Hey everyone, thanks for the reviews. Yay! Moria! Action!
I don't own or profit from Tolkien or Pratchett's work. Some dialogue from FOTR.
Moria was the first time Vimes felt he really understood the danger that they faced on the Quest. They weren't even there yet- he still wasn't sure exactly what, or where, Moria was, or why it was a bad place to be- but just the sound of the word, and the others' reactions to it, was enough to grip him with unease.
Hours later, when they stumbled past a rank-smelling pool and halted by massive stone walls, Vimes felt even more strongly that Moria was not a place he wanted to be. Gimli (who no longer seemed to regard Vimes as completely insane, but rather with the wary amusement given to an eccentric neighbour who takes his flowerpot for walkies) had been telling him that Moria was a kind of ancient dwarf stronghold, a city. Perhaps it was drawing close to a city again that had caused Vimes' policeman's instinct to stir slightly in the pit of his soul, and let Vimes know that now was a good time to be investigating a nice, safe pub on the other side of town.
But of course, dammit, that was not how the Watch did things any more...
Vimes suspected that Aragorn and Boromir regarded him as a man without honour. This was partly because he refused to smoke pipes, and partly because he'd demonstrated some of Nobby's street-fighting moves to the hobbits.(1) They were probably of a similar weight to Nobby, after all. Perhaps he shouldn't have shown them the Morris Dancers' Revenge. Aragorn had definitely disapproved of that one. Oh well. Too late now. He hoped Orcs weren't an endangered species. They soon would be, by the time their next generation came into existence- or didn't.
Oh well, the move wasn't fatal. And from what the others had said, the Orcs were pretty nasty.
Despite all evidence to the contrary, Vimes wasn't a man without honour, Right now though, staring at those immense cliffs, he really wished he was. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He'd been in dwarf mines before, even dwarf mines that had gone badly wrong, and he was scared now before he'd even set foot in there.
It was something about the dark... Not the dark of the night and of the streets, with which Vimes had made uneasy peace, but the dark of the mines, where night and day could not be distinguished, and things lurked, lurkishly.
He wanted to run away, and he didn't even know why. Gandalf muttered something and the clouds withdrew. The moonlight picked out shining runes on the stone's surface. Vimes wanted to run away even more.
The rest of the Fellowship seemed similarly struck, arrayed around Gandalf with expressions of fear or awe on their face, or in Gimli's case, misty-eyed anticipation. Actually, that wasn't true. Legolas was nodding happily at something he seemed to think a rock had just told him. Pippin was-
'Pippin!'
'Sorry,' said Pippin guiltily, over the splash of the pebble he'd just chucked in the pool. Vimes noticed Merry quickly dropping a stone of his own.
And that was the only distraction there was for quite some time. The expressions of awe and fear became muted as the night wore on, until eventually there was nothing but boredom in the faces of the Fellowship. They slouched on uncomfortable rocks and moaned behind Gandalf's back, while Sam unloaded Whatsisname the pony so he could have a rest, and Aragorn offered Vimes some tobacco because it still fascinated him that Vimes would only smoke cigars.
Elrond was immortal. He had survived terrible battles, seen Gil-Galad fall and Sauron half-destroyed, only to rise again. He'd faced loss, and fear, and conversed as a matter of habit with some of the wisest and most powerful beings still on Middle Earth. He had this trick with his eyebrows that was really impressive, even Glorfindel shut up when he used it. Yet talking to Vetinari... it left him with a strange mix of feelings, that he only experience rarely... what did it remind him of?
Ah, yes. Talking to his mother-in-law.
In fact, talking to either Vetinari or Galadriel almost reduced him to a state very similar to the half-forgotten occasion in his childhood when he'd had to explain to his parents how he'd set his twin on fire. He felt ashamed, small and intimidated all at once, a hot muddle of feelings that would have left him tongue-tied and flustered if he'd not had centuries' experience hiding his emotions and being dignified.
Yes, talking to Vetinari - Elrond flinched discretely - talking to Vetinari was intimidating.
Elrond wondered idly what would happen if Vetinari and Galadriel ever met face-to-face, and flinched again, even more discretely this time in case one of them could somehow see him.
