It's my style when writing these kinds of fics to stick to the main story as much as possible. This is why, as you're probably noticed (cuz I'm a crappier writer than Tolkien), much and most of the important points in the plot are quoted directly from the book. I'm trying to make these few and far between, so please bear with me!
Thank you all for the reviews. I just can't answer your questions now – it gives away waaaaaaaay too much!
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Without warning, a sickly-green tentacle erupted from the depths of the murky water and seized Frodo by the ankle, and began to drag him with great strength down to the slimy edge of the water. Frodo cried out in surprise and horror as he fell hard to the ground, scrabbling helplessly amongst the gravel for a handhold.
"Sam!" He cried.
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Bill the pony gave a terrified neigh and galloped wildly along the lakeside, his eyes wide and frantic with fear. Sam at once sprang after his beloved pony, but halted at his master's cry. Torn between two loves, he swayed in undecided limbo, aware that if he tarried longer precious time would be lost either way. At last he ran weeping and cursing to the aid of his master, hacking with his short sword at the twisting tentacle. The water of the lake boiled as some great movement disturbed deeper waters and stirred silt to further pollute the surface. The severed arm released Frodo, and Sam tried to pull him away from the treacherous shore, calling for help; but all were frozen in horror. At once the black waters erupted with more tentacles, all reaching, writhing and twisting out towards Frodo, Sam and the Company. Gandalf's cry woke them all from the dismayed stupor that had grasped the Company:
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"Into the gateway! Up the stairs! Quick!" He shouted.
Not a moment too soon were Frodo and Sam on the threshold of Moria before the arms were entwining themselves around the ancient doors. Gandalf turned to search quickly for a word to close the doors, but the arms swung the heavy doors shut with tremendous strength and the Company was thrown into darkness. The sound of heavy stone upon stone thudded dully through the thick stone doors, and in the pitch black they could guess that they were sealed in: trapped.
Legolas felt a tightening in his heart as he thought of the journey through the long, torturous path in oppressive night-dark of Moria. No, it was not even the dark of night. Night often has at least the light of stars or moon – there were no stars in this forsaken pit of the dwarves. What cruel twist of fate had brought him here?
"Well, well!" Said Gandalf with resigned acceptance "The passage is blocked now and there is only one way out – on the other side of the mountains. I fear from the sounds that boulders have been piled up, and the trees uprooted and thrown across the gate. I am sorry; for the trees were beautiful and had stood there so long."
"I felt that something horrible was near from the moment that my foot first touched the water." Said Frodo.
"As did I." Said Kienariel in a shaky voice. Legolas did not blame her, he was unnerved herself. He wished he could see Boromir, he was sure the Man was doubtful of her hardiness, and for some reason Legolas was indignant.
"What did you feel?" Gandalf asked her quietly. From the shuffling sounds, it seemed that the wizard had stepped closer to her.
"Something a-alive. Monstrous, but the feeling was…. distant." She stammered, aware that she was the centre of attention. The darkness pressed closer in the silence that followed her short statement.
"What was the thing, or were there many of them?" Frodo asked, as if directing the question to the Company, although it was obvious that few could answer.
"A single mind directed the arms." Kienariel said simply, still taking short nervous breaths.
"I do not know," Answered Gandalf, "But the arms were at least all guided by one purpose. Something has crept, or has been driven out of dark waters under the mountains. There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world." He did not speak aloud his thought on whatever it was that dwelt in the lake, nor did Kienariel, but Gandalf felt it boded ill that whatever it was that made its home in the lake, it had marked out Frodo first among all the Company.
Boromir muttered under his breath, but the echoing stone magnified the sound to a hoarse whisper that all could hear: "In the deep places of the world! And thither are we going against my wish."
"Oh dear, oh dear." Said Sam.
"Quite what I was thinking." Said Pippin miserably.
"Whatever our feelings, we have no choice now but to go on." Aragorn said calmly.
"You are right, Aragorn." Said Gandalf. "We should start at once. I shall lead, and Gimli shall walk with me. Follow my staff!" Gandalf held his staff aloft and from its tip a faint radiance came. Gimli marvelled inwardly at the precise workmanship of the stairway, which was undamaged and sound although deep in the dust of years. They trudged on in silence up some two hundred shallow steps, which took them up at a slight but monotonous incline. Where they levelled out at last they found an arched passageway leading on into the infinite dark.
