A/N: Crystal: I will try to go slower in this chapter. I sped up things in
the last because I don't like the books too much, and I thought it would be
more interesting to just go to the mines. thanx! I'll work on the time
span.
The first day of the trek through the Mines of Moria was arduous for all. Time was difficult to tell in the gloom of the innumerable caverns, but all knew it passed slowly. Gandalf's staff, leading the way, was the only beacon. There was little conversation; stealth was the Fellowship's means of crossing the Mines unnoticed.
Midway through the day, there was a scurrying of claws upon rock as a small creature crossed the path in front of Ella. She jumped back in alarm, and nearly collided with the person in back of her. She drew a sharp intake of breath, and felt a hand clapped over her mouth. Smelling a clean and crisp scent, Ella knew it was Legolas. She realized that he must have feared she would scream, but anger still welled up. He thought she had so little control over herself! She angrily shrugged off his hand and walked onward.
Legolas was in inner turmoil, questioning his action, and came to the conclusion that Ella deserved an apology. He walked alongside her as soon as the road was wide enough.
"I am sorry," he said, " I should not have done that."
"Don't worry about it," she said with a smile. Staying angry at something so minor was dumb she figured. Legolas took the opportunity to study her smiling face, and found she looked beautiful even with dirt smudges and ragged clothes.
Ella, happier now that they had reconciled, found that she was finally accustomed to the days of never-ending walking. She was able to not only keep up, she didn't feel as wearied as she had during previous nights. That night, after a silent meal, Ella asked Legolas to read to her from her spell book. She had not asked him for many nights, instead, she had slept. He was surprised, but willing to read to her. He felt she was interesting, and welcomed her company. There was no light in the mine shaft, so Ella created a small globe of green light that hovered a little above the book.
"Sleep spells are a simpler spell, because sleeping is something the body naturally does," Legolas read, "After focusing on the object, project slumber as the spell words are said."
Ella listened to the words, and memorized them for later use.
"I don't think I can practice this one on anybody," she said, "It'll have to wait."
Legolas nodded in agreement. He watched as Ella unrolled her blankets next to him and wrapped herself up in them.
"G'night," she mumbled to him. Though sleep was not vital for him, Legolas settled down and leaned on a pack, his eyes glassing over. He normally slept very lightly, but he awoke only once that night when Ella, tossing in her sleep, rolled over next to him, her back touching his chest. Legolas' eyes snapped open, and he looked at the warm bundle curled up next to him. Her eyes were closed and her tangled auburn hair surrounded her face. She looked vulnerable and innocent. He found he didn't object to her presence, and put his arm around her, resolving to wake early the next morning and put her in a different position, one better for both their reputations.
The second day was much the same as the first. The Fellowship traveled the same road, led by Gandalf. The crumbling of the road became more frequent, and there were sometimes chasms in the middle that had to be avoided. They traveled as swiftly as the hobbits could go for no one wanted to spend an unnecessary moment in the Mines. Ella tumbled into her bedroll without Legolas reading the spell book to her.
Waking and eating quickly, the Fellowship continued on their journey through the mines. Midway through, they came to an intersection in the road. There were three archways through which the road forked. Gandalf could not recall which way was correct, and sat perched upon a stone, solitarily puffing on his pipe. Ella sat with her back resting against a rock along with the rest of the Fellowship. She unsheathed her sword and tried to clean it with her grimy sleeve. She shined the sapphire pommel stone to a subtle glow, and studied the graceful characters engraved into the silver hilt. As she studied the sword, she remembered Gandalf once saying that magic could be stored in the elvish sword. Ella decided to try it. She closed her eyes and mentally reached out to the sword. She frowned as she encountered a wall and prodded it, reaching out beyond it.
Suddenly, she felt a force seize her mind and pull her inside the walls. It was not unlike when she had been transported to Middle Earth, and Ella found herself back in her own world. She was at the corner of an intersection, and cars were whizzing by her. She was standing on the curb of a crosswalk, on a street she recognized, right in the center of town. Ella looked to her right and saw a tall, thin, auburn-haired woman next to her. Ella's eyes widened in shock.
"Mom?" she gasped, her eyes hungrily looking at the face she thought she would never see again. She tried to memorize the details, from the wide, black-fringed green eyes to the small nose and rosebud lips. Ella could see much of herself in her mother's face, though her features were stronger.
