Post by meaningofhaste on Aug 3, 2005 17:58:44 GMT
These characters do not belong to me, but to Conan Doyle and J.R.R. Tolkien. I'm only playing with them.
Note: This is merely a retitling of "SHerlock Holmes and the Time Traveler, Parts 1-3.
Sussex, March 1921. To be opened only after my death and the death of Sherlock Holmes. [signed] John Watson, M.D.
Part I: London
It was a late November evening in the year 189- that brought Sherlock Holmes and me the most fantastic and bizarre case in all the years of our association.
A chilly fog mixed with icy drizzle blanketed Baker Street, and I was glad to be indoors after a round of visits to my patients. Mrs. Hudson had cleared away supper, and I was sipping a post-prandial whiskey and soda. Sherlock Holmes, his lean features set in an expression of boredom, sat on the other side of the fire, moodily scraping away at his violin.
We had had no case of interest for several weeks, and I was concerned, for boredom was Holmes' worst enemy, leading to unfortunate experiments with cocaine, random pistol practice in the sitting room, and a neglect of his personal hygiene.
Suddenly Mrs. Hudson appeared in the doorway, her usually placid face appearing strangely agitated. "A visitor for you sir," she murmured, glancing behind her to the landing. "A young gentleman."
"Since he is here, Mrs. Hudson, you may as well show him in," answered Holmes indifferently, not removing his gaze from the dully glowing coals in the grate.
There was a stir in the doorway, and a most extraordinary figure entered. Our visitor was a tall man, clad in a long cloak of weathered green, a leather tunic emblazoned with a tree-like emblem, and high boots. He wore a long sword, and a bow with a quiver of arrows was slung over his shoulder, whilst a businesslike-looking dagger was sheathed at his hip.
I wondered how someone so clad and armed had escaped the notice of our constabulary, even on such a dark and foggy night, but my musings ceased when he lifted his bowed head and gazed at me.
Extraordinary eyes of a brilliant blue and oddly feline shape inspected the room, while full but firm lips curved in a faint smile. A bold nose, deeply cleft chin, and a mane of tumbled red-gold hair completed a picture of manly beauty that I had never seen equaled.
A slight bubbling noise from Mrs. Hudson distracted me from the vision before me. She was still standing at the door, clutching the knob for support while staring fixedly at our visitor. I was taken aback, for our excellent landlady had shown herself to be imperturbable during all the years Holmes and I had lodged with her. Not even the sudden appearance of the Giant Rat of Sumatra in the sitting room had shaken her aplomb.
"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. You may go now," said Holmes from his seat by the fire. The worthy woman came to herself with a start, blushed deeply and turned to leave. The visitor held the door for her with an inclination of the head and a slight, nearly imperceptible quiver of his lower lip. She staggered slightly, and with a last backward glance tottered from the room. Her stumbling footsteps were heard descending the stairs.
Our visitor closed the door and turned to face Holmes and me with an apologetic smile. "The 50s through the 80s are particularly susceptible, I find." His voice was warm and vibrant, with an accent I could not identify.
Holmes was now standing and surveying our visitor with interest. "I am Sherlock Holmes," he stated, "and this is my colleague, Dr. Watson. I confess I find you a bit of a puzzle. It is raining, but your cloak and boots are completely dry. You cannot have walked any distance, yet I did not hear a carriage pause in the street outside. Your weapons suggest a date several hundred years B.C., yet they seem relatively new and unworn. May I hear who you are and how and why you have come to consult me?"
The young man stepped further into the room and fixed his penetrating gaze on Holmes. "Mr. Holmes, you are the only man in Middle Earth who can help me, and I have come from unmeasurable distances and 3000 years in the past to seek your advice. My name is Faramir, Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien, and my errand concerns the honor and stability of nothing less than the crown of the Kingdom of Gondor."
*********************************************
I could not repress a short exclamation of amazement and disbelief. The young man stiffened slightly, and the easy grace of his manner hardened. His eyes, I noted, had changed from brilliant sapphire to a stormy blue-grey.
