Chapter One: Closed Spaces
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Author's Notes: Here it is! The (long expected?) first chapter of the sequel to Meeting in the Woods. I hope you enjoy it-this chapter's pretty dull, as I have the plot for every chapter pretty much aside this one in mind. I wrote it fairly hastily, as I'm just taking a break from my fairly frantic studying to write it.
Have any of you seen Donnie Darko? It's a completely barmy film, but it's also brilliant, highly recommended. Sexy Jake Gyllenhall is completely deranged-reminded me of Gollum, hehehehe. See it. Great way to spend an hour and twenty minutes in between showings of The Two Towers.
Notes about the story: These first few chapters are set during FoTR, TTT and RoTK. I've only read RoTK once, and have (unfortunately) not yet memorized the details, so those bits are fairly AU-sorry. This is a movie-based fic, so any resemblance to the films is because…it resembles the films.
*winces* Incredibly short. But couldn't take this chapter anywhere further. Sorry.
Enjoy!
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Soundlessly, leather moccasins glided over the thick snow. The upright figure of snow-flecked elf glanced about, carefully maneuvering himself around the queue of hunched travelers. Without stumbling, he carefully slid around a subtle contour on the un-trodden mountain path.
He stuck his chin out, trying to catch the lofty voice that pounded along with the undeviating snow. Legolas winced, despite himself, as milky snowflakes tangled into softly curled raven lashed, as ice penetrated his sharp eyes. The Prince furrowed his brow, the familiar creases of worry forming over his features.
"There is a fell voice on the air," he observed, tensing against the unfavourable winds. His voice came gruff, louder than usual to not be lost in the whistling wind. The voice continued, a chant, from faraway yet seemingly right there, echoing through the dense mountains.
He barely heard, the wind catching in his ears, impairing him, as Gandalf yelled, buried up to his waist in the uncompressed snow. "It's Saruman!!"
Exchange of harsh words, muffled by snow and worry, came from his companions, but Legolas didn't have the heart to listen. Besides, he was tense, in the back of his heart, knowing something was going wrong. He quirked his head, looking up to the sky, eyes reflecting the magnificent, dangerous sight. From a distance, a bulb of light exploded, forking out, again and again, illuminating the sky, nearly blinding the already impaired elf.
He barely had the presence of mind to retreat from the edge of the mountain, as he numbly saw the lightening crash against the mountaintop. But somehow, the elf managed to throw himself towards the mountain, darting out to snatch the Gray Pilgrim from his dangerous position.
The snow came from nowhere, overwhelmingly thick, clumping around Legolas' form, trapping him underneath. For a fleeting, terrifying moment the world cut out, and all Legolas saw or knew was white, a vast and endless tunnel of white, and all he heard was the muffled cries from the fellowship around-then silence. Was he dead? Was this ethereal pallor death?
The world ripped painfully back into reality, and the distant hum of life around, though stifled by the snow. Without a thought, Legolas pressed forward with his palm, and quickly delved a hole through the snow, pressing forward. He pushed to the surface, clearing snow-tangled flaxen hair from his face with an unsteady jerk of his head, glancing about.
Slowly, the others found their ways to the surface, some with aid that Legolas gave without realising. Aragorn looked worriedly at his friend, noticing the clouds that overtook his eyes, a wispy haze that divided the elf from the tangible world, as if he was in shock. Aragorn knew the elf couldn't think anything more horrible than the claustrophobic walls of that snow closing in around.
~*~
Legolas stared wordlessly at the sharp face of the rock, unmarked as of yet. He glanced over his shoulder towards Aragorn, unable to suppress the bitter sarcasm that laced his voice when he next spoke. "Moria. Brilliant. Just fabulous."
Apparently he was wrong. With the snow, at least, there was life, the thrill of ice against the stolid figure of the elf. It was surprising to the elf to find that he needed some sort of outside feelings, any type of emotion or physical contact, to justify his existence. He knew, in Moria, the rocks wouldn't whisper, they'd only offer their impassive silence. Pokerfaced pebbles, the elf thought, wincing at the potential lunacy in his future, spilled by the speechless rock and the emotionless weather deep under the earth.
"It'll be all right," Aragorn's voice suddenly came, and Legolas looked over at his friend with a knit brow. The man was remarkably perceptive, for a man. Though Legolas knew that this was far from any ordinary bloke, the kind of humans that often lingered on the outskirts of elvish town, the elf was still caught aback by how bloody elvish this man could so often be.
Legolas shook his head dismissively. "I swore an oath to protect the one that bears this ring; I will not let any dwarf burrow lead me astray from this course." He glanced over at the wall, now reflecting a faultless archway. Speak friend, and enter, Legolas thought, but pushed the thought away. It was Gandalf's riddle, and the elf wanted to keep himself as much a shadow as he could.
What seemed like hours later, a voice, softly higher than the familiar one of the wizard's, spoke. Legolas glanced at relief as, at last, Frodo spoke the answer to the riddle. For a terrifying moment, Legolas thought that Gandalf had forgotten elvish-say it, Gandalf, mellon-say it!-and the elf feared he would have to interject, but finally the elder gathered his senses.
"Bloody hell," Legolas couldn't help but murmur running a hand vaguely through his precisely placed flaxen hair, looking at the threatening darkness, the toothless mouth that had opened up now from the outside of Moria. What madness would swallow the elf inside?
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A/N: Pretty bad start, I reckon-boring, movie-verse, no action, really…I just wanted to develop Legolas' emotions about his quest, and particularly about Moria-it will come in handy later. It's a slightly overused thought, the elf being all claustrophobic, I suppose…But I'll try and make this story as original as I can.
Hope you all enjoyed despite! =^^= I'll update as soon as
I can.