The orcs battered against the door, temporarily inconvenienced by the heavy weapons Boromir and Aragorn had used to barricade it. The hobbits huddled together near Gandalf, swords drawn, their fear palpable. Aragorn, Legolas, and Maethoriel had their bows out, arrows notched, waiting for the wood to be broken through so they could take a few of the orcs out before they got into the chamber. Gimli stood atop his relative's sarcophagus, more than eager to fight the creatures that had killed so many of his people. Boromir stood at the ready, preparing for the onslaught of orcs, and the cave-troll he had heard from afar. It was not going to be an easy fight.
Panic and fear coursed through Maethoriel, adrenaline pumping through her veins, while she struggled to regain control of herself. This was no small group of orcs in a wide, open space; this was an army in a small room with no escape. She took deep breaths, working to block out the noise coming from the other side of the door, focusing her gaze down the length of her arrow. She had a mission: to protect Aragorn and Frodo. She needed to stay focused, to not lose herself in her own fears. She was capable of ensuring their survival. She had been sent to Middle Earth for a reason. She was chosen for a reason. Now was the time to show it to herself and anyone watching that it was not all a mistake.
The first hole appeared in the door, and immediately one of Legolas' arrows found its mark. Maethoriel and Aragorn's followed soon after, embedding themselves in the orcs while they screeched in anger and pain. Then the barricade broke, the doors were flung open, and chaos flooded into the room.
Maethoriel let loose another few arrows before returning her bow to her back and unsheathing her dagger and tomahawk. Twirling them in her hands, she assumed a defensive stance and quickly looked over the oncoming army. The orcs sprinted in, each with its own target, running at the fellowship with their weapons raised. Spotting one running at her, Maethoriel blocked its attack with her dagger and brought her tomahawk down into its side. The orc curled over itself in pain, its weapon-arm falling, so she quickly brought her dagger up and stabbed it into the back of its head. As it fell to her feet, another orc ran at her and she leant back to dodge its slash at her neck, quickly lunging forward again to stab its forearm and chop its weapon-hand off at the wrist with her tomahawk. When it bent to pick up its weapon with its other hand, she threw her knee up into its face, causing it to stagger back with its head tilted, and she jumped forward once more to slash its neck with her dagger. A third orc ran past her, and when she turned to see its path leading it to the hobbits, she grabbed a hold of it, spun it around, and buried her dagger in its eye socket.
Suddenly amongst all the screeching and yelling, there was an explosion and a deafening roar. Turning back to the door, she saw that the cave-troll had just made its entrance, looking around the room with animalistic rage contorting its features. Legolas sent an arrow into its shoulder but the troll was not hindered in the slightest, knocking orcs out of the way as it charged towards Sam. Lifting its weapon high above its head, it almost brought it down upon the hobbit, but he threw himself under its legs before it could, emerging behind the foul beast. When it turned to stomp after him, Maethoriel ran for the chain attached to its collar, grabbing a hold of it with Aragorn and Boromir to try and pull the troll back. Unable to stomp on the hobbit, it stumbled back and took a swing at the three of them, before grabbing its chain and whipping it to the side, throwing Boromir into the side wall of the room.
As Aragorn ran to help him, Maethoriel dodged another attack from an orc, twirling around it to put it between her and the troll. She brought her dagger up to block the orc's attack as an axe of Gimli's hit the troll. It bounded forward to attack him and Maethoriel rolled out of the way as the orc was crushed beneath the troll's feet. Gimli dove off of the sarcophagus and Maethoriel went to help him but was hindered once more by another orc. She fought it off, struggling to stay behind the troll's massive body while also maintaining an awareness of the rest of the fellowship. That proved to be too much, as in a moment of distraction, the orc punched her in the chest, sending her to the ground gasping for air. Its weapon sliced down towards her but she managed to hit it away with her tomahawk, rolling in the opposite direction before pushing herself to her feet, just as it came back at her again. She blocked with her dagger, pushing at the weapon until it gave way and fell to the side, before she moved in to bring her tomahawk onto the exposed skin of the orc's neck.
