Yes, your eyes did not deceive you. It is actually a chapter. I'm sorry for the incredibly long wait. I lost track of time and adulthood kept me busy. However, I accidently stumbled on one of your old reviews today….and felt bad for not completing the story…..

After a lengthy struggle in remembering my password…I managed to log into my FF account and provide you with a new chapter.

It might be a bit confusing, but it all will eventually clear up.

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The hall was dark and the void of blackness engulfed the little circle of light in which the fellowship sat. Gandalf's staff flickered and wavered like a torch would, creating the illusion of a fire with long dancing shadows against the wall. Boromir sat against one of the colossal pillars that supported the mountain roof with Aragorn next to him. He was busy shaping the little horse sculpture and tried to listen to Gandalf's tale about the wealth of Moria, but no matter how hard he tried, his attention was constantly drawn to the two figures sitting at the end of the circle; removed from the rest of the company.

Sierra and Legolas was sitting intimately next to each other, holding hands. They were conversing softly; whispering things secretly to each other. Legolas would occasionally lift his free hand and run it up and down Sierra's arm, almost in a comforting gesture.

Boromir grimaced.

Disgusted he turned back to the figure in his hand and worked the knife against the rear of the horse. The blade was getting blunt and Boromir had to press hard in order to peel away the desired wood. After a couple of frustrating attempts, Boromir discarded the two objects to his side with an aggravated huff and shook his head. He stole another glance at the elf and the girl.

"I sense that it is not the absence of your carpentering skills that's got you in such an unfavourable mood" the ranger next to him observed. Aragorn was busy smoking his pipe and watched with interest as his companion frequently looked up to Lady Sierra and Legolas. The sight of them together somehow made the man of Gondor upset.

"Aye" was his simple reply. He lifted his hand and scratched the stubble on his chin. He would have to shave again, he thought miserably. He hated the job of shaving, not because of the labour, but because it reminded him of how his sister used to do it. How his sister's smile looked and how happy she was back then. But she turned into a shadow. A ghost of the woman she was before. When Boromir looked at Sierra and Legolas sitting so closely, his anger for the elf who ruined his sister returned.

He hoped Sierra had more sense than to fall in love with an elf. He had nothing against Legolas, he was a good warrior and decent leader, but he, however, had a problem with a human and an elf being together. The mortal and immortal should not mix. He has seen the devastation it caused. His sister would never be the same again. And the boy, the boy would grow up without a father.

Boromir scratched his beard again. He remember how his sister used to help him shave. 'Brother, a man of the Court cannot wander around looking like a scoundrel!' she used to scold him. 'Come let me shave you, otherwise it will never be done. You are worse than Faramir!' His sister would give him a clean shave, but always left a small nick in the end. 'Just a little blood for the trouble you put me through' she would say and wink. A feisty woman she used to be.

Before Aragorn could remark on Boromir's curt comment, the short lived conversation died and the man of Gondor got up and went to sit next to Sam, effectively placing the secretive two behind him.

Aragorn turned back to the elf who was nodding encouragingly to something Lady Sierra was saying. He was pleased to see that Sierra was heeding his words on giving Legolas a chance. Lady Sierra was a rather fascinating being. She seemed to be driven to a very important cause no matter of the dangers they would hold.

Aragorn smiled at the two, however as he was busy studying his friend's face the feeling of dread slowly crept up his spine and the sensation of loss tingled on his skin. Legolas's eyes reflected something familiar, something he has seen before. Something he has seen in the eyes of the woman he loved. It was the glint of a shift forming in an elf's mind when the interest in a human became more than just the mortal being a fascinating object.

Arwen's interest became passionate, evolved into infatuation, then love and in the end she has offered to give up her immortality for him. His heart was overjoyed, but dejected at the same time.

Overjoyed to spend his life with her, but dejected that Arwen would one day succumb to grief after his death and Arda would lose the Even Star forever.

However, Elrond denied his daughter's request for mortality and demanded Undomiel to travel to the Grey Havens where she would join her folk in the undying lands. Unable to defy her father's command, Arwen reluctantly obeyed.