The woman didn't turn or even glance at Ella. Ella tried jumping in front of her mother to no avail. She reached out to grab her mother's arm, and her hand passed through. This is like some bad sci-fi movie, Ella thought sadly. To be teased with the sight of her mother and unable to speak to her again was agonizing torture. The stoplight turned red, and the walk signal flashed. Ella's mother stepped off the curb and walked across the street, Ella following beside her. When they were almost halfway across the street, there was a flash of white light and a man in grey robes appeared in the center of the crosswalk. Ella was thrown off for a moment, for the wizard wore different colored robes and his hair was not as pure a white, but realized the wizard was Saruman! His eyes lit up with a feral glint as he caught sight of Ella's mother.
"Nora," he hissed. He raised his hands, with nails longer than a woman's and sharpened to a point, and chanted a spell. White lightening sputtered in his hands, and became twin spheres as he summoned more energy. The air was filled with the screams and gasps from the pedestrians on the street who were racing away. Nora, quickly getting over her initial shock, was frantically weaving a counter spell in the air, her fingers twisting and her voice mumbling words.
She was too late. The white lightening shot at her, crackling at impact and throwing her limp body back to the sidewalk where it lay like a bent Raggedy-Anne doll. Ella screamed wordlessly, the hot tears pouring down her cheeks. The odor of burned flesh permeated the air, and Ella turned away from her mother's charred body, seeing nothing but a mangled blur from the tears that stung her eyes. Ella felt herself being pulled back out of the sword's memory, not caring where she went.
Ella jerked her head up and saw she was back in the black Mines. Looking around, she saw the rest of the Fellowship in the same position as when she had left as if no time had passed. The scene of her mother's death was sinking in, and Ella felt her eyes welling up and spilling down her already tear stained cheeks. She staggered to her feet, oblivious to the looks of concern from her companions and made her way over to where Gandalf sat.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she choked.
"What is it?" he asked, grey brows drawn together in worry.
"My mother," Ella said.
Gandalf sighed. "I have not known for very long, Ella," Gandalf said slowly. "I realized that Saruman murdered your mother when I was captured at Isengard. We knew an evil wizard had slain your mother, but we did not know whom. I arrived shortly after he did to pay a visit to your mother, and I straightened things out there. There were memories to fix, and your father was devastated. He loved her very much."
"Why?" Ella asked softly.
"Nora was a very powerful witch. We were severely diminished in numbers after the Great War, and needed a new head. If she ever returned to Middle Earth, she would become the head of our order. Saruman wanted that position more than anything. I knew he was ambitious, but I didn't realize how set he was on gaining that power. He was not always so merciless. Ambitious, yes, but not ruthless. I am partially to blame. I should have known." Gandalf finished sadly. His eyes looked much brighter than usual, though he had seen countless deaths over his many years. "You must have seen that as a part of the sword's memory. It was your mother's sword and she used to store magic in it. Some trace must have lingered and surfaced when you tried it. I am assuming that is what you were trying?" Ella nodded, and Gandalf continued, "That sword went everywhere with your mother. She was a very accomplished swordswoman in Middle Earth, and didn't want to part with her beloved sword. She transformed it into a pendant, and wore it around her neck daily."
Ella absorbed the information silently, tears still flowing. Then she handed Gandalf her sword.
"I never want to see that again," she said quietly, "Please get rid of it for me, Gandalf."
He did as she bid him, and handed it back to her.
"You can store excess in it now without ever seeing anything like it again." He told her. She nodded and sat with him for a little longer, and then walked back to the Fellowship.
"Are you all right?" Pippin asked.
Ella just shook her head and sat down. Nobody bothered her further; they seemed to understand. Ella drudged up all her memories of her mother and relentlessly began to go over them all. When her mother had died, Ella had blocked out all memories of her and had not let herself cry and move on, and it hadn't helped that her father had refused to talk about her mother's death. Her mother had been her best friend. She was always ready for a joke, never too busy to talk to Ella, but she decided that it was time to start moving on. This would take a long time, and might never happen, but she decided to start. She sat staring into space, looking at things only she could see.
"Ahhh.. It's that way," Gandalf said, interrupting Ella's thoughts. The last thing Ella wanted to do was keep going right now, especially with her emotions so chaotically jumbled, but she rose into a crouch and sheathed her sword. A strong arm helped her up to her full height. Ella looked over her shoulder and saw Legolas. Impulsively, she threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him hard. She smiled slightly at the look of surprise in his eyes, and turned to follow the rest of her companions onward.
