And In The Darkness Bind Them
Arc One: Lord of the Rings
Chapter Four:
He watched the thin, smoky trails climb into the air and disappear once the reached the height that destroyed them visibly, the ashes caught in the fumes scattered among the wind. He followed the trails with his eyes until he caught himself staring into the flames. Viper didn't get why they needed a fire, the day was already hot enough, he was practically baking. It must have been because of his full-out black attire, however, so he never said anything once Aragorn pointed it out. Viper was used to eating fresh, or cool foods during the day and the hot meals in need of cooking over a fire during the cool nights. He was most comfortable that way. This fire in the middle of an outstretched arm of the mountains, during the day with the sun's rays glaring down on them, the very wind stiff with heat, and not a cloud in sight was making him uneasy. He didn't like breaking a routine.
Sam finished stirring the fire and tossed his stick to the side, climbing up the rocks to where Frodo sat, watching Boromir teach Merry and Pippin how to use the swords Aragorn had given them.
"Two," the man of Gondor called out, and Pippin raised his sword with shaky arms, the weight of the sword causing the trembles. "One, five. Good. Very good." Boromir swiftly moved his sword around, and gently taped it against on side of Pippin's smaller blade. The weapon wobbled.
Aragorn sat off to the side, on another set of rocks. He smoked a pipe and paused every now and then to call out encouragement. "Move your feet."
Pippin sucked in a breath, before stumbling to the side and swinging wildly. Boromir let out a cry and knocked the blade away from him. He smiled. "Almost."
"You look good, Pippin." Merry called from his spot on the sidelines. Pippin graced his best friend with a grin. "Thanks," he said, before turning back and lifting his sword again.
As the hobbits battled, Merry switching places with Pippin every so often, Viper stayed in the shadows of a large boulder near the encampment, watching curiously as Gimli approached Gandalf, who sat near the horses and Bill the pony, Sam's. The immortal's ears twitched, and he heard the low mumble of Gimli's voice despite the distance.
"If anyone were to ask for my opinion, which I note they've not, I'd say we were taking the long way 'round. Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria! My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome!" Viper tilted his head when he saw the hesitant look on Gandalf's face. "Hm..." he murmured under his breath.
Gandalf removed the pipe from his mouth, which he'd been smoking, blowing rings and impossible shapes in a variety of colors. He appeared faintly surprised, before pinning his eyes on the dwarf. "No, Gimli, I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice."
Viper found this interesting. What does the " old man" know that I do not? That none of us do? He twisted around silently to get a look at the company's elf, who stood perched on the higher rocks, gazing out into the distance, bow clutched firmly in his hands. Viper frowned. Legolas wasn't this jumpy. Gandalf missed the disgruntled look on Gimli's face as he turned to gaze in the same direction, to the South.
"Come," Boromir's voice caught his attention. Viper tilted his head towards the left this time, watching the son of Denethor's blade come quite too close to Pippin, and even closer, as they spared. "Good, good."
The man's blade nicked Pippin's hand as the hobbit pulled back from another swing. The hobbit yelped. Viper grinned, even if it was subdued. He didn't notice Aragorn, who'd been watching him ever since he'd looked away from the Ranger, and he didn't see the man smile when he noticed Viper's small grin.
"Sorry!" Boromir winced, yanking his sword away and letting it clatter onto the rocks. Pippin kicked Boromir in the shin, and a laugh bubbled out of Viper's throat. Aragorn turned to look at the scene.
"Get him!" Merry shouted, and the two hobbits joined forced to bring Boromir to the ground in a mock fight. The three start laughing and Aragorn soon joins in, as Pippin let out a war cry. "For the Shire! Hold him! Hold him down, Merry!" The two hobbits giggled.
Boromir tussled their hair, and Viper eventually got comfortable in the shade of the boulder, laying on his stomach with his hand and elbows supporting his chin as he watched, highly amused. The hobbit's let out indignant shouts and pinned down the man's arms for dare touching their hair. Aragorn leaned forward, observing the interested look on Viper's face—or, what he could see of it—and took in the fact that the younger man had appeared to finally relax since they'd left Rivendel; since that talk with Glorfindel. He let out a small sigh after a moment, and stood, making his way to the wrestling trio. He placed a hand on either hobbit's shoulder. "Gentlemen," he called in a voice that said he was only half-jesting. "That's enough."
Merry and Pippin exchanged looks, before each grabbing a hold on either of the Ranger's legs, pulling him down to the ground. Aragorn let out a yelp, sprawling out on his back. He heard the familiar, and slightly missed, sound of Viper's laughter. The four wrestling males—Aragorn had joined in quickly—paused ever-so-slightly at the noise, before continuing with grins. They'd gotten Viper to laugh again.
"My arm!" Pippin called out, woefully, "You've got my arm... You've got my arm!" He pulled himself onto Boromir's back and wrapped his arms around the man's neck in a choke-hold as Merry took on the group's Ranger.
"Your honor to be restored, Pippin!" Viper called out, "Get him, Merry!"
Boromir and Aragorn turned to him with mock glared. "Traitor!" They cried in unison. Viper cackled.
"What is that?" The hooded man heard Sam ask. He turned to see the gardener standing next to Legolas, who was watching intently as a strange cloud had appeared.
"Nothing," Gimli answered in the elf's stead, hearing the question as well. The wrestling behind them dwindled down as the others looked up to stare as well. "It is only a whiff of a cloud."
"It is moving awfully fast." Boromir called out warily, getting up from the ground with a hand on Merry and Pippin's shoulders.
Viper scaled the boulder he sat in the shade of, wincing minutely as the full heat blasted against his skin. He squinted, before slowly back up again. "Against the wind. It is moving against the wind!"
"That is no cloud," Frodo frowned, eyes big.
Legolas stared for a moment, before quickly retreating from his place in the rocks. His eyes were wide and his movement fast. "Crebain!" he cried. "From Dunland!"
Aragorn jerked back. "Hide!" he hissed, shepherding the hobbits into some nearby bushes. Boromir climbed into the thicket after them. "Hurry!" He called.
The Fellowship rushed around, looking for places to camouflage themselves from the approaching enemy. "Frodo!" Viper called. "Go faster!" He gestured to a outcropping near the young hobbit, and Frodo cast him a thankful look before scurrying underneath it. Viper pressed himself against the boulder, in the shadows. He blended in surprisingly well.
They waited in silence, gazing up at the sky, waves of heat making their vision waver. A flash of darkness against the light of the bright blue of daytime overhead, and they quieted as a flock of black birds flew, cawing loudly.
