Blessing of Earendil: Aw, puppy-dog eyes! Can't resist, so here's a new chapter.
Legosgurl: About the profile: When you are logged in, click on 'Settings' and that will bring up a screen that includes a box where you can type up your profile. Hope that is the answer to the question you were asking in your latest review of 'Things Fall Apart'.
Terreis: Welcome back! Yes, I figured that if Frodo and Gandalf picked up on Gollum's presence, there was no way in Mordor that Aragorn and Legolas wouldn't have noticed as well.
MoroTheWolfGod: Thank you!
Joee: Yes, I also have always felt sorry for Pippin. Right you are: Paths of the Dead coming up
Beta Reader: Dragonfly
Based on, and lines quoted from, Bk. 5, chap. 2, "The Passing of the Grey Company," and Bk. 5, chap. 9, "The Last Debate."
Blind Fate: Chapter 6
Aragorn mused over the messages that had been conveyed to him by Elladan and Elrohir, the twin sons of Elrond and foster-brothers to the Dúnadan. "I bring word to you from my father," Elrohir had said. "'The days are short. If thou art in haste, remember the Paths of the Dead.'" Elladan had seconded his words. "Ada said to us, 'Bid Aragorn remember the words of the Seer, and the Paths of the Dead'."
The Words of the Seer. While Aragorn had been growing up in Rivendell, his elven guardians had carefully instilled in him with legend, every scrap of lore, that pertained to the Men of Westernesse, and they had not neglected the words uttered by Malbeth the Seer, spoken during the waning days of the northern kingdom. For Malbeth lived during the time of Arvedui, the last king at Fornost. Now the Ranger turned over and over in his mind the verses of Malbeth's prophecy.
"A long shadow does in truth lie over the land," he murmured to himself, "a shadow that stretches ever further toward the west. Do we live in those days, then, the time when the Dead will awaken to fulfill the oath that was broken, the oath sworn to Isildur? I am his heir, yes, but many before me have held that title. Am I indeed the one who can safely pass through the Door to summon the oathbreakers to make good their ancient pledge?"
Yet as he thought on this matter, it came to him that, whatever his doubts, he had no choice but to venture on that path.
"There is no other way," he said to himself. "It is the shortest path to the port of Pelargir and the River Anduin, and I must reach that waterway, else the Corsairs shall come upon Minas Tirith from a quarter from whence the soldiers of the city had feared no danger. If the Corsairs draw forces from the defense of the walls that face the Pelennor, then I do not see how the city shall stand."
Thus resolved, Aragorn had parted from Theoden and Eomer. The Ranger was followed from the camp of the Rohirrim by a company of thirty of his Dúnedain kinsmen, as well as Elladan and Elrohir, and, of course, Legolas and Gimli, who would no more be parted from Aragorn than they would be parted from each other. As Eowyn had told Aragorn, and as Legolas was later to tell Merry and Pippin, none rode after Aragorn at his command but rather because of the love they bore him. Many were to pay a great price for that love, but willingly they laid down the coin required.
Now Aragorn stood before the door to the Paths of Dead holding tightly to his mount's headstall, for, though he knew that the horse was stout in spirit, even one of the Mearas of old would have quailed at the chill air, laden with death, that swirled about them. Aragorn took a deep breath. "This is the only way," he said to himself. "This is the only way."
Leading his own horse, Halbarad came to stand beside his kinsman. Aragorn noticed that the steed pulled back against the reins. Halbarad looked doubtfully at the blackness that opened up before them.
"This is an evil door," he said softly, so that only Aragorn heard, "and my death lies beyond it." He spoke louder then. "I will dare to pass it, but no horse will enter."
Aragorn stroked the muzzle of his own horse.
"We shall lead them, if necessary covering their heads with our cloaks as if we were guiding them through a burning city. You know what I have seen in the palantir, Halbarad. You know that Minas Tirith will fall if we do not make haste. Once we are through the mountain, we will still have a long path before us, before we have any hope of taking ship at Pelargir. If we do not take the horses, then we may as well give over any attempt at aiding Gondor. And then, like the Dead, we shall dwindle and fade into these hills."
