With thanks, as ever, to all those taking the time to read this and review. I have discovered the 'reply' function in the reviews and have replied to those as I felt I could provide answers/pertinent points for. Forgive me if I don't have the time to reply to each one individually, but know your warm welcome and positive response to the fic so far has been much appreciated and I am most flattered. Thank you.

Chapter 7 - “That Old River in Egypt”

As soon had they passed through the gate, heading East and to Rivendell, Halbarad urged the horse into a canter. This woman’s behaviour had been such that he did not wish to delay or slow his journey any more than he had to. He could not work his horse too hard, as he was carrying two riders now, but even so he would work him as hard as he dared and make this journey in the quickest time he could.

Penny held on tight to Halbarad. She was dimly aware that he smelt less. His tunic needed washing still but the body inside it didn’t reek anymore. It may be she was also slowly getting used to his smell perhaps.

But she was not focusing on that. She was trying not to focus on anything at all, really, since if she did the image of Bill Ferny’s broken nose would inevitably surface. The moment that happened she could feel her grip on reality slipping and sliding away from her. She could feel her heart beating loud and fast. She wondered, briefly, if Halbarad could feel it against his back because it seemed to her its thuds wracked her entire frame.

‘Okay. Get a grip. Get a bloody grip. So it was Bill Ferny. Someone playing Bill Ferny and made up to look like he had a broken nose. What’s the problem? Come to think of it where on earth did they find that bloke next to him? Exactly how you’d imagine a half-orc to look. I guess... Not having ever seen an orc that is... Dear God, this is bizarre. This is really, really bizarre.’

The hobbits with real feet, real hair and what seemed to be real ears had freaked her out too. She had seen the female hobbit’s ears clearly enough at the washing stoop and again when she had wrapped a blanket round her in the parlour. She had had close scrutiny of Nob’s ears when he had brought the tea that morning, his feet as well.

Penny shook her head. This was insane. This was absolutely crazy.

The stairs in the inn had been worn smooth, she remembered, as if countless YEARS of guests had tramped up and down them. The building itself, like all of ‘Bree’, had an ancient quality to it. The floorboards in her room had been aged and stained and creaked. The washing stoop had clearly been there for a very long time and was weather-beaten, the thatch of the roof dark with age. There was no WAY this place had been built in the last six months or a year or even a couple of years.

She was panicking. What did it mean? How? How could she not have known about this place? How could it not have come out with all the amazement at what WETA had done in recreating Middle Earth for the movies? How could information about, frankly, an even more realistic recreation not have reached her ears?

She could not make sense of it. It just would NOT make sense.

Then, as the miles rolled by under the horse’s hooves she found herself, after they had been going for little more than an hour and probably a lot less, staring ahead round Halbarad’s shoulder in disbelief and with a sinking feeling in her heart.

She could see the road bend left and then follow round the base of a large hill. Ranged along the hill’s lower slopes were houses. As she neared she could see it was much more than that. There were not just houses. There were hobbit-holes.

Her mind did a somersault. She was shaking her head and murmuring, “No. No. No, no, no. No, this is insane. No.”

As the horse slowed a little to trot past the village of Staddle Penny finally felt like she was losing it completely. Everywhere she looked there seemed to be hobbits: gardening, chatting over fences, hobbit children running in the weak autumn sun...

That was another thing. It was autumn. Well, it felt like autumn. Mid or late autumn.

But... but it was January.

Wasn’t it?

Several hobbit holes had their doors and windows open. She could see right inside one or two. These were not fake fronts as had been used for the Hobbiton scenes of the movies. She could tell, clearly, these were real.

‘How many three and a half foot LOTR fans ARE there in the world?’ she thought. She refused to believe there WERE that many and yet they all seemed to be right here. Her mind was completely refusing to accept what she was seeing.

She buried her face into Halbarad’s back. She was muttering, shaking her head. Halbarad could hear her, or was aware of her doing so. He wondered if he was in for the treat of her going off on one at any moment. He also wondered if he should not spur his horse into a canter or gallop before she could try and climb down and start ranting again.

