AN: I'm sorry its been so long! Please don't hunt me down and kill me - take this chapter instead!
At Death's Door
Find him, something urged. It struck her out of her reverie. What? Are you crazy?! Haven't you even thought about the fit he could throw? What happens when he rejects us? We'll look like fools, and wreck your friendship – something you find hard to come by. Rosalie ignored the reasonable little voice in her head: her heart had taken control. It dragged her back into the maze, making her twist and turn and burst through people. It made her not care for the whispers or shocked looks behind her, only the promise of freedom when she reached her destination.
She sped around a corner, skidding to a stop, and Aragorn looked up, raising an eyebrow. The girl frowned at him, glancing over Brego. His saddlebags had been packed, along with the ranger's back tied to the back of it. Rosalie opened and shut her mouth. "Are you leaving?" She whispered, question cracking. It was painful to think about Aragorn not being there for them. He was her friend, he had to be there. The ranger's pained expression was all the answer she needed.
Someone cleared their throat behind her, and the girl jumped. The someone chuckled, and Rosalie rolled her eyes, recognising it. Gimli and Legolas stood behind her, the smaller looking up at her with a grin. He then peered around her at the ranger, while the girl peered past him at the elf. Do it, just do it, you have to. Everything inside her urged her to do it, but it was like her mouth was filled with cement. Instead it meant she stared at him, bug-eyed, without saying anything. He looked at her weirdly. Urgh, just look away! She hastily cast her eyes to the thing closest to Legolas – which happened to be his horse, Arod. The dappled pony whickered, his tail flittering uncertainly, but didn't move too much. He was also saddled.
"Just where do you think you're off to?" Gimli asked, and Rosalie panicked suddenly, stiffening before realising it was directed at Aragorn. I thought for a moment he knew… No, he doesn't, he couldn't, and none of them can.
Aragorn scratched his head. "Not this time," the ranger murmured. "This time you must stay Gimli." Gently, Legolas laughed.
"Have you learnt nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?" He asked, and the girl's eyes widened. Wait, if they're all packed, and I'm not… She gasped, and three pairs of eyes turned to her.
"Gimme five minutes, if you leave without me Aragorn I will hunt you down and I promise you the most painful experience of your life." Rosalie promised, and his eyes widened fractionally. Behind the woman, both the elf and the dwarf were shaking their heads at him, the threat shaking them as well.
Gimli was the first to recover. "Might as well accept it, we're going with you laddie." He chuckled, but quietened as the girl ran past. They stared after her. "Give it a few months, she might actually scare someone." They nodded slowly, still staring after her.
It was closer to ten minutes when the girl made it back, pushing her way through a few burly Rohan soldiers who had come to see what the commotion the Fellowship quartet had caused. Éomer was looking at them disapprovingly, more when Rosalie appeared, throwing her bag onto Brego, swinging herself up behind Aragorn. After a quick nod, the ranger touched the horse's sides, pushing it into motion, though the horse seemed hesitant to travel down the path. Rosalie couldn't blame it, and shivered, drawing her shoulders in, hunching over behind Aragorn.
The pathway was every bit as ominous as she had thought it would be. Huge cliffs closed in on them from all sides, dark shadows always resting on them. The temperature would drop with every step deeper into the twisting blackness, making the horses, the ranger, the dwarf and the girl shiver. Only Legolas didn't, though his back was as straight as a pole, eyes darting wildly with every noise. Rosalie glanced at him often, biting her lip nervously, not enjoying the creeping ice inside her stomach or the hairs and goose pimples rising all over her body. Even happy thoughts couldn't save her now.
The horses grew more nervous with each new turn in the trail, and Rosalie could feel Brego trembling underneath her. Arod didn't look any better. Suddenly, light burst in front of them, as well as four new choices to take. Aragorn pulled Brego gently to a halt, staring down each road cautiously. Rosalie didn't blame him; pick the wrong one and they'd have a better chance killing Sauron by throwing pebbles at him. Unconsciously, her green eyes wandered over to the horse next to her, thrown by a pair of blue ones boring back into hers. She flushed ungracefully, snapping back to attention.
After a few minutes, the ranger touched Brego's sides, and then frowned down at the horse as it refused to move, timid, frightful eyes set down the middle path. Aragorn touched his sides again, digging in slightly deeper, and the horse whinnied a pitiful whine, reluctantly ambling along the chosen path, the dappled white stallion following dutifully after a few persuasions from the elf. Cold air rushed past them painfully, screaming in their ears, dragging its nails through their hair and across their faces. Vines and stolons clutched at the rocks, climbing towards a freedom they could never reach. Pale sand replaced the dirt and gravel beneath the horses hooves, flung into the air by harsh currents dragged down from the skies into the stone maze the group had found themselves in.
