Nobody | Aragorn.

chapter 8

By the time Gandalf remembered which path to follow, it was quite funny when we found out he did not actually know what way to go, just this path we now followed smelled less of rotted corpses.

Gandalf has always had a sense of humor, whether he means it or not.

Soon we find ourselves in a chamber and my mouth falls agape by the might of such halls. To think Dwarves many moons ago had carved into this mountain to create these vast halls of Moria, Khazadum. To think this is how all their homes amongst middle earth appear, it was astonishing. 

"Behold! The great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf!" Gandalf introduces us to the chamber and I peer to Gimli who seems just as in awe as we were. It probably has been ages since he was last here, or maybe he has never.

But soon as we kept walking, we had come upon a door, arrows embedded in its wood, the door crashed in with goblin corpses rotting at the foot. Gimli rushes forwards without a second to reason.

We all chased after the mad man, and then a head was a single coffin of stone, and immediately, Gimli fell to his knees. A single light casted upon the grave of whoever it was who died here, whoever this was, Gimli must have known. 

I stepped forward, touching a sympathetic hand to the grieving dwarf. Aloud I read the khuzdul engraved in the stone, translating it to common tongue for all to hear.

"Here lies Balin, son of Fudin, Lord of Moria."  A shudder spiraled down my spine at the mention of that name. 

This was the dwarf Gimli spoke so fondly of, this was were he was laid to rest.

"He is dead, then. It is as I feared," Gandalf speaks up stepping to the other side of the dwarf, giving me a knowing look.

"Who taught you Khuzdul," Gimli suddenly speaks up, peering up at me from his kneeled position.

I smiled dearly at the dwarf, giving his shoulder one last squeeze before briefly glancing at Aragorn who wore a knowing look.

"Master dwarf, that is yet a mystery to my own head as it is to yours," I admit and Gimli chokes out a laugh through his teary eyes. 

But while I continued to comfort my newly acquired friend, Gandalf took to reading a book that laid in the arms of a deceased dwarf. As if Gandalf was familiar with this dwarf it seemed. It was not in our attention when one curious hobbit dared to touch an arrow that had been plunged into a skeleton, causing the whole of it to fall down a well it sat atop of.

"Fool of a took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" Gandalf yells at the innocent eyes of Pippin who seemed no more shocked than the rest of us.

But then there was silence. Warily I looked up from Gimli to see a look of uncertainty on Legolas, Boromir, and Aragorn's face, one that I knew grew from the ever so slow sound of drums being beaten off in the distance.

Quickly  I turned to the hobbits who all wore a face of fear as I ushered them off behind the grave that Gimli now planted himself upon. He too knew what was coming.

"What is coming, Miss Tame?" Sam asks me and as I look down I notice the blue of Frodo's blade illuminating, it can only mean one thing.

"Orcs," I called out, my voice then prompted the fellowship to draw their weapons, mine included. Whipping out my bow from over my shoulders I'm quick to mount an arrow before saying one last thing to the hobbits.

"Whatever you do, do not be rash, help if you must, if you have the courage, the strength, but I am here to protect you," I tell them, my final gaze landing on Frodo who wore a look of determination in his eyes.