I'm sorry, Legolas isn't very evil in this chapter :p He will be much more evil soon…
Legolas was checking his horse's legs—all sound, and that was a good thing—when the Calling came.
He could always tell when he was Called. The crystal that was resting against his skin went red hot, almost to the point of burning.
Carefully putting Thalion's hoof back on the ground (he didn't want the stallion going lame when he'd got through that vicious fight unscathed) Legolas walked a little way into the thicket and fished the crystal out of his tunic. He held it enclosed in his hand, long thong dangling towards the ground. "New Orders from the Higher?" the Elf said softly, ears straining to try and pick up any hint of a noise that might indicate an approaching fellowship member; and a threat.
"Orders, yes" rasped the croaky voice of Crickhen, sounding weirdly distorted through the Latsync Trysanc. "But first, your report"
Legolas sighed, but spoke. "All is well here, and going according to plan… Crickhen, if you just let me kill them and retrieve the ring, it would be so much easier—"
"We have been through this, Elfling." Snapped the Wizard. "And still the answer is no. Even if you did manage to overcome all the other members of this Fellowship," he twisted the word into a curse "I do not trust you with the Ring. You are… unreliable."
"If I am so unreliable why did you send me?" snapped Legolas, frustrated. He was fed up with all this procrastinating; the job could be done so easily!
"We've been through this! It was a misguided judgement on the Higher's part, but what is done is done and there is no going back so you will have to do." Crickhen sighed.
"What is that that you wish me to do, then?" asked the Elf. I'm going to enjoy watching you die, wizard. You will pay dearly for what you have put me through.
"You are still going into Moria?" at Legolas' assent, Crickhen continued. "Good. An ambush is planned. There is only one way through the mines that Gandalf knows about, and we have stationed several hundred orcs at the far exit. Your job is to see to it that Gandalf takes the right path, one that should lead you through the great Hall
"Kill away, Legolas. Just watch out for that ring." And then he was gone.
Bastard Legolas thought, picking his way carefully out of the thicket.
(MORIA)
It seemed that Gandalf the almighty wise wizard was lost. The Fellowship had journeyed through the dank darkness of Moria for what seemed to Legolas like an age. He was a woodland creature who loved the clear outdoors and to be thus enclosed was painful for him.
Huddling down besides a cracked and broken pillar he watched Gandalf. The Wizard was sitting, pipe lit, staring at a juncture in their path that split off into two different directions. Legolas cursed silently, the darkness was pressing; Gandalf was taking too long in his deliberations and to make matters worse, Gimli the dwarf had set up camp next to Legolas and was enthusiastically trying to engage the Elf in a conversation about the Dwarvish realm.
"You know, Master Elf, as I was saying earlier, the great realm and city of Dwarrowdelf was once the greatest, most affluent mine in all of Middle Earth, full of light and splendour! You could say it was the very pinnacle of dwarfdom… gold, silver, precious jewels, all flowed out of here in their masses. Though of course it was mithril that really made the wealth of Moria… a great vein flows through this mountain-- pure mithril of the utmost value! Aye, this really was a place of riches!"
"If that is the really the case, then why are we sitting here atop broken buildings when I quite clearly remember you promising us feasts and fanfares from your cousins" Legolas replied snidely, the dwarf annoyed him.
"Aye, well…" Gimli shrugged uncomfortably. "You see…"
Legolas suddenly felt a burning sensation in his chest and his eyes flared. A sudden understanding washed over him… see to it that Gandalf takes the right path… "Mithrandir" Legolas jumped to his feet. "We must take the right fork, I feel that is the way!"
"Hmm?" Gandalf came out of his reverie. "The right path you say? Yes… yes of course it is! How silly of me to forget! The way leads up… of course! Well done master Elf… this way everyone!"
Legolas smiled as he followed the wizard up the steep steps of the passage. He knew where these stairs lead, and he knew what awaited them at the top. Gandalf didn't know it but he was leading the Fellowship to their doom…
The passage widened out into a large cavern with wide carved pillars I rows along the edge. It was dark and still and very… dead. Yes, a dead civilisation. Legolas felt uncomfortable, and he could see from the shadowy expressions and faint shifting of his companions that he wasn't the only one who felt this way.
