Omake/Author's Note:

Saber cursed. Her companions were knocked out and the tentacle monster had her in her grasp. Exhausted and without prana, she could do nothing as the tentacle monster coiled a long limb around her chest. With deft flicks the tentacles ripped her armor into pieces and reached for her—

Saber Lion *rips the Omake into shreds and glares at Author who points at fourth wall. Saber Lion lunges at the fourth wall her claws scratching it: GAO! GAO GAO…GAO GGGGG GAO! GRRRAO GAO GAO

Author: Rough translation. "What is with you men and tentacles! PERVERT! HENTAI! Suggest another perverted scene like that again and I'll sic Mordred on you after I show the review that had the yuri suggestion"…

Mordred *walks up, tired: What is going on… *sees the review.

Author: *ducks for cover: Too late. Run for the next chapter readers, the single longest chapter in this entire story. I really don't mind if you leave comments of that type… its just that Saber Lion and Mordred will. Also, if you notice any changes to canon LoTR movie… Saber's entry is having ripple effects...XD

Chapter 6: The Dark and Flame of Moria

As the reluctant heir of Gondor, Aragorn preferred to keep his heritage hidden, not because he didn't want people to tell him to become king, but because people were usually trying to kill him for it. However, as Arturia stomped towards him, Aragorn realized that Legolas's outburst at the Council of the Ring was going to cost him.

The lady knight was supremely honorable, but along with that honor, came a very strict set of beliefs about what it was to be a king. Aragorn had noticed it at the Council of the Ring, and he had overheard part of Boromir and Saber's conversation prior to them entering Moria.

So when Gandalf stopped at the three separate doors at the top of the Mithril mine, not knowing which one led to where, they had stopped for a rest. Arturia though, had strode toward Aragorn. He did not flinch as she approached as he had been expecting this confrontation for a while.

"Aragorn, you are the heir to the throne of Gondor, are you not?" whispered Arturia in a harsh tone.

The ranger paused as he finished off his small piece of salted pork. "Yes. I assume you wish to ask me why I have not taken my seat on the throne of Gondor?"

"You are correct. After all, isn't it your duty to do so?" asked Arturia, pointedly.

Getting up, Aragorn paced across the narrow ledge. "Doing what duty accords us does not always mean we are doing the right thing. There are also many forms of duty."

Arturia scowled. "But aren't the duties of a king is the highest of them all?"

Aragorn gulped. The long walks in the darkness with nothing to hunt or forage must have been wearing on the lady knight. Dark circles were sunken beneath her eyes and she was gripping her sword tightly. It made sense, as Aragorn had noted earlier that Arturia always ate a lot, thrice as much as a normal man. It appeared her insane strength and numerous combat abilities seemed to require a very high energy intake.

"Yes, but fulfilling one's duty does not mean one is doing right—"

"In an ordinary person's case, yes, but not for a king. The king's sole duty should be to protect his people, to rule righteously and uphold justice. By definition, his duty is to "do the right thing!" If he purposely breaks it, that king is nothing more than a tyrant!" Arturia's gaze took on an air of disdain. "And if he purposely neglects his duties, then he is nothing but a incompetent coward."

Gritting his teeth, Aragorn met Arturia's defiant glare. "Do not speak of what you do not understand."

Chuckling, Arturia shook her head. "No, I understand perfectly. It is you who does not understand what your absence is doing to your own people. I have talked to Boromir, and it is a miracle Gondor has held itself together for so long. As it is, it is veering toward collapse." Pausing for a moment, Arturia's gaze softened. "I do not begrudge your decision for taking this quest, as the fate of the world hangs in the balance, but the longer you play ranger, the more your people will pay."

Sighing, Aragorn rubbed his forehead. The knight's arguments were strong, and reminded him of what he had known for a long time. Eventually, he would need to return to Gondor and assume his rightful place as king. Arturia's reminder though was as subtle as a blunt hammer.

"Fair enough, but Arturia, why do you say a king's duty is solely to the protection of his people?" asked Aragorn.

"Is that not the definition of a good king?" retorted Arturia, crossing her armored arms.

"Yes, but you should know as well as I do, that there are a variety of methods to achieve that goal. What should a king do then?" asked Aragorn.

"Then that king should uphold his beliefs of what is right, never changing, never yielding, even if it costs him everything," declared Arturia.

