Disclaimer is the same as in chapter one.
Author's note at the end.
"Hostile Takeover"-Chapter Thirteen: A Journey into Darkness
Bitter tears stung her eyes as Sally turned from Gandalf's cabin. She ran blindly into the woods for the second time on that cold, unfriendly day, but this time she didn't run away. She ran towards something with all the hope she had left in her to find.
Her steps faltered and she stopped. The trees seemed to look down at her like uncaring strangers. "Where.?" she asked them in a trembling voice. A horrible realization began to sink in. A crushing sense of helplessness pulled her to the ground. "Where do I go?!" she cried in despair.
She was lost. Frodo had left his Sam. She couldn't follow him. She didn't know the way. She sobbed, beating the ground with her fists. "Damn this memory!" she cried, cursing herself and all living things around her. "Nothing looks like it's supposed to."
"Centuries have passed since you last walked these trails," Gandalf said from behind her. "Much has changed here," he explained gently. "You have changed."
Sally looked up from the ground, a great darkness cast across her face. She did not welcome the sound of the wizard's voice. She suspected his work in the absence of her master. "You did this! Didn't you?!" she howled at him in fury. She twisted to face him, clawing at the dirt beneath her to lash out at him in her rage. "You made him go alone! Why?!?"
Gandalf did not move but he looked upon her with great pity. "You should know already," he said. "Your heart is willing but you will be weak. In the end your companionship will be more of a danger to him than a comfort."
"No," she whimpered at his feet.
"The Ring will seduce you."
She shook her head denying the words before the truth could sink in. "I don't care," she sobbed. "I can resist it." She would not allow herself to doubt. If she doubted then she could never follow him. If she couldn't follow him, then what purpose did her life hold?
Gandalf slammed the end of his staff into the ground near her head. "Samwise Gamgee!" he roared over her in a sudden fury designed to get her attention. "Look at yourself! You're human!"
Sally looked up at his overwhelming form with sullen eyes. "My body is," she admitted woundedly. "Perhaps my heart. But not my soul." She pulled herself up to her feet. She did not want to appear powerless or afraid before him. "You forget, wizard, I wore that Ring once. I've felt its power. I've heard its voice. Can you say the same?"
"No, I cannot," he replied calmly, "but can you deny the darkness that exists within you?" He stepped closer to her, looking down at her with cold eyes. "I know what you hide in your coat. The Samwise I remember would not have brought it to Middle Earth let alone hide it from his master."
Her eyes widened at his accusation but she could not deny it. She couldn't even properly explain it. "I was afraid," she said in a much smaller voice than before.
"You are ashamed," Gandalf observed. His gaze and posture softened before the sorrowful young woman. He could only imagine how the hobbit within her had weathered in the world she lived. Her loneliness rivaled Frodo's. "Even the purity of your soul could not keep you from the corruption of your world." He reached out and touched the point of her chin with his fingertips, a tender gesture for one whose pain he felt.
"It doesn't matter," she said grimacing. She struggled to hold back another wave of disabling tears. "Why else would I be here if not to be with him?"
Gandalf frowned and his hand left her face. She only saw her significance in the role of servant. She didn't know how truly important her presence really was. He brought his hands together around his staff and he looked at her carefully. "Why do you think he chose now to destroy the Ring?"
Sally flinched. She had not expected the question. She thought the answer was obvious. "Because of Saruman," she replied.
The wizard shook his head and almost chuckled. His old foe had filled the role of bogeyman well enough that she never questioned her master's reasoning. But Saruman was merely a convenient excuse. "He could have destroyed Saruman with a thought," he said, dismissing the notion with a wave of his hand. He stepped closer to her and his eyes locked with hers. "It was you. Your returning. He could not bear the thought of you living in a world where the Ring still existed."
Sally's tears fell silently at the profound realization.
Gandalf looked away to a bird taking flight. Something in her expression made her difficult to face. "No one counted on that. Not even me. You were always so demonstrative of your devotion to him. No one could see how much he loved you in return."
Her breaths came in short quavering sobs. She shut her eyes but the tears would not stop. She felt Gandalf's arms encircle her. Softly, his words continued to fall upon her ears. She could not shut them out. Her insignificance was tantamount to her reality, to her sense of self. But to hear this, shattered all that. In her world she could not be this important. "All that he has done, he has done for you. Destroying the Ring is not something he is doing for himself. It is not for the world. It is for your sake and your sake alone."
His hand cupped her cheek and he turned her face up to his. She looked at him unwillingly, shamed by her weakness, humbled by her greatness. "As much as he loves you and as much as you love him, you cannot go with him now," he said gently. "The Ring will take that love and turn it against you, destroying what is good in you both to assure its continued existence."
