-This is a Lord of the Rings fanfic. Characters and places in this story are property of JRR Tolkien, except for Larith and Galen.
Trail of Ice, Trail of Fire
"Stay clear of the edge," Larith called to his companion who was treading ahead of him rather close to the edge of the incline. Snow covered everything around them; the hard, merciless snow of
Caradhras. The cruel air of the mountain chilled them to the bone. Deadly frost reached deep into
their souls and twisted them from the inside. Cold wind filled with equally cold silence swirled
around them, echoing a silent whisper of Caradhras' anger at the two intruders. But all the two
Elves could do was to push onward. Abandoning their mission now, after they'd come so far, was
no option.
Treading up the steep slope, Galen realized how close to the edge he really was, and backed up to
the rock. "I think I shall heed your advice, Larith," he said sarcastically.
The two Elves continued their upward ascent, trekking through the snow, which was just below
their knees. The hours passed, or at least it seemed that way. Time had lost meaning in the frigid
atmosphere surrounding Caradhras. After passing several more slopes, something passed over them;
an ill foreboding that clawed at their consciousness.
When winter first begins to bite
and stones crack in the frosty night,
when pools are black and trees are bare,
'tis evil in the Wild to fare.
The words of Elrond echoed in their minds as they came to a halt.
"I fear what new treachery Caradhras may have in store for us, Galen. I can feel it," Larith said,
narrowing his eyes as he stared ahead through the mist and the thick flakes of snow that had
recently begun to shower them.
"Paranoia has driven us to refer to the mountain as if it were alive," Galen remarked.
"Who says it is not?" Larith said, still glaring ahead. There was a loud rumble, and looking up,
Galen watched in horror as a cascade of snow streamed down the slope above them. Larith realized
it as well, and together they ran like raging chariots across the frosted surface, their feet hardly
touching the snow.
Losing his footing, Galen tumbled to the snow. When Larith did not feel Galen's presence behind
him, he turned and looked back. Looking first at Galen, then to the avalanche plummeting down
the slope above them. Galen was pushing his fists into the snow for stability as he tried to scramble
to his feet; but at that moment, another Elf ran behind him and pulled him up. Gripping Galen's
arm, he raced toward Larith, and together they darted beyond the next turn.
They reached the other side of the incline and veered behind the cliff. Peeking out from the edge,
Galen watched as the avalanche cascaded down to the mountainside below as a rushing waterfall.
Turning back to the fair-skinned Elf beside Larith, his eyes widened in astonishment.
"Legolas? What...what are you doing here?"
"I followed you," Legolas replied with a grin.
Galen looked furious, but his rage dissipated as soon as it appeared and he smiled. "I suppose I am
in your debt."
"Not so. I would not abandon you both. In fact, you would have a greater chance of success if I
came with you. I had experience with Caradhras during my time with the Fellowship of the One
Ring," Legolas said, looking out over the edge of the mountain; but most of the land below was
shielded from their view by a blanket of mist.
"But do you believe in the mission? Do you believe a Balrog still dwells in the caves of
Caradhras?" Larith inquired.
Legolas looked sternly at him. "I need not believe nor disbelieve. If what you speak of is true, then
we will find this creature and destroy it. And if not such a beast dwells at Caradhras, then we shall
leave. However, leaving may not be as simple as it seemed before, now that the avalanche has
barred the way we came. We will have to find another way down."
Just then, the Elves' keen ears heard a high-pitched growl far off in the distance. All three whipped
their heads toward the direction of the noise, and were filled with dread. Would they be able to
defeat this monstrous scourge? But if Glorfindel defeated a Balrog alone long ago, then surely the
three of them could be rid of this creature. But then again...Glorfindel did not survive the clash.
Galen and Larith had been filled with terrible forebodings ever since they crossed paths with this
mount, and now the forebodings grew ever stronger.
"We must destroy it!" Larith said sternly. He dashed across the soft blanket of white, and vanished
beyond the ever growing mist that hovered over the slope like a plague.
"Wait!" Legolas called, but Larith did not hear him. The two Elves followed quickly after their
hasty companion, all of them now stricken with fear from the harsh roar of the phantom creature
they had yet to meet face to face. Now more than ever, Legolas wished to be back in Imladris with
Haldir. He regretted ever leaving without notice. Would he see him again? Would their friendship
survive this exile?
Swiftly making their way up the slope, Galen squinted ahead and Legolas raised his hand above his
brow; for even the keen sight of the Elves could not penetrate the blizzardous wind carrying snow
through the air. Larith was nowhere to be seen.
