Morning Star of Rivendell
Chapter 25
Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR FOTR.
Review Responses:
rubberduckybugati: Thanks, yeah I'm pretty excited to write those. Also I appreciate your understanding.
I luv Milarion 1201: Hahaha, glad to see you're so excited! Hmmm...honestly, I haven't thought that far ahead. I just barely have an idea of what's gonna happen in Lothlorien. I'm good now, thanks.
ro781727: Thanks, I've always been interested in the history of Middle Earth and what exactly changed when the Istari came into the picture. You'll see soon enough.
MsRose91: Your review is greatly appreciated and I'll do my best to update ASAP.
Dragongirl1546: Yes, apologies for the long wait AGAIN. So glad you weren't disappointed! (I really do try my best-part of why it takes so friggin' long)
Luckygirl1013: Thank you! Glad I updated, too. As for her grandparents...I don't think it'd be spoilers to say this, since it was previously mentioned, but she really loves and admires Galadriel. And Galadriel returns that amount of love and admiration as well as pride (Yáviën has boasted that she's her grandmother's favorite, even though all of them are loved by her). Celeborn and Yáviën will have some bonding time.
Guest: Ah yes, what better way to both torture your beloved readers who are now anxious for the next update and end a chapter so it isn't over 4,000 words? (Kidding about the torturing the readers part, not so much about the other one) Hahaha glad it satisfied you besides that. Yeah, I loved them too.
Just as a reminder... "this is normal dialogue", "this is Sindarin I don't know", 'these are thoughts', "this is Black Speech/creepy Ring mutterings"
Yáviën's POV
Even with the weapons lodged against the wooden doors to the crypt, the orcs managed to hack away at them enough to create holes where Legolas, Aragorn and I fired our arrows. They successfully hit their marks-I got an orc's eye much to my satisfaction, Legolas's arrow went right through the skull of another, and Aragorn's hit one in the neck.
We fired tirelessly and rapidly at the barred doors, but there were literally legions of orcs, and only so many arrows we had supplied. Eventually they broke down the door and it was as if someone opened the floodgates of chaos.
Their rancid odor filled the enclosed room of the tomb and their jumbled guttural cries were grating to my ears.
Endlessly we shot arrows at our enemies, but there were so many eventually they started to go past us, locking into combat with Gandalf, Boromir and Gimli.
I did sneak a glance at Boromir to see just how well he fought, and was content to see he was faring rather well.
Even the hobbits had taken up arms, moving, jabbing and blocking just how I taught them to. I never regretted training them, for it has kept them safe on their own, just like it is now.
When I grabbed for another arrow to shoot at a charging orc, I found my quiver empty. Quickly I swung my bow onto my shoulder and drew my twin blades, twirling them once before swinging them in an 'X' at the orc's neck, cleanly slicing off its head.
Black ichor spouted from the neck while I nimbly dodged a swipe from another orc, grabbing its hand with the crude knife to pop its arm out of place to drop the weapon. A stab to its heart - if it even had one - followed, causing more opaque fluid to spout from the wound and dribble onto my gloved hand.
Kicking the dead orc away, I spun to avoid the advancing orcs attempting to slay me, cutting and stabbing at them as I did so.
About five fell dead from my attacks, but I did not dare to stop. I leaned back to dodge another jab at my chest, stabbing an orc behind me and the one in front of me with my two daggers.
Adrenaline filled my veins, pumping energy into my being as I twisted to slash at three more orcs, throwing one of my daggers at one of the foul creatures that attempted to impale me from behind. It hit the center of its head, causing the orc to collapse. I leapt over the bodies around me to retrieve my dagger and behead another orc, its dark ichor spattering onto my leather jerkin and already dirtied tunic.
A loud growl rattled my eardrums, forcing me to turn to look at the entrance. The cave-troll had broken through the remainders of the doors. An arrow sank into its shoulder, courtesy of Legolas. But all it did was agitate it.
The cave-troll tried to crush Sam with its massive mace, only to miss as the hobbit darted forward and hide behind a pillar with the other halflings.
I cut down any orcs that got in my way, decapitating several and brutally stabbing or swiping at others. The blood that followed pooled on the stone floors, which I was only half-cautious to avoid. I was solely focused on the cave-troll hunting for my dear friends.
