Media: The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (movie)

Timeline: Pippin takes the Palantir.

Genres: Brotherhood, Fantasy, Filler, Friendship, Whump

Summary: Missing moments of Legolas sensing Sauron and after Aragorn holds the Palantir.

Notes: Movie-verse and not really AU. I'm really just adding dialogue.
This story was not supposed to be this detailed and deep. It was titled The Palantir at first and I was actually going to begin after Aragorn's talk with Éowyn. Then Legolas' complicated feelings sensing this "sleepless malice" spilled onto the blank page and this one shot was born.

A darkness lurked in the back of his mind, growing. It arrested his consciousness and refused to release him into Elven dreams. The shadow mocked him, teased him, laughed at his frustration.

Legolas blinked furiously in the dark, eyes transfixed on the ceiling. Restlessness was rare to him as Elves can sleep—if you could call it sleep—easily, sometimes while traveling if the situation called for it. Legolas of Mirkwood himself had wandered through dreamland while sprinting over a great distance in pursuit of Merry and Pippin.

Legolas shifted on his suddenly uncomfortable makeshift bed on the floor. The tireless Elf had offered to keep watch over Edoras, but Aragorn insisted that he rest in preparation for the battles ahead. Legolas agreed, but the Shadow had other plans.

Unable to bear the suffocating room any longer, the Elf rolled out of his sleeping place and grabbed his green Lothlórien cloak. He draped it over his shoulders and pulled the hood over his silvery blond locks. Then he carefully stepped over his snoring companions and silently slipped into the night.

Legolas inhaled the crisp air deeply. Nature usually calmed the Wood-Elf, but the shadow in his mind only grew darker, closer. It worried him.

"Ai Elbereth, what darkness hunts us now?" Legolas whispered. His soft voice sounded loud against the silence.

The young Elf gazed at the looming mountain range. Dark clouds blocked out the stars as a gentle breeze made the banners of Rohan flutter. The people slept peacefully in their homes, blissfully unaware of the Shadow that tormented the mind of Legolas. It mocked him and, when Legolas met it with defiance, it laughed at him.

The sun was beginning to rise when heard footsteps behind him and his nose caught the burning stench of pipeweed. Miraculously, he managed to not recoil at the scent. The steps paused before starting again, growing louder as the person approached. He knew who it was.

"The stars are veiled, something stirs in the East," Legolas muttered softly to Aragorn, who was now standing beside him on the steps to the Golden Hall. "A sleepless malice." He finally tore his eyes away from the horizon to glance at his friend, fully realizing what the darkness in his mind was. "The Eye of the Enemy is moving."

"Is this what ails you, my friend?" Aragorn asked quietly, an expression of concern on his rugged face.

Legolas nodded. "A darkness has been growing in my mind. Something draws near."

Freezing cold washed over him and he felt his stomach knot as actual peals of laughter echoed in his mind. Legolas turned to Aragorn with wide eyes.

"He is here."

A cry echoed from their sleeping quarters. Their eyes met before Aragorn raced to the door with Legolas at his heels.

The Ranger burst through the door and froze at the horrific chaos. Pippin gripped the Palantir in his small hands, his eyes closed and twisting on the floor, his mouth open in a silent scream. The Palantir was glowing with yellow flames and seemed to cling to the Hobbit's shaking hands. Merry knelt beside him, wisely keeping his distance while screaming for help. The older Hobbit's face was pale with fear. The others in the room were startled awake, too sluggish to do anything more than gawk at the scene. Gandalf drew his sword, which could do little.

Tossing his pipe away, Aragorn surged forward and, not bothering to consider the consequences, snatched the Palantir from Pippin's surprisingly strong grip. A burning presence slammed into his mind, the force knocking the man to his knees. He began to fall again when firm hands gripped his shoulders, supporting him.

The overpowering presence in his head seemed to scope it out, and Aragorn willed his mind blank. The man squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to gaze into the sphere anymore than he already had. In his mind, the Eye of Sauron formed through the wild flame.

