Okay, so to make up for the recent lack of updates and the irregular updates, I give you this extra-long chapter! I wanted to jam all of Moria into one chapter, and so here it is. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own only Philip, Hope, Hunter, Fern, and Chase.
Chapter 24: Drums in the Deep
Philip felt miserable.
His clothes were still soaked from the Watcher incident, and the darkness of the Mines seemed to press in on him from all sides. The caverns were eerily quiet, the only noise being the sound of the company's echoing footfalls. Gandalf led the fourteen of them, the small crystal atop his staff providing minimal light. Aragorn and Chase had lit a few iron braziers they had found on the walls, the dim flames causing the shadows to dance and flicker strangely.
Hunter glanced over at him, noticing that he was not wearing his usual trademark smile. "Are you alright?" she whispered.
"Fine, I suppose," he replied. "I just hate this place."
Hunter nodded in understanding. "I think we all do," she said. "The air here…it feels malevolent." She sighed. "And I can't help but feeling…"
"…that something is following us," Philip finished. A sudden light appeared in his eyes. "Hey, at least we are faring better than some of the Elves." Indeed, for Legolas looked distinctly uncomfortable in the darkness and Chase was gripping his torch so firmly his knuckles were whitening. Chase, who had heard the comment, turned to glare at the duo briefly before continuing on.
Hunter chuckled softly, a small grin on her face at his change of mood. "Now there is the Philip we all know and…well, know."
"Hey!" Philip feigned hurt, pouting slightly at Hunter's remark. But Hunter could tell from the gleam in his eyes that he was back to his usual self again.
~o*o*o*o~
The Fellowship soon came to a narrow ledge along a cliff, below which stretched a seemingly endless pit. Ladders and chains were strewn about in the chasm, and the walls of the cavern glittered in the soft light of Gandalf's staff.
"What is it?" Philip asked as Gandalf gently touched the sparkling sliver embedded in the walls. "Gold? Silver?"
"Some may call it silver of a sort," answered the Wizard. "It is mithril, the source of Moria's wealth. Lighter than a feather and stronger than a dragon's hide, mithril is of a most incredible value." Gandalf continued to walk along the wall, the Fellowship in a line behind him. "Bilbo had a shirt of mithril rings Thorin gave him."
"A corslet of Moria silver!" Gimli exclaimed, his eyes wide and his bushy eyebrows almost disappearing beneath his helmet. "That was a kingly gift!"
"Indeed it was, Master Dwarf," Gandalf replied. "I never told him this, but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire and everything in it. I wonder what became of it. It's probably now just gathering dust in Michael Delving's mathom house."
The Fellowship continued on, clambering up a massive gray stone stair. It was relatively easy for most of the party, but some of the steps were much too big for the hobbits. Fern gave a little yelp as Pippin slipped, nearly falling on her.
"Sorry," he muttered, struggling to climb back up.
"It is fine," Fern replied, helping the hobbit up the next few steps. She had taken quite a liking to the hobbits, surprised to see so much of herself in them. They were all very naïve, having only read about adventures and the like in books. None knew what it would be like traveling through the wilderness or fighting monstrous beasts. The others of the company had experience with this, but they honestly had no clue as to what they were getting themselves into.
Finally, they reached the top of the stairs. A pile of giant boulders was piled haphazardly in the center of was could be called the underground version of a courtyard. Ahead of them were three large stone archways, each identical to the others. Gandalf abruptly stopped, gazing at the three doorways with his eyebrows furrowed together in thought. When he finally turned back to face the company, his face was grim.
"I have no memory of this place."
~o*o*o*o~
"Merry."
"What, Pippin?"
"I'm hungry."
The hobbits' whispered conversation carried throughout the cavern as the Fellowship waited. Hunter and Fern had both fallen asleep, leaning against the side of a rock. Sam and Philip sat beside Merry and Pippin, listening to the two young hobbits' aimless conversation. Frodo had left some time ago to talk to Gandalf about something, the Wizard sitting on the largest boulder and puffing pensively on his pipe. The others were silent, their eyes flickering around the dank cavern.
