Author's Note: Anything that seems familiar, especially lines of dialogue, are right from the movies or the book. All ideas are inspired by the book and the movies. Any lines or scenes that I have taken directly from any other source or are too similar to scenes from the films are in italics. No disrespect is intended.
DISCLAIMER: JRR Tolkien, The Tolkien Family, New Line Cinema, Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh, and Phillipa Boyens own this stuff. I don't. I am only borrowing the universe because it's so much fun! I am making no money from this.
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The Path That Need Chooses by Ecri (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)
Part 2
The Fellowship made slow progress through the twisting caverns of Moria, hindered on occasion by slippery terrain, crumbling walls, and the macabre remains of Moria's former residents. After several hours of walking, Aragorn approached Gandalf.
"We should stop for the night soon. The Hobbits are tiring, and we could all use a rest after the encounter at the gates."
"Yes, we should stop at the next appropriate cavern. There should be a place easily defensible nearby."
"Defensible?" Aragorn's hand lingered over the hilt of his sword. "All here are dead."
"The dwarves are dead, Aragorn. Killed by Goblins who may yet linger. Nor do we know what other creatures may remain. We should be alert tonight."
Aragorn suppressed a humorless laugh. "You have no need to question our watch tonight, Gandalf. Boromir has claimed repeatedly that he will not sleep this night." The Ranger's eyes strayed to Legolas who was peering up at the cavern's ceiling as if, by sheer force of will, he could see through the mountain to the sky he knew hung above. "And our elf seems not himself as well." His voice was a low whisper to keep his words from elven ears."
Gandalf followed his gaze. "I hesitated to lead him here, but I knew he would not leave our company by choice. We must march long and hard tomorrow. I would not have him stay a moment longer than necessity dictates."
Aragorn nodded. "Then we are in agreement." Together, Ranger and Istari scanned the dim light for a likely place to rest.
**
Legolas had drawn the last watch, but he knew he would not rest. He settled himself against the rough stone wall and tried his best to coax his tired body towards elven sleep, but it was no use.
The lack of a cooking fire had upset the Hobbits, but not as much as the lack of firelight had upset the elf. He moved again to find the dim glow of Gandalf's staff. The Wizard, much to Legolas' consternation, had allowed the light to fade ever so slightly so as not to disturb those of the Fellowship who could sleep.
Legolas wanted desperately for the Wizard to wave his staff above his head and illuminate the whole of Moria. He knew it would not be so, but imagining it seemed somehow to help. In truth he knew not why he clung to the feeble artificial light. It was no substitute for sun, moon, or stars. Yet, in the recesses of his mind, he knew that the mines would be unendurable without that lovely light.
He listened now to Boromir speaking softly to Aragorn though the Ranger should be asleep. It was Boromir's watch, but Aragorn apparently had sought out the man from Gondor. Legolas did not intend to listen to their conversation, but found it hard to ignore.
"We walk in paths of evil, Aragorn. If that cursed beast had but stayed safe in his puddle we would be half way to the Gap of Rohan by now!"
"Lower your voice, Boromir! Some of our company sleeps." Aragorn glanced about to be sure they hadn't disturbed anyone. Gimli snored loudly, oblivious to his friend's anxieties. The hobbits, huddled together more for the comfort of the physical proximity, but also to drive away the chill of the stony depths, breathed evenly in slumber. The Ranger's eyes sought Gandalf next, but he could not discern if the Wizard slept or not.
Legolas, who sat propped against a wall as if loath to lay his head on the stony ground, was undoubtedly awake. Raised among elves, Aragorn could easily distinguish elven slumber, though in appearance it was vastly different from the sleep of mortals. The Prince's eyes were open, as they would be if he slept, but they had not the glazed far away look typical of elven repose. He would have to talk to the elf to determine the state of his mind.
Aragorn turned his immediate attention back to Boromir. "The fact is that 'cursed beast' of which you speak did not stay safe in his puddle. He robbed us of the choice to do otherwise, so we must go forward."
"Aragorn, the Hobbits are not up to this! This is too much to ask of the little ones!"
"I do not hear them complaining."
"They are frightened!"
"Anyone among us who is not should turn back now and seek the healing help of Lord Elrond!"
"Aragorn"
"What would you have me do? Tunnel through the walls with my bare hands?" Aragorn interrupted the would-be Steward of Gondor in frustration. "I know you think only of them, my friend. I have seen how fond you have grown of Merry and Pippin, but there is no other way."
Boromir considered the other man's words. "Aye. You are right. I am fond of them. I would not see this journey be the last they take."
"Nor would I, Boromir."
"It is fatigue and frustration talking. I will not speak of it again."
Aragorn nodded, and laying a comforting hand on Boromir's shoulder, he rose and made his way to Legolas.
