But once he'd done all that what would he do? Teach others, he supposed, as Elrond did, but it sounded boring. As much as he wanted to be an Elf, Estel thought that it would be more fun to do everything in a the span of a Man's life. Estel smiled, finally at peace with his race.

"Why did this happen?" Elladan asked.

Elrond started to explain about the drought that turned crops brown so there was no food when Elladan stopped him. "I mean, how can the Valar let this happen? They could just bring him food from the West."

Elrond shook his head. "We cannot expect them to step in just for one man. They have only ever intervened when the threat is dire and affects all of Middle-earth."

"But it affects him." It was a distinction Elladan was too young to understand yet.

"They want all the people of Middle-earth to help before they do."

"Then they might come when it's too late."

"Sometimes they do," Elrond agreed, his expression serious.

Elladan wandered off looking thoughtful. Elrond would wait until he had thought it through and returned with more questions.

"Why do you stay with him?" Elrohir asked, standing in the open doorway so the wind blew parchment around the room and Elrond had to keep hold of the top blanket, lest it should fly away too.

Elrond motioned him over, and when Elrohir had shut the door and sat down Elrond explained. "He has no family that love him and no friends nearby that we could find. No one should have to die alone if it can be helped."

"Does it make a difference?" Elrohir asked.

Elrond nodded. "Men don't know what will happen to them when they die so they are afraid to face the unknown. Fear is always lessened when you have company."

Elrohir nodded. "I'll stay too. Then he will be twice as unafraid."

Elrond smiled at his son and the simple attitude of the young that could understand such things so clearly.

He'd almost thought twice about leaving, but once he was on the road he knew he was doing the right thing. The sea was calling for him. When at last he reached the Grey Havens and saw Círdan and the blue-green sea he smiled. He made the right choice.

Finally, he reached his destination and stammered out his message with a dry throat. He'd been forced to abandon his water when he was nearly discovered and had forgotten he was mortal, unlike the Elves he was headed for. The water he was given spilt when he collapsed and died from its lack.

~*~

Estel listened to the men as they spoke of their friend with love. "Was he brave?" he asked Elrond, who had stepped onto the balcony behind him.

"He was," Elrond confirmed. "He stepped in front of another and took the spear aimed at him. He died so his friend could live. That is why they do not grieve as they would another."

"He must be very brave," Estel said, awe in his voice.

Elrond put a hand on his shoulder. "One day someone may do the same for you. Then you must celebrate the bravery and not mourn the loss."

But she couldn't show Aragorn what she felt: she didn't want him to stay just for her. So she smiled and reassured him that the end to his weariness was what they both wanted. She was sure they would see each other again after.

"How do you know?" Elanor asked.

"The Elves told me."

"Were the Elves there, then?"

Sam chuckled. "Not even the Elves were around that long ago, whatever they might say." He sat down and pulled his daughter into his lap. "I will tell you the whole story." He regretted not paying attention when he'd been told it, but he'd had other things on his mind in Rivendell and fortunately Elanor wouldn't notice which parts he made up.

Aragorn looked up at the grey clouds that threatened rain.

Halbarad followed his gaze and sighed. "As blue as the sky is when it is cloudless."

Aragorn laughed and, after a moment, Halbarad joined in.

None who were with them that day would let him forget it. Anything grey they saw was said to be a particularly pleasing shade of sky blue. Halbarad would sigh good-naturedly or not, depending on the number of times it had happened that day. Since it relieved the tension Aragorn never bade anyone to stop and often joined in himself.

Delighting in the sounds, Elrond was careful not to let him see them, lest his presence remind his sons of their adult status. They had grown to be dependable Elves that he relied on a great deal, yet they could often be too serious, much like him. Arwen was good for all the family.

His thoughts were of his sons, out hunting orcs to avenge their mother's death. In time they would learn it was a vain hope, which would not bring her back. In the meantime he worried whenever they left and wondered each time, if both sons would return.

When at last they were in sight, unhurt, he felt the weight of the air lift around him.

