This story was beta'd by the amazingly talented Ophelia! Any remaining mistakes belong to me.
Disclaimer: I am not male, I am not dead, and my name is not J.R.R. Tolkien. So, alas, I can claim no ownership of Lord of the Rings. Evan and Zack, however, both belong to me.
Evan sat at his desk, poring over a large map that was spread out on the surface. His finger traced a line across the paper, coming to rest on a small point labelled 'Moria'. He muttered something to himself, then continued on to the next point in his path, labelled 'Lothlorien'. Again, he whispered something under his breath before his finger moved on, slowly making its way down the map.
On his fifteenth birthday, his father had presented him with a beautiful, hardcover set of the Lord of the Rings. He had flicked through the first pages out of curiosity, and soon found himself drawn into a world which now seemed more real to him than his own. Every spare moment was spent re-reading Tolkien's works, studying Elvish, poring over maps of Middle-Earth, or simply drifting off into his own fantasy world in which he was able to visit Middle-Earth, and meet those characters that had been the focal point of his life for so long.
Evan Clark was one of those boys who never really seemed to fit in. There was just something about him that set him apart from the other students. Perhaps it was his appearance. Evan was tall and gangly. His brown hair was tangled and unkempt, and fell to his shoulders. He had been growing it ever since first seeing the Lord of the Rings movies, in the hope that it would make him look more like a fierce Elven warrior of old, and less like a skinny, bespectacled schoolboy.
Maybe it was his personality that set him apart. Evan had always had a wild imagination. When he was a little boy, he had shown no interest in video games and television, preferring to stay outside and pretend he was someone else. Perhaps he would be a hermit, living in a cave in the middle of nowhere. Or he could be a fearsome pirate, sailing the seven seas with his trusty crew. One day he might be a tiger, prowling through the long grass in the bush reserve behind their suburban home, stalking birds and lizards. Then, when he started school, he had been fascinated by the amazing learning opportunities that were now open to him. He absorbed himself completely in his studies, satisfying a thirst for knowledge that, until then, he had never known he possessed. The other students had ostracized him, calling him a nerd. Nobody wanted to sit with him; nobody wanted to play with him. So he had spent most of his time in the library, reading anything he could get his hands on.
Then he had started high school. The other students still rejected him, but now their dislike began to express itself in more overt ways. In primary school he had mostly been ignored, with only the occasional muttered insult or nasty comment. By year seven his classmates were reaching puberty, and seemed suddenly driven by a desire to prove their 'manliness' in front of their mates. Evan found himself the victim of insults, pranks and occasionally, beatings that seemed almost ceaseless in coming. Sometimes he would be given a few days reprieve, but then the bullies would return with a new fervour, eager to continue their ridicule.
Evan soon learned to steer clear of the cruel boys who seemed bent on making his life hell. At first he tried to fight back, but after a series of humiliating defeats, he realised his best hope of safety was to stay out of sight. Sometimes the bullies sought him out, but mostly they just forgot about him, too preoccupied with their own lives to care about the doings of a strange, skulking misfit.
In year nine, Evan made his first friend. Joanna was a chubby, socially awkward girl who, like him, was ridiculed and rejected by the social mainstream. One lunch time, he had been in the library researching for a science assignment, and could not find any of the information he needed. Joanna had overheard his frustrating conversation with the librarian, who seemed to take the view that anyone who could not find resources for themselves ought to be thrown out permanently. Shyly, she had approached him, and pointed him towards the books he needed. From then on, the two had been fast friends.
Zack leaned back against the brick wall of the gym, putting his cigarette to his lips once more. He inhaled deeply, twirling it idly between his fingers. Zack Brown was a tall, hulking boy of fifteen, with blonde hair gelled into a short, bristly, spiky style favoured by his group. Zack, Adam, Tyler, Jon and Sam had started hanging out in grade seven, and since then spent most of their time smoking, drinking, and picking on weaker guys. All of them accepted Zack as their leader, because he was the strongest and most ruthless.
"Man, this sucks," grunted Adam, stamping on his cigarette butt.
"How many times you gonna say that?" Growled Jon in annoyance.
