Chapter 28:

Danger in the Dark

Author's Note: Another quick stream of updates. I have a goal scene in mind that I want to write and, apparently, now that the moment is drawing nigh I am compelled to continue writing until I reach that scene. Anyway, I was intending to draw this out to the point where Gandalf and the Balrog have their little showdown, but realized that, as I was writing Aragorn's scenes, it wasn't going to fit comfortably in this chapter.

So, enjoy this quick update. Hopefully I'll get the next chapter updated soon as well.

Again, if you have any questions, comments or concerns, please submit a review and vent your grievances. I need to know what I screw up and if I've lost you as a reader!

Thanks!

January 15th - Lorien - The Healing Halls - Late Afternoon

The comforting voices of Lady Galadriel and Arwen greeted her ears as her mind returned to the waking world. Her throat was scratchy and sore and her eyes felt as if they were bound together by thick cement. A small part of her longed to return to the blank comfort of her mind where sleep and rest gave the tempting promise of oblivion. The rest of her knew better than to give in. As she recalled the events that led to her losing consciousness the way she had, a sense of urgency strummed her veins.

The voices of Lady Galadriel and Arwen were unintelligible. For several long minutes Brianna quietly listened to them and attempted to make out their words. Her brows drew together the longer they spoke. Was something wrong with her ability to understand spoken language? Had her hearing suffered as well?

A particular word Brianna recognized from Ardanian elvish perked her ears and gave her the sought for answer. The lady and her granddaughter were speaking elvish and not common tongue. A certain dialect of Ardanian elvish was so far removed from the language Brianna had grown up learning that it was practically its own. She released a relieved sigh and the tension sparked from worry left along with it.

"She stirs. We will speak further on the subject, granddaughter, fear not. Until then, let us tend to our patient," said Lady Galadriel in the Common Tongue.

Brianna opened her eyes. Both elf ladies sat in wicker chairs next to her bed. She opened her mouth to speak, but Lady Galadriel shook her head.

"Your throat is heavily inflamed from the complex magic you used. It will need a few hours to heal," she said.

Well, good thing there were other ways to speak with the lady. Brianna reached out with her mind to touch Lady Galadriel's. The lady allowed her in once acknowledged.

I failed to mend all of them. There's a massive decay in the expanse around Arda in the East. I didn't have a chance to find it before my strength gave out, Brianna informed her.

Galadriel inclined her head and replied, I know. I looked into the mirror to see what remained. The decay is in Mordor.

Brianna's lips parted as the full implication of the decay's location settled on her. It had been terrible to touch and had left her remembering a sticky sensation in her mind. It had violently resisted her and attacked the song she'd chosen to use against. The decay was reinforced with another, fowler, song that was older than anything Brianna had experienced before.

I will resume fighting it when I finish recovering, she resolved.

Galadriel looked at her, sapphire eyes filled with sorrow, You may try, but I fear you will still fail. It is possible that the only way to combat the decay is to go directly to its source.

There weren't enough curse words in her vocabulary to adequately convey the depth of how screwed she felt she was. She laid in her bed thinking them over and over again until a healer came to test her progress and administer a soothing herbal tea. Brianna bore the rest of the day in resolute solitude. She sent away Artemis and Professor Moruni when they attempted to visit and speak with her. The only person she allowed to visit was Arwen and that was only because the cunning she-elf conned whichever elf was in charge of the healing ward to allow her to step in as Brianna's personal healer.

"You are succeeding in acting like an infant, Miss Davis," Arwen remarked while allowing Brianna's next installment of soothing tea to steep.

Brianna, still under her speech ban, shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest petulantly. Arwen raised a dark brow in a manner that was so like her father's that Brianna wondered if the elf had somehow projected himself into his daughter's mind merely to scold her. It seemed like something he would do. When the raised brow didn't disappear, Brianna sighed and grabbed a piece of parchment to write in the common language. She's spent enough time with Master Bilbo Baggins parsing out the written part of that language to find figure out the letters. Sentence structure was similar and they didn't do anything too different that she hadn't seen in Middle English.

She wrote, You don't have the prospect of going to Mordor and, consequently, the heart of all our enemies combined hanging over your head.

