The steps (if they could even really be called that) down from the main patch of land to the gates of Moria were steep, covered in moss. The hobbits lost their footing many times, having to be caught by the men before they possibly plunged to their death into the water and rocks below. Thankfully it only took an hour to descend, our feet landing on only slightly less treacherous rocks. Gandalf ran his hand along the base of the mountain, searching for what would be our entrance: The Doors of Durin. His hand finally found the engraving and it lit up faintly.
"Iditin... It mirrors only starlight and moonlight." Gandalf muttered, peering up to read the Elvish scrawled atop the doors. "It reads, 'The door of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter."
Merry, always the questioning one of the hobbits (or so it seemed) stated at Gandalf a moment before asking, "What do you suppose that means."
Gandalf, feeling apparently confident, replied, "It's quite simple. If you are a friend, speak the password and the doors will open." He smiled before muttering in Elvish, fully expecting it to work. It didn't. The rest of us groaned and sat down, thinking it over while Gandalf continued to try out Elvish phrases.
"Ara, you're an elf. What do you suppose it is?" Frodo asked.
I sighed. "I don't know, Frodo. I was not alive at the time the doors were made though I have heard stories about them. They were crafted during a time before Sauron and after Morgoth was defeated. You see the hammer and anvil near the top? Those represent the line of Durin." I pointed, smiling. The moon was out fully now and the doors were lit up much stronger. "The crown surrounded by stars also represents Durin. The two trees along the side represent the Tree of the High Elves, and that is quite the story for another time." I gave a short laugh, grateful for the history I'd learned and was now able to share. Frodo looked highly interested, and the other hobbits were also listening in, though Pippin and Merry were throwing rocks into the water. Aragorn grabbed Merry's hand and shook his head, indicating the two should stop, then turned to listen to me as well. "And the star in the middle represents the house of Feanor. Again, another story for another time."
Frodo smiled and reached over to give me a hug. "Thank you, Ara. Sometimes I feel as if the quest takes up all our attention that we don't see the beauty or history of the places and things around us. It's nice to sit down and just hear about it, even if the only reason we get to is because Gandalf can't figure out the password. You're a good friend..." His words trailed off at the end, recognition dawning in his eyes. "It's a riddle! What's the Elvish word for friend?"
Gandalf raised an eyebrow and, had the wizard not been such a composed man at the moment, would have probably facepalmed. At least, that was what I would have done if I were him. "Mellon." And with that simple word uttered, a word that was even in the door's message, the doors swung open, allowing us entrance into the dark chamber that would begin the three day trek to the city inside. Gathering together as a group, Gandalf was the first to step foot inside, the moonlight barely spilling in onto the floor.
"Soon, master elf and lady 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 it a mine..." Gimli spoke, snorting in indignation and possibly a bit of outrage. "A mine!"
Gandald illuminated the end of his staff, shedding better light on the area. What it revealed caused me to gasp, a sharp intake of breath that I couldn't release for a few seconds due to the horror of our surroundings. Dead bodies, skeletons, of dwarves littered the ground. Legolas, being the first to recover, reached down and snatched an arrow out of a body, examining it.
"This is no mine. It's a tomb." Boromir spoke, grim, and Gimli only let out cries of distress. His kin were dead and he'd expected them alive. Legolas finally recognized the arrow, frowning. "Goblins!"
Instinctively everyone but the hobbits drew their swords and began to back away out the doors, fearing what would come upon us should we continue into the mines. The dwarves had been dead for quite some time meaning the goblins had time to grow in numbers. If they had already managed to kill every single dwarf it was very slim ten travelers could make it through alive. "We make for the Gap of Rohan. We never should have come here." Boromir once again spoke.
While our backs had been turned no one had noticed a tentacle reaching out of the water and certainly didn't see it grab onto Frodo's ankle before it pulled him away and into the water. Only his anguished cries alerted us and Aragorn and Boromir rushed forward, hacking at the tentacles. I stayed back, sword out and ready to attack any tentacles that came near the remaining three hobbits. Aragorn managed to cut off the tentacle that was holding Frodo, almost dropping his sword as he caught the tiny hobbit. Boromir continued to slice at the limbs as Aragorn retreated with Frodo, though many more tentacles seemed to appear. For each one that was sliced off another two took its place. Gandalf, seeing the hopelessness of the fight, ordered us all back into the mine. I shepherded the hobbits in, alert for any sign of goblins. It was only a matter of seconds before the others joined us and the tentacles grabbed the doors, crushing them down around us. The way out was blocked.
After checking everyone was okay and Gandalf had lit his staff once again, we began to walk the dark, cold trail of stone. Though it had briefly crossed my mind that we dig our way out of the collapsed doors it wasn't guaranteed the creature would be gone. Not that the way of Moria seemed any better now, and we were all silent, filing after Gandalf. It was only hours later that we dared make camp for the night.