Chap. 15

Gandalf walked about the tomb and found an old, half-burned book among the bones and broken shields. He pushed his hair out of his face and began reading in a quiet, sad tone.

"'We have barred the gates ... can hold them long if ... horrible ... suffer ... We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the Bridge and second hall. Frá and Lóni and Náli fell there. ... Went five days ago ... the pool is up to the wall at Westgate. The Watcher in the Water took Óin. We cannot get out. The end comes ... drums, drums in the deep ... They are coming.'"

Shaken, we were about to leave when we heard the booming of a drum deep below them, along with the noise of many running feet. Aragorn and Borimir rushed forward to bar the west door of the chamber just as a troop of Orcs arrived, along with a great cave-troll which forced its way through the door.

Frodo stabbed its foot with Sting and the monster withdrew. Not nearly as scary as it looked, believe me.

The Orcs broke through the door and we fought them off with anger and adrenaline. The rest retreated.

Gandalf saw a chance to escape, so he led the Company out through the unguarded east door but an Orc-chieftain caught up with us in an instant and stabbed Frodo in the side. The Company gasped in surprise as they saw the Hobbit was still alive. At a look from Gandalf, he revealed the shirt of Mithril and everyone—apart from Gandalf and I—gazed in awe at the kingly gift. But one Mithril shirt wouldn't save us all from what was coming.

Gandalf held the door shut with a closing spell allowing the rest of us to get out, but he felt a powerful counter-spell from the other side. The ensuing battle of spells collapsed the doorway, and then the entire room. The wearied wizard rejoined the Company and leaded us down toward the lower halls. Finally, we came to the Second Hall, just opposite the gate that leads out of Moria. We ran across the Bridge of Khazad-dûm, a slender arch of rock over a seemingly bottomless chasm.

Something was coming up behind us. What it was could not be seen: it was like a great shadow, in the middle of which a dark form, of man-shape maybe, yet greater; and a power and terror seemed to be in it and to go before it. It came to the edge of the fire and the light faded as if a cloud had bent over it. Then with a rush it leaped across the fissure. The flames roared up to greet it, and wreathed about it; and a black smoke swirled in the air. Its streaming mane kindled, and blazed behind it. In its right hand was a blade like a stabbing tongues of fire; in its left it held a whip of many thongs.

Down the Centre stalked a double line of towering pillars. They were carved like boles of mighty trees whose boughs upheld the roof with a branching tracery of stone. Their stems were smooth and black, but a red glow was darkly mirrored in their sides. Right across the floor, close to the feet of two huge pillars a great fissure had opened. Out of it a fierce red light came, and now and again, flames licked at the brink and curled about the bases of the columns. Wisps of dark smoke wavered in the hot air.

As we turned to look back, Legolas cried out in horror, saying that it was a Balrog that was after us and Gimli covered his eyes.

Out of a band of Orcs leapt a great shadowy form, wreathed in flame and yet surrounded by shadow and darkness.

The Balrog reached the bridge. Gandalf stood in the middle of the span, leaning on the staff in his left hand, but in his other hand Glamdring gleamed, cold and white. His enemy halted again, facing him, and the shadow about it reached out like two vast wings. It raised the whip, and the thongs whined and cracked. Fire came from its nostrils. But Gandalf stood firm.
"You cannot pass,'" he said. The Orcs stood still, and a dead silence fell. "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûdun. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass."
The Balrog made no answer. The fire in it seemed to die, but the darkness grew. It stepped forward slowly on the bridge, and suddenly it drew himself up to a great height, and its wings were spread from wall to wall; but still Gandalf could be seen, glimmering in the gloom; he seemed small, and altogether alone: grey and bent, like a wizened tree before the onset of a storm.

From out of the shadow a red sword leaped flaming.

Glamdring glittered white in answer.

There was a ringing clash and a stab of white fire...

Aragorn hurriedly led the Company out of the Great Gates of Moria. We stumbled a mile or so away from the mountain and then all collapsed in grief at what we had just seen.

It seemed that Gandalf had defeated the creature. He had turned around to join us and the Fellowship was so sure he'd done it; I could see it in their faces. When suddenly, out of the shadowy chasm, the whip shot out and wrapped around the Wizard's ankle, as though to say, 'I'm not going down without you, Fool.'

The next few seconds were horrible: Frodo was shouting for Gandalf who made a vain attempt to climb back up and when he couldn't, gazed at the Company with a look so sad, so hopeless and defeated, and in a tone that reflected his eyes said, "Fly, you fools."

And then he let go. Just like that. I could've warned him. I know that. But I didn't. Instead, I let what was to happen, happen. Who am I to change things because I don't want to see them?

Now I was left to sit with the Fellowship as they replayed what had just happened again and again in their minds. Sam held his head in his hand and cried. Pippin had collapsed almost instantly and Merry held him as they wept openly. Frodo wandered about, in shock I think, making no move to remove the tears from his cheeks.

I think that's part of what made all this so sad; not one of them even tried to hide their sorrow. Gandalf was just that loved. And I couldn't relieve them of their pain by telling them the thing that only I knew. So I sat with them and empathized—I cried too.

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how many of you LotR book readers realized I used quotes and descriptions right from the book?:)