Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to Gene Roddenberry. The Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. I am both humbled and delighted to be able to borrow their playgrounds, bringing with me a few of my own toys. Not exactly a crossover as such - only about as much as Qpid is a Robin Hood crossover - but I do make extensive use of Middle-Earth. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. So, without further adieu…

Than-Q

Chapter One
An Unexpected Party Guest

"I hear they drummed you out of the Continuum."

Guinan was gloating. Guinan. That's what the humans were calling her now. And Q was in no mood to enlighten them further. "I like to think of it as a significant career change."

"Just one of the boys, eh?"

Q met the creature's smug smile with a cold glare. "One of the boys with an IQ of two thousand and five." Even exiled and stripped of his powers, Q's knowledge and experience outweighed anyone else's aboard this ship, and he wasn't about to let them forget it.

"The Captain and many of the crew are not yet convinced he is truly human." The android. Data. Runner-up in the intelligence race, but still light-years behind.

"Really?"

Pain. Sudden and sharp and unexpected. She had stabbed him! Q yelped and cradled his hand. "Seems human enough to me," Guinan concluded.

Q opened his mouth to warn Data of how dangerous "Guinan" was, but a voice from behind interrupted his thoughts. "Hey! Leave him alone! What'd he do to you?"

Q turned, startled. He hadn't expected anyone to defend him, least of all a stranger. The voice belonged to a teenage girl, sandy-haired and red-faced with anger, her bright grey eyes fixed on the being before her in the guise of a bartender.

Guinan's gloating expression grew grave. "Brooke, you don't understand who this is." She turned a stone-cold gaze at Q. "This is Brooke Warrington. Her mother was killed during our encounter with the Borg."

It didn't take the teenager long to piece together the only reason Guinan would think that would be significant to the stranger. "You're Q."

Before Q could do more than nod his confirmation, they were all distracted by what appeared to be a white, glowing cloud. The Calamarain. Q jumped up, forgetting for a moment that he had no powers, no means to fend off their attack. Instead, he was helpless as they began to engulf him in their white cloud.

Pain. The stinging sensation in his hand faded to nothing as the Calamarain surrounded him with pain. Perhaps this was what fire felt like. Q could hear his own voice crying out for help as he flailed wildly against his attackers.

Suddenly, a hand closed around his wrist, steadying him. The pain diminished, if only slightly. The Calamarain's attention was divided. Q grasped his would-be rescuer's wrist tightly, clinging to that one bit of relief from the pain. A moment later, without warning, the Calamarain vanished, and both of them crumpled to the floor in a heap.

Data and Guinan rushed immediately to Q's side, but he wasn't the subject of their concern. Beside him, motionless, her cold hand still wrapped tightly around his wrist as his was around hers, lay Brooke.

Perched high on the thin branch of a tree, Q smiled. The limb was steady beneath him; the laws of gravity meant nothing to the entity. Nor did the lower branches obstruct his view of what was happening below. He could see everything.

Not that 'everything' was particularly interesting at the moment. Two teenagers - a boy and a girl - were battling large, ugly creatures with white hands painted on their faces. They were fighting with swords, of all things, and some of the creatures had bows. Rather boring. Eventually, the creatures would win. In fact, he would have left a long time ago, or never come, if not for one small detail.

The boy was Wesley Crusher, barefoot and dressed in simple clothes, his sword glowing a pale blue. A ring on a chain about his neck left no question as to who he was supposed to be. He was actually doing fairly well, but he was tiring, his breathing growing harder and more uneven.

The girl was trying, with some measure of success, to draw the Uruk-Hai away from him. Every once in a while between blows, she would raise her horn to her lips and give a long blast. This annoyed Wesley as much as it amused Q. The girl's sandy hair was damp with sweat, but a light was in her grey eyes and a smile on her face.

Q laughed to himself as she called to Wesley to ask if he needed help. Wesley stubbornly called back no, just as anyone else would have. The girl shrugged and gave her horn another blast. Wesley scowled.

The only reason Wesley was here, Q knew, was to keep an eye on the girl. No doubt Brooke knew that, too, and was just as amused. Captain Picard was curious, for the same reason Q was.

