Fan Fiction ❯ Lord of the Rings: Stargaze ❯ The Pass of Caradhras ( Chapter 8 )

The Pass of Caradhras

"When winter first begins to bite

and stones crack in the frosty night,

when pools are black and trees are bare,

'tis evil in the Wild to fare."

The Fellowship tromped resolutely up the steep, snow-covered hill toward Caradhras. First came Gandalf, leading the way for the others. Following him was Sam, leading Bill the pony. After Sam and Bill came Merry and Pippin, trailing the Wood Elf and the Night Elf. Legolas and Arora were in front of Gimli, who was in front of Boromir. Trailing the Fellowship were Frodo, and lastly Aragorn.

The steep hill was thick with snow, and only the lightweight Elves were having no trouble. The others had to stomp their way through heavy drifts. Finally, Frodo lost his footing and started to tumble back down again.

Fortunately, Aragorn managed to stop him and set him right again before he rolled too far. But when Frodo felt around his cold neck, he missed the Ring, and looked up in time to see Boromir pull it from the snow. The Fellowship ahead was silent and still as the Man of Gondor stared curiously at the small piece of jewelry.

Aragorn's eyes narrowed. "Boromir."

Boromir did not hear him; he seemed to have fallen into some sort of trance as he stared at the Ring. "It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing…" he murmured softly. "Such a little thing."

"Boromir!"

Aragorn's voice brought Boromir out of his daze. He looked up to see Aragorn's face dark, Frodo looking worried.

"Give the Ring to Frodo," Aragorn ordered slowly.

Boromir blinked, and then walked forward and grinned. "As you wish," he said lightly. Frodo snatched the Ring out of his hand. "I care not." He chuckled and ruffled the Ringbearer's fluffy hair.

As Boromir turned, swung his shield over his shoulder again and rejoined the Fellowship, Aragorn slowly released his grip on his sword.

Legolas had been watching this with no expression save slightly widened eyes. Arora, however, was scowling deeply. She caught Legolas's eye and gave him a pointed look.

"Dartho guin Mithrandir," she whispered to him. Then she padded lithely to the end of the Fellowship. She positioned herself behind Aragorn. "Stay with Gandalf."

The Ranger glanced at her as she passed him without a look. He closed his eyes and sighed to himself, but moved forward without complaint. Legolas shook his head sadly, but did as Arora wished, and stationed himself at the head of the line.

~*~

Caradhras was brutal. The snow that was chest height for the Men alone was enough to freeze the poor Hobbits to death, and then there was the wind that would have sent a reindeer leaping for shelter. Aragorn held Frodo and Sam close to keep them warm, and Boromir had Merry and Pippin. Sam and Frodo blinked up as Legolas passed them, and Merry and Pippin stared, shivering, at Arora behind. The Elves were walking on the snow. Apparently they were much lighter than they looked, or maybe it was magic. They didn't even seem to feel the blasting cold.

Aragorn lifted his head to Legolas briefly, but concentrated on following the clear trench that Gandalf was cutting for them with his staff. Legolas padded up to the edge of the narrow cliff, searching in all faraway directions, nearly blinded by the wind and sheets of snow. Faintly, he could hear a deep voice blown in their direction.

"There is a fell voice on the air!" he informed the others, still trying to locate the sound.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf cried, and at that moment lightning struck the top of the mountain, sending snow boulders hurtling down towards them. Legolas dove for Gandalf and pulled him back against the side of the mountain as the snow struck the edge of the cliff and disappeared below.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn cried, pulling the Hobbits close to protect them. "Gandalf, we must turn back!"

"No!" Gandalf replied wildly. His magic pulled him to the top of the snow, and Legolas stood by, amazed and tense, as Gandalf began to roll his Elvish counter spell into the storm.

But Saruman the White's magic was too powerful for Gandalf the Grey to reflect. Another bolt struck the mountaintop, and this time an avalanche found its mark. The Fellowship was buried under many pounds of frigid snow and rock, and all was quiet except for the howling of the wind.

