Chapter 18 Final Flight


The faint rumbling and vibration through the soles of their feet awoke Nain from his mesmerised state. "Grab the Elf!" He shouted, breaking the others free. "Somebody find more torches, before that one on the floor fails. That is a cave-in in on level 9. We've got to get out of here!"

Two Dwarves dutifully grabbed Othmiel and unceremoniously dragged her towards the entrance, whilst Nain began pushing the still dazed Hobbits back.

Around them the frozen walls began to crack as the ice that had encrusted them thawed. A small pebble landed upon Farrimer's crown and he risked a look upwards to watch as a crack tracked a pattern immediately above his head. Suitably alarmed, he darted forward, just in time to avoid the rock that crashed to the floor at his heels.

Tom was less fortunate, a rock catching him on the side of his head. He was grabbed by both Bilbo and Sam as he fell.

As they ran, they were pursued by the rumble of more falling stone as frozen walls thawed and expanded. They were brought up short by the still closed entrance.

Without a word the Dwarves dropped their loads and started to hammer at hidden mechanisms, to no avail. They were thrown to the ground by the concussive shock of a huge tremor. In desperation they grasped at the rocky floor as it twisted and heaved under them. Above all the commotion there was tortured groans and creaks as yet more rock and debris cascaded upon the heroes.

After what seemed like an eternity the shaking faded enough for a tentative Farrimer to look up from his huddle. Where the huge stone door had stood, proud and defiant against the dwarves attack it now hung drunkenly, still supported by a single hinge, a triangular shaft of daylight filtering through the falling mist of dust.

"The door! It's down!" He cried in relief, scrabbling to his feet and darting forwards for a better look.

Nain eyed the twisted door with professional suspicion. It wobbled alarmingly as small tremors continued to rattle small rocks down around them. "Get through quickly," he demanded. "It'll come down around our ears in a minute. Then nobody gets out!"


They emerged one by one, blinking hard in the strong midday sun and looked around for any signs of the remaining Dwarf party. It looked as if they were alone in the small valley.

Two small arrows plunked firmly into the grass at Tom's feet, making them start in alarm, as a high pitched voice screamed, "Return to your cave, foul things!"

As if to make the point a third arrow cracked into the rocky door behind them, promoting a new groan from before with a final crash it collapsed, sealing the hole they had passed through.

"I know's that voice!" Bilbo hissed in irritation, sitting Sam on the ground.

"Ah! That be we do!" Tom growled in agreement, before piping up. "A fine thing it is, Butterbur Two-Farthing when Hobbits finds 'em selves being shot at an' without a plate of sumat in welcome. You be cummin' down here with it, right now. Or I'll box your ears!"

At the lip of the valley Dwarves and Hobbits appeared, many bearing bows with which they covered the small party threateningly. In the centre another scampered down, looking more shame faced.

"You look like stones, Master Gamgee," he gabbled, "an' the Dwarves said watch for walking stones!"

As if for the first time, Dwarves and Hobbits looked at each others dust encrusted bodies, then burst into laughter. "He is right," Farrimer spluttered, wiping at his face with the sleeve of his jacket to leave a smeared but more natural Hobbit countenance. "We are as stonelike as the Warg. Amazing we didn't kill each other in there! Now how about some food, Butterbur, and something to wash our faces with, then perhaps some pipes and pipeweed. If you are sure we aren't stones?"

"Hobbits make difficult targets," Nain assured him as Butterbur scampered away. "How is the Lady Othmiel, Master Samwise?"

"Weak," Sam opined of the pasty white Elven girl who lay beside him.


No meal involving Hobbits is ever sombre. With the small band of Hobbit archers that Butterbur had brought up from Hobbiton eager for answers to their questions and just as eager to supply their own, it was a rowdy affair. Even so Sam, Tom, Bilbo and Farrimer slowly slipped out of the question and answering session to sit beside the still sleeping Elf to be lost to their own thoughts until she awoke.

"The moon is beautiful, is it not?" She challenged as she awoke, sitting bolt upright with a start.

Startled, Sam agreed. "'Appen!"

"And the grass so fine and beautiful?" She continued in agitated rambling, waving an expansive arm to indicate imaginary things, totally heedless to the bemused looks of those around her "and the gay tinkling of the brook."

Sam gripped her her arm tightly, whispering urgently. "My Lady Othmiel!"

Slowly Othmiel subsided and lay back. "It is over!" she said simply. "She is dead."


Othmiel, though still pale and drawn, was more communicative the following morning, sitting with the Hobbits, she accepted food and drink and answered the questions from Hobbit and Dwarf as they appeared.

"That was Valtar, a young slip of an Elf girl?" Nain demanded.

"She was an Elf once," Othmiel admitted. "The most beautiful and fairest of our race, but wicked. All who saw her were overcome and served her. Until she was imprisoned. Even then we were swayed and did nothing except hide her."

"And all it took was a song?" Sam asked uncertainly.

"The song," she responded. "There was no great magic chant in that, not as Dwarves might remember, or as held in your light. It was a lullaby that Elven mothers teach their daughters. It reminds us of the beauty of grass, trees and the world of light," she smiled wistfully. "She remembered too. It broke her heart so she reformed to steal mine. It was greed that smote her down."

She was silent for a moment before starting more strongly. "As for your mine, Nain Talonnose of the Dwarves. I do not think even Dwarves can reopen it." She pointed toward the crushed ruins of the door. "The walls that were so solid are ruined, anything left will be dangerous even to master miners as yourselves."

"Ha!" Nain scoffed. "Dwarves can work anywhere, Elf. There was little left in that mine of value, but there are others. We will open one of those!"

He turned as if to take his leave, then asked more slowly. "Are there anymore Elves and Elvish accidents waiting for us to find?"

Othmiel laughed. "There are always Elves, Nain of the Dwarves, Elf Friend. Rest assured they are there for your protection. But I know not if there are other dark things in your forgotten mines!"

"Ha!" Nain repeated. "We will see what we find."

"My time in this land is at an end. I must return to the Havens."

"Aye, well. I don't think you be able to go that far on your own. 'Appen it would be better to come with us, 'til you are stronger," Sam observed. "It will be good to hear the gay folks singing again."

Othmiel laughed. "Still my protector, Master Samwise Gamgee? But perhaps it would be for the best, the Shire is well kept and innocent. It would be pleasant to see and place some tales of Frodo."

Thus the gathering split. Othmiel travelled South with the Hobbits. The Dwarves, under the lead of Nain Tallonnose, headed North and East.