Author's Note: There will be a slight translation in this chapter. The translation will be at the very end of the chapter. I will designate any further translations in this particular story in a similar fashion. Now, on with the chapter!

LOTR...LOTR… LOTR...LOTR… LOTR...LOTR… LOTR...LOTR…

The next few days passed in a similar manner for the elf and the dwarf. All night they would travel across the land with as much speed and caution as they could muster. Always they traveled in the direction of Mordor and the dread of the path beyond the walls of the encircling mountains grew ever the more frightening in their minds, though neither of them would admit it to the other. Each day they would rest, using whatever shelter that they could find that would offer them any sort of protection from the eyes of Sauron's allies. There they would share meals that grew ever more meager by the day and sleep to regain whatever strength that they could. Though Legolas said nothing, he felt each passing day bring a greater weight to the ring that hung about his neck. The ring knew that it was approaching Mordor and that within the tower, its master would be awaiting it. It was becoming more and more of a burden for Legolas to carry, and he thought back often to Frodo. What must have the burden been like for the little halfling? Still, there was one good thing that Legolas was thankful for, and that was that he had Gimli at his side throughout the ordeal. So far, though they spoke little out of fear, the dwarf's company, paired with Legolas' pure elven spirit, had greatly helped in keeping the elf's mind off of the ring. If it was trying to corrupt him at all, it had barely gotten a foothold in his mind.

"We are drawing close to the Black Gate now," Legolas said one early morning after he and Gimli had chosen a place to wait out the day. "I should say that we could reach the Black Gate this very evening if we wished."

"Do we dare risk the front entrance to that land?" Gimli asked. "I think that would be suicide."

"I have been thinking much about that myself, friend. I think the gate is our best hope."

"How can that be? Surely we will be caught!"

Legolas shook his head in the slowing lightening morning. "I know of no other way into that land. I do not dare risk the mountains. They are too perilous and our provisions are far too low. We would never make it over, or if we somehow chanced to make it into Mordor by that route, we would not have the energy to finish your journey. We are left with only two choices, to take the passage of Cirith Ungol or to risk the gate." He shook his head sadly. "I think, of the two, Cirith Ungol will be the most treacherous. Faramir told us that Frodo and Sam had headed that way when he came across them in Ithilien and they were captured. My guess is that the enemy will have posted a heavy guard there in case another ringbearer decides to sneak into Mordor. I do not think that he fears the penetration of his lands by way of the front door."

"You mean to walk right under his nose? But how?"

"By playing that part that the enemy wishes me to play. But you, my friend, I will have to ask you to trust me completely. When we approach the gate, you must be subservient to me and must let me do all of the talking."

"What are you getting at?"

"You will see. But look now, the sun has already risen. We must rest, for I fear that this night shall be the most dangerous we have yet faced."

Gimli started to argue, to try and wrestle from the elf just what exactly he had meant by needing Gimli to be subservient to him. But then he thought the better of it. It Legolas wished Gimli to know of his plan, then he would not have held back any of the details. He would have spoken plainly of his plan. It was true that since they had found one another again, Legolas was acting ever the more secretive and withdrawn, but Gimli supposed that he could overlook and forgive the elf's behavior. He could not guess as to what a burden the ring was proving to be, nor could he imagine how terrifying being the ringbearer was. So he said nothing and stretched out on the ground and allowed himself to sleep.

The two awoke just before the final rays of sunlight faded. They ate swiftly and took to the road once more. Legolas was determined to make it into Mordor before dawn; that Gimli could tell by the swiftness of his friend's pace. All through the night they traveled and although dawn approached, they noticed that the further east they traveled, the darker it became. The reek of Mordor made thick black clouds that hung in the air and prevented the sunlight from breaking through. Ahead of them, the gate loomed ever closer.

They approached the gate openly now, allowing the orcs who stood guard to see them freely. The orcs immediately stood erect, straightening up from their slouched positions as they leaned against their long spears. They made a sign for Legolas and Gimli to halt. Both stopped in their tracks, just a few feet from where the orcs stood.

"Who are you and what is your business in Mordor?" asked the one with the scar across his right cheek.

"I am a messenger," Legolas replied. "I was traveling with a group of a half dozen others, escorting a group of dwarves to their new stations."

"I see no others," replied the other orc whose skin looked as if it had been burnt in a fire.

"Indeed," Legolas replied. "Several days ago, a fight broke out among the lieutenants. One of the dwarves had managed to get free. Each blamed the other for their lack of vigilance. Swords were drawn. I am the only one who lives from that regiment."

"And the dwarves?"

"Escaped," Legolas said, with a shade of embarrassment and remorse tainting his words. "They scattered and fled. I was only able to recapture this one that you see here before you."

"Where are his chains?" asked the first orc, doubtfully.

"They were left too far behind before I was able to recapture this one. I did not wish to risk going back, but thought it best to bring him straight here. I knew that if he tried to escape, I could easily overtake him once more. The first time, I was merely caught off guard because of the fight."

The orcs peered at Gimli, who did his best to look positively worn down and broken in will. He starred fixedly at the ground, not daring to lift his eyes out of fear that Legolas' ruse would be discovered. Legolas, however, held his gaze proudly, even a little defiantly, looking the orcs in the eyes.

"What do you say, Oxtongue?" asked the burnt looking guard.

The other looked momentarily uncertain. "Where did you say you were traveling from?"

"I had been stationed in one of the camps near the border of what was once Rohan," he lied. "My name is Raikaquena."

The first orc stared at Legolas for a long moment. It was clear to Gimli that the orc perhaps suspected that something was amiss. After all, Legolas was a far cry from looking like one of Sauron's servants. Despite the story of abuse that was written over the elf's body and the obvious lack of nourishment that he suffered from, Legolas had not been tortured or mutilated enough to look like an orc. The same thought had passed through Legolas' mind as well and inwardly, he felt the cold fingers of fear squeezing around his heart. He no more looked like an orc than a troll looked like a man. It was very possible that the guards would not believe his story. He had to do something to prove himself, and soon.

"Let me pass," he demanded, as a thought crossed his mind. "I have to get this scum to his new position. I do not wish to have one of the eight breathing down my neck for an unsatisfactory job. I will let them know that two bumbling guards at the gate found it necessary to hold up my task."

The scarred orc, Oxtongue, flinched a little at the threat. It was apparent to Legolas that the creature had been chastised by the Nazgul before. There was too much fear that he saw in the orc's eyes. Oxtongue shifted uncomfortably.

"Go on then," he said at length. "Take the filth to the furnaces. All new labor goes there first."

Legolas nodded in understanding and roughly pushed Gimli. "You heard him! Get moving or else I will turn you into worm fodder."

Gimli nodded weakly, his head still cast downwards. He did not even attempt to make a verbal acknowledgement to Legolas' orders. He moved forward, shuffling his feet in the dust, his feet aching from the night's journey. He hoped that once inside, Legolas could find a place for them to rest. But now he said nothing, he only marched forward like a beaten slave. Behind him, Legolas continued his orders, calling the dwarf by every conceivable degrading term that he could muster to mind. Slowly, the two penetrated their way into Mordor, leaving the two unwitting guards to keep watch, should any intruders approach the gate.

LOTR...LOTR...LOTR...LOTR...LOTR...LOTR...

Raika – false, Quena - speech