Well, here it is. First of all, I would like to thank every single one of you for all the support this story has received; it's been absolutely amazing! Next; this probably should have been out a bit ago, but my life has been hectic, and the past two weeks or so have been absolutely terrible. Anyways, I typed for a few hours to finish this off when I really should have been writing a speech for Forensics that I haven't started which is due in a couple of days. Oh, boy...

P.S. I am writing this in school right now...

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this, and please leave a review!


Percy and the rest of the Fellowship escaped out the eastern door in the chamber that they had left open before the battle. When they got out, Percy and Boromir tried to bar the gate to hinder any pursuit. However, although the gates had large iron rings, they could not be fastened, so they had to settle with simply closing the doors as best they could and attempting to barricade them with several spears and halberds from the chamber.

They turned to run down the passage leading down a steep staircase, but Gandalf stayed behind by the gate. "Go," he shouted. "Get down the stairs; wait at the bottom for me, but if I do not come soon, go on! Take paths leading right and downwards."

"We cannot leave you to hold the door alone!" said Aragorn.

"Do as I say! Swords will be of no use here. Go!"

They hurried down the passage, which was utterly dark except for the faint glimmer of Riptide. Frodo's blade was dull for the moment, but that assured the Company very little. Looking over his shoulder as he ran down the stairs, Percy saw nothing but darkness in the distance, but he thought he could hear the echo of Gandalf voice amid the beating drums that reverberated around them.

Suddenly, there was a flash of white that illuminated the tunnel briefly; from behind them everybody could hear a rumble followed by a heavy thud. The beat of the drum intensified and the number of orcs they heard seemed to increase. Due to this, they hurried down the stairs even faster, with Percy taking them four at a time.

Out of the darkness, however, Gandalf came flying down the stairs. He landed in the midst of them right when they reached the bottom. He wearily struggled to his feet, Gimli having to pull him up at the end. "Well, that's that," he muttered, giving no indication of the impending doom. "I have done all I can, but I have met my match and was nearly destroyed."

Everyone else stood by, waiting for an explanation that was not forthcoming. Instead, Gandalf said, "Don't stand here; go on! Go on! Keep close behind, all of you!"

Gandalf led them through the Mines, though they never evaded the sound of drum beats. Doom, doom, they rolled in the deeps. There was no other sound of pursuit, however. Neither the trampling of following feet nor voices were present. The Fellowship seemed to be alone for the moment, yet they did not slow, for they knew that they were in constant danger.

The path Gandalf lead them on must have been traveling exactly where Gandalf wanted to go, for they did not turn left nor right as they pressed on. Ever down and forward they traveled, coming to flights of stairs constantly. In the darkness, Percy noted, it was impossible to detect any stairs until you put your foot forward and was met with only air.

Man, wouldn't it be ironic if we all died by falling off a cliff or something? Or falling into a hole? That would be embarrassing. Goblins and orcs? Pfft, whatever. Nah, we died by falling off stairs.

After an hour, they had gone upwards of a mile or more, although they had traveled down many flights of stairs. There was still no sound of pursuit, and everyone was beginning to think that they might escape.

Soon enough, Gandalf halted after traveling down more stairs. "It is getting hot," he panted. "We should be down at the level of the gates now."

It was there they halted for the moment, and not one was displeased at the rest. After a continuous hour of running, every person was near exhaustion.

Everyone took a few moments to catch their breath and try to get some feeling back in their weary legs. Sam, who was plopped on the floor amid the other three hobbits, looked up and asked, "Gandalf, what happened up at the doors?"

Gandalf looked at Sam out of the corner of his eyes, his face dark. "I do not know," he answered solemnly. "But I found myself faced with something I have not felt before." He looked down and seemed to think. "Well, something I have not felt for many ages, a being filled with darkness and malice.

At the time, the only thing I could think to do was to put a shutting spell on the door. I know many, but they take time to do, and even then the door can be broken by strength.

As I stood there, I could hear orcs on the other side of the door. I thought they would break through at any moment, but they did not. I realize now that they were waiting, as soldiers wait for their king to come to the front. I could not hear much of what was said; I could only make out ghash: that is, 'fire'.

Suddenly, something came into the chamber. I could not see it through the closed doors, but I could sense its malevolent presence as it entered—a dark cloud of despair and hate. The orcs fell silent and afraid as it entered. It laid its hand on the gate and perceived me at once.

