Part the Ninth: How It Really Happened

In a saner part of the scene, Gandalf threw his staff down on the ground. "It's no use," he groaned. "The doors won't open."

Legolas sat down next to Aragorn. "Why doesn't Gimli call on his family to open the gates for us?" he said, snidely, in Elvish.

"Let's be serious, Legolas," Aragorn replied, unconsciously using the same tongue. "For an elf as old as you are, you don't act very mature."

"An elf any older than I would have had less recklessness, more common sense, and wouldn't even be on this excursion," retorted Legolas.

"Then why didn't your brother come?" Aragorn asked.

"Sterransen did not come because Lord Elrond favors the number nine," Legolas answered, without missing a beat. "What mystical associations that number has, I don't know."

A shadow fell over them (or what passed for a shadow in the dim place) as Boromir walked up with Gimli by his side. "I hate when you do that," he grouched.

"Do what?" Legolas and Aragorn looked up and answered in unison. Aragorn curious, and Legolas with a mischievous grin, because he knew what was bothering the human.

"Talk in Elvish. It's not only rude, it's impolite."

There was a pause. "Aren't rude and impolite the same thing?" Aragorn said finally. Legolas and Gimli were struggling to keep back laughter.

Boromir considered this. "Well, you shouldn't talk in Elvish. The rest of us can't understand what you're saying. It's not only rude, it's discourteous."

Gimli let out a guffaw and walked off.

"The man is only semi-literate," Legolas said to Aragorn, in Elvish.

"Am not," countered Boromir.

Astonished, Legolas said, "You don't speak Elvish, Boromir…"

"Yes, I do," Boromir said, smiling smugly. "I can understand everything you guys are saying."

"Which is why only half a minute ago you were complaining about how you couldn't understand Aragorn and I."

"Well, I…" Seeing that he had lost the argument, Boromir stamped off to join Gandalf.

Aragorn was saying something (in Elvish) but Legolas wasn't listening - he was watching Gandalf, who had picked up his staff again, and was gesturing rudely at the doors, shouting Dwarvish words. Legolas strongly suspected he was cursing.

"Gandalf," he called over, "I don't believe that swearing at the doors will cause them to open."

"Have you a suggestion, then?" Gandalf bellowed back sarcastically, in Elvish. "If you're so clever, you're welcome to it, my friend."

There was a grinding noise behind the wizard, as the gates to Moria glowed brightly, and rumbled open.

-fin part nine-

Apologies for the short chapter. Evil, evil writer's block.

Thanks to: Amancirith Carangarien, Forestsilver, ThePet, and Godforsaken.