Then suddenly, Legolas and Arora managed to fight their way through the snow to the surface. Pulling themselves out, they both turned back and dug swiftly to help the others, who had already started to appear. Soon, each member of the Fellowship could breathe…but they were still freezing, wet, and stuck.

"We must get off the mountain!" Boromir shouted over the wind. "Make for the Gap of Rohan! And take the west road to my city!"

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn yelled in frustration.

"We cannot pass over a mountain. Let us go under it," Gimli insisted a second time, his beard full of snow. "Let us go through the Mines of Moria."

Legolas narrowed his eyes and Arora glowered, but Gandalf took no notice of them. He could almost hear, as if in a memory, Saruman saying softly,

"Moria. You fear to go into those mines. The Dwarves delved too greedily and too deep. You know what they awoke in the darkness of Khazad-dûm: shadow…and flame."

"Let the Ringbearer decide."

Everyone's eyes lifted to Gandalf, then turned to Frodo. The Hobbit was still shivering in Aragorn's coat, but he looked blankly at Gandalf, as if wondering why the wizard was talking to him He looked around at the cold and tired Company…his fellow Hobbits…

"We cannot stay here!" Boromir interjected suddenly. "This will be the death of the Hobbits!"

Indeed, Merry and Pippin were so cold that they had turned white; their lips were blue and their eyes were red, and they quaked and looked pleadingly at Frodo.

Arora made an angry sound, and dropped to one knee beside Boromir and his passengers. She glared at Boromir angrily, as if it was his fault the Hobbits were freezing to death, and he returned the look and tried to pull Merry and Pippin away from her. But Arora ignored him…with hands so loving and tender that she surprised even Legolas, she took hold of Merry and Pippin's hands. Slightly frightened at first, the two Halflings looked on in wonder.

The soft, musical speech of the Elves whispered past her lips; it was the sub-language of the Night Elves, and Legolas, Aragorn, and even Gandalf could not understand it. Her words were short and quiet, and her gentle touch began to soothe Merry and Pippin…then, to their great surprise, warmth began to spread from her fingertips through their entire bodies. They no longer felt the killing cold. Instead, it felt as if they were home in the Shire, lying on a grassy hilltop, basking in the summer sunshine.

The Fellowship saw the deathly palor recede from the faces of their small companions. Boromir looked stunned, and glanced at Aragorn, who looked as if what he had said on that night before was being proved. Gimli blinked, spluttered, then snorted and shuffled in place. Frodo and Sam looked shocked, glanced at each other, and shivered some more. Arora looked just as surprised as Merry and Pippin that her little spell had worked, but when their expressions turned to smiles of gratitude, she couldn't help but return the kind gaze.

All of this happened in just a few seconds. Gandalf looked proud of his new apprentice, but at the same time very weary; they needed to stay on track. "Frodo?"

Frodo returned his attention to the wizard, and concentrated very hard. Then he reached his decision.

"We will go through the Mines."

Gandalf made no indication that he agreed or disagreed with this choice. He simply gave a slight nod and said, "So be it."

Arora went even paler.

~*~

The trip back down the mountain grew increasingly less difficult. Downhill was certainly far more easier than up, and was aided by the fact that they had already created a clear path through. The Men, Hobbits, Dwarf and wizard traipsed along through the blazed trail, while the Elves kept their positions high.

Merry and Pippin had left Boromir behind and had taken to hurrying along beside Arora, chatting excitedly to her, often looking brightly up at her to see if she was listening or what she thought. Being Hobbits, they were much grateful for the warmth in the cold. They spoke of things that did not pertain in any way to the Quest…but the stories of their pranks and mischief didn't seem to annoy Arora in the least. In fact, she seemed highly amused and entertained by them, and kept encouraging the Hobbits to tell her more.

The members of the Fellowship who paid any attention to her were quite taken aback by this change in behavior. Boromir looked resentful and confused. Aragorn kept glancing at the Night Elf sideways and shaking his head. Gimli noticed nothing. Sam and Frodo kept looking back and forth from each other to Merry and Pippin to Arora. Gandalf had seemed pleased, but now took no notice, and the others gradually paid less attention as they made their way down Caradhras.

