As they came into the final chamber, where he could feel the very essence of evil pulsing like a poisoned heartbeat around him, Legolas glanced over at Nimoë, looking to see if she was ready to begin closing the Chasm. Her eyes were glazed over, and her mouth moved, forming words with no sound. "Nimoë?" he asked, a catch in his throat.
She did not respond, only walked into the excruciating heat of the chamber, her body drawn forward as if of some other volition. He moved after her, and cringed at the searing pain shooting through his boots. The ground was so hot that he could hardly stand to place his feet down, but Nimoë moved over it slowly, as if she felt nothing. Something was not right. Very, very wrong.
Before he could move to pull her back, however, Caldarion lunged forward, pinning Nimoë to the ground. Legolas watched in horror as she began to struggle, fighting Caldarion off of her as if he were little more than a child. Caldarion's scream of, "It's a trap! Run! Take Nimoë and run!" was hardly necessary. His beloved wife was strong, but nowhere near strong enough to fight off the young warrior, unless she was possessed by some strength other than her own.
Legolas broke out of his paralyzed state and sprang forward, grabbing Nimoë by the arms just as she threw Caldarion off of her and began moving again towards the Chasm. He pulled back against her with all of his strength, but it was not enough. His feet could find no purchase on the smooth floor of the chamber, and he felt himself being pulled after her.
Abruptly, his forward motion slowed, and he glanced down. Caldarion had rolled himself forward and wrapped his arms around Nimoë's ankles, holding her fast. His face was contorted in agony and a terrible, piercing scream rose from his twisted lips. "I am sorry, Legolas! Morgoth took me for his own, and I have been forced to lead you here. Do not let her near the Chasm. If he touches her, she will be forced to use the Elfsong to bring him into this world. Legolas, if Morgoth reaches Middle Earth, it will be the end of us all. You must stop him!" A new scream, even more agonized that the first was ripped from Caldarion, and Legolas felt his heart die.
Nimoë was still struggling, but with both her arms and her legs held she could not advance. It was as if her body was being torn in two, as the magnetic pull of the Chasm drew her forward against the resisting weight of the two creatures clinging to her limbs. I am coming… I hear your call, Master… I will do your will…
"Nimoë! Beloved! Fight him! Dig deep within yourself. You must fight him."
The voice reached her ears, but it was as if a strip of cloth had been bound over them, muffling the meaning. Even more violently did she struggle then, and managed to loose her right foot from the weakening creature striving to keep her from her Master. Using that foot, she pulled herself forward, dragging both of her captors behind her.
"Gilmin! Raven! Help us!"
Then there were four more hands on her, two wrapped around her waist, the others recapturing her free leg. A gruff voice she thought she should recognize spoke, "If Morgoth reaches her, she will bring him into this world, but are we not doomed even if we escape? His will still permeates into the hearts of Men, through the Rings. We must find a way to bring her back to us. She must use her power to stop him, or all is lost!"
Again her forward motion was stopped, but she had gained a good two meters towards the Chasm. The creature that held her arms replied in a voice made harsh with emotion, "I will not lose her again, Gilmin. We must get her out of here. Surely there must be another way…"
From near her feet came the pain filled voice, "There is no other way, Legolas… I know this from his own mind…"
Nimoë could feel the grip on her left leg losing strength, and she kicked out viciously. She was rewarded by a pained grunt, and then her leg was free. The closer she drew to the beckoning Chasm, the stronger she grew. Against the three still clinging tenaciously to her she fought, dragging them forward, inch by agonizing inch.
Out of the Chasm a black cloud began to billow. At first it rose straight upwards, but soon it began to take form; a twisted arm, a hand tipped with talons. Master!!! Here I am!
Legolas saw the cloud talon rise up out of the Chasm, and his pulse began to race. If that thing touches her… Galvanized, he released his grip on her arms long enough to push Gilmin away from her waist, and to throw her over his shoulder, kicking and screaming.
Raven grabbed at her legs, trying to keep them from inflicting damage to the Elf Prince, and Gilmin ran forward to aid Caldarion, who was lying, writhing in voiceless agony, on the sweltering floor.
