A Note From the Author: Your reviews make me so happy! Thanks for the support, it is definitely a wonderful feeling to know that other people are enjoying this little project as much as I am enjoying it. Unfortunately, I have to let you all know that this will be the last chapter for about a week, which means I must break my quick-updating pattern. Since it is the new year soon, and I have some extensive plans with friends, I won't be online or writing as much as I have been in the last month. Don't despair! I'll return soon after the new year. Happy New Year to you all!
. . .
Ch. 12 Dances with Wolves
Aila's cheek rested against rough fabric and she was warm and comfortable. Her fingers were twisted in the fur lining of a cloak, grasping tightly so as not to lose their hold on the warm fur. A pair of arms held her securely in place in her comfortable seat and for a long time she did not want to move. Legolas' chin rested on the crown of her head and she felt his chest rise and fall smoothly with each slow breath. However, she was quickly betrayed by the stirrings of the rest of the Company, and Legolas loosened his tight embrace and pulled her slightly away from him to look at her face.
"Awake?" he asked, his eyebrows slightly raised, and she could see that there was something of an overly pleased expression on his face. Smug, actually.
"Awake," she confirmed, yawning, and settled away from him to sit on her own. Cold air washed against the skin which had only moments ago been warm. "The faster we retreat from this dread mountain, the better, I say, Aragorn." The Company gathered themselves together and began to survey the cold morning and their surroundings, which still lay covered in a thick blanket of snow. The snow drifts were so high that there was no hope that the hobbits could pass through unaided. It was apparent to them all, however, that they must retreat from the mountain.
"If Gandalf would go before us with a bright flame, he might melt a path for you," said Legolas, and his tone was light and playful, a smile upon his lips. He alone of the company remained largely unaffected by the storm and some source of pride lightened his heart and mood. His blue eyes twinkled, but the rest all looked back at him with sour expressions.
"If Elves could fly over mountain, they might fetch the Sun to save us," replied Gandalf bitterly, slamming his staff into the nearest snowdrift. It disappeared more than five feet into the snow. After some time and discussion, Boromir suggested that he force a path, with Aragorn, and the two Men swiftly departed the Company to make their way through the snow: Aragorn, tall and strong, and Boromir, shorter but thick and powerful.
"The strongest must seek a way, say you?" said Legolas, still with that playful expression on his face. He cast a look to Aila, his eyebrows raised and his lips parted in a broad, arrogant smile. She tried not to scowl at his expression, and pulled her cloak about her again against the cold. "But I say: let a ploughman plough, but choose an otter for swimming, and for running light over grass and leaf, or over snow – an Elf." At that, he sprang atop the snow and began to run lightly away, following after the Men, and Aila saw that he wore only light shoes. She thought darkly about how unaffected he had been by the storm, which made her feel even more inadequate at her own poor display at toughing through the cold.
After an hour, the two strong Men returned, having forced a manageable path through the snow. They each picked up a hobbit, Merry and Pippin respectively, and with the hobbits on their backs, the Men turned again to force their way through the snow. It was not a long path, as the snow was largely piled up in the few hundred yards behind them, and then the snow swiftly declined in volume until it was hardly a light powder on the path. The Men returned a second time, Boromir put Sam on his back and Aragorn did the same with Frodo, and Gimli was perched atop the packs on Bill the pony's back. But Aila insisted on forcing her own way through in their wake, though the snow still came well above her knees. She didn't think she could live with the embarrassment of being carried piggy-back, or allowing anyone to help her when she was a full-bodied and able person. It was, of course, a mighty struggle and she set her face in hard determination, but she was not slight-bodied and managed to force her way through tolerably. Legolas hovered above her, watching carefully from atop the snow pack and his constant presence drove her to greater strength, as he walked lightly on top of the snow she struggled through.
The entire Company made it down the mountain in much less time than it had taken them to climb up it. When they stopped for a meal and to rest, they were farther south than their starting point up the mountain had been. They all sat together in a rough circle, as if there was an unspoken understanding that they each needed to participate in an important discussion – which they did. Gandalf began shortly, laying out their various options for continuing in their journey. They could not return to Rivendell and as such fail in their quest – this was not an option acceptable to any of them, but Aila saw that Sam's face was momentarily mournful. More quickly than Aila had expected, their conversation turned to Moria.