"I must apologize on Dr. Watson's behalf, Your Highness," interjected Holmes smoothly, with a brief admonitory glance at me. "Time-and-space travel is a novel concept, and men of science such as my colleague are apt to wish for details of what for want of a better term I will call the mechanics of the process. Will you be seated, sir? May I offer you some refreshment after your journey? Watson, the tantalus!"
The young man removed his cloak and tossed it casually aside, revealing a broad-shouldered, slim-hipped and athletic figure before sinking gracefully into the armchair Holmes indicated and accepting the tumbler of brandy I offered.
"I expected skepticism," he remarked with a rueful twist of his lips, "and should not resent Dr. Watson's doubts. I come from a world where what is right and true is a matter of intuition and trust, not of inarguable logic and concrete facts--a world inhabited not only by men, but by creatures known to your world only as pretty myths and quaint tales--I speak of dragons, gentlemen, and dwarves, and elves. They are not the amusing and puerile creatures of what you call 'fairy tales' but beings of great strength and power. Wizards still inhabit my Middle Earth, and the Seeing Stones of Feanor can see into the future and direct me to you.
"Nevertheless, trust, chivalry and nobility of spirit have betrayed the greatest man I know into a position from which he can be rescued only by an intellect such as yours, Mr. Holmes, an intellect utterly passionless and unaffected by the softer emotions."
"Ah!" interjected Holmes. "I perceive that there is a woman in the case."
"I have not been mislead as to the quickness of your intellect, Mr. Holmes," Prince Faramir remarked. "You are correct, though perhaps it would be more accurate to say that there are two women in the case.
"Allow me to give you some background to the problem before I describe it. I spoke of the crown and kingdom of Gondor. The throne and kingdom have only recently been reestablished after nearly 3000 years in eclipse, an eclipse during which generations of my family acted as de facto rulers. The king, Elessar Telecontar, had spent his entire manhood in combatting the evil forces which had sought to destroy Gondor and reduce its population to slavery.
"Great was the rejoicing and my own private joy when King Elessar, aided by allies of the races of dwarves, men, hobbits and elves, destroyed Sauron, the root of the evil and ascended the throne.
"That was three years ago. Within a few months of his coronation, the King achieved the greatest happiness of his life--marriage to Arwen, an immortal elf-princess of impeccable lineage, noble nature, exquisite beauty and the very highest standards of behavior. They had loved each other since the king was hardly more than a boy, and Queen Arwen gave up her elven immortality and parted forever from her family to marry Elessar. This marriage united the races of men and elves, and is crucial to the future of the kingdom.
"Two months ago the Queen left Minas Tirith, Gondor's capital city, to visit friends in the elf kingdom of Lothlorien. Her return is expected in ten days. Mr. Holmes, if you cannot resolve the King's predicament before her return, the man-elf alliance is doomed, the King and Queen's happiness will be destroyed, and the future of the Kingdom will be in doubt."
The prince paused, and seemed to brace himself to continue. "To understand the King's most imprudent behavior, you must understand the King himself. He was raised among the elves, and had virtually no contact with human females, being engaged almost ceaselessly in the long struggle to defeat Sauron. His attitude toward women has always been chivalrous and protective, desiring always to help, reluctant to cause pain. In his mind they are remote, idealized creatures, as pure-minded and noble as himself."
"I think we are coming to the second woman, are we not, your highness?" commented Holmes. "There can be no one more vulnerable to a scheming, unprincipled woman than a man such as your king--inexperienced, idealistic, naive, and. . . .alone."
"You judge correctly, Mr. Holmes," answered the prince,
his blue eyes suddenly blazing. "Queen Arwen took her elf ladies-in-waiting with her to Lothlorien, leaving the rest of her household in Minas Tirith. Among these was a lady from the court of Harad, a country long at enmity with Gondor, but with which the crown six months ago concluded a treaty of peace. This treaty is of great importance, for the kingdom of Gondor has been drained by generations of warfare and needs time to recover. One of the provisions of this treaty was that a Haradian lady would join the Queen's entourage. Thus Princess Korellein came into contact with the King.
"She is not beautiful, nor charming, nor talented. Her appearance is rather childlike, and her manner is timid and retiring. Unfortunately, I left the court about the same time as Queen Arwen to attend to my estates in Ithilien. On my return three days ago, my intimate knowledge of the king made it immediately apparent to me that he was in great distress of mind.
