Yo! I think this is the best I have ever managed to adhere to an update schedule. I hope that you guys enjoy this chapter, and forgive any typos caused by the usual nonsense that it my ability to type.

Chapter Thirty-Five: The Falling

Pippin wished that he could say he had never been so miserable in his life. Unfortunately, when the thought passed his mind, he was tossed over the shoulder of his memory and dragged back into a time long passed. To dark woods and dark dwarves, and to orcs, and blood and screaming.

He still loathed Mirkwood more than he hated Moria, but it was growing close.

At least in Mirkwood, nothing had been his fault. He had not made anything worse. Even when his little fingers had dug a knife into Fíli's back, it had not been Pippin's fault. But here, he had only made things worse.

He sat alone at watch, as the sunlight seeped through the ancient windows and made the shadows grow.

Why, why, why had he dropped the damned stone? Why could he never just ignore the curiosity that gripped him so tightly? Why could he not be smart like Merry or wise like Gandalf – or at least sensible like Frodo! Why, why, why?

He knew the answer

Because he was a fool.

A stupid, useless, little fool caught up in an adventure that was far too big for him. Nelly was right. He should never have come in the first place. What use was he? What good had he done? What good could he do?

Well, I can hold a sword, and hold my own against an orc or two, he supposed, but it did not comfort him. The others could claim the same, and could probably fell twice the number of foes as he. Why did he think it would be any use to come?

Because I couldn't be left behind, he thought miserably. Because my heart's bigger than my head and it's landed me flat on my back in a ditch. Just like Mama always said it would.

He winced at the thought of his mother – he doubted she would take any of this well when she found out. She would be angry, and disappointed, and above all afraid, and Pippin had never wanted that.

But what did you expect? a scornful voice thought in his mind. Nothing. Because you didn't think. Why do you never think, Pippin?

Pippin sighed, tucking his knees up under his chin. He did not know. All he knew was that it was cold, and that he was far from home, and that he felt utterly alone. Nelly had woken him for his watch, but she had not spoken. Not even when he said, "Sleep well."

Now the others were all asleep. Even Gandalf, though the wizard's eyes were open, and it was always hard to tell. The slow, deep breaths of his companions were the only sounds he could here, and they seemed to sing to him, drawing him back down towards sleep.

No.

He bit down on his tongue until his eyes watered, staring intently around him. He could not sleep on watch. Not now, of all times. He could not miss a thing, not even one little spider scuttling across the floor.

Not that there were any spiders. The hall was painfully, eerily, empty.

Gimli began to snore softly, and Pippin's eyelids grew very heavy. He rocked on the spot, batting sleepiness away as much as he could. He would not fall asleep.

Won't, won't, won't…

The word ran through his head so many times that it became a mantra, a drum beat low and deep in his heart. Won't, won't, won't, he thought, as the beat thudded, doom, doom, doom. His toes tapped along in time, and a little of his weariness ebbed away.

Won't, won't, won't –

Doom, doom, doom –

Wait.

Pippin froze, his toes less than an inch from the floor, and the mantra ceased.

And the drum continued.

Doom, doom, doom.

He could hear it, he could hear it – and a thrill of horror ran through him. Someone, somewhere, was banging on a drum.

And getting closer.

Pippin's mouth felt very dry, and his heartbeat was growing faster as he scrambled to his feet, rubbing his eyes and peering into the darkness. "Wake up!" he cried. Wake up!"

The fellowship jerked awake with gasps and shouts, and Pippin saw a pillar further down the hall appear to sway in gloom.

"What is it?" barked Boromir, his hand tightening around his sword.

"The, the drums," Pippin stammered, looking from Boromir to Gandalf, who went very pale. Then Pippin looked back to the pillar, and let out a cry of horror.

Crawling down the pillar towards them, streaming from the ceiling were hundreds, thousands of –

"Goblins!" cried Legolas from behind him, and Pippin turned to see that they were everywhere coming from everywhere.

How could there be so many?

"Run!" Gandalf ordered, thrusting Pippin's pack at him, and pointing to the far end of the hall with his staff.

Pippin did not need to be told twice. He darted forwards, fixing his eyes on the small doorway at the far end of the hall. If they could just get there, just get there… The others were with him, beside and around him, but there were more goblins before them, slithering down the pillars like spiders, and they would reach the ground before Pippin could get to the door. They would be surrounded.

If it came to a fight, they were doomed.

Choking on air, Pippin froze, looking over his shoulder so quickly that his neck burnt.

No –

"Pippin!" Merry yelled, seizing his collar and dragging him onwards.