They watch as the birds circle the hill, twice, three times, before turning back and disappearing in the South once more. The group slowly made their way out into the open again. Viper stood up stretched, then cast a glare at the sun. "I will end you, one day," he swore. "You will die." His voice was dead serious, as if he truly believed his words held truth. The group assumed his words to be in jest, an attempt to loosen the tension, and they laughed, considering the attempt successful; as were all Viper's plans, it seemed.
Of course, Viper did believe his words to be true, and he knew it would happen one day. Perhaps not by him, but it would happens.
But they didn't need to know that.
He plopped down into the shade of the boulder once again and curled up. "I'm sleeping." He huffed, addressing them. "Wake me up if someone dies." And with that, and buried his face into his arms and ignored their presence.
Aragorn and Boromir exchanged exasperated looks, as Pippin and Merry gave one another grins. They wandered over into the shade of the boulder and sat down near the now-apparently sleeping enigma, only to get kicked in the backs. They yelped, stumbling out into the sun once again. "My rock," everyone heard Viper growl irritatedly "Go find your own, Halflings."
"They're like children?" Aragorn murmured once he was certain Viper had finally dozed of. He remembered the hooded man's words from when their small group had entered Rivendel months before, and shook his head. "Nay. He is the child, here."
"What are you saying?" Boromir asked, and Aragorn cast him a look, before making himself comfortable on a smaller boulder. "Viper is a child in the body of a young man," he responded. "I see it now."
"Ah," Boromir breathed, sheathing his sword. "He is, isn't he? I daresay he's the youngest here. In mind, in the least."
"In body as well, possibly." Aragorn leaned back. "I actually do not know his age. He hasn't told me. I don't think he would, in fact. If I were to ask him, I swear he'd make some joke about it being rude to ask a person their age."
"Isn't that only with women, though?"
"Aye," the Ranger smirked, taking a puff on his pipe. Boromir stared at him for a moment, before slapping a hand over his mouth to hide a snicker.
"Oi, Strider. You're teasing me, that's not very nice." Viper pouted. "And behind my back too!"
The two men jumped up, Aragorn fumbling with his pipe and spilling soot down the front of his shirt. He let out a yelp. "Viper!"
The younger man ignored his dilemma, instead placing the back of his hand to his forehead. "What kind of friend are you?" He wailed. Boromir leaned forward, letting out a few guffaws.
"Spies of Saruman," Gimli shouted at them, and the three turned with wide eyes. Viper tilted his head. "I was sleeping. Well, not just now, but I was getting back to it. We can travel again in the morning, can't we? Or, better yet, at night." He gave them a ll a pointed look. "When it's cooler."
The dwarf shook his head. "But do you know what this means?" He asked insistently. Viper rolled his eyes. "Well, of course. The passage South is being watched. Which mean that—"
"We must take the Pass of Caradhras." Gandalf state gravely, agreeing. The others sucked in breaths at his tone, looking back into the south to where the Crebain had disappeared to.
Viper glared at the wizard. "Do not interrupt me, old man! I was going to say that!" But the wizard barely cast him a glance, promptly ignoring the complaining mystery as he turned on his heel, walking over to his bags. Viper cried in dismay. The rest of the group smiled. "Oi! Old man! Oyaji! Look at me when I'm speaking to you! Gramps!"
Sam tugged on the hem of Viper's shirt. "What does "oh-yea-gee" mean, Viper?" He asked curiously. Viper froze. The rest of the group stared at when he failed to answer. Aragorn frowned. "Viper?"
"It is a word, in an ancient language called Japanese." Viper answered stiffly. He waited a moment, before shaking himself from the sudden mood and grinning mischievously. "It is actually a very disrespectful title to address an elder with, but..." He cackled, so that they missed the slight hesitation when he emphasized the word "elder."
"Viper!" Aragorn admonished, before shaking his head with a exasperated smile. "You're very ill-mannered!"
The hooded man shrugged, before lifting his head up, startled. He looked at them, before dashing back into the shade of the largest boulder. He curled up once more. "I'm sleeping, now. Aragorn, no speaking of me behind my back." The hooded man warned. "I will find out."
The Ranger only grinned, lifting his hands up in mock surrender. Viper huffed at him, before he once again buried his face in his arms and dozed off.
oOoOo
"Cold, cold, cold, cold," Viper whined softly, his breath fogging before his mouth. He wrapped his arms around himself tighter, and trembled. "I'm so very cold."
Aragorn and Boromir both watched him, from their places on either side of the younger man. They appeared amused, but no less agreed with his observation. The snow was soaking through the soles of their boots.
"Remember when he was too warm?" Aragorn reminisced thoughtfully, looking up at the gray, cloud-filled sky.
"Back before the Crebain?" Boromir clarified, before nodding. "Aye. 'I'm too hot,' he says. Now he is too cold."
Viper threw his head back and shot an unseen but still felt glare at them, and they chuckled. "I'd gladly call that blistering heat back now," the hooded enigma snapped mournfully. He shook his head, before casting a scowl at the icy fluff beneath and around them. "I hate cold—hate it."
Legolas looked down from his place high above them, his feet feathering right over the snow mounds, barely a footprint in his path. Viper made a small, affronted noise and shot the nimble elf a heated look of jealousy, before his eyes widened, and he slipped on a tile of ice. The hands of Aragorn and Boromir instantly shot out to steady him before he could tumble off of the cliff face the group was scaling, and Viper clutched their forearms as he sucked in short breaths. He glowered down at the sheet of ice that lay hazardously beneath them. "And ice," he added. "Hate that too, yeah."
"Where has your spryness gone now?" Gandalf questioned from ahead of them. The men looked forward and saw that he and the hobbits—as well as Gimli—had paused to look back at them. Viper let out a dry chuckle. "It's the chill. I don't like—I hate them, old man." He shook his head, paused, and was suddenly all fancy flips again, easily scaling the snow banks before he could slip on the ice again—getting as far away from the frozen water as possible—which was quite impossible. He ended up clinging to Legolas' shoulders with his legs wrapped around the elf prince's torso. The other's gazed up at the two with grand amusement as Legolas shot the black-clad young man an incredulous look while he attempted to catch his balance. Viper only wrapped his arms around the blond's shoulders and buried his face into the other's pale hair. "I'm staying here," he declared stubbornly, and Legolas had to let out a short breath of frustration. Boromir, Aragorn and the hobbits were too busy laughing at him, along with Gimli who was apparently attempting to commit the very moment to permanent memory. Gandalf leaned forward on his staff, eyes twinkling.
"Viper—" Legolas found a gloved hand gently clap over his mouth to muffle any protests.
