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Struck by horror, Legolas flung himself at the cave entrance, clawing
at the rock with his bare hands, shouting desperately.
“Aragorn! Elladan, Elrohir! Can you hear me?!” There was no sound at
all from within the cave. He listened, desperate for some sign, any
indication that his friends still lived, but the silence was broken
only by the occasional chink
of settling rubble. He looked up and down the deserted hillside
for anyone who could get help, but there was no one. He, Aragorn
and the twins had been detailed to search this cave, and the others had
spread out to other locations.
He stared at the cave blankly, wondering what he could do, knowing he
had to act swiftly if there was any chance of getting them out alive –
if they were still
alive. Studying the cave again, he realised that the entrance was
not totally blocked as he first thought. Two large boulders had fallen
across it, but there was a very narrow gap beside one that opened into
darkness. Without giving himself time to think about it, he took a deep
breath and slid into the gap, twisting his body to fit through.
Inside, it was pitch black, so dark he could see nothing. He tried hard
to recall the layout of the cave as Aragorn had described it to him,
but he had been paying little attention at the time, and could not
recall much. With one hand outstretched in front of him to feel the
wall, Legolas took a cautious step forward, then another, then swore
sharply as his head hit the low roof. This was no good. He moved back
to the slice of grey light that marked the gap, and squeezed back out
into the night. He took a deep breath of the cool night air, then
turned to Elladan’s horse. He found a tinderbox in the bags, with
flint, kindling, and a tallow candle, and quickly lit it, then
re-entered the cave.
It was harder this time, and he had to force himself to continue,
sorely tempted to simply take one of the horses and ride for
help. The wavering flame cast a fitful light before him, sending
flickering shadows across the walls. The tunnel was partially blocked,
but now that he was able to see he could pick his way over the rubble,
ducking his head to avoid the low roof. Just ahead he could see a
dark shape on the ground – the troll. It lay where the tunnel widened
out, and part of the cave roof had collapsed onto it. It looked
dead, and he fervently hoped that it was.
Above the troll, a slab of rock had fallen from the roof. It was
balanced on a precarious support, and looked ready to collapse at any
minute. Legolas looked at it for a moment, then edged under it warily –
if it fell, it would kill him without doubt, or trap him on the far
side, away from the entrance.
He called again. “Elrohir? Elladan? Aragorn?” To his
relief, a faint moan answered him – at least someone was alive.
He stepped carefully past the troll and found a large cave, just as
Aragorn had said. He turned to look round the cave, moving a little too
quickly, and the flame shuddered and nearly went out. He slowed, his
heart racing, and carefully checked his pocket yet again to be sure he
had the tinderbox safe. Then he carefully dripped molten
wax onto a ledge of rock, fixing the candle into place. As his eyes
adjusted to the faint light he could see that the roof at one side of
the cave had fallen in, and rubble and debris littered the floor.
Immediately in front of him he could see Aragorn, just raising himself
to his hands and knees. He seemed dazed, and not fully aware of what
had happened. Legolas dropped to one knee beside him. “Aragorn? Are you
all right? Can you walk?” He touched the man on one shoulder, but the
ranger seemed disorientated, and took a wild swing at Legolas. The
sudden movement unbalanced Aragorn, and he nearly fell. Legolas lowered
his voice. “Aragorn, it is me, Legolas. Can you hear me? Wait
here, I shall go to see if I can find what happened to Elladan and
Elrohir.”
He could see both the twins, just past Aragorn: Elladan nearest, just
beginning to stir, and Elrohir, unmoving, lying against the far side of
the cave. He moved carefully past Aragorn, then knelt next to Elladan.
His eyes were flickering, and he was moving his head slightly. Legolas
touched his face gently with his hands. “Elladan? Elladan!” He paused,
then continued, using the old name. “Ellahir? Wake up, talk to me
Ellahir!”
There was a soft sigh. “Go ’way.”
Legolas grinned. “That sounds better. Wake up now, Aragorn is hurt, and
I need you to help me with him.” He turned then to Aragorn again.
“Aragorn, can you stand? I want you to get Elladan out of here.”
Aragorn groaned, but got to his feet, swaying slightly. “Elladan? Is he
all right? What about Elrohir?”
“I can see to Elrohir. Go on, take Elladan outside, get help.”
Aragorn helped pull Elladan to his feet, then turned to stare hazily at
Legolas. “What are you doing here? I thought you were talking to
Elrond.”
“I followed you down. Come on, I need you to help Elladan, remember?”
