Ashes of mordor

Rest in peace my friend

Ash's POV

"Look at you two.. it's a miracle you didn't break something.. what would your mothers say if I let you get hurt?" I mumbled as I looked over the two, remembering how I'd seen hobbit mothers be surprisingly versatile with a wooden spoon. Merry swatted my hand away while pippin insisted "we're fine! Sure aren't we pippin? I've never been better!" He yells, merry nodding vigorously behind. I could practically see Fili and Kili in front of me, but I shook the thought from my mind and patted their shoulders for them to go on.

I could practically feel my nose bleeding again, I just wiped it away and hoped this time it would leave me alone. We walked up to the gate of the dwarvish land. Though I couldn't smell it I was imagining the warm welcome and piles of food from the dwarvish population. I had been dying to have some meat lately and my worry for balin's lack of contact was growing by the day.

Gandalf squinted as he stared at the door's dwarvish ruins. "It reads, 'The door of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.'" He stated. I tried to think but I never remember the dwarves ever telling me what friend was in their language. I barely understood it to begin with.

I strolled over to my brother and rested my head on his shoulder, ignoring the world around us. "Man cerig?" He asked me, not bothering to turn his head but glancing at me. "Resting my head on your shoulder. What does it look like brother?" I asked him as I did the same, absentmindedly rubbing my nose to make sure there wasn't any more blood. "Pedig edhellen? I swear those dwarves have taught you nothing but I'll manner towards your kin" Legolas asked me but it sounded more like a statement. I took my head away from him and turned to him.

"I see your still closed minded. Boe for me to speak elvish? Maybe I like talking in a language most understand. I like them because they haven't decided my life for me. That's why you left isn't it? PRINCE Legolas?" I spat at him with venom in my tone. He crossed his arms and sucked on his teeth. "I left with a sense of duty and permission from father. Unlike you! Running off because you didn't like your destiny! You are such a child it's a miracle father could find someone wishing to wed you" He told me, his words felt like daggers in my chest but I will stand to my last word. "Well how strange, maybe I don't want someone choosing my damn fate! I like being able to decide when and where I do something and how the hell I do it! Father burnt letters sent to me by my friends so I snuck out more after I decided to say just so I could get away from the constant arguing whenever I wanted to make a decision for myself ! I don't want to be married. If I had a damn choice I would have stayed in erabor where people actually care what u think and don't shove their opinions down my throat!" I screamed at him, I could no longer control my rage. I didn't care if my argument was wrong, my rage was blinding my sense.

"Then maybe we should depart again after this journey. I'll never see you and you can never go home if you despise your kin and our birthplace so much!" He screamed back at me, Aragon appearing behind him and putting a hand on his shoulder, stating "enough Legolas" but I wasn't don't. With as much venom as I could muster, I questioned "Gwestog?". A small hand grabbed my wrist and guided me away. I looked down to see Frodo. He brought me to the lake side, forced me to sit down and smiled. "Splash some water on your face. Uncle always said that seemed to calm you down when you.. get stressed" he said. He patted my head and then went back to Gandalf.

Hours of silence between my and my own brother passed as I lay with my boots off and my feet in the water, letting my rage go and figuring out a way to apologise without starting another fight. "Ash!! Gandalf got it! He got it!" Merry screamed at me. I put back on my shoes and notices all the ponies were gone. I glanced at Aragon who just nodded at me confirming my thoughts. I quickly followed the fellowship into the newly opened crack in the dark empty entrance of Moria. It's easily quiet, even for dwarvish standards. I expected atleast the faint cheer of drinking and the sound of cracklings fires melting the metal and keeping their homes warm. But I heard nothing except our own footsteps.