Note:
This is a short, stand-alone story that fits in the same universe as my Ladies of the Ring story. What if Frodo had never offered to take the Ring and instead the Council of Elrond had degenerated into utter chaos?
Story starts at Boromir's memorable speech from about half-way through the Council meeting and then goes wildly off piste from there.
"One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep and the great eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men can you do this; it is folly," said the Gondorian captain, shaking his head emphatically as he spoke.
Legolas stood, outraged, "have you heard nothing of what Lord Elrond has said – the Ring must be destroyed."
"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it," shouted Gimli.
"And what if we fail?" asked Boromir, "What then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"
"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!"
The entourage accompanying the son of Thranduil stood at the dwarf's words. Legolas raised his arms to prevent any physical altercation but that didn't stop them from lobbying insults towards the dwarven coterie. The dwarves responded in kind, springing from their chairs and railing against the elves, accusing them of arrogance and deceit. The only thing separating the two warring factions was Legolas, who remained solid and impassive in the face of the barrage of insults.
At the periphery of the stand-off between the elves and dwarves stood the human contingency, lobbing comments seemingly at random towards both elf and dwarf. Aragorn watched the unfurling chaos with resigned disappointed. For many decades Aragorn had resided in Rivendell but this was the first time that he had felt like a human interloper, crude and thoughtless, out of place in the (usually) serene land of the elves.
From his seat, Gandalf rolled him eyes, fully intending on remaining apart from the argument. But as the volume of the humans' diatribe increased, Gandalf found himself compelled to stand as well and wade into the fray, hoping that his booming voice could cut through the ignorance and bring reason back to the council meeting.
Gandalf was mistaken.
Instead his presence only exacerbated the situation, his direct assault on the humans, Boromir in particular, only making them more determined to be heard, more determined to be right.
Frodo squirmed where he sat, the sounds overwhelming his senses, and through all the shouting cut a whisper, deafening and soft at the same time, calling to him. His discomfort did not go unnoticed by Aragorn who watched the hobbit with increasing concern. The halfling sat transfixed, as if spellbound by some siren's song. Frodo bent forward and for a moment Aragorn thought that Frodo was going to stand, that Frodo was going to interrupt the chaos and offer himself for the perilous task of returning the Ring to Mount Doom. Instead he buried his head in his hands and seemingly shrank where he sat.
So engrossed was he in watching Frodo that Aragorn did not see the moment when Gimli threw himself at Legolas. It was only at the elf's shrill scream that Aragorn turned to see the dwarf wrapped around Legolas's right leg. The elven prince started shaking his leg furiously, as if trying to dislodge a particularly feisty dog. But Gimli was not to be discouraged. Instead he held on to Legolas with unparalleled determination and sank his teeth into Legolas's arm. The shriek wrenched from Legolas's throat was worse than any Nazgul's.
With Legolas no longer standing as barrier between elves and dwarves, the shouting match descended into a full-on brawl. One of the dwarves head-butted an elf in the stomach; an elf picked up one of the delicate wooden chairs circling the meeting room and brought it down squarely on a dwarven head; hair pulling was rampant.
Not wishing to be outdone, the humans started throwing punches. Several humans caught elves in headlocks. One particularly mean-spirited member of Boromir's inner circle held two dwarves at arm's length while mocking them for their ineffectually short arm-spans.
In an exceptionally daring move, Boromir stole Gandalf's hat, before clambering on top of a balcony railing and shouting, "I'm Boromir the Brown! I'm a bloody Wizard but I'm too scared to use a magical ring!"
Gandalf swore in the tongue of Mordor but no one understood him and he was universally ignored.