Thanks for the reviews! I love them to pieces! Quick note to MornieGalad—this is sorta a mix of the books and movies (although yeah, more movie than book), but also AU, as you can especially see in this chapter. Thanks though! Also, I'm sorta sick right now and having trouble focusing, so sorry if this has mistakes (or seems to be missing sentences…lol). I'll correct them as soon as I notice. (Hey! Now I have an excuse for my poor writing! Yay!)
Princes of the Earth
Chapter Four
Hir Mor
"This is no mine—it's a tomb!" Boromir declared.
The Hobbits gave a cry of surprise and disgust as they stumbled backwards over a rotted corpse. Frodo felt something wet and slippery wrap around his ankle, and an instant later, before he could cry out, he was yanked backwards. He fell hard on the ground and flipped over, trying to brace himself with his arms and free leg as he was pulled toward the water, crying out in panic.
"Mister Frodo!" Sam exclaimed, the first to spring forward, hacking wildly with his short sword. The nearly-severed tentacle quickly released Frodo and retreated into the water. But before Frodo even had a chance to move, a dozen more of the snake-like projections exploded out of the water, throwing back the other Hobbits and grabbing Frodo again. He screamed as he was violently hauled into the air above the monster's giant head.
Aragorn and Boromir charged into the water and began slashing away at the huge tentacles while Gandalf and Gimli held back the other Hobbits from rushing to certain doom. Legolas slowly strung an arrow to his bow, watching closely for the right moment. He saw it and let his arrow fly, right into the arm-like projection that held the struggling Frodo. This, however, had little effect on the monster, and the Elf quickly strung another arrow.
Aragorn had finally fought his way over to the tentacle that held Frodo, just as he was being lowered down to the creature's mouth, and quickly sliced it in two. Boromir caught the Hobbit squarely in his arms as Frodo fell many feet through the air, and he and Aragorn ran as fast as they could back into the Mines.
Legolas shot another arrow right into the center of the beast's eye before quickly ushering the Hobbits into the mines as the Watcher drew back with a cry of pain.
As quickly as they could, the Fellowship fled into the stone chamber, and not a moment too soon. The air was filled with near-deafening cracks as the Watcher recovered from the blow and wrapped many of its remaining tentacles on the Door and the rock surrounding it, and pulled.
No one spoke or moved for several long minutes until finally all the rock settled and there was not a sound to be heard but their labored breathing.
With a sudden burst of light, Gandalf lit up his staff and resolutely tapped it against the ground. "It is settled then. We have no choice but to face the long dark of Moria."
Legolas hid a shudder, already feeling the dark walls closing in on him. As an Elf, he naturally disliked caves, much preferring to be outside in the fresh air, surrounded by nature. True, his own father's palace was a sort of cave, built into the mountainside, but that was much different from this. The Elven cave had many windows and shafts to let in light and fresh air, and there were always many torches and fires burning.
It was nothing like that here. Perhaps at one time Khazad-dûm had been a grand, beautiful place overflowing with wealth and light, but since the goblins had overrun it, it was hardly more than a vast, dark cave.
Scene divider!
The Fellowship waited with baited breath as the last sharp bangs of the skeleton and chained bucket Pippin had knocked into the old well finally faded to nothing. Just as they let out their sighs of relief, a dull pounding was heard as if from far away, resounding throughout the cavern.
The words of Gandalf as he read the old Dwarf book echoed in their minds. "Drums. Drums in the deep. We cannot get out. They are coming."
Screeches suddenly filled the air alarmingly close to the stone room the Fellowship was now stationed in. Aragorn and Boromir ran to the rotten wood doors and barricaded them as best as possible with whatever lay nearby as the others readied their weapons.
The screeches and yells of Orcs drew closer and closer until there was a great crashing on the doors. Orcs pulled out small pieces of the rotted wood with their swords and axes, but were immediately shot by Legolas or Aragorn.
The doors exploded open with a might push, and waves of the foul Orcs flooded in. The Fellowship soon had their hands full slaying the beasts. A crash alerted them to a new presence, and they all looked up in dread to see a cave troll smash its way into the chamber, a huge club in its hand.
The Orcs continued pouring in, and still more were in the hallway leading to the room, trying to push their way in.
But suddenly all the Orcs in the hallway went silent for a moment before screaming madly again, but this time out of fear and hate. The push to get into the stone chamber became a mad dash to get out of the hall, and away from whatever gave them such fear.
Merry laughter trickled in above the angry yells of the Orcs, and the Fellowship stared in wonder as the beasts ran right past them, trying to escape. Even the troll roared in fright and stampeded past, trampling the Orcs that got in his way to the opposite exit.
