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━━━━ »•» act two. age of shadow

23. silhouettes «•« ━━━━

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ third age ━━ year 3019

𓇻 misty mountains; khazad-dûm {moria}

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THEY LEFT THE TOMB BEHIND WITH GREAT HASTE AS THE SHRILL CRIES OF THEIR ENEMIES CHASED THEM THROUGH THE DARK. The sounds left eerie warnings echoing through the great stone hallway and made her heart tremble with fear. Elgarain tried to ignore them as best as she could by keeping her eyes focused on the light of Gandalf's staff. But her sharp hearing could not completely ignore the noise, especially when it seemed to surround them from every possible side.

The orcs came jumping out of cracks and holes in the ground, joining the ever-growing crowd on their heels. She caught sight of them climbing down the pillars of the ancient Dwarven city, like giant, misshapen spiders scaling the walls. Her grip on her spear tightened as she quickened her pace but deep down, she knew it didn't matter how fast they ran. They weren't going to make it...Their enemy was everywhere, taunting them with their howls. Their foul smell overwhelmed her senses and fuelled her fear.

Gandalf was forced to a halt when the orcs that had come crawling down the ceiling jumped to the ground in front of them. Without having to exchange a single word, the Fellowship formed a circle around the Hobbits. The orcs had them completely surrounded, their numbers far too great to count. The pale light of their guide only revealed a small part of them but Elgarain could sense their number stretched out far beyond their line of sight.

As an Elfing she had never been able to picture dying. She and her kin were spared the pain and grief of being parted by death. As she'd grown older, however, the cruelty of the world had forced her to face such mortal feelings anyway. But of the many ways she'd pictured herself joining her father, dying in the darkness without the sight of her beloved sky above her, had never been one of them. Still, she would go down fighting, of that she was absolutely sure.

Gyda's steady breathing on her left and Boromir's ready sword on her right only added more fire to that conviction. They would go down fighting with the knowledge they gave their last breath in protection of Middle-Earth.

Yellow eyes filled with menace glared at her in the dark. While rotten teeth formed taunting grins that made her stomach turn. Their number seemed infinite, as did their lust for war...

A sudden deep, rumbling, roar made the ground tremble and the walls shake. As though the mountain itself had awoken to rain down its fury upon them all. Immediately the orcs quietened, shifting nervously as they searched for the source of the sound. Elgarain could not imagine any creature would make orcs tremble in fear. All she knew was it wasn't likely to be a friend to the Fellowship either. Especially not if it was able to howl with such raging fury.

The darkness was driven away by an ominous yellow light at the far end of the immense hall. Flames painted flickering silhouettes along the walls as the air turned dry and hot. A second roar followed and a shiver crawled down her spine. Heavy footsteps made dust rain down from the ceiling. Her entire body urged her to run, run as fast as her feet could carry her. She wasn't willing to wait and find out what would emerge from the flames...

And neither were the orcs it would seem. With fearful screams and trembling limbs, they retreated into the darkness, crawling back into their holes and caves. And as quickly as they'd entrapped the Fellowship, they had disappeared again.

She felt exposed and naked, standing there in the middle of a ghost city. While the flames grew brighter and the heavy footsteps slowly came nearer.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir muttered fearfully.

Gandalf stood as still as a statue; his eyes closed. Elgarain wasn't certain whether it was because of fear or because he was deeply lost in thought. The lack of reaction from the Wizard made her even more nervous. It felt as though an eternity had passed when he finally opened his eyes. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the genuine fear reflected within his gaze.

"A Balrog," he spoke quietly, as if afraid of merely speaking its name. "A demon of the ancient world."

Durin's bane...the price the Dwarves paid for their greed. She should've known. Images of dark shapes painted in ancient books briefly passed her mind. Demons surrounded by shadow and flame with soulless eyes and fiery weapons. Images she once thought would only ever greet her within her nightmares whenever she read too many scary tales as a young Elfing. But in some cruel twist of fate, they were about to appear right before her eyes.

"This foe is beyond any of you. Run!"

The fear and urgency within Gandalf's voice got them all moving immediately. A third roar made the walls shake, as though the Balrog could sense their retreat. Their hurried footsteps echoed through the hallways, now empty of any life but theirs. But no matter how fast they ran, the flames followed them everywhere they went, burning brighter with each step they seemed to take.