More rocks exploded from above as the troll whipped its chain into the columns on either side of Legolas. Maethoriel could see that he was ducking the attacks easily, his face eager as he formulated a plan, so she turned to see if anyone else needed help. Sam was working down a stairwell with nothing but a frying pan to protect him, so she ran for him, dodging attacks left and right. Just as she reached him, he slammed his pan into an orc's head and it tumbled to the bottom of the stairwell where she stood, so she kneeled to stab it in the back of its skull. "I think I'm getting the hang of this," Sam exclaimed, more to himself than anyone else. She reached forward to pull him off the stairs, blocking an attack from the orc sneaking up behind him. Glancing back to where Merry and Pippin were protecting Frodo, she pushed Sam in that direction, before spinning back to end the orc.
Hearing Aragorn shout Frodo's name, her heart leapt into her mouth when she saw the troll moving to the ring-bearer's location. She started to run, but stopped when she saw an orc running for her, hearing another approaching from behind. The orc in front of her moved to attack but she hit its weapon away with her tomahawk before spinning around, bringing herself to her knees as she ran her dagger across the other orc's stomach. She turned again to block the first orc's downward attack and flipped her tomahawk upside down so that when she punched her arm up as she stood, the curved blade embedded itself in the orc's chest. As she turned one last time to the second orc, flipping her tomahawk again, she hacked down at its neck.
Frodo was shouting Aragorn's name, the troll roaring again and again as the hobbit tried his best to dodge the monster's attacks. Maethoriel could see the ranger almost upon the troll now and wanted desperately to help, but the orcs were doing a good job of keeping the others from reaching Frodo. She blocked and dodged, ducking and spinning, hacking and slashing, blood splattering her skin and clothes as she took down orc after orc. Her blows were fast and heavy, her panic and desperation translating into anger and ferocity as the disgusting creatures continued to block her path. When she finally tore her dagger out of the neck of the last of the orcs focusing on her, she looked up to a sight that had her body frozen in shock.
The troll had stabbed a spear into Frodo's chest. Maethoriel felt like time had slowed, and her limbs took a lifetime to respond to her brain's commands. She watched helplessly as Merry and Pippin threw themselves onto the troll's back, stabbing at it continuously. Sam shouted for his closest friend and ran towards him, terrified and furious. As Frodo fell to the ground, a surge of pure rage ignited Maethoriel's very cells, and she charged forward into the next group of orcs, unleashing her wrath upon them.
Once they were dealt with, she converged on the troll with the rest of the company, lunging in to hack at the beast's legs, and slashing at its arms and hands when it tried to crush her. Finally, Pippin stabbed the troll's neck, hitting a nerve, and the best roared, leaning its head back, allowing Legolas to launch an arrow into the roof of its mouth. The arrow went right through the troll's brain and stuck out of its head, while the beast dumbly stumbled and moaned before it collapsed, throwing Pippin to the ground.
Breathing heavily, with orc blood dripping from her weapons, fingers, and clothes, Maethoriel hurried with Gandalf to where Aragorn crawled towards the fallen hobbit. If he truly was gone, then the battle had been won for nothing. Frodo was unique in that he was able to withstand the power of the Ring for such a lengthy period of time; who knew if any of the others could prove to be as worthy of bearing the burden as he? Maethoriel wondered how in the worlds she would explain herself to father, and whether he would ever want to see her again. Pain like nothing she had experienced before erupted in her chest as she contemplated the loss of such an innocent life.
She had failed.
She had turned her head when Aragorn moved to roll Frodo onto his back, but it snapped back immediately as the sound of Frodo coughing met her ears. He was alive. Frodo was alive! A breathy laugh of pure relief fell out of her, and she braced herself against the wall as her emotions ran rampant.
