Author's Note: A big thank you to my reviewers. I'm glad you like this story. I try to update often, so put it on your favorites list. Send me plot bugs, my pet meerkat likes to eat them.
Additional Note: This part gets a little weird. Elves are little different from humans with the exception of a few things: the ability to walk on snow, to always look perfect even covered in orc blood, mind speech, glowing in the dark, and bound elven males have the ability to nurse their mates.
Part Four: In The Darkness of Khazâd-dûm
Ithilin stirred in her sleep. When Legolas was not on watch she slept at his side. If he was, she stayed close to Aragorn. He had chuckled the first night she curled up in his embrace. He teased her gently about not liking to sleep alone. The human knew that she did not want another confrontation with Boromir.
Right now, her head rested against Legolas' chest, his arm draped over her slim shoulders. She stirred again, coming fully awake. Raising her head slightly, she peered about. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Frodo was on watch. Everyone else was asleep. The strong scent of moonflowers filled her nose. And something else. Something she couldn't identify. She lifted her head a little more, trying to get away from her mate's scent to identify the strange smell. As she did so, the cool night air brushed across the cheek that had lain against Legolas chilling the skin and making her shiver. Suddenly, she realized that her cheek was wet. She sat up, the sudden movement waking the elf.
"What is it?" he asked groggily, seeing the perplexed look on her face.
"I'm not sure." She answered.
"Ai! Not again!" he hissed softly, pulling his jerkin and tunic away from his body. "Ithilin, this is the third night in a row."
"What?"
"You apparently sweat a little too much, a'maelamin."
"I don't."
"Would you rather have me say that you drool worse than an orc?"
"I do not."
Aragorn gazed blearily over his shoulder at them, "Sorry to ruin your lover's quarrel, but the rest of us are trying to sleep."
"She drooled all over me." The elf said indignantly.
"No, I didn't. Besides you haven't minded certain things in the past, why start now."
"That's because it's cold."
"I swear, you are so vain."
"Legolas, are you sure it's drool or sweat?" Aragorn questioned.
"What else would it be?" Both of them asked.
Aragorn moved closer to the prince. He laid his hand against the wet spot on Legolas' jerkin then brought it to his nose. As he dropped his hand from his face a cockeyed grin tugged at his mouth.
"How long have you two been bound?" he asked, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a chuckle.
Legolas rolled his eyes at his friend, "Twenty years, you nift. Or have you forgotten?"
"But it lay dormant all those years, didn't it?"
"Yes, but what has that to do with a wet shirt?"
"Did you awaken the bond?"
"Yes . . ." Ithilin's voice trailed off as understanding lit her blue eyes. "Oh Valar!"
"What?" Legolas was still puzzled.
"It's milk." Aragorn and Ithilin said simultaneously.
"It's what?!"
Aragorn tried not to laugh at the expression on the prince's face. Legolas had no experience with this, being a royal. None of his family was bound, nor were any of his friends. The poor elf didn't understand what was happening.
The ranger sighed heavily and ran a hand through his dark hair. How was he going to explain this? Surely the prince had seen elflings at the breast.
"Legolas, you've seen babes with their mothers haven't you?"
"Aye. But you're not suggesting that I treat Ithilin that way, are you?"
"Not completely, no. Infants are totally dependent on their mother's milk, she is not. " Aragorn was surprised at how well the elf was taking this. "Right now, it seems that you have two choices. You can either follow your instincts or ignore it."
The elf gazed at his mate, searching for understanding.
"The need is not great yet, Legolas. It can wait." She said softly. "But to keep it at bay, I can not sleep beside you."
He shook his head as he began unhooking the catches on his jerkin and tunic. He kissed her gently and smiled. "If you need this, a'maelamin, then you shall have it."
"Are you sure?"
He pulled her into his strong embrace, his tunic falling open as he laid back. "Yes."
Ithilin nuzzled his neck affectionately before settling against him.
The prince's eyes closed in bliss as he felt her lips against his skin. He shifted his position so that he was curled around her and so she was shielded somewhat by his body.
"If you say anything about this," he warned the ranger, brushing his long hair over his shoulder, "I swear you will not see another sunrise."
"You should not find shame in this, mellon-nîn. As far as I'm concerned, you've reached the pinnacle of elven manhood." Aragorn settled back on his bedroll with his back to the pair. "I've seen this many times over the years. Glorfindel, Elladan, and Lindir to name a few."