Aragorn frowned. The instant response from Arturia suggested she had internalized this creed. But why would a knight memorize something like that? Deciding that it was not his place to pry, Aragorn moved on to his next question.

"But why would you suggest a king really uphold those beliefs at the cost of his own life? Who would lead his people then?"

Aragorn watched as Arturia's mouth opened and closed as she sunk into what the ranger beginning to nickname "phase-outs." These were moments where the knight suddenly became lost in her own thoughts, probably her own memories. Every time she did this, he always noticed her eyes averted and her shoulders slump slightly.

Guilt, along with extreme regret. It was all-too obvious to Aragorn's trained eye. The girl, or woman, Aragorn sometimes wasn't sure exactly which fit Arturia better, but she had made mistakes and had suffered for them.

The question was, was the knight beating herself up for her mistakes for a good reason, or was she doing so senselessly?

"You do not need to answer that question, Arturia. I would just like you to consider it." The knight nodded, seeming somewhat relieved. "But I do wish to ask, how did your kingdom fall?" asked Aragorn in gentle voice.

"Civil war," replied Arturia shortly. She paused for a moment. "The king's half-sister, an evil enchantress cast a spell on the king, resulting in an illegitimate son. That son had been a knight of the king, but when the time was right, he tried to take the throne by force while we were on an expedition to foreign lands. Rallying our forces, we confronted Mordred at a field called Camlann where…" Arturia gritted her teeth. "Our king confronted and slew Mordred, but a mortal blow had been dealt, and he died. Moreover, our knights had wiped each other out."

Mordred… a dread name for a treacherous man, but Aragorn could tell that Arturia hadn't even told half of the story, only the bare bones of it. But it was enough for Aragorn to draw a conclusion as to why Arturia had decided to confront him now of all times.

"Arturia, the death here is affecting you, isn't it? That's why you've been dwelling on the question of kingship," whispered Aragorn.

Sighing, Arturia nodded. "Is it so obvious?"

"You've been spending an awful amount of time just standing by Gimli and making sure he's never without company. But you've also been speaking less, isolating yourself." Aragorn rose to his feet. "Where is the smile that you had when you sparred with Boromir? Where is the fire that was in your eyes when you attacked the lake monster?"

Hesitantly, the ranger placed a hand on the knight's shoulder. "Do not sequester yourself away from others, Arturia, for no living being survives without companionship."

Arturia nodded, a contemplative look on her features. "I understand."

By that time, Gandalf had finally figured out the passage to take, and The Fellowship set off once more.

As Saber walked though, she couldn't help recalling what Aragorn, and even what Elrond had said. Their concern for her, not as a woman, but as a person, was puzzling, but also oddly comforting.

The benefits of companionship and camaraderie… that which she never quite experienced as a distant king, except for her time with Kiritsuguru's wife, Irisviel, during the Grail War. Did she deserve such a thing even when every one of her knights, Guinevere, and even Irisviel, had fallen or suffered because she could not save them? But then again, she was in a new world, with this great opportunity in front of her, without the burden of a king or the duties of a servant. Why should she not take some time to enjoy herself?

Blinking, Saber shook her head to banish the thought from her mind, but she found herself growing accustomed to the idea. The idea of her starting over on Middle Earth… she was doing it right now as she embarked on this new quest. Why couldn't she continue to enjoy her new life afterward? If she had a way to save Britain, she would take it, but she didn't.

"So what is the point about feeling guilty for a mistake you cannot correct?" Saber asked herself as they continued through the dark of Moria.

The Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf! To think that such a short people had built something as magnificent as this… Even in the gloom, Saber felt overwhelmed by the sheer size of the pillared cavern.

"Gimli," said Saber.

"Yes, Arturia?" asked Gimli.

"You dwarves are amazing," said Saber as they continued to walk through the great hall.

"Why thank you—" Gimli's eyes widened as he saw a battered doorway leading off from the main hall and surrounded by dwarf skeletons. All merriment from Arturia's compliment gone, Gimli ran toward it. Saber frowned, and ran after the dwarf.

"Gimli!" called out Gandalf, but to the wizard's consternation, the dwarf wouldn't listen, and he and Arturia ran through the door.

