Disclaimer: AU Story. 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!
I wanted to answer all of my reviews in one big go today because they were all just so so lovely! Thank you everyone reading this. I know there have been loads of mistakes (much appreciation, shirebound) and I am terribly sorry. I am a Tolkien fan and unfortunately not an expert. I know that there are quite a few people who have been reeled up in the Lost in Moria story and I'm so glad that it has left a good impression. I want to keep my readers on the edge from start to finish and leave them feeling contented afterwards. I had to put updating to the minimum for a while because- as shirebound pointed out- "make sure you have everything accurate before posting." It is true and my mistakes do kinda ruin the story. But I will have to run on with some of them to make it work. Example: Merry and Pippin's rope. I am reading the book a second time so if another story relating to LOTR arises again, it will be a lot better. And, for now, I think it's alright. There are hundreds of questions that will need to be answered afterwards but for now I am just going to enjoy writing it and deal with consequences and corrections when all is said and done. As promised, here is what happens to poor Frodo ..
~ Chapter Eleven ~
Frodo felt his whole back arch up and a silent scream escaped his mouth. He was gasping for breath. There was no air in his lungs and his insides churned. He thought he was going to be sick. Balin drew out his sword. Frodo drew himself into a tight ball and curled up. The pain decreased a little but he was still winded. 'I wonder if Sam will ever get the hedge under my window trimmed.' he wondered. The oddest things went through your head in times of dire peril. He rolled himself away from Balin and put his back to the wall. The dwarf was staring at him in shock. The blade was clean! As bright as fire. He watched in fascination as the hobbit drew himself up on legs of water, one hand to the wall and one on his chest.
"Why are you not dead?" Balin roared, shaking Sting menacingly at his throat, "You should be breathing your last! Are you a dæmon of some kind?"
Frodo swallowed but could still not manage enough breath to reply. He could only look on in terror as the dwarf came towards him in a rage.
"Is this some of Bilbo's magic? Him and that ring of his? The Ring's work! Where is it? Give it to me!"
"I don't- I-" Frodo choked but Balin was upon him, tearing at his neck, driving heavy fists into his head.
"The Ring! Give it to me!"
He stopped, crouched over Frodo's trembling figure. He reached out slowly to finger the corner of the mithril shirt. Then with a burst of strength and speed that was unexpected from such a wizened old dwarf, he lifted Frodo into the air.
"I will kill you some way. If not by blades then by another method. My orcs will see you dead! And my name will be ever-glorious!"
Frodo saw the madness overcome his captor. It was a strange, familiar sort of madness. That many before him had fallen to. 'The Ring is close' he realised. Then he was being dragged again across to the stone shelf. Balin lifted aside a heavy ingot of mithril to reveal three glass pitchers.
"The last drink on this earth for you will be that of the shadows themselves. Belladonna will burn your mouth, get into your skin. It will burn you to your very bones. Let the orcs see you die. Your life or mine, Frodo Baggins. And I will not sacrifice myself for you, Bilbo or anyone! I've seen what it does. I've seen the effects of Belladonna. The orcs punished for the assassination of the last chief were dead within the hour! Cold as stone. Your eyes will be the blue of ice and your hair the dark of the next world."
With that, Balin grabbed the ewer and, forcing Frodo's head back, poured the contents down his throat. His face was rock-hard. This was no longer Balin. Not the real Balin. The hero who had led the dwarves to Moria and carved out silver from the earth. The brave dwarf who fought alongside his own people to defend their property. This was a deformed version of him. Almost an orc himself, serving the enemy and remembering nothing else. And Frodo felt pity overwhelm the fear and anger inside him. Then Balin dropped him to the floor as the door crashed open- wood splinters spinning out into the walls. Frodo felt his hearing and sight dull. Everything became dim and the sound deadened as if under many layers of snow.
Legolas threw himself through into the chamber. He expected to be hurled upon by guards and soldiers but there was nothing. Only an old sickly looking dwarf standing over Frodo. Frodo looked half-asleep.
