The last thing Legolas witnessed before he fell from sight into the deep, blackness of the volcanic shaft was the look of sheer horror upon Aragorn’s face.

          Oh, Aragorn, he thought miserably.  You will think this your fault somehow and it is not, mellon nin.  I only wish I could spare you that guilt and anguish.  My death is my own.

          As he plummeted toward his certain demise a strange, serene calmness swept over him and he smiled slightly as he gazed up at the stars that were just beginning to shine in the darkening skies so far above his head.  Somehow he had always thought he would outlive Aragorn; see him crowned King of Gondor one day; be at his side when he grew old.  But now he would never see his friend again this side of the Halls of Mandos and it saddened him greatly.

          He believed these melancholy thoughts to be his last; consequently, when he then unexpectedly landed atop a resilient mound that broke his fall and bounced slightly instead of being splattered upon the jagged rocks and breaking his back, he was momentarily disoriented.  Then he was rolling and sliding down the side of this mass toward the rock floor below.  The Elf tried to grasp onto something to arrest his fall, but he could gain no purchase and eventually dropped to the ground, still rolling, until he came to rest flat upon his stomach, his face in the dirt and dust of the cavern floor.  Unhurt, although a bit bruised and quite dusty, he rose up to his knees and slowly gazed about the dimly lit cavern he had fallen into.

          Elf and dragon stared at one another snout to nose.  In the thousands of years that Legolas had lived he had never been as terrified as he was at this moment.  Even the unforeseen encounter with the balrog hundreds of years ago, paled before this monster.  The Elf was petrified as he stared into the huge, intelligent yellow-gold eyes of this beast.  And then, incredulously, the dragon spoke to him.

          “You are the nauraug*?” it asked, moving its massive head closer to the prince, nostrils flaring as it breathed in his scent.

          Thankful that he had not been eaten, or worse, reduced to smoldering ashes, Legolas was nevertheless taken aback by the question and somehow intuitively knew that the answer he gave to this inquiry could very well mean his life or death.   It wants to know if I am the fire demon?  Fire being? What ‘fire being’? he wondered.

          Deciding it would be best not to try and deceive this creature, Legolas simply replied.“I am an Elf.”

          The dragon raised her huge head and looked the prince over from side to side as he slowly rose to his feet in front of her great bulk.  Her appraisal complete, she lowered her face to confront him at eye level once again and stared deeply into his blue eyes.  “I see your fire.  It surrounds you.”

          Ah, he mused.  She sees my Elf glow.

          Legolas had routinely made a habit of suppressing his natural aura when around beings other than Elves, but his instincts were now telling him that he should not resist the dragon’s probing and should open himself up completely, allowing the creature to recognize his inner soul and the light within him.  He inhaled slowly and deeply and then exhaled, relaxing his body and allowing the firebreather to experience the full power and force of his psyche.

          The dragon pulled back as the halo surrounding the Elf grew in strength and brightness until the entire cavern was lit in a soft, white glow.  The beast snorted loudly and blinked her great yellow eyes, and then she lowered her head to Legolas’ feet.

          “You are the Calar,”** the beast stated.  “I am the Flametalker, keeper of the histories of my kindred, guardian of my race.  I await your reckoning.”

          The Elf’s eyebrow rose and he looked down at the great beast’s head hovering a few inches from his feet.  He had no idea what the dragon was referring to by these words, and not quite sure what to do next, he tentatively placed his hands upon the dragon’s head and allowed his aura to encircle her face.  Both Elf and dragon stood immobile for several moments and then Legolas could feel a tingling shock travel through his fingertips and up his arms.  The dragon must have felt the same sensation for she shivered slightly and pulled back away from his hands.

          Suddenly she jerked her head upward and her jaws opened wide, exposing rows of spiked teeth.  Legolas froze.  He was certain he had obviously done the wrong thing by touching her and was now about to be eaten alive, but the dragon whipped her head around and snapped viciously at the irritating crossbow shaft still embedded within her back.

          Legolas let out a frightened, ragged breath and tried to get his racing heart back under control.  Cautiously he moved closer to the dragon’s body and looked up at the cross bolt shaft that had been fired from the human war machine.  It was caught under her wing and to the side of her spine.

