Disclaimer: I don't own anybody in this story except for Adariel and minor
character associated with her, i.e. Maids and other people like that…….. I
also made up the King and Lakewood.
1 Echoes of the Narbeleth
Spirit Star
2 Chapter 4: In which they escape the darkness
Wondering the many hallways in cautious silence, Adariel was chilled again and again by the uncanny silence that filled the echoing tunnels, once glorious with hidden treasure. Luckily, there was only one main path, and Adariel guessed that it led to the hall, or at least somewhere important, most likely the center of Moria.
Onward she journeyed until her hope was at its end, and weariness was driven more quickly by the closing in of the darkness and the smell of death upon her mind. Her cloak was wrapped around her to keep her warm and her hood was over her head to muffle the echoes that her Elven ears picked up. Just when she could stand it no more and her heart was about to burst with want of light and air, a din disturbed the perpetual silence. The clattering of something dropped deep in a tunnel caught her sensitive ears, followed by the loudest clanking of mail being dropped down after it.
"They are to be found, indeed! Fate plays a part, still." she said joyously, slightly relieved although she did not understand why it would be so in such terrible conditions.
Just as she reached the entrance of the chamber where it came from, and slipped in, while the Fellowship were listening to Gandalf read from a entry in front of a tomb where Gimli was kneeling. "So they know that the Lord of Moria is no more," noted Adariel as a twang of sympathy stroke through her heart, and a coldness tightened around it.
Gandalf happened to look up at that moment, and Adariel suddenly found herself under his gaze.
It was terrifying.
It was piercing.
It was strangely understanding.
Adariel stood frozen, breath withheld, half in shadow and half in light with her cloak drawn about her and her hood masking her face. Gandalf's lips twitched in a direction Adariel could not make out and he looked once more to the pages of his book. Fingering the page, he began to read from it.
"It seems to be a record of the fortunes of Balin's folk," he said presently. "We must be in the Chamber of Records."
"What says it of the fortune that befell Balin?" said Gimli, rather nervously.
"The last entry is written in Elvish characters. I fear he had ill tidings to record in a fair hand. The first clear word is sorrow, but the rest of the line was lost, but I think I can make out at the near end of the page 'We have barred the gates' and then 'can hold them long if' and I think then it is perhaps 'horrible' or 'suffer'."
"Now we come to the last page of all," said Gandalf, turning the page rather slowly. After a pause, which non of the Fellowship dared breath through, he said, 'It is grim reading in deed. I fear their end was cruel. 'We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the Bridge and second hall. Frar and Loni and Nali fell there' The last lines read 'the pool is up to the wall at Westgate. The Watcher in the Water took Oin. We cannot get out. The end comes' and then, 'drums, drums in the deep' The last thing written in a trailing scrawl is: 'They are Coming'."
A chill passed through Adariel. She had clambered to a grove behind a pole that supported the roof. It was a grove that ran around the room, and with nimble Elven feet, she was able to run across it like it was wide road. She would not like to meet the same end as Balin's people, she was sure.
She made not a sound as she moved to a more sheltered place, both in light and out of the sight of seeking eyes. Although her skill was great, she could not avoid being Seen in such a closed place. Then the words of the Entry came to her mind. 'We cannot get out.'
Light dawned in her. If they were met by the Orcs here in this Chamber, then their end would indeed be that of the Dwarves. Cruel. Bloody, trapped like mice. Her thoughts immediately flew to the Fellowship. Tempted as she was to shoot another arrow, she could not. To do so meant being Seen for sure, for in such a small chamber, the echo of the song of her bow would give her away.
While she fretted, there came a great noise. A rolling Boom that seemed to come from deep below the earth began to tremble the ledge under her foot. The Fellowship sprang to the door in alarm. Still the beating sound continued, like the question and answering that the Ringwraiths displayed. Boom. Boom. There came the sound of a great rushing of feet.
"The are coming!" cried Gimli, as it became clear to them that they were about to meet the same situation that the Moria Dwarves had met.
"We cannot get out!" said Samwise, shifting from foot hither and to.