They beheld the regal entrance to the Mines of Moria a while later with the awe the rows upon rows of towering columns in the capacious chamber commanded. The dwarf architecture was amazing. Unlike elves, they sought to tame the stone with which they worked, bending it to their will. Tall columns and spires were a staple, evidenced in the great hall.
Gimli spotted a sidechamber with pale, wavering light illuminating a tomb, and raced toward it with a strangled cry.
"Gimli!" Gandalf shouted at the dwarf's retreating figure, too late. The rest of the Fellowship followed the dwarf into the chamber, as Gimli wept over the stone tomb.
"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria," Gandalf read off of the slab of rock covering the tomb. Ella stood at the back of the group and watched the emotions play across the group's faces. Almost amused, Ella saw Legolas shifting his weight from foot to foot. Any unnecessary movement from the elf was unusual. Ella heard him whisper to Aragorn, "We cannot linger."
Gandalf slid a heavy book out of the long deceased scribe's withered hand, and flipped to the last minutes of the scribe's transcription, blowing the heavy layer of dust away.
"They have taken the bridge," he read, "And the second hall. We have barred the gates. We cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums, drums in the deep. We cannot get out. Shadow moves in the dark. Cannot get out. They are coming," he finished.
Pippin curiously reached out and touched the hand of a corpse perched on the wall of a stone well, and sent it clattering over the edge, head first, followed by the rest of the body and the bucket and chain. The noise echoed through the Mines.
"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf snapped, turning on Pippin, "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!"
Pippin ashamedly hung his head. The tension was tangible as the Fellowship apprehensively listened for any sound the disturbance might have caused. After a moment, there was a collective sigh of relief at the continued silence, but their hope was short lived as the faint throb of a drum was heard. Ella could feel a clenching dread settling in her stomach.
Boromir was the first to take action. He rushed to close the decrepit wooden doors, first peering out into the hall. Arrows raced for his head, and he quickly drew back and shut the doors.
"Get back!" Aragorn ordered the hobbits, "Stay close to Gandalf!"
Gandalf had drawn his sword in one hand and brandished his staff in the other. The hobbits had drawn their short swords and were gathered around Gandalf.
"They have a cave troll," Boromir declared as he and Aragorn barred the door with axes Ella and Legolas tossed to them.
Aragorn and Boromir stepped back and drew their swords as Legolas drew an arrow from his quiver. Ella drew her sword and stepped forward.
The orcs broke in, and though the first were felled by arrows, more poured in until the chamber was a roiling sea of them. Ella tried to stay with the group, but was quickly separated. She fought to get her back against a wall. There was no time for finesse Ella quickly learned. Gripping her sword in both hands, a cold and mindless fury settled in her. She hated the orcs and the evil they represented with a vehemence that surprised her. Even in her anger, she was still patient and doggedly blocked the orcs' blows until they gave her an opening at their necks. Her strategy worked well, and she soon had a circle of dead orcs surrounding her. The cave troll crashed into the chamber, swiping his club at friend or foe. A dead orc was hurled into Ella, and fell back into the wall, her sword clattering out of her grasp. Another orc pulled her up from behind, and had a choke hold on her throat. Ella valiantly struggled, trying to squirm to freedom. The hold increased until all Ella could see was multicolored spots and she could struggle no longer, when the orc slumped forward, an arrow protruding from its forehead. Ella smiled, thinking of her rescuer, and kicked the orc off of her, looking around in time to see the cave troll had cornered Frodo. The smile was wiped off her face, and replaced with a look of horror as it speared Frodo.
"Frodo!" she cried hoarsely.
She ran across the chamber toward him, fending off one orc and decapitating another. She was held up by another, and received a cut in her side before she killed it. She looked up in time to see the cave troll tottering over, onto her if she didn't move now. The troll groaned loudly and slowly toppled over. Throwing herself out from under it, Ella rolled to lessen the pain of her collision with the stone floor. The Fellowship formed a circle around Frodo. His breath came in gasps, but he gasped, "I'm all right. I'm not hurt."
"That spear would have skewered a wild boar!" Aragorn exclaimed.
