Chapter Eight: You owe me, Mr. Baggins
A/N: Guten Deag! (I hope I spelt that right.) Once again, I thank you all for your reviews. I hope you will appreciate what I have in store for Legolas in future chapters, for those who are upset with him. XD
Harry put the mug of ale down on the grimy table, glad the hood of his cloak hid his disgust. He had never liked alcohol, and did not think he ever would. Even miruver, one of the best wines of the elves, could never tempt him. The elf looked around the pub as his little brother whispered to him morosely.
"What am I going to do? I love Legolas very much, you know that. He has been there for me in very hard times, and he is very understanding and kind. But Arwen," Here, the man sighed. "She is so beautiful. She is also understanding and kind to me. They are both wonderful. How can I choose? Who should I choose?"
The elf wanted to tell him neither and to just find some other woman who was not close to the family. It would stop hurting everyone. Harry knew this was mean, however, and said instead, "Only you can choose who you want. I will not influence you one way or the other, I cannot. Both elves are my kin, and very dear to me. I will be happy for you either way, Estel."
"I know you will," Estel gave a small smile. "And why do you still insist on calling me that? No one but you calls me 'Estel' anymore. I am Aragorn now."
"No, you will always be Estel to me." Emerald eyes watched as the door flew open and four Halflings stumbled in. They were cold and wet from the rain, and the leader, 'Mr. Underhill', asked for a room. Harry continued to watch them as the sat down at a table on the other side of the room and ordered drinks. Aragorn stopped talking to watch as well.
The two rangers kept their eyes on the hobbits for hours, even after the bartender told the little ones who they were, who he thought they were anyways. The men of Bree were of the opinion that all rangers are a queer, spooky folk. The two brothers had gained the names Strider and Shadow. Though they had seen Aragorn's face a few times, they had never seen Harry's, hence his nickname.
Their attention was drawn to the smallest of the hobbits, who had gone to the bar to get a pint. He was now telling everyone that Mr. Underhill was really Frodo Baggins, much to Frodo's dismay. The hobbit went to shut up the tongue-loose Halfling when he slipped, a glimmer of gold sliding from his hand and landing around his finger. He disappeared.
Harry frowned grimly, knowing he would have to distract everyone enough from the magic that had taken place. He threw off his hood, giving his brother a meaningful look as he sighed loudly and stretched. All eyes were turned to him, becoming wide at the sight of the creature. He was absolutely stunning! His pale skin seemed to have an inner glow that illuminated the area around him. His raven locks had small braids on the side of his head held back with silver, red, and blue beads. He had the greenest eyes imaginable that radiated power and strength. Just looking at him, the men all wanted to bend to his every whim. That want intensified into a need as they heard his musical voice. It was deep and almost commanding, though the residents of Bree swore they heard the soft ringing of bells accompanying it. He gave a broad smile, showing his well kept teeth.
"This has to be the best ale I have ever tasted. Can I bother you for some more?" He asked the bartender in perfect Westron. The elf was immediately surrounded by most of the patrons, vying him to take theirs. They pushed Aragorn well away, which suited him just fine. The man his a smirk as he grabbed Frodo as he reappeared and dragged the hobbit to his room, followed by the other hobbits as they tried to 'rescue' their friend.
Harry groaned as he was finally able to escape the eager men. They rank of sweat and alcohol, and a few of them had been bold enough to try and grope him. The nerve! Now he knew how the veelas of earth felt. Poor souls. Once he reached the room he and his brother were sharing, he saw the Halflings all resting on blankets with apprehension written on their faces. "I take it you informed them of the danger they are in?" Aragorn nodded. "Good. Can you pour me a glass of water? I want to get the taste of rotting fruit out of my mouth." The man chuckled as he did as he was told. The elf settled down in a chair, fixing his tousled hair as best he could.
"You- you're an elf," a hobbit gasped. Harry turned to face him, still speaking westron.
"I am, but I prefer to be called Harry. You are�" The hobbit flushed with embarrassment.
"Samwise Gamgee."
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Gamgee. And your friends?"
"I am Merriodoc Brandybuck. Please call me Merry."
"Frodo Baggins, as you most likely heard. Thank you for your help."
"Pippin Took."
"You are rather foolish, Mr. Took. You should mind your tongue," Harry said, though not unkindly. "And you, Mr. Baggins, owe me one."
"Owe you?" the hobbit asked, confused.
"Yes. Thanks to you, I have been touched inappropriately, had to drink some disgusting beverage, had to listen to Strider talk incessantly about his love life the whole way here, and be constantly reminded of my lack thereof."
"Do not take him seriously, Frodo," Strider glared at his brother. "He really thinks nothing of it. And I was only concerned for you, Shadow. You have not been yourself for many, many years, and I believe you would feel much better if you loved someone, and were loved in return." The easy smile slid from the elf's face, and he stood to take a place at the window, facing away from everyone.
"Truly, Mr. Baggins, you owe me nothing. I only jest. My love life is no concern of yours, Strider, so I suggest you stay out of it. I do love, and love greatly. I would not be here with you if I did not. I would be hiding away in a cave, not suffering the presences of others."
"I do not mean the love of family and you know it." Harry just smiled again, though it was a sad one. "Get some rest, little hobbits, we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow." They nodded, though they were confused by the conversation of the rangers. They fell asleep quickly with the exception of Frodo, who watched Shadow with curiosity. He still faced the window, looking at the outside world with unseeing eyes. Any conversation between the rangers were now in elvish, and he could only catch meaningless words.
