Disclaimer: I own NOTHING of middle-earth. All places and characters are JRR Tolkein's, and New Line Cinema. NO monies are made from this. It is strictly a work of enjoyment.
Wow. Long distance between updates. I do apologize. Been working on an RPG site, but I promise to keep updating more regular now that that url's up.
On this installment, I've taken more liberty as to what occurred while Gandalf footled about with the doors. I believe I may have relied more on the book this time, than the movie (as I wrote this in O'ahu and had no opportunity to slip in my DVD!).
Ryoko – Please…don't sit at your desk! ^_^
White Wolf – I hope I continue to entertain – AND keep the water nasty! ^,,^
NaughtyNat – Glad you enjoy. Whose my favorite character? You're right when you say I lean toward Legolas. Definitely pervy Elf lover. VBG
Alexa – yes, I too wondered since reading the Silmarrillion, that being inside the earth has to be completely disorienting. Especially for a First Born. And so I wondered what his true feelings would be. I hope I don't disappoint.
The Doors of Durin
The road to Moria continues…
A gold leaf fell lightly on the table, though the breeze carried it a few inches further away. Most all the trees were bare, spines reaching up to an overcast sky of gray and silver. No sunshine broke through the gloom that had canopied the forest city of Imladris. It was as if the elements warred against her skills, as light as they were.
The Elf maiden reached out to capture the delicate leaf and held it close to her tear-stained cheek. What little life was left inside its small veins lended their strength to hers, and with this tiny assurance of hope, she opened her eyes and looked down in the silver bowl upon the table. The breeze rippled the water's surface as her reflection stared back at her.
Her grandmother had taught her how to hone the skill to see visions within the crystal water - though Arwen possessed no Elven Ring of Amiroth to aid her. The Undomiel had discovered under Galadriel's tutelage that she had a small gift for touching the mind and heart of those most dear to her. Her father had kept his visions of foresight private since the Company had departed, and her entreaties for any word or glimpse of Estel's whereabouts had fallen on deaf ears.
Only in her dreams, or in the darkest hours of the night, did she sense him, alive, brave, strong - and deeply troubled. Legolas' thoughts and feelings were easiest to touch, for his vows bound him to her.
The Prince's fears had called to her the night before, awakening her dreams. Arwen had sat up in her bed and closed her eyes, touching Legolas' cheek with her hand, reaching across the miles to comfort him, to ease his fears. She was as surprised as he had been at her intimate contact - and again she was reassured the Valar had blessed his friendship with Estel. She had felt the tree beneath the prince, heard his thoughts as whispers in her mind. He had been afraid, though she was unsure of where the fear came from. What could one of the First Born see with such apprehension?
She did not have her answer that night - for just as she had felt his mind and eased his fears, the Prince's presence was gone. Arwen could only assume something had taken his concentration from her. Arwen did not know if the Prince's fear was for Estel, or for himself. Or if her words had assured Legolas of his strengths.
And now she sat before her silver bowl, a present from her grandfather. The cloudy afternoon kept record of the failed attempts at calling forth any visions, and before her - before her stood her own fear of failure. Of being alone. Of traveling to the Gray Havens only half a being without Estel. And though her father's wish was for her to accompany him to Valinor, it surprised her that he did not realize her death awaited her there, for without Estel, grief would take her instead to the Halls of Mandos.
Estel's final declarations of futile love still rang loud in her mind. She had only Legolas' parting words to sustain her. She chose the Prince's words, for whom else other than herself should know the Ranger's mind and heart? Their friendship was of a bond so strong that at times she envied Legolas Estel's love and devotion. Surely he would not turn away from the Elven Prince, as he had turned from his heart's desire.
No. Such thoughts would aid neither herself nor Legolas. Again she pondered his fear, yet was unsure of its source. What had happened along the road to bring such trepidation to the Archer? It could not be that something had befallen Estel, or she would know. She had gathered the sense that it was something that lay ahead of them, and so now this was why she had taken the bowl and the water, in hopes that she could somehow see the future.
If not for Legolas, but for herself. And the safety of Estel, for though she had accepted the Prince's vow freely, she knew he would need her support. He and the Ranger had survived many journeys together, but in the past, the very heart of Mordor had not been the threat upon their lives.
Releasing the leaf upon the table, Arwen blew softly into the water, creating her own ripples upon its smooth surface. She controlled her breathing, cleared her mind and focused on the patterns of life.