Adariel unslung her bow and reached into her quiver. Her feet made ready as if to jump and run, should the need arise. Her first priority was the Ringbearer, as was that of the others. Deep inside her hood, her eyes trembled. Like all Elves, she feared very much death in a dark land under the ground where the sunlight may not shine and the stars may not twinkle. Her eye moved unconsciously towards Legolas, and saw that he was in the same condition as herself; she felt assured.
Aragorn and Boromir moved to bar the doors. Gandalf stopped them with a wave of his hand. "We must not get shut in! Keep one set ajar so that we may flee if we get the chance.
So it was, that the company stood in waiting facing the front doors that had been bolted with an ax. Gandalf stood at the rear, staff in had. Gimli had hopped onto the tomb of the beloved Balin, wielding his ax. Boromir and Aragorn stood on either side of the four creatures that Adariel had learnt were hobbits from listening in on conversation. Each hobbit held a knife. Frodo the Ringbearer's glowed tinted blue, and Adariel knew that it was Elf made.
In front, bow drawn, stood Legolas. In his hand there lay a single arrow, although his quiver had been brought forward on his shoulder to give easier and faster access. How beautiful he looked even in the gloom, though there was non of the earlier twinkle in his eye, and his face was grim in the dark as Adariel knew hers to be also.
But Adariel knew that beauty deceived, and that it was as dangerous as any weapon held by the people in front of her. She herself strung her bow in silence, moving her eyes away from Legolas of Mirkwood and grimly towards the door that had stood unusually silent. The beat of the drums and been silenced, but they could now hear the shuffle of feet just beyond the door.
"The have come," murmured Gandalf, shattering the tense silence from both sides.
Nothing moved, and then a cry and the doors bulged as if forced. Several forces hit it but still it stood. The ax that barred it began to break, and the company tensed once more.
It broke.
The door flung open and the faces of Orcs filled it. All of a sudden, everything happened at once. Adariel unfroze and loosened her bow. It hit its target, and the Orc fell. Up in front, Legolas repeatedly shot at whatever creature came his way.
The four hobbits had rushed forward and attacked, with Boromir and Aragorn covering. Gimli was surrounded and cut at creatures from either side of the tomb. Gandalf fought with his staff, every now and then there was a burst of light and one would disappear in smoke. Such as the power of Gandalf, wearer of Narya, the ring of Fire.
Adariel shot repeatedly as wave after wave came through. The chamber became once more drenched with the smell of blood, and the cries of many. Shot after shot, slash after slash until there came no more waves. But then another figure emerged from the doorway, large and rocky like that was what he was made of. And it turned out that it was made from it.
"It is a cave troll!" cried Gimli, recognizing it. And so it was. Adariel stopped temporarily to run for cover, for there were several Orcs who had noticed her. She shot them all, but was afraid that more had seen her. "A cave troll?" wondered Adariel aloud, more to herself. She had never seen one, and hoped not to see another. It leapt around, chain around its neck, using it as a weapon, as well as its hammer.
In the midst of all the turmoil, another wave of Orcs streamed through, and the Fellowship were kept well distracted. Nobody noticed that the cave troll made for Frodo the Ringbearer. Nobody, except Adariel. She knew that arrows would be of no use just yet, for it was its back she saw. She knew not where the weakest spot was, but it was definitely not there. Most likely somewhere around the neck and throat.
Frodo was backing himself into a corner. Glancing around her, she saw that not one was within helping distance except for herself. She turned and ran along the ledge towards where the troll was, unseen by all except a couple of Orcs who were soon dead.
"Frodo of the Shire!" she called in haste, Frodo looked up, and the troll struck, but the movement made if off target. It hit him on the shoulder. Adariel loosened her bow once more and struck at it. It moved off, happy that its work was done.
Adariel scooped Frodo up and lightly and nimbly made for the ledge again. Setting him down in a sheltered corner, she guarded it with her arrows. He was, she noted, quite unharmed and indeed was still alive, though a little shaken. He was unconscious.
