This is definitely not my favorite chapter. Oh well.
I was writing a LotR research paper for a class and I kept writing Sauron as Þauron. That is definitely not a sign that I write too much fanfiction XD
TW: brief mention (in a flashback-y way) of Fingon's death
They continued walking and finally broke into a vast, arched hall. Through one doorway came a small stream of light. They ran towards it, but skidded to a stop just inside. Maedhros ducked through and looked around. The room had no way out, the beam of light coming from a crevice in the ceiling. The light shone upon a tomb, inscribed with runes. Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria. Gimli started weeping loudly at the sight. Gandalf walked over to the bodies lying near it, giving his staff to Pippin as he picked up a heavy book, half its cover sheared off.
"They have taken the hall…" Gandalf read. "We cannot get out. They are coming. We cannot get out…" A clatter startled them all, and Peregrin jumped back guiltily as crashes echoed around the room from the well in its center. It went on for minutes before silence again fell.
"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf snatched his staff back angrily. "Throw yourself in next time, and rid us of your stupidity!" The young Hobbit flinched.
"That's enough, Olórin." Curufin snapped. Maedhros stepped beside his younger brother, fixing the Maia with a glare. He could not talk to a child like that. That was wrong.
"Do you not know the danger we are in?" Gandalf demanded, eyebrows bristling.
"That does not excuse your words." Curufin snapped, and pulled Peregrin away. The young Hobbit looked frightened, but not hurt. Curufin murmured something to him and Maedhros stepped closer to Gandalf.
"Do not speak to him like that again." Maedhros threatened quietly. Gandalf looked up at Maedhros and sighed.
"Yes, my words were…harsh. I am sorry, Pippin." Peregrin gave a quick nod.
"I accept your apology." He said, then looked up sharply. Celegorm hissed.
"Something's coming!" Drums sounded, far off in the deep. Screeching began, mostly goblins. Aragorn and Boromir slammed the doors shut, barring them with axes and spears. Maedhros drew his sword, holding it loosely in his hand. Legolas and Aragorn strung a bow, aiming at the door. Blows fell upon the door, chipping away the wood. Arrows felled some of the attackers, but they quickly broke through. The first wave was killed swiftly, but then Celegorm grimaced, wrinkling his nose like he smelled something awful.
"Troll." He snarled. Maedhros settled back.
"Ah, relax, Tyelko." He said. "We can handle a troll. Between the…twelve of us and the Hobbits." Celegorm looked approvingly at Maedhros, then bared his teeth in an honestly terrifying grin.
"Come at us, then!" He shouted. "Is one troll the best you can do?" Curufin snickered, swinging his sword in a loop. The troll lumbered inside, roaring and swinging its club. Maedhros ducked under the first blow.
"Their skin is thick." Celegorm said, loudly enough to be heard over the crashing of Balin's tomb. "Aim for the eyes, the belly, and the mouth. Trying to pierce its back will only damage your sword." He ducked a swing calmly. "And please don't get stepped on. That would be quite hard to deal with." He lashed out with his sword for the first time. His sword left only a thin cut on the troll's abdomen. Maedhros, with his much heavier sword, was able to make a more substantial wound. The troll fled through the mountains, roaring, and the Fellowship rushed from the room. More goblins and orcs crawled across the hall, like cockroaches cowering under a rock. The Fellowship crowded in the light of Gandalf's staff; weapons ready. The creatures dared not come into the light, but they screeched and rattled their weapons, ready to attack. As the company rushed through the hall, a low growl sounded.
"A Balrog." Legolas breathed, face paling.
"Not again." Maedhros groaned, and readied his sword. Maybe, maybe they could fight a small balrog. (They had Gandalf. He could fight one. Right?) But if it was a big one…they would have to flee and hope it didn't catch them.
"Run!" Gandalf shouted, which was probably a much more sensible option than trying to fight even a small balrog. They ran for the bridge, skidding to a stop as the stairs crumbled. Legolas jumped across first, then Gandalf. Boromir hauled the two small Hobbits across, and then Curufin grabbed Samwise. Aragorn followed with Frodo as the stairs crumbled further. The rest of Maedhros' brothers followed, Maedhros leaping over just as the stair fell away.
"What did they have against railings?" Curufin snapped as they started running again, across the narrow stairs that lacked any safety features. The bridge to the exit was in sight now, wide enough for one person to cross at a time.
"It's a defense." Maglor panted. "Against attackers."
"But really unhelpful!" Curufin argued hotly. As they reached the bridge, the Balrog came into view, flames billowing up around it, shadow stretching towards them like black fingers.
"Run!" Gandalf shouted. "This foe is beyond any of you! Fly!"
"Run!" Maedhros echoed, shoving Curufin. "Go, go! Olórin can handle this!"
"Has he ever done it before?" Curufin retorted, looking back. "Nelyo—!"
"Go!" Maedhros didn't really care if Gandalf had done it before. If Fingon had stood against Gothmog alone, then Gandalf could handle one small balrog. He was Maiar; he would be fine. They had to get out. It would kill them. He could smell the smoke—the blood, soaking the ground around Fingon's body, staining Maedhros' knees as he collapsed beside his mangled body...
They ran. Gandalf fell and Frodo screamed, but Maedhros didn't let them stop until they reached daylight. The Hobbits collapsed, panting hard.
"Get them up." Aragorn warned after a few moments.
"Orcs will come." Maedhros agreed. "We need to get to Lothlórien." He glanced back at the door they'd come through, half-expecting to see the orcs already. But the sun was high and bright, too much for the mountain orcs. They got the Hobbits up and headed for Lothlórien at a fast pace. They entered the forest and paused to tend to the Hobbits' injuries. It was a beautiful place, despite the lingering smell of blood in Maedhros' mind. He knew they might not still be safe, but it was…less dangerous. Even for someone like him, someone who would never be allowed to enter in lesser circumstances.
"Will she let us in?" Curufin asked Celegorm, behind Maedhros.
"Yes." Celegorm said, with more confidence than Maedhros felt. "She may be like Fëanor in spirit, but not in mind. She is as wise as she is fair, so Elrond said." They journeyed on more slowly. Frodo and Sam were slightly injured, so they stopped for a moment in the stream of Nimrodel. Legolas brightened.
"You asked for an Elven tale." Legolas said to the Hobbits. "And I have one. The tale of Nimrodel, fair Elf-maiden, and Amroth, a king of Lothlórien. Nimrodel lived near this stream, apart from the other elves for she disliked Sindar and Noldor alike. She met Amroth, king of Lorien, and they fell in love, though he was Sindarin. When the balrog woke in Moria, Nimrodel grew afraid and fled to Fangorn, but she could not enter the forest. Amroth pursued and found her. He promised her safety if she would sail to Valinor with him. They travelled towards Edhellond, but were separated in the White Mountains. Amroth reached the port first and waited for Nimrodel on the ship. A storm struck and drew the ship out. Amroth leapt overboard and was drowned. Nimrodel came later to Edhellond, but learning of Amroth's death, fled in heartbreak. Where now she wanders none can tell, /In sunlight or in shade; /For lost of yore was Nimrodel /And in the mountains strayed." He sang the verse softly, his melody twining with the voice of the stream, as he told of their love and deaths. After a moment of quiet, they crossed the stream.
"There's someone up ahead." Celegorm said softly as they continued on. "An Elf, of Finrod's folk, I would guess. He wears grey, and the symbol of Lórien is upon him. Shall I hail him?"
"No." Maedhros said. "Let them watch and come when they will."