Author: Mirrordance
Title: The Plague
Summary: The Fellowship must reunite to save Middle-Earth again when Pippin unwittingly finds the legendary Pandora's box and opens it, releasing great evil upon the lands…
PART 7: "The Deeps of Moria"
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The Deeps of Moria
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Moria was as all-encompassing-ly bleak and at the same time grossly fascinating as it had been the first time they walked through it, and most likely all the other times they would return, if ever they found need or inclination to in the future.
The cavernous halls still held their hallowed, hushed, ghostly reverence, and the darkness seemed liquid and pliant, smothering their little light.
After breaking through the rubble at the west gate, they had come upon the same wide, two-hundred-step-long staircase as before, leading to a long, level hall that did not seem to end.
Gandalf, as before, held the lead with his staff dimly glowing. Also like before, Gimli trailed close by him, perhaps by instinct, perhaps in remembrance. Gimli was followed by Legolas, who moved alongside the old soldier Triste, as well as Merry. Behind them were Jullian and Faramir with Frodo and Sam, the soldiers bearing torches. Holding the rear guard were the twins and Aragorn.
"It is always night here," Merry said softly to Legolas, "Do you ever try to think about what it must have been like before, though? All these dwarves and elves in splendor, trade flourishing, these vast halls glowing with these beautiful burning lamps. Do you ever think about it?"
"No," Legolas replied quietly after a moment, "Because if you start thinking about that, they all seem like sad ghosts unknowingly headed for an inevitably destroyed fate."
"I wish you had not said the g-word," Merry chastised, shivering, suddenly finding that it was sad, and undoubtedly scary, to think about who once walked these splendid halls, and whose ghosts stalked it vindictively, or with great loss and longing.
They traveled quietly for a time, Moria was hopelessly smothering, killing the light, halting sounds, stretching time in its infinite space and darkness.
'It is always night here,' Merry had said, and indeed it was.
"Something stalks us," Elrohir said to Aragorn quietly, "They have been doing so for quite some time now."
"As before," affirmed Aragorn, "you hear the pattering, busy feet and feel the eyes of goblins and whichever forces lie in this infernal dark. The shadows appear at the corners of your eyes, then vanish into whichever depths lie here and there."
"Yet they do not attack us," said Elladan, "It is as if they are waiting to see what business we have in their realm."
"They are no longer servants of the Dark Lord," Aragorn said, "Now they only consider this their home, their retreat. They would follow us with caution, and hang back until they are certain of what we want."
"I do not find myself very comfortable with that," Elrohir admitted.
"Nor do I," said Aragorn, "But you must believe me, it is far better than if they came out of the dark and attacked us."
For endless hours they labored. The paths were long and dim at best, and the floor was peppered by gaps and holes from neglect. They went from one cavernous hall to another, passed through glaringly, contrastingly narrow passages and meandering ways. They moved without stopping, willing to be in and out in the quickest way possible.
At last, they arrived at a hall that ended in three paths. The fellowship of the ring had stopped here before, when Gandalf had been wondering to which path they must go. The three paths were arched, and distinctly different. The one to the left had stairs that led downward. The one in the middle was level ground. The one on the far right moved upward. This was the path the fellowship of the ring had taken, and it led to the bridge of Khazad-dum and ultimately, the East Gate. This time around, they would surely not take this path.
The company paused before the fork, as if they even had to ponder where to go. The treasuries were in the deepest spaces of Moria, and the left-most path, because it plunged downward, must lead them to it. Yet they all looked to Gandalf with some uncertainty.
"Near here lies the grave of Balin," said Gimli, "And the last stand of the dwarves in Moria."
Legolas patted his friends arm, knowing the dwarf's return would also cost him the grief of remembrance.
"Let the dead lie," Legolas said softly.
"I know, elf," said Gimli gruffly, his tone harsh though Legolas knew him enough to know better than to take any offense.
"We take the left path," Gandalf said, "And I find we must stay here awhile, and gather our strength."
"Yes," agreed Aragorn, "We have traveled much and without rest. If the deeps are as perilous as the legends tell, we must be as strong as we could to face it."
* * *
They ate quickly, and bedded down for a few hours. Though it was not restful, for the gnawing dark of the left-most passage seemed to mock them, and all at once call upon them.
"What evils could are there in the deeps, Gandalf?" Sam asked the wizard softly, both being on first watch with the elf Elrohir.
