Author Note: Inspired by "Steady is the Hand" by rhosinthorn. Thank you for everyone who has read and reviewed my story.
The Shards of Sorrow
Review: The Council of Elrond takes place and news from all over Middle Earth regarding the movement of the Enemy is brought forward. Elrond reveals the truth of the Rings of Power and that they believe that the Ring Frodo bears is the One Ring of Sauron.
Branwen's temper is frayed and tested by Boromir, son of the Steward of Gondor, and she proves her point and worth of being at the council. She determines that the Ring is, in fact, a Horcrux and shares that the Ring cannot be used a weapon as it houses a portion of Sauron's Soul.
Nearly two months pass with Aragorn, Elrohir, Ellandan, and riders of Imladris and the Rangers of the North out scouting for the whereabouts of the Nine. Eight of their horses are found dead and it is assumed that they had fled back to Mordor in the Unseen without their steeds to guide them.
Branwen is invited to join the Fellowship, despite Elrond's reluctance, and she expresses concerns of the makeup of the company but is talked down by Gandalf, Aragorn, and Elrond.
Arwen learns of the mission and confronts her father. Elrond refuses to even entertain the notion and, angry as she is, Arwen respects her father's decision on the condition that she is trained in sword and magic. If he will not do so, she plans to receive training from Branwen when her sister returns. Her father relents and plans to begin her training soon.
Aragorn and Arwen finally pledge their lives and love to one another and the question of Arwen's comment regarding Aragorn's affection for Branwen is expanded on finally. Arwen states that she cannot hold such a thing against Branwen, does not fault Aragorn, and says that she does not think to share him would be so terrible.
Chapter Seventeen – Southward, Snow, and Secrecy
The Third Age – December 25th, 3018
While Christmas was obviously not a holiday in Middle Earth, Branwen had been aware this had been her first one with a family that she could call her own. She had not said anything about it, but, as they were departing that evening, Arwen had been adamant about spending time with her and Aragorn together. Elrond had even spent some time with them in the Hall of Fire and during mealtimes. It had almost felt like the real thing.
It had been…nice.
Even as the East Wind had blown through, bringing cold air with grey clouds and ripping away the last shriveled leaves from the deciduous trees while it shook the pines in the peaks above, Branwen felt a certain warmth inside her heart.
The last of the preparations were being made as the day wore away into night and the Company took the time to get a bit of sleep. As per the counsel of her father, they would be traveling by night, at least for a time, until they had put enough distance between Rivendell and themselves.
Branwen wished more and more that she had the gift for speaking and understanding birds and beasts, but that was not something that could be taught, only learned. She knew that she would make that a priority at some point. She was loathed to be unaware if she was being spied upon by every creature that prowled and flew and would like the knowledge of determining that.
Eventually, it was time to go as the shadows of evening hung deeper over the valley.
They had all packed light, relatively speaking. No one wore armor, save Gimli, who boasted a shirt of chainmail, and Boromir, who carried a circular shield. Weaponry was light as well—Aragorn only carried Andúril, Boromir a longsword, Gandalf his staff and a bastard Elven sword called Glamdring, Gimli a broad axe on his belt, Legolas his bow and a long knife, and the hobbits each had a short sword that appeared full sized on their small forms. It amused Branwen to realize that she was the most heavily armed with Cýron on her belt, a knife on her waist, and her bow and quiver stowed in their pouch on her new bag.
Elrond had gifted the new bag to her, made much finer and sturdier in thick leather by Elvish hands. It had been made in the same design as her old bag, that was showing its wear, and she had taken the time to sew the anchoring words and then weave in her preferred enchantments.
It was in consideration of the deep and expansive cavity of her lightened bag that she had talked Sam out of trying to bring along the pony—Bill, he had called it. Branwen had pursed her lips at the name. The pony was far too kind and sweet to be given the name of his former abusive master, but it mattered little to her in the long run. Bill the pony would be left in Rivendell, fat and youthful now under the care of the Elves.
Sam had fought about that, "But, Miss Branwen, he will pine for me! He nearly talks! If we do not bring him along, he will only follow!"
Branwen had regarded him with amusement, "That is what paddocks and stables are for, dear Sam. In any case, we will be following dark roads and, though we are to move in secrecy, we are just as likely to be waylaid by Orcs, Wolves, and all other foul things. Do you wish to subject Bill to that? Also, we may come to cliffs or places that a pony may not be able to pass through. Would you abandon him to the Wilderness then?"
Sam looked sad and a bit sullen but nodded, "Very, Miss Branwen… You speak truth."
And so, nine of the Ten Walkers were all gathered together in the Hall of Fire, awaiting only Gandalf. All were clad in thick warm clothing for the winter—fur-lined coats, cloaks, and boots to allow them to travel warmly through the cold. Only the Hobbits wore no shoes as they had claimed, 'Hobbits have no need for those!'
Branwen could already hear them complaining when they had to walk through snow and hoped their feet were resistant to frostbite.
Her old, worn, and travel-stained tunics, breeches, and jerkins had all been discarded by Elendria when Branwen had not been paying attention and the tailors of the House of Elrond had replaced them. Elendria did not necessarily approve of her lady wearing male clothing (as she called it) but, if Branwen insisted, she would wear pieces suitable to the household of Elrond.
All were done in tones of growing things, earth, and shadow to avoid staining so quickly. They were light but warm and expertly woven. Branwen knew that these clothes would hold onto words of warmth much tighter than her old ones. For that reason, she had not even been upset.
As they waited for Gandalf and Elrond, Branwen sat next to Arwen with Aragorn on her other side. Her sister, as Branwen expected, had been near furious when she had told her of the mission that Branwen would be going along with.
Elrond and Gandalf had apparently planning this for months and Arwen was more upset that nothing had been said, robbing her of the opportunity to prepare as she would have if she had known, than anything else. Arwen seemed deeply saddened at this farewell, but Branwen, in the safety of her thoughts, would admit she would not have wanted her sister along in any case.
If it had been up to her, could she have stood to touch the vile Ring, Branwen would bear it with Gandalf and Glorfindel to Mordor as quick as could be to see it destroyed; leaving Arwen and Aragorn in Imladris so that they would both remain safe. Unfortunately, the thought of touching the Ring left her nearly ill and Glorfindel was staying Rivendell as it was expected the Enemy would being making moves soon and his strength would be needed.
Finally, Gandalf and Elrond entered the hall. The Company, Arwen, and Bilbo turned to Elrond as the Elf-Lord said in a low voice, "This is my last word. The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid—neither to cast away the Ring nor to deliver it to any servant of the Enemy nor to let any handle it, save members of the Company and the Council, and only then in gravest need.
The others go with him as free companions, to help him on his way. You may tarry, come back, or turn aside into other paths, as chance allows. The further you go, the less easy it will be to withdraw; yet no oath or bond is laid on you to go further than you will. For you do not yet know the strength of your hearts and you cannot foresee what each may meet upon the path."
Branwen's eyes looked over the Company and hoped that the Hobbits, except Frodo, would separate or return quickly, though she doubted it. She also wished that Boromir might decide to split from them and return to Gondor. She feared that his intention with coming was not to see the Ring destroyed but to convince them to turn aside from the Ring's destruction and instead bring it to Minas Tirith to be used as a weapon, despite what she had warned.
Gimli's rough voice cut through her thoughts, "Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens."
Elrond replied, "Maybe, but let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall."
The Dwarf appeared adamant, "Yet sworn word may strengthen the quaking heart."
Her father was unmoved, "Or break it. Look not too far head! Farewell and may the blessing of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your face!"
Arwen hugged Aragorn with whispered words and then Branwen. Her sister said, "Know that my heart goes with you and do not despair no matter the Darkness you face. Watch over Aragorn and yourself and, regardless of your curse, do not throw yourself any deeper into mortal peril! I love you, Anaróriel. You must come back to me."
Branwen felt her throat closing up with emotion as she breathed in the scent of lilies and morning dew once more. She said, "I will come back to you and I will do all in my power to keep Aragorn safe. I love you, Arwen."
