For Those That See - Chapter Three
Jack rubbed his forehead, trying to stave off the burgeoning headache that this planet was giving him. Daniel was doing his best to condense the twisted and confused strands of conversation into a few sentences for him, and he really should be paying more attention, but his brain seemed to have given up and packed in for the day, even though the sun was only just reaching midday. That was the problem with 'gate travel: instant jet lag. Or 'gate lag.
As far as they could make out, there were four distinct races among the group of natives who were sat a little way away, probably trying to decide whether SG-1 were who they claimed to be, or were in fact a clever ploy of this enemy of theirs. The Men were definitely just that - humans probably transplanted from Earth way, way back into the past. The other three, Elves, Dwarves and Hobbits, were more intriguing, and Daniel was busy speculating about them right now. Apparently, since the Elves were the 'eldest' race, they were probably the indigenous species of the planet, probably adopting a name from Earth folklore. European, if one wanted to be precise, although the European description of Elves was probably better applied to the hobbits, for whom Daniel had no theory right now, but no doubt one was busy concocting in the back of his minds. And as for the Dwarves, Daniel suggested that they too had been given the name from the human settlers here, based in their folklore. This was, of course, very fascinating.
"All right," he cut in when his brain could take no more, "four races, which may or may not stem from earth. What about these other guys? Is there a threat here?"
"You mean the orcs?" Daniel shook his head. "I have no idea, Jack. They don't sound like good news, but if these people are at war with them…"
"They aren't going to be impartial about them. Of course." Jack pulled a disgruntled face. "Any other thoughts, people?"
"What about this Dark Lord?" asked Carter. "I don't want to jump the gun or anything, but from what little they've told us…"
"He may be Goa'uld," Teal'c completed her sentence in agreement. "We should find out all we can about him."
"Right," Jack nodded. "They didn't give us a name, did they?"
"No, they seemed afraid to say it," said Daniel, "which would fit in with the whole 'god' image." He lapsed into silence with a frown, the familiar anger at the Goa'uld settling in the back of his eyes.
"Any other thoughts?" Jack pressed. "What about the Stargate?"
"Realistically sir, I don't think there's anything we can do about it until the snow has receded," Carter admitted. "At the very least, we'll need all hands to dig it up, and we can't even think about that until Daniel's had time to heal."
"What about when it gets to check-in time?" Jack glanced at his watch. "That's in six hours: when they dial the 'gate, won't it eliminate all the rocks in the path of the wave?"
"More than likely, more will just fall in on it," replied Sam. "We might get a radio signal through, if we're lucky, but I don't think we'll be able to access it for several days. And then there's the matter of powering it: I severely doubt that the DHD survived the avalanche."
"Great. Wonderful. Start thinking of alternatives, kids." With a resigned sigh, Jack got to his feet and reached down to help Daniel up. They made their way back to the native group, who quickly stopped talking as they neared.
"Come, join us," said Merlin, whose real name was Gandalf the Grey. Jack had had to bite back a comment on that when they were introduced, particularly as, in his opinion anyway, the man's hat was blue, and rather comical. Of course, they had seen things far worse in their travels. He helped Daniel to the ground first, fussing just enough to appease his sense of responsibility, but not quite enough to irritate Daniel, and then settled next to him. Looking around, he saw a familiar curious look in all of the natives' eyes. Some, particularly the men, hid it well, but the four hobbits were unguarded and artless in their inquisitiveness. Jack could not help but be reminded of a certain archaeologist as he watched the blue eyes of the eldest roaming the group.
"You wish to learn of us and our ways?" the elderly man asked, looking at SG-1 with piercing eyes. "We in turn would wish to learn of you, but our quest is perilous and our need of haste is great. We can give you this night, but with the morning we must depart."
"That's very kind of you," replied Daniel. "We're more than willing to tell you about our culture, and perhaps we can be of help to you. I take it you still need to cross this mountain?" He glanced at Jack for confirmation as he spoke, and received an approving nod. So far, so good.
"I do not believe we can," replied Gandalf grimly. "There is another way that we might take, although our company is yet to decide whether we chance it, for it is perilous indeed. But the only other path leads us close to our enemy, and that risk we cannot take."
"You'd be going past this Dark Lord?" Daniel pressed, eager for information. Gandalf's impossibly bushy eyebrows rose to brush the rim of his hat.
"No," he replied, "but Saruman the White is a danger to us; he too commands many legions of orcs, and is a wizard of great power and wrath." Daniel frowned, wondering if there was any possibility that two Goa'uld were vying for the rule of this world, but Jack had to force himself not to roll his eyes as another ridiculous comic book name was revealed.
"What is the danger of the path you seek?" asked Teal'c suddenly, startling the group as he broke his long silence.