"Even I could not speak of them," Gandalf admitted, "I only hear that it is a foul place."
"Perhaps because none who had gone down lived to tell their hideous tale," Elrohir pointed out.
This gripped Sam's heart with fear, but it has never stopped him before. "Then we will be the first."
Elrohir looked at him approvingly, with admiration, "Yes, Master Sam. To add to your already long-list of heroics and achievements."
Sam reddened in embarrassment. "And yet sometimes, I wish that my life were just like any other's. Back to the ol' Shire, without much care, certainly without trouble. And yet if I hadn't done the things I found I've had to do, I'm afraid I couldn't have known such friends as you, or known myself very well, for that matter."
"Adversity shows you who you really are," agreed Gandalf, "We all see the stuff we are made of."
"And what stuff!" exclaimed Sam, "Like Aragorn, for instance. He is practically made of mithril!"
"Pipe down, Sam," Elrohir told him softly, "Estel almost has the ears of an elf, even in sleep. You might awaken him."
"Sorry," the hobbit murmured, "So uh… with your elf ears, what have you been hearing in the darkness?"
"Goblins," replied Elrohir, "yet they do not attack us. Just now, I've heard their snickering. It almost makes me feel as if they've decided not to bother with us, let the deeps claim us. They laugh at our ambition."
"Do you think they know what is down there?" Sam asked.
"Perhaps they've lost some of their kind to the deeps," Elrohir replied, "I cannot know. They will be watchful of us, but they will let us do as we please, for now."
"I don't know if this is a good thing," Sam admitted, "The deeps must be horrendous indeed if even the devils of Moria stay away from it, and laugh at us when we desire to go there."
"At least they leave us alone," Elrohir pointed out, "This is one more chance to see what else we are made of."
* * *
They had taken the left passage, and though it had already seemed impossible for Moria to be even darker, the passage certainly was. It was the blackest black, and the range of the torches had been smaller, and the company held closely to each other. The air was dank and chilled, and the torches offered them little light or warmth.
The passage went downwards seemingly endlessly, the stairway narrow and steep, twisting and curving. Once in awhile, they would come upon arched passages lining the stairway, long corridors that were so long and dark, none of them could really see by their poor light where it led.
They moved downwards for hours on end, the company tired, their nerves fraught. They knew they had gone truly deep when the walls turned dripped and ran with water, indicating that they had perhaps reachedthe levels of Moria beneath rivers and lakes. This insistent dripping made the steps slicker, their journey all the more difficult as their boots slipped and slid, and once in awhile, a member of the company finds the need to grab at another's arm to regain balance.
The more sensitive members of the company, like the elves, knew also that they had gone very very deep when the whispers and pattering feet of the goblins gradually stilled and vanished altogether. They were no longer being watched, or followed. This was all at once a relief and an indication of greater danger.
The company rounded a corner, and Gandalf, at the head of the pack, suddenly stopped.
"Gandalf?" Frodo inquired from near the back.
"We have reached the end of the stairway," Gandalf replied, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was looking at something with great reverence, "We have reached the treasury."
The stairway had indeed ended, and the company moved forward to find an arched room, that was entirely open on one side, though it was too dark to see what lay there. The chamber had smaller arched openings on its left and right walls, leading probably to similar rooms.
They headed for the wide opening, and Gandalf stopped upon its edge. Curiously, water lapped at his feet at the edge of the room.
"Behold," he said softly, and he raised his staff higher and let its powerful glow light the abyss.
Not even the elves, for all of their great crafts could keep from catching their breath. Not even Aragorn, for all of his worldliness. Not even Gimli, who has seen many a cave before.
The sight before them was a wonder. The arched chamber they were in seemed to be but one of many that lined a wide, circular pool of the clearest water any of them had ever seen. The rock-ceiling over the pool was wide and high.
"This is beautiful," Sam marveled.
"But if this is the untouched treasury," pointed out Merry, "Where is all the treasure?"
"Down there," Frodo nodded towards the water.
They all turned towards the clear water. It seems that the water level used to be much lower, for submerged in the water were at least five floors of circularly-arranged arched chambers much like the one they were in. Gandalf's staff's light made twinkling little reflections from beneath the water; there was gold and silver down upon those chambers!
