Title: The Cursed Ring Of Angmar
Author: Meatball
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it doesn't belong to me.
A/N: This is extremely A.U. and O.O.C. and all that good stuff. And of course completely fictional. Not for LOTR purists, I'm afraid.
Summary: The last two Elves on Earth embark upon another quest to destroy another magic ring. Some odd ideas in here, inspired by a ring that I bought on ebay. I've really enjoyed putting this story together, please read and review...I'm curious to know what people think of this one.
A/N2: There is absolutely no offense intended to J.R.R. Tolkien or to his family or his estate. This is just a work of fiction.
***
Nicholas Greene half-stumbled out of the theatre, blinded momentarily by tears.
"Careful."
He paused, steadied by the gentle hand on his shoulder, and tried to speak. He couldn't manage it, for a moment. After choking back a sob and a laugh, he tried again.
"Thank you, Hal."
He turned and faced the man whose fake i.d. identified him as Haldir Greene, Nicholas' brother. In their hearts, they actually were brothers. Centuries of close friendship had wrought a bond closer than that of many flesh and blood kin.
"Are you alright?"
"Fine, fine." The man whose fake i.d. identified himself as Nicholas Greene wiped away the last of the tears, clearing his vision. "I'm fine. I just...I didn't expect it to affect me like that." Then he laughed, brokenly. "And just for the record -- that bit with the olliphant never happened. I was good, but I was never that good!"
Haldir laughed with him. "I was planning to ask you about that. I wasn't on the Fields of Pellenor with you and the others, but I'm quite certain that someone would have said something about you single-handedly bringing down an entire olliphant. But it made for a good scene. Hero stuff, that." Haldir smiled. "And I certainly don't remember you pulling that "skateboard" stunt at Helm's Deep, either."
"And you didn't die at Helm's Deep, either. So, we added a little creative licence in there, somewhere."
"Come on, Legolas." Haldir clapped his friend's shoulder. "Let's go home. 'Return Of The King' was a bit draining for me, even though I wasn't actually there for much of it. I wish I had been, but we had to return to Lorien. Damned Orcs."
The two men walked along the waterfront, enjoying the sounds and the smells of the ocean. Fugitives of the centuries, in this time and place they had decided to live in San Francisco, in a luxurious waterfront unit. They had enjoyed living in Europe and Britain all their long years, watching the world grow and age, amazed at the changes wrought during the Age of Man. One by one, the Elves had sought their final home in Valinor. Legolas and Haldir were quite certain that they were the only two Elves left in this world.
Legolas unlocked the door to their large apartment, and led the way inside. He palmed the light panel, and immediately a soft, diffused glow permeated the quiet room overlooking the bay. Haldir padded to the kitchen, and returned with two glasses of wine.
"Here, Legol." He handed a glass to his friend, and the two of them leaned on the balcony, listening to the seagulls singing their songs. The warm, salty breeze was refreshing. "Are you alright?"
"Oh...yes." Legolas laughed softly, the stream of air blowing around his thick, shoulder-length blonde hair. He looked much the same as he had looked thousands of years ago; a few more lines around the eyes, perhaps. A certain remoteness in his smile. Remarkable how much the young man portraying him in the movie had resembled him. "Yes, I'm alright. It was just...I don't know. Watching the first two movies today, then going to see the final installment tonight. It was...moving." He glanced ruefully at Haldir, who had also changed little, yet quite a bit, during the centuries. Some years ago, the older man had cut his long blonde hair, and currently wore it in a shorter style, dyed a dark colour. It had taken some getting used to, but Legolas had to admit that it suited him, and he wondered if maybe it wasn't time to do something with his own hair. Yet he needed it to cover his ears. Haldir's hair sometimes blew away from his ears in the wind, exposing the Elven points. As far as he knew, no one had really noticed. Haldir often wore a faded Nike ballcap, which hid his ears and lent him a youthful, carefree look.
"Try watching yourself die." Haldir arched an eyebrow. "Now that's moving." He took a drink, then chuckled. "I can't believe you remembered that crack that I made to the dwarf about how loud his breathing was."
