Hello to all of you out there in fan fic land! Hope life is treating you all well. Thanks to all of you who have read this, whether or not you've left a review or not. Hope you continue to read and enjoy!
Warnings: This will contain some slash, and an OC pairing. If you don't like it, don't read it, send me a nasty email and insult both of our intelligences.
Disclaimer: They all belong to Tolkien. Not me. I don't have enough brain power to come up with this stuff. Also, a lot of this is taken directly from the book. All of the titles come from the brilliant mind of T.S. Elliot.
World's End
Chapter 6: Death's Other Kingdom
The fire burned low, and the last bit of wood was thrown on.
"The night is getting cold," said Aragorn, wrapping his cloak tightly around him. "The dawn is not far off."
"If any dawn can pierce these clouds," said Gimli.
Boromir stepped out of the circle and stared up into the blackness of the night, rubbing his arms briskly. "The snow is less," he said, "and the wind is quieter."
Frodo gazed wearily at the flakes still falling out of the dark to be revealed white for a moment in the light of the dying fire, but for a long time he could see no sign of their slacking. Then suddenly, as sleep was beginning to creep over him again, he was aware that the wind had indeed fallen, and the flakes were becoming larger and fewer. Very slowly, a dim light began to grow. At last the snow stopped all together.
As the light grew stronger it showed a silent shrouded world. Below their refuge were white humps and domes and shapeless deeps beneath which the path that they had trodden was altogether lost, but the heights above were hidden in great clouds still heavy with the threat of snow.
Gimli looked up and shook his head. "Caradhras has not forgiven us," he said "He has more snow yet to fling at us, if we go on. The sooner we go back and down the better."
To this all agreed---Aragorn very reluctantly---but their retreat was now difficult. It might well prove impossible. Only a few paces from the ashes of their fire the snow lay many feet deep, higher than the heads of the hobbits; in some places it had been scooped and piled by the wind into great drifts against the cliff.
"If Gandalf would go before us with a bright flame, he might melt a path for you," said Legolas. He felt much better after that drink, and his light-hearted manner had returned. This time without the nausea.
"If Elves could fly over mountains, they might fetch the Sun to save us," answered Gandalf in a grumpy voice, causing Ylana to giggle and Aragorn to let out a chuckle. "But I must have something to work on. I cannot burn snow."
"Well," said Boromir, "when heads are at a loss, bodies must serve, as we say in my country. The strongest of us must seek a way. See! Though all is now snow-clad, our path, as we came up, turned about that shoulder of rock down yonder. If we reach that point, maybe it would prove easier beyond. It is no more than a furlong off, I guess."
"The let us force a path tither, you and I!" said Aragorn, winking at Legolas, who grinned widely.
Aragorn was the tallest of the Company, but Boromir, little less in height, was broader and heavier in build. He led the way, and Aragorn followed him. Slowly they moved off, and were soon toiling heavily. In places the snow was breast-high, and often Boromir seemed to be swimming or burrowing with his great arms rather than walking.
Ylana lay back on the ground, arms crossed behind her head, staring up into the sky. Legolas watched them for awhile with a smile upon his lips, and then turned to the others. "The strongest must seek a way, say you? But I say: let a ploughman plough, but choose an otter for swimming, and for running light over grass and leaf---or over snow---an Elf."
With that he sprang forth nimbly, and then Frodo noticed as if for the first time, though hr had long known it, that the Elf had no boots, but wore only light shoes, as he always did, and his feet made little imprint in the snow.
"Farewell!" he said to Gandalf. "I go to find the Sun!" Then swift as a runner over firm sand he shot away, and quickly overtaking the toiling men, with a wave of his hand he passed them, and sped into the distance, and vanished round the rocky turn.
Ylana, who had rose to a sitting position, stared after him with an open mouth. She had heard that Legolas was a playful sprite, but she had only seen the serious side of her friend. She didn't know whether to be excited or worried by this turn of events, so she turned to the one who might be able to tell her.
"Gandalf?"
