AVALANCHE

Chapter 18 --- The Flame Imperishable

"I don't like the sound of it," Pippin said.

"It doesn't rhyme with much, and that's a fact," mused Sam. "Euphoria, maybe, but not much else I can think of. Be hard to work it into a song."

The Company was walking along a bleak, rock-strewn path toward the high cliffs that Gandalf had called the doors of Moria. Frodo had decided that riding Bill was perhaps not such a good idea after all, and for awhile he was able to keep to a fair enough pace using his new walking stick. Gimli and Legolas were walking just behind the hobbits, and Aragorn, Boromir, and Gandalf were further ahead.

"Ah, but the true name is Khazad-Dûm," said Gimli, trying to be helpful. "Many are the tales and songs of that ancient realm."

"Yes," said Sam. "That's better. Bloom, room.."

"Fume, gloom..." added Merry.

"Cracks of Doom," said Frodo with a grin.

"I'm sorry I mentioned it," grumbled Gimli.

Legolas clapped Gimli on the shoulder. "Perhaps now we know why your people keep their secrets, and their language, to themselves, Gimli."

"Aye," Gimli nodded. "I knew there was deep wisdom at the heart of it."

By mid-afternoon, even after several rest stops, Frodo had begun to wish he was riding, after all. He was about to ask if the Company could take another brief halt when Pippin came to walk at his side.

"Frodo?" asked Pippin quietly.

"Yes?"

"How did it get out?" Pippin was looking down, fumbling for words. "The Ring, I mean. It was tucked under your.." He lowered his voice, remembering that the mithril coat was a secret. "... coat and all, and shirt, and vest, and jacket, and cloak -- awfully secure, I would think. Is it.. alive?"

Frodo had been thinking about this very thing.

"It's not exactly alive," he said thoughtfully, "but it's connected to the Dark Lord somehow. I suppose it's pulled toward anything or anyone that might help it get back to where it came from." He sighed. "It's a bit beyond me, Pip. You'd have to ask Gandalf, I suppose."

Pippin grinned. "Every time I get near Gandalf, he thinks I'm after his staff again."

"Are you?"

"Well, not every time."

Frodo took a few more steps, impatient with his growing weariness after only a few hours of walking. A bit lightheaded, he stumbled, and the walking stick slipped out of his grasp. He clutched at Pippin's cloak. "Would you ask if we can stop for a bit?" he whispered.

"Strider!" Pippin called instantly. "Frodo needs a rest."

"I said 'ask', Pip," Frodo sighed. He felt Legolas's arm around him, steering him over to one of the flat boulders that lined their path. The Elf pushed Frodo down gently and sat beside him.

"I'm all right," said Frodo, leaning gratefully against the Elf. "I just need a moment..."

Gandalf looked about, gauging the distance yet to be traveled. "Aragorn," he said quietly. "We must reach the cliffs before nightfall."

"I know." Aragorn walked quickly to where Frodo was sitting. "That's enough walking for today, Frodo. Legolas, would you take his pack?" He lifted the hobbit into his arms.

"No," Frodo murmured. "Aragorn, no."

"I am sorry, Frodo, but we cannot stop yet." Aragorn held Frodo securely and resumed walking. "Are you in pain?"

"Just a little tired," said Frodo. "A bit dizzy, still."

Aragorn could feel the small body trembling with weariness. "You have done very well, better than I had hoped; but you must not overdo it. You have earned a rest."

"Just a short rest, then," Frodo sighed. "And no more of that... sleep drink..." He closed his eyes, and Aragorn felt him sag a bit in his arms.

"I doubt you will need it this time, little one," the Man said softly.

*~*~*~*~*

"Mellon!"

Frodo opened his eyes, startled to find himself in Boromir's arms. Daylight had faded into a darkening twilight. The Company was at the base of a high, sheer cliff, now splitting in two before his eyes. Boromir chuckled and lowered him to the ground.

"Are you feeling better, Frodo?"

"Yes," said Frodo, trying to orient himself. "Moria," he murmured.