The fighting died down, and the troll and other Orcs fled away when they saw that their cause was lost. The Fellowship stirred, and Adariel noted with alarm that they would notice Frodo was missing soon. Leaving him on the ledge, she immediately went and found another hiding place on the ground, but quite near, to wait to see what would happen.
Samwise the Hobbit noticed it first. "Master Frodo? Master Frodooooo?" He called, looking about him at the mess on the ground. "I fear," he began, turning to the others, "I fear Master Frodo has turned for the worst." He said and burst into tears.
Aragorn turned about him. "We must search for him. Hurry for we cannot tarry here long. They will come again. Let us hope that the worse has not befallen him. Did any of you sight him?"
"Nay!" they cried, one by one in dismay. And so they searched, but could not see.
"How is it," Adariel said to herself, "that nobody thinks to look up!" She retrieved her quill and parchment again, and wrote this time in Common Tongue.
"From where this arrow lands, look above.
He is quite alseep, dreaming of the darkest deep. – A friend"
Once again, she loosened her bow, and this time it pieced the rock right under where Frodo's body lay. The whoosh of the arrow startled everybody, and all were holding weapons in hand immediately, and all were trained in the general direction of herself. Not that she was worried, except in the case of Legalos, whom she deemed to be quite an archer from what she saw.
"Hey! It is another note!" cried Merry, who had seen it first.
"Then we are safe," Gandalf said mysteriously, and Adariel saw him glance upon her again although she was sure that she was hidden. "What says it?"
Merry read it aloud, and everybody turned. To their astonishment, Frodo was in deed upon the ledge, and Legalos soon fetched him down.
"Aha! He is only asleep! There are more to Hobbits than meets the eye!" said Gandalf merrily.
"How came this to be?" wondered Boromir, who had not spoken for some time.
"That, we shall ask Frodo himself," Gandalf replied. "Wake you, Frodo of the Shire!" And so he did!
"I had the strangest vision, though I am not sure if it were truth or a dream. After I was struck, a hooded figure appeared from the sky and scooped me up upon the ledge. But now I see it was not true, for I am not upon my ledge, but on the ground!"
"Nay! We fetched you off the ledge that you speak of!" replied Boromir in wonder. "Of whom do you speak? Was it one of us?"
"It certainly was not!" replied Frodo, "As sure as eyes were eyes, it was not. It was cloaked in a dark green cloak and the hood was up. I rather fancied it was a Dark Rider if it weren't for the color of the cloak. It certainly wasn't black!"
"Let us tarry no longer on this subject!" said Gandalf, casting a hurried eye in Adariel's direction. She breathed in relief. So he could be trusted. She marveled at Gandalf the Grey who had hidden depths. "You must tell us about how you survived that blow!"
"Let us see how you fared," spoke Aragorn. Frodo's shirt was undone and when it opened, it revealed a silver corslet that shimmered before their eyes like light upon a rippling sea. The gems on it glittered like the stars in the sky, and a tinkle of bells sounded when Frodo moved.
"Mithril!" breathed all.
"Mithril!" murmured Adariel, loving the sound and the sight of it. So that was what her own armor underneath her shirt was. She was amazed. How had Mithril come into Lakewood?
"Come then!" said Gandalf, urgency in his voice as he bade them all to rise. "I trust you can walk, Frodo?"
After the confirmation, they stood up and went on their way hurriedly. All had forgotten the note and the arrow. Adariel was glad. Creeping up as they made their way, she slowly followed in the shadows by the sound of their voices. It wasn't long before that mood vanished. In the distance drums echoed again. And again.
"Hurry!" said Gandalf. Adariel looked behind and felt immediately shadows cast in her mind. Something Wicked Walked this Way. And it was advancing fast. Suddenly the drums grew no more, and there came a shriek of something from afar. All was again silent.
"Whatever comes here, even Orcs flee from," said Gimli, noting the scattering of feet. His head was still bowed by the thought of Balin being no more.
