Chapter 11
After a brief rest, the fellowship began their journey through the long dark of Moria. Everyone was eager for it to be over as soon as possible and were all willing despite how weary they were. Gandalf took the front as he led them on a safe passage. In his hand he held his staff, providing light to keep the darkness at bay, much to the comfort of them all. Gimli kept pace with Gandalf in front of the group, the dwarf's face was frowned in disbelief and despair; for this was not the grand mine of Moria he had visited with his father Gloin during his childhood. No…then the mine was roaring and alive with life and energy. Dwarves worked tirelessly, the walls glowed orange from the hearths and fires of the craftsmen. Precious riches of stones, gems, and ore were harvested and made into the finest armor, weapons, and jewelry. None could excel the skill of the dwarves when it came to crafting such things. Gimli recalled happier times visiting his cousin, Balin. That old dwarf who he had come to admire and cherish was a constant worry upon Gimli's mind as he gazed at the dreary scenes and destruction of the once beautiful mines before him. What had happened here? The dwarf kept asking himself that question since entering the mine. He gazed at the ruins of dusty workbenches, cold hearths, forgotten tools, lonely anvils…it broke his heart to see such an extraordinary place diminished to such a miserable state. Gimli swore he would seek vengeance for whatever was responsible for this destruction.
Gandalf could sense the dwarf's discontent, and offered a comforting hand upon the dwarf's shoulder, "I appreciate your council and opinions Gimli, for I will be in need of your knowledge during this next part of our journey."
Gimli smiled slightly and gave a positive nod. Yes, he would gladly assist in guiding the fellowship through Moria. He was a dwarf after all, and what better creature was there than a dwarf to take up such a task as the guide through Moria. With spirits felt lifted, the proud dwarf marched confidently with a fiercer spring in his step. He would help Gandalf lead them safely out of here, oh but he would return after this Ring business was finished. Along with his brethren dwarfs they would march upon the great halls of Moria and restore it to its former glory…first they would need to take care of that foul lake beastie. Yes, that was top on his to-do list.
After a few hours of walking, the path began to twist and spiral in a decent where the air grew colder and fouler. The tips of the hobbits noses had grown cold and their sniffles along with the careful footsteps were the only noise to break the silence of the depths. Along the walls, the pale light of Gandalf's staff reflected on sinister markings. Legolas halted before one marking and deciphered it to be goblin graffiti. Though he could not understand the meaning behind the language, he did however recognize the substance used was blood…dwarf blood. The skeletons of many a dwarf strewn through the passageway only supported his theory. He felt his stomach churn in disgust and turned his eyes away from the markings, not wishing to imagine the evil that they held…he kept his eyes on Gandalf's light, the pale glow like a warm embrace of comfort and hope; a purity to be found in a place of filth.
Their path continued it's decent until it flattened and evened out to a large spacious area that was littered with broken tables, benches and chairs covered in layers of dust. Spider webs laced around the structures in the corners, Tauriel momentarily worried of giant spiders lurking around, hiding in the darkness. She kept her senses sharp and alert for any sight or sound of movement.
Gimli halted in front of the large hearth that lay forgotten and cold in the center of the room. His dark brown eyes swimming with memories of long ago…this room once was a place of feasting, laughter, warmth, and comfort. The last time he had visited was for Balin's birthday celebration, in this very room too. He imagined the fire roaring with warmth, a boar roasting over the flames. He saw the dwarf women behind the counters serving mugs of malt beer and ale. Near the front of the room was the largest table, this was where he sat with his kin….it was cracked and broken in many places now. All the light and joy had disappeared from the room, only memories remained.
"This was once a room where many dwarves would feast and drink together," Gimli pointed out as though he were a tour guide, "over there is the bar where many a tankard of beer was drunk. I wonder if those barrels still have beer in them?"
The hobbits walked up to the bar after Gimli and leaned against the dusty counter. Merry piped up, "Ahhh finally a counter our height, I do miss our little pub in the shire."
Pippen nodded in agreement as he watched Gimli inspect the barrels, "A mug of ale sounds very good right about now! Do you suppose if there were any beer in there, master Gimli, if it would still be any good?"
Gimli chuckled, a mischievous spark in his dark eyes, "Aye! Any barrels that haven't been popped open yet would indeed make this journey more of a merry one! If you've never had dwarven beer, you'd find yourself flat on your rump with a cheeky ol grin on your face, and a hangover to follow the next morning! Hahahaha! Our dwarven beer could make any creature drunker than a skunk just after a few gulps. Tis a much stouter and stronger beer than anything those frilly elves can make. Elven liquor is just fancy fermented fruit water that been ageing for thousands of years."
Legolas hearing the dwarf's stab at his kin spoke back, "The dwarves drink to achieve the effects of inebriation, where they become more loud and obnoxious as they go through their mugs. At least our wine is made to be enjoyed for its flavor. A much more enjoyable drink when compared to the brown sludge the dwarves call beer."
Gimli either chose to ignore Legolas' remark or was distracted by his findings when he opened the barrels. His shoulders sunk in disappointment, the barrel was empty and bone dry. "Damn, now here's another sorry sight."