The image of Arwen on the bridge floated to Aragorn's mind. It was the last moment they had together. He would always cherish the memory. Her words of love and the feel of her skin. The ranger wondered what his love was doing. Was she still in Rivendel or was she already on her way to the Grey Havens?

"What?!" Gimli suddenly cried and Aragorn looked up to where the dwarf was sitting, concerned that something was amiss. "A corselet of Moria-silver? That was a kingly gift!" the dwarf continued, his voice filled with awe.

"Yes, I never told Bilbo that its value is greater than the whole Shire and everything in it" Gandalf said.

Aragon relaxed when he realised there was no danger – only a disgruntled dwarf and enthralled hobbits.

However, shortly after Gimli's outburst another commotion disrupted the quiet hall of the mine. Legolas quite unexpectedly flew to his feet in one fluid motion. Startled the ranger did the same and placed one of his hands on the hilt of his sword. He turned about and listened to what the elf could have heard, but when he looked back towards Legolas he was glaring down at the girl; his hands balled in fist at his side. Lady Sierra was quivering at his intense gaze and wrapped her arms tightly about herself. Unsure of what was transpiring; Aragorn rushed to her side, for the look on the elf's face was quite murderous.

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A deep silence fell. One by one the others fell to sleep except for three. Frodo was on first watch. His mind was given to listening, but the stifling stillness of the mine was suffocating him. Occasionally he would turn around and check if the others were still there. The quietness was too intense. He stared into the darkness where he guessed the West Arch was and saw two little glowing orbs peering at him. He shut is eyes and re-opened them to find that the eyes have disappeared. "I must have nearly fallen asleep on guard" he thought. Frodo stretched and rubbed his eyes to relieve some of the drowsiness. He noticed that Legolas was sitting a few feet away from him with his back to the light. The elf was staring into darkness, still as a sentinel made of stone and Frodo wondered how long he has been sitting like that. The lean elf's body was hunched over, resting his arms on his lap. His face was hidden by a curtain of flaxen hair that hung loosely over his shoulders. Frodo turned to where Sierra was laying on the opposite side to where the elf was sitting. She had her back turned to the wall and a sheep blanket wrapped tightly around her body. Her eyes would occasionally drift close and start open again; almost like she was willing herself not to sleep. Frodo, like the rest of the company, knew that something disagreeable transpired between the two, but what it was remained a mystery.

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Sierra sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Good morning" Gandalf greeted "For it is morning again at last. I was right, you see" The old man pointed to the small slits carved into the mountainside. Sierra then noticed that the pale light was not emitting from the staff, but that it was actual ashen morning sunlight filtering through the small openings. She must have fallen asleep after all since she never saw the light of day approach. Sierra was comforted that she was able to find some rest and that the plague of nightmares did not visit her again, which she was sure would happen after the incident with Legolas.

"We are high up on the East side of Moria. Before today is over we ought to see the Great Gates and the water of Mirromere laying in the Dirill Dale before us". Sierra had no idea of the place he was talking about, but just the thought of leaving the mine felt comforting enough. Gandalf, Gimli and Boromir conversed with each other on what road to take since Gandalf was still unsure of where exactly he was, while the other were busy packing up.

Sierra rolled up her bed and walked over to where Sam was busy unwrapping pieces of bread. The meals were becoming more meagre and unappetising. "We will either be swallowed by the blackness of this mine or choke on these dry breads posing as breakfast" Pippin complained and crumbled a piece of bread between two fingers. Sam huffed and glared him.

"You don't have to eat it" Sierra said and picked up a piece as well. She took a bite and felt how the dryness of the dough sucked up the saliva in her mouth. She gave a small cough and reached for the water bottle at her side. She took a couple of mouthfuls and secured the cap again. Pippin and Merry was staring at her.

"I'm not dead, am I?" she grumbled "Be thankful and eat it... or go hungry".

Everybody ate some of the bread except for Legolas. He was busy walking around the large hall, kicking up dust as he went. A cloud was beginning to follow him as he kept on striking out and dragging his feet all over the chamber. Sierra guessed the storm that was following him, was a reflection of the hurricane tearing through his mind. She had no idea why he reacted in such a horrible way. She was busy re-counting her dreadful memories of her capture in Mirkwood when he suddenly flew to his feet and levelled her with a look that could rival that of the Woodland King. She gave an involuntary shiver and took a large bite from her bread again.