"Please, Legolas?" Viper exclaimed in a childish voice. "The ice is so cold and scary, you have to be the brave elf and protect me from it!"
Legolas grumbled minutely while Gimli howled with laughter. Aragorn and Boromir were amused to no end, though they did exchange a look—they'd both noticed how Viper's apparently teasing words were not all only in jest.
What was it about the ice and the feeling of cold that Viper was so frightened of—though such fear was not shown openly? Given, no one liked being cold, it was a common sentiment, but Viper seemed to absolutely despise it.
"Come!" Viper buried his concealed face deeper into Legolas' hair, perhaps in an attempt to get warm. "L's g'h."
"Was that suppose to be a sentence?" Pippin questioned curiously, examining the shadowy enigma.
"Not sure, Pip," Merry replied, squinting at the scene of Viper clutching onto the blond elf. "But I think we should get out of this here terrain, before Mister Viper chooses someone else as a heat source."
Their journey progressed slightly quicker than before. No one wanted Viper clinging to their backs, the traveling was difficult enough.
oOoOo
Later on, as they trudged through the glistening snow, under the bright blue sky, Frodo met the same obstacle Viper had before, and slipped on his way over to hold a conversation with Gimli out of the hobbit's own boredom. He let out a surprised cry that woke up a slumbering Viper—who, if you wish to know, was still attached to the back of Legolas, who was quickly becoming used to the extra weight—as he near tumbled down the steep wall and into the valley below—if it had not been for a quick Aragorn, who snatched the young Halfling's forearm just in time.
Instantly, even before giving a thank-you, Frodo's mind went to the Ring that was suppose to hand 'round his neck. He grasped at the chain that he'd grown accustomed to in the past journey, only to find it missing. He shot a panicked glance up at the suddenly stiff Ranger, before looking around wildly, hoping to spot some glint of metal in the snow. Viper watched them in silence, his arms securely wrapped around the shoulders of a wary Legolas.
The company turned to look back up the slope, then let out short breaths of relief as they noticed the Ring, shining in the rays of the light above, nestled neatly in the snow.
"Well, that's good," Viper mused thoughtfully, a touch of exhaustion to his voice. They'd quickly learned that the icy and cold terrain, coupled with the blistering heat from the sun above them did not make for a happy, or even a fully conscious Viper. If Aragorn hadn't already checked for a fever, they'd have thought the youth was ill again. "It just wouldn't do to loose the main object of this entire war halfway through our journey to end it, now would it?" He didn't wait for a reply, letting his head fall forward again. Legolas didn't even flinch this time as the smaller man on his back buried his never-seen face into his hair once again. Boromir scaled up the steep slop, reaching out to retrieve the Ring before Frodo could think to move.
"Boromir, bad idea—" Viper's called as his head snapped up again, only for the young man to let out a defeated sigh as he saw the man of Gondor staring at the Ring in hi hand, fascination crossing his features. He allowed his head to fall back down again. "Mmf."
"Boromir," Frodo called out softly, not at all liking the look on the taller male's face.
But Boromir wasn't listening. He gazed at the Ring, face somewhat sad. His voice was quiet as he spoke up. "It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt… over so small a thing. Such a little thing."
They all stood frozen, watching the Ring swing from left to right on it's chain, until Boromir slowly reached out a gloved hand to touch it. Aragorn leaped forward, a hand on his sword. "Boromir!" He snapped warningly. The journey now may have made the two men consider themselves acquaintances instead of minute enemies, but he had yet to hold the Son of Denethor in high regards. This wasn't helping that, either.
Boromir's head shot up at his words, as if he'd been woken from a trance. Aragorn leaned forward, exposing the hand that he kept on the hilt of his weapon. "Give Frodo the Ring."
After a long pause, none of the company moving an inch—except for Viper, who shifted slightly on Legolas' back(the elf could tell he was listening intently, despite his sleepy appearance) at times—Boromir began to slowly make his way back down the slop, coming to stand in front of Frodo and the heir of Isildur. Aragorn kept a hand on his weapon. The sandy-haired man's words sounded almost wistful as he held out the chain, Ring dangling, out to the Hobbit. "As you wish..." his voice was light, as if nothing had happened—and perhaps, to him, nothing had.
Frodo did not waste any time, his hand shot out quickly to snatch the Ring from Boromir's grasp. He slipped the chain around his neck and stuffed the glinting metal under his collar once more. He didn't turn as Boromir jokingly tousled his light brown locks, moving on ahead of them and toward the rest of the company, who could see the slightly nervous look on the man's face. Aragorn released his hold on his sword as Frodo looked on suspiciously after.
Soon, the group was walking again, continuing their travels. The air around them was heavy and not a member dared to speak to break the silence that nearly suffocated. They had no doubts that, if Viper had been conscious, he'd have been babbling away and ignoring the tense atmosphere, but whenever they glanced at the black-clad youth who clung to Legolas' back, he was sleeping as if unconscious from a heavy blow. There was no one awake to lighten the mood this time.
After a few days—most of which Viper spent sleeping on one of the men's backs(he sometimes switched between Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas), as he'd told them that the much hated cold made him drowsy—and they'd successfully made it out of the most deep of the snowy mountainside. They were setting up camp, with Merry and Pippin taking turns in stirring the now growing fire with long, thin sticks. Sam stood over them as he paused in unpacking the bag that contained the company's food, and dried meat ready to be cooked. Frodo was settling down on a log that Gandalf had claimed as a seat, and Legolas scaled the nearest winter tree to get a view of their surroundings. Boromir lifted a sleeping Viper off of Aragorn's back and gently laid the younger man down on a blanket that he'd spread out near the fire after scraping away as much ice and snow as he could manage—confident that the mysterious youth would appreciate the warmth the hot flames would present them all. Aragorn slowly straighted and popped the joined of his spine, before turning around and glancing down at the black-clad, lithe figure. Viper had immediately latched onto the blanket and was now curled in on himself, hands fisted in the material. "He really is like a child."
"We've been over this before, have we not?" Boromir raised a brow.
"We have," Sam chimed in from the man's side, and they looked down at the Halfling. "You two spoke of it back in that desert-like place, didn't you?"
"So we did," Aragorn nodded, wandering over to collapse by Gimli, the dwarf slumbering lightly while propped up against a fallen tree. "So we did."
Not much else was spoken that night, as Boromir was set for the first watch. Aragorn made his place of rest near the fire, so he could keep an eye at the still near-comatose Viper. It would be just the company's luck to wake up and find the younger man missing. Who knew what trouble Viper would come up with in the night?