"Aye, mellon-nîn, *you* have. But the others here with us have not. I have no desire to defend my masculinity against some fool who does not understand elves as well as you."
Aragorn chuckled. All things considering, Legolas was adjusting to this turn of events very well. He looked back over his shoulder. The elf's eyes were beginning to glaze in sleep. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his slender mouth as his mate's hand slid up his chest.
"Breathe a word of this and you're dead, Strider." The prince slurred sleepily.
"I promise, mellon-nîn."
* * *
"Gimli!" Gandalf shouted as the dwarf broke from the group, heading for an open hall.
The dwarf fell to his knees before a large stone slab, sobbing. His cousin was dead, as were all the dwarves of Moria. He barely noticed the others filing in behind him.
"It is as I feared." Gandalf said softly as he picked up a dusty book. Opening it he began to read. "They have taken the Seventh Hall . . ."
Legolas pulled Ithilin to him as he unbuckled his quiver harness.
"Not here." She whispered.
"I'm not giving you a choice." He hissed back. "You've let me go too long."
"Legolas, we are in too much danger here. Can you not feel it?"
"Aye. But I need you to take care of this now. It's painful."
Ithilin sighed. She was well aware of the pain he was feeling, having nursed Ararûn. "All right. But just enough to take the pressure off."
Quickly she unhooked the clasps on his tunic. A low moan of relief escaped his throat as she released the tension in his breast. Unconsciously, his hand slid up to cup the back of her head. His eyes were half closed as he tilted his head down burying his nose in her soft, golden hair.
Aragorn glanced in their direction at the sound and stifled a grin. They were taking a big risk doing this out in the open. The prince had to be very uncomfortable, to insist she do this now.
Just as Ithilin shifted to the other side, Boromir turned. He grinned smugly, eyeing the elf. "What's this?" he asked.
Legolas' eyes popped open in surprise. He pulled the little she-elf closer to him, protectively.
Realizing what was happening Ithilin began hooking the clasps on his tunic as she tried desperately to get one last draw of milk. She stepped away from him as he buckled the harness back in place, a large pearl of the pure white liquid trickling out of the corner of her mouth.
Boromir chuckled darkly, realizing what he had just witnessed. "So now we know your weakness, Master Elf." he said as he strode toward them.
"Boromir, leave them be." Aragorn stepped between them. He knew Legolas well enough to know the elf hated being cornered on something he felt was very private. And when cornered, he became dangerous.
"No, Aragorn. It appears that your elf friend has more female attributes than that she-elf." He sneered.
"Don't start something, Boromir." The ranger pleaded. "Elves are not just the warriors you've heard about in tales."
"Obviously."
"No. They are lovers, spouses, and mates, just as humans are."
"They are wet nurses too, it seems."
Aragorn shook his head. Boromir could not see how a race of fierce warriors could be such sensuous, loving creatures. To Aragorn, having grown up around elves, what Legolas was doing was the epitome of manhood.
"This does not change who he is. He is still very much a deadly warrior, Boromir."
"No, Aragorn. This is a weakness. And one we can not afford."
Legolas drew his bow and nocked an arrow to the string in one fluid movement, aiming the shaft at the man's head. "You are less a man than I first thought, son of Gondor." He hissed, "If you must know, Ithilin is my bondmate. What I give her, only serves to strengthen the bond between us. It is *not* a weakness."
"So, in the middle of a battle, you'd drop everything just for this?"
"Only infants can not suppress their hunger. Ithilin is an adult. The need, though strong, can be ignored. By both of us if necessary."
"The weakness of Men," Ithilin said in a deadly soft voice, laying her hand on Legolas' bow arm, "is lack of tolerance for things beyond their meager ability to understand. If you harass him further about this, you will answer to me. Is that clear?"
"Is that a threat, little one?"
"Yes. And I rarely make idle ones. Ask Aragorn."
The hollow sound of a skull hitting rock distracted their attention.
"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf growled dropping the book to the ground, "throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity."
The little hobbit cringed before the wizard, clutching the Istari's staff for support.
A deep drumming sound echoed through the hall, *doom . . . doom, doom . . . doom, doom, doom *, followed by a ululating cry.
"Orcs!" Legolas hissed, reaching for Ithilin.
Boromir raced to the door, closing it just seconds after two orc arrows embedded themselves in the rotting wood. "They have a cave troll." He said catching the halberd Legolas tossed at him to brace the door closed.
