's not just taking you time to adjust. The room is cold — colder than usual, but no worse than the last jump. While it's nothing dangerous, it's certainly motivation to hurry through the usual routine and get dressed quickly.

It's getting closer.

YOUR EYES ARE OPEN.

KEEP LOOKING.

You wake up in darkness.

There's a breathing tube jammed down your trachea, and you're suspended in a tube of clear blue fluid. Upon registering your level of consciousness, the gravity couch drains the fluid surrounding you and retracts the breathing apparatus; the doors in front of you open, and you're deposited on the floor of a stark, sterile medical bay.

You are not alone.
There are others who have come before you, others who are awakening beside you. Some may be familiar to you, perhaps even friends. Others have much less amiable plans. Some are merely alien and inexplicable, but there are always those who might mean you harm.

After you catch your breath and your vision returns, you notice a number on the inside of your forearm. Maybe it's a familiar number. Maybe it means something. Maybe it's just a number. But the number—completely unique to you—is a tattoo, and it does not come off.

If you enter the room adjacent to the medbay, you will find a small locker with your number on it, surrounded by rows upon rows of identical lockers. Inside, you will find a few of your personal items, a communications device, and a ship's uniform in your exact size. The comms device is fully powered and connects directly to the ship's network; it's your only means of communication beyond physical conversation. Upon turning the device on, a neutral, automated voice will say, "Please take the blue lift to the passenger quarters." Any other attempts at communicating with the rest of the network are met only with static.

This is your welcome party.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

His scrambling, that anxious scrambling, draws her attention. He is small of stature, and she recognises the shape of him. A Hobbit, if she's not mistaken, like the other one that she had spoken to here. Although she has seen few of his kind in her life, she knows him as a product of Middle Earth.

He searches for something in his box, puts it around his neck. A ring of some kind. For the moment she thinks little of that, having no reason to think it is more than it seems. Still, for a strange moment her eyes are drawn to it. She knows not why.

Shaking that strange impulse away, she raises her eyes to his face instead, and reads the distress there.

"I know of no one by that name, Master Hobbit," she says, stepping closer and inclining her head a little. "Some from Middle Earth are here, myself among them. You are not alone, but as to that name, I am sorry, for I have not heard it. May I ask yours instead?"

The voice startles him. When Frodo turns, he's met by an elf. An elf, of all places!

Her calming tone, and her very presence slowly brings some calm to Frodo. He looks at her and listens closely to what she has to say. Okay, so some of it...or most of it, didn't make much sense to him. Some from Middle-earth? Were they not in Middle-earth anymore?

Frodo wanted to say it was nonsense! Perhaps, this was just an odd dream? The last thing he remembered was being in Minas Morgul, as...the Ring had a hold of him then, didn't it? Frodo could slowly feel himself succumbing to its power, as it started to guide him past the gates...

Was this it...? Was this-
This didn't make sense. None of it did.

Frodo tried to push his fright aside, as difficult as it was. He instead focused on her face. She was here. She could help. "Frodo Baggins is my name." He forgot about his politeness for the moment, looking around at the hustle and bustle of others. "Where are we?"

He seemed so lost, and so focused. His politeness or otherwise matters very little to her, for she would help him regardless, but at his name she smiled.

It held no significance to her, in truth - she had not heard of him - but she inclined her head in response.

"I am Tauriel, of the Woodland Realm," she answered. "You are well met, Frodo Baggins. We are on board a vessel similar to a ship, save that it sails upon stars instead of water. Its name is the Tranquility, though it is not a peaceful place. It resides not in Middle Earth, but sails through an unfamiliar sky. We know not how we were brought."

It would be a lot to take in. Her own experience with that news was not far from her mind and she paused, giving him time to absorb it.

"The Woodland Realm?" Frodo found himself repeating, like a bird. It had to make him wonder...what on earth was an elf doing in such a place like this? There were no trees, no grass. Frodo had never heard of a place in Middle-earth like this before.

His answer soon came after. A ship that sails upon stars...

Whatever questions he had were soon answered. But it left him speechless for the moment. Sailing through the stars was enough for him to grasp, let alone not being in Middle-earth. If they weren't in Middle-earth then...where were they? And how did they end up in such a place, anyway?