They left the Dwarf-city behind and entered a narrow hallway with smooth chiseled walls. With the Hobbits still in the middle of the line, they hurried forward. They passed underneath a large archway, exiting the tunnel where a staircase awaited them. Boromir took the lead and hurried down the stairs. Her heart leaped in her chest with fear when he stumbled as the staircase came to a sudden halt and a deep, dark abyss greeted him. He flailed his arms, desperate to keep his balance but dropped his torch in the process. The flame disappeared into the depths below.

Elgarain hurried forward and grabbed Boromir's arm, pulling him away from the edge. She steadied the warrior on his feet, saving him from falling to a certain death. His green eyes found hers and he smiled gratefully.

"Watch your feet, soldier," she said with a small smile. Despite her words, her voice was trembling with fear.

Boromir softly squeezed her shoulder. "I would be foolish to refuse the advice of an Elven Healer." The same fear lingered within his eyes, still he tried to do the same for her; Distract her from the terror that was hunting them.

"This way!" Gandalf shouted, pointing to another staircase on their right. "The bridge is near!" When they took just a moment too long to gather themselves, the Wizard raised his voice. "Do as I say! Swords are no more use here."

As they dashed down the stairs, Elgarain could feel her very skin glowing from the heat that seemed to radiate from the inferno in the depths below. It wasn't natural a fire. The flames were fierce and filled with a warning of impending doom.

The stone staircase twisted and turned as it led them further down. It went against her every instinct to continue going downwards. But it was the only way towards the bridge that would take them out of these cursed mines. So, she clenched her teeth and tried to smother her fears.

Their retreat was halted by a gap in the bridge ahead. The years seemed to have taken their toll upon the craftsmanship of the Dwarves. The stone had crumbled and given in to time. As fate would have it, the gap wasn't that big.

Legolas jumped first, light on his feet as always. He landed gracefully and immediately turned back around, gesturing for the Wizard to follow him. Gandalf did so without hesitation, surprisingly agile for a man of his appearance.

Her ears caught a strange, sharp, whizzing sound. But before she could process it, she was roughly pulled back. With wide eyes she watched as an arrow landed on the very spot she'd just been standing.

Several orcs seemed to have taken it upon themselves to taunt their enemy to their very last breath. They stood upon the edge on the other side of the chasm, firing their arrows at the Fellowship. They landed at their feet, luckily not causing any harm.

Elgarain turned to look at who'd pulled her aside. The same pair of green eyes as before greeted her, a small smile residing in the corner of his lips. "Watch your feet, my Lady."

She grinned. "I would be foolish to refuse the advice of a Gondorian warrior."

A pained scream made her turn around. Legolas had returned fire, his aim far better than that of the orcs. The arrow had pierced the orc's forehead and the creature tumbled over the edge with an agonizing wail.

"Merry! Pippin!" Boromir shouted their names as he gathered the two Hobbits beneath both his arms. With a great leap he jumped across the other side.

Legolas caught the man while Gandalf pulled the two Hobbits to safety. But the stairs cracked beneath the weight. They staggered backwards as another part of the stairs crumbled and fell to the depths, making the gap even larger.

"Sam!" Aragorn urged, not wasting a single second. He grabbed the Hobbit and with one, forceful throw he tossed the Hobbit to the other side.

Boromir caught him and looked him in the eye, making sure he was all right. Only when Sam affirmed that he was, did the man release him.

Meanwhile, Aragorn had turned to Gimli, who shook his head in reply. "Nobody tosses a Dwarf!"

Elgarain threw him a desperate glance.

Somehow, he managed to smile at her despite the situation. "Not to fret, lass. Dwarves are surprisingly light on their feet."

She was too scared to think of a reply. Every word got stuck in her throat and remained locked behind closed lips. And so, she simply nodded.

With a mighty leap, Gimli hurled himself across the gap. His feet landed firmly on the other side but the rest of his body had difficulty catching up. Pulled down by the weight of his armor, he slowly tumbled backwards with flailing arms.

Legolas was quick to react and grabbed a hold of Gimli's red-haired beard.

"Not the beard!"

Barely able to suppress a roll of his eyes, Legolas pulled the Dwarf to safety.

A trembling breath of relief left Elgarains' lips when a hand landed on her arm. Gyda came standing at her side. "Together."

