Wow I cannot believe how many people have read this story! Once again thank you so so so much for the kind reviews. I'm always nervous when I get a new one but their always so nice! Hopefully this chapter will give a little more insight into Eredhel losing her mother and the effects it had on her family. Enjoy!

Eredhel stood on the edge of a cliff, looking down at the narrow cleft that served as a path through the mountains. No matter what her destination, anytime she traveled close to the pass she would stop here. It did not bring her grief, it was simply a habit, a way of reminding herself what the foul creatures of Mordor were capable of doing if left unchecked. It was here where the orcs had waited for her mother and her escort. They had attacked the elves by surprise, taking her mother captive and killing those who accompanied her. Eredhel had been in Rivendell at the time and her father had grown anxious when Celebrían failed to return from Lothlórien. A week later he had sent Eredhel and her brothers in search of her. They came across signs of a struggle and found an elven sword cast beneath the rocks. It had not taken them long to sort out what had happened.

They had tracked the orcs deep into the caves, concern for their mother driving them past their fear of the black tunnels. When they finally found the orcs they slayed them mercilessly, their anger pushing them to a near deranged ferocity. It was Elladan who found Celebrían curled up in a hollow in the rock. Her clothes were ripped and dirty, her skin covered in scrapes and bruises. The elf's eyes had been haunting, their depths lifeless and cold. She had clung to her son desperately, shielding her eyes from the bloodied corpses of her captors.

Eredhel ran her fingers through her thick hair, her brow furrowing. Her father had been stricken with grief when they brought her mother to him. Her physical injuries had been healed easily enough but the emotional scars ran deep. She had sailed away less than a year later, leaving her family behind. Arwen had taken it the hardest. Elladan and Elrohir had used their grief as fuel for their hatred of orcs and Eredhel had long ago taught herself to numb the pain of loss. But Arwen had not been able to do so, she had felt the absence of her mother with every fiber of her being as had Lord Elrond. Eredhel had come to terms with it easily enough, knowing that her mother would find happiness and peace in the Grey Havens. Celebrían's last words to her echoed in her head. "Eredhel, you have built yourself a fortress, recoiling from anyone who it would pain you to lose. After all these years the grief of that battle still lingers in you. All will be well daughter, you are stronger than you believe."

She whispered a prayer to Mandos and turned away from the edge. She had made it halfway down the cliff when she heard the howl of a Warg. It was coming from the direction of the Fellowship. The wolves were zeroing in on their location. Eredhel started to sprint down the steep incline, she had to get back to them. She had been running for over two hours when she saw the fire in the distance. They had built it up so that the flames rose almost to shoulder height and she could see their black silhouettes gathered around it in a circle. The wolves had not yet attacked. Eredhel spotted a large rock overlooking the encampment and decided to scale it so she could have a better vantage point. As long as the Wargs did not catch her, she would be able to see them coming and shoot them from a distance. Eredhel slowed her pace as she got closer to the fire and gave it a wide berth. At one point a wolf looked in her direction and sniffed the air but soon lost interest. Finally she reached the rock and climbed up, scoping out the situation below.

The Fellowship were facing the wolves that surrounded them. The leader, a hulking black beast was staring at Gandalf. The wizard raised his staff and ordered them to flee. The creatures were silent for a moment and then the leader jumped at Gandalf. In a second he was dead, Eredhel's and Legolas' arrows protruding from his neck. The Fellowship seemed confused by the second shot but did not have time to dwell on it. The wolves were enraged by the death of their chief and were now attacking the group. The hobbits jabbed at their knees and Gandalf smote them with fire. Several fell to Legolas' bow and knives. Aragorn separated from the others, battled two grey Wargs on his own. He had just managed to kill them when another came leaping towards him. He only had time to turn before his enemy had tackled him to the ground. Eredhel quickly sent an arrow through it's thick skull and jumped down from her perch to help Aragorn. She rolled the dead animal off him. "It's about time you showed up!" he exclaimed as she hauled him to his feet.

