Status: complete

Thalion Faer, Doltha Hún

Moria

The aqueducts concealing one of Moria’s many hidden dwarf doors were now empty, like my faith in this place. Something didn’t sit right with me about the mountain side that towered above us, the dying vegetation scattered around the drying up lake in the distance. But it was just a feeling.

We walked solemnly; quietly. Behind me followed Feredir, whom I was leading carefully over the rocky terrain. Our footfalls echoed around us, shooting out through the heavy fog and bouncing off the mountain side. Boromir was at my side, his Gondorian shield slung over his back as we trekked along the path. Gandalf called to Frodo, and as they conversed the remainder of the Fellowship passed them.

“Something about this place does not sit well in my heart.” Boromir said quietly to me, looking around at the desolate landscape.

“This is the path we must take.” I stroked Feredir’s neck as Boromir sighed.

“You know there is another way.” He argued.

“Boromir, the ring is far more powerful than I ever dared to think at first, so powerful that in the end it would utterly overcome anyone of mortal race who possessed it. It would possess us all.” I spoke softly, keeping my tone placid in order to avoid the appearance of an attack.

“The walls...of Moria!” Gimli said in awe. The Fellowship looked up in unison at the towering greatness before us, and we collectively took a few moments to take in the grand sight. Feredir struggled over the rocky plateau as we began to inch along beside the wall.

We were looking for one of the many secret entrances to Moria—the dwarves were great masters of protecting the mountain halls. The air was denser at this level, water vapor mingling with the oxygen and causing a slight discomfort in my lungs. Boromir looked troubled, possibly even hurt that I was disagreeing with him. As much as I loved him, I knew who was right.

“Tell me, Boromir, has Faramir changed?” I stroked Feredir’s nose as we walked behind the others.

“He is the same boy he has always been.” Boromir smiled as he recollected memories of his younger brother. “Foolish, but his heart is in the right place. He never quite recovered from your disappearance…Neither of us did.”

I slid my eyes towards his, catching his saddened expression. It was the expression I used to do anything to prevent. I wondered if he had any clue as to how often I dreamt of him all the years I was away. I had genuinely missed him more than I dared to express or admit…least of all to myself. I wondered how badly I had hurt him, if he was hiding now the pain I had caused then.

“Dwarf doors are invisible when closed.” Gimli tapped the head of his axe against the stone as we marched alongside the massive wall.

“Yes, Gimli, their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten.” Gandalf hobbled along at the head of the fellowship, eyes scanning the rock ahead.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me…” Legolas muttered, causing the dwarf to grunt.

We came upon the edge of the dwindling lake, the absence of sunlight causing the water to appear frightfully black. It was wholly undisturbed, small pebbles paving the way into the abyss. Up ahead were two grand trees; leafless. They stood like great statues; their many branches intricately twisting and turning in every direction, casting wondrous shadows on the backdrop of stone behind them.

Gandalf led us to a spot between these two trees, pausing and tracing his hands over the surface. As Boromir and I drew closer, I realized there were faint markings upon its surface. Speaking something out of earshot, Gandalf looked up towards the skies as the clouds gave way to the full moon. In unison the Fellowship looked back at the markings on the wall that were now vibrantly luminescent.

If my memory served me, this was the Door of Durin. I had read books about Moria, in its elder days, and of all its beauty. The door was outlined as an arch, with trees wrapping around either pillar. At the top of the arch was an Elvish inscription, and below that was a crown and series of stars. In the middle, however, was another star; much larger than those proceeding the arch. Gandalf stood back, taking a moment to read the inscription before translating it for those who could not speak Elvish.

“It reads ‘The Doors of Durin—Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.’”

“Well…what do you suppose that means?” Meriadoc looked to the wizard for wisdom.

“Oh, its quite simple. If you are a friend, you simply speak the password and the doors will open!” He placed his staff on the star in the middle of the door and spoke the password. “Anon edhellen, edro hi ammen!” There were a few agonizing seconds while we waited for something to happen, but Gandalf only grumbled before trying another password. “Fennas Nogothrim, lasto beth lammen.”

“Nothing’s happening…” Pippin exclaimed, watching the doors stand still like the rest of us. The old wizard grumbled about once knowing every spell on Middle Earth, struggling to remember the opening words. “What are you going to do, then?” I cringed at Pippin’s honest yet foolish question, for I knew it would evoke out of the wizard a snappy response.

