Random Orcs, or We Fell to Middle Earth
Chapter Four: Perilous Journey
by Galadriel Tolkien
Pippin found me strapping the last of my knives on. "They seem to be winding down, Lady Rainbow."
"Thanks." I grinned and followed him, the blackness of the mail contrasting with the pastel of Rivendell. The hobbits had dubbed me Lady Rainbow after seeing me in sunlight, with my hair down to my waist. It was every colour of the rainbow, including black and white. And it shimmered in good light. They'd been entranced about that, and highly amused when I objected to the name at first. I was resigned to it, now.
We found Merry standing behind the door that led into the garden. Men, elves and dwarves were all standing, staring at Frodo. A moment later, Aragorn and Gandalf joined him. Then Boromir and Legolas did. From the bushes behind them, Sam came dashing out to proclaim loudly that HE was going, too.
"Eh." hissed Pippin, "They're going to forget us!"
And he and Merry dashed out down the path, to the consternation of Elrond. I followed behind them at a more leisurely pace, and came into the clearing as Elrond proclaimed, "Nine of you comprise this Fellowship of the Ring. Nine stalwart companions, against Nine Riders."
I chuckled, "I'm all for numerology and symbolism, but you're off by one. The Fellowship will comprise ten."
The sunlight caused my hair to glint in all its multi-coloured glory. The mail was a glittering black masterpiece, coating my body and emphasizing every curve. The sword that hung at my hip had seen many a battle. I presented a striking figure next to all of these men who stood in cloaks and pale colours, and I knew it.
Elrond blinked at me, "I do not know why you have come, but I think that you should not go with the Fellowship."
"Let me guess: lots of pain, terror, walking, eating only a little, and possible death at the end." I chuckled, "My dear sir, I have seen far worse. I am going."
"She is a good companion for battle." Legolas spoke up, "I have seen her in action, my Lord."
"And she is an enchantress as well, I see." Elrond smiled at me. "Very well, you shall go with them. For before all, I name you Marya Luthien, elf-friend and member of the Fellowship of the Ring."
I bowed the most intricate court-bow I knew, "My thanks, Lord Elrond. Your faith shall not be misplaced."
"And now, if the Fellowship would retire and begin packing for the journey, we will make up provisions for you." Elrond clapped his hands and the Council disbanded, the many peoples going off to help prepare for the Quest. He turned to me, an eyebrow raised, "We must see about finding you appropriate outer garments."
"Green or black trews, tunic and cloak would be fine." I replied, following him as he left the small patio. "A dress would merely slow me down, and that's not why I'm going."
"I'm sure we can find clothing in your size." He glanced at the mail and blinked, "I am highly puzzled by the substance you're now wearing."
"It's a form of mail." I answered. "Useful against sword blows and such."
"Ah." He turned a corner, "Let's get you provisioned."
--
My last night in Rivendell. And I had nightmares.
I awoke, nearly screaming, and lay panting in the dark for a long time, trying desperately to sort out what I'd seen. Massive death and destruction, and the Dark Lord triumphant.
And something else. Something I had seen long ago, and felt again as I entered the Council.
The ring.
Glittering and gold, tempting and perilous. As I thought of it, whispers began echoing in my mind, and I realised what the dreams had been about.
Portents and visions of the ring. The futures IT wanted. What it saw as it triumphed over every living creature.
With a shudder, I began weaving a shield. It would have to be carefully dense and thick, so as to absorb the whispers that insinuated themselves so temptingly into the mind.
And I wasn't even sure it would work for all of the Fellowship.
I just had to hope.
--
Once provisioned, the Fellowship set out on the journey south. We spent our days walking and our nights companionably sleeping in the stillness of an open land. I had found green and black pants and a grey tunic which blended me into the area around. Legolas had retrieved his own bow, as well as getting one for me. Aragorn had one of his own. We were as well armed as we could be, for now. Even Gandalf carried a sword, calling it Glamdring.