Penny was also thinking. And quickly. In fact her brain was positively racing away. She remembered now the strange hills and the barrows she had seen to her right before they had entered Bree. She was wracking her brains, re-running the journey made by the hobbits and Aragorn in the books in her head.

Yes, she had it.

This was one of the villages they passed by before they turned off the road.

She looked again at Staddle. She vaguely remembered descriptions of hobbit- holes nestling against the slope of a hill around which the road ran.

She looked at the road behind and in front of her, which was running round a hill against whose slopes nestled hobbit-holes.

She was gasping for breath as it hit her. Hit her hard and with a wave of panic strong enough to make her feel physically sick.

They were rounding the hill, leaving the last of the houses behind them as it happened. The next thing Halbarad knew she was screaming, beating against his back, gasping and crying for him to stop. He could feel her struggling to try and get down and he had little option but stop the horse before she hurt herself.

Even before the horse came to a standstill she was on the ground, retching and gasping... and running. Running fast. Running she knew not where but just away, somewhere, anywhere because she needed to stop to think, to think and make sense of something insane and ludicrous. What was rushing through her head right now was barely coherent.

‘What the hell! What the bloody fucking buggery hell! Just... Oh SHIT!’

She had tears streaming down her face, blinding her. She was stumbling, falling, picking herself up again to keep running only to trip over herself once more. She was sobbing, gasping for breath, and not even sure she knew what it was she found so terrifying.

Halbarad had leapt from the saddle in an instant and was chasing after her. If he did not know better – namely that she was completely mad and capable, it would seem, of just about any unorthodox behaviour you could name - he would say she was scared. Terrified, in fact. Though of what he could not even begin to imagine.

He could hear her sobbing and choking. Watched as she kept struggling forward despite her stumbling, so blinded by her tears that she did not know where she was going. He finally caught up with her as she collapsed once more. She did not try and get up, just lay there, her head in her hands, sobbing and trying to catch her breath. She couldn’t breathe. She was hyperventilating. Halbarad, for about the only time in his entire life, was at a loss. He took her by her shoulders.

“Pen-ii! Pen-ii? What is it? What on earth is the matter? Pen-ii?”

She was looking at him, near blue in the face from her gasping, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her quick and near non-existent breathing.

“Shhh!” he said, “Breathe.” He blew out.

She copied him, still sobbing in between but knew he was right. She blew out again taking her eyes from him. She did it once more and could feel herself breathing more normally now. She sat up. She looked at him.

“Halbarad?”

He nodded and smiled despite himself to hear her use his name and with such a gentle, sincere tone for once.

“Halbarad. This is serious. Please.” Her voice was quiet and full of desperation, and she was still sobbing as she spoke. “If you can understand me, then I beg you. I really, really beg you, with all my heart, tell me I am not going crazy. This place is really scaring me now. I congratulate you all on what you have achieved here. I am a Lord of the Rings fan myself and I can see how authentic you have got it all here, but please, if you have any mercy in you at all, tell me what the hell is going on. Please, Halbarad. Please. I feel like I am going out of my mind.”

She looked at him, pleading with him, the tears streaming down her face.

Halbarad, his brows knotted together in concern, incomprehension and pity, could do nothing. He realised she was asking something of him, that it was desperately important to her that he provide it, but he did not know what it was she wanted and somehow he suspected he may not be able to offer it even if he did.

“Pen-ii, forgive me. I do not know what you ask. I cannot help you, much as I would willingly do so if I could.”

He smiled gently, shook his head and shrugged. He held out his hand to her and she took it, staring down at it as her now silent tears fell, splashing down onto the back of his hand and his fingers.

“I wish you could tell me what ails you, Pen-ii. I am sorry. Truly I am.”

She looked up at him once more. For the first time, and she did not quite know why, she believed him. She did not understand him but she believed that he was not maliciously deceiving her in some way. His tone, the way he was looking at her showed his sincerity, his kindness and concern. It made her weep even more since it threw up more questions than it answered.

She shook her head, and a sob escaped her throat as she covered her face with her hands and wept. Wept bitterly and long. Wept so that her shoulders shuddered and shook with the frustration, anger, confusion and distress running through her.