For a moment, the elf considered feigning sleep, but he abandoned the thought almost as soon as it entered his head. He spoke first, not giving the Ranger time to consider his words. "What is it, Aragorn?"
"You should rest my friend."
"So should you."
"Legolas"
"Im mae, Estel." (I am well, Estel.)
Aragorn studied his friend's face, knowing the Prince of Mirkwood would not be well until he managed to escape this tomb. As soon as he thought it, he regretted thinking the word Boromir had uttered when they had entered the mines. He was gripped by dread that someone in their company would not make it to the other side of the mountain, and now, pondering the troubles he knew Legolas faced, he could not escape the thought that it would be his dear friend. Still, he could not voice this concern to Legolas.
"Losto mae, Legolas." (Sleep well, Legolas.)
"Losto mae, Estel." (Sleep well, Estel.)
**
Legolas managed somehow to doze, not deeply, but enough to make his own watch bearable. The Elf watched over his friends as they slept, pleased that Aragorn did seem to drift off as well. He dared not sing aloud, for the close walls and ceiling would make the sound echo, and would likely disturb the sleeping Fellowship. Distraction was imperative, however, so he recalled the words to song after song, hearing the melodies in his head. His eyes scanned the perimeter of their camp looking for any threat. With so much shadow, it was difficult to discern rocks from creatures, but, though his elven heart cried desperately for it, his elven eyes needed little light to see clearly.
The first hours of his watch were uneventful, but his mind did not wander. He dared not let it. The safety of his friends was his primary concern, and he knew if his attention were to stray to his own discomfort, he would jeopardize the very people he had sworn to protect.
As he scanned the shadows to his right, his keen elven ears identified some sound off to the left. He turned in that direction, knowing the sound, too faint to have been noticed by any other being, could be nothing more than a loose pebble. Of course, the pebble would have had to have been knocked or shaken loose somehow. The sound was not repeated. Instead, something slightly louder came from behind him. He whirled around again, but nothing greeted him. The sound was again gone, and though he felt every sense alert and aware, he sensed nothing further. He forced himself to relax slightly, and set to scanning the perimeter once again. Nothing. Habit forced his eyes upward to search the skies for Eärendil before he realized what he was doing. "Ai, Elbereth!" He thought, angry with himself for forgetting himself even for a moment. "Elbereth, have mercy. Help me through these darkest depths. I feel cut off from Iluvatar's Song! I feel naught but cold stone. Send strength if it pleases the Valar that I continue this quest."
He spoke in Sindarin having rarely spoken anything else. He did not worry about being overheard as everyone was asleep, and even if they weren't, only Aragorn and Mithrandir would understand his words.
He inhaled, wishing again for the clean fragrance of Middle-earth rather than the damp, mustiness of Moria. A slight movement caught his eye, and he turned, hand moving to his bow. Realizing is was Mithrandir stirring, he moved his hand quickly lest the Maia recognize his unease.
The Istari rose from where he'd slept, and, noting Legolas' position as their sentry, motioned for him to come closer. Gandalf met him halfway, and keeping his voice to a volume only an elf would hear, he asked how the night went.
"We are secure, Mithrandir. There is nothing here."
Gandalf nodded. "Anything living in Moria undoubtedly lives deeper."
Legolas was unable to suppress a shudder at the thought of being further below the surface than they were.
Gandalf busied himself with their supplies sorting out what they could spare for breakfast before setting out again when the others woke. He waved the Elf back to his duties as their evening guard, but while he worked, he kept an eye on the young Prince of Mirkwood. He had not lied to Aragorn when he'd claimed he hadn't wanted to lead the elf into Moria. His trepidation had been augmented by the fact that there were dangers in Moria that he would not have the Fellowship face if he could avoid it. Still, Legolas was a special case. The Wizard doubted neither the elf's bravery, nor his skills in battle. He had known Legolas all the Prince's life, and knew a more skilled archer in all of Middle-earth would be hard to find. No, it wasn't his prowess as a warrior that left Gandalf more than a little concerned. It was his spirit as a Woodland Elf. Legolas was raised as a Wood Elf in the Halls of King Thranduil. His connection to Middle-earth, to the trees, the stars, the very essence of Arda, was stronger than Gandalf had seen in an elf since the Elder days.
Cutting him off from the sun, the trees, from Eä itself, was much like cutting out his heart. Four days would seem unbearable to him, Gandalf knew, for he remembered too well something he now saw that Legolas had tried to forget. Hidden memories were rarely hidden long, however, and Gandalf could tell that Legolas' had resurfaced.
Gandalf watched the elf searching for signs of distress, but Legolas was adept at hiding his own suffering from those around him. The Wizard would have to pay close attention and remind Aragorn, as if such reminding were needed, to keep an eye on his friend.