Above the whistling wind, they heard the frantic cry of their companion. Following the sound,
they came to the verge of the incline. The snowy surface by the cliff was unstable, and Larith had
fallen through. He was clinging to the edge, suspended over the veil of mist beneath him that
covered any land that lay far below. They both rushed toward him and dropped to the ground.
Legolas had stopped first and reached his hand over the side for the Elf to take, but the ice Larith
gripped broke away, and he descended toward the earth.
Legolas watched in horror, his hand still outstretched. Galen could not believe what he saw before
him. This was not supposed to happen. He and Larith were supposed to return to Lothlorien
triumphant. As Gilgalad and Elendil were forever renowned at defeating evil in the Second Age, so
would they be known as advocates to the people of Middle-Earth. Larith was supposed to be with
him forever; friends until the bitter end, as it had always been. Was now just that: the bitter end?
Immortality never seemed so ill-favored to Galen; that he be here while Larith's immortality fades
as he nears the snow at the foot of the mountain; helpless as his life grew weaker with each passing
moment. Gone.
Larith disappeared beyond the shroud of mist that lay half between the ground and them. It seemed
as if forever had passed before they came back to reality. Legolas lowered his arm and crawled
back from the edge. Galen stepped back as well.
At that moment, there was another roar of the ghastly creature coming from a nearby cave. This
time the roar was louder and lower in pitch. They both were shaken from their trance, and looked
toward the cave with dread. Suppressing their torn emotions as best they could, they left the cliff
and started toward the cave.
They entered warily, taking in their surroundings. The cave was narrow, and grew more so as they
went deeper. All around them the walls glistened back, for no rock could be seen in their form;
only ice. It reminded Legolas of Gimli's description of the Glittering Caves long ago. He had yet to
keep his promise to him. After this was over, Legolas resolved to go to the Glittering Caves and to
Fangorn with his Dwarven friend, as they had promised each other they would years before.
Low murmuring echoed through the tunnel as they pressed on. There was a terrible foreboding
lurking in the air, torturing them with its whispers. Each step pulled at them, begging to go back
and leave this place; but they kept going, as they had always done. But despite the portentous
foreboding that weighed heavy on them, all there was to be seen was ice; evil was hiding itself for
the moment.
Legolas had gone ahead and Galen quickened his pace to catch up to him, but they both came to a
dead end. They found it perplexing that the sound came from this cave and yet there be nothing but
a dead end.
Suddenly, there was a shaking beneath them and both dared not move any further. Legolas looked
around, sensing an approach of ill fortune. Galen sensed it as well and started toward his
companion. But before he reached him, there was another rumble louder than the first, and the
ground began to shake violently. Ice from the ceiling of the cave began to come loose, and in a
rush it all came crashing down between them. Galen raced to him and tried to break through the ice
to free him. Legolas tried the same from the other side, but there was too much and their attempts
solved nothing.
"It's no use," Legolas said. "We can't shatter it."
Galen stilled and looked up. "What are you saying?"
Legolas' expression disappeared, and he spoke. "I'm saying...that maybe you should go while
there's time."
Galen wrinkled his brow and had a look of disgust. "No! I must get you out, and we must defeat
the Balrog before it terrorizes Middle-Earth!" Galen began to ram himself against the ice to free
his friend; to no avail.
"Galen!" Legolas yelled from the other side of the crystal-like wall, but Galen ignored him and
continued to thrust his side into the ice. "Galen, listen to me!" he called again. "There is no
Balrog!"
"No, I cannot believe that!" Galen shouted over the rumbling all around them, and shoved his
shoulder into the ice; this time so harshly he injured his arm, but he paid no attention to the pain
and continued to strike the ice.
"The Balrogs died with the fall of Morgoth, and those that did not fell alongside Sauron," Legolas
explained.
"What of all these forebodings? And that terrible shriek we heard!"
"It was Caradhras," Legolas said loudly, trying to be heard over the harsh wind and rumble from
above the cave. "Caradhras infiltrating your mind; driving you to madness! Caradhras is sheer evil,
and will stop at nothing to destroy us, Galen! It's wrath has already taken Larith, and now it has
devoured me. You must go before you become another victim of its malice!"
Galen once more ignored him and rammed the ice with his body in full force.
"You cannot free me now, but you can free yourself! Go!" Legolas shouted louder than before.
Galen fell still and looked up at Legolas' face that was now turning blue from the immense cold
emanating from the ice, but even more so from the cold filling inside him; hope diminishing every
moment that passed in their gaze.
