Thank you for your follows and reviews. I have challenged myself to publish at least 2 chapters per week, so I shall hope to keep that up until the end. This chapter will be from Amber's perspective as requested by Moon maiden 2022, enjoy!*

"A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you." - Elbert Hubbard

Chapter 8

When the sun rose, no bodies were to be found on the Hillside, only arrows were left. All traces of blood and beast vanished. This troubled the wizard, knowing how far Saruman's reach must have grown, such that he could create these apparitions to attack them.

Amber held back as the fellowship began their day's march, avoiding the eyes of all who looked at her, knowing their faces to be wary and watchful. As they had packed up the camp, she had seen the dark looks from the man of Gondor and the dwarf; both distrusting now that they had seen her true nature. She could not allow herself to mourn their friendship, such as it had been, as the journey that had yet to complete weighed far more heavily in her heart to be troubled by expected distancing from mortals. Her people, though more respected than they had been in the days of her father; were still largely feared by those who did not know them well. That number, indeed, was few, and she had long counted Aragorn as her sole friend outside her own race. That at least seemed to have changed. Though much of the company still seemed to regars her with respect, it was Legolas who had proven himself a true ally.

She glanced at him, walking at the back of the company along side her, and saw that he watched her as they walked. His face appeared concerned, eyes searching hers for her emotion as they met her own.

She offered what she knew to be a grim smile, not having the humour for true cheer since the events of the night. He returned her acknowledgement with a nod, sadness flashing in his eyes at her clearly unhappy mood.

She wondered, not for the first time since their meeting, how she appeared to him. Did he think of her as a being to be pitied? She thought perhaps not, as he had sought her company often in the elven valley. It could be that she was a curiosity to him; she intrigued him, that was for certain, but she knew not if his curiosity was born from her strangeness or a true desire to know her.

She watched his profile, now turned away to scout the barren lands for sign of movement as they passed through, hoping to be unseen. His face was undoubtedly fair, his bone structure well defined as elves seemed often to have. Somehow, she thought his face to possess more warmth than the other elves she had met in Rivendell. Even her own mother, who was certainly a pretty woman, had a certain coldness about her features which did not reflect in her character. Truly, she had often thought elves looked much alike to each other but it was apparent to her that the elvish Prince held a special beauty, whether born of breeding or character she could not tell.

Her own face, she knew, was much softer in features, and she wondered idly whether he thought her fair.

As if reading her thoughts, Legolas glanced at her again, smiling as he saw her cheeks warm at being caught staring so.

"Would you tell me your thoughts if I asked you?" he questioned, gaze lingering on her pinkened cheeks.

"I thought that if I were half so pretty as you, I would have an army of suitors to take such a journey in my place" she teased, something about his question sparking her wicked sense of humour, such as she had not shown to anyone besides her brothers and Aragorn.

Legolas blushed, reddening at least as much as she before he composed himself enough to respond, smiling in pleasure as he realised her compliment within her jest, "If you were half so pretty as me, you would not be near as beautiful as you are. I should think a great many suitors would have taken your place on this journey, should you have allowed them". He did not add that he may well have counted himself among their number.

Amber felt her stomach clench at his words, flushing further in pride at such a compliment from such a man, elf or otherwise. She thanked the valar that they were at the back of the company so that their matching reddened cheeks were not laid bare for ridicule. She smiled her most dazzling smile at him, hoping he would take it as a welcome sign to say more such things to her in the future, seldom as it was that she had received any praise by those who knew her true nature. After silence had fallen again between them, she found herself speaking aloud the thought that passed through her mind, "You do not seem afraid of me".

"Is that what you would wish?" he asked, "that all who see your other form should fear you?" he did not seem to judge her with such a question, only to ascertain her meaning by the statement.

"Nay!" she exclaimed, startling Boromir who walked ahead of them, looking back at them darkly, suspicion in his eyes.

"Nay" she repeated, lowering her voice to keep their conversation private, "I do not wish such a thing, I have simply learned to expect it. As you see" at the last, she gestured ahead to where the man strode, shoulders hunched as if in defence of them.

Legolad nodded, thought farrowing his brow. "I do see that some have opinions changed due to seeing your beast form, although I cannot understand the change. Did they not know what your kin are?"

Her mouth pressed into a thin line. "They think they know, but they do not imagine the truth of it until they see me" she said, her words heavy with regret, "were my traits more akin to my mother's, I would not cause such strife in the fellowship".

"Were you more akin to your mother, you would still be a threat to those with weak minds" the elf defended, his disapproval of the others' reactions clear in his tone. "Your beast is nothing to be ashamed of. Such a form is a gift of your kin and you should have pride at such magic within your blood" he spoke with such conviction that she found herself willed to believe him.