"Stay still. Do not move or your orc here will not breathe again," the elf ordained, holding forth the concussed figure of Revtaz. Balin scowled and let Frodo fall to the floor.
"Who are you? What are you doing?"
But he did stay still. Legolas moved across to him, flinging his burden to one side. He levelled a sword at the dwarf and said in threatening tones,
"Move aside."
"An elf. Hah! An elf has come to rescue him? You might as well have sent a piece of flint- it would have had far more cunning," Balin growled. His attacker let this pass and only placed his blade closer.
"Let Frodo go."
The dwarf smirked. He stepped out of the way to reveal the slumped body on the ground and dipped his head to Legolas.
"I suppose that your mind is made up then? Well, you will have to run with him. You won't have long to get out, will you?"
Legolas saw him eye the sword with a twinge of fear before turning away. The elf lunged down and scooped Frodo up in his arms. Then, with a confused glance at Balin, he ran from the chamber.
"Have you got It here?" a voice croaked from in his arms. Legolas nodded.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"I'm- I'm fine. Put me down- I will only slow you down. I am fine."
Grudgingly, Legolas set him down. Frodo did not falter but spurned ahead.
"The dwarf was right," he cried, "We don't have much time."
Together they ran through the endless passageways. Frodo fell behind but Legolas was not surprised at this. Orcs began to appear at the corridor and slowly- as it arrived in their brains that these runners were not orcs- began to give chase. They reached the door quicker than either of them would ever have believed. Both elf and hobbit spun to face it and flung it open. They rushed through and slammed it behind them.
"The bar," Frodo gasped. Legolas saw the beam held up to one side and brought it down hard across the door. It was still for a moment then started to shudder from forces behind it. The pair of them backed away then turned around and ran.
Frodo could feel his head beginning to spin. His whole world was being shaken into particles. His mouth was dry and he kept swallowing to try and wet his burning throat. He felt hot tears come to his eyes at the memory of Balin's frightening words. 'I've seen what it does... Cold as stone.' He shuddered. But he had to choice. And he had to return to the Fellowship. Before the poison completed its work, he wanted to see them all. One last time.
I wanted to answer all of my reviews in one big go today because they were all just so so lovely! Thank you everyone reading this. I know there have been loads of mistakes (much appreciation, shirebound) and I am terribly sorry. I am a Tolkien fan and unfortunately not an expert. I know that there are quite a few people who have been reeled up in the Lost in Moria story and I'm so glad that it has left a good impression. I want to keep my readers on the edge from start to finish and leave them feeling contented afterwards. I had to put updating to the minimum for a while because- as shirebound pointed out- "make sure you have everything accurate before posting." It is true and my mistakes do kinda ruin the story. But I will have to run on with some of them to make it work. Example: Merry and Pippin's rope. I am reading the book a second time so if another story relating to LOTR arises again, it will be a lot better. And, for now, I think it's alright. There are hundreds of questions that will need to be answered afterwards but for now I am just going to enjoy writing it and deal with consequences and corrections when all is said and done. As promised, here is what happens to poor Frodo ..
~ Chapter Eleven ~
Frodo felt his whole back arch up and a silent scream escaped his mouth. He was gasping for breath. There was no air in his lungs and his insides churned. He thought he was going to be sick. Balin drew out his sword. Frodo drew himself into a tight ball and curled up. The pain decreased a little but he was still winded. 'I wonder if Sam will ever get the hedge under my window trimmed.' he wondered. The oddest things went through your head in times of dire peril. He rolled himself away from Balin and put his back to the wall. The dwarf was staring at him in shock. The blade was clean! As bright as fire. He watched in fascination as the hobbit drew himself up on legs of water, one hand to the wall and one on his chest.
"Why are you not dead?" Balin roared, shaking Sting menacingly at his throat, "You should be breathing your last! Are you a dæmon of some kind?"
Frodo swallowed but could still not manage enough breath to reply. He could only look on in terror as the dwarf came towards him in a rage.
"Is this some of Bilbo's magic? Him and that ring of his? The Ring's work! Where is it? Give it to me!"
