Chapter 2

Gimli's grip fell away from his friend and his tears began to dry.

"What happened after I fell?" he asked after some length.

Licking his dry lips Legolas answered as best as he could: "After you fell Gandalf knew there was no way we could defend ourselves. He used his staff and spells, the orcs fell back afraid." He said, "At first I thought I was imagining it but I wasn't. They were vanishing! I saw Aufstand break her gaze away and load her bow. I tried to call to Gandalf but I was too late. She struck him upon the arm and he dropped his staff. I went to support him but…" he paused "she shot me and I fell" he frowned slightly rubbing his neck. And for the first time Gimli saw he was wearing a high collar tunic, beneath it his neck was red and bloody but not severely hurt. When Legolas rubbed it Gimli saw a flash – he had chain mail sown onto his high collar!

"I don't know what happened to Sam or Gandalf" Legolas continued slightly confused, "I only woke up when something brushed past me"
 "That would be Shelob" Gimli said darkly.

"Shelob? The spider Sam and Frodo fought? I thought they had killed her"

Gimli shook his head: "She certainly didn't act as if she was dead. She's hiding somewhere at this moment. I think I scared her" he grinned.

"All the same we need to be careful. She may return at anytime, the spiders in Mirkwood use the attack of surprise very well and from what I remember Sam telling me she sounds like she is a spider from the forest."

"But what do we do now?" Gimli asked.

Legolas did not answer at first. Then he said: "We must see to ourselves, treat these hurts and eat something to regain some strength. But I can see little here, we should find a way out and more light."

Gimli agreed, like Legolas he did not wish to speed much more time in the underground tunnel where so many of his new friends met their deaths.

 Before they turned away Legolas insisted they searched for their luggage, especially for herbs and food supplies. Gimli grumbled a little searching blindly in hostile land was not his preferred action. He saw Legolas's silhouette bend down to pick something up and attach it round his waist.

The dwarf frowned: "What are you doing?" he asked watching Legolas pull some undamaged arrows from an orc.

"Surely Gimli you understand the importance of arming ones self"

Of course he knew, perhaps the darkness was playing tricks on him.

"What's that then?" he asked pointing to the sword Legolas wore round his waist.

His eyes fell down upon the blade and replied sadly: "It was Ruzlina's".

"Oh, I see" Gimli hoisted his pack higher up into his back, blushing slightly. "I can not believe Aufstand would do such a thing" he said.

Legolas turned to him: "I do" he said and Gimli looked at him sternly. "She is Cassione's sister"

"Sister!" Gimli snorted angrily. "Yet you chose her to come along!"

"Please understand Gimli!" Legolas said becoming angry in turn, "Not every choice was my own. She wanted to go, we needed everyone we could."
"But why her? Why didn't you just tell her 'no'?" Gimli couldn't let go.

"How was I supposed to know she would do this?"

"Treachery runs in the family"

"Does that mean you will be any disappearing, master dwarf?" Legolas rounded on him.

Gimli shook his head and said loudly: "Now look here, Master elf. My father did not disappear, he did not betray you in any way – it was your father's impolite and inhuman treatment –"

"Don't you dare insult my father!" Legolas roared dropping his pack and drawing the sword at his side.

Gimli mirrored him, dumped his back and drew his axe in one swift movement.

"Elves were always the weaker ones, no wonder the Alliances between Elves and Dwarves broke as did the Alliance between Elves and Men" Gimli sneered, "Treacherous creatures"

"We are not greedy like the race of Dwarves. We aid those in need unlike your own kin, who'd rather let the world outside fall as long as they can mine" Legolas stepped closer, his eyes blazing in the darkness, "You wouldn't even notice if war marched upon you land until the world came crashing down around your ears!"

"I'd rather mine then arse around with tress and flowers, prancing about like fairies!"

"No, you would rather spend your existence underground away from sunlight and life"

"Life? More like Elf-magic!" Gimli spat.

That was the final draw. Like an arrow from a bow Legolas leapt forward with the sword drawn and his mouth stringing curses.

 However he never did cause harm to the dwarf something else came between them. Something large and hairy.

 Shelob.

With a spindly leg she kicked Gimli into the darkness and with another knocked Legolas to the ground.

The spell was broken.

Gimli groaned and picked himself up off the ground, his mind reeling. What just happened? Why was his axe drawn? And what was he doing over here? The last thing he could remember was talking to Legolas about Aufstand treachery and…what was that?

 He snapped his head around and shouted – the huge spider of Shelob had returned! She was thrusting her stinger onto the ground time and time again. He heard something cut the air and Shelob screech.

 His heart leapt in his chest – Legolas she was pinning him down!

He ran hard towards them crying loudly into the dark, stinking air.

The spider glanced at him quickly then kicked out at him before he came too close. Again he found himself spinning across the earth floor upon his back into the shadows.

 Again Legolas cut the air with the sword and Gimli rose to his feet to fight with his friend. He could see the blond figure dance in between her great legs, the acquired sword flashing. Obviously he had regained his wits after her initial attack. He heard the spider shriek and wither back a step before dropping her weight down, her stinger striking empty soil.