The wizard sighed as he, too, stared after the retreating Elf. "I don't know, Ylana," he said softly. "I just don't know."
The others waited huddled together, watching until Boromir and Aragorn dwindled into black specks in the whiteness. At length, they too passed from sight. The time dragged on. The clouds lowered, and now a few flakes of snow came curling down.
An hour, maybe, went by, and then at last they saw Legolas coming back. Ylana and Sam looked up from their game of stones to see that, at the same time, Boromir and Aragorn repapered round the bend far behind the Elf and came laboring up the slope.
'Well," cried Legolas as he ran up, not even winded. "I have not brought the Sun. She is walking in the blue fields of the South, and a little wreath of snow on this Redhorn hillock troubles her not at all. But I have brought back a gleam of good hope for those who are doomed to go on feet. There is the greatest wind-drift of all just beyond the turn, and there our Strong Men were almost buried. They despaired, until I returned and told them that the drift was a little wider than a wall. And on the other side the snow suddenly grows less, while further down it is no more than a white coverlet to cool a hobbit's toes."
"Ah, it is as I said," growled Gimli, leaning on his ax. "It was no ordinary storm. It is the ill will of Caradhras. He does not love Elves and Dwarves, and that drift was laid to cut off our escape."
"But happily your Caradhras has forgotten that you have Men with you," said Boromir, who came up at that moment, with a wink. "And doughty Men too, if I may say it; though lesser men with spades might have served you better. Still, we have thrust a lane through the drift; and for that all here may be grateful who cannot run as light as Elves." Here he smiled at Ylana to show that he meant that part as a joke.
"But how are we to get down there, even if you have cut through the drift?" said Pippin, voicing the thought of all the hobbits.
"Have hope!" said Boromir. "I am weary, but I still have some strength left, and I'm sure Aragorn does, too. We will bear the little folk. The others no doubt will make swift to tread the path behind us. Come, Master Peregrin! I will begin with you!"
He lifted up the hobbit. "Cling to my back! I shall need my arms," he said and strode forward. Aragorn with Merry came behind. Pippin couldn't help but marvel at his strength, seeing the passage that he had already forced with no other tool than his great limbs. Even now, burdened as he was, he was widening the track for those who followed, thrusting the snow aside as he went.
They came at length to the great drift. It was flung across the mountain-path like a sheer and sudden wall, and its crest, sharp as if shaped with knives, reared up more than twice the height of Boromir; but through the middle a passage had been beaten, rising and falling like a bridge. On the far side, Merry and Pippin were set down, and there they waited with Legolas and Ylana for the rest of the Company to arrive.
After a while, Boromir returned carrying Sam. Behind in the narrow but well-trodden track came Gandalf, leading Bill with Gimli perched among the baggage. Last came Aragorn carrying Frodo. They passed through the lane, but hardly had Frodo touched the ground when, with a deep rumble there rolled down a fall of stones and slithering snow. The spray of it half blinded the Company as they crouched against the cliff, and when the air cleared again they saw that the path was blocked behind them.
"Enough, enough!" cried Gimli. "We are departing as quickly as we may." And indeed with that last stroke the malice of the mountain seemed to be expended as if Caradhras was satisfied that the invaders had been beaten off and would not dare to return. The threat of snow lifted, the clouds began to break and the light grew broader.
As Legolas had so happily reported, they found that the snow became steadily more shallow as they went down, so that even the hobbits could trudge along. Soon they all stood once more on the flat shelf at the head of the steep slope where the snow had begun in earnest the night before.
The morning was now far advanced. From the high place they looked back westwards over the lower lands. Far away in the tumble of country that lay at the foot of the mountain was the dell from which they had started to climb the pass. The Elves' hair was blowing around their faces, but it was a soft breeze that brought no herald of snow.
Frodo's legs ached. He was chilled to the bone and hungry; and his head was dizzy as he thought of the long and painful march downhill. Black specks swam before his eyes. He rubbed them, but the black specks remained. In the distance below him, but still high above the lower foothills, dark dots were circling in the air.
"The birds," Aragorn said grimly, pointing down.