"So quiet…" Gimli whispered, "Where are my people? Where are Balin's folk?" he walked forward, and then suddenly looked down and scooped something off the floor. "An orcish arrow… no! It cannot be! All of my cousins… slain?"
A faint noise, Legolas jerked his head. There it was again. A scrabbling, chittering... coming from above. He cast his eyes upward into the impenetrable dark.
"Legolas, you hear something?" Aragorn crossed to his side, tense, hand resting on his sword hilt. Legolas looked at him… so; this was Crickhen's ambush? Orcs in a enclosed space, and by the sounds of it many was their number. A sudden thought came to Legolas… he knew Crickhen, he knew what he wanted… he wanted Legolas to die here too in the confusion of the melee… and then… then he would take the Ring himself!
Well. That was not happening.
"We are not alone Aragorn. There are orcs, massing above. And they are not few in number."
"Orcs!" Aragorn hissed. He looked above and then back to Legolas. "How many?"
"Too many: hundreds at least. Aragorn" Legolas fixed him with a stare. "We cannot hope to win."
"Harrumph!" Gimli hefted his axe and glared around. "Let them come! There is still one dwarf standing in Moria! Let them feel the bit of my axe!"
"We must protect the ring bearer." Aragorn grabbed Frodo's shoulder and turned to Gandalf. "How far is the way out? Can we hope to outrun them?"
The sound was louder now, so even the men, with their weak senses, could here them. Slowly, they were advancing, crawling down the face of the pillars, still chittering, trying to psyche their enemies out. Legolas nocked an arrow to his bow, mentally calculating the number of his foes.
He shuddered at the thought of them near the One Ring. Filthy, corrupted mockeries of life! Orcs! There was no lower life form. He would kill them!! Kill them all before they tried to lay their disgusting paws on the Ring!
"Gandalf?!" Aragorn cried. Boromir had his sword ready, Gimli growled in anticipation and even the hobbits, small, almost useless as they were, were grimly holding their daggers, facing the enemy down.
The Wizard, who had been standing quite still, his head tilted to one side, suddenly jerked. He stared at the others, his eyes wild and staring; afraid. "Run…" he croaked. "The orcs are not the enemy here…run!"
He snatched Pippin's arm and hauled him forward, when suddenly the ground shook with such a force that the members of the Fellowship were thrown to the ground. Aragorn leaped to his feet, snatching his sword, which had skittered away and pulling Frodo to his feet. He glanced wildly around, at a room suddenly much darker and colder than before.
The orcs clung to their pillars, or crouched on the floor, and hissed, no longer advancing, but retreating, scattering wildly. A much deadlier foe than they was approaching.
The Nine Companions had shakily regained their feet when the second shockwave hit them, the thunderclap accompanying it reverberating around the walls. Legolas managed to keep his feet but staggered drunkenly. He did not understand, was Crickhen trying to bring down the mountain on top of them? Was possible end would that achieve?
He felt the crystal against his neck blaze hot and the wizard's voice filled his head, louder, more powerful than before, filling his mind clouding his very thoughts… I COMMAND MORE THAN MERE ORCS TO MY WILL! WITNESS THE GREAT SHADOW OF MORIA!! SEE THE FLAME AND SHADOW OF DURIN'S BANE!
THE BALROG OF MORGOTH…MINE TO CONTROL! RUN LITTLE LEGOLAS; LET ME SEE YOU FLEE!
The sounds of the real world came rushing back in, the screams of the scattered orcs who strayed to close to that distant fiery shadow. Legolas watched in horror as the advancing darkness with its tongues of incandescent flame devoured the stricken creatures. He found himself unable to move, awe froze his muscles. Here, in front of him… Elfsbane.
He wanted to take it on… he wanted to beat it, yet Gandalf's voice came through the fog of his raging emotions, talking urgently to the group "You cannot beat this foe… it is beyond any of you… we must fly to the bridge of Khazad-dum.. there I will hold the pass.
Fly!"