Chapter Three. Snow and Stone.
Rewritten 25/05/2020
As the wind blew, I made a firm decision that I would never look at snow in the same way again. The cold nipped at my face constantly, stinging my skin. The cold seeped through my clothes and felt as if it was in my bones. Despite this the sun shone, and occasionally whenever the breeze subsided I could feel the warmth of it on my skin, although this was a rarity.
While we were trekking up the mountain, Pippin stuck himself completely to my side. He was holding my arm for support as he trudged, pulling me down deeper into the snow than I would have liked. But I did not complain; this was much harder on the Hobbits than it was on me. I had joined the Fellowship to offer as much help as I could. So I held onto Pippin as we walked, supporting him as best I could.
The breeze carried the cold air straight into our faces, making our noses and ears sore. The snow was thick and deep.
"I'm freezing cold," Pippin told me, and I rubbed his arm.
"It will get better, Pippin. Don't worry." I didn't know if he could tell, but I wasn't sure if I was being truthful. I had a solemn feeling about the snow-filled road along Caradhras, "At least the sun is high and bright."
Walking up the mountain was cold and bleak and uneventful, save for someone falling from time to time. However, at one point as we walked I heard a slight yelp and a small shout of Frodo's name from behind us. Everyone stopped and turned to see Aragorn helping Frodo up, who had just tumbled down, getting tangled up in his cloak while rolling. For a brief second I daydreamed about having a warm cloak to wrap myself up in, imagining the soft material and—I quickly snapped out of my thoughts when I noticed Frodo was panicking slightly, his hand instinctively clutching his chest, feeling for the Ring, which he seemed to have been lost while he had tripped. I saw it a few metres away, half buried in the snow. I was about to move forwards to get it for him when Boromir strode past me swiftly. He bent down and picked up the small gold band, holding it by its chain. I felt Pippin stiffen beside me and tighten his grip on my arm. Frodo gulped, nervous.
"Boromir." Aragorn warned calmly. Boromir appeared completely oblivious. All he was focusing on was the Ring. I thought of the council, when the Ring seemed to make him hot-tempered and mad. Everyone remained silent as they watched, but I could feel the tension building up. Gandalf shifted slightly, giving Boromir a curious stare. I felt dread well in my stomach.
"It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing. Such a little thing." Boromir whispered. He reached out with his other hand to hold it, or maybe even just to touch it—
"Boromir!" Aragorn said, more urgently this time. Boromir flinched, drawn away from the Ring suddenly, "Give the Ring to Frodo."
Boromir breathed out heavily, as if broken from a trance. He walked forwards and held out the Ring to Frodo.
"As you wish." He said while Frodo snatched it back quickly, hurrying to put it on. Boromir laughed slightly before ruffling Frodo's hair, "I care not." As Frodo gave Boromir a suspicious glance, I saw Aragorn remove his hand from the hilt of his sword out of the corner of my eye. That could have gone wrong, I thought to myself. Watching Boromir as he walked past I clutched my little Hobbit closer to my side, protectively. I was worried for Boromir. He seemed easily tempted by the Ring, and the power it held. It was such an evil thing.
As we trudged on, the snow got deeper and the cold got harsher. I talked to Pippin more to keep him interested and distracted, to keep him focusing on me so he did not scare himself or get frantic. I talked mostly about Rivendell and my experiences of growing up there. I talked about archery and music and flowers and water. Pippin clung on to every word, as if desperate to separate himself from reality.
"Why are Elves so good at archery?" Pippin queried, distracting me. I laughed a little.
"I do not know. It might be just something we, as Elves, have learned over the years for us in battle. That doesn't mean, young Pippin, that Hobbits aren't good at archery. I am sure you'd be very good at it." I replied, trying my best to keep his spirits up. I was quite fond of Pippin. Yes, he wasn't always the brightest, and he was the youngest of the Hobbits, but I could tell that his heart was in the right place. His first cousin, twice removed—Merry—was walking somewhere ahead with Sam.
"Yes, but Elves are very good with swords, too," Pippin persisted, "They make good swords."
"Our craftsmen have had centuries to practise." I reasoned. And I supposed it was true; Elves are immortal. Forever was indeed a very long time.
"Elves are good at everything." Pippin said, now sounding genuinely depressed about Elves. I smiled down at him, the perfect idea to prove him wrong sat at the back of my mind.
"I for one am most certainly not good at everything. Have you heard me playing the harp?"
"You're still probably way better than me at it." Pippin said, glumly.