Halbarad knelt forward and held her, not knowing what else to do, till he felt her passion subside a little. He leant back, looking down at her as she calmed. She did not look at him. The occasional tear still fell but she was not sobbing anymore.

“Can we continue, do you think?” he asked gently, knowing she would not understand him but hoping she might guess his meaning.

She did. She nodded. But still she did not look at him.

He stood and held out his hand for her to help her up from the meadowgrass. He walked beside her back to his horse grazing by the roadside and waiting for their return. He glanced at her every now and then. Her face was a picture of misery: the brows furrowed, the tears wetting her cheeks and a look of absolute dejection on her face. He shook his head, climbed back in the saddle and helped her up behind him so they could set off once more.

As his horse cantered along the East-West road, Penny felt her heart in her boots. ‘Well at least I don’t have to worry about Mum anymore,’ she was thinking. ‘She’s probably brought me chocolates and fruit and flowers.’ She could feel her throat tightening once more.

It was still possible this was some weird roleplaying place but she doubted it now. No. She knew she was, in fact, insane. She was hallucinating. This wasn’t real. None of it was. She was lying in some hospital bed, drugged up to the eyeballs with her mother weeping by her bedside and her brother scoffing all the grapes.

This impression was not lessened by the approach of a huge marsh to the North of the road in the afternoon. Penny saw it, sobbed once more and turned her face away.

It would take millions to create this place. PJ only managed it with the millions of Hollywood at his disposal and several years of planning. How could someone ‘create’ chains of hills and barrows, entire swamps, to an exact replica of Eriador? How was it possible that someone was rich enough and insane enough to do such a thing, could then find enough people to roleplay the characters, AND keep the entire thing under wraps for years and years?

It wasn’t, of course. It wasn’t possible at all. She MUST have been crazy to have even considered the possibility.

And if some multi-millionaire hadn’t done it then a production company for a reality TV show hadn’t done it either.

So that left just one option: she was stark, staring bonkers.

Halbarad turned off the road into the shelter of a nearby copse. He started a fire and then got out some bread, cheese and cold meat from his pack. He offered some to Penny but she wouldn’t eat. He insisted, trying to talk to her gently but she shook her head, scowling at him when he pushed her.

“I don’t want any, alright!”

He nodded apologetically and ate.

As he lit a pipe he watched her, hugging her knees and staring into the fire. Something had happened. He did not know what but she was different. He was not sure if he preferred this quiet, sullen Pen-ii or the old, mad, firey one. She was clearly very, very unhappy about something. Not angry anymore. Clearly there had been something before that she had blamed him for: he had sensed her rage and scorn, and that it had been directed at him in the main. Perhaps she had realised he had, in truth, done nothing to warrant it? Was that what had happened? She still felt someone was to blame but was at a loss as to whom now?

Halbarad guessed very near the mark though he little knew it.

He had bought a second blanket off Butterbur and gave her that with the bedroll. She actually seemed to offer him the bedroll and he was stunned that she did so. This really was not the Pen-ii he had got to know the past few days.

He shook his head firmly and indicated his cloak. She shrugged, clearly not bothered one way or the other. As he lay down next to the fire opposite to her, with her also facing the fire and still clearly distracted in her thoughts, he watched her. He would not sleep much that night, and only lightly, wary as he was in such times, but he was well aware through the night that she slept little also. Something was troubling her that was clear.

In the morning, Penny was presented with the ‘relievement’ issue once more. Peeing was not a problem but this was the first time in the wild for anything else. Whatever happened it would have to be better than the horrors of the latrine.

As she munched her dried fruit and bread, which Halbarad had forced on her though she still was not hungry, she considered. She remembered how fussy he had been about burying the vomit and the rabbit pieces... She nearly put down her food at the memory but quickly pushed the pictures out of her mind. How was she going to dig a hole for herself?