Perhaps that was a question best left unanswered.
oOoOo
As the Fellowship labored onward through the high snow banks, Legolas took his own time, and decided to run out ahead of them. Viper was found limply hanging from the stiff back of Boromir this hour—the elf swore this was better training that even lifting weights back in Mirkwood—when he glanced back. He twisted around against and surged froward, keeping a sharp eye out for any sign of dangers, or enemy forces—namely, orcs. His steps are light and he glided easily across the surface of the deep snow, blue eyes staring into the blizzards.
His ears twitched slightly, and Legolas almost felt his heart freeze in the cold winds as he caught the sound of someone speaking.
"—irasse; nai yarvaxea ra—"
He spun around and shouted out to Gandalf, who was in the lead of the progression. "There is a fell voice in the air!" He called in a panic. Gandalf's head shot up, pointed hat falling to the side a bit. His words confirmed Legolas' suspicions. "It is Saruman!"
With a rending echo, a horde of rock slabs and boulders falls from the mountain's arms. The Fellowship threw themselves flat against the sheer cliff wall in an attempt to avoid the onslaught of stone, Boromir had Viper in his arms, his shoulder crushed against the wall of the mountain. Viper was curled up into a ball with his forearms brought up to shield his head.
"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn shouted during a slight paused in the rumbling, until it started again just as suddenly. "Gandalf," the Ranger's voice held panic. "We must turn back!"
Gandalf's face took on an appearance of determination at those words. "No!" The wizard shouted, before stepping out from the cliff side and raising his hands, eyes bright. Ignoring the protesting calls of the group for him to come back to safety, he shouted out, "Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith!"
But the wizards voice was drowned out by another cry. Lightning struck the tip of Caradhras, sending a second avalanche of white ice onto the Fellowship. Legolas managed to snatch Gandalf from the edge in time, pulling him against the cliff just before the ice-fall hits. The avalanche cascaded over the group, and snow buried them completely.
A few long moments of silence and motionless snow passed, before Viper forced his way out, spluttering. "What a way to wake up." He spat, distastefully. "Cold, cold, cold—"
"Mmfrm!" Another voice called, before the snow began to tremble, before exploding outwards as the rest of the company emerged from the bank. Aragorn shot the shivering Viper a look. "Perhaps if you hadn't been asleep in the first place—"
"It's the damn cold," Viper told him flippantly. "It's out to get me, I swear. It seeps into my flesh and knocks me from consciousness." The younger man shrugged. "'Tis not my fault."
"Not this, now," Boromir called. "We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!"
Aragorn instantly spun around to rebuke the man. "The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" he shouted.
"We're taking the hobbits to Isengard~" Viper mumbled under his breath in a sing-song, but only Pippin managed to hear him, and the Halfling shot the enigma a puzzled frown.
"If we cannot pass over the mountain," Gimli spoke up, digging his way out of the dazzling snow like a badger, "let us go under it. Let us go through the mines of Moria!"
In Gandalf's eyes there is a shadow of doubt, Viper noticed. His green eyes narrowed while he turned to subtly study the ancient—not as ancient as he, however—wizard. A spark of fear that lied unsaid. He is conflicted. The immortal thought to himself. "Moria…" Viper's voice was soft, and the others quieted down to hear his words, Gandalf's stare was piercing, but Viper barely noticed it. "You fear to go into those mines." He mused thoughtfully.
Gimli shot the bearded wizard a sharp look of incredulity, while the hobbits exchanged surprised glances. Boromir blinked at Aragorn, who was studying the silent Gandalf with narrowed eyes.
A glint of fear shone in those misty, yet twinkling, blue eyes, and Gandalf let out a sigh. "The dwarves delved too greedily and too deep."
"Nonsense!" Gimli boomed. "My cousins are—"
"You do not know what they awoke in the darkness of Khazad-dûm." Gandalf told the red-haired male sharply, and Gimli sucked in a breath. The others remained quiet, until Viper hopped onto Boromir's back once more—the Son of Denethor let out a groan. "You have ridden me like a pack-mule these last few leagues!" He protested. "Go break someone else's spine!"
"I am not heavy!" Viper rebutted, indignant. Boromir tilted his head, suddenly thoughtful. "True," the sandy haired man conceded, but he still struggled. "Though, it is notwithstanding. My back aches, Viper. Go bother another."
Viper harrumphed, slipping off of his perch. His feet barely even met the ground until he was clambering onto Aragorn's shoulders. The Ranger's eyes twitched. "You," he told the hooded youth, who was settling into a comfortable position, "are more trouble than you're worth."
"I," Viper replied, back straightening in offense, "am worth so much more than you could ever afford, Strider, even after inheriting Isildur's throne." Boromir looked away, a sour looked on his face, and Aragorn stiffened. Viper gave the impression of rolling his eyes under his hood, before slinging his arms around Aragorn's neck and burying his face into the Ranger's hair. Aragorn let out a huff, tension rapidly disappearing.
"Let the Ring bearer decide," Gandalf announced, bringing their attention back to the matter at hand. Frodo stood up straight, suddenly nervous.
Boromir's voice called through the snowstorm. "We cannot stay here!" Viper turned his head slightly, keeping it shielded from the onslaught of soft yet frozen droplets of water, to look. The man of Gondor held Merry and Pippin to his chest, both hobbits were pale and shivering. "This will be the death of the hobbits!"
Sam reached out to cling to Frodo's sleeve. The curly haired Baggins stared at his two friends in Boromir's arms. The close companions, the two hobbits joined at the hip throughout everything. They were loosing color fast. This wasn't right, he thought quickly. Merry and Pippin were full of color, almost bursting with it. Cheery hued cheeks and bright red noses when chilled. Their eyes were always bright and their voices always playful. He still remembered the winter a few years before, when Pippin was always going on about how they should be called as "Pippin and Merry," instead of "Merry and Pippin." Even so, the younger eventually gave in and—that was probably the only fight he'd ever seen the two argue about.
"Frodo?" Gandalf questioned, voice ringing out over the mountain despite the sheer noise of the pounding snow.-almost hail. Frodo's head shot up to the wizard, before he cast one more look at his shivering friends. Sam's hand clenched his sleeve, the fist almost turning white from both the force of the hold and the cold. His eyes wandered to Viper, who was practically melding into Aragorn's back, as if attempting to steal all of the Rangers heat, and the black-clad youth was still shivering. He decided. Moria wouldn't snow, would it? Viper and Merry and Pippin—no, Pippin and Merry, right now(it was good to have some variety sometimes)—would appreciate some warmth, wouldn't they?
