Chained, Flung and Speared
By Gwenneth

Disclaimers: They are not mine. This is movie-verse and the dialogue and description from the movie aren't mine either!

Rating: PG

Summary: What-If? Series. Moria: What if that spear missed that mithril coat? Or the rock Aragorn hit was a bit jagged? OR Legolas wasn't fully attentive on that ledge?

Spoilers: The Fellowship of the Ring

"Caves...I truly despise caves."

Aragorn snorted at that. "You live in them, Legolas."

Smack. "No, I don't!" Legolas glared at thesnicker from Gandalf at the head of the Fellowship as they walked through the long darkness that was Moria. Gimli's ears and attention were peaked now and Legolas went on quickly. "We do not live in caves such as this, Aragorn. The palace of Mirkwood is indeed below ground, but in no way dark, dank, moist, hollow and..."

"Hey now!" Gimli growled. "This is the home of my cousin remember!"

Legolas nodded. "Right. Sorry."

"Shush!"

Gandalf had allowed the banter to go on for a few moments, but the Elf and Man were getting too loud now. Moria was dangerous and they could ill afford alerting any of the creatures of the deep to their presence here. The quieter the better. But they had needed a bit of light-hearted talk to ease the gloomy atmosphere.

Legolas smirked at Aragorn, glad that Gandalf had cut off the Ranger's chance for rebuttal. Then, they entered another chamber and slowed to a halt. "How about a little more light?" Gandalf whispered, holding his staff up as the glowing tip illuminated their new location. "Behold, the dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf!"

All eyes were riveted to the towering pillars of stone and the ornate carving. The hall was massive, an ironic thing seeing as it onced housed dwarves. The sheer scale of the city alluded to larger inhabitants. Cave trolls, mountain trolls,anything giant would suffice.

"There's an eye-opener, make no mistake," Sam muttered, eyes wide.

Legolas was silent. He would never admit it aloud, but he was quite impressed by the artistry demonstrated in this dwarven city. His eyes glittered in the light of Gandalf's staff and Aragorn laughed lightly.

But Legolas was unable to respond to the laugh as Gimli suddenly huffed and grunted, running off toward the right wall. There, in the wall, was an opening. Two wooden doors were ajar and beyond was a shaft of light beaming down on a stone slab.

Gandalf and the others hurried after the running dwarf, reaching him after he had fallen to his knees in grief beside the slab, which was fully revealed as the tomb it was. "Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria," Gandalf read. "He is dead then."

Gimli's wails began then and the others remained quiet. Legolas watched as Boromir laid a hand on the dwarf's shoulder. Legolas almost felt like doing likewise, but refrained from any contact fearing it would only anger the dwarf. Dwarves and Elves were not wont to get along, even in sorrow.

Pippin, who was holding Gandalf's staff and hat, was backing slowly towards a well and unaware of the peril he was about to put them in. Aragorn saw the corpse and the armor just as it was about to fall and called out, "No! Pippin!"

But too late. Clang, Clatter, Crash.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf grunted, snatching his belongings away. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!"

Legolas frowned. Pippin didn't mean to be clumsy or troublesome. But it was his nature and his age. Though not a child, he had not traveled from the Shire before and was not wise to the ways of the world. "Fear not, young Hobbit," Legolas whispered, putting a hand on Pippin's shoulder. "You shall one day soon find your worth."

Pippin smiled lightly at that and nodded.

Thrum. Thrum. Thrum.

Drums. Drums in the deep. Everyone froze. Legolas and Aragorn exchanged glances as they both raced to the doorway with Boromir to board it up. In no time, the enemy was upon the doors, pounding and shrieking.

Legolas and Aragorn fitted arrows to their bowstrings and waited. It was only a moment before a goblin had cleaved open the door and stuck its ugly black head in the hole. And only a moment longer before an arrow was protruding from that head and Legolas' bow was reverberating with the shot.

Then, all hell broke loose as the doors gave way with a groan and goblins piled into the room in a large wave of black bodies. The Hobbits were standing behind Gandalf for the moment, but as soon as he was engaged in fighting, with cries of "The Shire" they charged into the fray.