Gimli threw a hidden knife at the creature, impaling its chest only to enrage it further. I yanked my arrows out of dead bodies, re-stocking my quiver in preparation for the cave-troll. I did not even care that the orcs' blackened blood stained the arrowheads.
The dwarf was spared from the cave-troll's mace by two more of Legolas's well-aimed arrows, giving him time to back away and focus on cutting down the orcs that had been advancing on him.
For some reason, the countless orcs prevented me from approaching the troll. I saw Legolas easily dodge the chain the creature was attacking him with and shot my arrows at the irritating orcs that were slowing me down.
By the time I reached the giant monster and my friend, the brute had already stupidly gotten its chain wrapped around a pillar. Legolas stomped on it to tighten its bindings and use it to hop onto the cave-troll from the ledge he was on.
Not wanting to miss the opportunity, I hurriedly hopped onto the ledge Legolas was at, following him up the chain. Legolas got atop the creature and shot an arrow directly at its skull. It cried in pain, stumbling about with me still on its leathery haunches.
When the troll made its way over to Merry, Pippin and Frodo, with its mace reared back to smash them against the floor, I embedded my twin blades into its thick skull, pulling it back with the weight of my body.
"Yávi!" Frodo called, but I could not bother with him at the moment.
"Aragorn!" Sam cried, hoping he could come and help with the situation.
The cave-troll reached back for me with its giant hands, screeching in pain. I released the hold I had on my daggers and avoided getting grabbed, eventually having to leap off and get out of its radius.
Again, it focused on Frodo. I became overwhelmed by orcs, and this time without my daggers. Making due with an axe from a dwarf's corpse, I began hacking away at the waves of foul beings that stood between me and Frodo.
"FRODO!" I yelled, trying to get him to move.
Glancing around, I noticed that Gandalf had only been fighting with his wizard staff and Glamdring.
"Gandalf, for Valar's sake, use some spells! You ARE a wizard, are you not!?"
He shot me a small glare but indeed started using some spells - the first of which was an ice spell.
Then I remembered that I, too, could cast some spells that my father and grandmother taught me.
Watching Frodo, who had been stripped of his weapon - a nearby spear the creature had pulled out from where Aragorn had stabbed it - that was now in the hands of the cave-troll once more, I put some distance between myself and the orcs.
"Anyone who is not an orc, stay away from me!" I ordered, earning a few confused gazes in return.
Focusing on my hands stretched out in front of me, I chanted the spell I had in mind, a ball of flames forming as a result. Once I finished the chant, I flashed my eyes open and sent the fireball hurtling at the mass of orcs, seeing their flesh burn in its hungry flames.
I stumbled, feeling my energy drain immensely. Still, I pressed on toward Frodo, who was defenseless because Aragorn was knocked out against a broken slab of stone, and the cave-troll was closing in on him, albeit clumsily due to my daggers still embedded in its skull that was indeed killing it, but not fast enough.
Merry and Pippin chucked stones at its towering form, giving me a little more time to reach the dear hobbit. He tried to flee, only to get cornered by the cave-troll.
It felt as if time had slowed as I witnessed Frodo getting impaled in the chest with the spear, soon falling to the floor with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.
"NO!" I heard myself scream, feeling detached from everything as I raced to the cave-troll and joined Merry and Pippin on its broad shoulders again.
Out of pure fury, I grabbed the handles of my twin daggers and shoved them further into its cranium as hard as I could, hearing its loud groans of pain as I did so. I did not even process the fact that the monster had thrown Merry off.
With the Fellowship doubling its efforts and a final push with my daggers, as well as an arrow into its mouth from Legolas, the troll finally keeled over onto the floor. I gripped my blades tightly while Pippin flew off with nothing to hang on to.
Crudely and a bit savagely, I twisted my blades that were stuck in the tough skull of the cave-troll in an effort to pull them out. After a moment, I succeeded, though they were dripping with what little brain matter the troll had and black ichor.
But none of that mattered as I dragged myself over to Frodo, getting there before the battered Aragorn and turning him over, expecting the worst.
What I did not expect was for him to instantly draw breath and groan.
"Frodo!" I exclaimed, pulling his head onto my lap and hugging him close, near-tears at the fact that he was indeed alive.