What it was I will not say, but long has it been since I have been challenged so—not since the Great Upheaval ages ago, but that is a story for another time. The gate almost broke under the pressure and magic between the two of us. As it is, I had to battle to seal the gate, but its power was too strong: the gate was shattered asunder. For a second, I could see the figure before me—a monster of darkness and fire that blotted out the light from inside the chamber. Then I was thrown down the stairs, but not before the wall gave way, and the whole ceiling collapsed, burying that demon underneath a mountain. At least I hope it is—ill fate would it be for us to encounter it again.

I am afraid Balin is buried deep, Gimli, and no man shall ever look upon his tomb again."

"Gandalf," Legolas began, "the Being you encountered... Was it a—"

Gandalf gave him a glance that answered all his questions.

"A Balrog of Morgoth," Legolas breathed in shock. "Varda help us..."

And far away, atop a mountain shrouded above the clouds, a figure clothed in white and bathed with stars heard this and felt pity.

"A what?" Pippin asked, not feeling very comfortable at where the conversation was going.

"A Balrog—a spirit of darkness and fire created before the beginning of this world. There were many—fallen Maiar who served Morgoth and were corrupted by him. Luckily, many perished in the First Age at the hands of great elven warriors."

"Well, we all know that our lives suck and what some people call "luck" doesn't really exist, especially for us. So now that we're screwed, what are we going to do to possibly give us a chance to almost find a way where we have about a twelve percent chance of maybe getting somewhat close to surviving?" Percy asked.

The others exchanged questioning looks before Aragorn responded. "If what you said almost has the possibility of having a twelve percent chance of making sense," he started with a joking smile, "we are going to proceed as we normally would, albeit more cautious than usual"

"Okay," Percy said back. "Between you and Gandalf, we've been told to be cautious about fifty times, and look where it's gotten us. Heck, I think you said that a couple of hours ago or something. They already know we're here, so I say we get some big-ass drums—"

"Anyways," Gandalf interrupted, "We are getting close to our destination..."

"By 'destination', you mean getting out of this hell hole, right?" Merry asked with a smile. Gimli did not argue.

"Indeed. Let us tarry here no longer; we must set out on the last leg of this venture."


They set off again. As they traveled down the dwarven road, an unmistakable glow was visible far away down the tunnel.

"There is a light down the tunnel," Gimli noted, "but it is not daylight; it is red. What is it , I wonder?"

"Ghash," Gandalf muttered. "The orcs mentioned fire. Is this what they meant? The lower levels are on fire? Still, we must press on."

Very soon, the light could be seen by all, glowing and flickering on the walls of the passage in front of them. For better or for worse, they were now able to see their path: it sloped down swiftly in front of them, leading to a low archway up ahead; it was through this arch that the glow emanated. The air grew very hot.

When they reached the arch, Gandalf bid them wait outside. Hesitantly, he stepped through, only to step back right away, his face washed in amber light. "There is some new devilry here," he proclaimed. "Devised solely for our welcome, no doubt."

"Wow. That's a shocker," Percy mused with a bored expression.

"Where are we?" Frodo asked.

"Where we are now is a side entrance to the Second Hall, almost directly below the gates out. But do not let me tell you about it; look for yourself and see the former glory of Moria!"

The Fellowship then stepped out into the cavern, and Percy was fairly certain that everyone drew their breath at once. Laid out before them was a vast hall of immeasurable length and height.

Wow, this dwarfs any of the other halls we've been in. Heh, no pun intended.

To Percy's right (which was apparently west, according to Gandalf), the cavern extended down into darkness. Down the center of the hall was a double row of pillars, tall and black, that reached up into shadow. They were carved as finely as everything else, and their sides were mirror-like and glossy. Very close to where Percy was standing a large fissure had opened up, cutting the hall in half. Flames curled around the lip of it, eventually pooling around the pillars. From the fissure pulsated a steady crimson glow; wisps of dark smoke wafted above it.

"If we had come down the main Road, we would have been trapped on the other side," said Gandalf, nodding in the direction of the fiery chasm. "Let us hope the fire now separates us from pursuit."