"While the king has been unable to confide to me all the details of the affair, I have been able to piece together a general outline. The princess arranged to be found alone by the king, weeping quietly, homesick, hinting at unkind treatment by the Queen's remaining ladies, sickening in the confinement of the city. The king's pity and interest were aroused, and he began to invite her to join his rides in the country, to make up one of the number at his dinner table, and finally invite her to his study in the evenings to hear her talk of the customs and history of Harad.
"King Elessar has always avoided ceremony apart from his official duties, and dislikes to be surrounded by an entourage. When the queen was present, they spent much time alone together, so his solitary evenings were not remarked upon. What exactly happened between the king and this calculating woman he has not been able to confide to me, but knowing his simplicity, chivalry and the elevated standards to which he holds himself, I believe that a few kisses and caresses that would seem trivial to a more experienced man are to him the equivalent of the most intimate favors."
The prince paused, staring into the fire, and went on. "I thank you gentlemen with bearing with my prolixity. I now come to the problem itself. Among the treasures of the crown is the Elf-Stone, a gem created by Celebrimbor, a famous elf craftsman of the first age. It was given to Elessar by the greatest elf-queen of all, the Lady Galadriel, grandmother of Queen Arwen, before her departure from Middle Earth. It is the symbol of the powers and rights granted to the king by the elves. He wears it an all public occasions, and its absence cannot be concealed from the Queen on her return.
"Mr, Holmes, the Elf-Stone has been stolen, and Princess Korallein has boldly admitted to me and the King that she is the thief. Her price for its return is the drastic modification of the treaty between Gondor and Harad; modifications that will inevitably lead to hostilities from Harad before Gondor has time to build up its strenth to resist them. The Princess has been taken discreetly into custody, and questioned as stringently as our laws and the king's consideration for her sex allow, but even had we sunk to the most fiendish tortures known to the orcs, I know she would not divulge the stone's whereabouts.
"A search of her room and the areas of the palace she frequented has been made, but hiding places are so many that a throrough search would take weeks, apart from the very real possibility that the princess passed the stone to a confederate. Our only hope is that the stone cannnot be too far away, for the princess declares that she can restore it the same day the revised treaty is signed.
"Mr. Holmes, will you accompany me to Minas Tirith and attempt to find the Elf-Stone? Your trouble will be rewarded even if you fail, but if you succeed. . . ." The prince was standing now, his face pale and intent as he looked earnestly into Holmes' eyes.
I too was looking at Holmes, and saw that his face was alive with interest and excitement, all traces of boredom vanished.
"Your highness, such a challenge and such an opportunity is too tempting for me to resist. I will come with you and exert my skills to their utmost. Watson," he added glancing at me,"You will accompany us, of course."
I could do nothing but agree, though I was far from convinced of the genuiness of our visitor and his fantastic claim of having journeyed through time and space to reach us. While Holmes was scribbling a note to Mrs. Hudson, advising her that we had been suddenly called out of town, I was doing the same to my locum asking him to look after my patients for the next ten days.
Prince Faramir was pacing the room, his impatience palpable. "You need not bring clothing with you," he remarked, "for I think it will be best for you to assume Gondorian dress in Minas Tirith, as I do not wish you to be conspicuous during your investigations. Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson, if you have any belongings you wish to bring, please place them in a single container."
Holmes lifted the Gladstone bag that carried his investigation kit, while I placed my trusty bulldog revolver in my hip pocket and pulled my bowler firmly down on my head.
"Excellent," smiled the prince. From somewhere in his costume he produced a small globular object that exhibited a bright gleam in its depths. Holding it out in his palm, he ordered Holmes and me to place our hands on it. I did so, reflecting that if in the next few moments we three still found ourselves in our familiar sitting room I would take great pleasure in taking our visitor, tall as he was, by the back of the neck and kicking him down the stairs.
"Take a deep breath and stand absolutely still," ordered the prince. The globe was pulsing with brighter light and felt hot to the touch. Faramir placed his free hand on top of Holmes' and my hands. I felt a sudden fierce heat suffuse my body, and in an instant we were whirling through a suffocating dark shot with flashes of fire.
