Fiction GotG Chapter 08

Title: Gamble Of The Gods

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either J.R.R. Tolkien’s "Lord of the Rings" universe, nor David and Leigh Edding’s "Belgariad".

Rating: PG

Genre: Crossover of LotR and The Belgariad

Type: WiP

Timeline: LotR- The beginning of the Fellowship (follows the movies mostly.)

The Belgariad- post books. Beldaran is a young woman now, about seventeen now.

Summary: In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.

Chapter Eight

After the impromptu game of tag, the smaller members of the group were quite worn out. Aragorn had barely assigned the watch when Beldaran had curled up in her single blanket and had drifted asleep. The rest of the group watched her indulgently, most of them unconsciously assigning Bel the title of little sister. But soon, their delight in her fresh manner was overcome by the need for sleep. Gimli took first watch, which amounted to little more than keeping the fire fed with the little wood they’d brought.

Gimli passed his watch to Legolas and the Elf dutifully carried on tending the fire. And when his watch was done, it was Boromir’s turn. But once he’d woken Aragorn, the Ranger wisely decided to let the fire die down a bit. As the cold crept in to the sleeping forms, they’d be more amenable to rising and moving about for body heat. It was then that he heard the unholy shriek.

Beldaran remembered the birds flying above her and the rest of the company as they hid. She flinched as their sickening desire for blood made her want to be ill. She tried to force her mind away from the disgusting images they gave her. But as they wheeled away to return to Saruman, it was as if they swooped her along with them. She knew then that it was a dream.

They flew miles in seconds, as dream birds were wont to do. Beldaran felt the lurch in the pit of her dream stomach at the sudden dive the flock took. A phosphorus smell assaulted her nose as the birds made their way underground. They kept flying, but Beldaran ground to a stop, caught by the mesmerizing glare of a white-robed man. He was tall, thin, wearing a malicious grin on his narrow face.

"So Gandalf," he intoned. "You try to lead them over Caradhras. And if that fails, where then will you go?" He mused as he surveyed the work being done below ground. "If the mountain defeats you, will you risk a more dangerous road?" He was so amused that he knew the mind of Gandalf better than the wizard himself did. "Moria!" Suddenly, Bel felt the dream shift. They were in a room in a tower. She’d been in enough towers in her life to recognize them. The white robed man was idly leafing through a book. "You fear to go into those mines. The dwarves delved too greedily and too deep." His eyes widened gleefully as he beheld the final page.

Beldaran was afraid at what the page might behold, but she had to know. She crept forward and glanced down. "You know what they awoke in the darkness of Khazad-dum." Bel jumped a little as the man continued, until she realized that oddly, he was still addressing Gandalf. "Shadow and flame!" Beldaran gasped as she saw the nightmare before her, lifting from the page, as real as if she were touching her own mother. She shrank back, knowing now what they would face.

"So little one," Beldaran spun around. The man’s attention was focused on her, aware of her presence now. "You see me. You have power. But I also see you. I see all of you. I know all of you. Abandon this foolish quest. Join me! Join Sauron!"

The voice was mesmerizing. And it felt familiar to her for some reason. And suddenly she remembered. The day that lived in her history. The real history. When Poledra had used Pol’s form to shriek defiance at the maimed God Torak. Resolve stiffened her spine. She could do no less against this madman, for she knew who he was. Her voice tight and high, but more powerful than a hurricane, was directed all at him. "Noooo!"

She sat up, gasping for breath. Aragorn reached her side quickly as she began to shake. "Bel?"

"Get him out!" she screamed grabbing wildly at her head as the last remnants of his

voice worked in her. "Get him out!"

"What’s going on?" Gandalf demanded, kneeling at her side as she began to rock back and forth, her head buried in her hands. The others, also woken by her shriek had gathered close, but not too close. They knew to let Gandalf and Aragorn handle it.

"He’s in my head," she moaned, still rocking. Gandalf grabbed her hands and stilled her.

"Who child?" he asked gruffly, already fearing her answer. She shuddered once and laid back, her hands still in his.

"Saruman," she whispered. Gandalf and Aragorn exchanged frenzied looks.

"What did he say?" Aragorn implored. They needed to know the threats Saruman laid upon her.

"He knows me," she replied brokenly. Tears fell from her eyes, rolling quickly upon her temple and into her bedroll. "He knows all of me." Suddenly Legolas was there, gathering her in his arms as she cried. He glared at the other two, silently warning them to let her be now. Gandalf nodded and rose on unsteady feet.

"When she’s ready, we will go," he instructed the Elf. Legolas gave no indication that he heard all his focus on calming Bel.

It took less time than expected for Bel to compose herself. Yet the fellowship took care to be gentle with her. They ate a quick breakfast and gathered their gear. A silent fear gnawed at each of them. Fear, revulsion, anger all roiled together in their minds that Saruman had attacked the woman they all adored. They began their trek once more up Caradhras. But once they’d gone a little way, Gandalf decided that he needed to discuss her dream with her while it was still fairly fresh in her mind. He called Legolas to him and commanded the Elf to bring her to the front of the line. The Elf looked a little mutinous, but knew that it was better for Beldaran to deal with this, instead of letting the dream fester like an infection under the skin.

"My lady," he spoke a little louder than normal, as the wind across the mountain had picked up. Beldaran glanced up at him, then swiftly down again. After recovering herself and finding him holding her, she was even shyer with him now. "Gandalf wishes to speak with you." Beldaran sighed and was about to trudge forward, when she took in Legolas’ stance on top of the snow.