"Wanna go to the park?" suggested Tyler.
"We go to the park all the time," protested Sam. "'Bout we go to the store? I'm nearly outta smokes."
The four boys turned to look at Zack, waiting to see what he thought of this proposition. "Yeah, whatever," he shrugged. The group got to their feet and ambled off down the footpath at a leisurely pace, each doing their best to appear calmly intimidating.
Soon they reached a sharp bend in the road. The store was around the corner, on the other side of the road, hidden from view by a large two-storey house sitting right on the bend. The group stepped out onto the road, plodding across slowly.
Zack never saw the car coming. He had glanced backwards to see if Jon and Tyler, who had lagged behind slightly, were still with them. Suddenly, he heard an ear-splitting screech. Something huge and heavy collided with him, and he was airborne. Before he could react, the world went black and he knew no more.
The rain had been pouring down relentlessly all night. It was dawn, and the Fellowship had taken refuge under a large hanging rock to wait out the day. Somehow, their supplies had remained mercifully dry through the downpour, and they had had their weatherproof cloaks to shelter them. Still, the Company were a sullen lot as they sat, huddled against the rock wall, shivering with cold. Of their number, only Legolas seemed relatively unaffected by the miserable weather. He was standing straight-backed just within the shelter of the overhang, peering out into their grey surroundings, tense and alert as he had been the entire journey.
A small frown was forming on the Elf's face, and Aragorn rose and moved to stand beside him.
"Do you see something?" He asked, staring out into the mist.
Legolas shook his head, still looking troubled. "No," he replied thoughtfully. "I can feel something, though. I do not know what it is." As he spoke, he stepped forward out of the shelter of the rock.
Suddenly, there was an odd rushing sound, seemingly coming from all around them. They heard a distant thud, followed by a loud screech. Then, the Elf was gone.
The fellowship all leapt to their feet, stunned. Legolas had simply vanished into thin air, leaving behind no trace. Before they could react, there was another rushing noise. Another figure appeared where the Elf had been, collapsing heavily into the mud.
The hobbits were all rooted to the spot, too shocked and confused to react. The rest of the Fellowship rushed forwards instinctively, their weapons out in a flash. They circled the immobile figure, and quickly saw that he had no weapons. Still, they were extremely wary. What had become of Legolas? And who was this strange newcomer For all they knew he might be a servant of the enemy, sent to spy on them.
It was Gandalf who moved first. He darted forwards and seized the stranger, jerking him roughly to his feet. It was a young boy, no more than fifteen or sixteen. He had short bristly hair, and his garments were like nothing any of the Fellowship had seen before. His eyes were open, but his face bore a glazed look and he was clearly not fully conscious. The wizard dragged him into the shelter and set him down against the wall, then stepped back and waited the boy to regain full consciousness.
After several minutes of nervous tension, the boy stirred. He blinked several times, shaking his head as though to clear it. He stared around placidly for a second, looking thoroughly confused. Suddenly he gave an awful shout, and leapt to his feet.
"Who the fuck are you?" He yelled, panic etched clearly on his face. His fists were balled in front of him, his whole frame tense. He was prepared for a fight. Aragorn stepped forward, pointing his sword towards the stranger. The boy stared at the blade for a minute, looking confused and terrified. He gradually lowered his fists, his eyes fixed fearfully on Aragorn.
"Who are you?" snarled the ranger. "What have you done with our companion?"
The boy stared at him as though he had gone mad. "I haven't done nothin' to your friend!" He exclaimed. "I don't even know where I am. What the hell's going on?"
Aragorn regarded him sternly. "What is your name?"
The boy scowled darkly. "Zack," he spat. "Just tell me what's happening, and where I am!"
Aragorn hesitated, glancing briefly towards his companions, though he kept his sword trained on the newcomer. The Fellowship had inched forward until they surrounded Zack, and were all staring in open curiosity mingled with trepidation. He turned back to face the boy, who looked pale and frightened. He cautiously lowered his sword.
"Do you truly not know where you are?" He asked firmly.