Sally began to pull away. She knew the wisdom of Gandalf's words and she could feel uncertainty begin to build within her. These must have been the same arguments he had used on Frodo that caused him to leave without her. They had begun to work on her. She shook her head to shake away her doubt. She couldn't let him win. He had to be forgetting something, something that would convince him that they were meant to be together. "I know what that Ring can do," she said trying to build a confidence in her voice that she had misplaced. "It lures you with promises of power and glory. I've seen it. But it will have no sway over me. I don't care what it offers. I don't want it. All I care about is him. I was with him before. I alone know what he faces. I'm the only one who can help him."
Gandalf sighed heavily. The depth of Sally's feelings touched him greatly but he remained unmoved on his resolve. Each believed that they knew what was best for the Ringbearer but their conflicting views only brought them to a stalemate.
But they were not alone. Legolas emerged from the trees and stood before them both. He had heard their heated argument and allowed them the illusion of privacy but no longer. He could no longer remain silent. "There is divine purpose in her presence here. She performs a sacred duty that is so powerful that it should not be denied." He faced Gandalf with a princely pride and spoke with a wisdom he had earned over centuries of life. "If you will not lead her to Moria, then I shall."
For several moments, no one spoke or moved. Gandalf fixed them with a fierce gaze, silently damning them as fools. Then he turned his back on them and leaned heavily on his staff. "So be it," he said gravely. "Let us hope that love shall conquer all."
Sally let out a long breath, feeling relieved and frightened all at once. She stepped towards the wizard and placed her hand on his shoulder. She could feel the old man tense at her touch. "Thank you," she said timidly. "I won't fail him."
Sally had begun to follow Legolas away when Gandalf's booming voice called out to her. "Sally." She stopped but did not turn to face him. "Be brave.but not too brave."
She shook at the warning. "I understand," she replied quietly. She swallowed her fears and dismissed her doubts and followed the elf into the woods.
Gandalf listened to their footsteps as they faded in the distance. In that instant he felt very old, as if all the many years of his life piled upon him one by one adding their weight to his soul. He really had no certainty that Frodo would have succeeded without Sally but foreknowledge had haunted him from the moment he saw her face.
Frodo loved her with all the unspoken words he had kept for Sam. The Ring knew that and before he would reach Mount Doom, it would use that love against him. Out of love for Sally, Frodo would wield the Ring again.
* * *
The darkness of Moria enveloped Frodo like a blanket, covering sight, sound and even breath. He saw only the way before him illuminated by his torchlight and heard only the sound of his own steps. The air was thick and close and when he breathed deeply he could taste the scent of distant fires. He welcomed the muting of his senses and hoped that it would bring peace to his mind. Though many years had passed since he walked these tunnels, he knew them well. This time he walked alone.
'To be a Ringbearer is to be alone.' He had once believed that Galadriel's words were a warning but now he saw her true intent. She was instructing him. A warning can be dismissed, as he had dismissed it when he let Sam go with him into Mordor. He had learned his lesson then. With Sally, he had begun to forget. He must be alone. No one can understand his pain. No one could see his burden. With the Ring gone, all that would disappear with it. No more suffering. No more fear. No more.
Morbidly, he believed that his new train of thought would quicken his step. He should look forward to the end of his quest but he walked slowly. His pace was slowed by the heaviness of his heart. He missed Sally.
Frodo stopped suddenly in his tracks. His sadness was momentarily forgotten as the hair on the back of his neck bristled with anticipation. He sensed movement ahead of him though he saw and heard nothing.
A deep voice bellowed from the pitch around him. "Ho! Who goes forth in this darkness without our leave?!" The dwarves had discovered him.
"Only I," Frodo called out.
A dwarf stepped into the light of his torch, allowing himself to be seen. He held his axe across his chest as a show of strength and courage to the intruder to their home. "Who might you be, little man?" he asked in challenge.
"I am not a man," Frodo replied. He held his arms open to reveal that he carried no weapon, to show he posed no threat. "I am Frodo, the Ringbearer."
The dwarf relaxed his grip on his axe and stepped closer into the light. "Aye. The elf gave word that you would come through," he said nodding. He extended his hand in welcome. A gesture Frodo readily accepted. "I am Gorin, son of Olog. Come. We've been waiting for you."