Frodo swallowed, and continued onto the next question. "Why are we here?"

He wasted no time. He moved directly from the what and onto the why, which sadly is a line of questioning Tauriel cannot answer. Not yet. She'd be keen to know it for herself, but no amount of questioning those already here had led to greater understanding. She could only shake her head.

"I know not," she said. "For this past month I have pondered much the same question. I know not who has taken us, nor why they have done so - only that, at present, there is no way for us to escape. Another of your kind is here - a Hobbit, whose acquaintance I made recently. You may not know him, but he is the only other Hobbit I have seen. His name is Merry. Beyond him, there are Dwarves and Elves and men aboard this ship, and other creatures besides. Our numbers are many, and still we do not know why."

Merry was here. That in itself was a relief that Frodo couldn't even explain right now. Knowing that dwarves and elves were here was very good enough, and he couldn't be happier. But knowing that there was someone here who he could truly relate to, his kin...and he was okay! Wherever Merry was, he was okay! "Oh, Merry. Thank goodness..."

It felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.
...But not a lot of weight, though.

Even though it was amazing to know that there was a hobbit and some dwarves and elves here, it scared him that Tauriel didn't know where they were. Were they disconnected with the earth, somehow? What was this place, if even an elf couldn't tell?

"I am glad to hear that so many are safe." Were they...? "May I ask your name?"

"So you do know him."

Interesting. She files that away. Frodo is only the second Hobbit she has ever properly met, and only the third that she's heard of. Still, she does not think they are so rare a species that they would all know each other by name. It's interesting to her that the ship continues to bring people with a connection to each other - those who know each other, or are even related. Thranduil, Legolas, herself. Elrond and Galadriel. Fili, Kili and Ori. All of them are here, and now Frodo has joined Merry.

That cannot be coincidence, but she does not know what it means, so for now she keeps her own counsel, and focuses on his questions.

"As I said, you may call me Tauriel. I know not if you can call all of us safe. The ship can be a dangerous place - but if you should have need of safety, come to the gardens, where King Thranduil has taken residence. You would be welcome there, I am certain."

King Thranduil was here...? Then surely there had to be some order! Even though Frodo didn't know anything about the Woodland King other than the stories Uncle Bilbo told, it still was a calming thing to hear.

There was a few questions that still needed answering, though. So Merry was here, which was good! Now there were just a few others missing that he needed to be sure were okay.

"Have you seen another hobbit called Samwise here? And Pippin? They are my kin, and I'm quite worried for them." Poor Sam, stuck in a place like this. And Pippin! A young hobbit should never have to go through these things. Poor Pip.

Tauriel's face took on a gentle kind of sympathy now. His kin, actual family. He seemed to feel hope now, hope that they would be here and safe - though whether being here meant any kind of safety was debatable, as far as Tauriel was concerned. Still, she knew that she wasn't about to give him good news, of any kind.

"I am sorry, Frodo," she said, briefly shaking her head. "Your friend was the first of his kind that I had seen, here or in any other place."

Technically, that wasn't true. She had seen Bilbo, or at least caught a glimpse of him - but she didn't know that. At best, she probably assumed that the person she'd seen had been another Dwarf, albeit quite a small one.

"There are no other Hobbits here. Of the Elves, present here is my King, whom I mentioned, and his son Legolas. We are all of the Woodland Realm. Beyond us there is Lord Elrond, of Rivendell, and Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien." And there is Luthien, as well, though Tauriel has not met her. Thranduil had impressed upon her the need to keep that lady's presence secret, and thus she duly did. "There are Dwarves as well - Fili and Kili, who are brothers, and Ori who is a companion of theirs. Even if they are not known to you, some comfort there may be in knowing they are from your world. That is more than many can say in this strange place. I am sorry that I can bring you no news of your kin."

She sounded as though she meant that. Finding people that she knew had been a great relief to her. She would have liked to have done the same for him.

Sam wasn't here...? But how was that possible?

Frodo frowned as thought over that. So if Sam and Pippin weren't here, then where were they? He hated to think of them being alone somewhere, here or at home, lost with nobody to turn to. It stabbed him with guilt just thinking about it..."Where are they...?" His voice was no more than a whisper.