"You are not a Hobbit," a deep, breathy voice spat. "Who are you?" Aragorn refused to acknowledge him. "You are a Man," Sauron continued, mulling over the information for a moment. "And who is the other I sense?" A beat of silence. "Ahh, a Wood-Elf."

The hands holding him jerked, pitching the Ranger to the side. The Palantir slipped from Aragorn's fingers and rolled away. Gandalf tossed a blanket over the sphere to shield them and the Dark Lord vanished. The future king gasped as the darkness left his mind instantly. He blinked to adjust to the light as a headache began to form.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf bellowed, turning  with fire in his eyes. His expression immediately softened at the sight of the young Hobbit. His eyes were glazed over, unseeing.

Aragorn rose to his feet with some aid from Legolas while Gandalf rushed over to Pippin, shoving poor Merry aside.

"Is he still here?" Aragorn whispered. He felt the need to whisper.

"A moment," Legolas whispered back. The Elf closed his eyes and grimaced like a headache was forming. After a moment, the brilliant blue locked onto grey. "He is gone, though the affects of his presence still linger."

Gently, Gandalf gripped the young Hobbit's cold hand and felt for a pulse. Then his hand lightly rested over Pip's forehead as he muttered a spell too quiet to hear. Aragorn and Legolas were standing now and everyone held their breath in anticipation, all eyes transfixed on the Hobbit and Wizard. The room had fallen silent. Gently, Gandalf caressed Pippin's cheek with a hand larger than his face. At last, the Hobbit reacted, his once still body now trembling uncontrollably. The Wizard attempted to calm him.

"Look at me," Gandalf ordered softly. Frantic blue eyes focused on the figure looming over him.

"Gandalf... forgive me," the youth gasped. His eyes began to surrender to exhaustion.

"Look at me." The White Wizard's tone was stronger now. "What did you see?"

"A tree... There was a white tree... in a courtyard of stone... It was dead! The city was burning..."

"Minas Tirith? Is that what you saw?"

"I saw... I saw him... I could hear his voice in my head." The young Hobbit was terrified now. Legolas visibly shuddered, knowing better than anyone, even Pippin and Aragorn, what that was like, a voice in your head, but all eyes were still on Pippin and Gandalf.

"And what did you tell him? Speak!"

"He asked me my name, I didn't answer... he hurt me..."

Gandalf leaned in closer, his expression grave and his eyes alight with frightening intensity. "What did you tell him about Frodo and the Ring?" Suddenly, as if he just remembered that they weren't alone, turned and smiled apologetically at the others. "I must ask you to leave. I should have discussed this privately with Pippin."

Aragorn nodded understandingly and stepped towards the door. His legs betrayed him and the Ranger stumbled. Legolas caught his arm.

"You are hurt. Sauron has harmed you," the Elf declared as he guided the future king back outside where they stood before.

"I'm fine," he insisted, greedily inhaling the crisp air. The sunrise lit the stairs to the Golden Hall with a soft, rosy glow.

Wordlessly, Legolas brushed his fingers under Aragorn's nose then held up his red-smeared fingertips. Startled, the Ranger dabbed his own fingers to his nose only for them to come away bloody as well. The knot behind his eyes pounded harder as black spots flashed.

Legolas helped the stunned man sit against the wall. "I shall fetch Gandalf."

"No." Aragorn grabbed the Elf's arm. "I am fine. Pippin needs him. Besides, I think Gandalf will seek me out eventually."

Reluctantly, Legolas relented and sat next to his friend, back pressed against the wall and head tilted back with bright blue eyes closed. Like Aragorn, the Wood-Elf breathed in the cool air deeply.

Aragorn cocked his head at the blond Elf, expressing concern. "Are you all right, mellon nín?"

He nodded as best he could. "Yes, it's just... Ai Elbereth, I did not even hold the Palantir and I still felt Sauron's presence so clearly. He is very powerful."

"Do you still feel him?"

"The darkness in my mind is still fading, if that is what you are wondering. The real question is: do you still feel him?"