It wasn't a suggestion and so Elgarain didn't protest. Without even thinking about it, she grabbed Gyda's hand. She needed the steady calmth of her friend to help quash her nerves because the deep darkness below wasn't exactly helping...

Gyda squeezed her hand and in perfect unison the two Elleths took the leap to the other side. With a grace that slightly surprised the Queen of the Ñoldor, the two of them landed safely on their feet. Both immediately turned around, ready to catch the last remaining two of their Fellowship.

Another mighty footstep shook her bones. Rocks came tumbling down in a cloud of dust, slamming down against the staircase, breaking off the last piece holding the weathered stairs attached to the rocky cliff. Aragorn and Frodo swayed as they tried to stay upright upon the part of the stairs that was now attached to nothing...

Her heart was racing within her chest as she watched the staircase sway dangerously. Aragorn reacted quickly by leaning forwards, ordering Frodo to do the same. He held on tightly to the Hobbits' cloak, helping him to keep his balance.

The noise of stone crushing upon stone made her ears ring. But she refused to let it distract her and kept her gaze focused on Aragorn and Frodo. By leaning forward, they used their weight to guide the collapsing stairs towards the awaiting Fellowship. Elgarain braced herself for the impact. The rock slid forwards and upon Aragorn's command, they jumped.

Elgarain reached out and caught Aragorn's arm, pulling him towards safety on their part of the bridge. He stumbled, his body colliding against hers, sending a shockwave through her very bones. She released him immediately, avoiding his gaze. She could feel the weight of his eyes resting upon her but she resisted the pull to turn and look at him. Instead, her eyes searched for the Ring Bearer.

Relief flooded her system when she saw Gyda had steadied Frodo upon his feet and was now urging him to continue making his way down the stairs.

The Fellowship hurried down the remaining part of the stairwell as the echoes of collapsing rocks haunted the caverns below. They were now out of reach of the enemies' bows as well, though they were far from safe...

The floor leveled as they finally left the stairs behind. Elgarain could see the bridge up ahead and she almost halted at the sight. The narrow stone that crossed the chasm had no handrails or anything separating them from the gaping darkness below. Still, it was their only way to freedom.

They hurried forward and maneuvered around fallen rumble and gaping holes in the ancient floor. The heat of the fire followed them closely. It coated her skin in sweat and filled her lungs with smoke. The crackling of the flames sounded like taunting whispers, declaring the arrival of the monster on their heels.

Gandalf reached the bridge first, but didn't cross it. Instead, he remained standing next to it, like a guard protecting the gates to a city. One by one the Fellowship passed his tall, watchful figure. His worried gaze was focused on the flames drawing nearer and the sight filled her with dread. The Balrog was not far behind...

Gimli led the Hobbits across, followed by Boromir who hadn't let any of the Halflings out of his sight since they left Balin's tomb. Elgarian followed him, with Aragorn on her heels. She had to force herself to keep her eyes turned forward despite the threatening footsteps announcing the presence of their pursuer.

A shiver crawled up her spine when a familiar hand touched the small of her back, softly guiding her forwards and steadying her along the narrow path. His touch made it hard to breathe...She reached the other side and turned to look back. Aragorn remained close by her side, sword in his hand, his eyes were focused on the sight in front of him.

Gyda and Legolas had just made it across and Gandalf was halfway when a terrifying growl made the Wizard stop in his tracks to turn back.

All the air left her lungs when Durin's bane came into sight.

Out of the flames rose a colossal, dark shape, like a shadow that had come to life. It was hard to put a name to its form. The Balrog had thick horns like a bull, broad human-like shoulders and three fingered claws. Its eyes glowed like two raging suns. Its body seemed to be made from the embers of the fire itself, shrouded in both shadow and flame. With every step it took, flames licked the floor and the walls trembled. The demon roared, fierce and loud. A dry heat stifled the air. With its enormous body of flame and shadow it moved forward. And then she noticed the two wings attached to its back made of smoke and shadow.

"You cannot pass!" Gandalf's voice thundered through the mines.

A trembling gasp left her lips as she watched the Balrog rise to its full height. Flames consumed its body, heating up the caves to almost unbearable temperatures. It almost looked like it was taunting the Grey Wizard, who looked like an insignificant fly in comparison.

"Gandalf!" Frodo cried out desperately.

