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Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Battle on the Doorstep

"Oh, shit," whispered Bróin. "They've all come!"

Dreading what he would see, Frodo whirled around to stare across the lake. There were ponies and horses emerging from the trees, a little way south from where the fellowship had emerged, and at their head was Bilbo.

The older hobbit looked stricken. His face was lined and drawn, but there was a fury in his eyes that Frodo could see from this distance, and it knotted his stomach.

I'm sorry, Bilbo. I'm so sorry. This is for the best.

Swallowing his shame, Frodo turned back to the door. "Mellon!"

The doors began to creak open, and Kíli's voice roared across the pool. "Naidribi! Innikî, zû!"

Stop! Return, now!

Vaguely, Frodo was aware of those around him shifting uncomfortably, and he could not fight the urge to look over his shoulder at Kíli. He winced.

He had done it now.

The prince looked ready to kill. Frodo only seen such fury on Kíli's face once before – when the Shire was attacked, and Frodo admitted what had really happened to his parents. The rage had scared him then. Now, it saddened him. Frodo's eyes flickered to Fíli. His mouth was pressed into a thin, straight line, and he was staring hard at Frodo.

Frodo took a breath to steady himself, and nodded slightly. Even if there was no place for him in his family anymore, it would be worth it. As long as they lived, it was worth it. Tears burnt behind his eyes, but he blinked, and shook them away.

Looked back at the door. Stepped –

"Don't take another step, Frodo Baggins!" Kíli roared, and urged Luno into the water.

"Frodo," murmured Aragorn, and Frodo looked at the man. His eyes were fixed on their pursuers, and Frodo followed his gaze.

"You have been very brave," a loud, familiar voice called, and Gandalf dismounted, walking towards the very edge of the pool. "But it is time now, to hand over your task."

Frodo took a deep breath, and turned to his fellowship. "Let's go."

Aragorn hesitated, his eyes on Gandalf. "I…" Legolas, too looked torn, and Boromir was slowly backing away from the door.

But Gimli and the original conspiracy stared at him, and nodded their grief stricken faces. Their determination reigned.

This was the right thing to do.

Frodo took a step into the door.

And then the water exploded.

Screams, from every direction, terrified wolf howls, water spraying, splashing, the strangest cry Frodo had ever heard. Frodo spun around on the spot, his mouth dropping open at the sight before him. Terror seized him, but even as he backed away, dwarven training led his fingers to his sword hilt.

He had no other word for it.

There was a monster in the water.

It rose up, thrusting serpent-like limbs towards Kíli and the others, and as a bulbous head breached the water a tentacle wrapped around Luno, ripping him into the air. The wolf let out a howl of terror and pain, and Kíli roared, and hacking at the creature, but another tentacle smashed across his chest, and sent him crashing to the ground bellow.

"Kíli!" screamed Frodo, and he was not the only one. "Luno!"

As if drawn by the sound of his voice, the creature turned, creating a whirlpool around it. The next thing Frodo knew, something cold, slippery and deathly strong had wrapped twice around his chest. Within the span of a heartbeat he was been dragged backwards, through the air, unable to do anything but scream.

"No! Frodo!"

Writhing frantically, Frodo tried to use his sword, but his arms were bound to his sides and he could do nothing with only his wrists. He was helpless, and he knew it. Any of the air left in his lungs was chased away by terror as he looked down, and saw a face like that of some monstrous spider, or one of the cave-fish Nori would scare them with as children. A mouth the size of a hobbit's front door was wrenching open, full of thousands of needle-sharp teeth, and he was being lowered towards it –

One arrow, two, three, struck the tentacle that held him, and the monster gave a moan that Frodo could feel, and then he was falling, plummeting towards the mouth, towards the black water –

And then an arm was around his chest, snatching him clean from the air. As though it was the easiest thing in the world, Legolas leapt from tentacle to tentacle, with Frodo hanging over his arm like a kitten.

