-: Authors Note :-
Thank you for the kind reviews.
I know you have all been waiting for this story to be updated for a long time now, and I'm sorry it's slow progress. I was about to settle down and mass write a bunch of chapters for this ... then Coronavirus hit. I'm an essential worker and have been working nearly every day to help my company cope. Things are starting to calm down a bit now so I am hoping to get back to my original plans.
Eragon95159 :: Interesting ideas in regards to Helms Deep and it has crossed my mind a few times. I'm still deciding what things she will directly influence, what things are going to be a fixed point, and how things change if she does warn certain factions of future events.
He couldn't be dead... Not already ... it was too soon!
Yet Boromir did not rouse from the spot where he had fallen, his body propped against the wall and head hanging heavily over his chest. A sickness filled me, a horrible feeling as I wondered if I had done something wrong, if despite all my efforts I had altered history without even trying. I scrambled to the fallen Gondorian's side, shoving aside an Orc that now bore down on the man to assure itself that his foe was deceased. My breath burned in my lungs, a sure sign I was pushing myself beyond my limits, but I couldn't stop to rest. Surprise only halted the orc for a breath. Already it was rushing back, eyes blazing in anger that I had robbed him of his fun. I repaid his anger by parrying aside his wide swing, propelling him back with my shoulder and plunging my sword into his chest.
A quick inhale of breath behind me drew my attention as the orc dropped to the ground. My eyes met those of Boromir as he moved once more, his right arm raising to rest over his chest as he spat out a mouthful of blood over his jerkin. I immediately dropped to one knee, eager to check him for injuries and feeling a minor concern that he might have internal bleeding. Boromir shakily moved his hand from his breast to press me aside, gentle and yet firm at the same time. He gave me an intense look and a stiff nod of his head that said he was fine, that there wasn't time for anything else. That despite how ghastly things were, it could have been much worse.
I nodded and stepped back as he got to his feet, his body wobbling as he attained some manner of strength over his legs, then giving another nod toward Aragorn. It was a silent sign to let his fellow Gondorian know that he was okay. Boromir gave his head one last shake, clearing away the last residue of persisting pain before he threw himself back into the battle. I followed in Boromir's wake, keeping close to make sure he was okay, and to protect his back from our all too eager foes. The presence of the troll didn't make fighting in such a compact space any easier, we constantly had to avoid the violent swings of its club as it swung the item aimlessly through the air. The troll didn't seem to care whom it hit, crushing both foe and ally indiscriminately. Pain and anger overwhelmed the mind of the creature, causing it to lash out in every which way.
"Will this foul beast ever fall?"
Boromir's voice was full of irritation and a hint of unease. His shield raising to take a sword blow from his newest foe and I noted that his movements were becoming sluggish. The troll wasn't the only one battling with pain and exhaustion. Our company was also struggling to survive, but the human body could only put up with so much.
"It will ... we have to keep fighting,"
The fellowship needed me to give a ray of hope despite the fears that came with giving them any hint of their fate. My words seemed to spur a new vigour into Boromir as he pushed back the orc with his shield. I surged forward, giving the orc no room to recover and swinging my sword upward across its torso. It still felt wrong to take the life of another, to watch the life leave their eyes, but I couldn't let this creature live. This was a tortured being that would kill either me or my friends if I let it, and I would let no one die today!. The sounds of battle filled my every sense as I continued to fight my way through the black mass of orcs with Boromir by my side.
"FRODO,"
The familiar voice of Samwise broke over the shouts of the battle, a tortured voice that caused me to turn my head. It was hard to see exactly what was happening over the mass of whirling bodies, but I didn't need to see what was happening. I knew that The Troll had skewered Frodo, that the hobbit laid on the ground gasping for breath. I had to remind myself that he would be fine, that he was wearing the Mithril shirt, but that didn't stop the surge of fury I felt. Some wicked creature had injured Frodo and I would not stand for it. I tightened my grip on my sword, rushing forward to help the fellowship in their battle against the massive beast. I slashed my sword against the impenetrable hide of the Troll's leg, each swing would barely break the skin and I had to be careful as the enormous creature was staggering a lot more now as the many wounds on its body had an effect.
The troll let out an indistinct rumbling sound, staggering backwards slightly as Legolas let loose one more arrow that lodged deep in the troll's throat. It reached up to remove the arrow, unsteadily trying to remain on its feet and then falling to the ground.