"Let us sit and rest and have something to eat, here on the landing, since we can't find a dining-room!" Said Frodo. He had begun to shake off the terror of the clutching arm, and suddenly felt extremely hungry.
This proposal was welcomed by all; and they sat down on the steps, dim figures in the gloom. After they had eaten, Gandalf gave them each a third sip of the miruvour of Rivendell.
"It will not last much longer, I am afraid," He said "but I think we need it after the horror at the gate. And unless we have great luck, we shall need all that is left before we see the other side! Go carefully with the water, too! There are many streams and wells in the Mines, but they should not be touched. We may not have a chance of filling our skins and bottles till we come down into Dimrill Dale."
Legolas sighed. Gandalf's words were light when weighed against the long, dangerous way they must take. Kienariel too was discouraged, but was also forming a plot in her mind concerning the water.
"But no one must see." She thought. Gandalf gave her seeing look from under his bushy eyebrows, and she gave him an acknowledging nod, although she wondered whether he could read her thoughts. Yet then again, she felt that of the whole company, she trusted him most of all. The Man, Aragorn, she also trusted, if not only because he was so much like her brother in looks and manner. The Dwarf, she smiled inwardly, a charming, gruff character. The other Man and the hobbits she did not know well…. but the Elf confused her still. He defied much that she felt she knew of this land: this Bveness of legend.
"How long is that going to take us?" Asked Frodo.
"It depends on many chances. But going straight, without mishap or losing our way, we shall take three or four marches, I expect. It cannot be less than forty miles from West-door to East-gate in a direct line, and the road may wind much."
After only a brief rest they started on their way again. Tired as they were, they were eager to get the journey over with, and for many hours they trudged on: following the light of Gandalf's staff. Behind Gandalf walked Gimli, who turned his head from side to side, trying to take in all the great vastness of Moria. Behind the Dwarf walked Frodo, with Sting drawn as a warning against orcs. No glimmer shone on its blade, or that of Glamdring, Gandalf's sword; and that was some comfort, for being the work of Elvish smiths in the Elder Days, these swords shone with a cold light if any Orcs were near at hand. Behind Frodo went Sam, and after him Legolas, then Kienariel, and then the young hobbits followed by Boromir. In the rear, grim and silent, walked Aragorn.
The passage twisted and turned, much as Gandalf had predicted, and then dove downwards slowly for some 20 miles. At last the ground levelled out. The air grew hot and stuffy, but not unpleasant, and often they felt cool breezes curling out to brush their faces from out of doorways that led steeply up or down or opening blankly dark on either side. They spoke little, as the stone walls threw back eerie echoes.
Boromir's thoughts were bitter. It had seemed to him cowardly to give Saruman such a wide berth in merely climbing the Redhorn Gate, and now skulking in the dark was too great a pain to be born. With some five battle-worthy men – and perhaps Kienariel – the company was certainly great enough to destroy whatever force the wizard might throw at them. And surely if the Ring…. no! Surely not. Boromir could not think in the hot, oppressive darkness. His thoughts waged open war against each other in his mind. A breath of fresh air kissed the dark air of the bloody battlefield – a strain of music. Boromir's ears strained to catch more of the releasing song.
"Padorth vi morneh partalch,
Dnichas ne sui danach,
The cuaba phyna unlesata,
The morneh phyna shi cayla."
It was Kienariel singing again, in her strange language. Yet the sound seemed to have an effect on all of the company, calming nerves and lessening the weight of that oppressive dark. The tune was brave and bright, defiant of the shadow. She noticed Boromir's glance, and smiling she continued, as if she had read his thought, in the Common Tongue:
"There is darkness before light shines once more,
As before the singing sea, there lays a silver shore,
Our mother, our mother how you call me back,
Prophesies me of pain and fear, calling me back,
Beckon not, I have one last task before I die,
And unrobe to cold foam as upon thy breast I lie."
"That's a sort of bittersweet song, Ms. Kienariel." Said Sam bashfully, "I don't quite like all that about dying and cold water."
As if awakened from a reverie, Kienariel started. "You don't like to swim, then?"
Sam's eyes widened to such a degree that it was comical. "Swim? Me, miss? I should think not!"
"I could teach you." Offered Kienariel, turning about and walking backward so as to face him.