 Gimli ran towards then and swung his axe as he went. As before Shelob kicked out again but caught the metal axe head as the dwarf swung.

 Her screech made Gimli cringe and he could see Legolas cover his ears. Though Cassione had made him mortal his senses where still sharp. The noise must be painfully deafening in his ears. Black blood stained the floor as Shelob recoiled her leg shrieking in agony.

 Instantly Legolas and Gimli took the opportunity to strike once her screeching had eased. Gimli swung his axe halving another leg whilst Legolas nimbly leapt upon her back. Sheathed the sword and began stabbing with his twin blades.

 Confused and in agony Shelob turned and lurched wildly to dislodge her attacker upon her back and crush the one around her feet.

 But Legolas held on, jamming his blades into her flesh, after all after riding a Mûmakil a spider wouldn't be that hard. Beneath him Gimli dodged and swung his axe cutting legs and her underbelly. She became in raged and scaled the nearest wall heading towards the cave ceiling attempting to dislodge her attacker from above.

 Quickly before she climbed too high Legolas slide off and landed next to Gimli's side. They exchanged a quick glance between each other before finding themselves parted by a great force and shedding more blood.

***

She had heard raised voices within her nest. She was still very angry with the dwarf – how dare he harm her! Her stomach growled, oh she was so hungry! No orcs or food travelled to her off late. Her mouth watered with the prospect of eating the fallen elves she had seen early. But that dwarf, he had separated her from them. He shall be punished for it.

 Giving her wounds a final lick she scuttled from her nest and back into the tunnel where her next meal awaited.

 This was too good! The dwarf was having a heated row with an elf and neither had noticed her. An elf not being aware of her… interesting obviously this elf was more wounded then he looked. This was too good to be true – an easy meal just as long as you get it right…

 She dropped down and kicked the dwarf away, her stinger aimed for the elf. Curse him! He kept moving! The advantage of surprise had been lost and now she must fight for her meal.

 Again she kicked the dwarf away and concentrated her blows and the elf that kept moving and dodging her attacks. Anger was begging to show. A lapse in concentration, she should have looked harder at the dwarf who had come back for more. She should have seen the axe in his hand.

 It had cost her a foot!

 Oh the pain! The agonising, excruciating pain! Curse them, curse the elf and dwarf! Death to them both!

 Her rage grew as she became aware of the attacker upon her back and the other still on the ground, lurching and stomping her feet she realised her match was meet. In a final attempt to free herself she scaled the walls headed towards the ceiling and into the darkness.

 The attacker on her back fell away and below she saw them stand together, they guard down as they smiled of being reunited.

Now!

She dropped down upon them, pinning them both to the ground.

Which one first? That one. With a thrust of her sting the dwarf fell limp, now with a little careful manoeuvring the elf…

***

Her attack was so swift, so powerful and so unexpected they didn't have time to react. They couldn't even lift a blade or run.

 Her weight was tremendous she pinned them down and now amount of struggling could free them. With a slight shift in her weight Gimli felt the bite of her stinger in his side through his mail he felt coldness and blackness overcome his body and mind. Defeated at last.

 Unaware to Gimli's fall Legolas under Shelob's weight wrestled with her bulk to twist his wrists and strike with his blades. She shifted her weight to reposition her stinger – that was all he needed.

 With all his might he stabbed both his blades into her flesh so hard that his hands broke through her hairy underbelly also.

 Warm blood splashed him, but he gritted his teeth and pushed the blades deeper.

 Screeching loudly she pulled away, but Legolas came with her. He looked over his shoulder and saw Gimli still lying upon the ground he shouted to him: "Gimli, get up! Help me!" but his calls fell up deaf ears.

 She shook herself hard and banged herself upon floor and walls trying to dislodged him, but he hung on, his blades not slipping. Anchoring his feet onto her body he forced the blades even deeper, drenching himself in blood.

 The hammering was harder and fleecier and Legolas knew she was close to death now… just a bit further.

 Pushing harder his elbows vanished inside and she froze suddenly, screeching louder then even. The sound was amplified by the walls and ceiling. Legolas felt his mind dimming, his sense shut down… he was about to pass out.

 But then the note changed and died, his sense returned and his vision cleared.

Her legs crumpled and her huge body began to fall. As soon as he could Legolas stood and bore her weight to stop her from crushing him. With a great effort he pushed again and her body fell sideways and still upon the ground. Using his entire weight he pulled his arms free through the ugly wound he had created, slick with black blood they came free quite easily and thankfully the two blades were still intact.

 As soon as he was free Legolas turned upon his heels and ran. His world was spinning, his knees threatened to crumple beneath him and his body ached. He felt tired, but his deep set friendship for Gimli drove him to run and skid to a halt beside.

 Wiping his bloody hands upon his clothing he gently touched Gimli's shoulder and withdrew. Guilt was eating him up inside – they had argued, the terror of this place had set them against each other. He would never forgive himself if Gimli died, he never said how he actually enjoyed his company or his humorous stories. In the years they had know each other he had never actually commented him on his fighting skills, despite the dwarf saving his life once or twice.