"Come, we must move on." Gandalf said decisively. They turned around grimly and picked up their pace. Adariel followed on soft feet, although she cast about her mind and every so often looked back and felt the advancing terror.
"There is a light ahead," said Gimli after a while, as indeed there was. "It is not bright, but red. What can it be?"
"Fire," Gandalf replied for he knew it well. On his finger sat Narya, unnoticed by all except Adariel. And fire it was as it stood brightly. The air became stale and hot. The light grew stronger. They came upon an arch and Gandalf went first, signaling them to stay. He stepped back soon after.
"This is the Second Hall of Old Moria and the Gates are near, away beyond the eastern end and on the left. Not more than a quarter of a mile. Across the Bridge and up a broad stair, along a wide road, through the First Hall and out! I remember it well now."
Adariel had a feeling that he could not remember before. "It was pure luck that they were not lost in that gloom, as it was lucky for me to hear the noise!" said she. From her position, she could see that a fierce red light came from a great gap in the floor of the Hall. Tongues of fire came every now and then out of it.
"Let us hope that the fire now lies between us and the pursuers." Gandalf said grimly. "come, there is no time to loose and less to waste!" And so they went, chased by the sound of drums that had started once again.
"Look ahead!" cried Gandalf as they sped across the hall. "The bridge is near. It is narrow and dangerous." Indeed it was. They could only pass in single file, and below the bridge there was darkness. Adariel stirred. How could she make it past without being seen, and still be in a position to aid them should help be needed? She picked up her pace, until she was speeding in the shadows in front of the company.
She still could not find any way of going across. Near the bridge, Gandalf halted. The sound of arrows wizzed past, and the others turned. Adariel seized the chance and dashed hurriedly across the narrow rock easily. It was wider than the ledge, and she felt quite safe. The drums grew in sound, but then stopped. Orcs could be seen running from a great distance away, afraid. In turn, Adariel could feel fear creeping in.
"SSSssssssssssssssssssssssssiiiiiiilllllaaa?" she asked a weed growing in a crack of rock.
"iiiinnnnggaaaasss!" it trembled. "Balrog!"
Adariel gasped, moving backwards towards the stairs. A Balrog! Ancient evil had risen in the mines, she knew, but a Balrog, a fire devil of the Olden Times? Legolas recognized it too.
"A Balrog!" he cried. The others were in shock.
"A Balrog. Now I understand." Muttered Gandalf. "Quickly over the bridge!"
They made haste, with Gimli first and Gandalf last. A fiery heat scorched Adariel from where she was as she hurried up on stone steps. The Balrog was in view. Everybody turned.
"Fly! Fly!" cried Gandalf. "I alone must hold the narrow way! Fly!" The others began to start up the stairs of which Adariel was already at the top of, looking down.
Aragorn stood with Boromir, unmoving. Gandalf lifted his staff. "You cannot pass!" The Orcs stood still, and silence fell in the midst of the roaring heat. "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun. Go back to the shadow. You cannot pass!"
No answer was given, and the flames seem to creep back down, and with it, the darkness gathered itself. Suddenly, the Balrog stepped forward, it's sword above its head. Gandalf stepped back and steadied himself. "You cannot pass!" he repeated.
The Balrog had now leapt upon the bridge itself. "You cannot stand alone!" cried Aragorn, leaping forward. Boromir followed him. At that moment, Gandalf lifted his staff, and he smote the bridge before him. The staff broke and fell from his hand. The bridge cracked and the Balrog fell to the depths. With a terrible cry, it fell forward, and its shadow plunged downwards. Yet even as it hurled, its whip lashed the wizard about the ankles, and dragged him over the edge where he clung to the end. Aragorn made to help him, but Gandalf cried, "Fly, you fools!" and was gone.
The fires went out and the darkness stretched further still. Everybody stood rooted. Adariel let a small cry escape her. Part of her former self rejoiced that the only one who could betray her secret was gone, only to be smothered by her freer self. She was disgusted with herself, and ran to the gate that was now in sight. Once outside, she fell to her knees for a while in the sunlight that dazzled her eyes and renewed her heart. She cried.