"The road may lead to Moria, but how can we hope that it will lead through Moria?" asked Aragorn darkly when Gandalf had suggested that path.
"It is a name of ill omen," agreed Boromir, shaking his head as he looked at the barren ground in the center of their circle. Though he sat, his hand still found comforting purchase on the Horn. "Nor do I see the need to go there." And he presently suggested they travel, instead, to the south and pass through the Gap of Rohan, but even before he had finished his speech, Gandalf's head was shaking.
"Did you not hear what I told you of Saruman? The Ring must not come near to Isengard, if that can by any means be prevented. The Gap of Rohan is closed to us while we go with the Bearers."
Legolas' sharp ears identified the plural. "Saruman the White can have no business at all with Aila. What concern is she of his?"
"I think that we would be foolish to give him opportunity to know anything about her. I am quite certain that, if knowledgeable of her powers and prophecy, he could not want her to live to oppose him or to provide the Elves, whom he would enslave, safe haven."
Aila put a despairing hand to her cheek and cast down her eyes to look at her feet, and after a moment looked back up at Gandalf. The wizard was looking earnestly at her. "So it seems I become a further hindrance upon this Fellowship." She was surprised, then, when Gandalf laughed, though his eyes were still grim.
"You are wrong to think that you have served no purpose, and that you will not continue to serve an even more important one." He would not say another word on the subject, but instead asked of Moria: "The question is: who will follow me, if I lead you there?"
"I will," said Gimli eagerly, and in his eyes shone an intense and glittering fire. "I will go and look on the halls of Durin, whatever may wait there – if you can find the Doors that are Shut."
After a silence, Aragorn said heavily: "I will. You followed my lead almost to disaster in the snow, and have said no word of blame. I will follow your lead now."
"I will not go," immediately replied Boromir, and Aila thought the way he crossed his arms over his chest seemed quite haughty. "Not unless the vote of the whole company is against me. What do Legolas and the little folk say? And what does the lady say? Does her power of prophecy direct our movements now, and why shouldn't it, if she had such knowledge?" Aila's thoughts froze, half-formed, and she struggled to force them to flow again. She did not want to have such a meaningful impact on the Company and its movements, and she was struggling to think what she should do or say. Could she direct them to Moria? They must, after all, make the Mines over the next day or so, if she could remember properly. But her mind wasn't functioning and she couldn't remember. She thought hours had passed, but after a few moments pause, Legolas responded in her stead,
"I do not wish to go to Moria." His blue eyes looked at her pleadingly, as though he hoped she would magically produce another path. She looked mournfully back at him. This Elf, who had protected her, she would have to lead down into Moria.
Frodo, who had remained silent for a long time, finally spoke. "I do not wish to go, but neither do I wish to refuse the advice of Gandalf. I fear that Aila knows our path, but cannot say, and thus that she means we must go down into Moria. But I beg that there should be no vote until we have slept on it. Gandalf will get votes easier in the light of the morning than in this cold gloom. How the wind howls!"
"How the wind howls?" cried Aragorn, leaping to his feet, and his hand went immediately to his sword hilt though he did not draw it out. "That is no wind!"
"The hunt is up!" responded Gandalf, also standing quickly, gripping his staff tightly in both hands. The rest of the party got to their feet as quickly as they could, and Aila rose to her feet in an ungainly fashion and stood awkwardly, unsure what to do. "Even if we live to see the dawn, who now will wish to journey south by night with the wild wolves on his trail?"
The Company retreated quickly to a nearby hill, huddling together at its crest, which was circled with large boulders. Legolas had a hand on Aila's arm and kept her always between himself and Aragorn. In the center of the crested hill, they built a fire, knowing that there was no hope that silence and darkness would hide them from the hunting packs, and that fire, at least, might be used against the hunting wolves. They sat anxiously around the fire, Aila still between Legolas and Aragorn, and the Elf's hand stayed firmly on her arm. After only half an hour of waiting, a great wolf appeared, standing at a space between two rocks, his terrifying figure casting long shadows against the moon and firelight. A shuddering howl escaped his throat, as a captain would call his company to the attack, and the sound of it shook Aila, forced her eyes wide in fear and stopped the beating of her heart momentarily.