"I think there is more to this hobbit than meets the eye," Gandalf said with a twinkle in his eye.
Frodo pulled open his shirt to reveal a shining silver coat of armor. The coat was finely crafted and all admired it.
"To the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!" Gandalf said, wanting to leave.
With Frodo unharmed, the Fellowship sprinted out of the sidechamber and into the main hall. It was crawling with orcs. They cascaded down from the columns in waves and surrounded the Fellowship with their sheer numbers. They came from crevices in the caves and climbed down the columns. They snarled, their hideous countenances contorting and revealing razor fangs. There's no way they we're going to get out of this one, Ella thought, drawing her sword again and glaring at the nearest orc. A thunderous noise came, this time much different from that of the orcs' drum. It was heavier and a red glow emanated from its source. The orcs, terrified, scrambled back to their crevices. Ella didn't take this as a good sign. She had no desire to see what caused their inadvertent rescue.
"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked.
Gandalf bowed his head in deep concentration. The rumbling came again. "A Balrog," he said tonelessly, "A demon from another world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" he commanded.
And with that he raced away, leading the Fellowship after him down the winding steps to the bridge of Khazad-dûm. Boromir almost toppled from an abrupt end to the steps, saved only by Legolas' speed.
"Lead them on, Aragorn," Gandalf ordered, "The Bridge is near. Do as I say!" he shouted, pushing Aragorn away when he hesitated, "Swords are of no more use here."
They were across from the bridge, and dashed toward it, but a chasm in the steps blocked their way. Legolas jumped across first, as arrows started whizzing at them shot by the orcs atop the balconies overlooking the bridge. Gandalf jumped next, followed by Boromir, with Merry and Pippin in tow, Sam and Gimli. Ella followed them and jumped to relative safety just as a block of rock severed the steps in back of Frodo and Aragorn. They tried to balance on their island of rock, but it drifted on its base.
"Lean forward!" Aragorn commanded. He and Frodo put their weight on the front of the rock and it collided with the other rock, launching them to safety. Again, the Fellowship sprinted away, this time across the bridge.
Gandalf spun around to face the Balrog pursuing them. It leapt from its cloud of flame and smoke and stood in a crouching position, its skull-like head crowned with horns and its black body stood four times taller than Gandalf. Still, Gandalf held his ground, fiercely declaring, "You cannot pass!"
The Balrog defiantly brandished its sword of fire and brought it crashing down upon Gandalf, who resiliently withstood the blow.
"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Arnor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn." Gandalf cried.
Unheeding, the Balrog advanced onward, contemptuously thrashing its whip.
"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" Gandalf shouted.
The Balrog stepped further toward Gandalf, its slit nostrils flaring. The Bridge crumbled underneath its feet, and it fell down into the dark ravine below it. Gandalf watched it fall for a moment, and turned around. The Balrog's fiery whip snaked up from the deep abyss, and latched onto Gandalf's foot, dragging him after the Balrog. Clinging onto the last edges of the Bride, he whispered, "Fly, you fools!"
Ella vaguely heard Frodo scream, as she tried to run back to the bridge. She wanted to save Gandalf, to do something. The memory of her mother's gruesome death was fresh in her mind, and she took off, wanting to change things this time around. Next to her mother, she loved Gandalf best. Legolas saw her go as he followed Aragorn to the exit of the mines. He spun around and grabbed Ella's hand as she passed him. She reacted ferociously, her hands flailing against his chest. Then, her green eyes narrowed to almond slivers and she started to chant a spell. Legolas' eyes widened, realizing that she meant to use magic against him. He brutally grabbed her wrists and broke her concentration. Half dragging her, he led a sobbing Ella out of the mines.
Once outside and breathing fresh air, Legolas released Ella, who berated herself for reacting like she did. What could I do? She thought scornfully, roughly wiping the last of her tears off of her cheeks. Legolas mourned Gandalf's death, but was furious at Ella for trying to use her magic against him.
"Legolas, get the map," Aragorn, now in command, ordered. Ella composed her features into a mask that showed no expression and readied her things to leave.
"Give them a moment for pity's sake," Boromir protested.
"These woods will be swarming with orcs. We must reach the woods of Lothlorien." Aragorn said. He started issuing orders to leave.