2.1 End of Chapter 4
Reviews please! NO FLAMES but constructive criticism is very welcome!
1 Echoes of the Narbeleth
Spirit Star
2 Chapter 4: In which they escape the darkness
Wondering the many hallways in cautious silence, Adariel was chilled again and again by the uncanny silence that filled the echoing tunnels, once glorious with hidden treasure. Luckily, there was only one main path, and Adariel guessed that it led to the hall, or at least somewhere important, most likely the center of Moria.
Onward she journeyed until her hope was at its end, and weariness was driven more quickly by the closing in of the darkness and the smell of death upon her mind. Her cloak was wrapped around her to keep her warm and her hood was over her head to muffle the echoes that her Elven ears picked up. Just when she could stand it no more and her heart was about to burst with want of light and air, a din disturbed the perpetual silence. The clattering of something dropped deep in a tunnel caught her sensitive ears, followed by the loudest clanking of mail being dropped down after it.
"They are to be found, indeed! Fate plays a part, still." she said joyously, slightly relieved although she did not understand why it would be so in such terrible conditions.
Just as she reached the entrance of the chamber where it came from, and slipped in, while the Fellowship were listening to Gandalf read from a entry in front of a tomb where Gimli was kneeling. "So they know that the Lord of Moria is no more," noted Adariel as a twang of sympathy stroke through her heart, and a coldness tightened around it.
Gandalf happened to look up at that moment, and Adariel suddenly found herself under his gaze.
It was terrifying.
It was piercing.
It was strangely understanding.
Adariel stood frozen, breath withheld, half in shadow and half in light with her cloak drawn about her and her hood masking her face. Gandalf's lips twitched in a direction Adariel could not make out and he looked once more to the pages of his book. Fingering the page, he began to read from it.
"It seems to be a record of the fortunes of Balin's folk," he said presently. "We must be in the Chamber of Records."
"What says it of the fortune that befell Balin?" said Gimli, rather nervously.
"The last entry is written in Elvish characters. I fear he had ill tidings to record in a fair hand. The first clear word is sorrow, but the rest of the line was lost, but I think I can make out at the near end of the page 'We have barred the gates' and then 'can hold them long if' and I think then it is perhaps 'horrible' or 'suffer'."
"Now we come to the last page of all," said Gandalf, turning the page rather slowly. After a pause, which non of the Fellowship dared breath through, he said, 'It is grim reading in deed. I fear their end was cruel. 'We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the Bridge and second hall. Frar and Loni and Nali fell there' The last lines read 'the pool is up to the wall at Westgate. The Watcher in the Water took Oin. We cannot get out. The end comes' and then, 'drums, drums in the deep' The last thing written in a trailing scrawl is: 'They are Coming'."
A chill passed through Adariel. She had clambered to a grove behind a pole that supported the roof. It was a grove that ran around the room, and with nimble Elven feet, she was able to run across it like it was wide road. She would not like to meet the same end as Balin's people, she was sure.
She made not a sound as she moved to a more sheltered place, both in light and out of the sight of seeking eyes. Although her skill was great, she could not avoid being Seen in such a closed place. Then the words of the Entry came to her mind. 'We cannot get out.'
Light dawned in her. If they were met by the Orcs here in this Chamber, then their end would indeed be that of the Dwarves. Cruel. Bloody, trapped like mice. Her thoughts immediately flew to the Fellowship. Tempted as she was to shoot another arrow, she could not. To do so meant being Seen for sure, for in such a small chamber, the echo of the song of her bow would give her away.
While she fretted, there came a great noise. A rolling Boom that seemed to come from deep below the earth began to tremble the ledge under her foot. The Fellowship sprang to the door in alarm. Still the beating sound continued, like the question and answering that the Ringwraiths displayed. Boom. Boom. There came the sound of a great rushing of feet.
"The are coming!" cried Gimli, as it became clear to them that they were about to meet the same situation that the Moria Dwarves had met.
"We cannot get out!" said Samwise, shifting from foot hither and to.