Eventually, Boromir rose, striding over to sit beside Hope. The young Ranger cocked an eyebrow, surprised that the Gondorian had approached her. Boromir had mostly kept to himself in Moria, a dour expression ever-present on his face.
"We should not have come here," he muttered softly. "Something foul lurks in the shadows."
"I know," Hope replied. "We all can feel it." She glanced at him. "Though I do not think you came here just to say that."
Boromir chuckled. "No, I did not." The smile disappeared from his face. "I had….heard in Rivendell that Aragorn was the heir to the throne of Gondor." His voice held much doubt in its tone, as if he couldn't believe that the ragged Ranger was meant to be king.
Hope sighed – she had expected this to come up sooner or later. "Yes, it is true," she said, answering his unspoken question. "But he does not want to reclaim the throne, if that is what you are concerned about."
The Gondorian huffed. "Gondor needs no king," he grumbled. "Long have we stood under the rule of a Steward, and we shall not fail now."
"Do not be so sure of the abilities of others. Time can change much in a person." Just look at the five of us, Hope added mentally, glancing around at the other Elenmîr.
Boromir opened his mouth to retort, but he was interrupted as Gandalf suddenly leapt to his feet, gesturing with his staff towards the left passage. "It's that way!" he called out.
"He's remembered!" said Merry.
"No," Gandalf replied, placing his powder blue hat atop his head. "But the air does not smell so foul down there. When in doubt, young Meriadoc, always follow your nose."
The thirteen other members of the Fellowship followed Gandalf down the passage. Eventually, they emerged into a vast cavern. The light atop the Wizard's staff flared, illuminating a sight none there could believe. Wide columns as thick as tree trunks stretched upwards, no doubt reaching the ceiling that they could not see. Intricate swirls were carven into the stone pillars. "Behold!" Gandalf cried. "The great realm and Dwarf-city of Dwarrowdelf!"
Philip let out a low whistle. "That's impressive."
"Dwarf-work, laddie," said Gimli, a small grin on his face.
The company pressed on, unable to keep themselves from gazing around in awe. Suddenly, Gimli let out a distressed cry, sprinting to a doorway just ahead of their path. "Gimli!" Gandalf called, but the Dwarf paid no heed. Swiftly, the Fellowship ran after him, entering the chamber. Skeletons were strewn about the floor, littered with dust and cobwebs. A lone shaft of sunlight spilled into the room, falling onto the white marble tomb in the center of the chamber. Gimli was on his knees before the tomb, crying and moaning with grief.
Gandalf stepped forward, reading the runes inscribed upon the tomb. "'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria.'" The Wizard sighed. "He is dead then. It is as I feared."
Hunter had gone to Gimli's side, putting a comforting hand on the Dwarf's shoulder. Gandalf, meanwhile, had seized a large, dusty tome from beneath the arms of a skeleton. The pages were thick and yellow, some falling out of the book. Giving his hat and staff to Pippin, the Wizard began to read aloud. "We cannot get out…We cannot get out…They have taken the bridge and the Second Hall…The Watcher in the Water took Óin…The end comes near…We hear drums…drums in the deep…They are coming."
CLANG!
All present jumped at the sudden noise, glaring around the room. Eventually, their eyes landed on Pippin standing sheepishly beside a well. Slowly, the skeleton perched on the side of the well tumbled in, following the bucket that had preceded it.
Gandalf's eyes flashed with anger. "Fool of a Took!" he snapped, wrenching his hat and staff from the frightened hobbit's grasp. "Next time, throw yourself in so we may be rid of your stupidity!"
Legolas's eyes flickered around the chamber. "We cannot linger here," he said. "We must move on!"
DOOM. DOOM.
Everyone stiffened, laying their hands on their weapons. "Drums," Fern breathed, her eyes wide with fear. "Drums in the deep…"
"Frodo!" Sam suddenly cried, gesturing wildly at Frodo's sheath. Frodo drew Sting, only to see its blade glowing blue.