In moments the others began to stir, and Gandalf was forced to abandon his surreptitious glances. As they sat to breakfast, Gimli, perhaps because he was the only dwarf present, felt the need to take on the role of host, historian, and tour guide.
"I trust you all slept well! There's nothing more restful than a night below ground!" He rubbed his hands together gleefully, not noticing the rather unelvish snort that came unbidden from Legolas' direction.
"Aye! And now, after a fine repast, I can tell you all about the mithril mines, or maybe explain how a diamond is coaxed whole and unmarred from the very stone upon which we stand!" His hearty laughter had the hobbits smiling in moments. Pippin asked question after question about mining, and what was done with all that the dwarves unearthed. Gimli was more than overjoyed to take on the role of instructor, and soon, as they continued their journey deeper into the mountain, he regaled them with tales of dwarven lore as well.
As he spoke, Gandalf and Aragorn conferred on their path.
Legolas tried to trail behind or move ahead to the front, but he was unable to distract his mind from Gimli's words. Attempting to see how slowly he could walk and still keep Gandalf's blessed, glowing staff in sight Legolas soon fell well behind the group. To his surprise, Boromir stopped walking and waited for him.
"We should stick together, Legolas. I appreciate you watching for danger approaching from behind, but we don't know what else is down here."
Legolas nodded, then realized the man could probably see less clearly in the dim light than he could. "You are right, Boromir. I would move more quickly if that blasted dwarf would just pause for breath!"
To his surprise, Boromir chuckled. "He is going on and on, isn't he. I suppose it's natural enough. He expected a grand greeting, and instead found nothing but death and devastation."
Legolas knew this had to have affected the dwarf. He felt it in his own heart, the sorrow of seeing so many dead, and they weren't even his people. How much worse must Gimli feel?
When he didn't reply, Boromir spoke again. "Never have I met a creature who could speak so eloquently of rock and stone!"
Legolas readily agreed. "Truly, he is a marvel." He turned his sharp eyes again to their surroundings searching for hidden dangers.
Boromir, encouraged by their conversation, decided to press his advantage. He studied the elf's profile until Legolas, feeling the weight of his stare, spoke without turning to face him. "Surely I have not sprouted an extra limb! What captures your attention?"
"Forgive me. I meant nothing by it. I have not had many dealings with elves. I wonder if my questions would offend you."
Legolas smiled, turning at last to face the man. "I wonder, too, Man of Gondor, and I am afraid we are both doomed to ponder that thought forever if you do not ask these questions of yours."
Boromir laughed. "You are right! So I will abandon caution and ask. I have heard it said that elves live forever. Is this so?"
Legolas was silent a moment. "We are immortal, meaning we will not age and die as humans do, but there are ways to kill an elf."
Boromir allowed his bewilderment to show. "Kill"
"We can be killed, and we can die. We can fall in battle. Our bodies are quick to heal, but even we are not indestructible. An arrow, a sword, a knife, orc poisona fall from a cliffan elf can die in any way a man can except from mere age or diseaseand of course there is always grief."
"Grief? You mean elves do die of grief! That is a wonder! I thought it a myth!"
Legolas looked at the man who had lived the smallest fraction if his own long life and the sorrow in his eyes momentarily robbed Boromir of breath. "It is no myth." He did not elaborate, but Boromir could see the truth of his words and the further truth that he did not speak; such death was not foreign to him.
"Well" Boromir began, searching his mind for another question so he could distract them both from what they had just shared. "I have heard other myths about elves. Is it true that elves hate men?"
"No cause do I know that has driven any lasting wedge between your people and mine. It is too much to say 'Elves hate Men'. I have known of some elves who do. I have also known elves who have forged strong bonds of friendship, family, and love with men."
"You speak of Aragorn. I sensed a strong bond between you when you spoke at the council."
Unconsciously, Legolas searched for his friend. Aragorn still walked by Gandalf, though now, Frodo walked between them. "Aragorn has long been as a brother to me. He was raised by elves in Rivendell. I have known him many years."
"So the heir of Isildur hid himself in Rivendell all this time." Boromir whispered his thoughts as though to himself. He'd often wondered if there even was a king to return to Gondor. Now it seemed he had his answer.
"He did not hide himself, Man of Gondor." Legolas' voice was hard and angry at the perceived slight to his friend. "He was but an infant when his mother first brought him to Lord Elrond. I don't know much about human families, but Elves do not cast out their kin when they are in need of help."
"Kin?"
"Lord Elrond and Aragorn."
"They are related?"
"Know you nothing of the history of Gondor? Aragorn is Numenorean."
Boromir felt like an idiot. "He's that Lord Elrond?"
Legolas' anger fled at the man's confusion. "There is no other."
