Chapter 2: In the Realm of Shadows

After the loss of Gandalf, Aragorn became the leader of the Fellowship. The matter was never really discussed amongst the Company; the son of Arathorn slipped into the role of the leader inconspicuously.

The journey toward Mount Doom took them into the mythic Elven realm of Lothlórien despite Gimli the Dwarf's objections. It was a tale told among the Dwarves that a powerful Elvish sorceress dwelled in the woods of Lórien, where seldom anyone dared enter and whence none returned. Boromir, too, was skeptical about the wisdom of the route.

"The warning signs are not to be taken lightly, Aragorn. I have heard ill tales about these woods. You have taken us along dangerous paths, and I only hope you are not leading us into peril."

"It was Gandalf's plan to seek the way to Lothlórien. Unless you wish to return to Moria and therefrom head for Minas Tirith, there is no other way," replied Aragorn. His words were met with silence and the discussion was not brought up again, as the truth of his words went unquestioned.

The Fellowship was downcast, but their spirits had begun to improve as each member came to terms with the loss of Gandalf. To an inexperienced eye, the Fellowship seemed to be holding together as well as they had before entering the fateful Moria. However, their minds were in turmoil, and the Ring used its malicious charm to take advantage of it.

Aragorn was constantly on edge. He hid his anxiety well, but at times, the tension broke to the surface: he was absent-minded or snapped a word here and there, and he reacted tensely to the sound of the slightest noise.

They were sitting by a campfire when Aragorn stood up suddenly and reached for his sword-hilt. Soon, the others heard a rustle of leaves, and then the familiar form of Boromir stepped into the light of the campfire. Aragorn sighed and sat down again, fixing his eyes on the fire. Boromir dropped the firewood and came to sit beside him. Gimli and the hobbits, save Frodo, were enjoying the fire, too; Legolas was nowhere to be seen, and the Ring-bearer lay hidden in the shadows just barely within the camp area.

"Is something amiss?" asked Boromir casually. He threw a sidelong glance at Aragorn, who raised an eyebrow in response. "Your unease is most unnerving," he continued.

Aragorn managed a smile and replied, "No, nothing is wrong. I fear this campfire may attract enemies."

Aragorn's eyes never left the fire. The warmth of the flames was friendly and welcoming, and yet they reminded him of the flames of the Balrog in Moria. The dreadful events were fresh in his memory; he could not bring himself to forget how close he had been to giving in to the Ring's temptation, and he blamed himself for Gandalf having to sacrifice himself.

Aragorn's bleak thoughts were cut off by Sam, who had sensed the tenseness and interrupted in his delightful manner. "The fire is very welcome, Strider. We'll be finally able to fix something decent to eat."

Aragorn could not help but smile at this. Hobbits were such an indomitable race: even at the moment of deepest grief, they thought of eating. He suppressed a chuckle and replied with a smile, "Really, Sam? Haven't the day's four meals satisfied your yearning for food?"

Sam blushed and muttered something about leading a "healthy and decent life for a hobbit." Sam's aim to lighten up their moods had succeeded, and Merry and Pippin started a good-natured argument about food. Sam scouted around for his Master and found him hidden in the shadows, sitting against a tree-trunk. For a moment, Sam considered going to him, but then abandoned the thought. Frodo obviously did not want their company, and he grieved his Master's withdrawal bitterly.

Frodo barely noticed the talks by the campfire, for he was preoccupied with his own thoughts. He still thought back to the pain and shock he had felt outside Moria at the realization that he could not trust even his oath-sworn protector. For days, he had kept a close eye on the Fellowship, especially on the men, watching for any signs of their yielding to the lure of the Ring. The gravity of his thoughts was not revealed to anyone, but the Eye watched the Ring-bearer's torment with wicked contentment.

Legolas soon returned to the campsite, wearing his normal mask of tranquility. His absence was not questioned, as all assumed he has been sure the surroundings were secure. He never told how he had gone to sit under the beloved trees to fight against the pain. Ever since the Ring had found a way to get to him, to whisper sweet little things and lure him with all its might, he had been suffering from increasingly painful headaches.

Legolas was at the mercy of an enemy far more perilous than any orc or other foul being in Middle-earth. The elf could not yet make out the words the Ring spoke, but the whispering made his head throb in pain. If he was ever caught rubbing his temples, he would just stop and retreat before anyone could wonder about the headaches that the Elves were not supposed to have. His absences, such as this one, went unquestioned or even unnoticed.