Halbarad nodded somberly and ordered Men to bring up the torches. Aragorn held one as he led the column into the mountain, with Halbarad and Elrohir close behind him. One after another the Dúnedain who had ridden south with Halbarad followed these three into the tunnel, speaking soothing words to their skittish horses. Then came Legolas, whose Rohirric horse, Arod, needed more gentling than the elvish horses of the Dúnedain. Bringing up the rear of the column was Elladan, who held aloft another torch.
Not quite the rear of the column, however. Gimli, who had been born and reared in caverns, could not bring himself to follow. "The very warmth of my body is stolen away," he stammered through chattering teeth, and long he stood trembling before the ghastly fissure beyond which lay the dwelling place of the Dead. "Here is a thing unheard of!" he cried in vexation and shame. "An Elf will go underground and a Dwarf dare not!" He groaned. "I will never hear the end of it." With the stubbornness for which his people were famous, he forced his legs into motion and stumbled after the others. "I will not be bested by that Elf," he swore. "No, not when the field of engagement is subterranean!"
But Gimli's rivalry with Legolas, which had elicited many an irritated 'harrumph' from a hapless Gandalf, had in truth by now dwindled to little more than bantering between Dwarf and Elf. This light-hearted competition was a source of entertainment for the two, not a force that could stave off the horror that more and more overcame Gimli with every step he took. He fell further and further behind, for it seemed to him that his legs moved with the slowness with which one flees in a dream, when one's limbs are bound with an invisible spider web that will stretch but in the end not yield.
Elladan's torch was but a speck in the distance, and Gimli was beginning to think despairingly that he would have to shout out to stay the company, when to his relief he realized that his companions had come to a halt. When he came up with them, he saw that the passageway had opened up and they were in a great subterranean hall, like unto the one they had entered at Khazad-dûm, although on a much smaller scale. In its depths, doors led off to side passageways, some open, some closed. Before one of the sealed doors lay a man, and Aragorn gazed down upon him. As Gimli drew near, he saw that this figure was naught but a skeleton clad in armor. He shuddered and scarce understood what Aragorn was saying. The Dwarf caught snatches of it—musings on what may have driven the man to this place—but later he remembered only what Aragorn said at the end, when he raised his voice as if he were declaiming to an unseen host—as indeed he was.
"Keep your hoards and your secrets hidden in the Accursed Years. Speed only we ask. Let us pass, and then come! I summon you to the Stone of Erech!"
No one answered in speech, but a chill breath, the exhalation of the Dead, filled the chamber, and the torches went out and could not be rekindled.
"Legolas," Aragorn said softly.
Without hesitation Legolas found his way to the side of the Ranger. He stood there silently for a few minutes, listening and smelling and feeling. At last he spoke quietly.
"This way."
He began to walk. Behind him came Aragorn, and after him all the Rangers, each soothing his horse. Gimli had no horse to gentle, and that was a pity, for perhaps such a task would have distracted him from his fear, which returned with all its former force. He stumbled to keep up with the others, and often he fell upon his hands and knees. At last he found himself well-nigh crawling upon his hands and knees.
"I'm not much better than that Gollum-creature," he thought despairingly. "From what Gandalf told us, he slithered about like a lizard."
Gimli's plight did not go unnoticed. Elladan had realized that Gimli was falling further and further behind, and at last he spoke softly to the Dúnadan ahead of him. Word was swiftly passed to the head of the column, and Aragorn called a halt. Legolas went back.
"Gimli, my friend," he said gently, "I fear that these long-legged Rangers set you too fast a pace. You must be weary."
"You needn't coddle me," growled Gimli. "You and Aragorn set a fast pace across the Plains of Rohan, and I kept up nonetheless." His voice softened. "Yet I thank you, Legolas, for the thought behind your gracious words. You would not shame me. For that, I am grateful."
The Dwarf reached out in the darkness and made a stab at clapping Legolas on the shoulder.
"Ooomph!" gasped Legolas.
"Oh, sorry. Hit you in the belly, did I?"
