I couldn't see what Boromir picked up, his shield was in the way, and I didn't hear what he said to himself softly. But he had frozen, standing there, and I knew it was bad. Somehow, I saw his face in my mind, like I'd seen it. I knew it was bad.
Aragorn made it pretty clear to all of us.
"Give the ring to Frodo, Boromir." Aragorn was tense, suddenly, every muscle in his body ready to move. I saw the hand on his sword, under Boromir's arm, as Boromir slowly traced his way down the slope.
For a second, I thought... for a moment, it looked like he wasn't going to...
And then, he was smiling, rubbing Frodo's head, and trudging back up the mountain with a casual, "I care not."
Boromir met my eyes and I saw it, that darkness back, saw a flash of something in his face as he caught my face. Guilt? He trudged past me, making his way up, and slowly I turned to follow, after meeting Aragorn's eyes.
It was only then, I realised I had my hand on my own sword, and I breathed out slowly. Oh god. This entire thing was crazy. This stupid fucking ring. Nothing should make people get this crazy. I slowly started back up the slope, feet crunching on the snow, letting go of the sword.
I saw a crow, barely fifty metres away, staring right at me. It sent cold chills down my spine, even from that distance, the thing gave me the creeps.
"Isn't that one of those Cremblin things?" I called softly, glancing back at Aragorn, who blinked at me and looked in the direction I pointed. An arrow suddenly ripped towards the thing, Legolas had already taken action, and the crow fell dead off the cliff face.
Black shapes rose suddenly, off the edge of the cliff, shaking off snow. Crows. Covered in snow. Whatever they were, they weren't natural crows, that was for sure. I grabbed for my bow, fumbling, adrenaline bursting through me as Legolas let off several more arrows but... they were already gone by the time I got it out.
Aragorn swore and called up to Gandalf, "We should hurry."
"We will walk through the night." Gandalf called back. "Hurry!"
He hadn't been kidding. Night fell. We kept walking. The stars vanished under clouds. We kept walking. A cold wind started to blow, cutting right though cloth and bone, my teeth chattering within minutes if it blowing.
But Gandalf said walk through the night and that was what we did, stumbling, walking, trying to follow Gandalf's glowing staff through the darkness. Exhaustion wasn't even the word for it. At some point during the night, the hobbits just couldn't walk, they were too cold and too worn out, so Aragorn and Boromir had to pick two up each, carrying them.
Snow started to fall, in the darkness, pretty little flakes that flashed. I almost missed the slope, almost, only to be grabbed by Boromir as I nearly slipped down a slope.
"Careful." He hissed, regetting a grip on Merry, glancing down. "It's not a fall you'd survive."
I stared down as well. He might have been right, I didn't know, it was too dark to see how deep that slope went. Was it a little fall? A cliff? Who knew.
We rested a moment, just half an hour, and I fell asleep against Legolas side without complaint. Why not? Boromir and Aragorn were snuggling hobbits and Gimli was between Gandalf and the poor pony that Sam had insisted on bringing up the mountain. It was just as miserable looking as we felt.
"The sun rises." Gandalf called softly. "We continue."
The sun rose? Really? I couldn't have told- the sky was dark grey, everything was dark, and the snowflakes had gone from being a few pretty ones, to a shower of freezing cold shapes that buried us. I shivered, shutting my eyes, leaning against Legolas warm side again. Even he seemed a little cold. A little.
"Wendy, let us go." He said softly, against my ear, and slowly stood us both up. I gritted my teeth, trying to smile up at Legolas, who returned it easily. Again, he brushed his hand across my face, tucking hair behind my ear. I caught sight of something around his neck briefly, a flash of a necklace, a silver leaf.
It looked familiar somehow.
Legolas glanced down at it, then at me, and tucked it away. He moved away before I could ask, easily across the snow as if he weighed nothing, and I found myself back in line in snow that was now getting to knee height.
We trudged slowly up through the deepening snow and it was a long time before any daylight got through the blizzard. When it did, I nearly had a heart attack, seeing that the 'slope' beside me wasn't a slope. It was a cliff. A sheer cliff that must have had a fall miles deep. Boromir really had saved my life then. Woah. One foot to the left and I'd have fallen.
By then, the snow had started to reach my waist, and everyone was struggling and exhausted. Gandalf and Legolas seemed the only ones who were coping still, Gimli close to me, breathing hard through a piece of fabric. He stared at me.
"Here." He grabbed for something, ripping it, a piece of cloth. "Wrap this around your mouth. You can freeze your lungs up here if you don't protect them."
I did what Gimli had said, finding he was right, it did help. Less cold air got into my lungs. I smiled weakly, seeing his eyes crinkle in return, and he turned to continue up, barely coming over the top of the thick drift of snow.
The mountain shook, or it felt like it, and I tried to stare ahead. Legolas moved past, easily, his hand brushing across my scalp as he moved. Yeah, rub it in.
He froze ahead of us, staring directily into the wind, calling something through the wind to Gandalf. I didn't catch it, but I did hear Gandalf, and felt my heart speed up at the word.
"It's Saruman!"
The mountain really shook now, and I pressed myself against the freezing side of the mountain, Gimli close behind. Rocks fell, suddenly, shaking everything, and the snow... for a moment... almost felt like it was about to fall too. The image of an avolance filled my head and terror flooded me. Oh god.
"He's trying to bring down the mountain! Gandalf, we must turn back!" Aragorn yelled from behind me.
I wanted to agree, I was almost tempted to, but Gandalf beat me to it.
"No!"
Stubborn old man! I gritted my teeth as they chattered, pressing against the side, shutting my eyes in fear as again there was a tremble of the mountain beside me. Gimli's hand found mine, to my amazement, and he squeezed it.
"Courage."
Yeah, right. Gandalf was up, shouting something into the wind. Somehow I knew it wouldn't work. Somehow I knee what was coming. I stared at Legolas, up so high, and fear cut through me. What if he was knocked down?
Pushing past Gimli, I shoved forward, trying to get to Legolas and Gandalf.
"Legolas, Gandalf, get down! He's going to-"
Legolas stared at me, then up, and grabbed Gandalf, just as white engulfed us. Snow, ice, rocks, stones, heavy and threatening to drag us all down, just as I felt Legolas and Gandalf crash into my side, one of Legolas arms grasping onto me. Snow moved, moved for where I was sure the edge was, and we almost moved with it. It tore Legolas sideways, Gandalf another way, and then...
It stopped.
I pushed snow up, off me, gasping for cold air as I stared around. Gandalf was already up, Leglas staring around.
"We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!" Boromir's voice came over the snow, his face anxious, eyes meeting mine. Yeah. I kind of liked his idea.
"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn shut his eyes as more snow rained down, another snower, but this was light, simple.
"If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it. Let us go through the mines of Moria." Gimli called, shifting closer, pushing snow aside.
Gandalf didn't answer for a long time, anxiety building in me as he stood there, concern in his face. Then, softer, he responded, "Let the Ring bearer decide."
Boromir shouted, "We cannot stay here! This will be the death of the Hobbits!"
When I glanced at him, I caught Pippin's wide eyes over the snow, his face drained of blood. Maybe Boromir was right. This was very bad.
"Frodo?"
Frodo, who looked as frozen as Pippin, responded, "We will go through the mines."
The answer freaked me out a little, somehow, but Gandalf nodded.
"So be it. South, to the mines."
Now, we just had to get out again. We turned around, stared at the massive heap of snow, and I groaned softly.
A light body jumped down beside me, Legolas on my side, sliding past to walk in front. Yeah. Easy for him to say. It took half an hour just to dig the poor pony out, then another half hour to somehow manage to get safely away from where the avalange was. Snow kept falling, sometimes rocks, or one of us would find a rock hidden under snow and nearly go tipping over the edge. On top of that, the blizzard kept blowing, and even with a backwind it was difficult to get off the scary slopes once more.
The mountain didn't stop shaking until we were back off the cliff path, well after dark, and all of us collapsed on the safer flatter slope, the hobbits trembling.
"We can't stay here." Gandalf said softly, reaching down to touch Frodo's shoulder beside me, the warm glow from his staff barely doing any good with my frozen body. Pippin was shuddering with cold, smile long gone, staring forward as if he was half unconcious.
"No." Boromir breathed out slowly, head in hands, but his legs shook too. I reached out to touch his arm and he gazed sideways at me, a tired smile emerging, his hand closing over mine to squeeze it. "So we will walk."
I had half hoped he'd say we should rest.
"Not yet." Gandalf sat down slowly, with a soft groan, and moved his staff closer to the middle of the group. The glow increased and the warmth seeped through my soggy clothing enough to offer some relief. "I think we should eat first."
We all ate quietly, using Gandalf's hot staff to unfreeze slices of bread and cheese, while Sam muttered sadly about how he wished he could make a good pot of hot potato and sausage soup to go with the bread.