Aragorn squatted before the water's edge, touching it tentatively. "I've never seen water so unclouded," he said as he looked upon it. The water was so clear they had an idea of just how deep it was, and it seemed to go on and on and on down below, until their sight ended in an abyss that the light could no longer reach.
"Or so deep," murmured Elladan, "Even in water so clear, one could not even see the bottom, because it goes so far that the light could no longer reach it."
"But this brings me hope," said Elrohir, "These treasures are definitely untouched. If the box was ever here, it most definitely still is."
"We search the chambers floor by floor," said Aragorn, "And in shifts."
"I wish to go in the first," Elrohir said, his eyes twinkling, "I could not wait to see what marvelous little secrets the treasuries of Moria hold."
"Me too," said Elladan.
"Elrohir, Faramir, Jullian and myself will go first," Aragorn decided, "then Legolas, Triste and Elladan," he noted the disappointed look in the latter, and switched his tongue to Elvish, ~I do not trust this water, brother. I do not want you and Elrohir there at the same time. I would not want ada to lose you both at the same time, if something should happen.~
"I wish I were as strong as you in the water," Gimli grumbled, "And yet I'm afraid we dwarves are not properly built for such things."
"The same goes with hobbits," said Merry.
"We all help in the best ways we can," Gandalf said soothingly.
"Let us begin," Aragorn said.
* * *
Along their journey through Moria, Gandalf had lit their way by a dim glow of his staff. Apparently, he had been saving up his energy to better light the search upon the treasury, and he sat by the edge of the water with his staff aloft, focusing his strength for the long rummaging ahead of them.
The hobbits and Gimli had searched the floor they were in, moving from one chamber to another that surrounded the deep pool. There were no treasures here. They also found a stairwell that led to the lower chambers, but this too was flooded. The first search party had preferred to just jump in the pool and swim to the chambers directly below, instead of going through the narrow stairwells.
The hobbits had a fire going after their fruitless searching, and the remains of the group sat about it, though their minds were distracted by their friends beneath the water, rising up to take gulps of air every few minutes in hurried gasping. The longer their search, the more tired they became, and the more breaths they took.
At last, the four searchers had emerged from the water and swam towards the chamber, completing their area without luck, though certainly with some spoils.
Elrohir, Aragorn, Faramir and Jullian triumphantly eased themselves off the pool and onto the level ground of the chamber, and the hobbits and the others gave them space by the fire. The water had been cold, and they had been in it for more than an hour.
"Look," Elrohir said to the company, drawing a pair of swords he had brought with him from the submerged chambers, "Swords of mithril."
"Those are not yours to take!" snapped Gimli, "such treasures belong to the dwarves!"
"Those dwarves are dead," said Elrohir, "And if we do not want to soon follow in their wake, we must make use of the goods that we find."
"What other treasures lie there?" Frodo asked, cutting into an argument he was sure would follow.
"More mithril than I've ever seen in any one place, or probably even in all the places I've ever seen in my life," replied Aragorn, "Jewels, gold and silver in all shapes and sizes. So much treasure, and yet not the one we seek."
"Does anyone think this search has been easy so far?" Faramir asked, stretching his arms towards the warmth of the fire.
"Hardly!" exclaimed Merry.
"I meant that here, in the deeps of Moria," clarified Faramir, "We entered this chamber with no resistance. This pool is so clear you could see any threats that may approach, and it seems empty… what did anyone who had ever deigned from looting this place fear?"
"Let's hope we do not find out," Elladan said, as he shed his coats and outer tunic near the edge of the water. Beside him, Triste and Legolas were doing the same.
One by one, the three of them dived into the water, and headed for the second submerged floor of treasure chambers.
* * *
Triste was a strong man, and a respected soldier. But he did not have the resilience of the elves he had dived with, and had to come up for air more quickly.
About an hour into their search, his head broke the surface of the pool for the nth time, and after taking a couple of breaths, he braced his body for a dive, and plunged head-first back into the water. Looking straight down, he could not help but marvel at its clarity and depth, and the deeper it went, the less he could see through it, for it went so deep the light could no longer reach below. The deepest parts were a black abyss, and he almost choked on water when he caught his breath in surprise at the sight of strange, glowing flickering figures in the dark parts.
His eyes widened and he watched in shock, as the glowing figure seemed to come closer and closer, become larger and larger the closer it came…
Paddling frantically back up to the surface, he breathlessly exclaimed, "There's something in the water! There's something in the water!"