"Have you heard a dying goose lately?" I stated. I heard a snort like cough, feebly trying to disguise laughter up ahead; no doubt it was the other Elf. I glared at his back, covered with his quiver and bow and long Mirkwoodian blades. I felt tempted to throw snow at the back of his head.
"Can harps even make that noise?" Pippin piped up, concluding my images of me throwing snow at the Prince of Mirkwood.
"Well, on some days, when the temperature isn't quite right and your mind isn't in it, they just do." I answered. Pippin cheered up considerably at that comment. It was true; I could play the harp, and could play it well enough to get through the endless music lessons in my childhood, but when it went wrong it went severely wrong.
Much like the journey up ahead.
* * *
As the Fellowship trudged along the difficult paths on the side of the mountain, the weather got considerably worse. The group had to be careful, as anyone could either slip on some ice and skid forwards a few paces and could topple off the mountainside. Making too much noise or too sudden a movement could cause snow to fall on our heads from a ledge above. Even Greenleaf had to watch his footing, just in case. He had ended up in front of Pippin, with Gandalf leading the way and shielding Sam and Merry as they desperately tried to find shelter behind me. Aragorn and Frodo were close together, and Boromir was leading Bill the pony. It had been a bit of a fight getting Sam to hand over Bill's reigns, he did not want to let anyone else lead him, but Boromir had persuaded Sam that he really had to be careful. Sam had begrudgingly accepted the fact he sometimes looked out for Bill's wellbeing more than his own.
As we slogged, Legolas easily stayed above the snow, not making a single footprint as he stepped. This made it harder for Pippin who would have found walking through the Elf's fresh tracks easier, and I was weighed down trying to guide Pippin. Busy shielding Pippin from the harsh wind and the heavy snow, my feet further in the snow than I would have preferred,trying to leave tracks for Pippin to step in. Freezing wind lashed cruelly at our faces, and the falling snow kept brushing into my hair and eyelashes, soft yet extremely cold. Over time it felt like shards of glass hitting my cheeks.
As the width of the mountain pass grew thinner, the snow grew thicker. It was not long before I had to pick Pippin up to prevent him drowning in it. I heard Gimli behind us struggling to move, but determined all the same. Dwarves were more stubborn than oxen.
Legolas suddenly stopped in front of me, causing me to almost slam into the back of him and to nearly drop Pippin, who only held on to me tighter.
"What is it?" I shouted over the wind at him.
"I hear something." He stated simply, his voice almost lost in the screaming of the weather, before walking past everyone to the front. He stood right at the edge of the mountain pass, "There is a fell voice on the air."
I listened intently, ignoring the sound of Pippin's ragged breath in my ear and trying to listen beyond the mountain for a voice...a voice which spoke with a terrible, destructive power. A sinister, evil voice. I felt my heart drop into my stomach.
"I can hear it!" I shouted, putting Pippin down so I could strain to hear the voice. Had everyone else? The others noticed we had stopped, turning towards the sound cutting through the wind.
"Cuiva nwalca Carnirasse; nai yarvaxea rasselya!" The voice boomed, wafting through the sky like a storm, echoing in my ears. It was an enchantment.
I had thought Caradhras was dangerous in itself. Who was this new evil?
Everybody had ground to a halt; they could all now hear the voice. Pippin froze at my side, and gripped my arm hard. I let out a long breath, which rose in mist in front of me and curled around my face, floating up into my hair. The cold was bitter. The voice was more so.
"It's Saruman!" Gandalf roared from the front.
All in a sudden moment a few rocks fell from above, almost crushing us. A small one clipped my shoulder and I yelped, surprised. Sam turned and gave me a concerned look. I shook my head. It wasn't bad at all.
"Don't worry," I mouthed to the Hobbit.
"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn shouted. "Gandalf, we must turn back!"
"No!" Gandalf yelled back at him. He stepped closer to the edge of the mountain, jutted out of the snow on the pass, chanting back to meet the white wizard, "Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith!"
"Nai yarvaxea rasselya; taltuva notto-carinnar!" Saruman's voice drowned out Gandalf's, and kept echoing around the mountains, intensifying the maelstrom of snow and stone around us. Gandalf chanted defiantly, but rocks had started tumbling down from the top of the mountain, much bigger than the one that had caught me.
"Oh." Frodo gasped.