At first her excitement as the water became mist and spilled over the side supported her confidence. Perhaps she did possess her Father's gift after all, and it was her own fear that had released it. But then the mist vanished and blackness remained. She saw water. Only water. And it was several minutes before she realized it was not the mirrored surfaced of the silver bowl she saw, but a black pool. Seemingly endless in its enormity. Mist surrounded it, and she felt as if there were mountains nearby. Dark. Tall. Foreboding..
Familiar.
Many times had Arwen made the journey over the Misty Mountains to Lorien. She could trace the paths in her sleep. Long has she lived in Middle Earth and traveled down many roads. And these mountains - she knew them. Though only from a distance. They were old and full of a darkness that dwelled beneath.
Terror clutched at her throat and she moved away from the table. Breath came harsh, and she gasped as the realization of the Fellowship's destination dawned upon her. She clutched at her neck, willing herself to breath, to calm the clamor of her heart. The cause of Legolas' fear was now apparent.
Moria...they are traveling into Moria!
~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Gandalf's continuous ministrations with the gate had become a steady accompaniment to the lake's unearthly silence as Strider watched the water. He sat on the black, rocky shore, the moon above the only illumination save for the door behind them. Merry sat on his left, while Pippin fidgeted on his right. Their conversation had been light and sporadic, its content always directed back to food.
What unnerved the Ranger most about the water was its utter quiet, save for the occasional ripple that came toward shore from somewhere in the center. He doubted anything could live in its murky brackishness. Yet what caused the motion? And why am I pestered by the feeling that something is watching us?
"What does he see?" Pippin said softly and Strider looked down at the halfling.
"Who see?"
"The Prince," he pointed to where Legolas stood at the water's edge, several feet away from the three. He stood as still as stone, save for the occasional turn of his head. The breeze that moved the mist across the water brushed the Elf's flaxen hair about his shoulders. His bow was shouldered, but his arms were out at his sides, his long fingered hands spread wide. The Elf's entire bearing was tense, alert, ready in case of danger.
"I do not know, Pippin," Strider put a hand on the Hobbit's shoulder. "But be confident that if there is danger, Legolas will let us know."
Pippin nodded slowly, his gaze still resting upon the Elf.
"I think he's glowing." Merry said from Strider's other side. "Is he glowing?"
Strider turned to Merry. "Yes. Elves have an inner light that is sometimes seen in dark places."
"I don't remember seeing it in Rivendell."
"Because there is the light of good there, in the Last Homely House."
Merry smiled.
Pippin tugged on Strider's sleeve and the Ranger looked back to the younger Hobbit. "Why didn't he tell us he was a Prince?"
"Does such a thing matter?"
"No..." the Hobbit looked up at Strider, his own shaggy hair moving in the cold breeze. "It - I was just surprised, that's all. I mean...that a Prince would go with us. This is a dangerous quest. I don't know much about Princes and Kingdoms," he grinned, "we don't have Kings and Queens in the Shire. But I would assume that he being a Prince - I mean - wouldn't his Kingdom rather their Prince remain at home?"
It was a valid question, and one Strider had not thought anyone within their company would think to ask, so he was not prepared to answer. Legolas should give the reason, but Strider thought the Elf might not be in the right mood. "Legolas volunteered because he believes in the survival of Middle-Earth. His land of Mirkwood has been under attack by the evils of Mordor since long before you or I were born. I do not believe his Father will be happy of his son's choice in quests once he learns of it - but I think King Thranduil will understand." Strider didn't believe much of what he said, having been subjected to the Elven King's temper on many occasions. Legolas and his Father had not been in agreement with many things for an untold number of years.
I don't know the cause, and one day, when the war of this ring is over, I intend on having a long adventure with my old friend to discover the why.
Sam was heard to speak softly a small walk away. He stroked Bill's mane lovingly, and was talking softly to the animal as he removed the Company's provisions. Gandalf had given him the task of unpacking the pony, with the simple reason that the beast of burden would not be welcome in Moria.
A plopping sound brought Strider's attention round back the water. Heavily ripples moved what bits of rotted wood floated near the shore. Something had moved close by. He turned in time to see Merry attempt what he believed was a second rock into the water. Catching the Hobbit's upper arm to stop the throw, the Dunédan leaned in close and spoke. "Do not disturb the water."
With a squeeze of Pippin's shoulder, Strider stood and made his way carefully over the rocks to the roundish Hobbit. He passed behind Legolas. The Elf remained where he was, unmoving, staring into the water. Strider sensed his friend's turmoil, though whether it was from the water or their eminent descent into the mines, he could not be sure.