Stunned, Frodo watched the water fly beneath him, churned and frothy from the movements of the monster. His old fear of drowning was creeping up his throat, but he had no time for that now. Ducking a snake-like limb, Legolas sprang from another tentacle and landed gracefully on the beach. In the same moment he released Frodo, the elf turned and went for the creature with two long knives, drawing out its odd, echoing roar. As if in answer, a harsh, shrill horn sounded in the woods to the south.

The orcs – the orcs had caught them.

"No," he groaned, trying to catch his breath as Sam seized his arm. "No, please…"

But his prayers were unanswered, and dozens of the foul creatures spilled out from the trees on the southern side of the pool, swarming towards his family with swords and bows and torches. Some lingered in the trees, and began to take aim at Frodo's group.

Even as Frodo grappled for a bow, Ehren let out a battle cry to challenge the monster's, charging towards the oncoming orcs with Nori, Ori, Bifur and Bofur behind him. All the wolves raced back across the creek, heading straight for the wargs with bared teeth and furious growls, but Frodo could not see if Luno was on his feet to join them. He kept looking, even as he threw on his pack in case he had to run, and joined the ranks that the other hobbits had created.

Aragorn, Boromir, and Merry were shooting at the orcs, so Frodo set his attention on the monster in the water. It seemed to have been distracted by the orcs, and though the last thing he wanted to do was draw its attention, Frodo joined Pippin in pelting it with rocks. The throwing knives of Nelly and Bróin were somewhat more effective, but they only seemed to take out the tentacles. It did not seem like the monster was weakening at all – in fact it simply seemed to grow angrier.

"How can anything have so many legs?" bellowed Bróin, ducking as one of his knives was thrown back at him by the beast.

For a moment, Frodo thought it would surge towards them, but on the opposite bank, Glorfindel, Erestor and Vinca were laying into it with arrows of their own, and tearing away its attention.

"Run!" Kíli roared, though Frodo could not see him anywhere. "Run, get into the mines!"

The monster was turning again, but he could not tell in which direction, and two very familiar battle cries pulled Frodo's gaze to the north side, and the creek. Gandalf was crossing it quickly, with Fíli and Kíli on his heels. The princes looked furious, and were aiming right for the creature in the water. Behind them ran Soren, Bragi and Bofin, and then Bilbo and Dís, but as soon as Frodo's aunt and uncle reached the water they turned, holding off the orcs that were squirming their way towards the crossing.

With just the two of them there, they looked so alone, and Frodo watched in horror as Dís deflected a knife that missed her stomach by an inch.

No, no –

A cry of pain turned Frodo's head, and he saw Sam stagger backwards, clutching at his neck as an arrow shattered onto the rock behind him.

"Sam!" Frodo dove forward, seizing Sam's arm.

"I'm alright," Sam said, adjusting his grip on the sword. "We need cover-"

Three tentacles came their way, and together the young hobbits set to work, dodging and slicing as best they could. The ends of three, bloodied tentacles fell to the ground either side of them, like the corpses of snakes.

"Get into the mines!" roared Gandalf. The wizard was close now, only feet away, and his staff was aimed at the beast.

"Not now," Nelly snarled, landing an axe into the back of the monster in the water. Her hand flew to her belt and then paused. She drew her sword – so her throwing blades were spent. "We won't leave you in a fight –"

Frodo swung at another tentacle aiming his way, severing the end, but then something on the other side of the lake caught his eye.

Orc archers, taking aim.

At the princes.

"Fíli!" he screamed, even as the arrows flew. "Get down!"

Soren knocked Fíli down as Kíli and Bragi ducked, and several arrows collided with the mountain. For a heart stopping moment, Frodo thought that there should have been more arrows, that Fíli had been hit after all, but then the prince leapt to his feet, and sent a grim smile at Frodo.

"Thanks!" He paused to throw an axe at an orc on the other side of the lake. "Now go!"

"Not now!" cried Frodo, but his voice sounded so small.

"We'll hold them off, get into the mountain," Kíli called in reply, shooting at the foes across the pool. "Not the plan we had in mind, but it will do, if Gandalf's with you. Go."