The black hand, the grip of Morgoth, reached after them, moving slowly but relentlessly towards them. Legolas glanced behind and saw that it was nearing. "No," he swore under his breath, as harsh as cold steel. "You will not take her from me."
If they could only escape the cavern, perhaps they would be far enough away to elude the Dark Lord's grasp. Just a few more meters and then…
The ground beneath them shook, throwing Gilmin and Caldarion to the earth. Legolas and Raven only just managed to retain their footing, but when Legolas looked towards the tunnel they had entered from, a reddish-orange glow was approaching, lighting the sides of the passageway as it came.
Once again the ground shook, and Legolas felt despair settle into the pit of his stomach. He had experienced this before, in the Mines of Moria. The Balrog was coming.
The Balrog was coming, and the ancient fire demon was blocking the only passage of escape. They were trapped. Morgoth's plan was succeeding.
AAAIIII!!!! Caldarion ached to scream aloud, but the effort would have been too much. He guessed that the only reason he was still alive and able to function, even minimally, was the fact that Morgoth's limited strength was stretched, as he trapped Nimoë's mind. Having to split his energies had weakened his hold on the dark-haired Elf just enough that he was able to resist, to fight back. Nimoë was the more valuable prize, and the Dark Lord was taking no chances. The bulk of his strength was directed at the Elf maid.
As soon as Caldarion realized that the Balrog had blocked their path, he drew within himself, terrified. Here was the very beast that had branded him, that had delivered him to the Darkness. They were doomed. There was no way to fight both the Balrog and Morgoth simultaneously. With Nimoë under the Dark Lord's control, truly there was no way to fight either alone, let alone together. Both foes were beyond the ability of swords and arrows to wound.
The smell of his own burning hair roused him from his reverie, along with Gilmin tugging at his arm, "Get up, Caldarion! Make ready to fight!"
Using what little remained of his strength, Caldarion pulled himself off of the burning ground. The putrid smell of melted hair assailed his nostrils, and he wondered how long he had lain there, after having been thrown by the approach of the Balrog.
He looked behind him and saw that the billowing smoky mass that was the presence of Morgoth in the physical world had grown, and he heard a low, rumbling laugh. Glancing back at his companions, he saw that none of them seemed to hear the laughter. It grew even louder with his realization, and he knew that Morgoth was speaking within his own mind.
Did you really think that your puny attempt at valor would succeed, Elf? Watch and tremble, for now you will witness my rebirth into the world, and you will share the honor of being the first victim of my wrath!
Through the burning agony of pain, Caldarion cried out, "Legolas! Go!"
Nimoë fought with a strength beyond her own, and Legolas was sore put to hold her captive. His muscles burned with the strength needed to bind her to him, and he silently cried out to Elbereth for endurance.
The Balrog was growing ever nearer, and the heat in the chamber grew exponentially. It was a marvel that they were not unconscious from the sweltering temperatures. If he could have reached the wall of the cavern, Legolas would have tried to hide there, then dart past the Balrog as it entered, desperate as that might seem, but the boiling moat of lava separated them from the walls, leaving no place to hide.
They were surrounded by fire and by two enemies beyond their ability to fight. Desperate, he set Nimoë down on her feet, pinning her against his body, with her arms held tight to her sides. "Nimoë! You must hear me! Come back to us. You are the only one who can save us. Please!"
There was no response, and he shook her brutally, hoping that perhaps he could jar her back to her senses. Still, the terrible haze remained over her grey eyes, leaving them dead, like volcanic ash, rather than their usual vibrant cloudy shade. He could feel tears of frustration running down his cheeks, but ignored them, wracking his mind for any possible way of breaking Morgoth's hold before it was too late.
And then it was too late.
The Balrog loomed into view, and the grasping claw of Morgoth edged nearer still. Raven and Gilmin took up a guarding position in front of Legolas and Nimoë, their weapons drawn, although they trembled, while Caldarion placed his back against his Prince, defending his dearest friends with his own tortured body from the terror that reached out from the Void.
There were only seconds left, and Legolas felt despair cascade over him. Knowing that they were about to die, he leaned down to give his beloved one last kiss.
