THE RED RIDER ; lord of the rings {legolas} ✔

Chapter VIII

Chapter VIII

For the first couple days, it was a rather grim walk between skeletons and damp rock. The horrible smell of death pressed around the whole Fellowship, and I kept thinking I was hearing the vague drumming of goblins, but I knew it was only my imagination. I spent lots of time worrying about Guldurelon and hoping that he could still follow us down the mountain range and that he could find a path through to the other side, closer to Lothlórien. I was still feeling regret about my argument with Legolas before the avalanche, and though I was fairly certain that he had known it was my temper - he was the kind of person to understand far more than you hoped - I still felt bad for snapping at him.

On the third day, we began making our way up a long, steep, slippery staircase. The Hobbits were looking around the dark mine with dampened spirits, and I myself was feeling repressed by the shadows and oddly silent air.

We reached the top of the staircase open to three passageways, all of which were looking just as dark as the pit we had just exited. I had no idea which way to turn, and I looked at Gandalf for aid, since I had started leading the way while the others supported the Hobbits and Gandalf had taken the rear.

The wizard, however, looked at each doorway and said, "I have no memory of this place."

The rest of the Fellowship climbed up the rest of the staircase and onto the small landing that was occupied by several jagged rocks. Gandalf sat upon one of these rocks and stared at each of the doorways.

Frodo lingered by the edge, seemingly looking down at something either on the cliffside or down in the Dwarf cemetary below, but Boromir led him aside. The young Hobbit leaned on the rock beside Gandalf and they began talking in low voices.

Merry and Pippin sat in the corner, also speaking quietly, and Boromir and Aragorn stood nearest to the edge. Mira sat on the rock behind them while I settled on a rock; judging from Gandalf's expression, we were going to be here for a while.

Quiet footfalls stopped behind me, and I knew Legolas had settled on my rock right behind me.

"I owe you an apology," I said quietly. "I'm afraid I have a horrible temper, and the struggle of this whole journey - not knowing whether we'll return - and I've just been worried all the time..." My words faded out as I became more aware that they just sounded like excuses.

Legolas stopped me by putting a hand on my shoulder, and I turned to face him for the first time. "I understand," he said simply.

I sighed. "Everything about this seems so unreal. Sauron returning the Ring coming into our possession, of all places. Evil stirs in every corner of the east, and it will only spread across the cities of Men throughout the west. It will take a miracle for us all to get through to Mordor and all the way back."

"I guess we'll have to settle for a miracle, then," Legolas said with a small smile. I glanced at him, unconvinced. "You are unlike most elleth, Oreldes. Amin dele ten' lle. Alpân na alestel. Bain poltírad nepân nass tel'Endórë. (I'm worried about you. Not everything is hopless. Good can be found in every corner of Middle-Earth.)" He paused and looked at me to make sure I was listening. "Even if we seem alone right now, hope will come for us. It may be unrealistic to believe in this hope, but you mustn't despair. There is a balance between pessimism and optimism, Oreldes. We have allies, and we have strength. Ava'awartha estel. (Do not abandon hope)."

There was a long silence in which I digested what he said. I suppose it was true that I was rather pessimistic compared to many other elves. If we were truly meant to go through with this, the Valor would see it done, and I trusted them. I had faith in Frodo, and though he was small and inexperienced, I sensed a strength in him that was vaguely familiar.