They parted and Branwen saw Elrond had come to her and Aragorn as well. He spoke quietly, a hand on his foster-son's shoulder, before they embraced shortly. Elrond then turned to her and smiled sadly. He took her hands in his larger ones and said, "May the grace of the Valar follow you, my daughter, and the stars guide you to safe harbor even as you walk dark paths. You are as your name, though you journey through darkness now, your toils herald the light to come… Understand that, should this journey be too harrowing and you must turn aside, there is no shame and we will welcome you home with open arms and glad hearts."
Branwen knew that, even as he said it, her adoptive father hoped that she might stay and not go. Even as busy as he had been with preparations, Elrond, Arwen, and Branwen had spent a good deal of time together over the last few weeks and she had come to deeply respect and care for Elrond as her father and he had come to dote on her as much as he had Arwen.
The wonders of the Hearts of Elves had yet to cease amazing her.
Branwen stepped into his arms, him wrapping them around her, and she said, "Fear not, father. I have walked dark paths before and, though the night is dark and full of terrors, it holds nothing that I fear. I shall walk the path as long as I am able…but I will return home. I have a family that I love and wish to protect and that is the hope that I hold fast too."
Elrond sighed, "Then let your sword strike surely and your flame burn bright. I love you, Anaróriel."
Branwen squeeze him, "And I love you. Watch over our home and over my sister."
"Always."
They separated and Branwen traded a last squeeze of a hand with Arwen before she stepped forward into the Company, her pale staff in her hand as she stepped next to Aragorn and Gandalf. They began to finally walk out of the House of Elrond, her home, and past the faces of her household standing in shadow. Soft farewells followed them and Branwen felt a number were directed towards her. Elendria's somber face stood out and Branwen spared her a bright smile.
Eventually, they crossed the bridge out and began their ascent upwards to leave the vale of Imladris behind. Branwen cast one last look back at her father's house before stepping deeper into the darkening night.
҉
They walked along mountain paths South and back towards the Ford of Bruinen, but they did not cross. Instead they continued down and back up narrow trails into the undulations of the foothills. Gandalf and Aragorn were both very familiar with the rough and barren country that they were entering into and led the way with Boromir behind, followed by the Hobbits, Gimli, herself, and Legolas at the back in a single file.
They spoke rarely as they walked in darkness, only the light of the stars and the thin moon to guide them. Her Sight allowed her to see in the nighttime well and Legolas seemed at ease too.
The Fellowship slept during the grey and sunless days, for which Branwen was thankful as it made it easier to sleep, in hollows or under the cover of thickets to avoid unfriendly eyes and with no fire to cook by for the same reason. They walked only in the night as the wind came fierce and icy from the East off the frozen fingers of the mountains. The clothing they had been gifted were welcome and Branwen was happy to find her assumptions correct—her whispered words of warmth into her clothing held strong and sure.
Aragorn, Gandalf, and Boromir kept a steady pace with certainty of their actions. Gimli seemed to step livelier as they neared the South-Southwest slant of the mountain chain. The Hobbits seemed weary already and, more than once, Branwen wished she might have argued harder against their inclusion—if at least Merry and Pippin. Legolas, behind her, was as tireless as Glorfindel had been and in good spirits. Branwen counted herself more among Aragorn and Gandalf's company as she marched onward.
The hills became taller and the valleys more jagged as the power of the water in the Misty Mountains carved through the land with vigorous strength. Harsh cliffs were above as marshes spread out below as they continued.
Finally, as if to raise the already flagging spirits of the Hobbits, the sun came out for the first time in the two weeks since they had started their journey. Branwen's eyes saw the Morningstar to herald the dawn and the sun erupted upon the cold day as the endless grey clouds were vanquished.
They reached a low ridge just shortly after dawn, upon which they made their camp. Branwen felt a soft affection as she realized the trees that crowned it were all holly as she remembered her old wand. In the light of the dawning sun, she saw the jagged stone and icy peak of Caradhras stabbing upward into the pale blue sky like a bone of the earth. Where bare stone was touched by the sun, it was dyed red like blood.
As she laid out her bedroll to sleep, she heard Gandalf talking with Frodo as they looked Southward towards the mountain peaks. The Wizard commented that they had traveled about one-hundred and thirty-five miles. Through rough and winding terrain, that was not terrible.
She began to drift to sleep listening as Gimli joined their conversation, speaking of Dwarven heritage and Moria deep beneath Caradhras, and Gandalf described the first half of their journey—over the Redhorn Pass to the Dimrill Dale, the Mirrormere, down alongside the River Silverlode, through Lórien, and then the Anduin.
Branwen woke again after only a brief nap after the Hobbits had stoked a fire for their morning supper. Gandalf and Aragorn had deemed it safe enough under the cover of the thick holly trees. Gandalf felt that a day of rest would do the Company good and so they had no plans to depart until the evening of the following day.
Branwen felt she could go on easily but appreciated the day of rest nonetheless as did the majority of the Company. Aragorn seemed restless though and stepped away to keep a vigil as the sun rose in the sky, looking out Southward and Westward.
Finally, he came back with a troubled look on his face as the Hobbits were laughing and the others were talking while Branwen laid on her bedroll dozing. Merry, seeing the look, jested, "What is the matter, Strider? What are you looking for? Do you miss the East Wind?"
Branwen sat up as Aragorn answered, humorless, "No, but I miss something. I have been in this country of Hollin in many seasons. No folk dwell here now, but many other creatures live here at all times, especially birds. Yet now, all things but your voices are silent. I can feel it. There is no sound for miles about us and your voices seem to make the ground echo. I do not understand it."
Branwen felt her brows scrunch together. How had she not noticed that?
She stood up to walk out onto the edge of the ridge to look out with her Sight as she heard Gandalf begin to question Aragorn. Branwen Saw nothing in the Unseen…but that seemed even more cause for concern.
There were no lifeforces of beasts or birds within her Sight. It appeared almost like when all the animals had fled before the Shadow of the Nine, but there was no Shadow. Now that she was aware of it, Branwen felt a…tenseness within the Wyld about her. It felt like…fear of predators.
Something was stalking about the land…
Branwen returned to hear Gandalf finish, "…We must stop talking aloud, rest quietly, and set the watch."
The Wizard's eyes then went to her in silent question, the others' attention followed, and she reported, "Aragorn speaks truth. Within my Sight, I can see no creatures at all, but I do not See a Shadow within the Unseen as I had with the Nine. Now that I am aware of it, I can sense something within the natural magic of the land, the Wyld, I call it. Something has driven off the creatures…I can feel only a fear of predators."
Gandalf nodded, "Very well… As I said, we must be silent and set a watch."
҉
Branwen was woken up in the afternoon by the sound of numerous flapping wings oncoming…and a sense of intent through the Wyld. Without a thought, she cast her Veil wide over the ridge to make it uninteresting, unnoticeable, and unremarkable.
Through tree boughs, she Saw the lifeforces of a vast flock of black crows coming towards them. After a pause, there was a single distant caw and they lost interest of their hidden camp and wheeled about Westward before they had come over the ridge.
Branwen breathed a sigh of relief before she noticed the others had remained asleep. Aragorn came running into the camp just a moment after, Sam following, and shook Gandalf, "Regiments of black crows are flying over all the land between the Mountains and the Greyflood and they nearly passed over us. They are not natives here; they are ravens out of Fangorn and Dunland. I do not know what they are about. Possibly there is some trouble away South from which they are fleeing, but I think they are spying out the land. I have also glimpsed many hawks flying high up in the sky. I think we ought to move again this evening. Hollin is no longer wholesome for us—it is being watched."
Gandalf took this all in from his bedroll as he sat up and said, "And in that case so is the Redhorn Gate and how we can get over that without being seen, I cannot imagine. But we will think of that when we must. As for moving as soon as it is dark, I am afraid you are right."