“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.” He huffed, sitting down on a large rock and squinting his eyes as he searched his borderless mind for the answer.

One by one, the members of the Fellowship also took rest; finding a companion to occupy the time with while Gandalf thought mercilessly. Boromir stayed with me, and together we sat on the cold stones. He released a quiet sigh as he looked over at Gandalf. I could tell he was anxious; neither of us were comfortable in this place.

I studied him while his focus was drawn elsewhere. He was so much more different than I’d imagined he’d be. For some reason a deep part of me believed he’d still be sixteen year old Boromir; sporting fancy clothing but still fraternizing with stable girls. One stable girl, to be correct. But no, he had grown up into the perfect Captain of Gondor, just as Lord Denethor wanted. My dear Boromir, proudly clad in his red Gondorian suit and armor, sat before me with the same red hair that I remembered.

Out of the black waters of the lake comes a monster: dark as the liquid it dwells in. It has more arms than I can count, and before I can be alarmed it snatches Frodo from before me. It carries him away from the Fellowship, dragging him down into the depths of the lake. His screams disappear, replaced with bubbles that dwindle slowly with time. We have failed him.

“Vanya?” I shook off the episode and met the concerned eyes of my childhood friend. “Have you a need to rest? You had almost fallen over…”

“No, I am well rested.” I struggled to fully pull myself back to reality. My eyes shifted uneasily to the lake, and then to Frodo and the Hobbits near its edge. Not all of the vision came true, did they? I prayed not.

“What is the matter?”

“I…” Perhaps it was time for Boromir to know. “Boromir, there is something you must know.”

“Are you alright?” He dropped his voice, leaning forward slightly. He used to carry out the same action when we were younger; whenever I would talk of my simple childhood woes. I could not help but smile.

“I have a gift, which allows me to…see things. Premonitions, almost…Only I have yet to be able to control it properly. I do not choose when I see these visions.” I held my breath, watching him digest the knowledge and form an opinion.

“Curious…Is that what causes your eyes to change?” He leaned forward with interest, eager to know more. I was pleased, for some part of me believed he would not approve of such things. “They turn bright silver, like the moon.”

“Yes, I assume that is what causes them to change colour. Its frightfully dangerous at times, though. For because I do not control them, it is difficult to be prepared. Whenever I get a vision it makes me…lose control almost. When we were at the foot of Caradhras, for instance, and I collapsed after sparring with you—that was because I had a vision. And in all honesty…well its worrying me Boromir. I am beginning to wonder what should happen should I have a premonition during a battle or other situation likewise.”

“I shall protect you, that is what shall happen.” He said confidently, sitting up straight. His words evoked out of me a smile. I reached my hand out, trailing it down his cheek.

“You cannot protect me forever, Boromir.”

“What did you see?”

“The mines are no place for a pony, even one so brave as Bill.” I heard Aragorn say to my left, working with Samwise to remove Bill’s saddle, reigns and packs. I realized the truth of his words—no matter how greatly I wished for Feredir to stay with me, it would be cruel to make him endure the unpredictability of Moria. I stood up as Aragorn pushed Bill away, and he trotted slowly by Boromir and I.

“He’s right, Feredir. You need not endure the mines.” I whispered to my friend as I began to remove his gear. He grunted in defiance, and tried to back out of my grasp, but I calmed him and coaxed him back to me. “To Fangorn, dear Feredir. I will find you there.” I whispered this to him, stripping him of his man made items. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I took a few moments to keep back the tears threatening to spring. For a moment I wished we were taking the road south. Kissing his nose, I turned him away from me and watched as he hesitated before leaving me.

I turned from the sight of his retreating figure, trying desperately to place out of my mind the crunching sound of his hooves on the rocks. I would find my way back to him one day…Boromir placed his hand on my back in an act of sympathy as we walked towards the Fellowship. The two Hobbits, Merry and Pippin, were beginning to throw stones into the water. My heart began to flutter as ripples came into being on the surface of the water.

“Do not disturb the waters.” Aragorn warned, catching Merry’s hand before he could throw another stone. The Hobbits sported guilty looks as they halted. The rest of us, however, were focused on the lake. The ripples were no longer small, nor did they seem to be caused by sinking rocks. They were much more livid now, rolling towards the shore like ocean waves.

