Fighting the Odds: The Lionheart Returns (A Lord of the Rings Fanfiction)

Book 1: The Tomb

The only sound that could be heard in the dark tunnels of Moria were the echos off the Fellowship's footsteps off of the stone walls. Ara walked in the middle of the group, completely silent. She felt as if the stone was pressing down on her, crushing the breath from her lungs. Her friends had noticed that she was jumpy and quite pale. Though not from ber injury. A realization hit Aragorn and Legolas.

"Ara, are you afraid?" Aragorn asked, trying not to speak too loudly.

"The great, brave, Lionheart, scared?" Boromir scoffed. Ara glared at him.

"I might be slightly claustrophobic, alright?" she snapped, unamused. The others looked at her, shocked. Not even Aragorn and Legolas knew that.

"Ara, dear, I need to speak with you." Gandalf called from the front of the group. Ara walked to the front, Boromir, Aragorn and Legolas watching as she walked off.

"That's new." Aragorn muttered. Legolas nodded and Boromir looked gobsmacked. The group walked on, Ara still talking to Gandalf. Eventually, the others noticed that they had switched languages. It confused the hobbits, as the language didn't sound like elvish.

"What tongue are they speaking?" Frodo asked Aragorn and Legolas.

"Ibilissan." Legolas replied. The hobbits looked intrigued as they listened to the unfamiliar language.

"Can you understand it?" Gimli asked.

"A little bit. Ara slips into Ibilissan sometimes when she's mad. But if she and Gandalf have gone through the trouble of switching languages, they don't wish for us to listen in." Aragorn replied. The others nodded, but couldn't help but wonder what the Bender and Wizard were saying.

"The Ring, it has an effect on you." Gandalf said to Ara, speaking in Ibilissan. It was not a question, but a statement. Ara glanced over at him.

"Yes. How did you know?" she asked curiously.

"Your grandmother, Reyna, had a similar experience. The Benders are a strong race, but they have always had a vulnerability: their souls. Through the Ring- and other objects of dark origins-, Sauron would seek to exploit this weakness. He would see all your people dead or insane through it. And there is one person he would especially desire to kill: you, Ara. You are one of the Great Eye's largest threats. Given the opportunity, he will try to enter your mind and destroy your spirit. And that is why I must teach you how to keep him from entering it." Gandalf explained, still speaking in Ara's native tongue, as not to worry the others. So Gandalf taught Ara how to keep Sauron at bay, while they continued to walk through the ancient halls. After Ara had perfected the technique, Gandalf spoke again. It had been a very long time since he had been able to speak privately with the young Bender.

"How have you been... after the incident?" Gandalf asked. Ara looked down.

"I've managed. I just don't understand... why he-he..." she said, her voice breaking as the memory washed over her. Gandalf looked over at the young woman. He was worried for her, after all she had been through.

"Ara... Justus thought you were dead."

Ara instantly blanched and fell silent. The rest of the Fellowship noticed this, though they had not understood what Gandalf had said to upset her. Ara silently dropped back, not wishing to speak to anyone. She was deep in a memory, one that the others did not know of or see. Except for Gandalf.

As they continue to travel through the Mines, Gandalf ran his hand over the rock walls thoughtfully.

"The wealth of Moria was not in gold and jewels- but mithril." he said, making his staff glow brighter. The enhanced light revealed that they stood in a vast cavern. Ara gazed at her surroundings in wonder. Gleaming threads of what looked like silver ran along the rock walls. Although, it was not silver, but mithril.