Aragorn remarked, "Luckily our fire made little smoke and had burned low before the ravens came. They turned away before flying over us. It must be put out and not lit again."
Gandalf nodded, the others were now rousing due to the conversation, and Branwen sat up and said, "I heard the ravens and felt their intent in the Wyld. They are spying—for who I cannot know. I threw my Veil over the ridge to make it uninteresting and that was when they turned away… I believe that they have driven away the native birds and small creatures. That leads me to believe that some other beasts have frightened away the larger ones, such as deer… I'm afraid there may be too many eyes searching for us, Gandalf, if the Enemy has such great power over birds and beast. That is not a talent I have learned either."
Gandalf looked grim and replied, "You have our thanks for diverting attention from us… I fear you may be right."
҉
The Hobbits were disheartened to hear that there would be no more fires and the marches under the cover of darkness would continue that night with no day of rest as had been expected. Boromir and Gimli took it with grim acceptance while Legolas seemed rather ambivalent about it.
Branwen imagined it must be easier to accept such inconveniences with unfailing Elven vigor.
Branwen kept her Veil over the ridge for a while as Aragorn went through and thoroughly hid their presence. Though it was mentally straining, she maintained the Veil for the majority of the day before she laid down to rest. The Company had seemed grateful to her for the measure of security while it had lasted, but she needed sleep before the night.
҉
Boromir glanced at the sleeping Elf-maiden before turning back to Aragorn, "What is this Veil that Branwen had mentioned and that she used to shield us from unfriendly eyes?"
Aragorn paused in his inspection of his hunting knife and met his gaze before saying, "Branwen has many gifts besides spells. You have heard and felt the Power of her Voice and know that she can Know things with the Sight of her eyes."
Boromir's thoughts turned to when she had struck him silent during the council so many weeks ago and her strange Elvish spells that could roll like thunder. He remembered how she spoke of being able to See the influence of the Ring and the strength of his heart. The way her eyes would glow with their own light from time to time and felt like they pierced his soul.
Boromir nodded before Aragorn said, "She also has a magic she calls her Veil that can change her appearance, things around her, and can be used to conceal. I've known Branwen since I was a child, but not always under her true face that she reveals now. For many decades, she has disguised herself as different but plain women and none were the wiser. She had even lived in Minas Tirith for a time many decades ago before she came to Rivendell for the first time."
Boromir felt his mouth open in surprise, "Can she truly hide herself so completely?"
Aragorn nodded.
Legolas, off to the side inspecting his bow, laughed quietly, "If the few stories I have heard are true, and from what I saw with my own eyes during the Council of Elrond, Lady Anaróriel's beauty is only matched by her many and powerful magics."
Boromir glanced back again at the Elf-maiden. It seemed fitting that a tall greybeard like Gandalf should be wise and learned in magics, but it seemed odd when looking upon her face. He said as much to the Woodland Elf, "I suppose it is strange for me to see a youthful and fair face and think of powerful magics, as you've said."
Legolas smiled with some humor, "Remember well this moment for when we reach Lothlórien, friend."
Boromir's eyebrows drew together as Aragorn chuckled, "Yes, her adoptive grandmother, the Lady of Lórien is just as, if not more, formidable, you shall see."
Boromir could not help but think that Elves were even more different from Men than he had originally supposed. What a queer folk…
҉
Branwen felt much better waking up just before sunset, the dying light glimmering crimson again off of Caradhras. The crows had disappeared Southward and they set off as the Evenstar glimmered overhead, soon joined by other stars. Branwen felt that it was a good sign as they turned more East now to Caradhras.
The moon was full that night and it seemed welcomed by those less able to see in the darkness and uncomfortable in its embrace—namely the Hobbits and Boromir.
Aragorn guided them down a broad path, that appeared to once be a road, and guided them straight toward the mountain pass they meant to try. Branwen was not optimistic about this plan, attempting to cross over the Misty Mountains with winter upon them, but trusted in Gandalf and Aragorn to lead them straight.
They continued through the night without incident, the moon near the Western horizon while the very first touches of dawn colored the East, when she Saw something moving towards them quickly. She hissed and threw her Veil over them but feared it was already too late.
It passed like a black shadow right over them so high and so fast that had Branwen not Seen it sooner, she would have missed it entirely.
Frodo whispered urgently from ahead, "Did you see something pass over too, Branwen?"
Gandalf commented, "I felt it, whatever it was… What did you See?"
Branwen frowned, "It appeared like a rather large bat with sharp talons… I nearly missed it. I Veiled us but I fear it had already noticed us."
That seemed to put the Company in a dimmer mood but there were no further concerns that happened that night.
Dawn was bright again the next morning, but the wind had the bite of winter again. It seemed their brief respite was over as they continued on the next two nights onwards and upward into the hills and towards the looming mountains.
The third morning, the bare stone of Caradhras was again dyed red against the stark white of its heavy snowcap. The sun was weak and there were heavy and dark clouds to the North. Branwen leaned on her staff as she overheard Gandalf say to Aragorn, "Winter deepens behind us. The heights away North are whiter than they were, snow is lying far down their shoulders. Tonight, we shall be on our way high up towards the Redhorn Gate. We may well be seen by watchers on that narrow path and waylaid by some evil; but the weather may prove a more deadly enemy than any. What do you think of your course now, Aragorn?"
Branwen hid a frown. It sounded as if they were not in agreement on their current bearing. Aragorn replied quietly, "I think no good of our course from beginning to end, as you well know, Gandalf. And perils known and unknown will grow as we go on. But we must go on and it is no good delaying our passage over the mountains.
Further South, there are no passes until one comes to the Gap of Rohan. I do not trust that way since your news of Saruman. Who knows which side now the marshals of the Horse-lords serve?"
Branwen felt grim as she considered the options before them. Never mind the Rohirrim, Saruman was amassing an army and, should Saruman have the same power over the waters of the Misty Mountain that come down through the Isen as Elrond did over the Bruinen, they had more perilous concerns.
If they turned back North, every pass would be blocked with snow by the time they returned and they would have to wait for spring. Go even further North and around through the Northern Waste would be suicide in the middle of winter, not to mention the perils of Mount Gram, the remains of Angmar, and even the Withered Heath if they should go all the way around.
That detour would take months.
At this time of the year, with the Gap of Rohan out of the question as it was held by Saruman, only the pass over Caradhras would be an option, though she was not confident of it either. And soon, even that would likely be inaccessible by snow.
Gandalf replied to Aragorn's last question, "Who knows indeed of the loyalty of the marshals of Rohan! But there is another way, and not by the pass of Caradhras—the dark and secret way that we have spoken of."
Branwen felt a shiver of dark premonition as Gandalf spoke. That did not sound wholesome at all.
Aragorn urged him in pleading whispers, "But let us not speak of it again! Not yet. Say nothing to the others, I beg you, not until it is plain that there is no other way."
Gandalf rebutted, "We must decide before we go further."
"Then let us weigh the matter in our minds, while the others rest and sleep."
Branwen let on no indication that she overheard, although she saw Frodo looking deeply troubled nearby. It appeared he had eavesdropped as well.
For now, she would let it be. She was here as support, but she lacked the knowledge of their Company's leaders about the many paths that crossed the Misty Mountains.
҉
After the group had roused that afternoon, Aragorn and Gandalf drew away from the rest of them and continued their debate out of earshot. Soon, they returned and it seemed Aragorn had triumphed for now, as Gandalf said, "From signs that we have seen lately, I fear the Redhorn Gate may be watched and I also have doubts of the weather that is coming up behind. Snow may come.
We must go with all the speed we can. Even so, it will take us more than two marches before we reach the top of the pass. Dark will come early this evening. We must leave as soon as you all can get ready."
Boromir then spoke up, his voice measured as he shared guidance, "I will add a word of advice, if I may. I was born under the shadow of the White Mountains and know of journeys in the high places. We shall meet bitter cold, if not worse, before we come down on the other side. It will not help us to keep so secret that we are frozen to death. When we leave here, where there are still a few trees and bushes, each of us should carry a bundle of wood, as large as you can bear."
