Defender of Lorien
They Have a Cave Troll
Anya stood by Gimli as Gandalf wondered over to the skeleton of a dwarf rested against the rear of the tomb. Clutched within its skeletal fingers was a large book, withering from old age. The rest of the fellowship filed into the room. Legolas walked up behind Anya along with Aragorn.
“We must move on, we cannot linger,” Legolas whispered to her and Aragorn. Anya knew he was right, but she felt sorry for the dwarf. True it was that most elves and dwarves no longer saw things eye to eye, but Gimli had grown on her throughout their long months of traveling, and she wished to give him some time to mourn. Gimli chanted something in dwarvish, something unknown to Anya’s ears, and she released her hold on his shoulder and allowed him to mourn on his own, feeling as if she were intruding on a sacred moment that she need not be a part of. Besides the dwarfs chanting, the room was eerily silent.
Then, suddenly, Gandalf’s booming voice broke the silence, “They have taken the bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gates… but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums… drums in the deep.” Gandalf paused, looking around to everyone as he turned the tattered page. Everyone was silent, listening intently to what Gandalf recited to them. Anya felt panic rise in her chest, her heart pounding, sounding as a drum in her ears.
“We cannot get out,” Gandalf continued, the men began to look around, fidgeting as they became anxious, “A shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out. They are coming.”
Anya’s hand lingered over the dagger attached to her left hip, the one Arwin had given to her, as her nerves stood on end waiting for an oncoming attack. There was a loud banging noise emitting from the back of the room where Gandalf and Pippin stood, causing Anya to draw her weapon. It had only been Pippin though, as he had touched a skeleton and caused its head to fall into the well, shortly followed by the rest of its body and a chain attacked to a bucket, stealing away any secrecy they had had.
Enraged, Gandalf stocked over to Pippin and grabbed his belongings from the hobbit, “Fool of a Took,” Gandalf bellowed, “Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity.” The room grow quiet once more, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Anya lessened the grip on her dagger and placed it back in it sheath.
Anya might have felt sorry for the hobbit, but then there was a sudden bang, echoing from far below them, rumbling to life through the well. The banging turned into a drum, as other sounds joined in as well. Such as the voices of fowl creatures. The men looked around as the sounds bounced around on the walls, and Anya turned to Legolas, both of them feeling dread sink in as they knew this fight was going to be inevitable.
The noises grew, and Anya heard someone slip their blade from it scabbard. Looking behind her, Anya saw Frodo holding his sword, Sting, the blade glowing a cold blue.
“Orcs,” Legolas cried. Boromir turned and ran to the door peering out into the hall. With a jerk, Boromir pulled his head back, narrowly evading two arrows that embedded themselves in the door.
“Get back,” Aragorn commanded the hobbits, “Stay close to Gandalf!” Anya knew they needed to bar the doors shut, so she started scrambling around, grabbing up as many old dwarven axes as she could find. Looking up Anya saw Boromir and Aragorn push shut the doors.
“They have a cave troll,” Boromir said slightly sarcastic but also a little worried. Anya tossed the axes she had in hand to Legolas, who in turn threw them to the men, who wedged them to the door. After they had secured the door with as many axes and such as they could, Anya whipped out her twin short swords, ready for the onslaught.
“Are you not an elf,” Boromir asked Anya as he came running back from the door.
“What do you mean?” Anya asked, perplexed as to what he was getting at, because there was no doubt that she was an elf.
“Do elves not use bows?” Boromir asked eyeing her swords.
Anya smirked, “Most elves do well with bows, but I prefer blades, though I am handy with a bow if you were to ask me to use one.” Boromir just smiled back at her.
“You certainly are a strange elf,” he laughed, then he turned serious, “Don’t worry, I will protect you.” Anya just shook her head, finally letting it sink in that no matter what, this human was going to want to protect, be it a heavy log or a cave troll.
“Ha,” Anya snickered, “I will be the one protecting you, young one.” Boromir didn’t seem to know how to react at her calling him young one and the look on his face made her laugh. But their fun was short lived as the creatures on the other side of the door attempted to tear the door apart from their side, so as to get to the fellowship, who stood ready for a fight on the other side.