Arwen placed her hands on her hips and said, "That is correct, but how will isolating yourself from friends make a difference?"

It won't, Brianna wrote, they will want to discuss other things with me that I would rather not until the use of my voice is returned.

"Perhaps they wish to prepare for the council about to commence?" Arwen asked.

There's nothing that I can prepare them for that won't have me repeating myself tonight. And, I really would rather not talk about it, Brianna wrote.

Arwen didn't continue her line of questioning, but continued to treat her until early evening when she declared her patient inflammation-free and sent Brianna out of the healing halls and to her room. Later in the evening, after Brianna took the time to have a proper bath and fix her dress, she made her way to Galadriel and Celeborn's reception room to attend their small council. It was a moderately-sized room that held air warmer than that of the spring-like air outside. It's occupants consisted of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, Lord Glorfindel and Lady Arwen, Elrohir and Elladan, Professor Moruni, Artemis, and Brianna sitting in a circle of wooden chairs. No one ventured a comment for several long moments each hesitant to say the words that none of them wished to hear. Brianna sat straight-backed, hands resting lightly on the armrests, and her head held high. She studied each in turn and took care to keep her expression neutral. When she could handle the silence no longer, she closed her eyes and prepared to speak the small speech she'd prepared for the occasion.

Artemis beat her to it.

"Everything we did up to this point was to keep my niece from further danger and bring her home. Are you telling us that our efforts are futile and our queen must venture into the heart of the beast to sing a motherfucking song to him?" She asked with barely concealed rage.

Brianna watched Professor Moruni pinch the bridge of her nose and release an exasperated sigh. There were dark circles under her eyes. This fact surprised her. In all the days she'd known the elder elf, Brianna never knew her to show an inch of fatigue or exhaustion. The elf woman was a pillar of strength and wisdom for her people. She was older than most immortal beings on earth and, Brianna suspected, that she was older than most elves who inhabited Arda and hadn't crossed into the divine lands they called Valinor. Despite feeling sympathy for her mentor's exhaustion, Brianna didn't allow her expression to waiver. Even if her thoughts proved otherwise, in this moment it was better to put on a facade of strength instead of weakness.

Directly across from her Lady Galadriel seemed to have maintained a similar philosophy. The elf lady was younger than the professor, but was better at masking her emotions. Where the professor exuded a personality that shouted her presence to the world just by nature of her being there, Lady Galadriel commanded a quiet, graceful, respect to all who saw her. She was an authority, a ruler in her own right, earned from many years of struggle and experience. Sometimes those experiences revealed great wonder. At least, this is what she gathered from the limited time she'd had to observe the woman.

"We don't yet know that she'll need to go to Mordor, Artemis. We might be able to eradicate and repair the rest of the decay from here," Professor Moruni said pointedly. "Even if that does become the case, we'll deal with it as we've always have."

Brianna took her time observing her aunt. For as long as she'd known her, Artemis was composed, cool and collected. She was a graceful warrior with a keen eye for killing monsters of all kinds and ruled her hunters with a mix of stern compassion and an iron will that refused to break. With the mention of Hades and Aries, her typical composure was gone and was replaced with an air of concern she'd never once displayed for any to see.

"Last time we 'dealt with it' as you say, my sister and queen had to leave Earth just to recuperate from the curse Hades inflicted on her!" Artemis snapped. "Athena almost didn't make it, if you recall?"

Professor Moruni muttered something indistinguishable under her breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse. Brianna was also quite certain the language she used was ancient Greek from the way Artemis's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I'm aware of what happened. I'm equally aware of the fact that Aracasse isn't Athena and might actually have what it takes to kill them," Professor Moruni said, voice stern.

Brianna raised an eyebrow at this. Not just at the professor's liberal use of her true name, but also at what she revealed about her ancestor, Queen Athena. All accounts pointed to Queen Athena being a great warrior who had a mind for being cold and absolute in the destruction of her enemies. For Professor Moruni to say that the past queen was never well equipped to take out both uncle and brother was astonishing to say the least.

Artemis, in response pursed her lips and replied, "My sister had a code that she wouldn't break. That code kept her from killing them as she needed to."

"Yes, and now they're loose again," the professor said sternly.