I looked up at an approaching Sam and the rest of the Fellowship, soon taking in the state of the disturbed crypt.
Numberless orcs were strewn about - having been killed in various fashions - and whatever remaining ones lived had fled due to the renewed vigor the Fellowship obtained at the sight of Frodo. Black blood stained the ground, some puddles still fresh and recent.
"He lives," I breathed. "He lives."
I helped him sit up, seeing him grasping at the spot where the spear supposedly pierced him.
"I'm alright. I'm not hurt." Frodo told us reassuringly, though I was still checking his face, hands and neck.
"Are you certain? You could still have injuries you just have not felt yet." I insisted, continuing my inspection.
"You should be dead! That spear would have skewered a wild boar." Aragorn stated, bewildered yet glad Frodo had survived.
"I think there's more to this hobbit than meets the eye." Gandalf replied cryptically, his grey eyes sparkling with some kind of hidden knowledge.
To my surprise, Frodo parted his shirt to reveal the gleaming rings of the mithril vest he wore underneath.
"Mithril! You are full of surprises Master Baggins." Gimli remarked, his orange-red beard soaked with ichor, as were his pants and leather vest.
I smiled, hugging him close to me. "That crafty Bilbo - he knew just what to give you, didn't he?"
I felt Frodo smile back as he wrapped his arms around me. However, our tender moment was short-lived when the grotesque snarls of orcs sounded down the hall.
"To the hall of Khazad-Dûm!" Gandalf announced, leading the group out of the tomb room.
Quickly, I searched the slaughtered bodies for more arrows to fill my quiver with, finding nearly all of the ones I had originally brought with me. A few were broken and unusable, but as long as I had enough to last a final fight in these mines, I was satisfied.
Legolas grabbed my upper arm, leading me out of the room since I had fallen behind.
"We must hurry, Yáviën. You are already lacking strength because of the spell you cast - you cannot afford to waste any more time and risk getting caught by the orcs."
I sighed, feeling my previous energy from rage leaving me. "I know, and I know what I did was rash, but it still killed more orcs than just using a blade would. I sped up the battle, is all."
"At what cost?" Legolas snapped at me, and for a moment I saw the hardened warrior he had become all those years ago once again.
There was no time for me to apologize, for we had caught up with the Fellowship and fled for the bridge. Glancing back, waves of orcs had amassed to pursue us, causing a sense of dread to form in the pit of my stomach.
I had not realized before just how many orcs had infested these once glorious halls. There were enough to form a vast army with countless others joining from the floor and down the ceiling, crawling down like the spiders I could still so vividly recall from the sick forests of Mirkwood.
In a matter of seconds we were surrounded, huddling in a tight circle around the hobbits. I notched an arrow, prepared to fight to my last breath, when a fiery glow lit the end of the hall followed by a growl that thundered in everyone's ears.
The orcs stopped snarling, and for a moment all was still.
Then the revolting creatures surrounding us panicked, looking around in what seemed to be fear. Quickly they dispersed, leaving us wondering whether or not to be relieved.
I chose not to relax, not for a moment: whatever the orcs were terrified of, we should be as well, for orcs do not scare easily.
Warily we gazed in the direction of the glowing ember light as waves of unease stirred in my stomach.
"What is this new devilry?" Boromir questioned, possibly for all of us present.
A pregnant pause filled the air, as did tension. Everyone, from myself to even Gandalf, were unsettled. Another roar sounded, growing ever closer to our location.
"A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run! Quickly!" Gandalf declared, and off we ran.
I certainly did not anticipate for there to be such an old evil lurking in these mines, nor was I willing to face it. My heart was pounding in my ears as we fled down the extensive halls.
"Please, please oh Valar please...have us make it out of this alive." I silently prayed, fearing for my life for the first in a long time.
Aragorn
He and the others sprinted down the halls only to skid to a stop after entering a passageway and descending a flight of stairs. He, Gandalf and Yáviën had brought up the rear, being the last to see that it ended in a chasm with a seemingly endless drop.
"Gandalf." He murmured, for once unsure of what to do.
How was it that they went from battling the Watcher in the lake to a Balrog that was so old and powerful that even Gandalf advised a retreat? Never had the ranger suspected such dangerous foes would await them in these mines, for they were beyond his imagination.