He had gone wandering off early that morning, she had noticed. No doubt he had thought her asleep but she had been awake since dawn. She had watched him disappear into the trees, stooping every now and then to cut a leaf here or there. She had noted it was large leaves he was cutting and, as she lost sight of him, he had kept his knife in his hand. When he had returned some time later, leafless, he had been cleaning earth off his knife. Why did she suspect that he had been satisfying nature’s call? And if so... she needed his knife.

Given his obvious attachment to the thing, though, this was going to be interesting. She had other things on her mind, at the moment, it was true, but even so she didn’t want to upset him because, frankly, he scared her silly when he was pissed off. Even so, needs must.

And she needed.

Desperately.

If she had not been so distracted she would have done something about it last night except she did not think about it till she was already laid down to sleep and then was too scared of the dark to go wandering off into the trees by herself that late at night. So now it was a ‘Sod All Consequences’ situation.

She gritted her teeth, brushed the last of the crumbs from her hands. This was going to be SO embarrassing. That’s even if he understood her. She was not looking forward to this.

“Halbarad?”

He looked at her, smiling gently.

“Umm.. well.. your knife, please.”

She pointed at it. He looked down at himself, then back at her, clearly mystified as to what she was pointing at.

“Your knife?” she repeated and now stepped forward to crouch by him and she touched the knife in its leather pouch. He looked at what she was pointing at and then back at her with a puzzled expression on his face. She held out her hand to him.

“Please?”

Halbarad was perplexed. Why did she want his knife? He was not sure about this. Not sure at all. For all he knew she could have been leading him a merry dance these last few days. Despite what he instinctively felt in his gut about this woman - that she may be mad or stupid but not dangerous – he was still wary. It was his nature and his upbringing. It was in his very blood as a Ranger and a warrior. He smiled gently but shook his head firmly.

“No, Pen-ii. I am sorry I cannot allow you to arm yourself, even if it were for innocuous reasons. I do not know you or your story well enough. Forgive me but no.”

Her eyes narrowed. Bloody typical. He was going to make her beg or get explicit and she was not prepared to do either. Given the psychological state she was in she was not in the mood for buggering about either.

“Halbarad!” she snarled, “Don’t be even more of an arsewipe than you already are. Just give me the knife, goddammit!”

He laughed softly, seeing she was getting angry, but still remained firm and shook his head.

She remained crouched beside him seething. She let her head drop forward as she breathed hard through her nose. She murmured, “You little shit. You stupid, ignorant, insensitive pig!” She looked at him. “Fine. Thank you. Thank you SO bloody much. I’ll just go and dig with my bare bloody hands, then, shall I? Great. Just great.”

So saying she stood, turned and marched off into the trees, swearing and grumbling to herself as she went.

Halbarad suddenly suspected what she had wanted the knife for. He could feel himself flushing a little. He should have realised.

He watched her as she stopped now, looking to either side for suitable leaves to pick. She thought she had gone far enough so he couldn’t see her, but he could in fact see her well enough. Could see her pick a leaf that she really didn’t want to be using where he thought she was about to use it.

“Pen-ii!” He jumped to his feet.

He jogged over to her. She was blushing furiously and was clearly very annoyed at him having come over to her.

“What!” she snapped.

He grinned apologetically and pointed at the leaves. He then took them from her and sorted through them and picked out two, picked from the same plant, and a paler colour than the others and more oval than round. He held them up to her and shook his head and made a face.

“Ow!” he said.

That was clear enough. He saw her blush deepen to a vivid scarlet. He tried to be as tactful as he could.

“These ones are fine,” he said, handing them back to her.

Then he took her by the shoulder to turn her slightly and then he crouched down to point at a plant growing beside them. He held on to a leaf and showed it to her. “These ones you will find easily enough. These are the ones to pick.”

He smiled at her, raising his eyebrows to see if she had understood. She was still crimson but nodded and murmured something very quietly which he presumed, rightly, was her thanks. He nodded, stood and was about to turn back to the clearing when he unsheathed his knife and handed it to her, hilt forward. She smiled.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Just be careful,” he said, nodding. He pointed at the blade and sucked air over his teeth as he said, “Sharp. Ow!” She nodded.

Halbarad went back to the clearing to give her some privacy.

