This time, bringing up the rear of the company with Legolas wasn't nearly so bad. In fact, it was almost pleasant. We made small talk here and there in short bursts, and the silence in between was comfortable.

After nearly a full day's walking through the limited scenery that Moria provided, we were walking through a long, narrow corridor, and he suddenly said, "Where are you truly from, Eda?"

I swallowed, uncomfortable with telling the truth. But I was so tired of lying. So, finally, I answered honestly.

"To say Dale isn't entirely a lie. I spent most of my waking hours there, in the streets and markets. But I was born in Erebor, and that was where my home was."

Legolas's gaze cut through the darkness, meeting my gaze. "But not anymore?"

I looked away. "Expectations were too high. Are too high. My only home now is the trail I'm blazing."

A pause, then, "I understand. My father has set very high standards for me-standards impossible to obtain. Standards even he cannot bear to uphold." Bitterness saturated Legolas's tone more with each passing word, until he practically spat the last sentence.

I lifted my hand to comfort him, then hesitated. What if he did not accept my consolation? Well, then, we would be back to square one. And I'd pretty much set up headquarters at square one, and found I could handle it pretty well. So I pushed aside my reservations and laid my hand on Legolas's arm. The only words that came to mind were stupid and not particularly helpful, so I stayed silent.

I left my hand there for a long moment, finally letting it drop when it seemed awkward to touch him for any longer. I had pretty much resigned myself to pretending Legolas didn't exist for another several days, but then he caught my hand in his own. "You are an only child, I presume?" he asked quietly, intertwining his fingers with my own.

My stomach erupted with something giggly and fluttery. A side of me with which I was not well acquainted. "I...erm...no. Wait, I mean...I don't have any siblings." I could practically hear Legolas smirking. I bit my lip against a grin of my own. I was acting utterly ridiculous. And, I didn't care. "What about you?" I asked.

There was a long hesitation, and any humor in the situation was long forgotten when Legolas answered. "I have one," he said finally. "A sister." He hesitated again, then added, "Her name is Lachiel. She just came of age a few years ago."

"What's she like?" I urged, sensing Legolas was about to close the topic.

"She is...very affectionate. She loves Father and me deeply and openly, and is very kind to the servants." Legolas paused, and in the low light, his hesitation to reveal more was clear. "Perhaps, someday, you will meet her," he said, his conclusion decisive.

I didn't press him further-merely relished the warm feel of my hand in his. At length, Legolas stopped walking, urging me to stop as well. "Eda?" There was something undeniable in his tone, something...vulnerable.

My pulse quickened, and I whispered, "Yes?"

He pulled me around to face him, and his eyes glinted blue in the low light. "Forgive me, Eda. Had I known that...that Tauriel-" Legolas winced and looked away. Took a deep breath, then continued. "That Tauriel was with child-" He met my gaze. There was pain swimming in his eyes, grief too deep for me to understand. "I would have found you," he whispered. "I would have cared for you, raised you."

Mordor. Now I was about to cry. "Legolas," I whispered, placing my hand on his muscular chest. His heartbeat was strong beneath my touch. "I do not blame you. For anything."

Brow furrowed in anguish, Legolas closed his eyes and leaned down, resting his forehead on mine. His breath washed over my face as he whispered, "I should have known."

He was so close. So close I could feel our breaths synchronize. If I just brought my lips up to his...

"Look!" exclaimed Merry.

Legolas and I sprung apart. But the troublesome Hobbit was pointing in the opposite direction. He wasn't even looking at us.

"Is that the door outside?" he asked.

"No," Gandalf replied. "This is the Great Realm and Dwarf City of Dwarrowdelf. Let me risk a little more light. ..."

Legolas and I hurried to catch up with the rest of the company. We had reached the end of the corridor, and entered a massive hall lined with elaborate chiseled pillars.

Samwise drew in a slow gasp. "Well there's an eye-opener, and no mistake."

We began walking through the room. It was enormous, and after the door behind us disappeared, it began to feel as though we were in place-save the countless pillars we passed.

Then Gandalf's staff illuminated something up ahead. A Dwarvish skeleton. And another, and another.

Gimli gave a wordless exclamation and sprinted forward.

"Gimli!" Gandalf called. When Gimli didn't respond, Gandalf led the company charging after the Dwarf.

We came to a secure room situated just off the mass of Dwarrowdelf. Inside, Gimli was kneeling before a large stone tomb and grieving loudly.

The room was a smelly mess. There were a handful of bodies, all in positions of rest. There were no bloodstains on the floor, and one even had a book in its bony lap, so these Dwarves hadn't fallen in battle. Discarded axes littered the floor, and yellowing sheets of paper were scattered across the back of the room.

Gandalf gingerly moved between the bodies and went to the tomb. "'Here lies Balin,'" he read, "'son of Fundin, lord of Moria.'" Gandalf sighed. "He is dead, then." Gandalf removed his hat. "It is as I feared."

Gimli gave another wail and rested his forehead against the stone.

Aragorn sighed and whispered to Legolas, "As little as I like the idea myself, perhaps we should rest here. It's been a long day's journey, and we'll not find a safer place."

Legolas shook his head. "We cannot linger. This place is foul, and has already been breached."