As he heard more about those who were home, Frodo did find himself relaxing quite a bit. If Galadriel was here, and Elrond too, then things should be be safe for him, for anybody. But the thought of them being in such a dreary place was also just a little concerning. It was concerning for all of them, in that manner.

Anyway. He looked to Taruiel, and bowed his head. "Thank you, Taruiel. You have brought much comfort to me."

His words were kind, but she had marked that look on his face, and the worry he felt for those that were not here. His kinsmen. His family.

“I fear I have brought you less than I hoped, Frodo,” she said, inclining her head a little. “I know not what has happened to those others of yours, but one thing I will say to you. If in my time here I should find them, I will bring them to you at once. Each month new faces appear, or so I have been told. I will watch for theirs.”

Or she’d listen for their names, more likely. Now, watching him closely, she raised her eyebrows.

“But you knew of the others, did you not? Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel, you know their names.”

The question of how was unspoken in her voice. They were two of the greatest of the Eldar. The lands of the Elves were now smaller than once they had been, and far fewer between, and Elrond and Galadriel were both leaders. To know them personally implied a person of great importance, at least to her.

The idea that Samwise could come was both settling...and at the same time frightening. Frodo didn't want such a young hobbit to be exposed to these things. It was bad enough on their quest as it was, and the last thing he wanted to do was expose him to more awful things just because he was lonely and afraid. That wasn't right in the least.

"But I left him in a dangerous place." He said, looking up to her. "We were in Minas Morgul, right near the gates...!"

Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel...it would be a relief to see them again. Knowing they were here was a relief to Frodo. Maybe things weren't so bad as he first thought. If they were here, then he had to be safe, correct? "I was on a quest with my friend. On our journey, we met along our way. Both were very kind to us."

He looks up to Taruiel. "Are they well?"

Tauriel turned sharply to him, surprise clear in her eyes. Where she was from, Sauron was still the Necromancer, working in her wood. Mordor had not yet grown in power, yet even in her day, it was a dark place full of dark sorcery.

"They are well," she said carefully, watching his face. "As well as they can be, here. But you spoke of a dangerous place indeed, a place far from your home. What would take you to a place like that?"

She wouldn't say the name. It was better not to speak of such things, of dark places and sorcery. Particularly here, where the darkest of all creatures was residing.

For a moment, Frodo was worried. Had he said too much? And what of Sam and Smeagol? Taruiel was such a familiar name, though...hadn't she known of this before? Frodo was confused, and he was flustered, and he was worried....

"I was on a quest with my friend. And there was a guide, as well." Frodo grabbed at the Ring, and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I have something in my possession that is a danger to all who are near it. I need to return so I may finish..."

And see his Sam.

"Please, is there any way I can return to Sam?"

Something in his possession? Tauriel's eyes followed Frodo's hand, saw that he clutched at himself. Nay, not at himself - at the thing he had hidden about his person, the thing her eyes had been so strangely drawn to. She felt them drawn again, though again, she knew not why. She only shook her head at him, mystified. He seemed in such great distress that she took his worry seriously, though she could not guess at its nature.

Nor did she overly like how much her eyes seemed drawn to his hand. That was very odd.

"No," she said, very softly, and then with more determination she blinked, and found his eyes again. "No, Frodo. I am sorry, but if there was a way to return, I would have done so already and returned to my people. I know of no way to bear us hence, and none that I have questioned can enlighten me.

What danger do you carry?" She couldn't stop herself from asking, even though she wondered if she should. Instead she frowned at him, and lowered her voice. "Is there danger to the ship? If that is so, you should not keep it to yourself."

He left him there.

It felt like his heart tore in half. Poor Sam, poor Smeagol! They were left alone at the gates of Minas Morgul. Frodo didn't mean to leave either of them. He was afraid that now they would be angry with him. He never ever meant to leave them! And there was no way they would know. "Are they safe...?"