"No, we can't!" Frodo shook his head frantically. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bofin trying to force Bróin into the mines.

"Get off me Bofin, I've got to help!"

"Get inside, Bróin, just listen to me for once in your life!"

"Frodo!" Kíli yelled, his eyes flickering to the hobbit even as he fired arrow after arrow at the orcs. Beneath the anger, Frodo could see fear in Kíli's eyes. "Listen to me, get into the mountain! We'll meet you on the other side, I promise. Go, now!"

Feeling as though he was tearing his own heart from his chest, Frodo turned and ran into the mine. It was dark inside, but the cavern amplified the screams and shouts outside, and Frodo clutched at the chain around his neck.

This felt far more like he was betraying his family.

"This way!" Gandalf charged in behind him, and Gimli, Boromir Aragorn and Legolas all obeyed. Merry, Pippin and Sam were at their heels, and after a moment, Nelly ran inside.

Bróin, on the other hand, was still fighting his shorter and squatter older brother. Even amongst the chaos, Frodo was amazed that Bofin had pushed Bróin so far in.

"For the love of Mahal!" the older dwarf groaned, through gritted teeth. "Bróin, you-"

Too late, Frodo saw the monster's hideous face surge towards them. All he could do to warn the others was yell, but that was not enough as the beast collided with the mountain, and one of its tentacles wrapped around the first soul in reach.

"Bofin!" Bróin cried, suddenly scrambling to grab his brother as the older boy was torn away. "Bofin!"

Gandalf raised his staff, but before any spell could be cast, the stone beneath the creature cracked, and then rumbled. Nelly and Gimli darted forward to grab Bróin, but he fought them with a cry like a wounded animal, and it was only when Boromir and Aragorn leapt in to help that they managed to drag him backwards.

Away from the rock that was cracking.

And Frodo knew exactly what was about to happen.

"Run!" Gandalf ordered, and somehow Frodo obeyed, turning to run blindly into a dark that became absolute with a tremendous crash.

The sound of a cave in.

"Let go of me! Let go of me! Bofin!" Bróin's voice was higher than usual, and Frodo could hear him choking. "Bofin!"

There was no scream of reply. Already, the sounds of outside were muffled, frighteningly so. Frodo could see nothing, he could hear nothing except heavy breathing and sobs and Bróin –

"Gandalf," he choked, searching blindly for the wizard in the dark. "Gandalf, we must go back, we must help them!"

A dim, white light appeared at the end of the wizard's staff, illuminating an old, dusty entrance hall. And the haggard faces of Frodo's companions.

"We cannot go back," said Gandalf gravely, looking first at Frodo, then at the door. Frodo turned, letting out a small whimper.

There was no door, not anymore. Only a pile of rubble, a solid wall of broken stone, that had to be several feet thick, at best. He knew in that moment that there would be no going back. Not that way. They were trapped.

But the others still had the monster to face, and the orcs –

"You cannot have thought your decision would be without consequence?"

I did not think this would be the consequence! Frodo wanted to scream. But he could hardly breathe, let alone gather the air to scream.

"You are fools." Gandalf's voice boomed in the cavernous space, anger and sorrow both evident in his tone. "Brave, stupid, fools."

The breath of quiet that followed was broken by a very odd noise – a noise Frodo had never heard before. He shivered, sweaty fingers shifting on his sword hilt, and turned in its direction. Bróin was standing a few feet away. Well, standing was not the right word. He was hanging, limp, in the arms of Nelly and Gimli.

As Frodo watched, he shrugged them off, and stumbled forward to the stone wall, crashing down to his knees before a small rock. Nelly followed on tiptoes, her eyes flooding as Bróin reached out to the rock with trembling fingers.

Then Frodo heard the noise again. It was a garbled blend of a whimper and a sob and a groan, a helpless sound of regret and of grief, grief and regret so deep it could not have come from Bróin, not Bróin –

And then Bróin keened, his whole body curling around that stone that was not a stone, and Frodo's heart stumbled painfully. He did not know what happened, but anything that could make Bróin cry, make him cry aloud…

"Bro?" Nelly whispered, placing a shaking hand on his shoulders. Then she gazed into his lap, and moaned, pushing her hand against her mouth.

