Paths of Peril -- A Dynasty Broken Book II
By Adara
This is the second chapter where I heard a song in my head as I was writing it. Chapter 14 was titled after a Neil Diamond song, and this chapter carries the title of a Beatle's tune. If I can't have a little fun with my writing, why bother? To maintain the flavor of the book, I have used some of Tolkien's wording verbatim, some of it is paraphrased, and some is original. I am not making any money off of this, so I hope the professor's heirs don't mind.
The Long and Winding Road
The Fellowship had been on the road a fortnight. The four hobbits had been overly chatty at first, but as the days passed, they tired and wasted less energy talking. For this small favor, Boromir was extremely thankful. For the most part he kept to himself, wrapped within his worried thoughts about the Princess Eledwhen and their child. To the other members of the Fellowship he seemed morose and aloof. The future King of Gondor wisely kept conversation with the Steward's heir to a few, but necessary, words. Aragorn and Gandalf knew what haunted the man's thoughts and kept the matter to themselves.
"Tomorrow we will reach the Hollin Ridge," said Gandalf as he paused to peer at the landscape about them. The weather had taken a sudden change for the better. All nine members of the Fellowship heaved a collective sigh of relief as the wind fell and veered to the south, and the sun began to show as swift-flowing clouds lifted. It was certainly a welcome respite from the past two weeks, when they had been constantly chilled by icy blasts from the mountains in the east.
"Are we almost to Mordor, Gandalf?" Pippin asked hopefully.
The wizard scowled at the pesky hobbit before turning his gaze back to the land before them. "We shall travel throughout the night and rest in the morning. Do you agree, Aragorn?"
The Ranger had been standing silently beside Gandalf, chewing on his lower lip. Something was bothering him, but he was unable to put a name to it. He felt no threat from spies or foes, yet a growing sense of alarm was building within. Realizing that the wizard was looking at him expectantly, Aragorn grunted. Gandalf nodded, as though satisfied with this "answer," and began walking again. As he prepared to follow, Aragorn happened to glance at Boromir, who was smiling. The Gondorian obviously knew the Ranger had not been paying attention, and that Aragorn had used the same ruse that had served the Steward's heir well during long and boring Council meetings. Aragorn smiled thinly before making certain the hobbits were all accounted for. The little ones, as he had come to think of them, had a tendency to wander off alone or in pairs. More than once he had considered tying them all together and using the horse's lead rope to force them to remain with the rest of the Company. It definitely was going to be a long journey to the fires of Mount Doom.
By the end of the night's march the Company reached a low ridge crowned with ancient holly trees. The gray-green trunks seemed to have been built out of the very stone of the hills, the trees' dark leaves shone and their berries gleamed red in the light of the rising sun. The Fellowship had reached the borders of Hollin, some forty-five leagues (as the crow flies) from Rivendell. "I believe we shall camp here, and not just for today," said Gandalf. "We all could use an extra day of rest."
The members of the Fellowship flung their packs onto the ground and threw themselves upon them. For once the hobbits were too exhausted to eat and fell asleep as soon as their heads touched their bedrolls. Boromir walked to a large tree and sank down in front of it, resting his sore back against its stout trunk. He partially closed his eyes and watched the wizard and Aragorn as they stood together discussing something. I tire of their superior attitudes. They may know the lie of the land but I, too, possess a fair knowledge of woodcraft; yet they ignore me as though as I am not a member of this Fellowship.
"I sense that you are no more enamoured of our guides than am I," said Gimli as he shook out his bedroll. Boromir looked up at the dwarf.
"They seem to know where they are going," he said neutrally.
Gimli uttered a muted harrumph before gingerly lowering his bulk onto the bedroll. "I know where I would like them to go, but they say they know best as to which road we should take. I thought we were all in this together. Who died and made Aragorn king?"
Boromir gaped at the dwarf, a look of disbelief on his tired face. Had the dwarf really made that crack about Aragorn? What did he know about the two men's disagreements? Boromir started to question Gimli about the meaning behind his words, but the dwarf already was snoring. Perhaps I am not the only one who objects to the Ranger treating us all as children or, rather, hobbits. Taking another long, hard look at the sleeping dwarf, Boromir closed his eyes and soon fell into a restless slumber.
