"I will never leave you, Nimoë. In life, or in death, I will never be separated from you again," declared Legolas. "Do what you must, then we will flee."
Through the haze of her tears Nimoë saw that Gilmin and Raven were standing steadfastly beside the Elf, looking resolute and immutable. They would not leave them behind. It was clear that they were leaving together or not at all.
Finally nodding her acceptance, Nimoë pulled herself fully upright, away from the support of the stone wall, closed her eyes and began to sing. This was a different song still from any she had used before. Not only did she need to physically move the rock, she needed to seal the less physical chasm, the rent in the fabric of time and space that led into the Void.
Truly, she did not know if she would succeed.
One step at a time, Nimoë, she coached herself. First the Balrog. That was the easy part. Easy?! The corner of her mind that was still her own laughed at the thought as she forced the very stone to her will. A great scraping sound, like a giant serpent being dragged over harsh ground, filled her ears as she forced the rocks which held the Balrog prisoner forward.
Still captive, but having nearly worked its way free, the Balrog howled, understanding what was happening. It was being drawn inexorably towards the Void. If it could not break free of its bonds, it would join its master for good.
Even a Balrog can fear, so it seemed. Its struggles increased tenfold sending a hail of stones in all directions as it shook and fought, dragging its taloned feet along the slick cavern floor.
It was to no avail. Nimoë pressed her song onward. All the malice she felt towards the creature, for its heinous crime against Caldarion, kept her strong, did not allow her to falter. With a final wail, the giant pile of twisting, melting rubble, still holding the Balrog, fell through the Chasm, leaving only the resonating echo of its last cry.
Nimoë staggered, exhausted by the power that she had used in the last minutes. She would have fallen, but Legolas was there, holding her firm against his own body, letting her focus all of her strength on what needed to be done, rather than such sundry things as standing.
A rush of love and tenderness swept over her, and she took heart from it. Her husband would never desert her. Or their child. Their child! The idea of it took her breath away, leaving her in awe and wonder.
Never had she known such fear as when Morgoth had made known to her his plan. Within her mind he showed her a vision of herself, swollen with child. She was still within the cavern, still suspended by the great Hand of Morgoth. Then, as she watched the vision unfold, her body began swelling still further, the Dark Lord's own seed growing to full form within her tiny body. As it grew, so fast, so very fast, it began to tear at her from the inside, eating away at her body, using it for sustenance, like a spider consumes its mother, until, only a few minutes after it had begun to grow, she had ceased to exist, and Morgoth was all that remained, fully formed and vital in his power.
And there was nothing she could do to stop him. Her body had shivered with the sensation of evil entering into her womb, and the wrenching, stabbing pain that went with it. She tried to scream, but her mind was not her own. Then, when death had seemed inevitable, the cold worm invading her body had recoiled, falling away from her, and the voice of Morgoth screamed in her mind, A CHILD! IT CANNOT BE!
There was hardly time to breathe, to think, but she understood what had happened. When she and Legolas had joined together, they had managed to create new life. That one time had been enough. Enough to block Morgoth's return, at least momentarily. He could not implant himself within her, for her own child barred the way. Too much of him was invested in controlling both herself and Caldarion, as well as holding the others captive, for him to kill the tiny fetus that lay, in all its innocence, between himself and his goal. He would have to drop one thing for a moment, and use that moment to attack the babe.
That moment was all that was needed. The next thing she knew, her mind was again her own and she was plummeting to the earth. As she struck the hard ground, the force of her landing knocked her into unconsciousness.
As she stood now, leaning her weight on Legolas, her thoughts swirled around the new life dwelling within her. It was too early to feel any signs of its presence, but if she looked with her mind's eye, she could only wonder how she had remained in ignorance. I must succeed. It is the only way to guarantee my child's safety.
Suddenly she understood the impulse that had led Mendiel, her second birth mother, to sacrifice herself to save the child that Nimoë had once been. There was no stronger love than that of a mother for her child. Reaching deep into the pool of power that love had built within her, Nimoë again gave voice to song. Not for revenge. Not for power. Only for the love of her child, the love of her husband, the love of her world. This song came straight from her heart, undiluted by contaminated thought. Pure, unadulterated love.
And the Chasm began to mend. The gaping, torn edges in the physical plane creaked towards each other, mirrored by the invisible, yet tangible, fabric of space and time. Instinctively, Nimoë knew that had she approached this task in any other way, she would have failed. The Chasm was built of hatred and fear. Nothing but its antithesis would serve to seal it shut.
Orodruin trembled violently, reacting to the shifting forces within it, like a great beast with acute indigestion. Legolas managed to hold her steady, but she knew that she had to finish quickly, or they would be trapped when the great fire mountain expelled its pent up evil.
Near to fainting from exhaustion, Nimoë forced herself to continue, sagging against her husband, who held her firmly, murmuring reassurances in her ear. "I love you, Nimoë. I love you in this world and the next. I love you forever, through life and through death. We are one."
More than you know, dear heart, she thought in the confines of her mind. More than you know.
At last, the ragged edges of the Chasm touched. There was only a moment for Nimoë to notice that she had succeeded, and then a resounding explosion rumbled through the mountain.
"Legolas, now!" cried Gilmin.
Nimoë struggled to stand alone, to flee, but her legs failed her.
Not wasting a moment, Legolas picked her up and threw her unceremoniously over his shoulder. It was uncomfortable for her, but he would be able to run faster than if he held her in front of him. Nimoë struggled to keep her eyes open, to remain conscious, but it was a losing battle. The last thing she saw was a haze of scalding steam bursting up from a new rent in the floor of the tunnel to their left. The old lava tube was about to resume its original purpose.
Author's Note: SO sorry about the long wait. Did I say that things would be calming down? My bad. I had an audition tape due yesterday and at the last minute I discovered that I had not recorded enough music. So I had to scramble to get more recording time, find music, get accompaniment, and get it all done in one week. Note to self: DO NOT PROCRASTINATE! ALWAYS TIME MUSIC AHEAD OF TIME!!!
Okay, I feel a little better now.
Anyway, the tape is done and sent, and this time things really should be calming down. Look for the next chapter hopefully within the next day.
