*A/N* Hello all this is my first attempt at a LOTR fan fic. Please be gentle with me I bruise easily. I am more familiar with the movies than the books but I have read them several times. If you spot any inconsistencies I cry author's liberty and creative license. I don't want to hear about getting someone's geneology wrong or changing a character's base underlying motive. I am just trying my hand at some crazy sci-fi fantasy ploy bunnies that have been beating my ass for weeks. So here's the first chapter let me know if I should keep going...

"And I thought nothing smelled worse than the Uruk barracks."

A soft chuckle in the gloom re-acquainted the dwarf with Aragorn's location. In the aftermath of the Ent's last march, the flood waters had receded leaving behind evidence of great carnage, Orc and Urukhai corpses littered the ground and the floors of the lower levels of Saruman's tower.

Saruman the White had met his end is a decidedly less than dignified way at the hand of Grima Wormtongue, fitting as his death was in it's own way it put Gandalf in a bit of a quandry. The newly returned White wizard had hoped to probe the mind of his former mentor and divulge the location of any more artifacts like the palantir Pippin had found. The thought of leaving the tower unattended with hidden magical items ripe for the picking by the inevitable looters and squatters was less than savory.

Gandalf had deemed it necessary to stay a short while to allow him time to scour Saruman's tower for anything that must be safeguarded. It was welcome news to the remains of the fellowship; they had traveled hard days and nights in pursuit of Merry and Pippin who had participated in the last march of the Ents, and all appreciated the chance for a brief reprieve before their departure to Rohan.

Aragorn and Gimli had taken it upon themselves to explore the lower levels of the tower in search of anything that might warrant Gandalf's expert hand. When they entered the barracks that had formerly housed the Urukhai they were joined by Legolas who, after having been informed of the purpose for their search, decided he was more inclined to help them secure the grounds than to assist the hobbits in their noble pursuit of smoking themselves into comfortable oblivion.

After spending most of the day picking their way through debris on the ground level of the tower, the three companions found themselves staring down a staircase that twisted downward into darkness. Aragorn and Gimli halted just inside the doorway at the bottom, it seemed unlikely they would find anything here save more corpses as the slickness on the floor and walls spoke of recent flooding.

Legolas appeared behind them, a pair of torches in hand, Aragorn accepted one and the trio moved deeper into the chamber.

"A dungeon."

The ranger spoke softly as his gray eyes took in the metal bars stretched between squat pillars forming two rows of cells that ran the length of the stone walls. From the smell he could tell this dungeon had been worse than most, the product of Orc hygiene no doubt. He moved toward the first cell and lifted his torch illuminating the bodies inside, they lay there, limbs akimbo, littering the floor within. A cursory glance told him some of them had been dead long before the chamber filled with water and those who had not been were terribly scarred and recently injured.

Aragorn turned from the sight in disgust, he knew not why these prisoners had been held here but he was fairly certain it was not for crimes deserving of such treatment. He saw Gimli in the center aisle turn over the corpse of an orc with his foot resulting in a quiet jingle.

'Keys.'

The thought sat in his mind without recognition for a moment before he latched onto it and considered what this find meant. These prisoners seemed to be men thus far, no orcs or dwarves to be seen and closer inspection would tell if any of the elves had found themselves ensnared in this pit. It was only right to pay respects to these lost souls and if possible bury them in the earth so they might return to their ancestors.

"Legolas..." he began, his blonde companion turned and gazed on him with ancient eyes.

"I know mellon nin. We will care for the dead." The woodland prince stooped and detached the keys from the stinking orc with a small grimace and moved down the rows, opening each door without investigating them.

"What do ye think they were kept here for lad?" Gimli's gruff voice echoed off the stone.

"Does it matter now?" the elf's response was clipped his tone strained, "they were terribly misused."

Aragorn frowned and studied the walls which were shining and wet with the exception of the back part of the room near the top, it seemed the floor was not level and there had been a cell that had not filled completely. He moved there first, instincts pulling him insistently knowing if there was any life to be found in this hole it would be here or none at all.

He entered the cell tentatively, eyes roving the gruesome contents with fading hope and then he heard it, a soft and rapid wheezing sound. His gaze locked onto the sound and saw a figure curled up in the corner, he started hard for a moment and then a shudder shook the small frame.

"Legolas!" he cried, "This one lives!" Without a second thought, the ranger rushed forward to investigate the pitiful creature who had survived this dark hell. Legolas on his heels and Gimli picking his way over the filth on the floor to peer at a small pale face who looked for all the world like a battered angel.

The boy could not have been more than 10 years of age, he was in terrible shape, a ragged pair of trousers all that covered him. Blue veins stood out against his impossibly pale skin and dull glints of yellow hinted that his matted hair was blonde. The child's eyes were shut only part of the way and his eyelids fluttered weakly, a hand to the brow revealed a high fever raging in his tiny body, his breath coming is short and shallow gasps.

"Gimli hurry and tell Gandalf what we have found! We must get this child warmth and medicine!"

No sooner had Gimli pounded up the stairs did Aragorn bend to carry the boy from this cesspit; he was amazed they had found anyone alive at all but if they were not swift with his care, all would be for naught. He slid his arms under the child and he made to rise but was brought up short by the sensation of a blade at his throat, he froze, aware of Legolas' cry of alarm drowned out by a rough voice speaking heavily accented common tongue in his ear.