(TBC), and thanks to Eggo for the inspiration.
Note: This is merely a retitling of "SHerlock Holmes and the Time Traveler, Parts 1-3.
Sussex, March 1921. To be opened only after my death and the death of Sherlock Holmes. [signed] John Watson, M.D.
Part I: London
It was a late November evening in the year 189- that brought Sherlock Holmes and me the most fantastic and bizarre case in all the years of our association.
A chilly fog mixed with icy drizzle blanketed Baker Street, and I was glad to be indoors after a round of visits to my patients. Mrs. Hudson had cleared away supper, and I was sipping a post-prandial whiskey and soda. Sherlock Holmes, his lean features set in an expression of boredom, sat on the other side of the fire, moodily scraping away at his violin.
We had had no case of interest for several weeks, and I was concerned, for boredom was Holmes' worst enemy, leading to unfortunate experiments with cocaine, random pistol practice in the sitting room, and a neglect of his personal hygiene.
Suddenly Mrs. Hudson appeared in the doorway, her usually placid face appearing strangely agitated. "A visitor for you sir," she murmured, glancing behind her to the landing. "A young gentleman."
"Since he is here, Mrs. Hudson, you may as well show him in," answered Holmes indifferently, not removing his gaze from the dully glowing coals in the grate.
There was a stir in the doorway, and a most extraordinary figure entered. Our visitor was a tall man, clad in a long cloak of weathered green, a leather tunic emblazoned with a tree-like emblem, and high boots. He wore a long sword, and a bow with a quiver of arrows was slung over his shoulder, whilst a businesslike-looking dagger was sheathed at his hip.
I wondered how someone so clad and armed had escaped the notice of our constabulary, even on such a dark and foggy night, but my musings ceased when he lifted his bowed head and gazed at me.
Extraordinary eyes of a brilliant blue and oddly feline shape inspected the room, while full but firm lips curved in a faint smile. A bold nose, deeply cleft chin, and a mane of tumbled red-gold hair completed a picture of manly beauty that I had never seen equaled.
A slight bubbling noise from Mrs. Hudson distracted me from the vision before me. She was still standing at the door, clutching the knob for support while staring fixedly at our visitor. I was taken aback, for our excellent landlady had shown herself to be imperturbable during all the years Holmes and I had lodged with her. Not even the sudden appearance of the Giant Rat of Sumatra in the sitting room had shaken her aplomb.
"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. You may go now," said Holmes from his seat by the fire. The worthy woman came to herself with a start, blushed deeply and turned to leave. The visitor held the door for her with an inclination of the head and a slight, nearly imperceptible quiver of his lower lip. She staggered slightly, and with a last backward glance tottered from the room. Her stumbling footsteps were heard descending the stairs.
Our visitor closed the door and turned to face Holmes and me with an apologetic smile. "The 50s through the 80s are particularly susceptible, I find." His voice was warm and vibrant, with an accent I could not identify.
Holmes was now standing and surveying our visitor with interest. "I am Sherlock Holmes," he stated, "and this is my colleague, Dr. Watson. I confess I find you a bit of a puzzle. It is raining, but your cloak and boots are completely dry. You cannot have walked any distance, yet I did not hear a carriage pause in the street outside. Your weapons suggest a date several hundred years B.C., yet they seem relatively new and unworn. May I hear who you are and how and why you have come to consult me?"
The young man stepped further into the room and fixed his penetrating gaze on Holmes. "Mr. Holmes, you are the only man in Middle Earth who can help me, and I have come from unmeasurable distances and 3000 years in the past to seek your advice. My name is Faramir, Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien, and my errand concerns the honor and stability of nothing less than the crown of the Kingdom of Gondor."
*********************************************
I could not repress a short exclamation of amazement and disbelief. The young man stiffened slightly, and the easy grace of his manner hardened. His eyes, I noted, had changed from brilliant sapphire to a stormy blue-grey.
"I must apologize on Dr. Watson's behalf, Your Highness," interjected Holmes smoothly, with a brief admonitory glance at me. "Time-and-space travel is a novel concept, and men of science such as my colleague are apt to wish for details of what for want of a better term I will call the mechanics of the process. Will you be seated, sir? May I offer you some refreshment after your journey? Watson, the tantalus!"