Gorin led Frodo a distance through the tunnels to a large opening where several dwarves had set up camp. The dwarves did not make a habit of dwelling in the caverns and tunnels towards the entrance. They had little need to venture away from their city except in small hunting parties. Their distrust of the outside world had grown to a point of intense xenophobia. Where once they held only elves in low regard they now cared nothing for any of the other races. The elves were little more than a nuisance, passing through Moria like silent spirits coming to and from Middle Earth and the world of man.
Humans, they abhorred above all others for their brazen and misguided willingness to live in a world of evil. Though they had not seen a man in centuries they had fixed their likeness in their minds and took upon themselves the responsibility of keeping humanity's darkness from tainting Middle Earth.
Hobbits existed only in legend. Only one hobbit lived in the world and all in Moria knew him.
Frodo looked around at the encampment. They had begun to feast upon a spitted boar. They seemed to celebrate his coming, taking the hobbit by the arm or shoulder and shaking him with affection. He smiled at the warmth and familiarity of the welcome but as they drew him closer to their circle around their fire he felt an uncomfortable impatience rise in him.
Frodo turned to Gorin as he raised his hands up in mild protest. "I do not wish to refuse your hospitality but I am anxious to complete my task." He grimaced at the absurdity of his statement. He could hardly believe that he could be in a convincing hurry to do something that he had put off for centuries.
Gorin nodded and clapped his hand on the hobbit's back. "We understand, Master Ringbearer," he said as he signaled to his kinsmen. "Allow us to assemble a small party to accompany you and we shall be on our way."
Frodo's discomfort rose greatly at this news. The only company he desired he had left in the wilderness of Trollveggen. "Is that really necessary?" he asked apprehensively. "I do not wish to be a burden."
"Orcs still inhabit the deeper tunnels," the dwarf said gravely. He sensed the hobbit's reluctance and added graciously, "You would honor us if you would accept our company."
Frodo sighed and forced a smile. He had not considered the possibility of encountering orcs. A party of dwarves would be a welcome alternative to having to defend himself from attacking goblins. "Then I will accept it gratefully," he said finally.
If his circumstances had not been so dire, he could appreciate the irony of his situation. He's out to destroy the Ring with a fellowship of dwarves much as his uncle Bilbo discovered the Ring centuries ago.
From across the fire a dwarf watched Frodo intensely. His beard was barely half the length of the others, indicating his youth, but his heart beat with a desire that belied the years of his young life. From as far back as he could remember he had wanted to prove himself not just in the eyes of his elders and peers but in his own eyes. His worth seemed tainted by some act of shame that escaped his memory, a phantom that visited him in his dreams but escaped upon waking.
This day changed all that. He understood now and with one look at the Ringbearer he knew what he had to do.
The others had gathered together and had begun to select which and how many of them would continue with the hobbit. The young dwarf sidled up to his father, Woton, who had just volunteered to lead. Unlike the others he stood pensively, shaking with expectation as he voiced his plea. "Father, let me come."
Woton looked down at his son with a furrowed brow. He had begun to regret giving in to his insistence about coming on the scouting party. He would no be so malleable with this greater danger looming ahead. "I know you are eager, lad," he said, laying his heavy hand on his son's shoulder, "but today is not the day for you to test your strength."
The young dwarf frowned, frustrated at the dismissal. His father didn't understand. He wasn't looking for a youthful contest to show his skill. He desired something deeper, more meaningful than honor or legacy. He wanted redemption. "I care nothing for orcs," he said hotly. "This is.this is important to me."
Woton pulled him aside. He saw the young dwarf's enthusiasm and he knew he needed to guide that intensity without quelling it. "I admire your sense of duty but you are too young to meet your fate," he said sternly. A great uncertain danger lay ahead. They could be hurt. They could be killed. He was not yet ready for his son to wield his axe in battle. He leaned in close and said in his ear, "A time will come and you will hear your destiny call to you in a voice so clear that none of us will deny you. But now is not that time."
He looked up at his father with dismay as frustration tied his stomach in knots. Nothing he could say would convince him to change his mind. To tell of the real reason why he wanted to come would make him sound mad. "Yes, Father," he said sadly. "I will stay with the camp."
Silently he watched them go. He could not follow and he could not hide his disappointment at being left behind. He prayed that his chance would come and listened for the clear voice of destiny to call his name.
* * *
Sally had followed behind Legolas for nearly an hour. The sun had dipped low below the horizon and the moon had begun to rise like a beacon in the evening sky. She walked without thought to time or place, simply placing one foot before the other in step with the elf. Her mind had left the present to a less friendly past, a place where she could look on her decisions from the critical clarity of the present. She knew she had made mistakes before. She hoped that she could learn from them now.
