°•*⁀➷ 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒#🏹🌋⚔️
-', ༄ ❪ 𝙻𝙴𝙶𝙾𝙻𝙰𝚂 𝙶𝚁𝙴𝙴𝙽𝙻𝙴𝙰𝙵 ❫
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 ━ gyda carries a legacy she
might not be able to bear ✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩
❝ 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙞�...
*。☆。 ★。＼｜／。★ ˚ ₊ ♡ ❰ BALLAD OF BROKEN SWORDS ❱ *✧ ─── ❝ ❪ way down deep ❫ ❞ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ACT TWO ── audentes fortuna iuvat 🏹 ⁺⑅
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═════════ ☆•° °•☆ ═════════ CHILDREN OF ARDA DUOLOGY⋆ ☄. ♯ ❝ FOLLOW ME THEN ❞ CHAPTER TWENTY ONE✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ˚ ₊ ♡ the third age ─── year 3019 ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
━━ ˚ ₊ ♡ 🏹 ❝ 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 ❞
*✧ ─── THE SHADOWS BECKON HER INSIDE, SWALLOWING HER WHOLE AS THE COLD AIR BRUSHES AGAINST HER SKIN IN AN UNWELCOME EMBRACE. Every step they took leaves eerie echoes chasing them like whispers of the death pleading for passage to light. Every path they chose was cracked and narrow. Erosion had carved away at the structures, like claws of dangerous creatures seeking freedom.
Guided by the pale light of Gandalf's staff, Gyda's sight was limited and she could only catch glimpses of the once mighty Moria. Only the imagination could paint a picture of the once mighty Dwarven halls. Despite the words of pride Gimli had spoken about Moria, it was hard to imagine the comfort of warm fires burning in these walls with the welcoming smell of cooking food and laughter. Only a haunted castle was left.
The desolation felt similar to the sight she had witnessed as young Ellon during Sauron's time of ruling. When terror ruled over Middle-Earth as millions were slaughter in the war. And now, like a cruel twisted joke played by fate, history was repeating itself. Fear gnaws at her heart at the thought, at the mere idea of failing what they set out to do. For the ruins of Moria offered a glimpse into the future of her own home should their mission fail. And every other kingdom of Middle-Earth.
Shaking away those bleak thoughts, Gyda breathes in deeply, closing her eyes for a moment before completely banishing any thoughts of failure from her mind. Instead she focused on the narrow paths that demanded they walk in a single file. Gandalf in front, his grey hair almost looking silver beneath the light of his staff. Behind him walks 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 comes Frodo and the other three Hobbits. They seem to be doing slightly better than they did back on the mountain pass but still the fear lingering within their eyes was unmistakable by the hesitant steps they take, and the visible way they flinch at unsuspected noises. Behind them, directly in front of Elgarain, walks Legolas, who looks much more tense than she'd ever seen him before. The rigidness does not suit him, Gyds thinks.
Boromir walks behind the High-Queen, his breathing shallow and at the rear, behind her Aragorn marches on, grim and silent like a shadowsz
So, they march through the darkness, following twisting paths and chiseled arches. Until Gandalf comes to a halt, something seems to have caught his eye. He places his hand against the wall and the light of his staff illuminated silver veins crawling through the black rocks.
