The Difference
by Leafy
Rating: PG-13 for violence, bad attitudes, and tense situations.
Author's Note: This fanfic is loosely inspired by an episode of the television show "Deep Space Nine", and is much more drawn from the movie of FOTR, than the book, though there are elements of both in here.
I hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien or DS9.
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Cheysuli: Thanks for the review! 'Oh dear' is right! :o)
Raider314: Good to hear from you again! :o) I hope you're enjoying this. Yeah, I barely remember the ep I'm referencing, so even if you had seen it, it still might not be very close. Thanks for the review! :o)
Enigma Jade: Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying this! Yeah, a definite twist. And more to come. :o) Thanks again!
D-eyes: Thank you for the review! It was very nice. :o) I'm glad you like this story. Yeah, Legolas as Ringbearer is definitely a dangerous assumption. :o) Thanks again!
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Onward!!
* * *
Chapter 3
'Imprisonment'
Gandalf studied the flask in his hands with concerned puzzlement.
"In every outward way, it appears only to be a flask," he said quietly. "Nothing more."
"It may be," said Aragorn, "but light came out of it."
"I don't doubt that it did," Gandalf replied dolefully. "And I don't doubt that it means something. However, no trace here remains of whatever it was."
Aragorn sat down in frustration, glaring at the ground.
"That Elf is dangerous," he said. "Violent. He's like no other Elf I've ever seen," Aragorn looked back up at the others. "And he said something strange--I believe he's under the impression that Legolas has the Ring."
Worry changed to horrified guilt on Frodo's face, and he stepped forward.
"We've got to find him," said the hobbit emphatically, though he couldn't help but feel like he was stating the obvious.
"Yes, of course," said Gandalf commendingly, standing up, still holding the flask. "Aragorn, can you lead us back to the clearing where you found this?"
"With certainty," the ranger responded, rising also.
***
After assessing the clear himself, Frodo thought it hopeless, that they were going to find Legolas, or anything useful to his recovery, there.
Aragorn identified the exact spot where he had seen Legolas vanish, but it was completely unextraordinary from the rest of the clearing. Looking at it, Gandalf appeared to come no closer to figuring out what the Elf had used on Legolas.
"It's no use," said Frodo woefully, looking behind him at the trees on the edge of the clearing. They all seemed the same, from where he stood. "There's nothing here."
"Not anymore," said Gandalf, turning his head to the side, to look where Frodo was looking. The wizard straightened up suddenly, and set off out of the clearing. "Come," he called back to the others, as if he was onto something.
Apparently, the wizard was onto something. He appeared to be following a trail, and a complicated one, at that. The rest of the present fellowship followed in silence, wondering if he had found something that the rest of them had missed.
Weaving and winding through the forest, the fellowship followed Gandalf, finally coming to the end of it, to a long field of knee-length grass. At the far end of it lay a strange, out-of-place cluster of trees. Gandalf paused where he stood, gazing at the trees further off, a glimmer of satisfaction appearing briefly in his eyes.
He continued on to the puzzling area, breaking through the tree with the rest of the party.
The space inside of the trees was quite large, the perhaps of a large town square. In the center of the space was set a strange structure. It was made of wood, slopped together with mud, but it seemed important, like a castle.
Gandalf stepped forward, looking for an entrance.
As he did so, there was a sudden hiss, and an arrow shot down, lightly pinning the hem of Gandalf's cloak to the ground. The wizard stepped to the side, looking down a it in surprise, then up, to find his aerial assailant. Before he could locate him, or any of the others could do anything, though, three more arrows fell, barely missing their targets, and a sizable group of Elves, whom Aragorn noted looked much like the Elves he'd encountered in the clearing, slid down the trunks of the trees all around them, drawing swords and closing in on the fellowship as they hit the ground.
The fellowship drew their weapons as well, but kept still, as they were obviously greatly outnumbered.
One of the hostile ones came forward, walking past Aragorn, then bent down and plucked an arrow, which had scraped the hilt of Aragorn's sword, out of the ground. He held it up, turning back to the ranger.
"Practice makes perfect," he said simply, then repositioned himself before his own comrades.
"Who are you?" asked Aragorn severely.
"I believe I should be the one asking you that," the Elf replied. "And what you are doing here. Make it quick."
Aragorn merely looked at his enemy. What could he say, that wouldn't anger them further? It would do them no good to have a battle to deal with.