A sudden silence filled the room, an eerie hush that felt alien after being exposed to the sounds of battle for so long. I glared down at the body of the troll, feeling both relieved that this fight was over and terrified that a new terror would soon replace it. My arms felt as if they had turned to lead, an energy sapping burden I had to fight against just to clean my sword - wiping the length of my blade on a corner of my jerkin before returning it to its sheath. I knew that I must look an absolute state, covered in the black blood of a dozen orcs and hair hanging limply around my face thanks to the weight of my sweat. A deep breath filled my lungs, the taste of must and blood still yet persisted in the air and I distracted myself by turning my attention to where the fellowship was gathering around the fallen body of Frodo.
I knew he was fine, that I didn't need to get in the crowd of bodies, and yet I was drawn into the gathering never the less. A gasp left my lips as my eyes settled on the pure silver vest that Frodo wore. I had known that Mithril was beautiful, but the props team of the film had not done it justice. The vest was stunning, a thing beyond my explanation, and all I could do was gawk in admiration as Frodo nervously tried to shift the item back under his battle stained shirt.
"You are full of surprises, Master Baggins,"
Gimli's voice pulled me out of my silent awe, a reminder that we could not linger in this evil place for too long despite the general surprise of the Fellowship that the Hobbit was still alive. All I wanted to do was just fall to the ground and rest, but the sound of orcish shrieks drifting down the hallway quickly put a stop to that idea. I reached over for Boromir's shoulder and steadied myself against him. His leather pauldron was sticky with drying blood, but I did not flinch from such a thing - had seen enough blood this day that I was almost immune to the sight of it by now.
"We have to move,"
My voice sounded brittle and dry, a foreign sound that didn't sound right to my ears at all. Boromir reached for the waterskin that hung at his side, handing it over and I more than eagerly accepted it from him - there wasn't time to indulge myself in a good long drink but at least my throat felt better after the short gulp of water that I allowed myself.
"To the bridge of Khazad Dum,"
I handed the waterskin back to Boromir, letting my hand fall from his shoulder and following Gandalf as the wizard ran back out into the dark of the Dwarrowdelf. Gandalf could run a lot faster then I expected given how old he was, his ancient face seeming both full of boundless energy and exhaustion at the same time. Seeing him push through this gave me the strength to go on as we ran ever deeper into the gloom of the mines. The sounds of thousands of orcs echoed from every corner, a reminder that for all our strengths we would be hard-pressed to defeat such an army and we needed to get out of here fast!
The sound of Gimli huffing and puffing from my right-hand side also reminded me that for all my struggles there was someone in the fellowship that was doing worse than myself. I briefly recalled the words he would one day speak, that dwarves were not built for cross-country. He was heavily built, dangerous over a short distance. Gimli's legs had to be burning ten times worse than mine, and yet like me, he kept going - pushed on by the awareness that death awaited should we allow exhaustion to claim us. I focused my mind on the knowledge that as unpleasant as this was we would be out of here before long, would get the long-needed rest we all desired in a place of safety.
I almost collided with Gandalf's back as he came to a halt, had been so fixated on putting one foot in front of the other I'd forgotten the overwhelming ocean of orcs that had encircled our fellowship. I stared out into the darkness, trying to get a gauge on just how many orcs there were, but it was impossible to count. My body turned on impulse, my right arm reaching to grab Pippin and pull him behind me as the fellowship closed ranks into a protective circle around the hobbits. A loud shout from Gimli reverberated into the darkness, a sound of defiance and acceptance that we would find death in the halls of his people.
A stillness fell over the orcs as if the roar from the dwarf had given them second thoughts about attacking this dangerous foe, and then a rumbling sound reverberated from the depths of the mines - as if the entire mountain had come alive. I looked up, eyes fixating on the amber glow that bloomed at the end of the chasm. Panic spread through the ranks of the orcs, sounds of terror leaving them as they fled into the dark, much to Gimili's delight. I could hear him laughing, oblivious to the fact it was not him that had caused the orcs to flee but something far more dangerous. His laughter died off as the amber glow grew ever brighter, and the rumbling sound grew ever louder.
"Run,"
There was no argument from any of us.
Gandalf once again led the way toward the end of the Dwarrowdelf, his body smashing against a roughly hewn wall as he waved for us to go through the black doorway to his right. I dashed forward after both Boromir and Legolas, wanting to shout a warning of the fall that awaited at the other side but couldn't find the breath to do so. The space beyond the door was gigantic, a space beyond my imaging and if I hadn't been so alarmed at the sight of Boromir teetering on the edge of a collapsed set of stairs, then I might have wondered how the dwarves stopped such a space from crashing in on itself. I was beyond relieved when Legolas wrapped his arm around the man, pulling him back from the edge and lying back against what stairs remained as both recovered from the realization that if Legolas had not been there Boromir would have plunged into the depths of the mines.
