I don't think that I have ever run so fast in my life as I did then. The
noise of the orcs behind us leant wings to our feet as we thundered through
the halls. I didn't look behind me, because I knew what I would see.
Hundreds of orcs pouring out over every crevice, spilling down from the
ceiling and scampering down the pillars like overgrown spiders.
They surrounded us, hooting, jeering and brandishing their weapons. We prepared ourselves for a last stand, Gimli and Gandalf looking as though they would take on the whole hoard by themselves.
Then there came a rumbling growl, and the orcs screeched in fear. Another growl, this one longer, deeper, and almost holding a note of command. From the far end of the hall there came a flickering red glow.
The orcs screeched once more, before they fled in a disorganised mass. Gimli laughed as if he had scared them off all by himself.
But I knew different. I knew what this 'new devilry' was. And though I had read the books, and the books before it, I still had no clue how to defeat it. I was no Glorfindel, just Jen. And even if I had known how to defeat it, I couldn't, because it was in this way, that the future would come to pass.
"A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" Gandalf said, his voice rising to a shout.
Spurred on by his words, we fled faster.
We passed through an archway, and Boromir stumbled on the edge of a sheer drop. Legolas pulled him to safety. Another roar came from behind us, and Aragorn moved to defend the rear, but Gandalf stopped him.
"Lead them on Aragorn! The bridge is near!" he commanded him. Aragorn looked mutinous, and Gandalf gave him a hard shove. "Do as I say! Swords are no more use here."
It was here that I finally saw Gandalf in a different light, as an Istari, a servant of powers that I could only imagine.
Aragorn led us onward, scrambling down flight after flight of stairs, trying to keep our balance, and our speed.
We came to a gap in the stairs, which Legolas easily hurdled, and turned to face us. Gandalf was the next to cross, steadied by Legolas. It was then that the arrows started. From high up, orcs look aim, and loosed their arrows down at us. Aragorn and Legolas did their best to respond, but their main aim was to get us all out of Moria as soon as possible.
Legolas beckoned to me, and I took a deep breath.
"Just like doing the long jump." I muttered to myself, taking a step back, before hurling myself forward. The feeling that ran through me as my feet passed over the gaping hole, I do not want to repeat. Boromir came next, with Merry and Pippin tucked under his arms. Aragorn then tossed Sam across. Then it was Gimli's turn. Aragorn was going to toss him across as well, but Gimli forestalled him. I had to turn avert my eyes, so I didn't see Gimli's face when he said that line.
"Nobody tosses a dwarf."
I had to turn away, so as not to giggle when Legolas grabbed Gimli's beard. It probably wasn't all that humorous, but in this situation, it would have had me in stitches should I have watched it.
I couldn't watch what happened with Aragorn and Frodo, and settled for keeping my back turned, and just listening.
The thud as the falling stone stair section hit the one we were standing on vibrated through my entire body, and made me stagger. But we were all safe and well. For the moment.
We ran onwards. Behind us roared a wall of flame, the heat almost unbearable. Gandalf lagged behind, and I knew what was in his mind.
One by one, we crossed the slender bridge. I tried not to look down, and just kept running, banging into Boromir.
We all turned, and stared at the scene that was unfolding on the bridge. Gandalf had not followed us, but instead remained on the bridge. The flames roared up in front of him, but he did not flinch back.
Then suddenly, with a deafening roar, the flames reared up, higher and higher, towering above the almost fragile figure of Gandalf. There stood the Balrog, in all its fearsome splendour.
"You shall not pass!" Gandalf declared firmly.
The Balrog roared, and straightened, shadows sweeping out behind it like wings, as flames kindled all over its body.
"I am a servant of the secret fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun! Go back to the shadow!"
The Balrog drew a sword out of nowhere, made of the flame of its own body, and slashed it down toward Gandalf. It impacted on Gandalf's own sword, and shattered into fiery pieces. The Balrog snarled, and created a whip, which whined and cracked through the air.
Gandalf raised his staff and sword together, slamming them down on the bridge in a flash of white light, crying "You shall not pass!"
The Balrog withdrew slightly, its nostrils dilating as it considered. But then it stepped forward, confronting Gandalf. But the bridge collapsed under it, and it tumbled downwards amongst the stone. Gandalf sighed, and leaned against his staff, looking weary. As he turned to head back to where we stood, awestruck by what we had just witnessed, the whip of the Balrog came flickering through the air.
It snaked around Gandalfs ankle, and as the Balrog fell, it dragged Gandalf with it. His staff and sword already falling, Gandalf managed to cling onto the rough edges of the stone.
"Gandalf!" Frodo shrieked, trying to run down to where Gandalf clung, but Boromir restrained him. We stared in horror.
"Fly you fools!" Gandalf gasped, before his fingers grip loosened, and he plummeted down after the Balrog.
Frodo screamed, a heart wrenching cry. Tears flowed down our faces, as we turned and ran, up and out, into the sunlight.
Our tears could have filled a river as we staggered out into the blinding sunlight. We mourned Gandalf.
I cried to, for although I knew the truth of what happened, and what would happen, the moment was no less heart wrenching.