Saber cringed as Gimli slowly walked toward a simple marble tomb in the centre of a chamber filled with skeletons and old weapons, with a well off the side. Moonlight shone onto the slab, filling the room with some light. As if in a trance, Gimli staggered toward the slab and fell to his knees with a thud.

"No. No. No…" Sniffling, Gimli moaned. Saber didn't know why Gimli had been plunged into a state of such sorrow, but she touched the dwarf's shoulder to try to console him.

As Gimli continued to cry, softly hitting the crest of his helmet against the edge of the tomb, Gandalf read the inscription. "Here lies Balin, son of Fudin, Lord of Moria. He is dead, then. It's as I had feared."

Gritting her teeth Saber's grip on the dwarf's shoulder tightened. She knew Gimli had suspected his father's cousin had perished, but to have it confirmed in such a manner…

Taking one knee, Saber bowed to the tomb, clasping her right hand over her breast. "Rest in peace, Lord Balin, for we will carry on the tale of your passing."

Gimli raised his head to glance at Saber in surprise, only to see Aragorn, Boromir, Gandalf, the Hobbits, and… Gimli had to shake his head, his eyes must be deceiving him, the dratted elf, Legolas, kneeling at the feet of his cousin's tomb to pay their respects.

Touched beyond measure, tears sprang to Gimli's eyes. "Thank you… friends."

It was then Gandalf noticed the weighty journal gripped in the skeleton of the dwarf beside the tomb. Handing his hat and staff off to Pippin, the wizard gently pried the book from the dwarf's fingers and flipped through to find the more recent entries.

Saber, having risen to her feet, froze as Gandalf's chilling voice echoed throughout the chamber.

"They have taken the Bridge and the second hall: we have barred the gates...but cannot hold them for long...the ground shakes...drums in the deep...we cannot get out. They are coming."

There was a shout and a clatter. Saber turned, grasping her sword and cursed. It appeared Pippin had been exploring the room, when he had accidentally tripped on a chain near the well. He had gone head over heels and knocked over the dwarf skeleton perched precariously on the well's edge. Lunging forward, Saber managed to stop the heavy bucket from going over as well, but the armored dwarf's remains continued to bounce and create all manner of clangor as it clattered down the well's shaft.

Paralyzed with fear, The Fellowship waited for some kind of response… but nothing happened, and they all let out a sigh of relief.

"Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your clumsiness!"

Saber frowned. "Gandalf that—"

Boom.

Boom

Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, thud, boom, boom, boom boom, screech.

Pale sounding whines filled the air as the drum that had started so quickly, changed to a slower beat.

"Frodo!" exclaimed Sam. Saber saw Frodo draw his short-sword, Sting, slightly and cursed when she saw the blade as glowing blue. Frodo had told her on the journey that whenever the blade glowed, that meant that—

Legolas finished Saber's thought with a grimace. "Orcs!" It prompted Boromir to rush toward the door, and Saber to follow closely after him.

As she and Boromir reached the doors, Saber's instincts kicked in as she heard a familiar whistling noise. Grabbing Boromir's shirt, she pulled him backwards and a second later, an arrow landed where his head was.

"Thanks, and oh dear," said Boromir his face paling. Saber couldn't see behind Boromir's taller back so she stepped beside him and stared. She could just see the head of a bald, hairless monster, taller than any man, with pale skin and beady eyes was being led toward them by a chain by a pack of distant, hunched over figures. It wielded a massive stone mace, easily as tall as Saber.

"What is that?" asked Saber, her voice level as she and Boromir shut the doors.

Boromir grabbed an axe and used it to secure the battered door, Aragorn joining their efforts. "A cave troll. They have a cave troll!"

"Weaknesses?" asked Saber, catching a spear Legolas threw to her and using it to secure the door.

"Sunlight turns them into stone, but we do not have access to it. Their hides are also thick and can only be pierced by elven blades, but even those have difficulty," shouted Gandalf as he ushered the Hobbits toward the rear of the chamber. Drawing his sword, Gandalf yelled, "Their greatest weakness is their limited intelligence."

"Alright then, Invisible Air should be able to compensate," said Saber, racing back to the tombstone of Balin, taking her place beside Aragorn who drew his bow. She followed suite, drawing Excalibur and holding it aloft with both hands.

Not a moment too soon, as whatever was on the other side began to smash the door again and again. It was holding, but it would not for much longer.

