Author: Mirrordance
Title: Tempus Edax Rerum ("Time, the Devourer of All Things")
Summary: The Fellowship of the Ring runs across a time-traveling Legolas of the future whose mission is, strangely, to keep them from succeeding…
PART THREE: Into the Dark
Mines of Moria
January 13, 3019, the Third Age
Greenleaf readied his guns, and stayed at the flank of the group, as one by one they entered into the mine. In truth, he longed to stand beside Gimli as the dwarf discovers in anguish of what evil had transpired and ultimately destroyed his kin in the great mines, but his first concerns were settled with keeping the fellowship alive and safe.
From the rear, he heard Gimli jovially describe a mine, and for Boromir and his younger self to quickly see that it was more of a tomb at this time, razed by goblins, with bodies of dwarves littering the dusty ground.
"We should not have come here," Gandalf said under his breath, as slowly, the fellowship of the ring backed away from the cold darkness of the interior of the mine, returning to the dim light of the night sky from where they came.
Greenleaf stood against the opening of the gate, and fired his guns at the first tentacles of the foul beast that shot from the black waters, the lasers sending forth straight beams of orange light that seared the flesh it struck, making the beast cry out in a most unearthly way.
Numerous more tentacles rose from the water, and the beast reared its massive, ugly head. Beside him, Greenleaf felt the hobbits whimper, and hurriedly make their way back into the deeps of Moria, as he, Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli and Boromir covered their retreat.
Much as they had the last time Greenleaf had lived this experience, the beast's tentacles embraced at the walls of the mines in an effort to reach its prey, making the rock crumble over the exit, and for all light to cease.
* * *
After the last of the rocks had stilled, a dim radiance from Gandalf's staff glowed in the heavy blackness of Moria, as he declared most gravely that now they had no choice but to move forward along the only path before them.
Greenleaf stepped forward towards the head of the column, beside Gandalf, and drew out his flashlight, flicking on the button and setting greater yellow light into the gloom. He handed it to the old wizard, saying, ~Save your energy, Mithrandir. This will be our light.~
Gandalf's staff dimmed, and he looked at Greenleaf in a most peculiar way, before accepting the silver stick with a tentative smile, ~You know something I do not, Greenleaf. And I do not have the heart to ask what it is. But thank you.~
"Wow, Greenleaf, what on all of Arda is that?" asked Pippin, awed, and tried to walk at Gandalf's pace as he craned his neck to see what it was.
"It's a flashlight, Pippin," Greenleaf replied with a smile, "I thought you might like it."
Gandalf raised the flashlight into the dark, shedding some light along their path. Before them lay two hundred, ragged, damaged and uneven steps that led to an arched passage over level ground that led to what looked like nothingness.
"It's a rather long way, isn't it?" Samwise asked Greenleaf, "How long to the other side, Greenleaf, assuming we do reach it?"
"We will," Greenleaf promised him, and there seemed a collective sigh from the rest of the hobbits, and even some more quiet ones from the others of the fellowship, "It will take us less than four days, and I guarantee you it will simply fly by."
Frodo smiled at this, and shook off his fears of the dark, and from the monster at the door. "Why don't we sit and rest here upon the landing for awhile, and have something to eat?"
The suggestion was well-received and in minutes, the company found themselves dining upon the steps. Greenleaf better lit the meal when he drew out a strange, slim, flexible stick filled with a murky white liquid. He cracked at it and it glowed orange, and he laid it upon the ground as they ate.
Pippin, ever curious, sat beside him and asked him about what else he held inside his coats.
"Not much else," he chuckled, tasting Sam's broth and closing his eyes in pleasure of this meal that was actually so simple, but tasted exquisite because of the memories that accompanied it. He was eating with ghosts, and dreams, and recollections.
Legolas watched him with set jaws and stern eyes and beside him, Aragorn was doing the same except once in awhile, his eyes would drift to the elf at his side, and marvel at him.
~The things you would see,~ Aragorn said to Legolas softly, ~I cannot begin to imagine the histories you would unfold before your watchful elf-eyes.~
~Nor I,~ said Legolas, with more than a hint of sadness to his voice that was not lost on the Ranger.
~All will be well, mellon,~ he said quietly.
~You wouldn't know,~ Legolas told him with a wan smile, ~Greenleaf does, and he says otherwise.~
Greenleaf looked up at them, and they knew he heard the entire exchange from the time it began, blessed as he was with his elven hearing. His eyes glowed even in the dim light of his blasted strange, modern, glowing sticks. But he averted his gaze and lowered his head, focusing upon his food.
"If I had a time machine," Pippin said suddenly, "I would go straight to the moment when we leave this place."
"If I had a time machine," retorted Merry, "I would go back to the time when you ever learned anything about time machines and shut your ears so you wouldn't keep talking about it."
Gimli sat beside Aragorn with a grunt, leaning his axe against the steps. "Do you think anyone survived?" he asked, his grumbling voice low and quiet and underlined with a sadness that was only surpassed by the depth of his eyes.