She had lost herself in her thoughts so deeply she had not realized that Legolas had stopped until she nearly ran into him. She looked to him in surprise. "You're stopping?" she asked innocently.
He had turned away from her, regarding his surroundings with a quiet respect. He knew these woods well. "The Gates are ahead," he announced. "I want to give you something." He pulled the pack off of his shoulders and reached inside to retrieve something gray, folded carefully and precisely. He held it out to Sally. "Here, take this."
Sally took his offering into her hands. The familiarity of the feel of the fabric caused an almost electric reaction in her. She almost gasped in response.
"Do you recognize it?" Legolas asked.
Sally could barely breathe. "An elven cloak from Lothlorien," she whispered. "You've kept it all this time."
The elf came to her then and laid his hand on the cloak, feeling its texture beneath his fingertips. "This was mine," he said softly. He looked down at the cloak fondly with remembrance of adventures long ago. That time had passed, as had the players in a way. "I give it to you."
She glanced up at him with alarm. "Why?"
"Yours will no longer fit you," he said simply and totally without humor.
Her eyes filled with a sudden fear, a feeling she could not explain. "You're not coming," she stated.
Legolas shook his head in acknowledgement. He took the cloak from her arms and unfurled it before her. "It's not to punish you or Frodo," he said. "I simply am not meant to go. You are fated to be by his side. I am not, no matter that I want to with all of my heart."
As he draped the cloak around her, she felt a familiar sense of loneliness descend upon her. "You were part of the Fellowship," she said plaintively. "If you truly wish to come, I won't oppose you." A bitterness pulled at her. This was unfair. She couldn't make him come with her but she couldn't understand why he wouldn't. She realized that she wasn't angry with him. She was afraid. "I don't want to go through the mines alone."
He smiled in sympathy as his fingers worked to fasten the green leaf brooch. "Each of us has a task to perform in this quest," he told her. "Mine has completed while yours has just begun. Your strides are longer in this life. You will not be alone for long." His hands left her and he reached into his pack again. This time he held a crumpled piece of parchment. He handed this to Sally as well. "I do not possess great skill at mapmaking, but if you follow this route, you should avoid contact with the dwarves."
Sally unfolded the parchment to reveal a map of the Mines of Moria. Even in the pale moonlight, she could see the intricacy of the drawings. While Legolas regarded his work modestly, almost apologetically, she could see the painstaking detail placed in the creation of this document. The beauty of it caught her eye but the warning remained in her mind. Gandalf had had a similar warning about the dwarves. "What will they do with me if they find me?" she asked.
"I don't know," he answered. His voice was cautious, quiet. He really didn't know.
Sally frowned unhappily. "That's not very comforting," she replied.
"I have nothing of comfort left to give you," Legolas said softly, "save this." He laid his hands gently on her shoulders and leaned in close. His lips tenderly brushed against her forehead, lingering there for a moment, prolonging their farewell. Sally swallowed hard as she felt the blood rush to her face.
As he parted from her, she saw that his elven demeanor had slipped, replaced by great sadness at their parting. Sally took a backwards step. At the moment, she could not tell which of them was leaving. He would not go. She could not stay. Feeling the inexorable press of time she forced her mouth to work. "Good-bye Legolas," she said.
Legolas raised his hand. "Fare thee well, Sally," he called to her.
She turned towards the walls of Moria and pulled her cloak around her for warmth. Her mind stumbled to try to find the words to a song that would commemorate the occasion but the songs from the time before were lost to her. Before she even realized her own actions, she had raised her voice in a melody. The sound that came from her was sweeter and more heartfelt than she had ever been capable of.
Even as he moved away from her through the woods, Legolas could hear her sing. He paused, closed his eyes and let the feeling of the words wash over him.
"These tears I've cried, I've cried a thousand oceans. And if it seems I'm floating in darkness, Well, I can't believe that I would keep, Keep you from flying. And I would cry a thousand more, If that's what it takes to sail you home. I'm aware what the rules are, But you know that I will run. You know that I will follow you. Over Silbury Hills, through the Solar Fields, You know that I will follow you."
TBC
This chapter contains lyrics from "1,000 Oceans" by Tori Amos.
Author's Note: I'm sorry that I didn't get this chapter up sooner. I had wanted to get a better start on Chapter 14 before I posted 13. It will still be about a week before I finish 14. Some cool revelations come up in this chapter and I want to treat them with care before I begin the big angstfest of the last three chapters. The title is subject to change. I'm having trouble keeping up with mirroring the FOTR title chapters.
Chapter 14: "The Old Mines"-Through fortunes both ill and good, Sally and Frodo will be reunited.
