You Will Regret It
The last watch, manned by Sam, ended with Gandalf's awakening. He decided it was morning, or a few hours past it and they must hurry to get through. A quick, uneventful breakfast followed. Pippin and Arrow sat together talking, her feeling guilty for taking his meal earlier, and him feeling guilty for judging her. Although she would not admit it, she felt she could relate well to the youngest of the hobbits.
"We must move on. Morning is upon us, or well past and I would like to leave here quickly." Gandalf spoke, rising from his seat. The supplies were swiftly packed up, and they began another day of marching.
The thought of escape still lingered on her mind, but both the new concept of friendship and the fact she was not allowed out of their sight stopped her. After her first glimpse of Middle-Earth, the lightless halls of Moria seemed blander than ever. The silver was grayer, the light was darker, the rocks were colder, the air was stuffier, and it all seemed to be trying to choke her.
Her head swam with thoughts, emotions battling fiercely over something she could not even understand. Friends, love, what was all of that? Orcs had no use of it, so she shouldn't either. Then again, she was not of orc kind; she should not have to suffer with them. Around and around her thoughts swirled, and it created a whirlpool of confusion. Yet no hint of this was given from the emotionless façade that was her expression.
At a new turn, the tapping of hammers and other noises that had disappeared came back with a vengeance. Echoes of tapping, whispers of speeches, and the muffled clatter that was a practice fight all came flooding out from the tunnels. Ahead of them was a long passageway with many different rooms to the side.
"We must be swift now. We will go hither until we face our obstacle, and then we must find our way around it. How? I do not know, but draw your weapons for now. Arrow, if you wish to ever leave this place, you will not fight." The wizard warned them.
Immediately the dull air was sliced by the sharp edges of the weapons drawn forth by the company. Arrow longed to simply sit down and think, but there was no time as Gandalf made his way as quickly as possible.
The sounds rose and fell as they made there way without rest or stop. Arrow could not figure what the orcs were playing at. Of course they knew of their presence, but they seemed to be backing away.
Suddenly they stood blinded in a dimly lit room. Arrow did not need to recover; she was used to the surprise of a few randomly brighter rooms. If the others had not stood in a blinking stupor looking so helpless, she may have left them for good.
"Well, are you all going to stand in that spot all day?" She growled, although her voice was soft, so not to disturb the orcs that were ahead.
"We shall as long as a certain girl blocks our path." Gandalf returned, walking past her to the tomb in the chambers center.
"Balin son of Fundin, Lord of Moria." He read from the inscribed rooms. A soft choked sob from Gimli was let out as he lowered his helmet.
"We can not linger here; I know now where we are. Let us hurry." Gandalf urged, and seconds after the words left his lips did a loud sound echo around them.
The other sounds they had heard were muted, and now only a deep rolling, 'doom' sounded about them. As the scurrying of many feet sounded, Aragorn leapt forward.
Perhaps if they had been allowed more time, or if they had been quieter there may have been a bit more planning, but now there was none. Boromir and Aragorn slammed shut the door, barring it with weapons of the fallen. Gandalf seemed as if he would protest, but he was interrupted by the intrusion of a green arm and shoulder slamming against the door.
All was silent, but then a whistling arrow struck the intruding limb. There was a protesting bellow, and then with a giant crash the doors slammed open. Arrows whizzed by the fellowships ears as orc upon orc swarmed into the room. Gandalf had his sword at the ready, but before any of the orcs were felled by him, he gave Arrow a dark look.
"Arrow!" A rather young orc yelled. His threatening run slowed to a walk as he neared her.
"Get away from th"
"Was it necessary to cut his head off?" Arrow demanded of Aragorn as he began to attack a few more. Her eyes narrowed as she thought she saw the slightest nod of his head. Sure, these orcs were not her true family, but did this group honestly believe she would not fight for them? She wanted freedom, but her sense of pride had not left her.
Chaos ensued within the chamber for the next few minutes. An orc tossed Arrow a bow, and another threw a quiver of bows in her direction. She caught them both, running her hands along the familiar surface of the weapon. Arrow was an amazing archer, and surely whichever side she chose to fight with would have an advantage. Which did she value more, her freedom or her pride? Fighting with the fellowship meant she would live the rest of her days haunted by the ghosts of the friends she had slain. Fighting with her family meant she would quite possibly live the rest of her days within a cave. Just then an arrow barely missed her stomach, ending her train of thought. She glanced up expecting to see the elf, but instead it was Pluton. He was shooting at her!
Her mouth opened ready to unleash every unkind word upon him but she couldn't. He'd raised her from a baby and now he was trying to kill her?
In Pluton's mind all he wanted was to injure Arrow, they still needed her if the plan was going to be done. The plan he had schemed about for eighteen long years would not be ruined by an elf, a dwarf, a wizard, Halflings, and men. He felt nothing as he prepared to shoot another arrow at her; he could only think of victory.
The second arrow whizzed through the air on a straight path to Arrow. She dove to the left, landing on the caverns floor. A fire now burned within her, and she made her choice.
"Pluton, you will regret the day you ever took me in!" She roared as she stood. The leader never had much of a chance to decide if that was true or not, because within five seconds an arrow had pierced his head. More weapons were being thrown at her from her family and friends. She shot them all, and did not think twice about it.