So, the hobbit ignored the look of apprehension that Gandalf was giving him while in wait for his reply, no matter how much it may have pained him, and—"We will go through the mines."
Gandalf's shoulder fell only slightly, and he let out a long breath. His answer took some time, but eventually, he gave Frodo a short nod. "So be it." He responded, voice resigned.
But Frodo caught the tiny grin that Viper was shooting at him, and the doubt somewhat washed away—and he forgot about Gandalf's unease, for the moment.
oOoOo
Viper wasn't clinging to their backs anymore, to the three men's relief, but that didn't stop the youth from complaining minutely about the chill. They'd cleared the snowy scape of the Caradhras, and now slunk under the shadows of an aqueduct's ruins. Viper soon lapsed into a short silence, bored out of his mind an unable to think of something to speak about, and the group broke for camp. Gandalf could now be found sitting back on a stone slab that may have once been up higher as a support. "Frodo," he called. "Come and help an old man."
Frodo wandered over and assisted the old wizard in opening the ties of his pack, both of their fingers trembling and missing aims due to the cold. "How is your shoulder?" Gandalf asked, after they'd managed to split open the bag.
The hobbit brought up a hand to rub the joint. It had healed somewhat nicely over their stay in Rivendel, no doubt thanks to the master-healers the elf establishment was occupied with. However, it still became sore—and this frosty weather was not helping that at all. "Better than it was," he admitted, eventually.
"And the Ring?" Gandalf inquired.
Frodo was silent. He was becoming to really dislike the Ring that was strung around his neck. It was always freezing cold—except for those short moments when it would almost burn through his shirt and flesh with it's brazen heat. It was the Ring's fault, he'd come to know. The Ring's fault Viper was always complaining—quiet pathetically, which did not suit the youth's image at all—about the cold, and his utter dislike for ice. And it was the Ring's fault that merry and Pippin—or, Pippin and Merry—almost froze to deaths. And it was the Ring's fault that Bilbo had frightened him, truly frightened him, for the very first time in, well, ever. It was the Ring's fault that they were on this wretched journey in the first place.
"You feel its power growing, don't you?" Gandalf spoke up, and Frodo turned to listen. "I've felt it too. You must be careful now. Evil will be drawn to you from outside the Fellowship. And, I fear, from within."
"Who then do I trust?" Frodo mumbled miserably, once he'd figured the meaning of his older companion's words. He didn't think he'd be able to take it if one of his new friends—or his old ones(Sam and Merry and Pippin would never betray him, he knew this)—turned on him just for the ring's whispered false promises. For some reason, he didn't believe that Viper would hear them at all, however. That was a strange thought, also. Frodo'd thought the Ring could be heard by everyone—but Viper's mental shields(he still was in awe of those) seemed to protect him from many a evil.
Gandalf turned to gaze down at him. Frodo wrapped his short arms around his torso and hugged himself. "You must trust yourself. Trust your own strengths."
"What do you mean?"
"There are many powers in this world, for Good or for Evil." Gandalf replied. "Some are greater than I am. And against some I have not yet been tested."
"You've an awfully large ego, old man," a light voice called from behind them, and both turned sharply to see Viper leaning against one of the aqueduct's only remaining supports, arm's crossed. "'Some are greater than I am,' you say? How great do you think you are?" He tilted his head curiously, but they could all hear the slight sting in his words if they listened closely.
"Viper!" Sam cried. "What is with you now?"
"That wasn't very nice," Pippin reluctantly added.
"I don't think you're very great," Viper continued, and some of the others winced shortly at the blunt words. "And then I see all these people treat you like you are a legend to behold, but—" The youth leaned forward, with unseen narrowed eyes, but you could just tell they were narrowed when you could feel the air that surrounded Viper. It was like how you'd just know he was rolling his eyes, or glaring, or sleeping. "I can't see anything. Nothing but an old man. With strange, abnormal powers. A frea—"
"Viper!"Aragorn snapped, cutting of the younger man's words. The others were looking at the hooded enigma with wide eyes. "Stop this, now!" He let out a short growl, taking a few steps forward and motioning to the rest of the group with a sweeping hand. "I understand you are tired and cold, but as are the rest of us! Those words you spoke were uncalled for—what has gotten into you?" He cried, confusion in his eyes.
Viper only huffed, arms tightening until he was hugging himself. He spun around on one heel and disappeared into the shadows. Aragorn let out a incredulous sigh, before turning to look helplessly at a silent wizard. "Gandalf, I am so sorry—"
"You need not be," the wizard held up a withered hand, his gaze set onto the spot Viper had stood only moments before. "I understand that Viper has some internal conflict that I am sure not many of you have noticed or even know of. Not that his words are acceptable, but I do not think that Viper understands why he should not say them, or think them."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked quietly, sinking down onto the slab of stone Frodo and the wizard sat on. The others—Legolas, Gimli, Boromir and Aragorn—wandered closer to listen.
Gandalf tilted his head a few times, as if pondering what to say. "Well—I do not believe Viper would appreciate that we pick him and his actions apart, but—" the wizard held a breath, before letting it out. "Alright. Let's see..."
He sat back, and Boromir scooted forward to tend to the dwindling fire. As he spoke, Aragorn aided Legolas in spreading out the bedrolls and Sam wandered to a short stream nearby to fill a pot with water for the group's supper. All of them kept their ears trained on the old wizard's words. "Viper is young, and inexperienced, I expect—however, sometimes, he acts, or speaks as if that entire philosophy I have of him is incorrect, drastically so."
"What do you mean?" Pippin inquired, leaning forward.
"It is—Viper is like a child," Aragorn explained as he spread out Merry's bedroll before moving onto Sam's. "But there are moments when he acts, or talk as if he's older than any of us. He may have seen things none of us have seen—but he won't speak of them, I know."
Gandalf nodded his agreement. "Indeed. Viper is a very private young man, he likes his secrets, I've noticed, and he likes the fact that they are secrets he alone knows. Though," here, the wizard leaned forward onto his staff in a pose they all recognized very well. "I sometimes wonder if that makes Viper lonely. It would be a very lonely existence, I'd wager."
"Viper is frightened of making connections," Boromir spoke up quietly, almost reluctantly, from his spot near the fire. He'd stopped moving a few minutes before. "He's had close friends before, but he's told me they are all gone now—killed, I think. Dead, in the least. He fears making friends because he thinks he knows that they will die, perhaps because of him, and leave him all alone again." He took in a sharp breath, his eyes wide. He couldn't believe he'd just told them all that. Viper might hate him, now. He hung his head, noticing that everyone else was silent.