"When we reach the lower ground, Sam." Aragorn smiled over his warm bread, shutting his eyes.
I took a bite of the bread and felt relief flood me, gooey cheese melting in mouth, knowing exactly why he looked so content. Oh god. There was nothing better than this kind of food after a hard day's work. When I was offered a bowl of something that smelt like tea, it just added to it, and I actually smiled.
Course, at that point, I caught the Elf's eye. Totally by accident. He looked almost surprised to see the smile and mirrored it. I quickly looked away, face reddening, wondering if he'd noticed. Oh god. The last thing we needed was a one way attraction complicating things.
Boromir tossed over another piece of bread, also appearing to cheer up, the warmth of Gandalf's stuff melting the icicles in his slightly greasy hair. Steam was actually rising from all of us. Of course, we'd all have to get wet and frozen again when we left, but … it was a nice change. And when we started back down the slope, all of us were slightly more cheerful, the hobbits with a bit more color on their faces, blizzard or no blizzard. It took hours before the warmth of that simple lunch faded again.
Downhill did have one advantage. While it wasn't easier- it was actually harder, due to the slipperyness of the slope- it was much faster, if only because we sometimes had to half run just to get down the slope without falling flat on our noses. Something I actually did twice. It wasn't a fun thing to do. I wasn't the only one. Even Aragorn skidded at one point, only managing to stay up by doing some kind of surfer arm thing, and he 'surfed' down the hill for at least five metres before collapsing onto his knees. It was a pretty fancy trick but no one really felt interested in trying it, except for Legolas, and he had the feet of a goat up on this mountain.
It did remind me of something though. The idea that snow could be fun. I put it in the back of my mind for later.
The longer we walked, the more I thought it was a good idea. Frodo was openly avoiding being too close to Boromir. Boromir, in reaction, had gone back to his black mood that I'd seen more and more. All four hobbits were frozen once more, despite Gandalf's attempts at keeping them warm with his magic staff thing, their arms wrapped tightly around themselves, feet bright red with cold. Icicles had formed in Aragorn and Boromir's hair, or snow had frozen, or something, and I felt the cold air of the softening blizzard badly in the side of my head where I had lost a whole ear. After a while I had to cover it as well with fabric, it really hurt, and I was sure I was starting to get some kind of infection in there.
When Gandalf finally called for everyone to stop for the night, everyone was in an exhausted black mood, and no one made eye contact with each other. We stood there, huddled, trembling, staring blankly forward as Sam muttered something non-committally about food. Even his enthusiasm for feeding us was gone.
"Not long till we reach the lower ground." Gandalf said softly.
I had to do it.
A while after Gandalf did his magic hot staff trick, when we'd more or less warmed up enough to gain feeling in all limbs again, I grabbed Pippin who had been looking exhausted, depressed and frozen for hours.
"Come on, we've been serious long enough, don't you think?"
Pippin, to be honest, couldn't go an hour without some practical joke. So naturally he agreed. When I grabbed Boromir's shield, before he could stop me, and tried to slide down the slope on my ass, he just stared at me like I'd gone mad.
Pippin and Merry, on the other hand, got the point straight away. They went racing for Boromir's shield, as he ran for it, and rescued it. Still, he was smiling, and I didn't think he really minded if my ass had been on the inside of his shield.
"Quick, Merry, grab that!" Pippin pointed at a jacket he'd been trying to dry, all slippery, but more or less waterproof on the outside. Merry grabbed it.
"What have you taught them?" Boromir stood beside me, shaking his head, laughing softly as Pippin did a flying run at the slope, jacket under him, and did a near-perfect dive onto the snow. He skidded a long way, snow flying around him, some life back in his face.
"Um, something. I can't remember what it's called." Bobsledding? Was that it? I wasn't sure, it didn't seem right. "It's fun. You should try it."
Boromir shook his head, holding up one hand, the other clutching hard to his precious shield. He actually backed up towards the camp as he smiled. "Not since a youth have I ..."
Merry shoved Boromir hard in the ass and he went flying down, shield first, skidding a few metres down a particularly steep slope he'd been walking past. When he stood up, snow was heaped on his head, and his face was redder than it had been earlier.
"It was Wendy!"
Boromir stared at me and I blinked, glancing back at Merry, who had already vanished down the slope with one foot balanced on some kind of frying pan. Sam shouted something, angry, something about how Merry better not dent his frying pan.
"I won't!" Merry yelled, distracted, and a ball of snow hit him hard in the side of the head. It was enough to unbalance him on the frying pan and he fell face first into the deep snow as he lost his balance on the frying pan. "Ow!"
A sudden onslaught of snow hit me in the head, Boromir laughing as he caught me unawares, and when I bent to fling handfuls of the stuff, he had his shield up and ready. Oh man. He was dead.
"Gather it into a ball." Aragorn's voice said, from beside me, as he ducked a well made ball with one arm. He handed me a compacted ball of snow and flung one of his own hard at Boromir. I flung at the same time. Boromir blocked Aragorn, easily, but apparently missed me, because my snowball hit him in the ear.
"Hey, that's not fair! Fight with honour!" Boromir was laughing, scooping up snow, flinging it hard at Aragorn.
"Does everyone intend to eat or-" Gandalf was cut off as Pippin bombarded him with tiny snowballs, which more or less melted on contact with the light of the staff, but Gandalf was tempted. He narrowed his eyes at Pippin, who flinched, and suddenly something was flying at him. Sparks. Flame? "Fool of a Took!"
"I'm sorry, I'm-" One of the fireballs hit Pippin and knocked him clear into the snow. It didn't harm him, clearly, but it had melted the snow and when he got up he was soaking wet. "No magic!"
Another snowball slammed into me, from Boromir, or I'd assumed so. No. It was Legolas, down now with Boromir, apparently a team now.
Aragorn nudged me. "Come on, ignore the hobbits a moment."
A raging snowball fight exploded, between myself and Aragorn and Legolas and Boromir, with the hobbits giving in and taking sides. Even Frodo joined in, laughing and smiling as he flung tiny snowballs from my side, and using Aragorn as a living shield.
It was a relief to see him smiling. Even Gandalf had relaxed, after such a bad time on the mountain, watching us with his staff in hand.
It ended only when it got dark and everyone was too cold to bother. Then we huddled around Gandalf once more, letting his staff dry us, shoulder to shoulder. Aragorn huddled against my side, trembling, hands held out towards the staff. "Twas a good battle."
"Good training too" Boromir still had snow heaped on one head and he shook his head, snow flying everywhere, the smile in his face still crinkling his eyes.
"Who won?"
"I did." Gandalf informed us. "I did not get wet." He glanced at me though, a twinkle in his eye, nodding a small nod. He seemed pleased somehow. That was nice.
I crawled into my roll that night, finding it easier now, easier to sleep, easier to lie down, everything. Realised I hadn't felt blisters for days, my muscles were aching less, and I was sure things were looser.
Legolas rested down beside me, as he seemed to do every night now, sliding one of his legs under the scratchy woollen blanket. He didn't even ask, didn't even speak, it was such a casual thing. I didn't argue. The warmth was like a hot water bottle. I didn't mind in the slightest. And when I slept that night, with one of his legs pressed against my side, I slept better than I had for days.
Gandalf continued to lead us, for days, down the freezing slopes, down the barren hills, and through different forests alongside the Mountains. At least this time it wasn't all uphill, it was a nice mix, and I was sure my body was starting to cope better with all this activity. It really didn't have much choice.
And as we walked, I found myself better and better friends with everyone. It was funny how extreme situations like this just made it ...easy. Aragorn, although he seemed distant at first, was closer now, more friendly, and I noticed he liked to treat me the same way he treated the hobbits- like some kind of father slash brother. Which was fine by me. Gimli was the same.
Boromir, on the other hand, was starting to behave funny everytime I crawled into bed. He'd give Legolas this look, this dark look, and I didn't know what the fuck to make of it. And Legolas, continued to 'sleep' beside me, even though he was sitting from dusk to dawn. It helped me sleep, it made the nightmares less frequent and less powerful, but I still wasn't sure why he kept doing it. It bugged me. I was seriously attracted to him now, even finding msyelf staring at his lips as he sat there, and half of me just wanted to tell him to back off now. It'd be easier.
And he'd started with the 'you're an Elf' thing again. I wasn't sure why. Hadn't the past three weeks of trudging along, like a beached whale, huffing and puffing like the men, while he danced along on his tiptoes as if he didn't feel a single ache or pain from hiking... hadn't that proven to him that I wasn't an Elf?
It frustrated me and worried me. I was confused. One part of me was sure Peter Pan was a story, that I wasn't an Elf, but the other part of me just wasn't quite sure. What if I was an Elf? What if that had really been my story/ How could I be so sure, when I couldn't even be sure of my own name, when I had very little of my own life remembered?
When he'd tell me about things, he'd finger that leaf necklace, eyes distant, like he was seeing something I wasn't.
