Author's Note: Hellooo again, thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! What is your opinion? Could chocolate have existed during our favourite hobbit's lifetimes? I suppose it could have, but if anyone has any idea about the likelihood, it would be much appreciated. BTW, the text in bold is has been more or less translated from Tolkien: FOTR, 'A journey in the dark'. I simply changed it to present tense. (OMG, hoowww coool is the 'hobbit fossil' they found?!)
I do not own Tolkien or any of the following names or places.
Azla: Yea, this was supposed to be a Legolas/Pippin chapter, and I changed my mind at the last minute. :) That idea about Pippin's incoherent words is a possibility at the moment, a good idea. Thanks for your review!
Immortal Sorrow (Arrow): Thanks for brightening my day with your review! Thank you for the kind words, and btw, your poem was beautiful. :) Namaarie!
Ice Ember: LOL, neither do I! I'm glad you're enjoying this (how many times do I say that, lol) and thank you for your review.
Gods-girl2004: LOL, hello again, and hello to the Pippin plushie! So glad you liked it. Thanks for the review.
Arlewen: I'm happy that this was your favourite, I wasn't sure whether or not to do an angsty sorta chapter. Ooh man, I hate slash too. It's disgusting. LOL, actually, what you said about Lothlorien is exactly what I had planned to do. Maybe I'll go ahead with it then. Thanks for your review!
Hai Took: Merry is a dear, isn't he? :) I suppose I could let his voice-less-ness drag on for a while longer, I'm just trying to work out the story line. LOL, thanks for your review!
The essence of popsicles: Hannon le, o wonderful reviewer! Lol. Tell me about it: why can't Aragorn have a less complicated history, and elves are terribly hard to write! For me at least. Thanks for your kind review :)
Sunn-kissed: I've been having that problem too, it's terribly confusing. Lol, I'm very glad there was nothing wrong with the chapter, I worried about it. Thanks for your review!
Pipinheart: Thank you for the kind review! Don't worry I'll look after Pippin :)
Chapter Eight: Moria
Legolas
A small hand tugs at my cloak, and I turn, looking down expectantly into Peregrin's young face. Pale in the cool night air, and miserable, yet at least his bright eyes are sparkling, as always. He has wrapped his own cloak tight about his shoulders, shivering. He has grown tired of waiting for Mithrandir to find the right words to open the doors, and no doubt nervous of the dark, rippling waters.
"Good evening, Peregrin." I say quietly, offering a smile. Pippin affects a quick grin of his own, but it is not very convincing. Sighing, he untangles his other hand from the warmth of his jacket, and shakes it wearily.
It's too cold to be a good evening, Legolas. I chuckle.
Now, Master Took, that's not like you. He shrugs, nodding, glancing around blankly.
I know Gandalf will find a way to open the doors soon, but it's so cold out here... and somehow it doesn't feel safe. Gesturing to the stone at my side, I invite him to sit. He accepts with a smile, sitting close to share some of my warmth.
You're as safe as you can be out here, Pippin, with Aragorn and Gandalf nearby.
And yourself. he adds, glancing at my bow with a somewhat happier expression. In fact, suddenly he grins, and straightens on his seat.
I don't suppose you'd consider a swap, Legolas? My sword for your bow? It makes sense, really: I'm the shortest here, so I would be better at fighting from a distance, than actually fighting close up. I shake my head with a sigh.
I shall have to kill Aragorn for this, Pippin. There is no way you are going to handle a bow of any kind. At least, now while I am nearby. Or anybody else, for that matter. Pippin folds his arms to place his hands on his hips in a challenge.
I'll have you know that I am quite talented at using my slingshot, and have good aim. Where is the difference?
A pebble will do no real damage, Pippin. An arrow could skewer your cousin down the middle, with enough force left over to run through a tree. Besides, a slingshot and a bow are two different things. I allow a brief smirk here. And I have seen you with your slingshot: I doubt very much that you could hit any target, even one so large as a dwarf.
Pippin scrambles to his feet, the light of battle in his eyes, grinning wildly.
Do you want to bet on it, Legolas? Half a meal from the loser's plate goes to the victor.
I do not pretend to be even slightly surprised. Years of living with two elder cousins and three older sisters have turned Pippin into quite the competitive young hobbit.
Deal. Go on: from this distance you won't even make it half way. I tease, confident that I am right. Not that I would be greatly pained if the dwarf was to be hit, but no doubt Aragorn or Gandalf would have words for me. Besides, Pippin's little stone won't do much damage, should it strike.
Pippin crouches down, and pulls out his weapon quietly.
Anywhere on Gimli? He asks clumsily, balancing the sling carefully.
As long as it hits him... although, perhaps if you didn't aim for his head. Pippin grins, knowing full well that I shall be the one who is in trouble should the stone take out one of the dwarf's eyes.