"It is an evil road," replied Strider, or Aragorn, or whatever they were calling him now. "The mines of Moria are ruined, and dark, and a great malice sleeps there. I do not seek it." A brooding silence fell, and Jack was shocked to see deep shades marring the faces of the native company, especially the haunted face of the hobbit, Frodo. Too suddenly wrenched from innocence into grim anguish: he recalled the shadows under Daniel's eyes, that first night back from Abydos, when he had been left alone to brood upon Sha'uri's loss.
"They don't know what to do with me," he'd said sadly, "and I don't know what to do with myself." Jack remembered the helplessness he'd felt then, and was startled to find it in his heart once more as he watched Frodo.
"Moria?" asked Daniel quietly. Apparently his curiosity wasn't about to wait for the uncomfortable moment to pass. Gimli lifted up his head, and in his eyes was a smouldering fire.
"The halls of Durin," he said grimly. "The Dwarven realm of old, Khazad-dum, Dwarrowdelf. There we delved long, and we grew many and strong, and great riches were ours before the dark days, before the fall."
"Khazad-dum?" Recognition sparked in Daniel's eyes, and the familiar crease in his brow deepened as he searched his mind. "Can you write that down?" He passed a notepad and pen to Gimli, who looked at the biro with intrigue before jotting down a few spiky figures. Running his eyes over them, Daniel's jaw dropped.
"What?" asked Jack, unwilling to wait for the archaeologist to remember that the rest of them couldn't actually hear the rushing stream of thoughts that he could. Daniel looked up at him, eyes shining.
"Jack, it's Asgard," he said in excitement.
"What? You're kidding?"
"No, it is. If…" Daniel paused, pinching the bridge of his nose, and turned to Gimli. "You say your people lived in Khazad-dum, yes?"
"For myriad years, yes," replied the dwarf proudly. "Until the forces of Sauron drove us from our rightful home, curse them!"
"Right," Daniel nodded and turned back to his CO. "Jack, I know I'm reaching, but if the Asgard did teach them to write, then chances are they fostered their culture. If so, there's a good chance we'll find some Asgard technology in their ancient home that may help us, eve a means of contacting them."
"You're right, Daniel."
"Excuse me?"
"You are reaching."
Daniel sighed. "It's not so very far-fetched. We've seen it before, after all; like Cimmeria. You asked for options, well this has a chance, if a remote one. What else are we going to do?"
"Excuse me?" Carter leant towards Gimli. "Can you tell us what was mined in… um, Khazad-dum?"
"The wealth of Moria was in mithril," replied the dwarf. "It was in great abundance upon a time."
"I'm sorry, mithril?"
"Moria-silver, or true-silver," said Gandalf. "There alone in the world was it found. The Elves call it mithril; the Dwarves have a name which they do not tell. Its worth was ten times that of gold, for it could be beaten like copper, and polished like glass; and the Dwarves could make of it a metal, light and yet harder than tempered steel. Bilbo had a corslet of mithril-rings that Thorin gave him. I wonder what has become of it?" For a moment Jack wondered at yet more names that were being thrown at him, and thought that perhaps he had missed some vital information earlier, until he noticed that Daniel looked as blank as he at the name, but the hobbits were listening raptly. Evidently they were learning this for the first time, too. From the sound of the name he guessed that Bilbo was another hobbit, and Daniel could probably confirm that, but Jack didn't feel like giving him the satisfaction right now.
He leant towards Carter, and spoke underneath a startled exclamation from Gimli. "Any of that mean anything to you, major?"
"I think so," she replied. "It sounds like trinium, or at least something very similar. We really should get a look at those mines, sir; the Pentagon is crying out for trinium as well as naquadah. With luck we could negotiate a trade agreement with these people."
Jack nodded. "Right, it looks like we're headed for Daniel's mines for now. Keep thinking about the 'gate though, folks - I want alternatives."
~~~
The two companies talked for several hours, until dusk had well and truly fallen and they huddled close around the fire to keep out the chill of the night. The sky was clear and dotted with bright stars, but the darkness grew evermore complete around them. Boromir prowled the edge of the camp together with Teal'c, who clutched a heavy black weapon that even Aragorn and Gandalf had not recognised. The hobbits were huddled close for warmth, and all the Company were well-wrapped in their cloaks, and the strangers in turn had pulled on heavy black jackets that seemed to insulate them well. Legolas himself bore no shield against the biting wind, but he drew close to the fire with the rest, delighting in the dance of the bright flames even as his mind cried caution against watching eyes.
For the moment, though, the eyes that watched him bore no malice, only curiosity. The Elf looked up into the gaze of bright blue eyes that housed a keen spirit, innocent and yet bearing the marks of sore trials, weathered but not broken, strengthened rather into a flaming diamond of truth and light, for those who had eyes to see. Legolas smiled.