Frodo stumbled over a protruding tree root, steadied by Harry's hand under his arm. They have been traveling for three days now through the brush filled mountains, Strider in the lead. The elf stayed to the back, helping the hobbits when they needed it and leading Bill the pony. Sometimes the hobbits heard him muttering to the little horse, though they could not understand it. Frodo could not understand the elf. He had barely spoken since the night in the inn, though he seemed nice enough. If you looked at him and he knew you were, he would smile like there was nothing wrong in the world and say a word or two if asked a question. If he did not know, however, he looked withdrawn, as if he would rather be somewhere else. He looked hurt and vulnerable.
"It is a shame, really." Frodo started at Strider's voice. The elf and man had switched places without him knowing. Aragorn wanted him to relax, and not worry that anyone would see his discomfort. The man had also noticed the hobbit's particular interest in the elf and his preoccupation. "Harry is beautiful, there is no doubt about it, but it is nothing like what he used to be. His skin used to be so golden, the color of a fine ale. His eyes glimmered with mischief and laughter all the time. Oh, would he laugh. He would jest and narrate and convince and just talk. It made everyone laugh with him, even when they were sad."
"Have you known him long?" Frodo inquired.
"I have known him most of my life. He is my older brother. We were both adopted by Lord Elrond of Rivendell, where we are going. It saddens me to see him so."
"What happened to him? Is he ill?"
"I suppose you can say that, only elves cannot get ill. He is afflicted by grief. As you most likely know, grief can be very dangerous to an elf. It has caused him to fade a little. It started to happen when our mother sailed to the Undying Lands, though I doubt it is all. My other brothers are their trickster selves again, and even our father is happy again. I do not know why he is still affected by grief." Frodo nodded, and the travelers were quiet again, with the exception of the complaints of mosquitoes.
They reached Weathertop that night. The rangers left the hobbits at the top to scout the land. Frodo fell into an uneasy sleep, only to be woken up by the smell of smoke. The other hobbits had started a fire. He stomped it out quickly, but it was too late. Already he could see the Nazgul flocking to their position. The hobbits quickly armed themselves with the daggers the rangers had left them, forming a tight circle back to back. The Ringwraiths surrounded them, towering over their short forms.
Frodo wanted to hide. He was frightened, and the best way for them not to see him was by wearing the ring. He fought the urge, but it became too much. He slid it on and he could see the Nazgul. They were even more frightening in their wraith forms. The leader stabbed him in the left shoulder and the ring bearer screamed in agony. Everything hurt. Suddenly the sword was pulled out and he tore off the ring. The other hobbits quickly surrounded him.
The rangers were back. Strider was fighting them off with his sword and a lit torch. Harry was standing there, which seemed odd to the hobbits, and even odder when a silver light emanated from his hands. His eyes shined the same color as he shouted, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" The light shot from his hands and formed the shapes of a stag, shaggy dog, and a huge wolf. They charged the remaining Nazguls, chasing them off the ledge. Once the wraiths were gone, the animals seemed hold themselves aloofly before disappearing. The rangers rushed to the hobbits' sides.
"He has been stabbed by a morgul blade," Strider told Harry. Harry nodded and hovered his hand over the wound. Shards of the blade flew up into his hand, only to turn to ash.
"I can do nothing about the poison already coursing through his system," the elf told his brother. The man nodded and Frodo was slung over Harry's back, his pack given to the other ranger. "It is time to go," is all they said to the hobbits.
The rest of the trip was trying for the odd group. They were constantly wary of the Nazguls, and Frodo's condition was getting worse. Athelas was found and slowed down the poison, but the hobbit was still fading, turning into a wraith himself. Glorfindel found them after two days. Frodo was quickly put on the horse and was sent alone to Rivendell. The horse knew the way.
Harry sank into his bed, glad now that he had had a bath and had heard of Frodo's condition. His door opened, and Legolas slid in, sitting on his friend's bed.
"Hello," Harry groaned sleepily. Legolas smiled and ran a hand through the black locks.
"Had a long journey?"
"No, I only took a leisurely stroll around the gardens. I have no idea what you are talking about." Legolas chuckled and slid under the covers to cuddle against his friend. Harry sighed and wrapped his arm around him. He snorted in his head as he thought of how jealous Estel would be. Too bad Legolas did not think anything of it.
"I just saw Aragorn," the blond elf mumbled into the pillow. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Honestly, did the two have anything else to talk about other than each other?
"Oh? What did he say?"
"I do not know. He was talking with Arwen. He was holding and kissing her, too," his voice trembled with pain. The ranger was now the one stroking blond hair and gripped the elf tighter. He did not speak, knowing his voice would show his own pain and jealousy. It still hurt to know that his best friend did not love him, though it was now manageable. Right now, he was just upset that his love was hurt. Once his emotions were under control, he tried to comfort the prince.
"He loves you; he just loves her as well. The heart is often tricky, and hides what the mind so dearly wants to know. Be comforted that I will always be here for you. I promised, remember?" Legolas smiled faintly before snuggling into the pillow, his eyes glazing over with dreams. Harry lay awake, enjoying what little amount of closeness with his friend as he could get.
