Eleven

Squelch. Squish.

I grimaced. Each step I took seemed to thunder throughout Moria. If we were trying to be quiet, I had certainly guaranteed that each and every creature had heard us by now.

Time passed slowly, and I started to relax, as it seemed we were the only beings in the tunnels of Moria—for now. Our footsteps echoed in the halls, which eventually disappeared into dirt and rock paths. I kicked a small stone across the floor, which made me jump, causing Frodo to walk right into my back. He fell backwards. "Oh!"

"A—are y—you all r—right?!" I asked, holding out my hand to help him up. So much for protecting him.

He just nodded, looking a little scared. I knew how he felt. The darkness of Moria was thick and daunting, and it seemed impossible to breathe.

The majestic hall soon turned into sheer cliffs, which only had a small path beside them, which was barely wide enough for me to put my feet beside each other. I didn't look down as we kept walking. The mere thought of being so high made me feel sick to my stomach.

Gandalf, who was leading the way as always, stopped and turned to us. "The wealth of Moria…was not in gold, or jewels…" He tilted his staff down to the darkness beneath us. "But Mithril."

We all leaned over, but not too far to see what the light illuminated. Row upon row of ladders disappeared into the shafts below. Veins of silver Merry leaned forward further, but Pippin put a cautious hand across his chest.

Gandalf took the staff away, and continued on. "Bilbo…had a shirt of Mithril rings that Thorin gave him."

"Oh, that was a kingly gift!" Gimli exclaimed.

"Yes. I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire," Gandalf mumbled.

I raised my brows. Now that was a lot of money.

We soon came to face a steep set of stairs. They seemed to go straight up, and I whimpered a little. Dwarves apparently weren't afraid of heights.

The rest of the Fellowship didn't share my fears, though. They all started to climb without hesitation, and I just watched, shaking a little.

I felt a hand on my arm, and I turned. Legolas was looking at me, a glimmer of concern in his eyes. "Are you…afraid of heights?" He had a small smile on his face, and I couldn't tell whether it was out of amusement or pity.

I just turned back to the stairs, glaring at them with a sudden rush of determination. I felt the urge to prove myself to the Elf, and I started to climb. A swoop in my stomach reminded me of my fear, but I wasn't exactly ready to give up. My foot slipped suddenly and I started to plunge down to the bottom. "No, no!"

Before my scream could leave my throat, a cool hand grabbed my own, stopping me from falling. I looked up and saw Boromir staring down at me, an unreadable look in his light eyes. "T—thank you…"

He just grunted, then pulled me up so I was beside him. He helped me to navigate the stair, and we were one of the first to reach the top. When we did, we stood there awkwardly. I didn't really talk to Boromir; I didn't trust him. I was sure he was only in this for the Ring.

Gandalf was the last to join the Fellowship, but made his way to the front of the pack again. He led us up a much less steep staircase, and we finally came to a crossroad in the mines of Moria. Three tunnels branched out from the path. All were dark and unlit, like the rest of the mines.

Gandalf stopped and stood for a moment, observing the tunnels. Finally he whispered, "I have no memory of this place."

It was cold and dark. I shivered, and wrapped my cloak closer around me. Gandalf sat close to the tunnels, muttering to himself as he tried to figure out our path. Merry and Pippin whispered to each other, and Frodo helped Sam fold some clothing.

I looked to the small cluster that Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas and Gimli had created. I was sitting a few feet away from them. Like the rest of the Fellowship, they were talking quietly, but I could make out a few words. "Gandalf…path…lost…"

Lost?! We couldn't be lost?! I mean, we just needed to find out where to go, right? That wasn't lost...

Was it?

My stomach growled, and it made a rather loud sound in the tunnels. Everyone looked at me, and my face burst into heat. "S—sorry," I mumbled, as I rooted around in my bag for a piece of bread. I tore some off the loaf, and bit into it. It was a little stale around the edges, and it hurt going down. But it was food.

I longed for a book, or a piece of paper to draw on, or even some string to play Cat's Cradle with. The only thing to do was to sit and wait. I un-braided then re-braided my hair three times. My hair was starting to get long.

I heard Gimli heave a great sigh, and I raised my eyes to the craggy rocks. There didn't seem to be a ceiling. There was just mines, further than the eye could see. I dragged my fingertip along the stone I sat on. I was started to get tired.

My eyes fluttered a little, and I yawned. I slowly leaned down, using my bag for a pillow. Not the most comfortable resting place, but...it would...do...

I was startled awake after what seemed like a second by Gandalf's loud cry.

"Oh. It's that way!"

Everyone looked to the Wizard, who had not spoken for a while.

"He's remembered!" Merry rejoiced, getting up.

We gathered our things and crowded around the Wizard. "No," Gandalf said, "but the air doesn't smell as foul down here. When in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."

We followed Gandalf down the tunnel, which soon led out into an open area—I could tell by the cold air and the whistling of wind from the outside.

"Let me risk a little more light," Gandalf murmured, and waved his hand over his staff, and the light grew brighter. "Behold…the great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf."

