Chapter Four - Something is Wrong
Legolas woke up vomiting violently. It was another gray day, and the chilly air bit him as he wrapped his cloak tightly around his shoulders.
"Why did I throw up?" As an elf, he NEVER got sick. This was a very strange occurrence, and he still felt very nauseous.
"Oh dear, and you have dark lines under your eyes!" Commented Galadrisfedoraconversa.
Legolas gasped. He NEVER looked less than perfect. Something terrible was truly going on.
Gimli let out a bit of a giggle. "Alright, laddie? This reminds of the time my nephew took a goat's horn to the gut. He didn't handle it well, either."
"I'm fine, really I am," he exclaimed, trying to compose his voice. "Let's continue on with the mission! To Mordor we go! Over hill and under hill, over mountain, under valley, through river, we shall travel with no fear of twilight nor midnight, nor Prince Tevildo himself!
The Prince of Cats would have been a kinder fiend than Galadrisfedoraconversa of The Southern Isles. They journeyed on and on till they reached Cadarahs the Cruel, and climbed up it.
Naturally, the snow was tough and bitter to tread through. Usually, however, Legolas would have managed it well, skipping over it singing and teasing the others, who were more heavy footed. But that day, Legolas trudged like the rest, the cold bothering him. The cold had NEVER bothered him before.
Galadrisfedoraconversa, on the other hand, danced through it merrily.
"You seem bothered, my dear Legolas?"
"Yes, well, there is a foul voice on the air."
It was none other than the voice of Saruman cursing them, but of course of you knew that. You probably knew that because you either watched the movies, read the books, heard a friend lecturing many hours on it, or all three. So, you may also know that their little detour over the freezing mountain was futile, and they climbed back down, where they would go through another mountain.
The Mines Of Moria, where even the fell Balrog that dwelled there trembled at the sight of Galadrisfedoraconversa.