((OOC - Phew! I only hope that I've managed to do justice in my writing to the scene in the film. That was one of the hardest chapters I've had to write so far for this. And in case anyone was wondering, after they reach Parth Galen, yes, Jen is going to continue on into "The Two Towers.". Thank you for reading this!))
They surrounded us, hooting, jeering and brandishing their weapons. We prepared ourselves for a last stand, Gimli and Gandalf looking as though they would take on the whole hoard by themselves.
Then there came a rumbling growl, and the orcs screeched in fear. Another growl, this one longer, deeper, and almost holding a note of command. From the far end of the hall there came a flickering red glow.
The orcs screeched once more, before they fled in a disorganised mass. Gimli laughed as if he had scared them off all by himself.
But I knew different. I knew what this 'new devilry' was. And though I had read the books, and the books before it, I still had no clue how to defeat it. I was no Glorfindel, just Jen. And even if I had known how to defeat it, I couldn't, because it was in this way, that the future would come to pass.
"A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" Gandalf said, his voice rising to a shout.
Spurred on by his words, we fled faster.
We passed through an archway, and Boromir stumbled on the edge of a sheer drop. Legolas pulled him to safety. Another roar came from behind us, and Aragorn moved to defend the rear, but Gandalf stopped him.
"Lead them on Aragorn! The bridge is near!" he commanded him. Aragorn looked mutinous, and Gandalf gave him a hard shove. "Do as I say! Swords are no more use here."
It was here that I finally saw Gandalf in a different light, as an Istari, a servant of powers that I could only imagine.
Aragorn led us onward, scrambling down flight after flight of stairs, trying to keep our balance, and our speed.
We came to a gap in the stairs, which Legolas easily hurdled, and turned to face us. Gandalf was the next to cross, steadied by Legolas. It was then that the arrows started. From high up, orcs look aim, and loosed their arrows down at us. Aragorn and Legolas did their best to respond, but their main aim was to get us all out of Moria as soon as possible.
Legolas beckoned to me, and I took a deep breath.
"Just like doing the long jump." I muttered to myself, taking a step back, before hurling myself forward. The feeling that ran through me as my feet passed over the gaping hole, I do not want to repeat. Boromir came next, with Merry and Pippin tucked under his arms. Aragorn then tossed Sam across. Then it was Gimli's turn. Aragorn was going to toss him across as well, but Gimli forestalled him. I had to turn avert my eyes, so I didn't see Gimli's face when he said that line.
"Nobody tosses a dwarf."
I had to turn away, so as not to giggle when Legolas grabbed Gimli's beard. It probably wasn't all that humorous, but in this situation, it would have had me in stitches should I have watched it.
I couldn't watch what happened with Aragorn and Frodo, and settled for keeping my back turned, and just listening.
The thud as the falling stone stair section hit the one we were standing on vibrated through my entire body, and made me stagger. But we were all safe and well. For the moment.
We ran onwards. Behind us roared a wall of flame, the heat almost unbearable. Gandalf lagged behind, and I knew what was in his mind.
One by one, we crossed the slender bridge. I tried not to look down, and just kept running, banging into Boromir.
We all turned, and stared at the scene that was unfolding on the bridge. Gandalf had not followed us, but instead remained on the bridge. The flames roared up in front of him, but he did not flinch back.
Then suddenly, with a deafening roar, the flames reared up, higher and higher, towering above the almost fragile figure of Gandalf. There stood the Balrog, in all its fearsome splendour.
"You shall not pass!" Gandalf declared firmly.
The Balrog roared, and straightened, shadows sweeping out behind it like wings, as flames kindled all over its body.
"I am a servant of the secret fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun! Go back to the shadow!"
The Balrog drew a sword out of nowhere, made of the flame of its own body, and slashed it down toward Gandalf. It impacted on Gandalf's own sword, and shattered into fiery pieces. The Balrog snarled, and created a whip, which whined and cracked through the air.
Gandalf raised his staff and sword together, slamming them down on the bridge in a flash of white light, crying "You shall not pass!"
The Balrog withdrew slightly, its nostrils dilating as it considered. But then it stepped forward, confronting Gandalf. But the bridge collapsed under it, and it tumbled downwards amongst the stone. Gandalf sighed, and leaned against his staff, looking weary. As he turned to head back to where we stood, awestruck by what we had just witnessed, the whip of the Balrog came flickering through the air.
It snaked around Gandalfs ankle, and as the Balrog fell, it dragged Gandalf with it. His staff and sword already falling, Gandalf managed to cling onto the rough edges of the stone.
"Gandalf!" Frodo shrieked, trying to run down to where Gandalf clung, but Boromir restrained him. We stared in horror.
"Fly you fools!" Gandalf gasped, before his fingers grip loosened, and he plummeted down after the Balrog.
Frodo screamed, a heart wrenching cry. Tears flowed down our faces, as we turned and ran, up and out, into the sunlight.
Our tears could have filled a river as we staggered out into the blinding sunlight. We mourned Gandalf.
I cried to, for although I knew the truth of what happened, and what would happen, the moment was no less heart wrenching.
((OOC - Phew! I only hope that I've managed to do justice in my writing to the scene in the film. That was one of the hardest chapters I've had to write so far for this. And in case anyone was wondering, after they reach Parth Galen, yes, Jen is going to continue on into "The Two Towers.". Thank you for reading this!))