But Legolas couldn't take his eyes off Arora. What a sudden change it had been for her, even if she still treated the others the same. How could Merry and Pippin unwittingly do what the others could not? What had made Arora melt her heart for two young Hobbits?

She had been surprised that her magic had worked, and angry at Boromir just before it. Normally, she would have pulled back with some sort of condescending action, but…

Legolas had seen her face. He had seen her when she had warmed Merry and Pippin. He had seen the expression, and the light that shone from her eyes. She seemed…loving, and caring. It was the same look that Lauranna used to have when Legolas was a child, and would come to her for the healing of his new cuts and bruises. Lauranna had gazed at him as though she was so fond of her adventurous little son who could never keep himself out of trouble, and she would never be tired of cheering him up.

That was the exact same look Arora had briefly shown.

What did it mean?

~Deep in the Forest of Mirkwood~

Thranduil stood with several of his servants in the throne room, pouring over messages informing him of war and Sauron and everything he did not want to hear. His eldest son was with him, looking completely uninterested, but occasionally picking up a piece of parchment with vicious war brutality described on it.

Suddenly, the huge stone doors burst open, propelled by their own magic and a rush-looking messenger. Thranduil's head rose sharply, glaring at the messenger for intruding, but his mood changed to surprise as he saw the look in the Elf's eyes. Khisanth's dull, bored expression lifted slightly; this might be interesting.

"What is the problem?" Thranduil asked in his rolling accent, raising his brows.

The messenger inclined his head respectfully. "I bring word from Lord Elrond the Far-seeing," he replied. "I was sent to deliver this letter concerning the status of the Fellowship…and your son, sire."

Thranduil immediately snatched the letter out of the messenger's extended hand. Khisanth's fair face went pale. Thranduil read through the parchment swiftly, a smirk slowly crawling across his features.

"What news of my brother, Father?" Khisanth asked in a soft, dangerous hiss.

"Legolas fares well, exceedingly so given the mission," Thranduil rumbled pompously. "They were nearly defeated upon the summit of Caradhras, but they survive, and Elrond's gaze reveals that they make for the path through Moria." It was simple to tell in the Elfking's voice that Thranduil was feeling very proud of his youngest son.

Khisanth's cold, ice blue eyes narrowed. "You encourage his foolish quest?"

"The Quest is not foolish, Khisanth. All of Middle-earth is endangered by Sauron's hand and that Ring. This Quest will save us all, and Legolas is extraordinarily brave to willingly go with them. You could do to follow your brother's example at times," Thranduil replied airily as he returned to his parchments.

The servants instantly shrank back as they prepared for an eruption of Khisanth's furious temper. The Mirkwood Crown Prince's handsome face was swiftly turning red; his hands were balled into fists, and all the muscles in his strong body were tense with the effort of keeping his rage and insult contained.

It was too much. Icy eyes flashing, Khisanth whirled and stormed off, slamming the throne room doors so hard that the stones almost cracked. Servants cowered in terror, but Thranduil merely glanced up from his work, and returned to it unaffected.

The horror! The insult! The humiliation! How DARE he lower ME to the level of my worthless - insignificant - appalling - DISGRACE of a brother!

Khisanth fumed through the great halls, his rage like a maelstrom blasting inside his heart. Other Wood Elves passing by stared in shock or took cover. One of Khisanth's friends saw his anger and tried to keep up.

"Khisanth? M-My lord? What is wrong?" he asked, curious and afraid at the same time.

But Khisanth paid no attention, and his eyes would have turned even the boldest man to stone, so terrible was his fury at his father's remark. He reached the private Royalty chambers and swept inside. The Elf beside him had no time to enter before the door closed with a slam.

So…Moria, was it? Khisanth growled to himself as he paced in the silent room. Let us see how you fare against the terrors in the darkness, my brother!

His pace quickened, and finally, when he could take it no longer, he whipped two daggers out of his belt in one swift, fluid motion, and with a cry of rage he sent the deadly blades whirling towards a picture of his family.

They sunk deep in the canvas, through Legolas's heart.