Legolas smiled sadly. The actor portraying Gimli had not only looked just like him, but had managed to capture the dwarf's stoic, yet funny, personality. Not for the first time, Legolas missed his friend. He wondered if Gimli was yet following Galadriel around in Valinor, like a worshipful puppy. He wondered if Celeborn was still perplexed by that. His heart ached, suddenly, with longing.
It would be so easy, so easy to just take the boat and go. They still knew the secret way. Gods, they were old -- older than dirt. Should they not go? And see their friends, and their loved ones? He would see his father, and Gimli, his beloved friends and family, Dariannah...
Beautiful Dariannah, who had died so young. To slightly mis-quote Samwise Gamgee (another dear friend portrayed all too well in the movie!), if there were anyone that he would have married, it would have been his beautiful Dariannah, she of the light footsteps and swift mind. After all these centuries, he could still see her long, dark curls and sweet face...
"Look."
Legolas' gaze followed Haldir's outstretched hand, and then he heard it -- the gentle roar of a jet, cutting through the night sky. As always, he gazed in wonder. The Age of Man had been wondrous, indeed. Fascinating. Ingenius and inventive. With a strong certainty, he knew that he was not yet ready to take that last boatride. Not yet. There was still so much to see, to learn, to do, to experience. He might be tired, sometimes, weary beyond the ages -- but he was not ready to go yet.
"Unbelievable," he whispered. "I never tire of that sight." He watched the jet pass beyond their vision. After a few moments, he turned back into the apartment. Haldir had gone to make sandwiches.
They were seated companionably on the overstuffed sofa, munching their sandwiches and drinking their wine. Haldir leafed through the newspaper, while Legolas flipped through the channels. The room was filled with the sounds of a jazz combo coming from the television. After a few moments, Haldir spoke again.
"So what did you think? Were the movies to your satisfaction? Were they accurate enough?"
"I think so," said Legolas, turning the volume down a bit and brushing crumbs off his t-shirt. "They certainly did wonderful justice to the books. What do you think?"
"I think so, too. A few things were off -- but then again, a few things were off in the books, too." He grinned.
Decades before, Legolas had been in the guise of a college professor by the name of J.R.R. Tolkien. He'd decided to start writing the account of one of the greatest stories of his time. It took decades, and eventually was published for the masses. In the decades that followed, he took on the guise of his own "son", and continued the work, always editing and tweaking the journals. In the end, he had been greatly pleased with the result, even though he had made a few small changes to the stories, such as adding his own non-existant passing.
New technology, however, made it increasingly difficult to slip in and out of disguises and identities. He and Haldir, tired of pretending to be other people and tired of trying to "fit in", had abandoned all of their characters. Using their vast fortune (it was amazing how wealth could pile up over the centuries), they erased any paper trails, cleaned up any loose ends, abandoned their wigs and aging makeup, had new identities forged, and made the move to San Francisco. Nicholas and Haldir Greene were born.
However, Legolas became fascinated by a new medium -- movies and television. He fantasized often about Lord of the Rings becoming a movie. Unfortunately, he just did not know how such a grand undertaking could be achieved. Fortunately, technology had finally caught up with his vision. Once again in disguise, with their vast fortune bankrolling their project, a young man in New Zealand had been found to help bring Lord of the Rings to cinematic life.
The result had been breathtaking.
Legolas smiled at Haldir. "Yes. It was good. It was...perfect, actually."
"Brought up a lot of emotions, though. For both of us."
"Yes."
"But it was important, Legol."
Legolas looked at Haldir, questioningly.
"It..." Haldir spread his hands, momentarily lost for words. Then he continued. "Legol...people need stories like this. They need things that they can identify with. I don't know if I'm explaining this correctly, but hear me out. Today's world...I see a lot of good out there. A lot of good. But I also see a lot of evil. And I see a lot of misdirection. People just aren't in touch with themselves, with life, anymore. I see a lot of confusion."
"They are all alone, together," Legolas said, softly. "See what Melko has wrought."
"Yes. Yes...alone, and lonely, and confused. I don't know if a story can make a difference to someone, a huge difference. But perhaps it can. Perhaps...perhaps it can. I don't know. But stories like this are good, Legolas. Good, and important." Haldir smiled. "You did good."
