Disclaimer: I don't own any brilliant fantasy series that have been made into wildly popular movies. But neither do you, so we're even.
A/N: Hello and welcome to the third chapter. Tonight (or whenever you're reading this) I invite you to join me for a time of wonder, excitement, and just plain insane stupidity. Speaking of which...I believe it's time to start the chapter.
Truth or Dare
Dumbledore steepled his fingers in that maddeningly wise and benevolent way that wizards spend years perfecting. "Okay, let's go over this one more time," he said mildly to Gimli and Legolas. Aragorn had dropped off in his chair about half an hour earlier, but since he never had anything relevant to contribute to any conversation anyway it didn't make much difference.
Legolas sighed. "Okay, I'm Legolas and I'm an elf. He's Gimli and he's a dwarf. Sleeping Ugly over there is Aragorn."
"Please continue," Dumbledore said mildly as if he wasn't hearing this for the seventh time. Legolas was beginning to wonder if his voice had any setting but "mild."
"And we all live in Middle-earth and...uh...there are these four idiot hobbits that we try to keep alive because we feel sorry for them and one of them has the Ring of Power so we constantly have to save him from getting himself killed. And there's this annoyingly superior wizard that always shows up when we really need him but not when we could really use him. And we all run around trying to get away from orcs and then fighting them when we can't get away, but somehow we manage to attract thousands of females along the way."
"Speak for yourself," Gimli muttered angrily, slouching even further down in his chair.
Legolas put on his concerned look. "Oh, Gimli, I'm so sorry I forgot. That's only me and Aragorn. Though on second thought, most of the characters do have some ardent supporters. In fact, you're probably the only one other than Sam who—"
"Boys, boys," Dumbledore interrupted mildly, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses. Legolas and Gimli stopped at once, having learned to be wary of Gandalf's twinkling look long ago. It usually meant something was about to happen that they wouldn't like. Nor was the premonition amiss this time.
"I, for one, believe you," he continued. "But you realize we can't trust you without proof."
"So what do you suggest?" asked Gimli impatiently. Dumbledore gave him a serene smile.
"Patience, young grasshopper. I was just getting to that point. My suggestion is that we use Veritaserum. Don't worry," he added at the looks on their faces, "it's totally painless."
Gimli looked at Legolas. Legolas looked at Gimli. Gimli shrugged. "What the heck, why not?" Legolas gave him a dirty look for stealing the line he'd been about to say, but nodded in agreement.
"All right then," said Dumbledore briskly, standing up. "Let's all go on over to Severus's office and we can get started. If you would be so kind as to wake up your friend..." He stood by the door waiting.
Legolas reached over and shook Aragorn's shoulder. "Come on, we're leaving." Aragorn yawned and rubbed his eyes blearily.
"Where are we? Where are we going? Who am I?" he asked sleepily. Legolas and Gimli as usual ignored the pointless comments and questions that accompanied Aragorn's return to consciousness, or indeed any other time of day.
"We're going to prove our identity," Gimli told him as they each grabbed an arm and heaved him up out of his chair. Aragorn looked puzzled.
"But I already know who I am," he complained. "I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, King of Gondor, Strider—"
"Save it for the Veritaserum, Aragorn," Legolas ordered, starting to pull him to the door where Dumbledore was still waiting, looking more mildly bemused than ever.
Five minutes later, they were down in the dungeons standing in front of a forbidding-looking door. "I hear a fell voice on the air," Legolas whispered to Gimli, who snorted.
"Why can't you ever just say 'This place gives me the creeps' like normal people?" he demanded. Not deigning to answer this slur on his Elf heritage and senses, Legolas turned away with a sniff.
Dumbledore had faithfully ignored this exchange and now reached out to knock on the door. A few seconds later it was answered by a surly-looking man with hair almost as bad as Aragorn's.
"What do you—oh, Headmaster," he amended quickly when he saw who it was. "I was not anticipating a visit from you today." His piercing black eyes moved to the trio standing behind Dumbledore. "And who are these?"
"Visitors, Severus," Dumbledore replied mildly. "I was hoping we could use some of your Veritaserum. May we come in?" Severus's eyebrows arched, but Dumbledore walked past him into the room without waiting for a reply. He beckoned for Gimli, Aragorn, and Legolas to follow. When they hesitated, he assured them, "Don't worry, Severus doesn't bite."
[Hard,] Legolas finished as they entered somewhat nervously, except for Aragorn who still wasn't sure what was going on. On shelves around the room were jars of various creatures—or former creatures—that gave the room a strong resemblance to Sauron's tower room.
"Veritaserum, eh?" Severus asked, stepping over to a cabinet in the corner of his office. He opened it, rummaged through the many bottles there for a second, and emerged victorious with a small bottle. "Here it is." He handed it to Dumbledore.
"And three spoons," Dumbledore requested mildly. Throwing everybody suspicious looks, Severus took some spoons from a nearby table and gave them to Dumbledore as well.
"Now let's see," Dumbledore mused as he opened the bottle. "Three drops apiece should do it." He carefully measured three drops of liquid into each spoon and distributed them. "Down the hatch."
Legolas favored his spoon with a dark look, but resignedly swallowed its contents. He wasn't quite sure what happened after that, because he started to feel a little drowsy...and very, very anxious to tell the truth to anyone who asked for it.
Dumbledore waited until all three pairs of eyes glazed over, then sat down with satisfaction. "Now," he said mildly, steepling his fingers, "let's go over this one more time. You are?"
Half an hour later, Dumbledore and Snape were absolutely convinced that their guests from Middle Earth were telling the truth. "Well, that's a load off my mind," Dumbledore sighed, leaning back in his chair.
Snape didn't agree. "But Headmaster, they don't belong here. And they certainly can't stay here!" He looked distastefully at the zoned-out comrades. "How do we get them back into their books where they belong?"
"Books?" Dumbledore inquired mildly, frowning slightly.
"Tolkien. You've never studied Muggle literature?"
"Alas, no," Dumbledore sighed. "That particular avenue of pleasure has been denied me. But," he added, brightening, "I do know about other Muggle things. Like lemon drops!"
Snape rolled his eyes. "Tell me, Headmaster, do you ever have any fun?"
"Oh, yes. Of course. Every week I rearrange my sock collection to make sure my sock-sorting faculties are still in good condition. It's quite stimulating, I assure you."
"I'll take your word for it," Snape muttered. "But I meant *real* fun. Like this." He leaned toward Aragorn. "Who is your secret love?" he demanded.
Aragorn's blank eyes stared straight ahead. "Arwen, of course. I mean," an internal struggle seemed to be taking place, "Éowyn. No wait, it's Arwen. Éowyn." His brow furrowed. "Arwen. Éowyn. Arwen! Éowyn! Um...both, I guess."
Even Dumbledore had to smile as this battle raged, but Snape wasn't done yet. "What do you do in your spare time?" he asked, turning on Gimli.
"Well, in the morning after breakfast I usually spend an hour or two insulting Legolas. Afterward we scream and run away from orcs for a bit and when we're done with that I insult Legolas for a while. And when we have nothing to do in the evening around the campfire I take some time to insult Legolas," he finished.
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Busy schedule," he remarked mildly. "Here, let me try one." He turned to Legolas. "Is it true that you sing alto?"
A/N: Hi, this and the next two chapters were originally going to be one chapter but then I decided the original title didn't fit most of the material so I split it up. Also five chapters look cooler than three. Coming Up Next: Who Was That Hot Elf Anyway?