Queen of the Swords & Lord of the Rings (a LOTR fanfic)

To Know - Chapter 5 - Walls of Moria

To Know - Chapter 5 - Walls of Moria

~ Esme's P.O.V ~

The company had turned, and we were now tracking back down the mountain. Going down was much easier, then going up. We didn't have to make paths through the snow, as we could just walk on the ones we had made coming up.

I could see some of the Fellowship was very glad that we had decided to leave the icy, death-cold mountain-top.

We came out of a small pass, all in one piece, and into a cavern-like room, where there was a broken, ancient bridge with a rivulet of water streaming perpetually from it's carved edge. I stared down at my feet, carefully watching where I placed a foot on the sharp roughness that is rock.

Suddenly there came an awe-stricken gasp from behind me. "The walls..." Gimli murmured with a sort of reverence, "of Moria."

Turning to face where all of the Fellowship were gawking in wonder, I felt my own breath catch. Sheer cliffs of solid, iron-gray rock ascended sharply upward, intimidating and outlining against a misty white sky. Fog wreathed around the bottom of the cliffs, sneaking in and out of large crevices that carved through the surface. However impressive, I was confused as to how this could be an entrance.

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed," Gimli informed us as we began to journey through the mist, unknowingly answering my question. Suddenly the Dwarf knocked the back of his axe against the stone, making an almost melancholy-sounding clink-clink.

"Yes, Gimli," Gandalf said over his shoulder in reply. "Their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten." Gimli continued on banging his axe against the Walls, as if checking to make sure if any invisible door was there.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Legolas muttered sarcastically, just loud enough for us all (and especially Gimli) to hear. Gimli hesitated, on the brink of a growled retort, then thought better of it and contented himself with a snort of displeasure.

We soon came upon a small, black lake. It shore was composed of dozens upon dozens of tiny black rocks, which shifted when you stepped upon them. I turned when I heard a splash, half-thinking that I would have to go swimming again today, but it was only Frodo. His foot sloshed into the intimidating black waves that had been lapping almost a menacing way at the shore. He scrambled quickly away from the water's edge, and looked out at the lake. I knew he could sense that some unsavory presence didn't want him or any of the Fellowship here, and within myself I sensed it too.

Suppressing my shudder, I examined the dead, bark-stripped tree branches poking out from the surface of the water, but felt intrigued at the lace-like hangings of some sort of green plant that dangled from them. They were like battle-torn, abandoned flags, a lost memorial to long-forgotten warriors. I almost thought, for a fraction for a moment, that I spotted the long, ghostly face of a man, phantom eyes roving the shores for his fallen comrades. Shaking my head to clear it, I inwardly kick myself for letting my imagination so off leash like that.

"Well, let's see..." Gandalf says to himself, suddenly breaking through my thoughts. I turned my eyes to him, swallowing the odd lump that had begun to form at the back of my throat. His hands were like those of a blind man, moving over and over the suddenly smooth surface of a rock that stood out among its craggier and sharper kin.

"Ithildin," he murmered in an almost thoughtful way, and to himself as though he didn't want any other of us to hear. "It mirrors only starlight and moonlight." His fingers brushing idly away thick layers of probably decade-old filth and dust, exposed a series curious curving lines that laced the surface of the rock face. I looked up at the moon, which was currently being obscured by a cloud. My heart sank, that regained its former vigor as the smoky black cloud dismissed itself and faded off into the distance, leaving the moon to her full power shining down on us. Suddenly I realized with a start, that the odd markings upon the rock face had begun to glow with a pale, silvery light. Gandalf stepped back surveying his handiwork with a sort of dignified air.