 Shutting away his fears he gripped Gimli by the shoulders and shook him slightly calling his name. The dwarf did not respond. Leaning closer he studied his chest watching for it to move whilst he cupped Gimli's hand searching for a pulse. 

 The world seemed to pause while he waited, hoping and praying he was not alone in the tunnel which had become a tomb for his company.

***

The hours of punishment and imprisonment slipped away in irregular patterns like his consciousness. The pain had dulled as his body began to accept it, despite his scotched flesh he shivered violently, trapped in the dungeons of Barad-dûr in a world of pain and darkness.

 His cell was damp and old, to any thief or escape artist it would be an easy cell to break free from. But in here it did not matter how strong the prisons were, for the prisoners were encaged in more then just a cell. They were stranded in the most evil land on the Earth, so even if they were able to break free they would soon meet their end outside. Worse though then any wall or enemy armed to the teeth and far stronger then any chain was Sauron's hold on his prisoners. They had no energy or intentions to escapee for they were prisoners of their own minds. Sauron had the ability to extract secrets and plan from any mind; he could break you as easily as a brittle bone.

Snap.

As sharp and pronounced as that. It was one of the most feared thing about him, his desire for power and control probably surpassed that of Morgoth, his master many ages ago.

 Already with aid of an ally the race of elves was broken, their forest burnt brightly lightening the sky. He was gathering more forces to him and soon, very soon he will attack Gondor, still weakened by his attack on them eight years ago. Already Sauron had an advantage – he had the Ring again and Gondor's King.

Sam sat up suddenly breathing hard, beads of sweat formed on his brow and his heart hammering in his chest. Wiping the sweat away and calming his breath he blinked away the nightmare he had seen. Fire, spreading from the east over plains, forests and mountains burning everything in its path. Familiar sights began to fall: the once sun soaked Rivendell smouldered, the flames licked the village of Bree, he saw Butterbur leading Bill the pony away from the burning inn. Next the flames flickered across land and trees finally reaching the peaceful and green of the Shire. He saw homeless, injured men women and children moving together in a mass in chains being lead towards the shore and being lead on slave ships. The once gleaming White Towers of Minas Tirith were black and broken, the inner walls splattered with blood.  The people wept and howled questioning of the where about of the King. He was their only hope and he had not come, like Sam he was trapped and imprisoned in Mordor as was Gandalf, returned from the West.

 Exhausted Sam slumped against the damp wall of his cell, staring into the darkness and wept silently. The dream had been so real he was not sure if it had been or not. Had the world fallen whilst he was confined here?  Was all hope lost?

No one knew they where here, and the ones who did where in no position to give aid. Thranduil and the scattered remains of the Mirkwood elves were in no state to help, many of their numbers mortal and weak with no motivation or passion for life now. Elrond – miles away in Rivendell with a small number of elves that had chose to remain behind. They would never arrive here in time and what use could they make the numbers here are too great to count, and war, he was sure would be marching their way soon as they were the only remaining elves yet to be harmed. The forces of Lothlórien had been massacred. The only slim chance was the men of Rohan and Gondor, but they had played heavily in the last war against Sauron and paid dearly for it in lives. They would be no match against Mordor, and like the elves of Rivendell Sam was sure war would soon come marching to them. No eagles or magical creatures would come to their aid, for Gandalf was imprisoned and no life would wonder into Mordor freely.

There was no hope!

***

The snows on Caradhras had melted due to the shadow of Mordor; they had swollen the Rivers making their journey down the river faster and smoother. Elrond had sent out messengers towards Mirkwood and to Rohan. With a heavy heart after feeling the lost life in the woods of Lothlórien he muttered a prayer and rowed further down stream, his forces behind him.

 The ground trembled and cried to him and in the distance the fire of Mount Doom had exploded. It could only mean one thing – the Ring had been returned to its master. Aufstand, like Cassione her sister had betrayed the company probably to their deaths. They had passed out of his sight, but he would still fight for them and all the other free people of Middle-Earth. There was no point waiting for war to come to them, they might was well stir the nest and cause trouble to show they were not afraid. Maybe just maybe they would be able to nip Sauron's attacks in the bud before he extended his arm to Gondor or Rohan or to Rivendell and beyond. Already many of his kin had fallen, but he still wished to stand tall and be counted. He would not lie down and die, waiting for the final blow – he would fight to the very end and die like the warrior that he is.

 The elves are coming.

***

There!

 Legolas gripped Gimli's hand tighter, the pulse was weak and his chest hardly moved but he was alive! They needed to leave this deadly tomb, wounds needed to be tended to and plans drawn out. There was little hope of escaping Mordor now; the enemy would be more powerful then ever before. As much as he longed to see sunlight again and feel fresh air upon his face his love for his friend prevented him from fleeing. Shouldering his pack and Gimli's too Legolas swooped down and lifted his comrade into his arms and padded silently through the darkness. 

Reviewer responses

Lindiniel: *Grins* don't worry I have a semi planned 'happy' ending! Ambiguous, eh? Sorry about that, but I wanted to have suspense and mystery, but I guess it didn't work very well!  Hope you find the rest of the story clearer to understand.