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━━━━ »•» act two. age of shadow

21. the mines of moria «•« ━━━━

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ third age ━━ year 3019

𓇻 misty mountains; khazad-dûm {moria}

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THE DARKNESS PULLED AT HER AS THOUGH IT WAS A LIVING, BREATHING MONSTER. Elgarain could feel the shadows breathing down her neck and settling into her lungs like smoke. Every step they took left eerie echoes chasing them. Every path they chose was cracked and narrow. Never before had she longed this desperately for the sight of the open sky above her. Though, despite the haunting shivers covering her skin, the ruins of the old Dwarven Kingdom held a strange kind of beauty. Beauty of a tragic, sorrowful tale that brought long forgotten history back to life.

Guided by the pale light of Gandalf's staff, Elgarain only caught glimpses of the once mighty Moria. But its endless halls, stairways and impressive bridges managed to paint a faded picture of its former glory. And after walking for so many hours through the pitch-black dark, it brought her a strange kind of comfort to picture warm fires burning in these walls, accompanied by the smell of food and the sound of laughter.

Though those thoughts were accompanied with a certain fear gnawing at her heart. As though the ruins of Moria had offered her a glimpse into the future of her own kingdom should their mission fail. And every other kingdom of Middle-Earth...

Desperate to shake those thoughts, Elgarain focused her sight on her companions instead. The narrow paths demanded they walk single file. Gandalf in front, his gray hair almost looking silver beneath the light of his staff. Behind him came Gimli, who, despite the grief displayed so clearly on his face, was looking around as though he'd stumbled into a tale of old. Then came Frodo and the other three Hobbits. They seemed to be doing slightly better than they did back on the mountain pass but still the fear lingering within their eyes was unmistakable. Behind them, directly in front of her, walked Legolas, who looked much more tense than she'd ever seen him before. Behind her walked Gyda and Elgarain knew without looking back that her hand would be hovering near her weapons. Boromir walked behind her, his breathing shallow and at the rear walked Aragorn, grim and silent.

So, they marched through the darkness, following twisting paths and chiseled arches. Until Gandalf came to a halt, something seemed to have caught his eye. He placed his hand against the wall and the light of his staff illuminated silver veins crawling through the black rocks.

"The wealth of Moria is not in gold or jewels but mithril."

He turned to face the darkness stretching out to their right and with a startled beat of her heart, Elgarain realized she was staring into an abyss. The ground was not visible from this height. Instead, she could see endless stairs and chains holding the former working contraptions together. Countless grooves had been chiseled within the rock in search of the precious mithril. Now all there was left was dust.

"Bilbo had a shirt of mithril rings that Thorin gave him," Gandalf said as he picked up the pace once again.

"Oh, that was a kingly gift!" Gimli spoke with awe.

"Yes," Gandalf agreed. "I never told him but it's worth was greater than the value of the Shire."

Elgarain raised a brow. The thought of a Hobbit owning such a valuable item was both amusing and unimaginable. She did not think that folk with hearts longing for peace and quiet would make much fuss about such riches. Which made it almost strange that the rest of the world seemed intent on doing the opposite...

The path they were following was starting to descend. It went steadily down and as they walked, the air grew hot and stifling but not yet entirely unpleasant. Elgarain could not suppress the feeling of entering a monster's belly and only managed to do so when the path became level once again, and even then, the image was hard to let go of.

The mines of Moria were vast and intricate and time had inevitably changed the pathways. So far Gandalf's far-off memories of a journey that came once before had been enough. But it was bound to happen sometime that memory would not be enough...Gandalf came to a sudden halt in front of three archways. He looked around, a puzzled expression on his face.

"I have no memory of this place."

They all tried to hide it but the tremor of unease that rippled through the company was unmistakable. For a moment they all stood there, hoping the right path would be revealed shortly. But the silence continued to last and when Gandalf took a seat on a boulder in the middle of the path, it was more than clear their journey would be delayed for a while.