I will try to make it worth the wait.
Author's note at the end.
"Hostile Takeover"-Chapter Thirteen: A Journey into Darkness
Bitter tears stung her eyes as Sally turned from Gandalf's cabin. She ran blindly into the woods for the second time on that cold, unfriendly day, but this time she didn't run away. She ran towards something with all the hope she had left in her to find.
Her steps faltered and she stopped. The trees seemed to look down at her like uncaring strangers. "Where.?" she asked them in a trembling voice. A horrible realization began to sink in. A crushing sense of helplessness pulled her to the ground. "Where do I go?!" she cried in despair.
She was lost. Frodo had left his Sam. She couldn't follow him. She didn't know the way. She sobbed, beating the ground with her fists. "Damn this memory!" she cried, cursing herself and all living things around her. "Nothing looks like it's supposed to."
"Centuries have passed since you last walked these trails," Gandalf said from behind her. "Much has changed here," he explained gently. "You have changed."
Sally looked up from the ground, a great darkness cast across her face. She did not welcome the sound of the wizard's voice. She suspected his work in the absence of her master. "You did this! Didn't you?!" she howled at him in fury. She twisted to face him, clawing at the dirt beneath her to lash out at him in her rage. "You made him go alone! Why?!?"
Gandalf did not move but he looked upon her with great pity. "You should know already," he said. "Your heart is willing but you will be weak. In the end your companionship will be more of a danger to him than a comfort."
"No," she whimpered at his feet.
"The Ring will seduce you."
She shook her head denying the words before the truth could sink in. "I don't care," she sobbed. "I can resist it." She would not allow herself to doubt. If she doubted then she could never follow him. If she couldn't follow him, then what purpose did her life hold?
Gandalf slammed the end of his staff into the ground near her head. "Samwise Gamgee!" he roared over her in a sudden fury designed to get her attention. "Look at yourself! You're human!"
Sally looked up at his overwhelming form with sullen eyes. "My body is," she admitted woundedly. "Perhaps my heart. But not my soul." She pulled herself up to her feet. She did not want to appear powerless or afraid before him. "You forget, wizard, I wore that Ring once. I've felt its power. I've heard its voice. Can you say the same?"
"No, I cannot," he replied calmly, "but can you deny the darkness that exists within you?" He stepped closer to her, looking down at her with cold eyes. "I know what you hide in your coat. The Samwise I remember would not have brought it to Middle Earth let alone hide it from his master."
Her eyes widened at his accusation but she could not deny it. She couldn't even properly explain it. "I was afraid," she said in a much smaller voice than before.
"You are ashamed," Gandalf observed. His gaze and posture softened before the sorrowful young woman. He could only imagine how the hobbit within her had weathered in the world she lived. Her loneliness rivaled Frodo's. "Even the purity of your soul could not keep you from the corruption of your world." He reached out and touched the point of her chin with his fingertips, a tender gesture for one whose pain he felt.
"It doesn't matter," she said grimacing. She struggled to hold back another wave of disabling tears. "Why else would I be here if not to be with him?"
Gandalf frowned and his hand left her face. She only saw her significance in the role of servant. She didn't know how truly important her presence really was. He brought his hands together around his staff and he looked at her carefully. "Why do you think he chose now to destroy the Ring?"
Sally flinched. She had not expected the question. She thought the answer was obvious. "Because of Saruman," she replied.
The wizard shook his head and almost chuckled. His old foe had filled the role of bogeyman well enough that she never questioned her master's reasoning. But Saruman was merely a convenient excuse. "He could have destroyed Saruman with a thought," he said, dismissing the notion with a wave of his hand. He stepped closer to her and his eyes locked with hers. "It was you. Your returning. He could not bear the thought of you living in a world where the Ring still existed."
Sally's tears fell silently at the profound realization.
Gandalf looked away to a bird taking flight. Something in her expression made her difficult to face. "No one counted on that. Not even me. You were always so demonstrative of your devotion to him. No one could see how much he loved you in return."
Her breaths came in short quavering sobs. She shut her eyes but the tears would not stop. She felt Gandalf's arms encircle her. Softly, his words continued to fall upon her ears. She could not shut them out. Her insignificance was tantamount to her reality, to her sense of self. But to hear this, shattered all that. In her world she could not be this important. "All that he has done, he has done for you. Destroying the Ring is not something he is doing for himself. It is not for the world. It is for your sake and your sake alone."
His hand cupped her cheek and he turned her face up to his. She looked at him unwillingly, shamed by her weakness, humbled by her greatness. "As much as he loves you and as much as you love him, you cannot go with him now," he said gently. "The Ring will take that love and turn it against you, destroying what is good in you both to assure its continued existence."
