Book 1: Where It Began [Legolas]

Chapter 7

There was little light in the darkness that surrounded them as they continued on the path. But what did leak through came seeping through the cracks and holes in the high ceiling above allowing streams of sunlight to spill in as the sun rose outside. But that only revealed more of the bones and corpses around them. Linnéa's heart broke further. It was clear to her that Gimli was struggling as well, refusing to look at the ground so as not to witness their decaying people, but one could still hear the crunching of bones if accidentally stepping on them. Those from Erebor refused to show weakness in front of the others as they carried on. Now was not the time to break down, but looking at the still equipment of the mines gave off a haunting feeling. The once lively and active home was now just an empty shell.

"The wealth in Moria is not in gold or jewels," Gandalf's quiet voice carried from up ahead, "but mithril."

Taking the staff in hand as they came to a particular section of the mines it cast light over the edge. It revealed the glimmering silver rivets that ran through the stone, chucks of it laying forgotten in the mining equipment. All in the company excluding the Dwarves looked on in wonder at the sight before the light pulled away once more covering the chasm in the shadows.

"Bilbo had a shirt of mithril rings that Thorin gave him," the Wizard stated.

"Oh, that was a kingly gift," Gimli gasped.

Linnéa nodded in agreement. Her mother told her of the Hobbit's gift. He had been contracted to receive a share of what was recovered in the Mountain. Yet when the Dwarves won back their home, Bilbo didn't ask for anything in return for his service as a burglar to assist her father. They had inherited her father's claim from being nobility, but Poppy also didn't ask for her share either. Content with living in Erebor and working as a blacksmith, while a member of the King's Council.

"Yes," Gandalf agreed. "I never told him, but it's worth was greater than the value of the Shire."

Giving a small smile over his shoulder, the young woman couldn't help but allow a small one to slip through. Even with that knowledge, Bilbo would have probably stayed in Bag End and continued to live out his days.

It grew dark again as they traveled deeper inside, coming to a set of stairs so steep and worn it forced the Fellowship to climb up as if ascending a steep ladder. Helping one another and out of breath they came to a ledge that looked over the way they had come and sat before three doorways. There were no markings on them, which struck Linnéa as odd. She moved closer to the stone structures and tried to feel around for an engraving of some kind.

"I have no memory of this place," Gandalf muttered.

Without any luck the young woman pulled away running a frustrated hand through the loose hair. She could offer no guidance on the matter on which way to take. Nothing was going according to plan.

They set up camp as the late evening crept up on them, all sleeping on their roll out mats to try and get some rest before continuing on. There was no fire as they nibbled on apples that managed to survive the water beast attack. The silence dragged on for hours. Even when waking and discovering that the older man never left his post in front of the three doorways as he smoked on his pipe in thought. Some stale bread was offered as breakfast. Gimli produced his own pipe from the confines of his belongings, the Hobbits following his lead and allowing the wisps to circle around them. Even Aragorn joined in a few minutes later, but it was something that the prince of the Woodland Realm showed no interest in partaking in. And it was then he noticed one of them was missing. Glancing around he found the young woman sitting away from them. To stare out into the darkness of the mines. He quietly made his way over.