In the Ruins//Legolas

Chapter 31; Those Who Cannot Die

"What kind of army would linger in such a place?" Gimli grumbled. The four of them stood in front of the entrance into the mountain. Aragorn and Gimli both shifted uneasily, as if feeling the unfriendliness of the place. The mountain didn't have the same effect on the two elves accompanying them.

"One that is cursed." Legolas spoke with a steady voice. "Long ago the men of the mountains swore an oath to the last King of Gondor to come to his aid, to fight. But when the time came, when Gondor's need was dire, they fled, vanishing into the darkness of the mountain. And so Isildur cursed them, never to rest until they had fulfilled their pledge. Who shall call them from the gray twilight, the forgotten people? The heir of him to whom the oath they swore. From the North shall he come, need shall drive him. He shall pass the door to the Paths of the Dead."

"The very warmth of my blood seems stolen away." The dwarf mumbled under his breath. They reached the doors to the Paths of the Dead. There is an inscription above it written in elvish.

"The way is shut." Durion reads. "It was made by those who are dead and the dead keep it. The way is shut." Suddenly, a gust of wind rushes at them. They shield their faces and their horses spook. "Woah!" Durion calls at his horse, but the animal rears and rips its reins from his hold.

"Brego!" Aragorn tries to calm his steed, but the horses blot. Gimli looks after them, alarmed. "I do not fear death!" Aragorn shouts, more to himself than anyone else, and stomps into the fog of the doors. Legolas and Durion share an excited smile and jog after him.

"Well this is a thing unheard of. An elf will go underground, where a dwarf dare not. Oh. Oh, I'd never hear the end of it." They hear Gimli follow. They catch up to Aragorn, who is already holding a lit torch and leads them. They make a turn and suddenly the walls are littered with human skulls. Aragorn doesn't pay them much attention, but Durion and Legolas stop to stare at them. Durion sees pale green wisps moving through the shadows, never straying too far from the bones.

"What is it? What do you see?" Gimli huffed at the two elves.

"I see shapes of men and of horses." Legolas says and Durion turns his head in the direction of Legolas' gaze. There he sees the green silhouettes.

"Where?!"

"Pale banners like shreds of cloud. Spears rise like winter thickets through a shroud of mist. The dead are following. They have been summoned." Legolas states ominously.

"The dead? Summoned? I knew that! Huh." Gimli turns, looking around warily. "Very good. Very good. Legolas!" He shouts after them when he realizes they've moved further. Durion feels something reach for his arm, something cold. He quickly turns to look down and sees one ghostly hand wrapped around his wrist, though when he pulls, he has no trouble getting free. Others too shuffle around as ghostly hands reach for them. Gimli even tries to blow one away. There is a crunch under Aragorn's foot and they stop dead.

"Do not look down." He warns them. They look down. They are not surprised to see more bones. They continue on until they reach an open space. Aragorn swings his torch around, trying to see through the thick darkness.

"Who enters my domain?" Deep voice speaks behind them. There is no one. Durion feels a shiver run down his spine. A ghost forms in front of them. His flesh is rotting off, his hair long, loose and unkept. He wears a crown. Aragorn steps forward.

"One who will have your allegiance."

"The dead do not suffer the living to pass." Even the ghost's voice sounds wispy.

"You will suffer me!" The ghost, King of the Dead, laughs. As the menacing laughter rings through the open space, thousands more ghosts suddenly appear all around them. They are surrounded.