Feä Bond (Legolas x OC)

The path of the dead

Silent volutes of ghostly smoke rose before the unhealthy cave. Even the twins' banter had ceased, killed by the creepiness of the place. Now the whole group of rangers stood in front of what seemed the mountain's mouth. The hole was dark enough to be a bottomless well, or a burial pit; would it swallow them entirely, never to see the light again ?

Not to say that the light was very attractive either. From the moment the day rose the whole valley had been bathed in a blank filtered light. It was exactly the kind of weather that made Frances feel claustrophobic, like a blanket that prevented her from breathing. The mere thought of getting inside this cave was, however, much worse, and even the horses were tense. They had dismounted to approach the entrance further, the rangers keeping a tight hand on the reins.

Aragorn, in all his chieftain's glory, refused to be intimidated, and he turned to his companions with a resolved expression.

"My blood runs chills," muttered Gimli.

"This is an evil door," said Halbarad, his face set in a displeased frown. "My death lies beyond it."

Frances rolled her eyes at the sudden theatrics. Still, she had to admit that the ranger had a point. Her knees trembled, and it wasn't from the pain. Riding behind Elladan had, so far, quite protected her thigh from the strain.

"No horse will enter," came Halbarad's conclusion.

To this, Aragorn glanced at the loyal steeds that had borne them until there. The beasts were terrified, their eyes darting in all directions, tail restlessly chasing at imaginary moths. Yet, they could not afford to leave them.

"The horses must go too, for if ever we come through this darkness, many leagues lie beyond. Follow me."

Then, he strode into the darkness, his hand holding firm at the leash of his steed. And surprisingly, the horse followed. Stunned, the young woman watched as one by one, the rangers disappeared under the arch of this accursed mountain. Such was the strength of Aragorn's will! Very soon, she was left with the twins, Legolas and Gimli. Their Rohirrim steed, Arod, was trembling in fear and refused to move. Frances' heart went to the beast. She was, herself, quite ready to faint such was the evil vibe of the passage. Then, Legolas laid a hand on the horse's eyes, and started singing softly in elvish. The beauty of his lullaby eventually soothed the animal, so much that he allowed the elf to lead him into the cave. Frances watched him as his light disappeared into the nothingness under the mountain. Somehow, his soft words had settled her heart as well. Elven magic, surely.

"Let us follow," said Elrohir, gesturing for her to lead on.

Behind her, Elladan was lighting up a torch. And further away was Gimli's stricken face. Frances straightened, and took a few steps forward. Her heart raced, but she refused to back down. Now was not the time to give Halbarad reasons to believe her weak. Right in front of her, the faint light of Legolas was already starting to disappear. Stumbling in the pitch dark hole, Frances shuddered. She never wanted that light to fade. Nor physically, nor literally.

It was the first time since they departed that she had laid eyes upon the elf again. Legolas had kept his distances from her ever since the argument with Halbarad. The prince had made no secret that he reproved her behaviour, even if he had not voiced any reproaches. She was grateful for this; Frances did not know how she might have handled his disappointment. Sometimes, Legolas's old age showed through a wisdom that could be quite overwhelming. Still, the young lady felt his absence by her side. Maybe it was for the best. Frances' close bond with the twins had kept her mind occupied. Mostly. But it was a tremendous effort to manage to keep her mind of him for more than mere seconds in a row.

The low ceiling was quickly getting on her nerves. There was barely enough light to make out the ground, even with Elladan's torch. Still, the company progressed swiftly. Terror was quickly getting a hold on Frances. She refused to let panic take control of her body, but her laboured breathing had all three elven companions worried. After the encounters with the Nazgul, it was not the incredible feeling of dread and impending doom that affected her the most. Forces of darkness were using that trick too much for their own sake, and even her weak human's soul could resist this after the hardships of her past.