For a moment, Brianna thought that Artemis would respond. She didn't. Instead, the huntress gripped the arms of her chair, narrowed her eyes at the professor, but kept further remarks to herself. It was an impressive display of self-control on her part, because her grey eyes burned with barely controlled anger. Silence descended like an iron curtain. Brianna met Lady Galadriel's eyes in this time. Her expression was kept carefully blank, but the emotion in her eyes was of grim certainty. Brianna resisted the urge to appear disquieted by her. Despite her appearance of strength, Brianna knew that the increasingly certain future struck a chord of fear in her heart that she couldn't allow to control her.

"Has any reconnaissance being conducted on the… expanse I believe you call it?" Glorfindel inquired.

Professor Moruni inclined her head, "I've searched a bit though not with as much depth as I would like. What has been mended will stay mended so long as the enemy remains distracted by a more appealing goal."

"The ring and our queen," Glorfindel guessed.

"Why do they want our queen?" Arwen asked, casting a fearful glance at Brianna.

"It would depend on who you ask," Professor Moruni responded. "Hades wants revenge on Zeus for taking what he believes is his rightful throne. Aries wants the throne and believes he always had a right to it from birth. He also wished to marry Athena and prop themselves up as the gods of our world. The Dark Lord merely wishes to subjugate her to his will and break her to prove a point. That is what we've gleaned so far, though I must admit that The Dark Lord's motives are mere conjecture. We don't know anything for certain."

I do, Brianna thought. If he breaks me, he breaks the power of one of the few races that can withstand him.

She clenched her jaw to keep herself from trembling at the thought. She couldn't decide which was worse and didn't want to think too much on the different ways they could subjugate and break her.

And there's only one way I can prevent it, she thought.

She didn't know how to feel about what Galadriel and Artemis encouraged her to do. It likely wouldn't be possible for her to see him again for many months and, by then, they would be embroiled into this terrible conflict.

"How do we keep the queen from their evil intentions?" Elrohir asked.

Brianna bit her tongue to keep herself from blushing. Professor Moruni glanced at her with knowing green eyes. Artemis remained stoic, though her angry posture abated somewhat.

Lady Galadriel looked straight at Brianna, making her squirm, as she replied, "She will need to join in flesh and soul with her destined one."

Brianna shifted, ever so slightly, in her seat. I can't believe we're talking about this now! She thought.

"That would, indeed, solve the problem. The only issue I can see is that we don't know who her mate is," Lord Celeborn said.

To her upmost mortification, Professor Moruni snorted in amusement. Artemis "tsk"ed, and Arwen, Glorfindel and her brothers exchanged knowing smiles. Lady Galadriel merely smiled, but did so in a way that didn't further her embarrassment.

"We have a good guess at who this person is," she said tactfully. "The issue is enabling such a union. It isn't certain that he will come here."

"Even if he does come to Arda to search for her, how do we propose to find him?" Lord Celeborn asked.

"He's already in Arda," Professor Moruni said smugly.

The silver-haired elf lord gaped at her and breathed, "Do you mean to say that another elf queen has met her destined one in Arda?"

"That would bring the number to a total of three," Glorfindel said easily and grinned at Brianna whose composure was crumbling with each embarrassing word.

"Ah, yes, the Queen Laurealasse had taken a mate many years before Queen Athena came to our world," Lord Celeborn remarked.

"An elf of little consequence, as I recall, though was later informed by Laurelie and Athena that he made a name for himself on Earth," Lady Galadriel remarked.

Brianna took the diverged subject for what it was: a chance for her to regain her composure. She tuned the rest of them out as they reminisced about her ancestor, the Great Queen Laurealasse, who was as tall as a man, thin as a willow, with golden-yellow hair that cascaded in long waves down her back to her knees. It was told that she was the fairest of all the elven queens to date and had the most control of enith gilthaes since the Great Flooding of the Earth. Her husband had been an elf from a distant land. He was plain for an elf, but was a skilled fighter with little to no ability to use magic. It was said that their union had introduced the Aldura eyes to that, particular, noble line, though only one child - the marked ruler - had it.