The last watch, manned by Sam, ended with Gandalf's awakening. He decided it was morning, or a few hours past it and they must hurry to get through. A quick, uneventful breakfast followed. Pippin and Arrow sat together talking, her feeling guilty for taking his meal earlier, and him feeling guilty for judging her. Although she would not admit it, she felt she could relate well to the youngest of the hobbits.
"We must move on. Morning is upon us, or well past and I would like to leave here quickly." Gandalf spoke, rising from his seat. The supplies were swiftly packed up, and they began another day of marching.
The thought of escape still lingered on her mind, but both the new concept of friendship and the fact she was not allowed out of their sight stopped her. After her first glimpse of Middle-Earth, the lightless halls of Moria seemed blander than ever. The silver was grayer, the light was darker, the rocks were colder, the air was stuffier, and it all seemed to be trying to choke her.
Her head swam with thoughts, emotions battling fiercely over something she could not even understand. Friends, love, what was all of that? Orcs had no use of it, so she shouldn't either. Then again, she was not of orc kind; she should not have to suffer with them. Around and around her thoughts swirled, and it created a whirlpool of confusion. Yet no hint of this was given from the emotionless façade that was her expression.
At a new turn, the tapping of hammers and other noises that had disappeared came back with a vengeance. Echoes of tapping, whispers of speeches, and the muffled clatter that was a practice fight all came flooding out from the tunnels. Ahead of them was a long passageway with many different rooms to the side.
"We must be swift now. We will go hither until we face our obstacle, and then we must find our way around it. How? I do not know, but draw your weapons for now. Arrow, if you wish to ever leave this place, you will not fight." The wizard warned them.
Immediately the dull air was sliced by the sharp edges of the weapons drawn forth by the company. Arrow longed to simply sit down and think, but there was no time as Gandalf made his way as quickly as possible.
The sounds rose and fell as they made there way without rest or stop. Arrow could not figure what the orcs were playing at. Of course they knew of their presence, but they seemed to be backing away.
Suddenly they stood blinded in a dimly lit room. Arrow did not need to recover; she was used to the surprise of a few randomly brighter rooms. If the others had not stood in a blinking stupor looking so helpless, she may have left them for good.
"Well, are you all going to stand in that spot all day?" She growled, although her voice was soft, so not to disturb the orcs that were ahead.
"We shall as long as a certain girl blocks our path." Gandalf returned, walking past her to the tomb in the chambers center.
"Balin son of Fundin, Lord of Moria." He read from the inscribed rooms. A soft choked sob from Gimli was let out as he lowered his helmet.
"We can not linger here; I know now where we are. Let us hurry." Gandalf urged, and seconds after the words left his lips did a loud sound echo around them.
The other sounds they had heard were muted, and now only a deep rolling, 'doom' sounded about them. As the scurrying of many feet sounded, Aragorn leapt forward.
Perhaps if they had been allowed more time, or if they had been quieter there may have been a bit more planning, but now there was none. Boromir and Aragorn slammed shut the door, barring it with weapons of the fallen. Gandalf seemed as if he would protest, but he was interrupted by the intrusion of a green arm and shoulder slamming against the door.
All was silent, but then a whistling arrow struck the intruding limb. There was a protesting bellow, and then with a giant crash the doors slammed open. Arrows whizzed by the fellowships ears as orc upon orc swarmed into the room. Gandalf had his sword at the ready, but before any of the orcs were felled by him, he gave Arrow a dark look.
"Arrow!" A rather young orc yelled. His threatening run slowed to a walk as he neared her.
"Get away from th"
"Was it necessary to cut his head off?" Arrow demanded of Aragorn as he began to attack a few more. Her eyes narrowed as she thought she saw the slightest nod of his head. Sure, these orcs were not her true family, but did this group honestly believe she would not fight for them? She wanted freedom, but her sense of pride had not left her.
Chaos ensued within the chamber for the next few minutes. An orc tossed Arrow a bow, and another threw a quiver of bows in her direction. She caught them both, running her hands along the familiar surface of the weapon. Arrow was an amazing archer, and surely whichever side she chose to fight with would have an advantage. Which did she value more, her freedom or her pride? Fighting with the fellowship meant she would live the rest of her days haunted by the ghosts of the friends she had slain. Fighting with her family meant she would quite possibly live the rest of her days within a cave. Just then an arrow barely missed her stomach, ending her train of thought. She glanced up expecting to see the elf, but instead it was Pluton. He was shooting at her!
Her mouth opened ready to unleash every unkind word upon him but she couldn't. He'd raised her from a baby and now he was trying to kill her?
In Pluton's mind all he wanted was to injure Arrow, they still needed her if the plan was going to be done. The plan he had schemed about for eighteen long years would not be ruined by an elf, a dwarf, a wizard, Halflings, and men. He felt nothing as he prepared to shoot another arrow at her; he could only think of victory.
The second arrow whizzed through the air on a straight path to Arrow. She dove to the left, landing on the caverns floor. A fire now burned within her, and she made her choice.
"Pluton, you will regret the day you ever took me in!" She roared as she stood. The leader never had much of a chance to decide if that was true or not, because within five seconds an arrow had pierced his head. More weapons were being thrown at her from her family and friends. She shot them all, and did not think twice about it.