He had an appointment to discuss the Quest with Vetinari in a few minute's time, and Vetinari would not be exactly pleased that Elrond had lost track of where the Fellowship was. It wasn't his fault they'd got covered with snow up Caradhras! Only a fool like Gandalf would have led them up there in midwinter.
Elrond wondered exactly how far he could push the old 'they-have-passed-into-darkness-and-shadow-hides-my-sight...' routine. Not very far, he decided.
At least, he reflected, the Fellowship would have no reason to enter Lothlorien... Vetinari's look of mild surprise was bad enough, but facing Galadriel's 'understanding voice' as well... (2) that would be immortally unfair.
For these reasons, Elrond's psychic nerves were frayed when Vetinari finally made contact, a careful three minutes late.
'My Lord Vetinari,' Elrond inclined his head gracefully. 'I trust Ankh-Morpork and your terrier are both well?'
'To which terrier do you refer?' Vimes said, allowing himself a small smile. 'Wuffles continues well. I had, however, thought to ask you whether Vimes was well. ' He paused, and considered Elrond thoughtfully. 'Of course, if you don't know how Vimes is getting on...'
And almost before he knew it, Elrond was stumbling over sentences in his haste to fill Vetinari in on everything he knew, and did not know, about the quest.
When he had finished, Vetinari remained silent, and Elrond realised he hadn't finished after all.
'Vetinari, do you think it is altogether wise to continue using a palantir to communicate?' Elrond was questioning Vetinari more out of a need to fill the terrible silence rather than a conscious death-wish, but it rather amounted to the same thing.
"There are rumours that certain of the Seeing Stones may be under the control of the Dark Lord...'
'I am aware,' Vetinari said coolly.
'But-'
'Don't let me detain you, my Lord Elrond.' Elrond heard him call 'enter' to someone out of his line of sight, and Vetinari's next interviewee entered his study. A portly man from the Guild of Butchers and Sweetmeats began giving Vetinari an extremely boring report of taxes gathered on imported sausage skins, and Elrond ended the connection, as usual, in a haze of embarrassment, relief and annoyance.
Vimes fell into a half-doze, which was a policeman's trick, and was woken by a creaking, grinding sound He sprang from sleep to upright-and-fighting and lashed out with a fist, accidentally hitting Whatsisname. 'Sorry,' said Vimes, blinking, 'Was still asleep', then realised he was talking to a pony. The pony whickered (3) reproachfully, and galloped suddenly away from the walls, back the way the Fellowship had come.
Sam cried out in distress and leapt for the reins, but missed. Aragorn stopped him from going any further. 'Vimes is right, Sam,' he said gently. 'The mines are no place for a pony.'
'Bill!' Sam wailed. Oh, that's what his name was, Vimes thought, through his guilt.
'Sorry, Sam- it was an accident- ' Vimes said. Sam sniffed, then managed a shrug to tell Vimes he was OK, but Vimes could see tear tracks on the hobbit's grimy face.
Aragorn turned to Vimes majestically. Vimes braced himself for a lecture, but all Aragorn said was 'I know you did that while Sam wasn't looking because you thought it would be too painful for him, but I think you should have given him time to say goodbye. These hobbits are made of sterner stuff then you think.'
'I know,' said Vimes, surprised that Aragorn had noticed too. 'Sorry. Fancy a cigar?'
'No time!' said Aragorn in his urgent tone. For a second Vimes thought something terrible was happening, but then he saw the rest of the Fellowship had finished gathering their packs and were cautiously stepping through the huge doorways that had somehow opened into the rock. 'We have to get going.'
'Yes, it is a four-day journey to the other side,' Gandalf called from within.
'Oh good,' said Vimes. And then something terrible happened.
Shortly after their conversation, a malevolent eye appeared in the Palantir that Vetinari kept in his study. It blazed furiously, filling the glass orb with crimson flames that surrounded a cat's eye pupil, as dark as the flames around it were bright. Vetinari looked at it politely until it went away.
(1) All right, Nobby's folk dancing moves. But they were far more lethal in street fights.
(2) "I am not angry, Elrond, merely sorrowful...Sorrowful that you have brought about the downfall of Lorien and indirectly let evil enter my woods... I don't blame you, not at all," and so on...
(3)Or one of those horsey sounds