The shock of the Calamarain's attack had sent Brooke into a coma - a coma that Q had made sure to bring her out of once his powers were restored. She had helped him. Distracted the Calamarain, if only for a moment. That one act, that one attempt to help, had earned her Q's respect, as well as the suspicion of the crew of the Enterprise, including her father, who now rarely spoke to her. And now Captain Picard had instructed Wesley to keep a close eye on her. All because of one impulsive move.

Still, impulses seemed to serve Brooke well, Q noted as he watched the two of them. Wesley was more thoughtful, more analytical, and that sometimes made him hesitate. Brooke's decisiveness was a useful quality in a battle like this one.

Suddenly, another Uruk-Hai appeared, a rather large, ugly one with a bow. Brooke noticed, and easily sidestepped to place another Uruk between herself and the newcomer. Wesley's attention was elsewhere, and an arrow flew straight for him. Brooke sprang over immediately and threw him to the ground, but didn't have time to dodge the arrow herself as they tumbled. They rolled over each other for a moment before Wesley yelled what Brooke hadn't thought to. "Computer, freeze program!"

The computer immediately obeyed, and a mocking smile broke out on Brooke's face. "My hero."

Wesley wasn't in the mood. "I just saved your life."

"No, you just refused to let the game play out as soon as it didn't go exactly the way you wanted." Brooke winced as she plucked the arrow from her shoulder; they had been carefully programmed to only scratch the surface, but it had caught in her armor. "Where's the fun in a game you can end as soon as the tide starts to turn against you?"

"You'd rather play it out and die?" Wesley demanded, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Brooke shook her head. "No, Frodo, because I thought of what you didn't." She held up the Ring on its chain. "I took it from you when we fell," she explained to a bewildered Wesley. "If you'd have given me a few more seconds before calling time-out, Boromir would have been out of here."

"And you'd have left me here to die."

"Maybe," Brooke shrugged, "and maybe I'd have brought the rest of the Fellowship back with me to save your life. The point is, we'll never know, because you called foul, Frodo."

"Stop calling me that!" Wesley insisted. "The game's over!"

"Oh, no," Q laughed, appearing in front of the pair. "It's only just beginning." There was a bright flash of light, and then darkness.

Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise, its continuing mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone before…

Brooke blinked. The fog was beginning to lift. No matter right now where it had come from; it was lifting. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. There were figures around her, so many shapes.

At last, she could make out some of them, and immediately hoped she was dreaming. Captain Picard. Commander Riker. Commander Data. Lieutenant LaForge. Lieutenant Worf. Counselor Troi. Dr. Crusher. Wesley. They were all there, all confused and upset, and all dressed very strangely.

Then she looked around, and her eyes came to rest on a figure she recognized immediately. It couldn't be. But it had to be. And if he was there, then she knew exactly where they were. All of Rivendell was staring at them, watching. Someone had to do something.

Brooke's hand flew to her belt, and yes! It was there. Exactly what she needed. As if in a dream, she brought the horn to her lips and gave a long blast. Strong and clear, it echoed through the clearing, and the words she needed came to her without thought. "Loud and clear it sounds in the valleys of the hills," she smiled. "And then let the foes of Gondor flee."

That registered with Commander Riker, on the other side of the group. "Gondor? You mean—"

"Shhh," Brooke cut him off.

Elrond was already speaking. "Slow should you be to wind that horn again, Boromir, until you stand once more on the borders of your land, and dire need is on you."

Brooke couldn't take her eyes off the Elf-lord. "Perhaps," she nodded, meeting his gaze. "But I have always let my horn cry at setting forth, and though hereafter we may walk in shadows, I will not go forth as a thief in the night."

Elrond seemed to accept that reply, and released Brooke from his gaze. Brooke at last relaxed a little, enough to look around at the crew of the Enterprise. Worf and Wesley were fuming, and Captain Picard was quickly losing patience, but the others looked more confused than angry.

"What is all this, Brooke?" Dr. Crusher asked in a whisper. "Do you know what's going on?"

Captain Picard took the hint. "Where are we? And … who are we?"

Brooke nodded. A fair question. They were all strangely clad and carried quite an assortment of weapons. But they couldn't talk here. "I'll explain, really," she whispered. "Just let me get us out of Rivendell first."

"Where?"

"Shhh. Just follow my lead."

Captain Picard clearly did not like being shushed, but he had no other choice.

