Chapter Seventeen: Of Tigers and Trees
"I looked across the battlefield,
Blood seeping from my wounds,
My comrades, they did never yield,
For courage knows no bounds."
- Heather Alexander, Courage Knows No Bounds.
"Let me risk a little more light." Gandalf tapped his staff. For a brief moment, a light brazes like a silent flash of lightning, then settles to a steady glow, enough to chase away the shadows.
"Hey, Boromir?" She whispered.
"Yes?"
"Would you still love me if I was a tree?" He was so surprised by this question that he managed to bang his knee on his shield. He hissed. For Elizabeth, it was fun to watch the bear-like man clutch his injured knee and mutter, all the while trying to keep quiet. Why am I being ignored today? Me no like being ignored... Oh, who cares? Tinfoil's shiny!
"Behold! The great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf." Frodo gasped at the sight of a vast roof, far above their heads, upheld by many mighty pillars hewn of stone. A huge empty hall stretched before them, with black walls, polished and smooth as glass.
"Well, there's an eye opener and no mistake." Said Sam.
"Wow..." She breathed. "Gotta give it to ya, Gimli, this is really something."
He swelled with pride, despite himself. "Dwarves have always been the better craftsmen." He glared a Legolas.
With a new found energy and grief, he gave a terrible cry and charged to where a glimmer of light could be seen through a crack in a door. Ah. I know what part this is. She clutched her staff tighter and ran after him. Ahead, a wooden door was smashed. Black arrows embedded in the timbers, two goblin skeletons lie in the doorway. She vaguely heard a shout of "Gimli! Elizabeth!" They rushed into another vast chamber, lit with a narrow shaft of sunlight beaming in from a small hole in the roof. Dwarf and Goblin bodies piled high. In far corner sat a stone walled well. The light fell directly onto a stone block; a single oblong about 4 feet high, topped with a slab of white stone. The remainder of the fellowship filed in behind them.
"No...no...oh, no!" He sobbed.
She put a comforting hand on his shoulder. The emotion was all a bit too much for her and she nearly giggled. No, mustn't laugh. There's nothing funny about this. I just don't handle strong bouts of emotion well. She restrained herself. She really, really, didn't want to laugh. Because when short, hairy Dwarves with axes aren't laughing, no one's laughing.
Gandalf quietly read the inscription of runes, carved into the white stone slab. "'Here lies Balin, son of Fudin, Lord of Moria.' His is dead, then. It is as I had feared."
Oh, shit. I should have stopped us from coming here. Dammit. Gandalf carefully lifted the rotting remains of a book from the tomb; it had been slashed and stabbed and appeared to be covered in dried blood. Or cranberry juice. But is was more likely to be dried blood. The pages cracked and broke as he opened it.
"We must move on, we cannot linger." Said Legolas, but with a quick 'shut up, Leggy-bear.' from Elizabeth, he quieted down.
Gandalf began to read, "'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. A shadow moves in the dark. Will no one save us? They are coming." She shivered and looked up just in time to see Pippin backing away nervously. She hurried over and steadied the precariously placed skeleton.
Pippin smiled at her in relief and was about to thank her when she stumbled. It all happened it clichéd slow-motion. She tripped on Merry, who was ready to steady Pippin, and, with her hands flailing, tumbled onto the stone well. And knocked not one, but TWO skeletons over and into the blackness. The fellowship froze in stunned silence as the armoured skeletons clattered down the deep well, echoing loudly. Gandalf turned, horrified.
I knew I'd do something like this. She chastised herself. The others wore equally scared/worried/disbelieving/insert-adjective-here expressions. The skeletons bounced and ricocheted off each other while falling, making double the noise Pippin would have made. She cringed as the chains hit the bottom first, then the weights, then the bones. Gandalf stared at her with such contempt she was astounded laser beams didn't shoot from his eyes. She cleared her throat. "Would it make it any less awkward if I said we could laugh about this tomorrow?" Boromir sighed and the tension was broken.
"Foolish girl! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" So much for changing the story line... Everyone fell silent. A low, rolling boom rose from the depths below.
"Hell." She cursed. It was growing louder. BOOM. BOOM. It was as if the caverns of Moria were turned into a vast drum. BOOM. BOOM. A horn blasted near by. Answering horns. Running feet. Harsh cries. Orc cries.
"Mr. Frodo!" Said Sam, worried.
Elizabeth looked at the cold, blue glow emanating from Sting's scabbard. Frodo drew the short sword and stared at the blade. "Ah, blue. The irresistible classic. It serves as effective stealth colouration while cliff-diving onto bandits on a clear day. They won't know what hit them."
"This is no time for your meaningless rambling! Hold your staff close and find a blade amongst the bodies." Instructed Gandalf. She was about to protest that her ramblings weren't meaningless, but then thought better of it and found a rusted knife in the bones of a deceased Dwarf.
"Orcs!" Declared Legolas.Aaaand Captain Obvious strikes again!
"Get back, stay close to Gandalf." Said Aragorn to the Hobbit's. Not to me, I notice. How inconsiderate. I'll show him. Boromir ran to close the doors, as he did so, two rough, black arrows came whistling out of the darkness. "What was that?"