I expected it, but I still was not ready as huge vats of snow started tumbling from the mountain. The last thing I saw was Legolas throwing himself forwards for Gandalf, pulling him away from the mountain's edge. Huge clumps of snow fell from the ledges above us and I clutched Pippin tighter to me as we were buried completely under all the snow. It was weighty and suffocating, cold and deadly. I could tell Pippin couldn't breathe, but we couldn't move, completely buried under a thick white blanket. I hoped I had taken more force instead of Pippin; I wanted to get out, to make sure he was okay.
From around me, I could hear the muffled noises of people starting to struggle to get out of the snow. I pushed and kicked with all of my might for a bit and, with a little bit of help from Aragorn, Pippin and I were pulled out. Pippin gasped for breath, coughing. I breathed out hard, heaving myself up to my feet.
"I...hate...snow." Pippin managed, shivering hard.
"I could not argue with you more, my friend." I agreed. The the thick snow was up to my waist, meaning I would have to actually climb to get out of it. Pippin was barely treading water in the snow, and I pulled him back up higher with one arm.
"We must get off the mountain!" Boromir shouted forward, "Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the West road to my city!"
"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn replied, reasonably.
"If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it. Let us go through the mines of Moria." Gimli called forward. His tone suggested that he was completely adamant about this. It had been is choice before, and I hated to admit that he was right. We could not stay here. Saruman knew where we were. The snow was just too much for the tallest men in our company, let alone the Hobbits. Caradhras had defeated us.
Gandalf's expression suddenly turned troubled, as if he could hear a voice in his head, telling him of horrors and death. His eyes held doubt, of unspoken fear. I could feel Pippin was shaking terribly next to me, as I supported him so he could stand with his head above the snow.
"Let the Ring-bearer decide." Gandalf said, uneasily.
"Whatever we do...we cannot stay here. This will be the death of the Hobbits." I chipped in. I hoped Pippin wasn't going to catch a terrible chill. I hoped we all weren't going to catch a terrible chill, "And perhaps all of us."
"Frodo." Gandalf urged. Poor Frodo looked like he didn't want to be the one who had to decide, now the fate of us all rested on his small shoulders.
"W-we will go t-through the mines." Frodo stuttered, frozen. He had either wavered from the cold or the fear. It could even have been both.
"So be it." Gandalf muttered. Fighting through the snow but thankful a decision had been made, we all turned back to go to the Mines of Moria, Gimli proudly leading the way.
* * *
It was dark, and cold, and eerie on the way to Moria, but there was a mutual relief we were now out of the snowstorm. The darkness of the ruins made it difficult to navigate around the sharp rocks and misshapen terrain. Naturally, my eyes allowed me to see where I was going and I now walked with much more ease, though not quite as tireless as Legolas, and aided Pippin and Merry along the worn down paths.
"Is your arm feeling better after that knock? It looked pretty painful." Merry asked me. I smiled down at him.
"Thank you, Merry, but I'll be fine." I replied, smiling over at the Hobbit. I suspected it would only have been a small bruise, or an extremely shallow cut.
"That's good!" He chirped, before adding, "I wouldn't want you to be hurt."
"Your concern is endearing." I said, offering Merry a warm smile as we travelled further into the darkness and the shadow.
As we walked onward, Legolas held up until I was next to him. He leaned down, "I feel a dark power. I feel shadow." His voice was merely a whisper, but Gandalf up at the front of the group seemed to tense up a bit. I could feel it too. It was like a weight in the air pressing down on us.
"Shadow?" Pippin queried.
"Darkness, bad power. Evil that lurks. You would call a Nazgûl a darkness of the shadow." I explained to the Hobbit as best as I could. I immediately regretted saying anything. Pippin's expression showed that maybe I shouldn't have indulged in answering his question at all. He had already had one too many encounters with the Ringwraiths.
"I'm sorry, Pippin. Please do not worry yourself. There are none of those here."
He nodded, but I could still feel his tension in the air.
"Frodo, help an old man will you?" Gandalf called back to the Ringbearer, in a move most unlike him. I pricked up my ears.
"How is your shoulder?" Gandalf asked in a hushed whisper. He stopped in the middle of the path. Typically, I hadn't noticed so I kept on walking. Legolas held out a hand to stop me and I walked into it and halted, unaware.
"Better than it was." Frodo muttered back.
"And the Ring?" Gandalf questioned. "You feel its power growing, don't you? I've felt it too. You must be careful now. Evil will be drawn to you from outside the Fellowship. And, I fear, from within." My breath caught up in my windpipe. I breathed it out slowly and looked over at Legolas.
"Shall we keep walking?" I muttered to him. He shook his head slightly.