"Yes, just in time to save your neck. As usual!" said Eredhel, shooting another wolf that had been advancing on the hobbits. Somehow she soon found herself fighting back to back with Gimli. His ax was almost the height of him but he swung it savagely from side to side, hewing his enemies. The weapon sang as it cut through muscle and bone.

"See here elf! This is the true strength of the dwarves!" he bragged as he lopped off a warg's head. Eredhel rolled her eyes as she hauled out her knife and stabbed another in the stomach. Soon the few survivors had fled back to the mountains yowling with their eyes rolling in their sockets. Eredhel wiped her blade on a dead warg's fur and then began to collect arrows from the bodies. Those that were still intact she placed into her quiver with the exception of the ones that belonged to Legolas. She handed the elf those that had the yellow fletchings and he nodded gratefully. The others had sheathed their weapons and returned to the fire.

"More of them could return," said Aragorn.

"Yes, we cannot stay here," agreed Gandalf. "We must lighten our feet and make all haste for the gate of Moria."

"Have we not any other alternative?" asked Legolas.

"No, it is the only way," Gandalf replied. Within half an hour they were on their way to entrance of the mine. It had taken a few moments to get the pony moving but Sam had managed to calm him down. They trudged along the mountains, Gandalf leading them with the light from his staff. He had traveled through Moria once but it had been many years ago when he had accompanied Thorin and the dwarves, one of whom had since returned to the mine in an attempt to reclaim it from the orcs. The wizard hoped that Balin was faring well and their enemies had been driven away. If not, it could be extremely dangerous to pass under the mountain.

Near the back of the group Merry and Pippin were walking with Boromir. The man had taken a liking to the two hobbits and they were asking him what he had heard about Moria. "Not a great deal," he answered. "I know that in the past men of my country gave it a wide berth do to the foul creatures that dwelled there."

"What kind of creatures?" inquired Merry.

"Well orcs obviously, the occasional troll. But there were also rumors of something darker and far older than those evil beasts. Some kind of ancient horror." Boromir answered.

"You don't think we'll come across any of that do you? Pippin asked nervously.

"You need not worry hobbits! My cousin Balin will give us a royal welcome," Gimli assured them from a few feet ahead. He was rather eager to reach the mines, being the only member of the Fellowship who did not have another of their race in the company. He longed for passages hewn from rock and to speak in the language of his people. Although Gimli had come to trust Legolas and Eredhel he was unsure of how the dwarves would receive the elves. Neither of them had spoken much since the attack by the wolves and they seemed reluctant to go underground. Gimli shrugged his shoulders. If the pointy eared ones were nervous then it would all the more amusing for him.

After another hour of walking they came within view of the gate. An enormous rock face stretched as far as the eye could see, bordering a black lake. The silver moon reflected off the still water and cast an eerie glow on the opposite shore. Winding their way between large boulders, the Fellowship followed Gandalf along the bank towards the other side. The sheer slab of rock was uninterrupted by any crack or indentation. They stopped by a gnarled tree that had long since stopped growing, its worn bark now a washed out white. Gandalf began to trail his hand along the cool stone surface, muttering under his breath. "Dwarf doors are invisible when closed. A useful way to keep out enemies," explained Gimli when Frodo gave the wizard a quizzical look.

"Yes," agreed Gandalf, "It is possible that their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten or lost."

"Why does that not surprise me?" said Legolas and Gimli grumbled.

"He has a point Gimli," said Eredhel and she gave Legolas a wink. "I do recall a story I heard on the road of a troop of dwarves that had been traveling for many years. They were gone so long that when they returned to their mountain they wandered for several days without finding the entrance. They had almost given up hope when a messenger happened upon them. They had only been a few feet from the door yet unable to find it among the rocks." The dwarf snorted at her tale and Eredhel shrugged before going to join Boromir away from the others. Despite their earlier conflict they had become friends. They talked of his younger brother Faramir, who was the leader of the Rangers of the South. Boromir spoke fondly of his sibling and missed him greatly, much like Eredhel longed to see her brothers. They had bonded over this and Boromir had found he liked her company. Now however they stood silent, staring into the dark lake.