"I must be thick! Legend comes to life before my eyes and I do not see it."
Legolas smiled. "Mortals have not the sight of elves."
"Are you sure you don't mean foresight, for by my life your Lord Elrond seemed to know more than he let on."
Legolas nodded, a serious expression on his face. "Lord Elrond often leaves others with that impression. Most likely because he knows more than he lets on."
Boromir stared at the elf, and the expression he wore forced Legolas to laugh. His light, joyful laughter echoed through the cavern drawing the attention of their companions and he was pleased he had given into the feeling of mischievousness. "Oh, Boromir!" Legolas said when his laughter slowed. "You have lightened my heart with your questions and your reactions to my answers! Truly, Man of Gondor, I must thank you. If you have more questions"
"Not at the moment," Boromir responded, an easy smile tugging the corners of his mouth and a bright twinkle in his eyes.
"Well, then you may answer some of mine. Aragorn is the only man I have known well. Is it true that, aside from he who was raised by the Lord of Imladris, that men resent elves?"
Boromir wanted to deny it. He wanted to assure Legolas that any feelings of resentment, distrust, or hatred by men for elves was isolated. When he examined his heart, he knew he couldn't. "It would be dishonest of me to say that there are not some menperhaps even many menwho do feel that way towards your kind. Mostly, from ignorance I imagine, or from jealousy. It seems a bitter draught indeed, that men, no matter how good, no matter how noble, must in the end turn to dust, while elves may live forever."
"I appreciate your honesty, Boromir, but perhaps men do not understand what elves have. Yes, we live foreverbarring death from battle or griefbut perhaps your kind does not understand the constant battle with grief can be most tormenting." When Boromir did not respond, Legolas continued. "Imagine a memory so sharp you can recall every moment of your life. Imagine that each grief you bear is as fresh as the moment it happened all the days of your unending life. Imagine that the passage of time does nothing to ease this suffering. Imagine that the home you love, the very world around you changes again and again while you remain the same, and, no matter how you long for it, you cannot turn back time to capture that time. You can only remember it in perfect clarity." His eyes drifted towards Aragorn. "Now, imagine knowing that your dearest friend, a mortal man who is more a brother to you than any of your own kind, will one day fade and die while you remain exactly as you were the moment you met him many decades ago. Imagine then that each time you see him after a long absence, you find on his face, in his eyes, in his entire physical form every indication that, though you may yet have decades–may even yet have a century or more–that time will pass in the blink of an eye."
Legolas' voice had grown quiet and somber as he spoke, and Boromir could hear the depths of sorrow. It shook him to his very soul. "I am sorry. I had no idea." He shrugged. "I suppose I still don't, though I understand better than I did before."
"As do I. Men envy what they do not understand. I hope that you, at least, do not. I would not want to think that my being an elf could cost me a friend."
Boromir smiled. "I would not deny camaraderie to you, Friend Legolas. I feel already that I can call on you in time of need if our moment at the doors to this accursed place is any indication. What care we how Elves and Men feel towards each other so long as Legolas and Boromir are friends?"
Legolas smiled once again, feeling warmth for this man. There was the potential here for a great friendship he knew. "You are indeed wise, Boromir.
"Not as wise, I fear, as I am pragmatic."
"One without the other is hardly possible let alone useful!"
Boromir's hearty laugh echoed through the caves.
**
Aragorn approached Gandalf just as they began to descend once again. Frodo had fallen into a discussion with Sam about someone named Rosie, and the Ranger had questions he could only ask of the wizard. "Legolas seems to fare better than we had imagined."
"I too heard the laughter, Aragorn. It is good he is finding some distraction, but my worry does not wane. He is still cut off from sun and sky."
"I don't understand. He is holding up well."
"He is. For now. We are moving at a goodly pace, and he is in the company of someone who has obviously found a way to distract him. We have also only been here for 12 hours. Wait a day or two and see how well he fares."
"What is it you expect, Gandalf? Is there some elven malady Lord Elrond has kept secret from me?"
"Not at all, Aragorn, but there is the matter of hisprevious experience in caves."
"He has said something to you?" Aragorn's concerned gaze fell on his longtime friend.
"No. Nor do I expect him to. He will bear this silently if he has his way." In his mind's eye, Gandalf saw not the prince who walked the paths of Moria, but one who had endured a much more solitary darkness.
Aragorn looked again at Legolas, his expression one of mixed anxiety and a forlorn wistfulness. "You know more than I about that. I did not see him for weeks after. Is there some reason you think he will fail?"
"I said not so."
"There are many things you do not say."
Gandalf smiled. "I have not the right to tell you of it. It is Legolas' tale. He will tell you when he is able."
Aragorn looked less than convinced of this.
To be continued
