Disclaimer: Why don't I own Lord of the Rings? *sigh* Well, until maybe the
Tolkien family takes pity on me, I do not own any of the characters or
places mentioned in this story. Please don't sue me! I know I am cruel to
them but I swear I will try to save them. Hope you enjoy!
barmy-the-elf: I'm writing as quickly as possible! I am so glad you like this. Rynn: I also love stories about Moria. It never occurred to me to write one before. Thanks for the comments- much appreciated! Rosie: Thank you! I am definitely going to keep writing this story
~ Chapter Two ~
In the gloom of the cavern, it struck Frodo that so far, they had not seen a soul on their journey so far. And yet why had Gimli been so certain that there were dwarves here? Why did he speak of great welcoming, huge banquets and feasts, singing, dancing? Why all that? The place was as cold as the grave. Bodies strewing the corridors- some of orcs but most of dwarves. It was clear that they had not dug deep before they had been attacked.
There was a sudden rustling. Legolas and Frodo looked up. A clatter of metal and then hurried slapping footsteps pattering away. Gollum had been close. Too close for comfort. Legolas notched an arrow to his bow and pulled back. Slowly, he got up from the rock, arrow pointing into the darkness.
"Come," he hissed to Frodo, "This time, we may catch him."
The hobbit nodded. Both of them began to creep along the centre passageway and the shadows spilled over their heads. There was a hissing somewhere in the gloom. More footsteps slapping along the stony corridor. Legolas dragged the string back to his ear. Frodo squinted ahead to see if he could make out anything. There was a small formation at the right side. At first, he thought it was a rock but then, the clump opened two huge yellow eyes.
"Legolas! There!" he cried. The elf span around to face Gollum. There was a snap and Frodo guessed that he had released the arrow. But it never came. Gollum was staring at Legolas- or where he had just been. Frodo gasped in horror at the sight of the hole that had swallowed his companion up. He knelt at one side and peered down. He tried calling out but to little avail.
"My precious!"
Gollum flung himself on Frodo from behind, toppling him forward onto his hands and knees. The creature rolled his over, pinning his limbs to the floor.
"Tried to make nasty elves kill us. Elves with nasty bright eyes. Nasty hobbit Baggins will pay, precious, nasty hobbit trying to kill poor Smeagol. No one come to save little hobbit. So he dies, my precious, dies!"
Frodo struggled furiously against Gollum's restraining hands. He freed one arm and lashed out. He felt the pressure wane and he scrambled to his feet. Without thinking, he ran further down the passageway, running and never looking back. In his mind he could hear voices following him. 'Precious.. Precious..'
"No!" he sobbed. He heard footsteps start to give chase but they did not last for long. He dived to the right and huddled between two stone statues. It was unbearably cold away from the warmth of the Gandalf's staff's light. He wrapped his cloak tightly about him and listened for Gollum. After a long long wait he heard some loping slaps. They drew slowly up the passage and Frodo could hear his heavy breathing.
"Where is it?" Gollum breathed, "Where is the nasty hobbit hiding? We'll find it, precious. Yes, he's here somewhere.."
Then the footsteps moved away. Frodo hesitated then sat up stiffly, back to the wall. He waited until there was not even the smallest echo of sound. Then he darted out and began sprinting back to the camp. A box of light appeared in the distance. He moved faster, grabbing at it, trying to get back. He would have to wake the others and go down to find Legolas. How afraid he must be, thought Frodo, If elves even become frightened. This notion scared him even more. What must it be like to be in a place of fear and yet feel none?
Just for one lingering second, Frodo forgot about the hole. Like an open mouth just waiting for unwary prey to fall into its jaws. Just for one moment he forgot and he did not kick off from the ground to get clear of it. Frodo plunged headfirst into the abyss. Black shadows rushed up to greet him and he felt rocks digging into his hands. He could feel rubble gushing past him in a torrent of stone, wood and mithril silver. Head over heels, Frodo hurtled down the shaft, slamming off unseen outcrops of granite. Colours flashed before his eyes as his head connected with a large boulder. He moaned, reaching out to the walls, trying to make them stop rushing past. Pain seeped through his body like ice.