Legolas had watched her go and was now looking over at her wondering if her story about the dwarves had been true or if she had simply wanted to irritate Gimli. The dwarf followed his gaze and wasn't surprised to see him watching the other elf intently. "So...you and the lass," he said as a sly grin spread over his face.

"What about us?" questioned Legolas and he turned his attention to the dwarf.

"Well nothing, except for the fact that you fancy her," he replied.

"Nonsense, she is simply a very dear friend," insisted Legolas, feigning innocence.

"Aye and my cousin Balin is a square dancing maiden." Gimli rolled his eyes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he insisted.

"Eredhel's a bit more difficult to read but you lad, you're not fooling anybody." Gimli smirked, making Legolas scowl. The dwarf was being more irritating than usual. Legolas rolled his eyes and pushed away from rock, ignoring Gimli's snort of laughter as he went to stand beside Gandalf. He had managed to find the entrance and the ancient runes lit up the rock, throwing a white glow on the wizard's face. Two trees twisted around a large archway inscribed with elvish writing. Beneath the arc were seven stars, one of them crowning a simple helm. Below that there was a hammer and anvil. Gandalf read the runes and translated them for the others.

"The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter," he said in wonder.

"What do you suppose that means?" asked Pippin.

"Oh, it's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open," explained Gandalf. He placed his staff against the crowning star and spoke his command. "Annon Edhellen, edro hi ammen! (Gate of the Elves, open now for me!)" The shimmering entrance did not budge. Gandalf raised his hands upwards, "Fennas Nogothrim, lasto beth lammen. (Doorway of the Dwarf-folk, listen to the word of my tongue.)"

"Nothing's happening," said Pippin. Gandalf placed his hands on the doors and pushed inward but still they did not move. He began to grow impatient.

"I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves, Men and Orcs," he said thoughtfully.

"What are you going to do then?" asked Pippin.

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words!" growled Gandalf angrily. "Only a few trials I think, will be needed. I shall not have to call on Gimli for words of the secret dwarf tongue that they teach to no one. The opening words are elvish, that seems certain." He continued to mutter spells and commands, running his long fingers over the smooth rock. The minutes ticked by as the Fellowship waited for him to discover the password. Behind him Sam and Aragorn were removing the supplies and tack from Bill. The pony would not be able to accompany them into the mines and that would mean they would have to go on without some of their provisions. Sam looked downcast as he stroked the animal's soft nose.

"Goodbye Bill. You were the best pony we could have asked for." He gave Bill a smack on the rump and watched him trot away, his hooves clopping on the pebbles. Meanwhile, Merry and Pippin were staring out at the lake, stones in hand. Merry threw his into the center of the giant pool, sending a ripple through the water. Another plunk followed as Pippin threw his high into the air and watched it drop then disappear beneath the surface. They had each just picked up another rock when their arms were roughly grabbed by Boromir and Eredhel.

"Do not disturb the water," the elf warned. Pippin let the stone slip from his fingers, gulping at her glare. Both she and Boromir gave the lake an uneasy glance and narrowed their eyes as if trying to find something in its depths. There were several bubbles forming where the hobbits had thrown their rocks and they seemed to be moving in the direction of the company.

"Can you see anything Boromir?" asked Frodo nervously, coming to join them. "Oh, how I do hate this place. Can Gandalf not do something to open the gate?" But the wizard took no notice of them, his head bowed in deep thought as he pondered the door's riddle. The bubbles were getting closer, sending out waves that were now lapping the shore.

"Back away Frodo," commanded Boromir and said softly, to Eredhel, "There is definitely something in there and I would be willing to bet it's not the friendly sort." Eredhel nodded and drew an arrow. Her eyes were keener than his and she would be ready to attack at the first sign of trouble. Suddenly Gandalf leapt up from where he was sitting, his laughter breaking the eerie quiet.