"Aye," said Gimli. "You have seen a city of the Elves, young hobbits." His eyes gleamed with pride. "But the majesty of Khazad-Dûm awaits. What the Dwarves have achieved here, you will not soon forget."

Legolas tried to find a comfortable position on the uneven stones. It had been less than a day, and already the cold stillness of Moria seemed to cling oppressively to him. He longed to be free of this place, once again able to breathe clean air and bathe in gentle starlight. At least here, in this passage, a distant sliver of pale light filtered down to where they sat.

Only Gimli and Gandalf seemed unaffected by the unfathomable weight of stone and mountain atop them, but Legolas suspected that Gimli was feeling a greater weight than anyone, save Frodo. With the death of so many, a great number surely of Gimli's own family, must have come a shattered belief in the invincibility of his people. Legolas's own concern seemed to him trivial compared to what was happening around them.

The Elf's sigh brought Gandalf out of his thoughts. They were seated together, watching over their companions settling down for a few hours' sleep.

"Speak, my friend," the wizard said quietly. "What troubles you?"

Legolas turned to him. "It is such a small thing, Mithrandir, but I find that I am unable to forget it." He hesitated, then went on. "Frodo told me of a dream he had, in which he saw me... 'lit up'. I would like to understand what he truly saw."

"You suspect it was more than a dream."

"Yes. It occurred when he was injured and in such distress. His life force was weak; I could feel it. I do not know precisely what happened between us then, but it was a powerful experience for us both. Afterwards, I learned..." Legolas sighed again. "Frodo saw Glorfindel ablaze with light. I understand that at that moment Frodo was near death, perhaps as near as a mortal can come to it and yet recover."

"And you are wondering if, at both times, his closeness to mortal death enabled Frodo to see something unusual in both of you?"

"There is much about Frodo that is extraordinary, and he may indeed have seen Glorfindel as he truly is. But Glorfindel is of the Eldar, while I..." Legolas shook his head. "Perhaps a dream is all Frodo experienced, after all. Something comforting in a difficult moment."

The wizard was silent for some time. He pulled his cloak tighter about himself.

"What do you know, Legolas, of the Flame Imperishable?"

"Only that which all are taught. It is the essence of all life, extending from Ilúvatar to the Ainur, and sent forth to bring Eä into being." The Elf frowned. "When you brought forth fire from your staff, I wondered..."

"Ah," the wizard murmured. "Forgive me, my friend, but of that which I serve, I cannot speak freely." He turned his penetrating gaze on the Elf. "I can tell you, however, that the animating spark resides within us all. Glorfindel has been tempered by Ages of learning and hard-won wisdom; also, he is of Valinor, and is ever a part of that Blessed Realm. Of him, more than most, the Light is only thinly concealed, and can be seen by those who can perceive such things."

"Such as Frodo," Legolas whispered.

"I have long known it," said the wizard. "Frodo has been gifted with dreams of great clarity, and a perception given to few mortals. But any can perceive this Light, given enough time and effort..." His eyes fell on Sam, curled protectively around Frodo. "... or single-minded love or devotion."

Gandalf turned his gaze back to Legolas. "You extended your life force to Frodo's, thinking only of his well-being and not your own. Frodo's defenses are very strong, Legolas, built at great cost to withstand the terror and the Shadow that stalks him; but for a brief time, as his Light was steadied by your own, he was able to find a moment of rest. Something deep within him recognized this priceless gift, which he remembered only as a gentle light in a peaceful dream."

A slow, joyous smile lighted the Elf's face. "I would like to see this Light," he whispered.

Gandalf nodded slowly. "The Shadow spreads, but Light and hope remain. They are found in the most unlikely of places."

"And people." Legolas's gaze fell on the hobbits, three of whom were now sound asleep. Pippin was squirming around between Merry and Frodo, trying to get comfortable. The young hobbit saw the Elf watching him and he ducked down quickly, an unusually mischievous look on his face.

"Peregrin Took," chuckled Gandalf. "The Flame Incorrigible."

"That imp will keep you young, Mithrandir."

"Or make me old." The wizard abruptly looked around, frowning. "Legolas?"

"Yes?"

"Have you seen my staff?"

** TBC **