Title: The Battle of Pelennor

Author: Nautika (nautikasolari@yahoo.com)

Series: TOS

Codes: S/Mc

Rating: PG

Parts: 1/1

Disclaimer: Somebody else owns Star Trek, The Lord of the Rings books and movies. No copyright infringement intended.  Entertainment purposes only.

Feedback: Gladly accepted.

Author's Notes: For Spiced Peaches XXXIII.  Lord of the Rings names from www.elvenrunes.com name generator.  Lord of the Rings portions based more on Peter Jackson’s movie versions.

Archiving: The Spock/McCoyote’s Den and my site

Summary: Inspired by the following requests:  “In another lifetime, Spock and McCoy were two people who were in a relationship. Memories of those past lives affect them now, spurred on by a mission.” And “An AU where Spock is a Lord Of The Rings elf and McCoy a human, Kirk a Ranger, and so on would be fun.”

THE BATTLE OF PELENNOR

Captain James T. Kirk swiveled his chair towards the science station.  “Report, Spock.” 

“There are signs of civilization; no signs of life, Captain.” 

Kirk looked back at the view screen and the planet which the Enterprise was currently orbiting.  It was a rare moment where they weren’t being chased or fighting for their lives and he came to a decision. 

“Spock, gather a team.  We’ve got some exploring to do.”

=^=

The away team beamed down to a field overrun with wildflowers and grasses.  Close to their position was a mountain range and ruins.  Beyond the field in the opposite direction was a forest. 

As Spock finished materializing he was immediately assaulted with images, flashes of the past and deep emotions.  He dropped to his knee and closed his eyes against the barrage. 

Rain and storm clouds obscured the moon as Spock took his place on the battlement.  Lighting flashed, illuminating the field below, full of their enemies.  His people had come to aid the Men of Rohan, to fight alongside them.  He readied his bow, awaiting the order to fire.

“Spock!  Can you hear me?”  McCoy’s voice broke through the memory.  “Are you all right?” 

“Yes.  Strong emotions linger here, they surprised me, doctor.  I am fine.”  Spock stood and surveyed the surroundings.  His eyes lingered on the ruins, his mind overlaying what he’d seen in the memory. 

McCoy squinted, “I’ll be the judge of that,” he ran his tricorder over the Vulcan.  “It seems to indicate that you are fine.”

Spock turned his gaze to the doctor and raised an eyebrow.  “As I said, now can we continue?”

McCoy bowed at the waist, waving his hand in invitation. 

“Jansen, you and Mitchell take the field; Doctor McCoy and I will focus on the ruins.”  Spock watched as Jansen nodded and headed off in the general direction of the woods. 

The ruins consisted of a high wall, still standing, then a second wall and a fortress carved into the mountain.  A long, sloping ramp led to a gate, the only entrance.  Much of the place’s once considerable defenses were crumbling.  Spock glanced in McCoy’s direction; the doctor was busy scanning the area in front of the ruins.  Spock allowed himself to close his eyes and let the memories wash over him once again.

The battle raged around him.  He’d taken several hits already and everywhere his brethren lay dead or dying.  He was beginning to lose hope and as he raised his bow one last time, the blow came, knocking him off the battlement and into the fray below.  He landed on a pile of bodies and was kicked aside before blackness took him.

Spock opened his eyes and looked into McCoy’s blue ones, his brow furrowed in concern.  “Are you sure you’re all right, Spock?  You were standing there, completely unresponsive.”

“I am fine, doctor.” He calibrated his scanner and walked through the ruins of the gate and into the first level of the fortress.  “Have you found anything?”

“No.  Well, some rusty weapons, but no signs of recent habitation,” McCoy shrugged, “I don’t think anyone’s been here for a long time.”

“Nor I, but, it feels both long empty and recently abandoned, as if they just left.  The place is…unsettling.”

McCoy smirked, “Are you talking about ghosts?”

“No.”  Spock watched as McCoy rolled his eyes when Spock did not rise to the bait and continued on scanning.  They moved their way up the fortress, getting closer to the inner portion, taking readings and commenting as they went.

They stood on the steps leading to the fortress itself when McCoy cocked his head and eyed Spock.  "Did you ever think about growing your hair long?"

Spock raised an eyebrow, "Doctor?"

"I think it might look nice.  Something different.  Anyway," McCoy looked at his scanner as it beeped, "Still no signs of life." He carried on in the direction he had been headed. 

Spock inwardly frowned and wondered if the doctor wasn’t also subconsciously picking up on some of the residual emotions and images.  He adjusted his scanner and let his guard down for a minute.

Someone shaking him brought him to consciousness and Spock looked up into McCoy’s blue eyes, except it wasn’t Leonard McCoy.  It was the face of someone he was intimately familiar with.  A member of the race of Men known as Erol.  He tried to sit up, but Erol pushed him back down.

“Stay.  You aren’t well enough yet.” 

Spock looked around, he was in a makeshift tent along with several other injured Men and Elves.

“I never expected to see you again,” Erol said as he prepared a hot beverage.  “Drink this, it will help.”

Spock took the cup and sipped it, “It was not I that chose to leave.”

Erol looked up sharply.  “You know I couldn’t stay.  I did what I thought was best,” he stood and moved on to tend another patient.

Spock took another sip and laid back.  He had not expected to see Erol ever again either.  He thought back to their first meetings, in the woods of Lorien.  He had seen Erol gathering herbs and medicinal plants and had watched him on several occasions before making his presence known.  He had not had much interaction with Men and was curious.  Spock had been impressed with the knowledge Erol had of the healing arts.  Gradually, they had become friends.  And then, more. 

Spock’s communicator chirped and his eyes flew open.  He answered the call, “Spock here.”

“Spock, how is the investigation coming?”

“Very well, Captain.  There are no signs of life as of yet, but evidence of a great battle and we’ve collected several samples of flora and minerals.  So far it is unclear who occupied this planet in the past.”

“Carry on.  Take the night if you need it.  Kirk out.”

Spock looked at the sky, trying to judge how much daylight was left, estimating several more hours.   He walked further into the fortress, scanning it for stability.  It was sound and he looked up, noticing McCoy slumped against the wall.  He hurried over and touched McCoy’s shoulder.  Bleary eyes opened and met his. 

“Spock?”  McCoy raised his hand to his head.

“Are you all right, doctor?”

“I think so.  I just felt a little overwhelmed and sat down.  Must’ve passed out,” he shook his head and when he raised his eyes again, Spock noticed something different in his gaze.  McCoy looked away.  “Had the strangest dream, too.”  He stood up gingerly, leaning on the wall and Spock’s arm.

“What about, Doctor?”

“Well, it was about a battle.  Here.  And there were loads of long-haired Vulcans, and other…creatures.  I came with Kirk, but it wasn’t Kirk, he was dressed funny, in a green cloak and was with a group of horsemen.”

“Doctor, I don’t believe that was a dream.  I have been experiencing the same thing.  There is a strong psychic residue in this place and I believe it’s bringing out memories.”

“Memories?”  McCoy pulled away.  “What do you mean, memories?”

“From a previous existence.”

McCoy’s eyebrows raised, “Are you serious?  That’s ridiculous.”

“Doctor, I am sure you’re aware that several cultures believe in reincarnation.  When what humans call a soul is reborn in another body, in another time and place.”

“I know what reincar…” McCoy began, but was cut off.

“Why should that place only be Earth?”

McCoy opened his mouth and then closed it again, sighing.  “If that were true, I suppose there’s no reason it should only be Earth.  So, what do you plan to do about it?”

“I’ve been getting glimpses of the story, but I need to meditate.  The captain said we could have the night if we needed it.  I’d like to stay.”

“What if they aren’t memories?  What if it’s some alien trying to take over your brain?” McCoy’s brow furrowed, “I’ll stay, too.”

“As you wish, doctor.  I would advise against telling Jansen and Mitchell, unless they begin to experience the phenomenon as well.”

“Agreed.” 

Spock hailed the Enterprise and requested the overnight supplies.  He asked McCoy to supervise camp setup while he moved further into the fortress for a short meditation.

Spock awoke from a fitful sleep.  He looked towards the opening of the tent and saw Erol talking to someone who appeared to be of Dúnedain descent.  The conversation seemed serious and they kept looking in his direction.  Finally, they turned and walked towards him.