"The Wall of Moria!" Gimli's soft awed voice cut into my troubled thoughts, as I wandered behind him, and only now did I stare up at the great thing in front of me. Were we going to Moria? Huh. I was confused for a moment. Or was ...it Mordor? That was probably the right now. It was very unlikely we'd get all the way to this Mordor place without being attacked once. They'd made this clear over the past week, more or less dragging me onto my feet for training, even though I just wanted to go straight to sleep.
I stared up now, staring at this great cliff of stone, the tops of it so high that it was lost in cloud and mist. I had to admit. I was impressed. If there was something inside, it was well hidden, and probably a pretty safe place to be. Cool. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all. The evening had started to darken pretty well now, which probably made it more impressive again, and cold of night started to create frost and dampness on the rocks once more.
"Let's find the door." Gandalf moved forward, up the slope, and along a fairly even surface beside the 'wall'.
We walked for some time, as Gandalf and Gimli both tapped the stone, searching for something. I went to ask but Pippin beat me to it.
"What are you looking for? What does the door look like?"
"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Gimli explained, as he knocked the tip of his axe again, leaning against it.
Gandalf called, "Yes, Gimli, their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten."
I heard Legolas say softly from in front of me, "Why doesn't that surprise me?"
Gimli grumbled something beside me, meeting my eyes, and I didn't comment. Those two were still at their weird standoff. I wasn't going to get involved.
"How will we find it then?" Pippin called from behind me. No one answered him.
There was a splash of something, someone's foot hitting water, and I stared sideways to see a pool of inky black water. It was pretty nasty looking and it gave me a VERY bad case of anxiety.
I went to hurry to Gandalf, as he'd made it pretty clear he wanted to know, but he was standing between two trees, extremely distracted. He ran his hands over stone. "Now…let's see. Ithildin — It mirrors only starlight…and moonlight."
I glanced at the clouds at that, seeing only dark shapes twisting over where a moon and stars probably were. At that, the clouds parted, and a full moon emerged from the clouds. Did Gandalf do that? I wasn't sure what he could do anymore. When I looked back to Gandalf, he was now standing in front of a very shiny looking ...something. Not quite the 'door' I'd pictured, I had to admit, but it was impressive.
Somehow I glanced back at the lake and there it was again, the anxiety, warning me. Something was very bad. This was not okay.
The urge to do the Gap of Rohan thing came straight back. Yeah. I didn't like this in the slightest.
Gandalf used his staff to point out words on the door, reading them out, his attention fully on the door now. "It reads- The Doors of Durin - Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter."
Merry moved closer, gazing up at the giant door, asking, "What do you suppose that means?
"Oh, it's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open." Gandalf seemed pretty confidant. I was tempted to go to him, tempted to tell him about the anxiety, but … he seemed too focused. The staff was pushed against the star on the glowing carvings and he announced, "Annon Edhellen, edro hi ammen!"
I had no idea what it meant but it didn't work. The door didn't open. This somehow didn't surprise me and the anxiety continued to build, until my heart was fluttering, eyes fixed on the lake. I felt Legolas' gaze and met it, finding him staring at me like I was behaving weird, or maybe he could hear my heart hammering. Maybe he could smell the anxiety. Maybe Elves and dogs could sense fear. But it wasn't my fault.
I heard Gandalf try again, in that language, and Pippin's light hearted comment.
"Nothing's happening." Pippin observed lightly.
"I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves...Men...and Orcs." Gandalf said softly, frustrated.
"What are you going to do, then?" Pippin's question seemed like a good one to me. Gandalf snapped back though. "Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words."
Ow. Okay. I was not going to inturrupt Gandalf right now. It was just anxiety, after all, and hadn't Legolas seen the giant crow things in time? I just had to remember to breathe and remind myself that everything was probably okay and under control. Yep. I flopped down, breathing in and out slowly.
After all, how long could Gandalf take, before we were in that safe looking cliff, surrounded by friendly dwarfs and hot fires, as Gimili kept boasting about?
Some time passed, Boromir sitting beside me, relaxing back as Sam started to hand out food. I smelt that pipeweed again, heard Aragon say softly to Sam something about the Pony having to go.
A splash made me flinch, Boromir jumping beside me, and he glanced sideways at me.
"What's wrong?" A hand reached out to grasp mine, tentativly, but when I didn't pull away he held it a little tighter. "You have not eaten."
Another splash, and I flinched again, eyes fixed on the water. Somehow, I couldn't eat. Somehow... "I don't know. There's something wrong with that lake." It had to be that. Everything about that fucking lake made me want to run for the Gap of Rohan, Fellowship or no Fellowship.
And the hobbits were throwing stuff at it. Great. I turned to tell them to stop, Aragorn beating me to it, but...
I heard a splash. And I knew no one had thrown anything.
Oh god.
"Eat." Boromir squeezed my hand, standing, but concern was on his face. He stood up.
I stood up as well, staring back at the water. I saw it move. Something was in there. Something massive. Fear started to grow in the pit of my stomach and I backed up, swallowing, unsure. Legolas startled me as his hand rested on my shoulder.
"There is nothing to fear."
Sure. Uh huh.
"It's a riddle!" I heard Frodo's voice pipe up. "Speak friend and enter. What's the elven word for friend?"
"Mellon." I said, without thinking, hearing Gandalf say it a fraction of a second later. I ignored Legolas, the others, ignored Gandalf's surprised look back at me. What? I just wanted to go inside and meet awesome dwarfs. This lake was giving me the major … was that a tentacle?
I nearly pushed past Gandalf, sa he walked in slowly, right on his tail. I'd hoped I'd feel better in here.
Not really, no. In fact, I felt worse, and I turned, nearly bumping into Boromir. His hand found mine again, which was nice, but I only really felt okay when my free hand found the end of my sword and grasped it. Hard.
Gimli was boasting once again, more cheerful than I had seen him for some time, his head held high as he walked past me. "Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves! Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone. This, my friend, is the home of my cousin, Balin."
He didn't see, as Gandalf lit the chamber up, didn't see the rotting corpses. Didn't smelt the smell of decay, blood death, so caught up in the mood he was in. I saw it. I headed for the door, yanking my hand free of Boromir.
"And they call it a mine. A mine!"
Boromir's hand grasped my arm, tugging me back again, as he stared around. "This is no mine, it's a tomb!" He pushed me behind him, sudden, eyes narrowed. It was nice of him but it wasn't enough. I wanted to get the fuck out of there.
Gimli's heartbreaking yell froze me though. Oh god. How would I feel if I found a family's home like this? I stepped towards, him, or meant to, but Boromir's grip on my arm didn't waver.
I saw Legolas dart forward, quickly, and knew what he was going to say. I said it softly as he said it out loud, dread filling me, knowing this. I knew this. I knew what was going to happen.
"Goblins!"
I heard the ring of swords, saw Legolas back up, Boromir finally releasing my arm as he called, "We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here."
I turned, turned towards the hobbits, knowing what I'd see before I saw it. For the first time, the first real time, I felt it. Felt that this was a dangerous quest, that it was deadly, that there was a good chance I wouldn't survive. That none of us would. But …
Tentacles heading for Frodo.
I opened my mouth to call.
Boromir's call cut over mine. "Now get out of here, get out!"
"Frodo!" I tried, voice cracking, but it was too late. The thing had him. The hobbits turned, shouting in horror, as Frodo was dragged out the door again. Towards the lake.
I heard his strangled call, somewhat, frozen, fear as I saw what it was that had him. It was only when Aragorn pushed past me that I realised I had a sword in my hand and I was supposed to be helping here. I rushed after him, not even sure what the hell I was supposed to do, Boromir just inches behind me. Hack at tentacles? Good idea, Aragorn.
With a splash, I entered the water, nearly tripping over slippery pebbles unseen under foot. Sword in hand, I slashed, hacked, not so much caring about technique, except to somehow keep those tentacles away from me as I tried to ...what? I wasn't sure. The smell of something, blood, filled my nostrils as I hacked, water suddenly warm with the creature's blood, soaking to my legs with it. Saw it groan, a terrible cry that chilled me, but it was Frodo's terror that kept me moving. The poor little guy, and the giant mouth and... an arrow flew straight into it. Good old Leggy, right behind us, could always count on him.
He fell. Into my arms. Boromor shoved me back out of the water, hand on my back, and I ran for my life, knowing, feeling, aware that I was just inches from being mauled by tentacles, from being dragged into that mouth, aware that it was giving chase. Of me. Holding Frodo.
"Legolas!" Boromir shouted, as we rushed past, his hand somehow keeping me upright.
"Into the cave!" Aragorn's shout came. I felt that urgency to NOT go into the cave, but with Frodo in my arms, his arms clutching hard to me like his life depended on it, I was in no place to argue. Aragorn shouted, "Run!" and I ran for both our lives, slipping up the rocks, back into the dark cave where I hadn't wanted to be in the first place.