But the Orcs were not so lucky. The foul creatures surrounding the entrance and the hall screeched in terror one last time before being silenced by the sharp end of a weapon.
The Fellowship started in surprise when the path of dead Orcs spread inside to reveal an Elf. He expertly wielded two long silver knives, an excited smile on his face and glint in his eye as he cut down the Orcs. "Kill them!" he shouted to the Company, snapping them out of their daze as they did as he said.
In no time, all the rest of the Orcs lay dead on the stone floor, or had fled after the troll. The stranger quickly wiped off his knives and sheathed them at his belt. "Stay," he said. "We are safe here. You may rest a moment."
"Who are you, stranger, that strikes such terror into the miserable hearts of the Orcs?" Aragorn asked in amazement.
"I am called Mor," the Elf replied, still with the smile, "and I make my home in these mines."
The Company felt themselves gaping. Another being besides Orcs and other creatures of the Darkness living in Moria after its fall was unheard of, much less an Elf. But then again, Mor certainly did look as if he lived there.
He had black hair and wore all black and dark brown, as his name suggested. However, his skin was extremely fair, and his sharp, ever-alert eyes were a pure silver. The only apparent weapons they could see were the two long, silver-hafted knives at his belt.
"H-how long have you lived here, Mister Elf?" Pippin asked in awe.
"Much longer than you have been around," Mor answered teasingly. "Almost before even you were born, Master Elf," he gestured to Legolas, and his smiled faded almost imperceptibly.
"That is a very long time," Gandalf observed. "What brings one of the Firstborn to dwell so long underground, even before Moria fell?"
"Fate," he answered simply. "I belong here."
"That was an impressive display a while ago," Boromir said, wondering at that last statement. "What have you done that makes those vile creatures hate and fear you so?"
"I have killed many of their kind," Mor replied gravely. "Over time, they learned to fear me, and even avoid me. Their inability to harm me causes them to hate me."
He smiled again. "But we must be leaving this place if you wish to reach the East Gate before nightfall. I have told you of myself, now, come, tell me about yourselves as we walk."
They did as he said, leaving the stone chamber at an easy pace. He bid them tell him of their Quest thus far, and they paused, uncertain of how much to reveal to this stranger.
"Worry not," he laughed. "I know all about your Quest. We see much—more than you know. It is such a heavy burden to be placed on one so small." His eyes darkened as he looked at Frodo. "But such things are not to be spoken of, especially not here." He quickly turned his eyes back to the others. "So come, tell me of your journey so far."
So they did, telling from their departure from Rivendell, up until Caradhras.
"Ah, so you attempted the Mountain Pass, did you?" Mor said. "Then you have surely met my brother, Los."
"Brother!" they all cried in surprise.
"So you are the 'we' he spoke of!" Gimli exclaimed.
Mor laughed. "Yes, brother. Although I admit we do not look very much alike." It was true. Despite the pale skin and similar features, they were the exact opposite. Where Los was light, Mor was dark, from clothing to hair.
"So why did you not take the pass over Caradhras?" Mor queried. "I would think that all here but the Dwarf would prefer the above ground, and I am positive that my brother offered to aid you."
There was an uneasy silence for a while until Pippin broke it with, "It was Frodo who chose!" and pointed accusingly at the other.
"Pippin!" Merry whispered harshly, jabbing his elbow into his younger cousin's ribs.
"Ah, I see," Mor said with a knowing smile. "My brother can be quite intimidating sometimes." And he left it at that, for which the Company was grateful. To evoke the wrath of one who held such fear over the Orcs, and for good reason, did not seem the wisest thing to do, even though it appeared nearly impossible to do so.
Mor dropped back to walk beside Legolas, who brought up the rear of the group, and began talking to him in low tones as they continued walking. He wanted to know everything of the outside world, though he already knew much. He was especially interested in the Elven realms, particularly Mirkwood—or Greenwood the Great, as he still called it—though he would not say why.
He made Legolas tell everything he could, and to his surprise, the younger Elf found himself most willing to. Somehow, it just seemed right talking to this stranger so openly.
Mor was grieved when he heard of the spreading shadow over the Forest, though he had long known of it, and offered only by way of explanation that he had known Greenwood when it was in its prime, bathed in beauty and light.
Gimli watched the two Elves as they conversed for many long minutes, wishing himself to talk to the mysterious Mor, although Gandalf held him back from doing so. The Dwarf knew that if Mor had really lived in the Mines as long as he said he had, then he would have seen the restoration by the Dwarves, led by his cousin Balin, then the eventual overthrow again by the Orcs.