"That cannot be helped now," said Gandalf. "Whether they are good or evil, or have nothing to do with us at all, we must go down at once. Not even on the knees of Caradhras will we wait for another night-fall!"
A cold wind flowed down behind them, as they turned their backs on the Redhorn Gate, and stumbled wearily down the slope.
Caradhras had defeated them.
It was evening, and the grey light was again waning fast when they halted for the night. They were very weary. The mountains were veiled in deepening dusk, and the wind was cold. Gandalf spared them one more mouthful each of the miruvor of Rivendell. When they had eaten some food he called a council.
While he did that, Legolas begged himself to be excused. He said he wanted to patrol for he had an uneasy feeling about the place, and Gandalf granted him leave. So off the Elf went, looking as normal and healthy as always.
Five minutes later, when he was sure he was out of earshot of the others, he dove behind a bush and began to retch as his stomach heaved, rejecting everything he had eaten since the last time this had happened.
But, unlike last time, he continued to throw up even after his stomach was empty. For the Elf, who had been through numerous battles and been injured too many times to count, this was the most painful thing he'd every experienced. He could understand now why mortals had such short lives!
He was finally finished and leaned back against a rock, staring up into the evening sky. Why is this happening to me? he silently demanded of the stars. Why am I suddenly experiencing this human sickness? Why just me? Why not Ylana, too?
But the dim stars would not answer, so Legolas was left alone to his troubling thoughts.
"We cannot, of course, go on again tonight," Gandalf said. "The attack on the Redhorn Gate has tired us out, and we must rest here for awhile."
"And then where are we to go?" asked Frodo.
"We still have our journey and our errand before us," the wizard answered. 'We have no choice but to go on, or return to Rivendell."
Pippin's face brightened visibly at the mere mention of return to Rivendell; Merry and Sam looked up hopefully. But Aragorn and Boromir made no sign. Frodo looked troubled. Ylana and Legolas were nowhere in sight.
"I wish I was back there," Frodo said wistfully. "But how can I return without shame---unless there is indeed no other way, and we are already defeated?"
"You are right, Frodo," said Gandalf. "To go back is to admit defeat, and face worse defeat to come. If we go back now, then the Ring must remain there: we shall not be able to set out again. Then sooner or later Rivendell will be besieged, and after a brief and bitter time it will be destroyed. The Ringwraiths are deadly enemies, but they are only shadows yet of the power and terror they would possess if the Ruling Ring was on their master's hand again."
"Then we must go on, if there is a way," Frodo said with a sigh. Sam sank back into gloom.
"There is a way that we may attempt," said Gandalf with a guarded look at Aragorn, whose face was grim. "I thought from the beginning when first I considered this journey that we should try it. But it is not a pleasant way, and I have not spoken of it to the Company before. Aragorn was against it, until the pass over the mountain had at least been tried."
"If it is a worse road than the Redhorn Gate, then it must be evil indeed," said Merry. "But you had better tell us about it, and let us know the worse at once."
"The road that I speak of leads to the Mines of Moria," said Gandalf. Only Gimli lifted up his head; a smoldering fire was in his eyes. On all the others a dread fell at the mention of that name. Even to the hobbits it was a legend of vague fear.
"The road may lead to Moria, but how can we hope that it will lead through Moria?" said Aragorn darkly.
Frodo couldn't hold back a shudder that had nothing to do with the cold. So this is Aragorn's Dark Road…
"It is a name of ill omen," said Boromir. "Nor do I see the need to go there. If we cannot cross the mountains, let us journey southwards, until we come to the Gap of Rohan, where men are friendly to my people, taking the road that I followed on my way tither. Or we might pass by and cross the Isen into Langstrand and Lebennin, and so come to Gondor from the regions nigh to the sea."
"Things have changed since you came north, Boromir," answered Gandalf. "You know well of Saruman and his treachery! With him I may have business of my own ere this is all over. But the Ring will not come near Isengard, if that can by any means be prevented. The Gap of Rohan is closed to us while we go with the Bearer.