I heard it, heard it tearing at stone with amazing strength, felt the cliff itself collapse around us, dust rising into the air and filling my lungs.
And then it was suddenly dark, Frodo's panicked breathing in my ears, my own mingling with it, his arms holding on tight, his small body literally shaking as he clung on like some child.
Panting and heavy breathing echoed around the blackness, for some time, before Gandalf's voice came through the darkness. "We now have but one choice."
I lowered Frodo down carefully as light gently started to fill the inkiness, Gandalf's staff glowing, Frodo's face white as he stood there. "We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than Orcs, in the deep places of the world."
No room for argument, I thought as I stared back at the mess that was once a door. We had to go. I bit my lip, fear and anxiety returning, knowing this was not the best idea. But it was all we had. So I turned and followed the others up the steps, trying to avoid stepping on the half rotted corpses around us, heart in throat.
Gandalf's voice echoed down softly. "Quietly now. It's a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed."
And so, once more, we walked. No one really spoke, no one dared to speak more than they needed to, but I saw Boromir and Aragorn carefully making sure their swords were ready to be drawn. After hours of walking, when we had a break, I made Aragorn show me how to do it too. We moved aside, into a space where less sound would carry.
"That was brave of you." He said, softly, as he reached for my sword. "To go for Frodo."
"Was it?" I wasn't sure it was, to be honest. "I mean, everyone did."
"True." Aragorn agreed with a small smile. "If you keep your sword like this-" He did something with it, tugging it out a fraction, "-it will not stick."
"You should be more careful." Boromir scolded softly. "You are smaller. Slower. It may have-"
"She is faster than you." Legolas responded. He moved to my other side, a hand coming down onto my shoulder. "It was well done."
I smiled weakly. Honestly, it wasn't that special, everyone had rushed to help Frodo. But I didn't argue. I let Legolas check a cut I'd got from falling rock, Aragorn moving to sit with Frodo and check him, too anxious to really care much about arguing right now.
"Are you all right?" Legolas said softly, as he pressed something against a cut on my head, and I felt something wet. Water? When I reached up, he grasped my hand, pushing it back down. "I am cleaning it. The blood of that creature may be dangerous."
Oh, okay. I gazed up at him as he dabbed carefully at the wound, his eyes on my scalp, feeling hotter by the second. Legolas was just inches away. His lips caught my attention, as they always did, lips that...
Met mine, so carefully, like he was ready to back off if I ordered. My eyes shut, as his body pressed against mine, pinning me between the rock and his body. A rock and a hard place? But it wasn't lustful, not like it had been the first time, it was just sweet, long, a kiss that made my legs melt under me. I felt one of his arms come to rest around my waist. The other hand had frozen on my head.
When we parted, Legolas had that hint of a smile in his eyes, and he gazed back up to the scalp and returned to cleaning.
Truth was, I didn't know what to make of that, except that kiss had been incredible. Fingers traced against my scalp, slowly, and... over the side of my head where the ear had vanished.
It brought me back to reality with a crash. Legolas thought I was an Elf. I frowned, shifting sideways, ignoring his surprise. Hadn't he made out with me in Rivendell, offering the same point, that Elves were like this? Interested in fun?
"Sorry. I guess I don't ...like casual stuff." I muttered, cheeks reddening as I caught Boromir's stare, darting away. Legolas didn't chase me. Phew.
Boromir did. He followed, as I slid past, followed me out into the larger passage between the quiet nook and the campsite itself. When I was closer to the camp, he grasped my arm, sudden, yanking me and shoving me back against a wall.
"Have you no shame?" He hissed against my ear.
It was surprisingly violent and when I stared up, blinking, I saw why. That darkness was there. "It was just a-"
Lips crashed down on my own, harder, and the heavy hard body of Boromir pushed me up. This wasn't like the other, it was almost pure sexual, tongue in my mouth, one of his legs pushing up between my legs and grinding against that space that was most sensitive to touch. But it was over before I could react, like knee him in the balls or something, and ...I felt it. My own body reacting despite itself. How couldn't it?
Still, this was not okay. Legolas was … and I was not okay with this. I shoved at him, only for my wrists to be caught and pinned above my head, Boromir's teeth nipping my neck.
"Boromir, stop it!" I hissed softly, struggling, flinching as one of his hands slid up the front of the tunic, over bare stomach.
"Are Elves all you desire? Are Men, your own people, not good enough?" He nipped hard enough to bruise, I yelped, as the hand shoved itself down the leggings. Oh god. Boromir was loosing it. He shoved one hand between my legs, ignoring my struggles, but I managed to more or less keep his hand away from whatever the fuck he was searching for, simply by struggling. "Forget the Elves. Love me. Love my brother. I would give you to my brother, I would only accept you..."
I really thrashed, as he fought harder, all arousal gone. Was he fucking crazy? He just made it sound like he'd hope I'd marry his brother, and yet here he was, trying to grope me. "Boromir, I said no. Let me go." Somehow, I managed to knee him hard in the groin. At the same time, a frying pan hit Boromir in the back of the head, and he collapsed. I grasped the hand and yanked it out, anger and disgust, and fear, fear that I couldn't remember before. Had he meant to rape me or something? I didn't know.
"Wendy?" Pippin's voice, his hand, and I blinked at him as he stared down at Boromir. "Did he do anything?"
"N... no. No." I muttered, cheeks red, staring up. Legolas was there too, arms crossed, giving Boromir a look of such distain... god. "No. I think he was just a bit... I don't think he was himself." Mad?
"Pippin beat us to it." Aragorn, who I hadn't noticed, strode forward and yanked Boromir onto his back by the scruff of his neck. Boromir was out of it. Aragorn frowned, glanced up at me, and reached out to put a hand on my arm. "I am sorry, we did not notice faster."
"It's nothing, really." I kept my eyes down, avoiding their eyes. I still liked Boromir. I still wanted to trust him. This made no sense. But then, in a strange way, it did. No matter where Frodo and that ring was, no matter how far, that thing ...it toyed with us. It triggered things. And Boromir was the worst affected. "A misunderstanding. That's all. I really don't think he... I don't blame him."
I blamed that darkness that was creeping into him. Over the past three weeks I'd seen traces of that, more and more, but I'd seen the real Boromir too. The laughing, smiling, honourable man, who probably would have cut his hand off before he violated any part of any woman. Oh sure, he'd been a bit rude drunk, but …
I could still feel where his hand had pressed against my body, still feel shame burning in me, and tried to not look at Legolas. He had his bow in his hand. Had he intended on hurting him? Still, a frying pan wasn't a soft thing. Pippin was still staring at Bormor.
"Let us hope that has knocked sense back into him." Aragorn bent down to pick up the frying pan, lightly, and handed it back to Pippin. "Were there more water here, I would dunk his head in it. Legolas, can you watch him until he wakes, ensure he is safe?"
Legolas frowned a little more, eyes flashing to me, but he nodded. "I can."
"Come. Let us eat and rest."
I let Aragorn lead me back to the camp, his hand on my back, legs weak. Both he and Pippin sat on either side of me, which was a relief, because I didn't need Legolas adding to this tension. Boromir returned mid-meal, his eyes down, avoiding me. Legolas wasn't far behind him.
Boromir did not mention it, he didn't apologise, he didn't do anything. He behaved as if nothing had happened, smiling, joking, but I could see something else there in his face now. Not just guilt, but tension, even jealousy, particularly when I walked too close to Legolas or Aragorn. So I walked close to Pippin. He may have acted like a child but he was a grown man, technically, and had no illusions about what might have happened.
The tension growing in the Fellowship, we made our way slowly through Moria, through cave, mines, under mountain roads. It was stunning to think dwarves had done this. Sometimes I managed to forget the tension, forget Legolas' kiss, or the repell of Frodo and the thing he carried, managed to really see the beauty of the carvings in stone or the sheer scale of some of the caves they'd mined out.
One cave, this amazing vertical cliff, towered overhead, lined with silvery veins. I gazed around, amazed, as Gandalf stopped a moment.
"The wealth of Moria was not in gold...or jewels..." He moved his staff towards the gaping hole and the glow increased, brighter. The entire pit, above and below, suddenly lit up in silvery glow as the veins caught the light of his staff. I stared in awe while Gandalf continued. "... but Mithril."
Mithril. Hard as dragon scales. Light as a feather. Or something like that. I saw Frodo, suddenly, saw him and his ...uncle? Bilbo? Saw the entire scene, Frodo receiving a vest, Bilbo's reaction to the ring.
"Bilbo had a shirt of Mithril rings that Thorin gave him." Gandalf was saying, as I stood there, his staff back to normal.
Gimli, from behind, responded, "Oh, that was a kingly gift."
Gandalf sounded light hearted as he responded, "Yes! I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire."