My eyes met those of the elf and I gave him a grateful nod.
Legolas didn't need to put himself in danger to save Boromir, but I was glad he had done so. The elf returned the nod, carefully pushing the gondorian back to his feet and jogging off down the one set of stairs that had survived the ages. Boromir's face was pale when I turned to make sure he was okay following the incident. He reached over to grasp my hand and it relieved me to feel that his grip was still firm despite what had happened. It was a moment over all too soon as he pulled me after him down the stairs and I was glad he still held my hand because it was a distraction from the sheer drop to my right. Did the dwarves never hear of health and safety? Why did these stairs not have some kind of barrier to prevent any falls? Why of all the thoughts that might be in my head right now did it have to be this question? I was still contemplating this when we came upon the next barrier - another shattered segment of the stairway.
"Fuck,"
The whispered swear left my lips without me even thinking about it as I stared down into the deep abyss. Watching Legolas easily leap across the gap did little to fill me with confidence. It was okay for the elf; he was naturally graceful and sure of foot! He wasn't a clumsy human woman that would no doubt fall to her death after a clumsy attempt to jump the gap. The feeling of the stairwell shaking below us, and a dim amber glow making itself known in the doorway reminding me yet again that it was better to at least try then to die to that fell creature.
"Gandalf,"
Legolas waved for the wizard to jump across the gap. Gandalf nodded and then gestured to me with an apologetic smile before draping an arm firmly around my side. Then he pulled me along with him before I even had time to protest, the sensation of sailing through the air and of the firmness of stone under my feet once again as we safely reached the other side. It took me a moment to realise what had taken place, that we'd made the jump, and I hadn't fallen as I had feared. I took a breath, the sound of arrows hitting the stone stairway above us reminding me of the danger the orcs still presented. Legolas mumbled to himself in elvish as he pulled out his bow and returned fire at the group of orcs that had taken up residence somewhere high in the dark corners of the mountain.
"Merry. Pippin,"
Boromir's voice broke through the darkness next, accompanied by a grunting shout as he leapt over the gap with a heavy hobbit under each arm. The combined weight of the group, with the continued earth-shaking steps of the approaching Balrog, caused another piece of the stairway to give way. I felt somewhat glad that Gandalf had made me jump when he did, for I was sure I never would have gathered the courage to attempt it after the collapse. Boromir lowered the two hobbits down onto the staircase and then turned back to motion to Aragorn with both arms. Aragon looked like he understands exactly what his fellow man demanded, lifting Samwise to his feet and throwing the hobbit over to the waiting arms of Boromir who easily caught the Hobbit.
"Nobody tosses a Dwarf,"
I could hear Gimli's grumbled refusal of Aragorn's help to cross the gap even from here. The dwarf flung himself across the void without even a second thought, a hearty yell leaving him that cut short the moment his feet hit the edge of the stairwell and his body started descending backwards. Legolas reacted in an instant, grabbing at the dwarf's beard before Gimli fell out of arm's reach.
"Not the beard! Not the beard!"
Legolas pulled the dwarf towards him, an arm wrapping around the shorter male to make sure he was steady and then letting him free to watch with wide eyes as more of the staircase tumbled away into darkness. The gap was now too immense for Aragorn and Frodo to cross; the pair looked across the gap between us with wide eyes as the shaking of the stone beneath our feet grew ever heavier as the Balrog got closer. Enormous lumps of rock plunged down from the ceiling high above us, and I watched as one of those rocks slammed into the stairway behind Frodo and Aragorn. If I hadn't seen the movies, then I would have said that the situation was beyond all hope - that there was now no escape for the pair.
The column of stone they stood on swayed beneath them, slowly at first and then with growing momentum as gravity pulled at the unstable rock. The column swayed backwards, and then forward as the rocks that held it together tumbled away into darkness. I had to steady myself as the sagging pile of rocks smashed against the staircase we stood on, giving Aragorn and Frodo the perfect opportunity to throw themselves off the disintegrating column. Boromir caught Frodo easily, and Legolas steadied Aragon as the ranger ran past him. We had to get off the stairs fast. Lord knows how stable the rest of the stone was! I ran after Aragorn, overlooking all about my prior worries of just how dangerous these stairs were and just wanting to get out of the mines already!