He sinks down lithely, holding out his sling and squinting ahead at his target. Gimli is presently strolling proudly about the camp, barking something proudly at the rather frustrated wizard. Suddenly he pauses, stooping to rearrange something from his pack.
It happens so fast I barely register it. Pippin's stone flings away, and quick as lightning, the sling has vanished, buried beneath Pippin's cloak.
Gimli lets out a roar of shock and infuriation, leaping up and spinning around, staring about wildly as he clutches at his backside. This in itself is enough to send Pippin into spasms of silent laughter, leaving me to struggle with my own amusement and feign innocence.
Unfortunately, Aragorn has seen Pippin's sling, and fixes me with a cold, exasperated stare. Gimli notices, and storms over, nearly trampling over a somewhat stunned Frodo and Merry.
Before the dwarf gets too close, Gandalf whirls and silences everyone with a single, spoken demand: "Quiet!"
Gimli turns back to him and begins to protest furiously, but his anger cannot rival Mithrandir's.
"Silence, all of you. Peregrin Took: I have not the patience to deal with you now. Bring me that ridiculous sling and apologize to Gimli. Master elf, I would like to speak to you."
Pippin's laughter has ceased, noting Gandalf's angry tone, and he stands somewhat meekly to make his way down to the wizard. Gandalf snatches the sling away and mutters something in a low voice, enough to make Pippin flush a dark shade of red.
Properly chastised, Peregrin shuffles over to Gimli, and apologizes profusely. The dwarf forgives him immediately, choosing instead to glare at me from across the camp. Perhaps he is not as dense as I once imagined.
Gandalf does not look up as I arrive at his side, he continues to stare at the stone wall.
"Granted, you have issues with Gimli, Legolas, but I beg of you: forget them, if only for a few hours. Now is not the time. Once we are out of these accursed mines again, I couldn't care less. And don't drag Pippin into your feud. That will not end well."
"My apologies, Mithrandir. Perhaps I was carried away. Actually, I was more than happy to see Pippin eager to have some fun. I don't ever recall his face shining so." Gandalf shoots me a quick look, his face softening slightly.
"I recall such a time, Legolas. I know what you meant to do, but you know as well as I that Gimli did not have to be included." I bob my head in acknowledgment, and affect a contrite expression. Gandalf sighs, and turns back to the wall.
With a grim smile, I find another boulder and sit lightly; ignoring the sharp look Aragorn is giving me. Evidentially, Frodo and Merry have decided to stay out of this, because they have moved off to sit with Sam, pointedly not watching the discussion between Pippin and Gimli.
I stretch casually and listen intently, laughing almost at what I hear.
"What do you mean, 'get him back'?" Gimli is asking, struggling to lower his voice. I wait for Pippin to reply, smirking at the dwarf's growing agitation.
"No, Master hobbit, I couldn't... imagine sinking to that level of..." Somehow Pippin has managed to convince him, because out of the corner of my eye, I spot Gimli accept the sling, and regard it carefully in his hands.
I am in the way: Gandalf cannot see the dwarf from behind me, and I notice Aragorn and Boromir have looked away, wincing. I cannot help a smile.
Pippin is hastily signing instructions, as I can hear the soft ruffle of his shirtsleeves. Gimli harrumphs after a while, and he shuffles about, supposedly trying to get the aim right. There is only a faint noise, as he stretches the cord back, and fits it with a large pebble.
I tense, and not a moment too soon, jump lightly out of the way. Turning around, victorious, I am surprised to see a look of pure terror on the faces of Peregrin and Gimli.
"You missed me, dwarf." I say with a grin. "There is nothing to fear from me: I will forgive you this once."
"Aye, but I won't." growled a deep voice from behind me.
Well, Legolas, that was fun. signed Pippin timidly. I laugh softly and ruffle his hair.
Could have been worse, my friend. Gimli could have struck Gandalf in the backside, instead of his shoulder. Pippin chuckles a little at the imagery.
Remind me never to go along with any of your challenges again. He replies with a sigh. I lean down to rummage through my pack, producing a small vial.
Never? Now that would make this a huge waste of time. Smiling, Pippin accepts the tonic, and takes the usual mouthful. He makes a face at the taste, but is no doubt used to far worse medicines. Sam happily told stories of chasing a young Pippin through Hobbiton when it came time to give him a cough mixture.
What exactly does this do, Legolas? asks Pippin, brandishing the medicine. I take it back, regarding the vial briefly before repacking it.
Lord Elrond gave it to me, before we left Rivendell. He thinks it will help you, by coating the insides of your throat for a time. Thus it will make the exercises easier and less painful. He also says it has healing properties: it may help your voice to return, somewhere down the line.
Pippin coughs a little, and looks up at me wearily.
