Caradhras

From his place within the hedge and brush of the peak he heard the Crebain's scream in his mind. Shrieking, laughing, cajouling, bitter anger and eager apprehension. The creatures watched, and though their keen eyes saw nothing of the Nine Walkers among the rocks, Legolas knew the foul bird-mind had seen them in the distance. He cursed himself for not recognizing them earlier - for such a naming might have avoided detection by any spies of Saruman. For indeed the elf believed these beings were guided by the White Istari, enemy to the Nine. Legolas closed his eyes hard against the chaos in his mind. Their cries filled his thoughts and his ears and he was hard pressed not to cry out in agony.

And then they were gone, took to wing in the direction of Isengard. The elf took in several deep, cleansing breaths before moving his lithe form from his hiding place. He saw each member of the Company emerge in turn. His gaze focused on the fading black haze before searching out Estel. The look on his old friend's face mirrored that of his own feelings.

The sky had indeed been watching.

~*~

The decision to make haste to the Caradhras was not a light one, nor was it made in as much haste as it appeared to be. It was apparent to Legolas, as well as Gandalf and Aragorn, that the passage to the south was being watched. They would need to take the next safest road.

The elf expected Boromir to suggest Minas Tirith, but the Gondorian remained quiet. Almost subdued, as if he had just realized the perilous nature of their situation. Legolas knew that spies could be used from all of Middle-Earth, but men tended not to head the warnings of Istari and Elf.

Everyone was much restrained as they repacked to began the long hike up to the Caradhras. Legolas helped Aragorn repack the supplies on Bill's saddle. The pony nudged the elf's side, then slid his cold and wet muzzle to Legolas' hand, searching for a treat. With a soft smile, the elf searched the packs till he found an apple and gave it to the pack animal.

He felt eyes upon him and looked to his right to see Frodo looking at him, a slight smile playing on the Hobbit's lip's. Legolas broadened his own grin, and Frodo matched it. The elf gave a slight nod and looked back to the pony. "It will be cold upon the mountain, my friend," he spoke softly in Sindarin as he stroked the beast's neck. The pony chomped happily on his apple. "And I fear our trials are just beginning."

Bill raised his head up twice and gave a wet snort. Legolas chuckled at the beast's antics and moved away.

Only to nearly bump head long into the dwarf. The stout creature stood in front of him, his front hands resting upon the top of his axe. Legolas raised his dark eyebrows in question, though kept his expression stoic. He did not want the dwarf to know he had not sensed his approach. Dwarves made more noise than a stampeding Oliphant – yet Gimli had managed to move to within a few feet and Legolas has hot heard him.

"That beastie," the dwarf nodded to the pony. "He speaks elvish?"

Legolas considered the question. "He understood me – yet I'm not sure if it was my speaking my own tongue that encouraged that understanding." When the dwarf did move from in front of the elf, Legolas inclined his head and said, "Is there something you wished, Master Dwarf?"

"You knew – you sensed the bird before it was visible in the sky."

Legolas wondered why the Dwarf insisted on replaying events that had already sundered the decided course of their journey. "I knew something was there – but I did not know what until I could see beak and wing."

Gimli nodded and he cast his gaze down. "Then…uh…I would like to give my…" he tore his gaze from the ground and cast it up to the sky. "A thank you. For keeping watch." The gaze came back to Legolas, hazel eyes fixed on the elf's blue ones. "For the Hobbits, you know. They need protecting."

The elf narrowed his eyes. Could he have heard true? Had the dwarf just thanked him – for being what he was? Surely Dwarves knew of the elves' keen sight and hearing, their sharpened inner senses. He himself knew of a the dwarven ability to sense precious jewel and rock in solid granite. It might be that he did not, though Legolas suspected Gimli, son of Gloin, had indeed had mixing with elves before.

The dwarf was glaring at him, as if expecting something. With a start, the elf nodded to the dwarf. "You are welcome, Gimli."

With a snort, the dwarf turned and hurrumphed back to where Aragorn stood speaking with Gandalf and Boromir. With a sigh, Legolas shook his head. An odd bit of time spent, that was. Perhaps he should keep a journal of his adventures – surely this would make a chapter of surprises.

"Legolas," called Gandalf.

The elf leapt over a stone and ran to the trio. "Mithrandir?"

"Legolas, I need a keen eye. The weather – what do you see from here?" Gandalf pointed to the high, snowy mountains.