"Legolas!" he screamed into the storm but a heap of debris smashed into his face before his could say more. Frodo was hurled against the far side like a piece of sacking and when the tunnel ended, he flopped onto the stone slab as good as dead.
barmy-the-elf: I'm writing as quickly as possible! I am so glad you like this. Rynn: I also love stories about Moria. It never occurred to me to write one before. Thanks for the comments- much appreciated! Rosie: Thank you! I am definitely going to keep writing this story
~ Chapter Two ~
In the gloom of the cavern, it struck Frodo that so far, they had not seen a soul on their journey so far. And yet why had Gimli been so certain that there were dwarves here? Why did he speak of great welcoming, huge banquets and feasts, singing, dancing? Why all that? The place was as cold as the grave. Bodies strewing the corridors- some of orcs but most of dwarves. It was clear that they had not dug deep before they had been attacked.
There was a sudden rustling. Legolas and Frodo looked up. A clatter of metal and then hurried slapping footsteps pattering away. Gollum had been close. Too close for comfort. Legolas notched an arrow to his bow and pulled back. Slowly, he got up from the rock, arrow pointing into the darkness.
"Come," he hissed to Frodo, "This time, we may catch him."
The hobbit nodded. Both of them began to creep along the centre passageway and the shadows spilled over their heads. There was a hissing somewhere in the gloom. More footsteps slapping along the stony corridor. Legolas dragged the string back to his ear. Frodo squinted ahead to see if he could make out anything. There was a small formation at the right side. At first, he thought it was a rock but then, the clump opened two huge yellow eyes.
"Legolas! There!" he cried. The elf span around to face Gollum. There was a snap and Frodo guessed that he had released the arrow. But it never came. Gollum was staring at Legolas- or where he had just been. Frodo gasped in horror at the sight of the hole that had swallowed his companion up. He knelt at one side and peered down. He tried calling out but to little avail.
"My precious!"
Gollum flung himself on Frodo from behind, toppling him forward onto his hands and knees. The creature rolled his over, pinning his limbs to the floor.
"Tried to make nasty elves kill us. Elves with nasty bright eyes. Nasty hobbit Baggins will pay, precious, nasty hobbit trying to kill poor Smeagol. No one come to save little hobbit. So he dies, my precious, dies!"
Frodo struggled furiously against Gollum's restraining hands. He freed one arm and lashed out. He felt the pressure wane and he scrambled to his feet. Without thinking, he ran further down the passageway, running and never looking back. In his mind he could hear voices following him. 'Precious.. Precious..'
"No!" he sobbed. He heard footsteps start to give chase but they did not last for long. He dived to the right and huddled between two stone statues. It was unbearably cold away from the warmth of the Gandalf's staff's light. He wrapped his cloak tightly about him and listened for Gollum. After a long long wait he heard some loping slaps. They drew slowly up the passage and Frodo could hear his heavy breathing.
"Where is it?" Gollum breathed, "Where is the nasty hobbit hiding? We'll find it, precious. Yes, he's here somewhere.."
Then the footsteps moved away. Frodo hesitated then sat up stiffly, back to the wall. He waited until there was not even the smallest echo of sound. Then he darted out and began sprinting back to the camp. A box of light appeared in the distance. He moved faster, grabbing at it, trying to get back. He would have to wake the others and go down to find Legolas. How afraid he must be, thought Frodo, If elves even become frightened. This notion scared him even more. What must it be like to be in a place of fear and yet feel none?
Just for one lingering second, Frodo forgot about the hole. Like an open mouth just waiting for unwary prey to fall into its jaws. Just for one moment he forgot and he did not kick off from the ground to get clear of it. Frodo plunged headfirst into the abyss. Black shadows rushed up to greet him and he felt rocks digging into his hands. He could feel rubble gushing past him in a torrent of stone, wood and mithril silver. Head over heels, Frodo hurtled down the shaft, slamming off unseen outcrops of granite. Colours flashed before his eyes as his head connected with a large boulder. He moaned, reaching out to the walls, trying to make them stop rushing past. Pain seeped through his body like ice.
"Legolas!" he screamed into the storm but a heap of debris smashed into his face before his could say more. Frodo was hurled against the far side like a piece of sacking and when the tunnel ended, he flopped onto the stone slab as good as dead.