Why have I ever suggested to travel through the Mines of Moria? I knew in my heart that it might be deserted, destroyed by some evil newly awoken. But in my head I thought that my cousin, Balin, would welcome all of us and we would have a comfortable rest before we went to our destination: Mount Doom. I was wrong.
It was at Cahadras, the evil mountain. We were fine until the Elf of our group, Legolas of the Mirkwood realms, had detected a voice. An evil voice of magick, it cried: "Cuiva nwalca Carnirasse; nai yarvaxea rasselya! (Wake up cruel Redhorn! May your horn be bloodstained!)" Legolas, with his Elvish hearing, heard it immidiately. "There is a fell voice in the air!" the Wood Elf warned, looking to the South. He, unlike the rest of us, could walk on the snow lightly and did not seem to be affected by the cold as much as us. Lucky Elf.
Gandalf knew who that was. Gandalf was the Wizard. The Wizard, the Maiar, if I might say. "It's Saruman!" he yelled, peering through the snow. A heavy blizzard was upon us.
Aragorn, the Ranger and also lineage of Isildur, shouted over the noise. "He's trying to bring down the mountain! Gandalf, we must turn back!"
"No!" Gandalf shouted back. He stepped out to the ledge of the bank, and with his staff raised, he tried to soothe the rage of the storm and the mountain. His firm voice bellowed out into the air, carrying power that was to be revealed in the Mines. "Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith! (Sleep, Caradhras, be still, lie still, hold your wrath!)"
However he was deafened out by another voice, the same voice as before. It was dark and deep, full of dark deeds and secrets that have never been carried out into the light... "Cuiva nwalca Carnirasse; Nai yarvaxea rasselya; taltuva notto-carinnar! (Wake up cruel Redhorn! May your bloodstained horn fall upon enemy heads!)" Just then lightning struck the tip of Cahadras, or so it seemed, and another avalanche struck us. Legolas pulled Gandalf just before he toppled over, and all of us got buried in the snow.
To be buried in the snow is a sleepy, unsafe feeling. I almost slept m'self before I struggled upwards.
Boromir had another idea, in the stead of climbing this mountain. "We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!" Of course. Boromir, the Steward of Gondor's son, was the most tempted by the Ring then any other of us. He might steal the Ring and give it to his father, who might use it for Gondor's - or his - purposes. I did not blame Boromir completely. His city was failng.
Aragorn was of Gondor as well, as he was from Isildur's lineage, but he seemed to care more about destroying the Ring and Evil then using it. Even if Gondor crumbled. He shot back at Boromir, hiding his true intentions to disagreeing. "The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!"
It was then I had a, what I thought at the time, a brilliant idea. Gap of Roahn was too close to the Enemy's forces. Saruman had woken Cahadras. "If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it. Let us go through the mines of Moria!" The Mines of Moria my cousin Balin had built.
Gandalf, after some thought, replied: "Since our open attempt on the mountain-pass our plight has become more desperate, I fear. I see now little hope, if we do not soon vanish from sight awhile, and cover our trail. Therefore I advise that we should go neither over the mountains, nor round them, but under them. That is a road at any rate that the Enemy will least expect us to take."
"We do not know what he expeects," argued Boromir, who still stuck to his Gap of Rohan plan. "He may watch all roads, likely and unlikely. In that case enter Moria might be to walk into a trap, hardly better than knocking at the gates of the Dark Tower itself. The name of Moria is black." How dare he speak of Moria like that!
Gandalf stuck to my side. "You speak of what you do not know, when you liken Moria to the stronghold of Sauron. I alone of you have ever been in the dungeons of the Dark Lord, and only in his older and lesser presence at Dol Guldor. Those who pass the gates of Barad-Dur do not return. But I would not lead you into Moria if there was no hope of coming out again. If there are Orcs there, it may prove ill for us, that is true. But most of the Orcs of the Misty Mountains were scattered or destroyed in the Battle of the Five Armies. The Eagles report that the Orcs are gathering again from afar; but there is a hope that Moria is free.
"There is even a chance that Dwarves are there - " He spoke aloud my hopes - "and that in some deep halls of his fathers, Balin, son of Fundin may be found. However it may prove, one must tread the paths it needs chooses!"
"I will tread the paths with you, Gandalf!" I responded. "I will go and look on the halls of Durin, whatever may wait there - if you can find the doors that are shut!" The Mines were entered through a gate, which lay in a secret of the Dwarves.
"Good, Gimli!" Gandalf nodded, appearing up to hope up some. "You encourage me. We will seek the hidden doors together. We will come through. In the ruins of the Dwarves, a dwarf's head will be less easy to bewilder than the Elves of Men or Hobbits. Yet it will not be the first time I will have been to Moria. I have sought there long for Thrain, son of Thror, after he was lost. I passed through, and I came back out alive!"