"He's alive," Sam announced, relieved beyond belief.
Maethoriel sheathed her weapons, taking note of her shaking hands. Wiping them on her clothes absentmindedly, she looked back to the Ring-Bearer. He panted, grabbing at his chest while he looked between Sam and Aragorn. "I'm alright. I'm not hurt," he assured them.
"You should be dead," Aragorn told him, speaking the rest of the company's minds. "That spear would have skewered a wild boar."
"I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye," Gandalf muttered, moving forward with a knowing expression. Frodo looked down, opening up his shirt to reveal a wonderfully shiny piece of clothing underneath.
"Mithril," Gimli breathed in awe. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins."
The moment was short-lived, however, as suddenly more screeching could be heard echoing through the Mines. The clattering of weapons and armour grew closer and closer, the company wondering whether they could endure another battle like that so soon after the last.
"To the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!" Gandalf instructed, opting instead to flee from the orcs.
The Fellowship bolted out of the chamber back into the immense room of intricate columns, their feet pounding against the smooth stone below as they rushed after the wizard, holding his shining staff above his head. An immeasurably large babble of orcs poured out after them, while more sprouted from holes in the floors around them, closing in on all sides. They crawled out of the ceiling like an infestation of bugs and climbed down the columns, eventually appearing far ahead enough of the company that soon they had to stop running and instead gather in a cluster in the middle of the army. Hopelessness threatened to spark in Maethoriel's chest, but she squashed it down, assuring herself that the Fellowship's fate was not to perish in some underground Mines against a rabble of such vile creatures.
Yellow eyes bulged out of misshapen skulls, thin layers of skin stuck to the warped bones, wet and dirty. Mouths opened to let out piercing war-cries, the teeth yellow and sharp and considerably few. The orcs shook their weapons and prodded close to the company's flesh, building up the fear and intimidation before they launched the second attack. Maethoriel had unsheathed her weapons once more, standing in front of Merry and Pippin, determined to protect them at whatever cost.
But then a low, long rumble sounded, and an orange-red glow appeared from an entrance to the room on the other side from the company. The orcs immediately began to shriek in panic and fear, quickly looking around at themselves as they debated fleeing. Maethoriel looked to Legolas at her side, seeing the same confused but grim expression on his face that she was sure was on her own. The orcs were not scared of the cave-troll they had dragged into the chamber; but they were most definitely scared of whatever beast the rumble had emanated from, and that did not mean good news for the Fellowship. As a mass, the orcs turned away and scrambled back up the columns and down the holes, vacating the room in seconds.
Gimli laughed with satisfaction, obviously not having had the same realisation as the Emberling and the Elf. He was soon silenced, however, as the new beast's rumbles continued to echo all around them, and the glow that could only be produced by fire stretched further into the room.
"What is this new devilry?" Boromir whispered from Gandalf's side.
Maethoriel moved back closer to the two hobbits, more fearful for them than ever. Gandalf was quiet as the others looked to his wearied face, seeking comfort when they knew it was less than likely.
"A Balrog," he replied eventually. Maethoriel stared at him wide-eyed, feeling cold to her very core with fear. "A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" he shouted, once again leading the way as the Fellowship fled for their lives.
They reached a wall and were ushered through a doorway, running down more staircases. Boromir pushed to the front, checking behind him constantly to ensure the others were safe and still following after him. When they rounded a corner and came down more steps into another great expanse of the Mines, Legolas had to dash forward and grab Boromir before he fell off the edge of the stairs into the darkness below. They tumbled back, the Hobbits sliding to a stop right behind them. Maethoriel turned to see Gandalf leaning against the doorway, Aragorn watching him worriedly. "Gandalf," he said.
"Lead them on, Aragorn," the wizard told him, holding the man's shoulder as he glanced at Maethoriel. She stared at him, terrified of what he was planning. "The bridge is near."