"I don't- I-" Frodo choked but Balin was upon him, tearing at his neck, driving heavy fists into his head.
"The Ring! Give it to me!"
He stopped, crouched over Frodo's trembling figure. He reached out slowly to finger the corner of the mithril shirt. Then with a burst of strength and speed that was unexpected from such a wizened old dwarf, he lifted Frodo into the air.
"I will kill you some way. If not by blades then by another method. My orcs will see you dead! And my name will be ever-glorious!"
Frodo saw the madness overcome his captor. It was a strange, familiar sort of madness. That many before him had fallen to. 'The Ring is close' he realised. Then he was being dragged again across to the stone shelf. Balin lifted aside a heavy ingot of mithril to reveal three glass pitchers.
"The last drink on this earth for you will be that of the shadows themselves. Belladonna will burn your mouth, get into your skin. It will burn you to your very bones. Let the orcs see you die. Your life or mine, Frodo Baggins. And I will not sacrifice myself for you, Bilbo or anyone! I've seen what it does. I've seen the effects of Belladonna. The orcs punished for the assassination of the last chief were dead within the hour! Cold as stone. Your eyes will be the blue of ice and your hair the dark of the next world."
With that, Balin grabbed the ewer and, forcing Frodo's head back, poured the contents down his throat. His face was rock-hard. This was no longer Balin. Not the real Balin. The hero who had led the dwarves to Moria and carved out silver from the earth. The brave dwarf who fought alongside his own people to defend their property. This was a deformed version of him. Almost an orc himself, serving the enemy and remembering nothing else. And Frodo felt pity overwhelm the fear and anger inside him. Then Balin dropped him to the floor as the door crashed open- wood splinters spinning out into the walls. Frodo felt his hearing and sight dull. Everything became dim and the sound deadened as if under many layers of snow.
Legolas threw himself through into the chamber. He expected to be hurled upon by guards and soldiers but there was nothing. Only an old sickly looking dwarf standing over Frodo. Frodo looked half-asleep.
"Stay still. Do not move or your orc here will not breathe again," the elf ordained, holding forth the concussed figure of Revtaz. Balin scowled and let Frodo fall to the floor.
"Who are you? What are you doing?"
But he did stay still. Legolas moved across to him, flinging his burden to one side. He levelled a sword at the dwarf and said in threatening tones,
"Move aside."
"An elf. Hah! An elf has come to rescue him? You might as well have sent a piece of flint- it would have had far more cunning," Balin growled. His attacker let this pass and only placed his blade closer.
"Let Frodo go."
The dwarf smirked. He stepped out of the way to reveal the slumped body on the ground and dipped his head to Legolas.
"I suppose that your mind is made up then? Well, you will have to run with him. You won't have long to get out, will you?"
Legolas saw him eye the sword with a twinge of fear before turning away. The elf lunged down and scooped Frodo up in his arms. Then, with a confused glance at Balin, he ran from the chamber.
"Have you got It here?" a voice croaked from in his arms. Legolas nodded.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"I'm- I'm fine. Put me down- I will only slow you down. I am fine."
Grudgingly, Legolas set him down. Frodo did not falter but spurned ahead.
"The dwarf was right," he cried, "We don't have much time."
Together they ran through the endless passageways. Frodo fell behind but Legolas was not surprised at this. Orcs began to appear at the corridor and slowly- as it arrived in their brains that these runners were not orcs- began to give chase. They reached the door quicker than either of them would ever have believed. Both elf and hobbit spun to face it and flung it open. They rushed through and slammed it behind them.
"The bar," Frodo gasped. Legolas saw the beam held up to one side and brought it down hard across the door. It was still for a moment then started to shudder from forces behind it. The pair of them backed away then turned around and ran.
Frodo could feel his head beginning to spin. His whole world was being shaken into particles. His mouth was dry and he kept swallowing to try and wet his burning throat. He felt hot tears come to his eyes at the memory of Balin's frightening words. 'I've seen what it does... Cold as stone.' He shuddered. But he had to choice. And he had to return to the Fellowship. Before the poison completed its work, he wanted to see them all. One last time.