12. The Fall

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The moment I dreaded for was finally here.

After the Fellowship recovered from the relief of Frodo being alright despite of the cave troll that had just thrusted a spear into the small hobbit's abdomen (thanks to the mithril vest that apparently worth more than the Shire itself), we all ran. We ran for our lives.

Before we could escape very far, a mob of goblins surrounded us. We stood readily with our weapons drawn as we eyed our countless enemies. We were outnumbered.

The goblins were everywhere. On the floor surrounding us, crawling on the walls and on the ceiling. It was a horrible sight, almost surreal. Instinctively all of us formed a circle, our backs facing the others' in order to maintain a proper defense against hundreds of snarling goblins.

Having seen this particular scene in the movie beforehand, you'd think I would be prepared to see all of this. But the movie itself didn't do it any justice. In my fear and desperation, I held on to the hope that the Balrog of Morgoth would save us from these hungry goblins.

I wasn't disappointed. A terrifying growl echoed throughout the massive dwarven hall– one that sent the goblins scampered away in fright.

Thanks Balrog, we owe you one. Good boy.

My gratefulness remained still even when Gandalf told us to run from the Balrog that had scared the goblins away. But soon it vanished as soon as our savior creature showed himself.

Holy mother of god.

He was an embodiment of hell. He was Hades himself. Our salvation turned out to be our doom.

Holy shit!

"YOU. SHALL NOT. PASS!" Gandalf roared furiously at the giant, fiery monster.


My eyes stung as I watched Gandalf turned to look at us right after the Balrog fell to the chasm below. I could only watched him with silent tears as he was pulled down by the Balrog.

We were paralyzed as we watched Gandalf's staff flew down into the abyss, then followed by Gandalf himself. But the wizard, though looking old and frail, weary from travel and toil, managed to get a hold of the edge of the bridge and stared at all of us, then in a flicker his eyes met my wet ones.

"Fly, you fools," was his last words before he let go and vanished into the abyss.

"GANDALF!" Frodo screamed in agony, charging forward to get to the wizard but Boromir held him back and dragged away the poor hobbit who roared and struggled. We all ran as grief gripped our hearts tightly. Before we knew it, we were met by the blinding sunlight outside, finally free from the long dark of Moria.

I could feel their pain, their grief molded together with mine, along with my own guilt. It strangled me inside. I looked around at my companions. Everyone suffered, not a single one, not even the strongest ones, were left unaffected.

The hobbits. They were crying and the sight broke my heart. My tears flowed freely and my lips trembled. I couldn't stand looking at the hobbits so I looked away.

I thought I could handle this. I thought it wouldn't be this hard.

My eyes met Aragorn's. He grieved immensely, but I could see the ranger steeling himself for us. His mournful eyes filled with disbelief and betrayal as he looked at me, as if saying:

'You knew? How could you let this happen?'

That look sent a pang of hurt and guilt in my heart. It was painful that I found it hard to breath. I sent Aragorn a pleading look, expressing how sorry I was as much as I could. He closed his eyes and looked away.

"Legolas. Get them on their feet," ordered Aragorn in a flat voice. Despite the indifference in his tone, sorrow still managed to latch on to his voice.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir shouted at him. His voice filled with heavy grief and disbelief.

"By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with orcs!" Aragorn shouted back, "We must reach the Woods of Lothlórien," he insisted as he stepped toward us.

I stood reluctantly and walked with my eyes focused on our path, unable to look at my companions. I felt that I had betrayed them. Shame and guilt flooding my heart.

A warm hand made its way to my hand. Legolas tried to take my hand in his but I pulled away from him. I didn't deserve his comfort. I failed all of us. He looked into my eyes and an understanding passed between us. I needed time alone and so he reluctantly left me be. I walked away, even as I caught a slight pang of hurt flashed in his electric blue eyes at my rejection.

I cringed inwardly at the thought and wept silently.

Finally, we reached Lothlorien forest just before nightfall. We were met with Lothlorien's arrows pointed at our faces. I stood silently and stared blankly at one of the elf who pointed his arrow at me. His hard gaze wavered briefly as he saw the look on my face, before it turned to his original stoic expression.

I sensed his mild surprise as he noticed the obvious disinterest and lack of surprise in my eyes, even as my face was only inches from his deadly arrows.

We just lost our leader and a friend– how am I supposed to react then?

I let conversations between Aragorn, Legolas and Haldir flowed freely without my interruption, even when Haldir eyed me with curiosity at my lack of interest and attention toward the whole thing.

Deep down I silently wished that they just shoot me and end my misery.

Before I knew it, the arrows were put down and Aragorn was speaking with Haldir in Sindarin, which I blissfully ignored since I knew not much of Sindarin.

After a few moments insisting and persuasion, Haldir finally agreed to let us into Caras Galadhon, the city of Lothlorien. Soon we found ourselves being blindfolded and led towards Galadhrim, the heart of the elven city to meet the one I was looking forward to:

The one and only Lady Galadriel, the lady of light.

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