CHAPTER X - DIE
Over the next five days, the Fellowship's behaviour seemed to return to normal, except now the hobbits did not speak with Legolas out of respect, not fear. On the day that would mark their second week of travelling, they made camp at a place Gandalf referred to as Hollin. The hobbits quickly unpacked and made an exceptionally-sized fire, the blankets swathed around the shoulders. The January air was already unleashing its wrath, and Gandalf suspected some foul play on Saruman's part as well. That night, Sam used more proportions that usual to make dinner. "'Warm stomach, warm toes' my Gaffer used to say," he said as he stirred. The hobbits had their routine visit as their meal was prepared, the four remaining mortals had their smoke, and the Elf was nowhere to be seen. This was not unusual. Legolas had been going off on his own frequently since that night. He rarely even spoke with Gandalf anymore. The only time he came in contact with anybody was when Aragorn had to force him to sit down so that he could inspect the wound, which he did later that night.
"Will you just sit down!" the Ranger demanded after nearly ten minutes of arguing.
Legolas, tired of fighting and knowing that Aragorn would get his way (as he always did when it came to the prince's health), sat down and allowed Aragorn to complete his inspection.
"It's going to leave a scar, but it should be fine," he said.
"And what's another scar to me?" Legolas said quietly, casting down his eyes. He looked back up only when he stood and left Aragorn kneeling by the rock feeling frustrated.
"He can't just close into himself! Not again!" Aragorn said, rather loudly, to Gandalf during their watch. He knew that he sounded like a ranting teen, but that was how he felt.
"Aragorn, you must trust Legolas to make his own decisions. He is wise and knows much, even for his age. You're tired. Why don't you go to sleep?"
"Because," Aragorn said defiantly, folding his arms over his chest.
"Oh, I'm sorry. You must've mistaken that for a question. Tomorrow morning a big decision must be made and I want you choosing with a full night's sleep."
"A decision about what?" Aragorn asked, though an uneasy feeling in his stomach told him that he already had an idea.
"Roads. Now go to sleep."
Aragorn nodded and left the wizard to his watch.
"You can reveal yourself, Legolas. He's gone to sleep and will not try to show you that he cares anymore this night."
Legolas stepped out from the bushes. "Which roads are you trying to select between?"
Gandalf bowed his head and took his pipe out of his mouth. "I believe that you have more right to know, so I will tell you. Legolas, tomorrow we will attempt to take the road to Caradhras, but if that fails, we will be taking the path through the mines of Moria."
"Caves?"
"Yes."
Legolas collapsed onto a rock, suddenly unable to breathe.
"You are an important asset to this Fellowship and, so, I hope that the way up Caradhras proves safer than I assume. If it does prove dangerous, though, I will not respect you any less if you decide to leave the Fellowship."
"No, Mithrandir, never. I swore an oath to protect these people and the cause. I know that Lord Elrond said that we did not have to go farther than we wished to, but I feel responsible for what happens to them."
"If it is possible, I hold you higher in my respects for deciding this. I only hope we won't have to put it to the test."
"We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan! Or take the west road to my city!" Boromir yelled above the howling wind. Under each arm he held Merry and Pippin, who were past the point of shivering and were in great danger of severe hypothermia. "It will be the death of the hobbits!"
"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn cried. He had Sam and Frodo tucked under each arm, both who were quite pale and blue in the lips, also past shivering.
"If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it! Let us go through the Mines of Moria!" said Gimli loudly and somewhat eagerly.
Gandalf glanced forward at Legolas with eyes full of apology and regret. Legolas bit back the quivering feeling that had past through his body and nodded. Gandalf turned back to the Fellowship, his gaze falling on Frodo. "Let the Ringbearer decide."
Frodo looked at his four kinsmen, all of whom looked frozen, frightened, and in pain. This put the final weight on his decision. "We will go through the mines!"
"So be it."
Legolas bowed his head and did his best to bear the fact that he would be returning to memories that he had tried to push away for five years. They were memories that haunted his dreams, his thoughts; every time his eyes moved he saw another Orc with a whip. Those were all delusions, he knew it, but entering a place where the air was just as close and the light just as dim and the smell of death just as foul. Legolas strayed out of thought and next remembered walking on loose rocks and dead grass in the shadow of a dismal mountain. His breath was catching in his chest and for a moment he felt bonds around his wrists and heard his brothers cursing and fighting against the hold of the Orcs. The next four days were going to test his mental stability worse than he initially expected.
"We will rest here. Get a fire going, the hobbits will need heat," Gandalf commanded.
Boromir and Aragorn set immediately to finding spare pieces of wood among the rocks, a tedious and difficult job. It was nearly an hour before they had an adequate-sized flame. The hobbits sat closely together under a blanket as near to the flames as was safe. Soon they began to shiver. Boromir, Aragorn, Gimli, and Gandalf also stood near the fire, none of them saying anything. Legolas had grown slightly cold on the peaks of Caradhras, and would've eagerly welcomed a fire, if he had not begun to see flashes of frighteningly vivid images of Mordor. When the hobbits had finally become rather dry, it began to rain. Lightening split the sky and thunder made even the fire cower.
"Legolas!"
Gandalf quickly moved the Company into a sufficient-sized cave in the side of Moria, there was plenty of room for all of them and even a small pile of wood in the corner. The hobbits quickly built another fire.
All the fear and grief he had bottled inside him exploded with the thought of a cave. Legolas began to break down. The burnt, broken faces of his brothers quickly came and went in his mind. He fell to his knees in the mud, holding his slender hands over his ears as if that might make the screaming stop. Each boom of thunder was a cry for help or pain. The lightning was the crack of a burning whip. Legolas's breath was hitching in his throat, small gasps accompanied whenever he managed to inhale.
"Legolas!"
Calen and Ithil kneeling next to Isilme's body in the pale torchlight
The dark room where the spirit of death and Sauron passed through his heart
Redome weeping as he wretched until death because of a severe poison
Ilmen falling to the floor with a dagger shoved into his heart
Anar's final rib cracking as he lay on a rack, followed by a scream
"Stop it!" Legolas screamed, bowing over his knees, tears and rain falling down his cheeks. "STOP IT!"
"Legolas!" Aragorn cried, stumbling in the slippery grass as he sprinted out to him.
"Legolas!"
"Naar ar' gurth e' Mordor!"
The Dark Room
"This isn't a way to live! We might as well all die!"
"If we don't bind and dress the wounds, he'll die…"
"No! I'm not going without him!"
"Isilme!"
Redome retching and weeping until the Halls accepted him
Ilmen's dagger
Snap
"Calen!"
"Gurth e' Mordor!"
"Welcome, Prince of Mirkwood."
"We might as well all die!"
"He'll die!"
"I'm not going without him!"
"LEGOLAS!" Aragorn shouted, grabbing his shoulders firmly.
"Legolas, look at me! Please!"
"We might as well all die!"
"Calen!"
"I'm not going without him!"
"Nîn na aut a' gurth."
"Let me die!"
DIE!
"LEGOLAS!" Aragorn cried, his eyes wide with worry and fear.
DIE!
And Legolas knew no more…