Equally terrifying, a shout rose from within their camp: "Listen, Hound of Sauron," and it was Gandalf, lifting his staff aloft, diagonal and held as a shield before him. His voice was loud and demanding, echoing so that he sounded as if he occupied the entire space of the night. "Gandalf is here! Fly, if you value your foul skin! I will shrivel you from tail to snout, if you come within this ring." His voice was loud and frightful. Legolas pulled Aila to stand and turned her so that her back was to the fire. She had been looking into the fire before, and the light still danced before her eyes, making it impossible to see anything around her in the darkness. Her blindness panicked her and cold sweat formed on her brow.
She heard the wolf snarl in response, taking no heed to the wizard's loud words, and he lowered his head, hackles rising over sharp yellow teeth and his ears lay flat against his head. He took a slow and purposeful step forward, the claws of his foot just breaking the circle that the rocks formed. A sharp twang came from behind her, and Aila realized immediately that Legolas' hand was no longer on her arm. The wolf fell, shuddering, with a thump to the ground, and Legolas' elven arrow grew unnaturally out of his throat. Aragorn and Boromir strode forward into the darkness, taking a quick sweep of the circle of stones, swords at the ready, but the hill was deserted. The wolves had fled the carcass of their captain.
As he returned, Aragorn re-sheathed his sword and said to them, "It is best that we try to get some rest while we can. In the morning we will flee to the Doors of Moria." The Ranger took first watch, along with Gandalf, and the two strode a tight perimeter around the rest of the Company and the fire at the center. Aila laid down as close to the fire as she could, despite its incredible warmth. Legolas sat down beside her, putting his back against the fire and Aila behind him, and she knew that he would not sleep while he watched for the wolves. She forced herself to close her eyes and, with wild thoughts of wolf-mouths slathered in spit, she fell into a fitful sleep. As she slipped into unconsciousness, she felt Legolas' hand again upon her upper arm, but instead of tight and commanding, it was soft and comforting. She wondered if she was able to smile at him before she fell asleep.
. . .
Aila jolted awake as terrifying howls filled the air from all sides of the hill. Her heart beat swiftly and leapt into her throat and her face was sweating from sitting so close to the fire, though her palms were sticky and cold. Legolas no longer sat in front of her and she could not see where he had gone. She struggled to her feet, her movements were muddy and listless, and she tried to force the panic out of her mind so that she could think clearly. To her left, she saw the hobbits waking with fear and she immediately rushed to them to help them up, all other half-formed ideas forgotten for the moment. As soon as the hobbits stood, they each drew their short swords, or long knives as it were, and put their backs to the fire anxiously.
"Fling fuel on the fire!" Gandalf cried to them, and as they scrambled to find firewood, he added, "Draw your blades!" As Aila reached for her sword, however, she saw that Gandalf was instantly at her side and he stayed her hand. "Do not use Núadin until you must, Aila. I fear spreading knowledge of its presence, and yours, in this company." She nodded, and he strode away, but her hand still rested on the hilt of the sword. She felt a soft vibration, as though the sword were inaudibly humming, trilling and calling to her. A thought deep in her mind told her to use it, that she was meant to wield the sword. But she could not ignore the words of Gandalf and knew that his fears made sense. She instead drew the long knife that Glorfindel had given her. The sight of it in her hand terrified her more than the howls that still filled the air. It was long but still only the length of her forearm and hand, from the tips of her fingers to her elbow, and the thought of using it to fight off large wolves was nearly incapacitating her with terror.
Aragorn grabbed her hand and pulled her to stand between himself and Boromir, and both the Men had fierce expressions and held their swords in a menacing manner. As she watched, a host of wolves appeared and sprinted at the members of the Company. As the wolves advanced, a heavy rain of arrows expertly fell upon them, piercing throats and hearts, and Legolas had felled many wolves before the beasts had reached any other. Aila wondered that there weren't ten archers in the trees rather than one. Between Boromir and Aragorn she was not challenged to use her knife, and was glad for it, but the fighting Men became so engaged in their battle dance that she quickly became separated from them, and so, knees shaking, she put her back to the fire and brandished her woefully inadequate knife.