The young man removed his cloak and tossed it casually aside, revealing a broad-shouldered, slim-hipped and athletic figure before sinking gracefully into the armchair Holmes indicated and accepting the tumbler of brandy I offered.
"I expected skepticism," he remarked with a rueful twist of his lips, "and should not resent Dr. Watson's doubts. I come from a world where what is right and true is a matter of intuition and trust, not of inarguable logic and concrete facts--a world inhabited not only by men, but by creatures known to your world only as pretty myths and quaint tales--I speak of dragons, gentlemen, and dwarves, and elves. They are not the amusing and puerile creatures of what you call 'fairy tales' but beings of great strength and power. Wizards still inhabit my Middle Earth, and the Seeing Stones of Feanor can see into the future and direct me to you.
"Nevertheless, trust, chivalry and nobility of spirit have betrayed the greatest man I know into a position from which he can be rescued only by an intellect such as yours, Mr. Holmes, an intellect utterly passionless and unaffected by the softer emotions."
"Ah!" interjected Holmes. "I perceive that there is a woman in the case."
"I have not been mislead as to the quickness of your intellect, Mr. Holmes," Prince Faramir remarked. "You are correct, though perhaps it would be more accurate to say that there are two women in the case.
"Allow me to give you some background to the problem before I describe it. I spoke of the crown and kingdom of Gondor. The throne and kingdom have only recently been reestablished after nearly 3000 years in eclipse, an eclipse during which generations of my family acted as de facto rulers. The king, Elessar Telecontar, had spent his entire manhood in combatting the evil forces which had sought to destroy Gondor and reduce its population to slavery.
"Great was the rejoicing and my own private joy when King Elessar, aided by allies of the races of dwarves, men, hobbits and elves, destroyed Sauron, the root of the evil and ascended the throne.
"That was three years ago. Within a few months of his coronation, the King achieved the greatest happiness of his life--marriage to Arwen, an immortal elf-princess of impeccable lineage, noble nature, exquisite beauty and the very highest standards of behavior. They had loved each other since the king was hardly more than a boy, and Queen Arwen gave up her elven immortality and parted forever from her family to marry Elessar. This marriage united the races of men and elves, and is crucial to the future of the kingdom.
"Two months ago the Queen left Minas Tirith, Gondor's capital city, to visit friends in the elf kingdom of Lothlorien. Her return is expected in ten days. Mr. Holmes, if you cannot resolve the King's predicament before her return, the man-elf alliance is doomed, the King and Queen's happiness will be destroyed, and the future of the Kingdom will be in doubt."
The prince paused, and seemed to brace himself to continue. "To understand the King's most imprudent behavior, you must understand the King himself. He was raised among the elves, and had virtually no contact with human females, being engaged almost ceaselessly in the long struggle to defeat Sauron. His attitude toward women has always been chivalrous and protective, desiring always to help, reluctant to cause pain. In his mind they are remote, idealized creatures, as pure-minded and noble as himself."
"I think we are coming to the second woman, are we not, your highness?" commented Holmes. "There can be no one more vulnerable to a scheming, unprincipled woman than a man such as your king--inexperienced, idealistic, naive, and. . . .alone."
"You judge correctly, Mr. Holmes," answered the prince,
his blue eyes suddenly blazing. "Queen Arwen took her elf ladies-in-waiting with her to Lothlorien, leaving the rest of her household in Minas Tirith. Among these was a lady from the court of Harad, a country long at enmity with Gondor, but with which the crown six months ago concluded a treaty of peace. This treaty is of great importance, for the kingdom of Gondor has been drained by generations of warfare and needs time to recover. One of the provisions of this treaty was that a Haradian lady would join the Queen's entourage. Thus Princess Korellein came into contact with the King.
"She is not beautiful, nor charming, nor talented. Her appearance is rather childlike, and her manner is timid and retiring. Unfortunately, I left the court about the same time as Queen Arwen to attend to my estates in Ithilien. On my return three days ago, my intimate knowledge of the king made it immediately apparent to me that he was in great distress of mind.