"You helped me." Legolas smiled back, fondly.
***
So it was a few days later, after Haldir returned from the fresh market, that there was a vicious pounding on their front door. Legolas looked up from his computer, brow furrowed. "What the..."
"Legolas Greenleaf! Open up! I know you're in there!"
Legolas froze, eyes wide. "What..."
Haldir paused in the act of putting produce away, automatically snapping into "alert" mode. Once a guard, always a guard. "Stay there," he whispered, moving swiftly and silently towards the security monitor. "Odd..."
"Who is it?" The frantic pounding continued.
"An...old man? Street person?"
"But...how would he know my name?"
Haldir shrugged. "That, I'm going to find out. Stay out of sight."
"Be careful." Legolas reached into the desk drawer for his gun -- oh, how he missed his bow! -- and slipped out of the room, behind the door frame.
Quickly, Haldir slipped out the back door, and stealthed his way around the building. The old man was still pounding on the door, causing more than a few passers-by to stop and stare. As though he sensed him, the old man turned and fixed Haldir with a stern glare.
"The courtesy of the Elves isn't quite what it used to be, Haldir. What would your father say?"
Haldir stopped dead, and stared. Even as his mind screamed that what he was seeing was impossible, he whispered, "Gandalf...?"
"Yes, and if you don't want to feel the sting of my staff across your immortal backside, you'll get that door opened, and quickly! There's no time to lose."
***
The first thing they saw as they entered the unit was Legolas, his face slack with shock and his pistol lowering to his side. "...it...cannot be...Gandalf?"
The old man laughed. "You're not seeing a ghost, you know."
"But...you were in Valinor..."
"Yes, and quite happily retired, I might add. Have you got a cup of tea?" Gandalf shuffled over to the comfortable sofa and sunk down into it.
"Gandalf, what are you doing here? How is this possible?" Legolas sat in a chair opposite, still in shock.
"Well..." The old wizard shifted slightly, and leaned forward. "There's an urgent matter that's come up, one that I'll need your help with. It's got to do with a ring."
Haldir's jaw dropped. "Oh, for Rumil's sake...not again!"
***
"So it's been dug up."
Legolas sat back in his chair, his head reeling. He felt like he was trapped in a horror movie, one that kept rewinding and playing over and over again. Beside him, Haldir was summarizing Gandalf's story in his matter-of-fact way.
"Gandalf, this is ridiculous. The Ring of the Witch King of Angmar?"
"As far as we knew, it was never recovered. But we have discovered that in fact, it was. Meriadoc Brandybuck, after the Witch King was slain, saw it roll off his finger and managed to grab it."
"And for all his life, he kept it. Kept it, safe and secret."
"But is it important? Does it have any powers?"
"Oh yes." Serious now, Gandalf looked at the Elves from under raised eyebrows. "Oh yes. It is powerful."
"And how did it come to be...wherever it was found?" Haldir's intent gaze was focused on the old man, seeking answers.
"As I said, Merry kept it, all his life. However, before he left the Shire, before his last journey, he placed it in a small gold box, and buried it deep. Very deep. And it lay, undisturbed, for centuries upon centuries. Until now."
"The land under which it lay is being developed. Excavators have found this box. It was stolen from the site, however."
"Who stole it?"
"It doesn't matter. What matters is that the ring was purchased by a private collector, in Los Angeles."
"And...?"
"And," sighed Gandalf. "It needs to be retrieved." His weary blue gaze fixed on Legolas, who stirred.
"And then what? Tossed into the Crack of Mount Doom?" He leaned his head back, frustrated, and rolled his eyes at the ceiling. "Gandalf, this is ridiculous."
The old man's eyes flashed with anger. "Do not use that tone with me, young Greenleaf! This ring is still possessed of a vestigal power. Not a strong one, but strong enough. It can certainly be the cause of much misery."
Legolas rolled his head sideways, to look at Haldir, who surprised him by flashing a reckless grin at him. "Well, why not?", he asked. "I've been feeling a little adventurous of late. Let's go fetch us a ring!"
Gandalf chuckled. Legolas rolled his eyes again.
"I have a bad feeling about this," he sighed.