“We must move on, we cannot linger,” Legolas whispered to her and Aragorn. Anya knew he was right, but she felt sorry for the dwarf. True it was that most elves and dwarves no longer saw things eye to eye, but Gimli had grown on her throughout their long months of traveling, and she wished to give him some time to mourn. Gimli chanted something in dwarvish, something unknown to Anya’s ears, and she released her hold on his shoulder and allowed him to mourn on his own, feeling as if she were intruding on a sacred moment that she need not be a part of. Besides the dwarfs chanting, the room was eerily silent.
Then, suddenly, Gandalf’s booming voice broke the silence, “They have taken the bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gates… but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums… drums in the deep.” Gandalf paused, looking around to everyone as he turned the tattered page. Everyone was silent, listening intently to what Gandalf recited to them. Anya felt panic rise in her chest, her heart pounding, sounding as a drum in her ears.
“We cannot get out,” Gandalf continued, the men began to look around, fidgeting as they became anxious, “A shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out. They are coming.”
Anya’s hand lingered over the dagger attached to her left hip, the one Arwin had given to her, as her nerves stood on end waiting for an oncoming attack. There was a loud banging noise emitting from the back of the room where Gandalf and Pippin stood, causing Anya to draw her weapon. It had only been Pippin though, as he had touched a skeleton and caused its head to fall into the well, shortly followed by the rest of its body and a chain attacked to a bucket, stealing away any secrecy they had had.
Enraged, Gandalf stocked over to Pippin and grabbed his belongings from the hobbit, “Fool of a Took,” Gandalf bellowed, “Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity.” The room grow quiet once more, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Anya lessened the grip on her dagger and placed it back in it sheath.
Anya might have felt sorry for the hobbit, but then there was a sudden bang, echoing from far below them, rumbling to life through the well. The banging turned into a drum, as other sounds joined in as well. Such as the voices of fowl creatures. The men looked around as the sounds bounced around on the walls, and Anya turned to Legolas, both of them feeling dread sink in as they knew this fight was going to be inevitable.
The noises grew, and Anya heard someone slip their blade from it scabbard. Looking behind her, Anya saw Frodo holding his sword, Sting, the blade glowing a cold blue.
“Orcs,” Legolas cried. Boromir turned and ran to the door peering out into the hall. With a jerk, Boromir pulled his head back, narrowly evading two arrows that embedded themselves in the door.
“Get back,” Aragorn commanded the hobbits, “Stay close to Gandalf!” Anya knew they needed to bar the doors shut, so she started scrambling around, grabbing up as many old dwarven axes as she could find. Looking up Anya saw Boromir and Aragorn push shut the doors.
“They have a cave troll,” Boromir said slightly sarcastic but also a little worried. Anya tossed the axes she had in hand to Legolas, who in turn threw them to the men, who wedged them to the door. After they had secured the door with as many axes and such as they could, Anya whipped out her twin short swords, ready for the onslaught.
“Are you not an elf,” Boromir asked Anya as he came running back from the door.
“What do you mean?” Anya asked, perplexed as to what he was getting at, because there was no doubt that she was an elf.
“Do elves not use bows?” Boromir asked eyeing her swords.
Anya smirked, “Most elves do well with bows, but I prefer blades, though I am handy with a bow if you were to ask me to use one.” Boromir just smiled back at her.
“You certainly are a strange elf,” he laughed, then he turned serious, “Don’t worry, I will protect you.” Anya just shook her head, finally letting it sink in that no matter what, this human was going to want to protect, be it a heavy log or a cave troll.
“Ha,” Anya snickered, “I will be the one protecting you, young one.” Boromir didn’t seem to know how to react at her calling him young one and the look on his face made her laugh. But their fun was short lived as the creatures on the other side of the door attempted to tear the door apart from their side, so as to get to the fellowship, who stood ready for a fight on the other side.
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Cliff hanger:)