A/N - Well, I know it's not the story people wanted, but here's some more of it. More chaps available over at Lycelia.

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"Arwen!" shouted several of the fellowship in shock. Arrows thudded into the beast from Legolas and Aragorn even as Boromir waded into the pond with sword and shield. Amidst her panic from being flung around by the tentacle around her leg, Drizzt wished for a handy fire or slicing spell to save her. None came, proving once again that Gandalf was the most worthless wizard she'd ever met.

With all the distractions of battle and being waved about she was only able to conjure a tiny wisp of harmless faerie fire in attempt to scare the beast before it dragged her underwater. She knew he was in deep trouble now. She was struggling not to drown but knew she probably wouldn't live long enough to suffocate. Its grip on her as it dragged her to its maw was as tight as that of a cave fisher and she had nothing to cut herself free with. Damn them for not letting her have any weapons.

'Lloth protect-'

The pull on her leg suddenly went slack. The tentacle was still wrapped around her leg and intent on sticking on but the massive strength of the creature behind it was gone. An arm wrapped around her instead, dragging her weakened body to the surface for a breath of blessed air. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, summoning just enough strength to hold up half of her so that he could use on arm to swing his dagger.

The surface was full of chaos. The archers split their focus between the tentacled beast and the horde of wargs and orcs crushing in around the pond. Neither foe was much deterred by their arrows but for the moment Gimli and Gandalf were holding the line. Turned out the old fellow was a far better swordsman than wizard.

The hobbits weren't slacking either. They weren't terribly effective but they were flinging rocks at the beast in the pond and slashing their daggers at any tentacles that came nearby. They were in the water up to their waists but began to retreat as soon as Boromir reached their line. The men covered all directions from the continued attack of the beast even after they reached land.

"Back! Into the mines!" shouted Aragorn. Drizzt tried to let herself down but Boromir was having none of it. He resisted her struggles with ease, holding her in a bridal carry as he sped into the cavern.

Drizzt stilled as she got her first good look at an orc past his shoulder. She'd thought the wargs were ugly but the riders managed to look even worse. They seemed like a somewhat grayer and taller species of goblin. She knew she'd seen worse things in the Underdark but that was usually only with infravision which wasn't quite the same as seeing it all in vivid color. It didn't help that they seemed to take pride in their ugliness, adding wretched tattoos and piercings and un-stitched scars onto their already loathsome faces. She knew that beauty was no indicator of goodness and vice versa but that didn't stop her skin from crawling at the sight of them.

The battle had slowed somewhat. The pond beast seemed as willing to munch on orcs as it was elves, its fight with them slowing their advance considerably. Only a trickle of enemies found their way into the antechambers of Moria and were swiftly dispatched by Legolas's few remaining arrows. "I'm out." He really should have saved them for later in Drizzt's opinion but there was no use arguing about it now.

"This isn't a mine, it's a tomb," said Aragorn. It took a moment for Drizzt to realize his words weren't simple defeatism. The numerous corpses scattered around the antechamber certainly didn't denote anything good about the health of Moria. The bodies were old, old enough that they should have been buried or burned by now if there was anyone left alive.

"We have to get out of here!" cried Pippin.

"No," said Gandalf, voice booming in the closed space. "We must continue, there is no way back." He matched word to action, throwing open the doors to the rest of Moria. Drizzt couldn't fault him for the choice, even risking whatever might lay in the depths of Moria. There were too many foes behind them to fight their way out with any surety. Perhaps if she was in her old body, full-strength and equipped, but that was a vain wish.

Aragorn spent his last arrow as well to assure the coast was clear as the fellowship retreated behind the next pair of giant doors. Boromir set her down at last in order to aid the group in shutting the doors behind them. A large timber swung into place, preventing the door from being easily reopened. The door shook but held as a warg clawed and slammed the door in fury at its blocked prey.

"That won't hold forever," said Aragorn. "We need to keep moving."

For once Drizzt wholeheartedly agreed with the man who claimed he loved her but she was having trouble getting up. She felt as weak as a newborn babe and wasn't sure why. She'd been deprived of air for a time but she hadn't been truly pushed to the brink. It was hardly the first time she'd come close to death or nearly been eaten for that matter either, so experiencing the shock of a first-timer seemed far-fetched as well. It was true that she hadn't been exercising enough and menstruation had weakened her further but this seemed like more than that.

"I need air," she whispered, unheard by all around her as they argued their course. The air under the mountain was so still it was stifling. Not a hint of a breeze, just pressure like the whole mountain was trying to crush her into the floor. She didn't know why it was affecting her so much when she'd spent nearly her entire life underground but the sensation was powerful. Her head felt too heavy to lift, the magic of the stars above and ancient forests that had flowed through her spirit for months was cut off entirely. All that remained was stone and darkness.