***
Author: Meatball
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it doesn't belong to me.
A/N: This is extremely A.U. and O.O.C. and all that good stuff. And of course completely fictional. Not for LOTR purists, I'm afraid.
Summary: The last two Elves on Earth embark upon another quest to destroy another magic ring. Some odd ideas in here, inspired by a ring that I bought on ebay. I've really enjoyed putting this story together, please read and review...I'm curious to know what people think of this one.
A/N2: There is absolutely no offense intended to J.R.R. Tolkien or to his family or his estate. This is just a work of fiction.
***
Nicholas Greene half-stumbled out of the theatre, blinded momentarily by tears.
"Careful."
He paused, steadied by the gentle hand on his shoulder, and tried to speak. He couldn't manage it, for a moment. After choking back a sob and a laugh, he tried again.
"Thank you, Hal."
He turned and faced the man whose fake i.d. identified him as Haldir Greene, Nicholas' brother. In their hearts, they actually were brothers. Centuries of close friendship had wrought a bond closer than that of many flesh and blood kin.
"Are you alright?"
"Fine, fine." The man whose fake i.d. identified himself as Nicholas Greene wiped away the last of the tears, clearing his vision. "I'm fine. I just...I didn't expect it to affect me like that." Then he laughed, brokenly. "And just for the record -- that bit with the olliphant never happened. I was good, but I was never that good!"
Haldir laughed with him. "I was planning to ask you about that. I wasn't on the Fields of Pellenor with you and the others, but I'm quite certain that someone would have said something about you single-handedly bringing down an entire olliphant. But it made for a good scene. Hero stuff, that." Haldir smiled. "And I certainly don't remember you pulling that "skateboard" stunt at Helm's Deep, either."
"And you didn't die at Helm's Deep, either. So, we added a little creative licence in there, somewhere."
"Come on, Legolas." Haldir clapped his friend's shoulder. "Let's go home. 'Return Of The King' was a bit draining for me, even though I wasn't actually there for much of it. I wish I had been, but we had to return to Lorien. Damned Orcs."
The two men walked along the waterfront, enjoying the sounds and the smells of the ocean. Fugitives of the centuries, in this time and place they had decided to live in San Francisco, in a luxurious waterfront unit. They had enjoyed living in Europe and Britain all their long years, watching the world grow and age, amazed at the changes wrought during the Age of Man. One by one, the Elves had sought their final home in Valinor. Legolas and Haldir were quite certain that they were the only two Elves left in this world.
Legolas unlocked the door to their large apartment, and led the way inside. He palmed the light panel, and immediately a soft, diffused glow permeated the quiet room overlooking the bay. Haldir padded to the kitchen, and returned with two glasses of wine.
"Here, Legol." He handed a glass to his friend, and the two of them leaned on the balcony, listening to the seagulls singing their songs. The warm, salty breeze was refreshing. "Are you alright?"
"Oh...yes." Legolas laughed softly, the stream of air blowing around his thick, shoulder-length blonde hair. He looked much the same as he had looked thousands of years ago; a few more lines around the eyes, perhaps. A certain remoteness in his smile. Remarkable how much the young man portraying him in the movie had resembled him. "Yes, I'm alright. It was just...I don't know. Watching the first two movies today, then going to see the final installment tonight. It was...moving." He glanced ruefully at Haldir, who had also changed little, yet quite a bit, during the centuries. Some years ago, the older man had cut his long blonde hair, and currently wore it in a shorter style, dyed a dark colour. It had taken some getting used to, but Legolas had to admit that it suited him, and he wondered if maybe it wasn't time to do something with his own hair. Yet he needed it to cover his ears. Haldir's hair sometimes blew away from his ears in the wind, exposing the Elven points. As far as he knew, no one had really noticed. Haldir often wore a faded Nike ballcap, which hid his ears and lent him a youthful, carefree look.
"Try watching yourself die." Haldir arched an eyebrow. "Now that's moving." He took a drink, then chuckled. "I can't believe you remembered that crack that I made to the dwarf about how loud his breathing was."