Grabbing a fallen axe and leaping onto his cousins tomb with a cry, Gimli drew his own axe. "Let them come! There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

Thump, thump. Crack, thump. The door groaned once again.

"Everybody, leave the troll to me," ordered Saber.

Everybody stared. Boromir half-shouting in disbelief. "What? Arturia, are you mad?"

"I may be a female, but I can handle him myself!" snapped Saber, assuming that Boromir was worried about her because she was a woman, something that she hated.

Shaking his head, Boromir winced as the door shuddered again. "I'm worried for you because that's a bloody troll. Not because you are a girl!"

Blinking, Saber glanced at the Captain of Gondor and his worried expression. "Your concern is appreciated, but when I sparred with you, I used but a tiny fraction of my true strength." Turning back to the door, she grimaced. "As long as you keep the other orcs off of me, I can fight without any concerns."

Not liking at all on what Arturia was proposing, Boromir nonetheless decided to trust her judgement. She had defeated two Nazgul after all.

The orcs on the other side had begun to smash through the door with their axes, leaving gaps in the woodwork. It allowed Legolas and Aragorn to shoot their arrows through the gaps and into the enemies beyond. They only managed to get two arrows in though, before the door was completely smashed off its hinges.

Saber had never seen an "orc"up close, despite having the species described to her on numerous occasions by her more experienced companions. They did not disappoint the malicious and ugly image that she had been informed of. Dressed in black, twisted armor, with warped skin and warped sneers, Saber could practically see the evil off of them. And even if she hadn't, they were charging at her with swords and all manner of weaponry.

The orcs fell on them, screeching battle cries. Boromir stepped forward first to intercept them, using his shield's boss to smash in the face of the first orc, and promptly hacked his head off with his sword. Aragorn, abandoning his bow, unsheathed his sword in both hands, whirling it up and down, slashing into sneering orc faces and parrying hasty slashes. Legolas continued to fire his arrows at point-blank range, while Gimli used the height advantage offered by the tomb to wield his twin axes to deadly, armor-crushing, skull-splitting, effect.

In the face of such ferocious opposition, the orcs went after what appeared to be the easiest target. That was the short, fair-haired girl with green eyes, who seemed to hold no weapon at all, though she had taken the most curious stance. It was as if she did hold a weapon.

They were rudely surprised when the girl moved her hands and their stomachs open, spilling out their guts. Screaming in confusion, the orcs backed away, but the girl advanced, her hands continuing to swing, and they were all cut down like leaves in the face of a autumn wind.

Some orcs raised their shields, but the girl swung her hands downward and they were cut in two, along with the orc's shield arm. Struck with terror at the incomprehensible threat they faced, some orcs fled, right into the old wizard and his band of halflings wielding very sharp shortswords, while many simply ran away.

Saber smirked as the orcs ran from her and the Invisible Air coated Excalibur. Such poor fighters. They couldn't even understand the basic idea behind her sheath of wind. Maybe they had a chance of getting through this without—

A low, guttural roar shook the chamber, and Saber saw the cave troll advance into the chamber, led on a chain by a pair of orcs, who quickly let go to join the fight. Taking a deep breath, Saber levelled her blade and narrowed her eyes as she summoned prana from her reserves, and focused much of it at her feet.

The troll fixated itself on the nearest opponent, her, which was good. Better her than someone like Sam, who was actually dealing out some good hits with his frying pan and sword combination. Giving a roar, the troll charged toward her, raising it's mace high into the air, and sending it crashing down toward her.

That was when she made her move. She leapt forward, her prana boosted muscles slamming her feet into the ground, leaving small cracks on the stone floor. With her speed, Saber dodged under the troll's strike, and swung Excalibur into the troll's left leg.

For a moment, the hide resisted, but the cutting winds of Invisible Air were too sharp, even for troll hide. It gave way, and Excalibur bit deeply into the troll's leg, slicing muscle and bouncing off bone.

The troll howled in pain wobbling as he tried to turn toward Saber, who skidded to a halt past the troll, her blade at the ready. Enraged, the beast grabbed his long chain at Saber with his left hand and swung it at Saber, who jumped over the scything chain and landed on two feet. Gripping Excalibur, she then lunged forward to bring her sword down on the troll's hand, severing a finger at the mid-joint.