"It's not fair, Strider," Sam said softly as the Ranger approached. "He's just an animal. He'll catch his death of cold out here. And what if he wonders these mountains and never gets home?"
"He'll be fine." Strider helped remove two of the packs, one of them containing several wrapped packages of arrows. "The mines are no place for a pony, Sam."
"It's like he doesn't even care, Mr. Strider, Sir." Sam sniffed and wiped the tear away with a chubby hand.
"Who?"
The Hobbit looked toward the gates. "Mr. Gandalf. I know Wizards aren't Hobbits, or Men, or Elves - but they must have hearts. He doesn't even care what happens. He'll be out here all alone."
Something in the air changed and Strider looked up to see Legolas approaching them. The Elf's expression was stoic, as per usual with the Archer. Yet his stance was much relaxed. The Elf reached out and stroked the pony's forehead, speaking softly in Elvish as he let the pony nuzzle his side.
"What is he saying?" Sam said to the side to Strider.
But it was Legolas that answered, his blue gaze fixed on the burly Hobbit. "I told Bill not to fear. He will find his way home, Sam. He will go to Rivendell first, and from there Lord Elrond will see that he makes his way back to your Gaffer."
Sam's complexion grew a bright red and nodded, nay - nearly bowed - several times. "I'm thanking you, your Highness. I - I never expected you to..."
Strider watched as Legolas reached over the pony and grasped Sam's hand. The Hobbit's eyes widened as he looked into the gaze of the Elf. "Sam...here, in this place, on this journey, I am simply an Archer. I am here to serve Frodo and protect him."
And with this said, Strider saw the nearly imperceptible glance his old friend gave him. It was quick, merely a flicker, but it was there. Dunédans were trained to notice the smallest detail, a good skill in tracking.
But what did it mean? Oh if only I could read your mind, mellon nîn. I would discover what it was that has separated us.
Sam put his other hand on Legolas' and gave a shy nod. "Yes your high - Mr. Legolas - sir. You're being incognito, right? Just like Mr. Frodo traveled as Mr. Underhill from the Shire?"
Strider couldn't' help the laugh that escaped his lips, though he was able to keep the volume of it low. Legolas pulled his hand away and gave a quick nod to the Hobbit. "Yes, Master Sam. I am..incognito."
"I'll keep it quiet from now on," Sam beamed a smile.
With a final look to Strider the Elf turned to leave. Strider continued to help the Hobbit unpack Bills' saddle bags, though his attention and gaze returned to the retreating Elf. I will know your secrets, my dear friend. I do not have Arwen's love on this dangerous road...I will not survive it without your friendship.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
If truth were told, he had not spoken to the pony as such; instead the Elf had told the small beast that he envied him. He wished to trade places with the pony, and to leave this dark place. Ah, but these are not the thoughts of my father's son. And he was cast me into no good light if he knew them.
As he moved away from the Ranger and Sam, the Elf once again found himself face to face with the Dwarf. Gimli stood with his axe before him, again leaning upon it and the Elf began to wonder if the weapon was not somehow a living extension of the small, irritating creature.
"Master Gimli," Legolas nodded and made to move around the Dwarf.
But Gimli moved in front of him, his eyes twinkling, though his mouth, a small bow of a thing, was hidden inside the thick, red beard that covered the lower half of his face. "You did a good thing there, Lad. The Hobbit has been distraught since Gandalf spoke so harshly of the beastie." He leaned forward, casting a glance to his side as Boromir passed by in the direction of Strider and Sam. "Will the pony do as you tell him?"
Thinking now was not the time or place to display the honesty he held a creed to live by, the Prince of Mirkwood gave a small nod. The lie in and of itself wasn't a large one, for he knew if the pony escaped their present location, he would find his way back to the Elves. Though from there, enjoying the hospitality of Elrond's home, he doubted the pony would travel on to the Shire.
The Dwarf seemed pleased with this answer and moved aside. Again Legolas was confused by the Dwarf's behavior. For what purpose was this? He moved past, his direction intent upon the farthest tree - the second of the sentinels of the gate. He needed their strength as the whispers of whatever lived beneath the waters had grown more insistent. He would need strength and soon, even if he wasn't sure what it was he sensed danger from.
As he passed, he noticed Frodo sitting alone on a large boulder, his back to the gate, his own gaze focused upon the water. With a longing look to the tree, and a glance at the Wizard who wailed and rallied, his hands held high, Legolas turned and nimbly scaled the rocky coast to the Hobbit.