Dread crept into my stomach at that. Dread and loathing. The more I saw of this ring, the more I saw how people reacted to it, the less I liked it. The less I liked how it MADE me want it. Nothing should be desired that much. Nothing.
"Wendy?" Aragorn said softly, hand on my shoulder.
I moved forward again, following after the others, keeping eyes away from Frodo once more.
It wasn't far from there when we reached another amazing pit, a great tomb, and then great chambers. It was slowly changing from mines and caves, to city, more carvings in the walls, more intricate roads, and yet Gimli didn't say a word. He walked slowly on, eyes down, sombre. It must have been hard for him to see the city dead like this. I wondered how it'd look when it was alive with dwarfs, with fire, with laughter and song. How would I have felt if I'd walked through London, only to find it crumbling, the corpses of my people everywhere? To feel like we were a dying race?
I reached out to touch his shoulder at one point, as we crossed through what might have been a marketplace, and briefly he held my hand hard, inhaling slowly.
It was on the third day that we came to a crossroads, three openings, at the end of a very tall and very exhausting staircase. Or it was once. Now it was crumbling so bad that we all except, naturally, for Legolas, had to climb up it on our hands and feet, avoiding skulls, cobwebs and rubble. I knew Gimli was having a hard time like this. Not crawling- it wasn't so bad- but … seeing each skull, and wondering, wondering if it was someone he'd known. Someone he'd liked. Admired. Just someone he'd heard of.
I moved to stand near him as Gandalf froze at the top of the stairs, just to be comforting, avoiding Boromir's gaze as he walked past. I couldn't look at him right now. I didn't blame him... but I couldn't look at him either.
Gandalf's voice, soft, drifted down to us in the heavy still of the mine. "I have no memory of this place."
It baffled Gandalf then? Oh boy. That couldn't have been a good sign.
Aragorn got a fire going, as Boromir sat down heavily, his eyes distant. Aragorn, I noticed, was quick to sit beside him, and Legolas took about two seconds before he was standing behind Aragorn, facing Boromir, bow in arms. But maybe he was keeping guard. His eyes were on the darkness the staircase went back down into, not on Boromir.
Maybe not. I didn't know.
I sat down beside Aragorn, trying to relax. I couldn't face either of them right now. This was exactly why I hadn't wanted him to know about the attraction. The tension in the air wasn't much fun. This only released a little when Merry got his pipe out again and filled the air with smoke.
I gazed down and stared into the blackness too. There, for a moment, I thought I saw something. The reflection of eyes, maybe? A bat?
Or was it Gollum?
Gollem? A man, a little hobbit thing, with a worm. That was the only image my brain gave me with that name. It didn't make any sense. Did some hobbits have eyes that glowed? I'd have to ask Gandalf. Either way, Legolas either didn't notice or act concerned, because I heard no snap of the bow, heard no arrow whistle past, and the eyes were gone as fast as they'd been seen.
I reached for my own bow, just to touch it, tracing my hands along the edge slowly. It was beautiful, curved, and very simple. That suited me. Nothing in this world, nothing, felt as familiar to me as this bow in my hands. It was like I'd spent all my life touching them.
But I had.
I blinked as, for the first time, I really remembered something about myself. Yes, I had always been overweight, but I had also been a champion archer. I remembered metals, awards, competitions. My larger body had provided me with increased physical strength as a child and, from the moment I'd tried archery at school, I'd been already better than the others. So they'd encouraged me. They had hoped it'd build up my self-esteem, I'd been bullied for being fat at school quite a lot, and it did outside school. Outside school, I was respected. Inside school it was just another reason for the kids to make fun of me.
They did right into high school as well. But they stopped when I'd gone to the Olympics.
Woah.
I remembered. Going to China. The youngest female archer from Australia, going to the Olympics. I hadn't won anything but it had been one hell of a introduction to pro-archery. I'd gotten more attention than half the Australian swimmers.
"Wenduin?" Legolas said softly. "We're leaving."
I blinked up at him, standing, seeing the others already ready. My head was spinning with this, with China, with the Olympics, being bullied at school for being overweight and an archer, and I felt dazed. Nothing else came, not my name, not my family, nothing, but that did.
"Are you all right?"
I was trembling, I realised, and I nodded blankly. I followed behind him slowly, sliding the bow back. This was why London kept sticking in my head. I knew I was supposed to be going to London. Olympics. London. Were they in London now? I wasn't sure, it was confused, I was confused. I knew somehow that I'd been pretty bad in all other things, clumsy, unfit, I wasn't the best at school. I knew they would suggest that I was only pretending to be good. Or, when I was older, that I'd trade sexual favours for wins. They liked to draw comics about that. Anime style.
I bumped into Legolas, unaware he'd stopped, blinking again.
"Tell me what's on your mind." Legolas didn't move away, not to his usual spot behind Gandalf, and I breathed out. Told him. He listened quietly while his eyes stayed fixed on the darkness ahead, not speaking until I'd stopped rambling, and then finally, he glanced at me with that same expression he always got when he was about to suggest I was an elf and I'd forgotten. "I see. I am not surprised."
I wanted to shove him and remind him I wasn't an Elf. But there wasn't really time and he was already moving away, ahead. I hadn't told him about the bullying. It hurt all over again, as if I was experincing it for the first time, and I felt that familiar self-loathing return. They were less interested in me if I wasn't interested in myself. They didn't have a bubble to pop then.
I bumped into someone again, Aragorn this time, and he turned to place a hand on my shoulder.
"What?" I tried to see what it was past him. Why had everyone stopped again?
Aragorn went to open his mouth to answer, but before he did, Gandalf cut him off.
"efore long the Fellowship comes to a more open space. Broken ornate columns lie tumbled across the floor. Gandalf uplifts his staff.
"Let me risk a little more light."
Gandalf's staff glowed brigher, bit by bit, and great pillars started to come into view.
It was incredible. I had never seen such a massive place. Geninune awe filled me as I stared up, stared at near perfect pillars, with ornate and detailed carvings on each. They were old, very old, crumbling in places, but ...not as much as the rest of Moria.
"Behold: the great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf "
"Incredible." I said softly.
This made Gimli's mood perk up, as he moved to stand beside me, and we started walking again. As we walked, he pointed at carvings, explaining them softly to me in his awed tone. I suddenly had more respect for the dwarfs than I ever had. They weren't just miners. They were artists. Artists that took the very bones and blood of the earth and created homes, art, beauty... it was incredible.
"Gimli, have you done htings like this?"
He actually flushed under that beard bright enough for me to notice and nodded, lifting his axe. "I have. This was crafted for me by my father."
I saw on the axe, more than just a weapon, so much more. More intricate carvings, words, and … love. This weapon had been made for him, by his father, to protect him. Wow. "That is a wonderful gift."
"All dwarfs receive their first axe from their fathers." Gimli's eyes went back to the great cavern as we made our way slowly through it. "But we have not created something such as this for many years."
We walked quietly, side by side, before Gimli moved to walk in front of me again. The place was massive, and we walked for an hour between these stone pillars, though it felt like a lot less time. I was fasinated. Even Legolas seemed to be distracted from watching the dark, his eyes grazing over each pillar as it passed, and his usual cold attitude towards Gimi had faded somewhat.
Gimli's cry of pain made me flinch, as he suddenly ran sideways, heading for where a patch of sunlight hit the stone.
"Gimli, no!" Gandalf shouted.
This time, I saw the future again. Orcs. Cave troll. Fighting. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of orcs. Flashes of it, it wasn't complete like some things I saw, but it was enough to make me want to piss myself. I saw it all and my heart sank as I grasped for the sword.
Gandalf was already too far away to tell. I rushed after them, glancing behind me, knowing exactly what was out there.
This was going to be a fucking disaster.
I followed in after the hobbits, more or less, with Aragorn and Boromir behind me. There was a cry of pain that made my heart twist in pain for him. After three days of walking past corpses of his own race, through a city that must have once been incredible, and three days of hoping that this one last dwarf still survived...
I finally saw him let the grief show. I had my hand on his shoulder, without thinking, and to my surprise, Boromir was there a second later with the other shoulder. Our eyes met over Gimli, before he dropped his gaze, guilt in his face.
He was trying to comfort Gimli though. There it was, that side of him that I did like, that side that was now tearing itself to shreads over the darker nature. Some part of my anger that remained now gave up, I couldn't be angry at him, because I knew what was fucking with his head. It was fucking with mine too.
"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria." He is dead then. It's as I feared. " Gandalf's hand was brushing over the runes in the stone. This did not help Gimli much, and I grasped his shoulder tighter, squeezing it as he banged his helm against the stone.
Heavy deja vu was starting to crash down on me. I glanced at Gandalf but he was reaching for a book in the hands of a dusty corpse.
Beside me, Gimli was moaning softly with pain, openly weeping as something was spoken. I didn't understand it but I understood the pain in it. "Kilmin malur ni zaram kalil ra narag. Kheled-zâram ... Balin tazlifi..."