"Perhaps" she conceded, feeling renewed wonder at the radiant elf who had forged his way into her life and heart. "If I should feel shame again, I know which friend I shall ask to boost my pride" she smiled, feeling unaccountably shy.

"I hope you will not need to ask me" he said, his voice soft with affection, "It is my dearest wish that you see yourself for your true magnificence before our journey together ends".

At his bringing up of the end of their journey, should they reach it, she felt a strong pang of loss. She did not wish this journey, arduous though it was, to end; for then she would have no further excuse for remaining in the elf's company. She found that the more she resisted the tug she felt towards him, the more pain she felt at the idea of their parting.

Around noon, a small trickle of water crossed their path and Gandalf identified it as used to be the stream, Sirannon, which had flowed from near the gates into Moria. As this name was mentioned once more, Amber glanced over to Legolas to see the shadow cross his face. She knew that he did not wish to venture there and wondered again what evil could be so terrible to strike fear in the heart of a Warrior so brave as he.

It was as the evening lengthened, the sun touching the Western Horizon, that they finally came to a cliff wall. "There are the walls of Moria" Gandalf told the company, who eyed the rock face with mixed emotions. Only Gimli seemed glad to have come there, even Aragorn, who had ventured through much of Middle Earth, seemed ill at ease.

They pick their way around the Narrow path which was all left of dry land close to the cliff face, for deep, murky pool had spread its waters to almost the edge. The site of it gave Amber the shivers, her Beast senses standing to attention in her mind, hackles raised.

They paused to take the burdens from the pony Bill, who was to be set free and not come into the mines. The hobbit, Sam, seemed very sad at this parting, giving Amber a glimmer of hope for reconciliation with at least he, for he could clearly see the merit in those who walked on four legs.

They then picked their way to a spot where Gandalf stopped to face the wall, the last light of the evening dipping beyond the horizon and giving the cliff wall an eerie glow.

"Well, here it is at last" Gandalf told them, speaking of the history of the mine and its' people's dealings with the elves. Legolas and Gimli argued who was at fault for their people's animosity, neither conceding. Amber mused at this, so different were they and yet not so in the ways that to her mattered. They were both kind of heart and loyal to the company. Although Gimli now seemed wary of her, she had not caught him glowering her way as she had the man of Gondor. She had threatened, once, to eat Boromir, but surely he knew that had been in jest? Even in beast form, she would not wish to taste the flesh of any who walked on two feet. Any more than the foul orks and goblins whom she had had to endure since they had begun the attacks on her people. She could never consume them, disgusting as they were.

The moonlight appeared from behind a cloud, casting it's light up on the stone which began to glow with faint lines, spreading to become an intricate doorway with Elvis writing atop it. Gandalf told them of it's meaning, a welcome to speak the password and enter; and while the company watched Gandalf as he attempted to open it with spells, Amber turned her face to the way they'd come, thinking for a moment that she heard wolf voices once more.

After some time passed, the doors not budging and the howling growing closer, suddenly one howl called above the others and there could be no more doubt. Just as she turned to tell the group, Boromir cursed at the sound and tossed a stone into the dark water.

Amber felt her stomach grow cold as the dread she had felt upon seeing the cursed pool grew, threatening her limbs with icy fear.

Just then, Gandalf let out a peal of laughter, breaking the tension that was growing among those who had noticed the disturbance. "I have it!" He cried, telling them that it was a riddle. "Mellon" he spoke to the wall, the word one of the few of the elvish language which Amber had now learned, for 'Mellon nin' was often how Legolas referred to her, telling her he called her his friend..

The stone lines seemed to brighter, dividing in the middle and swinging outwards so that a large entrance now stood before them, leading into the dark underbelly of the stone hill.

The moment that Gandalf stepped foot on the first stone step leading inside, there was a cry, and Frodo was whipped off his feat by a long tentacle that had crept from the dark waters. Amber leapt after him, but before she could grab hold of his flailing arms, it seemed that a flurry of additional tentacles appeared from the darkness, reaching out to them from the murky depths.

The hobbit, Sam, managed to cut away his friend and Gandalf called for them to all run into the mine to escape the monster now writhing in the dark waters. As the last of them entered the dark cave, Gandalf thrust his staff against the doors, now closed, and they heard as a tumble of rocks buried the entrance (and hopefully, the monster that had assailed them).

As the quiet settled around them in the dark, they knew that their way back was now shut. Only forward, would take them out of this deep place.