Adariel unslung her bow and reached into her quiver. Her feet made ready as if to jump and run, should the need arise. Her first priority was the Ringbearer, as was that of the others. Deep inside her hood, her eyes trembled. Like all Elves, she feared very much death in a dark land under the ground where the sunlight may not shine and the stars may not twinkle. Her eye moved unconsciously towards Legolas, and saw that he was in the same condition as herself; she felt assured.
Aragorn and Boromir moved to bar the doors. Gandalf stopped them with a wave of his hand. "We must not get shut in! Keep one set ajar so that we may flee if we get the chance.
So it was, that the company stood in waiting facing the front doors that had been bolted with an ax. Gandalf stood at the rear, staff in had. Gimli had hopped onto the tomb of the beloved Balin, wielding his ax. Boromir and Aragorn stood on either side of the four creatures that Adariel had learnt were hobbits from listening in on conversation. Each hobbit held a knife. Frodo the Ringbearer's glowed tinted blue, and Adariel knew that it was Elf made.
In front, bow drawn, stood Legolas. In his hand there lay a single arrow, although his quiver had been brought forward on his shoulder to give easier and faster access. How beautiful he looked even in the gloom, though there was non of the earlier twinkle in his eye, and his face was grim in the dark as Adariel knew hers to be also.
But Adariel knew that beauty deceived, and that it was as dangerous as any weapon held by the people in front of her. She herself strung her bow in silence, moving her eyes away from Legolas of Mirkwood and grimly towards the door that had stood unusually silent. The beat of the drums and been silenced, but they could now hear the shuffle of feet just beyond the door.
"The have come," murmured Gandalf, shattering the tense silence from both sides.
Nothing moved, and then a cry and the doors bulged as if forced. Several forces hit it but still it stood. The ax that barred it began to break, and the company tensed once more.
It broke.
The door flung open and the faces of Orcs filled it. All of a sudden, everything happened at once. Adariel unfroze and loosened her bow. It hit its target, and the Orc fell. Up in front, Legolas repeatedly shot at whatever creature came his way.
The four hobbits had rushed forward and attacked, with Boromir and Aragorn covering. Gimli was surrounded and cut at creatures from either side of the tomb. Gandalf fought with his staff, every now and then there was a burst of light and one would disappear in smoke. Such as the power of Gandalf, wearer of Narya, the ring of Fire.
Adariel shot repeatedly as wave after wave came through. The chamber became once more drenched with the smell of blood, and the cries of many. Shot after shot, slash after slash until there came no more waves. But then another figure emerged from the doorway, large and rocky like that was what he was made of. And it turned out that it was made from it.
"It is a cave troll!" cried Gimli, recognizing it. And so it was. Adariel stopped temporarily to run for cover, for there were several Orcs who had noticed her. She shot them all, but was afraid that more had seen her. "A cave troll?" wondered Adariel aloud, more to herself. She had never seen one, and hoped not to see another. It leapt around, chain around its neck, using it as a weapon, as well as its hammer.
In the midst of all the turmoil, another wave of Orcs streamed through, and the Fellowship were kept well distracted. Nobody noticed that the cave troll made for Frodo the Ringbearer. Nobody, except Adariel. She knew that arrows would be of no use just yet, for it was its back she saw. She knew not where the weakest spot was, but it was definitely not there. Most likely somewhere around the neck and throat.
Frodo was backing himself into a corner. Glancing around her, she saw that not one was within helping distance except for herself. She turned and ran along the ledge towards where the troll was, unseen by all except a couple of Orcs who were soon dead.
"Frodo of the Shire!" she called in haste, Frodo looked up, and the troll struck, but the movement made if off target. It hit him on the shoulder. Adariel loosened her bow once more and struck at it. It moved off, happy that its work was done.
Adariel scooped Frodo up and lightly and nimbly made for the ledge again. Setting him down in a sheltered corner, she guarded it with her arrows. He was, she noted, quite unharmed and indeed was still alive, though a little shaken. He was unconscious.