Gimli had no such worries as he sat by the campfire, listening to the hobbits' debate with amusement. He was still spared from the painful torment of Isildur's Bane. Perhaps there was something about the dwarf with which the Ring not comfortable, something it did not wish to awaken. Maybe it was the isolated nature of the Dwarves, the way they lived in the solitary mountain caves, that had blessed Gimli with a resistance comparable to that of the Hobbits, who had hidden from the world for centuries.

Surely the dwarf and even the young hobbits could feel the Ring reach tentatively for them, but the evil charm did not affect them the way it seduced the men and pained the elf. At the moment, the Ruling Ring did not seek new slaves; it strove to cause havoc and disarray amongst the Fellowship. On the outside, they seemed like a company resting at their campsite, but more was going on under the surface than anyone could have guessed.


With each member fighting his inner demons, the Fellowship entered the Golden Wood. Even Gimli, who was suspicious of their chosen path, silently agreed with Legolas, who praised the beauty of the woods passionately. The lush forest was not only green, but also seemed to shine in faint gold, reminding Gimli of the precious metal. Pippin picked a green leaf from the ground and yelped from delight when it cast a faint golden ray at him before fading to common dark green.

The forest was wonderful and magical, but also perilous. The Company had not paid enough attention to possible threat and soon paid the price of their carelessness: quick as shadows, three Elf-warriors emerged from the trees above. Not even Legolas, usually swift to react, could act before he was faced with sharp arrows, ready to be fired from the drawn bows.

However, the elves did not seem concerned with him or the Fellowship in general. They fixed their stares at Gimli, who glared back in rage. Aragorn carefully stepped in front to speak with the elves. There was an exchange in Elvish and soon Legolas joined the conversation, too. To the surprise of the others, the elves then lowered their bows and one of them gave a laugh.

"Did you think you could enter the realm of the Lady in secret?" their leader said in common tongue, amused. "She has known of your arrival long before." Then his smile faded and he gave a meaningful look to Gimli, who had little trouble noting the elf's obvious distaste for him.

At this point, Legolas spoke on his own accord and argued over something with his kinsmen. Aragorn remained silent and listened intently while the others wondered what was happening. The elves reached an agreement of some sort, and Legolas spoke to the Company.

"The Elves of Lórien will take us to the city. They say that the Lady of the Wood has been expecting us."

"My Lady has been expecting the hobbits," the leader said. "I am Haldir, and the Lady Galadriel requests that you follow us. Indeed, you have little choice in the matter." Again, the elf cast a disdainful look at Gimli and continued, "The Lady wishes that the dwarf would accompany you." It was evident how Haldir felt about the Lady's order. Before Gimli or anyone else had a chance to respond, he said:

"The dwarf must, of course, be blindfolded. We cannot let just anyone see the secrets of the Wood."

"What kind of a fool do you take me for? I shall be dead before surrendering to such folly!" Gimli roared as he took his axe in his hand. In response, the Elves of Lórien drew their bows again with deadly swiftness.

In silence, the opponents eyed each other, and it could have ended in bloodshed, had Aragorn not intervened.

"Calm yourself, Gimli," he spoke. "Do not make this harder for all of us." His quick squeeze on Gimli's shoulder told that he was more anxious than what he let on.

"They question the trustworthiness of my kindred and me. I shall not let the insult pass!"

"Gimli...," Aragorn said in a low voice. "This is the time neither for pride nor stubbornness. Lower your axe."

Gimli snorted in response and held his weapon even tighter. The company watched in silence as Aragorn whispered something to Gimli, who gnarled in response. Aragorn's stature stiffened and he spoke to Gimli once more, only to be met by adamant resistance.

As tension grew higher, Legolas' headache got the better of him and he snapped at Gimli. "Dwarves and their stiff necks!" he cried. "Agree to the request. They have the right to ask it."

The sudden outburst from the usually composed elf raised a few eyebrows in the Fellowship, but it provoked Gimli even further and soon he and Legolas got into a heated argument that could not bear repeating. They were cut off by Aragorn losing his patience.

"Silence!" he snapped. Aragorn faced the Elf-warriors and spoke, "We need not be treated differently from Gimli. If he must be blindfolded by your law or order, then we shall all travel blindfolded as a Company, take it as long as it may."