"On you who go with him," Elrond was saying, either oblivious to the discussion or choosing to ignore it, "no oath nor bond is laid to go further than you will. For you do not yet know the strength of your hearts, and you cannot foresee what each may meet upon the road."

Brooke looked over at Worf, but he looked more likely to try to strangle the Elf-lord than to say his line. "Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens," Brooke called out, and, to her relief, Elrond didn't appear surprised by where the comment had come from.

"Maybe," he said sternly. "But let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall."

Brooke blinked. For a moment, it had felt as if those words were meant not for Gimli, for whom they were intended, nor for Boromir, whom she represented, but for Brooke Warrington of the starship Enterprise. Only when Wesley, not very discreetly, jabbed her sharply in the side with his elbow did she remember that she was supposed to say something. "Yet sworn word may strengthen quaking heart."

"Or break it," the Elf-lord countered. "Look not too far ahead! But go now with good hearts, and may the blessings of Elves and Men and all free folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your faces."

"Go," Brooke whispered to Captain Picard, motioning towards the path that led away from Rivendell. "That way. Go. Lead us out."

Picard still looked thoroughly confused, but turned to go, with Wesley close behind him. Doctor Crusher followed, then Data and Geordi. Worf followed a little ways behind, and at the back came Troi and Riker with Brooke.

Suddenly, she realized that they'd stopped, and saw that the path had forked. "Left," she whispered to the front. "Go left."

Picard did as he was told, and they were soon out. As soon as Picard guessed they were safely out of earshot, he stopped. "What was that?"

Brooke at last got a good look at her companions, and could barely contain a laugh. Captain Picard was dressed in a long grey robe. A tall hat was on his head, and a staff was in his hand. Glamdring hung in a sheath at his side.

Riker looked slightly more normal. His hair was longer and his clothes old and weather-stained. Anduril hung at his side, and Brooke was surprised to see the Ring of Barahir on his hand. Details. Q was certainly paying terribly close attention to details.

Wesley, Dr. Crusher, Geordi, and Data had all been given curlier hair and pointed ears. Brooke held back another laugh; they even had hairy feet! Wesley was fingering a ring that hung around his neck, and his mother carried an assortment of pots and pans in her pack, making a rattling noise when she walked. All four carried short swords, but only Wesley looked angry enough to use one.

Worf, as well, seemed to be deciding which of his axes would do the most good. He was covered in armor, and a helmet was on his head.

Troi, on the other hand, was now armed with a bow and a quiver of arrows, though the thought of her actually using them made Brooke smile. Her hair was much straighter than normal and ran long down her back. She, too, had pointed ears.

Brooke's costume hadn't changed much from her holodeck program. She had armor, a sword, a shield, boots, thick leather gloves, and, of course, the Horn of Gondor.

And now, she also had everyone's attention.

"We're in Middle-Earth," she said, trying to keep it simple. "We were brought here by Q; I'm not sure why."

"Q," Picard grumbled. "I should've guessed."

Brooke shrugged. "Yeah, but no harm done, except a couple strange looks from the Elves back there when I was the only one to do any talking."

Troi was still confused. "Wait. Middle-Earth? Where's that?"

"Where's Middle-Earth?" came a voice, and Q appeared in front of them. "Why, my dear, ignorant Elf, Middle-Earth is what's all around you."

"I believe I can provide a clearer definition," Data piped up. "He is referring to the literary world created by a human by the name of J.R.R. Tolkien in Earth's twentieth century, which is the setting for, among other books, The Lord of the Rings."

"My dear Pippin," Q sighed. "We simply can't have that kind of nonsense running loose outside of Rivendell." He snapped his fingers in front of Data's face.

"Data, are you all right?" Picard asked.

"Yes, but … I believe he has erased all my memory of this world and the books surrounding it."

Picard turned on Q. "Why?"

"Because you don't need it," Q shrugged. "You have another expert among you, Gandalf, and I'm not referring to Aragorn, who read the books as a child, nor to Frodo, who only just finished The Hobbit."

"You mean Brooke," Riker reasoned.

"Well done, Aragorn," Q grinned. "As a few of you may have guessed, you are the Fellowship of the Ring. Your task is to destroy the Ring of Power that Frodo-" he pointed to Wesley, "—carries." He turned to Brooke with a smile. "Have fun."

The Fellowship stared as Q disappeared. At last, Worf gave a growl. "Well, what are we waiting for?"