Legolas smiled sadly. The actor portraying Gimli had not only looked just like him, but had managed to capture the dwarf's stoic, yet funny, personality. Not for the first time, Legolas missed his friend. He wondered if Gimli was yet following Galadriel around in Valinor, like a worshipful puppy. He wondered if Celeborn was still perplexed by that. His heart ached, suddenly, with longing.
It would be so easy, so easy to just take the boat and go. They still knew the secret way. Gods, they were old -- older than dirt. Should they not go? And see their friends, and their loved ones? He would see his father, and Gimli, his beloved friends and family, Dariannah...
Beautiful Dariannah, who had died so young. To slightly mis-quote Samwise Gamgee (another dear friend portrayed all too well in the movie!), if there were anyone that he would have married, it would have been his beautiful Dariannah, she of the light footsteps and swift mind. After all these centuries, he could still see her long, dark curls and sweet face...
"Look."
Legolas' gaze followed Haldir's outstretched hand, and then he heard it -- the gentle roar of a jet, cutting through the night sky. As always, he gazed in wonder. The Age of Man had been wondrous, indeed. Fascinating. Ingenius and inventive. With a strong certainty, he knew that he was not yet ready to take that last boatride. Not yet. There was still so much to see, to learn, to do, to experience. He might be tired, sometimes, weary beyond the ages -- but he was not ready to go yet.
"Unbelievable," he whispered. "I never tire of that sight." He watched the jet pass beyond their vision. After a few moments, he turned back into the apartment. Haldir had gone to make sandwiches.
They were seated companionably on the overstuffed sofa, munching their sandwiches and drinking their wine. Haldir leafed through the newspaper, while Legolas flipped through the channels. The room was filled with the sounds of a jazz combo coming from the television. After a few moments, Haldir spoke again.
"So what did you think? Were the movies to your satisfaction? Were they accurate enough?"
"I think so," said Legolas, turning the volume down a bit and brushing crumbs off his t-shirt. "They certainly did wonderful justice to the books. What do you think?"
"I think so, too. A few things were off -- but then again, a few things were off in the books, too." He grinned.
Decades before, Legolas had been in the guise of a college professor by the name of J.R.R. Tolkien. He'd decided to start writing the account of one of the greatest stories of his time. It took decades, and eventually was published for the masses. In the decades that followed, he took on the guise of his own "son", and continued the work, always editing and tweaking the journals. In the end, he had been greatly pleased with the result, even though he had made a few small changes to the stories, such as adding his own non-existant passing.
New technology, however, made it increasingly difficult to slip in and out of disguises and identities. He and Haldir, tired of pretending to be other people and tired of trying to "fit in", had abandoned all of their characters. Using their vast fortune (it was amazing how wealth could pile up over the centuries), they erased any paper trails, cleaned up any loose ends, abandoned their wigs and aging makeup, had new identities forged, and made the move to San Francisco. Nicholas and Haldir Greene were born.
However, Legolas became fascinated by a new medium -- movies and television. He fantasized often about Lord of the Rings becoming a movie. Unfortunately, he just did not know how such a grand undertaking could be achieved. Fortunately, technology had finally caught up with his vision. Once again in disguise, with their vast fortune bankrolling their project, a young man in New Zealand had been found to help bring Lord of the Rings to cinematic life.
The result had been breathtaking.
Legolas smiled at Haldir. "Yes. It was good. It was...perfect, actually."
"Brought up a lot of emotions, though. For both of us."
"Yes."
"But it was important, Legol."
Legolas looked at Haldir, questioningly.
"It..." Haldir spread his hands, momentarily lost for words. Then he continued. "Legol...people need stories like this. They need things that they can identify with. I don't know if I'm explaining this correctly, but hear me out. Today's world...I see a lot of good out there. A lot of good. But I also see a lot of evil. And I see a lot of misdirection. People just aren't in touch with themselves, with life, anymore. I see a lot of confusion."
"They are all alone, together," Legolas said, softly. "See what Melko has wrought."
"Yes. Yes...alone, and lonely, and confused. I don't know if a story can make a difference to someone, a huge difference. But perhaps it can. Perhaps...perhaps it can. I don't know. But stories like this are good, Legolas. Good, and important." Haldir smiled. "You did good."
