A/N: Last time we were together, the Fellowship was attacked by wargs. Frodo believed he saw Arnen cast a spell to save her life (which she did). And we found out that Frodo has seen Arnen before Rivendell, even though it was a complete accident, but, once again, he is unsure. Alrighty then…
That Which Darkness Reveals
"Holly trees? Here? With this terrible water I am surprised to see any plant that would wish to take root here."
Arnen gazed at the strong sentries standing before the Walls of Moria. They towered above her head, majestic and undoubtedly flourishing. Their water did not come from that of the dammed valley; they would have been poisoned years ago. She lightly stepped to them and placed a hand on the bark. Grazing her fingers lovingly down their trunks she admired their resilience against the harsh world. They not only held onto life, but they demanded it from their surroundings.
'Will you reveal to me your secret? How can you…after all of this time?' she thought, willing herself not to cry from sheer exhaustion. With the Grey Company her spirits would be higher at a time like this; but she wasn't with the Grey Company, she had to keep reminding herself. Those she was with were a dreary lot. In their eyes she could see the need for rest and hope. One obstacle after another had washed away more and more of their strength. Gimli's surety that there would be meals and warm beds for all on the other side of the Wall was just shrugged off.
"Well, here we are at last!" said Gandalf. "Here the Elven-way from Hollin ended. Holly was the token of the people of the land, and they planted it to mark the end of their domain; for the West-door was made chiefly for the use of their traffic with the Lords of Moria. Those were happier days, when there was still close friendship at times between folks of different race, even between Dwarves and Elves."
Gandalf cast a glance in the direction of Arnen who was smirking at his last hinting comment.
"It was not the fault of the Dwarves that the friendship waned," Gimli snorted.
"I have not heard that it was the fault of the Elves," Legolas came back with a curt reply.
"I have heard both," said Gandalf. "But I beg you two, Legolas and Gimli, at least to be friends, and to help me. I need you both. The doors are shut and hidden, and the sooner we find them the better. Night is at hand!"
When the old wizard gave instructions for them to unload Bill, Sam nearly threw himself into the water with all of the fuss he caused. Gandalf finally comforted the hobbit enough that he sat by a bit, sulking as they sorted through the packs he had taken from the pony's back.
"Arnen," Boromir spoke gently, knowing her oncoming response to the rest of his sentence, "you need not carry so much."
"And you, Boromir, should not tell me what I need and need not do."
The woman heard a clearing of a throat and saw Aragorn's eyebrows rise. She peaked her own then returned to gathering all the objects she would bear in her pack. Lifting it onto her shoulders to test the weight, Arnen forced down a hiss at the stinging in her back. Two hands slid the straps from her arms. Turning, she watched as Legolas removed items from her pack. With a sigh, she tried to retrieve it when Merry stepped in her way.
"Ya' need to listen to someone besides Gandalf about what ya' need to do. Now, you need to sit down, and help Sam sort through his pack since he is so melancholy he cannot see through the mist in his eyes."
Arnen smiled warmly at her hobbit companion and did as he said. With gentle prodding and as merry conversation as could be mustered, she not only helped Sam strap of the last of his pots and made the mist leave his eyes. She blocked out the voice of Gandalf and the others, trying to focus on Sam.
"Samwise Gamgee," she said, looking into the hobbits brown eyes, "you have such a large heart. At times I watch you with Frodo and wish that I was capable of facing the many trials that you can."
"I do not know what you are talking about. That sword of yours is amazing; you do not have to worry for anything because you know how to use it right enough," he muttered shyly.
"No, Sam, there is more to fighting than just with weapons. You have something very rare that is the hardest trait to find in any one person."
The hobbit searched her silver-gold orbs, hungry for her next words.
Crack!
The two broke their conversation abruptly. The doors were opening! Arnen gawked at the simmering design outlining the door. The anvil and hammer, the stars, the trees bearing crescents, they all tugged at her eyes with their mystique.
"I had only to speak Elvish word for friend," chuckled Gandalf, "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!"
Arnen shouldered her lightened pack. One step into through the doorway and she could feel that something was not right. The air was stale, as that of a home left abandoned and locked up for many years. Her eyes could not accustom to the darkness and a growing sense of unease snaked through her stomach as she listened to Gimli brag of his cousin's home and hospitality. Arnen stumbled in the darkness and fell onto a pile blocking her path. At that same moment Gandalf placed a crystal into his staff and lit the space in which they stood.
"This is no mine," said Boromir, "it is a tomb."
Scrambling to her feet, Arnen tried to get stay away from the pile of skeletons she had fallen atop. Her heartbeat threatened to drown out the sound of Gimli's cries of despair. Deep breaths cause her to grow faint, and if it weren't for Frodo's screams she would have collapsed into a heap. Swallowing her nausea, Arnen ran turned back toward the doorway only pausing briefly when she saw the vast monster in the water. A face, hideous beyond compare emerged: fishlike eyes, unblinking and glassy, a mouth that unfolded to extend its reach, yellowing teeth like the tusks of the fabled oliphaunt, and gills that flapped open and shut. Its many tentacles writhed in the churning murkiness, and Frodo was dangling in one of them.
Gandalf reached out and grabbed Arnen by the cloak before she could run out. She tried to push him off and go again, but the wizard held fast.
"Gandalf!" she shouted angrily.
"We do not want another event like the wolves, now do we? You were not too discreet then. I do not believe this will be different," he whispered fiercely in her ear.
She stumbled back in shock.