* * * * * * * * *
Boromir awakened two hours later. Something had disturbed his sleep. Sam and Aragorn were sitting beside the fire, presumably on watch. The Ranger had his head cocked slightly to one side as though listening to something. What is he listening to? This place is as silent as the tombs of Rath Dinen. Hastily Boromir rose to his feet as the meaning of what he had just thought sunk in. "Aragorn," he hissed.
Even as the Man of Gondor spoke, Aragorn grabbed Sam and hauled him into the shade of a holly bush. Boromir immediately joined them for he, too, had seen the birds. They were flying low and straight toward the ridge upon which they camped. The three did not stir until the sky was clear again, then Aragorn hurried to awaken Gandalf.
"Regiments of black crows are flying over the land between the mountains and the Greyflood," Aragorn said grimly. "They are not natives here; they are crebain out of Fangorn and Dunland. I think they are spying out the land. We should move again this evening; Hollin is no longer wholesome for us. It is being watched."
Gandalf nodded in agreement and Sam groaned. He had been looking forward to another day's rest and a hot meal. Strider's decision that there would be no more fires depressed him. It wasn't natural for a hobbit to live on so sparse a diet, with only cold rations at hand. "Get some sleep while you can, Sam. I shall stand the watch." The hobbit glowered at Strider before shuffling off to where Frodo lay sleeping. "My master needs a hot meal, he does," Sam muttered under his breath. Throwing one last heated look at Aragorn, he settled down for a much-needed nap.
Boromir did not feel like sleeping, so he joined the Ranger by the remains of the now extinguished fire. For several minutes the two remained silent. Aragorn finally broke the uncomfortable silence. "I sense you are angry or displeased with our decision to move on." Boromir gave him a scathing look.
"Our decision? Since when have I been included in any decisions? No one asks my opinion about anything. I might as well not even be here."
Aragorn looked at the other man thoughtfully. "Why did you decide to come with us instead of taking a horse and riding ahead to the Golden Wood?" Boromir looked uncomfortable. Finally he shrugged.
"I promised the Lady Arwen that I would look after you." He looked directly at Aragorn, a smile on his face.
The Ranger's jaw dropped and he groped to find words to fling back at the Gondorian. "I do not need to be looked after, and I do not believe that the Evenstar solicited your aid in keeping me alive. I have done well enough looking after myself for several decades!"
Boromir chuckled. "Believe what you will. The Lady Arwen is now my kin and, as my kinswoman, she asked me to help keep you safe. That I swore I would do. Otherwise, I would now be with my wife." The man's gaze became unfocused and he looked in the direction of Lothlorien.
"I am sorry. I should not have lost my temper. I hope you find that all is well when we reach Caras Galadhon." Aragorn placed one hand lightly upon the other's shoulder. Boromir did not withdraw from the touch, but seemed to welcome the comfort it offered. The two men remained companionably silent the rest of the watch.
* * * * * * * * *
Each member of the Fellowship was tired and dejected. They had attempted to cross the mountains via the Redhorn Gate. They were prepared for the cold; they were totally unprepared for the wrath of Caradhras. Even though it was the 11th of January, neither Aragorn nor Gandalf had been prepared for the unrelenting blizzard that nearly froze the hobbits to death. If not for the two doughty men, the entire Company might have been lost and the doom of Middle-earth sealed.
For once, Boromir's advice had been heeded and the Company had gathered faggots of wood for fire before attempting the pass. When they became buried by falling snow, Gandalf had still argued against the folly of openly giving away their location. However, once the choice became death or fire, the wizard reluctantly sparked the blaze and they survived. Now, as they huddled together discussing the next road to tread, Boromir got in one last lick.
"Any soldier knows that it is better to retreat and live to fight another day than to die needlessly in a battle that cannot be won." Boromir looked pointedly at the Ranger, who had argued vehemently that they continue to try the pass rather than go back down the mountain. If they had followed his advice, all would have died. Aragorn ducked his head and returned his attention to Gandalf, who was discussing their options.
"The road that I speak of leads to the Mines of Moria," Gandalf was saying.