* Flash Back *

"Sierra, Darling"

Sierra looked up to her friend. She was busy removing her satchel from her horse. Julien said it was not safe for the horses to travel through the forest for they risked the possibility of getting spooked and run off; probably injuring themselves.

Julien walked over to her and wrapped a strong hand over the strap of her bag. "Here, let me carry that for you" he said sweetly, but somehow it did not quite reach his eyes. Thinking back, Sierra wondered how she could have missed it the first time.

"No, Silly. I'm a capable woman, you know that" she laughed and swatted away his hand. The air was quite cool where they were standing, but as Sierra gazed upon the forest path in front of them, a sudden suffocating heat engulfed her.

The forest was twisted and the trees turned into horrible, bitter, dark statues that blocked out the sun. An odour of mould and dampness drifted towards them. Sierra wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Why do we have to go in here again?" she asked and turned to Julien who was busy walking towards a natural arch that served as an entry point into the woods. His strides were purposeful and did not contain a falter of fear. "To find the Star Tree" he called back over his shoulder "Come, we have to hurry".

Sierra shouldered her back and followed her friend. "Don't you think that the story about the Star Tree is a little farfetched? I mean, a tree that grows diamonds?" she scoffed in disbelief. About a week ago Julian came to the village, claiming stories heard from the folk, that there was a tree in the woods that sprouted diamonds. It was called the Star Fruit. Eagerly Julian wanted to check it out and insisted that Sierra tagged along.

"It's not actual diamonds. Only fruit that looks like diamonds. Come, you walk too slowly" he snapped impatiently and increased his pace.

The trek through the woodlands was mostly uneventful. There were some wrong turns, a couple of missteps and a shadow of something moving quickly overhead, but other than that and the depressing feel of the trees, the walk was quite unexciting.

When the few rays of sunlight dimmed, indicating that night time was approaching, Julien decided to make camp underneath a big, old, rotting tree. Its shaft loomed up into the air and branched many deformed limbs that disappeared into the darkness. The tree stood in a small clearing, like a beacon of some sort. Sierra felt exposed setting up camp there, but when she voiced her feelings to Julien he talked them down saying it was typical of a woman to be so fearful of something so stupid.

As Sierra laid down and pulled her blanket over her, she could not shake the feeling of being watched. Frequently she peered into the darkness above, certain she saw a figure quickly moving through the branches.

It was only later that she discovered that she was right.

* End of Flash Back *

"What has gotten you so deep in thought?"

Sierra jumped at the closeness of the voice. She never noticed that Boromir came to sit next to her. Like the rest of the company, he was busy chewing on his stale bread. He looked tired. His eyes did not sparkle like it usually did, but seemed weary with worry and fatigue. His stubble and matted hair made him look ragged and worn, but the small, shy smile he gave her was pure Boromir.

"Oh, I did not see you there" Sierra admitted. Boromir wave his hand in a dismissive way, showing that it mattered little. He shifted closer and bent his head towards her.

"I was wondering if I could have a moment to talk to you?" he said and added "alone."

Curious, Sierra nodded and indicated to a spot away from the company. Boromir moved, satisfied that the location was far away enough from elf ears.

"So what do you want to talk about?" Sierra asked as they reached the desired location. They had a good relationship with each other and she would actually call him a friend, so Sierra did not feel uncomfortable being alone with the warrior.

"I actually want to tell you a story. About my sister" Boromir stated and went to sit down on the cold floor. Sierra followed his example "Mayhap you could find some words of wisdom in there."

Sierra frowned, but said nothing.

"My sister, she was a lovely lass. Vibrant and spirited. Everyone adored her. Many a man pledged for her. One day after I returned from an errand, my sister announced that she was in love. However, it was not with a man, but an elf. A travelling merchant." He said with bitterness. "My brother, father and I were doubtful, but in the end we gave permission for them to marry.