Frodo was already running toward them when Nelly's knees buckled, and for once Bróin did not catch her. Instead, he just keened as she wrapped her arms around him, and hid her face in his hair.

"What is it?" Frodo asked, but his voice was so tight it did not even sound like his own. "What happened? Bróin?"

Bróin twisted around and seized Nelly tightly, burying his face in her shoulder and sobbing like a child. Something tumbled from his lap and onto the floor, and he cringed and clutched her tighter.

Frodo barely heard his own scream as he watched Bofin's boot rock gently on the ground. The boot was bleeding. Leaking a dark stream of blood onto the floor. It was not empty.

Frodo's lungs refused to take in any more air. The world began to spin, and he stumbled down beside Nelly and Bróin. Sank to his knees.

"I'm so sorry," he tried to say, but his voice was less than a whisper. "I'm sorry Bróin, I'm so sorry."

"What's going –" Pippin's question was interrupted by his own cry as he saw exactly what was going on, and Frodo looked up in time to see the youngest of the hobbits turn as white as snow. "No, no, no –"

He stumbled backwards, right into Merry, who folded his arms around Pippin immediately. Pippin hid his face in Merry's shoulder, and Merry swallowed, unable to tear his eyes away from the boot.

The foot.

Bofin's foot.

Sam groaned, and then yelled in anger, and threw his sword to the floor. The sound of metal on stone was loud as an earthquake in the darkness, but no louder than Gimli's cry of horror. But the older dwarf gained control over himself in a moment, and hurried to Bróin's side. Gimli's hands were shaking, but he had a forced calm about him.

"Look at me," he said gruffly, pulling Bróin by his short beard to force the younger dwarf to look at him. Then he cupped his hands on either side of Bróin's cheeks. "Look at me, lad. We don't know what happened, no, look at me, Bofin might live. You remember, you remember the story of the miner in the Blue Mountains, mmh? They found his arm, and days later found him alive and, well, not well but he survived, didn't he? Don't you crumble on us now, lad. There are good fighters out there, and half decent healers."

Frodo wished that he could share Gimli's hope. As it was, all he could do was try to stop from weeping himself.

Legolas walked to the wall of rubble, carefully picking a way through loose stones to press his ear against the rock. He closed his eyes, and for a long moment, he was silent. When he spoke, his voice was gentler than Frodo had ever heard it. "Your brother is alive. I can hear his cries. He lies closer to the others than to us – his face is free to the air. He lives, my friend."

Frodo hung his head, and began to pray. Thank you, thank you, thank you – please keep him that way, please let him be alright, please…

"For how long?" Bróin asked, his voice trembling with hope, and with bitterness. "For how long, if he's lo- if he's – how long?"

The elf turned his face away. "That, I cannot say."

Frodo reached out for Sitka, only to remember that none of the wolves had entered with them. They had lost their fiercest companions, half their baggage, almost all their medical supplies…

Medical supplies.

Sam.

Frodo scrambled to his feet. "Sam – are you alright, are you hurt?"

For a moment, Sam just blinked at him, dazed. Then he raised his hand towards his neck, as if moving through a dream, and sighed. "I'm fine. Just a scratch. I was, I was lucky."

Frodo tugged Sam's hand away, sighing himself when he saw that it was true. It was just a scratch. Sam was lucky.

"Frodo…" Sam's lip shook slight, and he lowered his voice. "D'you, d'you think the others will be alright?"

"I… I don't know," Frodo whispered, closing his eyes.

As he looked at Frodo, Gimli wanted to close his eyes himself. He wanted to roar at the fear and the pain and the grief – to curse their fate and to curse that monster, whatever it was – but that was not what he was needed for.