Pippin ran, tried not to look back, but he could hardly breathe.

His sword.

He had left behind his sword. For a moment, he had seen it glinting in the dull light, but in the span of a heartbeat it had disappeared beneath goblin feet, and Pippin could do nothing but run. Run to a door that was getting closer, to a door that was disappearing behind a wall of goblin bodies.

And then the wall was complete, and the door was gone.

Legolas skidded to a halt, and the others behind him, and there was nowhere left to run.

They were surrounded, and Pippin had no sword. He tried to slow his breathing, to remember what to do next, but all he could do was to wind his fingers into Merry's cloak, to stare out at death with eyes so wide that they hurt. He should not have come, he should never have thought himself capable of this. All he had done was make things worse, and now they were surrounded, and he was helpless.

Fíli was going to be so disappointed.

No one else would be surprised.

Merry flung his arm out in front of Pippin, pushing him back into the circle they were forming, and Pippin stifled a sob. Merry was trying to protect him, but Pippin was going to die. They were surrounded, a hundred to one, and he knew that Gandalf could not save all of them. Pippin was the least useful of them all. He would, he should, be the one left for dead.

Pippin did not want to die.

"Merry," he whispered, but he did not know what he wanted to say, or hear. "Merry…"

His voice was taken from him, swallowed by the jeers and the shrieks of the goblins. And of course they we jeering. The orcs were going to win, of course they would win, and Gandalf could not save them all. Pippin was going to die.

He was so small, and he felt so small. Too small too help, too small to run, too hurt the baddie instead of his Fíli. And the orcs were going to eat him, they said they were going to eat him, and the bad dwarf had laughed, and said that they could –

Was that Pippin's fate all along, to be torn apart and eaten by orcs or goblins? Had it simply been delayed, and not averted? He struggled against his fear, but he could feel himself losing, and he squeezed his eyes shut and cringed away, back towards the middle of the group. Dwarven training was screaming at him to find something, anything, to grab a weapon and fight for his life, and he could hear Gimli and Bróin growling, hear the others readying themselves, but he could hardly breathe.

Silence.

It fell as swift and sharp as an axe blow, and Pippin's eyes were shocked open. The goblins were still there, they were still surrounded, but the jeers and shrieks were gone. Instead, their attackers were twitching, wide eyed, until one gave a loud squawk, and noise exploded around them once more.

Shrieking and swarming like bats, they fled, scuttling back up the pillars from which they had come. This could not be good. Pippin's fingers grew tighter around Merry's cloak, and his own heartbeat was as loud as a drum in his ears.

"What is that?" whispered Nelly, and Pippin turned to look.

Fear stole the air from his lungs. The doorway they had entered the night before was glowing, glowing red as though a ravenous fire was raging behind it, drawing nearer. But in the midst of the glow was darkness, an unnatural, solid darkness, and Pippin stumbled backwards.

"Ai!" wailed Legolas, his voice ringing with a despair that stole Pippin's breath. "A balrog! A balrog has come!"

"Run!" Gandalf barked, grabbing Pippin's shoulder and shoving him forward, "All of you, run!"

Pippin had never run so fast in his life. His bag bounced against his back and his arms pumped at his sides as he raced for the other door – the door onwards, the door that was getting closer, closer, closer –

And he was at the head, ahead of the group – which meant that he had overtaken his sister.

The realisation tripped his heart, and Pippin glanced over his shoulder, but Nelly was right behind him. She did not look scared. Her mouth was pressed into a straight line, her eyebrows were furrowed, and determination burnt in her eyes.

Behind her, far behind, flames were spilling from the door and into the hall, and a roar like that of a dragon shook the ground beneath them. It was a sound deep and grinding and growling, a sound that pierced your ears and churned your stomach, and shot an arrow of terror deep into your chest. A sound louder than any firework, more alien than the beast in the water, more chilling than the call of a warg –

It was a sound that had Pippin looking back forwards towards escape, and a sound that released a speed the young hobbit had not known that he possessed. It spurred him on, and he flew through the doorway and saw the path just drop –

He flung out his arms in a desperate attempt to stop, but Nelly crashed into him with a curse, and he was thrown forwards.

Over the edge.

A scream tore from him, and fingernails scratched deep at the skin on the back of his neck, and then two hands tightened around his collar and Pippin jerked to a stop.

Began to hang.

He did not know if he was choking on fear or his own coat collar as he gasped for breath that would not come, and he glanced down, into an abyss so dark that he forgot the sight of the sun. Above him, he could hear cries and yells and footsteps, and the hands that were holding him shook.