Inside it was calm, the scent of lavender helping to relax the occupants of the small room, save for Arwen as she protested her entry into the cold world, her cries barely louder than the wind. Elrond smiled at his new daughter, knowing that although the conditions were far from perfect, she was and that was all he needed.

Elrond, alerted by no Man, rode out to meet the group. By the time he reached them the weather had cleared and the land was drying beneath the sun. However, it was too late and Elrond found that not one of them were alive. The exhaustion from their long trip had taken its toll.

Brandor shook his head and Arador saw the snow turning red beneath him. "I know you will be a great chieftain, with or without my help."

"But you've always been here by my side. We have achieved so much together."

His words were in vain for Brandor had lost too much blood and the weather made their rescuers too late.

Once Elrond had tidied and prepared the body for its journey home he allowed himself to sit and shed a tear for the Man he had lost. He had come to love Aravir during his fostering at Imladris and though he was used to losing his mortal brethren, he grieved at the untimely loss.

"Are you looking for Sarah?" Across the road a woman closed the door of a van with "Bloomin' Lovely" printed on the side.

Jo waited until she'd reached the pavement on this side before answering. "I am. Do you know where she is?"

"She went out. Took my daughter with her. Rani wants to be a journalist and Sarah's so good to her, showing her the ropes."

Given what she'd heard, chances were that Sarah Jane had gone to investigate something alien and could be gone a while. But Jo couldn't wait.

"Can I help?" the woman asked, while Jo was thinking about what to do next.

"I just came to give her this." Jo pulled a grey object the size of a mobile phone out of her pocket. Given all the alien activity in the area, this woman was bound to know what to do with it while Sarah Jane was out.

"Oh, what is it?" Before Jo could protest the woman took the object from her hand, at which point it turned into a spidery-like thing. Surprised, the woman screamed and dropped it. The spider ran off down the road, clicking as it went.

"We have to catch it!" Jo started after it.

"It's just a spider," the woman complained, but at least she was running too.

"It's not just a spider," Jo replied. "It's designed to send signals into space to let invaders know where to land."

"We don't want the French over here."

Jo supposed that was a code word for aliens. They were in the middle of Ealing after all and should probably be careful about what they said. "There it is!" She managed to put on a burst of speed and caught one of its legs with the tip of her boot.

"Well done," the woman said, panting beside her.

Their victory was short-lived because the spider just detached that leg and carried on.

"Oh, no, you don't." The woman took off her shoe and threw it at the spider. Jo couldn't tell if it was luck or a good aim, but she hit it and the spider went still.

Jo picked it up. It looked like a dead, grey, robotic spider now.

"Don't let it fall into enemy hands," the woman said.

"I think it's dead." It should have folded up back into its original shape, but it just lay there, lifeless. Jo stroked it, to no effect.

"Well, we won't be invaded, will we? Got to look on the bright side."

Jo smiled. There was no point in explaining where it had come from and that the aliens who'd left it were threatening violence unless they got it back. She hadn't even meant to take it in the first place. But all she said was, "Thank you for your help." It would have been worse if she hadn't got the spider back.

"You're welcome, my darling." The woman smiled at her and walked back up to the van she'd come from.

Jo put the spider in her pocket and left a message on Sarah Jane's voice mail. Which, she reflected, she should have done in the first place.

"Emma Peel," she introduced herself, holding out her hand. "I heard you're the person to go to when the world needs saving."

"Sarah Jane Smith." She shook Emma's hand. "I suppose I am. Where did you hear about me?"

"Steed has connections," she said cryptically and smiled. "Get in."

The car was old, but Sarah Jane had to admit, it was fun to drive in. "What needs saving exactly?" she asked, going back to the important question.

"Time." Emma looked over at her, smiling. "A diabolical mastermind is wiping out whole decades of history. It was the 1960s only this morning."

"I have a computer that could help." Admittedly, Sarah Jane could phone him, if she dared get her mobile out in this wind, but he was a lot easier to talk to from the attic, which they were now travelling away from at a ludicrous speed for an old car.

"We don't need computers." Emma turned the car off down a lane and towards a large house.

