Chapter Seven: Moria

Iliana's eyes quickly adjusted to the low light as they followed Gandalf through the mines. They had been walking through the corridors and other passageways for over two days, occasionally stopping to rest and eat. Rarely did they speak, for every whisper was an echoing shout within the cavernous mine.

To the dismay of them all, Gandalf lost his way. While the old wizard thought it out and spoke with Frodo, the others took the moment to relax. The other three Hobbits leaned against rocks twice their size. Gimli smoked his pipe, his eyes closed. Legolas and Aragorn conversed quietly in Elvish, glancing around. Boromir stared off in the darkness.

Iliana sighed, feeling restless. She stood from her perch, stepping beside Aragorn. "I'm going to scout," she whispered. "Make sure no one is following."

"No diriel," he whispered, nodding as she slipped away.

Her soft boots made no sound as she scouted, one of her long-knives clutched firmly in her right hand. As she walked, she skittered around more Dwarf bones, the decaying smell almost gagging her. She said a silent prayer, hoping that the dead found peace.

Suddenly, a noise behind her made her tense. She pressed her back against the wall, her knife ready. She heard breathing and swung her blade. Almost too late, she stopped when she saw it was Boromir, his hands raised in surrender.

"Man carel le?!" she hissed, lowering her blade. She glared at him as she sheathed it at her leg.

"What?" he whispered, stepping forward.

She huffed. "You really need to learn Elvish," she told him. "What are you doing here?" she repeated in the Common Tongue.

He gave her a crooked smirk. "Making sure you don't wander off."

Her eyes blazed in the darkness. They began shining, much like that of a cat's. "You foolish Man…" Repressing a growl, she pushed past him and was about to head back to the others when he stopped her.

"What is that mark on your back?"

She turned to face him, her eyes narrowed. "It's a scar," she said. "I've had it for years."

He regarded her carefully. "A scar in the perfect shape of a hand and a crescent moon?" he asked. His look was skeptical. "I don't think so." When she turned to go again, he spoke. "I think you're half Elf, half something else. Not Man, that's for sure."

Iliana spun around and pushed him, slamming him against the wall. She pressed herself against him, glaring, her eyes bright. "It doesn't matter what my parentage is, Gondorian," she hissed. "No matter what I am, I can tear you limb from limb without breaking a sweat." She pushed herself off his body. "I doubt anyone would miss you."

She turned and hurried back to the others, refusing to let his words bother her. Her hood fell, and her brain tumbled down her back as she slowed to a walk just before reaching the group. Aragorn and Legolas were still speaking. Their eyes found hers, and she moved to stand between them.

"Aniral sogad?" Legolas asked, handing her his water bag.

She took a long sip, lowering it from her lips as Boromir returned. She ignored him and smiled at Legolas. "Le hannon," she thanked him, handing it back.

"Oh!" Gandalf exclaimed, rousing them all. "It's that way." He nodded down a tunnel.

"He's remembered!" Merry said, standing.

"No," Gandalf replied, "but the air doesn't smell so foul here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."

Iliana felt exhausted. She was tired of breathing the stale air of the mines, tired of the dark. She'd lost track of the hours they'd been in the mines. She hadn't slept since before Boromir said she was Half-Elf, however long ago that had been.

Gandalf stopped, and the others gathered around him. "Let me risk a little more light," he said, raising his staff and illuminating the cavern. "Behold," he said as the other gasped, "the great realm and Dwarf-city of Dwarrowdelf."

The pillars were massive, the carving etched beautifully in the stone.

Beside Iliana, Sam mumbled, "There's an eye opener, and no mistake."

Iliana smiled to herself before she moved to Legolas.

"Man anirach cerin an le?" he asked, his cobalt eyes bright as he gazed around the Hall.

"I need to ask you about Half-Elves," she said in the Elvish language.

His eyes moved to hers, and she blushed, lowering her gaze. "What is it?" he asked.

"Can you tell when someone is a Half_Elf?" she asked quickly before she lost her nerve. Everyone else was walking again, and she knew their voices wouldn't carry to Aragorn or Gandalf.

Legolas gave her a fleeting smile. "You want to know if you're Half_Elf, don't you?" She nodded, and he reached up and ran a finger over her ears, which were a little less pointed than his. "Lady Iliana, you absolutely have Elf blood in you. And I am honored to say such." He inclined his head, his eyes dancing.

She thanked him and walked on, deep in thought. "Half-Elf?" she thought. "But what's the other half? How did I get out of the snow? And my shoulder?" She blinked away tears, angry that her memories of her family were all lies.

Suddenly, they came upon a room, and Gimli paused before racing into it, Gandalf calling after him. When he didn't come back, the others followed. They found him kneeling in front of a stone casket. The room was littered with Dwarf skeletons and destroyed books.

"No," Gimli moaned, kneeling and staring at the casket.

" 'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria'," Gandalf red. Gimli let his forehead rest against the stone casket, moaning. "He is dead, then. It's as I feared."

As Gandalf bent to pick up an ancient book, his wizard's staff and hat in the hands of Pippin, Legolas stepped towards Iliana and Aragorn. "We must move on," he said. "We cannot linger."

Iliana nodded and slowly walked towards one corner of the room, inspecting the skeletons as Gandalf began to read. " 'They have taken the bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gates but cannot fold them for long. The ground shakes, drums…drums in the deep. We cannot get out. A shadow lurks in the dark. We cannot get out…they are coming."

Iliana felt a chill go down her spine at the words, and she looked over to meet the eyes of Boromir. She was certain her saw the same concern reflected in her eyes as she saw in his. He inclined his head, and she felt guilty for her words.

The sudden and echoing crash made everyone jump and hold their breath as Pippin knocked over a bucket and a skeleton. The mess clanged noisily as it fell, the sound ringing all around them. Iliana saw Pippin wince with each clatter.

Finally, once all was quiet again, everyone let out the breath they were holding. Blood pounded in Iliana's ears as she strained to listen for any sound.

Gandalf slammed the book shut. "Fool of a Took!" he growled, snatching away his things. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!"

Iliana felt relief for a split second, smiling softly at Pippin.

Then they heard the drums.

Author's Note:

"No diriel" means "Be watchful"

"Man carel le" means "What are you doing"

"Aniral sogad" means "Do you want a drink"

"Le hannon" means "Thank you"

"Man anirach cerin an le" means "What can I do for you"

Well, it's not Friday or Sunday, so last week's update is a little late, and I apologize. This chapter is short, but I still hope you enjoy it. The next chapter will be uploaded Friday, I promise! Thank you for sticking with me!