Mori pulled on a brown Rohirrim tunic over her mithril coat, replacing her black vambraces over the long sleeves and fastening her cloak around her throat. She didn't feel comfortable traveling the Paths of the Dead in full shiny regala. There was no need for her to outshine the torches they would need to carry. She turned back towards Legolas and smiled, leaning down to touch his face. It was time to inform him that their short respite from journey was being cut even shorter. The elf prince's gaze, before that moment distant with restful dreams, focused on her. The clear, sky blue of his eyes told her that he was content and at peace for the first time in many weeks. She hated to disturb that beautiful peace, but duty demanded it.
"Time to prepare for a journey, my beloved warrior. Elrond is here, with Estel, and he brings a sword and a quest," she said quietly. The peace in his eyes was indeed disturbed by her words and she sighed. But Aragorn could not walk his next quest alone, even if he thought he should. Elrond had felt her presence and he had spoken to her.
"Narsil?" Legolas asked, leaping gracefully to his feet. She smiled wryly and shook her head.
"Anduril. The Flame of the West. Reforged from the shards of Narsil and ready to serve a new, stronger master," she stated softly. Legolas' nodded after a thoughtful moment, then questioned her further.
"What is this quest that requires we leave the Rohirrim on the eve of battle? What is so important that it precedes the ride to Gondor's aide?"
"An oath long unfulfilled. We walk the Dimvault road," she said softly, eyes glinting darkly. Legolas' eyes widened very slightly and he gripped her upper arms gently, looking into her eyes.
"Mori..."
"Don't even think of asking, Legolas A'maela-nin. Estel already believes he will walk the Paths alone. He must not. And I will not leave your side. I do not fear the dead," she said firmly. Legolas sighed softly and then nodded. He placed a kiss on her forehead, then her nose and then tenderly touched his lips to hers in a way the made her blood warm and her toes curl in delight. She slid both arms around his slender waist to pull him closer, but he reached back and took her hands, gently pulling them forward and up between them.
"If only we had time, mela-nin. You will drive me mad," he said quietly, leaning in and pressing his forehead against her own. She smiled into his eyes and squeezed his fingers.
"Well, then, let us not waste any more of that precious time. The quicker this quest is done, the quicker I will have time to drive you completely insane," she said quietly, eyes sparkling. Legolas leaned in to steal another kiss and then he stepped back and stretched his long body languidly to work out what little stiffness might remain in his lithe muscles. As she watched him stretch and then turn to pick up his quiver, Mori marveled once again that she had captured the heart of this beautiful warrior. He had known her since she was an elfling plagued by memories of her parents' death and her imprisonment under stone. How he could love her even so was a mystery, but it wasn't one she felt the need to explore just yet. She planned on having at the very least a few millenia to try and figure it out.
She moved to help him buckle on his quiver, running her hands lovingly over the well worn suede that fitted so well against his lithe, muscular frame. He laughed softly and caught her hands again. She gave him a mischevious smile and then tugged on his hand, leading him out of the tent. They needed to get the horses ready. Gimli was waiting outside their tent.
"I'll make certain he doesn't sneak away, Lady Mori," he said merrily around his pipe. The two elves smiled and moved towards the picket lines. They passed several Rohirrim on their way. Rohan was gathering an army to ride to the aid of Gondor and they had chosen Dunharrow as their gathering place. Gondor was under seige by Mordor and needed reinforcements terribly. Pippin had recovered the Palantir that Saruman had used for so long and Aragorn had used it to reveal his presence to Sauron. The stakes were high now that the Dark Lord knew without a doubt that his mortal enemy, the heir of Elendil and Isildur, was ready to face him with The Sword that was Broken reforged. Sauron was unwilling to give Men time to regroup, so he was going to hit Gondor hard and fast and now. As frightening as that thought was, with Sauron's Eye fixed on Aragorn, Frodo and Sam would have more of a chance getting into Mordor unnoticed to destroy the One Ring. She prayed that Illuvitar would keep those two safe. The fate of Middle Earth rested in their hands. The rest of them merely served as distraction, even if that distraction was purposed to save as many Men as possible from complete destruction by Sauron's forces.
