I awoke to Aragorn gently shaking my shoulder. "Hey," he murmured. "It's time to go."
I groaned and rubbed my eyes. "Mmmmph. 'Kay."
We about to move out when Gandalf approached me. "Eda. I need you at the back of the company today."
"But, Gandalf-"
He shook his head. "I am very concerned for the Hobbits, particularly Samwise and Frodo. I want you to keep an eye on them specially." When I hesitated, he laid a hand on my shoulder. "Please, do this for me."
I nodded reluctantly. The last thing I wanted was to walk with Aragorn and Legolas-but I could hardly tell Gandalf no.
He gave me a kind smile. "That's a good girl. Now take heart. We're about halfway through Moria, and it would seem luck is with us."
I smiled back. Halfway through-that was doable.
Gandalf patted my shoulder, then called softly, "Aragorn, may I speak with you?"
Aragorn came to Gandalf, and the two of them moved to the front of the company. Leaving me alone with Legolas.
I groaned internally. Great. Just...great.
We walked in silence for hours. I kept myself busy, watching the Hobbits, watching my footing, and watching my back. This was not my favorite position in the company, not only because of Legolas, but also because there was a very real danger of something sneaking up behind us and attacking.
We reached an end to the maze of corridors and came to another mining shaft. The bridge leading through stretched on and on, until I was sure we'd been on it for miles. I couldn't see the bottom below-it could've been ten feet or a thousand. I caught myself gazing into the void as we walked, fascinated by its mystery.
Then Legolas grabbed my arms.
I gasped. Why had he-? Then I looked down and blushed. There was a large hole in the bridge, and I was about to walk right in it.
I reluctantly met Legolas's gaze. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were cold and uncaring.
I wrenched free of his touch. "I don't know why you bother," I hissed, glaring up at him. We continued walking, and this time I watched where I put my feet.
"Perhaps because you are one of the company," Legolas replied in a toneless murmur.
"Or perhaps because Gandalf would have your head if you didn't," I retorted.
Legolas gave a humorless snort.
I waited for him to say something. Anything. Finally, I muttered, "I suppose you want me to apologize."
"For what, precisely?"
"You tell me," I snapped, shooting him a glare. "Maybe for being born. Would that be a good start?"
Legolas met my gaze, and in his eyes was nothing but pain and a festering bitterness. "I do not hold you responsible for your parents' actions."
I broke our eye contact, swallowing.
Legolas gave a defeated sigh. "The old texts show that love is sacred. And not only love, but life as well." He looked at me; I could feel his gaze, but I didn't look back. "Even orcs and Dwarf scum have their place in the world."
"And I suppose I fit into one of those categories?" I snapped, whirling to glare at him. "Orcs, or Dwarf scum?" I spat at his feet, which he didn't even move to avoid. "I'll do you a favor," I growled. "I'll pretend you don't have hit me written across your forehead."
Legolas scoffed.
And thus we fell back into our routine of pretending the other didn't exist.
* * *
After a long time, we reached the end of the bridge and entered another corridor. This corridor opened up to a small room with three other doorways. Gandalf stopped and looked between the different entrances. "I have no memory of this place..."
We stood in silence while he considered the options. At length, Samwise muttered, "Well, there's a proper air shaft this time. I could build a fire." When no one objected, he pulled some sticks and twigs from his pack. Frodo raised an eyebrow, and Samwise mutter, "I try to be prepared, is all."
Within a few minutes, a tiny flame was dancing around between a few of the twigs, providing a touch of warmth. Samwise, the rascals, and I huddled around, soaking in the precious heat, while the others made themselves comfortable closer or farther away.
"Merry?" asked one of the Hobbit rascals, Pippin.
"What?" replied the other.
"Are we lost?"
"No."
"I think we are," said Pippin matter-of-factly.
"Shh!" hissed the other, Merry. "Gandalf's thinking."
A moment of silence. Then: "Merry?"
Merry glared at his companion. "What?!"
Pippin gave him a wide-eyed look of innocence. "I'm hungry."
I smothered a giggle. The rascals were good for laughs, if nothing else.
"Eda," Aragorn said from behind me.
I turned around. He was seated on the ground, smoking his pipe, and Legolas crouched beside him. I focused my attention on Aragorn. "Yes?"
"Legolas would like to know how you learned Sindarin."
I scowled at the fire. "I know several languages. But I spent a few years in Rivendell, so I'm fluent."
Aragorn cleared his throat. "Did you catch that, Legolas, or should I repeat it?"
Legolas didn't answer, but I could imagine his glare. "Ask her what other languages she knows," he muttered.
"Eda," Aragorn said bemusedly, "Legolas would like to know what other languages you speak."
"Tell him he can ask me himself or mind his own damn business."