"It would look as if we are listening to their conversation." Legolas reasoned. I had to prevent myself from looking too guilty.
"Then who do I trust?" Frodo asked, his voice now a whisper.
"You must trust yourself. Trust your own strengths." Gandalf replied, simply.
"What do you mean?" Frodo asked, now slightly confused.
"There are many powers in this world, for Good or for Evil. Some are greater than I am. And against some I have not yet been tested." Gandalf explained, as simply as if someone had just asked him what his name was.
Gimli then prevented Frodo from carrying on asking questions by walking a couple of steps further and pointing in awe, "The walls of Moria." He breathed out. I looked up and gulped. Pippin squeezed my right arm and Merry my other.
"I'm sure it looks a lot more daunting than it actually is." I offered.
"I wouldn't be too hopeful." Legolas then uttered under his breath and in Elvish so only I could understand him. I nodded at him, my mouth pulling into a nervous frown.
"What did he just say?" Pippin questioned.
"He agrees with me, he's sure it's much nicer inside."
"So why didn't he say in Westron?" Merry pressed.
"For the mystery of it. Let's press onward." I said, quickly.
"Elves are odd." Merry muttered to Pippin. Pippin seemed to agree, but I didn't mind. The Fellowship walked on until eventually we were at a lower level. Staggering download over ragged rocks was difficult, and mentally draining. The full moon still shone down at us brightly, gently lighting the way. We were not yet fully underground, but it was still cold and damp as I expected it would be in the mines.
"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Gimli said, knocking his axe against the wall every now and then.
"Yes, Gimli, their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten." Gandalf thoughtfully acknowledged, feeling the wall with his fingers.
"It does not surprise me." Legolas said to himself. Gimli frowned at him.
From behind me I heard a faint splash, to find that Frodo had accidentally stepped in the water. It had given him a fright, spooking him like fireworks spooked horses. Recently he had been so twitchy now, the smallest little thing scared him, and he was very quiet and hardly spoke. I feared it was the power of the Ring making him nervous. I feared the weight of his burden was already weighing heavy on his heart.
As Gandalf pawed at the wall he suddenly stopped. I craned my neck, to see faint flimmering silver lines beginning to appear, visible against the dark stone. Gandalf hummed thoughtfully, "Now, let's see...it mirrors only starlight...and moonlight."
We all turned to look up at the moon, which shone brightly and eerily above our heads, peering down at us. Its faint light glinted in a small lake, of which we stood on the bank. The water was unmoving, like a great glass mirror. It reflected the moonlight but didn't glitter. It looked almost solid. It had been dammed. My eyebrows furrowed; who would have dammed a river near the entrance to a mine? And why?
A wisp of cloud drifted over the moon, allowing the great silver disc to shine its light directly onto the door. Suddenly, the faint spidery lines started to glow in a pattern of a door, showing that there were more lines than could be seen. It was both fascinating and beautiful as the door revealed itself, out from its hiding spot.
"What does it say?" Pippin asked me. I squinted at the door. The writing was quite difficult to read, even in Elven hand.
"It reads: The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak friend, and enter." Gandalf recited.
"What do you suppose that means?" Merry asked, staring at the door with awe.
"Oh, it's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open." Gandalf replied. Merry looked across me at Pippin excitedly as Gandalf placed the end of his staff on the small star on the right side of the door. In a sure tone he began speaking to it.
"Annon Edhellen, edro hi amen!" He stopped and stared at the door for a couple of seconds. It stayed as still as before, definitely still shut. He removed his staff and raised his arms instead, "Fennas Nogothrim, lasto beth lammen."
"Nothing's happening." Pippin pointed out.
Gandalf shot Pippin a pointed look, before pushing as hard as he could on the door.
"The door must open outward." I said, monotone. Gandalf kept pushing, ignoring me. It had not worked, "I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest that it is a riddle, and not a direct instruction." I added. Gimli gave me a funny look. I shrugged, but that caused an unexpected jab of pain to explode in my shoulder. I took a sharp breath, "I may be right or wrong; I am not the creator of this door."
"I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves, Men and Orcs." Gandalf uttered to himself.
"What are you going to do then?" Pippin asked, innocently, "I thought you had been to Moria before!"
"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words." Gandalf said, rather harshly in my opinion, to Pippin. Pippin hid behind me slightly. Gandalf sighed, "The doors can be pushed open from the inside. I did not need to use a password to enter. I had entered on the other side of the mountain; I am unfamiliar with this entrance."