She was quickly seen by one of the wolves, and he stalked closer to her, snarling and circling. Aila backpedalled until the heat of the fire on her back was too intense and she knew she was too close to it already. She brandished her knife in what she thought was a menacing way, but the growl of the wolf sounded hauntingly like laughter. After a few agonizing moments, the wolf leapt, opening its wet jaws to attack her. Desperately, she thrust the knife at him, forgetting entirely the maneuvers Glorfindel had taught her in her fear, and the wolf dodged her attack easily, and his jaws clamped down on her left forearm, which she had lifted to block her face and throat. The power and weight of the wolf dragged her down, and she fell to her knees, glancing briefly into the yellow eyes of the beast whose teeth tore through the skin of her arm. He looked back at her with an evil expression. He jerked his head, bringing her arm with him, and his teeth tore through her skin and blood sprang readily to wet his tongue. She was momentarily blinded with pain, and that pain gave rise to righteous anger. Her anger frothed in her mouth and singed her nostrils, replicated in the heat against her back. She gritted her teeth and felt nothing but supreme infuriation. She raised her right arm again and drove the knife deep into his neck, all the way to its hilt. She had driven it with such force that the tip of her knife was exposed again from the other side of his neck. The wolf gave a surprised noise, gurgling and growling in pain. Aila gripped the handle of her knife tightly and jerked it toward her with as much force as she could muster, and its blade tore through soft interior tissue in the wolf's throat. The wolf gave a disgusting gurgle that horrified her and he fell dead to the ground.
Some twenty or thirty feet from her, Aila saw Gandalf grow to an impossible size, and he wielded a flaming bough and strode in impossibly long steps to the outer circle of rocks. The wizard raised the flaming bough high in the air and he cried an incantation, his voice was again loud and terrible. The entire grove of trees burst into flame and ash fell on the Company like a heavy rain. The wolf-chieftain stepped now into the interior of the crested hill, her fur stood up along the ridge of her back, yellow teeth bared, and ears flat against her skull. Her frame was enormous and her paws were larger and longer than they should have been on a normal wolf. Upon seeing her, Legolas retrieved his last arrow from his quiver and, stringing it, his bow sang one last sweet note. The arrow flew true, alighting on its deadly path, and thudded, flame extinguished on impact, into the wolf-chieftain's heart. The mighty wolf fell and upon seeing the burning carcass of their chief, the rest of the wolves fled, howling and yammering.
Knowing that the fight was over, Aila turned back to her attempts to release her left forearm from the death-grip of the wolf she had killed. She bent to this task for only a fraction of a second when she heard Legolas cry, "Ai!" and he rushed toward her. But as he put his hands to the wolf's jaw to try to loose it, she pushed him roughly back with her right hand, the anger in her chest still frothing and boiling. The Elf looked at her with surprise and anguish, but she ignored him and turned back to working her fingers between the wolf's teeth, prying its jaws apart. She managed to inch it open and was able to just barely pull her arm from its jaw. Legolas' hands were immediately once more on her arm, desperately tearing the fabric of her sleeve back and examining the wounds in her skin. Pain rushed up and it washed away the anger it had originally given rise to, and as the wall of anger gave way to that flood of pain, she felt weak and did not push Legolas away again. She sat wordlessly as she allowed him, and Aragorn who followed quickly after, to look at her arm.
The Ranger quickly tore the forearm of her sleeve entirely off and, after washing the wounds with water she begged him not to spare, he wound the make-shift bandage tightly around her arm, and small blossoms of blood immediately began forming through the fabric. As he finished this, Merry's voice suddenly rose in a cry of shock, and as they looked to the spot where he pointed, they saw the wolf which Aila had killed was nowhere to be seen. The blade that Glorfindel had given her lay forgotten on the ground and had not a spot of blood on it. Legolas stood quickly and ran swiftly about the hill, finding only arrows that had found their marks but which now lay lonely and singular on the ground.
"It is as I feared," said Gandalf, leaning heavily against his staff. His voice was strong but somewhat breathless. "These were no ordinary wolves hunting for food in the wilderness. The Wargs have come west of the Mountains! Let us eat quickly and go! We must reach the gates by sunset."
The Company went forward with a will, as it seemed ill-fate to all of them to be trapped between wall and wolves in the open night. Aila cradled her injured arm against her chest, hooking her fingers around her collar so that her forearm stayed cushioned in a stationary position between her breasts. And she walked swiftly, fearing another confrontation with the Wargs, but also fearing that each step brought her closer to Moria.
. . .
Ai! = an exclamation, high emotion