"Have you forgotten?" the Elf continued cynically, looking about at the rest of the fellowship. "Perhaps Norgeth will be able to refresh your memory."
So saying, the Elf stepped forward with his men, to take the fellowship into custody. The leader seized Aragorn firmly by the arm. Aragorn drew his sword, prepared now for defense, but a glance in Gandalf's direction told him that he mustn't provoke them here, now. These beings would probably have no qualms about slaughtering the lot of them right there, outside their palace.
***
Norgeth turned out to be the same Elf whom Aragorn had wounded back in the clearing with Legolas.
"Take their weapons," Norgeth said, after briefly studying his visitors. "I want to be able to trust them."
Aragorn looked at him with full animosity as a guard pulled his sword away.
"Have you come for Emblethor?" Norgeth inquired from the slightly-elevated space on the floor where he stood, a few paces away from the fellowship. "I'm afraid there's no point to it, now."
"Who?" Aragorn asked, somewhat defiantly.
Norgeth's eyebrows raised in true surprise, but his voice maintained its glib tone.
"You don't know?" he asked. "Surely, at the very least, you should know the name of the one for whom you risked your very life."
Aragorn realized that Norgeth must have been referring to the victimized Elf he'd dragged away from the clearing. The full meaning of the Elf's statement hit him, then. "I'm afraid there's no point to it, now." That could only mean that this Emblethor was dead…
Aragorn glanced at Gandalf, who was studying Norgeth with subtle abhorrence. He understood, as well.
Aragorn quickly added things up in his mind. If Norgeth had meant to kill Emblethor, which he obviously had, than that may have been the purpose of the flask, or more specifically, the contents of the flask, which had claimed Legolas.
"We seek another," Frodo's voice sounded suddenly.
Aragorn looked up in surprise as the hobbit stepped toward the Elf, looking up stoutly at Norgeth, who looked annoyed.
"A comrade of ours," Frodo continued, unhindered. "An Elf. We believe you know where he is."
"Do you?" Norgeth began bemusedly, then stopped. He began eyeing Frodo, with the same look that, if Aragorn had been in the clearing before Legolas was attacked, he would have recognized as the same one that Norgeth had given Legolas at his accusation of "ringbearer". Norgeth leaned forward slowly.
"What about you?" Norgeth asked Frodo softly. "Do you know where the ring is?"
Almost unnoticeably, the Elf reached out gradually, his right hand making its way forward, toward Frodo's shirt collar. Frodo looked down at it warily.
Suddenly, apparently unable to contain himself any longer, Sam, who'd been standing next to Frodo, sprang forward, shoving Norgeth forcefully away. He didn't have enough strength to completely bowl the Elf over, but he did make him stumble back most effectively. Norgeth recovered himself, looking at Sam with hatred.
"Impudent little--" he began, stepping forward as Sam came forward as well, glaring at him dangerously, his fists at the ready. Norgeth smirked a little, stepping back.
"Take them away," he commanded his guards, still looking mockingly at them. "Take them all away. They trouble me."
**********
Legolas allowed his face to register the shock at hearing "Lord Frodo", but was ushered inside by the two guards, and received an even bigger shock, before he could say anything about it.
The foyer of the castle was the throne room, with no hallway leading to it. There were three equally-sized, plain thrones at the back of the room, and a round, aged carpet just before them. There was no one seated at the center throne, or the one on the right, but there was a small figure perched on the one of the left. On seeing Legolas and the two others enter, it stirred, getting off the throne and making its way hurriedly forward. As the figure came into focus, Legolas saw that it was a hobbit. A very familiar-looking hobbit.
"Merry?" the prince gasped, as he halted before them.
This hobbit, who seemed in every physical way to be Merry, though perhaps a bit of an older Merry, had appeared more and more distressed as he came down to meet them, staring at Legolas. However, he seemed to become more distressed than ever at the mention of his name.
"Who are you?" the hobbit demanded tensely.
"Legolas," one of the guards answered for him, sounding meaningful. "We found him wandering about outside, my Lord. We thought that Lord Frodo would want to see him."
Without hesitation, Merry reached up and, with surprising strength, pulled the Elf-guard down to eye level.
"Have you gone mad?" he whispered, obviously trying to prevent Legolas from hearing. He was unsuccessful. "What would happen?" he continued harshly, though still softly. "Get rid of him," he ordered, then released the Elf, allowing him to straighten up with dignity, once more.