Doom, doom, rolled the drums once again. From the shadow at the western end of the hall, cries and horns were heard; the pillars trembled.

"You know, whenever you say stuff like that," Percy noted, "we seem to be found the next moment by orcs."

"Never mind that; we may still escape! Run!"

With that, the Fellowship turned left and ran away from the fire and the orcs. It hadn't looked that far to Percy originally, but it would still be many precious seconds before they reached whatever exit was as the eastern end of this hall.

As they ran, Percy heard shrill cries sound out, and he knew they had been spotted. The echo of many pounding feet reached his ears as well.

Suddenly Boromir laughed. Percy stopped to look at him and saw that Boromir was peering back. Percy braved a look back as well to find Boromir's source of amusement. What he saw made him laugh as well. All of the orcs were milling about on the opposite end of the flaming fissure, having no way to cross it. Many wildly shot arrows at the Company, but none were close to their mark.

"They did not expect this," Boromir remarked with a smile upon his face, "the fire has cut them off!"

"Come, follow quickly!" Gandalf said, noting that several members had stopped to taunt their pursuers. "We are not yet safe."

"How are they going to get to us?" Percy asked.

"Follow!" Gandalf insisted. "The Bridge is close ahead."

Percy followed until they came to a black chasm. He could see the road far on the other side, but the only way to get there was over a very narrow, arching bridge that spanned the chasm. Looking down, he could see nothing but shadow; even so, he was quite tempted to spit over the edge and observe, but he decided against it.

The orcs must have improved their aim, because arrows started to clatter in their midst. One stuck through Gandalf's hat, which Percy found amusing. Well, at least until one struck him in the back and bounced off his hidden chainmail shirt.

Gandalf stopped short of the bridge and turned around, waving the rest through. "Quickly! Over the bridge!"

"How come it's so narrow?" Pippin asked in astonishment as soon as he stepped on.

"Ancient dwarven defense system, but do not worry about that now; we must get over quickly." He turned to Gimli. "Lead the way. Merry and Pippin next. Once you get over the bridge, go straight on and up the stair beyond the door"

Gimli looked at him in confusion. "Aren't you coming?"

Gandalf looked grim. "We shall see, but now is not the time for talking. Hurry!"

Gimli led the way up the arching bridge, with Merry and Pippin close behind him in a single-file line. Behind them was Frodo and Sam; Legolas walked behind them, keeping watch behind and picking off the occasional orc with his bow.

Right when Percy was about to start over the bridge, he noticed that something was very different. The orcs had stopped their shrieking and were utterly silent. Arrows had stopped falling. The only sound was the drums. Doom, doom, they rolled. He listened as they quickened Doom, doom, doom, doom. Very slowly, he turned around, afraid at what he would find. The others did the same.

The orcs were still standing behind the fiery crevice, but as he watched, they split ranks and separated, forming a large walkway through the middle. Up the walkway came two hulking figures. These only turned out to be large trolls bearing great slabs of rock which they flung over the fiery crevice. The path was now open, yet no orc made any movement.

Percy looked puzzled. "What are they waiting fo—," he drifted off into astonishment. "No way..."

Between the split ranks of orcs, a figure was approaching. It was cloaked in a cloud of shadow and fear, but that was slowly fading. As it wore off, Percy saw a malicious demon approaching, an evil spirit filled with hate. The Being was close to twenty feet tall, and though it was covered in shadow, a fire radiated from within. In one hand as a huge cleaver, radiant from the flames it was made of. In the other hand was a fiery whip with many blazing throngs attached. When It nimbly glided over the fissure, the flames rushed up to greet It, and Its body was wreathed in swirling flames. From behind It sprouted two dragon wings, dark and clouded, that almost touched the opposite ends of the Hall.

Seeing this monster, Legolas wasted no time in nocking an arrow and launching it between the demon's eyes, which truly impressed Percy. Unfortunately, the arrow burst into flames and the crumbled remains bounced off Its bony crest, from which two huge horns sprung.

The Balrog truly regarded the Company for the first time. For several seconds, no one moved. Then, the Balrog raised his sword, and the vast companies of orcs swarmed over the stone gangways. As they started forward, the Balrog also stalked towards the Company, each one of its steps surpassing four of Percy's.

"Run!" Gandalf shouted. "Over the bridge!"