          “I am not a healer among my people,” he said.  “But I do have some experience with battle wounds.”  He stepped closer and placed his hand upon the dragon’s heaving ribcage.  “If you will allow me to try, I will attempt to remove it.”

          The dragon hesitated only a moment and then once again rolled over onto her side and stretched out her great wing.  Legolas lightly stepped up upon the wing and she lifted the limb up until it was level with her wide back.  The Elf warily walked across the surface of the giant wing and then carefully stepped onto her broad back.  With one foot placed upon her hip and the other on her spine, he firmly grasped the wooden bolt and yanked it from the dragon’s flesh; once it was clear of her wing, he tossed it to the ground below.

          The creature screeched with pain as the shaft came loose and Legolas had to crouch down upon her back to keep from sliding off her side.  Her huge head whipped around and faced the Elf across her back.  Legolas could feel her hot breath washing over his cheeks and his blond hair flew about his head in the slight wind currents caused by her breathing.  His heart pounded within his chest as he faced the beast before him.   The thought of being burned alive was not a pleasant one and he feared that it might yet be his fate, but the dragon merely lowered her snout and sniffed at the bleeding wound.  Slowly and carefully her long tongue flicked over the scales and lapped at the open injury until the bleeding stopped and the rigid plates moved in to close over the puncture.

          Still crouched upon her back, Legolas kept a wary eye upon the beast’s head as he gingerly rose to his feet.  It was then that he noticed the huge iron collar fastened around the dragon’s neck.  The band was covered with signs and symbols that were indecipherable to the Elf, but even so seemed somehow familiar.  The characters were deeply etched into the black metal and Legolas surmised they were morgul in nature.  He could suddenly feel the darkness and evil issuing forth from the iron ring and he instinctively backed away.

          He looked into the eyes of the dragon and asked. “Why do you wear this foul collar?”

          The dragon’s head rose upward and an angry growl rumbled deep within her throat.  She tossed her black head from side to side and small wisps of smoke snorted from her nose.  Her yellow eyes glowed with a rage barely kept in check and the black irises within the golden pools narrowed to thin slits as she hissed and spat.  Even though Legolas was still standing upon her flank, she rolled upright onto her belly and flapped her great wings raising dust clouds and a great rushing wind.

          It was all Legolas could do to stand straight upon her roiling back.  His lithe form slid first one way and then the other until he eventually came to a stumbling halt between her massive wings.  When she finally settled her bulk down upon the floor once more, she glanced over her back at the Elf and chuffed loudly before moving her head in closer to his face.

          “The keeper has placed this binding collar upon me, forcing me to do his bidding, for if I do not, he will slay my children and I shall be lost and alone, the last of my race.”

          Legolas frowned.  “Is that why you have been destroying the forests of my home?”

          The dragon’s head tilted slightly and then drifted upward and away from the Elven prince upon her back.  “The woods are of no consequence to me, only my young ones.  If they are to survive, I must obey Lord Udûn, the Flame of the Balrogs.”

          The Elf stepped forward along the dragon’s spine and placed his hand upon the black collar.  Immediately he withdrew it as the evil presence of the demon could be felt emanating from the metal.  He glanced up at the creature’s quizzical face hanging above him.

          “And if I remove it?” he asked.

          The beast’s eyes narrowed and she studied Legolas with a crafty intelligence that surprised the fair being.  Her hot breath blew out over the Elf’s head and he could smell the sulfurous fumes issuing from her lungs.

          “I would be free,” the dragon replied.

          Yes, he thought, and under no one’s control.  Dare I take this chance and free her, or will I only unleash more destruction upon my people and the rest of Middle Earth?

          Most of his arrows had been spent in the earlier battle with the dragon, or were lost when he fell into the shaft and he had no idea what had become of his bow; however, his Elven long knives were still snuggly nestled within their leather sheaths upon his back.  He reached up over his shoulder and grasped one of the white knives, gracefully sliding it out of its leather casing.  He tentatively set the tip of the silver blade into the locking mechanism on the iron collar and tried to twist the metal piece free of the band.