"As for the longer road: we cannot afford the time. We might spend a year in such a journey, and we should pass through many lands that are empty and harborless. Yet they would not be safe. The watchful eyes of both Saruman and of the Enemy are on them. When you came north, Boromir, you were in the Enemy's eyes only one stray wanderer from the South and a matter of small concern to him: his mind was busy with pursuit of the Ring. But you return now as a member of the Ring's Company, and you are in peril as long as you remain with us. The danger will increase with every league that we go south under the naked sky.
"Since our open attempt on the mountain pass our plight has become more desperate, I fear. I see now little hope, if we do not soon vanish from sight for awhile, and cover our trail. Therefore I advise that we should go neither over the mountains, nor round them. That is a Road at any rate that the Enemy will least expect us to take."
'We do not know what he expects," said Boromir. "He may watch all roads, likely and unlikely. In that case to enter Moria would be to walk into a trap, hardly better than knocking at the gate of the Dark Tower itself. The name of Moria is black."
"You speak of what you do not know, when you liken Moria to the stronghold of Sauron," answered Gandalf. "I alone of you have ever been in the dungeons of the Dark Lord, and only in his older and lesser dwelling in Dol Gulder. Those who pass the gates of Barad-Dur do not return. But I would not lead you into Moria if there were no hope of coming out again. If there are Orcs there, it may prove ill for us, that is true. But most of the Orcs of the Misty Mountains were scattered or destroyed in the Battle of the Five Armies. The Eagles report that Orcs are gathering again from afar; but there is a hope that Moria is still free.
"There is even a chance that Dwarves are there, and that in some deep hall of his fathers, Balin son of Fundin may be found. However it may prove, one must tread the path that need chooses!"
Frodo heard a slight crunch of rocks and, turning, saw that the two Elves had rejoined them. He couldn't be sure, but he thought Legolas looked a little pale.
"I will tread the path with you, Gandalf!" said Gimli. "I will go and look on the halls of Durin, whatever may wait there---if you can find the doors that are shut."
"Good, Gimli!" said Gandalf. "You encourage me. We will seek the hidden doors together. And we will come through. In the ruins of the Dwarves, a Dwarf's head will be less easy to bewilder than Elves or Men or Hobbits. Yet it will not be the first time I have been to Moria. I sought there long for Thrain son of Thror after he was lost. I passed through, and I came out again alive!"
"I too once passed the Dimrill Gate," said Aragorn quietly, "but though I also came out again, the memory is very evil. I do not wish to entire Moria a second time."
"I and I don't wish to entire it even once," said Pippin.
"Nor me," muttered Sam.
"Of course!" said Gandalf. 'Who would? But the question is: who will follow me, if I lead you there?"
"I will," said Gimli eagerly.
"I will," said Aragorn heavily. "You followed my lead almost to disaster in the snow, and have said no word of blame. I will follow your lead now---if this last warning does not move you. It is not of the Ring, nor of us other that I am thinking now, but of you, Gandalf. And I say to you: if you pass the doors of Moria, beware!"
"I will not go," said Boromir, "not unless the vote of the whole Company is against me. What do Legolas, Ylana and the little folk say? The Ring-bearer's voice surely should be heard!"
"I do not wish to go to Moria," said Legolas, then turned to Ylana.
The female Elf shrugged. "I do not wish to travel there," she said softly. "Elves do not like to go underground. But I will follow Aragorn wherever he goes."
The hobbits said nothing. Sam looked at Frodo. At last Frodo spoke. "I do not wish to go," he said, "but neither do I wish to refuse the advice of Gandalf. I beg that there should be no vote, until we have slept on it. Gandalf will get votes easier in the light of the morning than in this cold gloom. How the wind howls!"
At these words all fell into silent thought. They heard the wind hissing among the rocks and trees, and there was a howling and wailing round them in the empty spaces of the night.
Suddenly Aragorn leapt to his feet. "How the wind howls!" he cried.
Legolas, coming to stand by his side, nodded. "Then you noticed it as well."
"It is howling with wolf-voices. The Wargs are here!"