The other members of the company were slightly unsure of me, especially Gimli, the dwarf. His stolid presence and sense of humour usually grated on me, but I bore it, knowing we needed him. Aragorn merely watched me occasionally, when he thought I wasn't looking. Even with Gandalf's reassurances, he was certain I would provide the ruin of this company. Frodo and Sam fell in with my wit as Merry and Pippin had; even in the bleak wilderness, the laughter of hobbits could be heard merrily echoing into the distance. It was a good thing, I think, though Gandalf tended to mutter darkly about it.
We ignored him.
Boromir, I tried not to touch, knowing from more vivid dreams that his death would occur at some point in the near future. I could not tell him, since to do so might make it worse. Besides, who wants to know when they're going to die?
One afternoon we were sprawled about a large fall of stones, cheerfully engaged in various tasks. Boromir was showing Merry and Pippin some passes with their small swords, Gandalf was smoking in contemplation of the journey ahead, and I was perched on the highest rock, cross legged and enjoying the breeze and sunlight.
I heard a call from Legolas, and cracked an eye. To the south, something was coming, a dark shadow that moved swift and sure. "Damn." I hopped off the rock and got under cover as the rest were scrambling to do. I ended up curled next to Gandalf, my face very near to his.
The crows passed over us, their calls high and piercing. I lay there, intent on not doing something I would later regret. After all, just because Gandalf was virile and intelligent and charming and amusing didn't mean he'd welcome my advances.
Well, he probably wouldn't.
"Oh, to hell with caution," I muttered as the crows continued flying around our position. I leaned forward and gently kissed him.
For a moment, he seemed startled, then his lips took over, kissing me back. For a moment. Then Pippin hopped over the brush.
"They're gone, Gandalf!" He cried, then he paused, staring at us as I hastily drew back, trying to pretend nothing had occurred. "Strider says they're watching the south."
"Hrm. Yes." Gandalf stood, "We shall make for the pass of Caradhras! I only hope it isn't closed to us," he muttered.
For the rest of the day, I kept to rear guard, avoiding Gandalf as much as humanly possible. He did the same, leading at the front. I don't think the others noticed, except Aragorn and Frodo, and both of them had the decency to be silent on the matter. I caught Pippin looking at me oddly once or twice, but chalked it up to my occasional tuneless whistling.
That night we camped in a small hollow, and Pippin and I drew first watch together. I stood on the edge of camp, listening and watching quietly.
Pippin waited until he was sure the others were asleep, then tapped me on the arm. I knelt down, "Yes?"
"You were kissing Gandalf," he whispered.
"To my folly, I find him attractive." I sighed, "It must be the wizardness. Or maybe the sword. Ah, lust, thy name is irritation."
He chuckled, "If it helps any, I have caught him looking at you with the most peculiar expression."
"Probably wonders how to get rid of me easily."
"I think he's wondering what you see in him. After all, he is an old man."
"Seasoned. And age means lots of experience." I grinned a bit salaciously. "I should know, I'm nearing..." I paused, trying to recall. "Almost two thousand, I think."
His eyes rounded in the moonlight, "You're that old?"
"I'm very well-preserved." I sighed. "Go to sleep, Pippin."
For a moment I thought he'd object, pointing out that we had set two to a watch on purpose. Then he seemed to sense my weariness and nodded, curling up in his cloak. Soon the only sound I could hear was the vague snores of the Fellowship.
I let the darkness fold around me, dropping into a light trance and setting wards that would be undetectable by even Gandalf if he'd been standing on one while wide awake. The night slowly turned, the stars dancing in the heavens as my friends slept. Friends? They felt like friends, in a way. I was willing to lay my life down for them all. For this quest to succeed. Others hadn't, this would make up for them.
As dawn lit the tips of the mountains, I stirred, sliding back into firm reality. I felt rested, as if I'd slept the night through rather than stood guard over people who barely knew me. I wondered if my sleep would have been plagued with nightmares and portents.
Probably. Fate isn't fond of me.