"That is..." Legolas bit his lip, looking away. Aragorn sucked in a breath before letting it out slowly, slumping to the ground, pulling a bedroll under himself before he landed. "I'm not going to say I understand—that, because I do not," the man of Gondor began. "But I've already told Viper that I will be here if he needs someone to talk to." He shrugged. "And, right now, he looks like he needs someone to talk to."
Aragorn rubbed his upper arms to get some warmth, before letting out a sigh. Everyone else was silent, staring at the fire or frowning. He stood up and walked out of the camp without a word.
oOoOo
"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed, lad," Gimli explained to a confused Frodo. It was a little under a week after Viper's sudden change in mood that the group finally made it to the entrance valley of Moria. The hooded youth tended to be more quite now, but he still managed to lighten the mood with his presence. The talk that Aragorn had had with him in the darkness, away from the rest of the company, might have put the enigma more at ease.
"Yes, Gimli," Gandalf agreed, looking slightly amused. "Their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten."
Legolas paused, an eyebrow raised as he pondered this inconvenience. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" He murmured, non too quietly. Gimli only grumbled at his ploy and looked away.
Viper was a few meters away, lightly running his gloved fingers through Tharbadir's silky black mane. "Now be a good boy," the immortal cooed, "and I'll see you on the other side of this pit, won't I?" He asked. Tharbadir tossed his head with a soft neigh—as if to say, 'who do you take me for?'
Viper chuckled. "But of course."
They heard a loud splash, and Viper spun around, head tilted at a slight angle as if to improve his already phenomenal hearing. He cast Frodo a look, and the hobbit pulled back his foot with a gasp—the cold water had startled him. The group turned to look, and saw that a great pool sat beside the rock face, glinting in the moonlight. Small ripples weaved away from where Frodo had slipped, but the rest of the water remained like glass.
Gandalf swiveled his head around, before moving to approached the great stone wall between two trees, he ran his fingers over the cliff face. "Now… let's see. Ithildin—"
The hobbits let out breaths of wonderment. Beneath the wizards hand ran silvery lines, faint beneath the dirt. "It mirrors only starlight…" The old man confirmed, then added, "and moonlight."
Legolas glanced behind them and up at the darkened night sky. Slowly, the great face of the moon appeared from behind the dense trees, and, as he looked back, the silver lines strengthened until they were able to make out the outlining of a door, formed of two columns beneath an arch, with a star in the center.
Gandalf peered at the runes that appeared, barely there. "It says—'The Doors of Durin: Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.'"
"What do you suppose that means?" Merry asked him, as Viper turned back toward Tharbadir a sent the stallion off. The horse wasn't to pleased, but the group watched silently as his glimmering black coat finally disappeared off into the distance. Gandalf spoke again. "Oh, it's quite simple." Said the cheerful wizard. "If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open."
Viper snorted. They turned to him, questioning looks on their faces. He shook his head. "Somehow," he explained, "I just don't believe it will be that easy."
"Annon Edhellen, edro hi ammen!" Gandalf commanded the stone. The gate didn't budge.
"Really?" Viper drawled. "'Gate of the Elves, open now for me?' It's a dwarf mine, oyaji."
They'd fast gotten used to Viper's strange languages that the mysterious youth sometimes slipped into when talking. However—Aragorn cast the black-clad man a pointed look. He knew 'oyaji' was somewhat disrespectful, wherever Viper came from, now.
Gandalf tried again. "Fennas Nogothrim, lasto beth lammen!"
Viper made a noncommittal sound. "'Doorway of the Dwarf-folk, listen to the word of my tongue.'" He translated, for the hobbits' confused faces at the words. Aragorn sat near him as Gandalf tried tapped at the doorway's base with his staff, shouting out another combination of elvish. "'Archway of my Allies, allow me entrance." Viper hummed, for the curious Halflings.
"How is it you know elvish?" Aragorn spoke up, as Gandalf went on. Viper turned toward him slightly, and the hobbits glanced, interested.
"Elvish?" Viper asked. "How is it I know Common? Or even Dwarf?" he shrugged at their looks of surprise. "I like learning languages..."
"You know dwarf?" Gimli stomped over and plopped down on the rocky shore of the pool with them. Legolas stood near Gandalf, sometimes offering suggestions for the password, but listening in on the conversation.
"And Mannish," Viper leaned back a little, squirming in place until he was comfortable. The rest followed suit. "Languages interest me, which is why I know so many of them, aside from my own—and many dead languages, to boot."
"What dead languages?" Frodo questioned, turning away from where Gandalf had taken to whacking the archway with his staff, now. "I do not know of any I can name."
"English," Viper said, after a moments consideration, "then there is Japanese, Latin, Greek, Spanish, German... Those ones are a few of my favorites, aside from Alagaësian. Spanish, and Japanese, are a few of my favorites, I guess. Then Ancient Alagaësian, that's a pretty one. Really old, too."
"How come I've never heard of any of these?" Boromir asked, leaning forward. The other nodded. They'd never come across such words before.
"Most of them, I guess..." Viper placed a hand on the top of his head, as if sheepish. "Aha... Well, they're not exactly from Middle Earth—at least, not this Middle Earth, now."
Not from Middle Earth?" Legolas exclaimed, kneeling next to Gimli. The two exchanged less-than-pleasant glances, before the light-haired elf continued. "What do you mean?"
"Well," Viper admonished. "You're an elf, you should know there's something over there, across the sea." Legolas stiffened, regarding the youth with sudden wariness, but Viper laughed at him. "Not the sea your thinking of, though. We're on a planet. This middle Earth, it's really only one continent. The others aren't very well inhabited, though. I can tell you, though, Alagaësia is a far journey across the sea from here. Going of the eastern coastline, I should think."
"There are... other lands?" Aragorn spluttered, Legolas seemed intensely interested, as did Gimli and the hobbits. Boromir, though, appeared slightly skeptical, but curious nonetheless. Gandalf turned toward their discussion, a glimmer of something in his twinkling eyes, but he only huffed and went back at the rock face.
"Well, yes," Viper told them, simply. "What? Did you think you were the only ones? Middle Earth isn't that special, you should know."
The others appeared slightly offended at his words, then calmed as they though—was Viper from one of these other lands?
"I've never heard of such places," Legolas muttered, puzzled.
"You're not the only one, elf." Gimli shot back.
They sat there, questioning Viper further on these unknown lands, almost sure he was only joking them at some points—honestly, if there were other such lands, wouldn't they have at least heard of them, or even gotten visitors?
But eventually Viper had had enough, and they went back to silently watching Gandalf guess the password, with Viper and sometimes Aragorn or Legolas translating his words for Gimli and the hobbits, and only minimal conversation in between.