"Ithilin," he said softly as he grabbed up another axe and tossed it to Aragorn, "You do not have to fight. I will not think less of you."
"Iston, mel-nîn" she answered, drawing her own bow and nocking an arrow to the string.
"Stay close Gandalf," Aragorn called to the hobbits, pulling his bow from its sheath on his back.
The door creaked as the horde outside fell against it. Ithilin and Legolas released their arrows as one, listening to the beasts screech as the shafts found their mark. Finally the wood gave way and orcs spilled into the chamber. The three archers abandoned their bows for knives and swords in the press of bodies.
Boromir happened to glance in the she-elf direction. The feral look in her sapphire eyes was enough to give him pause. He watched in awe as, with one stroke of her elven blade, she severed the heads of three orcs and connected with the sword of another. She, like Legolas, was almost a blur of green and gold. She twisted and swerved from the orcs blades with the grace and ease of a dancer. Yet her powerful blows were something to be feared. She was proving to be much fiercer than the tales he'd been told about she-elves.
"Frodo!" Aragorn called as the little hobbit fell beneath the troll's spear. "Frodo, no!"
Merry and Pippin threw themselves onto the beasts back, attacking the thing ferociously with their short swords. Legolas nocked an arrow and let it fly, striking the creature in the soft skin of its throat. The hideous thing moaned then fell to the floor, dead.
The fellowship gathered around Aragorn who cradled the fallen hobbit in his arms. Suddenly, the little being gasped and coughed. His dark eyes blinked open, as if he were surprised that he was still alive.
"Frodo, that spear would have skewered a wild boar!" the ranger breathed in disbelief.
"I think there is more to this hobbit than meets the eye." Gandalf said seeing a silver glint under the hobbit's shirt.
Frodo opened his shirt. Underneath was a shiny corslet of Mithril, the neck of which was laced with scrolling leaves of green and gold.
"Mithril!" Gimli breathed. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins."
"Here's a pretty hobbit skin to wrap an elven princeling in." Aragorn smiled giving Legolas a small nod. He knew that the prince wore one similar to it. In fact, the leaf pattern suggested that it had once been Legolas' many centuries ago.
"I wondered what had happened to that." Legolas whispered to Ithilin. "Ararûn should have had it, yet I am glad that Frodo has it now."
"Where would Ararûn have worn it?" she chuckled.
"I don't know, maybe archery lessons?" he replied sarcastically.
"It wouldn't have done *him* any good, a'maelamin. Elladan or Elrohir, maybe. But not him."
The elf's quiet silver laughter filled the chamber. The thought of his son misfiring and accidentally hitting one of the twins was funny.
"What's so humorous?" the ranger asked, cocking an eyebrow at the two elves.
"Your brothers needing mithril coats around Ararûn." Ithilin chuckled.
"That was before I came back home." Aragorn grinned. "They looked like walking pincushions, I'm told."
Legolas lost it. The idea of the twins walking into the house with arrow shafts sticking out at odd angles from their bodies and rather disgruntled looks on their faces was too much for the Mirkwood prince.
Shrieks echoed through the halls. Orcs, lots of them, were heading in their direction.
"To the bridge of Khazâd-dûm!" Gandalf shouted, leading them out of the chamber.
The screams came from everywhere. The dark creatures boiled up out of the cracks in the floor, from the ceiling, surrounding them on all sides. The company was trapped in an ever shrinking circle of light.
Suddenly, a low growl rumbled through the dwarf city. The orcs gave a shuddering cry and began to scatter as a sinister red glow appeared in one of the doorways.
"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked, his clear blue eyes wide with fear.
Gandalf closed his eyes as if trying to remember something from the far distant past. "A Balrog." He said finally, "A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Swords are of no more use here. Run!"
No one needed any encouragement. They fled through an open door and down a flight of stairs. Boromir came to an abrupt halt as the steps gave way to nothingness. He teetered on the edge until Legolas grabbed him and pulled him to safety.
"Thank you." He said, his heart was pounding in his ears.
The elf nodded in acknowledgment, intent getting out of this dark, orc infested hell hole. He pushed Ithilin before him, keeping a hand on her quiver harness in unlikely event that she slipped. Coming to a break in the stairs, he grabbed her by the waist and jumped, landing gracefully on the other side.
"Gandalf!" he called to the Istari.