"Orcs!" Chase hissed, casting aside his torch.
"Barricade the doors!" Boromir yelled, rushing to the doors they had entered through. Philip began to rush towards the other set of doors on the eastern side, but he was soon stopped by Gandalf.
"No!" the Wizard bellowed. "We do not want to trap ourselves in here! Leave the eastern gate open!"
Hope and Aragorn joined Boromir at the front doors, slamming them shut and tossing axes and swords against the wood. However, this was not before Boromir was able to get a quick glimpse at the oncoming foes.
"They have a cave troll," he muttered dryly, wedging a long spear across the heavy doors.
The rolling of the drums steadily grew louder and faster, ghastly shrieks now accompanying their thunder. Gandalf cast aside his hat and unsheathed Glamdring, the Elven blade gleaming with an icy blue light. Chase swiftly notched an arrow on his bow, mirroring Legolas. Gimli had leapt onto Balin's tomb, clenching his axe and baring his teeth. Philip readied his shield for the imminent charge, his sword drawn. Hunter's stout blade flashed in the shaft of sunlight.
"Get back!" Aragorn called to the hobbits, all of whom had huddled together, their blades drawn. "Stay close to Gandalf and Fern!"
Fern was quite surprised that Aragorn had entrusted the safety of the hobbits to her, but nevertheless she drew an arrow, waiting to fire. Aragorn and Hope had also readied their bows, standing in the front of the company alongside Legolas and Chase. The great wooden doors began to tremble and shake, the drums and the shrieks growing ever-louder. Black pikes and spear-heads pierced through the wood. Legolas and Chase fired through the gaps in the doors, and two shrill shrieks of pain could be heard from the other side. Aragorn and Hope also loosed their arrows, but neither could be sure if they hit their mark, for it was at that moment that, with a thunderous boom, the doors crashed down, and a horde of orcs flooded the chamber.
Fern could not tell if what she yelled was a battlecry or a terrified scream. Her bow sung out as she ran forward with the hobbits, following Gandalf's lead. The elleth could hear Aragorn, Boromir, Philip, and Hope's shouts as they charged into the battle, their swords slashing through the masses of orcs. Hunter was nearby, her short blade making surprisingly quick work of a goblin. The Elvish arrows of Legolas and Chase soared through the air.
Suddenly, the very ground began to quake, and a monstrous creature, its hide pale yellow tinged with blue, charged through the doorway. In one hand it held a colossal stone club, and its beady black eyes flickered hungrily around the room. An iron collar was around its neck, from which a long chain swung.
"Cave troll?" Philip asked as he stabbed a goblin through the chest.
"Cave troll," Boromir replied, swiping off the head of another orc.
The troll reared up, its club raised high above its head. Chase, Fern, and Legolas all fired arrows into its exposed chest, but the troll was completely unfazed. Philip then leapt at it and swung his sword with all his strength at its side; but the sword rang and glanced aside. Not a mark was left on the troll's hide. The troll, however, did feel the blow, and with a shuddering roar, swung its arm into the young Gondorian, sending him flying into a wall. Hunter watched as a goblin raised his sword to smite Philip as he lay still on the ground, and without a second thought, she rushed forward, goring the goblin through with her short blade.
"You absolute idiot," she growled, holding out a hand to help him up.
"Thank you," Philip replied, though from his tone Hunter could not tell if he was thanking her for saving his life or for calling him an idiot.
Much like the Warg battle on the hilltop, everything was total and utter chaos. Hope and Chase fought together, the latter now using his thin blade beside Hope's much larger sword. Everything else around them was little more than a blur, though Chase swore he saw Sam begin knocking out orcs with his frying pan and Legolas leap atop the troll's back and fire an arrow into its neck.
Suddenly, a high cry of pain echoed throughout the chamber. All eyes turned to see Frodo pinned against the wall by the troll, a spear jutting out of his side.