Sally began to pull away. She knew the wisdom of Gandalf's words and she could feel uncertainty begin to build within her. These must have been the same arguments he had used on Frodo that caused him to leave without her. They had begun to work on her. She shook her head to shake away her doubt. She couldn't let him win. He had to be forgetting something, something that would convince him that they were meant to be together. "I know what that Ring can do," she said trying to build a confidence in her voice that she had misplaced. "It lures you with promises of power and glory. I've seen it. But it will have no sway over me. I don't care what it offers. I don't want it. All I care about is him. I was with him before. I alone know what he faces. I'm the only one who can help him."
Gandalf sighed heavily. The depth of Sally's feelings touched him greatly but he remained unmoved on his resolve. Each believed that they knew what was best for the Ringbearer but their conflicting views only brought them to a stalemate.
But they were not alone. Legolas emerged from the trees and stood before them both. He had heard their heated argument and allowed them the illusion of privacy but no longer. He could no longer remain silent. "There is divine purpose in her presence here. She performs a sacred duty that is so powerful that it should not be denied." He faced Gandalf with a princely pride and spoke with a wisdom he had earned over centuries of life. "If you will not lead her to Moria, then I shall."
For several moments, no one spoke or moved. Gandalf fixed them with a fierce gaze, silently damning them as fools. Then he turned his back on them and leaned heavily on his staff. "So be it," he said gravely. "Let us hope that love shall conquer all."
Sally let out a long breath, feeling relieved and frightened all at once. She stepped towards the wizard and placed her hand on his shoulder. She could feel the old man tense at her touch. "Thank you," she said timidly. "I won't fail him."
Sally had begun to follow Legolas away when Gandalf's booming voice called out to her. "Sally." She stopped but did not turn to face him. "Be brave.but not too brave."
She shook at the warning. "I understand," she replied quietly. She swallowed her fears and dismissed her doubts and followed the elf into the woods.
Gandalf listened to their footsteps as they faded in the distance. In that instant he felt very old, as if all the many years of his life piled upon him one by one adding their weight to his soul. He really had no certainty that Frodo would have succeeded without Sally but foreknowledge had haunted him from the moment he saw her face.
Frodo loved her with all the unspoken words he had kept for Sam. The Ring knew that and before he would reach Mount Doom, it would use that love against him. Out of love for Sally, Frodo would wield the Ring again.
* * *
The darkness of Moria enveloped Frodo like a blanket, covering sight, sound and even breath. He saw only the way before him illuminated by his torchlight and heard only the sound of his own steps. The air was thick and close and when he breathed deeply he could taste the scent of distant fires. He welcomed the muting of his senses and hoped that it would bring peace to his mind. Though many years had passed since he walked these tunnels, he knew them well. This time he walked alone.
'To be a Ringbearer is to be alone.' He had once believed that Galadriel's words were a warning but now he saw her true intent. She was instructing him. A warning can be dismissed, as he had dismissed it when he let Sam go with him into Mordor. He had learned his lesson then. With Sally, he had begun to forget. He must be alone. No one can understand his pain. No one could see his burden. With the Ring gone, all that would disappear with it. No more suffering. No more fear. No more.
Morbidly, he believed that his new train of thought would quicken his step. He should look forward to the end of his quest but he walked slowly. His pace was slowed by the heaviness of his heart. He missed Sally.
Frodo stopped suddenly in his tracks. His sadness was momentarily forgotten as the hair on the back of his neck bristled with anticipation. He sensed movement ahead of him though he saw and heard nothing.
A deep voice bellowed from the pitch around him. "Ho! Who goes forth in this darkness without our leave?!" The dwarves had discovered him.
"Only I," Frodo called out.
A dwarf stepped into the light of his torch, allowing himself to be seen. He held his axe across his chest as a show of strength and courage to the intruder to their home. "Who might you be, little man?" he asked in challenge.
"I am not a man," Frodo replied. He held his arms open to reveal that he carried no weapon, to show he posed no threat. "I am Frodo, the Ringbearer."
The dwarf relaxed his grip on his axe and stepped closer into the light. "Aye. The elf gave word that you would come through," he said nodding. He extended his hand in welcome. A gesture Frodo readily accepted. "I am Gorin, son of Olog. Come. We've been waiting for you."