"Lower!" moaned the Elf.
"No! My aim couldn't be that far off!"
"It was! You are crouched down almost to the ground, and I tower above you!"
"Well," deadpanned Gimli, "your voice was already in the upper registers."
It was probably a good thing that the darkness prevented Gimli from seeing the look on his friend's face, else he may have developed a greater fear of the Elf than of the Dead. But Legolas soon recovered.
"We have reached a passageway that appears to be broad and straight," he told Gimli. "Aragorn can follow it easily enough. If he encounters any checks, he can always call me forward. I will walk with you for a time."
Gimli's heart was gladdened, but he wisely refrained from any further attempt at patting Legolas on the shoulder—or on any other part of his anatomy.
As they walked, Legolas tried to turn Gimli's thoughts from the darkness that surrounded them and the Dead that followed them.
"At Helm's Deep, you began to tell me of a cave not unlike this one," he began cleverly.
Gimli spluttered.
"Not unlike this one! Not unlike this one! My dear, foolish Elf, that cavern had nothing in common with this place!"
"But they are both naught but holes in the ground, is that not so?"
The Elf's pretended innocence left the Dwarf speechless for several minutes. At last he harrumphed and commenced a lengthy and enthusiastic lecture on the comparative merits of cave systems. He went into far greater detail than even Erestor would have at his most interminable, but Legolas feigned interest.
"Now I will tell you why this passage is so straight and wide," Gimli was saying. "This was once a lava tube."
Legolas pretended not to understand.
"A lava tube?"
"Truly you Elves know nothing of the earth portion of Middle-earth! You do understand what a volcano is, don't you?"
"Oh, yes," Legolas assured him. "That I know. Mount Orodruin is of course a volcano."
"Good! That will do to start on. Now, within each volcano are chambers of magma—molten rock, that is."
"Molten rock?"
"Yes, rock that is so hot that is has, well, it has melted, don't you know!"
"Ah," said Legolas solemnly, "rather like iron in a forge."
"Exactly! Now, from time to time, the amount of magma grows too great for the volcano to contain. Sometimes that state of affairs will result in the most magnificent eruptions! The effluvia of the grandest dragon would look pitiful in the face of the resulting fireworks! On other occasions, however, the magma will escape through tunnels such as this one. The molten rock—we call it lava once it is outside its chamber—flows like a liquid, so it does not block the tube. Eventually, once outside, it cools on the flanks of the mountain or in the valley below. Once the volcano is dead—or at least dormant—it is quite safe to then enter the tunnels that have been left behind. Someone has smoothed out the floor of this passageway so that it is easier to traverse, but its origins clearly lie in the mountain itself and not in the hands of Men."
Legolas' feigned interest had turned into genuine curiosity.
"You know much of the workings of the earth," he said, impressed.
"Indeed I do," agreed Gimli. "But," he added generously, "I am sure you know as much about trees."
Legolas did not doubt him on either count!
Just at that moment, Legolas felt that Elladan, who still walked before them, had drawn to a halt. Legolas put out an arm and stayed Gimli. Elladan turned and whispered, "We have reached a fork in the tunnel. Aragorn would have you go forward and advise him on the course we should pursue."
"I must leave you, my friend," Legolas said to Gimli. Now it was the Elf's turn to try to clap the Dwarf on the shoulder.
"Hey," the Dwarf spluttered indignantly.
"Surely I did not strike your groin, Gimli!"
"No, higher! You patted me on the head. I am a Dwarf, not a child!"
"Many Orcs could testify to the truth of that," Legolas replied, "if they were but living! And soon many more foes shall have reason to know it, for it seems to me that we have come far along these Paths and shall soon find ourselves once again walking abroad in the land."
"You are sure of that?"
"Yes, for the domain of the Dead, while impressive, is nowhere near as vast and elaborate as the great Dwarf city of Khazad-dûm."
Gimli's heart swelled within him, as Legolas had known it would.
"Well, well," he harrumphed, "these Dead were but Men—one couldn't expect them to delve on the grand scale of Dwarves!"