The pair of elves tacked their horses and moved back towards Gimli's post outside their tent. Morithawen paused, however, when a voice spoke softly in her head.
'Morithawen, I would speak with you.'
She sent Legolas ahead with the horses and a quiet promise to follow soon and turned around. Elrond stood in the shadows of a stout tree, shrouded in a black hooded robe. She moved forward cautiously and was relieved when he reached out and drew her close. She sighed softly and leaned into him for a moment, breathing deeply of his scent. He smelled so much of Imladris, of home, that she wondered if she had not simply dreamt the past several weeks. His words, however, laid those thoughts to rest.
"Estel is not the only one going on a quest, Morithawen. It is time for you to face your deepest fears and your secret desires. Always remember those that love you, my daughter. We need you more than you know," he said quietly. She turned her head and looked up at him, eyes troubled. He shook his head, telling her silently not to question him. She sighed again and pulled away from him. He took her hand and led her back towards the horse lines, stopping by his stallion and loosing a pair of light saddlebags from the saddle. He held them out to her and smiled.
"For Estel. Arwen thought he might need a little motivation. Save it until after the Paths of the Dead. It will help him motivate a reluctant army," he said quietly. Morithawen took the saddlebags and tiptoed to kiss her foster father's cheek.
"He will be glad of it, I'm sure. And to know that Arwen is thinking of him will be motivation enough to see him through the battles ahead. Do not worry Father. Illuvitar's song will never be drowned out by the darkness. That is the important thing to remember when all seems lost. Good must win out over evil, even if evil unwittingly thru greed brings good the victory," she said with a sad smile, a faraway look in her eyes. Elrond looked at her suspiciously.
"That was a foretelling," he said. She blinked and looked thoughtful for a long moment before replying.
"Perhaps, but also truth. Evil is a corruption that eats away at everything, even itself," she said with a grim smile. Elrond chuckled softly.
"You are right, as usual Morithawen," he said. Her smile turned warmer, this time with mirth.
"Do be sure to tell Elrohir and Elladan. They insist that I'm just a little know-it-all," she said. Elrond graced here with a wink and another smile.
"I'll be sure to do that, Mori. Now go. Time is short."
Morithawen hurried to catch up with Legolas, cutting between two tents in what she hoped was a short cut. She was surprised when she came upon Eowyn, niece of King Theodan of Rohan, seated upon a shadowed rocked. The woman had been crying, obvious from the glint of moonlight off the tearstreaks on her cheeks. Morithawen considered approaching the woman but time was not with her. She was very surprised, however, when the woman addressed her on the way past.
"You are going with him, then," she asked in a somber tone. Morithawen paused and tilted her head in affirmative. She was surprised when the woman's hands clenched into fists and she jumped up, stalking off in the opposite direction. Morithawen turned and watched after the woman with a troubled expression, but she could not linger. Hurrying on, she intercepted Legolas as he pulled up alongside Aragorn.
"Have you learned nothing of the stubborness of dwarves?" he was asking. Morithawen flipped the saddlebags onto Kellan's rump as Gimli convinced Aragorn that he was not allowed to walk the Paths of the Dead alone. Aragorn didn't even address Morithawen, but the look he gave her said he was very unhappy with her. She sighed softly, ignoring the warning glares her foster brother kept shooting her, and mounted Kellan gracefully. There was no more talk as the four of them rode out of camp, followed by the murmurs of confused Rohirrim soldiers. It wasn't until the sun came up high enough to light the path ahead of them a pale gold that she dared pull Kellan up beside Brego and speak with Aragorn. Luckily, he seemed to have come to terms with her presence and spoke freely with her.
"I saw Eowyn before we left. She seemed to know where we are going and she was not happy about it. Is there a story there I should be aware of?" she asked quietly. Aragorn was quiet for a moment and then answered in a sad voice.
"She believes she loves me, Morithawen. I cannot believe that. She cannot love me for who I am, for she knows very little of me. She sees in me the chance for glory and honor, not a flesh and blood man with doubts and weaknesses," he said with a sigh. It was obvious that he regretted sending Eowyn away angry.
