Disclaimer: I own only the characters of my imagination: Trinity, Dezaria, Destiny, Faith, and Scarlette. The rest, I'm sure you'll recognize as the property of the Tolkien Estate.

NOTE TO READERS: I am trying my best to familiarize myself with the format of this website. Please forgive me if you find many errors or think my paragraphs are too long.

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Legolas was the first to break free of the snow that threatened to suffocate them all. He shook his head wildly and white flakes flew from his fine blond hair. Gathering his bearings, the Elf realized he still held something in his hand. Packed deep under the bits of mountain, something throbbed weakly against his fingertips. It took him an instant to comprehend the feeling.

It was a pulse, feeble, but there. Not just a pulse, but Trinity's. Around him, the rest of the Fellowship popped out of the snow, one by one. He followed their example and dug himself out with one hand, still clutching the unmoving form with the other. The others did not realize the struggle that ensued, as Legolas tried desperately to pull Trinity out into the open air by her freezing wrist. The pulse slowed to a stop. Her hand slipped away.

Mama, it's so dark. I am cold and bleeding.

Trinity woke in a cold womb. Lost, forgotten, her eyes opened and saw only darkness. Clenching her teeth, she thrust upward with one fist and her fingertips were graced with frigid wind. A warm close around it, and drew her up. He looked at her, then, the slow melted against her skin slowly, a few drops moved temptingly down her throat, between her breasts. On her right shoulder was a smudge of blood, he moved to touch and inspect it, but she knocked his hand away.

He came back for me.

Shut up.

"Thank you," she whispered lowly.

He smiled briefly and opened his mouth to answer; she pushed past him to join the others. They had started to leave already, only Gimli remained behind. His stout figure relaxed as he watched her walk toward him. A grin passed his face.

"Glad you see you're alright, girl."

Her fathomless eyes looked through him once, then to the others walking away from them, "Glad to see they've waited for me. How polite."

The Dwarf chucked at her dry humor. Legolas studied them both before turning to follow the Fellowship.

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It was not until much later that it was revealed to her where they were heading. Apparently, while she was buried under the snow, they had decided to go through mines. Gimli chattered on about the beauty of these mines, the Mines of Moria, and his cousin who resided there.

They walked in mist and night; mountains surrounded them until, at last, they reached a long side of stone. Gimli started to tap it with his axe every few feet. Trinity threw him a questioning glance.

"Dwarf walls are invisible when closed," he explained.

"Yes, Gimli, even their masters cannot find them," Gandalf continued for him, "if they're secrets are forgotten."

"Why doesn't that surprise me," Legolas murmured with a look of slight arrogance.

Trinity smirked and the Hobbits sniggered with amusement; Gimli only grunted with annoyance. Gandalf broke away then, running his elderly hands over engraved markings in the stone with great care. He whispered something she did not hear, and the moon broke through the clouds.

The markings in the mountain ignited, set aflame by blue light and the effect left her slightly awed. She attempted to keep her face impassive, but knew anyone watching her intently could clearly see the moment of wonder pass her face. Boromir and Legolas did, and both stored the memory in the depths of their minds for a greater occasion.

"It reads," said Gandalf aloud, pointing to the words in the arch with his staff, "the doors of Duilin, Lord of Moria. Speak 'friend' and enter."

"What do you 'spose that means?" called Merry from his spot her.

"Well, it's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open."

With dramatized gestures, the old wizard pointed his staff at the door and his powerful voice boomed out a few verses. Nothing. He stepped back and raised his arms, shouting another phrase at the stone door. When his arms dropped, an uncomfortable silence took place.

Pippin broke it, "Nothing's happening."

Gandalf blinked before he pressed himself against the wall in a desperate attempt to force its movement. Trinity felt an overwhelming urge to say something sarcastic, but swallowed it. Instead, she exchanged an impatient glance with Pippin as the wizard mumbled his displeasure.

"What are you going to do, then?" Pippin asked innocently.

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took," Gandalf snapped, "And if that does not shatter them, then I am at least at a little peace from foolish questions. I will try to find the opening words."

The first hour she could tolerate, but not the second. Trinity wandered off into a slightly forested area to the east, knowing well that she would be followed. Aragorn did not yet trust her. She considered him intelligent for that. Boromir chose to track her, his breath irregular and loud to even her ears, which seemed so deaf to everything else.

It was a long while before he made his presence known and she, not wanting to spoil all his fun, allowed him to capture her wrist in his hand. His grip was tight and painful, but she refused to flinch. Brown eyes undressed her as they surveyed the curves of her body.

Two cerulean eyes watched them carefully from a safe distance away. Keen ears listened carefully to the scene and a troubled conscience attempted to provide enough reason to come between the two.

Legolas did not have the chance.

"So beautiful," whispered the man, his free hand reaching to touch her cheek.

Trinity caught his wrist easily and they stood there for several moments, held by each other. Not a word passed between them, though his eyes wrote volumes, hers said nothing. Boromir smiled that egotistical smile, which said clearly what he meant to do. And he apparently did not need her permission to do it. She warned him with her eyes, but to no avail.

