Chapter Seven
And they were walking again.
The Fellowship departed from the house of Elrond early in the morning. They had set out on foot. Willow was really missing the days of automobiles and public transportation. She wasn't athletic enough to do so much walking.
It wasn't all bad. The Elven maids had finally finished her clothes. She was once again clad in her leather pants and nice green tank top. Well, replication of her former clothes. The sweethearts had even made her a jacket that matched her pants. It looked a lot like Spike's old duster. When she had gotten it, she had begun bawling her eyes out. The poor maids thought they had done something wrong. It took quite a long time to explain she was just homesick. The maids were sympathetic, but they couldn't understand why the jacket had set her off. Willow decided best not to tell them the duster was a trademark of a certain bleached blonde vampire whom she once called friend. That would have made them think she was just plain nuts. As it was, they thought her babbling habit was some sort of personality disorder.
Arwen had seen her off privately. She gave Willow a beautiful silver locket. She had wished the redhead well. The Elf woman had taken to looking at Willow with awe and some jealousy. Willow was pretty sure it had to do with her friendship with Aragorn. Like those two were hiding anything. Willow knew the score.
Anyways, where was she? Oh yeah, the walking. There was a lot of that. The only highlight of the travel was walking behind Legolas. Yummy Elf had quite the nice ass. Of course, that highlight was also a lowlight. Whenever she dwelt on the fact, she turned a horrible red shade. The hobbits had noticed but chalked it up to the strenuous walking. She didn't disabuse them of the notion.
Finally, they stopped for a break. Frodo and Sam set happily about making lunch, a lot of lunch. Merry and Pippin were off with Boromir, he was teaching them how to use of sword. He had started off trying to teach Willow, but she had shown quite an amount of skill with the basics of it. He had, however, informed her that her style was too rigid and she needed to be more innovative. Being one to take criticism lightly, Willow promptly asked him for a lesson in staff fighting.
Twenty seconds later, she had the large man in the same position she had Aragorn when she first met him. Flat on his back with her staff jabbing him in the stomach. Yummy Elf and Aragorn had burst out laughing. Willow would have joined them, but she felt kind of childish tricking Boromir like that. And having her thought patterns return to calling Legolas the Yummy Elf. She really needed to control that.
As for Boromir, he laughed it off good-naturedly.
"I should have known better," he reasoned. "After all, what would the great Lady Firelight need with my instructions?"
Great Lady Firelight. She had liked the sound of it, initially, it was kind of cool. But after being referred to by it so many times, Willow was about ready to stake Spike for thinking up the stupid name. She just wanted to be Willow, no one else but Willow.
Merry and Pippin were pretty quick learners. And they looked so adorable trying to fend off the parries of Boromir. Willow watched happily from the sidelines for a while, until Gandalf called her.
"My dear girl," he started after she settled down next to him, "why is it you hoard your magic inside you?"
Willow hung her head in shame. "I have to," she explained softly. "I became addicted to doing magic. I lost it, spent all my time trying to get more of it. I left myself vulnerable for attack, and I dragged my poor Dawnie right into it. I nearly killed her one night. After that, I gave the whole mess up."
Gandalf knit his eyes together in confusion. "I don't understand how you can think so badly of your talents. Yes, I see you had a bit of a downturn with it, but that was because you were using the wrong tools. The use of the dark magics will almost always lead to trouble. Now, if you started magic again, but this time with Wise magic, you would have no such problems."
Willow opened her mouth, but failed to come up with the words to properly refuse. Gandalf patted her hand lightly. He then handed her a book.
"This is Wise magic," he explained. "Think of what I have said. This may be what you were looking for."
Then Gimli started complaining about something called Moria. Gandalf had visibly paled, and it looked like the two were about to go at it. Willow left them to their own devices; she had had enough of fighting.
She looked at the book in her hands. Magic. Could she trust herself to do magic again? What if the same thing happened? What if she lost it and this entire world of Middle Earth was left to pay the consequences of her actions? Willow couldn't do that, she didn't dare risk it.
A nagging feeling in her mind drew her attention away from the book. Something was coming, it smelled of magic. It reeked of dark magic. And it was focused on the ring.
Willow stood up and walked to the edge of the cliff. Yup, they were on another cliff. Willow was debating developing a fear of heights. Nothing good ever happened to her on a high elevation. Then again, on the ground, things weren't always that much better. Maybe she should live on the clouds, didn't see a bad side to that. Except she couldn't fly, stupid human limitations.