Aragorn awoke and scrambled to his feet, puzzled at the lightness of the air. "You did not wake me for my shift."
"I felt no need to." With a twist of my shoulders, I began moving, waking my stiff muscles and bones.
"You haven't slept."
"I am nearly refreshed." I yawned in reflex, my ears clearing. "I think it's time for breakfast."
He chuckled. "You've been talking to Pippin too much."
I smiled at the sleeping hobbit fondly, "Probably."
--
We traveled up the mountain, buffeted by wind and then snow. It was hard going for all of us, even Legolas. It was beautiful country, though, and had I the time, I would have enjoyed it immensely. Instead, I began to loathe it as the snow got deeper and the paths steeper. Bill the pony kept up only by dint of Sam's coaxing.
I kept the rear-guard, avoiding Gandalf and Boromir both in one fell swoop. Pippin was my ever-faithful companion, amusing me with stories of the Shire and the hobbits' journey to Rivendell. I also employed what I could to muddy our trail. Legolas, Aragorn and Gandalf left very little trail, but Boromir, Gimli and four hobbits, try though they might, left enough for us to be found easily.
Muddying the trail was something I had picked up centuries before. It was useful when you didn't want to be found.
Aragorn watched me at work and seemed to approve of my methods.
When it began to snow, I noticed that Legolas walked lightly on the crust of it. I could have done that, but didn't want to waste the time.
As the snow got deeper, the way was more treacherous. We began to spread out, Gandalf away in the lead with Merry leading Bill and Gimli close behind. Then Pippin and Sam, with Boromir behind them. And Frodo and Aragorn in front of me. It seemed to work well, until Frodo slipped and slid down one perilous slope.
Aragorn quickly caught him, steadying them both for a moment. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Boromir turned to see what the commotion had been about, and I suddenly realised Frodo had lost the ring on its chain to the snow. It lay in the sun, glittering goldly up at the Gondorman. He stared at it for a moment, then bent over and picked it up.
A tension went through Aragorn as Boromir stood there, his eyes dark with dreams. I moved to the side, in preparation of a strike.
"Give Frodo the ring, Boromir."
"It's such a little thing," he whispered in reply, his eyes shining oddly. Then he seemed to shake himself, and laughed. He came closer and handed the ring to Frodo. "Keep this safe, lad."
Without another comment, he moved back up the path, struggling through the snow. In front of me, Aragorn relaxed and released the pommel of Anduril. He set Frodo on his feet. "Let's go on."
I stood there for a time, pondering what I had seen. And shivering, for I knew Boromir had a larger part to play. I couldn't just kill him, sadly.
--
Bill the pony hated Caradhras. Which was OK, because the mountain hated all of us. Halfway to the pass with a sheer drop on our left, and high wall of snow to our right, we finally turned back. Not after a fight, of course. But Saruman had cast spells against us and caused an avalanche that buried us under feet of snow.
It was one of the things I hadn't warded us against. Physical attack. In the form of orcs or goblins, we'd've been fine. But Saruman must have known the route we would take in the mountains, and been watching.
I dug myself from the drift and sent a quick blast of magic down the path Saruman's spells had come from. It splashed against well-made shields, but gave the newly proclaimed Mage of Many Colours something to think about.
While I had been striking backwards along the trail, a conversation had begun among my companions. It was quickly decided to go back the way we'd come. This was too dangerous, there were too many chances for us to fall to our deaths.
We would travel though the Mines of Moria.
Gimli was ecstatic, proclaiming his glee that his cousin Balin would feast us and throw huge parties, and make our journey through Moria as a vacation.
But I saw Gandalf's eyes for a moment, and I worried that this was the wrong choice.
--
Nearly a week was lost in trying the pass of the Redhorn Gate at Caradhras. Luckily, the entrance to Moria was only half a day's journey from that snow-covered mountainside.