"Let us sit and rest and have something to eat," Frodo offered and as though his words had been a signal, Pippin's stomach growled.

Elgarain smiled, feeling her spirits slightly lifted, even if it was only for a mere second.

Frodo's proposal was welcomed by all and the Hobbits quickly started unpacking their food while Aragorn managed to get a fire going. There was nothing like a Hobbit meal in dreary moments such as these. The flames flickered happily, painting dancing shadows on the wall while they warmed the disheartened Fellowship. The warmth and food were more comfort than they had in days and it visibly lifted the Hobbits' spirits, as it did her own. So much so, that she felt comfortable enough to take out her parchment and pencil.

Their journey thus far hadn't offered many moments for her to capture the forgotten beauty of the world surrounding them. But a place such as this she couldn't pass through without committing it to memory. For a while the mines were filled with the sounds of flickering flames, mumbling voices and the soft scratching of her pencil.

She drew what she could remember of the gate outside, its painting of moon runes now forever lost. Then she sketched the intricate arches and hallways of Dwarrowdelf. Capturing the mines on paper made it beautiful once again instead of haunted. A tragic tale brought back to life.

"I did not know you were a painter, Miss Elgarain," Sam said softly, sounding almost shy.

She looked up from her paper, smiling reassuringly. "I am. It's one of the few things in this world that makes me truly happy."

"Yer not half bad either, lass," Gimli added as he eyed her drawing through the smoke coming from his pipe. The charcoal lines seemed to hold him captivated. The glory of his people restored on a mere piece of paper.

Her smile widened. "That's the second compliment you've given me today, Master Dwarf."

Gimli choked on his pipe and through his coughing he still managed to grumble with fake protest beneath his breath.

"You should watch your words," Gyda joined in, eyes shining with amusement. "Or we might just start believing you're warming up to our kind."

His coughing only grew louder, drawing a laugh from Elgarain's lips. The sound was like the chiming of tiny bells, ringing pleasantly through the caves, drawing the gray eyes of a ranger to her like a moth is drawn to the flames. But Elgarain was unaware of his gaze and turned her attention back to her paper instead. Her fingers danced across the parchment, breathing life into the lines as though they were a living representation of the past. Only when her ears caught the sound of footsteps approaching did she look up. Her eyes found Gyda's gaze and she frowned upon noticing her guard had gotten to her feet, sword in hand.

But Gyda smiled reassuringly as she made her way over to where Elgarain was seated. "We'll go and make sure nothing has followed us." She leaned down and whispered; "You'll watch over the Hobbits?"

Elgarain looked at the Halflings. Sam and Frodo were quietly seated beside the fire while Merry and Pippin were dozing off against a broken pillar. Every single one of them looked weary and tired.

"Of course," Elgarain promised as her hand unconsciously drifted to her spear.

"Stay safe," Gyda spoke softly.

Elgarain rested her hand above her heart. "I will."

She watched as Gyda, followed closely by Aragorn and Boromir, disappeared into the dark corridors surrounding them. She couldn't quite put her wild beating heart at ease. The Fellowship splitting off brought her an eerie kind of discomfort she couldn't put into words. And clearly, she wasn't the only one. It didn't go unnoticed by her how Sam's tired eyes wearily watched the warriors depart. The easy laughs they shared a few minutes ago had already disappeared into thin air. Determined to at least try and lift their spirits, she cleared her throat to catch the Hobbits' attention.

Four pairs of eyes turned to look at her, perhaps even five but since Gimli was pretending he wasn't interested, she granted him the illusion of not having noticed him watching her.

"I think I might have something you might want to see," Elgarain said, turning the pages in her drawing book to the very beginning. Drawings of endless green hills and blue streams greeted her. Even looking at the peaceful and quiet life of the Shire warmed her heart. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it would make the Hobbits feel.