Gandalf nodded solemnly, "Very well, but we must not use the wood—not unless it is a choice between fire and death."
Branwen said, "My pack can hold a good deal more and it shall not burden me…" She nodded then to Boromir, acknowledging his correct thinking, and he seemed a bit surprised. Her eyes then flicked to the Hobbits' bare feet.
If she had to cut off any toes, she would never let them live it down.
҉
They were off again at a fast clip but were soon slowed by the steep incline as they began to mount the sharp foothills to access the mountain proper. Oddly, Branwen felt, there appeared to be a great deal of rockslide activity in the area as many stones and boulders were scattered about.
She had heard of the temperament of Caradhras and, as they neared, she began to see that there was a certain…agitation in the Wyld as a biting wind began to stir. She was not sure that boded well for them as the clouds had overtaken them and now darkened towards true black.
Just after midnight, they began their ascent up the mountain itself, their path set by sheer cliffs and steep drop-offs. Branwen felt a feather-light touch on her head and looked up to see the clouds had opened up—thousands of large snowflakes had begun to descend as the opening act of the oncoming storm.
A blizzard had descended upon them and Branwen could barely make out the shapes of the others through the near whiteout and only their lifeforces within her Sight allowed her to See all of them. Around them, the Wyld continued to swirl with greater and greater agitation.
After a while, the snow was deep enough that it had passed her ankles and Gandalf halted them and said loud enough to hear over the storm, "This is what I feared! What do you say now, Aragorn?"
Aragorn replied, "That I feared it too, but less than other things! I knew the risk of snow, though it seldom falls heavily so far South, save high up in the mountains! But we are not high yet! We are still far down, where the paths are usually open all winter!"
Boromir said loudly, seeking thoughts, "I wonder if this is a contrivance of the Enemy! They say in my land that he can govern the storms in the Mountains of Shadow that stands upon the borders of Mordor! He has strange powers and many allies!"
Gimli spoke, "His arm has grown long indeed if he can draw snow down from the North to trouble us here nine-hundred miles away!"
Branwen raised her voice, "This is not the Enemy! The Wyld here about the mountain is agitated, but there is no Shadow in the Unseen! This is not magic."
There was no response to her declaration.
They waited a short while to recover their stamina and the wind began to die down and the snow lightened as well. Branwen did not trust it though as the Wyld did not calm. Nonetheless, they trudged upward as the storm had let up, but her suspicions were proven correct as barely after an eighth of mile passed, the storm returned even more furious than before.
Branwen felt like her face was frozen and she paused, Legolas stopping behind her, before she commanded with a voice that could not be heard over the wind, "Heat envelope us!"
She had avoided any spells for heat as she knew it would be taxing across all ten of them, but this was getting ridiculous. Gandalf looked back at her immediately, but did not say anything, before he trudged on and everyone seemed a bit less tense.
Legolas said, "Much appreciated, Lady Branwen! I imagine it must be tiring in this weather, though?"
Branwen nodded, "Yes, but the Hobbits look like they might freeze solid as we walk. I had not been enthusiastic when I heard all four were coming."
Legolas did not have a response and they kept up the incline.
It was shortly after, there was a sound in the howling wind that sounded like great laughter and screams of anger. Branwen Saw that the Wyld was nearly enraged and she realized that it was indeed the mountain that was their enemy. Stones and even a few boulders began to come down from the upper slopes over their heads and around them.
They stopped immediately against a Southward facing cliff, the top just barely sloping outward over to protect them from any more debris from above. Boromir declared, "We cannot go further tonight! Let those call it the wind who will—there are fell voices on the air! And these stone are aimed at us!"
Branwen spoke loudly, "It's the mountain! They Wyld here is enraged! I've never Seen anything like it, though I have never come this way over the Misty Mountains!"
Gimli snarled, "Caradhras was called the Cruel and had an ill name long years ago, when rumor of Sauron had not been heard in these lands!"
Gandalf spoke heavily, "It matters little who is the enemy, if we cannot beat away his attack!"
Pippin, shivering and huddled with the other blue-lipped Hobbits, cried, "But what can we do!?"
Gandalf answered, "Either we stop were we are or go back! It is no good going on! Only a little higher, if I remember rightly, this path leaves the cliff and runs into a wide shallow trough at the bottom of a long hard slope! We will have no shelter there from snow, stone, or anything else!"
Aragorn added, "And it is no good going back while the storm holds! We have passed no place on the way up that offered more shelter than this cliff wall we are under now!"
Branwen found herself with her back up against the cliff face between Aragorn and Gandalf. The rest of the Company was doing the same, huddled together against the stone wall to keep out of the North wind as best as they could and out of the way of the occasionally falling stone.
Before long, the snow was piling up over a foot and half deep while the Wyld continued to rage alongside the storm. Branwen said to Gandalf and Aragorn, "I know not of this other way you two were arguing of, but I am not confident in my abilities to fight an angry mountain! Especially if we cannot use fire! I've laid words of heat on everyone, but I cannot do so forever and it's draining me steadily! It is also much less effective under these conditions!"
Gandalf replied, "Your spells are quite inventive! My own talents do not allow me such freedom! But she is correct, Aragorn! How will we cross if this continues?"
Aragorn's face was conflicted, "I know! I had hoped, but there seems little choice now. Very well, Gandalf! We will take your path!"
Their short conversation was then interrupted as Boromir yelled, "This will be the death of the halflings, Gandalf!"
Branwen looked and saw Boromir was hauling Frodo to his feet, the hobbit appearing to have collapsed into snow that was nearly up to his waist by this point. Boromir continued, "It is useless to sit here until the snow goes over our heads! We must do something to save ourselves!"
Gandalf pulled out a leather flask, "Give them this! Just a mouthful each—for all of us. It is very precious. It is miruvor, the cordial of Imladris. Elrond gave it to me at our parting. Pass it around!"
The Hobbits received a mouthful first before it circled back to Branwen. She recognized it as the same liqueur that Glorfindel had carried as they fled to Imladris. Immediately, she felt much warmer and a great deal stronger. Her strength had returned nearly in full and she was not feeling as weary despite maintaining the words of warmth over everyone for so long.
Boromir asked over the howling wind, "What do you say to fire? The choice seems near now between fire and death, Gandalf! Doubtless we shall be hidden from all unfriendly eyes when the snow has covered us, but that will not help us!"
Gandalf sighed heavily before he answered, "You may make a fire, if you can! If there are any watchers that can endure this storm, then they can see us, fire or no."
As far as she was concerned, that was all the permission Branwen needed. She stepped forward, into the deepest part of the shallow shelter provided by the cliff face, and struck her staff into the snow, "Wind!"
The building snowdrift was blow off over the edge of the trail into a great cloud of snow, revealing the frozen soil beneath. She reached into her pack and withdrew a bundle of wood to throw into a pile near the cliff face and called, "Fire!"
Immediately, flames licked up the wood and she fueled them with magic until they were self-sustaining. Quickly, everyone moved forward as Branwen moved outward in a semicircle around the group. Three quick scrapings of Sindarin were scratched into the hardened dirt around the semicircle. She then incanted, "Outer Fence of Heat!"
The fire seemed to burn brighter and hotter as the air within the barrier up against the cliff face became nearly bearable. All of them seemed to melt into welcome warmth and she was greeted with some words of thanks. Gandalf commented though, "Well, if there are any to see, then we are revealed to them."
Branwen replied, "You're welcome to stand outside the protection of my barrier if you would like. There's no point in secrecy if we must chop off halfling feet since Hobbits are too stubborn to wear boots."
Gandalf sighed, "I find myself agreeing… No. Thank you for this. Your magic will make it easier to wait out this storm."
҉
The wood was consumed quickly by the fire and Branwen was never more thankful for her enchanted bag. They would have had a good deal less fuel without it.
Aragorn said to them, "Dawn is not far off."
Gimli muttered, "If any dawn can pierce these clouds."