An orc arrow whistled past, just missing the wizard. Ithilin ducked out of her bow and fired off a rapid succession of arrows. The stairway was crumbling beneath the others before they could jump to safety. Another volley of arrows sang past, one grazing her bow arm as she released another barrage of her own. She hissed in pain but pushed the sensation out of her mind.
All but Estel and Frodo were across now. The gap had widened too far for them to jump. The whole chamber shuddered and a piece of the ceiling came crashing down on the stairway just behind the hobbit and the ranger.
"Hold on Frodo!" she heard him shout as more arrows sliced the air around them.
Her arrows were spent. Quickly, she reached for Legolas' and fired. Frodo and Aragorn needed all the time they could give them.
The stone stair rocked back and forth finally falling into the stair below. Legolas caught the ranger, keeping him from falling over the side as he landed.
They raced the rest of the way to the bridge. Gandalf stopped, allowing the others to get ahead of him.
"Over the bridge!" he commanded, turning back to face the demon, "Fly!"
Again, Legolas pushed her in front of him, his hand never leaving the quiver harness. As they reached the other side, they turned to see Gandalf standing in the middle of the bridge.
The Balrog cracked its whip, the sound made chills crawl up their spines.
"You shall not pass!" the Istari cried, striking the stone of the bridge with his staff. "I am the servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn. Go back to the Shadow!"
The winged demon's whip cracked again. Ithilin clung to her mate in fear.
"You shall not pass!" His staff hit the stone one final time, shattering as it made contact.
As the Balrog stepped onto the bridge, the stone gave way under its weight, sending it plummeting into the gaping chasm. Gandalf turned to head across, but the whip wrapped around his foot, pulling the Istari off the ledge.
"NO!" Aragorn exclaimed.
"Gandalf!" yelled Frodo.
"ADAR!" Ithilin cried, struggling against Legolas' strong arms.
"Fly, you fools!" he said breathlessly as he lost his hand hold and fell into darkness.
"NO!" the little hobbit sobbed, fighting Boromir's strangle hold on him as the human half carried half dragged the small being out of the east gate.
"Adar, no." she said in a choked whisper, "You were suppose to help me finish this."
Legolas didn't have time to think about what she had just said. Dodging arrows, he picked her up and ran for the gate, grateful to be out of that terrible darkness.
Additional Note: This part gets a little weird. Elves are little different from humans with the exception of a few things: the ability to walk on snow, to always look perfect even covered in orc blood, mind speech, glowing in the dark, and bound elven males have the ability to nurse their mates.
Part Four: In The Darkness of Khazâd-dûm
Ithilin stirred in her sleep. When Legolas was not on watch she slept at his side. If he was, she stayed close to Aragorn. He had chuckled the first night she curled up in his embrace. He teased her gently about not liking to sleep alone. The human knew that she did not want another confrontation with Boromir.
Right now, her head rested against Legolas' chest, his arm draped over her slim shoulders. She stirred again, coming fully awake. Raising her head slightly, she peered about. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Frodo was on watch. Everyone else was asleep. The strong scent of moonflowers filled her nose. And something else. Something she couldn't identify. She lifted her head a little more, trying to get away from her mate's scent to identify the strange smell. As she did so, the cool night air brushed across the cheek that had lain against Legolas chilling the skin and making her shiver. Suddenly, she realized that her cheek was wet. She sat up, the sudden movement waking the elf.
"What is it?" he asked groggily, seeing the perplexed look on her face.
"I'm not sure." She answered.
"Ai! Not again!" he hissed softly, pulling his jerkin and tunic away from his body. "Ithilin, this is the third night in a row."
"What?"
"You apparently sweat a little too much, a'maelamin."
"I don't."
"Would you rather have me say that you drool worse than an orc?"
"I do not."
Aragorn gazed blearily over his shoulder at them, "Sorry to ruin your lover's quarrel, but the rest of us are trying to sleep."
"She drooled all over me." The elf said indignantly.
"No, I didn't. Besides you haven't minded certain things in the past, why start now."
"That's because it's cold."
"I swear, you are so vain."
"Legolas, are you sure it's drool or sweat?" Aragorn questioned.
"What else would it be?" Both of them asked.
Aragorn moved closer to the prince. He laid his hand against the wet spot on Legolas' jerkin then brought it to his nose. As he dropped his hand from his face a cockeyed grin tugged at his mouth.