Gandalf handed his hat and staff to Pippin, then turned to the skeleton holding the book. Very carefully, he pushed its bony hand off the cover and lifted the record, then blew off a thick layer of dust. The brittle pages crackled as Gandalf opened the book and began to read.

"'They have taken the bridge, and the second hall.'" I closed my eyes, imagining a Dwarf, weak with hunger, recording his company's heartless fate. "'We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums...drums in the deep.'"

Gandalf turned the page, its noise echoing in the silent room. "'We cannot get out," he continued. "'A shadow moves in the dark.'" Chills ran down my spine, and I suddenly felt cornered. "'We cannot get out.'" Gandalf looked up, a sober expression on his face as he whispered the last sentence. "'They are coming.'"

A squeak drew everyone's attention to Pippin. He guiltily jumped away from an armored skeleton sitting on the edge of a well. Its helmeted head rolled back into the well, clattering against the sides as it fell.

Then the rest of the body followed.

And the bucket.

And the chain.

Pippin winced as it echoed repeatedly through the cavernous expanse of Moria.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf exclaimed, snapping the book shut. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" He snatched away his hat and staff, giving Pippin a disgusted glare.

A drum beat echoed through Moria. Then another, and another-then a pattern began.

Boromir turned and ran to the door, looking out. Two arrows struck the wood inches from his face, and he recoiled.

"Get back," Aragorn said to the Hobbits. He glanced at me. "You, too. Stay close to Gandalf." Then he joined Boromir. Together, they managed to pull the rotting doors closed.

A massive roar echoed out.

In a disgustedly-amused tone, Boromir said, "They have a cave troll."

Legolas trotted around the room, snatching up fallen axes and tossing them to Aragorn, who used them to bar the doors shut.

Gandalf drew his sword, and I followed suit, as did Frodo, Samwise, and Merry. But Pippin shuffled to the back of our little group, not carrying any weapons.

"Pippin," I said, wide-eyed. "Where's your sword?"

"I...I left it behind a ways back. I forgot about it, and when I remembered...I didn't want to cause any trouble." Shame washed over his expression, and dropping his gaze to the floor, he said, "I'm such a fool."

"Pippin." I leaned down a little, evening our heights. "Keep your chin up," I whispered. Then I handed him one of my swords. "Here, use this. It's a bit longer than the one you had before, but I daresay easier to wield."

He hesitantly took my sword, as though afraid it might shatter if he touched it. Then, with tears in his eyes, he met my gaze. "Thank you, ma'am."

I straightened and gave his hair a light ruffle. "Don't mention it. This is what a team does."

High-pitched squealing drew my attention to the doors. I left the protective circle of Hobbits and strode to the front line. Aragorn, Legolas, and Boromir were waiting, weapons at the ready. A little ways behind, Gimli stood on the tomb, his axe raised menacingly.

Something impacted the doors, and I flinched. Goblin squeals filled the room, and grimy hands grasped at the gaps in the rotting wood. I shuddered. Orcs were bad enough...but goblins were just nasty.

Legolas loosed an arrow, and it found its mark through a small opening in the wood. Aragorn shot an arrow his own, finding a target through the same gap.

Then the doors burst open.

Goblins flooded into the room. Legolas and Aragorn fired into the crowd, thinning the creatures' numbers. A moment later, Boromir leaped into the fray with his broadsword. Then Aragorn tossed aside his bow and drew his own blade.

I felt rather useless, standing in the middle of a battle with everyone else killing all the goblins before they could get to me.

Finally, a goblin slipped past Legolas's arrows and made for the Hobbits. Gandalf would take care of it, but Mordor, I was bored. So I ran after it.

The thing whirled and hissed at me. Eew. Its teeth were long and sharpened, and its eyes were like that of a snake. I took my sword in both hands and swung at its neck. The head came off a little too easily. I shuddered and looked for the next target.

"Eda!" came Gandalf's call.

I turned. He was busy holding off a couple of goblins, but several more had gotten past Boromir and were headed for the Hobbits.

I ran over and began swinging wildly, chopping off limbs and heads and whatever got in the way. Merry joined me, but his swings were hesitant. I blocked an attack for him, quickly ending that goblin's life.

"Don't doubt yourself!" I called, engaging the next goblin. "Trust your instincts and never hesitate."

Gandalf, who had finished off the goblins he'd been engaging, nodded to me. "Thank you."

I nodded back, then trotted across the room to find Boromir. He had been cornered by a number of goblins. He was fighting them off well, but others were getting into the room and staying alive. I tore into Boromir's attackers from behind, swinging frantically. Finally, Boromir was able to come out of his corner and help stem the flow of goblins at the front.

The ground rumbled, and outside, something bellowed a roar. Then a cave troll burst in. Its beady eyes landed on the person it was closest to.

Samwise.

The troll raised its club high above its head. Samwise backpedaled. Stumbled. Fell.

I ran. Grabbed Sam and jumped out of the way. The club struck into the floor, crumbling stone.

I stood and turned to face the troll. I would have to get in close to use my sword. And I wouldn't be able to attack anything much higher than its knees. But it had to be done. Everyone else was battling goblins.

I sprinted at the troll. It raised its club, ready to swing. Eyes widening, I jumped back. But not quickly enough. The club caught me square in the side.

I flew across the room and slammed into stone. Pain raged across my body, and I stared at the ceiling. My vision grew hazy around the edges. And when the darkness came, I welcomed it.