Boromir was surprised to hear the wizard name the place. Even in Gondor they had heard terrible stories of ancient perils that walked the mines. He knew Aragorn and Mithrandir would veto anything he said, but Boromir believed he had to try to dissuade them.
"It is a name of ill omen. I see no need to go there. If we cannot cross the mountains, let us journey southward until we come to the Gap of Rohan, where men are friendly to my people. Or we might pass by and cross the Isen into Langstrand and Lebennin, and so come to Gondor from the regions nigh to the sea."
Gandalf shook his head wearily. "You are a member of the Fellowship and as long as you remain with the Ring-bearer, those roads are closed to you. The Gap of Rohan takes us too near Isengard. And as for the longer road… we cannot afford the time. I deem that we must take the path the enemy will least expect us to take. We must travel through the Mines of Moria."
Boromir shook his head in disbelief. "The name of Moria is black. We might as well knock on the gates of the Dark Tower as pass through the mines." Despite Boromir's protestations, Gandalf persevered and it was decided that the Fellowship would turn south once more. Boromir felt a perverse pleasure in Aragorn's obvious distress. The Ranger also had tried to change Gandalf's mind, with equal success. At last, something about which we both agree. I hope it is not the last thing we will have the opportunity to agree on. Boromir slung his heavy shield upon his back and took the rear-guard position.
* * * * * * * * *
Gandalf was staring at the side of the cliffs and muttering to himself. Aragorn was pulling the packs off their pony, Bill, who was about to become orc fodder, in Boromir's opinion. Of course he knew they could not force the animal to enter the mines, but neither did he relish turning Bill loose to become some orc party's next meal. The man was seated with his back resting against one of the bare cliffs abutting the entrance to Moria, (wherever that might be) waiting for the wizard to speak the secret, magic words that would open the door to the mines. Boromir was irritated because the dwarf had no clue as to where the entrance was. Gimli was wandering about, tapping the stone here and there with his axe, and wasting precious time. The weather conditions also seemed to conspire against them, for the air was bitterly cold.
Boromir looked to where Gandalf stood. The wizard was staring at the blank cliff wall and muttering incantations, or something equally mysterious. Boromir sighed and turned to look at the water in the lake. It had an unwholesome look that made the skin at the nape of his neck crawl. I should have taken Elrond's offer to lend me one of his horses. I'd be in Lothlorien, warm in a bed with Eledwhen, not freezing my arse off with beings that talk to walls. Boromir turned his head in the direction of the water and caught a glimpse of Legolas. The Elf was pressed against the rock, eyes shut, as though listening. That one looks as if he expects the rock to talk to him. The Valar preserve us, for if the survival of Middle-earth resides in the hands of my companions, all is lost.
At that moment, Gandalf gave a cry of surprise. Boromir stood up and walked over to join the others in front of the blank wall. At least, it had been a blank wall. Now he could see faint lines, like slender veins of silver, running in the stone. The pale, gossamer threads grew broader and clearer, until their design could be guessed. Boromir did not listen to most of the conversation that followed, but kept his eyes and thoughts upon the stagnant pool. Something is watching us. Boromir involuntarily shuddered and again became aware of the others. Gimli and Legolas were arguing. Nothing unusual there, so he tuned out most of the spat. Their bitter repartee had been going on non-stop since their departure from Imladris. However, he couldn't help but tune in the conversation when Gimli loudly admitted that he did not know the word that would open the door.
"The words that open the door are Elvish," taunted Gimli. "You are an Elf, why do you not know the password?" Legolas looked as though he could gladly gut the obnoxious dwarf.
Boromir moved closer to Gandalf and asked the one question on everyone's mind: "But do not you know the word, Gandalf?"
"No! I do not." The Man of Gondor stared at the wizard in disbelief.
"Then what was the use of bringing us to this accursed spot? You told us that you once passed through the Mines. How could that be, if you did not know how to enter?" Boromir was struggling to keep himself from throttling the old wizard.
"The answer is, I do not know the answer -- yet. Patience is a virtue, one the Steward should have taught you by now. Have you entirely lost your wits? I did not enter this way; I came from the East." Looking at the dismayed faces turned toward him, Gandalf's countenance softened and he said more gently, "I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves or men or orcs that was ever used for such a purpose. The opening words were Elvish, like the writing on the arch."