The Balrog roared now, obviously sensing its prey was trying to flee from it. Aragorn made to run back up the stairs but the wizard pushed him back. "Do as I say!" he shouted. "Swords are no more use here."
Once again they set off sprinting, following the narrow path along the cave walls down another staircase. There were so many to run down, leading them further into the great expanse of nothingness surrounding them, balanced only on such a narrow path of rock rising up from below them. They reached a break in the stairs, a significant gap that they were going to have to leap across. Legolas went first, easily making the jump before he turned and looked encouragingly at the wizard. The Balrog sounded again behind them, this time breaking the walls and sending rocks falling. "Gandalf!" Legolas persisted, waving him on.
When the wizard had safely made it across, an arrow whizzed through the air and bounced off of the rock at the company's feet. Another soon followed, and they pinpointed the location of a group of orcs with their bows trained upon them. Aragorn and Legolas began to fire back as Boromir took a hold of Merry and jumped to the other side. Maethoriel grabbed Pippin and held him close to her, letting his arms wrap around her as she too took the leap, Boromir's arms encircling them to ensure their landing. Untangling herself, she descended a couple of steps and took out her own bow and arrows, firing back at the orcs.
Another chunk of the stairs had broken off after she had jumped, so Aragorn resorted to tossing Sam over to the others, as he would have never made the jump himself. She could hear Gimli ranting about not tossing a dwarf as she continued to fire at their ambushers, watching her arrows soar and embed themselves within the orcs. There was yelling and a scuffle before Gimli appeared at the back of the group with her, a hand holding his chin, his face scrunched up in pain. The emberling stopped when she heard more of the staircase crumble and fall, turning to see only Aragorn and Frodo left, the distance between them too far to jump now.
Fear, panic, and helplessness gripped her heart as she watched the two, hearing the Balrog's roar get louder and closer with each second, the fiery glow continuing to gain on them. More of the wall shattered and fell, one significantly large chunk breaking through the staircase behind Frodo and Aragorn. They struggled to maintain balance as the thin stack of rock tilted back and forth, far too unstable now. Its foundations were cracking and the loose rock was soon going to fall, and the two people Maethoriel had been sent to protect were going to fall with it.
They leant this way and that, trying their best not to slip and fall, until finally they leant forward, encouraging the loose piece of rock to lean forward with them. They accelerated towards the rest of the company until the two stacks collided and they were thrown into the safety of Legolas and Boromir's arms. Immediately the group turned and continued their descent towards the bridge, unable to sacrifice the time to celebrate their survival. The Balrog would pursue them until they managed to escape the Mines, and perhaps for even longer.
Maethoriel ran behind Merry and Pippin, the two hobbits holding onto each other for more stability and comfort. Each step down jarred her body as they fled, her breath pushing out of her lungs heavily and her heart thumping against her ribcage. Her skin was beginning to get sticky and wet with sweat, what few strands of hair loose from her pleat clinging to her face. Despite the immensity of the space in the Mines, she still felt claustrophobic, and was more than eager to finally put that stage of their journey behind her.
They finally came off of the stairs onto an area of flat rock, with a cavern looming threateningly to their right. Gandalf waved them round a corner to the left as the fire and thunderous noise of the Balrog exploded up through the cavern, closer than ever before. "Over the bridge!" the wizard yelled, ensuring the entire company ran past him, following his direction into another room of smaller collumns. "Fly!"
The ground suddenly shook beneath them, causing a few to stumble, and another roar sounded. However, this time, it was so clear and close that they knew before they turned that the Balrog now shared the same space with them. Maethoriel looked past Gimli and Legolas behind her, and past Gandalf where he stood only metres from their monstrous predator. The Balgrog stood half as tall as the room, yet hunched over, with great, black wings spread out behind it. Its face was black, with two horns curving from the side of its head down towards its chin. Its eye sockets and nostrils were nothing but flames, and when it opened its mouth to roar, it looked as though it was an entrance to Hell itself. Flame and smoke engulfed its body, a terrifying and gruesome silhouette, as it bellowed once more and began to chase after them.
