A/N: Just some random conversations. Basically the biggest filler chapter known to mankind.
Perhaps out of habit or out of duty, the Authors and the Fellowship respected boundaries. They each had their own mission, their own quest, and their own personal thoughts. Moria changed all that. It could have been the oppressive silence, the odd, eerie, ghostly twitters of creatures skulking in the darkness, or the far-off dripping of some unseen water into an invisible stagnant pond. But later, when everything was finished and their scars – both physical and mental – were healing, they ultimately decided it was the narrowness of the path. It allowed only two to pass at a time, sometimes into gaspingly tight conclaves, other times up dizzyingly high stairs that required both hands and feet. So they paired off, their subconscious picking the partner they wanted the most. Michael, obviously to everyone by himself, chose Melody, and Daphne permitted Boromir to accompany her through the ghoulish mines. Frodo and Sam, naturally, went together, as did Merry and Pippin. Aragorn and Gandalf led the way, discussing things in low, serious whispers, while Gimli was stuck with the ever-logical Isabella. The Sues gathered into a twittering group, and nobody really cared what they did. Shonji, to his credit, did try his best to stay with the Fellowship, but Adavis kept him well ahead of the rest of them. Nobody quite knew where Tolkien went – he had an uncanny ability to appear one place while melting into the shadows in the next instant. For the most part he stayed by himself, although he seemed to favor Madison's and Daphne's company. So the first day of Moria was passed in quiet conversation, learning more about their partners as they continued up the uneven, jagged precipices and down rocky, unstable cliffs.
Daphne was learning things about Boromir that had never come across in the books or the movies. For one thing, he didn't say much; he just listened. Daphne had been talking for the past two hours nonstop about absolute ridiculous things, and then realized he hadn't said a word. However, there was a little smile underneath the scruff of his beard. Daphne paused, her mouth hanging open, as she replayed the last fifteen minutes of their conversation. To the best of her knowledge, she had been rattling her teeth about how much she hated liver and how much she liked corn on the cob. Boromir looked at her quizzically as they hauled themselves upwards on a particularly tricky bit of staircase. "Is something wrong, Lady Daphne?" he asked. Daphne shook her head and laughed a little.
"I just realized I'm talking about absolute nonsense," she laughed. "Are you getting any of this, or is this just going over your head?"
"I quite enjoyed your explanations of NASCAR," he admitted, "But I am not understanding most of it, you are quite correct. Do not stop, though," he added hastily. "I enjoy your ramblings."
"Well, you're the first then," Daphne said with a smile. She had on that curious smile of hers, the way it exposed her canines and made her whole face look slightly feral. It was when she was pleased or feeling particularly wicked, but she didn't smile it often. The Authors were much more acquainted with her smooth, wide smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. "My parents thought I was nuts," she added, her eyes going a little blank at the thought of them. She didn't look sad, just a little regretful.
"Your parents?" Boromir asked cautiously. He knew, better than she would have imagined, how difficult it was to have a family who was constantly at odds. Daphne didn't seem very chaffed to talk about her parents; actually, she was surprisingly receptive to the idea.
"Yeah. My parents were both in the military – both Marines, so you know how that is." She smiled, almost to herself. "Everything was very strict when I was a kid. Oh, I had an okay childhood – I got wicked fit, because my Dad used to use training regimes whenever my brother and I messed up. But when I got to college age, I don't know. Things changed. Mom wanted be to be something important, like a bank president or a governor or something, and Dad thought I should go to the military." She sighed, twisting her lips to the side. "I didn't go with either. I got sick of all the fighting. It's like they wanted to control my whole life. I couldn't stand it, so I just moved out."
"What did you want to do?" Boromir asked quietly. "Seeing as you didn't want to be a governor." He couldn't imagine a kind of family that wanted to push their daughter (their rather attractive daughter, he thought to himself) into the military. Wars were no place for women. Her father must have been worse than his own.
"Have a family," Daphne said seriously. "I always wanted to have kids, you know. Settle down, eventually." She laughed a little, a little bit of pushed air between the gap in her teeth. "I just never got around to it. I suppose it kept slipping my mind."
Boromir would have dived eagerly into this gap that she opened, wanted to see what she thought about families, but there was a burst of ringing laughter behind them. Daphne paused as she climbed, hunkering down on her haunches as she waited for Melody and Michael to pull themselves upwards. Melody was laughing about something – her face crinkled when she laughed, making her look less pretty and less conniving, but then it was gone as she listened to Michael with a little smile on her face. Daphne watched Boromir help them onto the path again, noticed unconsciously how gentle he was with Melody, despite her feminist attitude. She brushed aside these thoughts like brushing away a scattering of snow on a mitten.
Madison was having trouble keeping up with Legolas, but she was fascinated by the way he moved. Fluid and graceful, never pausing as he climbed, never breaking a sweat. Madison was relieved when they reached a leveling in the path, and for the first time, Legolas spoke. He had been watching her, watching her struggle gamely to keep up with him. She didn't complain – he was surprised at that. Little Maddie, as Daphne called her, had a lot more stamina to her than he had originally thought. But she was sweating and breathing rather hard, and he slowed his pace instantly. "Forgive me," he said, breaking the wall of silence that had welled up between them. "I have been going faster than I intended. I occasionally forget where I am."
