DISCLAIMER: please see Chapter One.
A/N: Most of this chapter is right out of the movie (with all respect to Peter Jackson). I took liberties with certain descriptions, though. Please read it, though---it makes the last scene even more appreciative.
CHAPTER FOUR: Shadows and Flames
Gimli ran as he hadn't in a long time, keeping one eye on their path and one eye behind them. Gandalf had now taken the rearmost position, herding the others with an urgency none had seen in him before. Sweat ran down Gimli's face---the temperature in the mines had risen noticeably. He could see a strange reddish glow reflected on the walls and the backs of the people before them.
They ran into a short passageway and Boromir started down a flight of stairs. The stairs ended abruptly in crumbled rock and a drop hundreds of feet. The tall man swayed, trying to keep his balance, and dropped his torch. Quick as a cat, Legolas leaped forward, wrapped his arms around Boromir's chest, and fell backward to pull Boromir back. They landed hard on the stone steps.
"Gandalf!" cried Aragorn.
Leaning heavily against the wall, Gandalf looked at Aragorn. He could see the flames behind them, reflected on Aragorn's face. The ranger's eyes were wide with fear. Beyond the Fellowship, beyond the chasm where the stairs ended, Gandalf could see their destination.
"Lead them on, Aragorn," he commanded. "The bridge is near."
Aragorn turned and looked. In the glow of the wizard's light, he could just make out a massive stone stone bridge stretching across the chasm. A loud roar roughly jerked everyone's attention back to the threat behind them. Aragorn turned that direction.
"Do as I say! Swords are no more use here!" Gandalf commanded.
Flames licked at the walls behind them and another bellow from their unseen pursuer added speed to their flight down yet another passageway and a set of stairs. Far below the stairs was a river of fire and the heat and fumes were nearly unbearable. Then the Fellowship stopped in horror---a section some eight to ten feet long was missing from the stairs. And they could hear movement in the passage behind them---something big amidst the flame.
Gandalf looked at Legolas, lightest and most nimble. "Can you make it?"
Legolas merely nodded and moved back a short ways. He ran two paces and leaped the gap, landing lightly on the other side. Terror showed in his eyes as he looked toward the passage beyond the Fellowship and the stairs shook with a heavy impact, crumbling rocks and sending boulders into the lava below. Then his gaze focussed on Gandalf and he gestured.
"Gandalf!" he called.
Gandalf leaped next, landing near the Elf. Suddenly an arrow whipped past the wizard's head. More clattered against the stairs or missed entirely and fell into the fiery depths. Gimli raised his eyes, trying to find the Orcs that were firing them. Legolas spun around, nocking arrow to string, and fired rapidly into the darkness. Several bodies tumbled out of unseen recesses and fell.
Boromir picked up Merry and Pippin, one under each arm, and ran down the stairs to make his jump. He easily cleared the opening and landed heavily on the other side. Legolas and Gandalf pulled the Hobbits free and pushed them on their way. Aragorn then picked up Sam and threw him across the gap. Boromir easily caught him and set him down. Then Aragorn turned to Gimli.
Gimli held up a warning hand. "Nobody tosses a Dwarf," he growled.
With a roar of determination, he jumped. His toes found purchase on the far side but he didn't have enough forward momentum and began to fall backwards. Legolas' hands shot out and entangled themselves in the first thing they found contact with---Gimli's thick red beard. The Dwarf cried out in pain and humiliation..
"Not the beard!" he cried.
Legolas shifted one hand to Gimli's wide belt and hauled him to firmer footing. Then all turned to look back to Aragorn and Frodo. The pair had retreated a dozen paces as the stairs before them cracked and shattered. Too much distance separated them now to have even a chance of leaping. The stairs trembled and rocked. Far behind them, the fire was growing brighter. Rocks now cracked and separated from the cliff regularly.
"Too much heat!" Gimli exclaimed. "The fire is shattering the rock!"
Almost as though he had predicted it, an enormous rock broke free of the cavern ceiling and crashed onto the stairs behind Aragorn and Frodo. The impact smashed through the structure and part of its support column. Already weakened by the other damage, the stairs wobbled and began to sway dangerously. Aragorn grabbed Frodo's arm to steady him and stood as close to the edge of the stairs as he dared. Finally, the support column broke and the portion of stairs they were on toppled toward the others. Aragorn jumped, taking Frodo with him, and they were running before the impact collapsed even more.
They ran into a hall and around a great pillar, toward the bridge that was now clearly visible. Flames reflected on the walls around them and fire roared behind them. Something heavy thudded onto the floor and both heat and flame intensified until their eyes ached and sweat blinded them. They raced across the bridge.
"YOU CANNOT PASS!"
Gandalf's angry order brought the Fellowship to a halt. Gandalf had stopped in the middle of the bridge and turned to face their foe, staff and sword raised. An indistinct shape that dwarfed even the cave troll towered over him, surrounded by flames. Two shadowy wings spread out from either side and eyes glowed white-hot. The creature raised its arms and burst into flames. Fire swirled behind its head and enormous black horns like burning hair.
"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor." The white light of Gandalf's staff seemed to drive back the dark flames of the Balrog. "The dark flame will not avail you, Flame of Udun!"