As he knelt beside Frodo, the Ring Bearer spoke. "Thanks."
The Elf turned a quizzical eye to Frodo.
"For what you said to Sam. He has a big heart, and I'm afraid of someone's off-handedly cruel words breaking it. I am used to Gandalf's moods, and having Bilbo for an Uncle, I am doubly prepared for such brackish answers and seemingly bullish comments. But Sam is not prepared." He focused his large, expressive blue eyes upon the Elf. "And I fear for his innocent heart."
"Aye," Legolas nodded. "He is a naive soul, and a good friend. Ever are his thoughts concerned with you and your well being."
"Can you read minds, Legolas?"
The Elf smiled at this. It was a common question, given from Men to Elves. "At times I can, though not as well as others. I had a friend once, that such a gift was given to him by the Valar at birth and often I would be troubled with his presence for I could keep no secrets from him."
"Where is he?"
Legolas took in a deep breath, quelling old pains that accompanied such feelings. "He is gone to the Halls of Mandos, Master Frodo." He looked at the water. "Why do you ask about my reading minds?"
"Because you seem to know things - and I know much of your insight is your keen sense. But you knew of what Sam needed to hear, and though his thoughts are most evident in his simple actions, I feel you can look into his mind. As I sometimes sense you in mine."
Legolas turned his gaze to look directly in the Ring Bearer's blue eyes. "There is something hidden within your speech, Master Hobbit. If you doubt my skill or devotion..."
"No, no - please. You must forgive me for I am tired and this," he put a hand to his chest where Legolas guessed the Ring rested. "it takes from me, minute to minute. I do not speak of what I mean." He looked to his right, in the direction of Strider and Sam. Legolas noticed that Boromir now helped in the pony's freedom of burden. "It is Strider."
"Strider?"
"Why do you pull away from him when he needs you now?"
The Elf moved back, still crouched. He knew he frowned at the Hobbit, but his expression did not change or bend the earnestness he sensed from the halfling. "I - I do not pull away from him."
"Yes, you do. You have much on your mind, and since we have been driven to take this road, you pull further and further away from him. He watches you - just as I watch Sam. And he worries about you, just as I worry for Sam."
Legolas was touched at the Hobbit's words. How could such a small creature, not First or Second Born, be so perceptive to me? He has touched upon the commonalities between our two friends and he has seen. "I care for Aragorn as well, but my first devotion and pledge is to protect you and the ring."
Frodo nodded and he turned his electric gaze back to the water. "I know. But...friends are hard to come by in these times, and I sense Aragorn...Strider...is a good man. An honest one, and maybe he could fulfill the prophecy of his birthright, the one that drives him so far from Arwen," he looked back to Legolas. "Don't drive him away, Legolas, as he drove her. Though I would wish for Sam to travel with Bill back to Rivendell, I do not believe I could walk this path without him. And though you care for Strider's safety - I may venture to say that you cannot manage the journey without him, nor he without you."
Insightful words from such a small creature. He had taken all of this - such true thoughts - from simply watching and understanding what the bond of friendship was. But with him, there was so much more here. Frodo had not made other vows to dear friends. He had not promised to the greatest of powers to pledge his friend's safety above his own. And though he doubted Arwen knew that was the thought in his mind when he made his final vow to him, he would keep it. Till the end. Legolas put a hand on Frodo.
"Frodo - there is more to my story than what I may speak of before the journey's end, but I will head your words."
Whispers interrupted his thoughts. Legolas looked quickly to the water and he leaned forward, straining to hear what the words said, for though they echoed in his mind, he did not understand them.
Frodo sensed his reaction and stood. "You feel it too," he whispered. "I do not like the water."
"Neither do I, Master Frodo." He glanced at the Hobbit. "There is danger here. Watch the water carefully, but do not disturb it." with that he stood and walked briskly away, before the Hobbit could expose anymore of him to the cold around them.
He ignored the glance of the Wizard as he reached out to the tree and closed his eyes and he felt for the spark - the hope he needed. He had not removed it from the first tree, but had shared it, enriched it, so that small green shoots of new life would soon show from its twisted and seemingly dead branches. With a sigh, he turned and leaned his back into the tree...and watched the water.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After the initial shock of the Company's position wore away, Arwen returned to her gazing, her confidence in her abilities boosted. She had not seen with foresight, but she believed she had seen what was now. She did not believe her connection with Estel, but with Legolas that allowed this. The Valar were watching, though ever silent in these times.
