CHAPTER SEVEN - Enter Orcs, Puking, and Lots of Running

Immediately, Boromir went to close the rotted wooden doors through which they had originally entered. Meanwhile, Aragorn got busy with directing all the "battle-challenged" individuals in the room.

"Get back!" he shouted. "And stay close to Gandalf!"

Meghan had half a mind to just start screaming, right then and there. The other half of her mind was performing lightning-fast calculations. She glanced around the room, looking for an escape route. None to be had. They were trapped.

More importantly, she was trapped.

"Umm…" she squeaked. "I don't know how to fight at all!"

She felt a reassuring hand on her arm. "Stay by me. I will protect you."

Great. The clothing model to save the day. But at that point, Meghan would take anybody. If she remembered anything from her friends' frequent conversations, the battles typically didn't go well.

"Legolas," she said shakily, "the first thing we're doing once we get out of here is some major weapons training stuff."

"Agreed," he replied before turning away from her to toss various weaponry to Aragorn and Boromir, who were blockading the door. An enormous roar echoed through the room.

"They have a cave-troll," Boromir said in sarcastic joy.

Meghan gasped. "Like in Harry Potter?!"

But everyone was far too busy to answer her. Especially Gimli, who was being very Dwarvish and heroic by standing menacingly atop Balin's tomb. He growled. "Let them come! There is one dwarf yet in Moria that still draws breath!"

The next few minutes of Meghan's life hardly bear description. It is a miracle that she even survived that encounter with Orcs and a pesky troll. Or perhaps Legolas had a little more to do with it than anything else. Meghan mostly huddled away in one corner of the room with Legolas darting around to kill all the Orcs that came at her, and also help other members of the Fellowship.

Meghan herself was fighting the most massive attack of sickness that had ever overcome her. She had her eyes tightly squinched shut, but just the sounds were enough to make bile rise in her throat.

Finally, she heard a huge thud and she looked up to see the cave-troll lying in a heap on the floor and all the Orcs had fled. The Fellowship was gathering around the apparently dead body of Frodo.

Dismissing the concern that the Hobbit really was dead, Meghan shook her head and tried to gather her wits. She took a good look around the room.

Bad idea.

The twisted and fresh corpses of the Orcs sent her stomach into a roller-coaster of nausea. She tasted the vile tang of queasiness and before she knew what had hit her, she was doubled over her knees, vomiting.

Feeling the acute misery that only completely emptying your stomach can bring, she wiped her lips and tried to think of other things. Such as getting furiously angry at the Fellowship for no good reason. What the heck were they talking about over there, anyway? Why weren't they leaving?

She peeked over to the group, but one little glance was enough to undo her. She threw up again, and almost kicked the ground in frustration. Actually, the only thing that stopped her was the fact that she was on her knees. So she resorted to pounding the stone floor with her fist.

That drew the attention of Pippin, who hurried over and laid a hand on her back. "Meghan?" he asked tentatively.

"I'm fine," Meghan said, but she didn't open her eyes. "Just a little sick. Once we leave I'll be fine."

The Orcs obliged her. They screamed and made a ruckus outside, thus prompting Gandalf into action.

"To the bridge of Khazad-Dûm!" he shouted.

Meghan dragged herself to her feet and willed her eyes to open. Still, she was convinced that she'd just puke again.

Pippin knew just what to do. He grasped Meghan's hand and put it on his tiny shoulder. "Just until we're out of this room," he said quickly as he hurried after the Fellowship with Meghan (her eyes still shut) tagging closely behind.

They quickly left the chamber and once again entered the marble hall. Meghan let her hand drop from Pippin's shoulder and popped her eyes open. Now she that she was away from the grisly scene from the fighting, she felt better.

Then she noticed that they were being following by a rather large collection of extremely unattractive people.

The Orcs were jeering and screeching like banshees as they rushed, en masse, toward the Fellowship. Hundreds of other goblins swept in from the other sides, blocking them into a perfect circle.

"You guys are so UGLY!" Meghan shouted irately.

The next thing she knew, they were all scattering with shrieks of terror as a red glow appeared farther down the hall.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked in a breathy tone.

"A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world."

Sooooo cliché.

"This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" Gandalf took off at a sprint and the rest of the Company followed suit. Within about ten seconds, Meghan was huffing and puffing.

"DANG!" she screamed randomly, drawing the word out in delicious fury. "Why didn't I decide to do cross-country? Noooo, I had to pick Accounting!"

"Save your breath!" Gandalf shouted.

Meghan was thisclose to yelling at him. But she decided, hey, he's a smart guy. He's probably right.

They ran through many rooms. They ran down many stairs. They also ran up many stairs. Meghan's muscles burned in a way she had never thought possible. Her clothes were sticky with sweat and she whipped her hair away from her face. Stupid hair.

It finally got exciting when they were running down a particularly disconcerting stairway – no railings, and no visible floor. But what really made it exciting was the fact that it had a gap in it.

Meghan stomped her foot and shook with rage. "Peter Jackson should DIE!" she bellowed.

Legolas neatly leapt across the gap. He turned and beckoned to the wizard. "Gandalf!" he urged.

Oh my gosh. That was so dainty.

"No," the wizard objected. "Melethriel first."

Meghan rolled her eyes, but smiled at the same time. Sure, Gandalf had his obnoxious idiosyncrasies, but he was still pretty cool. She steeled herself and jumped down to the lower section of the stairs. Legolas caught her by the shoulders, steadying her landing.

