"What kind of army would linger in such a place?" After minutes of riding down the spooky path, Gimli finally speaks. Our horses are nervous and they walk with uncertainty- and we gaze down the shadowy path, my shoulders tense.
"One that is cursed." Legolas murmurs, answering Gimli's question. I tilt my head and glance at the elf. "Long ago, the Men of the Mountain 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 grey 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 Pass of the Dead. "
I glance ahead at Aragorn, who rides in front of us.
"So only you can release them from their hold, Aragorn." I say, more as a question than a statement.
He is silent- either he heard me and chooses not to answer, or he wasn't paying attention. I sigh quietly, and continue down the path is silence. The sound of hooves on the stone ground echoes around us, creating an eerie atmosphere. Numen seems more spooked than he ever has been- he keeps snorting and tossing his head, urging me to turn back and find the others.
We cannot turn back now. It is too late for that.
"The very warmth of my blood seems stolen away." Gimli mutters, and I shiver in agreement. We approach a doorway, carved into stone, with letters along the top and skulls in the sides. Human skulls. I shiver again and take a deep breath.
"The way is shut." Legolas says, reading the inscription along the top of the doorway. "It was made by those who are dead... and the dead keep it. The way is shut."
Cold wind suddenly blows through the area, startling the horses. Numen spooks and gallops back down the path.
"Brego!" Aragorn yells as the chestnut horse follows Numen, Arod right behind. I sigh, but I know that the horses won't go too far.
"They'll be back." I murmur, watching them turn the corner and disappear from our sight. Aragorn stares down into the darkness.
"I do not fear death." Aragorn growls, walking through the doorway and into the darkness. Legolas follows him immediately, but Gimli and I linger. I still despise underground places, especially since my capture when I was little. I was taken deep into the Misty Mountains and kept prisoner by the Goblin King. Who knows what's in store for me here...
"Well, this is a thing unheard of. An elf will go underground, where a dwarf dare not. Oh, I'd never hear the end of it." Gimli grumbles from beside me. We exchange a glance and we walk through the doorway.
My eyes adjust rather quickly to the darkness, and I see the walls on either side of Gimli and I. Aragorn walks in front of us, and Legolas too. I glance down at Gimli before a bright light startles me. Aragorn lights a torch and continues walking, and we follow slowly. I walk faster to catch up to Legolas, leaving Gimli a few paces behind, and he holds my hand.
"How long have they lingered in this shadow?" I whisper to Legolas.
"Many, many years." He responds softly, and I shudder. I want to turn back right now. What made me want to come? If they attack us, I cannot fight back. We would be instantly dead. I bite my lip nervously, and Legolas' grip on my hand tightens protectively.
Aragorn sweeps the torch downwards, illuminating the ground. It is scattered with skeletons.
I let out a strangled cry as I see their empty sockets, and Legolas pulls me into his arms. I don't know if I can do this. I am weak- I will only hold them back from their task.
"I'm.. I'm going ba-" I start to stutter, but Legolas holds me closer.
"No, stay. I'll protect you." He assures me, and I swallow, nodding.
"What is it? What do you see?" Gimli cries, not able to see from his spot behind us.
"I see shapes of men and of horses." Legolas whispers, and I close my eyes. I take a deep breath and release my grip on Legolas. He lets go of me but his arm remains on my shoulder, comforting me.
"Where?" Gimli asks.
"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 whispers.
"The dead? Summoned? I knew that! Huh, huh. Very good. Very good." Gimli mutters nervously as we continue walking. I step over a skeleton. "Legolas!" He cries, running to catch up.
As we walk, Legolas' arm slides off of my shoulder and onto my waist. On a normal occasion, I would have squirmed away uncomfortably, but the gesture oddly calmed me. Greenish mist begins to form in front of us, forming into the shapes of hands. The mist swarms around us and I shiver, leaning closer to Legolas as a ghostly hand reaches out for me. Suddenly, Aragorn turns around and faces us.
"Do not look down." He whispers, sounding a little sick. I swallow and resist the urge to look as we continue walking, but once I hear the first crunch my eyes fly downwards to see the ground littered with skulls. Dead things, underneath my feet, that used to be full of life. Now dead and under my foot. I look up quickly and take a deep breath, but gag on the smell. It smells... like death.