"You helped me." Legolas smiled back, fondly.
***
So it was a few days later, after Haldir returned from the fresh market, that there was a vicious pounding on their front door. Legolas looked up from his computer, brow furrowed. "What the..."
"Legolas Greenleaf! Open up! I know you're in there!"
Legolas froze, eyes wide. "What..."
Haldir paused in the act of putting produce away, automatically snapping into "alert" mode. Once a guard, always a guard. "Stay there," he whispered, moving swiftly and silently towards the security monitor. "Odd..."
"Who is it?" The frantic pounding continued.
"An...old man? Street person?"
"But...how would he know my name?"
Haldir shrugged. "That, I'm going to find out. Stay out of sight."
"Be careful." Legolas reached into the desk drawer for his gun -- oh, how he missed his bow! -- and slipped out of the room, behind the door frame.
Quickly, Haldir slipped out the back door, and stealthed his way around the building. The old man was still pounding on the door, causing more than a few passers-by to stop and stare. As though he sensed him, the old man turned and fixed Haldir with a stern glare.
"The courtesy of the Elves isn't quite what it used to be, Haldir. What would your father say?"
Haldir stopped dead, and stared. Even as his mind screamed that what he was seeing was impossible, he whispered, "Gandalf...?"
"Yes, and if you don't want to feel the sting of my staff across your immortal backside, you'll get that door opened, and quickly! There's no time to lose."
***
The first thing they saw as they entered the unit was Legolas, his face slack with shock and his pistol lowering to his side. "...it...cannot be...Gandalf?"
The old man laughed. "You're not seeing a ghost, you know."
"But...you were in Valinor..."
"Yes, and quite happily retired, I might add. Have you got a cup of tea?" Gandalf shuffled over to the comfortable sofa and sunk down into it.
"Gandalf, what are you doing here? How is this possible?" Legolas sat in a chair opposite, still in shock.
"Well..." The old wizard shifted slightly, and leaned forward. "There's an urgent matter that's come up, one that I'll need your help with. It's got to do with a ring."
Haldir's jaw dropped. "Oh, for Rumil's sake...not again!"
***
"So it's been dug up."
Legolas sat back in his chair, his head reeling. He felt like he was trapped in a horror movie, one that kept rewinding and playing over and over again. Beside him, Haldir was summarizing Gandalf's story in his matter-of-fact way.
"Gandalf, this is ridiculous. The Ring of the Witch King of Angmar?"
"As far as we knew, it was never recovered. But we have discovered that in fact, it was. Meriadoc Brandybuck, after the Witch King was slain, saw it roll off his finger and managed to grab it."
"And for all his life, he kept it. Kept it, safe and secret."
"But is it important? Does it have any powers?"
"Oh yes." Serious now, Gandalf looked at the Elves from under raised eyebrows. "Oh yes. It is powerful."
"And how did it come to be...wherever it was found?" Haldir's intent gaze was focused on the old man, seeking answers.
"As I said, Merry kept it, all his life. However, before he left the Shire, before his last journey, he placed it in a small gold box, and buried it deep. Very deep. And it lay, undisturbed, for centuries upon centuries. Until now."
"The land under which it lay is being developed. Excavators have found this box. It was stolen from the site, however."
"Who stole it?"
"It doesn't matter. What matters is that the ring was purchased by a private collector, in Los Angeles."
"And...?"
"And," sighed Gandalf. "It needs to be retrieved." His weary blue gaze fixed on Legolas, who stirred.
"And then what? Tossed into the Crack of Mount Doom?" He leaned his head back, frustrated, and rolled his eyes at the ceiling. "Gandalf, this is ridiculous."
The old man's eyes flashed with anger. "Do not use that tone with me, young Greenleaf! This ring is still possessed of a vestigal power. Not a strong one, but strong enough. It can certainly be the cause of much misery."
Legolas rolled his head sideways, to look at Haldir, who surprised him by flashing a reckless grin at him. "Well, why not?", he asked. "I've been feeling a little adventurous of late. Let's go fetch us a ring!"
Gandalf chuckled. Legolas rolled his eyes again.
"I have a bad feeling about this," he sighed.
***