* * *
The company who had been resting by the fire anxiously got to their feet, some readying their weapons as others motioned for Triste to come ashore, waving him back to the level ground, as they yelled for Legolas and Elladan to get out of the water.
* * *
Elladan's eyes danced through the wonders that these treasuries held. Such riches as were hidden here beneath the water with invaluable and rare, and undoubtedly beautiful. The mithri swords Elrohir had raised up to the surface were the least of these treasures! Other pieces were uselessly opulent, others entrancing and whimsical, and there were more decorative and lethal weapons.
From chamber to chamber he went, regretting each time he had to raise his head to take a breath, always eager to plunge back into the wonder in the water. It was not so much the value or beauty of such things; he was an elf and knew beauty and value of his own kin, but it was the history of these treasures, their ghostly, legendary presence come alive, like a pirate or ghost story.
Upon his nth chamber, his eyes rest on a box that seemed to call upon him. It was gold and jeweled, and tucked into a corner near treasures that it outshone.
Pandora…
Grinning, he pushed his legs and swam towards it, reaching his arms out for the object of their quest eagerly.
* * *
"Elladan!" Aragorn screamed, "Legolas! Get out of the water!"
But it was glaringly obvious that the elves beneath the pool could not hear them. As Triste was helped out of the pool by Jullian and Faramir, Aragorn jumped into the water and dived to look for his friends.
Elrohir held his ground at the edge of the pool and readied his bow to cover Aragorn, studying the water carefully, looking down. There indeed were flickering, glowing figures that were swiftly rising from the darkness below. But suddenly, just when Elrohir thought they would move up to the lighted parts of the water and be completely seen, they had all but vanished.
"It's gone," Elrohir said breathlessly, disbelieving his eyes, "There was a glowing flickering that was rising from the water, like some strange beast. Suddenly, as it moved up to the light, it vanished!"
There was a momentary hush, as the company held their breaths to see what dire fate these mines would next offer them. The silence was broken by Elladan, raising his head from the surface of the water, Pandora's box clutched in his hand.
"Look what I found!" he exclaimed happily.
"Get out of the water!" Elrohir yelled to his brother.
Elladan looked momentarily stunned, then his face suddenly looked horrified when an unseen force pulled him underwater.
"Elladan!" Elrohir yelled, his eyes looking at the water wildly for whatever had grabbed his brother, "I see nothing!"
Aragorn's and Legolas's heads broke the surface of the water.
"It took Elladan!" Sam yelled.
Faramir tossed Legolas and Aragorn the light but lethally sharp mithril blades, which the two warriors caught smoothly, just before they dived into the water.
Elrohir and Jullian made ready to do the same, until Triste told them, "Wait and see what it is first before foolishly putting yourselves in peril as well!"
"I can't just stand here and watch!" snapped Elrohir.
"Shut your light, Gandalf!" Frodo said softly. The wizard looked at him as if he were mad. "We saw the creature coming towards us when it was dark. Maybe we could not see it in the light."
"Yes, Gandalf!" agreed Merry, "I've heard legends of water beasts that live so deep in the sea they could not be reached by the sun, and their bodies glow by themselves!"
It was worth a try; Gandalf's staff gradually dimmed, and also gradually, they found themselves looking at a large, glowing beast with many large tentacles. Several such tentacles were grasping a writhing Elladan under the water.
"No!" exclaimed Elrohir, pointing his bow downward and aiming at what looked to be the beast's head. He fired three arrows in succession. The beast screeched, its grips tightened and its other tentacles thrashed about the water, creating a wild splashing. Elrohir watched in horror as his brother's figure slackened, and stopped resisting.
"Nooooo!"
* * *
Aragorn and Legolas were underwater when the light from Gandalf's staff dimmed, and they saw at last what they were up against.
Dodging the beast's tentacles under the water, the pair swam towards its head, wielding their swords. It was at this time that they saw Elladan, limp in the embrace of a tentacle. From his hand slipped a golden box that steadily made its descent down into the water's deep eternity.
Their eyes meeting as they came upon a silent understanding; That can only be one thing…
Aragorn raised his sword to free Elladan, as Legolas dived in pursuit of the falling box, following its fading glint into the darkness.
* * *
The beast's wild thrashings only worsened when it lost its prey. Fighting the splashing and dodging the tentacles that moved about wildly in the water, Aragorn dragged Elladan's limp body with him as he swam to where his companions were. Elrohir was vindictively releasing arrow after arrow, and the hobbits were throwing stones at the beast, their aim often true.
