Again, I'm really sorry it's so short. But guess what? I got my permit!

Chapter Eleven: Sweet Valar We Are Going To Die

We are making good progress, strangely enough. You'd think we'd be moving really slow, but we keep up a good pace. I was assigned the job of reading the map, since Belgaer and Browne claimed they didn't have much experience in the field. I personally think they were lying through their teeth. Will get them back.

I don't really blame Arwen and Eowyn. Their map-reading skills have gotten rusty after being locked in the dungeon for so long. I would go insane in their—bored out of my mind. I'm surprised at how restrained they are. If I were them, the moment I could escape, instead of setting off on a mission to overthrow them, I would storm into the throne room and decapitate them on the spot. Once they're dead, maybe their magic wears off…

That would've been soooo much easier and I'm really regretting not trying that first.

But on reflection, I'd probably just end up in jail with the other two, and I could bask in the knowledge that my dear mother is slowly falling to pieces.

I'm such a good daughter.

"Oh dear…" Browne said, looking around quizzically. "Are we taking this path?"

I looked up from the map with a sour expression. Serves them right for making me the one who gives the directions. "Why?" I questioned, attempting to sound genuinely curious, but instead just sounding slightly annoyed.

"Well…" she hesitated. "This path WILL lead us to Lothlorien…"

"And the problem is…?" I tapped my foot.

"…In the process, it will lead us through…Moria…"

My jaw dropped and I stared at the map. I traced my finger all the way through the path until it fell on the little word. Moria. THIS is why I should've planned this out before hand! THIS is why the elleth who LIVES AROUND HERE should be leading!

"Oh…well…" my voice broke slightly, as I panicked at what to do. "We'll just go back and take this path over here."

Arwen shook her head as she glanced at the map over my shoulder. "We mustn't delay, or Frodo and the Hobbits will beat us to Gondor and problems could arise."

"Namely, more creepy-hobbit-seduction." Eowyn clarified.

I suppressed a shudder. What I will do for those Hobbits!

Belgaer looked ill. "So we're going with the Path of Certain Death, then?"

I tried to find something good about this suicide-mission. "Well, just think, we'll…uh…be following the same path as the Fellowship?"

Belgaer perked up. "Cool! Let's go!" she grabbed Browne's hand and skipped off with her. I shook my head. They were insane.

"Well, think of it as a shortcut!" Eowyn beamed, realizing that while I had succeeded in cheering on the others, I myself was having SEVERE doubts about the outcome of this journey.

"Through hell," I muttered, just barely audible. I hope she didn't catch that.

Of course, Eowyn WOULDN'T be scared of a few orcs. She's faced much worse. Faced and demolished, I should say. She's like a killing machine when she wants to be. It's borderline psychotic.

Just kidding. I'm rambling, aren't I? It's just….VALAR! It's MORIA, for Eru's sake!

Moria. Granted, I'm not as big a coward a some, but I'm not really looking forward to this. Why? Hmm, let's think about this for a second. I am grateful that Gandalf killed that Balrog. But there are still orcs, right? Multitudes of beady eyed and mutilated Elves. Elves! Kinda like me. Except I'm only half. That's the creepiest thing to think about—that orcs were once Elves and that a living thing can be that tortured and still live. But I'm getting way too serious. The point is, there are ten zillion of them and five of us. Less then the Fellowship even!

And they have those bulgy eyes so they can see in the dark waaaay better than we can.

"I have good eyesight." Arwen scoffs, sounding miffed. I realize that I have been talking out loud.

"Oh yes, Arwen the Great, I had forgotten that you are without fault!" I teased. "Please find it in your heart to forgive me while I perform my daily worshipping of you!"

"Ah. Sarcasm." Eowyn laughs.

"I know thee well." Belgaer adds.

I sigh, feeling like the only normal one again, as our feet carry us closer and closer to a dark, large, enclosed, orc-infested space. I say we blow up Moria. Then it would be a nice little path. When I can see the SUN and SKY. Grr.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize how far we had walked. The conversation stopped abruptly and I looked up in time to keep from falling into the lake. We were already there! The door was smashed, and it'll be hard getting in past that rubble. We'll be clearing that out all night. I can't remember what it is that did this…….The Watcher! That's it!

Oh. Yay. Forgot about him.

Belgaer hops off to start lifting rocks away from the entrance. It seems like cruel irony to be working so hard to get into a place I really don't want to be in.

The Valar must hate me or something. I'm serious, for being a spawn of Starr. And the sad part?

I really don't blame them. At all.

Browne and I glance at each other, shrug, and join in on the effort. I'd rather just watch them toil, but I doubt that that would go over well. Eowyn and Arwen are singing (SINGING) as we work. Sure, let's wake up the oversized fish, that'll be good!

We are so going to die.