Legolas was about to protest, but Aragorn cast him such a furious look that he was taken aback and chose to remain silent. Aragorn forced Gimli's axe down with his hand and said gruffly to both of them, "Deal with your own grudges another time."

His unexpected anger quieted everybody. Members of the Company allowed the blindfolding and began their travel to the city in reticence. The silence was partly due to the lack of a mutual tongue; only Haldir, the leader of the Elf-warriors, spoke Westron in his slow and careful manner. The others, who were at some point introduced as his brothers Rúmil and Orophin, spoke only their own Elvish tongue.


The journey took several days, but they fared without further confrontations. Even at night-time the elves guarded them, making sure that they would not slip off their blindfolds. Eventually the guards and the captives reached the border of the City of the Trees, and the blinding cloths were removed. Legolas, especially, seemed to forget about his grudge the moment he set his eyes upon the beauty of Lothlórien. The city, built in perfect harmony with the trees, shone faint light which, together with trees' natural luminance, made the bordering woods glitter with gold.

"Elbereth," Boromir whispered. Sam wasn't any more subtle with his exclamation, "Wonderful!" and was met with approving mumbling.

Haldir didn't allow them to dwell on the sight for too long. He was in a haste to enter the city, and he led the others onward over a journey that was longer than what met the eye. Once they entered the city through the northern gate, Haldir led them to a tall tree-tower to meet the rulers of Lothlórien, Galadriel and Celeborn. They followed obediently, though Gimli's expression told clearly that he would rather have stayed behind.


The meeting with the Lord and the Lady was not as intimidating as they had feared. The Lady Galadriel, beautiful yet cold as ice, greeted the Company in friendship. However, soon the Lord Celeborn questioned them about Gandalf the Grey's absence. The mood changed into a less welcoming one when Aragorn spoke the gloomy news of the fall of Mithrandir. Grief descended upon Lothlórien, and beautiful Elvish voices began a lament for the great Istari. while the Lady Galadriel continued her formal greetings that spoke of evil and the great burden they carried. Then, the sorceress uttered the ominous words:

"Hope remains as long as the Fellowship is without deceit."

It could have been considered a fair warning, but the Fellowship took it like a personal threat. A new tension settled among the remaining eight. Frodo felt his breath hasten at this sudden change in atmosphere and, when glancing at the others, saw that they seemed to change somehow, one by one. Galadriel, bewitchingly beautiful and graceful, spoke in an even tone, but something else took place at the same time. Boromir drew a sudden breath and fixed his eyes upon the Lady. Aragorn had bowed his head, but suddenly drew it up and stared at the sorceress as if seeing her for the first time. Legolas' eyes flickered barely noticeably. Then Frodo heard a voice saying:

Welcome to Lothlórien, Frodo of the Shire.

Frodo startled at the sudden voice inside his head and glanced around to see if anyone else had heard it. No one seemed to have noticed except Sam, who shot him a concerned glance. Frodo shrugged it off and concentrated on the melodious voice of Galadriel in his mind.

You have traveled a perilous journey, Frodo Baggins. Rest, for you are safe in Lothlórien. Galadriel smiled ever so slightly and gazed intently at Frodo.

I trust your word, Milady. I am weary, and so are others.

You still have a long journey to go. Great perils lie ahead of you. Galadriel's smile faded away.

I do not know what threatens me so. Speak your words of advice, Milady, and I will obey your warning. Frodo was desperate for an answer and begged her council with his eyes. The Elf-queen seemed hesitant, and Frodo feared she had taken offense somehow. Then, the voice whispered to him once more:

He will try to take the Ring. You know of whom I speak.

The Lady ceased her speech of welcome, which had continued throughout the private exchange, and urged the Fellowship to take the opportunity to rest. She then left the premises with the Lord Celeborn. The servants came to guide the eight to their resting place, but Frodo paid no attention to them. "You know of whom I speak." Galadriel's words echoed in his mind, but truthfully, the Ring-bearer had no idea.

T.B.C.


Huge thanks to all my betas: Architeuchtis, for the excellent proofreading and suggestions which made me want to develop the fic further; Kitty-Rose, for coming to my help and doing the check-up betaing; al, (alliwantisanelfforchristmas) for yet another proofreading and bunch of stylistic advice. This chapter needed much revision in both grammatical and literary aspects, and I appreciate all the trouble she went through.

Revised May and September 2003. Revised 2010.