Someone hopped down beside her.
It was Legolas; he was intent on whatever it was too. Normally, being this close to him would have made Willow very distracted, but the magic on the wind was even greater than her silly attraction to the Elf.
But he still had a great ass.
"What is it?" he asked. Willow shrugged and turned back to "it". A dark mass on the horizon, moving towards them.
"It's just a whiff of clouds," Gimli offered from behind them.
"It's moving awful fast for a cloud," Aragorn mused.
"Against the wind," Boromir added.
Gandalf's eyes grew wide. "It's the Crebain! Hide, hide everything!"
And then there was chaos.
Willow grabbed her books and her staff. Legolas grabbed her arm and pulled her underneath a small crevice. Her heart was beating rapidly; she couldn't see the others at all. She felt the crebain get closer. The magic rolled off them in waves.
Willow breathed heavily, though quietly. Slowly, she became aware of how close Legolas was to her. The Elf was sprawled out on top of the redhead. Her face went red and her breathing quickened. The Elf turned his eyes on her, a question on his face. She tried to turn hers away lest she reveal something with them.
Blue eyes stared into green. The crebain moved closer, and so did Legolas. Willow's breath caught, her eyes widened. She watched as the Elf lowered his face to hers. Her eyes closed. Their lips meant.
Willow was blown out of the water. The crebain arrived, shrieking and cawing up a storm, but she barely noticed. All she felt was Legolas' lips on hers; it was burning her up from the inside. The Elf pried her lips apart and slipped his tongue into her mouth. Rational thought ended there.
Willow had never been kissed like this before. Yeah, she had tongue with Oz, Xander, Tara, and once with Spike (something they never mentioned to anyone else), but it never made her feel like this. She pressed closely against him; she needed more of his touch. He complied, his hands roaming her body feverishly fast. And then:
"They're gone, everyone out!"
Aragorn's shout jerked Willow away from Legolas. The Elf stared at her hungrily, and she went redder than her hair.
"We should go," she squeaked. She leapt out of their spot without giving him a chance to answer. As she headed to the others, she tried to cool her flush face and prayed her lips weren't too bruised by the kiss.
No one seemed to notice, that was good. They were all focused on something, most likely the crebain. Willow remembered them, and she was totally focused on their situation.
Riight.
"Spies for Saruman," Gandalf spit distastefully. "The southern way has been blocked," he turned around abruptly. "We must head north, take the passage of Caradhras."
Everyone groaned. Willow stepped close to Aragorn.
"What's Carrot Toss?" she asked.
He smiled at her. "Caradhras," he corrected her mildly. He gestured behind them. "The mountain."
Willow followed his motion. It was the mother of all mountains, and covered in snow. What fun.
She pouted and whimpered. Aragorn smiled pityingly and gave her arm a squeeze before turning to help the hobbits pack up their supplies. Willow turned to help him, and she caught a quick glimpse of Legolas. He was glaring at Aragorn with what looked like jealously on his handsome face.
Oh boy, what had she done now?
*****
Willow got her wish. The company wasn't walking any more. Now they were trudging. Trudging through the snow. Uphill, well up mountain. Carrot Toss was one bitch of a mountain. She preferred walking to this. What's that saying about a double-edged sword?
Willow also decided she hated snow. Snow bad, sun good. She was a Californian at heart. She needed the beach and the sand and the sun. She also needed to mend the whole situation with Legolas, but that wasn't going to happen any time soon.
Speaking of the Elf, he was having no problems with the snow at all. He was just skipping about like a, uh, well a fairy or something, which he was. Just walking on top of the snow like it was no big deal. If she didn't have such a huge crush on the guy, Willow would be seriously mad at him. As it was, she was just irked. Well, maybe more than irked, but since she was playing with his emotions, Willow felt she should keep her feelings to herself.
Also, there were the murder looks Legolas was shooting Aragorn. Willow was afraid to even talk to the man lest the Elf lose it entirely. Of course, Legolas was projecting killer stares at any other member of the Fellowship Willow ventured close to. Even the hobbits, it was unnerving. Willow had to talk to him, but privacy was a really big issue at the moment. Being that there was none of it. Also, there was that overwhelming urge to run as far away from the situation as possible.
She heard a yelp behind her. Frodo had slipped. Aragorn pulled him to his feet. Boromir walked towards them and then stopped. Frodo was frantically searching his neck for something. Boromir bent down and plucked something from the snow. Willow felt the ring send out its call. It was calling Boromir, and the guy was having a hard time resisting.