Boromir turned around to look into the blackness of the night, "The snow is growing less and the wind is quieter."
Branwen Saw that the Wyld seemed to have lost some of its vigor and replied, "It appears the mountain may be giving us some respite for now as the Wyld appears calmer. I would not count on it lasting though."
A little longer passed before the clouds began to lighten and it appeared that the sun was rising hidden behind their greyness. It revealed a world covered in snow and heavy clouds clinging to the concealed peak above. Outside of her barrier, the snow had piled up again after she had cast it away the first time and was nearly up to her shoulder.
Gimli said, his eyes on the clouds above, "Caradhras has not forgiven us. He has more snow yet to fling at us if we go on. The sooner we go back down, the better."
They readied to go back down and stared at the snowdrift. Branwen stepped forward, "Let me work and stand back. I'd hate to send one of you off the side of the mountain."
With words of wind, she blew the powdery snow away in great white clouds and they began their descent. At one point, Legolas requested, "If you would, Lady Branwen, allow me a moment so that I might scout ahead for our party!"
After she had stopped with flinging the powder off the side of the cliffs, Legolas leapt up onto the snow drifts to run ahead, barely leaving footsteps, let alone sinking, as he ran upon the snow itself like it was firm sand. She wondered if she would ever be able to do as such.
Looking down, her feet were still sunk in snow. Branwen frowned thoughtfully. While the rest huddled up against the cliff face again waiting for Legolas' return, she subtly removed one foot from the snow before bringing it down onto an untouched patch.
Her foot still sank…but not even as much as the Hobbits. She hummed in thought. She had not even noticed until she had bothered to look.
He returned a little while after, "I have brought back some good news for you, non-Elven folk! There is the greatest snowdrift just beyond the turn, but it is little wider than a wall and the snow grows suddenly less on the other side. Further down, it shall only cover Hobbit toes!"
Gimli growled, "Then this storm was the ill will of Caradhras! He does not love Elves and Dwarves and that drift was laid to cut off our escape."
Branwen smirked, "Caradhras will find that a witch is not so easily ensnared, and I shan't leave my companions behind! With wind, I shall have a path carved shortly."
Though it was a bit tiring, she did as promised, until they came around the turn and Branwen saw the great drift with her own eyes. It was practically sheer and crested nearly twice the height of Aragorn. She harrumphed with annoyance and felt the Wyld of the Caradhras seemed satisfied with his work.
Instead, she called a word for snow and ice and a tunnel went right through the middle the great drift as the walls were compacted until it was sturdy enough to support itself and the weight of the drift.
After all ten had walked through and they found the snow on the other side much shallower, Branwen flinched as their was a sudden flash in the Wyld. The snow tunnel behind them collapsed as the drift was assaulted from above with a tumble of stones and even more snow.
Gimli shouted back at the mountain, "Enough, enough! We are departing as quick as we may!"
As they walked down, Branwen commented to Aragorn and Gandalf, "You know, I never thought this particular combination of words would come from my mouth—but this mountain is an ass."
They chuckled at her words even as the clouds that had hung heavy over the Caradhras broke and the sun began to shine through. The Wyld about them was calming as well as the morning wore on. It felt almost like salt in the wound as it looked like it was going to be a beautiful winter day.
It was as they were descending the last leg that Branwen Saw the crows from yesterday. She cast her Veil with a grunt over them even as Aragorn pointed and said, "The birds again!"
Gandalf replied, "It cannot be helped now. Whether they are good or evil or have nothing to do with us at all, we must go down at once. Not even on the knees of Caradhras will we wait for another nightfall!"
A cold wind came down from Caradhras as if to usher them away faster. Branwen felt that if she had been alone or even just with one or two others, she might have conquered the mountain but with ten, it was too much.
The mountain had defeated them.
҉
It was evening by the time they stopped to rest, now back into the foothills and off the mountain. Branwen ate her food in tired silence along with the others. Only Legolas appeared still able to go on as even Aragorn looked worn.
Gandalf then drew their attention, "We cannot, of course, go on again tonight. The attack on the Redhorn Gate has tired us out and we must rest here a while."
Frodo asked, "And then where are we to go?"
Branwen cut in, "Yes, Gandalf, what is this other way that we have before us? The Gap of Rohan is closed to us with Saruman and his growing army of Orcs and Wolves that you reported and, even if that was not a concern, I am not interested in testing to see if he controls the waters of the Isen as Elrond can control the Bruinen.
The North shall be encased in snow and ice by the time we go back to any of those passes, if they are not already blocked.
If we return to Rivendell, then the Enemy shall be given the opportunity to muster his forces and lay siege. We would be hemmed in and lose the opening to destroy the Ring. Imladris, as wonderful as it is, is a place of peace and learning—it is not a stronghold.
So, what is this secret way that you know of that Aragorn is so against? I apologize for my brusqueness, but I fear Caradhras has worn me down. Please, let us speak openly of our options so that we may decide."
Gimli nodded, "Indeed! Let us have it, Gandalf! We are not children and we are here to see this deed done!"
Branwen had come to find herself liking Gimli. He was not so boastful as other Dwarves she had encountered, and he spoke plainly, which she had always preferred.
Gandalf frowned thoughtfully, "I thought of it from the beginning, when I first considered this journey, that we should try this way. But it is not a pleasant way. Aragorn was against it until the pass over the mountains had at least been tried."
Merry said, "If it is a worse road than the Redhorn Gate, then it must be evil indeed. But you had better tell us about it and let us know the worst at once."
Gandalf nodded, "The road that I speak of leads to the Mines of Moria."
Gimli suddenly seemed excited while Branwen suddenly understood Aragorn's apprehension. She remembered clearly that Glóin had spoken of a nameless evil awakened because the Dwarves had delved too deep. It appeared uneasiness gripped most of the Company at the name of Moria.
Aragorn spoke, darkness coloring his voice, "The road may lead to Moria but how can we hope that it will lead through Moria?"
Boromir shook his head, "It is a name of ill omen. Nor do I see the need to go there. If we cannot cross the mountains, let us journey Southwards. Even if the Gap of Rohan is closed to us, we might pass by and cross the Isen into Langstrand and Lebennin to come to Gondor from the regions near the sea."
Branwen responded, "That still means we must cross the Isen and if Saruman controls it as Elrond controls the Bruinen, then we will not be able to cross. Imagine the fury of Caradhras but concentrated into water. That is the strength of the rivers that come from the Misty Mountains. That does even mention the long journey Southward on foot.
It will take weeks, if not months, to march down that way and, if I need to remind you, there are predators that have driven out the animals of this region and I doubt that they are only crows if the Enemy and Saruman can command birds and beasts. What stops these birds and beasts from following as we journey South, harassing us, and even outing us to deadlier servants?"
Boromir frowned before Gandalf nodded, "Branwen speaks truly, Boromir. Since our open attempt on the mountain pass, our plight has become more desperate, I fear. I see little hope if we do not vanish from sight for a while and cover our trail.
Therefore, I advise that we should go neither over or around the mountains, but under them. That is a road at any rate that the Enemy will least expect us to take."
Boromir argued, "We do know what he expects. He may watch all roads, likely and unlikely. In that case, to enter Moria would be to walk into a trap, hardly better than knocking at the gates of the Dark Tower itself. The name of Moria is black."
Gandalf looked ready to begin a lecture so Branwen asked pointedly, "Gandalf, are you confident that you can bring us through Moria despite whatever nameless evil was awoken by the Dwarves? If you say so, I will follow. And I know that Frodo and Aragorn place their trust in you for a reason as well."
Gandalf smiled at her with a bit of satisfaction, "I can deliver you through Moria."
"Then I will follow."
Gimli spoke eagerly, "As will I!"
Aragorn spoke with a heaviness in his words, "And I. You followed my lead almost to disaster in snow and have said no word of blame. Though I have no wish to enter Moria a second time, I will follow your lead now—if this last warning does not move you. It is not of the Ring nor the rest of our Company that I am thinking of now, but of you, Gandalf. If you pass the door of Moria, beware!"
