Chapter Fifteen: Of Labels and Face-palming
"I will survive, as long as I know how to love,
I know I'll stay alive, I've got all my life to live,
I've got all my love to give,
And I'll survive."
- Gloria Gaynor, I Will Survive.
She marched into the mines, tripping several times from lack of light and sat down on the floor. There's no point going back out only to go back in again. So I'll sit here and watch everyone flounder about like headless chickens. Or fish. Or candyfloss. It really smells. Oh wait. That's just Aragorn dominating- Ah. Already used that one. That's highly unoriginal. Bad Lizzie. She gave herself a slap as a scolding.
The rest of the fellowship stepped warily into the darkness of Moria, looking at the dank cavern, and at the winding steps leading deeper into the mountain. "Soon, master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves; roaring fires, malt beer, red meat off the bone. This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin and they call this a mine!" He snorted. "A mine!"
"Elizabeth?" Asked one of the Hobbit's; the darkness prevented her from seeing her own hand, yet alone another person.
"Yes?"
"Why are you sitting on the floor?"
"Because of what's about to happen."
A glow from Gandalf's staff lit up the chamber and Elizabeth jumped as she found herself sitting next to a Dwarf skeleton peppered with arrows. The whole room was strewn with skeletons wearing rusting armour and shields. "This is no mine, this is a tomb."
"No!" Gimli moaned, grief stricken. She sat quietly in the corner, feeling incredibly sorry for Gimli.
Legolas pulled a crude arrow out of a corpse and spoke his infamous line. "Goblins!"
Why is he always labelling things? "A fell voice!" "Crebain from Dunland!" "Goblins!" I mean, come on, dude! Be more imaginative. He could have his own brand: The Legolas Label Maker. For all your obvious labelling needs. The remainder of the group drew swords and backed away towards the door. "You're making a mistake!" Said the girl in the corner, only to realize no one was really paying attention to her.
"We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here."
Elizabeth saw it before anyone else. A long, dark tentacle shot out of the water, advancing to the unsuspecting Frodo. "Um, guys, don't want to worry you or anything, but a monster is about to grab our Ring-bearer by the foot." She kicked the appendage, making in flinch, but wasn't enough to stop it wrapping itself around Frodo's ankle and pulling him to the ground.
"Gandalf! This would be a good time to give me my staff back!" She yelled, gaining the attention of her companions. Frodo cried out, as one would deem appropriate for being dragged towards a flesh-eating monster. Aragorn rushed forward and severed the tentacle holding Frodo.
All was going to according to plan, until a large, wooden object hit Elizabeth on the bridge of her nose. "Ow! Who threw that?"
"You asked for your staff." Said Gandalf simply. "It is not my fault if you couldn't see it coming."
She growled "Still sore about last night's joke are we?"
("Hey, Gandalf?"
"Yes?"
"Want to hear a joke?"
"Another one?"
"Yeah, I made it up myself!"
"Very well, but this will the last I hear by the end of the night."
"Yeah, Yeah, okay. Why did the chicken cross the road?"
"Why?"
"To rescue Gandalf!" Needless to say, he had been outraged.)
She picked up the staff anyway and ran to join the fight. Boromir hacked at the other writhing limbs, swinging his sword in arcs to land blows that would have been deadly to another creature. Twenty more tentacles ripple out of the lake and the dark water boiled as the hideous beast lashed out. "Strider!" Shouted Sam.
Frodo called out from the grip of the Watcher. "Help!"
"Aragorn!"
"Mister Frodo!"
"Legolas?"
"DONKEY!" Screamed Elizabeth, quite fed up with this overgrown squid.
This sounded better in my head. She was currently running around, not being much help at all. She waved the staff in the air, making an attempt to look menacing. The Watcher grabbed Frodo and pulled him back towards the lake. She ninja-rolled out the way of a tentacle, swinging wildly to fend off the attackers. He was flung into the air as Elizabeth did her best to help. Her idea of helping tended to consist of skipping around, pretending to be a ninja and rolling out of the path of any debris coming her way.
Aragorn sliced at the limb, Frodo was released, falling conveniently into Boromir's arms. "Into the mines!"
"Legolas!" The Elf shot the Watcher in it's great head, gaining a couple of vital seconds (especially for Elizabeth, who, if not dragged by the arm, would have continued to ninja-roll straight into the lake). The group hurriedly retreated into the chamber as many coiling arms seized the large doors. With a shattering echo, the creature ripped the doors away, creating a rock slide that crashed down the cliff face. Within seconds, tons of rock seal the doorway, throwing the fellowship into pitch blackness.
"Well." She stated. "What a pickle we find ourselves in."
A faint glow rose from Gandalf's staff, the light playing with shadows. "We now have but one choice. We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard, there are older and more fouler things than the Orcs in the deep places of the world."
"In other words, something worse than Aragorn smells." I'm making a lot of jokes at Aragorn's expense lately. Almost like the almighty author of creation is too lazy to come up with anything better. She caught Boromir's eye. "I sense a disturbance in the Force." She said, then tipped her head like they had an inside joke.
Gandalf led the way, followed by Frodo and Sam. She gently caught the Hobbit by the arm. "You okay?" She whispered and he nodded, face tired and drawn. She stuck her tongue out of Legolas, in an immense act of immaturity, while Gimli hid his smile by turning away. Then came Merry and Pippin, a little shaken from the Watchers violent acts, but otherwise fine and dandy. That was where she slotted herself, after Pippin but before Boromir. This way, I get to have fun AND I get to tell Boromir all these splendid jokes I've been thinking of! Such fun.
The mines of Moria, she soon discovered, was not a place to be trifled with. The stone hallways and stairs were crumbling, much like a jam tart left for too long in the sun. Rocks and pieces of armour littered the floor, making it difficult to go anywhere without stepping on something or other.
She sneezed, the sound reverberating horribly. "Shhhh!" Complained Gandalf.
She whisper-shouted, "Alright! Keep your hair on, Mr. Librarian!" Then, continued, "Hey, Gimli?"
"What is it?"
"What's this?" She proclaimed, holding up the scrap of paper that escaped the threads of Gimli's pack.
Upon realizing what it was, Gimli growled, "Give it back. Now."
"Not my fault I found it! I'm innocent!"
"I care not where it was found, I demand you give it back."
She snickered and began to read it out, "My dearest Gimmers, it is I, Elaebrylla -"
The dramatic reading was halted by Gimli snatching it out of her hand. "That's private!"
"If it was so private, why did you leave your pack open, so carelessly?"
"I thought you were innocent!"
"I am!" She could have sworn he was blushing, even in the gloom.
"I'm carrying my pack! I am certain it wasn't open!"
"It was open when I opened it!"
"Eh? Give your word to-"
"Who's Elaebrylla?"
"No one. Now, give your word-"
"If she's no one, then why did she write you a letter?"
"Give your word that you will not repeat to another living thing what you read."
"And if I don't?"
"That metal contraption you hold so dear will meet an unfortunate end."
She gasped, "Not my iPod! Fair enough, I won't tell-"
She stopped talking. They had come to a precarious bridge above deep mine workings. "Quietly, now. It's a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence will go unnoticed." Another four days? Dammit, why did I spend the entire film swooning at Orlando Bloom, when I should been paying attention to the important plots! How long did it take them in the books? Can't remember. Four days? Of this? Of being quiet? She face-palmed, and would have fallen to her death if Boromir hadn't caught her arm, to prevent her tripping over the edge.