She handed the parchment to Frodo, who was seated closest to her. As soon as his eyes landed on the paper, it was as though a dark cloud was lifted from his gaze and the sun shone from within his eyes again.

"I drew these when I first traveled through the Shire, many years ago," she explained, her heart set aglow by the looks of comfort that appeared on the Hobbit's features. A look that could only be brought upon by the sight of home.

"They are beautiful, miss," Sam stuttered as he held the pages. He looked up, looking like he wanted to pass the notebook on to someone who'd been sitting next to him, only there was no one there. "Pippin?" He asked, looking around.

Her heart stopped as she frantically turned around to look for the Hobbit as well. She was supposed to do one simple thing and she hadn't even managed to do that...

"Not to worry," Legolas spoke from his position against the wall. "He followed Gyda."

Elgarain raised a brow at him. "And you did not think that was important to share?"

The Ellon smirked, actually smirked, at her. "I believe those instructions were left for you, Tarinya."

Gimli snorted but managed to mask it with a cough instead, making Elgarain shake her head fondly.

Silence settled over their encampment once again. Though this time it was filled with the warm memories of home, instead of the cold fear of the mines. They each enjoyed the last of their meal and tried to rest as best as they could before the journey would inevitably continue.

It felt like hours had passed when the three warriors returned and indeed, walking by Gyda's side, was Pippin. The Hobbit made his way towards Merry with an excited grin. But Elgarain wasn't given the time to wonder what he had seen. Gyda walked over to her and sat down beside her.

"I noticed you've lost a particular Hobbit," Gyda jested.

Elgarain smiled sheepishly. "I was worried for a moment."

Gyda smirked. "Must be terrifying, when people sneak away beneath the cover of darkness."

The meaning of those words wasn't lost on her and her eyes drifted towards Aragorn before she could stop herself. Memories of that night in the woods replayed within her mind. But the sharp pain of longing in her heart forced her to look away from him again.

"I don't know what you are talking about Gyda," she said instead.

Gyda just chuckled and patted her shoulder twice before standing back up to her full height. Suddenly she tensed, as though she caught sight of something. Though before Elgarain could question her about it, Gandalf's voice cut through the peaceful camp.

"Ah, it's this way," he exclaimed.

"He's remembered!" Merry smiled as he got to his feet.

"No," Gandalf said as he stood up and put his hat back on. "But the air doesn't smell as foul down here. If in doubt Meriadoc, always follow your nose."

As quickly as they could they gathered their things, not bothering with erasing the marks of their campsite. Following Gandalf, they descended into the darkness, their journey resumed once again. They followed the dark tunnel for a while until they eventually walked beneath an archway, marking the exit. A cold wind caressed her cheek when she entered the new room. With a frown she looked at her right, watching the wall disappear into the dark. It looked like they'd entered quite a large room. Though because of the darkness it was impossible to tell how large.

"Let me risk a little more light," the Grey Wizard whispered.

With an unspoken command, the light of his staff brightened, a tiny sun against a dark sky. As the light grew in strength, the space they'd entered was revealed to them. Elgarain felt all the air leave her lungs in complete awe.

"Behold, the great realm and Dwarf-city of Dwarrowdelf."

Enormous pillars rose up from the ground, beautifully and intricately decorated. They formed a forest of stone. Like silent watchers that had stood guard over Moria for all these long years. The pillars supported a vast roof, far above their heads, dark as a starless sky. The room stretched on beyond their sight, rows upon rows of pillars disappearing beyond even the white light of Gandalf's staff.

"There's an eye opener, and no mistake." Sam spoke softly, his eyes wide.

Carefully and cautiously, they continued onward. Despite the beauty of the Dwarf-city, Elgarain felt very exposed in the wide-open space. The hold on her spear was so tight that her knuckles had turned white. Exhaustion was starting to settle into her bones and it brought the shadows alive with strange shapes and gaping mouths. It only added to her feeling of being watched by eyes hidden beneath the cover of the shadows.