The company stopped gaping in terror and continued to flee towards the bridge. It was so close now, just at the end of the room. Maethoriel's peripheral vision dulled until their escape route was all she could focus on, her feet carrying her swiftly beside her companions. The bridge was narrow and surely far too weak to carry such an enormous beast; she began to hope they could actually outrun it and reach the safety of the outside world.
Aragorn, Boromir, and the hobbits showed no hesitation crossing the weak-looking bridge, and Maethoriel did the same, refusing to look below at the great emptiness awaiting any of them if they fell. She could hear Gimli huffing and puffing behind her, his armour clinking with every step as they ran across. Aragorn encouraged them to keep running, losing no momentum as they came to some more stairs leading upwards. The Balrog continued to bellow and roar behind them, and Maethoriel almost smiled with satisfaction at their victory until suddenly the hobbits slid to a halt, following Frodo's panicked gaze back towards the bridge.
The Emberling felt her stomach drop, looking out at Gandalf standing before the Balrog in the middle of the bridge. He looked so small and weak in comparison to the fiery beast, but she had to tell herself that he wouldn't take it on unless he was confident he had a chance to defeat it. The Fellowship was at a safe distance, so close to leaving the Mines, and he was in the way of the Balrog getting to them. It was the perfect opportunity to strike. But she feared for him.
"You cannot pass!" Gandalf shouted at the Balrog.
"Gandalf!" Frodo yelled, his fear painfully evident.
The Balrog drew itself to its full height, the flames that covered its body intensifying threateningly. Gandalf did not falter. "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor," he announced, lifting his staff up in an aggressive manner. The light at the top of the staff brightened as it spread out in a circle around him. "The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn!"
A sword of fire took shape in the Balrog's hand and it brought it down upon the wizard. Maethoriel felt as though she had been punched in the stomach, her breath escaping her quickly. But the light around the wizard acted like a shield and the beast's weapon disintegrated into darkness. It roared angrily at Gandalf, intensifying its fire again. "Go back to the Shadow," Gandalf told it through gritted teeth, his voice echoing in the great chasm despite the noise of the Balrog.
It took a step forward onto the bridge and the rock startlingly held, as a fiery whip emerged from the darkness in the Balrog's hand. The monster swung it about, letting it crack in the air beside it. Gandalf raised his staff and sword above his head, bellowing, "You shall not pass!" Bringing his weapons down together, he slammed the bottom of his staff into the rock below him and a wave of light shot out from it. The Balgrog seemed undeterred and moved forward once more, but the rock under Gandalf's stand split and crumbled, and the terrifying beast fell into the darkness below.
The company was silent, staring wide-eyed at the feat the wizard had achieved. Gandalf panted, exhausted. An all-new level of respect developed for the strength and power he held, despite his elderly appearance. He had bested their most challenging foe as of yet, and he did it alone. Maethoriel was extremely grateful that he had not been seduced by Saruman, and that he was on the Fellowship's side.
Then something truly devastating happened.
Gandalf turned away from his fallen enemy, to rejoin the company. The fiery whip cracked from the depths below and emerged from the darkness one last time, curling itself around Gandalf's ankle. He fell, dropping staff and sword as he was dragged to the edge of the rock. He managed to catch himself and hung there, startled and completely unstable. Maethoriel hadn't noticed Frodo run behind her down the stairs until Boromir grabbed a hold of him, refusing to allow him to go to the wizard.
"Gandalf!" Frodo screamed again, pulling at the arms around him.
The wizard struggled to gain more of a hold on the cracked rock, but could not pull himself up. He looked to Frodo, and said, "Fly, you fools," before he let go of the rock, and fell out of sight.
Maethoriel would be haunted by that moment, with Frodo's anguished screams, for months to come.