In the third year of their marriage my sister was with child, and in that same year her husband left to go on one of his travelling endeavours. However, the elf never returned. She waited for months, standing on the terrace overlooking the city gate, but no sign of him ever came. After half a year, a letter arrived. It was a letter of abandonment. The elf has left for the Grey Havens, for the call of the sea was too great and he could not remain any longer." Boromir closed his eyes and when he reopened them, Sierra could see the reflection of pain shimmering in there.

"He left my sister for the sea. For the Sea! Speciously, it is something a human mind can't process and only an elf would understand the effects of it, but how could someone leave his love and child behind? He was immortal. He had plenty of time to go after we were all dead." His tone was harsh and bitter.

"Elves are selfish" he warned "And matters of the heart should rather exclude them. My sister is a shell of the woman se used to be. She only holds love for her son….nothing more"

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While Sierra and Borromir were engaged, Aragorn decided to try and offer council to his friend. He could not risk travelling with companions through a perilous mine when there were potential animosity between them. As the ranger approached the elf, he covered his nose and mouth with one of his hands to shield himself from the disturbed dust.

"Mellon" he called, but the pacing did not stop so he tried again "Mellon, ceno!" (Friend, stop)

The elf halted in his tracks and turned towards Aragorn. Confusion and anger rippled in his stormy eyes. "Mellon, tell me, what plagues your mind?"

Legolas levelled him with hatful look "I have found the naqar, the murderer" he snarled. (thief)

Aragorn did not expect his announcement. He was familiar with the thief and murderer he referred to. The elves in Mirkwood call her the Faiermure, the ghost. A woman, believed to be a sorcerer, stole the jewels of the departed Queen. Her circlet of mithril and a string of white gold. A treasure valued dearly by the king and the prince. However, the thief was captured as she fled the woodland by a group of patrol guards. She was taken to the King. But Thranduil made a vow to his son, that should the thief ever be found, Legolas would conduct the trial and deliver the sentence. The thief was locked in the dungeon until the prince returned from patrol. When dawn arrived, Prince Legolas returned and went to fetch the thief for trial. However, when he reached the cell, the door stood ajar and in its entry way was a slain elf.

A guard. A friend.

The woman was nowhere to be seen. For over sixty years Legolas tried to hunt her down, but she vanished and left no trace or mark on Middle Earth.

"U-chenion" Aragron frowned "How, where did you find the thief?" (I do not understand)

Legolas did not answer, but glared passed Aragorn. The ranger turned to look behind him and his eyes rested upon Sierra listening to Boromir. Shocked he faced the elf again "Surly you cannot mean Lady Sierra?"

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After breakfast Gandalf decided to go again at once. "Let us go towards that light coming from the North Door" he decided. The company followed his lead and soon they found themselves in a wide corridor. As they went along the passage the glimmer of light became stronger until they reached a large stone door, halfway open from which the brightness poured from. The door was still on its hinges, but battered up and disintegrating at the edges. The company, unaccustomed to the sudden bright light blinked as they entered the small grey chamber. A shaft was carved in the higher part of the Eastern Wall and through in came a bright beam, cutting through the dimness, and rested upon a single, white, oblong block. While the rest of the company's eyes were drawn the tomb looking table, Sierra's eyes were casted upwards to the patch of blue sky framed by the ancient walls. It was both comforting and disturbing to see. Comforting, because it was a confirmation that there was still a world outside this place. Disturbing, because she was not in it.

Sierra entered the chamber further and noticed that her feet disturbed a deep dust upon the floor. Pippin grumbled underneath his breath when he stumbled over unknown shapes beneath the dust and decided to rather follow in the footsteps of Merry.

Gandalf and Frodo looked down to read the engravings on the oblong block.

"These are Daeron's Runes, such as were used of old in Moria" Gandalf said and examined them closer "Here is written in the tongues of Men and Dwarves: Balin son of Fundin. Lord of Moria"

"He is dead then" Frodo stated. "I feared it was so".

Gimli wept silently next to the tomb, while the others were rummaging through the debris scattered through the small room. Sierra, tried from her lack of sleep went to sit on a fallen block from a pillar and wearily scanned the room. There were many recesses cut in the rock of the walls, and in them were large iron-bound chests of wood. All of them were plundered and their left over contents were scattered on the ground among many bones, broken swords and fallen axe-heads. The sight laid heavy on the companies' hearts.