Half of the house looked Tudor from the front, the other half looked like it had been built in the past twenty years. The two halves didn't quite mesh. As Emma parked the car in front of it, what Sarah Jane assumed was the butler opened the door.

"Mrs Peel," the butler said. "We've been expecting you."

"I do hope I'm not late. It's so hard to tell with the year changing so rapidly." Despite her light tone there was an underside of sarcasm that told Sarah Jane that perhaps Emma hadn't been expecting them to expect her.

"I'll sneak round the back," Sarah Jane said.

Emma gave a small nod and headed inside the house.

Sarah Jane left her to the mercies of the butler and meandered up the drive, pretending to look at the flowers. Once the front door was shut she ran as quietly as she could around the house until she found the back door. She soniced the lock and then set about finding the diabolical mastermind in charge of this house.

After two hallways, a kitchen, a library and a laundry room, she finally heard voices. One sounded a little like the butler, but the other was definitely Emma. They were behind a heavy, wooden door that was open a crack. Sarah Jane pushed it, hoping it wouldn't creak. Once she had it open far enough, she peered inside.

Emma was tied to a table, but pulling at the ropes that secured her. The butler was smiling and standing in front of a machine that took up a whole wall. It reminded her of the console in the TARDIS. This had the same buttons and levers, but was a different shape. As she watched, the butler pulled a lever and Emma began to grow wrinkles and her hair turned grey.

Sarah Jane opened the door with a crash. She couldn't let him age Emma. She aimed the sonic lipstick at the machine and it sparked.

"No!" the butler cried. "I won't let you get away with this!" He began pulling out wires, and as he was preoccupied, Sarah Jane went over to Emma to undo the ropes.

Her hands had some age spots, Sarah Jane noticed. "I'm sorry," she said.

"We haven't finished yet." As soon as she was free, Emma jumped up and kicked the butler, sending him flying into the machine.

It sparked some more, and Sarah Jane and Emma jumped back out of the way. The machine screeched before its humming quieted and finally stopped. The butler aged from forty to eighty in the space of a few minutes and finally dropped to the floor.

"Is that it?" Sarah Jane asked. But she could see that it was, just by looking at Emma. She was already going back to the age she'd been when they first met. "We did it!" She hugged Emma, who looked a bit surprised at the gesture.

"We're going back to the times we came from." That would explain why Emma was starting to look transparent. "I'm afraid you'll have to make your own way home."

As she disappeared the room around her changed and became a sitting room.

"How did you get in here?"

Sarah Jane turned to see a cross, well-dressed woman looking furious. She didn't stay and explain - it was always far better to run.

Rose rounded the corner to find a girl not much older than she kicking a drainpipe. "What's the drainpipe ever done to you?" she asked, joking. But her smile turned to a frown when she saw something purple and furry slithering out of the drainpipe. "What's that?"

"Not dead," the dark haired girl replied, not quite answering her question. As she turned to Rose and then back to the drainpipe Rose noticed she had 'Ace' written on the back of her jacket. Rose wasn't sure what it stood for. "All right, now you've asked for it." She pulled a grey spray-can out of her jacket pocket and threw it at the purple thing. "Run!"

Rose discovered why they were running when there was a small explosion behind them. She looked behind her to see the purple thing strewn across the pavement and half the drainpipe was missing. "Someone's going to wonder what that was."

"Nitro 9," the girl replied, proudly.

She wasn't very good at answering questions in a way that made sense. But before Rose could ask any more there were shouts and footsteps coming their way. "I know a way out of here." She took the other girl down alleyways and back streets until they were far enough away to be safe.

"Thanks," she said. "Look, I've got to be getting back. The Professor will wonder where I am." She ran off before Rose could ask her name or what that purple thing was.

A few days later, when the local gossip had died down, Rose forgot all about the incident. It was a few years later when a man in Henrik's told her to run that she was reminded of the girl. She meant to ask the Doctor if he knew anything, but what with travel to other times and nearly getting killed on more than one occasion, it went right out of her head.