He turned and looked to where the wizard pointed. The world around him moved past as he allowed his eyes to focus on time and distance. He could see the mountain pass, heavily covered in snow, but the sun was bright and high overhead. Perhaps two days journey. He reported as much to the wizard.

Boromir commented, "You know this from mere sight?"

"Not mere sight," Aragorn interjected. The Ranger held the Gondorian's gaze in his own. Legolas watched his old friend. "Elven sight."

Boromir nodded, and to Legolas' surprised, clapped the elf upon his back. It was a small struggle to keep himself standing upright and not step forward with the unexpected blow. "Well done, Prince. I have seen you bring down pray in dead light – I believe it. If you say the way is clear, then let us move on." He smiled – and the expression brightened the Gondorian's troubled face.

He should smile more often, Legolas thought, and then smiled to himself. Aragorn had commented on several occasions how even Legolas tended to keep his countenance in check, presenting a stoic visage for others to see. But the Ranger knew better – much better.

The trio dispersed, but not before Mithrandir pulled Legolas to the side, away from the humans. He held a hand to the elf's chest and Legolas looked into the Istari's blue eyes. He spoke in the elf's native Sindarin. "Watch and listen carefully, Legolas Greenleaf. Listen to the air, keep an eye on the skies, and keep your sense alert."

"You believe the Crebain will return?"

"No," the Istari turned and looked at the mountain. "We are being slowly directed upon another path. And if my suspicions are correct, we will not make it over the mountain."

~*~

January, 11

The early morning movement upward had brought about a chilling moment - one Legolas would not soon forget. For Frodo had fallen, and in his tumble, dropped the Ring. Boromir had retrieved it, and though the elf had stood far away beside the other hobbits and dwarf, he could hear all that the Gondorian had said, and he had sensed Estel's apprehension when it looked as if Boromir would not return the evil prize to its keeper.

Gimli had moved beside him, mumbling something in dwarven, but the elf had set a hand on the shoulder of Gloin's son and given a slight shake of his head. "Trust in Strider."

The dwarf had acquiesced - but not before pulling his shoulder from Legolas' touch. When the ring was returned and the Gondorian had moved toward them up the mountain's side, only then did Legolas see Aragorn release his tight grip from his sword. The Ranger looked past Boromir to Legolas, and the two old friends exchanged knowing glances.

The will of Sauron was strong - its pull greater on the hearts of men, and the elf feared for Boromir's sanity. He sensed the inner battle in the warrior - the need to please his father, the desire to rid his city of the threat of orc and devil, and the battle to fight the voice of the Dark Lord.

As the morning wore on to noon, the Company continued in silence. Trudging through snow thicker and deeper than the tallest hobbit proved awkward, as well as dangerous at times. Twice Legolas had lost sight of Pippin in the snow. The second time Boromir stepped forward and retrieved the shivering hobbit. Luck shown down upon them with warm, bright sun, but it did nothing in the way of melting any of the snow.

Legolas' tread rested upon the upper most crust of the packed ice. His lithe body did not sink down, but instead was buoyed, and he spent most of his time giving aid to human and hobbit alike. Sometimes even Gandalf needed a bit of a pull out of the mountain's coat.

The hobbits gave a continuous banter about the snow and how they could tell their families of the deepest of it, a sight not seen in the Shire. In the middle of describing the hardest winter he'd ever experienced, Merry disappeared in a deceptively deep drift. Legolas nimbly moved to the hole the hobbit had made and reached in. Merry took the elf's offered hand and was hoisted up and out.

Midday sun beat down high, but still did little to disturb the snow. Mithrandir gestured for Legolas to come to him and they paused atop a steep incline. The others struggled upward; Merry, Pippin, Sam and Bill the pony next, followed by Gimli, Boromir, Frodo and Aragorn.

The wizard put a hand on the elf's shoulder. "There," he pointed in the distance. "The path leads through that gorge, then around another path to the pass. Can you see if it is still well traveled?"

Legolas again focused on the distance. He could see the second path the wizard spoke of - a narrow road whose right wall was nothing more than a drop over the mountain to certain death. It was a treacherous way. Evidence of the elf's sight brought the wizard near. "I know it looks dangerous - but the only other way is through Moria. I do not wish to travel into the mines."

"Nor I," Legolas said, and a shiver shook his spine when he thought of the dark of the dwarven caves. Legolas Greenleaf was a warrior among his people, a King's son, and a fearless soldier. Only one weakness did he have, one fear that had threatened to overwhelm him at times. The elf could not abide in closed places. He would surely suffocate if he were led into that dark place again. "The path is there, though ice hangs from above where the snow has melted. We should be there by the evening, if all goes well."