"Of course! It's so simple!" he cried. "Absurdly simple, like most riddles when you find the answer." He rose and once again placed his staff against the rock then in a clear voice said "Mellon!" The highest star shone brightly and the doors began to slowly swing outwards. The wizard nodded, satisfied with his work. A rush of stale air met them as moonlight flooded into the tunnel. Eredhel was the last to enter and she felt the hair on her arms raise as she surveyed the dark cave.

"Soon, dear Elves, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves! Roaring fires, malt beer, tender meat off the bone. This, my friends, is the home of my cousin, Balin," explained Gimli, his voice full of pride. Ahead, Gandalf blew onto the crystal of his staff, lighting the stone from within. He swept it around him, illuminating the grey walls. Even so it was difficult for the rest of the Fellowship to see but Eredhel and Legolas could easily make out shapes and forms nearby. The walls were dirty, covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. "And they call it a mine! A mine!" chuckled Gimli but they paid him little mind as they searched their surroundings. Something crunched beneath their feet and they looked down to find the floored littered with bones and weapons.

"This isn't a mine, it's a tomb!" said Boromir grimly. Many of the dead were dwarves, their bodies broken and rotting. Legolas pulled an arrow from one of their helms and examined it closely. Eredhel knew where it had come from even before the words had left his mouth.

"Goblins!" he spat and threw it to the ground in disgust. Boromir and Aragorn drew their swords while Legolas joined Eredhel in nocking an arrow.

"Quickly!" hissed Eredhel, "back out through the entrance. A great evil lurks here!" Gimli wailed mournfully but grabbed his axe as the hobbits backed into a corner.

"Yes," agreed Boromir, "We make for the Gap of Rohan. It was foolish for us come here." They all made for the door but suddenly something shot out of the water and grabbed Frodo by the ankle. A strangled cry escaped his lips as he was dragged towards the lake, clawing at the ground for something to hold onto.

"Frodo!" yelled Aragorn and he charged towards the shore with the hobbits following close behind. A giant creature had rose from the lake and they hacked at the tentacle binding Frodo. Merry grabbed one of his arms and the creature released Frodo for a moment before several more tentacles snaked around him once again. He was pulled from Merry's grasp then dragged out and into the air. Boromir and Aragorn waded into the water, slicing at the creatures limbs. A giant, round head rose from the lake. Pale eyes glistened from a slimy, scarred face. Legolas and Eredhel shot multiple arrows at the tentacles wrapped around Frodo. Suddenly he was whipped through the air as the monster opened it's mouth, displaying rows upon rows of short jagged teeth. Aragorn sliced through the final tentacles just in time and Frodo fell into Boromir's arms.

"Into the Mines!" yelled Gandalf over the roar of the beast. The men started hesitantly towards the cave.

"Go!" cried Eredhel as she shoved Sam and Merry towards them. "I'll cover you, run!" Legolas joined her in front of the doors and fired arrow after arrow as their friends ran for cover. Finally they aimed for its eye and the creature retreated as it shrieked in pain.

"Hurry!" shouted Legolas and he grabbed Eredhel's arm as they ran for the cave. They had just reached the inside when two giant arms snaked out from the water and slammed the doors shut behind them. The rock above them began to shake and the Fellowship dropped to the ground as stones tumbled down all around them. Eredhel pushed Merry into a tight corner then found herself dragged to the floor with another body pressed on top of her. Boulders fell and blocked the entrance, coating everything in a layer of sediment and dust. When the rumbling stopped, the Fellowship rose cautiously from the ground and assessed their situation. Legolas pulled Eredhel to her feet and she realized he must have thrown himself over her in the commotion. The action stirred something in her chest, a deep rooted fear. It had been laying dormant but not forgotten and now it surged to the forefront of her mind. But now was not the time to dwell on it. She nodded in thanks but it made no difference, any movement imperceptible in the now total darkness. The only thing that could be heard was the ragged breathing of their companions.

"We now have but one choice," said Gandalf, his voice echoing off the walls. Light once again shone from his staff and illuminated their gruesome surroundings. "We must face the long dark road of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world."