Aragorn's deep voice spoke now, grimly and seriously, making the mood less hopeful. "I too, once passed the Dimrill Gate," he murmured quietly, "but though I come out again, the memory is very evil. I do not wish to enter Moria a second time."
Probably convinced by the Ranger's words, Pippin said, "And I do not wish to enter is even once!"
"Nor me," muttered Sam. I think the idea of endless halls of stone frightened him, a little.
"Of course not!" said Gandalf. "Who would? But the question is: who will follow me, if I lead you there?'
"I will," I said. I was eager to see Khazad-dum, which was spoken of with wonder among the Dwarves.
"I will," Aragorn said, heavily. Now his message was more grim. It, I think, frightened every one of us, maybe even Gandalf. "You followed my lead almost to disaster even in the snow - " So he was the one who had chose the pass to Cahadras - "and have said no word of blame. I will follow your lead now - if this last warning does not move you. It is not of the Ring, nor of the others I am thinking of right now, but of you, Gandalf. And I say to you:
"If you pass the gates of Moria, beware!"
We nine stood silent for a while, taking in Aragorn's words. Boromir broke the silence.
"I will not go, not unless the vote of the whole Company is against me. What do Legolas and the little folk say? The Ring-Bearer's voice surely must be heard?"
"I do not wish to go to Moria," Legolas murmured. Being an Elf, he probably would miss the trees or something. Elves.
Gandalf hesitated. I could see the hesitation - and fear - in his eyes. What was to be afraid of in Khazad-dum? Or something else? Finally he spoke. "Let the Ringbearer decide."
"We cannot stay here!" Boromir warned. "It will be the death of the hobbits! We have been discussing long enough." He was holding Merry and Pippin up, who were looking drowsy.
"Frodo?" Gandalf turned to the Ring-Bearer.
"We will go through the Mines."
"So be it," Gandalf replied.
I was overjoyed, of course. To see the Mines!
We came to the Walls of Moria. It stood high and relentless, going into the mists above. "The Walls of Moria!" I breathed. After looking up in awe, I could see the Fellowship looking around in slight confusion. "Dwarf gates are invisible when they are closed," I explained.
"Yes, Gimli," Gandalf said. "Their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Legolas muttered. I grumbled at him - Elves were strange creatures - but did not say nothing. I was too awestruck. Not far from now I would see Balin, and the Halls Of Moria, and much more besides.
A foot splashed, and we saw that it was Frodo. Frodo gasped, pulling out his feet from the shallow edge of the murky pool. Gandalf approached the rock wall between two twisted, gnarled trees, ignoring him.
"Now... let's see. Ithildin - It mirrors only starlight - and moonlight." AS soon as the words were out of his mouth the clouds pulled apart to reveal a full moon. I did not think it was a mere coincedence. The two trees framed now the silvery, visible gate. The silver lines outlined a door formed of two columns beneath an arch with a star in the center. I was awed... The Gate I had never thought to see.
Gandalf traced over the Dwarf runes. "It reads 'The Doors of Durin - Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.'"
Merry cocked his head. "What do you suppose that means?"
"Oh, it's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open."
Gandalf then tried out bunches of passwords in every tongue known to him, but it was ultimately Frodo who solved the puzzle. "Speak friend. Gandalf, what is the Elvish word for friend?"
Gandalf looked wearily at him. "'Mellon.'"
The doors opened. So much for long passwords...
The mines turned out to be a — as Boromir so frankly suggested — "a grave." Fallen dwarven guards lay here and there. What had happened? I thought bewilderedly. Legolas knew. "Goblins," he muttered, loading his bow. Aragorn and Boromir unsheathed their swords. It turned out they needed it, as Frodo was attacked by a gigantic water beast — probably being used by the hands of the Enemy. There was no going back, either, as the water-beast sealed the gates as Legolas shot it, bellowing in pain and anger.
The mines… they were unlike anything I have ever seen. Wondrous, magnificent, and … Deserted. I ran to one of the rooms that my father had talked about often. Inside there were slain guards and in the middle of the room, lighted, a white tomb.
"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria" was what was inscribed on there.
So Balin was dead. All my hopes had now fled.
Gandalf started reading out from Balin's diary, and I listened intently. "Drums in the deep.." So they had been attacked by Orcs and something worse. They had awoken a new evil…
The new evil turned out to be a Barlog.
My ancestors… They had dug too far and too deep…
The Barlog and Gandalf battled. The eight of us got through, but Gandalf did not. He fell into the shadows even as he slew the Barlog.
I couldn't help feeling guilty. I had offered the suggestion to the Mines. Gandalf, as he accepted my offer, had died. Was I at fault? I had not known about any Barlogs or whatnot at the time. I knew it would be dangerous. I had not listened to my heart, only my desires. Foolish hopes.
What has awakened in the Mines, once so magnificent and the home of light? Only Evil has, and Evil has taken our light.