"No, no miss. I couldn't, I'd - "
"What he means to say is that he'd sink." Interjected Pippen, earning an elbow from Frodo.
"And you? Do you swim, Pippen?" Kienariel asked earnestly.
"Oh!" Pippen started, uncomfortable now that her enthusiastic attention was resting upon him. "No, I'm afraid I don't. Neither does Frodo or Merry, here."
"Are all of your race land-bound, even as you are?" She asked in disbelief.
"Well, for the greater most part, yes." Said Sam self-consciously.
Kienariel clearly was having trouble comprehending an entire people who could not swim.
"They are a people of fields and hills." Aragorn explained gently. "Even the smallest rivers are generally regarded as dangerous." The hobbits felt very foolish at this blunt appraisal of their instincts.
"I am very sorry for you!" Said Kienariel earnestly "But then again, you are not built for swimming, are you?" She said with a smile, looking the hobbits up and down.
Merry looked a little affronted, he being a Brandybuck and thus able to pride himself as being one of the more water-crafty hobbits. "Well, you are not made for water either, Kienariel."
She gave him an odd look that Legolas did not miss. "What makes you say that?"
"Well," He looked a little taken aback, but was smiling at his own discomfort "Most that go about on two legs aren't made for such a purpose!"
Kienariel didn't seem to be able to come up with a response to that, but gave Merry a mysterious smile as she twirled about and continued walking.
Silence fell again upon the company. All that could be heard were the shuffling beats of footsteps and breathing. Boromir's thoughts returned to their dark arguments, only to be interrupted again by song. He listened. It was a rustic, cheerful tune, and the voice was Sam's.
"Upon the hearth, the fire is red,
Beneath the roof, there is a bed,"
The other hobbits laughed softly and joined in song.
"But not yet weary are our feet,
Around the corner we may meet,
A sudden tree or standing stone,
That none have seen but we alone."
Legolas' thoughts however, were not disturbed by the hobbits' cheery song. The discussion between the hobbits had introduced a possibility he had not yet dreamed of in his ponderings of Kienariel's origins. He felt he had a theory at last.
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I've got the next chapter coming up right now, so hold on to your seats. Interesting plot development comin' up! And you should be pleased that I could write at all. There's a rock concert going on right outside my window, I kid you not! Please review for me! Thanx.
Thank you all for the reviews. I just can't answer your questions now – it gives away waaaaaaaay too much!
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Without warning, a sickly-green tentacle erupted from the depths of the murky water and seized Frodo by the ankle, and began to drag him with great strength down to the slimy edge of the water. Frodo cried out in surprise and horror as he fell hard to the ground, scrabbling helplessly amongst the gravel for a handhold.
"Sam!" He cried.
br
Bill the pony gave a terrified neigh and galloped wildly along the lakeside, his eyes wide and frantic with fear. Sam at once sprang after his beloved pony, but halted at his master's cry. Torn between two loves, he swayed in undecided limbo, aware that if he tarried longer precious time would be lost either way. At last he ran weeping and cursing to the aid of his master, hacking with his short sword at the twisting tentacle. The water of the lake boiled as some great movement disturbed deeper waters and stirred silt to further pollute the surface. The severed arm released Frodo, and Sam tried to pull him away from the treacherous shore, calling for help; but all were frozen in horror. At once the black waters erupted with more tentacles, all reaching, writhing and twisting out towards Frodo, Sam and the Company. Gandalf's cry woke them all from the dismayed stupor that had grasped the Company:
br
"Into the gateway! Up the stairs! Quick!" He shouted.
Not a moment too soon were Frodo and Sam on the threshold of Moria before the arms were entwining themselves around the ancient doors. Gandalf turned to search quickly for a word to close the doors, but the arms swung the heavy doors shut with tremendous strength and the Company was thrown into darkness. The sound of heavy stone upon stone thudded dully through the thick stone doors, and in the pitch black they could guess that they were sealed in: trapped.
Legolas felt a tightening in his heart as he thought of the journey through the long, torturous path in oppressive night-dark of Moria. No, it was not even the dark of night. Night often has at least the light of stars or moon – there were no stars in this forsaken pit of the dwarves. What cruel twist of fate had brought him here?