"It's a wonder we toil so hard for such a simple thing," he murmured. He brought his hand up, as if to touch the ring. Willow leaped forward and stayed his hand.
"Don't touch that thing," she warned him softly. "It's trying to pull you in."
"Boromir," Aragorn looked the man straight in the eyes. "Give the ring back to Frodo."
"Of course," Boromir mumbled, distractedly. He handed the chain back to Frodo. "I care not," he insisted with a strangled laugh. With a ruffle of the hobbit's hair, the man turned back up the slope.
Willow turned concerned eyes to Aragorn. He shrugged and helped Frodo back up the hill. Willow lent her hand out to him, and slowly the three climbed to meet the others.
In front of them, the group waited patiently. Legolas was simmering quietly. His gaze concentrated on Aragorn. Willow dropped Aragorn's hand.
This was going to get ugly.
*****
The snow just got worse.
It came thundering down. The company was resorted to trudging single file up the mountain, with Gandalf paving a way with his staff. Did she mention Carrot Toss was one bitch of a mountain?
The hobbits were having the worst of it. The snow came up to their noses. Boromir and Aragorn were forced to carry them halfway through the hike.
Willow clung to the back of Aragorn's clothes, pulling herself along with them. She was well aware that every time she touched Aragorn, Legolas started to fume. Right now, she didn't give a rat's ass. She was cold and miserable and clinging to Aragorn gave warmth and support.
A sudden dread filled Willow's mind. Magic, strong magic, barreling straight towards them. She had a feeling it was that Saruman guy again.
"Legolas," she called. The Elf was at her side in an instant. "I need to talk to Gandalf," she shouted over the wind. He nodded, looked slightly disappointed, and pulled her out of the snow. Nimbly, he ran to the front of the line, pulling Willow safely behind him.
Why didn't he mention he could do this before?
"Gandalf, there's some real bad mojo headed our way." Willow pointed out over the horizon. "Someone's sending us bad luck."
Legolas nodded. "There's black magic on the wind," he affirmed. Gandalf paused; he seemed at a lost at what to do. Suddenly, a giant rumbling came from above. The magic sent rocks tumbling down the mountain.
"Get back!" came Gandalf's cry.
Legolas pulled Willow up against the mountain wall and covered her head. As the rocks came down, he placed kisses on her neck. They were under assault and he could only think with his libido. Great. Fantastic. She would knock some sense into him, but those kisses were mighty pleasant. Willow was the real Restraint Girl.
"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Again, Aragorn's cry pulled Willow out of Legolas' arms. The Elf growled.
If the situation weren't so serious, she would have laughed. He sounded exactly like Spike when he did it.
"Gandalf!" Aragorn continued. "We must turn back!"
"No!" the wizard refused. "We must keep moving."
He turned out to the horizon, hefted his staff and mumbled something in another language. He was doing a counter spell. It wasn't strong enough.
Willow was about to head over and offer him her magic when another rumbling shook the mountain.
Legolas grabbed her again, spun her around, ducked her head, and stuck his tongue in her mouth. As the snow buried them, she was quite sure he didn't need to do that last part.
The snow stopped falling and the company dug itself out. Willow still had Legolas' tongue in her mouth during the process. Never occurred to her to push him away, what with all the danger surrounding them. Yeah right, she'd permanently join the Elf at the lip if such an act had roused much attention. Did she mention he was a really good kisser?
Detaching herself rather reluctantly from her, ahem, friend. Turning towards the others, she checked to make sure everyone had been dug out.
She wasn't avoiding looking at Legolas, nope not at all. She was just worried about her friends. Not in the least trying to avoid the Yummy Elf behind her. Oh God, she was back to calling him Yummy Elf.
"Gandalf," Aragorn shouted. "We must go back. It is folly to continue!"
"Why try to brave the mountain?" offered Gimli. "Why not go under it instead? I say we take the road of Moria."
Gandalf looked lost. He turned to Willow, she shook her head. She didn't have a clue what everyone was talking, so she decided to stay out it.
"Let the Ringbearer decide," he finally relented.
Frodo paused, deep in thought. He turned apologetic eyes to Gandalf. "We take the mines," he decided. Gandalf paled, but nodded.
"All right," Willow enthused. "Let's get the hell off Carrot Toss."
"CARADHRAS!!"
Willow rolled her eyes.