The behemoth let go of his chain roaring again as pain blinded his senses. Even with its limited intelligence, it could sense that the girl was too dangerous of an opponent. It needed a weaker target.

Limping away, the troll spotted a man wielding a shield, engaged with two orcs. It swung its mace down on him, but another man with a longer sword and darker hair tackled the man with the shield out of the way and the mace smashed into the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

"Boromir! Aragorn!" screamed Saber her eyes wide with horror.

"We're alright!" yelled Aragorn, helping Boromir up.

That was when The Fellowship heard a cry that chilled them to the bone, none of them knew that Pippin, always cheerful and silly, could make a sound like that.

"FRODO!"

They froze, as they saw the Ringbearer, an orc's sword stabbing his left breast, where his heart was. Frodo had a confused expression on his features, like he had just eaten a bad piece of candy. Swaying like a tree, he fell forward and hit the ground, hard. Pippin, whom Frodo had saved by throwing himself in between his friend and the orc, was already sobbing, while the orc that had stabbed Frodo was gleefully smirking at the cry of despair.

That was the last expression he ever made as his head was severed from his neck by Sam's furious slash. Galvanized by their friend's action, the Hobbits threw themselves at the orcs like mad animals, their short blades flashing and stabbing. Gandalf followed in, charging into four orcs, his staff laying low two of them before Glamdring, his sword, caved the skull of the other two in. Boromir and Aragorn intended to charge another group of orcs, Legolas and Gimli close behind them, knives and axes in hand.

They were not able to get their vengeance though, because Saber went temporarily berserk..

The only warning the rest of The Fellowship had that their only female member had snapped, was the blast of wind that blasted all the orcs entering through the door out of the chamber, leaving them sprawled out on the ground, at best, stunned, at worse, with broken bones.

Saber herself, tears at the edge of her eyes, was holding a magnificent sword in her grasp where there had been only an invisible one. None of them had seen anything like it. It's pure white blade shone like the sun at full noon, filling the chamber with golden light, causing the orcs to wail as if being assaulted by the sun. Holding it in one hand, she strode forward.

"You are lucky that I can't use Excalibur's Noble Phantasm here. I'd kill myself and my friends," snarled Saber. The troll must have sensed its doom because it swung its mace at her again. The rest of the Fellowship shouted out warnings, but with only a single arm, Saber raised her sword and blocked the blow, her sword cracking the head of the stone mace.

"But this will be enough!" Saber's left hand seized Excalibur. With a cry, she threw the troll's weapon off her sword and then jumped into the air, swinging both arms back. The troll raised its arm, but Saber, channeling her prana through her divine weapon, cut through the arm, and continued forward until her blade sunk into the troll's skull. Shining even brighter, the golden sword was lit with golden flames as it continued to slice through the monster, like a knife through butter, until the troll was completely bisected. It stood still for a moment until it fell backward, separating into two halves, Saber standing at the feet of the corpse.

The craven hearts of the orcs, seeing their trump card defeated in such a manner, were filled with fear. They fled in a mad scramble to get away from that dreaded girl and her blade that shine like the sun.

But none of The Fellowship noticed as they clustered around the limp form of ther friend.

Merry piped up, "Arturia, will Avalon..."

"It's worth a try," said Saber sadly as she unbuckled her sheath and turned Frodo over.

To the amazement of all, Frodo immediately opened his eyes, coughing slightly, but otherwise fine. As the hobbits cried out in joy, Saber noticed there was a rather strange lack of blood on Frodo's shirt.

"I'm alright, I'm not hurt," gasped Frodo, hand over his chest.

"You should have been skewered by that orc," said Aragorn.

"I think there is more to this hobbit than meets the eye," said Gandalf as Gimli saw the silver glint under Frodo's shirt and lifted it up to reveal-

"Mithril," whispered Saber, remembering that Frodo's uncle had had a shirt of mithril. Her heart filling with relief, she ruffled Frodo's hair.

"Don't ever do something like that ever again," said Saber, Frodo nodding promptly.

It was at this moment that Saber's stomach chose itself to make its presence known. Like a lion, it roared and Saber felt the blood rushing to her face as her companions burst into full-blown nervous laughter.

"You already had seconds only a few hours ago!" moaned Boromir. It was he who had done the cooking this morning.

