The Other Ranger [ Lord Of The Rings x Silmarillion ]

Drums

When she woke up, Miril was glad to see she was alone. Ever since she'd run into the orcs yesterday, she'd been worried about finding more and without a real sword, Miril wasn't sure she'd be up for it. As she sat in the little guard post room, she looked out of the cut in the stone that formed a window.

She was horrified by what she saw. She was surprised by how far she could see due to the fact that dozens of fires were lit down below. As it turned out, the gate house she was in overlooked a large, open hall. She couldn't even see the far wall, it was so big.

But she could see hundreds of orcs of all sizes huddled around the various fires. Piles of bones were scattered around including one so high that a seat had been erected atop it forming a throne of sorts. On the throne sat an orc as tall as a man.

She knew she would have to tread carefully and avoid any hallway that went down. If she was lucky, she would find one that led back up to the gate level. But for now she would simply make her steady way up.

She didn't realize it but she'd been in Moria almost five days by this point. The long darkness meant she was sleeping longer than she would've elsewhere, which in turn gave her even more energy for walking. It had been nearly three weeks since she set out from Lothlorien. A week in Mirkwood, a week in travel, and now five days in Moria.

Four more days she spent wandering those darkened halls before she made any progress. And that progress ended up being just in time.

Huge drum beats began reverberating in the tunnels around her as she steadily climbed the stairs up. It shook her very soul.

"That can't be good," she muttered.

Dum. Dum dum. The beats went very methodically. Over and over they sounded. She kept climbing. Down a passage here, back up stairs there. The air was feeling... nicer. More pleasant. For nearly thirty minutes she sped up the stairs until at last she recognized where she was as the Barracks hall.

"Thank Eru," she said aloud.

Suddenly the drums stopped. Miril could tell something was happening but couldn't see. As she ran down the corridor, she halted and looked into one of the rooms. She needed a sword.

A large sword, for dwarf size, was hanging on a weapons rack. Still sharp, she took it from its place and slid it and its sheath into her belt.

The shrieks of orcs and goblins were getting louder as she climbed. A large roar went up and the drums began again, but they were much more melancholy. Very slow and forlorn.

Miril at last managed to reach the postern door nearly an hour later. When she began to shuffle along the ledge path, she saw to her horror just how many goblins and orcs there were. Hundreds of thousands were on the other side of the massive chasm, while a company of nearly a hundred was on her side near the Dimrill Gate. There was no way she could get around them.

The biggest surprise, though, was the broken Bridge of Khazad-dum. It was broken about half way through and Miril smiled.

Whatever company was sent by Rivendell must've come this way and broken the bridge as a safety measure. There was no other logical explanation for the anger of the orcs and the missing bridge. At least they'd gotten through.

That was more than could be said for her. She'd have to wait for the orc company to leave. Little doubt was in her mind that they were waiting to go after the company of Rivendell. But they would wait until dark. So there she crouched, hiding herself with her cloak of Lorien, for the orc company to get a safe distance away.

She waited several hours there before at last the orc company hooted and yelled and moved out into Dimrill Dale. She scuttled along behind them, keeping a safe distance. It wasn't until much later when she ended up losing sight of them under the bows of Lorien. She tried to pick up their trail but instead, only found herself able to focus on one thing.

She was in Lothlorien again.