The fighting died down, and the troll and other Orcs fled away when they saw that their cause was lost. The Fellowship stirred, and Adariel noted with alarm that they would notice Frodo was missing soon. Leaving him on the ledge, she immediately went and found another hiding place on the ground, but quite near, to wait to see what would happen.
Samwise the Hobbit noticed it first. "Master Frodo? Master Frodooooo?" He called, looking about him at the mess on the ground. "I fear," he began, turning to the others, "I fear Master Frodo has turned for the worst." He said and burst into tears.
Aragorn turned about him. "We must search for him. Hurry for we cannot tarry here long. They will come again. Let us hope that the worse has not befallen him. Did any of you sight him?"
"Nay!" they cried, one by one in dismay. And so they searched, but could not see.
"How is it," Adariel said to herself, "that nobody thinks to look up!" She retrieved her quill and parchment again, and wrote this time in Common Tongue.
"From where this arrow lands, look above.
He is quite alseep, dreaming of the darkest deep. – A friend"
Once again, she loosened her bow, and this time it pieced the rock right under where Frodo's body lay. The whoosh of the arrow startled everybody, and all were holding weapons in hand immediately, and all were trained in the general direction of herself. Not that she was worried, except in the case of Legalos, whom she deemed to be quite an archer from what she saw.
"Hey! It is another note!" cried Merry, who had seen it first.
"Then we are safe," Gandalf said mysteriously, and Adariel saw him glance upon her again although she was sure that she was hidden. "What says it?"
Merry read it aloud, and everybody turned. To their astonishment, Frodo was in deed upon the ledge, and Legalos soon fetched him down.
"Aha! He is only asleep! There are more to Hobbits than meets the eye!" said Gandalf merrily.
"How came this to be?" wondered Boromir, who had not spoken for some time.
"That, we shall ask Frodo himself," Gandalf replied. "Wake you, Frodo of the Shire!" And so he did!
"I had the strangest vision, though I am not sure if it were truth or a dream. After I was struck, a hooded figure appeared from the sky and scooped me up upon the ledge. But now I see it was not true, for I am not upon my ledge, but on the ground!"
"Nay! We fetched you off the ledge that you speak of!" replied Boromir in wonder. "Of whom do you speak? Was it one of us?"
"It certainly was not!" replied Frodo, "As sure as eyes were eyes, it was not. It was cloaked in a dark green cloak and the hood was up. I rather fancied it was a Dark Rider if it weren't for the color of the cloak. It certainly wasn't black!"
"Let us tarry no longer on this subject!" said Gandalf, casting a hurried eye in Adariel's direction. She breathed in relief. So he could be trusted. She marveled at Gandalf the Grey who had hidden depths. "You must tell us about how you survived that blow!"
"Let us see how you fared," spoke Aragorn. Frodo's shirt was undone and when it opened, it revealed a silver corslet that shimmered before their eyes like light upon a rippling sea. The gems on it glittered like the stars in the sky, and a tinkle of bells sounded when Frodo moved.
"Mithril!" breathed all.
"Mithril!" murmured Adariel, loving the sound and the sight of it. So that was what her own armor underneath her shirt was. She was amazed. How had Mithril come into Lakewood?
"Come then!" said Gandalf, urgency in his voice as he bade them all to rise. "I trust you can walk, Frodo?"
After the confirmation, they stood up and went on their way hurriedly. All had forgotten the note and the arrow. Adariel was glad. Creeping up as they made their way, she slowly followed in the shadows by the sound of their voices. It wasn't long before that mood vanished. In the distance drums echoed again. And again.
"Hurry!" said Gandalf. Adariel looked behind and felt immediately shadows cast in her mind. Something Wicked Walked this Way. And it was advancing fast. Suddenly the drums grew no more, and there came a shriek of something from afar. All was again silent.
"Whatever comes here, even Orcs flee from," said Gimli, noting the scattering of feet. His head was still bowed by the thought of Balin being no more.
"Come, we must move on." Gandalf said decisively. They turned around grimly and picked up their pace. Adariel followed on soft feet, although she cast about her mind and every so often looked back and felt the advancing terror.
