A/N: I loved writing Moria so much. Some inspiration goes to Lord of the Rings Online, one of my favorite games over the last decade.
Chapter Seventeen - Maedeth
Maedeth felt Elladan stand behind her as the West-gate opened between the holly trees. For a moment all anxiety left her. A blissful thrill filled her chest until all she could do was smile. Descending the cavern steps came a host of dwarves in black and gold armor, faces shielded by great helms and wielding axes as sharp as any elven blade. Four flanked them to either side.
The ninth dwarf bore no helm. His braided red hair had beads of onyx and pearl throughout and his beard tucked into a black belt around his rotund waist. Instead of a single-bladed axe he held a double-bladed great axe that seemed almost like a halberd.
Maedeth released a deep breath. She took a step forward and bowed low. "Lady Maedeth of Arthedain, at your service. And this is Elladan," she said as he did the same, "of Rivendell."
"At your service as well," he said.
"Foli, son of Moghi, at yours and your families'."
Foli looked them up and down, allowing silence to stretch between them even as the last light of day fell away. Then he turned to look at their horses. "You spoke many flowery words, elf, if that is what you are." He turned back to them. "But they piqued my interest. Our doors have been sealed for centuries uncounting, and yet you invoked great names and a password long thought forgotten by other races."
Maedeth nodded. "We would not disturb your great kingdom if we did not have deep need," she said. "Please, we seek but an audience with your king. May we enter?"
"You may." Foli stood aside for a moment. "But your horses may not. They will not climb the stairs, for they are too steep for such beasts. Leave them here in the meadow before the Walls."
Elladan frowned. "Can you ensure their safety? They are dear to us and we will need them for our return journey, whenever that may be."
"Do you think us so callous, master elf, as to force you to abandon your steeds to death in the night?" Foli scoffed. "And you think yourselves wise. Nay, while dwarves still draw breath within these halls, evil does not dare enter this hollow for the power of dwarven spells."
Maedeth turned to Elladan and nodded. They removed their packs from the horses and shoulder them on their own backs. Elladan spoke words of comfort and blessing to them before turning them lose, leaving their harnesses and saddles upon the grass.
"Lead the way, Master Foli," Maedeth said.
The dwarves formed ranks, two pair behind Foli before them, and two pair behind them at the rear. Even as they entered the mountain, Maedeth heard the tinkling of music far away from them. Were there instruments, or simply the beautiful drumming of hammers on anvils?
Darkness surrounded them as the Doors clicked shut. Maedeth couldn't breathe. She felt her heart pounding as she grasped for Elladan's hand in the darkness beside her. She found it instantly. Her foot paused on the next step.
Then the darkness fled. Soft, pale blue light filled the hall around them. The floors were of smooth stone, without crack or blemish, and stretched from left to right at least a hundred feet. Maedeth saw, at the top step beside Elladan, couldn't find her voice. Great holly trees towered up to meet the ceiling above them, made of crafted stone and red rubies. They formed the pillars that kept the ceiling aloft, from whence the crystal lamps now lighting their path were hung.
A hundred paces ahead of them sat the foot of another, much grander stair. Thirty dwarves in full armor could have marched up abreast without issue. And indeed, most dwarves she could see were soldiers clothed in various amounts of armor. She estimated fifty more here beyond Foli and his men. There were tables, benches, and a couple of cots made of wood and cloth around the open hall. All of them stared.
"Up the stairs, to Durin's Way," Foli said, "is our path. Then on towards the Twenty-First Hall."
Maedeth nodded. "Thank you for your assistance, Master Foli."
"I am assisting my King, not you."
With a small breath, Maedeth tried not to let the dwarf's sharp tongue bother her. She fell back into step with Elladan and focused on taking in the brilliance of Khazad-dûm. Upon the stairs, everything was intricately carved and maintained like any building on the surface whether of elven or mannish design. But as they finally crested the two hundred steps, they entered an area that felt more alive, more natural, and much, much busier.