The Fellowship's cries of rage shook the air. The strength of their attacks was tripled, and the orcs fell swiftly before them. Pippin and Merry were clinging onto the troll's back, stabbing it mercilessly with their daggers. Chase and Legolas fired two arrows into its throat, and the cave troll fell, unmoving.
Everyone's eyes lingered on the troll's dead body for a moment before rushing to Frodo's side. Aragorn reached the hobbit first, gently turning him over and removing the spear. "No," he breathed.
And then, to everyone's surprise, Frodo groaned. He coughed a bit as he eased himself into a sitting position. "I'm alright," he said, gazing up at the shocked faces of the Fellowship. "I'm not hurt."
"Frodo, there has never been a time when I was more delighted to hear you speak," said Gandalf. "I feared it was a brave but dead hobbit Aragorn held."
"Indeed," said Aragorn. "That spear would have skewered a wild boar!"
"Well, it seems that hobbits have tougher hides than wild boars," said Hope with a slight grin, "or perhaps something more."
Slowly, Frodo unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a glittering shirt of silver mail beneath. Gimli gasped in wonder.
"Mithril!" the Dwarf cried. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins!"
The company's relief that Frodo was still alive soon disappeared as a tumult of shrieks and drums came their way. Gandalf's face swiftly became grim.
"To the Bridge of Khazad-Dûm!"
The Fellowship immediately complied, plunging through the eastern doorway and down the stair that lay beyond. They emerged into yet another hall, the screeches of the orcs not far behind. Like a mass of spiders, orcs poured down from the cracks in the ceiling, scampering down the pillars to completely surround the Fellowship. The company stood back to back in a small ring, holding their weapons out shakily. The goblins snarled and jeered at them, brandishing their black blades and baring their teeth.
A low, guttural growl suddenly echoed through the hall. The orcs again shrieked, but this time, it was out of fear and not malice. A malevolent, fiery glow came from the entrance the Fellowship had passed through, causing the orcs to scatter.
"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked, turning to Gandalf.
The Wizard leaned on his staff wearily, closing his eyes for a moment. "A Balrog," he muttered darkly. "A demon of the ancient world." Gandalf whirled around, fear and dread evident on his face. "This foe is beyond any of you. RUN!"
Without hesitation, the Fellowship began sprinting towards the end of the hall as fast as they could, none but Gandalf daring to look behind them. Boromir charged through the archway first and down the flight of stairs, only to come to an abrupt halt. Rocks crumbled beneath his feet into a deep abyss below him as he teetered on the edge of the broken stair. Legolas and Chase seized his shoulders and pulled him back before the Gondorian could fall into the chasm. The roar of the Balrog rumbled behind them, drowning out Gandalf's voice as he shouted instructions to Aragorn.
The company continued to race down the stone steps through the cavern, the walls seemingly glowing orange with flame. Ahead of them was a crumbling gap in the stair, over which Legolas nimbly leapt over. Chase swiftly followed, the two ellons beckoning the others to join.
"Gandalf!" they called. The Wizard, gripping his staff tightly, jumped, Fern, Philip, and Hunter right behind him.
Boromir seized Merry and Pippin around the waist and sprang over the gap after his companions just as the steps they were standing on fell away.
Hope gritted her teeth nervously as she looked at the widening gap. Suddenly, the sound of orc cries and arrows reached her ears, and she looked up to see goblins in the crevices above them, raining their black arrows down upon the company. Legolas, Fern, and Chase all returned fire, the Elvish arrows finding their marks.
With a loud grunt, Aragorn tossed Sam over the large gap. The Ranger turned to Gimli, only to have the Dwarf shake his head. "Nobody tosses a Dwarf!" he cried, proceeding to leap over the gap. He nearly missed, and he would have fallen into the chasm below if it had not been for Legolas seizing hold of his long auburn beard.
"Not the beard!" Gimli bellowed as the ellon hauled him onto the other side of the stairs.
"Better your beard than you life, Gimli!" Philip hollered back.
