Disclaimer: AU Story. Why don't I own Lord of the Rings? *sigh* Well, until
maybe the Tolkien family takes pity on me, I do not own any of the
characters or places mentioned in this story. Please don't sue me! I know I
am cruel to them but I swear I will try to save them. Hope you enjoy!
~ Chapter Twenty ~
"No," Legolas repeated before either man could speak. "I will not trust Frodo with any means that dwarf has to offer. Do you not see what he has done to him? He was near death and you would trust Balin now?"
"Legolas, this is our only hope," Aragorn said quietly, "Without it, Frodo will die. Do you not want to protect him?"
"Yes! And I am protecting him from Balin am I not?" the elf protested. Boromir took him by the arm and looked at him long and hard.
"I understand how you feel. I do not trust Balin for an instant but there is no more we can do for him. Whatever it is, whether it be good or ill, there is nothing more we can do for Frodo," he said. Legolas nodded but he turned and gazed at the hobbit stretched out on his bedroll. He was sleeping fitfully and every once in a while he would flinch and lash out at the air, the Ring's chain flowing out from between his fingers.
"I came to protect the Ringbearer," he said weakly, realising that his friends were right. Aragorn and Boromir escorted him back to the camp. They all sat in a tight circle, examining the contents of the box. It was filled with small dark blue and green herbs that let off a pungent scent. They used the last of Aragorn's water to mix them in. Then, the ranger handed the flask to Legolas, saying,
"You give it to him, friend."
Legolas rose and padded across to where Frodo lay resting. Gently, he touched Frodo's shoulder. The hobbit started awake, still trembling with fear from his nightmares. At the sight of Legolas, he relaxed and sat up, rubbing at his eyes.
"Legolas," he said drowsily, "Why.. why are you here?"
"I have a drink for you to take. Is your throat still dry?"
Frodo nodded and took the libation gratefully. He took long lingering gulps making the elf wince. Could it be poison he was swallowing? Had he just help kill his little companion? But Frodo seemed none the worse when he finished and handed the flask back to him. Legolas took it uncertainly.
"Frodo, do you feel.. alright?"
"Fine," the hobbit replied. He sounded rather sleepy and he lay back down. "Legolas," he said after a long pause, "Are you still blaming yourself for- for what happened? ..Tell me the truth."
The elf thought for a while, absently stroking back Frodo's hair from his forehead. With a deep sigh, he answered,
"Yes. I know that I should not have taken you and I was foolhardy. But at the sight of Gollum, I just wanted to see him gone. For good. I never expected any of this."
Frodo closed his eyes with a smile.
"You are silly, Legolas," he said. "You could not have stopped me going after Gollum.. even if you had tied me to the ground. I would have followed you and.. all of this.. would have happened again."
Legolas was silent for a long time, crouching at Frodo's feet, watching him closely. He only left when he was sure that the hobbit was asleep. Then he crept back to his own bedroll and stretched out himself. When he slept, he dreamt of different ways that all of this could have happened. Frodo was asleep and Gollum appeared at his side. Legolas jumped up with a cry and drew his bowstring back, ready to send the arrow flying. But then he fell and the memories returned to him. He heard Frodo's voice calling to him and he was forced to go through the whole thing again. Except in his dream, while running from the orcs, Frodo died in his arms.
Balin was watching the Fellowship from behind a pillar. The sight of Frodo taking the herbs made him snort. But then, when he was sleeping, the dwarf was quietly reminded of Bilbo. He missed the old hobbit, always spelling out his name to anyone who would listen. So stubborn and yet so unsure. But always on hand should trouble strike. His face fell at the memory of his ungratefulness when being freed from the Mirkwood elves. Bilbo had saved them that day! But Balin had done nothing but complain. He felt himself blush with inner shame. What had he done? He owed so much to Bilbo. Just like his nephew had spoken of. And he had tried only to save himself. So desperate to stop the name of Balin from fading. The mention of Dwalin had brought back painful recollections. So many years he had been here, working for the dark side. Because he wanted to save himself.
"Coward," he told himself, "Nothing but a coward. You could have saved Frodo and been a hero! But you.. you.. you coward!"