"It seems to be a record of the fortunes of Balin's folk" Gandalf announced and Sierra looked towards him. He was holding a fragile old book. Its stained pages broke at the edges and crumbled to the floor.

"I guess that it began with their coming to Dimrill Dale nigh on thirty years ago: the pages seem to have numbers referring to the years after their arrival. The top page is marked one – three, so at least two are missing from the beginning. Listen to this!"

Sierra and the others listened to Gandalf as he read a couple of pages recounting the recapture of Moria from the Orcs and Goblins. How the mine reigned under the control of Balin and of gold and mithril that was mined.

"Well, that's far as I can make out. The book is quite burned and a couple of pages are missing. Wait, here is a bold elvish scripture!" Gandalf continued.

"That must be Ori's hand" Gimli interjected "he was quite swift with the elvish characters"

"It is grim reading" Gandalf continued "I fear their end was cruel. Listen! 'We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the Bridge and second hall. Frár and Lóni and Náli fell there'. Then there are four lines smeared so that I can only read: 'went 5 days ago.' The last lines reads: 'The Watcher in the Water took Óin. We cannot get out. The end comes. Drums, drums in the deep. Drums echoing. They are coming."

Gandalf closed the book. "There is nothing more".

An ominous silence filled the room and Sierra shivered from the dread creeping up her spine. "We cannot get out" she muttered. The whispered words hardly left her lips when a soft rhythmic drumming vibrated through the stone floor.

Then silence.

"Did you hear that?" Merry asked and looked to Frodo for confirmation.

However, Frodo had no need to answer for a shattering noise boomed from far below and shook the ground they were standing on. Alarmed Sierra jumped to her feet, her eyes wide with fear.

"They are coming" Legolas said and turned towards the door through which they entered.

"We cannot get out" Gimli wailed in dismay.

A horn blasted from the Great Hall and many feet could be heard slapping against the hard stone as they ran towards the company.

"Shut the door and wedge it! But keep the Eastern Door open. We will try and escape through there" Aragorn instructed and rushed to the large doors with Legolas on his heels. The two, along with Boromir, used broken swords and spears to barricade the door.

When they were done, they joined the Company who has retreated to the other side of the chamber. But they had no chance to escape. There was a blow on the door that made it quiver; and then it began to grind slowly open, driving back the wedges. A huge arm and shoulder, with a dark skin of greenish scales, was thrust through the widening gap. Then a great, flat, toeless foot was forced through below.

The foot pulled back and was then suddenly followed by crashes of falling hammers against the door creating a wide opening in the wood. Arrows came whistling in, but struck the northern wall, and fell
harmlessly to the floor. There was another horn-blast and a rush of feet, and orcs one after another leaped into the chamber.

Sierra watched in horror has the fowl creatures poured into the room. The stories about their gruesome faces and hideous figures did not do them justice. They were revolting. Aragorn, a true fighter, quickly felled an orc rushing towards them. Legolas pierced two goblins through the throat with one arrow and Gimli chopped three with his axe while standing on Balin's tomb.

Boromir remained close to Sierra and the hobbits and instructed them to move whenever he thought they were in harm's way.

"Now is the time!" Gandalf cried. "Let us go!" But before Pippin and Merry had reached the stair of the Eastern Door that leads outside the chamber, a huge orc-chieftain, clad in black mail from head to foot, leaped into the room. His broad flat face was swart, his eyes were like coals, and his tongue was red. The orc wielded a great spear and with a thrust of his huge hide shield he turned Boromir's
sword and bore him backwards, throwing him to the ground. Sierra gave a piercing shriek at the sudden appearance of the beast, but Aragorn was quickly to the scene and raised his sword to defend the girl. But the orc-chief was fast and dived under Aragorn's blow with the speed of a striking snake and charged past Sierra into the group of hobbits. His spear hit a mark and was thrusted straight into Frodo's side, pinning him against the stone wall.