"That is right. I did not see you though, for if I had you would have heard from me sooner. Instead, Frodo saw that wolf burst into flame. Be warned, if it happens again he may not believe my lie." Gandalf's eyes almost burned with light as he finished scolding.
"Into the mines!" he shouted to the others. Boromir carried Frodo in while the Aragorn and Legolas fend off more attacks while trying to save their own lives. Slimy grey tentacles reached in after them and pulled on the stone of the doorway. With a rumble and a shaking the fellowship was thrown into darkness.
"Merry?" whispered Pip.
"What?"
"I'm hungry."
Arnen would have laughed if she was not so uncomfortable. They had walked for miles, jumping over gaps in the path, climbing unduly steep stairwells, and edging across slithers of road, guided by Gandalf and Gimli. Her back was stiff from having her share of falls. At one point in their climbs she would have fallen down the steps if Legolas had not caught her hand. She lost the last of her Helwa in the process, but it was not something she would toss and turn over.
Legolas's eyes watched as Arnen pulled her knees to her chest and shivered. Feeling the urge to check on her he nearly stood up, but reminded himself that Aragorn had already made sure she was well. But looking at her face, he could tell that its usual lightness was carved by lines of worry on her forehead. Her lips curled into a grimace instead of the slight smile that he had become accustomed to. When that one ebony lock fell into her eyes she did not brush it away like she usually would. He noticed that she was rubbing the scar above her eyebrow: a sign of uneasiness.
Slowly, Legolas crept to where she sat in a ball.
"Arnen?"
"Yes, Legolas."
"You look sick. Are you alright?"
"Do you want the truth, or the pleasant lie?"
Legolas grinned, "I would rather have the truth, please."
Arnen pulled Legolas in and cupped her hands around his ear. When she finished he couldn't help but chuckle. Arnen pushed the elf's arm, unsuccessfully trying to knock him over. In her frustration she threw herself at him and wrestled to overpower him. The prince quickly overturned her. Arnen found her abdomen beneath Legolas's arm and both his hands pinning her arms to her sides. He let her go when he heard Aragorn whisper a warning, "Legolas…"
The elf straightened up and said, "Forgive me for laughing, Arnen, but there really is no reason to be afraid of skeletons."
"Lower your voice. If Aragorn hears you he will torture me about it to no end. Besides, I am not afraid of skeletons. I just do not care for the unburied dead."
Legolas did not see much of a difference, but decided not to argue with her. "Why?"
"When one passes on, those you love place you in the ground. Seeing someone unburied causes me to think of battles where I have seen entire families killed. There are no loved ones left to bury the dead," Arnen finished with a shaky whimper.
Legolas watched as tears trickled down her cheeks. He could not remember seeing her cry. Reaching out, he swiped his thumb across her skin and hindered the flow. When she leaned into his touch Legolas gently wrapped his arms around her and allowed her to cry into his shoulder.
"The dark likes to reveal a lot about a person doesn't it?" she laughed into his soaked shirt once the tears stopped.
Arnen was unaware of the tender gaze Legolas gave her, of which he was very happy. Smiling into the side of her hair he whispered, "Indeed it does."
Pulling her back so he could wipe her cheeks, Legolas grinned.
"So, you do have a weakness. If this is so then there must be more secrets hidden inside of you."
"Many, in fact. Hopefully, I will be able to conceal them so well no one will know any of my secrets."
"I accept your challenge then."
Arnen blinked, confused. "What challenge?"
"I plan on knowing your secrets. We will start the mark of the ending of your secrets today, January, 13, 3019, and we will go back to the day that I met you, April 12, 2995. This day next year, January 13, 3020, I will know all but ten of your secrets. It will be impossible to know every one of them."
"Careful, Elf, you do not know what you are getting yourself into. It is a dangerous business, trying to learn the secrets of anyone, especially a woman's. "
"If I win I may ask for anything from you that I want, within propriety and reason."
"And if you do not succeed?"
"Then, you may ask for anything from me, within reason, and it will be yours."
"Legolas?" Arnen yawned, crawling onto her bedroll, finally feeling at ease.
"Yes, Arnen."
"Go talk to Gandalf, he is trying to isolate himself again when he knows he likes people almost as old as he is around when he thinks. I am trying to sleep; he is not."
"Sleep well, Arnen."
"Arnen. Arnen. Arnen, child, wake up," a voice like a gurgling spring called.
Arnen opened her eyes and saw before her a man standing amid the gloom of the mine. She shut her eyes again and opened them once more. He still stood before her. His raiment was silver like moonlight. Hair as black as midnight was held by a leather string at the base of his neck. He was tall, much taller than even Gandalf, and his stance was as strong yet as gentle as E-ngaladh, her tree of refuge, in a windstorm. His eyes were pools of the deepest sapphire.
His hand was extended and Arnen found that she placed her tan palm into his creamy one. The man helped her stand. Arnen wondered why she still had not cried out for Gandalf or Legolas. She could see them talking near the three passages. And yet she did not want to cry out, though she was perplexed by the fact that the two obviously didn't know a stranger was in their midst.
Behind the man Arnen could see a light shining. Slowly, he backed through it, drawing her in with him. A tingling sensation engulfed her body and then it was over. She squinted through the intensity of a light and saw that she was standing in a lush field with an open, clear sky. Mountains towered in the distance. She and the stranger stood by a river, large and clean. Arnen wondered at how she still had not felt any fear.
"Hello, child," the stranger said. "My name is Irmo. The time has come for you to know something very important."
OK. By the way, Irmo is one of the Valar. He is the master of visions and dreams.