The light shone upon a grand hall made of stone. Pillars stood tens of feet above us, and some were crumbled. Arched ceilings joined them together, and this stretched on as far as the eye could see.

Beside me, I heard Sam mutter, "Now, that's an eye opener and no mistake."

We ventured out into the hall, peering around the columns. I looked down the hall, staring into the pitch black; it was mesmerizing.

Suddenly, the Dwarf of the Fellowship gave a loud cry. We all turned, and saw Gimli running towards a chamber where light shone—it must be daytime outside. This bit of information from the real world brought me back from what seemed like a very long sleep in the mines of Moria.

We all ran after Gimli, crying his name. Before I reached the chamber, I heard him sobbing. I saw him kneeling beside a great stone tomb, his head bowed. "No! No! No!"

I walked over, and I hesitated before putting a hand on his shoulder. He shook as he cried, and I knelt down beside him. He didn't seem to notice that I was there, but it was the least I could do.

"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria. He is dead then. It is as I feared." Gandalf's words seemed to fall upon deaf ears. It was like I was underwater, every noise muffled and distant

Tears started to blur my vision. My throat was tight, and it was bringing back memories of my father's tomb. He was buried by the lake near Bree. He was gone. Dead. Never to return.

My body stiffened, and I stood, distancing myself from the rest of the Fellowship. My lips pressed together in a thin line. I could hear my mother's wails of pain, in my head. I shook my head, trying to rid the sound from my memory.

"We must move on," Legolas whispered. "We cannot linger."

Gandalf had picked up a book. He flipped through the wrinkled pages. He stopped at an entry near the back of the book. "'They have taken the bridge…and the second hall."

Gimli's sobbing stopped, and the only thing I could hear was the rustle of pages in the old book.

"We have barred the gates…but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums…drums in the deep." As he turned the page, dark brown splotches caught my eye—dried blood. "We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out. They are coming."

The silence is broken by a loud creak.

We all whipped towards the sound, and saw Pippin twist an arrow in a corpse sitting atop a stone well. The skull of the corpse fell off, banging through the well with an echoing crash. As Pippin turned around, a guilty look on his face, the remainder of the corpse slipped into the well. The crashes echoed through the room, and with every bang, Pippin flinched.

I didn't dare to breathe—whatever was in the mines of Moria must have heard us by now. As the sound faded away, we waited, and there was nothing. I exhaled long and loud as Gandalf slammed the book shut.

"Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!"

Boom.

My spine straightened.

Boom. Boom-boom. Boom-boom-boom. Boom-boom-boom-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM! It was like a heartbeat, continuous and steady.

Terror seeped into my face, and I turned in alarm as a screech rang through the tunnels.

"Orcs!" Legolas groaned, and Boromir ran to the doors to bar them. He stepped back, crying out as arrows whizzed past his face and into the wooden doors.

I whimpered. I was not ready for this.

A bellow was heard, and I rushed to the doors to help Boromir shut them—they were quite heavy, but we managed to close them. He slumped against them. "They have a cave troll."

Legolas tossed weapons to Aragorn, Boromir and I. I caught an axe, and I was almost pulled down by the weight. I struggled to bring it back up and used it to secure the door.

We immediately stepped back from the door, drawing our weapons. I gripped my sword in both hands, and I could see it shaking—I was trembling. Legolas, who was standing next to me, looked over and gave me a reassuring nod.

Gimli, who was standing atop Balin's tomb and gave a loud battle cry. "Yah! Let them come! There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

The booms were getting louder, and the doors were being pounded against—I could see them rattling with each hit. The Orcs were trying to break the door down, and different weapons started to splinter the door.

I took a sharp breath in as a gap was broken through the door. Legolas shot an arrow through it, and a shrill cry rang out. He immediately nocked another arrow.

Suddenly, the Orcs broke through the door. They all charged towards us, brandishing their weapons. I didn't know what to do for a moment, and I was frozen. Then it was like instinct took over—my thoughts followed my actions.

I slashed out at anything my eyes fell upon—whatever I considered to be an enemy. I hadn't died yet, so I thought I was doing all right.

Suddenly a roaring moan assaulted my ears. A large troll smashed through the door, a club in its large hands and chains attached to its wrists. The chains led down into the hands of an Orc.

An arrow flew above my head, sinking into the flesh of the troll, who bellowed in pain. He started swinging wildly with his club, and I moved quickly out of the way before I could be struck.

I flattened myself against the wall, and an Orc moved towards me quickly, snarling threateningly. I was a frozen for a moment, but then gave a loud cry, driving through the creature with my sword.

I pulled it out of him; it collapsed, and blood ran down my sword. I looked at it for a moment, the realization of what I was doing finally hitting me. I had killed. Taken someone's life.

Standing there blindly wasn't going to do me any good—and the Orcs took advantage of that. The wind was knocked out of me as one tackled me to the ground. Its evil red eyes bored into my grey ones, and my breath caught in my throat with terror.

It took a fistful of hair, and yanked my head back, exposing my throat. I trembled with fear, and it pulled out a long, thin dagger. I whimpered as the Orc touched the blade to my skin, and closed my eyes.