"I already took down the cave troll for you! What more can you ask for!" demanded Saber, a smile making itself onto her face in spite of the dire situation. She couldn't help it, she was so relieved Frodo was alive.

"Only one thing… where do you put it all away?" asked Gandalf wryly.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM

Gandalf turned to the Fellowship, the mirth banished from his face. "To the bridge of Khazad-dum!"

In spite of tired limbs and their heavy weapons, the Fellowship ran like never before, Gandalf leading the way, Arturia bringing up the rear, as orcs and goblins swarmed through the caverns, crawling like an army of ants after a dying caterpillar. Yet, although they made good speed, the small group found themselves surrounded by a ring of leering faces.

Saber gritted her teeth. This looks like it was the time to use Excalibur's Noble Phantasm. They were in enough danger and she had lots of space to use her weapon. Raising her sword, Saber was about to shout a warning, when a great guttural bellow echoed through the cavern. It sent the orcs and goblins screeching and scurrying up the pillars and into their holes.

Gimli laughed, but Saber continued to look for the source of the sound. This was too convenient… if so many orcs and goblins would run away just from a noise, it had to be…

Saber stopped, and stared at what seemed like a brightly lit furnace that had appeared out of nowhere in the distance. She could feel the warm air on her nose and smell the scent of burnt stone.

"What is this new devilry?" whispered Boromir.

Gandalf closed his eyes, as if recalling an old memory. Slowly he looked up, his eyes grim. "A Balrog..a demon of the ancient world This foe is beyond any of you!" He glanced at Saber. "Even you, Arturia. Run!"

And the Fellowship rang, pursued by the roars of the Balrog of Moria. Gandalf hurried them across the hall and through a door leading to a set of stone stairs that spanned a gigantic abyss. Saber would have liked to admire it, but there was no time.

"Boromir watch your step!" yelled Saber as the man nearly went over a stair that simply… ended. Forewarned, Boromir managed to stop, and Legolas quickly yanked him back for added safety.

Down the Fellowship went, their foots pitter-pattering over the steps, until they were confronted by a gap in the stairs. Without too much difficulty, Legolas leaped over. Gandalf hesitated for a moment as the ground shook, but followed suit.

Arrows from goblin archers began to fly. Aragorn and Legolas returned fire with their bows, while Saber grabbed Frodo and Sam.

"Gandalf, catch!" Yelled Saber as she tossed the pair.

The wizard, his arms opened, caught the two hobbits and set them down. Boromir, following Saber's example, seized Merry and Pippin and made a running jump, managing to cross the chasm before a section of the stairs crumbled away. Time had taken its toll on the structure.

"Gimli, take my hand," said Saber holding her guantlet out to the dwarf.

"Nobody tosses a dwarf!" Gimli prepared to jump, but Saber grabbed him by the scruff of his neck anyway.

"I'm tossing the only dwarf who has learned of Lord Balin's demise!" said Saber in a stern tone. With that, she hurled a chastened Gimli across the divide, and was promptly yanked back by Aragorn as the stone under her fell away into the oblivion.

"Aragorn, grab hold!" commanded Saber as she sheathed Excalibur.

"Is it the thing you did at the gate?" asked Aragorn as he awkwardly wrapped his arms around the shorter woman's waist.

"No need for it! Hold on!" Saber. Prana coursing through her legs, she braced herself and jumped—

Right when the whole stairway itself gave way, throwing her jump off.

"No," gasped Saber as they began to fall down, too soon, too fast. The Fellowship were staring at her and Aragorn in horror as they dropped. Stretching her arms forward, Saber reached for the edge, but it was just a bit too far.

Which was when Boromir and Gimli managed to seize one of Saber's arms each and stop her and Aragorn from plunging to their deaths. Their teeth clenched, their heels digging into the rock, precariously close to the ledge, the man and dwarf were soon joined by the wizard, elf and hobbits, who pulled their companions up.

They stood there, panting for a moment, until Gandalf got them moving again. On and on the little band ran, urged on by the shuddering ground and furious roars.

"Over the bridge! Fly!" yelled Gandalf, stopping as they passed a fiery pit. The rest of The Fellowship ran on, the bridge just a ways ahead of them, while Saber halted beside Gandalf.

A roar, closer than any of the other ones, spun the wizard and the knight around, and from the flames, rose the Balrog of Moria, known to Gandalf as Durin's Bane.