Gorin led Frodo a distance through the tunnels to a large opening where several dwarves had set up camp. The dwarves did not make a habit of dwelling in the caverns and tunnels towards the entrance. They had little need to venture away from their city except in small hunting parties. Their distrust of the outside world had grown to a point of intense xenophobia. Where once they held only elves in low regard they now cared nothing for any of the other races. The elves were little more than a nuisance, passing through Moria like silent spirits coming to and from Middle Earth and the world of man.
Humans, they abhorred above all others for their brazen and misguided willingness to live in a world of evil. Though they had not seen a man in centuries they had fixed their likeness in their minds and took upon themselves the responsibility of keeping humanity's darkness from tainting Middle Earth.
Hobbits existed only in legend. Only one hobbit lived in the world and all in Moria knew him.
Frodo looked around at the encampment. They had begun to feast upon a spitted boar. They seemed to celebrate his coming, taking the hobbit by the arm or shoulder and shaking him with affection. He smiled at the warmth and familiarity of the welcome but as they drew him closer to their circle around their fire he felt an uncomfortable impatience rise in him.
Frodo turned to Gorin as he raised his hands up in mild protest. "I do not wish to refuse your hospitality but I am anxious to complete my task." He grimaced at the absurdity of his statement. He could hardly believe that he could be in a convincing hurry to do something that he had put off for centuries.
Gorin nodded and clapped his hand on the hobbit's back. "We understand, Master Ringbearer," he said as he signaled to his kinsmen. "Allow us to assemble a small party to accompany you and we shall be on our way."
Frodo's discomfort rose greatly at this news. The only company he desired he had left in the wilderness of Trollveggen. "Is that really necessary?" he asked apprehensively. "I do not wish to be a burden."
"Orcs still inhabit the deeper tunnels," the dwarf said gravely. He sensed the hobbit's reluctance and added graciously, "You would honor us if you would accept our company."
Frodo sighed and forced a smile. He had not considered the possibility of encountering orcs. A party of dwarves would be a welcome alternative to having to defend himself from attacking goblins. "Then I will accept it gratefully," he said finally.
If his circumstances had not been so dire, he could appreciate the irony of his situation. He's out to destroy the Ring with a fellowship of dwarves much as his uncle Bilbo discovered the Ring centuries ago.
From across the fire a dwarf watched Frodo intensely. His beard was barely half the length of the others, indicating his youth, but his heart beat with a desire that belied the years of his young life. From as far back as he could remember he had wanted to prove himself not just in the eyes of his elders and peers but in his own eyes. His worth seemed tainted by some act of shame that escaped his memory, a phantom that visited him in his dreams but escaped upon waking.
This day changed all that. He understood now and with one look at the Ringbearer he knew what he had to do.
The others had gathered together and had begun to select which and how many of them would continue with the hobbit. The young dwarf sidled up to his father, Woton, who had just volunteered to lead. Unlike the others he stood pensively, shaking with expectation as he voiced his plea. "Father, let me come."
Woton looked down at his son with a furrowed brow. He had begun to regret giving in to his insistence about coming on the scouting party. He would no be so malleable with this greater danger looming ahead. "I know you are eager, lad," he said, laying his heavy hand on his son's shoulder, "but today is not the day for you to test your strength."
The young dwarf frowned, frustrated at the dismissal. His father didn't understand. He wasn't looking for a youthful contest to show his skill. He desired something deeper, more meaningful than honor or legacy. He wanted redemption. "I care nothing for orcs," he said hotly. "This is.this is important to me."
Woton pulled him aside. He saw the young dwarf's enthusiasm and he knew he needed to guide that intensity without quelling it. "I admire your sense of duty but you are too young to meet your fate," he said sternly. A great uncertain danger lay ahead. They could be hurt. They could be killed. He was not yet ready for his son to wield his axe in battle. He leaned in close and said in his ear, "A time will come and you will hear your destiny call to you in a voice so clear that none of us will deny you. But now is not that time."
He looked up at his father with dismay as frustration tied his stomach in knots. Nothing he could say would convince him to change his mind. To tell of the real reason why he wanted to come would make him sound mad. "Yes, Father," he said sadly. "I will stay with the camp."
Silently he watched them go. He could not follow and he could not hide his disappointment at being left behind. He prayed that his chance would come and listened for the clear voice of destiny to call his name.
* * *
Sally had followed behind Legolas for nearly an hour. The sun had dipped low below the horizon and the moon had begun to rise like a beacon in the evening sky. She walked without thought to time or place, simply placing one foot before the other in step with the elf. Her mind had left the present to a less friendly past, a place where she could look on her decisions from the critical clarity of the present. She knew she had made mistakes before. She hoped that she could learn from them now.