"No!" Spluttered Zack. There was no trace of dishonesty in his expression. "I was just hanging out with my mates, and I think I got hit by a car or something. Next thing I knew, I was here!"
Aragorn was bewildered, though he tried to conceal it. What on earth was the stranger talking about? And how could such an event be possible in any case? Yet the boy was clearly telling the truth. He was alone and defenceless, completely at their mercy.
"Do you know what became of Legolas?" He asked, speaking more gently now that he had decided the boy was no threat.
"Who's Leg'las?" Zack snorted. "What kinda name is that, anyway?" He quickly shut his mouth as the strange man frowned at him. "I don't know anything 'bout your friend," he amended.
Aragorn sighed, and turned to Gandalf. "What is to be done?" He asked the wizard.
Gandalf abandoned his scrutiny of the boy, and shrugged faintly. "We must see if Legolas is to be found," he said. "However, I doubt that we will find him tonight. Clearly there is magic at work here. I think I shall go out and search for him. You, Aragorn, are to accompany me. The rest of the company should rest, for the moment."
Aragorn nodded in agreement. Leaving Sam on first watch, the Ranger and the Wizard left their shelter and melted away into the mist. The rest of the Fellowship made a small show of attempting to sleep, but none of them could bear to rest after the excitement of such strange events. Eventually they gave up, and merely sat quietly, their eyes scanning their surroundings in hope of making anything out through the dense mist. Zack sat on a rock slightly away from the rest of them, rolling a pebble between his fingers, and trying desperately to work out what was happening. He made one brief attempt at gleaning more information from the strange company, but none of them would speak. Eventually he gave up, returning to his seat and staring gloomily at the muddy ground beneath him.
After almost an hour of waiting, Aragorn and Gandalf returned. Legolas was not with them, nor could they find any news of him. Dismayed, the company all turned to Gandalf and began questioning him, but he would not, or could not, give them any clue as to what he thought was going on.
"Peace!" he said after a time. "It is not yet time for questions. Soon, I may be able to tell you some of what you want to know. But for the moment, you all must take some rest. I shall take the watch; I have great need of thought." And with that, he turned his back on them and continued gazing out into the darkness.
Despite the turbulence of their thoughts, they all eventually managed to fall asleep. For many hours, Zack lay awake alone. He had never slept outside before, and he found it to be bitterly cold and extremely uncomfortable. He was also frightened, much as he hated to admit it. Eventually, though, his weariness overcame him, and he fell into a restless sleep.
Legolas had no opportunity to react. One minute, he had been standing under the shelter of the rock. Then, suddenly, the world had begun to spin around him. For a while, everything around him seemed to fade, and time lost all meaning. Whether he was trapped in the dark vortex for several seconds or several weeks, he could not tell. Then abruptly, the sensation stopped and everything came back into clear focus. He was no longer under the rock with the rest of the Fellowship. He was standing in the centre of what appeared to be a small bedroom, though it was like to no place in Middle-Earth. And sitting at a desk in the corner, facing away from him, was a strange figure.
He took in these surroundings in less than a second. Suddenly the figure seemed to recognise his presence, for it whirled around to face him. Legolas found himself staring into the face of a human boy, no more than about fifteen years of age. For a split second he was paralysed with shock. When he registered what was happening, he immediately reached for his bow. But before he could nock it, the boy had turned and fled the room, slamming the door behind him.
Evan dashed down the hallway, his mind in a state of utter confusion. Was he imagining things? Was this all just some twisted dream? There was only one way to find out. He needed to find Charlie.
Evan was the middle child in a family of five. His eldest brother Chris, at nineteen years of age, loved parties, loud music and girls. With fashionably cut blond hair and a muscular build, Chris was very successful with females. He spent most of his time socialising, and was rarely at home.
Cameron was twelve years old. He, too, had blond hair, but he was far shorter and skinnier. His interests included television, computer, and Playstation, and he was almost always staring at some screen or other.
Fourteen year old Tom was a keen athlete and a passionate soccer player. He was average height and very fit, and had brown hair that he kept cropped short so it didn't interfere with his performance in sports.
