Folks: This story is book verse in that Pippin does not knock a skeleton into a well but rather drops a pebble down a shaft in order to see how deep it is. However, it plays with the idea that, if Frodo became aware of Gollum's presence in Moria, there is no way Legolas and Aragorn would not have been aware of him as well!
Matrixelf: Pressing the refresh button worked, seemingly.
Lelann: Mae govannen!
Fluffy's fangirls: Hope you enjoy the update.
Geegi: Moria, for a start, but eventually the Paths of the Dead.
Kel: I think I would have forgiven Elrohir, too.
Joee: One update coming right up. Another one on the grill.
Blessing of Earendil: More mushiness coming up. Watch for Legolas' final gesture at the end of the chapter.
Karri: Whoa! The story's not wrapped up. Here's another chapter, and there's going to be at least one more!
MoroTheWolfGod: Thank you!
Beta Reader: Dragonfly.
Blind Fate: Chapter 5
"Legolas," whispered Pippin, "are you never afraid?"
Even though Gandalf's staff gave off no more than a glimmer of light, Legolas could clearly see Pippin's face. They had been walking for hours, and Pippin looked both weary and frightened.
"Afraid of what?"
"Of the dark. I can scarce make out my own hand!"
"But it is still attached, is it not?"
"What?"
"Your hand."
"Why, yes, of course."
"And you know that to be so without seeing it, is that not true?"
"Ye-es."
"Then what is the matter?"
"I am supposed to see my hand as well as feel it!"
"Tell me, Pippin, if you closed your eyes, would you see your hand?"
"No, but then you wouldn't be supposed to!"
"True. If it were a moonless night, with the stars obscured by clouds, would you see your hand?"
"Perhaps not, but then I wouldn't particularly expect to!"
"And you are troubled neither by the fact that you cannot see your hand when your eyes are closed nor by the fact that on a moonless, starless night you also cannot see it?"
"If I didn't expect to see my hand, then I wouldn't be troubled by not seeing it!"
"Good. Because we are deep within in a mine. Here light is no more likely to penetrate than it would through closed eyelids or moonless, cloudy skies. Should you expect to see your hand?"
This put a new light on the matter, so to speak, and while Pippin was puzzling over how to answer, he quite forgot how oppressed his spirits had been. He betook himself to Merry, and the two put their heads together in whispered consultation. Gandalf, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation between Elf and Hobbit, looked back over his shoulder and sent Legolas a smile and a wink, and, as Legolas had elven vision, he was able to see these gestures as clearly as he had seen Pippin's face. Yet Gandalf believed that, even had Legolas been unable to see his gestures, he would have known of them nonetheless.
"He would have surely felt them," the wizard muttered to himself.
On the Company marched, guided by the dim light that came from the glowing tip of Gandalf's staff. For all his years spent underground, even Gimli would have been lost without that slight illumination. Gandalf believed that, of the Fellowship, only Legolas would have been able to find a way out of Moria should all light have failed them. Gandalf knew, however, that the Dwarf would be furious if he ever realized that the wizard was of that opinion. Therefore, whenever the wizard was unsure of which passageway to take, he was careful to make a show of consulting the Dwarf. But when he had the chance to do so without attracting notice, he also made shift to ask Legolas' opinion as well.
Aragorn knew Gandalf well, and he could not fail to observe the wizard's surreptitious efforts at seeking guidance from the Elf. It amused him to see the wily wizard cudgeling his brains in order to outwit the stolid Dwarf. He hid his amusement, however, for, like Gandalf, he knew it would not be wise to offend Gimli. It was not difficult for the Ranger to dissemble in this fashion. Over the years he had had much experience in hiding both his thoughts and his emotions. For this reason, he knew that the Hobbits thought him grim, and for a wistful moment he wished that they could see him as he had once been, as a youngster growing up in Rivendell amongst his elven kin. He had had no need of caution then, and when he felt joy, he let it freely be known!
"They would not recognize me if they saw me in such a guise," he said to himself. "Indeed," he added ruefully, "I don't think I would recognize myself!"
He heard a slight yet untoward noise and glanced back. Legolas was gazing back as well.
"So," Aragorn said to himself, "it is not my imagination. Something has been trailing us. I might have thought it an echo, but Legolas hears something, too, seemingly."
Then Aragorn noticed that Frodo, too, was anxiously peering into the darkness that pursued them. The Ranger was impressed.
"There must be some Elf in that Perian," he mused to himself. "I am quite sure that none of the other Halflings have noticed anything. Nor are Boromir and Gimli aware that we are being trailed. Gandalf, now—it would not surprise me if he knew but has chosen to say nothing. He would not want to alarm the little ones."