"How long have you two been bound?" he asked, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a chuckle.
Legolas rolled his eyes at his friend, "Twenty years, you nift. Or have you forgotten?"
"But it lay dormant all those years, didn't it?"
"Yes, but what has that to do with a wet shirt?"
"Did you awaken the bond?"
"Yes . . ." Ithilin's voice trailed off as understanding lit her blue eyes. "Oh Valar!"
"What?" Legolas was still puzzled.
"It's milk." Aragorn and Ithilin said simultaneously.
"It's what?!"
Aragorn tried not to laugh at the expression on the prince's face. Legolas had no experience with this, being a royal. None of his family was bound, nor were any of his friends. The poor elf didn't understand what was happening.
The ranger sighed heavily and ran a hand through his dark hair. How was he going to explain this? Surely the prince had seen elflings at the breast.
"Legolas, you've seen babes with their mothers haven't you?"
"Aye. But you're not suggesting that I treat Ithilin that way, are you?"
"Not completely, no. Infants are totally dependent on their mother's milk, she is not. " Aragorn was surprised at how well the elf was taking this. "Right now, it seems that you have two choices. You can either follow your instincts or ignore it."
The elf gazed at his mate, searching for understanding.
"The need is not great yet, Legolas. It can wait." She said softly. "But to keep it at bay, I can not sleep beside you."
He shook his head as he began unhooking the catches on his jerkin and tunic. He kissed her gently and smiled. "If you need this, a'maelamin, then you shall have it."
"Are you sure?"
He pulled her into his strong embrace, his tunic falling open as he laid back. "Yes."
Ithilin nuzzled his neck affectionately before settling against him.
The prince's eyes closed in bliss as he felt her lips against his skin. He shifted his position so that he was curled around her and so she was shielded somewhat by his body.
"If you say anything about this," he warned the ranger, brushing his long hair over his shoulder, "I swear you will not see another sunrise."
"You should not find shame in this, mellon-nîn. As far as I'm concerned, you've reached the pinnacle of elven manhood." Aragorn settled back on his bedroll with his back to the pair. "I've seen this many times over the years. Glorfindel, Elladan, and Lindir to name a few."
"Aye, mellon-nîn, *you* have. But the others here with us have not. I have no desire to defend my masculinity against some fool who does not understand elves as well as you."
Aragorn chuckled. All things considering, Legolas was adjusting to this turn of events very well. He looked back over his shoulder. The elf's eyes were beginning to glaze in sleep. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his slender mouth as his mate's hand slid up his chest.
"Breathe a word of this and you're dead, Strider." The prince slurred sleepily.
"I promise, mellon-nîn."
* * *
"Gimli!" Gandalf shouted as the dwarf broke from the group, heading for an open hall.
The dwarf fell to his knees before a large stone slab, sobbing. His cousin was dead, as were all the dwarves of Moria. He barely noticed the others filing in behind him.
"It is as I feared." Gandalf said softly as he picked up a dusty book. Opening it he began to read. "They have taken the Seventh Hall . . ."
Legolas pulled Ithilin to him as he unbuckled his quiver harness.
"Not here." She whispered.
"I'm not giving you a choice." He hissed back. "You've let me go too long."
"Legolas, we are in too much danger here. Can you not feel it?"
"Aye. But I need you to take care of this now. It's painful."
Ithilin sighed. She was well aware of the pain he was feeling, having nursed Ararûn. "All right. But just enough to take the pressure off."
Quickly she unhooked the clasps on his tunic. A low moan of relief escaped his throat as she released the tension in his breast. Unconsciously, his hand slid up to cup the back of her head. His eyes were half closed as he tilted his head down burying his nose in her soft, golden hair.
Aragorn glanced in their direction at the sound and stifled a grin. They were taking a big risk doing this out in the open. The prince had to be very uncomfortable, to insist she do this now.
Just as Ithilin shifted to the other side, Boromir turned. He grinned smugly, eyeing the elf. "What's this?" he asked.
Legolas' eyes popped open in surprise. He pulled the little she-elf closer to him, protectively.
Realizing what was happening Ithilin began hooking the clasps on his tunic as she tried desperately to get one last draw of milk. She stepped away from him as he buckled the harness back in place, a large pearl of the pure white liquid trickling out of the corner of her mouth.
Boromir chuckled darkly, realizing what he had just witnessed. "So now we know your weakness, Master Elf." he said as he strode toward them.