"Nothings happening." Pippin complained after a lone while, and Gandalf spun around to pin the Halfling with a slightly annoyed glance. He gave a harsh sigh and went forward to brace his hands on the solid rock, pushing against it. But the supposed doors remained fast.
"I used to know every spell in all the tongues of elves, Men… and orcs." He grumbled to himself. Viper, who had taken a sort of habit of calling the old wizard out on many a thing, heard. He gave the ancient man a smirk. "What is that, oyaji? Maybe you should go back to your wizard school." He chided in a mocking tone, before actually falling silent at Aragorn and Frodo's admonishing words. He frowned down at the ground, thinking on his veiled almost-insult to the old man. Boromir tilted his head at the sudden silence, but didn't say anything. He was still worried about Viper being hateful toward him for telling the others how the youth felt about making connections, and hadn't really spoken with the other yet. He wasn't even sure if Aragorn had told Viper what Boromir had said to the group—but he wasn't sure he wanted to risk anything.
A wizard's school... Gods, I am an idiot. Viper scowled under his hood, making sure none of the others would be able to guess at his facial expression this time around. Why can't that past just leave me a lone?
"What are you going to do, then?" Pippin questioned Gandalf, curious, and the wizard cast him an irritated glance.
"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took!" The wizened man grumbled. "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." With that, the hobbit fell silent, and Gandalf turned back toward the wall, smacking his staff angrily against the rock.
oOoOo
Time passed quite quickly, against what one would think, and the rest of the Fellowship found themselves seated around the supposed entrance to Moria.
"Ando Eldarinwa… a lasta quettanya, Fenda Casarinwa…" Gandalf was muttering, and Viper nearly goraned when the hobbits turned toward him eagerly.
"'Gate of Elves…' It's a dwarf mine! Anciano..." He grumbled, before continuing. "'Listen to my word, Threshold of Dwarves…" He eyed the wizard, before huffing. "Mmm."
Aragorn was off to the side, with Sam. He unhitched Bill the pony's bridle, before giving the animal a pat on the flank. "The mines are no place for a pony, Samwise." The Ranger told the hobbit, "even one so brave as Bill."
Sam let out an almost choked sigh, watching the pony toss it's head "Buh-bye, Bill," he muttered sadly, taking a reluctant step back.
Aragorn slapped the animal's side gently. "Go on, Bill, go on. Don't worry Sam, he knows his way home." They watched Bill clip-clop away, until the hoof-beats were only a fair echo in the distance.
The two made their way back to join the others, where Merry and Pippin took turns skipping stones on the surface of the pool. The others weren't paying attention, save for Viper, who only watched them silently.
"Do not disturb the water." Aragorn warned the hobbits with a grave tone, and Merry and Pippin shrank back. The two shared a look, before setting the rest of their stones down with a grumble.
"Bah!" Gandalf cried, finally giving up. "It's useless," He shook his head, stomping his way over to the others. Viper scooted over and the wizard made himself comfortable on the slab of stone the youth had been lounging on. Aragorn still thought he looked like a cat, sometimes. The wizard tossed his staff onto the pebbles and pulled of his hat, a small scowl on his face.
Aragorn slowly stood, eying the water. Small ripples were beginning to make there way across the water. As Gandalf and Frodo talked to each other, the rest of the Fellowship noticed, and began to watch in silence. Viper tilted his head without a word.
"It's a riddle." Frodo eventually mused, as he stood up to gaze at the runes. Gandalf cast him a curious glance, before turning to read the words again.
Viper was beginning to become uneasy. He cast the rippling pool a short glance, before flipping off of the stone slab he was on and coming up besides Frodo. "'Speak 'friend,' and enter,'" he said, quickly. Quick enough to garner their attention. Something was wrong, they noticed, now. Something had Viper spooked. "The elvish word for friend is—"
"Ah!" Gandalf brightened, but Viper tossed the wizard a look.
The water was practically shivering, now. The rest of the group began to back away, hands tight on their weapons, toward the glowing silver door.
"is 'mellon,'" Viper went on, almost forcefully, "so—"
Suddenly, just as Viper spoke, the doors slowly swung open with a deep rumbling sound. Viper was the first to enter Moria, his steps quick and completely without a sound. Gandalf followed the others, placing a small crystal onto the head of his staff, and Aragorn entered last, after ushering the hobbits in with Boromir, casting one last glance at the trembling surface of the pool.
The moonlight flooded into the shadowy chamber they soon found themselves in. "Soon, Master Elf," Gimli was heard saying roughly to Legolas, "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."
Viper frowned, lifting his head to sniff at the dank air around them, his eyes widened under his hood, and he silently slapped his gloved hands over his mouth and nose as if he'd caught a suffocating smell and didn't wish to breath it in. He almost doubled over slightly, eyes squeezed shut, practically gasping. Unfortunately, none of the others noticed this. Viper was too silent for his own good, and the chamber was too dark to see more than three feet ahead of you.
Gandalf brought his hand around the top of his staff, blowing upon the crystal. Slowly, as if the first ember of a fire, it began to glow. "And they call it a mine," the wizard grumbled, referring to the lack of torched around them. "A mine!"
"This is no mine," Boromir called, panic in his voice.
"What are the dwarves like, Mister Gimli?" Pippin asked Gimli, who grinned broadly. "Well, young Master Pippin, they're quite—"
Viper fell to his knees, and the group spun around, aside from the Son of Denethor, who stared of into the room in a shock. "Viper?!" Aragorn rushed forward. "What's—"
"It smells like death!" Viper choked.
"This is a tomb!" Boromir cried, and that certainly caught the other's attention. Gandalf's staff brightened even further, giving light enough for the rest to see what Boromir was staring at.
"No..." Gimli breathed in horror, eyes wide. "Oh, no! No!"
Broken and battered forms were strewn about the chamber, casting long shadows across the room. Gandalf sucked in a breath, moving his staff forward so the growing light revealed all of the scene, and Gimli fell forward, head moving from the left, to the right. "No!" The dwarf wailed in despair.
Legolas went forward, nimbly yanking arrow out from the body of a fallen dwarf. The elf examined it, then cast it away in disgust. "Goblins!" He spat out in horror.
Boromir quickly drew his sword and the elf prince fit an arrow into his bow. The hobbits gathered around Viper, who Aragorn was helping up of the ground—but the youth had both hands over his face, practically smothering himself. "Here," Aragorn finally said, ripping a cloth in half, one from the packs of the hobbits. "Move..." He reached both hands into Viper's hood and blindly tied the cloth around Viper's face. Viper breathed in deeply the scent of baked bread, and removed his hands from his face, batting Aragorn's hands away as he finished the knot himself. He stumbled back, coughing.