          As soon as the Elven metal touched the black band a white hot flash of energy exploded from the collar.  The force of the bolt knocked Legolas backward and off of the dragon’s back and he found himself sailing through the air.  He landed hard upon the rock floor several feet from the dragon, stunned and dizzy.  His entire body was tingling and his fingertips stung as if they had been burned.  Queasy and still lightheaded, Legolas shakily stood erect and looked back at the firebreather.  The symbols etched upon the iron band around the dragon’s neck were now glowing a fiery red, but the beast did not seem to be harmed.

          “So much for that,” the Elf muttered as he dusted off his leggings and sore backside.  Then looking about the cavern, he spotted several large flat boulders.  He motioned to the rocks and asked. “Can you place your neck across these stones?   I may be able to shatter the lock upon the rock’s surface.”

          The dragon did not appear overly convinced, yet she swung her head over to the large stones and settled her neck across the rocks until the metal band lay flat upon the surface of the rock.  She then froze and held her head and neck still.  The metal sealing ring lay horizontally upon the stone and Legolas once again raised his knife.  This time he held the weapon with both hands and concentrated all his effort into one smashing blow.  The blade tip crashed down onto the iron lock and sparks flew outward as yet another energy bolt shot forth from the collar, but not before the locking ring shattered into numerous brittle pieces.

          After the blow had been delivered, Legolas jumped back and away from the collar avoiding a second sizzling jolt from the collar’s morgul spell.  Replacing his knife as he walked forward toward the beast, he quickly clasped the ends of the iron band and pulled them free of the dragon’s neck.  The huge metal ring fell to the ground with a dull clang.

          The monster rose up upon her hind legs, roaring in triumph and spread her wings outward as her head arched upward.  Legolas watched her with a mixture of awe and fear, not knowing what would happen next.  He took several steps backward and away from the beast, preparing to flee if he could find some means of escape, but the dragon slowly lowered her head back down to his face again and looked resolutely into his blue eyes.

          “Now you will free my hatchlings,” she stated.

          Legolas took a few cautious moments to collect his thoughts before answering, unsure how to respond to this new demand.  Finally he spread his arms wide and gestured about the cavern, employing a delaying tactic.  “I see no way to climb out of this cavern.  I cannot free them if I am trapped here.”

          “You shall ride upon my back,” the beast answered.  “Udûn holds them captive within Gundabad.  We go there now to free them.”

          The thought of riding a dragon was at once exhilarating and terrifying and Legolas was not sure if he was quite up to this challenge.  Yet it did seem to be the only way he would be able to escape this crevice.  The sheer walls towering overhead did not offer any hand or foot holds that he could see, and he had not seen any opening in the rocks that might lead him through the mountain’s interior and then out onto the plains.

          “I cannot swear to you that I can save the young ones,” the Elf stated.  “But I will do all that I can to rescue them.”  He paused.  “However, you must do something for me in return.”

          The beast stirred angrily and her wings flexed out and back along her sides.  “What do you ask?” the dragon questioned.

          “You must cease the destruction of the forestlands of Mirkwood,” Legolas stated.  “And before we travel to Gundabad, I must first return to my kinsmen.”

          The dragon growled with restless frustration, her tail twitching and slashing behind her.  Her agitated wings flapped and roiled the dust and debris within the fissure and her massive talons scratched at the rock surface digging out slight grooves within the stone.  Eventually the beast ceased her writhing protest and glared at the Elf.

          “Very well,” the dragon reluctantly agreed.

          Legolas approached the beast and once again she lowered her wing for him to stand upon.  He easily climbed up the bony edge and then once astride her shoulders, lowered his body down onto her back, tucking the calves of his legs under her wings.   He gripped the hard ridges along her neck and tried to convince himself that riding this dragon was no different than riding Astalder—just bigger—much bigger.  He could feel the dragon’s muscles tense under him, and then she sprang upward into the air and he felt the soaring wind flying across his face as she shot up through the mountain shaft and out into the gray skies of the early dawn.

*fire demon/being

**Lamp of Light/Illuminator