When she returned at last she handed him the knife, the worst of the dirt wiped off. As she rolled up the bedroll and blanket he cleaned it and put it back in its sheath. In a way he was pleased. She had proved herself trustworthy with a weapon. For this time, at least. He nodded to himself. Good. Very good.

Soon enough they were heading off once more. Within an hour Penny was staring ahead to an ever nearing line of hills running North away from the road. The last hill, nearest the road, which swung in a huge loop round its base, had ruins on its top.

Penny was shaking her head, tears in her eyes. How was it possible that the geography could be so exact? Yet it had to be fake. She could feel herself on the verge of tears again, desperate at the thought that she may actually be crazy and imagining all this. And yet... it was so vivid. So real. So ‘real’ in the sense of things you couldn’t imagine: the smells, the sounds, the reactions of those she had met so far. How could she imagine the cuts on her feet or her thumb? The freezing cold of the water as she had washed the clothes? The tastes of the food she had eaten? How could she hallucinate in REAL TIME and in such vivid detail? She could feel the panic rise within her.

They were nearing the hill, riding past its base. As they did so, Halbarad, looking at the verges by the roadside, stopped. He got down from the horse. He went some distance into the grass on either side, stopping every now and then and crouching occasionally to inspect the ground.

A man had been here. A man and some hobbits (he could not tell the number) and a pony, though the marks were very faint and near two weeks old. They had crossed the road here. He smiled, grimly. However, he could also see other hoof marks, horses’ hooves, in the ground round about. More than one. He did not like that at all.

As he came back to his horse his face was grim and he did not speak as he climbed back in the saddle.

He was about to spur his horse when Penny tapped him on the shoulder. He turned his head to her. She could see he was suddenly looking very serious. She, with a sinking feeling, realised she knew why. She pointed at the hill and the remains of long ruined walls on its height.

“Amon Sûl?” she asked, dreading yet knowing what the reply was going to be.

Halbarad nodded, unable to keep the astonishment from his face. He saw her just nod sadly, almost wearily, as if she had known and it troubled her to learn she was correct. He turned back as the horse moved forward. He had learnt some while back that her knowledge was greater than had at first seemed, yet he could not help himself but feel surprised every time something new came from her lips like this.

The rest of the day passed easily enough. Penny was getting very sore from the riding and was grateful when at last they stopped. Halbarad could see she was in pain but there he was little he could do for her. She would get used to it eventually. He would have to remember to seat her on the blanket, folded beneath her, tomorrow to ease things a little for her.

Penny accepted some bread and cheese, but only a little. She still had no appetite. She was still deep in thought and was now just chasing herself round and round in circles. She had to be imagining this. She had to be. It had gone way beyond a joke, way beyond all reasonable explanation. She had seen the distant line of mountains stretching clear across their path and getting ever nearer. She guessed now where they were headed, given his mention of Elrond to her. She shook her head.

“This is insane. This is... this is just ridiculous.”

It was all she could say to herself, over and over again.

Two more days’ travel passed. They spoke little. Both were lost in thought: Halbarad on how Aragorn was faring; Penny on what on earth was going on. Penny was becoming more and more depressed, and obviously so. Halbarad was worried by her demeanour. She was eating next to nothing. She had not asked for his knife again since that day after they left Bree, but considering he was near forcing her to eat he was hardly surprised. He shook his head that night, watching her as she slept fitfully and with bad dreams yet again. There was little he could do for her. He knew it, but it distressed him to see her, to see anyone, like this. He didn’t feel helpless very often and it irked him greatly.

The following morning they reached the bridge over the Hoarwell. Again Halbarad stopped the horse and examined the ground round about. He was both pleased and concerned by what he found.

As he turned to the horse, though, he saw Penny’s face. All the colour had drained from it and she was ashen. He came to her quickly, looking up at her and saying her name.

She did not hear him. She was staring at the bridge. It had three arches and was clearly ancient. She slid out of the saddle, not noticing the blanket slip to the ground. She came to the bridge and held out on hand against one of the low walls that ran on either side of it.

Halbarad watched, concerned by her behaviour, as she ran her fingers along the stonework. She was murmuring to herself, shaking her head. He could see her hands were shaking.