"She believes that she can find glory and honor through others, then? She must learn to trust in her own inner strengths but she cannot do that in the shadow of someone else. Her path lies along a different road from yours, but you will meet again soon enough," she said with a grim smile. Aragorn looked at her in surprise and she merely nodded an answer to his unspoken question. She had foreseen it. She really needed to stop opening her mouth before she said something horrible that she couldn't take back. She just hoped Aragorn wouldn't ask anymore questions about his next meeting with Eowyn. It wasn't going to be a cheerful one. That thought made her fall back beside Legolas, listening to him as he told Gimli the story of the Dead Army. It was a grim tale of betrayal and cowardice that gave Morithawen a queasy feeling that she thought must be quite like a human's sick stomach if Estel's descriptions were anything to go by.
As they rode along, the path before them seemed to wind into shadow, despite the angle of the sun on the mountain side, and Morithawen felt her mount trembling beneath her thighs. She leaned down to whisper comfort in her ear. She was quite aware of what lay along the dark path before them and though it did not frighten her, she was certain that the horses wouldn't be so brave. She dismounted gracefully and moved to the horse's head, murmuring soothing words in elvish. It had a calming effect on Kellan and the trembling stopped, even if the horse pawed the rocky ground nervously. She looked up to see that the others had dismounted as well and that Legolas was soothing Arod. Brego, Aragorn's mount, seemed the least affected by the atmosphere of the place, standing still with Aragorn's hand on his neck. Her brother spoke a gentle word to the horse and then took the reins, leading him farther down the path. The rest of them followed, with Gimli pulling up the rear.
As they approached the dark opening in the craggy rockface, Morithawen felt chilled to her soul. She had heard many ghost stories amongst the Rohirrim about this place, but she knew the history behind the scary tales. Somehow, knowing the history didn't make the place seem any less intimidating. She shook her head a bit and stepped up next to Aragorn. She had to tug on Kellan's bridle firmly but the horse moved forward reluctantly. She turned to watch her foster brother then, noting the stern expression on his face as he faced the doorway. She laid a hand on his arm and he turned to look at her. She searched his eyes and was relieved to see only determination there.
"If you ever had doubts of your heritage, Aragorn, now would be the time to lay them to rest," said a gruff voiced Gimli from behind them. Morithawen and Aragorn turned as one and gave Gimli identical expressions of exasperation, complete with single eyebrows raised. Gimli blinked and Legolas grinned before patting his small friend's shoulder with the hand not holding Arod's reins and an unlit torch.
"Not to worry, Master Dwarf. Any man that can perfect a look so like Lord Elrond has to have Elven blood in his veins somewhere," the blond elf said in amusement. The scowl was turned on the Mirkwood elf then and he just laughed and walked Arod forward, lighting his torch on Aragorn's.
"Come now, children. We have ghosts to entertain," he said, making a flourish towards the dark opening. Morithawen and Aragorn exchanged a slightly disgrunted look and rolled their eyes before turning back towards the opening. They both grinned, however, once their backs were to Legolas. The shadow of the Dwimmorberg wasn't so dark on their hearts after Legolas' teasing. The lighter hearts didn't last long however, for the sun disappeared completely as they entered the Paths of the Dead and the light of Aragorn's torch didn't seem to light more than a small area around them. Mori shuddered, quite unhappy to be under rock and stone again so soon after Moria. Aragorn noticed and drew closer to her, talking quietly.
"Is it just me or are Legolas and Gimli actually getting along?" he asked in a whisper only an elf could hear. She smiled a bit and nodded.
"If you can call their constant bickering getting along. But it has changed a great deal from their malicious taunting. I think they've learned to respect one another, which is the first step towards true friendship. I'm quite relieved to see that," she said quietly. Behind them, the heavy footfalls of Gimli were evident and the two new friends were talking about the Glittering Caves at Helm's Deep. Aragorn and Morithawen simply listened to them for a while, until the press of dark walls and an ominous nagging presence drove them all to quiet. Or disquiet in Morithawen's case. The walls grew too close in places for the group to travel abreast and she was forced to fall behind Aragorn. She was glad for the nudging of Kellan's nose against her shoulder occasionally, reminding her that the atmosphere likely affected the horse as much as herself. She dropped back until she was walking with her shoulder under Kellan's neck, one hand on the horse's neck. She murmured softly in elvish, more to soothe herself than the horse, but the distraction was welcome.