Saber had faced all manner of monster or beast. She had suffered and prevailed against all manner of machinations and manipulations. But this… was the first time in a long time that fear struck her to the core. For the Balrog was simply beyond her.

In sheer size, the horned beast towered over any cave troll, it's smoky wings only adding to its gargantuan size. From every pore, eye-hole and its mouth, it exuded red-hot flames. The amount of prana she felt from the Balrog… it was as if the strength of five hundred dragons had been imbued into its frame.

But what really scared Saber was that her mind had chosen this moment to remember one rather crucial fact about her state of being.

She was alive.

This is normally a comforting fact, but to a person used to being an immortal, albeit dispellable and defeatable servant, this was a terrifying fact.

Still, Saber drew her sword and raised it with both hands.

"No Gandalf, I will stay. I might have one attack that can wound him." Saber didn't have to even check if the restrictions applied, Excalibur was glowing so brightly, it was as if it was calling her to attack. Shutting her eyes Saber concentrated her prana into her sword. She had no idea whether Excalibur's Noble Phantasm would bring down an enemy of that size, of that power, and with her current reserves of prana… But she had to try

Except Gandalf pushed her aside and seized her shoulder, his grey eyes blazing fiercely. "Do not be so eager to give up your life, Arturia Pendragon, for you were brought here to live, not to die!"

Saber's eyes widened as she stared at the wizard, stunned. Gandalf glanced backwards before turning back to her. "How do you—"

"Remember, true glory is gained by dying at the right time, for the right people, not by recklessly throwing your life away!" Gandalf shoved Saber toward the bridge. "Go! The Fellowship will need you, and you will need them in times to come."

Dazed, Saber followed Gandalf's instruction and joined Aragorn on the other side of the chasm, but he was staring at the other side. Turning around, Saber's heart plummeted as she saw the old wizard standing at the narrowest part of the bridge. Confronting the Balrog.

"You cannot pass!"

"Gandalf!" That was Frodo. Or was it her own scream? Saber wasn't sure, but Aragorn had grabbed her shoulder and was holding her back.

Undaunted, the old wizard raised his staff and sword, a brilliant sphere of white light surrounding him, even as the Balrog burned even brighter and summoned a flaming sword.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun."

The Balrog's sword smashed against Gandalf's shield, dispelling both. Grimacing as the Balrog roared into his face, Gandalf shouted. "Go back to the shadow!"

A whip of fire burning in his twisted hands, the Balrog strode forward.

Gandalf responded by raising his sword and staff. Saber blinked as she felt Gandalf focus his prana into the two weapons. Taking a deep breath, the wizard loudly declared.

"You… shall not… pass!"

Before he brought his staff smashing into the stone bridge. It appeared to do nothing, but Saber quickly realized what the wizard's plan was as the Balrog snorted and finally stepped onto the stone bridge, which instantly collapsed under his feet.

Roaring with anger, the Balrog disappeared into the darkness, and Saber released the breath she didn't know she had been holding as Aragorn let go of her shoulder.

But the Balrog was not done yet. His whip curled upwards, lashing around Gandalf's ankle and pulling him almost completely over the bridge. Scrabbling at the edge, the wizard managed to hang on, barely.

"Gandalf!" screamed Frodo, running forward, but Boromir, seeing the approaching goblin archers, held him back.

Seeing that Boromir had stopped Frodo from doing anything that would endanger him, Saber charged. Her armored feet hitting the ground, Saber raced down the stairs, not caring as goblin arrows bounced off her armor and cut her cheeks.

But Gandalf shook his head, and Saber's charge screeched to a stop as she heard his voice in her mind.

Arturia, the Balrog can fly. I thought earlier that perhaps he was weak enough for us to escape from, but I have just felt the heat of his flaming whip on my skin. I know now that he will not stop until all of you are dead, and not even the dragon blood that Merlin gifted you will be enough to stop him.

Saber's heart stopped. No. There has to be another way…

"This is the only way!" Gandalf groaned as his fingers began to slip. Saber continued to run, but it was as if she was moving in slow motion.

"Fly, you fools," gasped Gandalf, and he let go.