"Eda." Aragorn's tone was reproving. "That is not befitting conversation."
I rolled my eyes but didn't answer.
"Ask her if I may examine her dagger," Legolas said.
My eyes widened, and I involuntarily touched my sleeve. I hadn't once removed it, so how had he known it was there?
"May Legolas look at your knife?" Aragorn asked. When I hesitated, he added in a tease, "I'll make sure he gives it back."
I gritted my teeth.
"Please?" Legolas's soft tone, right beside me, caught me off guard.
I flinched and glanced at him. He had been so quiet, I hadn't heard him seat himself right beside me. Though his eyes were still full of bitterness, they weren't so condescending.
Reluctantly, I pulled my knife out and handed it to him. "Don't cut yourself, princess."
His lithe fingers handled the blade with care, examining every detail. One tapered forefinger trailed over the runes stamped into the metal. "Dwarvish," he said simply.
There were a number of remarks I wanted to make, but instead, I just said, "It was my uncle's."
"Yes..." Legolas mused. "The walking arsenal. I remember him." He nodded at the knife. "And I remember this. He carried it beneath his collar, behind his head."
Legolas remembered my uncle. He would remember my father too, as well as my great-uncle. Not to mention my mother. I swallowed. There were so many questions I wanted to ask, so many stories I wanted him to tell. But I knew, looking through his eyes and into his tortured soul, that he would never tell me. Not willingly.
Suddenly, a distressed expression crossed Frodo's face, and he trotted over to where Gandalf was sitting. "There's something down there!"
"It's Gollum," Gandalf replied calmly. "He's been following us for three days."
Frodo cast a fearful glance over his shoulder. "He escaped the dungeons of Barad-Dur?"
"Escaped...or was set loose," said Gandalf, meeting Frodo's gaze. "He hates and loves the Ring, as he hates and loves himself. He will never be rid of his need for it."
The Ring. A chill washed over my skin.
"It's a pity Bilbo didn't kill him when he had the chance," Frodo said in a disgusted tone.
"Pity?" Gandalf shot Frodo a sharp glance. "It was pity that stayed Bilbo's hand."
Frodo didn't respond.
"Many that live, deserve death," Gandalf said quietly. "And some that die, deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo?"
I swallowed. I deserved death. I, the daughter of a rebellious elleth and a thoughtless, lovestruck Dwarf prince. I, who caused Legolas such pain.
"Do not be too eager to deal out death and judgment," Gandalf continued. "Even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that each of us have some part to play, for good or for ill. The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many." He glanced over his shoulder, meeting my gaze. "And the pity of Elrond may rule the fate of many more."
I shivered and looked away, accidentally glancing at Legolas. Eru blast it all, he'd seen everything.
Elves could be such a pain.
A slender hand reached out and gently took my wrist, turning my hand palm-up. Legolas cradled my hand in his own while carefully slipping the knife back up my sleeve. His deep, icy-blue eyes encased me in their stare. And suddenly I didn't feel cold at all. I felt...warm.
I wrenched my gaze free and closed my eyes, gritting my teeth. Tears poked at my eyelids. I wished my mother hadn't been Tauriel. I wished I could've been Granny Dìs's actual daughter, or somebody other than who I was.
"So do all who live to see such times," came Gandalf's gentle, comforting voice. "But that is not for us to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."
A tear squeezed out, slipping down my cheek and off my jaw.
"There are other forces at work in the world, Frodo, than the will of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring. In which case you were meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought." There was a smile in Gandalf's voice in the last sentence.
The forces of good. If they were at work, I certainly couldn't see them. My life was nothing but shame and guilt and heartache. Would it not have been better to submit to the wisdom of authority? Had I made the wrong choice, disregarding Elrond's warnings and leaving Rivendell?
"Eda."
I opened my eyes. Legolas knelt beside me, his blue eyes concerned. His callused fingertips gently brushed away my tears.
"Who you were born is not your fault," he whispered. "Only who you've become."
I swallowed back my emotion, suddenly realizing I had tears streaming down my cheeks. Embarrassed, I turned away and roughly scrubbed away the moisture. I was highly grateful when Gandalf let out a quiet exclamation.
"Ah! It's that way."
"He's remembered," Merry said with a grin, standing and putting out the fire.
"No," Gandalf said, his tone happy. "But the air doesn't smell so foul down here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."
Pippin rolled his eyes. "Well, that's obvious. And I'm in no doubt. My nose leads directly to your satchel, Sam."
Samwise looked over his shoulder and scowled. "You keep your grubby 'ands out of my pack, you 'ear? This 'ere food's for Mister Frodo 'n me."
The rascals exchanged mischievous grins, and in unison, they said, "Aye, we hear you."