Sam rushed between Frodo's limp body and the orc and hacked at the spear-shaft until it broke, dropping the ring bearer to the ground. The orc discarded the useless piece of wood in his hand and swept out his scimitar to deal a death blow to either of the hobbits. But before the orc could deal his knock, Aragon's sword, Andúril, came down upon his helm and the orc fell with a cloven head to the floor.

By some miracle Frodo was still alive and the company took that as their sign to flee the place as quickly as possible. The rest happened all in a blur. Sierra could not clearly remember how they got out of the chamber or how they made it down the flight of stairs. Somehow the company made it across the Eastern Hall without being struck down. As they rushed forward, the sounds of the beating drums became fainter and the steps of pursuit further and further behind.

At the end of an hour, the company travelled just over a mile with no chase from their enemies. Sierras lungs burned and felt like it was going to explode. What was worse, the passage was getting hotter and hotter as they moved forward. A glow at the end of the passage started to form and Sierra thought it was the opening of the gate that led outside.

But her relief was short lived. The last hall was black with chocking smoke and a river of flame flowed beneath the bridge they had to cross. Occasionally flames would lick upwards and scorch the bridge floor. Sierra swallowed hard at the sight. Her arm started to itch in memory from Smaug.

"Lead the way, Gimli!" Gandalf cried. "Pippin and Merry next. Straight on and up
the stair beyond the door!"

Arrows fell among them. Sierra looked behind her and saw swarming black figures. The orcs all brandished spears and scimitars which shone blood red in the firelight. Legolas appeared next to her and turned to set an arrow to the string. He drew, but his hand fell, and the arrow slipped to the ground. He gave a cry of dismay and fear. Sierra watch his stricken face and decided that she did not wish to see what the elf was gazing upon. She has never seen Legolas afraid and she was sure whatever he was looking at, she might suffer a heart attack should she see it.

"Ai! ai!" Legolas wailed "A Balrog! A Balrg of Morgorth!"
Gimli stared with wide eyes. "Durin's Bane!" he cried, and dropped his axe to cover his face.

"Over the bridge!" Gandalf shouted "Fly! This is a foe beyond any of you".

The company rushed over the bridge and halted just within the doorway at the hall's end, and turned, unable to leave their leader to face the enemy alone.

The Balrog reached the bridge.

Gandalf stood in the middle of the length, leaning on the staff in his left hand, but in his other hand Glamdring gleamed, cold and white. His enemy halted again, facing him, and the shadow about it reached out like two vast wings. It raised the whip, and the thongs whined and cracked. Fire came from its nostrils. But Gandalf stood firm.

"You cannot pass" he said.

The Balrog made no answer. The fire in it seemed to die, but the darkness grew. It stepped forward slowly on to the bridge, and suddenly it drew itself up to a great height, and its wings were spread from wall to wall; but still Gandalf could be seen, glimmering in the gloom.

"You cannot pass!" Gandalf said again.

The Balrog leaped full upon the bridge, its whip whirled and hissed.

"He cannot stand alone!" Aragorn cried and suddenly ran back along the bridge "I am with you, Gandalf!"

At that moment Gandalf lifted his staff, cried aloud and smoted the bridge before him. The staff broke asunder and fell from his hand. A blinding sheet of white flame sprang up. The bridge cracked. Right at the Balrog's feet it broke, and the stone upon which it stood crashed into the gulf, while the rest remained, poised, quivering like a tongue of rock thrust out into emptiness.

With a terrible cry the Balrog fell forward, and its shadow plunged down and vanished. But even as it fell it swung its whip, and the thongs lashed and curled about the wizard's knees, dragging him to the brink. He staggered and fell, grasped vainly at the stone, and slid into the abyss.

"Fly, you fools!" he cried, and was gone.

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Ok, so there we go. The last part was almost quoted directly from the book and I apologise for that. I just did not feel to rewrite a section that did not play a big role in my plot, but which still needed to happen.

Ok, so it has been a while since I've written something and my writing skills are absolutely crappy. So there were a couple of people who volunteered to be a beta last time. If you are still interested, please send me a PM. I would like to finish this story

If you still like it, please review. And once again I'm sorry for such a long wait.

Love Andrea