"Well, well!" Said Gandalf with resigned acceptance "The passage is blocked now and there is only one way out – on the other side of the mountains. I fear from the sounds that boulders have been piled up, and the trees uprooted and thrown across the gate. I am sorry; for the trees were beautiful and had stood there so long."
"I felt that something horrible was near from the moment that my foot first touched the water." Said Frodo.
"As did I." Said Kienariel in a shaky voice. Legolas did not blame her, he was unnerved herself. He wished he could see Boromir, he was sure the Man was doubtful of her hardiness, and for some reason Legolas was indignant.
"What did you feel?" Gandalf asked her quietly. From the shuffling sounds, it seemed that the wizard had stepped closer to her.
"Something a-alive. Monstrous, but the feeling was…. distant." She stammered, aware that she was the centre of attention. The darkness pressed closer in the silence that followed her short statement.
"What was the thing, or were there many of them?" Frodo asked, as if directing the question to the Company, although it was obvious that few could answer.
"A single mind directed the arms." Kienariel said simply, still taking short nervous breaths.
"I do not know," Answered Gandalf, "But the arms were at least all guided by one purpose. Something has crept, or has been driven out of dark waters under the mountains. There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world." He did not speak aloud his thought on whatever it was that dwelt in the lake, nor did Kienariel, but Gandalf felt it boded ill that whatever it was that made its home in the lake, it had marked out Frodo first among all the Company.
Boromir muttered under his breath, but the echoing stone magnified the sound to a hoarse whisper that all could hear: "In the deep places of the world! And thither are we going against my wish."
"Oh dear, oh dear." Said Sam.
"Quite what I was thinking." Said Pippin miserably.
"Whatever our feelings, we have no choice now but to go on." Aragorn said calmly.
"You are right, Aragorn." Said Gandalf. "We should start at once. I shall lead, and Gimli shall walk with me. Follow my staff!" Gandalf held his staff aloft and from its tip a faint radiance came. Gimli marvelled inwardly at the precise workmanship of the stairway, which was undamaged and sound although deep in the dust of years. They trudged on in silence up some two hundred shallow steps, which took them up at a slight but monotonous incline. Where they levelled out at last they found an arched passageway leading on into the infinite dark.
"Let us sit and rest and have something to eat, here on the landing, since we can't find a dining-room!" Said Frodo. He had begun to shake off the terror of the clutching arm, and suddenly felt extremely hungry.
This proposal was welcomed by all; and they sat down on the steps, dim figures in the gloom. After they had eaten, Gandalf gave them each a third sip of the miruvour of Rivendell.
"It will not last much longer, I am afraid," He said "but I think we need it after the horror at the gate. And unless we have great luck, we shall need all that is left before we see the other side! Go carefully with the water, too! There are many streams and wells in the Mines, but they should not be touched. We may not have a chance of filling our skins and bottles till we come down into Dimrill Dale."
Legolas sighed. Gandalf's words were light when weighed against the long, dangerous way they must take. Kienariel too was discouraged, but was also forming a plot in her mind concerning the water.
"But no one must see." She thought. Gandalf gave her seeing look from under his bushy eyebrows, and she gave him an acknowledging nod, although she wondered whether he could read her thoughts. Yet then again, she felt that of the whole company, she trusted him most of all. The Man, Aragorn, she also trusted, if not only because he was so much like her brother in looks and manner. The Dwarf, she smiled inwardly, a charming, gruff character. The other Man and the hobbits she did not know well…. but the Elf confused her still. He defied much that she felt she knew of this land: this Bveness of legend.
"How long is that going to take us?" Asked Frodo.
"It depends on many chances. But going straight, without mishap or losing our way, we shall take three or four marches, I expect. It cannot be less than forty miles from West-door to East-gate in a direct line, and the road may wind much."
After only a brief rest they started on their way again. Tired as they were, they were eager to get the journey over with, and for many hours they trudged on: following the light of Gandalf's staff. Behind Gandalf walked Gimli, who turned his head from side to side, trying to take in all the great vastness of Moria. Behind the Dwarf walked Frodo, with Sting drawn as a warning against orcs. No glimmer shone on its blade, or that of Glamdring, Gandalf's sword; and that was some comfort, for being the work of Elvish smiths in the Elder Days, these swords shone with a cold light if any Orcs were near at hand. Behind Frodo went Sam, and after him Legolas, then Kienariel, and then the young hobbits followed by Boromir. In the rear, grim and silent, walked Aragorn.