With a mixture of pleas and threats, Legolas was able to persuade the
pair to move to the exit, stumbling and supporting each other. They
were both clearly dazed and only partially aware of what had happened,
or he would never have got them out while Elrohir remained.
Once they were safely gone, he turned to Elrohir. “Elrohir?
Elrohir?” he asked gently. There was no response. Elrohir
lay face down, motionless, partly buried in dust and rubble. His hair
was coated with a grey dust. Carefully, Legolas moved the candle a
little closer, fixing it in place again, then slid his hand beneath
Elrohir’s neck to check for a pulse, fearing what he might find.
To his relief, he found it, beating strongly. Then, as he gently
touched the back of Elrohir’s head, he felt a sticky smear of
blood. As he moved enough of the stone and rock to free Elrohir,
he was sharply reminded of his own experiences, and he fought to
control his panic again. Eventually he was able to pull Elrohir
free. The movement raised a further cloud of dust, adding to that
already choking the air. The smell, the taste of the dust, the stinging
in his eyes and throat all revived the memories even more vividly, but
there was no time to dwell on them.
As Legolas bent to check on Elrohir again, the candle flame began to
gutter and flicker, sending shadows leaping wildly across the walls. He
turned to look at the candle as the flame shimmered and finally went
out, leaving him in total darkness again. He stood,
controlling his fear with an immense effort, and groped for the
tinderbox. But his hands shook, and as he opened it to strike the
flint, it slipped from his grasp, falling to the ground somewhere among
the stones that covered the floor of the cave. Crouching, he felt
among the rubble, his hands sweeping the floor in a vain search for the
box, but it was gone. He swore in despair, but abandoned his
attempts to relight the candle. Instead, he located Elrohir again
by touch and lifted him carefully. Legolas had had no time to examine
Elrohir for further injury, and knew he should not really be moved, but
there seemed no other choice now. He was still unconscious, but
at least he was alive. The darkness now was absolute, pierced by
the sound of settling earth, and laced with the evocative smell of damp
and crumbling rock.
Legolas had heard a steady trickle of dust and debris, together with a
constant drip of water for some time, and now there was a creaking
groan as more of the cave collapsed somewhere behind him. He moved
cautiously forward, trying to feel ahead with one hand outstretched,
while still supporting Elrohir. After what seemed like an eternity he
located the wall, and began to grope along it in the direction of the
cave mouth. He had forgotten about the troll, lying near the tunnel,
and stumbled over it, nearly dropping Elrohir as he fell. At the same
time there was a thunderous roar as more of the cave collapsed, this
time showering him with stones and mud. He got to his feet again, heart
pounding, breathing harshly. He swallowed again, fighting the
panic that welled up within, and battling against the impulse to
abandon Elrohir and simply run for his life.
Behind him, there was a different sound, the rumble of a semi-conscious
troll - it was obviously not as dead as Legolas had hoped. He could
hear it lumbering to its feet. Glancing behind, he could just see it in
the grainy light filtering from the cave entrance, peering all around,
looking for the three elves that had trespassed in its cave. There was
a low growl, then a crash. The troll had stumbled, falling against the
single remaining roof support. There was a tremendous crash as the rock
slab above fell, bringing down the rest of the cave roof.
Faintly, in the noise, there was a soft grunt as the troll was buried
beneath tons of rock.
A trickle of stones was falling all around Legolas now, and once or
twice there was a heavier impact. Something brushed against his back
and landed heavily just behind him - large enough to have inflicted
serious damage if it had struck him. Another rock hit his shoulder,
numbing his arm, and Legolas stumbled to his knees once more. Grimly he
picked himself up. Surely the tunnel had not been so long on his
way in? Could he possibly have taken a wrong turn in the
darkness? Was he, even now, moving deeper and deeper into the
hill? Finally, ahead of him, he could see a dim grey light
that marked the exit, and could hear voices calling. The light was
momentarily blocked, and he was plunged back into darkness as someone
edged through the narrow gap.
“Legolas! Elrohir! Are you there?”
He gave a sigh – almost a sob – of relief. “Yes. Here. Get
out, quickly, because I cannot tell how long it will be before the rest
of the roof falls in.” Suddenly someone was beside him, taking Elrohir,
and guiding him out of the cave. There seemed an interminable pause
while Elrohir was manoeuvred past the rocks blocking the cave, when the
light was obscured again, then they were out, breathing the clean night
air.
Wearily, Legolas sank to his knees in the damp grass. He was
filthy, streaked with debris, mud and blood, hair matted and dulled
with dust. Elrohir, laying a little way off with Elrond kneeling beside
him, looked no better. But they were alive.
