Last of a Race: A Legolas Greenleaf fiction

Caradhras

The Fellowship trudged up the mountain, snow covered every inch of their path and Ora frowned at the young hobbits, who seemed to be suffering the cold far worse than anyone else.

Being a Wolf Walker, Ora's body was always naturally warmer than most creatures'. So even though she did feel the cold of the snow and ice, it didn't bother her as much.

Which was good, since she never wore shoes, or appropriate attire.

Her bare feet made tracks through the snow. And she gave the young, freezing hobbits another pitiful glance.

"I believe our halflings are going to freeze to death before we reach our destination." She called out to Gandalf, who stopped and turned to stare at her. "I'll keep them warm, don't worry." She replied to her own comment.

The fellowship, minus Aragorn, gave her curious glances as she stretched out her body. Slowly, her form changed until a large, black furred wolf the size of a horse, stood before them.

"Sidle up close to her flank young hobbits, she'll keep you warm." Aragorn told them with a smile.

The hobbits looked hesitant but obeyed and were happy to find that she was indeed quite warm.

Aragorn remembered faintly, nights when he was a young child and he would beg Ora to let him cuddle her wolf form. As she was always soft and warm.

Suddenly Frodo lost his footing, and tumbled backwards in a rolling motion down the hillside. Ora turned, ready to leap after him, but Frodo was caught by Aragorn.

"Frodo!" Aragorn cried as he heaved the hobbit to his feet.

Frodo seemed to be relieved that he was safe, and not tumbling down the edge of the mountain, until he reached towards his neck and became aware that the chain he wore around his neck, to carry the One Ring, had slipt off.

He looked back up the slope, from which he had fallen, and sees the ring glistening in the sun. All eyes turn towards it as Boromir reaches down and snatches it up in his hand.

"Boromir." Aragorn says quietly, his hand slipping to the hilt of his sword.

Boromir ignores him, as he looks at the ring with both fascination and desire. The three other hobbits dig their fingers into Ora's fur, as she looks to Boromir and releases a soft warning growl.

Boromir reaches as if he would stroke the ring. "It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt...over so small a thing. Such a little thing." He speaks in a reverent tone.

"Boromir!" Aragorn cries louder, breaking Boromir's attention from the ring, just as Ora flattens her ears against her head and bares her teeth, ready to take the ring from Boromir by force. "Give the ring to Frodo." Aragorn instructs, his grasp on his sword hilt tightening.

Boromir stares at Ora and then Aragorn before he strides down the slope towards Frodo. "As you wish." He holds the ring out towards the hobbit. Frodo snatches the ring away and almost heaves a sigh of relief as he puts the chain around his neck again. "I care not." Boromir tousles Frodo's curly hair with a smile and turns to walk back up the mountain.

•••

A blizzard had descended on them. Aragorn was carrying Frodo through the waist deep snow as Boromir carried Sam. Merry and Pip had been hoisted onto Ora's back moments earlier, and were crouched low against her fur as she struggled to manoeuvre in the deepening snow.

Ora looked at Legolas and wished she had the light treading of the elves as he skipped ahead of them, giving her a wink as he walked atop the snow.

Legolas stopped and seemed to be listening to something, so Ora strained her ears, catching the voice on the wind.

"Cuiva nwalca Carnirasse; nai yarvaxea rasselya!" Came the deep sounding chant, that was carried to them by the wind.

Ora growled and Pip wrapped his arms around her neck, not desiring to be blown off her back by the increasing winds. She could feel Merry moving to hold tight to Pip, also not wanting to be thrown off her.

Legolas looked back at them all. "There is a fell voice on the air!" He shouted over the howling, bitter winds.

"Its Saruman!" Gandalf shouted back.

A large and deep resounding crack is heard above them, large chunks of the mountainside fall towards the Fellowship, barely missing any of them as they all pressed themselves flat against the rocky side of the mountain.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain! Gandalf, we must turn back!" Aragorn yelled.

"No!" Gandalf replied loudly as he stepped forward. "Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith!" Gandalf chants with determination, trying to counteract Saruman. The wizard's voice is drowned out by a more terrible cry in the maelstrom as Saruman elicits the anger of the mountain.

Ora crouches low into the snow, fearing what is about to happen, as she can sense strong magic in play.

She watches in despair as a bolt of lightening strikes the top of the mountain, sending a cascade of snow down on them in an avalanche. Just before the snow hits them, she feels the two young hobbits on her back grab onto her with all their strength. Suddenly the snow hits, and all are buried under its magnitude.

Its only moments before everyone fights their ways back above the snow and Ora is dismayed when she surfaces and finds Merry and Pip have been pushed off her. She quickly digs her snout into the the snow before grabbing the two hobbits one by one, in her jaws and pulling them to safety. They cling tightly to her, both shivering so hard she fears they will freeze.

Boromir looks at them each in turn. "We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!"

Aragorn is quick to pipe up against the idea. "The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!"

"If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it. Let us go through the mines of Moria." Gimli offers, and Ora knows he longs to show them the kindness and wonders of his people.

Ora catches Gandalf's eyes. She knows and recognises the fear there, for she too, knows what was awoken in Moria. She knows what lies deep in depths, and she does not wish to face it.

Everyone in the fellowship was cold, and half frozen. The hobbits seemed to be suffering the most, and Merry and Pip were pale white. Ora feared they would not make it off the mountain alive, even though she was trying desperately to keep them warm.

Gandalf looked to Frodo. "Let the Ring bearer decide."

"We cannot stay here! This will be the death of the Hobbits!" Boromir shouted at Gandalf, and for once, Ora was in complete agreement with the human.

"Frodo?" Gandalf asked, ignoring Boromir's pleas.

Frodo looks at Merry and Pip, noting their half frozen forms. "We will go through the mines."

Gandalf closes his eyes and sighs. "So be it." He says softly.