The stairs seemed to go in into eternity, taking us ever further into the mine and I wondered just how much deeper we would have to go. So far we had remained one step ahead of the Balrog, but that wonderful luck would only last so long. The only solace I had was that we were at least going down the stairs and could use gravity as an aid in our flight - if we had needed to run up the stairs then I was sure I would have passed out by now. I almost let out a squawk of joy as the stairs ended, leaving us in an enormous area that must have once been a grand entryway. An imposing set of wide stairs rose into yet another hallway to our right. It was impossible to see what lay beyond, the heat of the flames that flickered wildly at their base making it difficult to see beyond their haze.
The shape that grew out of those flames was immense, far bigger than the troll that we had defeated back in Balin's burial chamber. The angry black mass of the Balrog's body reminded me of blackened lava, blazing orange cracks crossing its surface with every move of the beast - as if a volcano had come to life to pursue us to our deaths. A horned face stared down at us with uncaring red fiery eyes, then the mouth of the beast opened. The sound that emanated from that cavity was much like two rocks rubbing against each other, with the deep rumbling of a jet plane taking off as the fallen god rushed toward us. I dared not look any longer at the intimidating monster as it bore down on us, spinning from the stairs and then bolting toward the single thin bridge that stood between us and the salvation of sunlight that waited just beyond it.
The bridge of Khazad Dum was everything I expected it to be. Barely an arm's width in width at the middle and seemingly too thin to hold its own weight, let alone that of the fellowship. Fear of the Balrog spurred me to proceed onward despite my worry of just how precarious the bridge was. The bobbing head of Frodo reminding me who I was doing this for - if I was scared then just how terrified was the hobbit? Roped into a quest he'd never asked for and seeing frightful things that would scar him for life. He would need all the strength he could get once Gandalf fell. The hobbit reached the opposite side before me, turning speedily on his feet to stare back at the approaching horror of the Balrog.
"Gandalf!"
I laid a hand on his shoulder as I reached Frodo, trying to pull him away from what he was about to see, but the Hobbit was impossibly strong. All any of us could do was watch as Gandalf stood in the middle of the bridge, looking all too small as he faced off the inhuman creature that idled at the edge of the ravine.
"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass! The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass!"
The bridge shook as the Balrog took a step onto it, but held strong even against the immense weight of the beast. The monster raised to his full height, a whip of flame appearing from the wildfire that was his body. He cracked the weapon in the air. The snap that arose from such a move was so loud that I was sure it would deafen me. Gandalf was unbothered by this, lifting his staff and Glamdring above his head and then bringing both down to slam against the bridge with a bright flash of light that made the Balrog take a step back. The nostrils of the Balrog flared as it looked down at the being that stood before it, seeming to size up the foe that it now faced before seeming to decide on a course of action and racing forward toward Gandalf.
Everything slowed down again. The fight from the burial chamber had seemed like only seconds had passed. Now it seemed like each second was but an eternity, daring me to do something and yet stuck to the spot with the sick knowledge I could do nothing at all to stop what was about to happen.
The bridge shattered under the Balrog and the beast tumbled into the depths of the abyss below the bridge. Even now the Balrog was not going down without a fight, its whip-cracking through the air and wrapping around Gandalf's. The wizard wobbled and then dropped, somehow catching on a ledge with his fingertips as he fell, and dangling there on the edge, his face flickering in the dying light of the Balrog. Frodo's desperate cries reached my ears as Boromir caught the hobbit before he could run to Gandalf's aid. I grabbed onto Gimli whom was also moving to aid the wizard. I wasn't as strong as Boromir, despite digging my feet as much as I could into the rock the much heavier male was pulling me along with him. Why couldn't any of them see he was sacrificing himself to save them? That going to save him would only cheapen his sacrifice if one of them died.
"Fly you fools!"
Gandalf slipped out of sight, and while I knew I would see him again the agony of watching him fall still made itself known in my heart. I had to assure myself that I could not change this, could not have made that risk, but that didn't mean it was any easier to make that choice.
How many more times would I have to choose?
I looked up into Boromir's eyes as we stepped out in the blinding light of the sun. The distant green tops of a forest lined the horizon, a visible sign that the golden woods of Lothlórien where not far away - that the death of the one I loved was not far away.
I dropped to the ground in tears.
Once upon a time the only choices I would have to make would be what sandwich to have with my meal deal, and what TV series I would binge watch on my time off. I didn't want to watch my friends die, to be the one that might save them, but knowing that to save one life I might have to sacrifice a dozen more.
At that moment I badly wanted to return home, to be far away from both the pain and responsibilities of this world.