As we approached, Gandalf was startled to find a lake inhabiting the valley he claimed should have been there. The lake filled the entire bowl, far in the distance we could see the 'gates' of Moria, huge black slabs of stone that rose into the mountain above. We skirted the northern edge of the lake, and I realised as we slipped and squelched along that something wanted no comers to Moria.
We reached the gates a little before sunset. Up close, the walls were intricately carved, almost seamless in their grandeur. Unfortunately, there was no way of telling how to get in.
Gandalf suddenly chuckled, "We must wait for starlight."
And so a much needed rest was decreed. The hobbits cast themselves tiredly to the ground and I followed suit, stretching full-length on the rocky bank.
Boromir came to stand over me, "You're as odd as I'd heard."
"Thank you." My back finished unkinking, and I sighed happily.
"But isn't it difficult to fight an attacker from down there?"
I blinked up at him, then moved, shoving against the rocks with my shoulders as I whipped my legs up in a scissor-kick. I tapped his nose with one foot, then continued the roll, landing on my feet in a crouch. "Not really. If I'd wanted, I could have kicked your head off."
"You are..." He seemed at a loss for words.
"Odd. Yes. You said."
Gandalf called us all back together, then, and we beheld the starlight of Moria, as the inscriptions of the gates erupted into luminescence.
It was beautiful, wondrous, and many more lovely descriptive words. I was too tired to think. I left it to Gandalf and Frodo to puzzle out how the gates opened and went to help unload Bill.
The pony had faithfully held our baggage until now, and I was sad to lose him.
"The mines are no place for a pony, Sam." Aragorn was saying softly as I approached.
"He's right." I noted, swinging a pack to the side.
"Oh, I know. It just hurts having to say goodbye--and I'm that worried about him. Wolves and worse things are out there a-hunting for us."
I laid a hand against the pony's side for a moment, then smiled. "There. He's safe now, Sam."
"How do you figure that?"
"I've laid a spell to repel would-be carnivores on him. He should be fine all the way back to Rivendell and beyond."
"Gosh. You really are a Sorcerer, or a Wizard, like old Gandalf."
"Yes." I glanced at Aragorn. "But not a very powerful one. I've just been doing it for a long time."
The dark-haired man nodded and moved away to check on the others. He stopped Pippin from throwing stones into the lake, and a silent menace began registering at the edge of my senses. I pulled Sam closer to the others, helping to distribute the packs as Gandalf finally realised the riddle and opened the gates of Moria.
Gimli was the first into the dark gaping maw of the entrance, he cheerfully called over his shoulder as Gandalf followed him, "Once we've identified ourselves, my cousin Balin will be glad to see us!"
Aragorn and Boromir followed, with the hobbits behind them.
I followed last, careful. For a stench as of death and decay was assailing my nostrils, and I began to guess that not all had gone well for Balin and his stalwart dwarves. Moria and they had fallen long ago, and evil breathed in their place.
"It's a tomb!" Boromir gasped as the light from Gandalf's staff illuminated the pitiable remains of many dwarves and other creatures.
Moria was littered with the unburied dead, their bodies twisted as if pain had been their last thought. Many were unknown to me, and I guessed them to be orcs. I shivered and found Frodo at my side, backing out and away from the silent horror.
"We should never have come here," Boromir sniped.
I snorted, "We would not have survived Caradhras with Saruman dogging our every move."
He opened his mouth to reply, then shut it, angry that I was right and he unable to refute me.
And then Frodo cried out in alarm. I turned to find him being dragged back out the door, into the lake, a tentacle around his ankle.
"Aragorn! Boromir! Strider!" The remaining hobbits yelled in alarm.
I was moving, sword out as another tentacle grabbed Pippin. I sliced through it and the next three as Aragorn and Boromir entered the water after Frodo. By luck they retrieved him and I hacked another limb before Legolas called for me to duck. I did and he rained arrows on the hideous creature while we retreated into Moria.
For a moment, I thought us safe and then the body heaved itself out of the lake and came after us. The gates of Moria shattered and we ran, the roof falling behind us to bury the entrance and creature forever.