And so that was the end of it. Every now and then someone would suggest an answer to the riddle, but none of them worked. Pippin and Merry had wondered off near Sam and the pony. I leaned the side against the wall, resting my head against the cool stone. The moonlight almost felt mocking now. As this useless time passed, I bumped my head against the wall as if to keep me awake.
"Not the best of ideas." Legolas commented, standing to face me. I was only doing it lightly, but to Legolas it must have looked like I was smashing my skull.
"I can't make sense of it! This riddle is beginning to make my head hurt."
"That might have been the wall doing that." Legolas counselled. I smiled.
I heard Sam sniffle slightly and looked up quickly. I peered over Legolas's shoulder and saw Aragorn taking the reins off Bill. I frowned; Sam had been so attached to him throughout this journey.
"A mine is no place for a pony," Aragorn said to Sam gently, taking the saddle off, "Even ones that are as brave as Bill."
"Buh bye, Bill." Sam said, stroking his nose for the last time. His voice wobbled. Legolas turned and watched also. Poor Sam was trying not to cry.
"Go on Bill, go on." Aragorn said, giving the horse a slight push. The horse turned and walked away, his hooves clipping on the stone, echoing around the walls. Sam watched until he couldn't hear Bill any more. "Don't worry, Sam, he knows the way home." Aragorn insisted. Sam still looked teary eyed.
Moving my eyes away from the sorry sight of Sam and Aragorn, I walked back over to Gandalf and stared at the inscription, reciting it over and over in my head. The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak friend, and enter.
There was a rather loud splash as Pippin and Merry threw stones into the water over to my left somewhere. I had a feeling it wasn't a good idea, but Aragorn had already stopped them, gripping Pippin's shoulder.
"Do not disturb the water." He muttered.
"It's useless." Gandalf finalised from my righthand side, dropping his staff and sitting down on a nearby rock beside Frodo. I continued to look at the glowing letters that Gandalf had explained, or, tried to explain. Speak friend, and enter.
Frodo also glanced up at the door. "It's a riddle." He said, walking over to it, looking upwards at the inscription.
"Speak friend and enter...what's the Elvish word for friend?" Frodo thought aloud.
"Mellon." I replied, instantly, instinctively. The door started opening with the crunch and scrape of stone against stone. Everyone instantly perked up and made their way into the mine, shocked at the simplicity of the answer. The riddle had been so simple it had outwitted even Gandalf.
"Well done, Frodo!" I said to him, smiling. He smiled weakly back.
"Thank you for the word." He said.
"Not at all." I grinned, "It was written on the door all along."
Gimli started to talk to Legolas loudly as they walked side by side into the mine, his voice full of pride. I could tell Legolas wasn't for having it, but he didn't say anything to stop Gimli talking proudly, "Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves! Roaring fires, malt beer, red meat off the bone. This, my friend, is the home of my cousin, Balin. And they call it a mine. A mine!"
Gandalf moved his hand slowly around the end of his staff, lighting up the crystal, causing the eerie glow to illuminate the place, casting low shadows. It peeled away the darkness for a horrifying reveal. I gasped. There were skeletons strewn everywhere, dead bodies in contorted positions here and there, axes and swords littering the ground like leaves in a forest. As I breathed in sharply I could smell the pungent stink of rot and decay. Death. As soon as it all registered in my mind, I jumped at the sight and threw myself back, knocking into the nearest person; Aragorn peered down at me, eyebrows raised. I quickly moved away and straightened up, embarrassed.
"S-sorry, I just..."
"I just need a warning next time."
I smiled feebly, although I was none the happier.
"This is no mine, it's a tomb!" Boromir exclaimed. Gimli looked around and his face fell, his expression now one of distress.
"No!" He shouted, kneeling down next to a body. It was a sad sight, he was distraught, he didn't want to accept it. Gimli hadn't known. It was like his heart had just been wrenched out of his chest.
Legolas leaned over and plucked an arrow out of a skeleton's ribcage. He scowled when he saw the point, gesturing me to come over. I walked over to him and gasped when I saw it, evidently confirming his suspicions.
"Goblins." We agreed in unison.
Everyone pulled out their weapons. I gulped. This was it. I got my bow and plucked an arrow from my quiver and nocked it in. I raised it, pulling back the bowstring, trying to prevent my arms from shaking. Legolas stayed still and calm, his grip on his bow strong and his breathing steady. He seemed used to this. I, however, was not. I was utterly terrified.