"There is a light ahead," said Gimli after a while, as indeed there was. "It is not bright, but red. What can it be?"
"Fire," Gandalf replied for he knew it well. On his finger sat Narya, unnoticed by all except Adariel. And fire it was as it stood brightly. The air became stale and hot. The light grew stronger. They came upon an arch and Gandalf went first, signaling them to stay. He stepped back soon after.
"This is the Second Hall of Old Moria and the Gates are near, away beyond the eastern end and on the left. Not more than a quarter of a mile. Across the Bridge and up a broad stair, along a wide road, through the First Hall and out! I remember it well now."
Adariel had a feeling that he could not remember before. "It was pure luck that they were not lost in that gloom, as it was lucky for me to hear the noise!" said she. From her position, she could see that a fierce red light came from a great gap in the floor of the Hall. Tongues of fire came every now and then out of it.
"Let us hope that the fire now lies between us and the pursuers." Gandalf said grimly. "come, there is no time to loose and less to waste!" And so they went, chased by the sound of drums that had started once again.
"Look ahead!" cried Gandalf as they sped across the hall. "The bridge is near. It is narrow and dangerous." Indeed it was. They could only pass in single file, and below the bridge there was darkness. Adariel stirred. How could she make it past without being seen, and still be in a position to aid them should help be needed? She picked up her pace, until she was speeding in the shadows in front of the company.
She still could not find any way of going across. Near the bridge, Gandalf halted. The sound of arrows wizzed past, and the others turned. Adariel seized the chance and dashed hurriedly across the narrow rock easily. It was wider than the ledge, and she felt quite safe. The drums grew in sound, but then stopped. Orcs could be seen running from a great distance away, afraid. In turn, Adariel could feel fear creeping in.
"SSSssssssssssssssssssssssssiiiiiiilllllaaa?" she asked a weed growing in a crack of rock.
"iiiinnnnggaaaasss!" it trembled. "Balrog!"
Adariel gasped, moving backwards towards the stairs. A Balrog! Ancient evil had risen in the mines, she knew, but a Balrog, a fire devil of the Olden Times? Legolas recognized it too.
"A Balrog!" he cried. The others were in shock.
"A Balrog. Now I understand." Muttered Gandalf. "Quickly over the bridge!"
They made haste, with Gimli first and Gandalf last. A fiery heat scorched Adariel from where she was as she hurried up on stone steps. The Balrog was in view. Everybody turned.
"Fly! Fly!" cried Gandalf. "I alone must hold the narrow way! Fly!" The others began to start up the stairs of which Adariel was already at the top of, looking down.
Aragorn stood with Boromir, unmoving. Gandalf lifted his staff. "You cannot pass!" The Orcs stood still, and silence fell in the midst of the roaring heat. "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun. Go back to the shadow. You cannot pass!"
No answer was given, and the flames seem to creep back down, and with it, the darkness gathered itself. Suddenly, the Balrog stepped forward, it's sword above its head. Gandalf stepped back and steadied himself. "You cannot pass!" he repeated.
The Balrog had now leapt upon the bridge itself. "You cannot stand alone!" cried Aragorn, leaping forward. Boromir followed him. At that moment, Gandalf lifted his staff, and he smote the bridge before him. The staff broke and fell from his hand. The bridge cracked and the Balrog fell to the depths. With a terrible cry, it fell forward, and its shadow plunged downwards. Yet even as it hurled, its whip lashed the wizard about the ankles, and dragged him over the edge where he clung to the end. Aragorn made to help him, but Gandalf cried, "Fly, you fools!" and was gone.
The fires went out and the darkness stretched further still. Everybody stood rooted. Adariel let a small cry escape her. Part of her former self rejoiced that the only one who could betray her secret was gone, only to be smothered by her freer self. She was disgusted with herself, and ran to the gate that was now in sight. Once outside, she fell to her knees for a while in the sunlight that dazzled her eyes and renewed her heart. She cried.
2.1 End of Chapter 4
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