Blowing out a stream of hot smoke, the creature extended its arms, black claws extended. A massive sword of swirling flames appeared in one hand, a flame-tongued whip in the other, and it took a vicious swing at Gandalf. Gandalf just got his sword up in time to block the attack. With a brilliant flash of silvery light, the Balrog's sword shattered.
"Go back to the shadow!" commanded Gandalf. He held his sword and staff together, then drove the butt of the staff into the bridge. "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"
Flame trickled from the beast's maw as it regarded the wizard and his actions. It peered down at the bridge for a moment, then set one massive, cloven hoof on the bridge in front of Gandalf. Nostrils flaring, it moved forward another step. Its triumphant roar changed to a scream of rage as the bridge collapsed beneath it and it fell into the abyss.
Gandalf nearly collapsed on his staff, breathing heavily, as the Fellowship rushed toward him. He turned wearily and smiled. Suddenly, there was a distant crack and ropes of flame wrapped around him, yanking him off the bridge. He managed to catch the edge, straining to support himself and the weight of the Balrog. He turned a weary gaze on Frodo.
"Fly, you fools," he whispered.
Then he was gone.
Frodo screamed and rushed forward. Gimli helped Boromir restrain him and push him in the direction of a flight of stairs going up, leading to bright daylight. They passed Aragorn, staring at the ruined bridge in disbelief. An Orc arrow shattered on the wall near his head. Dodging, he turned and followed the others.
NEXT SCENE
The bright sunlight hit like a physical blow, almost obscene in the wake of Gandalf's sacrifice. Gimli stood beside a dazed Boromir, pounding the haft of his axe against the ground as he tried to contain his emotions. He could hear the Hobbits sobbing in grief and shock. Legolas stood off by himself. Gimli felt anger boil up inside---the blasted Elf seemed untouched by what had just happened.
Aragorn focussed his attention on wiping his sword clean of black Orc blood. Finally he resheathed the blade and called, "Legolas, get them up."
Legolas turned, showing a face lined with shock and grief. He stared at Aragorn uncertainly, then slowly walked to Sam and started to pull him to his feet. Boromir angrily jumped to his feet.
"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!"
"There is no time." Aragorn's voice held a sharp edge. "By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs and time is against us. We must reach the woods of Lothlorien. We'll be safe there---the Orcs will not follow."
"That is not what we say in Gondor. There is a great evil there."
"The only evil in Lothlorien is what someone brings with them."
Gimli leaned his axe against his shoulder. "I have no fondness for the hospitality of Elves," he said, "but I think it far preferable to that of the Orcs. Lead on, Aragorn."
NEXT SCENE
In spite of his efforts to remain awake, Gimli dozed even before the rough camp was completed. Sunset had quickly caught them as they left the mountains and the Hobbits had been so exhausted they had to be carried. Aragorn had finally called a halt when it was too dark to see---they dared not risk a fire with so many Orcs about. The safety of the woods was still a day away. The Hobbits had fallen asleep without food or complaint.
Soft, lyrical voices brought Gimli out of his doze. Aragorn and Legolas stood off to one side, speaking in Elvish. Gimli pursed his lips in annoyance, wondering what bothered the Elf now. Aragorn clapped a hand on Legolas' shoulder and returned to the camp while Legolas moved away.
Gimli waited patiently until he heard heavy breathing coming from Aragorn, then rose. With a stealth that few would expect from someone of his bulk wearing armor, he left the camp and headed in the direction the Elf had gone. He had gone a few hundred feet when he heard a quiet, sad sound that could only be one of Legolas' songs. Almost as quickly as he heard it, the sound was gone.
"What is it, Gimli?" Legolas' voice called softly through the darkness.
"I came to tell you...well, why don't you go back to camp and let me stand watch? I'm not that tired and---"
Legolas laughed softly as he appeared out of the darkness. "You are as tired as the rest. Sleep. I'll stand watch again this night."
Gimli folded his arms, frowning. "And I suppose you're going to tell me that a pointy-eared Elf princeling doesn't need any rest?"
Legolas suddenly froze, looking at him with wide eyes. "You know who I am?" he asked.
"Aye. I've known since the council," Gimli confirmed. "My father says you have the look of your father about you. And the manners as well, the way you and Aragorn insist on speaking in Elvish all the time."
Legolas frowned. "You will not let me sing and now you would deny me the right to speak in my own language?"
"I didn't say you couldn't sing," Gimli said defensively. "I just said you were keeping the rest of us awake." He thought he saw a ghost of a smile on Legolas' face. "What were you singing just now, anyway?"
"A lament for Gandalf." Legolas looked away with a sigh but not before Gimli saw a lone tear slide down his cheek. "I have known him all my years---he was present for my birth. I will miss him."
Gimli looked anxiously at him and glanced back toward camp. "I have heard it said an Elf can die from grief. You're not---"
"Nay. Have no fear there." Legolas placed a hand over his heart. "But there is a great emptiness here. And it will not go away soon."
Gimli stroked his beard thoughtfully. "It's not good to keep such feelings bottled up inside," he said at long last. "If singing is how you show your emotions, go ahead. I'll not stop you."
He turned back to camp and heard Legolas begin his song again.
To Be Continued