He can see Tauriel's eyes looking down to him, watching as he grips the Ring a little harder. Elf or no elf, she had to realize that this was his responsibility. This was his burden, and he didn't want anybody to get in the way of it. The Ring was so small, and so precious-

A danger to the ship? As much as he hoped not..."I carry the Ring of Power." His voice is nothing but a whisper; aside from who is standing in front of him, nobody could be trusted with such information. "I was on a journey to Mordor to destroy it."

To her, that Ring was but a legend. A terrible legend, from the Second Age. The Ring, on Sauron's hand, had almost meant the destruction of the Middle Earth that she knew.

But the Ring had been lost, famously, after the battle that ended with Sauron's defeat. It had gone to Isildur, a son of Men, and from there had been long lost. None knew where it could be now, and to Tauriel's mind, that was the way it should be.

Yet here before her stood this young Hobbit, telling her that the Ring was not only not lost, but in his possession. Here, on this ship, where terrible creatures lay in wait. Now, the temptation to see what he carried made all too much sense to her. Far too much, and if she thought about it, oh the temptation that would be there. The Ring meant power, and strength. Power enough to get home, perhaps? Power enough to return to her own time, her own people, for though the Elves here are her people they do not recognise her, do not know her, and she yearns above all else to go back where she belongs.

She stops those thoughts in their tracks. Her eyes close. No. That is not her. That is not Tauriel. She desires no power for herself, she is no queen, and nor would she want to be. She is happy in her place, or she was. The dark power of that Ring is not for her. She opens clear eyes, and meets Frodo's with a definite calm.

"Frodo Baggins, I know nothing of your friends. I can promise you neither safety nor security, in a place like that, and to say otherwise would be a falsehood. But you must listen to me now." She paused. Internally, she felt a little wild, like she was standing at the edge of a precipice and hastily clawing her way back from it. She could not afford to panic. There were things he needed to know.

"You speak of a great evil, one I thought lost. How it came to be here, how you came to have it, I do not know, and I...pity you, Frodo, for what you carry." He would have to give it up. To reject its temptation had made her struggle; how much harder would it be to hold it, knowing that it would be destroyed? For all her strength, she did not think she could do that. Her voice dropped very low, and now she spoke with urgency. "He is here. The one who made it, who forged it in the fires of Mount Doom, he is here on this ship. And along with him is one he once called master, one whom my people know as Morgoth. You know what you carry. If they should find it, Frodo, I fear your lonely friends would be more safe than any one of us upon this ship."

Taruiel's response to him having the Ring shouldn't have taken him aback as much as it did. "It can't be...!"

He listened silently to what she had to say, noticing that her eyes stayed locked onto his fist all the while. And when it was all said and done...he hardly knew where to start. Or what to feel, even.

The strongest thing thus far was horror. Sauron (or Morgoth...oh, Morgoth...) was nothing to joke about- why would they do such a thing? But Frodo couldn't believe it, he didn't want to. The very thought of Sauron being alive ans whole and here frightened Frodo down to the core, like ice was slivering down his throat. But the Ring...

It was rejoicing. Frodo could feel it get heavier around his neck. It demanded him to go searching, no matter how far or deep. It wanted him to look and look until he would collapse, if it meant finding its master again. It made him feel sick, and weak.

And his friends...oh, he was being so horrible right now, and he hardly even knew it!

He gripped the Ring tighter, looking nervously left and right. "Then I must leave!" At least leave here, anyway. Frodo was a walking red flag just by being in this very ship. "Please, where may I go?"

"You cannot."

There was such sadness in Tauriel's voice now, such unhappiness and worry. She met Frodo's eyes solidly, her gaze no longer straying to where the Ring lay. Still, she implored him with her expression, and she spread her hands.

"There is none among us who know the secret of how to leave this place. We know not how we were brought, we know not how to leave. You must stay. You can avoid him - indeed, we must try to make sure of that - but both of you are here, and neither can escape.

Above all else, Frodo, you must ensure he does not discover what you carry. He must never know."

But Frodo would know that already. He'd been charged with the burden, of course he would know. Tauriel shook her head, needing urgently to find some solution.

"Do you trust my people, Frodo? Those elders that are here would help you if they could - Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel, and my King, Thranduil of Mirkwood. If your faith could be placed in them, I would beg you to seek their counsel."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

twenty-eighth jump;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject