[ASHER'S POV]

"So everyone at ready?" asked Uncle Ro.

"Focus on our bond with naneth and skip the memories that we won't be able to unsee especially ones involving her and ada," I summarized, snickering at ada who shook his head at me in disapproval.

"Ugh." I heard Callie muttered in disgust half heartedly. Her heart was still heavy with nana's ailment but I knew a flicker of hope arose within her.

"Let us begin."

It was probably just me, but I saw Elladan's thumb caressing Callie's hand in his, briefly, just before the twins started muttering words in ancient Elvish, and I felt a tug at my feä (spirit).

Before long, I was drowned in the sea of memories that weren't mine. It was overwhelming, then I heard Uncle Ro's voice guiding me.

Sift through all of it. Focus one at a time on the ones that are most clear to you–those are her strong memories.

I did as I told, and when I do find that one memory, it led to one after another, forming a chain of memories that could be observed either from my point of view or from naneth's herself.

***

[THIRD PERSON POV]

A man with short and curly black hair and a pair of square glasses framing his brown, playful eyes, were smiling fondly at young Leane.

"Parfaite," he said with a funny accent.

"Parfaite," repeated Leane. Her face rounder then, indicating that she was but a teenager.

"You must feel the French, darling. It comes from the throat. Repeat after me: Parfaite," the man said dramatically whilst making an ok sign.

Leane lift up her index finger to her father for a timeout. Then she grabbed her glass of water and gurgled it, making her father chuckled. She put down the water, then straightened her shoulders and looked at him, making an ok sign. "Parfaite," she said with a heavier accent.

"Bien joué, chérie!" exclaimed her father, mirth was in his laughing eyes.

The scene changed.

Leane was sixteen now. She was eavesdropping on her parents.

Asher realized then that it was where Caladwen got her tendency for eavesdropping.

"Honey, the money from our house sale is running out soon. I need your signature so that I can cash out on Leane and Jake's college fund”, said a female with a brown hair.

Leane's father, now looked paler and somehow seemed as if a dire sickness had taken over him, took the pen from her hand, then put it on the bedside table.

"Touching that money is the last thing I want. We must have faith, Ann–"

"Look, we only have about six months worth of money left. We really should consider this," pleaded Leane's mother, "This way we can move forward with a more agressive treatment for you. You'll get on your feet soon enough to find me as much money as want," she held his chin gently, adding the last part playfully, making him chuckle.

"No, Ann. It's our kids' money. Do you even consult them?"

Leane decided to come out of her hiding. "She didn't have to," she said defending her mother. "Your well being is our number one priority, dad."

Ann smiled at her. "See?"

"No. You're going to college soon."

"College can wait."

"I am not having this conversation."

"What about a deal, something we all can agree?" interrupted Ann. She sighed. "A month. If your treatment is showing progress, we hold off cashing out the fund. If not, you will sign or else."

Her mother's petty threat made Leane chuckle.

"The wrath of the wife. I am truly scared," joked Leane's father. "Three months," he bargained.

"That's too long."

"Three. I'm optimistic."

Leane wanted to argue, had a feeling that she should have argued, but instead she let her mother decided for them.

"Fine. Three months."

The scene changed.

Leane wasn't going to wait and did nothing while their family's finances hung in a balance. She took a job after school, being a waiter at a local diner.

She smiled at her patrons despite the fatigue she was feeling. "What can I get you gentlemen?"

"Three cokes, a jumbo charcoal burger, a fish and chips and a bolognaise spaghetti," answered the young man in the baseball jacket. His green eyes were all over her, but she pretended not to notice.

Leane repeated their order before adding, reading through the list on her note. "Anything else?"

"How about you on my lap?"

The table erupted with laughter, a demeaning one. Leane's face heated up in both embarassment and suppressed anger, but her voice came out calm and collected. "I'll be arriving with your food in a moment." She said stoically, offering them a stiff smile before walking away.

The scene changed.

Leane stormed the hospital, ignoring the friendly greeting from the nurses and doctor who worked there. She burst through her father's door with a wrath and ferocity in her teenage eyes.

"You want to die? Is this some lame dad joke to you?" she seethed.

His father, quite startled at seeing her bubling rage, but saw through the pain in her eyes. In his attempt to lighten up her mood, he scooted a bit to the edge of his bed and tapped on the spot beside him. "You always know how to make a dramatic entrance."

Leane obliged and sat next to him stiffly. "Tell me that mom is pulling my leg."

He put the arm that were free from IV tubes around her delicate shoulders. "You are seventeen. I consider that you are an adult now. So I will not sugarcoat this, darling."

Leane bit her lip in distress. He continued.

"I am in a lot of pain. All the time," he confessed, his eyes glassed over. "I would more likely develop potentially morphine-resistant pain and suffer personality changes, and verbal, cognitive and motor loss of virtually any kind. Because the rest of my body is young and healthy, I am likely to physically hang on for a long time even though cancer is eating my mind. I probably would have suffered in hospice care for weeks or even months. And our family would have had to watch that," he said with a tremble in his voice, "And I can't have that."

"We will take care of you, dad. No matter how long it takes. What you need is to keep optimistic–"

"–it is time to accept the fact that there is no treatment that would save my life, and the recommended treatments would have destroyed the time I had left with you."

Leane shook her head stubbornly, refusing to look at him. Her expression were hard yet her reddened eyes depicted the pain that she insistently pushed down.

"This family have suffered enough because of this cancer. I won't let it hurt us any longer."

"No," she replied curtly, fire still in her eyes.

"What if I told you that I want this not just for us, but for my own selfish reason? I want you to remember me as I am when I'm still within my right mind. I–" her father chuckled bitterly, "I don't want to be remembered as a vegetable."

Leane looked at him angrily, but seeing his suppresed chuckle at the word vegetable, she softened. "You already look like a vegetable, dad," she sulked, hiding her pain behind her rather mean joke.

"Wow. That hurts. I might be bald now but your mom still thinks that I look as handsome as ever. I'm rocking this Agent 47 hairless style."

With that, Leane chuckled through her unshed tears, and looked at him with much adoration and pain. Her eyes were pleading, but so was her father’s.

"Please let me go, Leigh Ann," he pleaded, "For me."

Leane felt herself began to crumble. Her breath came out hard and dragged with pain, that dam of frustration and grief that she was keeping at bay were spilling out of her. "I'll never love someone as much I love you," she cried in anguish, “Never again.”

"Oh, I hope that's not true," he pulled his crying daughter into a tight embrace, comfortingly rubbing her arm. "Someday you will forget about all this pain, then you will meet many many people who love you. And you will love them in return."

The scene changed.

It was the day that they dreaded for. As per her father request, he asked for the whole family to fly to Oregon, one of the five states of US that allowed for him to be euthanized at will.

“No children ought to watch their father die,” said Leane’s father. “Go, Ann, take them. Don’t look back.”

Having to be strong for their children, the woman took both her son and daughter out of the room after their farewell. As they walked at the cold hall of the hospital, through her eyes, Leane saw two nurses entered the room where they were in just now, carrying a sterile box that she knew contained the poison that would kill her father.

At the sight of it, something inside her snapped. Despite what her father had made her agree, she would never stop fighting for him, even when he had already given up himself.

Out of her mother’s arm, Leane broke free, then ran towards the nurse carrying the box and pounced on him. There was a certain desperation and grief that had somewhat transformed into frenzy, and at the moment, she was out of control.

“Don’t hurt my dad!” she screamed, in hysteria, “You’re going to kill him–let me go!” she yelled when another nurse pulled her back. She managed to elbowed the other nurse, when a male doctor, much bigger than her, grabbed her by the arms in a bear hug. The nurse who carried the box, after shaking himself off of his shock, quickly got up and entered the room, closing it behind him.

“NO!!! LET ME GO! DON’T KILL HIM!” she wailed on top of her lungs, before a nurse put a sedating injection to her arm. 

The effect of the injection was felt within seconds. Suddenly Leane lost all her strength. She felt the doctor’s hold loosened on her, and with her last conscious effort, she grabbed at his blue, surgical shirt. “Please don’t let him kill my dad. Please let him live.”

The last thing that Leane remembered was the kind, sympathetic blue eyes of the doctor. And somewhere, next to them, she heard her mother and Jake sniffling their cries.

The scene changed.

"...But you don't need to work anymore. You still have the fund for college."

Leane took a sharp breath. "Keep it. I don't want the money," she replied before taking her messenger bag and got up from the dining table. "I'm late–"

"You're not the only one heartbroken," her mother spoke up, tears welling her eyes. "I am too. Your brother is too."

Leane felt herself softened at hearing the desperation in her mother’s voice. She dropped her bag and went to hug her mother. "I know, mom," she said with much difficulty. She planted a kiss on her cheek, then looked her in the eyes. "I know."

The scene changed.

Leane was twenty one years old now. While her friends were busy partying, she was busy juggling two jobs, between giving little kids tutor in piano and working as a waiter.

After giving the bill to a patron, Leane, looking exhausted, still managed to pose and flirted with the barista. And it would’ve worked had the barista wasn’t gay.

"Esposito, Espo baby," she said with a sultry voice as she rested her elbow on the counter and her head on her hand. "I'm feeling a little thirsty."

Reading through her, the barista gave her a look. "You've had four already today. Shit's gonna kill you," he said seriously as he polished coffee cups and put them on top of the coffee machine to warm them up.

She broke her act, dropping her head in fatigue then lifted her head up, pouting at him. "I'm so tired I didn't get to sleep last night studying for finals," she whined, giving her friend the puppy eyes. "I need the kick or I'll keel over. Please?"

He sighed. Espo took an espresso cup and put it under the coffee machine before turning it on. "One shot of espresso coming up."

Leane grinned. "Thanks. Make that double."

The scene changed again.

The huge room was filled with men and women wearing a robe and a toga on their heads. Leane stepped up the stage after being announced, receiving certificates and a clap from the whole room as she now graduated with honor, bearing a law degree in cum laude.

The scene changed again.

Leane was twenty five years old now. Her black pumps clicked as she made her way to the office of the Madam Secretary. She was wearing a white dress shirt and a black pencil skirt that molded to her shape perfectly. With her glowing dark hair being let down, she was gorgeous.

She didn't notice the stares she got, for she was too busy running through her files looking for Madam Secretary's daily schedule.

Fast forward to that night, the Madam Secretary had went home, and she was left working late night at the office with only four or five people left.

A loud yawn came from a man in his thirties, and Leane watched in amusement as he stretched and got up from his seat, taking his jacket.

"I'm beat," he said, putting on his jacket to complete his sharp four piece suit. "I'm a bodyguard, an ex military. I think I am too good for this administrative crap. Give me some action," he complained.

Leane only chuckled as she turned her dark eyes back towards the screen in front of her.

"I miss my wife and kids, gonna head home hoping to catch the boys before they go to bed. You need a ride, chica?"

The thought of returning to her empty apartment was unappealing. "Nah, I'll pass, thanks. You go, Grant. I'm good."

"Ah yes, I forgot. You're married to your job."

Leane laughed. “Sarcasm noted.”

"Luke will be here to check out around eleven pm. Make sure you have him getting you home safely instead of getting Uber."

"Yessir."

The scene changed.

It was now daylight, and Grant was driving the government-issued sedan with Leane sitting at the back of the passenger seat. They were just on the way to get to Madam Secretary's house.

Grant looked at his friend through the mirror. "So last night my wife told me this joke."

"What about we wait until we get to Madam Secretary's house? She loves a good joke," offered Leane as she went through her daily schedule one by one.

"Negative. Under no circumstances she hears this joke. She'll fire me, or worse, send me back to Qandahar."

Leane looked up from her tablet and grinned. "That sounds like a juicy joke. Let's hear it."

"Alright. So A rabbi, a Hindu priest, and a politician went–"

"–Come on!" laughed Leane. "Not one of those lame bar jokes again."

"Nah, girl, hear me out. This is different. So a rabbi, a Hindu priest, and a politician went for a hike. Night fell and they were exhausted. The hotel on the map was nowhere to be seen. They knocked on the door of a farm and asked if they could spend the night.

The farmer said, 'Of course, but I only have a small room with two beds. One of you will have to sleep in the barn.' The Hindu priest said, 'I need no material comforts. I will gladly take the barn.'

So with that being said, the rabbi and the politician were settling in when they heard a knock on the door. They opened it to find the Hindu priest standing there.

'So sorry, my friends, but there is a cow in the barn, and I cannot sleep beside such a holy animal.' The rabbi said, 'No problem, my brother. I’ll take the barn.'

So the Hindu priest and the politician were settling in when they heard a knock on the door. They opened it to find the rabbi standing there.

'So sorry, my friends, but there’s a pig in the barn, and I can’t sleep beside such a filthy animal.'

The politician said, 'OK, let it be remembered that I sacrificed my comfort for the greater good.'

The rabbi and the Hindu priest were settling in, when again, they heard a knock on the door. Guess who they found standing at the door?" asked the ex military man to his colleague.

Leane shook her head, clueless. "The politician?"

"Nah, girl. You're wrong. When they open the door, the pig and the cow were standing there."

Their collective laughter filled the sedan, and Leane felt as if she was about to die of laughter that she didn't realize that Grant had long gone quiet.

The ex military man's expression had turned a hundred and eighty degrees from how he was just seconds ago.

"We're being followed," Grant alerted her out of the blue as Leane noticed his laser focused eyes through the rearview mirror, "Fasten your seatbelt and get down," he ordered.

He floored the gas of car in a sudden, dodging other cars and took several shortcuts that Leane didn't know exist or bothered to look at. She watched Grant through the mirror as he called for backup through his earpiece.

"343, Dispatch," he said in a calm, yet tensed manner.

"...43 show me Code 6 at 113 Avenue A, I have a possible gunmen following us on a white van. I repeat, possible gunmen following us on a white van. I have a civilian with me. Requesting some units as we are heading North on Avenue A."

And just when Leane thought that they've lost lost their tail, a van stopped in front of their car, and a minibus hit them from behind, rendering them confused for a moment.

Five armed men in ski masks came out and broke the car's window and yanked both of them out in which they had to yield since they were outnumbered and hopelessly outgunned. The attackers spoke in a strange language and they started dragging Leane by her hair harshly towards the van. Fear consumed her as she was looking for help to her friend.

Rage and a murderous look etched across Grant's face as he saw his friend being manhandled roughly by those animals.

"Don't you dare put a hand on her, you bastards!" he shouted as he started kicking the guy that held him and fought off another who came at him. He pulled out his gun out of nowhere and took a shot at one guy.

The sound rang in Leane's ears as one of their attackers returned fire and shot him in the gut. She watched with disbelieve as Grant fell on his knees.

A scream tore from her throat as she locked eyes with Grant. She kicked, she flailed and fought the man who held her; feeling her rage and anger took away her fear at the sight of Grant barely staying conscious. Grant looked at her with a look that spoke comfort to her, although pain and rage molded in his expression.

Another shot tore through the air, and this time, it effectively killed Grant.

"NO!" Leane screamed and trashed, managed to elbow one kidnapper on the face. But before she could reach Grant, the others had caught her again.

"GRANT! NO!"

Disbelief and rage was the last thing she registered in mind before a sharp pain hit the back of her head. The vision of Grant's unfocused and empty eyes were burned at her mind as she watched him lying on the cold pavement, drowning in the pool of his own blood.

They just left the poor man there, at the alley, next to the piles of garbage.

The scene changed.

This time, the memory was so vivid that Asher found himself standing at the dark, perfectly squared cave, that he was able to breathe in the dampness and the cold of the room. The smell of blood rust filled the air, along with it, his naneth’s misery.

With much trepidation and anger, he watched as the men hit and kicked his naneth. As if she was of no worth. As if she was not a princess. Asher stood frozen as he watched them helplessly breaking her fingers and left her there for days to starve.

"Tell me when and where is your beloved Secretary of Defense going to have her secret meeting with your President and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs."

Beneath all that pain and hunger, Asher saw that glint of stubbornness in his naneth's eyes. "I pledge... allegiance to the Flag of the United Sta-"

They didn't let her finish. Asher wanted to cry as he watched him treating his nana so cruelly, without mercy. He watched with a broken heart how he slapped her and kicked her until she coughed up blood.

"TELL ME!"

"I don't know!" cried naneth. Her cries transformed into screams of agony as he kept torturing her, even when she had stopped moving altogether.

The scene changed.

"Madam Secretary, and Mister President," an eastern man began."Thank you for agreeing to speak with me. Now let's get straight to the matters at hand. What we want here, Madam Secretary and Mister President, is the information to the whereabouts of our ship carrying our intelligence and weaponry that you kept from us."

"Just tell us where it is, Madam Secretary, and I would return your faithful, patriotic assistant to you, alive and in one piece."

He chuckled darkly. "Come on Ruth, we know how much you love Leigh Ann, how she reminded you of your dead daughter."

"Give us this information and you have my word, I will return her alive and we would not harm your people in New York who are going to be celebrating New Year with their family, friends and loved ones," he said taunting them.

The woman in the strange moving box now was visibly breathing hardly and trying hard to control her sobs while the another man, face filled of rage and frustration sat next to her. For some reason, Asher knew they could see his naneth through whatever device that stood on three legs in front of naneth sitting form.

"D-don't give it to t-them, Madam Secretary," the elf heard her trembling voice. The man behind her laughed and yanked her head back.

Asher felt his feä in that cold, dark and damp room with her. He was but a spirit, invisible to their eyes. He could do nothing but to kneel beside her and looked up at her sweet face.

Her lips were trembling, but the fight in her eyes were unquenchable. Not even that dirt, nor sweat, nor blood, nor pain could hid that from her.

"What are you doing, nana? Why must you place yourself in this position?" Asher wondered, his heart broke at the sight of his mother. "Just give in. Give them what they want. Why won't you give it up and walk away from this fate?" He pleaded, despite knowing that she could not hear him.

"Thousands upon thousands of lives of your innocent people are in your hands, Mr. President. Come on, save them. Save her. Give me the location," the man taunted, his eyes glinting with darkness and evil as he smiled.

Asher looked at his nana in realization.

She was protecting her people's lives. Thousands upon thousands of them–t’was such an enormous lives depended on her secrecy.

He saw a plan formed in his naneth's head as she stared at the moving box in front of her–something that her captor did not see coming.

"They are still here in DC and one of them just came from Ibiza Night Clu-"

Before she could finish, the man grabbed her hair and yanked her senseless to the ground.

"NO!!!" Asher let out a raged scream at him, yet he was trapped in the air, useless, unable to help her, even as he saw the man hurt her and said some final words to the moving box.

"You wasted my patience, Mister President," he spat violently, "Now you and Ruth will get a front row seat as you watch your faithful assistant die slowly and painfully."

The vile man pulled out a dagger, and Asher instinctively looked away as he heard her screams ringing through his elven ears–and he felt Elladan's feä pulling him to a limbo.

The scene changed.

She was now dressed in a strange attire, her eyes glued at the first time she laid her eyes on an ellon–ada. Asher experienced how her heart skipped a beat, how she was unable to meet his ada's eyes that resembled his own.

After that, the face of ada kept coming on and off on her memory chain with various of expression. Stoic, happy, mischievous, serious...tender.

Their silly banters.

Their first kiss.

Stolen kisses.

Her visions, of King Elessar's death, ada's death, and the lost of the War of The Ring. And by Manwë's grace, she fought the vision so hard, cancelling the design of the enemies with her wit and bravery.

Asher finally understood the incredible strength it took for her to look away from lending the aid she could give to the Shieldmaiden of Rohan and her dying king. Sacrificing her own humanity so the world did not end at the Battle of Pelenor.

Her love and the crippling remorse that came with putting down her first mare, the token of love that ada gifted her.

The scene changed.

This time Asher felt as if he almost have a heart attack, for she was standing and talking eye to eye with who he believed to be none other than Yavanna and Estë themselves, in all their glory. He felt his knees shook at the sight of the Valar, yet his naneth stood there, discussing casually whether or not she should go forth to the Valinor.

The scene changed again, and he found his head hurting at how much information he obtained in such a short time.

Naneth was cowering in the bathroom, in a bathing robe, talking and giving herself a pep talk. If his head wasn't hurting, he would've laughed at her. His naneth emerged out of the bathroom in Gondor, to find his ada standing barefoot, staring up at the moon.

"Stargazing, are we?" He heard her sweet and gentle voice rang in the crisp, night air of Gondor.

When he saw his ada looking at his naneth, detecting the nervousness and other emotion that he had never seen in his eyes, then him pulling her towards the bed with a long kiss, it was Asher's cue to leave the memory of their first night behind.

The sun shone shyly, leaving the sky grey but fluttering with the first snow of Erintion. The elf prince saw his naneth and ada being in each other's arms, surrounded by the frozen lake as the sound of the music of the Winter Solstice from afar filled the air.

A wish.

The scene changed. He saw her smile so softly as she laid eyes on a babe in her arms for the first time. Ada was sitting next to her, admiring the baby with her. Love and wonder in their faces. He turned to her. "Asher it is."

The next scene was of her seeing Caladwen for the first time with no less joy than the one she had when she first saw Asher's baby self.

The other scenes were brief, and almost all of them were filled with him and Caladwen growing up, and their ada being next to her.

Then comes the face of her friends that were in the Fellowship of the Ring. The hobbits, cheerful as they were yet now old and thin; Gimli, with much fire in his beady little eyes but he too, had been showing signs of aging, red beard turning gray. Aragorn, wise and kind, the last living member alive safe for naneth, ada and Gimli, were as he was now, talking about not being able to travel for long anymore.

He felt how it hit nana hard–the fact that King Aragorn was not young anymore.

That day of the feast, when she saw how grown up Caladwen was in her beige colored dress, and how emotional she became. How someday, she though, Caladwen too, was going to be taken away from her.

Asher realized that these were her recent memories. And all of them were dancing around the same theme: Death, and the fear of the signs of the expiration of the human race, even towards her own immortal children.

***

[Author's Note: We probably need Part 5 for this thing lolz. Sorry for the angst! Also who else thinks that Hans Zimmer is a music genius? Review?]