The heat was suffocating and the presence of the Balrog felt like a shadow gnawing at her soul. Still, Gandalf stood as strong as a deep-rooted oak. He refused to look back and kept his gaze steadily upon his enemy.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn!" While he spoke, he raised his staff above his head. A bright white light formed a dome around him. Like a star facing the dark of the night.

The Balrog unsheathed a sword of scalding flames as it raised its arm. Elgarain couldn't breathe as she watched in fear as the demon brought down the blade. In a flash of blinding light their weapons met. Gandalf staggered from the effort it took to keep standing. Though he managed to throw the Balrog off balance, forcing it to regain its footing.

It roared with blinding fury at the wizard who dared to challenge him.

"Go back to the shadow," Gandalf snarled.

But the Balrog retaliated by changing its sword into a flaming whip. The sound of the lash thundered through the caverns and made her wince.

"You shall not pass!"

With a flash of the purest light, Gandalf brought down his staff upon the bridge. The might of his order rippled through the air with such certainty that Elgarain had no choice but to believe him. She was convinced that the Balrog would not cross that bridge.

But at what cost?

For a moment it seemed like the ancient demon did not know what to do. It couldn't believe the will of the tiny creature standing before it. Then, almost mockingly, the Balrog stepped onto the bridge, as if testing the truth of the Wizards' power. But that was a mistake...With a mighty crack, the bridge collapsed. The Balrog roared undignified as it was dragged down to the depths alongside rocks and dust. It clawed at the walls but its own weight pulled the demon down.

Gandalf sighed with exhaustion and began to turn around. But destiny intervened.

In one last attempt to defeat its enemy, the Balrog lashed his whip. The flames curled themselves around Gandalf's feet. The Grey Wizard stumbled, then fell. With trembling fingers, he clung to the remains of the bridge.

"No!" Frodo cried out, running towards the bridge. Boromir reached out and held him back, preventing him from being dragged to the depths alongside his friend.

Time seemed to slow, trapping her in her despair. Each of them was held captive in the moment and forced to face the painful truth. There was nothing any of them could do to help...

With the little strength he had left, Gandalf managed to speak a few words. His blue eyes looked at them sternly despite his exhaustion. "Fly you fools."

Then he disappeared into the depths below.

Frodo's agonizing scream cut through her bones like a knife. The Hobbit struggled against Boromir's grip as the warrior dragged him away from the edge and towards safety.

Elgarain didn't even realize she was crying until she could taste the salt on her lips. Raw grief tore through her bones like a thunderstorm and there was nowhere to find shelter. In a desperate attempt to anchor herself she reached out and took Aragorn's hand in hers. Their fingers tangled together like a perfect mold, made to hold each other.

Aragorn didn't resist and welcomed the comfort of her touch. His eyes were glued to the bridge as he tried to process the death of his friend. The death of a man they all believed would have lived forever.

They were cruelly disturbed from her grief when the orcs opened fire upon them once again. Now that the Balrog was gone, they were brave enough to once again try to slay their enemy. They couldn't stay here unless they were willing to be impaled by arrows.

"Aragorn!" Boromir shouted. He was already making his way towards the gate, pulling a struggling Frodo along.

Another arrow landed at her feet and that finally shook them both from their daze. She took a trembling breath as Aragorn pulled her along. Together they hurried towards the tiny speck of daylight in the distance. Even the once so comforting feeling of Aragorn's hand in hers wasn't enough to heal her aching heart. She was hardly aware of the steps she was taking as the Fellowship left those cursed mines behind.

Bright daylight assaulted her senses when she finally stepped outside. A winter breeze cooled her heated skin and froze the tears on her cheeks. Though Elgarain hardly noticed any of it. With an empty gaze she stared at the vast landscape surrounding them. It was hard to see the beauty of the rolling hills and blue waters. Everything seemed so empty, so meaningless and in that moment, she wondered how she would ever be able to see beauty in it again.

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𝕬𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝕹𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . .

Even though we all know he's not really dead, it still hurt to put Elgarain through this. Though I did really enjoy describing the Balrog. And trying to create that amosphere of something terrible approaching. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it!

Also lots of Ararain moments this chapter. They're still so in love it hurts.

As always, please don't hesitate to leave a vote or comment. I love hearing from you guys! Thanks for all the support. You really are the best.

See you all next time!

xx Nelly