Ella agreed with what Aragorn was doing. It was probably best not to let them linger on their grief. She followed Aragorn, running at a steady lope, thankful for any distraction that took her mind off the events in the Mines of Moria.
The first day of the trek through the Mines of Moria was arduous for all. Time was difficult to tell in the gloom of the innumerable caverns, but all knew it passed slowly. Gandalf's staff, leading the way, was the only beacon. There was little conversation; stealth was the Fellowship's means of crossing the Mines unnoticed.
Midway through the day, there was a scurrying of claws upon rock as a small creature crossed the path in front of Ella. She jumped back in alarm, and nearly collided with the person in back of her. She drew a sharp intake of breath, and felt a hand clapped over her mouth. Smelling a clean and crisp scent, Ella knew it was Legolas. She realized that he must have feared she would scream, but anger still welled up. He thought she had so little control over herself! She angrily shrugged off his hand and walked onward.
Legolas was in inner turmoil, questioning his action, and came to the conclusion that Ella deserved an apology. He walked alongside her as soon as the road was wide enough.
"I am sorry," he said, " I should not have done that."
"Don't worry about it," she said with a smile. Staying angry at something so minor was dumb she figured. Legolas took the opportunity to study her smiling face, and found she looked beautiful even with dirt smudges and ragged clothes.
Ella, happier now that they had reconciled, found that she was finally accustomed to the days of never-ending walking. She was able to not only keep up, she didn't feel as wearied as she had during previous nights. That night, after a silent meal, Ella asked Legolas to read to her from her spell book. She had not asked him for many nights, instead, she had slept. He was surprised, but willing to read to her. He felt she was interesting, and welcomed her company. There was no light in the mine shaft, so Ella created a small globe of green light that hovered a little above the book.
"Sleep spells are a simpler spell, because sleeping is something the body naturally does," Legolas read, "After focusing on the object, project slumber as the spell words are said."
Ella listened to the words, and memorized them for later use.
"I don't think I can practice this one on anybody," she said, "It'll have to wait."
Legolas nodded in agreement. He watched as Ella unrolled her blankets next to him and wrapped herself up in them.
"G'night," she mumbled to him. Though sleep was not vital for him, Legolas settled down and leaned on a pack, his eyes glassing over. He normally slept very lightly, but he awoke only once that night when Ella, tossing in her sleep, rolled over next to him, her back touching his chest. Legolas' eyes snapped open, and he looked at the warm bundle curled up next to him. Her eyes were closed and her tangled auburn hair surrounded her face. She looked vulnerable and innocent. He found he didn't object to her presence, and put his arm around her, resolving to wake early the next morning and put her in a different position, one better for both their reputations.
The second day was much the same as the first. The Fellowship traveled the same road, led by Gandalf. The crumbling of the road became more frequent, and there were sometimes chasms in the middle that had to be avoided. They traveled as swiftly as the hobbits could go for no one wanted to spend an unnecessary moment in the Mines. Ella tumbled into her bedroll without Legolas reading the spell book to her.
Waking and eating quickly, the Fellowship continued on their journey through the mines. Midway through, they came to an intersection in the road. There were three archways through which the road forked. Gandalf could not recall which way was correct, and sat perched upon a stone, solitarily puffing on his pipe. Ella sat with her back resting against a rock along with the rest of the Fellowship. She unsheathed her sword and tried to clean it with her grimy sleeve. She shined the sapphire pommel stone to a subtle glow, and studied the graceful characters engraved into the silver hilt. As she studied the sword, she remembered Gandalf once saying that magic could be stored in the elvish sword. Ella decided to try it. She closed her eyes and mentally reached out to the sword. She frowned as she encountered a wall and prodded it, reaching out beyond it.
Suddenly, she felt a force seize her mind and pull her inside the walls. It was not unlike when she had been transported to Middle Earth, and Ella found herself back in her own world. She was at the corner of an intersection, and cars were whizzing by her. She was standing on the curb of a crosswalk, on a street she recognized, right in the center of town. Ella looked to her right and saw a tall, thin, auburn-haired woman next to her. Ella's eyes widened in shock.
"Mom?" she gasped, her eyes hungrily looking at the face she thought she would never see again. She tried to memorize the details, from the wide, black-fringed green eyes to the small nose and rosebud lips. Ella could see much of herself in her mother's face, though her features were stronger.