She could hear the tinkling of hammers much more clearly as they entered what seemed to be an active mining operation. They heard gruff voices speaking in Khuzdul far below along with hammers and chains and flowing water. Untapped ore veins of gold and precious gems lined their walk. Whether the dwarves had left these intact due to how beautiful it made the walk or because the materials were unwanted, she did not know. Nevertheless, it took her breath away.
This first part of their march remained the most treacherous. The dwarves did not slow their pace, and Maedeth had no desire to beg it of them, so they did not rest of what had to have been nearly a day. They passed many arches and paths going in different directions both up and down and to either side. Whenever they passed dwarves with carts of precious materials they were told to move aside, to stand against the walls. Maedeth did so gladly.
At last they came out of the mines. The transition passed slowly. At first Maedeth noted that the ground was finer; instead of hard rock that could withstand the pass of massive, stone-laden carts, they came to marble floors polished smooth. Then the walls expanded. Maedeth saw great statues of dwarven soldiers on pedestals guarding the thoroughfare they now walked.
"This is Durin's Way. We shall reach the Twenty-First Hall and from there, we will see the King," Foli said.
From that point, the architecture only grew in grandness by the hour. Lamps of gold, pink, and blue sparkled from the ceiling, or splashed their hues from polished mirrors up into the towering heights above. Maedeth and Elladan did not speak. It didn't feel right. This place belonged to the dwarves, and to speak without being spoken to seemed impolite.
Ordered chaos met them at the great arch into the Twenty-First Hall. Shining daylight from beyond the mountain lit the whole chamber. Maedeth had not imagined such an open space could exist underground. She could barely see the other end of the hall filled with tree-like columns. But here it was, filled with dwarves at merchant stalls hawking their wares and haggling over prices.
She understood none of it. The dwarves kept Khuzdul close to their hearts. She doubted she would ever learn it, though she had to admit to do so would be thrilling. As she stared at the bustling life beneath the Misty Mountains she forgot, for a moment, about the war outside.
"Come, elves. King Durin awaits."
They exited the Twenty-First Hall by a different exit. Again, the architecture changed. Maedeth understood now, that with each change in the design they entered into older and older parts of Khazad-dûm. Down they went, stepping on polished floors that reflected the pale golden lamps all around them.
The sound of crashing water filled their ears. It wasn't long until they entered into a hall towering hundreds of feet above them. And yet they could only walk three abreast. Six massive waterfalls fell from ceiling to floor and down below, to where, she couldn't begin to guess. The spray cooled her in the ever-warming caverns. Maedeth smiled, closing her eyes.
No words could be spoken in the Hall of Falling Water. Elladan stood beside her, with Foli just in front. Their eight guards trailed behind in pairs. At the far end of the hall stood a small doorway.
Maedeth lost her breath beyond it. Crystal and onyx floors glowed in the light of white lamps. They stood on a black path that led forward past rows and rows of dwarven soldiers until at the end, up many steps, sat a mithril and ebony throne. The sparkle nearly blinded her. But her eyes adjusted and she saw more clearly the figure on the throne.
King Durin VI, Lord of Khazad-dûm, lounged back, crowned and armored. His grey beard fell in intricate braids nearly to his feet. At the foot of the black steps stood another dwarf, younger with red hair and a smaller circlet. He crossed his arms and watched them carefully. Two dwarven sentinels stood to either side with long great axes.
Maedeth stepped beyond the last pair of guards. She lowered her eyes, curtsying deep. She heard Elladan bow as well.
"King Durin, Lord of Khazad-dûm. It is a great honor to speak with you. I am Lady Maedeth of Arthedain."
"Tell me, Lady Maedeth of Arthedain, why you sought me without invitation after it has been so long without friendship between our folk."