She had lost herself in her thoughts so deeply she had not realized that Legolas had stopped until she nearly ran into him. She looked to him in surprise. "You're stopping?" she asked innocently.
He had turned away from her, regarding his surroundings with a quiet respect. He knew these woods well. "The Gates are ahead," he announced. "I want to give you something." He pulled the pack off of his shoulders and reached inside to retrieve something gray, folded carefully and precisely. He held it out to Sally. "Here, take this."
Sally took his offering into her hands. The familiarity of the feel of the fabric caused an almost electric reaction in her. She almost gasped in response.
"Do you recognize it?" Legolas asked.
Sally could barely breathe. "An elven cloak from Lothlorien," she whispered. "You've kept it all this time."
The elf came to her then and laid his hand on the cloak, feeling its texture beneath his fingertips. "This was mine," he said softly. He looked down at the cloak fondly with remembrance of adventures long ago. That time had passed, as had the players in a way. "I give it to you."
She glanced up at him with alarm. "Why?"
"Yours will no longer fit you," he said simply and totally without humor.
Her eyes filled with a sudden fear, a feeling she could not explain. "You're not coming," she stated.
Legolas shook his head in acknowledgement. He took the cloak from her arms and unfurled it before her. "It's not to punish you or Frodo," he said. "I simply am not meant to go. You are fated to be by his side. I am not, no matter that I want to with all of my heart."
As he draped the cloak around her, she felt a familiar sense of loneliness descend upon her. "You were part of the Fellowship," she said plaintively. "If you truly wish to come, I won't oppose you." A bitterness pulled at her. This was unfair. She couldn't make him come with her but she couldn't understand why he wouldn't. She realized that she wasn't angry with him. She was afraid. "I don't want to go through the mines alone."
He smiled in sympathy as his fingers worked to fasten the green leaf brooch. "Each of us has a task to perform in this quest," he told her. "Mine has completed while yours has just begun. Your strides are longer in this life. You will not be alone for long." His hands left her and he reached into his pack again. This time he held a crumpled piece of parchment. He handed this to Sally as well. "I do not possess great skill at mapmaking, but if you follow this route, you should avoid contact with the dwarves."
Sally unfolded the parchment to reveal a map of the Mines of Moria. Even in the pale moonlight, she could see the intricacy of the drawings. While Legolas regarded his work modestly, almost apologetically, she could see the painstaking detail placed in the creation of this document. The beauty of it caught her eye but the warning remained in her mind. Gandalf had had a similar warning about the dwarves. "What will they do with me if they find me?" she asked.
"I don't know," he answered. His voice was cautious, quiet. He really didn't know.
Sally frowned unhappily. "That's not very comforting," she replied.
"I have nothing of comfort left to give you," Legolas said softly, "save this." He laid his hands gently on her shoulders and leaned in close. His lips tenderly brushed against her forehead, lingering there for a moment, prolonging their farewell. Sally swallowed hard as she felt the blood rush to her face.
As he parted from her, she saw that his elven demeanor had slipped, replaced by great sadness at their parting. Sally took a backwards step. At the moment, she could not tell which of them was leaving. He would not go. She could not stay. Feeling the inexorable press of time she forced her mouth to work. "Good-bye Legolas," she said.
Legolas raised his hand. "Fare thee well, Sally," he called to her.
She turned towards the walls of Moria and pulled her cloak around her for warmth. Her mind stumbled to try to find the words to a song that would commemorate the occasion but the songs from the time before were lost to her. Before she even realized her own actions, she had raised her voice in a melody. The sound that came from her was sweeter and more heartfelt than she had ever been capable of.
Even as he moved away from her through the woods, Legolas could hear her sing. He paused, closed his eyes and let the feeling of the words wash over him.
"These tears I've cried, I've cried a thousand oceans. And if it seems I'm floating in darkness, Well, I can't believe that I would keep, Keep you from flying. And I would cry a thousand more, If that's what it takes to sail you home. I'm aware what the rules are, But you know that I will run. You know that I will follow you. Over Silbury Hills, through the Solar Fields, You know that I will follow you."
TBC
This chapter contains lyrics from "1,000 Oceans" by Tori Amos.
Author's Note: I'm sorry that I didn't get this chapter up sooner. I had wanted to get a better start on Chapter 14 before I posted 13. It will still be about a week before I finish 14. Some cool revelations come up in this chapter and I want to treat them with care before I begin the big angstfest of the last three chapters. The title is subject to change. I'm having trouble keeping up with mirroring the FOTR title chapters.
Chapter 14: "The Old Mines"-Through fortunes both ill and good, Sally and Frodo will be reunited.
I will try to make it worth the wait.