"What was that?" Aragorn questions him quietly, drawing his own sword. Viper whipped out his black daggers. Now that a cloth covered the bottom half of his face, there was no skin of Viper's showing at all—it made him look like some sort of thief or bandit. Pippin almost giggled, albeit nervously. A really awesome bandit, at that.
"Death." Viper gasped, making sure to keep his breaths shallow, as the cloth wouldn't filter all of the air. "I hate the smell of death." He shook his head, not saying anymore.
"Sure, it stinks, it does," Merry nodded hesitantly, "But, I mean, I'm not choking to death."
Viper shot the hobbit a glance, and they had a harder time interpreting it now. "My senses are heightened, more so than yours, Halfling. Death reeks of rotting corpses and crumbling bones, and sorrow and last breaths and suffering, for me. Of molding flesh and final days filled with agony. I despise it, utterly."
Merry shrank back, bumping into Pippin as they both backed away, eyes wide. But no one else had the time to dwell on what the youth had said, as they were glancing around the chamber, looking for a sign—any sign, of danger.
"We make for the Gap of Rohan." Boromir repeated his words from the weeks before, sternly. "We should never have come here. "
The door to the chamber still lay open, and the four hobbits back away slowly, toward it. Behind them, through the opening, the pool stirs again, the ripples growing longer and harsher. The Son of Denethor turned toward them sharply as he reached out an arm to steady a swaying Viper, who looked almost irritated at his own predicament. "Now get out of here, get out!"
The company started for the door, as one. However, their flee was delayed as Frodo suddenly found himself swinging upside down in the air, his foot in the grasp of a slick tentacle that had emerged from the pool. Viper tensed, standing still. The other hobbits cried out in fear. "Frodo!"
Sam spun around, looking desperate, "Strider!" He called.
"H-Help!" Frodo screamed, flailing wildly. He tried to slip the snaking tentacle from around his foot, but the arm wouldn't budge. "Help!"
Sam brought out his sword and attempted to hack at the tentacle that was slowly dragging the young Baggins back into the pool. "Let off him!" He shouted, helplessly. "Strider!"
Merry's head shot up, eyes wide in terror. Pippin huddled next to him, far away from the monster. "Aragorn!" Merry hollered.
Legolas skittered over toward them, his bow strung with an arrow ready for shooting. He took aim and fired, eyes hard in concentration. The projectile pierced another tentacle that was wrapping around Frodo's face.
That is when Aragorn and Boromir race their way over, swinging their swords and attempting to bring the beast down. Viper stood on the sidelines, scowling at the monster. If one looked closely, they would probably see a faint blue glow surrounding the supposed youths gloved fists. "I've never been fond of sea-creatures..." He muttered, but he didn't do anything right then. And, no one was looking so—no one noticed that glow.
Finally, Aragorn managed to get in a good hit, his sword slicing cleanly through the tentacle that held Frodo captive. They all heard a loud screech, like a dying bird, but they were already tumbling back toward the looming doors that lead into Moria. "Into the mines!" Gandalf cried, ushering them in. "Come, into the mines!"
"Legolas!" Boromir called as he looked back, seeing the elf readying another arrow. He was aiming closer to the water, most likely seeing something the Man could not, but Boromir was more worried for the blond's safety. "Legolas, hurry!"
The prince let the arrow fly, and he watched as it was suddenly sprouting from what looked like one of the beast's eyes. Legolas paused minutely, before spinning around and dashing back toward the door as the monster let out a pain-filled roar.
Viper allowed the blond to file in ahead of him, until he was the last to go. He slipped in just as the door boomed shut.
No one saw the sudden blue flash that zoomed in the beast's direction. And with the stone doors closing with a loud, echoing thud that sounded close to thunder, no one heard the final, tortured cry of that monster.
But Viper did.
He smirked.
And, as he turned around, Viper decided to make the adventure a little more fun.
He aimed another blast at the closed doors, this time the glow absent. There was a thundering groan, before the floor began to shake beneath their feet. Most fell to the ground, but Viper managed to brace himself against Legolas, who held a hand against a wall. Once the trembling earth stopped, they all looked back to the entrance, horror coming across their faces as they realized they were now sealed into the mine-turned-tomb. The last rays of moonlight was swallowed into the blackness, and Viper had to just barely resist his grin.
After all, it wasn't fun if it was too easy, was it? Plus, this way, if they ever found out it had been him—well, that would just go to show them how wrong they were. That he wasn't their friend, after all.
Because Viper didn't make friends, anymore.
It was perfect.
Around him, short gasps and heavy panting reached his ears as the Fellowship gathered their wits and breath. Slowly, in the darkness, a light began to show. Viper's grin fell from his face instantly, and no one was the wiser. But, who knows? Maybe he'd even tell them one day... he resisted another smile.
Gandalf re-lit his staff, and the crystal was soon brightly glowing. The wizard greeted them all with a grave look, his voice low. "We now have but one choice," he informed the group. They stared back at him with startled or frightened faces. Viper simply blended in with the surrounding darkness. "We must face the long dark of Moria." The man continued. "Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than orcs, in the deep places of the world."
As soon as they caught their breath and readjusted their packs, the group silently went deeper and deeper down the passage that connected to the chamber that stunk of the dwarves' rotting corpses. "Quietly, now," Gandalf warned them.
"It's a four-day journey to the other side." Gimli told him, face taught and pale. Viper felt slightly guilty—after all, he'd been the one to technically seal the redhead within the tomb of his own family members, however distantly related. He shook the feeling off. He wasn't used to such an emotion, at this time. It had been centuries, really.
Gandalf nodded in agreement. "Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed." He hoped aloud.
None of the rest of them spoke for a long while, but the tense and almost suddenly hopeless feeling engulfed them all.
Well, except for Viper, but you can't get everyone.
oOoOo
-Insert cleverly worded Author's Note here-
;)
~Scylar X
PS- Also, please see my profile for any poll that I may have up. They're pretty important. Just saying.
PPS- No. This story is not slash, nor het, nor yuri, no yaoi, zip, zilch, nada. Overall, no pairings. I'm keeping it Gen, really. Well, except for Aragorn and Arwen, but that's practically a given. Then, I was thinking about hooking Boromir up with Eomer's sister/cousin, whoever she is. But, that can really only happen if I decide to actually allow him to live... See? This is why I need to guys to vote on my polls! XD Just thought I should put that out there, anyway. No pairings, except for the otherwise mentioned. Tankyoo~