--
Chapter Four: Perilous Journey
by Galadriel Tolkien
Pippin found me strapping the last of my knives on. "They seem to be winding down, Lady Rainbow."
"Thanks." I grinned and followed him, the blackness of the mail contrasting with the pastel of Rivendell. The hobbits had dubbed me Lady Rainbow after seeing me in sunlight, with my hair down to my waist. It was every colour of the rainbow, including black and white. And it shimmered in good light. They'd been entranced about that, and highly amused when I objected to the name at first. I was resigned to it, now.
We found Merry standing behind the door that led into the garden. Men, elves and dwarves were all standing, staring at Frodo. A moment later, Aragorn and Gandalf joined him. Then Boromir and Legolas did. From the bushes behind them, Sam came dashing out to proclaim loudly that HE was going, too.
"Eh." hissed Pippin, "They're going to forget us!"
And he and Merry dashed out down the path, to the consternation of Elrond. I followed behind them at a more leisurely pace, and came into the clearing as Elrond proclaimed, "Nine of you comprise this Fellowship of the Ring. Nine stalwart companions, against Nine Riders."
I chuckled, "I'm all for numerology and symbolism, but you're off by one. The Fellowship will comprise ten."
The sunlight caused my hair to glint in all its multi-coloured glory. The mail was a glittering black masterpiece, coating my body and emphasizing every curve. The sword that hung at my hip had seen many a battle. I presented a striking figure next to all of these men who stood in cloaks and pale colours, and I knew it.
Elrond blinked at me, "I do not know why you have come, but I think that you should not go with the Fellowship."
"Let me guess: lots of pain, terror, walking, eating only a little, and possible death at the end." I chuckled, "My dear sir, I have seen far worse. I am going."
"She is a good companion for battle." Legolas spoke up, "I have seen her in action, my Lord."
"And she is an enchantress as well, I see." Elrond smiled at me. "Very well, you shall go with them. For before all, I name you Marya Luthien, elf-friend and member of the Fellowship of the Ring."
I bowed the most intricate court-bow I knew, "My thanks, Lord Elrond. Your faith shall not be misplaced."
"And now, if the Fellowship would retire and begin packing for the journey, we will make up provisions for you." Elrond clapped his hands and the Council disbanded, the many peoples going off to help prepare for the Quest. He turned to me, an eyebrow raised, "We must see about finding you appropriate outer garments."
"Green or black trews, tunic and cloak would be fine." I replied, following him as he left the small patio. "A dress would merely slow me down, and that's not why I'm going."
"I'm sure we can find clothing in your size." He glanced at the mail and blinked, "I am highly puzzled by the substance you're now wearing."
"It's a form of mail." I answered. "Useful against sword blows and such."
"Ah." He turned a corner, "Let's get you provisioned."
--
My last night in Rivendell. And I had nightmares.
I awoke, nearly screaming, and lay panting in the dark for a long time, trying desperately to sort out what I'd seen. Massive death and destruction, and the Dark Lord triumphant.
And something else. Something I had seen long ago, and felt again as I entered the Council.
The ring.
Glittering and gold, tempting and perilous. As I thought of it, whispers began echoing in my mind, and I realised what the dreams had been about.
Portents and visions of the ring. The futures IT wanted. What it saw as it triumphed over every living creature.
With a shudder, I began weaving a shield. It would have to be carefully dense and thick, so as to absorb the whispers that insinuated themselves so temptingly into the mind.
And I wasn't even sure it would work for all of the Fellowship.
I just had to hope.
--
Once provisioned, the Fellowship set out on the journey south. We spent our days walking and our nights companionably sleeping in the stillness of an open land. I had found green and black pants and a grey tunic which blended me into the area around. Legolas had retrieved his own bow, as well as getting one for me. Aragorn had one of his own. We were as well armed as we could be, for now. Even Gandalf carried a sword, calling it Glamdring.