And with this last ringing word, he curled up in a tight ball on the floor. The city of Dwarrowdelf was silent as the grave as the ten of them slept soundly through the deep night. But other eyes- thousands of brightly lit eyes- watched from all around.
~ Chapter Twenty ~
"No," Legolas repeated before either man could speak. "I will not trust Frodo with any means that dwarf has to offer. Do you not see what he has done to him? He was near death and you would trust Balin now?"
"Legolas, this is our only hope," Aragorn said quietly, "Without it, Frodo will die. Do you not want to protect him?"
"Yes! And I am protecting him from Balin am I not?" the elf protested. Boromir took him by the arm and looked at him long and hard.
"I understand how you feel. I do not trust Balin for an instant but there is no more we can do for him. Whatever it is, whether it be good or ill, there is nothing more we can do for Frodo," he said. Legolas nodded but he turned and gazed at the hobbit stretched out on his bedroll. He was sleeping fitfully and every once in a while he would flinch and lash out at the air, the Ring's chain flowing out from between his fingers.
"I came to protect the Ringbearer," he said weakly, realising that his friends were right. Aragorn and Boromir escorted him back to the camp. They all sat in a tight circle, examining the contents of the box. It was filled with small dark blue and green herbs that let off a pungent scent. They used the last of Aragorn's water to mix them in. Then, the ranger handed the flask to Legolas, saying,
"You give it to him, friend."
Legolas rose and padded across to where Frodo lay resting. Gently, he touched Frodo's shoulder. The hobbit started awake, still trembling with fear from his nightmares. At the sight of Legolas, he relaxed and sat up, rubbing at his eyes.
"Legolas," he said drowsily, "Why.. why are you here?"
"I have a drink for you to take. Is your throat still dry?"
Frodo nodded and took the libation gratefully. He took long lingering gulps making the elf wince. Could it be poison he was swallowing? Had he just help kill his little companion? But Frodo seemed none the worse when he finished and handed the flask back to him. Legolas took it uncertainly.
"Frodo, do you feel.. alright?"
"Fine," the hobbit replied. He sounded rather sleepy and he lay back down. "Legolas," he said after a long pause, "Are you still blaming yourself for- for what happened? ..Tell me the truth."
The elf thought for a while, absently stroking back Frodo's hair from his forehead. With a deep sigh, he answered,
"Yes. I know that I should not have taken you and I was foolhardy. But at the sight of Gollum, I just wanted to see him gone. For good. I never expected any of this."
Frodo closed his eyes with a smile.
"You are silly, Legolas," he said. "You could not have stopped me going after Gollum.. even if you had tied me to the ground. I would have followed you and.. all of this.. would have happened again."
Legolas was silent for a long time, crouching at Frodo's feet, watching him closely. He only left when he was sure that the hobbit was asleep. Then he crept back to his own bedroll and stretched out himself. When he slept, he dreamt of different ways that all of this could have happened. Frodo was asleep and Gollum appeared at his side. Legolas jumped up with a cry and drew his bowstring back, ready to send the arrow flying. But then he fell and the memories returned to him. He heard Frodo's voice calling to him and he was forced to go through the whole thing again. Except in his dream, while running from the orcs, Frodo died in his arms.
Balin was watching the Fellowship from behind a pillar. The sight of Frodo taking the herbs made him snort. But then, when he was sleeping, the dwarf was quietly reminded of Bilbo. He missed the old hobbit, always spelling out his name to anyone who would listen. So stubborn and yet so unsure. But always on hand should trouble strike. His face fell at the memory of his ungratefulness when being freed from the Mirkwood elves. Bilbo had saved them that day! But Balin had done nothing but complain. He felt himself blush with inner shame. What had he done? He owed so much to Bilbo. Just like his nephew had spoken of. And he had tried only to save himself. So desperate to stop the name of Balin from fading. The mention of Dwalin had brought back painful recollections. So many years he had been here, working for the dark side. Because he wanted to save himself.
"Coward," he told himself, "Nothing but a coward. You could have saved Frodo and been a hero! But you.. you.. you coward!"
And with this last ringing word, he curled up in a tight ball on the floor. The city of Dwarrowdelf was silent as the grave as the ten of them slept soundly through the deep night. But other eyes- thousands of brightly lit eyes- watched from all around.