"No!" Frodo's cry was all Saber could hear as she stopped and stared, motionless, at the spot where the leader of the Fellowship, the wisest of their group, had fallen. She didn't care that arrows were raining down around her, or that one had slammed into her shoulder, knocking her back a step. She couldn't hear anything else.

"Aragorn! Arturia!" Somehow, Saber heard Boromir's cry through the trance that had momentarily taken over her and she returned to reality. Momentarily glaring at the goblins across the chasm, she turned around and ran back to rejoin the Fellowship, ignoring Aragorn's concerned look.

As soon as the exhausted Fellowship finally exited the mine and into the midday sun, they fell apart. Legolas showed the least sorrow, but his elven features had been slammed with shock and he looked as if the world had suddenly ended. Gimli was trying to race back to the exit, but Boromir was holding him back. Merry was holding a crying Pippin, while Sam was trying to wipe the tears that flowed down his cheeks. Frodo… he had walked farther down the plateau and was staring at the sky. Aragorn wasn't too far behind him and had taken out a cloth and was wiping his sword, really hard, a clear attempt to find comfort in a familiar action.

As for Saber, she was staring at the exit, sword clenched so tightly in her gauntlet it was shaking. Sighing, she took a moment to reform Invisible Air and sheath Excalibur, then turned to the rest of her companions.

"We must move on," said Saber, in a hoarse, but stern voice infused with authority.

"Give them a moment...for —" Boromir stared. "Arturia... your shoulder."

Saber blinked and looked at herself to see the arrow still sticking out from her left shoulder. Grimacing, she grabbed it with her right hand and wrenched it out, barbed head and all. All the while, her features remained a stony mask. Pain coursed through her shoulder, but it was a welcome distraction from her grief.

"Avalon will take care of it. We have to move." She paused, biting her lip and closing her eyes to stop herself from giving into the desire to cry. "Gandalf would not want us to stop for anything."

Boromir continued to stare at the girl in front of him until Aragorn spoke up. "She's right, Boromir. By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs. We must reach the woods of Lothlorien. Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up. On your feet, Sam. Frodo? Frodo!"

Frodo turned to stare at the Fellowship, his eyes covered with a sort of glazed expression, but he rejoined their group and they continued to shamble onward.

Saber was only half listening as Gimli rambled on about the wood they were in. She didn't care about the trees, beautiful as they were, or about her blood-soaked and dirty clothing and armor. She just wanted to meet whoever Aragorn said they were going to meet and sit down.

Gimli had recovered some of his bravado, but Saber could tell by the sad light in his eyes that he was still mourning Gandalf's death. His bravado was just a front in order to hide it. "Stay close, young hobbits..they say a Sorceress lives in these woods. An elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell...And are never seen again! Well, here's one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox!"

Out of nowhere, elves with drawn bows appeared, surrounding the Fellowship, their arrows points aimed at their necks.

"The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him—" The elf froze as he felt a cold wind against his neck, an armored girl with what appeared to be an invisible sword. She had drawn it so quickly, none of the elves had managed to get an arrow off.

"And I would have slit your throat before you could even released an arrow off of your bow, elf," said the girl in a low voice, making it very clear that to question her was to die.

Luckily, Aragorn managed to push Arturia's sword hand down before any blood could be spilt. In hushed tones, he explained to Haldir, the Captain of Lothlorien, their situation. Raising an eyebrow, the elf gestured his arches to lower their bows.

Gimli was not so easily appeased. "Aragorn! These woods are perilous. We should go back."

"You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood. You cannot go back," stated Haldir. He was about to glance at Frodo, but a dark glare from Saber warned him away.

"Come, she is waiting."

Author's note: Moria is completed and I have a final rough plan for how the entire story is going to work out. Stay tuned.

Also, regarding how Excalibur bisected the troll when Invisible Air couldn't cut bone. Basically according to my interpretation of what's stated in the wiki, Invisible Air is like a knife's edge, it's sharp as hell and sharper than Excalibur, but when you put Prana directly into Excalibur, it's attack power is exponentially increased, therefore Saber can use Excalibur to bisect the troll.

Omake:

Saber Lion: *crying. GAAAAAOOOOO!

Author: there there.

Saber Lion: *Shakes her head. Gao! *sniff

Author: Oh. OHHhhhh yeah that upcoming scene will be sad to a degree… their whole relationship is pretty screwed up. Anyhow, stay tuned to the next chapter.