Daniel smiled back, nervously. "Forgive me," he said, "but I'd like to ask you, um… what exactly makes an Elf different? Obviously, there's something about you that's - oh, I don't know, special - but I can't put a name to it, and…"
Legolas smiled at the rambling question. "I do not know how to speak it," he confessed. "I think you know, although you do not have the words, for you see even as your friends do not. But I will try. The first kindred lived here before the coming of Dwarves, or Men, halflings, or the great Istari." He bowed his head reverentially to Gandalf. "Life has a different meaning for us, I believe; the passing of time is at once swifter and slower than it is for you. But our time is fading, and soon we will leave for our home across the sea, leaving this land for mortal Men to govern."
"Mortal?" Daniel's jaw dropped, and O'Neill's eyebrows climbed high enough to merge with his silver hair.
"Are you saying that you're immortal?" he demanded.
"Yes," Legolas inclined his head in affirmation.
"As in, can't be killed?"
"I may be slain in battle," replied Legolas, "but I will not pass through age, or illness, save that my people have left mortal realms through great grief. But our fëar pass to the waiting halls of Mandos across the Great Sea, where all Elves will come in time. Death is not to us as it is to you, and already I have lived thousands of the years of Men."
"Wow," said Jack, clearly struggling for words. "You look great," he offered lamely.
"Thank you," said Legolas, smiling.
"Sorry," said Daniel, "but what did you mean when you said that I understand, and my friends don't? How…?" he trailed off, clearly at a loss for words.
"You are different," said Legolas simply. "You shine with the light of Aman; surely you know this?"
"Um… no?" Confusion creased Daniel's face. Frodo looked up sharply, and Legolas wondered if perhaps this young one, so similar to the archaeologist, might be better able to make him understand.
"You are different," he said. "I don't understand what it is, but there's a light in you, like there is in the Elves. Mortals – people like us, your friends, my cousins – we can't see it, but it's there, and I think… it's the feeling you get about Elves, but you see it. Some have it strongly, like Glorfindel, and some more subtly, like Legolas, and you…"
And yourself, dear hobbit Legolas thought, catching Gandalf's eye.
"… but it's there just the same. It shows what's within, and that's how we knew how to trust you."
Jack realised belatedly that his jaw was hanging open as he listened to the longest speech any of the hobbits had given them yet. He wasn't the only one, though: a hush had fallen over the camp as Frodo spoke. Of course Daniel was special, no one knew that better than he. How many times now had the man sacrificed himself for his teammates? How many times had he nearly died, or actually died, come to that? Underneath the geeky and innocent exterior blazed a heart of white fire that outweighed even his astounding intellect in worth, filling the civilian with courage and determination that Jack had never seen matched in the most highly commended of officers, and hand in hand with that, an unbreakable sense of right and wrong.
In fact, even when Daniel was dead, ascended, whatever, he had been watching over them, stretching the rules as far as he could to look out for his friends – his family. And at the bitter end, he had given up yet again everything he had gained to help his friends. Knowing that there would be retribution, but not knowing what it would be, Daniel had sacrificed himself. Again. Thank god they'd sent him back.
"Hey!" A flash of inspiration hit suddenly and Jack gave a shout of surprise. All eyes turned to him in question. "Sorry," he said. "Tell me again, you can see a light around these… special people, right?"
"Yes," replied Frodo. "From within, it's like an aura or something…" Jack couldn't stop himself from grinning as he looked over his teammates, noting from the frowns on both Carter and Daniel's faces that neither of them had got there before him. How often did that happen?
"What, Jack?" asked Daniel impatiently.
"Daniel, when you were ascended…" Jack fumbled a little over the word, as he always did, "… when we saw you, you were… kinda glowy. It sounds like the same thing…"
Carter's face had cleared suddenly, and she was nodding along with him. "You're right, sir, it does, and it would certainly explain why it's only you that's different, Daniel." She turned to the natives, who were listening in interest although it was clear than none of them really understood what they were talking about, unless it was the old wizard, whose expression Jack could not read. Not that understanding was a problem, of course - none of them really understood this ascension thing at all, and the only one with a chance of explaining it had conveniently had his memory wiped upon descending.
Carter was talking again, asking the natives what 'Aman' referred to, but a shout from Teal'c cut across her question and as one, SG1 stiffened up. That was not Teal'c's happy voice.
"O'Neill!" he called urgently. "Something approaches!"
"What?" As one, the entire company leapt to their feet, all instinctively clutching at their weapons with the exception of the hobbits and Daniel, whose good hand fell to his sidearm but did not draw it. Before Teal'c could answer, a howling began in the distance and was picked up, echoed and carried by the voices of many wolves, coming from every direction. They were surrounded.