Meghan suddenly remembered the whole drama with the stairs crumbling. "Hurry up everybody!" she said. She hated drama. It was just simply unnecessary when they were fleeing for their lives.

Miraculously, the stairway did not begin to collapse. Meghan felt a disproportionate amount of satisfaction as they all again ran through the vastness of Moria. Surely they were getting closer to the stupid bridge!

Well, duh, there it was. Meghan stumbled onto it before she even realized that it was the bridge.

"AH!" she exclaimed. "That's really skinny!"

"Over the bridge! Fly!" Gandalf shouted.

Meghan whirled around to glare at him. "Do you see how tiny that thing is? And what's up with Dwarves and no hand-rails! This is all to produce pointless tension and suspense!"

"Meghan, run!" Practically everyone shouted, perhaps with the exception of Gimli, who was too busy mourning the loss of Moria's charms.

"Oh, fine!" Meghan snapped. She turned back to the bridge and, gulping in a huge breath, darted across the slender stone pass.

The other side felt remarkably comforting and solid. Meghan stumbled a bit in pure relief as the bridge ended and the regular floor began. She was totally prepared to keep on running from those perfectly odious Orcs, but it seemed as though everyone else had stopped as soon as they got to the other side.

She turned out and saw Gandalf standing in the middle of the bridge. This sight was far less stimulating than the spectacle of a very large, very flame-y monster roaring and hollering on the other side.

"AH!" Meghan screeched in surprise as she grabbed somebody's arm – she didn't really care who it was… it was probably Boromir. "What the heck is that thing?!"

"A Balrog of Morgoth," Legolas said, almost reverent in fear.

Meghan could not think of anything to say. The whole situation could strike anyone dumb.

"You cannot pass!" the wizard snapped, and at that moment, he looked quite wizard-esque. A brilliant light emanated from the tip of his staff, creating an orb of radiance. "I am a servant of the secret fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, Flame of Udûn!"

The Balrog heaved a mighty blow down on Gandalf, but he blocked it with his own sword, splintering the Balrog's red weapon.

"Go back to the Shadow!" Gandalf ordered firmly.

But the Balrog would have none of it. It now flaunted a whip, lashing and cracking it threateningly.

"YOU…SHALL NOT…PASS!" the wizard boomed, and, joining his sword and staff together, brought them both down on the bridge with a dull thump. Sniffing in contempt, the Balrog took one step onto the bridge.

That was enough. The bridge shattered under the weight of the ancient demon, and both stone and Balrog fell into the abyss. Gandalf heaved a weary sigh and turned back to the Fellowship.

Meghan burst into spontaneous applause. "Whoo! I was totally rootin' for y—" Her cheering was abruptly cut short. The Balrog's whip snatched around Gandalf's ankle and dragged him down. He caught the edge of the stone just in time.

"Fly, you fools!" he gasped before simply letting go.

Frodo was screaming something over to Meghan's left, but she didn't pay much attention. She was too confused. What on earth just happened? I thought Gandalf was alive in the next movie…I could have sworn he was!

She couldn't think. It was too difficult to think and run at the same time. And since running was more beneficial to her survival, she chose to run then and think later.

Moments later, the Fellowship burst out of the East Gate of Moria. The sunlight was blinding and Meghan immediately tripped over an unseen stone. She caught herself with her hands and lowered herself to the ground, heaving huge breaths in and out. I have never run so much in my entire life. And I never want to do it again.

Meghan rolled onto her back and stared up into the blue sky. So back to this whole deal with Gandalf. I remember he's in the last movie. So how the heck can he die? A cold feeling swept over her gut. What if I did something that threw off the timing or whatever? No no, that can't right. Or at least, I won't think about that right now. She focused hard on the conversations between Stefanie and Andrea. Didn't they say something about meeting Gandalf in the second one… in a forest. I can't remember! This is so frustrating!

"Legolas, get them up," Aragorn said.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir exclaimed.

"By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs!" Aragorn said. "We must reach the Woods of Lothlórien. Come Boromir, Legolas. Gimli, get them up."

Meghan didn't want to be one of the people's that needed "getting up." She popped to her feet and glanced around. The terrain was similar to the landscape a few miles before Caradhras, except colder. She tightened her cloak around her body.

A moment later, they were all assembled, though looking a little teary – especially the Hobbits. Meghan stuffed her confusion about Gandalf's death down into the deepest depths of her consciousness.

"So, where exactly is this Loth-whatever place?" she asked.

"Southeast from here, and several hours' travel. We must start now to arrive before nightfall," Aragorn replied.

"This means more running, doesn't it," Meghan sighed.

"I am afraid so," Aragorn nodded. "Let us go!"

And with that, they were off.

COMING NEXT TIME! (idea courtesy of bookworm97!)

Will Meghan survive another long run to Lothlórien? Will she back-sass the Elves of the Golden Wood? Will there be (*GASP*) angst over Gandalf's death?

Yesterday, Faramir pulled me aside and told me that he would give a kiss to one lady that reviews. Considering the fact that he hasn't even entered the story yet, I think it's a very generous offer. So here's how it's gonna work – Everybody that reviews will be entered into a raffle for a kiss from Faramir! If, for some strange and inexplicable reason, you wish to be absent from this raffle, just mention it and I shan't put your name into the hat. =)

08.02.07