Chapter III
Gimli
Summery: The Company journeys into the Mines of Moria.
Gimli's POV.
Rating: PG-13
"Maybe there is no right choice."
-Gimli, 'The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers'
The excitement alone was killing me; forcing me
to almost run ahead of the others. It was not until I heard the screams
of the Ring-bearer that I turned to look behind me. A tentacle of sorts
was wrapped about his right leg, dragging him to the murky water outside.
Aragorn, Legolas, and I went racing after him; Gandalf stayed behind in
what appeared to be thought while the other three hobbits stood in surprise,
staring at the spot where Frodo had been standing before he was pulled
away.
The Men slashed at the creature with swords while
I used my ax to much avail. It let go of Frodo and wormed its way back
into the murky water. The Company stood for a while in patience, waiting
for another strike from the monster. There was no movement in the water,
not even a ripple on the surface. The first to turn back into the cave
was Legolas, the Elf. Just goes to show how easily Elves give up. I stand
still waiting until the hand of Boromir pulls me reluctantly into the Mines.
"Come along, then, Master Dwarf. Time to be off,"
said Boromir in a whisper. I do not believe that anyone, besides the Elf,
heard him. If in fact they had heard the words they did not seem to be
very interested in them. Frodo traveled in front of myself and Boromir,
along side him were the other three hobbits; Sam being the closest. I studied
the others as best I could in the darkness surrounding our group of nine.
When my eyes came to the Elf I saw a sudden change
in him. His ear twitched unnaturally, as though he had heard a far off
sound. Quicker then my eyes could follow he drew out an arrow, fit it to
his string and launched it at the doors. The Company looked back to see
the foul creature from the water had quietly been stalking us. It drew
out of the cave with an arrow between its eyes and apparently it was in
a great deal of pain. While exiting back to the safety of the water the
creature had torn down the arch of the ceiling above us. The rocks crumbled
from the ceiling, blocking the doors.
"It appears we only have one choice now," said
Gandalf while setting a light to his staff. He began to lead us forward
when a pungent aroma assaulted me. It was the stench of death. Curious,
I looked at the large room before me. The bodies of at least two dozen
dwarves lay in eternal sleep before me. Legolas was bending down at one,
pulling out an arrow from the dead's chest.
"Goblins," spoke the Elf to the Company. At once
weapons were drawn, glinting through the tears welling in my eyes. We entered
stealthily, not making any sound except scuffling of cloths. Behind me
trailed the hobbits and behind them the two Men looking this way and that.
My eyes were pinned forward, looking past the wizard and Elf into the gloom
that awaited us.
~*~
I was more than excited to finally travel through
Moria, but the bones of my fellow dwarves soon stole away from me all the
excitement. Now I was most alert, ready for anything to sprout out of the
darkness to threaten the nine of us. No sound emanated during those uneventful
days of walking. There was only ever the soft noise of our shoes against
the hard stone ground. Every so often I would wonder to myself if there
were anything left alive in the once great mines. A deep and mysterious
voice in the back of my mind told me that there were no dwarves left alive,
but there may be other things. Far more dangerous things that hide silently
in the oppressing darkness.
Nothing had occurred worth any note since arriving
in the Mines. Every once in awhile I would sometimes see the Ring-bearer
look suddenly in a direction and peer into the darkness as though he saw
something. I did not question this, that I left to Samwise, who never let
me down. The reply given was always the same; the young hobbit would shake
his head and say that he saw nothing, though his hand would go nervously
to a spot on his cloths where the Ring lay hidden underneath. His face
would go pale out of nowhere sometimes and he would jump should on of us
touch him ever so slightly.
"What is troubling you?" asked Gandalf quietly
during our second night in the Mines. Frodo whisper something in return
that I did not catch. Whatever it was, it did not take Gandalf by much
surprise. He replied to Frodo, and the hobbit seemed to relax slightly.
At the present time, our fourth day in this hell, he seemed less jumpy.
When I grazed his foot walking past him on one of our brakes he did not
jump as he had done three days prior when Merry had done the same.
"Let us continue now, Gandalf. We are well rested,"
I said. The Company stood, somewhat too slow for my liking, and we continued
on. I remembered that Gandalf had said we were close to the city while
we were waiting for his choice on a slight problem we had come to face.
Of course, the old wizard had chosen correctly.
We past single file under a carving in Dwarvish;
a welcome to the city of the Dwarves. As we entered I heard behind me the
breath taken out of the hobbits behind me. No doubt to them the pillars
of the city must have seemed more height then to myself and our even taller
companions. With no emotion Gandalf continued to walk, his pace slightly
faster then it had been previously. As he walked far ahead I saw a light
from the corner of my eye. It was a tomb.
"Gimli!" I heard several voices call as I ran
to the room, crying out with grief. For off I heard the footsteps follow
me as I bowed my head and began to cry at the tomb of Balin. The others
silently approached behind me. There was silence about the room until I
heard Gandalf's voice reading aloud the inscription on the tomb. Balin
was dead and buried. My mind spun round and round as thought in never ending
cartwheels. I could not concentrate enough to notice Gandalf picking up
a book, in fact I did not pay any mind until he began to read it to us
all.
It was an account written in a hurried hand of
an attack by unidentified assailants. Just as soon as Gandalf had finished
there was uncommon silence, shattered by the sound of metal falling down
a well. Eight sets of eyes went to Pippin. The young hobbit stood beside
a large well with a terrified look on his face. Upon Gandalf finishing
his tirade of shouting there was silence. A dead silence. That is when
the drumbeats began.
To Be Continued...
Next Chapter: Gandalf
A/N: Thanks for the few reviews I've gotten. I know this
chapter is a little short, but the rest of the happenings in the mine belong
to Gandalf because he isn't in the story for very much longer.