His coat was slipping.

"Please!" he gasped, trying to crane his neck to look up, but it loosened his collar and he began to fall out of his coat –

He screamed, and the hands on the coat wrenched upwards, dragging him back up onto the path. Arms wrapped around him, held him close, and Pippin clutched at them, trying to draw breath in whatever ragged gasps he could muster.

"Are you alright?" Frodo begged, holding Pippin even tighter. "Pippin?"

Pippin blinked at Frodo, unable to comprehend how his cousin had caught him, or what had just happened, or –

A pair of much larger, stronger arms hoisted him up off of the floor, and the next thing Pippin knew he was sat on Boromir's hip like a child.

"There is no time, we must run!" the man insisted, dragging Frodo onto his feet and pushing him onwards. "Gandalf-"

"Go on!" ordered the wizard, and with a start Pippin realised that the wizard was still at the door, while the rest of the fellowship had spilled out along the path. "I'll be right with you! Don't fall, now!"

Good advice, sound advice, but it soon grew hard to follow. The thin, stone walkways were cracked and crumbling in many places, and Pippin's heart lurched over every crack. Yet Boromir did not hesitate – he leapt over each one with ease, and barely let them slow him down.

Pippin wondered if he should demand to be put down, to pull his own weight, but he was too afraid. Instead, he stared over Boromir's shoulder and watched Gandalf catch up with them, leaning on his staff and breathing heavily. The moment that the wizard reached Gimli at the back, there was a far away roar and an almighty crash, and the mountain began to shake.

"What was that?" yelped Bróin, as Pippin cried out in dismay, but Gandalf herded them onwards.

"Don't stop!" he bellowed. "It's that way, to the left, Nelly, the left! I have sealed the door, but the enemy are breaking through! Quickly!"

There was another loud boom, and the mountain seemed to wrench out of place. Cracks and groans of crumbling stone were the only warning they got before rocks began to fall from above, parts of old walkways and tunnels and ceilings, rocks as big as trolls, and Pippin tightened his grip on Boromir's cloak.

Why did we come this way? Why, why, why…

A chunk of rock the size of a wolf crashed down onto their path barely a foot in front of Gandalf, striking straight through the stone. Without hesitation, Gandalf and Legolas jumped across, followed swiftly by Bróin and Nelly.

"Jump!" Gandalf demanded when the others hesitated, ushering Bróin and Nelly on.

Gimli leant backwards and then made the jump, but to Pippin's horror, his feet missed, and he began to fall back. Quick as death, Legolas lunged forward and grabbed Gimli's beard.

The dwarf gave a bellow of protest, but then he was safe, and Pippin let out a sigh of relief.

For half a moment.

"Hold on!" Boromir yelled, and Pippin's heart seized.

The man launched them both into the air, and Pippin cried out, but as quickly as they leapt, they landed, and then Boromir put Pippin down on his own two feet. Gandalf grabbed his shoulder and pushed him onwards, but Pippin hesitated, his eyes on the others.

"Merry!" cried Boromir, holding out his arms. "I will catch you!"

Pippin's heart beat so fast that it stoppered his throat as Merry screwed up his eyes, leant back, and then took a running leap across the chasm –

And the rock fell away beneath his feet –

And he was snatched from the air by Boromir, and put down at Pippin's side. Immediately, Merry grabbed Pippin's hand, and Pippin could have sobbed.

Scarce a moment after Merry had landed, Aragorn grabbed Sam as if he was a child, and tossed him across the chasm. Again, Boromir caught the hobbit, and placed him safe on the ground, and then Frodo had been flung across, and Pippin and Merry backed away further to give them more room.

And then the stone beneath Aragorn's feet began to tilt. Pippin cried out, but there was no fear in the stumbling ranger's eyes. Instead, he set his jaw, took a running leap, and was grabbed by Boromir as the old section fell away.

Then they were running again. Pippin's lungs were protesting, and his hope was failing, but then his eyes fell on a small bridge, not twenty feet away.

"The bridge of Khazad-dum!" called Gandalf, his voice rasping with the effort. "The way out lies just beyond!"

With a spur of courage, Pippin out on speed. They might make it yet…

A hideous roar and flare of heat thundered from behind and chased away his courage, but as he turned to look Merry cried out in a strangled voice, "Don't look back, Pippin!"

Curiosity sufficiently dampened, Pippin kept his eyes straight ahead, and focused on running, and not falling. Nelly and Bróin were first on the bridge, but they stood aside for Gandalf.