As the dark figure streaming with fire made its way towards them, everyone turned to race over the bridge. However, as soon as Boromir took one step on the bridge, he turned around, raised his horn to his mouth, and let loose a single note that bellowed like thousands of cries and echoed under the cavernous roof. For a moment, the orcs quailed in fear and the Figure itself halted, unsure. Soon enough, though, they resumed their pursuit.

"Fly! This is an enemy beyond any of you!" Gandalf shouted, but Aragorn, Boromir, and Percy did not heed it. Legolas and Gimli wished to do likewise, but they knew their duty was to guard the hobbits, and they led them over the bridge to the far gate.

The Balrog reached the bridge. Gandalf stood in the middle of the bridge, at the top of the arch. The three men stood behind him, swords glittering in the flame of the opposing foe. Gandalf leaned on his staff, but Glamdring glittered cold and white in his other hand.

The Creature stood still, facing him. Behind him, the swarms of orcs milled about under the shadow of of his vast, smoking wings. The throngs of his whip burned with an unearthly fire.

"You cannot pass," Gandalf said. The orcs stood still as a dead silence fell. "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun! Go back the Shadow from whence you came! You cannot pass."

The fire in the beast seemed to die, but the darkness grew, and as it stepped slowly onto the bridge, it seemed to grow in height until it seemed to Percy that it was five times the height of a man. Its wings spread black from wall to wall of the cavern.

Percy saw a vast shadow of black, and in the midst of it, a white star, bright as a nova but small compared to the whirlwind of darkness and despair that surrounded it. Suddenly there came a bright orange flame, the sword of the Balrog, but Glamdring glittered white in answer. When the swords met, there was a flash, and the Creature had to step back to keep his balance. Gandalf, however, was tossed backwards, which was highly unfortunate on such a narrow bridge. He landed on the edge, and Aragorn and Boromir raced to safely secure him and haul him up.

With Gandalf indisposed for several precious, Percy stepped up to the middle of the bridge as the Balrog strode back into place. It seemed to gaze at him with contempt and scorn, which filled Percy with a deep sense of hate down in his heart.

Percy just stood there, Riptide pointing down the abyss in his right hand, staring the Balrog down, never blinking. The Creature seemed slightly surprised at this, but it was hard to tell. The orcs behind It were growing increasingly restless, wondering why their God did smite down the child.

As the two stared at each other, Percy was aware of the others standing behind him, never moving. The Shadow shifted a bit, and Percy warned, "You take one move, and I will personally escort you to the Gates of Hell."

The Balrog's nostrils flared in anger and flames shot out and swarmed Its body, making it more intimidating than before, but Percy showed no signs of fear, only continuing to stare It down as Lupa had demonstrated long ago before New Rome.

With a roar, the Balrog raised its scourge high and whipped it towards Percy. He heard some shouts from behind him, but he ignored them and raised his left arm in defense. The fiery throngs glowed white as they wrapped themselves multiple times around Percy's left forearm, and he grabbed the ends in his hand. He did not flinch at the heat. He simply stared, making no movement.

I am a Son of Poseidon; flames do not hurt me.

At this, the Monster grew visibly shaken, and It took a step back in doubt, as did the orcs. It might have tried to pull back its scourge, but it was lodged tight in Percy's grip.

"Begone, Shadow of Angband! The Gates of Night shall soon welcome you with your Master if you continue!" Percy cried in words that were not his own. He noticed that a faint blue aura surrounded him, glowing brightest from his Ring.

The Balrog roared in rage and swung his mighty cleaver downwards, but Percy held aloft Riptide and deflected it in a bright flash of blue and white. The Balrog lost Its balance as his sword bounced back, and it took another step back, bringing It slightly off the bridge. Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of despair and fear filled the cavern, and Percy felt something in his soul similar to when he encountered Sauron in his dream. The Balrog grew taller and darker, and a black cloud wreathed It amid the flames in a rage that was not solely Its.

One more time, the Creature roared in anger, and a blast of intense heat spewed from Its gaping maw. As he faced the beast again, Percy's determination began to waver a moment, just enough for the Balrog to rip Its scourge out of Percy's hand. He stumbled backwards in alarm, and at that time the Balrog smote downwards with his flaming cleaver another time. Percy held up Riptide once again, and they met with a spark, but the two swords stayed locked. Somehow, and Percy had no idea how, he was holding up the Balrog's sword with strength that was not his.