"Gimli," Gandalf spoke, "It is probably for the best you were denied your beer, for I would not allow drunkenness to be our downfall on this journey. We must be alert and have our wits about us, our path is dangerous and it simply would not do to overindulge."
"Aye, you're probably right as always. Just wishful thinking is all." Gimli muttered as he inspected an empty dirty mug he found.
The hobbits stood up from the bar to walk away, Sam was the last one to linger for his mind was back in the shire. Memories of a beautiful lady hobbit with curls of golden red hair, dancing in his arms at Bilbo's birthday clouded his mind. He missed their pub in the shire as well, but not for its drinks, but for the beautiful Lady Rosie who worked there. He let his mind linger on happier memories as he at last stepped away from the bar.
Aragorn who had been inspecting more of the goblin graffiti overheard the conversation and had to chuckle at Gimli's love for his beer. The dwarf's joy was infectious and he was glad to see his spirits were lifted if only slightly.
"Gandalf?" Boromir spoke up, "Do you suppose this would be a decent place for our first night of rest? There are two exits, both would be easy to guard and we are well protected in this room."
Gandalf looked around the room, it was the most intact room they have encountered so far, and it held no corpses of deceased goblins or dwarfs. Yes, this would be a good spot to rest. Gandalf paused and looked up in thought, "We have no sun to tell us when night has fallen, but it seems I have lost track of time as it were. Yes, Boromir. I think this would be a good place for us to set camp for the night. My old bones sure could use the rest."
"Does this mean dinner time!?" Pippen exclaimed excitedly.
"Oh thank the heavens, I am so famished I could eat a warg right about now." Merry exclaimed as he went to help Sam and Frodo prepare the meal.
Frodo laughed, "Merry Brandybuck, the day you are not famished will be the day the fires in Mount Doom go out."
This caused the hobbits to chuckle as they continued to prepare the meal and poke fun at each other. Meal times were their favorite times of the day.
The fellowship dispersed and went about their duties. Gimli had remained staring around the room, Tauriel approached the dwarf and patted his shoulder lightly, causing the dwarf to jump out of the memories he was lost in. Angrily, Gimli turned to face whoever had startled him but he reigned in his anger when he saw it was the she-elf, the blonde prince's companion.
"I know what it is you are feeling master dwarf. I urge you to not dwell on it. It does not do well to think on what might have happened and what might have been." She spoke gently, but Gimli was not trusting the elf, especially since she was so closely tied with the blonde prince.
Gimli glared up at her, "Do not presume you understand my thoughts and feelings, elf! You have no business telling me what I should or shouldn't dwell on! You do not know what it is like to discover such a loss like this!" Gimli kept his true emotions hidden under his anger. He did not want to appear weak before this elf, regardless of how genuine her words sounded. He would not trust any elf!
Tauriel flared her eyes momentarily, her own anger igniting…however she closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself, putting the fire out, "I understand completely what it is to experience loss, master dwarf. Do not forget that as a child of the elder, I have lived hundreds of years as an immortal, I have seen death and pain. I have seen the slaughter of my own family as but a mere child. I saw my entire home burned to the ground by orcs…" Tauriel felt her eyes prickle whenever she recalled that fateful day. It was blurry and difficult to remember for she was but just a little elfing at the time, but she remembers the panic in her father's face and the desperation in her mother's eyes…Tauriel closed her eyes and shook her head to clear away the images, "Take heed to my words, dwarf and do not dwell on the sadness and pain. Only bad can come from it." And with that Tauriel turned and walked away.
Gimli watched her retreat to the comfort of Gandalf's light. She sat beside Legolas and he had not witnessed the exchange between the dwarf and elf. Gimli turned back to hearth, Sam had cleaned it out and had begun to prepare their dinner in it. A few strikes of flint later and the hearth came back to life. Gimli thought in the elf's words. Though he cared not to admit it, her words held wisdom. Perhaps she was just trying to be nice after all?
Perhaps the only member of the fellowship who was not gladdened by the announcement of rest and food was Legolas. He was not tired, a little sore footed perhaps, but not needing rest. He just wanted to be gone from this place. When Gandalf mentioned the sun, Legolas' soul wrenched in sadness. He longed for the sun, the wind, clean air not poisoned by the evil and filth of this place. He felt restlessness in his mind and body that would not allow him to relax and find peace, so naturally when it came time for sleep he was the first one to volunteer to take the watch. He would find no sleep that night, so when it came time for him to wake Boromir to take over watch, Legolas elected to let the man sleep and he remained at his post, his blue eyes gazing into the darkness. The first day in Moria was over. The thought of having to endure four more days of the mine made his spirit shrink and wither. The elf sighed in despair; he wrapped his cloak tighter around his lithe frame seeking its comfort more than its warmth. Four more days….four more days….four more days….