Rosalie gulped; hiding her face in her hair, pushing it into the ranger's back, letting the man suffer as her shield from everything in here. While she couldn't see his face, she felt he wasn't too impressed, but the girl couldn't find it within herself to care. Every instinct and advice from horror movies screamed at her to leave, just run back the way they came, to abandon the rest for a chance at her own survival. No... They're my friends, I won't leave them, I can't. She thought vehemently. Plus, my conscious wouldn't allow it. Neither would the Hobbits, Gandalf or Éowyn. God imagine having to tell them... She shuddered from the thought, causing Aragorn to turn his head, looking back at her questioningly.
Brego's shakes became worse and worse, ears flattened to his skull, his tail swishing swiftly, catching on the saddle straps every few seconds, and sometimes Rosalie. Arod started to whimper, and Legolas leaned forward, stroking his silvery mane, whispering Elvish comforts in its ear. Rosalie slumped, wishing he would do the same for her. Knock it off, be serious.
Aragorn tilted forward in the saddle, peering at something ahead of them. "I see it," he mumbled to himself before raising his voice. "I see it!" He shouted, and underneath, Brego quaked and dragged his hooves.
Rosalie could see it too. A dead end, with a small dark gap and whispered echoes inside her head, too quiet to hear the words, but loud enough to send fear trickling down her spine. Gimli cleared his throat, muttering something about sitting on the saddle for too long.
The ranger pulled Brego to a stop, sliding off him easily, standing in front of the horse, putting space between it and the strange stone doorway. Brego shied away from it, and Rosalie wanted to do the same, but instead jumped down, stumbling slightly before standing by the ranger's side. Legolas and Gimli did the same, marvelling the doorway from a little further away. The girl could hear Gimli gulp, shifting his weight, chainmail clinking in the silence.
"What kind of army would linger here?" He whispered hoarsely, and Rosalie stiffened. Legolas answered.
"One that is cursed." Well this can only end horribly, she thought, panicking at the elf's words. "Long ago, the men of the mountain swore an oath to the last king of Gondor to come to his aid to fight. But, when the time came, when Gondor's need was dire, they fled, vanishing into the darkness of the mountain. And so, Isildur cursed them never to rest until they fulfilled their pledge."
Gimli was quiet for a few seconds, seconds that passed as minutes to her. "The very warmth of my blood seems stolen away." Yeah, I can feel it too. The echoes grew, buzzing angrily in her head, and Rosalie grimaced, fighting to block them out. But the echoes fought back. A bead of sweat trailed down her neck, and her face turned red, screwed up almost painfully. Then suddenly, silence. She sighed, relieved, as Legolas stepped up to her side, eyes flickering briefly to her before the ancient words on the stone, ringing with archaic power.
"The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it... The way is shut." He read, and the girl closed her eyes. Army? Curse? Are we really going to try and find a possibly crazy army with only four people and two horses?
Something rumbled from the deep, a deathly moan riding a wave of chill air stinging her skin wherever it hit. Rosalie gasped and shook, taking a step back, and both horses reared and flittered backwards before galloping away in the other direction. Make that four terrified people and no horses. The woman felt like she'd been doused in ice water, small strands of hair falling down scruffily after its impromptu airlift.
Aragorn gritted his teeth. "I do not fear death." He growled, sounding a lot more like the dwarf than she had heard before. Boldly, he ran straight into the gap, plunging into the stillness and darkness. Rosalie's eyes widened as she watched motionless. Legolas followed the ranger's example. She gritted her teeth, wanting to run her fingers through her hair. No, she moaned internally. She couldn't leave them in there, and she knew it.
Gimli was huffing and grumbling, thoughts on a similar path to hers. "Well this is a thing unheard of. An elf will go underground when a dwarf dare not! Oh, I'll never hear the end of it." He jumped up and down, and then sprinted down the tunnel after Aragorn and the elf.
Rosalie bit her lip, staring uncertainly into the hole. She couldn't abandon her friends to the darkness, could she? No, but she didn't want to travel down that demonised rabbit-hole. Just the thought made her insides lurch painfully. It was like she had rooted herself into the ground, and as much as she wanted to go after them, her legs didn't want to. I can't leave them, I have to go... That means move it! Now!
She sighed and took a deep breath, trying to calm her shaky muscles before sprinting in after them. It was more terrifying than she thought it would be. The second she passed the threshold, it was like everything stood still. Outside, nothing was heard, save the gentle rustling or crunching sand, but inside, all the noise stopped completely. Rosalie could only hear the blood pounding in her ears, which grew louder and louder as she listened. She couldn't see anything, hear anything, smell anything. This is what the dead feel... Those words echoed inside her mind, and she sped up, racing into the unknown, hoping she would find her protectors.
