(There will be three different cases he solves here. This is but the first… Enjoy… and don’t let the cliffhangers get to you!)
Case # 1: The Wailing Sprite of Gondor
Chapter One: Arrival in Middle Earth… Unconcious Style!
Same day, same setting. It is now well after midnight, and Watson is just about to leave and go home to his wife.
I stood, watching the still silent Holmes with both pity and wonder in my eyes. How could a man I respected so much always seem to outwit me? Try as I may, that was one thing I’d never get the answer to. So, as silently as possible, I rose and strode over to the bookcase, lifting a large leather volume that seemed to be almost new. Now Holmes was always an avid reader, and his library was fairly up to date, with the exception of a few old musty volumes that had no real value, unless it was sentimental, but this book seemed to be different. The feel of it tugged at my heart. It was brand new, one of the first new books I’d seen here on Holmes’ bookshelves. Deciding to be polite, I turned back to him.
“Holmes? When did you decide to buy a new book?” I asked in my pleasantest tone, one that would put even a sick child at ease with me. My friend’s sandy-colored head shot up at my words, an obscure smirk playing at his lips.
“Ah, Watson. Leave it to you to find something out of place here, and find it you will!” I was not quite sure if this was praise, however I let him continue. “It is new, my dear friend, but look inside it.”
I did, and to my surprise found absolutly nothing written in it. My staring must have been obvious, for he barked a short laugh and spoke in a different tone. “It is for you, my dear Watson! To write about our cases together.” He clapped me on the shoulder, but I felt faint. He’d never bothered about me before… but of course he had always known about my desire to publish some cases. Without warning, I collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.
I knew nothing duing this time, but Holmes of course elaborated upon this fact and told me everything before he himself joined me.
He looked down upon the unconcious body of his dear comrade, not the slightest hint of worry in his deep brown eyes. There was of course the flicker of regreat that always came with it, but even that wasn’t enough to make the tall detective worry. Not about Watson, at least. No, the dear doctor was very rugged and strong. Holmes knew better than anyone that he would be fine. But, as a precaution, he went to reach for the bell to ring up his landlady, Mrs. Hudson.
One long arm reached out to grab the string and missed… bitterly. Again… nothing. Patience was not one of this man’s virtues when it came to something as trivial as this, so he took a step forward… and tripped over the doctor’s unconcious body. He felt himself falling and threw out his arm in vain to catch himself… but it was no use. He hit his head and was knocked senseless, as was his partner at his side.
I awoke, groggy, and blinked in an open meadow that seemed to be far from London. The air was pure here; pure and lovely to smell. Well, having been a country lad, I took in a long, deep breath of it’s freshness and sighed in pleasure. But where the devil AM I? I couldn’t help but wonder. My eyes took in the bright blue sky overhead, dotted with wisps of clouds, and I found my stomach in knots. This wasn’t in London… Nowhere near London…
Then I heard a ‘PLOP’ and my eyes followed it to see Sherlock Holmes sitting bolt upright on the grass, eyes staring as if he’d never seen such a place. I couldn’t help but notice the poor man’s eyes; They were wide with shock, but not fear. I leapt to my feet and hurried over to him.
“My dear Holmes, are you alright?” I asked, worry evident in my tone. He blinked, then looked up at me.
“Watson…” and his voice shook. He cleared his throat, then started again. “My dear Watson, where are we?”
I shook my head, and was about to answer when a different voice rang out clearly behind me.
“You are in the realm of Ithilien, under the rule of Uruviel, the Laurel-Crowned daughter of Legolas. I am Halfir, Captian of Gondor,” an arrogant, all-knowing voice snapped. I whirled to see a tall man with dark brown hair, deep-set green eyes and a mean little smirk.
“Where is Ithilien? What is it?” I asked, a little annoyed that this man seemed to know all about a place I’d never even heard of.
“Ithilien is the Realm of the Laurel Lady, sir. I do beleive…”
“Halfir! What do you think you’re doing?” A clear, cold voice snapped suddenly. A female voice, I noted, and whirled to see something my heart had desired more than anything. The most beautiful lady I’d ever seen stood there. The Captain gave a mock bow.
“Ah, my dear lady of disdain. Come to see the little men, eh?” The woman’s dark blue eyes flashed lightning, and one hand was clenched into a fist, but she remined quiet.
“Leave here, Captain of Gondor. Leave these men in peace.” And me,, she all but tagged on.
“As you wish. I just thought that you’d want someone around to protect you, what with all this screaming going on. Fare thee well, till we meet again, Queen of Ithilien.” With these words said, he turned and stalked into the forest, vanishing a few moments later. The Lady turned to us now, and her smile was soft and kind.
“I’m sorry Halfir greeted you. Had I been more aware, I’d have come to greet you myself, wanderers in a strange land. I am Uruviel, the Laurel-Crowned of Ithilien.” Her voice had me in a daze. How could anything so lovely be so cold, I wondered. So, this was the Lady of Ithilien… but why so troubled?