Aragorn slowed his pace so that he might inconspicuously fall into step beside Legolas.
"Have you seen what it is?" he asked softly.
The Elf shook his head.
"It is very sly and has stayed in such dark corners as even my eyes cannot penetrate. No doubt it is something smaller and quieter than an Orc."
"And cleverer."
"Aye, and cleverer."
"We must pretend to take no notice of it. Perhaps it will grow incautious and draw nearer so that we may determine what it is. Mayhap we shall then be able to capture or kill it."
Legolas nodded.
"I shall be alert for some such opportunity."
"Good. I would trust your eyes before my own."
Aragorn moved away from Legolas, although not before Boromir had noticed the exchange between the two. As Aragorn returned to his place in the column, for a moment Boromir looked him full in the face, staring at the Ranger with an unfathomable expression. Then he turned away, looking forward once more. Aragorn thought he had caught a mix of curiosity, eagerness, and resentment in the eyes of the Man of Gondor, but he was not sure toward whom or what those emotions were directed.
"The riddle Boromir posed to the Council," Aragorn thought to himself, "was as nothing to the riddle of Boromir himself."
Then Aragorn tried to push away such thoughts, for they awoke within him a foreboding that added weight to the fears under which he already labored.
"As it is said, 'sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof'," the Ranger murmured to himself, drawing a look from Gimli.
"Talking to ourselves, are we? Bad sign, that. Care to share the burden? It will be made the lighter if you do."
"Thank you, but no," Aragorn replied, but he smiled as he spoke. It was generous of the dour Dwarf to offer to share his woes, and Aragorn was both surprised and pleased. Thus far the Dwarf had been the most taciturn of the Company—except, of course, when he was exchanging gibes with Legolas, which happened all too often. "They scold each other like jays," Aragorn had overheard Gandalf muttering, and he suspected that on more than one occasion the wizard had been tempted to affix bird beaks to the offenders' faces. "Poor Gandalf," Aragorn laughed to himself. "Was there ever a shepherd had the keeping of such an ill-matched flock!?"
The shepherd in question was at that moment deciding that it was time for his flock to lay itself down. They had been climbing a seemingly endless series of steps and had just now reached a landing that would be wide enough for the lot of them to find spots upon which to perch and stretch out their aching legs.
"We will rest and refresh ourselves a bit," the wizard declared. "Haste ye to find spaces, for I am going to let my staff go dark—I am that weary!"
Packs were quickly removed and opened and water bladders uncorked. The four Hobbits clustered together. Gimli plunked himself down by the side of Aragorn, and Boromir, after a moment's hesitation, drew near and sat on his other side. As for Legolas, he positioned himself upon the lowermost side of the landing, gazing back at the direction from whence they had come, and Gandalf seated himself by him. When all were settled, Gandalf allowed his staff to go dark, but not before he had kindled his pipe. He closed his eyes and quietly puffed upon its long stem. Legolas, too, closed his eyes, concentrating all his being upon listening, listening. If the creature drew near, it would, he hoped, think the Elf to be asleep.
After a little while, Legolas heard what he was waiting for, the flap-flap of bare feet upon rock. The sound drew near, stopped momentarily, and then was replaced by a scritching sound. "It is crawling now, or slithering, perchance," Legolas thought to himself. He remained still, waiting until he was sure the creature was almost upon him. Then he opened his eyes, and he saw two orbs gleaming in the flickering light from the bowl of Gandalf's pipe. Briefly Legolas locked gaze with the skulking possessor of those orbs. At once, the miserable creature dropped its eyes and melted away, but Legolas had instantly recognized him as the wretched being that the Mirkwood Elves had guarded for a time at the behest of Gandalf. The Fair Folk had fulfilled this task with both great care and great compassion. It had cost them, Legolas reminded himself. In their kindness, the Elves had unwittingly put themselves into a perilous position, vulnerable to attack by Orcs, and several of the Prince's companions had been killed or taken prisoner as a result. Legolas silently rose to his feet, drawing and nocking an arrow as he did so.
"Legolas," hissed Gandalf. "What are you doing?"
"Gollum has been following us. I mean to kill him."
"I thought you had given over such foolish elfling behavior. We are in the mines of Moria, in case you haven't noticed."
"And in case you haven't noticed," Legolas retorted, "I have excellent vision even in the dimmest of light. And were the light to fail utterly, I should track him by scent and by sound."
"Yes, yes, I know that," Gandalf replied impatiently. "I do not doubt but that you could track him. That is not what I meant! I need all your five senses devoted to helping me marshal the Company through this maze! Give over any thought of vengeance."