I remembered what had made me so anxious about this, suddenly, and glanced back at Legoalas. Come on, magic elf, read my thoughts. I opened my mouth but he either had already been thinking it, or was a real magic elf, and knew it was time to get out.
"We must move on." His eyes met mine and the tension in his face increased as he met Aragorn's face again. "We cannot linger."
Aragorn met my eyes as well and I gritted my teeth, staring past him at the open door, my hand still on the freed sword. Then I changed my mind and went for the bow. I'd have, what, twenty seconds of shooting arrows? Better make sure I could use this skill I apparently had because I knew I was pretty pathetic when it came to a sword.
"They have taken the bridge and the second hall..." Gandalf's voice echoed softly though the chamber, sending chills down my head, quietening Gimli. He was holding the book as he said, "We have barred the gates... but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes."
Oh yeah. It was time to run. I opened my mouth to say this but nothing came out. Fear was starting to creep back in, my mouth was dry, I couldn't make a sound. I could only see those orc things, the troll, and something much worse.
"Drums. Drums... in the deep." Gandalf continued, quietly, and even he seemed to have some hesitation. Maybe he knew we should be running? Probably. The page was turned, the sound frightningly loud in the quiet of this tomb, and I stared at the page, seeing the still red blood stained into the paper with the ink. "We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark."
The fear was building, and it wasn't just me. Nearby, Merry was shifting closer to Gandalf, Frodo and Sam's faces white. We'd all spent the past three weeks shooting arrows at crows, wandering, swimming, laughing, telling stories. It had almost seemed like there was no danger at all.
Now, suddenly, I was sure we were all picturing it. Being trapped in this room. The wooden door barred, the sound of drums shaking the stone, shaking the earth. Knowing that just through that fragile door was death, and there was no way out, there was no way to escape. Knowing we'd die here, die a terrible death, knowing that everyone we loved had been slaughtered...
"We cannot get out..." The desperation in the words just added to it. Pleading. Their last words, written down, pleading to anything. Anyone. Maybe they knew that they would not survive, maybe they hoped one day someone would find this book, and know... and remember them. Know it was the last thing they had.
There was a sudden crash behind us, all of us whipping around, and I saw Pippin standing there white faced as something crashed down behind him. A corpse. Falling down a well, or something. There was sound, so much fucking sound, echoing around the tomb, down the well, and ...deeper, god knew how deep into mines, into rocks, probably knocking other things down as it went. The noise made me want to pee myself with fright, seriously, just for the brief comforting warmth.
Oh man, why hadn't I said no in Rivendell?
It felt like an hour before the noise stopped, though it was probably just a minute or two at the most, and even Gandalf's face had drained of blood. Yeah. If he was nervous then we probably had good reason to be angry at Pippin right now.
Boromir breathed out, and for a moment, I felt his hand close on my arm, holding it. Comforting me? But it was gone as fast as it was there and I tried to breathe too.
"Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" Gandalf snatched the big felt hat and staff out of Pippin's hands. He looked just about angry enough to do just that, Pippin sliding away a few inches. We breathed out, almost all of us at once, relieved.
Okay. That could have been worse.
Drums.
I nearly yelped as a sudden two BOOM, BOOM, echoed around the mines, around the tomb, literally shaking the tomb so hard that dust fell, gravel under our feet bounced.
We all stared at the well.
BOOM.
I backed up at that, Gimli quickly getting to his feet, hand back on sword, heart thudding hard in my throat.
BOOM.
This must have been how the Orcs wanted to scare us to dea-
BOOM.
Boom, boom...
Then, suddenly, it was going, this steady rhythm. Frodo was glowing blue around his belt, and Legolas hissed, "Orcs!"
There was this sudden sound of calling outside, some kind of ...I didn't know what to call it, it sounded unearthly with the echos of the great city, with the drums, and Boromir reacted first. He rushed at the door. Arrows barely missed his face.
Aragorn rushed forward too, Legolas with his bow out, and I grabbed for mine. Arrows? Check. Bow? Check. Adrenaline?
"Protect Frodo." Legolas said softly, just loud enough for me to hear over the drums, and I nodded. Yep. That was the main thing.
I glanced back at the hobbits, seeing their terror filled faces, their swords in hand, these tiny three foot beings that really had no chance against what I'd seen. The urge to protect them overwhelmed the fear, just the look in poor Pippin's face, or how Sam was trying to keep Frodo behind him. If they could be brave, so could I.
"Understood."
"They have a cave troll." I heard Boromir say dryly. Yeah. I should have mentioned that. I gritted my teeth, watching as Legolas tossed weapons to Aragorn and Boromir, the two of them trying to bar the door.
A loud yell from behind me made me jump, Gimli shouting, his axe held so hard in his hand that his knuckles were white. "Let them come! There is one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"
There was a sudden pounding on the door, and I stared back, grasping for an arrow. Okay. This was it. Like always, as soon as I had the bow in place, the arrow in hand, it felt natural. Easy. Familiar. Fear was dancing around in the back of my head, my hand and arm were shaking, and the second I saw a hole, I let an arrow fly through the door into whatever the hell was trying to come in. Legolas was doing the same thing, I noticed, Aragorn on my other side, all three of us doing our best to ...wound them?
The door flew open suddenly, knocked off the hinges, the metal weapons used to block it going flying. Creatures flooded in, creatures like I'd seen, but even the vision hadn't been enough to prepare me for this. I let an arrow head for one, my nostrils filled with this stench I couldn't place, but seconds later they were just there, swinging some metal thing at me. Some sword connected with it, between my face and this massive weapon, and I saw to my shock that it was my sword.
They were strong though, and I tried to remember the training, to use their strength against them. Hadn't that been what Boromir had said? Protect Frodo, let their strength be their pr-
I cut it down, literally, the blade sinking through the orc's muscle, a spray of black blood spreading over arm, over ground, stinking hot blood that sent bile into the back of my throat. There was no time to be sick. There were too many. I knew I was backing up, as this wave of creatures headed straight for me, waving the sword, trying to breathe. Trying to be quick, instead of strong, like I'd been told. I hadn't been abandoned, not exactly, I saw glimpses of the others, but it was Frodo we were protecting. So I did my best, panting, sweat already pouring down, the bile burning my throat, using the blade to cut, to slash, a lot of blocking.
I didn't always defend myself that well though, I knew I was getting hurt, I could feel sharp pains here and there. It wasn't just that- their faces, they were... monsters. They weren't real, they couldn't be, could they?
Orc, cut, orc, slash, sword getting caught in their crude metal armor, some pain in my arm. I was sure I saw red, briefly catching a glimpse of Sam hitting an orc in the face with his precious frying pan, which gave me a brief moment of something that might have been amusement in a less deadly situation.
Legolas shoved me sideways, the sudden motion shocking me, but it saved my life, because where my neck had been, there was now a blade swinging, and an orc with an arrow right through one eye.
No time to thank him though. There was a crash from the front and something worse than orcs crashed in. A cave troll. Half the orcs had vanished suddenly, out the door, like they were just as afraid of this fucking thing as I was. I gaped at it for a precious second, this thing grey like the stone, with a squashed mess that might have been a face, this massive thing twice the height of Aragorn, thick, and some flimsy loincloth. Legolas, beside me, had already aimed, and I grabbed for the bow I'd slung over my back, doing the same. Yeah. Smart.
There was a shake of the ground, the troll slamming the crude thing in its hand into where Sam had been just a moment before, and I rushed forward to where Sam had ended up, trying to keep Orcs from cutting him into ribbons before he got to his feet, or being squashed by the troll. Or that was the idea. Something hit me, it felt like a bus, and I was slammed sideways into a wall.
When I glanced up, head spinning, the Orc's chain was being pulled on, with the limbs flailing. Somehow I climbed up, shaking my head, Sam climbing to his feet a few metres away. Our eyes met, before he headed straight for me, and I tried to do the sword thing once more, sliding the bow safely back over one shoulder. There were less orcs now, sort of, but they were braver. Nastier. Sadistic, because when one sliced me, there was this grin on its face, that chilled me to the bone.
I saw Boromir fly past me, into the wall, and headed for him, Sam vanishing for Gandalf once more. He lay there very still for a few seconds, as I tried to fight my way in his direction, but the orcs weren't helping. Did they care I was a woman? Was there was five of the stupid things heading for me? One of them had noticed Boromir though, as he, shaking his head, looking gazed. These nasty fucking things were going for the weak.
I didn't get to Boromir in time to protect him from the orc, I was too far away, but the orc stiffened suddenly. There was a sword in the neck, as it collapsed in front of Boromir, and Aragorn nodded to Boromir, before turning to charge at orcs.
I grasped Boromir, trying to drag him up, and he stood up groggily, blood trickling down his forehead. Then, suddenly, I was pushed behind him, and he was trying to take on the whole fucking pack of orcs by himself, apparently protecting me. Okay.