They were about halfway across the enormous hallway when a light broke through the dark. Not the pale light that had been guiding them all this time, but real, warm daylight. It fell through a crack in the ceiling in a straight beam into a room on their right.

A pained cry escaped Gimli's lips and before Elgarain realized what was happening, the Dwarf took off in a sprint towards the room. Perhaps the light had given him hope of finding some sort of sign that some of his people might have survived.

"Gimli!" Gandalf's voice bellowed.

But Dwarf did not listen and so the Fellowship followed him. They entered another room, much smaller than the one they'd come from. Like most of Moria, this room too was covered with the bodies of Dwarves. But there was something here they hadn't seen before. The sunlight that came through the ceiling, rested upon a tomb, standing in the exact center of the room. The golden light turned the stone white, as though the hole in the ceiling had been made specially to guard this very grave.

"Oh, no." Gimli's voice cracked as he knelt down in defeat.

She did not know who had been laid to rest in the tomb, perhaps Gimli himself did not even know. But a tomb meant the Dwarves had been trapped within this room long enough to put someone to rest and that thought was unbearable. The grief for his people had finally brought him to his knees. The weight far too heavy to carry any longer. Slowly, as not to startle him, Elgarain approached the Dwarf and silently placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder while he wept.

The Fellowship gathered around the tomb with heavy hearts and somber eyes.

Gandalf approached the stone, eyes focused on the engravings chiseled into the stone. "Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria," he read solemnly, taking off his hat as a sign of respect. "He is dead then. It's as I feared."

Gimli rested his head against the stone, trying to gather himself, though his body still shook with tears of grief.

Catching sight of something on the ground, Gandalf handed over his hat and staff to Pippin. He leaned down and reached for a dust covered book, carefully prying it from the hands of a skeleton resting against the tomb. Ripped pages fell to the ground, as did the dirt and dust that had clung to the paper.

"They have taken the bridge," Gandalf started to read out loud, though Elgarain wished he wouldn't. "And the second hall. We have barred the gates...but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums in the deep." He looked at the Fellowship with solemn eyes before turning the page. "We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out. They are coming."

A shiver crawled down her spine and her eyes drifted to the shadows lingering in the corners of the room, as though they would come to life and jump at them any given moment.

"Pippin!"

Gyda's warning shout cut through the tense silence, startling them all.

Elgarain turned to look at the Hobbit, watching with wide eyes as he stretched out his hand towards a skeleton seated upon the edge of a well. Its head broke off and fell down into the dark deep oblivion, soon followed by the rest of the armor. A loud clanging echoed from deep within the mines, as loud as the rumbling of thunder during a summer storm. With every clang that resounded, Pippin seemed to grow smaller, wincing visibly at the noise he'd caused.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the echoes died away. The silence returned, more eerie than ever before.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf raged, slamming the book close. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" He marched towards the Hobbit and tore his staff and hat from his hands.

Just when Elgarain's heart had settled within her chest once again, a loud bang rumbled through the depths of the mines. Followed by another, and another. Cold sweat broke out all across her skin and she had to remind herself to keep breathing. Drums.

Her eyes drifted towards the torn pages Gandalf had just been reading from. In some cruel twist of destiny, the fate of the Dwarves of Moria seemed to have somehow become theirs as well.

We cannot get out. They are coming.

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𝕬𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝕹𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . .

I absolutely loved writing this part. The history of Moria is so sad and the place is so scary. But I love emphasising the aspect of looking at this tragic kind of beauty. Like a sorrowful fairytale almost. Just, ugh, I love bringing Middle Earth to life with my own words and interpretations.

What I do not like is writing Gimli's dialogue. I swear it's so hard. So hopefully you guys can still picture him whenever he talks haha.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Please leave some comments and a vote if you did! I love hearing from you guys!

xx Nelly

ELVISH TRANSLATIONS:

Tarinya ― My Queen