Legolas gently leads me through the pile of skulls, and I try to ignore the sound of bones breaking under my feet. Gimli hops over them, hoping that it would be better than walking slowly. His weight crushes the skulls with a sickening crunch, crunch, crack.
Finally, the sounds recede and I feel stone under my feet again, and we emerge into an open space. I sigh softly, feeling the slight feeling of claustrophobia go away as we exit the tunnels.
"Who enters my domain?" A voice hisses menacingly, and I clutch Legolas' arm when I see a ghost staring at us. His clothes are ripped and tattered, a crown upon his head. His flesh is rotted and his eyes stare at us, alive but at the same time dead.
"One who will have your allegiance." Aragorn responds calmly.
"The dead do not suffer the living to pass." The King of the Dead hisses back, approaching us slowly.
"You will suffer me!" Aragorn stands confidently, and the ghost starts laughing. Not like a laugh of a happy child, but a laugh filled with hate and menace. The walls around us start to glow an eerie green. The walls show an image of a city and an army of ghosts appear, drifting slowly towards us.
"The way is shut! It was made by those who are dead. And the dead keep it." The king says. "The way is shut! Now you must die."
My hand slips from Legolas' as he reaches for an arrow. He notches it into his bow in a second and fires it at the ghost, but it simply passes through him. It falls to the ground with a clatter.
Aragorn strides confidently towards the ghost king, and I watch on in anticipation.
"I summon you to fulfill your oath!" He exclaims.
"None but the King of Gondor may command me!" The ghost yells back, drawing a sword and bringing it down on Aragorn. I flinch, but Aragorn draws out his own sword and blocks the blow. The sound of metal on metal rings out loudly, making me frown in confusion- then I recognize the blade. Andúril. The broken blade.
"That blade was broken!" The King cries as Aragorn forces him back.
"It has been remade." He responds, turning towards the army before us. "Fight for us and regain your honour. What say you? What say you?" He yells, walking through the army quite literally.
"Argh! You waste your time, Aragorn. They had no honour in life, and they have none in death." Gimli says to Aragorn. I watch the scene unfold with terrified eyes.
"I am Isildur's heir." Aragorn still speaks, sword still drawn. "Fight for me and I will hold your oaths fulfilled. What say you?"
The King starts to laugh a horrible, eerie laugh. The rest of his ghost army joins in, echoing the terrible sound and they soon disappear from sight. It makes me jittery with nerves- they can appear at any moment and kill any of us at any time.
"You have my word!" Aragorn cries, desperation slowly creeping into his voice. "Fight and I will release you from this living death! What say you?"
His voice echoes in the now empty room, making me shiver.
"Stand, you traitors!" Gimli yells.
Suddenly, the silence is broken as the walls crackle and split through the centre. Hundreds of skulls tumble out from between the walls, quickly rushing towards us. I immediately turn to the opposite side of the room where another doorway is. Since I was closest to the door, I'm almost there by the time the skulls reach us.
"Out!" Aragorn yells, Legolas and Gimli behind him as he follows me out. I lunge to the safety of the doorway and turn back to look for my friends, but all I see are skulls. I start to panic, thinking that they got buried.
"Legolas! Run!" I hear Aragorn yell, and all three of them emerge from the sea of skulls. Gimli barrels into me, almost toppling me over, but Aragorn catches my wrist and pulls me out of the mountain and into sunlight.
Panting, we stop at the edge of the mountain and gaze at the sea below. All hope drains from my body when I see the fleet of black-sailed ships along the water, and I can see the same effect on my companions.
Aragorn sinks to his knees and Legolas watches solemnly. I swallow hard and rub my eyes, making sure no tears pass without my permission. Negative thoughts flood my mind, and although I try to keep them away, they keep coming back.
We failed them. We failed them all. Middle Earth is doomed to darkness- we stand no chance against Sauron's army without them.
Legolas' fingers lace around mine and his other hand rests on Aragorn's shoulder. I sniff sadly, but flinch when I feel a icy cold breeze on the back of my neck. I turn around before anybody else notices the King of the Dead walking out through the rocks.
"What are you doing?" I snarl, hands instinctively creeping to my swords. Gimli, Aragorn and Legolas turn around with wide eyes.
"We fight!" The ghost hisses.