"Back in Mirkwood, huh?" Madison asked, a queer twisted smile on her mouth. Legolas started slightly.
"Yes," he said slowly. "I try to imagine I am back in Mirkwood when I feel troubled. It is a restful place, when you grow up there."
Madison nodded once, that little smile hiding by the corner of her mouth. "Funny, because the way Tolkien described it, the place sounded pretty uncomfortable."
"You do not know Mirkwood," Legolas said instantly. "There is dark beauty, as well as light beauty. Mirkwood has both – the trees are dark, and the sunlight is shy, but together they make a beautiful creation." Much like you, Legolas thought unexpectedly. He was completely confused at the thought. Where had that come from? Something he had read, no doubt.
"I guess. It must be nice, living in a place like that." Madison said, sighing inwardly. She couldn't provoke the prince into a conversation no matter how she tried. She had never been good at talking to people, and even looking at Legolas was making her nervous. Legolas slanted his gaze at her, employing the Elvish trick of looking while not looking. Her frizzy hair was even frizzier in the heat of the mines, thick glasses settled on the bridge of her nose, shielding those remarkable eyes. She really did have striking eyes, he decided. They were the deepest cerulean, rimmed with a gauzy layer of ghostly silver at the pupils, fringed with beautiful dark lashes. But she kept them hidden behind large glasses, trying to hide her prettiest attribute. It was right then and there that he decided to be friends with her. That was the way he was – he made a conscious decision to make friends, and Madison looked as thought she needed one.
"So what is it like, where you come from?" he asked unexpectedly. Madison was a bit taken aback, and looked up at him briefly and than back down at her moving feet.
"Okay, I guess," she said. "It's noisy. Busy. I reside in the city, so everything is always moving. My Mom likes it, but I prefer solitude," she shrugged. "Mom and I differ in many ways. We...do not get along very well."
"Oh?" Legolas said, wondering how anyone could not get along with their own mother. It was like...not getting along with air. Or sunlight. He own mother had been the very picture of grace and elegance, sunbeams shaped into an angel which lived on earth. Madison, however, didn't have that high of an opinion of her mother.
"Yeah. My mom and dad had a divorce," she sighed. "I live with Mom, but I got along better with my dad."
Legolas decided they were polar opposites. He didn't get along with his father at all. But Madison continued. "He gave me that pyrite," she said ruefully, throwing a heated glance at Adavis, who was singing beautifully in her amazing voice. To her, it sounded like shattered glass scraping down a chalkboard. "I miss him."
For the second time in as many minutes, Legolas made another conscious decision. He would get back her pyrite. For a friend. And to maybe get a bit of the love she felt for her father, for himself. If he could learn to love his own father the way she loved hers...He banished all thoughts of his father before they upset him any further.
Isabella and Gimli were getting along surprisingly well. Neither were saying a word, other that Gimli's cursing and Isabella's murmurs. Once again she was reviewing her vocabulary in Elvish. She had established a fairly large lexicon, but it was miniscule in her mind. She cracked her knuckles, quickly, each slim digit curling and snapping. Gimli looked at her with distaste. "That'll hurt your fingers, lass," he warned.
"There's no proof of that," she retorted. "I've been able to do it since I was a small child. And since when do you care for my welfare?"
"We all care for your damn welfare," Gimli snapped. "Open your eyes, lass, and look 'round. You're on this bloody quest because we care about you. The only damned reason we didn't stick you back in Rivendell is because we care. Get it?"
"Oh, yes, because you all care so much for me," Isabella sneered. "I'll believe that when I see it."
"Everything's gotta be proven for you, doesn't it?" Gimli said, irritated. "Don't you believe in anything you can't feel or touch?"
"No," Isabella said instantly. "If I can't touch it, smell it, hear it, or feel it, it doesn't exist. It's that simple."
"And you can't feel love, can you? But it's as real as you are, unfortunately." Gimli snapped. Isabella rolled her eyes.
"You can see love," she explained, as one would to a four year old. "Look, right there." Before them, Daphne had just bumped Boromir playfully with her shoulder. She was small and stout, but she looked remarkably right next to him. She smirked. "Love exists. I can see it, feel it, know about it. People experience it every day."
"And you?" Gimli asked, interested for once. Isabella spat disgracefully on the ground.
"Not a chance. Love is for petty fools who can't see beyond their own feet. It clouds the senses and hampers the brain. No, I wish to keep my brain clear, thank you very much. And the day I fall in love will be the day I eat my own shoes." Isabella said coldly. "Love is fine for other people."
"There are different types of love, you whelp," Gimli said, almost laughing. Really, for all her smarts, the girl was an idiot. "What about your parents? Siblings? Friends? You love them, don't you?"
Isabella didn't answer. She didn't have to answer.
Because, at that moment, they all heard it.
The rumbling, way down in the bowels of the earth, the monotonous thumping.
They all heard the drums.
A/N: Be sure to check out my new Community, "The Little Red Binder Awards". Essentially, it's my favorite stories that I print out. Remember those things, printing machines? Wow, I feel so old fashioned now! I actually keep a binder (okay, maybe several binders) of my favorite stories. The best stories get printed out and put in there. The ones in that community are the ones that I print out. Preference is shown to higher content rating, of course; so if you see a nice romance that I might like, send me a PM! I might stick it in there!