She frowned, nodding. "Too long has it been since Arthedain-"
The king laughed. She couldn't tell if it was mirth or scorn in his voice. But he too shook his head. "Nay, Lady Maedeth, I do not speak of Arthedain. We have never sought the friendship of the Men of the North. You are allowed here before me because of your elven half. You are a half elf of the House of Fëanor, are you not?" He pointed to the dagger at her side. "Or so my guards informed me you claimed at the West-gate."
"Indeed, I am. Though I do not often seek the claim of birthright," she said. "My twin brother is Rinior, the Hero of the North, and it is he who exemplifies that line best."
King Durin nodded. "And yet you used it here, because it was convenient?"
"Nay, because it is necessary." Maedeth spoke clearer, refusing to shy from the king's hard questioning. "I am both of the House of Fëanor and the emissary of Arthedain. I am here with my protector, Lord Elladan of Rivendell, son of Lord Elrond, to beg you for aid."
"Beg?" asked the king.
"Yes. I do not exaggerate our need, King Durin." Maedeth took a step forward, causing the sentinels to lower their axes in front of the red-haired dwarf and the steps. "We are beset by evils on many sides. The Witch-king of Angmar has his eyes on our lands, our people. And we cannot stand alone."
The dwarf at the foot of the stairs spoke. "You are alone? None are there to help you?"
"This is Náin, Prince of Khazad-dûm," said the King. "He asks a good question. Only the dwarves can help you then?"
Maedeth paused. She bit her lip. "We are asking many, my lords. Aranarth, Prince of Arthedain, rides to the Grey Havens. Elrond, lord of Rivendell, pledges what meager aid he can spare. But it is not enough."
"Greedy, aren't we?" said King Durin. He played with a ring on his finger, twirling it around again and again and again. "Dwarves have fought for the causes of elves many times throughout the ages of Arda."
"Indeed! There have been many alliances," Maedeth agreed. She knew she came dangerously close to cutting off the king, but she had to seize the moment. "Dwarves fought beside High King Fingon. They fought beside Finrod. They fought beside all the Princes of the Noldor against the dragons of old."
"And many dwarves have fallen for elven causes," he snapped. King Durin pointed to the soldiers all around them in the throne room. "They died by the thousands in your War of the Jewels. They died by the hundreds trying to aid Celebrimbor of Eregion. For this, we had to shut our gates or be destroyed by Sauron the Deceiver." He scoffed. "And now you beg for more dwarven lives. We do not live as long as elves, but neither do we die as soon as men. I will not send more of my folk to their dooms."
"My King, please."
"Nay, we will not go. We have our own duties. We must increase the mines, we must dig ever deeper," King Durin said. "We have greatness here in these halls of our fathers, built before the Noldor fled back to these shores. We will not share it freely."
"What of trades?" Náin asked. He looked from the crestfallen face of Maedeth up to his father. "Perhaps we have weapons to sell?"
Durin laughed. "Like you could afford it. I have heard how far Arthedain has fallen, a small remnant of the greatness of Arnor before it."
Maedeth held her breath to keep tears from falling. She had to succeed. They had to find aid. Any aid would help. But they could not afford this dwarf king's price. She knew it, just as he did.
"No. Arthedain cannot afford our aid," King Durin said. He lounged back again, as if tiring of the conversation. "Lady Maedeth, it is for the legacy of your House that we allowed you and your protector to enter. And it is for this legacy that you will be allowed to rest, and then to leave. Should you be leaving by the East-gate, it is for that legacy that we will grant you leave back in again when your task is done." He shook his head. "But you will not speak of this to me again."
Maedeth bowed as she thanked him, forcing herself to look away from his resplendent mithril throne. She would not let the tears fall. She could not afford that. They still had work to do. They had to seek an audience with King Amroth of Lórinand. Turning on her heels, she passed Elladan and together they followed Foli back into the Hall of Falling Water. And only there, when the rushing waterfalls would mask her every sound, did she allow herself a moment to grieve.