The standstill lasted a moment, the flames of the Beast mixing with the blue aura surrounding Percy. Suddenly, there was a deafening Clang, and the Ring of Manwe on Percy's hand exploded in a nova of blue light, the twisted shards of the ring spiraling down into the void. Percy was thrown back past the others, but still on the bridge, luckily. Spots danced in his vision, and he had to fight very hard to stay conscious. In an instant, all the strength courage, and determination had left him leaving him weak and quite shaken.

Right away, Gandalf stepped in front of himdefensively; the Balrog advanced to meet him. A new energy seemed to possess Gandalf; he seemed full of energy and determined. The Balrog snorted at his approach, and he raised his sword mockingly. Gandalf stood his ground and smashed the butt of his staff into the stone. A white light flared up and enveloped him like a shield. "You cannot pass," he stated in a deadly cool voice.

The Balrog swung his cleaver at Gandalf, but when it met the white light, it shattered and sailed away in flaming, molten fragments. The wizard stepped back once and stood still. The Balrog stumbled back, but gathering Itself, It leapt upon the bridge towards Gandalf.

"You—Shall Not—Pass!" He shouted as he smote the ground with his staff. The staff was shattered asunder as a white light sprang up. The bridge cracked under the Creature's feet and fell away, sending It falling into the abyss. Its roar was heard growing fainter, and the light grew dim as it fell.

Percy was recovered enough to breathe a sigh of relief, but Fate was not with them that day. As the beast fell, it swung its whip, and the fiery throngs wrapped around Gandalf's ankles as he turned away. He was dragged to the brink, and, clawing to find a handhold, managed to grip long enough to cry out, "Fly, you fools!" And he was gone.

Percy responded quickly enough to throw himself off the bridge after him, but Boromir grabbed him while airborne and pulled him away. "Let me go!" he shouted while struggling to break free. "There's water down there! I can feel it! I can save him!"

The others stood rooted in their spots, staring at the broken bridge in horror.

Aragorn put his hand on Percy's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "What would Gandalf want you to do right now?" he asked, his face conveying all the kindness and pain in the world.

Percy slumped to the ground in defeat; he was right. "Fine."

Suddenly the bridge cracked and shuddered underneath the three of them and Boromir hefted him up just in time for them to leap off just as the bridge crumbled and fell away beneath them. Arrows fell around them from all sides as they stood, and orcs could be heard on their side of the chasm.

"Come! I will lead the way now!" Aragorn cried, and he bounded up the stairs beyond the gate. The rest stumbled wildly up the great stairs after him, and they found themselves in a large passage. Shafts of light pierced the darkness, and Percy could hear the hobbits sobbing at his side.

The passage opened up into a great hall, illuminated with white light from slits in the wall. The hall was guarded at the end by numerous orcs, but the Fellowship slew them easily, for none could withstand Aragorn in his rage. They sprinted through the oaken gates, with pursuit close behind them, and they found themselves underneath the blazing noon sun in Dimrill Dale, east of the Misty Mountains.

Percy looked around wildly. The sun shone upon his face, and a light breeze ruffled his hair, yet it all seemed so surreal, even though they had only been underground a couple of days. At first he had thought that they had made it, but now he wasn't so sure.

They were free, but Gandalf was gone.


Wooh. There it is. Maybe not quite as long as other chapters, but I wanted to get this out, and this was a good place to stop. Man, I was really tempted to save Gandalf, too, but that would have been too big of a change in my opinion, and I didn't really want deviate from the original so much (at this point in the story... just wait until later). I understand that many of you might be thinking that Percy has made little impact on the story, but I think saving Gandalf in Moria wouldn't have worked real well, plus this will help later on.

Next thing. Thanks to many, many reviews, I have made the decision that I will not be bringing anyone else into the story. Sorry to the many of you who wanted me to, but this story centers around Percy and his journey, and I think this is the best way. Plus, thanks to an anonymous guest review, I know how to handle later parts in this. Oh. One more thing. If you leave a review as a guest (which you totally should), can you leave a name so that I could credit you or thank you a little easier? That would be great.

Well, I think that's about it, so thanks for reading, and please leave a review!

~TheDragon12