"Release him devil or your blood will water the stones!" The ranger weighed his options, he would feel his assailant on his back, not just holding the blade to him but latched onto him, he could feel the muscles in their arms and legs shaking with exertion and the smell that reached his nose told him this was another surviving prisoner.

Legolas had moved swiftly and reached out to take hold of the attacker but Aragorn's voice stopped him.

"Deri Legolas!"[wait Legolas!"] The urgency in his friend's tone brought the elf up short.

"I mean you no harm." Aragorn's words were level and clear, he seemed to speak slowly and enunciate every word, presumably for the benefit of his assailant. He felt the blade move a hairsbreadth from the soft skin of his throat and he paused a moment to consider the next course of action. Gently he lowered the body of the child back to the floor and raised his hands to show they were empty. The weight on his back did not lessen but he could feel more tremors in the slight body that threatened him.

"The child is ill, we mean to help him." No reply was forthcoming for several agonizing moments and he was aware of Legolas silently maneuvering closer to them, his movements were nearly indiscernible but the blade returned to it's place against his throat and pressed painfully, eliciting a gasp from the vulnerable ranger.

Legolas stopped moving.

"You lie. None here help us. You must leave and let me take him." Aragorn knew this was a demand of desperation, as soon as this prisoner released him, Legolas would become vengeance, swift and deadly.

"Garo renc in." [Hold his arms] He said in sindarin, knowing his friend would understand he did not want this prisoner to die. Without a second of hesitation, Aragorn brought his arm up between the prisoner's knife arm and his body, struck outward with all his strength and bent forward at the waist while pulling on the opposite arm effectively throwing the small man to the ground.

Legolas darted in and took hold of the struggling prisoner's upper arms from behind, he moved toward the stone wall and slammed his captive against it face first, with enough force to make him cry out. The sound of that single cry stopped both of them in their tracks.

Legolas swung his head 'round to look at Aragorn whose wide gray eyes met his own in disbelief, the ranger stood and moved next to his friend, reaching out he moved aside the filthy matted hair from the face of his assailant and gasped.

"A woman?" He said in common as he stared at her delicate features distorted by fear and panic. He saw resignation enter her eyes and was struck suddenly by the knowledge that she fully expected them to kill her now.

"Come Legolas, bring her to Gandalf, he will know what to do." The prince of Mirkwood nodded curtly and pulled the strangely limp female away from the wall,she offered no resistance and did not move save for the ever increasing trembling of her frail body. In spite of this Legolas kept a firm hold on her lest she turn into a snarling cornered animal again and set her down upon her own feet. Turning her to look at him he said

"We are not going to hurt you, do not struggle." He locked eyes with her and waited.

She averted her eyes after a moment and her breathing slowed infinitesimally telling the elf she was beginning to calm, she jerked her head hesitantly which he decided to take as assent. His grip on her arms loosened and he took a gentler hold on her elbow steering her toward the stairs and freedom. Aragorn walked ahead of them, the boy-child's form curled in his arms, he reached the ground floor and turned to wait for the others.

Halfway up the stairs Legolas halted without a word and turned his back to the woman who was laboring for air after only a few steps, it was obvious she was terribly weak and on the verge of collapse. The archer crouched down and held his hands toward her indicating she should climb on the woman slumped silently over his broad back allowing her eyes to slide shut, she was unconscious before he straightened.

Page Break

Gandalf stared around himself at the collection of odds and ends scattered across the chamber. Since the discovery of the survivors in Saruman's dungeon he had intensified his efforts, scouring the tower for clues as to their identity or at least what they were being held for.

A deep frown furrowed the old wizard's brow, the writings he had found made no sense, and they spoke of doorways to other worlds so strange that Gandalf was inclined to think Saruman was trying his hand at writing fantastical legends in his spare time. That was before he found this room, contained within were tools and weapons he had never seen the like of.

The first thing he did was ban the hobbits from the room, it would not do to have them fiddle with something dangerous and take their own curly topped heads off. Mithrandir was intrigued by the ingenious design of some of the items while others mystified him completely. He found this quite refreshing as it had been some time since a puzzle had stumped him so completely.

He had just picked up a strange item that looked like a knife except for the inexplicable fact it was folded in half when the door to the room burst open behind him,

"Gandalf!" cried Pippin, "She's awake!" The halfling was out of breath and hung on the door post as he recovered from his headlong flight up the stairs. His bird bright eyes widened as they darted to and fro about the room shining with curiosity. Gandalf stood and made his way to the door.

"How long has she been awake?" he asked, smiling down on the hobbit.

"Almost an hour now." Pippin chirped. The white wizard nodded and placed his hand heavily on Pippin's shoulder,

"Come Peregrin Took." He said, "Lead me to her side." Pippin's head craned around Gandalf to take another look into the room of treasures,

"I'm sure you need someone to, you know - stand guard here or something….right?" The hopeful note in the halfling's tone brought a smile to Gandalf's seamed face.

"I'm sure should I need someone to guard the mysterious items in that room it would not be you, Peregrin Took."

His gruff voice was belied by the reassuring pat to Pippin's shoulder. Gandalf closed the door firmly behind them and after murmuring a few words of incantation, moved off down the stair with Pippin in tow.

Please review. Let me know if this is total shit or if I should keep going...