"Good, good."

An abrupt commotion behind them caused elf and wizard to turn. Somehow Bill had stumbled back, and had sat hard upon the dwarf, who now lay buried in the snow. Boromir and Aragorn were busy trying to help the pony back on his hooves.

"Go and help," Gandalf said softly. "But keep a watch."

With a nod the elf traveled back down the incline and lent his strength to that of the humans. Within minutes they had the pony righted. Boromir was beside himself with laughter as the removal of the pony exposed a wet and cold dwarf, his arms splayed out at his sides.

"Laugh will ye," Gimli's baritone carried around the party as other snickers and laughs broke out among the Fellowship. "'Well, don't just stand there, help me up Elf."

Legolas glanced at Boromir, who stepped back and smiled. Aragorn too moved away, his hands held up in the air in retreat. "The dwarf asked for you, dear elf."

"You are nimblest on your feet, and less likely to succumb to the snow. Hoist me up!" said the Dwarf to the elf as if the fair creature were an idiot.

The dwarf's logic was impeccable - and so Legolas spread his legs wide over the hole the pony had made over the dwarf and with a sigh, reached down and clasped his hands in the dwarf's. Boromir moved then, stepping to the elf's side and wrapped his arms around the being's middle, giving his strength. With a grunt, Legolas pulled the dwarf to a standing position, though to anyone outside the hole, it appeared the dwarf's position had not changed, so deep was the snow. His helm did not show near the top.

"Out! Get me out!" Gimli looked about at the faces staring down at him.

Aragorn moved to Legolas' left while Boromir stayed to the elf's right, they all leaned down, the dwarf taking the elf's hands directly, while the Gondorian and Ranger grabbed the dwarf's forearm.

"On three," Aragorn said.

On the count, they pulled back, hoisting the dwarf from the hole. Unfortunately snow did not possess the reliability of rock and the combined weight of the two humans, the elf and the dwarf caused the snow to collapse. Aragorn and Boromir fell of to the sides, while Legolas fell backward, the dwarf resting atop his chest. But the snow beneath them was weakening.

Boromir and Aragorn scrambled back up and pulled Gimli from the elf as Legolas rolled away and the snow collapsed where he had lain. Much to his dismay, the elf heard the hobbit's laughter and blushed inwardly. He moved away and up the incline.

"Master Elf!" Gimli called out.

Legolas paused on his way back up to where Mithrandir stood. He half turned and looked down at the dwarf.

"My thanks again. Your kind are as soft as they appear! I could not have chosen a better being to land upon."

Many retorts came to the elf's mind, most in elvish. He spoke them softly, with only Gandalf's ears to hear. But inward, he realized he wasn't as much mad as embarrassed. And the laughter would raise the spirits of the group. And, if he considered it seriously. it was good to hear Boromir laugh so hard.

~*~

The Fellowship stopped for lunch past midday. Gandalf lit his pipe and sat upon a cropping of rock free of snow. Boromir helped Sam and the halflings ready their fire beneath a granite overhang. Aragorn watched this with soft delight. It was good to see the Gondorian smile, and he had taken such care with the hobbits, never allowing them to fall behind or become lost. Frodo sat a little ways away, his arms around his knees which had been drawn up beneath his chest.

The Ranger moved to the Ring Bearer and sat beside him. The two were silent for a small space of time, then the hobbit looked up to his right at the human. "Do you..."

Aragorn raised his eyebrows in question. "Do I... believe we will succeed?"

Frodo nodded.

"Yes...and no. I have no answers, Frodo. I only know that we are here to help you in any way you wish us. We have pledged this. And we have a wizard on our side." He put his hand to the hobbit's back. Frodo arched away at first, then with a sigh, leaned in to the touch.

"I'm frightened...but the fear's not placed solely upon myself, but for all of us. For the Shire - for tomorrow. This," he patted his sternum where Aragorn knew the ring rested on a silver chain. "I feel it sometimes, Strider. In the dark, and this," he glanced down to a place over his left breast - where the Ring Wraith had left its mark. "It aches harder with every step I take."

"It is because of the Morgul poisoning, Frodo. Lord Elrond did what he could - but Gandalf has explained it to you. It will ache again, and it will take your breath away when the Nagûl approached. It will act as a warning." Aragorn hoped that was all the poison would do. He kept his voice low, so as not to alert any of the others to their conversation. Though he knew if Legolas had wanted to hear them, he could.