Legolas and Aragorn fired arrows until it was no longer possible to do so, then the man took up his sword and the elf, his knives.

"Let them come!" Gimli was roaring. "There is one dwarf left in Moria who still draws breath!" And with a battle cry he clove a goblin head from its shoulders. But his battle cries were drown out by the cave troll that smashed into the chamber.

All eyes turned on the creature, which chose Sam as its unfortunate prey. The Hobbit managed to scramble underneath the beast and was saved by the chain around the creatures neck as Boromir and Aragorn tugged on it.

Boromir, however, was flung across the room when he failed to release the chain in time and Aragorn, seeing his plight, hurried to save him, flinging his sword at the goblin approaching the dazed man.

Without his weapon, Aragorn was vulnerable and he ducked a blow from a nearby goblin. He was vaguely aware of Legolas fighting beside him call out a warning, but he didn't move in time and felt the sting of an arrow slice across his shoulder. Luckily, it had been ill-aimed.

The man reached Boromir and retrieved his sword without further incident and both hurried toward where Gandalf was battling overwhelming odds. Legolas, on the other hand, had had just about enough of the cave troll and his club.

Leaping up onto a ledge, he ducked a swing of the chain still attached to the troll and smirked. Another swing...and another duck. The third swing was a charm, however, and Legolas slipped on a loose rock, lost his footing and missed the swing.

The chain hit him hard in the side, gouging into his side and making him gasp in pain as he hunched over to the side. But he knew he had to gather himself and he did so quickly, stomping on the chain as it wrapped itself around a pillar. With nimble strides he ran up the chain onto the trolls shoulder and fired point-blank into the creature's head.

No affect but to enrage the troll.

Jumping to the ground, Legolas grumbled at the thick-headed troll. That's never failed before! The Elf thought to himself as he hurried to block a goblin's blade.

But the troll took another interest now, zeroing in on Frodo, who was fighting near Merry and Pippin. The Hobbits did their best to avoid the creature, but as dumb as he were it seemed like an unseen power was guiding the troll and helping it to focus on Frodo.

The Ring! Aragorn thought, fully blaming the predicament on the small object weighing around Frodo's neck. He lunged himself at the troll backing Frodo into a corner, thrusting at it with a three-pronged spear. But the beast was only angered by the points and he flung out his arm, catching Aragorn square in the chest.

Pain blossomed and Aragorn felt himself rise through the air, then slam into the ground. And then he knew no more.

"Aragorn!" Frodo croaked, fear fully taking him now. He backed further from the troll, which had ripped the spear out and was advancing on the small Hobbit. One quick thrust and Frodo cried out. He may have been wearing mithril, but the spear had not been aimed at his chest, rather it hit him in the right shoulder, piercing the arm and sending Frodo into unconsciousness.

Gandalf, Gimli, Legolas, Boromir, Merry, Pippin, Sam and the now-awakened Aragorn stared at the fallen Hobbit in awe, watching, mezmorized as the blood seeped onto the rocks below him. Then Merry and Pippin charged the troll, as did the others.

Legolas stayed back, his side on fire and his arm trembling with the pain as he drew his bow and waited. Waited until the opportune moment. It came when Pippin dug his short sword into the troll's head and the creature flung its head up and howled.

The arrow flew true, right into the roof of the troll's mouth and into its brain. It swayed...moaned...and fell down dead, flinging Pippin to the ground.

They all scrambled, and in Legolas' case painfully, gathered around Frodo, who had not moved since falling. Still in a lot of pain, Aragorn crawled over to Frodo. "No...Frodo..." he whispered, flipping the Hobbit over.

They had little time and they knew it. The lull in battle would not last long. Aragorn pressed on the wound in Frodo's shoulder and the Hobbit jerked away from him. Blue eyes opened and looked up at those assembled groggily. "What hit me?" he asked quietly.

Aragorn chuckled in relief. "A cave troll, dear Frodo. Can you stand?"

Nodding, Frodo hauled himself to his feet. Gandalf steadied a swaying Aragorn, who waved him off. "The blow may have broken some ribs, but there is no time to set them." His attention now focused on everyone else.