"Not vengeance! Justice!" protested Legolas.
"Oh, and are you to determine that?" scoffed the wizard. "Are you to be both judge and executioner? Folk who have made a practice of combining those offices have ever fared ill. But even were I to concede that it is justice you seek, you are pledged first to the Fellowship. Pursuit of Gollum is not part of your quest."
Legolas was not ready to concede this point.
"But, Mithrandir, by slaying Gollum, I should be safeguarding my companions," he argued.
"Can you be certain of that? If you slay him, it is altogether probable that you will bring down something worse upon your friends."
Legolas considered. Yes, he could think of several ways in which he could imperil the Fellowship by slaying Gollum. The creature might make an inconvenient sound as he expired, thus alerting any other beings that lurked in Moria that something was amiss. And then there was the problem of his body. It might be discovered, and, again, it would be clear that intruders were present. And what if Gollum were the agent of something or someone more powerful—a being that might come forward to investigate on its own if its spy failed to report when scheduled. Reluctantly, Legolas decided that Gandalf was right. The Elf slipped the arrow back into his quiver and resumed his seat.
"Hannon le, Legolas," said Gandalf gratefully. "Now I will tell you how you can best help. First, you must of course continue to be the eyes and ears of the Fellowship—not even a Ranger is a match for an Elf in that regard! Secondly, your laughter and songs and tales gladden the hearts of the Hobbits. That is very important! They look to you to keep up their spirits. Only lately you have succeeded in cheering up Pippin, the youngest of the Periannath, whose spirits were sorely oppressed by the darkness. Leave Gollum to his fate. It is the Hobbits to whom you must attend."
Legolas agreed, although he still harbored a little regret at being unable to pursue the creature.
"It does seem a shame," he said, "that I may not make full use of my skill at navigating about in the darkness."
"Ah, but that skill will not be wasted," Gandalf said, "for it consists of two things: first, your actual facility at moving about, but second, and more important for our purposes, the fact that your spirit is left untroubled by the dark. It is that spirit we have need of—I have need of! Do not fail me! The Fellowship may face darker paths even that this one, and you must not be distracted from your purpose."
Only a few days later, as Legolas marched toward Caras Galadhon in company with the other survivors of Moria, he reflected upon the truth of Gandalf's words.
"You were right, my friend," he said to himself sadly, "that we would face a darker path—but you did not tell me it would be so well illuminated. I think henceforth I shall always fear the Flame more than the Shadow. The Shadow is naught but darkness visible—and I do not fear the dark! But the Flame—the Flame, it devours. One may emerge from the Shadow, but not, I think, from the Flame."
Yet as Legolas walked on, the sun shone down upon him, warming him, and he was grateful, for his heart had been cold with grief for the fallen Gandalf.
"That fiery star is an orb of far greater power than any other," he mused to himself. "Gandalf spoke of a lidless eye ringed with fire, but if the sun were placed beside that eye, it would prove to be insignificant, dwarfed by the magnificence of the king of the heavenly lights."
As Legolas walked on, he continued to think on this matter.
"It is true," he said to himself, "that the Flame can devour, but it can also purify, and with it may be forged objects of strength and beauty—some dangerous and evil, like the Ring, but the greater part fair and of great virtue. Indeed, any tool that is to be serviceable must first be tempered by being returned repeatedly to the fire. A sword that was not passed through the Flame would be of little worth. No warrior would trust it."
Legolas heard a little whimper and looked down. Pippin was doing his best to suppress his tears.
"You fought well in Balin's tomb," the Elf said to the young Perian.
Pippin shook his head.
"Even if I did, there would have been no battle in the first place if it hadn't been for my foolishness."
The Hobbit could restrain himself no longer.
"It's my fault!" he cried. "It's my fault! If I hadn't dropped the pebble down the well, Gandalf would never have fallen. Our presence in Moria would have gone undiscovered."
"No, you are wrong," Legolas said calmly. "Our presence was known from the moment we entered at the western gate. I realize now that we would never have been allowed to depart unassailed."
"You are just saying that to cheer me up," said Pippin morosely.
"I am saying that to cheer you up, yes, but I am also speaking the truth. We were being trailed. I knew it from the outset, and Gandalf knew it as well. You may be sure that he was not altogether surprised at the attack. I know Aragorn was not. He feared that Gandalf would fall if we entered Moria."
"And yet Gandalf went on nonetheless," marveled Pippin.
"It was his duty," Legolas said simply.
Pippin squared his shoulders and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
"No," Legolas thought to himself. "No, it is not at all true that nothing can emerge from the Flame."
And with that he took Pippin's hand and led him on toward Caras Galadhon.