Suddenly in front of her, she could hear the gasping pants of Gimli son of Glóin, and she wanted to sob. She grabbed his hand, holding it tightly, slightly surprised when he held it just as firmly as she was. "Just don't tell the elf," he grumbled quietly, but the woman was thankful for the company and the break from the unbearable silence, and wouldn't plan on telling anyone if the dwarf didn't want it.
Rosalie didn't run anymore, just walking tensely a few steps behind Gimli, hands clinging together desperately. She didn't enjoy this underground; Moria wasn't a pleasant experience or memory but this was easily ten times worse, and it hadn't even ended yet. She couldn't see anything around her, nothing but blackness and the faint outline of Gimli in front of her. But, for the first time, Rosalie thought she could see something up ahead. No, that's probably nothing, you know, how after a while, people who go blind start to see things. This is just that, she told herself.
So she asked Gimli. "Do you see that?" She softly whispered, her voice loud and booming in the darkness. Rosalie didn't hear an answer, something that didn't help her nerves. So is that a yes or a no? Rosalie thought. She decided it was a yes, as the darkness grew into a faded grey. The walls grew closer; slimy blue-grey rock on all sides, cold, stagnant air prickling every inch of her skin. Her heart leapt when she saw a familiar head of fair hair, and she brushed past Gimli, accidentally pushing him not too delicately into the cavern wall. He muttered darkly but said nothing else as the girl picked up her pace. Legolas stopped and looked back, waiting patiently for Rosalie. His face was impassive but his eyes were anything but.
Gimli stalked past both of them, grumbling in the dim light as he stomped past. In a fit of brave boldness in the dark, Rosalie grabbed the elf's hand, muscles in her jaw twitching. She thought she saw blue eyes above her head. "I don't like this place," she admitted, not wanting to open her mouth again in case she said something to him she'd regret. He didn't say anything, but he didn't pull away. That's a good sign, right? Something fluttered in her chest, a feeling that felt strange in such awful surroundings, but not completely unwelcome. Or he's just trying to comfort a friend moron.
The underground corridor suddenly broke into a giant hall with greenish stairs and buildings carved into the cavern wall, glowing faintly. Aragorn had stopped walking, staring up at everything, a dark pit in front of the ghoul city with a lattice of bridges and walkways in the deep of it. Rosalie's eyes widened, and she turned around. Found the army...
They truly were an army of the dead. Soldiers in ancient, murky-stained chainmail, skin withered and sunken like they'd been mummified and long, dusty, untamed beards had ran across the pit, floating like they stood on ground. A single one stood regally on a set of stairs, a cloak draped around his armour, skin slightly better preserved, milky white orbs surveying the small group with a gruesome smile on his face.
"Who dares enter my domain?" The ghost's voice snarled, and Legolas let go of the woman's hand, slim pale hands inching subtly towards his bow. Gimli's axe was already out, while Aragorn's hand was on his sword as he stepped forward.
"One who will have your allegiance." He said firmly, and Rosalie stared at the King. The Ghoul King smirked.
"The dead do not suffer the living to pass." A rumble passed through the ghost army and Rosalie felt the elf step away from her, watching the ghosts behind her back.
The ranger didn't smile. "You will suffer me." The King laughed a laugh like dragging nails down a chalkboard, and the flesh on his face fizzed and melted, showing glimpses of the bones underneath. The woman cringed, hand on her sword as well, trying to look away but couldn't.
"The way is shut." The King rumbled, words echoing in the underground cavern. "It is made by those who are dead. And the dead keep it. The way is shut." With each new sentence, the rumbling and whispering of the bloodthirsty dead grew, a united buzzing crowding them. "Now you must die." He declared.
"I summon you to fulfil your oath." Aragorn shouted, and the smile fell from the Ghost King's face.
"None but the King of Gondor can command me." He spat, glaring at the ranger who met his challenging gaze. The King stalked down his steps, and Legolas grabbed Rosalie's arm tightly, stopping her from backing up the ranger. The Ghost swung heavily, Aragorn catching it just in time, silver metal sword glinting against the King's transparent partner. The Ghost stumbled back, staring in horror at it. "That line was broken!" He hissed, and Aragorn raised his head pridefully.
"It has been remade!" He turned to the ghostly mass. "Fight for us and regain your honour. What say you?" He asked, looking at the ensemble. Behind him, the King scowled. "What say you?" He demanded from the silent.
Gimli snorted, shaking his head, glaring darkly at the Army of the Dead. "You waste your time Aragorn. They had no honour in life, they have none now in death."
The ranger ignored him, still glancing around. The ghosts seemed stumped, weapons lowered, staring at Aragorn with an almost gormless look. "I am Isildur's heir." He shouted, and the Ghost King rose. "Fight for me, and I will hold your oaths fulfilled." Aragorn turned to the King. Rosalie bit her lip. "What say you?"