"Lead them on Aragorn - you and Yáviën. The bridge is near." Gandalf replied, pointing to a bridge they could cross if they continued onward.
Yáviën frowned at him as the heir of Isildur resisted.
"Do as I say! Swords are no more use here." The wizard ordered, shoving the ranger ahead, followed by the stubborn she-elf.
"Gandalf, I'd rather take the rear and-"
"-Yáviën, my dear, now is not the time to argue!" Gandalf nearly snapped, forcing her to clamber after Aragorn down a flight of stairs.
Halfway down, a gap caused them to pause as Legolas decided to leap across first. He sent a short wave to Gandalf, his cerulean eyes oddly hardened as his voice grew stern. No longer was he the gentle and compassionate ellon that Aragorn came to know - he had become the battle-worn warrior that Aragorn initially met and befriended, the one who was focused entirely on the situation at hand.
Which, quite honestly, was rather reassuring considering their circumstances.
"Gandalf!" He called, his sharp eyes roving across the area for any potential threats.
The wizard glanced back at the hall, hearing another loud growl as rocks started crashing down around them.
The ranger wrapped his arm around Frodo protectively from the rocks and the possibility of falling considering that there were no railings or anything to grab on to. He had to admit, it was a rather deadly and inconvenient design flaw on the dwarves' part.
Gandalf leapt across the gap, safely landing beside Legolas who steadied him.
Seemingly out of nowhere, arrows began whistling past them where they stood, prompting Aragorn, Legolas and Yáviën to shoot back. They hit their marks, causing numerous orcs to drop dead where they stood.
"Merry! Pippin!" Boromir called out, grabbing the two hobbits and leaping across.
Despite his initial attitude, Aragorn had come to harbor some respect for the Steward's son. He cared for the hobbits and was as magnificent a warrior as himself or any other member of the Fellowship.
"Sam!" He yelled, nabbing the halfling and tossing him over for the various members of the Fellowship to catch him.
Aragorn reached down to pick up Gimli, only for the dwarf to hold up his hand.
"Nobody tosses a Dwarf."
Before he could do anything about it, Gimli leapt forth in an attempt to breach the gap, only to fall a few inches short. Legolas managed to pull him up before anything transpired. He might loathe the dwarf, but Aragorn knew Legolas would never leave him to die. He had more honor than that.
Yáviën, Frodo and himself were the last ones remaining on the other part of the bridge. The she-elf glanced between them, uncertain if she should proceed or stay behind to help Frodo and himself.
"Yáviën, go! We'll be right behind you!" He told her reassuringly, but that seemed to ignite her stubbornness again.
"No, I will stay until you and Frodo have cleared this section of the bridge! I can still make it - you two have a lesser chance should you waste time here any longer. And I would rather be damned for all eternity than let Frodo remain in such a deadly situation."
Before anyone could argue or snap at her to just listen to the ranger for once, she took hold of Frodo and practically threw him at the rest of the Fellowship.
"Seems it comes down to you and I, doesn't it, Elessar?" Yáviën murmured sardonically, ready to jump when a few of the stone steps crumbled into the chasm below.
Aragorn yanked her back just in time. "And yet again, I find myself keeping you from dying of brashness."
She sent him a grateful look - though not without a glare - while getting to her feet with a bit of a struggle, gazing at the widened gap. Aragorn heard her sigh in exasperation.
"I do realize that life is a challenge, but at times I think it is purposely targeting us."
If it weren't for the fact that immediately after her sarcastic comment, the Balrog made itself known down the hall behind them and stone structures around the mine started to collapse, he might have laughed.
A massive rock crashed through the stairs several feet behind the duo, isolating them from both the direction they came and from the Fellowship. The second gap caused the foundation to weaken, leaving them with a wobbling bit of staircase that was beginning a rather rapid descent.
"Yávi! Aragorn!" Frodo cried, fearful for two of his most dependable and beloved friends.
An idea popped into the ranger's mind, however, as he began to shift his weight so he was leaning forward. Yáviën noticed and quickly did the same, carefully balancing her weight so that their bit of staircase began to tilt over to the Fellowship.
"Steady! Hold on. Hang on!" Aragorn exclaimed while they continued to drop forward. "Lean forward! Steady!"