The other members of the company were slightly unsure of me, especially Gimli, the dwarf. His stolid presence and sense of humour usually grated on me, but I bore it, knowing we needed him. Aragorn merely watched me occasionally, when he thought I wasn't looking. Even with Gandalf's reassurances, he was certain I would provide the ruin of this company. Frodo and Sam fell in with my wit as Merry and Pippin had; even in the bleak wilderness, the laughter of hobbits could be heard merrily echoing into the distance. It was a good thing, I think, though Gandalf tended to mutter darkly about it.
We ignored him.
Boromir, I tried not to touch, knowing from more vivid dreams that his death would occur at some point in the near future. I could not tell him, since to do so might make it worse. Besides, who wants to know when they're going to die?
One afternoon we were sprawled about a large fall of stones, cheerfully engaged in various tasks. Boromir was showing Merry and Pippin some passes with their small swords, Gandalf was smoking in contemplation of the journey ahead, and I was perched on the highest rock, cross legged and enjoying the breeze and sunlight.
I heard a call from Legolas, and cracked an eye. To the south, something was coming, a dark shadow that moved swift and sure. "Damn." I hopped off the rock and got under cover as the rest were scrambling to do. I ended up curled next to Gandalf, my face very near to his.
The crows passed over us, their calls high and piercing. I lay there, intent on not doing something I would later regret. After all, just because Gandalf was virile and intelligent and charming and amusing didn't mean he'd welcome my advances.
Well, he probably wouldn't.
"Oh, to hell with caution," I muttered as the crows continued flying around our position. I leaned forward and gently kissed him.
For a moment, he seemed startled, then his lips took over, kissing me back. For a moment. Then Pippin hopped over the brush.
"They're gone, Gandalf!" He cried, then he paused, staring at us as I hastily drew back, trying to pretend nothing had occurred. "Strider says they're watching the south."
"Hrm. Yes." Gandalf stood, "We shall make for the pass of Caradhras! I only hope it isn't closed to us," he muttered.
For the rest of the day, I kept to rear guard, avoiding Gandalf as much as humanly possible. He did the same, leading at the front. I don't think the others noticed, except Aragorn and Frodo, and both of them had the decency to be silent on the matter. I caught Pippin looking at me oddly once or twice, but chalked it up to my occasional tuneless whistling.
That night we camped in a small hollow, and Pippin and I drew first watch together. I stood on the edge of camp, listening and watching quietly.
Pippin waited until he was sure the others were asleep, then tapped me on the arm. I knelt down, "Yes?"
"You were kissing Gandalf," he whispered.
"To my folly, I find him attractive." I sighed, "It must be the wizardness. Or maybe the sword. Ah, lust, thy name is irritation."
He chuckled, "If it helps any, I have caught him looking at you with the most peculiar expression."
"Probably wonders how to get rid of me easily."
"I think he's wondering what you see in him. After all, he is an old man."
"Seasoned. And age means lots of experience." I grinned a bit salaciously. "I should know, I'm nearing..." I paused, trying to recall. "Almost two thousand, I think."
His eyes rounded in the moonlight, "You're that old?"
"I'm very well-preserved." I sighed. "Go to sleep, Pippin."
For a moment I thought he'd object, pointing out that we had set two to a watch on purpose. Then he seemed to sense my weariness and nodded, curling up in his cloak. Soon the only sound I could hear was the vague snores of the Fellowship.
I let the darkness fold around me, dropping into a light trance and setting wards that would be undetectable by even Gandalf if he'd been standing on one while wide awake. The night slowly turned, the stars dancing in the heavens as my friends slept. Friends? They felt like friends, in a way. I was willing to lay my life down for them all. For this quest to succeed. Others hadn't, this would make up for them.
As dawn lit the tips of the mountains, I stirred, sliding back into firm reality. I felt rested, as if I'd slept the night through rather than stood guard over people who barely knew me. I wondered if my sleep would have been plagued with nightmares and portents.
Probably. Fate isn't fond of me.