"Boromir, leave them be." Aragorn stepped between them. He knew Legolas well enough to know the elf hated being cornered on something he felt was very private. And when cornered, he became dangerous.
"No, Aragorn. It appears that your elf friend has more female attributes than that she-elf." He sneered.
"Don't start something, Boromir." The ranger pleaded. "Elves are not just the warriors you've heard about in tales."
"Obviously."
"No. They are lovers, spouses, and mates, just as humans are."
"They are wet nurses too, it seems."
Aragorn shook his head. Boromir could not see how a race of fierce warriors could be such sensuous, loving creatures. To Aragorn, having grown up around elves, what Legolas was doing was the epitome of manhood.
"This does not change who he is. He is still very much a deadly warrior, Boromir."
"No, Aragorn. This is a weakness. And one we can not afford."
Legolas drew his bow and nocked an arrow to the string in one fluid movement, aiming the shaft at the man's head. "You are less a man than I first thought, son of Gondor." He hissed, "If you must know, Ithilin is my bondmate. What I give her, only serves to strengthen the bond between us. It is *not* a weakness."
"So, in the middle of a battle, you'd drop everything just for this?"
"Only infants can not suppress their hunger. Ithilin is an adult. The need, though strong, can be ignored. By both of us if necessary."
"The weakness of Men," Ithilin said in a deadly soft voice, laying her hand on Legolas' bow arm, "is lack of tolerance for things beyond their meager ability to understand. If you harass him further about this, you will answer to me. Is that clear?"
"Is that a threat, little one?"
"Yes. And I rarely make idle ones. Ask Aragorn."
The hollow sound of a skull hitting rock distracted their attention.
"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf growled dropping the book to the ground, "throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity."
The little hobbit cringed before the wizard, clutching the Istari's staff for support.
A deep drumming sound echoed through the hall, *doom . . . doom, doom . . . doom, doom, doom *, followed by a ululating cry.
"Orcs!" Legolas hissed, reaching for Ithilin.
Boromir raced to the door, closing it just seconds after two orc arrows embedded themselves in the rotting wood. "They have a cave troll." He said catching the halberd Legolas tossed at him to brace the door closed.
"Ithilin," he said softly as he grabbed up another axe and tossed it to Aragorn, "You do not have to fight. I will not think less of you."
"Iston, mel-nîn" she answered, drawing her own bow and nocking an arrow to the string.
"Stay close Gandalf," Aragorn called to the hobbits, pulling his bow from its sheath on his back.
The door creaked as the horde outside fell against it. Ithilin and Legolas released their arrows as one, listening to the beasts screech as the shafts found their mark. Finally the wood gave way and orcs spilled into the chamber. The three archers abandoned their bows for knives and swords in the press of bodies.
Boromir happened to glance in the she-elf direction. The feral look in her sapphire eyes was enough to give him pause. He watched in awe as, with one stroke of her elven blade, she severed the heads of three orcs and connected with the sword of another. She, like Legolas, was almost a blur of green and gold. She twisted and swerved from the orcs blades with the grace and ease of a dancer. Yet her powerful blows were something to be feared. She was proving to be much fiercer than the tales he'd been told about she-elves.
"Frodo!" Aragorn called as the little hobbit fell beneath the troll's spear. "Frodo, no!"
Merry and Pippin threw themselves onto the beasts back, attacking the thing ferociously with their short swords. Legolas nocked an arrow and let it fly, striking the creature in the soft skin of its throat. The hideous thing moaned then fell to the floor, dead.
The fellowship gathered around Aragorn who cradled the fallen hobbit in his arms. Suddenly, the little being gasped and coughed. His dark eyes blinked open, as if he were surprised that he was still alive.
"Frodo, that spear would have skewered a wild boar!" the ranger breathed in disbelief.
"I think there is more to this hobbit than meets the eye." Gandalf said seeing a silver glint under the hobbit's shirt.
Frodo opened his shirt. Underneath was a shiny corslet of Mithril, the neck of which was laced with scrolling leaves of green and gold.
"Mithril!" Gimli breathed. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins."
"Here's a pretty hobbit skin to wrap an elven princeling in." Aragorn smiled giving Legolas a small nod. He knew that the prince wore one similar to it. In fact, the leaf pattern suggested that it had once been Legolas' many centuries ago.
"I wondered what had happened to that." Legolas whispered to Ithilin. "Ararûn should have had it, yet I am glad that Frodo has it now."