"True, Gimli, quite true. The Dead were but Men."
With that, Legolas left Gimli and returned to Aragorn's side to help the Ranger pick their way forward. It would be a lie to say that the oppression of Gimli's spirits had been entirely lifted by Legolas' words, but it was greatly lessened, enough so that the Dwarf was able to continue his stumbling progress. And even the stumbling was by means a bad thing. Every time Gimli was tripped up by a rough patch in the roadway, he would mutter, "Hah! A Dwarf, now, he would have laid the stones more smoothly. These Dead were but Men!"
So it came to pass that it was because of the words of an Elf that the Dwarf Gimli son of Gloin, denizen of deep places, found the courage to traverse the Paths of the Dead. "Odd," Gimli said later to Gandalf in Minas Tirith, after Aragorn's coronation, "that Legolas was more at ease in the depths of the mountain than I was. His natural place is a perch in the canopy of a tree, but he entered that fearsome place without a moment's hesitation."
"Yet not without reluctance," said Gandalf.
"Nonsense!" snorted Gimli. "He didn't show the slightest bit of reluctance."
"Which doesn't mean he didn't feel any," retorted the wizard. "Legolas is no different from any Elf; he does not gladly enter the depths or the darkness. Yet it is true that he can be at ease in such places; above all, however, he feels no fear. Legolas learned long ago—an Age ago—that there is no darkness so entire that it cannot be outfaced. It is not merely that he has the ability to sense his way through dark tunnels without the aid of his eyesight—anyone could develop that skill! For it is not simply the darkness of vision that he can withstand, but the darkness of despair. To that he would never succumb, even should the sun perish and the last star above flicker and go out."
Gimli looked very thoughtful and wandered off to the forges in one of the lower circles of the city, where he was already a most welcome visitor. There he puttered about for a very long time. It was after the dinner hour when he at last returned to the chamber he shared with the Elf.
"Gimli," exclaimed Legolas, "you missed the evening meal. That is not like you! But, look, I brought a basket away with me so that you would not suffer from hunger. You will find all the foods you are so fond off—including salted pork!"
Here Legolas wrinkled up his nose. He would never understand how the Dwarf could eat that pungent article.
"Hannon le, Legolas, mellon-nîn," replied Gimli gruffly, and the Elf's eyes widened at hearing elvish words in the mouth of the Dwarf. Then Gimli drew forth a small wooden box.
"I have been away from the forge for so long," he mumbled, "that this is but an insignificant assay of my skill—a trifle really. Was trying to think what to do with it, thought you might find it amusing. Here!"
He thrust the box at the Elf. Within was a golden chain to which was attached a pendant sunburst. Legolas held up the gift, and it shone in the firelight, casting rays of light upon the walls.
"It is more beautiful than ever the Ring was," he said solemnly, "and I am glad that it will not suffer the same fate. For I shall never cast it aside but will always keep it in remembrance of the one who forged it. It shall always shine both next to, and within, my heart."
"Should have known you'd make a speech," grumbled Gimli, who was now as red as the metal he had but lately been beating. "Dwarves are metal-smiths; Elves are wordsmiths."
"But all the same, as you say, we both of us are smiths," Legolas pointed out, smiling.
"Why that's true," Gimli said in surprise. "We are both smiths! Hah! That must explain it. Been wondering why we get along, you and I. That must be it. We're both smiths."
Now Gimli became positively jovial. Hitherto he had been wondering how he would explain to his kin that his greatest friend in all of Middle-earth was in fact an Elf. Now he knew. Henceforth as the two traveled together throughout Arda, whenever they came upon any Dwarves, Gimli would always introduce the Elf as 'Legolas, a smith of exceeding skill'. With such a recommendation, Legolas was of course always made to feel welcome amongst the Naugrim. And when the two encountered Legolas' kin, the Elf always introduced the Dwarf as 'Gimli, lover of light', and the Fair Folk did not hesitate to embrace him as one of their own. And that is why in after years it was said that the only thing ever forged in Middle-earth that exceeded the beauty of Gimli's pendant was the friendship of which it was an emblem.