Silverhelm: A Tale of Two Enemies

Even Gandalf Has No Idea Where We Are

We began our long journey, going deeper and deeper into the darkness. I shivered, but it was not from the cold. "There is something in this place," I whispered, my soft voice echoing in the vast, empty halls of Khazad-dum. "Something that is not Man, elf, dwarf, hobbit, or whatever you are, Gandalf."

"So... Are you talking about yourself, half-breed? You cannot claim to be an elf, nor are you a man," Legolas said. It looks like he didn't mean that apology at all. I elbowed him in the ribs, hard, and went to talk to Gimli, who was having a discussion with Aragorn with Balin's colony here.

As we walked, the light from Gandalf's staff shone on something silver on the walls.

"The wealth of Moria was not in gold or jewels..." Gandalf said, running his hand over the walls. "But Mithril." He tilted his staff to shine down into the darkness, illuminating levels of scaffolding, crumbling with age. Merry leaned forward to see better, and I put a hand in front of him before he could resort to his usual clumsiness and fall in. "Bilbo had a shirt of Mithril rings that Thorin gave him." Frodo's hand went to his chest, and I immediately knew that Bilbo had given him the shirt.

"Oh,  a kingly gift!" Gimli remarked. I had been there, the day Thorin handed the gleaming shirt to Bilbo.

"Yes, I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire," Gandalf added.

I fell back to walk beside Frodo and Gimli. "I knew your uncle, Frodo," I said. "And your father, Gimli."

"Really? Bilbo never spoke of you," Frodo said.

"Nor did my father," Gimli added.

"I traveled with the thirteen dwarves on their quest to reclaim Erebor. But... that's a story for later," I said because we had come upon a dark chamber with three doors leading out of it.

Gandalf walked forward, shining his light on the walls. "I have no memory of this place," he said.

"You mean we're lost?" Pippin cried in dismay.

"No, give him some time," said Boromir. Gandalf sat on a rock, trying to remember, and we all did likewise, sitting on the ruins that were once beautiful.

Gandalf and Frodo were talking by the ledge, but I could not make out their words, no matter how hard I tried. Pippin was saying something to Merry about being hungry. I shook my head, laughing to myself. Hobbits.  Then a sudden voice to my left startled me out of my wits.

"Lyrasael." I turned and looked towards the sound. It was Legolas. Ugh.

"What do you want?" I demanded hostilely. He raised his hand in mock surrender and smirked.

"Nothing. I just wanted to ask you something." Technically, that does mean he wants something...

"Well, go on then. What are you waiting for?"

"Lyrasael, I know you hate me and you deserve to. And I hate you more than anyone else on Middle-earth." He drew a deep breath. "But for the sake of fellowship, can we call a truce? the Dark Lord will more easily conquer us if we are squabbling amongst ourselves."

What he said made sense. Surprisingly, too: most of the time, men don't make any sense, especially ellon. "Fine," I said. "But this does not mean that we are friends, or that I forgive you."

"Hannon le, Lyrasael." He stood up and walked away. Thank goodness, too. I hadn't forgiven him, I never will, but I need to save my energy for killing orcs, not his confidence. I'll go back to that, of course, but not yet. When Sauron is defeated and all the orcs have been hunted to the corners of the world, then I can go back to taunting Legolas and (finally) kill him. When Sauron is defeated... Holy Hurin! I swore on the Ruling Ring and Sauron's power! And, unfortunately, that is what we set out to destroy. No matter. I would kill him one way or the other, oath, or no oath. Arrghh. I need to let my frustration out, I thought. I have an idea.