“Oh, its useless…” Gandalf grumbled from behind us, drawing my attention from the waters. I prayed that Gandalf found the answer, and quickly, for if my premonitions were right we would all be in danger…

“It’s a riddle…” Frodo said quietly, which caused the rest of the Fellowship to turn. “Speak ‘Friend’ and enter. Gandalf, what’s the Elvish word for friend?”

“Mellon.” There was a loud crack, like thunder, before the doors expelled a thin layer of ancient dust and swung outwards. I cast a weary glance back at the lake, and at the disturbance that had failed to calm. Gandalf led the way into the dark mines of Moria, and I ushered the Hobbits in before I entered. My heart lightened a little once we were inside; we’d escaped. My vision hadn’t come true, which meant that whatever I saw could be prevented.

"Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves!” Gimli stated proudly. “Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone. This, my friend, is the home of my cousin, Balin." While Gimli reminisced of his time in Moria, Gandalf brought light to the darkness. “And they call it a mine. A mine!”

My eyes adjusted to the light and swiftly scanned our surroundings. What I saw caused my heart to drop. All around us were carcasses of dwarves; still clad in their armor. They were decorated with jaws wide open and full of death, and arrows sticking out of their skeletal remains. I continued to walk forward, suddenly determined to find out if the death before us would disappear once we passed this area. We had to continue.

“This is no mine…it’s a tomb.” Boromir breathed. Aragorn quietly called for me to stop, beginning to follow me away from the Fellowship as I headed towards the darkness. Gimli’s cries echoed horrifically off the walls, tainting the stone with the pain and sadness that the corpses emanated.

“Goblins!” Legolas exclaimed from behind us.

“We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here!”

“We must turn back, Vanya.” Aragorn grabbed a hold of my arm, halting me from advancing. I faced him with fear in my eyes, shaking my head slowly.

“We cannot go back to the lake, Arago—”

“Strider!” Sam called in a panicky voice. I tried to remain calm as I cast my eyes in the direction of the Hobbits. A foreign part of me knew to run before I registered what was happening. What I had already seen happen. Frodo was on his back, being dragged towards the ominous blackness outside the doors. I pushed past the Hobbits, immediately hacking my sword into the creature’s arm. It retracted into the water, disappearing completely as the rest of the Fellowship joined me. I began to lift Frodo up, dusting him off when something flung me to the ground.

The creature came back full force at the Fellowship, snatching Frodo from us and dragging him back to the water. I rushed to rise again, running as fast as my legs could permit me into the lake. I began to furiously attack whichever arm came close to me, while muttering my chant to myself. The beast was monstrous and terrifying, but Frodo’s horrified screams gave me reason to forget about myself and focus on destroying this monster.

Just as the beast began to lower the petrified Hobbit into its mouth, Aragorn managed to sever the tentacle holding him. I continued to attack the beast as Frodo fell into Boromir’s arms behind me. Gandalf yelled something, but I could not focus on his words. I was much too occupied with the mission of destroying the beast that dared lay its appendages on Frodo. The beast continued to draw closer, which would give me the perfect opportunity to puncture its eyes. A few more moments and I would have my revenge.

An arrow zoomed by me, piercing the creature’s right eye just as a force pulled me away. In fury I spun, but realized that all the others had rushed into the mines and away from the beast. Aragorn was tugging me to safety, and although I wished to stay and obliterate the monster, it would have in fact been a daft idea. We slipped into the mines as the beast continued to chase after us. As it wrapped a pair of tentacles around the doors they collapsed, rocks crashing into my feet as we pushed further into the mines. The Fellowship watched as the entrance collapsed before us, choking out the little bit of light the moon had delivered.

“Frodo? Where are you?” I called into the darkness. Gandalf lit his staff once more, and I quickly located the Hobbit. He was too shocked still to speak, but I rushed to him nonetheless. Inspecting him for any arm, I carefully went over every inch. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I believe so…” He said in disbelief. Exhaling in relief, I embraced him and thanked the heavens for sparing his life.

“We now have but one choice…”Gandalf said sullenly. “Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than Orcs, in the deep places of the world."
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Jesus, it's been forever since I updated. I'm so so sorry. Please don't hate me forever :( ?