The woman didn't turn or even glance at Ella. Ella tried jumping in front of her mother to no avail. She reached out to grab her mother's arm, and her hand passed through. This is like some bad sci-fi movie, Ella thought sadly. To be teased with the sight of her mother and unable to speak to her again was agonizing torture. The stoplight turned red, and the walk signal flashed. Ella's mother stepped off the curb and walked across the street, Ella following beside her. When they were almost halfway across the street, there was a flash of white light and a man in grey robes appeared in the center of the crosswalk. Ella was thrown off for a moment, for the wizard wore different colored robes and his hair was not as pure a white, but realized the wizard was Saruman! His eyes lit up with a feral glint as he caught sight of Ella's mother.
"Nora," he hissed. He raised his hands, with nails longer than a woman's and sharpened to a point, and chanted a spell. White lightening sputtered in his hands, and became twin spheres as he summoned more energy. The air was filled with the screams and gasps from the pedestrians on the street who were racing away. Nora, quickly getting over her initial shock, was frantically weaving a counter spell in the air, her fingers twisting and her voice mumbling words.
She was too late. The white lightening shot at her, crackling at impact and throwing her limp body back to the sidewalk where it lay like a bent Raggedy-Anne doll. Ella screamed wordlessly, the hot tears pouring down her cheeks. The odor of burned flesh permeated the air, and Ella turned away from her mother's charred body, seeing nothing but a mangled blur from the tears that stung her eyes. Ella felt herself being pulled back out of the sword's memory, not caring where she went.
Ella jerked her head up and saw she was back in the black Mines. Looking around, she saw the rest of the Fellowship in the same position as when she had left as if no time had passed. The scene of her mother's death was sinking in, and Ella felt her eyes welling up and spilling down her already tear stained cheeks. She staggered to her feet, oblivious to the looks of concern from her companions and made her way over to where Gandalf sat.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she choked.
"What is it?" he asked, grey brows drawn together in worry.
"My mother," Ella said.
Gandalf sighed. "I have not known for very long, Ella," Gandalf said slowly. "I realized that Saruman murdered your mother when I was captured at Isengard. We knew an evil wizard had slain your mother, but we did not know whom. I arrived shortly after he did to pay a visit to your mother, and I straightened things out there. There were memories to fix, and your father was devastated. He loved her very much."
"Why?" Ella asked softly.
"Nora was a very powerful witch. We were severely diminished in numbers after the Great War, and needed a new head. If she ever returned to Middle Earth, she would become the head of our order. Saruman wanted that position more than anything. I knew he was ambitious, but I didn't realize how set he was on gaining that power. He was not always so merciless. Ambitious, yes, but not ruthless. I am partially to blame. I should have known." Gandalf finished sadly. His eyes looked much brighter than usual, though he had seen countless deaths over his many years. "You must have seen that as a part of the sword's memory. It was your mother's sword and she used to store magic in it. Some trace must have lingered and surfaced when you tried it. I am assuming that is what you were trying?" Ella nodded, and Gandalf continued, "That sword went everywhere with your mother. She was a very accomplished swordswoman in Middle Earth, and didn't want to part with her beloved sword. She transformed it into a pendant, and wore it around her neck daily."
Ella absorbed the information silently, tears still flowing. Then she handed Gandalf her sword.
"I never want to see that again," she said quietly, "Please get rid of it for me, Gandalf."
He did as she bid him, and handed it back to her.
"You can store excess in it now without ever seeing anything like it again." He told her. She nodded and sat with him for a little longer, and then walked back to the Fellowship.
"Are you all right?" Pippin asked.
Ella just shook her head and sat down. Nobody bothered her further; they seemed to understand. Ella drudged up all her memories of her mother and relentlessly began to go over them all. When her mother had died, Ella had blocked out all memories of her and had not let herself cry and move on, and it hadn't helped that her father had refused to talk about her mother's death. Her mother had been her best friend. She was always ready for a joke, never too busy to talk to Ella, but she decided that it was time to start moving on. This would take a long time, and might never happen, but she decided to start. She sat staring into space, looking at things only she could see.
"Ahhh.. It's that way," Gandalf said, interrupting Ella's thoughts. The last thing Ella wanted to do was keep going right now, especially with her emotions so chaotically jumbled, but she rose into a crouch and sheathed her sword. A strong arm helped her up to her full height. Ella looked over her shoulder and saw Legolas. Impulsively, she threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him hard. She smiled slightly at the look of surprise in his eyes, and turned to follow the rest of her companions onward.