"Where would Ararûn have worn it?" she chuckled.
"I don't know, maybe archery lessons?" he replied sarcastically.
"It wouldn't have done *him* any good, a'maelamin. Elladan or Elrohir, maybe. But not him."
The elf's quiet silver laughter filled the chamber. The thought of his son misfiring and accidentally hitting one of the twins was funny.
"What's so humorous?" the ranger asked, cocking an eyebrow at the two elves.
"Your brothers needing mithril coats around Ararûn." Ithilin chuckled.
"That was before I came back home." Aragorn grinned. "They looked like walking pincushions, I'm told."
Legolas lost it. The idea of the twins walking into the house with arrow shafts sticking out at odd angles from their bodies and rather disgruntled looks on their faces was too much for the Mirkwood prince.
Shrieks echoed through the halls. Orcs, lots of them, were heading in their direction.
"To the bridge of Khazâd-dûm!" Gandalf shouted, leading them out of the chamber.
The screams came from everywhere. The dark creatures boiled up out of the cracks in the floor, from the ceiling, surrounding them on all sides. The company was trapped in an ever shrinking circle of light.
Suddenly, a low growl rumbled through the dwarf city. The orcs gave a shuddering cry and began to scatter as a sinister red glow appeared in one of the doorways.
"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked, his clear blue eyes wide with fear.
Gandalf closed his eyes as if trying to remember something from the far distant past. "A Balrog." He said finally, "A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Swords are of no more use here. Run!"
No one needed any encouragement. They fled through an open door and down a flight of stairs. Boromir came to an abrupt halt as the steps gave way to nothingness. He teetered on the edge until Legolas grabbed him and pulled him to safety.
"Thank you." He said, his heart was pounding in his ears.
The elf nodded in acknowledgment, intent getting out of this dark, orc infested hell hole. He pushed Ithilin before him, keeping a hand on her quiver harness in unlikely event that she slipped. Coming to a break in the stairs, he grabbed her by the waist and jumped, landing gracefully on the other side.
"Gandalf!" he called to the Istari.
An orc arrow whistled past, just missing the wizard. Ithilin ducked out of her bow and fired off a rapid succession of arrows. The stairway was crumbling beneath the others before they could jump to safety. Another volley of arrows sang past, one grazing her bow arm as she released another barrage of her own. She hissed in pain but pushed the sensation out of her mind.
All but Estel and Frodo were across now. The gap had widened too far for them to jump. The whole chamber shuddered and a piece of the ceiling came crashing down on the stairway just behind the hobbit and the ranger.
"Hold on Frodo!" she heard him shout as more arrows sliced the air around them.
Her arrows were spent. Quickly, she reached for Legolas' and fired. Frodo and Aragorn needed all the time they could give them.
The stone stair rocked back and forth finally falling into the stair below. Legolas caught the ranger, keeping him from falling over the side as he landed.
They raced the rest of the way to the bridge. Gandalf stopped, allowing the others to get ahead of him.
"Over the bridge!" he commanded, turning back to face the demon, "Fly!"
Again, Legolas pushed her in front of him, his hand never leaving the quiver harness. As they reached the other side, they turned to see Gandalf standing in the middle of the bridge.
The Balrog cracked its whip, the sound made chills crawl up their spines.
"You shall not pass!" the Istari cried, striking the stone of the bridge with his staff. "I am the servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn. Go back to the Shadow!"
The winged demon's whip cracked again. Ithilin clung to her mate in fear.
"You shall not pass!" His staff hit the stone one final time, shattering as it made contact.
As the Balrog stepped onto the bridge, the stone gave way under its weight, sending it plummeting into the gaping chasm. Gandalf turned to head across, but the whip wrapped around his foot, pulling the Istari off the ledge.
"NO!" Aragorn exclaimed.
"Gandalf!" yelled Frodo.
"ADAR!" Ithilin cried, struggling against Legolas' strong arms.
"Fly, you fools!" he said breathlessly as he lost his hand hold and fell into darkness.
"NO!" the little hobbit sobbed, fighting Boromir's strangle hold on him as the human half carried half dragged the small being out of the east gate.
"Adar, no." she said in a choked whisper, "You were suppose to help me finish this."
Legolas didn't have time to think about what she had just said. Dodging arrows, he picked her up and ran for the gate, grateful to be out of that terrible darkness.