His cousins, his little dwobbits, they needed him now, more than ever. They needed someone there, someone calm and hopeful and strong, and even if he felt none of those things in his heart, he would be them all on the outside. He would give calm and hope and strength to his kin.

Above all, Gimli was worried that they had lost Bróin. The lad was still so young, and finding a brother's severed foot could unhinge a grown dwarf, especially after such a fight. Gimli would not be surprised if Bróin broke down entirely, if he could not gather his wits or his strength for a while, but they could not afford that. If Bróin broke, he was twice as vulnerable. What he needed was time, time to understand and process what had happened, time to control his grief and raise his hope, but they did not have the time to give him.

Several agonisingly long minutes passed, and Bróin did not move – he just clung to Nelly with his eyes clouded and unblinking. But then, with no sign of a trigger, Bombur's son took a deep breath, and wiped his tears on his sleeve in a motion that looked almost like a punch. He stood up so fast that the hobbits jumped, and then he turned with blazing eyes to Gandalf.

"What," he growled, "did you just say?"

Gimli frowned. What had Gandalf said? He had called them fools, but –

"You think we didn't think about the consequences?" Bróin's voice rose to a shout before the wizard could reply. "Of course we did, the damned consequences are why we were here in the first place! We knew, we knew that any one of us, or anyone else we loved could be hurt, or killed, we're not sheltered little lordlings playing war in Ada's office!"

Gandalf's eyes were widening, but his face was impassive as the stone, and that worried Gimli. He stood himself, putting a hand on Bróin's shoulder. "This isn't the time-"

Bróin let out a fierce laugh, and threw off Gimli's hand. "The time? No, it isn't, is it? Because we were supposed to be moving by now, we had a plan. But even though we had a plan, and even though we knew that things could go wrong we did not think this would be a consequence because we did not think that you would be stupid enough to follow us the way you did!" Bróin's voice grew from a shout to a roar, and he thrust his pointed fist towards Gandalf. "What were you thinking? Bringing a group of, what, twenty? How, how would that be helpful for anyone other than the enemy? We knew we'd be followed, but we thought you'd be smart enough to split up, sneak about, keep secret like you swore was 'of vital importance!' Yet you did not. You thought that it would be better to waltz up with a group double the size of ours and shout 'hello, here we are, come and get us!' If you weren't here the orcs would never have caught us, and none of this-" he gestured furiously to the fallen stone, "-would have happened! If you had just stopped and thought about it, we'd be well on our way now. But no. We were not the ones who did not consider the consequences."

When the echo of his word shout died, and the others stood like stone in the silence, Bróin shifted his pack on his shoulders, checked the straps of his sword, and then strode right past Gandalf. The wizard did not move, and the young dwarf did not pause as he made his way up the stairs towards the deeper darkness.

After a moment and without a word, Nelly lifted her own bag from the floor behind her, and nimbly scrambled after him. She sent a half-fearful, half-furious glance at Gandalf on the way past, and finally the wizard turned.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Bróin spoke coldly over his shoulder. "To fulfil the quest." He looked deliberately away from Gandalf, meeting the eye of every other member of the fellowship. "We are not turning back now. And thanks to the 'great' choices of the wise, we have no time to rest tonight."

Before the younger dwarf had even finished speaking, Gimli began to climb the stairs. It was not to walk away from Gandalf as such, nor to get moving for moving's sake. Though he did think Bróin was right, what the boy needed was his family's support, and their validation, and Gimli would show it the best way he could. It was the least he could do for a frightened young dwarf who had just found his brother's severed foot.

The hobbits seemed more hesitant to anger the wizard, but as Gimli walked, they too headed for the stairs. As he did a quick headcount, Gimli saw Pippin tug Merry's hand to tear his cousin's gaze from Bofin's foot.

Poor, poor Bofin, thought Gimli, his stomach churning. But he forced his mind away. Bofur would look after his nephew, and Bofin would be alright. He had to be.

"So, you simply challenge me and then leave? That does not seem very noble, Master Dwarf," said Gandalf, his voice as icy as Bróin's.