I suppose that means we are about to try again? I shrug, smiling gently.
There is not much else to do, little one.
Pippin nods, and turns to face me, sitting cross-legged on the stone ground.
Begin, O wise one.
Very well, O short one. Clear your throat... and make the 'e' sound, as in tree. Pippin opens his mouth and obeys; not making an audible sound, but the correct formation with his lips and throat. Slowly and carefully, we go through each of the vowels, and some other long notes. If Pippin signs pain, we break and start again after a few moments.
This feels so strange. He signs during one such break.
How so?
I don't know, I just... haven't actually tried to speak like this in such a long time. A few years, at least. He lowers his gaze slightly. When it first happened, I did it quite a lot, mostly by accident. When I first woke up, sometimes... I forgot..." He sighs, turning back to me with a hasty smile.
I know this is hard for you, Pippin, but in the end I think it will be good for you. Would it not be wonderful to surprise your cousins with a word? I for one, would greatly love to hear your voice.
I am not resentful, Legolas. he says quickly. I think it is wonderful that you are so willing to help me. The idea of talking again is... more than I have ever dreamed of, it's just a little surreal.
Try and say that: surreal. Pippin grins and obliges, making a face as his mouth tries to form the word.
I feel quite the fool, Legolas. You try this sometime. I mouth an unflattering word, and he scowls, ignoring my soft laughter. Have it your way, then. he says with an ever-suffering sigh.
Just go through the alphabet, and then you can rest, Pippin. I say, not failing to notice the dark rings under his eyes. None of us have had much rest of late, and I fear that will not be improved in Moria. Pippin nods and begins, and I watch closely, encouraged by his progress. Not only that, but his changing attitude to these exercises. He has always been eager, but a little embarrassed too. He is getting used to the idea now.
W, x, y, z. he signs unconsciously, as he finishes. I smile, and reach forwards to give him a brief hug.
You are doing well, my friend. I am very proud of you. Pippin beams up at me, and scrambles to his feet.
I do believe it's time to eat, master elf.
I stand also, gazing over towards Gandalf. As if on cue, the wizard springs to his feet. He is laughing! "I have it!" he cries. "Of course, of course! Absurdly simple, like most riddles when you see the answer."
Picking up his staff he stands before the rock and says in a clear voice: Mellon!
The star shines out briefly and fades again. Then silently a great doorway is outlined, though not a crack or joint had been visible before. Slowly it divides in the middle and swings outward inch-by-inch, until both doors lay back against the wall. Through the opening a shadowy stair can be seen climbing steeply up; but beyond the lower steps the darkness is deeper than the night. The company all stare in wonder. Besides me, Pippin is gaping.
"I was wrong after all," says Gandalf. "And Gimli too. Merry, of all people, was on the right track. The opening word was inscribed on the archway all the time! The translation should have been: Say "Friend" and enter. I had only to speak the Elvish word for friend and the doors opened. Quite simple. Too simple for a learned lore-master in these suspicious days. Those were happier times. Now let us go."
Hear, hear. sighs Pippin, looking uneasily towards Frodo and the water. I clamp a hand upon his shoulder and guide him forwards, smiling grimly.
Suddenly, several things happen at once. Frodo lets out a surprised cry, and my head whips around in his direction. A long, sinuous tentacle has crawled from the water, and attached itself to Frodo's ankle. Bill the pony screams in fear, and bolts past me, nearly running me down. He disappears off into the darkness, but already I have forgotten him.
Sam has run to Frodo's side, and is slashing at it with a knife as he weeps for Bill. Suddenly, Sam manages to free his master, and they sprawl on the ground, panting. Even as I grab Pippin's shoulder and run, twenty more arms come rippling out of the dark, horrid water.
"Into the gateway! Up the stairs! Quick!" cries Gandalf.
Everyone starts to move, and I push Pippin forward swiftly. He stumbles down the rock, startled out of his stupor, and we rush along after the others.
Finally as we make it inside, and up the stairs, many coiling arms seize the doors on either side, and with horrible strength, swing them around. With a shattering echo they slam shut, and all light is lost.
Eventually, all that can be heard is the heavy breathing of our company.
"Is anyone hurt?" Boromir asks softly, looking around through squinted eyes. There are a few murmured ascents, and Frodo and Merry ask as one about Pippin. I feel the young hobbit tug on my sleeve lightly, and I reassure them.
Sam, clinging to Frodo's arm, suddenly collapses on a step. I can just make out his trembling figure. "Poor old Bill!" he chokes. "Poor old Bill! Wolves and snakes! But the snakes were too much for him. I had to choose, Mr Frodo. I had to come with you."
Frodo pats his shoulder in silence, too shaken yet to speak much.
"Well," says Merry quietly. "I suppose that is that."
TBC, please r&r