Branwen felt her curiosity and apprehension increase with that eerie warning.
Boromir declared, "I will not! Not unless the vote of the whole company is against me. What do Legolas and the little folk say? The Ring-bearer's voice surely should be heard?"
Legolas seemed a bit conflicted as his eyes went from Gandalf and then to Branwen before he said, "I do not wish to go to Moria…though I do not know where we could go then except back to Rivendell."
Sam, Merry, and Pippin turned to Frodo and Frodo seemed as conflicted as Legolas had. Finally, Frodo spoke, "I do not wish to go, but neither do I wish to refuse the advice of Gandalf. I beg that there should be no vote until we have slept on it. Gandalf will get votes easier in the light of the morning than in this cold gloom. How the wind howls!"
Silence fell on the Company as they listened to the wind and Branwen hissed with anger just as Aragorn leapt to his feet, "It is howling with Wolf voices! Wargs have come West of the Mountains!"
Branwen said, "As I said then—predators have driven away the animals."
Gandalf asked, "Need we wait until morning then? The hunt is up! Even if we live to see the dawn, who now will wish to journey South by night with Wargs on their trail?"
Boromir asked grimly, "How far is Moria?"
Gandalf answered, "There is a door Southwest of Caradhras, some fifteen miles as the crow flies…and maybe twenty as the wolf runs."
Boromir nodded, "Then let us start as soon as it is light tomorrow, if we can. The Wolf one hears is worse than the Orc one fears."
Aragorn loosened his sword in his sheathe and responded, "True! But where the Warg howls, there the Orc prowls."
Branwen clapped her hands on the shoulders of the frightened and whispering Pippin and Sam, "Fear not, lads! Wargs hold no fear for a witch!"
The Hobbits seemed a little reassured.
҉
Branwen finished the last words of the wards she had written into the dirt around the top of the small hill that they were sheltered upon. The crown of the hill was covered in old trees and a circle of defensible boulders. In the center, the rest had stoked a large fire as there was no point in attempting to hide under darkness and silence with a hunting pack of Wargs on their trail.
She whispered the words of the wards strongly and smiled as they took hold. The primary was her standard one of protection against malice that should keep the Wargs outside, if only for a few moments, depending on how many.
It was the second set of warding words that made her so gleeful. If this did not deal with a pack of overgrown flea-bitten Wolves, she did not know what would.
Reentering the ring of boulders, Branwen saw Legolas and Aragorn were up and wary while the rest were dozing fitfully. As she sat, Aragorn asked, "You have finished your wards then?"
She nodded and gave him a smile, "Oh, yes… As we are found, I see no reason to skulk about. These spells shall be rather…illuminating."
Branwen gifted Aragorn with a savage grin and he returned it with a fond smile. In the firelight, Branwen could admit to herself that he was quite handsome.
She turned her gaze and thoughts away.
҉
A few hours had passed, and Gandalf had given up on sleep and joined them on watch. Aragorn sat tensely. He did not care for this waiting but knew it would foolish to journey out to the creatures in the darkness. The howls had been growing steadily closer and it seemed likely they should expect them momentarily. He had already drawn his sword.
The others had roused just a little while ago as well, likely the enclosing howls having woken them.
While they all waited anxious and coiled for the impending attack, Aragorn noticed that Branwen sat rather relaxed, as if she had not a care in the world. The lids of her eyes sat heavily over shimmering emerald irises with long thick dark lashes as she stared at the fire.
Finally, shining eyes began to appear in the darkness outside the protective perimeter of boulders. Some began advancing and circling closer towards the gaps in between and they all drew weapons and stood.
Again, Aragorn noticed that Branwen did not appear worried but seemed…eager.
Then, a large shape came closer and a particularly massive Warg stepped into the light with drool dripping from long fangs. It raised it muzzle and let loose an eager howl, as if to sound the charge.
Gandalf stepped forward, his staff raised and mouth opened, but was cut short when Branwen's Voice washed over them, thrumming in the air and causing the ground to quiver.
"Heed my warning, servants of the Shadow. Flee while you still may and I shall spare your lives. If you step forward to attack, you must come all at once if you hope to strike me down."
Aragorn looked behind and saw Branwen standing with her back to the fire, her front thrown into shadow, but her eyes burning like stars in their sockets as she stared down the Warg. The Warg that had stepped forward growled loudly and a cruel smirk spread across Branwen's face, "COME THEN! ALL AT ONCE!"
Aragorn cursed as howls pierced the night from all around and it seemed nearly a dozen rushed forward at once to come through the gaps between and over the boulders with snarls. Legolas loosed only one arrow before the Wargs struck the invisible barrier and were stopped cold.
The barrier was now visible but appeared weakened. Its appearance had stopped the Company in its tracks—especially as Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, and Boromir had not yet seen this magic visible before.
Branwen screamed, her Voice rolled through the air and sent cracks racing out in a circle around her in the earth, "BREAK!"
The ward flickered and then it there was a flash of light, sudden heat, and a sound like a thunderclap.
The Wargs were gone.
Branwen stepped out confidently past the boulders before Aragorn's thoughts caught up with him and he followed her out, his gleaming sword held aloft.
The area outside the boulders was a mess of Warg corpses, that had been broken open with entrails ripped out and limbs torn off with singed pelts, and felled and scorched trees. The others came out to join them and Aragorn heard Boromir whisper, "By the Valar…"
The Hobbits looked a bit green even as Gandalf nodded his head appreciatively, "Once again, your particular magic is quite useful. What was it that you did?"
Branwen smiled happily, "Well, it takes some set up so it's not something that I can do easily off hand, but, by setting up a second ward written out as 'Counterattack of fire' and then breaking the first ward of protection and overpowering the second ward, instead of a counterattack of fire, I achieve a nice little explosion outward. I started working on that after the Witch-King broke my wards so easily. If there is a next time, he shall be in for a nasty surprise!"
Aragorn could only shake his head in amazement as he watched this small woman, surrounded by shattered Warg corpses, seeming so pleased with herself. He thought it might have repulsed him but somehow it only made her more beautiful.
He heard Pippin whisper to Sam, "Remind me the next time I am about to annoy Lady Branwen, not to."
Sam nodded, "I can't believe there was a time that I talked back to her so. I'm lucky I did not end up like these wolves!"
Branwen could be terrifying…but brilliant even in her carnage.
Branwen reset only her wards for protection but there were no more concerns with Wargs that night. More might follow in the coming day or two, as one pack could not clear an entire region by itself, but they slept well the rest of that night at least.
҉
The Third Age – January 13th, 3019
By Branwen's reckoning, it was January the thirteenth—nearly three weeks since they had departed from Imladris. Somehow, despite how far they had come, Branwen felt like they had made so little progress as the Misty Mountains continued to foil them. Her victory over the Warg pack from last night had been, to her, a rather much appreciated vent for her frustration.
That morning, at Gandalf's urging, they ate quickly and left.
It was going to be a beautiful day and the Company was in higher spirits even as they pushed forward. Gandalf and Aragorn were not so happy, disliking the bright sun that made it easier for them to be spotted, but Branwen thought it seemed rather pointless now.
The Enemy or Saruman or both knew that they were in this region by their spies already, most likely. Secrecy was all well and good if their enemies were unaware of where they were but became detrimental when they were discovered. It was why she had been against the Hobbits.
Light of foot they were, but she did not trust them in combat and there would a good deal of it, she felt, before this labor was done.
Aragorn was not familiar with this country, having only been here once or twice before, while Gandalf had only been to Moria from the West once long ago. It slowed their progress a bit, but they kept onward.
As they walked, Boromir commented, "Branwen, if you are able to do such magic, why can we not attempt the Southern route? Surely you can keep Wolves and the like from us?"