That had been almost seven thousand years ago, she thought. Athena would have arrived here about three thousand five hundred years ago in our time though I suspect time passes differently here than on Earth.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Lord Celeborn asked, "Who is this destined one we're so certain of?"

Brianna blinked, startled out of her reverie, and clenched the armrests of her chair tightly. Lady Galadriel and Arwen looked to her as one, observed her discomfort with the subject at hand, and jointly cleared their throats.

"It may be best that we keep his identity to the few who know or suspect his identity," Arwen said graciously. "I understand everyone's mutual interest in the subject, but I would venture to believe that it might behoove us to keep his identity as much of a secret as we can."

All eyes turned to Brianna to gage her reaction to such a declaration.

Brianna, for her part, breathed in and said, "We're not certain of where he will be or whether or not he will come to Lorien during my time here. It's best we keep his identity a secret until he either comes to me, or I come to him."

"And if you come to him too late?" Glorfindel, who knew for certain the identity of Aragorn as we "mate",asked incredulously.

She clenched her jaw at the thought and replied, "It's a possibility that has been considered, but one we think has no weight. I'm… almost certain that I will see him before I have a chance to be brought before the enemy as a prized mare."

To her relief, no one questioned why she knew this; and, either those assembled knew of Galadriel's mirror, or none wished to inquire further. Brianna was grateful for this. There were many things that she didn't want to elaborate on regarding the visions of past, present and future to her current audience. The subject of Aragorn was a particular one she wanted to avoid, not only because the subject made her uncomfortable, but because of the fact that, had she never looked into the mirror and seen her emotionless future self burn him to death, she never would have witnessed the consequences of her rejecting him. The fact remained that, should the Fellowship come to Lothlorien as she and Galadriel suspected, Aragorn would certainly wish to solidify their bond as mates. If Brianna hadn't had concrete confirmation of what would become of her and the world then she would have rejected him.

The problem with that was how wrong it felt to enter into a life where she was, not only bound to him in oath and magic, but also in flesh and emotion. To have such a condition hanging over their heads unsettled her. Modern society told everyone who would listen - which was most people - that a couple should enter into a marriage for love and love only.

And modern society is equally as unhappy in their marriages because of it, a very annoying part of her mind that was completely for the logic of the idea reminded her.

She tapped the edge of her armrest in annoyance though was careful not to let it show on her face. The professor noticed; however, and raised an eyebrow that clearly asked "what's wrong with you?" Brianna didn't make an attempt to respond. They would speak later.

"Should there not first be a betrothal?" Lord Celeborn asked.

"I do agree that it would be better if there was an engagement, but the situation as it stands may require haste over propriety," Professor Moruni said.

Brianna bit the inside of her cheek once again to keep herself from mentioning that she and Aragorn possibly had an understanding. It was a true statement, but it didn't explain most of it. They understood each other when they last met.. They understood that it was best not to speak of their mutual regard for the other. They understood that no union would be possible for them.

"We should first test all avenues before we make such a hasty decision," Lord Celeborn advised. "It will not do to rush into any course of action without knowing the entirety of the facts. In any case, the other half of the dialogue isn't present to give his input on the matter."

"Agreed," said Glorfindel, "we can't proceed without verifying that the decay in Mordor can't be expunged and the breech healed."

Before further discussion could continue, Brianna held up her right hand. All potential responses died and all eyes turned their full attention to her.

"I will look into the situation, myself, with no help from anyone else. Only one of us need enter the expanse. Who better than I?" she said with an air of finality that brooked no room for argument.

"And if you can do nothing else?" Lady Galadriel asked.

Brianna met her eyes, "Then I will do what needs to be done to ensure the safety of the world."

She looked to her fellow elves from earth as she lowered her hand. Professor Moruni looked resigned but unsurprised by the direction Brianna's thoughts had taken her. Artemis looked as if she fervently wished to argue the decision. Their eyes met and Brianna shook her head. The lady huntress pursed her lips, but kept her dissent to herself. They would speak later.

Professor Moruni, who observed the exchange, nodded in agreement, "Then let us reconvene after my apprentice double checks her work."