Tauriel had settled herself close to the light from the staff. Curled in her blanket and cloak, she found comfort in her elven dreams. She was taken back to Mirkwood, beside the river, lying in the grass looking up at the blue sky. She could almost taste the freshness in the air around her. Her eyes closed in bliss….and then she awoke. A stone ceiling replaced the blue sky, the sounds of snores replaced the rushing river, the grass became a dirty stone floor, and the air was stale and damp. How she wished to return to her dream. Turning her head to look around, she saw the hobbits all curled up by Gandalf, they also sought comfort from the light of the staff. Aragorn had his hood up as he rested beside a broken table. Boromir was close by….wait-Boromir? Shouldn't he be taking watch right now? Her eyes immediately sought out Legolas, she found him in the doorway of the exit, wrapped tightly in his cloak, gazing into the dark.
Tauriel frowned; he should have woken Boromir by now to take over. Legolas should be resting. Quietly so as to not wake the others, Tauriel stood up and made her way to the blonde elf. He heard her approach and he turned to meet her approach. He sighed in preparation of what he knew she was about to scold him for. "I know what it is you are going to say mellon-nin…" His voice was soft and quiet as he spoke in their native tongue. She sat against the opposite frame of the door entrance as she faced him. "...rest and dreams will not find me here, not in this place." Legolas shook his head at his last few words.
Tauriel observed her friend. His pupils were dilated and purple circles had formed under his haunted eyes. He looked like an elf that had lost hope. Even his natural elven glow had diminished. Despite his assurance that he wasn't tired, he appeared as though he hadn't slept in days. Legolas told her this part of the journey wasn't going to be easy, she was prepared for the mines, however she wasn't prepared for the effects they would have on her friend. She looked at his hands and noticed they were closed around a brown object; he seemed to be holding on to it for dear life. Her curiosity got the better of her, she replied in elvish to continue his wish for privacy in their native lounge, "What is it you have in your hand?"
Legolas looked down at the object in his hand, almost embarrassedly. He suddenly felt like a small elfing child, clutching to a comfort item. Slowly, he reached for her hand. Admiring how soft it was in his, he turned her palm up and placed the object in her hand. She felt the light weight and rough texture of the object and when his hand moved away she recognized the object as a pinecone. Joy and curiosity flowed through her as she held the pine cone in her hand. Where did he find this in such a horrid place as this?
As if he had read her mind he spoke, "It came from Rivendell…I was searching my pack and I found this buried at the bottom." A slight smile graced his features as he looked at the pinecone, "No doubt Elladan and Elrohir put it there as another one of their pranks."
Tauriel smiled and inspected the pine cone further before she placed it back in his hands, "It is beautiful sight mellon-nin."
Legolas nodded, he brought the pinecone to his face and leaned closer as he smelt it. His smile widened and he features relaxed slightly, as though he forgot where he was for a moment. "Please, do smell it." He offered it towards her face. She smiled at his enthusiasm and leaned closer to inhale its smell. A beautiful pine aroma filled her nostrils and awakened her senses. Her eyes closed. She was back in Mirkwood, in the pine grove near the Elven Halls. The evergreen trees around her and her heart rejoiced. Home…
She opened her eyes and she saw Ice blue eyes looking back into hers. His smooth pale features were blessed with a warm smile.
"Awe, tis beautiful indeed." She spoke, her eyes never leaving his gaze, though it wasn't just the pine cone she thought was beautiful.
Legolas felt his spirit lift upon her happiness and the comfort the pinecone brought them both. "Many times I walk past these and never gave them a second glance, but now in this dark place, I have never been so comforted by a mere pinecone. It's a peace of the forest I so dearly miss and long for. My heart aches to be gone from here, and to see the sky and feel the wind. I feel like this place is sucking the life from me Tauriel…and it has only been the first night. There is an evil here that I have never known before, and I have no idea where or what it is. I pray we never encounter it. I see this pinecone as a reminder of what awaits for us once we leave this dreadful mine."
Tauriel nodded at her prince's admittance of the pinecones significance. His words were true, and they both terrified her and comforted her. She sensed the evil as well, thus her caution with every step she took. Her soul felt anxious at times, longing for the comforts of nature she was currently being denied. The pinecone however, was a welcome comfort. Like the warm pure light the staff emitted, the pinecone was hope. A reminder of what awaited them once they were out of the mines.
"Elladan and Elrohir have no idea there little prank was in fact a much needed comfort." Tauriel stated.
"Aye…it was a very happy discovery." He chuckled, "Thank the valar they chose one that was not covered in sap." Tauriel tried to keep her laughter quiet. It felt nice to see him laugh and smile. They both felt much better and comfort. It was still a few hours left until the time came for them all to rise, so with Tauriel's insistence, Legolas agreed to attempt to rest. Legolas awoke Boromir for his watch, and after than man was situated for his watch, the elves went to their spot near the light where they laid down a few feet away from each other and sought rest.
Legolas lay awake for a long while; he could tell by the breaths of Tauriel that she had fallen asleep. He fiddled with the pinecone and smelt it one final time before he tucked it away in his pocket. He closed his eyes and focused on the scent of the pinecone, the sound of Tauriel breathing steadily, and he envisioned the old pine grove in Mirkwood. He still received little sleep, though he felt at peace for just a little while at least.