Branwen was unsure if he was challenging her as his tone was rather neutral but answered, "Because Wolves are the least of the servants of the Enemy. The ones to fear the most are the Nine and, if you had missed what I said last night, one of their number destroyed my barrier in an instant. I am not confident that I could have banished them without taking advantage of the Floodwater of the Bruinen that Master Elrond and Gandalf had summoned.
And that leads me to remind you of what I said about Saruman controlling the Isen. I do not know if I can impress upon you the power of the magic that comes from harnessing and directing the natural forces like that. If Saruman wishes to bar us or sweep us away with the Isen, if he can control it, there would be little I could do. What say you, Gandalf?"
Gandalf replied over his shoulder without looking, Gimli eagerly at his side as they walked closer to Moria, "I do not know the extent of the authority Saruman commands over the Isen but, if it should be like Master Elrond over the Bruinen…then I fear that I would be as helpless as you.
The most powerful magics are those that work with nature and source power from it rather than against it. It is why your mastery of fire magic is so impressive! You create and control it without fuel. Even I need something to burn, which is why I had chosen that hilltop last night so that the trees could be my fuel, if it were needed."
҉
In the midday sun, they were climbing over and through am area full of red and barren rock. It seemed this place too was deserted by animals and there was no water to be found. The sudden sound of a distant wolf howl echoed off the stone and set the Company on edge again. It sounded like their trail had been picked up.
In response to the howl, Boromir said grimly, "I do not know which I hope—that Gandalf will find what he seeks or that coming to the cliff, we shall find the gates lost forever. All choices seem ill and now, with wolf howls at our backs again, I feel being caught between their fangs and the cliff wall most likely."
There was no answer as Gimli, who had gone ahead a bit, beckoned them onward with a cry. Branwen arrived with the rest to see Gimli on a small hill and pointing to the right. Below them was a deep and narrow channel, dried and cracked, with only the smallest little bit of water in the center trickling on its way. Next to it was a wide path that appeared once to be a paved road.
Gandalf cried with delight, "Ah! Here it is at last! This is where the stream ran—Sirannon, the Gate Stream, they used to call it. But what has happened to the water, I cannot guess. It used to be swift and noisy. Come! We must hurry on. We are late."
҉
Branwen found the path much easier than crossing through country. She was not nearly as tired as she felt she should be. The Hobbits looked much worse for wear, but their strides were barely half of the rest of the group, excluding Gimli. Gimli appeared far too eager to be tired though.
The Hobbits welcomed an afternoon rest with a small and quick meal, but they began their march again quickly after.
They were approaching the mountains ahead and Branwen frowned at them as surely as the mountains leered back. Gandalf led them into a deep cleft that stayed well away from the crests and ridges, winding and turning this way and that way.
Finally, they came around a sharp corner and were greeted with a cliff face, thirty feet high. From a deep trough that appeared to have once been a waterfall, was the source of the small trickle of water that ran in the dried-up Gate Stream.
Gandalf remarked, "Indeed things have changed! But there is no mistaking the place. There is all that remains of the Stair Falls. If I remember right, there was a flight of steps cut in the rock at their side, but the main road wound away left and climbed with several loops up to the level ground at the top. There used to be a shallow valley beyond the falls right up to the Walls of Moria and the Sirannon flowed through it with the road beside it. Let us go and see what things are like now!"
The stairs were right were Gandalf said they would be and Branwen mounted them with only Legolas behind her. Branwen stopped cold when she Saw the dark water of the still lake that now filled the valley that Gandalf had spoken. Somehow, the stream had been dammed up and something…dark lingered within the water.
The sun setting in the West and the impending darkness of night did not lift her spirits either.
Behind the black lake rose vast and tall sheer cliffs with no way past. Gandalf pointed at them, "There are the Walls of Moria and there the Gate stood once upon a time—the Elven Door at the road from Hollin by which we have come. But this way is blocked. None of the Company, I guess, will wish to swim this gloomy water at the end of the day. It has an unwholesome look."
Branwen nodded fiercely, "Yes! Do not disturb the water needlessly! There is something…vile about it and we should not test them if it can be avoided."
There was a pause before Gimli said, "We must find a way around the Northern edge. The first thing for the Company to do is to climb up by the main path and see where that will lead up. We should be happy that we did not have the pony with us, for surely it would not be able to come further."
҉
The last light of the sun was fading and the stars were coming out as the group climbed the slopes and reached the side of the lake. Branwen was glad to see that they appeared to either heeding her warning or simply unwilling to touch the water.
The lake appeared about a quarter mile or more in width where they stood, but its Southern edge stretched away from them unseen in the darkness. The Northern edge they were aiming for was only about mile removed from them thankfully. As for the depth of the lake, Branwen could not see it with her eyes or Sight.
There was a Shadow in the Unseen that polluted the waters in the lake, but it was not the Shadow of Sauron…but something ancient and foul. Branwen did not wish to worry the Hobbits or anyone unneeded so did not announce her findings.
As Gandalf led them around towards the Northern edge to get where he had indicated the Gates should be, Branwen said quietly, "There is something in the water… I cannot See it, for a Shadow clouds the water and my Sight."
Gandalf nodded solemnly, "I fear that something may have been driven out from under the roots of the mountain by Durin's Bane."
"And what is Durin's Bane exactly? You still have not told me what this nameless evil is."
Gandalf shook his head, "And I will not under darkness when we are so close to another evil."
Unfortunately, they had to cross a green and rather disgusting creek at the Northernmost corner, the source of the lake, before they could reach the area that Gandalf led them to. It was shallow, thankfully, but slick with algae.
After the last Hobbit had crossed, Branwen's attention was drawn to the lake by the soft sound of a swish and plop followed by ripples in the surface. In her Sight, the still Shadow stirred sluggishly before it became quiet once again. She frowned but did not say anything.
As long as the Shadow remained still and they entered Moria quickly, it would not be a concern.
They continued on for another mile back around South before they came to a pair of tall and proud holly trees at the cliff face. It appeared from the rotting stumps going out deeper into the fetid water, that the now underwater road had been lined with these trees, before the valley had been dammed and whatever dreadful thing in the water had taken up residence.
Gandalf said happily, "Well, here we are at last! Here the Elven-way from Hollin ended. Holly was the token of the people of that land and they planted it here to mark the end of their domain; for the West door was made chiefly for their use in their traffic with the Lords of Moria. Those were happier days, when there was still a close friendship at times between folk of difference race, even between Dwarves and Elves."
Gimli immediately said, "It was not the fault of the Dwarves that the friendship waned."
Legolas was just as quick, "I have not heard that it was the fault of the Elves."
Gandalf pronounced, "I have heard both and I will not give judgement now. But I beg you two, Legolas and Gimli, as friends, I need you both. And Branwen as well! The doors are shut and hidden and the sooner we find them the better. Night is at hand!"
The Wizard then turned to the rest of them, "While I am searching, will you each make ready to enter the Mines? You may wish to lighten your loads and set aside the clothing for bitter weather. You will not need it inside, nor, I hope, when we come through and journey on down into the South."
Branwen disregarded that instruction, rather fond of her fur-lined cloak and coat. She had swapped them for a lighter cloak and pair of boots already that we not fur-lined, not having needed them since they had descended back down from Caradhras, but you could never know for sure. Her enchanted bag was indeed one of her favorite possessions and she often wondered how others went without.
Branwen stepped forward to stand next to Gandalf as he was examining the cliff face. He was muttering under his breath as Gimli and Legolas were also examining their own small sections. Branwen decided to See what there was to See and opened her Sight fully and gazed at the wall.
She told Gandalf, "I can See a glowing door in silver here in the cliff face. The Gates are here…but I can only just barely See them. I do not think they care to be noticed when they are hidden. The characters and designs are blurred and inscrutable, so I cannot say more, but I believe we are where we are supposed to be."
Gandalf looked at her impressed, "Dwarf-doors are not made to be seen when shut. They are invisible and not even their makers cannot find them or open them if the secret is forgotten. Well done!"
He stepped forward as the others watched eagerly and passed his hands across the stone face where she had indicated before stepping back. Gandalf then said, "Look! Can you See anything now?"