The stair holding Frodo, Aragorn, and Hope trembled, and the three were forced to jump back as the stone beneath them crumbled away, nearly sending Aragorn down into the abyss. Hope seized the elder Ranger's hand and hauled him up, staring terrified at the now too wide gap between them and the rest of the Fellowship. The stair shook again as the Balrog roared, and a huge boulder smashed through the steps behind them, trapping the three on the doomed piece of stairs.
The stairs began to wobble precariously. "Lean forward!" Aragorn bellowed, holding his arms out so neither Frodo or Hope would fall. Hope felt her breathing quicken as the stairs lurched forward, falling ever so slowly towards the others. Closer…closer…closer…
"JUMP! NOW!"
The three sprang forward. Fern caught Frodo as Legolas hauled Aragorn upright and Chase caught Hope. The Fellowship, now complete, sped onwards as the stair they were on crumbled into the darkness below,
The company raced into a wide hall, ahead over which was a narrow bridge. "OVER THE BRIDGE!" Gandalf bellowed. "FLY!"
Flames licked the cavern walls as Gandalf urged the Fellowship onto the bridge of Khazad-Dûm. The heat of the fire was upon their backs, pushing them onwards. One by one, the Fellowship crossed the narrow stone bridge, waiting at the end for Gandalf. The Wizard was last to cross, but he stopped midway, whirling around as the Balrog materialized before them.
It was at this moment that Fern realized that reading about monsters was not quite as frightening as seeing them. She had read this section of the book over a hundred tinmes, yet never had she felt so blatantly terrified. The Balrog was a massive beast, its skin black as ash, two horns curling from its head. Dark smoke seemed to surround it, forming two monstrous black wings on its back. Its eyes burned with fiery red light, and in its hand it held a long crackling whip of flame.
"You cannot pass!" Gandalf bellowed, his staff in one hand and Glamdring flashing in the other.
"Gandalf!" Frodo cried, but Fern held him back. The elleth was determinedly looking at the ground, knowing exactly what would happen next.
She was not the only one who knew, for with a loud cry, Chase sprang forward. The ellon was stopped, however, by Hope firmly seizing his arm. "Hope!" he began, about to snap at her, but he stopped when he saw the pained look upon her face.
"There is nothing we can do, Chase!" she cried, her voice breaking with suppressed tears. "Nothing!" Chase could tell, though, that she, just like him, wanted to do nothing more than run onto the bridge and yank Gandalf away Even though he was almost certain that the Wizard would return, he could not bear the pain and the guilt of seeing the Fellowship mourn around him.
Gandalf was chanting, a radiant white glow gathering at the top of his staff. "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" he bellowed, and with all of his strength, he slammed his staff upon the stone.
The rock broke right at the Balrog's feet, and the hideous beast tumbled into the darkness below. But even as it fell, its whip cracked through the air, lashing around Gandalf's knees. The Wizard staggered and fell, grasping vainly at a crack in the stone. "Fly you fools!" he gasped, and then he was gone.
Words could not describe the grief of the Fellowship, just as how words could not describe the terror of the Balrog. A cold hand seized Hunter's heart as she finally recalled this chapter in the book. Philip and Chase were breathing rapidly, trying to hold back the tears and failing miserably. Fern winced as she ran, listening to the grieving cries of the others. Tears streamed down Frodo's face as Boromir dragged him towards the exit, calling for Aragorn and Hope. The two Rangers stood frozen on the edge of the chasm, stunned. A weight had settled in Hope's stomach, the weight of grief, hopelessness, and most of all, shame. Finally, she jolted out of her shock and grabbed Aragorn's arm, urging him out of the mines.
The bright sunlight met their eyes, almost too bright and cheerful. The Fellowship, minus one, crumpled down with grief, crying, yelling, or just merely staring into the air, shocked to the core. The air was filled with the sound of many tears being shed, as the company mourned the loss of their companion and leader. And deep in the earth, the drum beats faded, heralding the end of Gandalf the Grey.
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