January 15th - Late Morning - Moria - The Tomb of Balin

The day had begun with a sliver of hope Aragorn hadn't chanced to believe. Gandalf seemed to have made an accurate guess as to where he was and the company were and they no longer trekked through pitch-dark caverns. The path was almost clear and soon they would be out of the mines. Once they left, Aragorn's mind would ease just a little bit from the overbearing feeling that they'd ventured into a cesspool of evil. Then, shortly after breakfast, Gandalf led them into the northernmost arch logically seeking a window that could allow him to regain his bearings. Through the arch and down a long corridor, was a room that harbored the tomb of Balin, the last dwarf lord of Moria. As Gandalf gravely read the words from the last remaining book in what was recognized the be the Chamber of Marzabul - the hall of records - that spelled the fate of the brave dwarves who had led their final attempt to retake Moria from the evil that dwelt within. It was not a kind fate and it prompted Aragorn to begin inspecting the room from where he stood looking for clever hiding places and exits. Nothing existed in the room any longer the company could use to hide themselves in case of an attack and the only exits were the partially opened stone door they'd entered the room through and a little door on the eastern side of the room.

While Gandalf leafed through the pages of the old book, Aragorn stepped over to the little door and carefully slide it open. The corridor beyond was dark and seemed to lead away from the great hall harboring the northern archway. As the wizard read and the others listened morbidly enraptured by the horrific words written by the dwarf identified as Ori, Aragorn continued inspecting the room. His disquiet from the past few days grew with each word uttered and caused his mind to recall the last time he was in Moria. The darkness, the goblins, the horrors unimaginable with an ever-growing awareness of a dark presence waiting deep within the mines hoping to catch him unawares and snuff out his life.

"… the end comes and then drums, drums in the deep. I wonder what that means. The last thing written is in a trailing scrawl of elf-letters: they are coming. There is nothing more," Gandalf read.

Aragorn paled. He looked to Legolas who seemed to have come to a similar conclusion and was looking at him with an expression of equal horror.

"We are not alone here," mouthed the elf.

Aragorn inclined his head to affirm the elf's theory and looked at Gandalf whose expression was grave. The wizard glanced around the room as if taking everything in and then turned his attention to Gimli.

"They seem to have made a last stand by both doors and so ended the valiant but foolish attempt to retake Moria. Alas but it was not yet time. Now, I fear we must say farewell to Balin son of Fundin," the wizard muttered sadly before looking to Gimli and holding out the tattered book. "You had better keep this and take it back to Dain should you get a chance. It will interest him though grieve him deeply."

Gimli, strangely subdued, accepted the precious last words of Balin and those brave companions who ventured to take back such a cursed hall. Aragorn watched Gandalf as he rose to his feet, staff in hand, and turned back to the door they'd come through.

"Come! Let us go as the morning is passing and I have no wish to remain!" Gandalf said gruffly. "I now know where we are and the gates are close."

Aragorn had his hand on the pommel of his sword before he heard the sound that froze his blood.

Doom!

Doom!

Doom!

The sounds of hastily padding footsteps reached his ears. They were armored, calloused, and clawed.

Goblins! Aragorn thought as if it were a curse. And here are we trapped in this cave like animals awaiting slaughter!

A horn blared a loud, long note. The hobbits scrambled back from the door and huddled against the tomb. Aragorn, instinctively, moved in front of them.

Legolas drew his sword and cried, "They are coming!"

"Slam the doors and wedge them!" Aragorn said urgently. "Keep your packs on as long as you can should we get a chance to cut our way out!"

"No!" cried Gandalf. "Keep the east door ajar! We will go that way if we get a chance!"

At the sound of another horn the harsh cries of their enemies rang out as they passed under the northern arch and into the wide hall leading out of the room. As one the company drew their swords. Boromir set his shoulder against the western door and prepared to shove it shut. Gandalf rushed to the door.

"Wait a moment!" Gandalf ordered and drew himself up to his full height and cried out,"Who comes hither to disturb the rest of Balin, Lord of Moria?"

Hoarse laughter met their ears. Aragorn's grip on the hilt of Anduril tightened. His eyes narrowed as the sound of the drums reverberated in the room. Gandalf moved in front of the narrow opening and shined the light of his staff down the length of the corridor. He sprang back a moment later as arrows whistled down the corridor toward him.