"What does it say, Gandalf?" Frodo was looking at the door with a perplexed look on his tired face.
"It says 'Speak, Friend, and Enter.' But what the password is I do not know."
Boromir turned away from the Company and walked to the edge of the foul pool. He heard Gandalf "speaking" to the cliff wall in many different tongues. Have I lost my wits, indeed. Boromir was becoming agitated and restless. Time was wasting and he had to get to Eledwhen. What if she had lost the child? What if she had died as well? To help alleviate his mounting frustration, Boromir picked up a large stone and cast it far into the dark water. The stone made a loud splash in the silence, and the others quickly turned to see what had caused the noise. Boromir noticed that where the stone had vanished, great rippling rings were forming on the surface and moving slowly to the foot of the cliff.
Aragorn moved to Boromir's side and angrily grabbed hold of his arm. "Do not disturb the water. The Dark Lord's spies are everywhere." Boromir jerked his arm from the other's grip and placed his hand upon the hilt of his sword. In response to the wordless threat, Aragorn rested his hand upon his sword hilt. Both men glared angrily at the other until Pippin cried out.
"Why doesn't Gandalf do something quick? I want to get away from here!" He fearfully eyed the water in the pool, which was becoming increasingly agitated. At that moment, the wizard began laughing.
"It's a riddle. I should have translated it, 'Speak Friend, and Enter.' All I have to do is say the word 'Friend' and the doors will open." He raised his staff, stood before the cliff face, and in a clear voice said, "Mellon." Silently a great door was outlined; it slowly divided in the middle and swung outward until both doors lay back against the wall. A loud sigh escaped Pippin's lips.
Boromir bent to pick up his shield; Gandalf began to enter Moria. Both froze when Frodo let out a loud cry. Boromir whirled about and saw what looked like a long tentacle wrapping itself about the Ring-bearer's ankle. In a single fluid motion, Gondor's Captain-General unsheathed his great sword with one hand while pushing Merry and Pippin backward with the other. Sam had run to help his master.
The next few minutes were the stuff of which nightmares are made. The creature began dragging Frodo toward the water, while Sam frantically hacked at the tentacle with his knife. The arm suddenly let go of Frodo and Sam pulled him away, crying out for help as he did so. Twenty other arms slithered from the pool, all moving toward the Ring-bearer; the water boiled and there was a horrible stench. Boromir rushed forward and placed himself between the two hobbits and the nightmarish creature. Several of the slimy tentacles reached for Boromir and he hacked at them with his sword. Gandalf then grabbed the hobbits and began herding them into the mine; Legolas began firing arrows at lightening speed and the dwarf finally stepped to the water's edge. He swung his axe in a wide arc, and blood and tentacles rained down upon those closest to the pool.
Gandalf had finally succeeded in getting the hobbits into the mine's entrance; turning back toward those fighting, he shouted: "Into the gateway! Up the stairs! Quickly!" Gimli and the Elf began to fall back. Aragorn, who had entered the fray only moments earlier, took one last swipe at a persistent tentacle and began to withdraw. But Boromir seemed rooted to the spot. He continued to fight mindlessly, slicing the arms off the watcher in the water. Aragorn took hold of Boromir's sword arm and yanked it backward, shouting as he did so. "It is time to go! The hobbits are safe. Come on!"
Boromir shook his head to clear the stinging sweat from his eyes and saw that, indeed, the Halflings were out of harm's way. He began to move backward, not daring to take his eyes off his adversary. However, before Boromir could retreat to the relative safety of the mines, the tentacles seethed forward again. Aragorn shoved the other man toward the yawning doorway. "I said it is time to go!" he shouted. As the two men began to climb the stairs within the mine, the groping tentacles writhed across the narrow shore and fingered the cliff wall and the doors. Before anyone could think what to do, many tentacles seized the doors on either side and, with horrible strength, swung them round. The doors slammed shut and all light was lost. Standing blind at the foot of the stairs, they heard a noise of rending and crashing.
"We now have but one choice," said Gandalf grimly. "We must face the long dark of Moria."
To be continued