The hobbits stopped in their tracks, even Nelly, and looked fearfully between Gandalf and Bróin. Gimli, too, held his breath. As much as he agreed with Bróin, he could understand some of Gandalf's logic, and more importantly he did not want to anger the wizard. Gandalf had not wanted this.

No one had wanted this.

Bróin turned around fully, and Gimli was thrown by the strength of his voice. "It was not a challenge, Master Wizard. It was a condemnation."

Gimli heard Frodo groan, and his own heart began to pick up speed again.

Face still unreadable, Gandalf began to make his way up the stairs. The men and Legolas stood frozen below, gazing up in dismay as some force compelled Gimli and the hobbits to back away. Only Bróin remained, standing like the statue of a warrior at the very top of the stairway. As the wizard drew nearer, Bróin's hands began to tremble, and when he crossed his arms his lip quaked instead. His eyes hurt to look at – they were so full of anger and agony, and Gimli had to look away.

But he looked quickly back when Gandalf stood before Bróin, and spoke, in a soft, jarringly gentle voice. "I am sorry if my words upset you, son of Bombur. Though our group may seem large, we did travel in secret, under the cover of darkness, until we found that we were within a day's march from you. Perhaps it was ill-advised, and perhaps we ought not to have shouted for you to halt. But, at the time, we thought it best. I thought it best. It seems that both our companies have taken ill-paths with good intentions."

Bróin's chin remained high, but he spoke, rather than shouted, his reply. "The only 'path' I regret was leaving like a thief in the night, but that could not be helped. We did what we had to do, and I stand by that."

"Even now?" Gandalf raised an eyebrow. "Now that there is battle again outside Moria's gates, and your own brother has been maimed in the fray?"

"Even now," Bróin agreed, his voice tight, but ringing true. "We did what we had to do, and will do it again now."

"Then why did you not run when you were instructed to, if you will set aside your feelings for this quest?" Gandalf said, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly.

"Hubris," Bróin spat, even as his shoulders slumped forward slightly – his guilty tell. Gimli's own heart sank slightly as he bowed his head. Hubris had indeed been what kept his axe outside until the last. "We thought we could hold our own. Help our kin. But we couldn't. The mistake will not be made again."

"I did not see hubris in Frodo's eyes," pointed out Gandalf.

Before Frodo could open his mouth, Bróin spoke for him. "Beginner's balk."

"What?" puzzled Boromir.

"The hesitation and bewilderment that fighters experience during their first real altercation," recited Merry glumly. "Made worse by the fear for comrades. Everyone insists that it'd never happen to them." He paused, and stared at his feet. "Everyone's wrong."

"We will do this," said Bróin, drawing the wizard's eyes back to him. "We'll do what we have to do."

"Then let me help you do it," replied Gandalf softly.

Confusion flickered across the warring emotions on Bróin's face. "What?"

"We cannot go back," Gandalf gestured to the fallen rocks. "So we must go on. I have been through Moria before, and I can guide you. I will not try to stop you, nor bear you back. I will help you onwards, until we reach the woods of Lothlórien. If I am not convinced by then of your ability to complete the quest, we can take council with the lady, and seek sanctuary in her halls until something may be done. Does that seem reasonable to you?"

Bróin hesitated for a long moment, and then finally tore his gaze from Gandalf to look to the others. Frodo nodded, and Bróin took a deep breath. "Alright. Thank you."

Gandalf inclined his head, and then crouched down, putting a hand on Bróin's shoulder and speaking so quietly Gimli almost missed the words. "Your bravery is admirable, my lad. You are doing well. But hold on to it, and hold on tight. You will need your courage to hold." Then the wizard stood up, and strode to the front of the group. "Let us go," he said. "And while we are at it, you can spell out your logic for me, if you have indeed 'thought this through'. Though take care not to speak of your final goal. We do not know who or what may be dwelling in this darkness."

There we go, I hope you enjoyed that edited (hopefully clearer) chapter. Please do leave a review if you can, I really appreciate the support. Until Friday, take care, and thanks for reading!