"I don't know. Go and ask them." She retorted. The motion was not carried. Aragorn and Boromir slam and wedge the doors shut, barricading it shut with about as much efficiency as a wasp is at making honey. (Which isn't very.) Obviously, they have never made a blanket fort.
Boromir commented to Aragorn, "They have a cave troll." She didn't even though how he possibly could have seen the creature in the gloom but did not further push his patience. She concealed the knife in a handy pocket, she could have sworn wasn't there before, and backed up until her shoulders bumped the wall behind. This is it. This is fucking it.
Gimli snatched up an axe and leaped onto the tomb. "Let them come! There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!" Isn't it a little bit disrespectful to be walking all over his cousin's grave? Ooh, better concentrate. Make sarcastic quips later.
Far too soon for her liking, the door began to break. A Goblin poked it's ugly mug through. Elizabeth threw a rock at it, missing of course. Legolas took aim and shot, the arrow hitting the intended target. With a squeal of pain, the creature went down. The door fully burst open in a shower of wood fragments and splinters, Goblins and Orcs flooded the chamber like cockroaches.
Legolas fired many arrows and all ended up embedded in a skull. She shuddered. Fighting was a lot more... bloody than she'd thought it would be. C'mon Lizzie, don't think about it like that. Think about it like...um, like...
She had no time to finish that train of thought, as one Goblin/Orc/Thing (she really couldn't be too sure.) caught her eye and bared it's teeth in horrible mockery of a smile. Another part of her took over. She opened her arms as an invitation and spoke earnestly, "Come at me Bro." It did just that. With a snarl of delight it charged at her.
What it didn't see was her staff protruded outwards in imitation of medieval lance. With an audible 'oof', it hit the wood and fell to the ground in pain, groaning. She laughed. An odd sound in a place of battle. But then again, she had always been an odd fish. In hindsight, he hit himself in the stomach with a stick. That's funny. She hovered over it, unsure. Should I kill it? Knock it out? What? Fortunately, her question was answered when Aragorn stepped back and stood on the creature's head. She winced at the fracturing of bones and flesh.
That's when the Cave Troll made it's entrance. Everyone was engaged in fighting. The clang of steel against steel and the battle cries and shrieks was giving her a headache. Another ran at her and as she was about to kick it in the unmentionables, an arrow shot from high above and the thing went down with a sick, wet splatter. She glanced up and saw Legolas fending off several Goblins while trying to get a good shot at the Cave Troll. "Thanks Legolas." She muttered sarcastically. "For stealing my thun- Arragh!"
That sentence was cut short by the Cave Troll whipping it's chain anywhere and everywhere. She jumped back, crashing into the chest of yet another foul beast. It watched her with big, milky eyes and she almost felt pity for it. Then it tried to stab her and she wasn't having any of that. She gave it's head a swift knock at the head. The Troll was sweeping it's club at Aragorn. He stumbled backwards, the huge club descending for the killing blow. Suddenly, in a flash of steel, Boromir's longsword sliced into the scaly arm. She released a breath she was unaware of holding as the thing reared back, the wound spewing green blood.
"Everybody was kung-fu fighting, na na nana na NA." She walloped nearby Orcs on the head. She handled fighting the same way she handled everything else: with complete disregard for tradition with a tiny bit of skill thrown in. Which is why, if you were there (You weren't), you could have been able to spot her skipping past warriors like Gimli, humming happily to herself and swinging her staff in not-so-life-threatening arcs. I don't know why everybody doesn't do this, it's so much fun!
The air had a faint, musty quality about it, not to mention the stench of fresh blood. She heard Sam saying, "I think I'm getting the hang of this." She tried to stay as far away as was humanly possible from the Troll, sticking near Gandalf.
I hate to admit it, but I ain't no Beowulf. Yet. She thought, absent-mindedly knocking out one after the other. "It's the EYE OF THE TIGER, IT'S THE THRILL OF THE FIGHT." She sang/shouted. Wow, major adrenaline rush.
"You are the reason my hair line is receding!" Gandalf said, decapitating an Orc. He barely sounded out of breath.
"Nah, it's not receding. It's just running away from me." She retaliated.
The Cave Troll lunged forward, thrusting at Frodo's chest with it's spear. When did it get a spear? "Aragorn! Aragorn!" Cried Frodo.
"Never fear! Elizabeth is here!" She announced, darting past several Orcs to get to Frodo. Sam screamed as Frodo was lifted off his feet by the spear tip and slammed against the wall.
"Frodo!" Yelled Aragorn. The Hobbit's, to put it lightly, go batshit crazy. She decided to give it a go as well. Herself and Sam slashed at it's knees, bringing it to it's, well, knees. Merry and Pippin sprang onto it's back, stabbing at it. Legolas fired that final arrow and it went down, toppling over, dead.
"Well." Said Elizabeth. "If I knew this battle business was this easy I would have invested in it years ago."
"You weren't fighting." Growled Gimli. "You were hardly any help at all."
"Ha! You're funny!" She laughed, then became serious. "But looks aren't everything."