Aragorn's head hit the wall gently. Both friends stared into the distance, mulling over what had happened. "No. My head hurts, but I do not feel him in my mind anymore."

"Good."

A comfortable silence fell over the two warriors, interrupted by Gandalf the White. The Wizard's expression was grim. His eyes fell on the Man and Elf. They didn't bother rise for him, and he didn't want them to. He smiled fondly at the weary pair.

"Mithrandir, is Pippin all right?" Legolas asked, staring up at the tall Wizard's face searchingly.

"He is well. I told him to sleep until I summon him. How do you two fare?"

The stubborn youths glanced at each other. Aragron had wiped away the blood, leaving a faint pink stain in his facial hair. Legolas was straightening his posture in an attempt to hide his obvious fatigue and discomfort. Those old tricks couldn't fool Gandalf, who had known both of them since their births.

Kneeling before the Ranger, he slipped the satchel he had brought off his shoulder. Rummaging through it, Gandalf produced two water flasks, which he handed one each to his new patients. They drank obediently as the Istar continued to treat Aragorn. Next, he wet a cloth with what was left of Legolas' water (Aragorn had drunk all of his) and removed any remaining drying blood beneath the Ranger's nose. Then he handed the cold compress to his patient, who pressed it against his forehead to sooth the ache.

Gandalf shifted slightly so now the Elf was before him. Unsure of what exactly he needed to do, Mithrandir rested a hand lightly on Legolas' knee. The Elf felt cold.

"Tell me what ails you so I can help you, penneth. Leave nothing out."

Legolas shifted uncomfortably, hesitant to reveal his weakness. "I feel... cold... and tired. The shadow in my mind is retreating far too slowly. I can still hear his laughter echoing ceaselessly in my head. It aches as well." The Elf groaned softly as pain washed over him afresh and his head fell back again.

Gandalf pulled his long white sleeves back and placed a hand on the suffering Elf's forehead, the tips of his middle finger and thumb pressing his temples. Mithrandir muttered a spell under his breath, casting out the Shadow until the young prince relaxed.

   Legolas sighed in relief. "Hannon le, Mithrandir."

Satisfied with his work, Gandalf rose, supported by his staff. This time, Elf and Ranger scrambled to their feet.

"We must discuss what you saw and heard," the Istar began seriously.

"I didn't see much, but I heard Sauron in my head like Pippin described." Aragorn paused before continuing, "He asked who I was. I did not tell him, but he knew I was a Man."

"That is all?" Gandalf asked with hope in his voice.

The future king of Gondor nodded. "Legolas should tell you the rest. I think Sauron may have identified him."

"He did not recognize me, not as Thranduilion at least. He knows I am a Wood-Elf. He knows Mirkwood is involved in the mission to destroy the Ring."

A heavy sense of dread settled over them.

"He is sending troops to keep the Wood-Elves from aiding us," Legolas continued quietly. "The Woodland Realm does not have a ring of power to protect it." The troubled young Elf gazed off into the distance. "Sauron is more powerful than I first foolishly thought. I did not look into the Palantir and yet I could still hear and sense him, and he could sense me."

"As much as I would value your support in our battle against Sauron, I would not blame you if you decide to aid your people," Aragorn told him.

"Nay, mellon nín. I would be of better help here. My people are warriors, and my father will lead them."

Aragorn nodded, obviously relieved that his friend was staying.

"I apologize for letting you fall, Aragorn. Once he identified me and showed me what he planned to do, I tried to shake the Palantir out of your hands. Apparently, it worked too well."

"There's nothing to forgive. I am grateful for your assistance." He clasped a hand on the Elf's shoulder and smiled.

"Come," Gandalf cut in, starting for the door. "We must report to King Theoden and tell the others the details of what has transpired here. Then we can plan our next move and become one step ahead of the Dark Lord."

Translations:
Sindarin:
Mellon nín - My friend
Mithrandir - 'Grey Pilgrim'; Gandalf's Elvish name
Penneth - Young one
Hannon le - Thank you