"Oh dear Eru, I know what I am doing and so do you - there is no reason to be panicking so much, Aragorn!" The brunette remarked just before the staircase slammed onto the steps that reunited them with their companions.
He decided not to comment, considering that he was more mature than that even though she was a couple thousand years older than him.
Yáviën ended up in the arms of Legolas while Boromir caught Isildur's heir. Had it not been for the fact that they were busy running from an ancient evil, someone - most likely either himself or Boromir - would have at least smirked at the two oblivious elves.
They all continued their hasty descent from the winding staircases, soon reaching the hall that led to the bridge the wizard had previously referred to.
"Over the bridge! Fly!" Gandalf yelled, waiting until everyone had passed him until turning to face the wall of fire and the approaching Balrog.
It was a massive beast - a demon indeed, with skin as dark as charcoal and as thick and tough as rocks, which was coated in flames. Its pupil-less yellow eyes gleamed against its opaque body, towering above the wizard and emanating a powerful intent to kill.
Aragorn had never once seen such a creature in his prolonged life, nor did he ever wish to again. He had heard on only a few occasions of the demons from the old ages, and those tales he believed to be nothing but ghost stories rather accurately depicted the monstrosity before Gandalf.
When it roared, its mouth full of pointed teeth akin to stalagmite and stalactite, sent out waves of searing hot air with a fiery light at the back of its throat.
Aragorn glanced back to see Gandalf had joined them in fleeing from the dreaded Balrog down the hall to the Bridge of Khazad-Dûm, which was a rather narrow bridge so the Fellowship was forced to race across in a single-file line.
Once Yáviën, who was second to last, crossed over, Gandalf halted halfway on the bridge. With a rage Aragorn had never witnessed before, the wizard spun around to stare down the Balrog that approached in a cowl of black smoke.
"You cannot pass!" He proclaimed, pointing the lit end of his staff at the foul being.
Frodo stopped in his tracks and whipped around, his innocent blue eyes widening at the spectacle.
"Gandalf!"
Yáviën tried to subtly edge closer to the bridge in case Gandalf needed someone to swoop in, only for Legolas to grab her arm. She sent him a small glare and shrugged him off, though she did not move any further.
"I am the servant of the secret fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you! Flame of Udûn!"
With this statement, Gandalf used his powers to engulf himself in a bright grey-ish white light.
Apparently angered by the wizard's words, the Balrog entered combat against him, only for his sword made of fire to shatter against a parried blow from Glamdring. Aragorn gazed at the two in concern and a bit of awe, though he was already wondering how he could come to Gandalf's aid should he require it.
"Go back to the shadow!" Gandalf shouted before his opponent brandished a flaming whip in defiance.
"YOU...SHALL NOT...PASS!"
The grey wizard raised both Glamdring and his staff, slamming them down onto the bridge with a burst of light. The Balrog almost comically paused, as if it was confused as to what to do until it decided to charge forward, only for the part of the bridge underneath it to crumble.
The demon roared in surprise, falling into the chasm below.
Due to his exertion of magic, Gandalf - now exhausted - leaned heavily on his staff to watch the Balrog fall, turning to join the others.
Much to everyone's horror, the flaming whip flicked up to coil around his ankle, dragging the aging wizard to the edge of the bridge. Gandalf clung to the edge as best he could, though his energy was fading fast.
Frodo attempted to rush over to him, only to get held back by Boromir.
"No! No!"
"GANDALF!" The halfling cried, nearly delirious.
Aragorn had never felt so frightened or worried in that moment, but even more so when he caught a glimpse of a fleeting head of dark brown hair.
'No...no, it cannot be...' He thought in absolute dread with ice filling his veins.
"Where is Yáviën?!" Aragorn shouted, his eyes flitting to the various members of the group.
When none could answer, he looked back to where Gandalf was barely hanging on to the edge of the bridge to see the very elleth racing toward him.
"Yáviën!"
A/N: Hopefully this chapter half-makes up for the months-long wait you all had to endure! Again, I must apologize - life threw me hardballs that I had to swing, and I've had writers block up until now and it's past 1 AM. SO SORRY! Will Yáviën succeed in saving Gandalf? How will that change things? ...don't ask me, I'm winging it. Thank you all for sticking with me and don't forget to review, favorite and follow!