She looked at him now, tears in her eyes. Even as she did so she hit her hand against the wall. Hard. And again. Then once more.

She was about to do it a fourth time when he reached her, grabbing her hand and stopping her. He looked into her eyes, the worry and bewilderment clear within his gaze, as he held her hand. She pulled it from his grasp and looked at the damage she had caused herself. She was cut, bleeding. She roughly fingered the cuts and cried out as she did so. Halbarad had no idea what she was doing or why. She was looking around her, taking in her surroundings. He could see she was gasping, swallowing air, as if she couldn’t breathe. He saw her wobble as her knees buckled and he caught her. She sank to the floor with a groan and quickly he crouched beside her.

“Pen-ii? Please! Whatever is the matter? Eru, why can’t you understand me! Pen-ii, what has got into you?”

She looked at him, tears on her cheeks and a sad smile on her face.

“Eru. Yes indeed. He is about the only one who could help me or explain this right now.” Her voice sounded cold and distant.

She had given up. Given up trying to understand. In this moment she felt all the fight leave her. She could cope with no more of this. It had broken her at last. She had hurt herself. It was as clear as day: she was cut and bleeding. This bridge, its stonework, was real. It had to be. There was no way this was an illusion. And yet... how could it be anything but? She shook her head. She gave up. She was insane and yet she couldn’t be.

She sighed and smiled at Halbarad once more. “Halbarad, old chum, it just ain’t fucking funny anymore, that’s all.” She almost laughed. Though it would have been a laugh of bitterness and resignation.

She meekly let him lead her down beside the bridge to the river where he bathed her hand for her. Then he smeared his infamous balm into the cuts and bandaged it. All the time he spoke to her gently, trying to keep her calm.

He was very concerned now. Very. He just hoped Elrond might be able to do something for her. They would not be long on the road now and, from what he could make out, Aragorn and his companions had made it this far at least, which was good to know, even if they did have company close behind them.

They rode on. Woods were now to the North of the road. Penny was not cheered by seeing the ridges and hills in that direction and the ruins of walls and towers upon them. She was not lifted in her heart to think that she was riding past the woods where she might find Bilbo’s trolls.

The road wound round hills, taking them in and out of woods and trees. Eventually they made camp, once more taking advantage of cover under the trees. Halbarad treated her hand with some athelas.

She watched him as he worked, tying her bandages secure. It was the one thing she had absolutely refused to think about, even though it was coming back again and again and more frequently in her brain: if this wasn’t a role-playing scenario, then who was he? Who the bloody hell WAS he? Her brain could only come up with one answer and she wouldn’t even consider THAT. If she accepted that then she knew she was lost, knew she might as well give up on ever being sane ever again. Yet she kept coming back to it time and again.

As Halbarad finished tying off the ends of her bandage he stiffened suddenly as if listening. Penny opened her mouth to ask him what was going on but he held his hand up to her to silence her without even looking at her. He stood slowly, drawing his sword as he did so. He started moving towards the direction of the road and, again not looking round, untied his knife in its sheath and threw it at Penny. She picked it up, looking questioningly at him as he glanced at her. He put his finger to his lips and motioned that he was moving away. He gestured her to move back, away from the fire, and under the cover of the trees. She did so, watching him move quietly to the edge of the clearing. He was making her very nervous.

Then she could hear it: a horse’s hooves on the road. Then the sound stopped.

She looked up to see Halbarad had disappeared, no doubt off to see who it might be.

There was a silence. Penny strained to listen.

Then... did she imagine it?.. talking? Laughter. It was getting louder. One voice was Halbarad’s. The other... the other was... it was... well, it was male, that was for sure, but there was something about it. Something Penny had never ever heard before. She couldn’t describe it or think what it was, but it was as if it was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard.

“This is getting really bloody weird,” she muttered to herself.

She could see a movement in the shadows on the edge of the clearing. Halbarad stepped forward, looking in her direction and ... smiling?

It was then that something happened that turned her world completely upside down, already in turmoil and collapsing around her as it was.