Aragorn awoke and scrambled to his feet, puzzled at the lightness of the air. "You did not wake me for my shift."
"I felt no need to." With a twist of my shoulders, I began moving, waking my stiff muscles and bones.
"You haven't slept."
"I am nearly refreshed." I yawned in reflex, my ears clearing. "I think it's time for breakfast."
He chuckled. "You've been talking to Pippin too much."
I smiled at the sleeping hobbit fondly, "Probably."
--
We traveled up the mountain, buffeted by wind and then snow. It was hard going for all of us, even Legolas. It was beautiful country, though, and had I the time, I would have enjoyed it immensely. Instead, I began to loathe it as the snow got deeper and the paths steeper. Bill the pony kept up only by dint of Sam's coaxing.
I kept the rear-guard, avoiding Gandalf and Boromir both in one fell swoop. Pippin was my ever-faithful companion, amusing me with stories of the Shire and the hobbits' journey to Rivendell. I also employed what I could to muddy our trail. Legolas, Aragorn and Gandalf left very little trail, but Boromir, Gimli and four hobbits, try though they might, left enough for us to be found easily.
Muddying the trail was something I had picked up centuries before. It was useful when you didn't want to be found.
Aragorn watched me at work and seemed to approve of my methods.
When it began to snow, I noticed that Legolas walked lightly on the crust of it. I could have done that, but didn't want to waste the time.
As the snow got deeper, the way was more treacherous. We began to spread out, Gandalf away in the lead with Merry leading Bill and Gimli close behind. Then Pippin and Sam, with Boromir behind them. And Frodo and Aragorn in front of me. It seemed to work well, until Frodo slipped and slid down one perilous slope.
Aragorn quickly caught him, steadying them both for a moment. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Boromir turned to see what the commotion had been about, and I suddenly realised Frodo had lost the ring on its chain to the snow. It lay in the sun, glittering goldly up at the Gondorman. He stared at it for a moment, then bent over and picked it up.
A tension went through Aragorn as Boromir stood there, his eyes dark with dreams. I moved to the side, in preparation of a strike.
"Give Frodo the ring, Boromir."
"It's such a little thing," he whispered in reply, his eyes shining oddly. Then he seemed to shake himself, and laughed. He came closer and handed the ring to Frodo. "Keep this safe, lad."
Without another comment, he moved back up the path, struggling through the snow. In front of me, Aragorn relaxed and released the pommel of Anduril. He set Frodo on his feet. "Let's go on."
I stood there for a time, pondering what I had seen. And shivering, for I knew Boromir had a larger part to play. I couldn't just kill him, sadly.
--
Bill the pony hated Caradhras. Which was OK, because the mountain hated all of us. Halfway to the pass with a sheer drop on our left, and high wall of snow to our right, we finally turned back. Not after a fight, of course. But Saruman had cast spells against us and caused an avalanche that buried us under feet of snow.
It was one of the things I hadn't warded us against. Physical attack. In the form of orcs or goblins, we'd've been fine. But Saruman must have known the route we would take in the mountains, and been watching.
I dug myself from the drift and sent a quick blast of magic down the path Saruman's spells had come from. It splashed against well-made shields, but gave the newly proclaimed Mage of Many Colours something to think about.
While I had been striking backwards along the trail, a conversation had begun among my companions. It was quickly decided to go back the way we'd come. This was too dangerous, there were too many chances for us to fall to our deaths.
We would travel though the Mines of Moria.
Gimli was ecstatic, proclaiming his glee that his cousin Balin would feast us and throw huge parties, and make our journey through Moria as a vacation.
But I saw Gandalf's eyes for a moment, and I worried that this was the wrong choice.
--
Nearly a week was lost in trying the pass of the Redhorn Gate at Caradhras. Luckily, the entrance to Moria was only half a day's journey from that snow-covered mountainside.