With the sudden thought of the elf, the Ranger realized he had not seen his old friend since they stopped. He leaned forward and looked to Gandalf, then on the other direction where they cooked.

"Legolas went that way," Frodo said, pointing behind them. "I saw him speak to Gandalf, then he moved past him."

Aragorn nodded and gave Frodo a soft smile and wink. Before he could move away, the hobbit put a hand on the Ranger's arm. Aragorn looked down at Frodo. "Yes?"

"You and Legolas...you have been friends a long time?"

"Aye...since I was twenty. Though my face and countenance has aged since that day, the elf has not changed a moment since our first meeting. He looks the same," Aragorn gave a smile to the hobbit, then a wink. "Except maybe his scowl. It seems to have deepened over the years."

Frodo gave an honest laugh, and the smile lit his face. "You trust one another - you would not be here without him?"

"These are strange questions, Frodo," Aragorn frowned. "Might I know the nature as to why you ask them?"

"It is Sam," Frodo looked past him to the rounder of the hobbits. "He would follow me anywhere, but because I care so much for him, I worry all the time. I feel it is my fault he is accompanying me into danger - and it's not his responsibility to bear. I fear for his life always."

"Sam made this choice on his own." The Ranger smiled, remembering again the antics of the hobbits at Elrond's Council, and how Samwise his been eves dropping, yet again. "He volunteered, same as Legolas. Same as Boromir - all of us are here because we wish it." He put a hand on Frodo's shoulder. "I care for Legolas. He is my brother. He and I have experienced much of life together - but he is also strong in his own right. As is Sam. Your friend is quite a resilient hobbit, Frodo Baggins. Give him time, and he will suprise us all."

His words seemed to reassure Frodo and Aragorn moved away from him in search of his oldest friend.

As he passed Gandalf, the wizard pointed to Aragorn's right, and the Ranger spotted the elf standing on the highest of the rock outcroppings. His bow was in his hand, and his gaze searched the perimeter. Even from this distance, Aragorn could see the elf was tense. Prepared. Alert.

The Ranger managed the snow and rock with only a little difficulty. Legolas turned and looked at him as he approached. "Legolas...do you hear something?"

The elf shook his head. "No...but I feel." Legolas turned and quickly crossed the few rocks between he and Aragorn. The elf's eyes were wide, his pupils fully dilated to see great distances. It was this difference that gave the Elven race a strange, bright-eyed appearance. "It's not something tangible...only it lurks in the back of my mind."

"More Crebain?"

The Elf shook his head. "This is something different - something stronger. A single pull. Not harried by thousands of others. I feel it's presence, not strong, but gathering."

Aragorn did not like it when Legolas had these feelings. Years of traveling with the elf as well as being raised by an Elven Lord had taught him their race was not prone to mis-understanding signs and portents. If the elf said something was near and watching - Aragorn shivered, though not from the cold.

Legolas still had his gaze fixed on the horizon. "We should be moving soon...I sense a storm."

Aragorn shielded his eyes against the sun as he looked where the elf peered. "Storm? It is clear skies for miles."

"There is a storm coming," he turned and moved past Aragorn, toward where Gandalf sat watching them.

"Legolas," Aragorn called out.

The elf returned to his side. His face was open and questioning, his pupils dilating back to their usual larger-than-usual size. "Strider?"

"About earlier...with Gimli. I meant no harm."

"None taken." A genuine smile broke the elf's stern expression. His dark eyebrows arched and he gripped the Dunadan's shoulder with his left hand. "Estel - it seems you are apologizing to me too much. Things are as they are. I hold no ill will. A dwarf is a dwarf. They are all the same, gruff in their bearing and tact-less in their tastes." He winked at Aragorn and then moved again away from him to the Wizard.

The Ranger looked back to where Legolas' attention had been so drawn. Still he could not see so far as to notice any clouds brewing. The sky was clear blue. Not even a hint of weather.

And yet, Aragorn knew the elf spoke the truth as another shiver took his shoulders and he returned to the others.

~*~

The storm came as they reached the dangerous path. Winds of ice cut through the mountain tops, all of it seemingly directed at the Company. Legolas stayed in the back, careful to give aid to any of those having trouble plowing through the waist high snow. The wind moved his hair wildly about his head, and though the cold did not touch him, the force of the air stung his eyes. He narrowed them in hopes of keeping the largest of the snow flakes from them. They flew fat and fast at them, many stinging like tiny rocks hurled from short distances, each precisely placed to give the most damage.