Legolas looked at his new captors with alarm, as one each seized his arms, steering him toward a small side doorway.
"What have I done?" Legolas asked, bewildered.
"Trespassed," one of the guards muttered, after a pause. "On land where you do not belong."
***
After they departed from the throne room, the guards released Legolas' arms, probably because escape from the two of them, in the dark and narrow hallway they were now all traversing, would be impossible, due to the cramped conditions and the fact that his weapons were confiscated the moment he'd been hauled out of the throne room, before he could collect himself enough to do much to prevent it.
At the end of the hall was a small, bare room with three doorways in the opposite wall. There was another Elf in this room, sitting in a chair in the corner, as if on guard. It occurred to Legolas then that the oddly friendly woman he'd met through the window had probably mistaken him for one of the palace's guards, instead of recognizing him as a stranger. This, he attributed to the fact that he, himself was an Elf, and the castle's guard appeared to be solely comprised of Elves.
The two guards escorting Legolas (if it could be called that) led him through the center passage, completely ignoring the other Elf in the room. The two led Legolas down another dark hall, though there was a distinct, yellowish light at the end of this one. As they drew nearer to it, Legolas saw that it was the opening to the kitchens, as there were what had to be visible food stains on the wall in front of him, and the clanging of pots and slopping of water could be here. Suddenly, the woman who had bathed Legolas outside appeared briefly in the doorway, carrying a large, tarnished pot with both hands. She moved quickly past, straining not to drop her burden. At her heels scurried a young female halfling. She was carrying as many potatoes as she could hold in her apron, obviously preparing to join the woman in making dinner.
Legolas frowned as the guards pressed him forward. Were they going to put him to work?
Apparently not. Very abruptly and almost unexpectedly, one of the Elves grabbed Legolas roughly by the shoulders and turned him off to the side, to a small, square door in the wall. It was quite near to the floor. If it hadn't been pointed out to him, Legolas probably would have missed it.
One of the guards stooped down, drawing a key out of some pocket. Legolas counted five locks, as the guard stuck his key into each one, twisting it. Just as he finished, the other Elf knelt down, extracted his own key, and performed the same task, on the same locks. After he'd finished this lengthy chore, the guard inserted the tips of his fingers into the nonexistent space between the door's edges and the wall. He pulled the door out, like the lid of a well, moving out of the way.
"In there," the other guard told Legolas, gesturing with the sword the prince had not seen him pull out.
Legolas looked at him, stunned. They were really going to do this…
"But--" Legolas faltered. "But, I don't understand. Why are you imprisoning me?"
"For trespassing," the Elf snapped angrily, then leaned forward, as if divulging a dangerous secret. "Besides, this is better than the alternative," he said softly, earnestly. The other Elf nodded a little behind him, looking at Legolas as if he was trying to identify with him. Legolas was only more confused.
"What alternative?" he chanced.
The Elf who'd spoken pursed his lips in annoyance now. He jabbed at the open doorway at his feet.
"Get in," he said, truly serious.
Knowing resistance would only result in trouble, Legolas obeyed, climbing in and turning around to look at the guards as they replaced the door. He could think of something to do about this better if he was alone.
But apparently, he wasn't alone. As soon as the light was shut out of the space he'd just crawled into, Legolas realized there was someone else there, behind him. He turned on his heels, straightening up until he was only bent over a bit at the waist, as this was as far as he could straighten up with bumping into the stone ceiling.
"Who's there?" he demanded sharply, looking about in the dim light.
There was a crash, and Legolas saw a small form fall to the floor, from some perch in the corner of the room, up on the wall. It landed flat on its face.
The figure recovered itself, straightening up to stand at full height, hobbit-height. Legolas could tell now that it was a male hobbit, but it held its hand before its face, as though injured. If it hadn't been for this, Legolas might have been able to tell who it was, right then.
Snorting a little, the hobbit rubbed his hand gently on his face, then drew it away, looking half sheepishly, half disgusted at Legolas. Legolas gasped.
This creature before him, this hobbit, had done something nasty to his nose when he fell, for a little blood trickled out of it, running down to his chin. But this was not at all the shock that Legolas received when he looked at his face. Though it was hard and hostile, there was still a bit of an enduring, optimistic hopefulness left there, very familiar to Legolas.
"Sam?"
~~End of Part 3