'Amin mela lle (I love you).'
Morithawen closed her eyes and smiled. Legolas did that sometimes, just brushed against her awareness like a loving caress. It had kept her going so often when she would have faltered over the past few months. She sent back a similar mental caress and then continued to concentrate her attention on the horse. She shuddered suddenly, chilled once again. It was an odd feeling. Elves didn't feel the cold so deeply, even in damp, dark under the earth. No, this cold wasn't physical. The soft sounds of feet skittering across stone and the sigh of air across her skin in odd patterns made her tense. Kellan obviously sensed the same things, because she spooked, jerking her reins out of her hands and shoving past her rider and barreling down the tunnel. Morithawen didn't panic. There wasn't anywhere for Kellan to go, really. If nothing else, Aragorn would catch her. Nevertheless, she hurried after the horse.
She tried to ignore the whispered sounds around her as she moved, but the feel of hands grabbing at her hair was unnerving. The quicker she moved, the more 'fingers' she felt in her hair and the louder the whispers became. She murmured a prayer to Illuvitar as she moved after her horse, distracted enough that she didn't notice that she had moved into a darker, narrower branch of the paths. She was too busy trying to convince herself that the whispers of air swirling around her weren't actually what they sounded like; possessive words, greedy ones that made her to skin crawl.
Mine, hair of gold,
Mine, skin of pearl,
Mine, light of sun, mine...
Legolas was moving rather slow, looking back quite often to keep an eye on Gimli, who was lagging behind himself and Arod. When he heard the commotion ahead of him, he tossed a mental query to Morithawen and she responded with a terse comment about her horse that made him grin and go back to watching out for Gimli. A few moments later, however, the ground and walls around him shuddered and the sound of falling rock echoed from the paths in front of them. A duet of sound echoed back to him as well, one voice Morithawen's scream for her lover and the other the frightened, high-pitched wail of a horse in distress. The sounds became muffled and then cut of completely as the rumbling began to settle. Legolas dropped Arod's reins and ran.
'Mori? Mela-nin?' he called both aloud and mentally. He heard Aragorn's voice echoing back to him as well, obviously concerned as he called for his sister. They met over a pile of rubble in the passageway.
"There was an opening here, but the earth looked unstable and the air was stale..." Aragorn stated with wide eyes, his voice gruff with horror. Legolas felt the same horror crawling up his spine but he fought against it. Around them both, the air bore a faint sound not unlike triumphant laughter. Legolas frowned and began to move aside rock and dirt with his hands. Aragorn joined him immediately and when Gimli arrived and assessed the situation, he joined them as well. As he worked, Legolas reached out with his mind, desperate to find his beloved. For a while, he thought it was useless. His mind could not find the familiar, bright beacon of his beloved's spirit. But when he finally brushed her mind he realized why he hadn't found it sooner. Her spirit was not bright at the moment. In fact, he had never felt it this dark and desperate. But there was also something else, something almost childlike about it.
'Morithawen, beloved, hold on to the light. I'm coming, my love,' he sent as strongly as he could. In his heart, he was terrified for her. She was the most claustraphobic being he had ever known and that was saying something for an elf, of a race of beings who all hated small, dark, closed places. She had been trapped in a crevice for over a week as a child and Elrond had barely pulled her out in time to save her spirit. She had been put there by her mother during the battle that wounded Lady Celebrian at the Redhorn Pass. Both her parents had died that day. Elrond had once told Legolas that for the first decade, he had always feared Morithawen would give in to her grief and follow her parents to the Halls of Mandos. Legolas had seen hints that the trauma still lingered in her heart when the Fellowship had traveled on Caradhras and Moria. Moria had been hardest for her, but she had never been alone, always able to touch. Now, however, she was all alone in the dark.
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