Night had come and Arwen suspected her father would come looking for her soon. She did not know what his reaction to her ministrations would be, but she could not have him stop her. With a determined expression on her face, Arwen took the bowl carefully into her arms and set about finding a place in the forest within Imladris where the moon shown through the clouds.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
...the Ring Bearer...take the Ring...bring me the Ring....Kill the others
Legolas shook his head. The whispers had taken form in his mind, no longer the frustrating buzzing noise. Their sound took shape, moved from the ethereal to the solid. He straightened from his perch against the tree and narrowed his eyes as he looked out over the water. Danger...there was danger...it was coming.
Laughter broke his thoughts and he found himself turning to peer quizzically at Gandalf. The Istari shook his head as he spoke. "Gandalf, you old fool... mellon!"
The writing on the mountainside inflamed as a seam that had not been apparent before split the intricate and ornate artistry into two doors. With grinding and a bit of shaking the doors opened inward, revealing an interior as dark and gloomy as Legolas remembered. Gimli stepped forward and came to stand beside Legolas as the Elf moved away from the tree. "So all you had to do was say 'friend', and enter?"
Gimli nodded. "Those were happier times."
"Everyone," Gandalf motioned with his staff. "Come."
Legolas hung back for an instant, a glance at the lake. Perhaps if they entered the mine, whatever was in the water would stay within its murky depths.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Remembering a small clearing she and her brothers had found in their younger years, Arwen traveled quickly through the forest to the very spot. The trees parted overhead and to her delight, she found the moon shown here through a small break in the clouds. There was only this opening and she believed the Valar were with her once again, allowing her light to see into the water.
Carefully, she set the bowl on the ground and settled down before it, arranging her thick, and heavy gown about her. With a deep breath, she blew upon the water and opened her eyes to peer deeply into it.
And there she saw the walls again. Only now she saw that the water was a lake, as dark and murky as any pool within the walls of Mordor could be. She saw the company about her, with the Dwarf being the closest. Gandalf moved into an opening in the mountain first.
Her view abruptly changed and she was now looking back at the water. She saw the rippling, sensed the approach of something. Danger was as thick as the mist over the water. When Estel came into her vision, she realized she saw as Legolas saw.
He was dirtied, and his eyes appeared tired. And though circles of fatigue hung beneath those beautiful gray eyes, he was well. Though his expression was one of concern as he approached her - or rather, Legolas.
"Mellon nîn? You are pale, and your glow is enhanced."
"I," Legolas voice surrounded her, and again it was as it had been before, when his fear had awakened her in the night. She was with him. Nay, she was within him. "I sense an echo, yet I do not know if it is from within me, or there."
The two of them looked back at the water, and Strider started toward the Lake. Arwen reacted in her own way, and she knew Legolas' hand had reached for him, catching him on the arm. He looked back at her/Legolas, and his eyes narrowed. Recognition flooded his expression and Arwen moved away from the mirror, but did not break her contact with the Elven Prince.
"Legolas?" Strider leaned toward him. "There is a familiar light in your eyes."
"Aragorn, Legolas," Pippin motioned to them as the Hobbits waited on the taller races. Boromir waited as well, his shield up, his hand on his hilt.
Gandalf motioned from the gates. "Aragorn! Let us hurry."
Arwen/Legolas looked back to Strider and nodded. "It is time we stepped inside of Moria." She felt the Prince's silent wail surround her and knew then where his fear had come from. He did not wish to go inside of the great mountain - no Elf would. How can Estel look upon his friend and not see his troubles?
"Legolas..."
But the Prince reached out and touched his friend's shoulder. In a small way, Arwen felt that she touched her love as well, and from that contact was flooded with emotion so overwhelming as to be caught in the tears that came to her eyes. He is aching - this I can feel. But I do not know what his thoughts are that bring such pain to his eye. He feels he had lost something precious. "We must go."
Estel nodded, turned away and Arwen saw again the lake through the Prince's eyes. Menacing voices as black as the billowing smoke of Mount Doom filled her thoughts as she gazed into that water. She put her hands to her ears as the cacophony threatened to push her from Legolas' thoughts. Can he not hear the evil? Can he not sense the beast that rests beneath the surface.
Legolas turned away from the lake and walked slowly behind the dwarf into the dark entrance of Moria.
It is coming...Legolas…do not turn away from the water!
TBC