By now, the wild thrashings of the beast were shaking the chambers, and large and small chunks of the roof was starting to fall.
Triste and Faramir pulled Aragorn and Elladan from the water. The elf was limp, and his eyes were closed. Elrohir fell to his knees beside his ashen brother.
~Elladan,~ Aragorn called to him, ~Open your eyes. Do not do this to us, or to your brother,~ to his companions, he said reassuringly, "He just needs air. He may have taken in some water."
Fisting his left hand and securing it with his right, he braced them against Elladan's chest, and pushed them forward, willing to expel the water from the elf's lungs. He did this for a few moments, until the elf's body shuddered, and he coughed out water. Aragorn turned him to his side, and stood up as he let Elrohir take care of him from there.
"Legolas is still in the water," he said, watching the beast as it struggled with its life and its pain, its tentacles making storming waves in the water, and stretching out to the walls, breaking them and shaking the treasuries to its core.
"The… box…" Elladan coughed.
"You found it?" Gandalf exclaimed.
"It fell," Aragorn said, studying the water and thinking about how best to return to it, "Legolas went after it. I wish this beast would just lie still!"
Grabbing his sword, he dived into the water to his soldiers' great dismay.
"Sire!" exclaimed Jullian.
Elrohir handed him the quiver Legolas had left when he began his dive, "You can best help him this way. That is, you can you shoot, couldn't you?"
"Of course," said Jullian.
"Then get to it," the elf told him,
bearing his own bow.
* * *
Legolas's lungs were ready to burst, as he swam deeper and deeper into the water, that became colder and colder and darker and darker. The glinting of the gold box was fading, just like his strength, and his hope.
His arms stretched eagerly for it, and he always missed it by a sacred breath.
It was getting dark, now. Too dark. He could barely see the box as it fell below him.
If you are even still there at all, he thought despairingly, fearing perhaps his eyes had already failed him, he was seeing things, the box had long since dropped, it's a ghost, you're as good as a ghost yourself.
I'm going to die, he thought miserably and hatefully, in this cursed place of the dwarves, in the darkest spaces of an already dreadful cave, trying to grasp a box with all of its problems and promises, none of which are my own.
Let go, now…
Leave it.
It's too dark.
It's too cold.
It's not your problem.
Let it fall into darkness.
Let yourself fall—
No.
The moment his mind said it, strength seemed to fill him.
No!
He would not break his promise to Estel, or violate his duty to this Earth and all his friends here. He would not lose himself—at least, not now, not here, when choices only he could make decided the fate of the world.
Just let me take this to Estel, he prayed and swore fervently, Just let me yield this to them. And then you, black plague, can have your way with me…
Pushing himself forward, his fingers brushed the box once, twice, then gripped them, gripped them violently and longingly. He poured the last of his hopes into his reach, and securing the box in his arms, he propelled himself up to the surface.
* * *
As it died, the beast's glowing body paled and dimmed, and plunged the caves into darkness once again. When Gandalf lit the cavernous room with his staff, it was a royal mess, and would be even more of one; the beast may have stilled at last, but Moria did not. It was disturbed, and shaken by the beast's wild last struggles that its rocks fell from its cavernous roofs, and its ground cracked.
"We have to leave," Sam said urgently.
Aragorn was wading in the water, tossing his head from side to side. "Legolas! Legolas!"
The elf emerged some meters away from him, breaking to the surface with gasps and coughs. Aragorn swam towards him, and pulled him towards the company.
Both of them were dragged up to the chamber, breathless and exhausted. The ground shook beneath them, prodding them to hurry.
"Sam is correct," Gandalf said, "Gather your feet, my friends. Our journey is near its end."
The idea that their stay in Moria would end as soon as they walk out of there was more than encouraging enough.
Elladan supported by his brother, and Legolas and Aragorn rising, the group hurriedly ran for the stairs, and ran up along its seemingly infinite length, tired and breathless, and eager to just leave.
TO BE CONCLUDED IN THE LAST PART OF "THE PLAGUE,"
PART 8, "Redemption"
PREVIEW OF PART 8:
Now armed with Pandora's Box, the hunt for the plague begins, and Aragorn and his company try to beat the hour before the orcs attack the virtually defenseless Rohan.