They seemingly stared back at him. All but Legolas. The Elf had turned away and was staring at the doorway. Aragorn was not fooled. The hunch in the shoulders, the tinted redness of the back of Legolas' tunic. The Elf was hurt.

"Legolas? Don't you dare hide your injury from me."

Gandalf chuckled. "You best turn around, lad."

They could all hear an audible grumble from the Elf, who obediently turned around revealing a blood-soaked shirt. Aragorn surged forward and the Hobbits gasped. "What happened, mellon nin?" Aragorn said.

Legolas sighed. "The troll's chain. I didn't move fast enough it would seem. I am all right, Aragorn. It bleeds more than it would merit. We must move quickly for I hear the others coming closer each second."

Not happy with the need to move, Aragorn hesitated before straightening and leaving Legolas' wound alone. The Elf let out a shaky breath as quietly as he could. "To the bridge of Khazad-Dum!" Gandalf cried.

And they ran.

Surrounded. Bloody, beaten and tired, they were surrounded by hundreds upon hundreds of goblins fairly foaming at the mouth to destroy and devour them. Legolas was shaking uncontrollably from loss of blood and Frodo was near to fainting. Aragorn could feel poison from his arrow wound beginning to course through his tired body.

Then...a growl from the deep. The goblins screeched in fear and ran, scrambling up the pillars into the darkness. And a red light approached, casting eery shadows on the pillars and walls. "What new devilry is this?" Boromir whispered.

Gandalf didn't answer immediately but when he did it was enough to make Legolas and Aragorn's blood run cold. "It is a Balrog of Morgoth," the old wizard said. "The foe is beyond any of you. Run!"

And again...they ran.

Gandalf. Wise, merry, serious and sad Gandalf had fallen and there was nothing anyone could have done to save him. The weight of his death was crushing and the Hobbits fell to the ground outside Moria in tears. Gimli had to be forcibly restrained from returning and Legolas gazed around with a vacant, sorrowful look, seemingly unaccustomed to death.

Only Frodo was still moving, and Aragorn. The latter urged everyone up and away. "These hills will be swarming by nightfall," he called out.

So...they ran.

Lothlorien. Peaceful, tranquil and mysterious. Golden trees rose up around them and crisp leaves crushed under their feet, echoing in the quiet of the wood. The babbling of a river could be heard not far away and the sounds eased their aching hearts, if not their weary bodies.

Legolas forgot his pain. Forgot his weakening body. Immersed himself in the life of the forest and squashed the horrible weight of Mithrandir's death. Death, though not unknown to him, was still foreign, for it was not meant to touch his people.

"Are you well?"

Aragorn had approached without him noticing, which was in and of itself enough to suggest Legolas was not well. "The woods revive me," he answered cryptically.

"We must stop soon and dress our wounds or I fear we will not make it much farther."

Legolas knew at once the man was speaking of him. "Aye," he said wearily. "That we must. But I ask that you take care of Frodo first, Aragorn."

The man scowled at him but nodded. "All right."

Legolas was about to continue when his hearing picked up something in the trees above. "Aragorn. Do not move." Louder. "No one move!"

The call came not a moment too soon, for Elves suddenly dropped from the trees around them. A blonde warrior came to the forefront. "What have we here? A band on many creatures, including a dwarf. To where are you traveling?"

Aragorn spoke up, answering the elf in the Grey Tongue. "We hoped to seek refuge in the realm of Lothlorien. We have the favor of the Lady."

Haldir stepped closer, then stopped short. "Legolas! Thranduilion! You are injured!"

Legolas was wavering dangerously, suddenly unable to keep his feet. Aragorn grasped his shoulder and steadied him. "Haldir o Lorien, mae govannen," Legolas said quietly. The marchwarden nodded in response to the greeting and beckoned for the others to follow.

"Come, we shall fix you up and then see about this refuge you seek."

And so the Fellowship received care and shelter among the Elves of Lorien in their tree flets until which time Aragorn was able to convince Haldir to take them to the Lord and Lady of the Wood where their journey would continue.

THE END