"I do not think so, Gimli," Aragorn admitted.
"I… I'm sorry, Master Dwarf," Legolas felt compelled to say, simply because he was there, "Your kind may not rest in my favor, but from the look of things I can still admire the bravery by which they stood their ground."
"Thank you," Gimli said tightly, as uncomfortable with the elf's kindness as he was with returning it.
Between them, Aragorn pursed his lips to keep from smiling, and looked up at Greenleaf who had a similar look on his face, as their twinkling eyes met.
It was in those eyes that Aragorn had finally found the Legolas that he truly did know. The lightness of his heart meshed inextricably with his devotion to his duties. He had always been an elf apart from the rest, with a curious impulse and passion that was more like to a mortal, living as if there was no tomorrow. It was in these thoughts that Aragorn found himself rising from his place and joining Greenleaf, leaving Legolas and Gimli to their own devices, trusting them not to strangle each other for the first time since they were introduced.
He felt Legolas watch his back, but otherwise paid it no heed. Pippin and Merry had occupied each other once again, as Sam and Frodo spoke in lowered tones of older days, and Gandalf and Boromir spoke of their route. In this picture did Greenleaf seem even more dreadfully alone than the sadness that had already been in his eyes to begin with.
Aragorn sat beside him, and the elf looked up at him with an uncertain, tentative smile.
"If I so much as move towards you," said Greenleaf, amused, "Legolas would send an arrow through my neck in the blink of an eye. He is fiercely protective of you."
"Is this a sentiment that you share?" Aragorn asked.
"Of course," Greenleaf replied, "We are one, after all. Although he is loathe to accept it. I wonder why. Am I really so bad?"
Aragorn smirked, "I think he disapproves of your fashions."
Legolas of course, with his sharp elf ears heard this and scowled at Aragorn, before deciding to occupy himself with Gimli instead.
"He does have a care for that head of hair," Aragorn continued, not discouraged at all, "And he is probably upset that you cut it."
Greenleaf smiled, gratified for the humor and comfort that his old friend was offering him graciously, "Well. Hair grows. He needn't hate me for it."
They fell to a companionable silence, broken only by moments of dully clanking tin as Sam re-packed their foodstuffs, and Pippin's musical laughter.
"Is the future really so bad as you look when you think about it?" Aragorn asked him softly.
Greenleaf gave it a moment of thought. "Your wisdom and valor would lend Middle-Earth peace and happiness for centuries, so I suppose it is not so bad, at least for awhile. When everyone begins to die around me, I can only attribute it to my fate as an elf, and know there is little that I could do about it. And then Yuno arrives, and this great weight..." he shook his head in dismay, and sighed, "When I had left, the few surviving mortals from the razing of Middle-Earth were allowed refuge into the Undying Lands. But Yuno had set his mind in the destruction of all that Eru had ever made, and he was coming. Mortal, Elf, Maiar, Valar, all set their armies at the ready, and the Valar came together in a way unparalleled even by the War of Wrath. And still they thought that their best hopes lain with me."
Aragorn's brows furrowed at the thought of the Destroyer, as powerful as Eru himself, and at the cruel fate that had all brought them together like this. "Would you kill for the ring?"
"Yes," Greenleaf said levelly, "I cannot lie to you. I know what failure means. I would kill for the ring. And you would die for it, wouldn't you? Which sends us along opposite poles, and yet here you are, sitting with me."
"I cannot abhor you for what you feel you need to do," Aragorn told him quietly, after a moment of thought, "anymore than you can hate me, or yourself, for the determination to destroy the ring. We can all of us do only what we know to be right and true, when we know it to be right and true."
"Well then," Greenleaf smiled, trying to take the edge off the conversation as he was wont to, "I will take no offense if you try to kill me for trying to kill you."
Aragorn laughed, "Nor will I, mellon."
And Greenleaf laughed, even as his eyes watered, because long has it been since he had heard the voice of his old, long-dead friend call him by that endearment, and it chipped at the ice in his years-weathered heart.
He blinked at his tears, and lowered his head to hide his face, drawing out a slim pack filled with strips and strips of band-aids.
"I brought you something," he said with a smile, handing the pack to Aragorn, who opened it curiously. He examined a strip.
"It is a bandage, of sorts," said Greenleaf, "for minor cuts. You needn't tie it, because it sticks to the skin. We call them band-aids."
Aragorn smiled, genuinely touched by the thought, though he joked, "You brought Pippin a flashlight and this is what you thought to bring me."
"It's because I know you get into a lot of trouble," laughed Greenleaf, taking a strip and wrapping it around a small cut he had found in Aragorn's sword hand, "It keeps the wound clean, helps it heal, and keeps it from stinging when it touches and brushes things."
"They must have very little to do in the future," said Aragorn as he raised his hand up for a look, "to think of these things."
"I did say you bought centuries of peace with your wisdom and valor," chuckled Greenleaf, "congratulations, your courage has paved the way for band-aids."
Aragorn laughed, "I always knew I was meant for great things."
TO BE CONTINUED…