* * * * * * * * * * *
And they were walking again.
The Fellowship departed from the house of Elrond early in the morning. They had set out on foot. Willow was really missing the days of automobiles and public transportation. She wasn't athletic enough to do so much walking.
It wasn't all bad. The Elven maids had finally finished her clothes. She was once again clad in her leather pants and nice green tank top. Well, replication of her former clothes. The sweethearts had even made her a jacket that matched her pants. It looked a lot like Spike's old duster. When she had gotten it, she had begun bawling her eyes out. The poor maids thought they had done something wrong. It took quite a long time to explain she was just homesick. The maids were sympathetic, but they couldn't understand why the jacket had set her off. Willow decided best not to tell them the duster was a trademark of a certain bleached blonde vampire whom she once called friend. That would have made them think she was just plain nuts. As it was, they thought her babbling habit was some sort of personality disorder.
Arwen had seen her off privately. She gave Willow a beautiful silver locket. She had wished the redhead well. The Elf woman had taken to looking at Willow with awe and some jealousy. Willow was pretty sure it had to do with her friendship with Aragorn. Like those two were hiding anything. Willow knew the score.
Anyways, where was she? Oh yeah, the walking. There was a lot of that. The only highlight of the travel was walking behind Legolas. Yummy Elf had quite the nice ass. Of course, that highlight was also a lowlight. Whenever she dwelt on the fact, she turned a horrible red shade. The hobbits had noticed but chalked it up to the strenuous walking. She didn't disabuse them of the notion.
Finally, they stopped for a break. Frodo and Sam set happily about making lunch, a lot of lunch. Merry and Pippin were off with Boromir, he was teaching them how to use of sword. He had started off trying to teach Willow, but she had shown quite an amount of skill with the basics of it. He had, however, informed her that her style was too rigid and she needed to be more innovative. Being one to take criticism lightly, Willow promptly asked him for a lesson in staff fighting.
Twenty seconds later, she had the large man in the same position she had Aragorn when she first met him. Flat on his back with her staff jabbing him in the stomach. Yummy Elf and Aragorn had burst out laughing. Willow would have joined them, but she felt kind of childish tricking Boromir like that. And having her thought patterns return to calling Legolas the Yummy Elf. She really needed to control that.
As for Boromir, he laughed it off good-naturedly.
"I should have known better," he reasoned. "After all, what would the great Lady Firelight need with my instructions?"
Great Lady Firelight. She had liked the sound of it, initially, it was kind of cool. But after being referred to by it so many times, Willow was about ready to stake Spike for thinking up the stupid name. She just wanted to be Willow, no one else but Willow.
Merry and Pippin were pretty quick learners. And they looked so adorable trying to fend off the parries of Boromir. Willow watched happily from the sidelines for a while, until Gandalf called her.
"My dear girl," he started after she settled down next to him, "why is it you hoard your magic inside you?"
Willow hung her head in shame. "I have to," she explained softly. "I became addicted to doing magic. I lost it, spent all my time trying to get more of it. I left myself vulnerable for attack, and I dragged my poor Dawnie right into it. I nearly killed her one night. After that, I gave the whole mess up."
Gandalf knit his eyes together in confusion. "I don't understand how you can think so badly of your talents. Yes, I see you had a bit of a downturn with it, but that was because you were using the wrong tools. The use of the dark magics will almost always lead to trouble. Now, if you started magic again, but this time with Wise magic, you would have no such problems."
Willow opened her mouth, but failed to come up with the words to properly refuse. Gandalf patted her hand lightly. He then handed her a book.
"This is Wise magic," he explained. "Think of what I have said. This may be what you were looking for."
Then Gimli started complaining about something called Moria. Gandalf had visibly paled, and it looked like the two were about to go at it. Willow left them to their own devices; she had had enough of fighting.
She looked at the book in her hands. Magic. Could she trust herself to do magic again? What if the same thing happened? What if she lost it and this entire world of Middle Earth was left to pay the consequences of her actions? Willow couldn't do that, she didn't dare risk it.
A nagging feeling in her mind drew her attention away from the book. Something was coming, it smelled of magic. It reeked of dark magic. And it was focused on the ring.
Willow stood up and walked to the edge of the cliff. Yup, they were on another cliff. Willow was debating developing a fear of heights. Nothing good ever happened to her on a high elevation. Then again, on the ground, things weren't always that much better. Maybe she should live on the clouds, didn't see a bad side to that. Except she couldn't fly, stupid human limitations.