He slammed her against a tree, hands on either side of her head, body pinning hers effectively.

And then, his lips were on her mouth, the tight cloth chocker around her throat.

Legolas sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

Trinity turned to unresponsive stone beneath his touch, staring ahead with empty eyes, mouth slightly opened. His hands felt her torso crudely, cold leather against colder skin.

One of his hands reached for her leggings, the other for cloth around her neck.

Her knee connected with his groin and he grunted before stumbling away from her. Trinity drew a few steady breaths, her eyes steely as they studied him. Boromir glared at her, teeth clenched in undisguised pain. She folded her arms across her chest and prepared for the verbal attack. The thought of her earlier attire came to his mind.

"You dress like a man, but that does not make you a warrior," he gasped through the waves of pain in his belly, "You accompany us, but that does not make you part of the Fellowship."

He seemed to collect himself for a moment, and then: "You're nothing. A woman, a whore, taunting with words and actions, yet unwilling to do her duty."

Legolas' jaw tightened, but he did not interfere.

Through the entire stream of accusations, Trinity mere stood there. He slung insults at her, she was a whore, meant to lie down and take money. She was a demon, a seductress who could not perform. Everything insulting he could think of, she had become.

Her eyebrows rose, "Are you done?"

With nothing left to say, nothing left to offend her with, he nodded.

"Good," she admonished, then tilted her head to the side.

"Now it's my turn," she continued, "You are egotistical, but scared, nothing more than a sorry little boy looking for glory that does not exist. You are the favorite of your kingdom, the hero, but here you are not. Easily seduced, by a ring, and a woman who doesn't want you, you do not even recognize yourself."

She leaned down to look into his eyes.

"You have my greatest sympathy," she whispered, "But nothing more."

As she righted herself, she paused suddenly and looked in the direction Legolas hid. A small, knowing smirk crossed her features before she walked away, leaving a humiliated Boromir and a confused Legolas in her wake. He felt slightly uneasy, as though someone was trying to reach him. A muffled voice, choked by something larger.

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Gandalf sat down heavily, "It's hopeless."

Trinity entered the clearing, and turned just in time to spot Legolas join them. An almost amused expression crossed her face, but faded at once. With a soft sigh, she settled next to the wizard, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Boromir emerged from the trees, looking irritated, but not wounded in the least. Frodo rose and stared at the door with searching eyes.

"It's a riddle," said the Hobbit, "Speak 'friend' and enter…what's the Elvish word for friend?"

"Mellonamin," he replied, enunciating deeply.

A low rumbling announced the opening of the heavy stone doors. They stood at once, mouths open slightly. One by one, they entered the dark space. Along the wall, lined up, were piles of bones. Trinity saw them clearly in the darkness, white bones glimmering.

Lost souls screaming.

The others did not see, did not hear.

Gimli droned on, "Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves. Roaring fires, malt beer, red meat off the bone!"

Legolas made a face of disgust.

"This, my friend," Grimli said proudly, "is the home of my cousin, and they call it a mine. A mine!"

The moonlight revealed the skeletons, Boromir observed them with a creased brow.

"This is no mine; it's a tomb," he replied with a sickened expression.

One of the Hobbits began to panic; Trinity could hear his breath increase rapidly. The others seemed to follow their example, and Gimli cried out in sorrow.

"No!"

No.

"No!"

Flames licking. Too much sorrow.

Legolas pulled an arrow out of one corpse, inspecting the tip.

"Goblins," he murmured, drawing his bow.

Aragorn and Boromir armed themselves as well. Trinity pulled the twin swords from her belt.

Boromir deemed himself the leader, "We make for the Gap of Rohan, We should never have come here."

Trinity glanced back at the four Halflings, who where moving toward the entrance of the doors. A gasp was cut short.

And then there were only three.

"Aragorn," Trinity cried, running after Frodo and the beast that stole him.

She pushed her was past the Hobbits, knocking Sam to the ground in her haste. Above her, Frodo dangling from what appeared to be a tentacle, crying for assistance. Without thought, she waded into the water and began to hack at anything remotely similar to its appearance.

Aragorn and Boromir joined her, slicing through the monster's limbs with ease and acute precision. An arrow jammed itself into the tentacle that held Frodo. Something slid against her ankle.

She already knew what would happen next.

"Ah, Fu-" her words were choked with water as the beast dragged her down.

Already, she had been knocked down twice.

You do not back down ever!

It was Boromir who saved her, despite their minor argument; he could not allow something to kill her. The blade cut through the monster's slimly limb easily and his hand reached for her upper arm. As his fingers wrapped around it, he secretly marveled at the strength, the muscle, he felt. Judging by her form, he would have never guessed her to be that strong.

She burst to the surface, not choking or gasping. No sputter left her lips, for she had been intelligent enough to hold her breath the moment she felt the dreadful thing touch her ankle. Rather, that was what she would tell him later, if he so happened to ask.

Boromir gripped her wrist, leading her past the doors once again, and behind them, the ceiling crashed down.

They were trapped in the dark.