As we approached, Gandalf was startled to find a lake inhabiting the valley he claimed should have been there. The lake filled the entire bowl, far in the distance we could see the 'gates' of Moria, huge black slabs of stone that rose into the mountain above. We skirted the northern edge of the lake, and I realised as we slipped and squelched along that something wanted no comers to Moria.
We reached the gates a little before sunset. Up close, the walls were intricately carved, almost seamless in their grandeur. Unfortunately, there was no way of telling how to get in.
Gandalf suddenly chuckled, "We must wait for starlight."
And so a much needed rest was decreed. The hobbits cast themselves tiredly to the ground and I followed suit, stretching full-length on the rocky bank.
Boromir came to stand over me, "You're as odd as I'd heard."
"Thank you." My back finished unkinking, and I sighed happily.
"But isn't it difficult to fight an attacker from down there?"
I blinked up at him, then moved, shoving against the rocks with my shoulders as I whipped my legs up in a scissor-kick. I tapped his nose with one foot, then continued the roll, landing on my feet in a crouch. "Not really. If I'd wanted, I could have kicked your head off."
"You are..." He seemed at a loss for words.
"Odd. Yes. You said."
Gandalf called us all back together, then, and we beheld the starlight of Moria, as the inscriptions of the gates erupted into luminescence.
It was beautiful, wondrous, and many more lovely descriptive words. I was too tired to think. I left it to Gandalf and Frodo to puzzle out how the gates opened and went to help unload Bill.
The pony had faithfully held our baggage until now, and I was sad to lose him.
"The mines are no place for a pony, Sam." Aragorn was saying softly as I approached.
"He's right." I noted, swinging a pack to the side.
"Oh, I know. It just hurts having to say goodbye--and I'm that worried about him. Wolves and worse things are out there a-hunting for us."
I laid a hand against the pony's side for a moment, then smiled. "There. He's safe now, Sam."
"How do you figure that?"
"I've laid a spell to repel would-be carnivores on him. He should be fine all the way back to Rivendell and beyond."
"Gosh. You really are a Sorcerer, or a Wizard, like old Gandalf."
"Yes." I glanced at Aragorn. "But not a very powerful one. I've just been doing it for a long time."
The dark-haired man nodded and moved away to check on the others. He stopped Pippin from throwing stones into the lake, and a silent menace began registering at the edge of my senses. I pulled Sam closer to the others, helping to distribute the packs as Gandalf finally realised the riddle and opened the gates of Moria.
Gimli was the first into the dark gaping maw of the entrance, he cheerfully called over his shoulder as Gandalf followed him, "Once we've identified ourselves, my cousin Balin will be glad to see us!"
Aragorn and Boromir followed, with the hobbits behind them.
I followed last, careful. For a stench as of death and decay was assailing my nostrils, and I began to guess that not all had gone well for Balin and his stalwart dwarves. Moria and they had fallen long ago, and evil breathed in their place.
"It's a tomb!" Boromir gasped as the light from Gandalf's staff illuminated the pitiable remains of many dwarves and other creatures.
Moria was littered with the unburied dead, their bodies twisted as if pain had been their last thought. Many were unknown to me, and I guessed them to be orcs. I shivered and found Frodo at my side, backing out and away from the silent horror.
"We should never have come here," Boromir sniped.
I snorted, "We would not have survived Caradhras with Saruman dogging our every move."
He opened his mouth to reply, then shut it, angry that I was right and he unable to refute me.
And then Frodo cried out in alarm. I turned to find him being dragged back out the door, into the lake, a tentacle around his ankle.
"Aragorn! Boromir! Strider!" The remaining hobbits yelled in alarm.
I was moving, sword out as another tentacle grabbed Pippin. I sliced through it and the next three as Aragorn and Boromir entered the water after Frodo. By luck they retrieved him and I hacked another limb before Legolas called for me to duck. I did and he rained arrows on the hideous creature while we retreated into Moria.
For a moment, I thought us safe and then the body heaved itself out of the lake and came after us. The gates of Moria shattered and we ran, the roof falling behind us to bury the entrance and creature forever.
--