They beheld the regal entrance to the Mines of Moria a while later with the awe the rows upon rows of towering columns in the capacious chamber commanded. The dwarf architecture was amazing. Unlike elves, they sought to tame the stone with which they worked, bending it to their will. Tall columns and spires were a staple, evidenced in the great hall.
Gimli spotted a sidechamber with pale, wavering light illuminating a tomb, and raced toward it with a strangled cry.
"Gimli!" Gandalf shouted at the dwarf's retreating figure, too late. The rest of the Fellowship followed the dwarf into the chamber, as Gimli wept over the stone tomb.
"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria," Gandalf read off of the slab of rock covering the tomb. Ella stood at the back of the group and watched the emotions play across the group's faces. Almost amused, Ella saw Legolas shifting his weight from foot to foot. Any unnecessary movement from the elf was unusual. Ella heard him whisper to Aragorn, "We cannot linger."
Gandalf slid a heavy book out of the long deceased scribe's withered hand, and flipped to the last minutes of the scribe's transcription, blowing the heavy layer of dust away.
"They have taken the bridge," he read, "And the second hall. We have barred the gates. We cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums, drums in the deep. We cannot get out. Shadow moves in the dark. Cannot get out. They are coming," he finished.
Pippin curiously reached out and touched the hand of a corpse perched on the wall of a stone well, and sent it clattering over the edge, head first, followed by the rest of the body and the bucket and chain. The noise echoed through the Mines.
"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf snapped, turning on Pippin, "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!"
Pippin ashamedly hung his head. The tension was tangible as the Fellowship apprehensively listened for any sound the disturbance might have caused. After a moment, there was a collective sigh of relief at the continued silence, but their hope was short lived as the faint throb of a drum was heard. Ella could feel a clenching dread settling in her stomach.
Boromir was the first to take action. He rushed to close the decrepit wooden doors, first peering out into the hall. Arrows raced for his head, and he quickly drew back and shut the doors.
"Get back!" Aragorn ordered the hobbits, "Stay close to Gandalf!"
Gandalf had drawn his sword in one hand and brandished his staff in the other. The hobbits had drawn their short swords and were gathered around Gandalf.
"They have a cave troll," Boromir declared as he and Aragorn barred the door with axes Ella and Legolas tossed to them.
Aragorn and Boromir stepped back and drew their swords as Legolas drew an arrow from his quiver. Ella drew her sword and stepped forward.
The orcs broke in, and though the first were felled by arrows, more poured in until the chamber was a roiling sea of them. Ella tried to stay with the group, but was quickly separated. She fought to get her back against a wall. There was no time for finesse Ella quickly learned. Gripping her sword in both hands, a cold and mindless fury settled in her. She hated the orcs and the evil they represented with a vehemence that surprised her. Even in her anger, she was still patient and doggedly blocked the orcs' blows until they gave her an opening at their necks. Her strategy worked well, and she soon had a circle of dead orcs surrounding her. The cave troll crashed into the chamber, swiping his club at friend or foe. A dead orc was hurled into Ella, and fell back into the wall, her sword clattering out of her grasp. Another orc pulled her up from behind, and had a choke hold on her throat. Ella valiantly struggled, trying to squirm to freedom. The hold increased until all Ella could see was multicolored spots and she could struggle no longer, when the orc slumped forward, an arrow protruding from its forehead. Ella smiled, thinking of her rescuer, and kicked the orc off of her, looking around in time to see the cave troll had cornered Frodo. The smile was wiped off her face, and replaced with a look of horror as it speared Frodo.
"Frodo!" she cried hoarsely.
She ran across the chamber toward him, fending off one orc and decapitating another. She was held up by another, and received a cut in her side before she killed it. She looked up in time to see the cave troll tottering over, onto her if she didn't move now. The troll groaned loudly and slowly toppled over. Throwing herself out from under it, Ella rolled to lessen the pain of her collision with the stone floor. The Fellowship formed a circle around Frodo. His breath came in gasps, but he gasped, "I'm all right. I'm not hurt."
"That spear would have skewered a wild boar!" Aragorn exclaimed.
"I think there is more to this hobbit than meets the eye," Gandalf said with a twinkle in his eye.