The moon had come out and was shining on the cliff face but nothing yet appeared to her eyes. With her Sight, the image was suddenly clearer and she said, "Yes, I can see an archway now with trees, stars, an anvil and hammer, and…Elvish characters that I am not familiar with."
After a moment, the image then became clear to even mundane eyes as it was traced in the cliff face in threads of silver in the moonlight.
Gimli crowed, "There are the emblems of Durin!"
And Legolas added, "And there is Tree of the High Elves!"
Gandalf finished, "And the Star of the House of Fëanor. They are wrought in ithildin that mirrors only starlight and moonlight and sleeps until it is touched by one who speaks words now long forgotten in Middle Earth. It is long since I heard them and I thought deeply before I could recall them to my mind."
Frodo looked in awe, "What does the writing say? I thought I was familiar with Elf-letters but, as Branwen said, I cannot read these either."
Gandalf answered, "The words are in the Elven Tongue of the West of Middle Earth in the Elder Days. But they do not say anything of importance to us. They say only—'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.' And underneath small and faint is written—'I, Narvi, made them. Celebrimbor of Hollin drew these signs.'"
Merry asked, "What does it mean by 'Speak, friend, and enter'?"
Gimli answered confidently, "That is plain enough. If you are a friend, speak the password, and the doors will open, and you can enter."
Gandalf nodded, "Yes, these doors are probably governed by words. Some dwarf-gates will open only at special times or for particular persons. And some have locks and keys that are still needed when all necessary times and words are known. These doors have no key. In the days of Durin, they were no secret. They usually stood open and door guards sat here. But if they were shut, any who knew the opening word could speak it and pass in. At least, it is recorded, is it not, Gimli?"
Gimli agreed, "It is! But what the word was is not remembered. Narvi and his craft and all his kindred have vanished from the earth."
Boromir asked with some surprise, "But you know the word, do you not, Gandalf?"
The Wizard answered, "No."
Branwen felt rather unconcerned. Obviously, there must be some way to discern what the word was, otherwise the Wizard would not have brought them here. The others, excluding Aragorn, appeared rather put out and flabbergasted at Gandalf's admission.
Branwen stepped a little away from them as Boromir began questioning Gandalf with upset vigor before the Wizard's temper began to show a bit. Her attention was brought back for a moment when Pippin's more shrill voice asked, "What are you going to do then?"
Branwen snorted with amusement as Gandalf threatened, "Knock on the doors with your head, Peregrin Took! But if that does not shatter them and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will seek the opening words."
Gandalf turned back to the doors and declared, "I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves or Men or Orcs that were ever used for such a purpose. I can still remember ten score of them without searching in my mind. But only a few trials, I think, will be needed. And I shall not call on Gimli for words of the secret Dwarf-Tongue that they teach to none. The opening words were Elvish, like the writing of the arch—that seems certain."
Gandalf then approached and placed the head of his staff against the central star and spoke with authority, "Elvish gate open for us now! Doorway of the Dwarf-folk listen to the word of my tongue!"
Branwen watched as the silver lines faded, leaving only grey stone, though it was still bright in her Sight. Apparently, Gandalf felt the password was in Sindarin despite the writing of the door being in another dialect.
The Wizard tried many phrases and words but none seemed to cause a reaction.
Branwen kept an ear out for wolf howls, though she had not heard any since they had come to the lake. This was not ideal. Wargs she could deal with. Whatever was in this water, she would rather leave undisturbed and that would be difficult it the Wargs tracked them here before Gandalf got the doors open.
Finally, Gandalf seemed to have reached the end of his patience and threw his staff to the ground in irritation.
In the same moment, Branwen's ears pricked towards the sound of wolf howls in the distance but sounding closer. Boromir, looking frustrated and angry, said, "So it appears that we may yet come up against Warg fangs and a hard place… How I hate this foul pool!"
Before she could stop him, Boromir hefted a large stone and threw it far into the center of the black water. Branwen hissed with fury, the Shadow in the lake moving again, "I thought I said not to disturb the water! There is something evil in this lake! Disturb it again and I shall throw you in and whatever fell thing dwells within can have you!"
Boromir sneered, "For a noble lady of the Elves, you certainly do not speak like such! Do not threaten if you have no will to follow through!"
Branwen laughed humorlessly and she stepped forward before Aragorn grabbed her shoulders from behind, "Branwen! This is not the time! Control yourself!"
Gandalf also spoke, "That is enough from the both of you! I cannot think with you bickering!"
Branwen threw off Aragorn's hands and told him, "Estel, I know that you believe this man has good qualities, but so far, all I have seen is a spoiled princeling! I am sick and tired of him disregarding me, all the while he stares! I am not some ornament that he can look at and talk to as he pleases! I speak when I have due cause and I care not for the flapping of gums, which he is so fond of! When I say not to disturb the water and there is something vile about it, I mean it! They are not just empty words!"
Boromir scowled, "If you are insulting me, say them in a tongue that I might defend myself in."
She nearly whirled around but Aragorn held her fast, his large hands wrapping easily around her slim shoulders. He shot Boromir a look over her before his grey gaze returned to her face. Aragorn slowly released her and sighed before he held up his hands to calm her, "I understand. I will speak with him."
Branwen felt her irritation flagging in the face of Aragorn's empathetic and calming face. She had noticed that he seemed to have an effect on her to soothe her temper far too easily. Almost as nearly as well as Arwen. Finally, she sighed, "Yes, please talk to your friend."
There was a flash of silver that caused them to look over. Door seams were suddenly clear and then one ran down the middle and opened outward slowly until they rested up against the cliff face—the Gates of Moria were open once more.
Gandalf sprung to his feet and looked at her, "What did you just say?"
Branwen, bewildered, said, "I told Aragorn to please talk to his friend."
Gandalf suddenly laughed, "Friend! Friend, of course! The password is the word 'friend'! Come! Let us go inside!"
Gandalf went to step inside just as Branwen felt something slither across her senses. Frodo cried out and Branwen whipped around and saw a pale tentacle with a fingered hand grasping him around the ankle, pulling him to the ground, and into the black water. The water was no longer still but writhing and frothing as it appeared like dozens of these tentacles were coming up from the depths.
Branwen Saw the Shadow had been disturbed and she could See the lifeforce of the creature outlining something reminiscent of the Giant Squid of her Hogwarts education, but far more twisted and evil. Sam ran forward with his short sword drawn, slashing at the tentacle, and grabbed Frodo away as two dozen more arms broke the surface.
Gandalf commanded, "Into the gateway! Up the stairs! Quick!"
As all others turned to run, Branwen stabbed forward her staff violently, as her Voice roared, "FREEZE!"
The edge of the black water seemed to mist for just an instant, before thick ice sprung forth like wave. It froze tentacles in its grip and locked the eldritch abomination beneath the surface. Unfortunately, she was not strong enough to freeze the lake entirely and, already, the captured tentacles were breaking free.
Aragorn called out to her, "Branwen!"
She turned to run and sprinted to the gateway. Branwen had only just made it through the Gates, the sound of slithering following right at her feet, when there was the sound of screeching from stone being sheered. Her staff was caught by something from behind and she felt forward onto a dusty stone floor.
There was only darkness and she could see nothing.
There only silence for a moment before she slowly stood and opened her Sight. Branwen saw the lifeforces of the others just up the stairs. Branwen felt her stomach roll as a thick and noxiousShadow hung in the Unseen within these halls.
Branwen commanded, "Light!"
A white spark sprung from her fingertips and floated in the air to grow to the size of golf ball. Branwen saw the looks of relief on everyone's face seeing her. She looked back and saw the doors had been broken completely and the cliff face had appeared to have caved in under the rage of the foul lake monster.
Her eyes then went lower and she felt the breath leave her lungs. At her feet, the pieces connected only by dragon heartstring, was the broken form of her staff, having been caught and broken by the cave-in.
The Shadow of Moria suddenly seemed much darker.