"Frodo!" I hissed softly, trying to get past, only to get shoved back.
"I will not let you get injured here, not after..." He swung the sword, hard, so hard that he didn't just behead one, he cut deep into the arm as well
There was an explosion of rock, suddenly, as the troll went for Gimli on the tomb. The tomb was destroyed, Gimli rolling safely to one side, but I saw no body come out... nothing. Empty tomb?
Boromir grabbed me and shoved me back into a corner, blocking me competely from exiting, but blocking anything from reaching me. . "I am responsible for your-" He swung the sword hard again, hissing in pain as something struck his side, "-safety."
Since when? I slammed the blade into one orc, under his arm, as t nearly got him. This was stupid. "Their safety! Remember?" To his surprise, I forced his head in the direction of the hobbits, hiding in the other corner.
Boromir hesitated. It gave me enough time to slip under his arm, sword out, swinging it. Screw training. Sharp bit goes into scary monsters. I got it. I thought I did, anyway, only to get a nasty cut across the hand, and to get dragged hard behind Boromir again. Legolas, I noticed, was playing with the troll now, on the head, and I felt my heart leap into my throat again as he nearly got tipped off. But of course, magic Elf legs Legolas was fine, leaping down easily. He was heading for us.
The troll, I realised, was heading for Frodo. Aragorn had noticed too.
"Frodo!"
Okay, this was bad. They shouldn't have been protecitng me. I was screwing this up.
"Legolas!" I pointed behind him, trying to shove Boromir forward so I could get out of this stupid corner he'd shoved me into, and Legoals turned, staring. It was too far away for him, even with his magical elf skills, with Aragorn the only one who could really reach the three hobbits.
I tried to wriggle out anyway, tried to get back to sword fighting or whatever, but Boromir, who was like some bloody rock, glanced over his shoulder at me. He actually looked annoyed, his face was taunt with pain and concentration, "You are a woman and a terrible fighter, Wenduin, and we cannot keep trying to keep you and the hobbits safe. Stay there, and stop distracting us!"
Ow. That really stung my ego. I thought I'd been doing good. I felt really bad suddenly, really knocked down, as Boromir turned. Now, when I didn't try and shove him away, he did move away some feet, and I stood there numbly. Felt tears prick, felt really hurt, my pride totally blown. So for a moment I watched him. The man was an incredible fighter, almost psychic, almost like he KNEW where each Ork would be before finding their heart... where as I had just been sort of waving it around, stabbing, hoping. Boromir was a lot of things and apparently 'incredible fucking swordsman hero' was one of them.
And Frodo was still being harrassed by a troll. Nothing I could do for him though, I couldn't even see him, just hear shouts now. The pillars were in my way. Aragorn sounded like he was there.
"Use your bow!" Boromir hissed. He actually looked annoyed. "Don't stand there."
Okay, stay there, don't fight, but do shoot arrows. I wanted to be angry but ...well, it was logical, and I shoved the sword away, trying to shoot. The first few shots weren't good, I felt kind of upset with myself, but I gritted my teeth, and shot, pain stringing through my arm. This, at least, I could do fairly well, managing to shoot orcs as he fought them. This made Boromir's job faster, and the annoyance had faded from his eyes. Instead, there was something else there, taunt concentration, this look … like this was what he knew. This was where he felt comfortable. This was his world, this world of ...black stinking blood, of sweat, and fighting.
"Aragorn? Aragorn!" Frodo's panicked cry caught both our attention, and Boromir froze, slamming the side of his shield so hard into the head of an Orc that it went down, head twisted to the side strangely, his breathing hard and fast.
"Frodo!" Aragorn shouted.
Now, we knew, it was time to go to Frodo. Seriously. It didn't sound in control at all. Boromir grasped my arm, shoving me along the wall, as he fought ahead of me. This was apparently how it worked. Me behind with the bow, him ahead, and it seemed to be working pretty good apparently. Aragorn's shout from ahead, just three or four metres, but it felt like … it felt like a mile right now, we just didn't seem to get more than a foot without something wanting to be killed.
There was a sudden gasp, something I couldn't quite make out, and Pippin and Merry's sudden screams. I did see them though, just as we managed to get close, the two of them leaping onto the back of the troll, trying to drive their swords into it.
"Stupid hobbits!" Boromir hissed, slamming his sword against a blade, shoving me back. Then he charged into the middle of the room, heading for an orc that had aimed a bow at the hobbits.
His words echoed in my head. I stood there, numb, staring as the troll was attacked, and only Sam's shout really got to me.
"Frodo!"
Oh god. Why was I hear? Guilt dogged me, Boromir had been protecting me and not him and...
I tried to shoot arrows at the troll, which really didn't work, they just bounced off the tough hide. The others were attacking it openly now- all the Orcs were more or less dead, and no more were coming through the door. Yet. I kept one eye on it, trying to help, Pippin trying to pierce the hide with his blade from above... Merry was in the troll's hand now, I saw it, feeling sick.
I moved forward, Boromir trying to shove me back towards the wall, but I ducked sideways and tried to help.
Legolas moved past, his bow in hand, his eyes fixed on the troll. He headed straight for it, aimed and …
The troll stood there, freezing, slowly reaching up for its mouth. What was going on? I stared, trying to keep up, and ...then it was dead, collapsing with a heavy thud. Pippin was thrown off, thrown into me, the two of us falling back onto the ground.
It was over.
I sat there, breathing hard, half winded from the force of Pippin's fall. He blinked groggily, shaking his head, staring up.
"You're bleeding."
I probably was, but that wasn't what worried me. Everyone was rushing to where I'd last seen Frodo.
Pippin shook his head slowly, his eyes hazy, before suddenly he exclaimed, "Frodo!" Scrambling to his feet, he darted away.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck... I scrambled to my feet, chasing after Pippin, head spinning somewhat. What had I done, coming here? Boromir should have...why hadn't I accepted more training? I skidded to a halt beside Legolas, nearly crashing into him, and one of his hands grasped my arm.
Aragorn rolled the still body up and …
Frodo was alive.
I stared down, seeing Frodo blinking up at everyone, a giant metal object falling to one side. I breathed out slowly, relief flooding me, shutting my eyes. I heard Legolas do the same, sigh with relief.
"He's alive!" Sam was holding onto his hand hard, Frodo sitting there, clutching his chest.
"I'm all right, I'm not hurt." Frodo was having trouble breathing though, sitting there, something glinting through where his shirt had torn.
"You should be dead! That spear would have skewered a wild boar." Aragorn wasn't letting go of Frodo either. H
"I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye." Gandalf's face had relaxed now, and I swore I even sore a trace of humour there, as if this was a great joke to him. I glanced back to the door, anxious. Great. The words 'Frodo is safe. Pick him up, wrap him in bubble wrap, and let's get the fuck out of here.' were literally on the tip of my tongue. Who cared why he was alive, so long as he was, and …
"Mithril!" Gimli exclaimed. Oh yeah, that shiny mine stuff. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins."
We all heard orcs, heard that horrible cry of theirs, Gandalf meeting my eyes. I tried to gesture towards the door subtally but I was so shell shocked that it was a pretty obvious and jerky gesture towards the door.
He nodded a fraction, looking tired suddenly, and hissed, "To the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!"
We ran. And now, now that I was running, I felt every wound, every scratch, even this burning sensation up my arm where something had cut fairly deep. But it didn't matter. We ran through the dark pillars, the beautiful ornate pillars that I'd loved just hours before, which now seemed more ominous and deadly than ever before. I had this urge to glance up and did, and wished I hadn't, because those monsters were crawling down pillars. Thousands of them. Thousands and thousands.
The pain of the wounds faded at that. I ran harder, trying to keep near Gandalf, urging my hurt body to really run. Screw being heavy. Screw being injured.
Then, suddenly, we were surrounded. I didn't see how many. All I knew was that we were surrounded, like a forest of Orc, and I was shoved back into the middle beside the hobbits, Boromir shifting to my side. They were hideous, gloating, staring at me like I was meat. Maybe I was. Did they eat us? Somehow I felt that they did. And I knew that we'd be dead within minutes.
Something slid into my hand suddenly and when I looked down, it was Merry, his hand around mine, his eyes on the certain death around us. Any second now, they'd pounce. Any second now, they'd...
There was a deep growl, something worse than any noise I'd heard here, something that sent an involuntary shiver right up my spine. Hair stood up. The growl echoed, echoed through the great City, around each pillar, and the ground shook. Not as it had earlier, with drums, but … it was an earthquake, I could barely stand.
There was a glow, suddenly, a warm glow and the Orcs panicked. They ran, screaming, crawling away, running, climbing, Gandalf's hand shaking on his staff. I turned to follow his gaze. We were completely alone now, completely abandoned, this thing... this growl... it had scared them away.