"Go..." Legolas said again, but his voice was soft and lifeless. The cold had already half-frozen his
lungs, and every breath seemed cruel to make; more so the effort of speech. Legolas rested his
hand against the ice, and Galen placed his own over it. Lost in the other's gaze, Legolas' eyes began
to fill with the gentle tears of despair. The thought of what Legolas had asked him to do made
Galen feel twisted and sick inside, but he backed away slowly, despite what his heart told him.
Looking his last upon his Elven companion, he closed his eyes and turned away. He ran; ran and
never looked back, afraid that if he did he would never leave again. Leaving Larith was enough to
destroy his spirit forever, but doing it again to another would shatter him completely.
Legolas bowed his head and rested it against the cruel surface in front of him that separated him
from the light and bounty of the world outside.
Eru, in your eyes ,why have you forsaken me?...in your thoughts, forsaken me?...in your heart,
forsaken me?
He wrapped his other arm around himself, trying to lessen the cold. Despair overcame him, and
one by one his senses weakened and collapsed all together. He lifted his head once more, hoping to
see someone with him in his hour of need, or to see that the ice had disappeared and freed him
from his bondage; but then he realized how foolish that thought was. Nothing had changed;
nothing ever did; nothing ever will.
* * * *
Haldir trekked through the cold snow, searching; just searching. It had long since come to pass that
the Third Age of Middle-Earth ended. Everyone he held close to him had passed beyond to the
Grey Havens. Lothlorien was now an abandoned place; fading and losing its place in time as the
Age of Men progressed. Men thrived...Elves faded and disappeared beyond the sea.
Why had he staid? Why had he remained in this world where Elves could no longer endure? The
time of his race had come and gone...but he was still here. Had he waited for some unknown
signal? A sign from someone lost long ago?
Caradhras had called to him while he dwelled in the remains of Imladris; something lured him
there. Haldir knew not why he had listened to the calling. He could have ignored it, as his friend
Legolas had ignored his calling to the sea for his entire life. Haldir and Legolas had always felt a
connection between each other, as if they had always known the other. The best of friends they had
become, but he lost track of Legolas when he disappeared years before. Haldir had thought his
friend finally followed the calling of his heart and sailed to Valinor. What else would he had done?
King Elessar was dead, and Gimli was busy leading his own people. The logical path for Legolas
to have taken would be over the sea to escape his loneliness.
Haldir would have done the same if it not for something deeper; something pulling him back and
clutching him tightly; binding him to Middle-Earth. Long before his thoughts had been filled with
Caradhras, but recently the imagery became more explicit and tense. He felt drawn to the mountain
somehow, but knew not how. It was decided that the only way to find the answers to his questions
was to go to Caradhras itself.
So it was that Haldir of Lorien passed over the many peaks of Caradhras unharmed and came to a
small cave on the side of the slope. He was about to pass by it when suddenly he felt a strong
intuition, as if someone were calling to him from a place far beyond the reach of Elves and Men.
Upon entering the recess and walking for a few moments, his Elven sight detected a form hidden
deep beneath the ice before him. Curiosity stricken, he took a few steps closer and peered at this
lifeless form encased in the crystal wall. The form was limply standing, one hand resting on the
surface in front of him. Haldir felt pity for this Elf; this Elf whose immortality had slipped away
in those fatal moments of death long ago at the end of the Third Age. Haldir looked into the Elf's
eyes filled with endless sorrow and despair. Something struck deep in Haldir's soul as he realized
how many times before those eyes had gazed into his own. Strong confusion overcame him as he
realized who it was.
How did Legolas ever deserve the wrath of Caradhras? What was he doing here? Legolas was
supposed to be in utopia; in the Grey Havens with the rest of the Elves! Haldir was supposed to be
the only of his race still left in Middle-Earth...so why had Legolas staid behind? Why?
None of it mattered, Haldir resolved. For the only thing he could see was the lifeless body of the
person who meant more to him than his own essence held in a forever frozen tomb of agony; and
yet even though those glittering eyes that stared back at him lacked the cool breath of life, it
seemed to Haldir that those eyes seemed more alive than they ever had been.
He placed his palm over the outstretched hand of his friend; the icy barrier preventing their touch
like a barrier separating light from darkness. But peace he found, remaining ever by the Elven
essence whom immortality had abandoned, eventually becoming encased in the icy tomb himself.
But at least they were together once again, even though neither knew not of existence any longer.
And Caradhras grieved not, but laughed and took pleasure in another victory.
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