Frodo pulled open his shirt to reveal a shining silver coat of armor. The coat was finely crafted and all admired it.
"To the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!" Gandalf said, wanting to leave.
With Frodo unharmed, the Fellowship sprinted out of the sidechamber and into the main hall. It was crawling with orcs. They cascaded down from the columns in waves and surrounded the Fellowship with their sheer numbers. They came from crevices in the caves and climbed down the columns. They snarled, their hideous countenances contorting and revealing razor fangs. There's no way they we're going to get out of this one, Ella thought, drawing her sword again and glaring at the nearest orc. A thunderous noise came, this time much different from that of the orcs' drum. It was heavier and a red glow emanated from its source. The orcs, terrified, scrambled back to their crevices. Ella didn't take this as a good sign. She had no desire to see what caused their inadvertent rescue.
"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked.
Gandalf bowed his head in deep concentration. The rumbling came again. "A Balrog," he said tonelessly, "A demon from another world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" he commanded.
And with that he raced away, leading the Fellowship after him down the winding steps to the bridge of Khazad-dûm. Boromir almost toppled from an abrupt end to the steps, saved only by Legolas' speed.
"Lead them on, Aragorn," Gandalf ordered, "The Bridge is near. Do as I say!" he shouted, pushing Aragorn away when he hesitated, "Swords are of no more use here."
They were across from the bridge, and dashed toward it, but a chasm in the steps blocked their way. Legolas jumped across first, as arrows started whizzing at them shot by the orcs atop the balconies overlooking the bridge. Gandalf jumped next, followed by Boromir, with Merry and Pippin in tow, Sam and Gimli. Ella followed them and jumped to relative safety just as a block of rock severed the steps in back of Frodo and Aragorn. They tried to balance on their island of rock, but it drifted on its base.
"Lean forward!" Aragorn commanded. He and Frodo put their weight on the front of the rock and it collided with the other rock, launching them to safety. Again, the Fellowship sprinted away, this time across the bridge.
Gandalf spun around to face the Balrog pursuing them. It leapt from its cloud of flame and smoke and stood in a crouching position, its skull-like head crowned with horns and its black body stood four times taller than Gandalf. Still, Gandalf held his ground, fiercely declaring, "You cannot pass!"
The Balrog defiantly brandished its sword of fire and brought it crashing down upon Gandalf, who resiliently withstood the blow.
"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Arnor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn." Gandalf cried.
Unheeding, the Balrog advanced onward, contemptuously thrashing its whip.
"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" Gandalf shouted.
The Balrog stepped further toward Gandalf, its slit nostrils flaring. The Bridge crumbled underneath its feet, and it fell down into the dark ravine below it. Gandalf watched it fall for a moment, and turned around. The Balrog's fiery whip snaked up from the deep abyss, and latched onto Gandalf's foot, dragging him after the Balrog. Clinging onto the last edges of the Bride, he whispered, "Fly, you fools!"
Ella vaguely heard Frodo scream, as she tried to run back to the bridge. She wanted to save Gandalf, to do something. The memory of her mother's gruesome death was fresh in her mind, and she took off, wanting to change things this time around. Next to her mother, she loved Gandalf best. Legolas saw her go as he followed Aragorn to the exit of the mines. He spun around and grabbed Ella's hand as she passed him. She reacted ferociously, her hands flailing against his chest. Then, her green eyes narrowed to almond slivers and she started to chant a spell. Legolas' eyes widened, realizing that she meant to use magic against him. He brutally grabbed her wrists and broke her concentration. Half dragging her, he led a sobbing Ella out of the mines.
Once outside and breathing fresh air, Legolas released Ella, who berated herself for reacting like she did. What could I do? She thought scornfully, roughly wiping the last of her tears off of her cheeks. Legolas mourned Gandalf's death, but was furious at Ella for trying to use her magic against him.
"Legolas, get the map," Aragorn, now in command, ordered. Ella composed her features into a mask that showed no expression and readied her things to leave.
"Give them a moment for pity's sake," Boromir protested.
"These woods will be swarming with orcs. We must reach the woods of Lothlorien." Aragorn said. He started issuing orders to leave.
Ella agreed with what Aragorn was doing. It was probably best not to let them linger on their grief. She followed Aragorn, running at a steady lope, thankful for any distraction that took her mind off the events in the Mines of Moria.