Someone hopped down beside her.
It was Legolas; he was intent on whatever it was too. Normally, being this close to him would have made Willow very distracted, but the magic on the wind was even greater than her silly attraction to the Elf.
But he still had a great ass.
"What is it?" he asked. Willow shrugged and turned back to "it". A dark mass on the horizon, moving towards them.
"It's just a whiff of clouds," Gimli offered from behind them.
"It's moving awful fast for a cloud," Aragorn mused.
"Against the wind," Boromir added.
Gandalf's eyes grew wide. "It's the Crebain! Hide, hide everything!"
And then there was chaos.
Willow grabbed her books and her staff. Legolas grabbed her arm and pulled her underneath a small crevice. Her heart was beating rapidly; she couldn't see the others at all. She felt the crebain get closer. The magic rolled off them in waves.
Willow breathed heavily, though quietly. Slowly, she became aware of how close Legolas was to her. The Elf was sprawled out on top of the redhead. Her face went red and her breathing quickened. The Elf turned his eyes on her, a question on his face. She tried to turn hers away lest she reveal something with them.
Blue eyes stared into green. The crebain moved closer, and so did Legolas. Willow's breath caught, her eyes widened. She watched as the Elf lowered his face to hers. Her eyes closed. Their lips meant.
Willow was blown out of the water. The crebain arrived, shrieking and cawing up a storm, but she barely noticed. All she felt was Legolas' lips on hers; it was burning her up from the inside. The Elf pried her lips apart and slipped his tongue into her mouth. Rational thought ended there.
Willow had never been kissed like this before. Yeah, she had tongue with Oz, Xander, Tara, and once with Spike (something they never mentioned to anyone else), but it never made her feel like this. She pressed closely against him; she needed more of his touch. He complied, his hands roaming her body feverishly fast. And then:
"They're gone, everyone out!"
Aragorn's shout jerked Willow away from Legolas. The Elf stared at her hungrily, and she went redder than her hair.
"We should go," she squeaked. She leapt out of their spot without giving him a chance to answer. As she headed to the others, she tried to cool her flush face and prayed her lips weren't too bruised by the kiss.
No one seemed to notice, that was good. They were all focused on something, most likely the crebain. Willow remembered them, and she was totally focused on their situation.
Riight.
"Spies for Saruman," Gandalf spit distastefully. "The southern way has been blocked," he turned around abruptly. "We must head north, take the passage of Caradhras."
Everyone groaned. Willow stepped close to Aragorn.
"What's Carrot Toss?" she asked.
He smiled at her. "Caradhras," he corrected her mildly. He gestured behind them. "The mountain."
Willow followed his motion. It was the mother of all mountains, and covered in snow. What fun.
She pouted and whimpered. Aragorn smiled pityingly and gave her arm a squeeze before turning to help the hobbits pack up their supplies. Willow turned to help him, and she caught a quick glimpse of Legolas. He was glaring at Aragorn with what looked like jealously on his handsome face.
Oh boy, what had she done now?
*****
Willow got her wish. The company wasn't walking any more. Now they were trudging. Trudging through the snow. Uphill, well up mountain. Carrot Toss was one bitch of a mountain. She preferred walking to this. What's that saying about a double-edged sword?
Willow also decided she hated snow. Snow bad, sun good. She was a Californian at heart. She needed the beach and the sand and the sun. She also needed to mend the whole situation with Legolas, but that wasn't going to happen any time soon.
Speaking of the Elf, he was having no problems with the snow at all. He was just skipping about like a, uh, well a fairy or something, which he was. Just walking on top of the snow like it was no big deal. If she didn't have such a huge crush on the guy, Willow would be seriously mad at him. As it was, she was just irked. Well, maybe more than irked, but since she was playing with his emotions, Willow felt she should keep her feelings to herself.
Also, there were the murder looks Legolas was shooting Aragorn. Willow was afraid to even talk to the man lest the Elf lose it entirely. Of course, Legolas was projecting killer stares at any other member of the Fellowship Willow ventured close to. Even the hobbits, it was unnerving. Willow had to talk to him, but privacy was a really big issue at the moment. Being that there was none of it. Also, there was that overwhelming urge to run as far away from the situation as possible.
She heard a yelp behind her. Frodo had slipped. Aragorn pulled him to his feet. Boromir walked towards them and then stopped. Frodo was frantically searching his neck for something. Boromir bent down and plucked something from the snow. Willow felt the ring send out its call. It was calling Boromir, and the guy was having a hard time resisting.