Hearing shouts and curses, Legolas looked about him, absently rubbing
his shoulder and flexing his hand. Aragorn and Elladan were being
forcibly restrained as they struggled to get back to the cave, Elladan
fighting desperately against the three elves who held him back.
“El!” he cried, screaming his brother’s name. He turned and
snarled at the ones who struggled to maintain their hold on him.
“Let me go, curse you! Elrohir!”
Finally it registered on him that Legolas and Elrohir were both out,
and only then did Raffael, Tirilth and the rest release him and
Aragorn. Elladan ran to his brother’s side, but was waved aside
by Elrond. “Let me see to him. What happened?”
Elladan was still dazed, but reasonably coherent. “We went to have a
look at the cave Aragorn found with Legolas. We went inside, but one of
the trolls came back and found us.” He paused, clearly trying to recall
what happened after that. “It started waving its club around, and hit
one of the roof supports. Then - then I think the whole cave started
falling down.” He sank to the ground next to his twin.
“Elrohir? Can you hear me, little brother?”
Between them, Elrohir was already starting to stir, and before long his
eyes opened. He blinked up at his father and brother, both leaning over
him anxiously. The fact that Elrohir had regained consciousness fairly
quickly had already relieved some of Elrond’s concerns. It was further
alleviated when Elrohir groaned and muttered “Oh no - what happened to
that troll?”
Legolas looked across at him. “Have no worries – it was dead. The
roof caved in on it.”
Elrohir blinked at him owlishly. “Legolas? I thought I heard your
voice. Where did you come from? Were you in the cave with us?”
“You were lucky. I came to see what you were up to. You need
looking after!”
Elrond watched Legolas as he spoke, his gaze going then to his sons.
The three were battered and bruised, but already arguing about who was
at fault. He turned to Legolas. “They are indeed lucky you came after
them. I owe you - I owe you a debt of gratitude I can never repay.” he
said quietly.
Legolas was spared from having to answer. There was a clatter of hooves
as Arwen rode up. She had been working with one of the other search
parties away to the south, but had obviously heard what had occurred.
Elrohir was sitting up by now, elbows propped on his knees as Elrond
tended to the cut at the back of his head. He winced, then looked
up as Arwen approached. “Oh no, not again!” he murmured.
As she dropped to the ground, Legolas took her horse. He looked at the
beast curiously. It did not look like the one she usually rode.
Once she had seen for herself that Elladan, Elrohir and Aragorn were
more or less in one piece, her concern gave way to anger. “What were
you thinking of, going in there without a lookout? You know how
dangerous these trolls can be! Have you forgotten what happened last
time? Have you forgotten poor Linhir?”
Aragorn tried to defuse her anger. “I did have a lookout the last time
I went into the cave, Legolas stayed outside. He was going to again,
but got talking to your father. None of us wanted to wait, so we all
went in without him. Perhaps we should have waited ....”
“Yes, you should! At least Legolas has some sense!”
Legolas did not want to be dragged into the argument, so looked for a
way to interrupt, and changed the subject. “Arwen, surely this is
Asfaloth? Where is your horse?”
She looked slightly guilty. “I borrowed him. He was faster than mine. I
know Glorfindel will not mind!”
“What do you mean?” asked her father. “Glorfindel does know you have
his horse, I suppose?”
She flushed. “Well - he was not there to ask. He was off searching one
of the other caves - with a lookout!” she added pointedly.
Elrond sighed. “I told you before, ask first! I know this is not the
first time you have taken Asfaloth without asking Glorfindel.”
“And it probably will not be the last, either,” Elladan added
slyly. He was in high good humour now that he knew Elrohir was
safe.
The search parties were now split into two groups. One continued the
search for the remaining trolls, while the other was delegated to
escort Elladan, Elrohir and Aragorn back to Imladris.
“Arwen, take Asfaloth back at once. Apologise to Glorfindel!”
Elrond was irritated with her, but too relieved to be properly angry.
Arwen bowed her head meekly. “Yes, father.”
Elladan and Elrohir watched with unashamed delight. It was extremely
rare that their sister bore the brunt of Elrond’s anger - it was
usually them, even when she had been the instigator of some
prank. Elrohir, holding a pad of soft cloth to the back of his
head, exchanged a broad smile with his brother.
Elrond now turned his attention to his sons and Legolas. “I want you to
head straight home. None of you are fit for any more adventures today!”
He paused then, glaring at them all in resignation, and changed his
mind with a sigh. “No, on second thoughts I will accompany you myself.
I do not trust any of you!”
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