"Now why didn’t I think of that," she muttered. Legolas looked at her, puzzled, until she jumped above the snow. But when she came back down, she didn’t sink. "That’s better!" She grinned up at him and he was delighted to see a little of her playfulness back. He led her towards the wizard, who rolled his eyes when he saw them both above the snow. Berating them for showing off was not what he wanted to do, even though Gandalf was sure every member of the party was fed up with the Elf for not being bothered by the snow and driving cold. Legolas couldn’t help being an Elf, but now Beldaran had joined him. It irked him for petty reasons that he should have been above, but inwardly, relished for a moment.

"I think it’s time we discuss you’re dream, child," he spoke loudly. Beldaran winced a little, then shook her head. "My dear, it would be better if you told me, got it out in the open. We need to know if Saruman has control over you."

"He doesn’t," she insisted. Gandalf sighed. "Believe me Gandalf." She stared up at the old wizard. Smiling gently, cursing himself inwardly for being a sentimental old fool, as her doe eyes were really getting to him, he reached out and cupped her face. She swiftly placed her hand over his and opened her mind to him. Gandalf gasped as the enormity of her mind opened to him. There was nothing he could easily discern, but the sense of her purity. There was no hint of Saruman anywhere. She released him.

"I believe."

Legolas watched them with interest, until a small whisper caught at him, on the edge of the stiff wind. He turned his attention to it, knowing that Beldaran was somehow better now. The whisper annoyed him, taunted him. He prowled up and down the line, trying to discern what was bothering him so badly. As they neared the cliff edge they needed to traverse, the feeling grew even stronger. He moved forward to where Gandalf was breaking a path in the waist deep snow with his staff. At the cliff edge, he peered through the swirling snowflakes, his eyes searching, but seeing little.

"There’s a fell voice on the wind," he yelled a warning.

"It’s Saruman!" Gandalf yelled back, fully aware. His voice echoed among the storm, causing a brief fall of rocks. Legolas and the rest of the company reacted immediately. The Elf pulled the tiny woman into the wall of the mountain, shielding her body from the danger. He felt her cold and instinctively tried to warm her, but she pushed him away once the rocks had fallen away over the side. He let her, knowing better that the middle of a snowstorm was the worst possible moment for wooing.

"He’s trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn yelled, still only barely heard by the rest. "Gandalf, we must turn back!"

"No!" Gandalf shook his head as he forced his way to the cliff edge. Beldaran joined him as he raised his staff, desperately trying to calm the mountain storm that raged upon them. She’d heard many lectures in her life about the dangers of tapering with weather. She hoped Gandalf would calm the rage around them swiftly. Suddenly, the booming voice of Saruman came clearly to them all; a second’s notice before the bolt of lightning hit the mountainside. For a second time they threw themselves back as snow avalanched over them.

Legolas, being on top of the snow, was able to burst through a little more easily than the others were and he quickly helped dig them out. He counted bodies quickly; the bottom of his stomach dropping away when he realized someone was missing. "Where’s Beldaran?" he shrieked, panic already setting in. No one answered, as they looked as one to the cliff edge. "No!" he screamed, flinging himself towards the edge. Gandalf barely managed to catch his leg, or the Elf would have gone over too. "Let me go!"

"She’s gone, Legolas!" the wizard yelled back. His heart was heavy, seeing the Elf’s grief, knowing it mirrored his own. Legolas shook his head, still trying to break loose. He stilled though, as her sweet voice sounded in his mind.

‘I’m here Legolas…please, help me!’ He renewed his struggle, actually managing to drag Gandalf another foot closer to the edge. He peered over the edge and his heart soared as he saw her, clinging precariously with her hands to a tiny ledge about seven feet down.

"I need a rope!" he demanded. His hand stretched back expectantly, his eyes never leaving her face. His hand closed around a length of it and he fed it over the edge until a good portion of it was near her. With relief he saw her grab it with one hand and quickly wrap it a few times around her palm. He shifted to his knees as he began to haul her up.

When Gandalf realized that Legolas really did see her and was really pulling her up, he scrambled to help. In minutes, her full head of bright red hair appeared and Gandalf steadied Legolas as the Elf reached out to help her the rest of the way. Once he’d pulled her from the chasm, he wrapped his arms about her waist, burying his face in her neck as she clung to him.

The fellowship released a sigh of relief, but her shivering form just reinforced what they all knew. "We must get off the mountain!" Boromir yelled finally. "Make for the gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!""

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn argued.

"We can not pass over a mountain!" Gimli growled. "Let us go under it. Let us go through the Mines of Moria!" Gandalf shuddered at the mere mention. Hints of memory teased at him and he was silent as he tried to decide. Caradhras wouldn’t be stilled. Isengard was as much a danger. But every inch of his being recoiled from Moria.

"Let the Ring bearer decide!" he turned to face Frodo, as did the others. Boromir pressed his case to the Hobbit, playing on Frodo’s sense of responsibility.

"We cannot stay here!" he yelled in general. "This will be the death of the Hobbits! It almost killed Bel already!"

"Frodo?" Gandalf let the halfling know that it was up to him. The hobbit glanced around at the freezing, desperate faces, and then back at Bel’s still shivering form. They needed to get her, all of them, somewhere protected and sheltered.

"We will go through the mines!" he decided. Gandalf ducked his head, knowing that as distasteful as it was to him, he had let the choice fall to another. He could not argue it now.

"So be it."

Chapter Nine