Finally Mor left Legolas's side to walk beside Gandalf. They were entering a cavernous hall with many huge pillars supporting an unseen ceiling high above, wrapped in shadows. Mor raised his hand, and it was as if the shadows rolled back, enabling the Fellowship to see much farther, to the very end of the rows upon rows of mammoth supporting pillars.
Ignoring their gasps of surprise, he turned to Gimli. "It was not my role to interfere in the taking of Moria nor the battles against the Dwarves, though I watched all from the shadows and helped where I could whilst remaining unseen."
He laughed as Gimli's eyes widened further in surprise. "No, Master Dwarf, I am no mind-reader. Much is plainly written upon your face."
Mor suddenly fell silent, the smile disappearing from his face as he cocked his head slightly to the side, as if listening to something. The Fellowship likewise went still, trusting in Mor's senses and instincts.
His eyes slid shut for a quick moment and Legolas distinctly heard him mutter, "Oh, not good."
"Mor? What is it?" Gandalf questioned.
"Run!" Mor shouted. "If ever you wish to reach the Bridge of Khazad-dûm, you must run now! We have delayed too long."
The Fellowship jumped at this sudden outburst, following him as he took the lead running. About halfway through the hall, Mor unexpectedly turned to the side instead of continuing straight ahead to the end where a broad staircase descended. Legolas looked back and gasped as flames suddenly shot up from the staircase.
"A Balrog!" Gandalf realized.
Mor quickly led them through a short hallway which opened onto a long, winding staircase that descended to the level of the Bridge, now within sight. They soon came to a gap within the staircase that was not too wide, but posed a danger in crossing simply from the sheer drop beneath it.
Legolas was the first to jump across, followed by Gandalf, then Gimli, who barely made it with the help of Legolas. Boromir leaped next with Merry and Pippin each tucked under one broad arm. The force of his jump caused a small part of the old stone to crumble and give way, falling into the deep blackness below.
"You next," Mor commanded Aragorn. At the Man's immediate protest, he assured him that he would toss the remaining two Hobbits over to him. So Aragorn did as commanded and nimbly leapt across, turning to receive the first Hobbit.
Mor took a hold of the back of Sam's shirt, the Hobbit's eyes wide in fear, and easily threw him across to Aragorn's waiting arms. However, this sudden action only served to crumble the narrow staircase further, and Mor grabbed Frodo's hand to haul him back.
Frodo gasped at the contact, suddenly realizing something. Mor's hands were frighteningly cold, just as Los's had been. He briefly wondered why, as they were no longer on the snow-covered mountain. In fact, Frodo felt sweat beginning to bead on his forehead as more flames leapt up behind them.
His thoughts were cut off, however, as he was suddenly hoisted up by the back of his shirt, and went sailing through the air, landing safely in Legolas's arms a moment later.
Mor then gave a mighty leap, landing safely on the other side and immediately pushing them onwards again. They ran faster as the Bridge neared, and the Hobbits did not hesitate in crossing it, despite their natural fear of heights, followed by Gimli and the Humans.
Gandalf stopped to look back at the nearing flames, and at that moment, a great and terrible form of shadow leapt up from a fissure in the stone ground.
"Go!" Mor shouted, giving Gandalf a definitive push toward the Bridge. "I shall deal with this. They need you now. Go!"
Legolas was about to follow Gandalf across when he turned back, and Mor immediately grasped him in a firm hug. "We shall meet again, brother," he said surprisingly, for although it was not uncommon for Elves to call one another brother, it was rare to do so on the first day of their meeting.
"Farewell," Legolas said simply, not able to say anything else. He quickly turned and fled across the bridge.
Mor followed him halfway across, and with a final smile at Legolas, turned to face the approaching Balrog.
"You shall not pass!" Mor shouted, unsheathing his two silver knives and holding them crossed before him.
"No!" Legolas shouted, but before he could move forward, he was grabbed by Aragorn and forced toward the East Gate, where streamed in welcomed natural light.
Mor smiled as the Balrog took a step onto the Bridge, swinging its fiery whip. "You've become more than I could have ever dreamed, dear Legolas," he whispered.
End of chapter. Hehe. No, he wasn't talking to the Balrog. Hehe. Legolas the Balrog. Lol. I know he stole Gandalf's famous line, but it was just too good to pass up! Next chapter is rather (really really) short (only four pages on notebook paper), so I'll probably give it to you early if I feel nice. (: Did this chapter seem extremely rushed to anyone else? Oh well.