"It's a wonder we toil so hard for such a simple thing," he murmured. He brought his hand up, as if to touch the ring. Willow leaped forward and stayed his hand.
"Don't touch that thing," she warned him softly. "It's trying to pull you in."
"Boromir," Aragorn looked the man straight in the eyes. "Give the ring back to Frodo."
"Of course," Boromir mumbled, distractedly. He handed the chain back to Frodo. "I care not," he insisted with a strangled laugh. With a ruffle of the hobbit's hair, the man turned back up the slope.
Willow turned concerned eyes to Aragorn. He shrugged and helped Frodo back up the hill. Willow lent her hand out to him, and slowly the three climbed to meet the others.
In front of them, the group waited patiently. Legolas was simmering quietly. His gaze concentrated on Aragorn. Willow dropped Aragorn's hand.
This was going to get ugly.
*****
The snow just got worse.
It came thundering down. The company was resorted to trudging single file up the mountain, with Gandalf paving a way with his staff. Did she mention Carrot Toss was one bitch of a mountain?
The hobbits were having the worst of it. The snow came up to their noses. Boromir and Aragorn were forced to carry them halfway through the hike.
Willow clung to the back of Aragorn's clothes, pulling herself along with them. She was well aware that every time she touched Aragorn, Legolas started to fume. Right now, she didn't give a rat's ass. She was cold and miserable and clinging to Aragorn gave warmth and support.
A sudden dread filled Willow's mind. Magic, strong magic, barreling straight towards them. She had a feeling it was that Saruman guy again.
"Legolas," she called. The Elf was at her side in an instant. "I need to talk to Gandalf," she shouted over the wind. He nodded, looked slightly disappointed, and pulled her out of the snow. Nimbly, he ran to the front of the line, pulling Willow safely behind him.
Why didn't he mention he could do this before?
"Gandalf, there's some real bad mojo headed our way." Willow pointed out over the horizon. "Someone's sending us bad luck."
Legolas nodded. "There's black magic on the wind," he affirmed. Gandalf paused; he seemed at a lost at what to do. Suddenly, a giant rumbling came from above. The magic sent rocks tumbling down the mountain.
"Get back!" came Gandalf's cry.
Legolas pulled Willow up against the mountain wall and covered her head. As the rocks came down, he placed kisses on her neck. They were under assault and he could only think with his libido. Great. Fantastic. She would knock some sense into him, but those kisses were mighty pleasant. Willow was the real Restraint Girl.
"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Again, Aragorn's cry pulled Willow out of Legolas' arms. The Elf growled.
If the situation weren't so serious, she would have laughed. He sounded exactly like Spike when he did it.
"Gandalf!" Aragorn continued. "We must turn back!"
"No!" the wizard refused. "We must keep moving."
He turned out to the horizon, hefted his staff and mumbled something in another language. He was doing a counter spell. It wasn't strong enough.
Willow was about to head over and offer him her magic when another rumbling shook the mountain.
Legolas grabbed her again, spun her around, ducked her head, and stuck his tongue in her mouth. As the snow buried them, she was quite sure he didn't need to do that last part.
The snow stopped falling and the company dug itself out. Willow still had Legolas' tongue in her mouth during the process. Never occurred to her to push him away, what with all the danger surrounding them. Yeah right, she'd permanently join the Elf at the lip if such an act had roused much attention. Did she mention he was a really good kisser?
Detaching herself rather reluctantly from her, ahem, friend. Turning towards the others, she checked to make sure everyone had been dug out.
She wasn't avoiding looking at Legolas, nope not at all. She was just worried about her friends. Not in the least trying to avoid the Yummy Elf behind her. Oh God, she was back to calling him Yummy Elf.
"Gandalf," Aragorn shouted. "We must go back. It is folly to continue!"
"Why try to brave the mountain?" offered Gimli. "Why not go under it instead? I say we take the road of Moria."
Gandalf looked lost. He turned to Willow, she shook her head. She didn't have a clue what everyone was talking, so she decided to stay out it.
"Let the Ringbearer decide," he finally relented.
Frodo paused, deep in thought. He turned apologetic eyes to Gandalf. "We take the mines," he decided. Gandalf paled, but nodded.
"All right," Willow enthused. "Let's get the hell off Carrot Toss."
"CARADHRAS!!"
Willow rolled her eyes.
* * * * * * * * * * *