"While the king has been unable to confide to me all the details of the affair, I have been able to piece together a general outline. The princess arranged to be found alone by the king, weeping quietly, homesick, hinting at unkind treatment by the Queen's remaining ladies, sickening in the confinement of the city. The king's pity and interest were aroused, and he began to invite her to join his rides in the country, to make up one of the number at his dinner table, and finally invite her to his study in the evenings to hear her talk of the customs and history of Harad.
"King Elessar has always avoided ceremony apart from his official duties, and dislikes to be surrounded by an entourage. When the queen was present, they spent much time alone together, so his solitary evenings were not remarked upon. What exactly happened between the king and this calculating woman he has not been able to confide to me, but knowing his simplicity, chivalry and the elevated standards to which he holds himself, I believe that a few kisses and caresses that would seem trivial to a more experienced man are to him the equivalent of the most intimate favors."
The prince paused, staring into the fire, and went on. "I thank you gentlemen with bearing with my prolixity. I now come to the problem itself. Among the treasures of the crown is the Elf-Stone, a gem created by Celebrimbor, a famous elf craftsman of the first age. It was given to Elessar by the greatest elf-queen of all, the Lady Galadriel, grandmother of Queen Arwen, before her departure from Middle Earth. It is the symbol of the powers and rights granted to the king by the elves. He wears it an all public occasions, and its absence cannot be concealed from the Queen on her return.
"Mr, Holmes, the Elf-Stone has been stolen, and Princess Korallein has boldly admitted to me and the King that she is the thief. Her price for its return is the drastic modification of the treaty between Gondor and Harad; modifications that will inevitably lead to hostilities from Harad before Gondor has time to build up its strenth to resist them. The Princess has been taken discreetly into custody, and questioned as stringently as our laws and the king's consideration for her sex allow, but even had we sunk to the most fiendish tortures known to the orcs, I know she would not divulge the stone's whereabouts.
"A search of her room and the areas of the palace she frequented has been made, but hiding places are so many that a throrough search would take weeks, apart from the very real possibility that the princess passed the stone to a confederate. Our only hope is that the stone cannnot be too far away, for the princess declares that she can restore it the same day the revised treaty is signed.
"Mr. Holmes, will you accompany me to Minas Tirith and attempt to find the Elf-Stone? Your trouble will be rewarded even if you fail, but if you succeed. . . ." The prince was standing now, his face pale and intent as he looked earnestly into Holmes' eyes.
I too was looking at Holmes, and saw that his face was alive with interest and excitement, all traces of boredom vanished.
"Your highness, such a challenge and such an opportunity is too tempting for me to resist. I will come with you and exert my skills to their utmost. Watson," he added glancing at me,"You will accompany us, of course."
I could do nothing but agree, though I was far from convinced of the genuiness of our visitor and his fantastic claim of having journeyed through time and space to reach us. While Holmes was scribbling a note to Mrs. Hudson, advising her that we had been suddenly called out of town, I was doing the same to my locum asking him to look after my patients for the next ten days.
Prince Faramir was pacing the room, his impatience palpable. "You need not bring clothing with you," he remarked, "for I think it will be best for you to assume Gondorian dress in Minas Tirith, as I do not wish you to be conspicuous during your investigations. Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson, if you have any belongings you wish to bring, please place them in a single container."
Holmes lifted the Gladstone bag that carried his investigation kit, while I placed my trusty bulldog revolver in my hip pocket and pulled my bowler firmly down on my head.
"Excellent," smiled the prince. From somewhere in his costume he produced a small globular object that exhibited a bright gleam in its depths. Holding it out in his palm, he ordered Holmes and me to place our hands on it. I did so, reflecting that if in the next few moments we three still found ourselves in our familiar sitting room I would take great pleasure in taking our visitor, tall as he was, by the back of the neck and kicking him down the stairs.
"Take a deep breath and stand absolutely still," ordered the prince. The globe was pulsing with brighter light and felt hot to the touch. Faramir placed his free hand on top of Holmes' and my hands. I felt a sudden fierce heat suffuse my body, and in an instant we were whirling through a suffocating dark shot with flashes of fire.
(TBC), and thanks to Eggo for the inspiration.
at Raksha and the slash comment......(I agree, mind).