"I'll take the rear," he insisted gruffly, pushing the pair onto the bridge, and ushering the rest of the fellowship on after them. "Swords are no use here, this is a foe beyond any of you. Go, quickly!"

The moment his foot touched the bridge, a thrill of terror shuddered through Pippin. It was wide enough only for single file, and there were no rails or curbs – nothing to stop him falling to his death if he stumbled. Every ounce of concentration that he could muster was spent on his feet, his legs. Nimble steps, focused steps, steps that would not falter or fall.

He could feel heat growing behind him, but it did not look back. Looking back could throw him off, make him stumble, he had to concentrate.

When his palms finally hit the wall of the mountain he could have sobbed with relief, and he stumbled after Merry, Nelly and Bróin, towards the upward passage, towards daylight –

"Gandalf!"

Pippin turned at Frodo's scream, and his own mouth fell open.

Gandalf stood alone on the bridge, holding his staff and his sword. And facing him was a monster more terrible than any Pippin had ever dreamt of. Now he understood why Legolas had been so afraid. Now, he knew what a Balrog was.

It was a creature of fire and of shadow, without substance, yet whole and fully formed, with a whip of flame. It had to be twenty feet tall, and it had reached the bridge, and its gaping jaw froze Pippin to the bone.

Gandalf did not flinch. "You cannot pass."

At the base of the bridge, Aragorn and Boromir held their swords hesitantly, as if contemplating charging, but something stayed them. Pippin looked back to the Balrog, and he saw thousands of silent orcs flanking it, waiting, and drawing bows.

The Balrog raised the whip, cracked it down through the air with a sound like thunder, and Frodo cried out, darting forwards. Immediately, Boromir forsook his sword, seizing the hobbit and pinning him to his chest. Pippin did not need pinning. He could not move.

"You cannot pass!" repeated Gandalf. "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass!"

The Balrog did not answer. Pippin could not imagine words coming from that awful mouth, could not fathom that such a beast could form words at all. But instead, it seemed to grow, which was infinitely worse, stretching out its shadows until it seemed to fill the hall beyond the bridge. Pippin pressed himself against the stone wall, feeling it cold and sharp on his back, and he could not tear his eyes away. He could not run. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Merry, Bróin and Nelly peering back around the corner in horror, but they too, seemed frozen.

Only Frodo fought to return to Gandalf, struggling wordlessly in Boromir's arms.

With a noise like shrieking steel, a sword of flame was raised high in the air and the Balrog lurched onto the bridge, but Gandalf roared in a voice louder than any Pippin had ever heard.

"You shall not pass!"

His staff smote down upon the bridge, and at once it spilt like butter sliced with a hot knife. The Balrog gave a hideous cry and fell into the abyss with the stone, its flames sinking into shadow. Pippin's knees went weak, and he sagged against the stone.

A whip of fire snapped around Gandalf's legs.

Brought him down onto his stomach, dragged him towards the abyss.

The wizard's fingers clutched at the rock of the bridge, but they were all that held him.

Pippin held his breath, waiting for Gandalf to move, to spring back up and run after them.

But he did not.

"Fly, you fools!" he cried.

Let go.

And then he was gone.

"No!" Frodo screamed, his voice throwing out a grief so strong that Pippin was surprised the mountain did not shake. "No, Gandalf, Gandalf!"

Pippin could not scream. He could not move. His eyes were fixed on the broken bridge, on the space where Gandalf should be. Gandalf was a wizard, he would come back, surely he would come back, jump up and yell at them, and hurry them out of the door.

An arrow broke behind his ear and Pippin flinched, but he could not move away, he had to wait, they had to wait! Gandalf would be back in a moment, he had to be.

"Pippin, come on!" sobbed Merry, grabbing Pippin's elbow and tearing him away from the wall.

Stumbling, his feet carried him after Merry, but Pippin strained to look over his shoulder. Just wait, just a moment. Merry would see, Frodo would see, it was alright, Gandalf could not die.

Could he?

Pippin caught sight of Legolas, of a face so white and grief-stricken, and he knew at once that he was wrong.

Gandalf could die.

Behind him, Frodo was still screaming, still carried by Boromir, and Pippin had to look away.

Gandalf…

With a cry, he and Merry burst out into the sunlight on the slopes of the mountain, and as the air slapped Pippin's face, so did the realisation that what he had seen was real. That Gandalf had fallen.

That Gandalf, the greatest wizard in all of Middle-Earth, was dead.

There we go, not much changed, but we're so close now that the new stuff is being sketched out and written. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter, I'll see you shortly!