"We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here." Boromir said, quietly. The Hobbits were clustered together, staggering about, almost paralysed with fear, "Now get out of here! Get out!"
We didn't have a chance to get out before the next bad happening was thrust before us. It all happened at once in a split second; Frodo had already been dragged out by a long, slimy, snaking tentacle. I looked about, my feet glued to the spot. No one else had noticed. I removed my hand from my bowstring and quickly prodded Legolas, gesturing to what was unfolding before us. He turned and his eyes widened. My feet were glued to the spot, completely lost in what to do.
"Frodo!" The Hobbits cried, trying to grab him but Frodo was being dragged towards the water.
"Strider!" Sam shouted. Aragorn turned immediately with the instincts of a wolf and ran out of the entrance. Sam had hacked off the tentacle, causing it to draw back into the water. Before anyone could pick Frodo up, many more tentacles rose out of the water. There were at least twenty more; they all lunged forward and knocked the Hobbits clean off their feet, one of them grabbing Frodo by the ankles. I felt blood rush to my head, and I sprinted out of the mine, bow raised, Legolas following close on my heel. He had already released an arrow and, with spectacular aiming, he hit the tentacle which was holding Frodo. It was no use. Overwhelmingly I felt extremely useless.
"STRIDER!" Frodo called out, frantic, as he was hanging upside down. Aragorn hacked at the tentacles, Boromir joining in, desperate. At the speed of light Legolas had nocked another arrow and released it. Spurred on I fired my arrow, and it hit a smaller tentacle, causing the monster to pull it back. Two of the luminous tentacles were holding Frodo, one wrapped around his legs and the other gripping his arms. Frodo kept yelping, terrified. All too suddenly, the monster raised its head from the waters of the reservoir. It was ugly, kraken-like. A sea spider? I felt nausea build up in my throat.
The whoosh of Legolas's arrows and the twanging sound of his bowstring brought me back to earth.
"Astella," He said, bringing me back to my senses, "Two arrows." Legolas muttered to me. I nodded. I nocked two arrows and quickly caught on to Legolas's idea. I took aim.
"Boromir! Catch Frodo!" I instructed over to the man of Gondor before I shot both of the arrows. Boromir stopped waving his sword around madly and held out his arms, ready to catch the Hobbit. One of my arrows hit one tentacle and the second hit the other. Another one of Legolas's arrows zoomed the beast and at last it let go of Frodo; the creature in the water shrieked and dropped the Hobbit. Thankfully Boromir caught him before turning and powerfully wading out of the water, Aragorn close behind.
"Into the mines!" Gandalf shouted, running through the doorway.
"Legolas! Astella!" Boromir shouted, "Into its eye!" We both nocked an arrow. Legolas fired his at the monster's head. The monster screeched as Legolas's arrow hit it true into its eye, and I fired mine into its mouth. The beast rose out of the water, advancing on us. The two of us turned and ran after the others. We dived into the mine just as the creature seemed to slam the doors behind us, causing the doorway to collapse completely. We had both landed heavily on the floor.
We were all shut in.
I groaned from the impact of hitting the stone floor, beginning to clamber uneasily to my feet. Legolas had already jumped up, helping me the rest of the way up. It was pitch black, the moonlight shut out beyond the collapsed stone with the creature in the water, so I only knew it was Legolas who had aided me to his feet because of the softness of his hands.
From ahead Gandalf lit the entrance of the mine again with the crystal on his staff, casting the long shadows about the room again. The disgusting sight was revealed to us once again. The light from Gandalf's staff lit up the frightened looks on the faces of the Fellowship, the shadows on their faces deep. Beside me Legolas looked like a ghost in the pale white light.
"We now have but one choice. We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard, there are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world." Gandalf surmised, looking about the doom-stricken room.
The small braids holding my hair out of my face had fallen out so all my hair was down now, fluttering about in the slightest chilled breeze from beyond the staircase. I stayed beside Legolas, near the back of the group. He didn't look remotely messed up in any way, which in a funny little moment forgetting the trauma of what had just happened I decided was not exactly fair...I probably was smeared in dirt and grime.
I felt as if there were going to be much darker things ahead of us, especially more so than unkempt hair.
"Quietly now." Gandalf said as we walked up a flight of stairs, "It's a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed."
As we headed toward the staircase I shuddered.
"Can you sense it too?" I asked Legolas. The foulness in the air weighed heavy. He looked at me as if he knew exactly what I was talking about.
"Yes," He muttered, "Yes I do."
In silence we walked on, the darkness welcoming us with open arms.