The passage twisted and turned, much as Gandalf had predicted, and then dove downwards slowly for some 20 miles. At last the ground levelled out. The air grew hot and stuffy, but not unpleasant, and often they felt cool breezes curling out to brush their faces from out of doorways that led steeply up or down or opening blankly dark on either side. They spoke little, as the stone walls threw back eerie echoes.
Boromir's thoughts were bitter. It had seemed to him cowardly to give Saruman such a wide berth in merely climbing the Redhorn Gate, and now skulking in the dark was too great a pain to be born. With some five battle-worthy men – and perhaps Kienariel – the company was certainly great enough to destroy whatever force the wizard might throw at them. And surely if the Ring…. no! Surely not. Boromir could not think in the hot, oppressive darkness. His thoughts waged open war against each other in his mind. A breath of fresh air kissed the dark air of the bloody battlefield – a strain of music. Boromir's ears strained to catch more of the releasing song.
"Padorth vi morneh partalch,
Dnichas ne sui danach,
The cuaba phyna unlesata,
The morneh phyna shi cayla."
It was Kienariel singing again, in her strange language. Yet the sound seemed to have an effect on all of the company, calming nerves and lessening the weight of that oppressive dark. The tune was brave and bright, defiant of the shadow. She noticed Boromir's glance, and smiling she continued, as if she had read his thought, in the Common Tongue:
"There is darkness before light shines once more,
As before the singing sea, there lays a silver shore,
Our mother, our mother how you call me back,
Prophesies me of pain and fear, calling me back,
Beckon not, I have one last task before I die,
And unrobe to cold foam as upon thy breast I lie."
"That's a sort of bittersweet song, Ms. Kienariel." Said Sam bashfully, "I don't quite like all that about dying and cold water."
As if awakened from a reverie, Kienariel started. "You don't like to swim, then?"
Sam's eyes widened to such a degree that it was comical. "Swim? Me, miss? I should think not!"
"I could teach you." Offered Kienariel, turning about and walking backward so as to face him.
"No, no miss. I couldn't, I'd - "
"What he means to say is that he'd sink." Interjected Pippen, earning an elbow from Frodo.
"And you? Do you swim, Pippen?" Kienariel asked earnestly.
"Oh!" Pippen started, uncomfortable now that her enthusiastic attention was resting upon him. "No, I'm afraid I don't. Neither does Frodo or Merry, here."
"Are all of your race land-bound, even as you are?" She asked in disbelief.
"Well, for the greater most part, yes." Said Sam self-consciously.
Kienariel clearly was having trouble comprehending an entire people who could not swim.
"They are a people of fields and hills." Aragorn explained gently. "Even the smallest rivers are generally regarded as dangerous." The hobbits felt very foolish at this blunt appraisal of their instincts.
"I am very sorry for you!" Said Kienariel earnestly "But then again, you are not built for swimming, are you?" She said with a smile, looking the hobbits up and down.
Merry looked a little affronted, he being a Brandybuck and thus able to pride himself as being one of the more water-crafty hobbits. "Well, you are not made for water either, Kienariel."
She gave him an odd look that Legolas did not miss. "What makes you say that?"
"Well," He looked a little taken aback, but was smiling at his own discomfort "Most that go about on two legs aren't made for such a purpose!"
Kienariel didn't seem to be able to come up with a response to that, but gave Merry a mysterious smile as she twirled about and continued walking.
Silence fell again upon the company. All that could be heard were the shuffling beats of footsteps and breathing. Boromir's thoughts returned to their dark arguments, only to be interrupted again by song. He listened. It was a rustic, cheerful tune, and the voice was Sam's.
"Upon the hearth, the fire is red,
Beneath the roof, there is a bed,"
The other hobbits laughed softly and joined in song.
"But not yet weary are our feet,
Around the corner we may meet,
A sudden tree or standing stone,
That none have seen but we alone."
Legolas' thoughts however, were not disturbed by the hobbits' cheery song. The discussion between the hobbits had introduced a possibility he had not yet dreamed of in his ponderings of Kienariel's origins. He felt he had a theory at last.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've got the next chapter coming up right now, so hold on to your seats. Interesting plot development comin' up! And you should be pleased that I could write at all. There's a rock concert going on right outside my window, I kid you not! Please review for me! Thanx.