Of all his brothers, Evan felt closest to Charlie. Charlie was seventeen, and very calm and good-natured. He was what could be described as a people-person, and had a large circle of friends. Despite his popularity, he always seemed to have time for Evan. When he had begun developing his obsession with Lord of the Rings, Charlie had read the books as well. Not because he had any interest in them, but so that Evan would have somebody to discuss his obsession with. He was laid-back and friendly, and seemed to get on with almost everyone he met. Now, he was the only one who just might listen to Evan.
Evan burst into his brother's room without knocking. Charlie looked up from the textbook he was poring over, surprised. He opened his mouth to speak, but Evan cut him off.
"Charlie, you've got to come! There's an Elf in my bedroom!"
Charlie stared at him for a minute, before chuckling lightly. "You've been reading too many of them books, Evan." He stated good-naturedly.
Evan shook his head frantically. "I'm serious! There's a bloody Elf in my room, come take a look!"
Dubiously, Charlie got up and followed his little brother back down the hall. He opened the door, and froze suddenly.
At the sound of their approach, Legolas whirled around to face the door, nocking an arrow. When the door swung open, he quickly trained it on the two figures that now appeared there.
After a moment Charlie recovered a little, and raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Umm…hey, mate," he greeted him awkwardly, not quite sure how one was supposed to react upon finding an Elf in one's house. "How're you doing?"
Ignoring the question, Legolas demanded, "Where am I? And who are you?" He tried to keep his voice steady, but every fibre of his body was taut with apprehension.
Evan stepped forward hesitantly. The Elf immediately shifted his aim to focus on him, but he quickly raised his hands to display his lack of weapons. "I'm Evan," he stammered nervously, "and this is my brother Charlie. What are you doing in my room?" He tried his hardest to make the question polite and non-threatening. He could scarcely believe it. Here, in his very bedroom, was a real live Elf! He must be dreaming. Surely this couldn't be real. "And please, lower your bow," he added meekly. "We're no threat."
The Elf hesitantly lowered his weapon, though he remained tense and alert. "I do not know how I came to be in this…place," he said cautiously. "I was standing with my companions, when we heard a strange noise coming towards us. Suddenly everything started to spin, and when it stopped I found myself here."
Evan's eyes were wide. He turned to glance at his brother. Charlie's face had gone white to the lips, and he seemed incapable of moving. Evan scrutinized him anxiously for a second, before turning back to the Elf. "What is your name?" he asked.
"I am Legolas, of Mirkwood," he replied after a moment of hesitation.
Evan gasped, and his eyes widened even further. "You're…you're one of the Fellowship?" he stuttered, hardly daring to believe his ears.
Legolas started at the mention of the Fellowship, and glared at Evan suspiciously. "How do you know of the Fellowship?" he demanded.
Evan looked into Legolas' anxious face, and wondered how he could explain it. "I've read about you," he said cautiously. "In our world, there are books about what you did…are doing."
It was the Elf's turn to look surprised. "You know of our quest, then?"
Evan nodded. "I know about the Ring, yes." He told him. "And of Aragorn, and Frodo, and Gandalf, and all the rest."
Legolas looked at him thoughtfully. "How came you by this book?" he asked at length.
"Most people here have read it. Everybody knows who you are." Evan replied. Even as he said it, a thought occurred to him. How could he keep this secret from everybody? Already, he felt certain that nobody could be allowed to know. Well, he would have to tell his family. And perhaps he could tell Joanna, too. But outside of that small group, nobody should be told.
Turning back to his brother, he gave Legolas an apologetic glance. "Would you mind waiting here for a moment while I see to my brother? I think your arrival has been a little too much for him." Legolas nodded, so Evan led his mute brother gently out the door, and back to his room. He lay him down on his bed, hesitating for a moment before he returned to speak with Legolas. His mind was completely addled, and he didn't know what to think. What would they do with the Elf? When he felt he had collected himself sufficiently, he went back to his room. They would sort something out eventually. Right now, he needed to talk to Legolas.
A/N: See that adorable button on the bottom left-hand corner of the screen? Now is the time to click on it! Please review; any comments or constructive criticism would really be appreciated!