When I saw it, I knew what it was. Visions, memories, whatever the fuck it was, I knew what that thing was, and I knew that I didn't want to tangle with it. Somehow I knew that even Elves were afraid of this thing, so magic Legolas would be running too, that this thing killed everything.
Boromir's hand was still on my arm, I noticed, and he'd noticed me trembling. He glanced at me, then at the light, unsure suddenly. His grip had tightened on his sword once more. "What is this new devilry?"
I knew. I said it out loud, or I tried to, but … it only came out as a whisper, a croak, I couldn't speak. "Balrog."
Legolas, on my other side, stiffened, his face white, and for the first time since I'd met him, he looked afraid.
"A balrog- a demon of the ancient world." Gandalf's answer wasn't a surprise to me or to Legolas, but the others didn't seem to get it, Aragorn had raised his sword, Boromir had let go of me to grasp his shield, like they were getting ready to fight.
"This foe is beyond any of you." Even Gandalf seemed afraid, somehow, and he turned suddenly. "Run!"
We ran through an arch, the glow from the Balrog radiating past us, burning so hot that I saw my skin start to turn pink, as if I was being sunburnt. Boromir's confidance had gone, I could see it, see his own panic attempt to take him over as he felt the heat too. He was ahead of us, running down the stairs three at a time, Legolas right behind him.
There was a shout suddenly, as I saw Boromir nearly go over the edge of a missing staircase, Legolas quick to grab him and drag him back by his sheer body weight, nearly tipping into me. I grasped both of them, and stared down, the hobbits beside me, staring in horror at the horrible drop. And the staircases without rails.
"Do as I say! Swords are no more use here!" I heard Gandalf shout, and Aragorn was moving, tugging at Frodo. They started down the staircase at a run, Gimli right behind, and I groaned... and followed. I ran, praying that I wouldn't trip, that I wouldn't fall, as I ran dwon the staircase, trying to avoid rubble, dirt, anything that'd trip me and send me falling to my death, adrenaline back, breathing in sharp panicked gasps. The roars were louder, the heat back once more, and it felt like it was RIGHT behind us.
There was a gap, suddenly, and Legolas leapt across. I was going too fast, too heavy footed, to stop, and found myself by instinct jumping as far as I could. I nearly fell, nearly twisted my foot on the other side, but Legolas was fast, grabbing at me and keeping me upright somehow.
"You really are magic." I panted, words barely understandable even to me, but he was already turning back up. I gazed up and stared in horror at the gap I'd just jumped. It was massive.
"Gandalf!" Legolas called. Gandalf jumped, Legolas grasping for him, and I backed down as Gandalf hurried to stand behind Legolas. Arrows hit the steps, just inches from my feet, and I jumped, nearly bumping into Gandalf again. Legolas turned, bow held up, and fired. I had to guess he'd gotten it- there were no more arrows.
Boromir grasped Merry and Pippin, holding them, and leapt, using all his strength to get him and both hobbits across the gap. There were more arrows, suddenly, nearly hitting Boromir, and I grasped Pippin as he was lowered down, Merry coming. Legolas was firing now, eyes narrowed, shooting at things in the dark I couldn't see. Boromir headed back up to the edge. Sam, seconds later, was tossed over, Aragorn easily moving him.
Gimli jumped. He couldn't jump as far, almost falling back, Legolas grabbing him hard by the beard.
"Not the beard!"
"Better the beard than the fall." I head myself snap, jumping as an arrow whistled past my ear, only remmebering that I didn't have an ear there. Lucky. Gimli didn't answer but he moved closer, stepping down, probably ready to get running again.
Only, I realised, Aragorn and Frodo were in deep shit. The ledge was literally breaking under them, the two of them scrambling up the stairs, getting higher and higher, and further and further from us. Shit. Shit. Shit...
There was a growl, a terrible growl, as the Balrog hit something, trying to break through the wall between it and us. Great stones fell from the ceiling, as big as cars, knocking the staircase above us, breaking parts of it off. It started to fall. With Aragorn and Frodo on it.
"Steady!" Aragorn shouted, his hand on Frodo's shoulder, as it tipped. His face was white, teeth clenched, as it started to tip sideways. "Hold on!" He leaned, probably by instinct, leaned for us. The stairs started to tip again, this time towards, us, and something in Aragorn's face snapped. "Hang on, Lean forward!"
Frodo leaned forward, more or less, and the stairs started to tip towards us, as more giant boulders fell around us, as the Balrog tore its way through the stone wall between us and it. Fire was licking through the cracks, showing just how close the Balrog was, just how close we were...
The staircase suddenly slammed into us, Legolas and Boromir catching Aragorn and Frodo, and we were running again, running as fast as we dared down the staircase and into a hall, through a tunnel, the Balrog just metres away. It felt like it. It sounded like it. It kept feeling like it was about to jump on us.
"There!" Aragorn shouted, pointing ahead, at where there was a narrow bridge. "Run!"
Flames suddenly exploded behind us, so hot that I saw the steam from my clothing start to rise, sure that I was blistering.
"Over the bridge! Fly!" Gandalf shouted.
Then, suddenly, it was there. I felt it, felt it drop onto the stone behind us, glancing behind me and wished I hadn't. With a growl, this thing, this fucking awful thing, stood there, growling loud. But it wasn't like the Orcs. I saw it, I felt it, felt the cruel intelligence, this thing was a living, thinking creature. A predator. Something that was far worse than anything I had ever seen.
I ran harder, turning away, my entire body shaking as hard as it had in the snow. Bridge. Run. I barely saw how narrow it was, barely saw how deep the fall was, all I could see was the Balrog, knowing that this thing was worse than anything else.
At the other side, I ran into Aragorn, and heard a shout.
"You cannot pass!"
I turned, as Frodo screamed, "Gandalf!", to see Gandalf. Alone on the bridge with the Balrog.
The Balrong grew bigger, or it appeared to, and a whip cracked across it, spendng sparks, flames, flying, even as far as to us. It tried to hit him, maybe, or just scare him... I couldn't be sure which.
"I am the servent of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor..." Gandalf was saying, so clear, loud enough for us to hear, his staff glowing in brightness. "The dark fire will not aviail you, Flame of Udun!"
The Balrog attacked, or tried to, as it stepped forward and I stepped forward... only to be dragged back by Legolas, his hand on my arm. The whip didn't even pierce Gandalf's light, much to my amazement, and the Balrog roared again, fire and flame burning us all the way across the bridge. Yet, Gandalf still didn't budge, didn't move. He shouted now, shouted with such power that awe filled me, "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"
He slammed his staff into the bridge. It crumbled, breaking under the Balrog, and the Balrog fell.
I breathed out in relief, as the Balrog vanished, shutting my eyes. It was while my eyes were shut that it happened. What, I didn't see, but when I opened my eyes... Gandalf wasn't there. No, he was. He was clutching to the edge of the broken bridge.
"We have to get him!" I moved forward again, Legolas not stopping me this time, but Boromir hung onto Frodo. An arrow struck the ground in front of us. The Orcs had reappeared.
Gandalf hissed something, as Aragorn ran forward, something I didn't hear. Then he was gone.
"Noooooooo!" Frodo's pained shout filled my head, the cave, the chamber, and I saw more arrows raining down now, as more Orcs appeared on the other side.
Legolas was pulling at me again. I turned, glancing back, stunned. What had just happened? Gandalf, falling to his death? He urged softly, "Come on," but his face was stunned, as if he couldn't believe it either.
We burst out into sunlight, onto a mountain, sunlight that blinded and confused me. I stood there, numb, staring. Sam collapsed onto the ground, head in hands, shoulders shaking as he sobbed. Pippin was crying, Merry holding onto him, and Legolas stared at me, his eyes wide.
Gandalf was dead then?
I felt my legs give way at that and I sat there on the ground, staring, numb. I'd only known him for a few weeks but … his smile, his sense of humour, I'd liked it. I'd liked him. And I'd barely known him. He couldn't be dead. It didn't seem real.
Aragorn's voice came through my stunned mind, "Legolas, get them up."
Legolas pulled gently at my shoulder before heading for the hobbits.
I stumbled up, hearing Boromir plead, pain all over his face as he stood there. "Give them a moment, for pity's sake!"
"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs! We must reach the woods of Lothlórien. Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up." Aragorn wasn't even looking back at the cave. I stared at him. Maybe he was right. But I felt weird, like I could barely walk, my chest hurt.
He headed for Sam, pulling him up, and looked for Frodo. Frodo was far away, or trying to be, the glint of tears on his face as he stood there. I shut my eyes. It didn't seem real. None of this seemed real.
"Let's go." Aragorn said softly, suddenly, beside me. I stared at him. "Wenduin. Only half a day's run to the safety of the trees."
Half a day's run. I felt so exhausted, so weary, I just wanted to curl up and sleep. Nodding, I tried to muster energy, and went after him.