“So, you’re awake again,” said Erol.  “This is Kevol, a Ranger from the North.  We rode in together alongside Éomer.”  Spock immediately recognized him as Kirk. 

Kevol crouched down and his eyes raked over Spock, assessing him.  “Erol here tells me that you fought under Haldir of Lórien.”

“I did.”

“He was a good leader and will be missed.  Many of your brothers have fallen.  What do you plan to do when you are well enough to travel?”

“Return to Lorien.”

Kevol looked thoughtful for a moment, “This war is far from over,” his eyes met Spock’s and held his gaze.  “Come with me and fight,” his voice was low but filled with intensity.  “We ride for Minis Tirath and I could use someone with your Elven abilities at my side.”

Spock looked down, considering his options.  He glanced at Erol and then let his gaze fall on Kevol.  “Very well.  I shall join you.”

Kevol stood up. “Excellent.  Now, concentrate on healing and we shall soon be on our way.”  He strode off to join Éomer and the other captains.

McCoy’s voice in the distance roused Spock from his meditation.  It was dark.  He had been gone longer than he planned to.  He stretched and walked out of the fortress to join McCoy and the others at the camp.

McCoy gave him an odd look but the others didn’t seem to notice and Spock assumed McCoy had made up some story for his absence. 

“Good of you to join us, Spock, after all the hard work has been done,” McCoy teased.

Spock raised his eyebrow and sat, getting a report from Jansen and Mitchell about what they’d found out in the field and near the forest’s edge.  It confirmed what he suspected, that a major battle had been fought here.  They found skeletal remains, weapons and other evidence of such. 

Dinner was uneventful and Spock settled down to sleep as Jansen took the first watch.

Spock steadied his mount alongside Erol as they gathered at the crest of the hill.  It was their first glimpse of the fields below with the city of Minis Tirath under siege and smoking in the distance.  Adrenaline pounded in his ears, blocking out the speech King Théoden was giving, but the crowd thundered in response.  He spared a glance at Erol as they began racing into battle and silently vowed not to leave his side.

The sun rose behind them as they crashed into the wall of the enemy, striking them down and trampling them under foot.  Their side was losing men as well, shot down by arrows, but they managed to prevent the enemy from overtaking any more of the city.

The ground shook and Spock looked up to see a line of Oliphaunts charging towards them.  King Théoden called for them to reform the line and Spock swung his horse around beside Erol’s and awaited the order to charge.

They raced forward, dodging the giant legs of the beasts, Spock shooting arrows at their undersides as Erol chopped at them with his sword.  Ahead of them, Kevol was knocked off his mount and rolled out of the way.  Erol leapt off his own horse and helped Kevol up.  He picked up his sword and took off, slicing at the enemy.  He did not see what happened next.  Spock watched helplessly as a spear pierced Erol through the back.

He collapsed to the ground and Spock fell to his knees, cradling Erol in his arms.  The sounds of the melee around them disappeared and it was as if they were the only two on the field. 

“Forgive me,” Erol said, his voice weak.  “I shouldn’t have left you…” he reached a hand up to caress Spock’s cheek, before it fell away and his eyes closed. 

Spock knew then that if he survived the battle, he would not see immortality.  He could feel his will to live leave his body with each shaky breath that Erol drew, until at last, they ceased. 

Spock awoke to see McCoy also sitting up, his face pale, breathing shallow.  Their eyes met and no words needed to be said.

When morning came, Spock found it was awkward between him and McCoy.  They went about their duties professionally, but there was a distance.  McCoy did not tease him as he normally did.  It was as if neither wanted to acknowledge the memory and Spock figured they would each need to come to terms with it in their own way.

The team cleaned up their camp and gathered the items they had collected and as they waited for the transporter, Spock began mentally composing his report, unsure if he’d mention the experience he and McCoy had had.  He knew he’d need to discuss it with the doctor before he decided.

They were beamed aboard and Jansen and Mitchell picked up their supplies and headed out of the door.

McCoy followed Spock out of the transporter room, placing a hand on the Vulcan’s shoulder and grinning said, “So, you never did say whether you’d consider growing your hair long?”

The End!