"There are a group of orcs hovering near the back of the corridor. Something larger is behind them. Cave trolls, I think. There's no hope of escape that way," the wizard informed them.

"There will be no hope at all if they come through the east door," Boromir said.

"I saw and heard nothing outside the eastern door. The passage on this side plunges straight down a stair and plainly doesn't lead back towards the hall. However, I don't think its wise to fly blindly down this passage with pursuit just behind us," Aragorn said. "We must do something to delay the enemy first."

The sound of quick-pounding feet thudded down the hall beyond the western door. Boromir shoved, hard, against the door and shut it. He and Gimli scuttled across the ground wedging broken swords and splinters of wood into the door's cracks. The company moved back from the door to the other side of the room once they were finished and waited.

They didn't wait long.

An arm, big, burly and dark with green scales, thrust through the opening gap. Boromir sprang forward and attempted to slice the arm off, but his sword reverberated as it bounced off the green scales. Frodo followed soon after with a shout and stabbed his little sword, Sting, into the hideous foot pushing through the wedged door. A loud bellow shook the room and the foot jerked back.

"One for the Shire! Well done Frodo!" Aragorn said.

Shortly after such praise left his lips, Aragorn heard a crash against the door. Then another and another followed quickly after. Dust and dirt fell from the ceiling. Aragorn fell into a stance, making sure to put himself between the door and the hobbits, and waited. The door burst open and orc after orc strode into the room. Aragorn struck each of them with the deadly accuracy gained from centuries of fighting. His breath quickened with the fire and the rage building within. The well of fear and dread was forgotten and his blood sang for the lives of orcs. Anduril's blade flared with a subtle flame that singed the dark skin of each orc that came for him and the hobbits.

When thirteen had fallen, the rest fled the room shrieking obscenities in their foul language. Gandalf stepped toward the eastern gate.

"Let us go quickly before the troll returns!" breathed Gandalf.

Aragorn motioned to the hobbits to run for the door, but before they could reach it another contingent of orcs stepped through the western opening. One particular orc - something that Aragorn assumed to be a chieftain of sorts - charged into the room wielding a great spear and shield. With his shield the orc battered away Boromir's sword and threw the man to the ground. Aragorn, grunting with the rage that had built with each altercation, swung at the orc's head. The orc ducked out of the path of his sword and charged into the company before Aragorn could recover and thrust its spear into Frodo's side. Frodo cried out as the spear pushed him from the ground and pinned him against the nearest wall.

Aragorn's heart skipped a beat before he turned fully and charged his adversary. An enraged cry escaped him just as Sam's sword broke the orc's spear in half. Aragorn swung Anduril onto the orc's head before it could draw its sword. Flame flashed and the orc's helm burst into pieces as Anduril's blade cleaved through its head. The rest of the orcs fled the room. Aragorn made to follow after them with Boromir hot on his heels when Gandalf stopped them.

"No! Now is the last chance! Run for it!"

Aragorn stopped, turned,sheathed his sword and ran to where Frodo lay. He scooped the hobbit into his arms and made for the stair. Without a second thought, he pushed Merry and Pippin in front of him and waited for Boromir to push the door open.

"I'm all right!"

Aragorn nearly dropped the hobbit suddenly writhing in his arms. Frodo looked up at him, wide blue eyes alight with urgency, as he insisted that he could walk.

"I thought you were dead!" Aragorn said, astonished.

"Not yet!" snapped Gandalf. "There is no time to wonder! Wait for me a few minutes at the bottom! Go! Quickly!"

Aragorn set Frodo on his feet and the two charged out of the narrow hole Boromir had made along with the rest of the company. Gandalf stayed behind with his sword drawn and staff alight. As Aragorn descended the stairs the dread returned to the forefront of his mind. It was so strong that he nearly stumbled in his step, but managed to keep the rhythm of his feet against the steps steady.

Something comes, he thought, and I fear what it might be.

As he descended into pitch-black passage with Frodo before him, Aragorn looked over his shoulder and saw the comforting light of Gandalf's staff glimmering through the cracked doorway.

He resisted his heart urging him to turn back. Frodo's life was, ultimately, more important than Gandalf's.