Once again, this is a fanfiction and the songs/original story do not belong to me.

Of-Light-and-Shadow: Thanks for the review! This next chapter isn't so much of a cliff hanger? I think?

Lothelen: I'm glad my word choices are approved of :O and thanks for the favourite!

EGGS: Cornelia does have the option of changing things, but at the risk of waltzing into the unknown. As for romance, I'm not entirely sure who suits Cornelia the most at this point. I'm always open to suggestions though!

Antoninsh: Boromir is actually one of my favourite characters :D

Chapter 7

Much to my relief, we do not immediately face danger inside the Mines of Moria.

It's uncomfortably dark, but plenty quiet—and the frequency of Dwarf skeletons lessens as the path narrows.

We move quietly as church mice at first, Gandalf scolding anyone who so much as breathes aloud. It adds strain to our already tense nerves and, for once, everyone is equally unnerved. Well, maybe Legolas is slightly worse off than the others.

Regardless, the silence is killing us—Pippin and me especially.

I hum a little tune, watching Gandalf's face. He raises an eyebrow but makes no effort to berate me for my noise.

Silent tears stream down Gimli's face, and he chokes not so silent sobs in his throat. I can't even imagine what it is for him to walk through this home of his cousin, now dilapidated beyond reclaim.

I hum something that might be familiar to him, parting my lips to sing liltingly.

"Far over the Misty Moutains rise, leave us standing upon the height. What was before we see once more—in our kingdom a distant light."

Gimli's jaw drops and even Gandalf looks back at me for a long, uncertain, moment.

"We lay under the Misty Mountain's cold, in slumbers deep, and dreams of gold. We must awake, our lives to make—and in the darkness a torch we hold."

A tear wells up in my eye and I hold my voice steady, conveying a soothing tone to my words.

"Some folk we never forget, some kind we never forgive—haven't seen the end of it yet, we'll fight as long as we live . . . Far away, the Misty Mountain's cold."

Gimli inhales sharply, hiccoughing and wiping tears. "How do you know that song?"

"I know many songs; both those that are known and those that are not yet sung." I trail off softly.

He snuffles loudly, clearing his throat. "You sing very beautifully."

I thank him quietly. I can sing fairly well, but only because I am uncannily talented at mimicry.

Eventually, our sense of night diminishes and we are all yawning as we walk. Gandalf finally calls a rest

Sam passes around some rations on Aragorn's bidding. Pippin yawns through his light meal and Merry sits carefully on a rock, measuring the distance to the edge dubiously.

"Say, Cornelia—what happened to that queen after?"

"Cornelia Domitius?" I ask.

"Yeah,"

I gather my thoughts for a moment. "She went on to rule her land by the name of Belliel, and the people worshipped her as an avatar of righteous calamity."

"Righteous calamity?" Sam echoes. "That doesn't sound very good."

It doesn't surprise me that Sam would say that.

"Some would say that Belliel became a force of nature, an agent of balance deified though the birth of an avenging queen."

Aragorn watches the dark, one ear angled my way; feigning disinterest.

"The land was amuck with strife, both inside and outside the boarders of Cyth. The lands around her vied for status, but Belliel did not yearn for more land or power—did not need it either. What she sought was a unified peace across all the lands her people called home.

"However, she was no great speaker or lady of charismatic stature."

Boromir scoffs. "What good was she to her people if she could not negotiate with others to secure their peace, much wanted as it was?"

I ignore him for the moment.

"Still, the people of Cyth had every faith in their leader, despite her strange ways . . . for she was one who spoke clearly through her actions, and her efforts were rarely in vain.

"There were two major conflicting peoples on either side of Cyth. During her father's reign these two kingdoms would fight in the southern plains of Cyth, at a locations known historically as the Fields of Rolling Green. Belliel knew the value of these lands, and wished to reclaim and restore them to their former glory.

"She first asked that the kings of opposing sides cease their bickering on her land. But they would not march their armies the long way round the young queen's land for something as simple as a request.

"One, King Wilther, replied he would cease only if she married his son and ceded her land to them. The other ignored her entirely."

Boromir laughs at this, and Gimli makes a sound that says he knows exactly how Belliel is going to answer.

I toss my nose into the air, shaking my hair from my face. "That was, of course, a grave insult."

"What did she do?" Pippin whispers, earnestly.

"You see, Cyth was an arid land with an extensive irrigation system. During the rainy season the flat lands would flood by the aid of a great dam, and the water collected would be used during the dry season for raising crops.

"The two armies met at the end of the dry season, after Cyth collected the harvest and their need for water lessened. Further still, the rains had been plentiful that year, and whether it was coincidence—or divine intervention—Belliel had control of a small sea.

"On the fifth day of battle, Belliel released the dam."

I wonder if I was inspired by the future events of this world, or if this is simply where my muse took me. Either way, I imagine what Merry's and Pippin's expression will be in Isengard when Treebeard calls for the dam to be broken.

"The armies of the two kings were washed off the plains, the survivors in such a pitiful state that by the time Belliel marched to their flooded encampments both generals readily agreed to her offer of aid.

"She wasn't so kind as to unconditionally offer them aid, and promised that she would see them suffer should they insist on resuming hostilities. She would walk away if they did not call a truce."

"And did they?" Legolas asks.

"They did indeed. The flooding could be seen as nothing other than an enchantment upon Belliel's land, bent to her every whim and will.

"What was the Battle of the Rolling Green came to be known as Belliel's Mustering, as both armies pledged allegiance to her and her people."

"And the kings?" Boromir queries.

"They conceded Belliel's strength and flew her banner in their capitals, acknowledging her power over them and the very land they sat upon."

They recognize after a moment that the story has finished and Merry and Pippin jump to discussing it, Sam occasionally commenting. Frodo contemplates silently and Gimli nods appreciatively. They are all distracted from darker thoughts for the moment.

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