Gandalf lead them, using his staff to part the snow, hacking and moving as he slowly trudged on. Legolas chaffed at the delays in moving, his feet still resting atop the treacherous pass. Frodo disappeared once. Aragorn reached down and took the freezing hobbit into his arms, as the elf watched Boromir do the same for Merry and Pippin. Such a heart, so large and compassionate - the elf quailed inside at the thought of the darkness that threatened to poison it.

They moved along the mountain's edge, exposed to the weather. Something inside the wind rang inside Legolas' head. He winced outwardly and paused, cocking his head to his left shoulder. He looked out over the valley below, then moved his gaze to the ominous clouds above.

There is was again - a voice calling. No...commanding. The very sound of it set up internal alarms about his body and he fought the urge to draw bow and arrow, for they would do nothing against this sorcery.

For that is what it was. Magic of a darker kind.

He moved carefully around the line of the Nine - making every effort not to dislodge the others or distract them. To his right, mere inches from his nimble feet, was the ledge's edge, made thick from packed snow. He needed to hear the voice again - it came in and out, like something caught in the wind and taken away.

He moved past Gandalf at the front and stood on the outermost edge - and listened. There - deep, powerful, dark, brooding, malicious - the voice was strongest now as the wind picked up speed and force, as if the owner of the magic knew he listened and wanted to shove him from the mountain side.

"There is a foul voice on the air!" Legolas said this, not as a true shout, but enough for Mithrandir.

"It is Saruman," the Istari replied.

A crack above them sounded. Legolas looked up to see a cascade of snow fall, accompanied by a few rocks. They fell many yards away, and though they did not dislodge the company, it reminded them all of their peril and insignificance to this magic of nature.

"He is trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn said.

Gandalf stepped out, a few inches behind where Legolas stood. The wizard raised his hands, his staff in the air. He spoke into the wind and the elf heard Gandalf's words mix with the dark ones, and a fierce battle of magics began in the sky. Dark against light. The air charged with it and Legolas reacted, his body ridged as the magic worked, one against the other.

Another crack, lightening this time, struck the mountain above them. The ground shook beneath the elf's feet. He looked up to see the uppermost top give way, sending out a spray of boulders and snow. The shock triggered an avalanche. The elf saw the cascade begin. He looked to the others. All of them saw it and began moving in toward the mountain's wall.

All save for Gandalf. The Wizard's attention was focused on his magic battle with words on the wind.

Legolas moved as lightening. He turned and rushed the Istari, grabbing his arms and forcing him backward. The wizard's back slammed against the granite and stone wall. Legolas leaned in to protect the Istari as the snow fell upon them, drowning out the voice and the wind.

There was still light, and Legolas saw the Wizard's face beside him beneath the snow. Gandalf, his beard encrusted with ice, winked at the elf. With a nod, Legolas moved up, punching through the wall of snow and emerging on the other side.

All of the Company shook away the ice and the elf was glad to see there were no injuries. Though the hobbits' faces were red with windburn. They shivered uncontrollably in the arms of the men. This was not the path to take - perhaps if Saruman had not found them, their travels would have been easier.

Aragorn spoke of turning back. Boromir again brought up the gap, but Strider reminded them all that that way led close to Isengard, and the instrument of their present situation. Legolas' heart fell as again Gimli spoke of Moria.

The look on the wizard's face frightened the elf. Something terrified Mithrandir, and if an Istari could be set to fear - then the elf knew it was not something he wanted to face as well. Whatever it was inside those dark caverns. In an unexpected twist, the Wizard left the decision of direction to Frodo.

Legolas let out a moan of disapproval when the Ring Bearer named Moria as their destination.

Moria. Legolas did not wish to go back there. His gaze sought out Aragorn's in the snowy wind. The Ranger was watching the elf - his own expression reflecting what Legolas felt. Already the elf could feel the walls of those caverns draw in around him.

As the company turned to make their way back down the pass, the wizard turned to Legolas. The wind had eased, and the elf had not realized he was unmoving, his head hung to his chest, his gaze locked on nothing, and everything. He wasn't aware of any of this until Mithrandir placed a gentle hand on his arm and gave a soft tug.

"Come, son of Thranduil. We will pass through those dark places quickly. For your sake, as well as mine."

TBC