The Lady of Rivendell

Chapter 6

It was dark and gloomy at the base of the mountain, the stone walls reaching high and closer to a shade of black than the normal grey they should've been, but at least there was no snow or biting wind.

"The Walls of Moria," Gimli admired and he led the way around a pool of dark water to the walls themselves that were covered in tree roots and ivy.

Gandalf brushed his hand across the stone, revealing an Elvish word that told him that it mirrors only starlight and moonlight.

And a cool breeze had the clouds shifting as the light of the moon shone down on them, and Allora's eyes closed as she took in the light, the moonlight, the light of the evening star, the light of peace.

The rock glowed as a doorway was illuminated on it along with more inscriptions as Gandalf began to read it in an effort to get the door to open. "It reads, 'the Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.'"

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry wondered.

"Oh, it's quite simple," Gandalf said, albeit a little too quickly. "If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open." He then held his staff to the centre of the door as he chanted, "Annon Edhellen, edro hi ammen."

The doors remained closed.

Gandalf then tried pushing on the stone wall as Allora sighed. "This may take a while."

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Allora was growing tired of sitting and waiting as Gandalf chanted at the door. She didn't know how long they'd sat there for, but it was long enough for the hoofbeats of the horse they'd set free to fade completely from her Elven ears and still long enough for Legolas to completely redo the braid that held back half her hair. When he had first presented his friend and Lady with the request to braid her hair, he was questioned why and he answered with two reasons. One was out of pure boredom, and the other was so that it didn't get into her face when the real battles came, for they had no way of knowing what they might face in the mines.

"Alright," Allora announced as she stood, Legolas barely having the time to secure her braid before she did so. "Let me try my luck."

"The door is magic, I am afraid," said a defeated Gandalf as Aragorn warned the Hobbits not to disturb the water by throwing rocks into it. "Unless you have the correct phrase, they are impossible to open."

The Lady of the Elves rolled her eyes. "That's the problem with the male species. Always so eager to use brute force, to use every muscle, every limb, every ability, except for your brain," she said as she ran her hand along the stone, tilting her head back to get a better look at the Elvish inscribed on the arch of the door when a thought struck her. "Legolas," she called as she turned to look at him, a hand still on the rock.

"Yes, Milady?" he replied, already standing before the sound of his name even left her lips and she rolled her eyes at the use of her many titles. They were friends, and especially in this capacity on a suicidal quest, she was not above him. And yet, even after she'd told him this many times, he continued to do it, but now it was because he knew it irked her. 

"Do you think that if the inscription is written in Elvish, then perhaps-"

"You must speak friend in Elvish," he interrupted in the common tongue as he finished her train of thought, marvelling at her. "It's a riddle."

"What's the Elvish word for friend?" Frodo asked as he stood from where he was sitting next to Gandalf, only understanding half of the conversation that was spoken in the common tongue, but it was enough for him to understand where they were going with this.