Notes: Blah, my pet fighting fish, Bobby Drake, died soon after writing the last chapter. I only had him for two months, but I feel like such a bad owner. This is the reason I don't have cats or dogs.
Gollum: Fissh.
***
The Return to Moria
Chapter VI: Meanwhile, Upstairs
By RubyD
***
Gimli saw moments too late that his Elven companion would fall. Without a thought to the battle ravaged Hall he ran for the edge as the sight of Legolas dipped away under the view of a rock horizon. His side flashed in pain and he stumbled, sliding to a stop before the ravine. A breeze kicked dust into the dwarf's eyes, but he could see a shadow of a person already many, many leagues gone, and ever leaving.
"Legolas!"
Far too late.
A dark silhouette fell upon the Dwarf as he shouted and shouted the name in vain, and the Orc bit and clawed Gimli in a frantic fury. Gimli, now too in a rage, grasped the beast by the arms and succeeded in flipping him over. Foul yellow teeth snapped and dove for his face, but he grasped a fallen sword and cut it along the Orc's throat.
Spirit new in strength, Gimli returned to the fray with the sword Legolas had let slip from his fingers. He bellowed and showered the blade on the backs of the enemy. Dwarves and Orcs collapsed in on all sides to an ocean of arms. Those close by in the lower levels had arrived in full force, carrying with them the fire and steel to put out the demons.
Then the oil came. Dwarves that knew what was coming dashed to the protection of walls. Out from high ledges near to the great roof of the Hall was a rain of glass bottles with a short flame which, upon breaking, would send out thick vines like briar made of oil. They would flare to fiery light, spreading with speed, and creatures ran to escape the burning thorns. Glittering axes would greet them.
Then onyx-tipped arrows, shot by Orcs, rose as wasps to strike at the oil-glass. Cutting shards and fire landed on all, and the heat of the place was suffocating. Deadly slings appeared, sending missiles of shrill stones to the foes.
No one was winning.
The dying onslaught of beasts suddenly drew back at the cry of a horn. The Orcs paused, stopped, almost as statues.
It then sounded again. It was a piercing and sickly note, Gimli thought, so different from the noble tones of Boromir's and Merry's horns. It was a message of a type; the call to retreat. The horde began to filter quickly out into dark holes and thin caves, hissing in wrathful abandon.
The Dwarves took pursuit in elation, slaying those that straggled behind. They cried out at the perceived victory, celebrating like brothers back from a hunt. Gimli did not join and stood alone, clutching to the sword of his lost comrade.
***
'I insist we search for him,' Gimli told Lord Talin. They were sitting in the Talin's study, gray and cool with books and maps piled in a nest of papers, preparing for the festival after the scouring of the caverns for any trace of the Orcs.
'Lord Gimli,' Talin sighed, pulling at his short beard. 'There is no way to know if Legolas survived the fall.'
'Gandalf fell, yet lives! What happened once could happen yet again.' He would have stood and paced the room, but his bandaged leg hindered him some.
'Master Gimli.' He tried to reason with a mild voice. 'It has been a difficult day, and all are certainly tired. Tonight Moria will hold a vigilance to those who died bravely, including Legolas, and you will rest. Sleep might clear your confounded head of this irrationality, and tomorrow can shed new wisdom. Then you shall journey to Mirkwood, my friend, to tell the Elf's family of this tragedy. They should be told by someone they trust.'
The Dwarf's face was nearly red at this speech. 'Have you lost your ears? He is alive! I am staying!'
'But, Gimli - '
Gimli said again in a tone that required no argument, 'We search!'
Talin was then subdued by this. 'Fine,' he said thoughtfully after hesitating. 'I can not help, not with the threat of Orcs around. Go on your quest, but I doubt you would find any safe entrance to the bottom of Middle-earth.'
'I know of one.'
'Do you?' he asked, curious.
'The Endless Stairs, by way which Gandalf escaped.'
Talin was incredulous. 'You can not hope to find that. The knowledge of where it lies has been lost for generations, and your wizard friend is not here to show you the way.'
'I will find out.'
'What then? It will be weeks, if not forever, until you find the Stairs. How will the Elf survive that long?'
'He will!' Gimli roared. 'Why do you waste my time asking useless questions? If I am truly as foolish as you must think I am, then let me go on my merry mad way.' He glared, impatient to begin his search and ready to walk out.
'I apologize, I apologize,' Talin spoke quickly and penitently. 'I should not be so think-skinned. He is your worthy friend, and you deserve a chance to look for him. Please, go, and I wish all the luck. Tell me if there is anything I may do to aide you.'
'One thing,' he answered, fury fading. 'Send messengers to Kind Elessar of Gondor, to the Hobbits of the Shire, and the Elves of Mirkwood. Tell them of the news, for they would want to know. I will see the messengers off myself.'
'Yes, of course, at your command,' Talin said, eyes troubled.
With nothing else to say to the other, the two Lords exited the study in silence.
To Be Continued
Notes: Well I'm definitely getting the exposition out…
Gollum: Fissh.
***
The Return to Moria
Chapter VI: Meanwhile, Upstairs
By RubyD
***
Gimli saw moments too late that his Elven companion would fall. Without a thought to the battle ravaged Hall he ran for the edge as the sight of Legolas dipped away under the view of a rock horizon. His side flashed in pain and he stumbled, sliding to a stop before the ravine. A breeze kicked dust into the dwarf's eyes, but he could see a shadow of a person already many, many leagues gone, and ever leaving.
"Legolas!"
Far too late.
A dark silhouette fell upon the Dwarf as he shouted and shouted the name in vain, and the Orc bit and clawed Gimli in a frantic fury. Gimli, now too in a rage, grasped the beast by the arms and succeeded in flipping him over. Foul yellow teeth snapped and dove for his face, but he grasped a fallen sword and cut it along the Orc's throat.
Spirit new in strength, Gimli returned to the fray with the sword Legolas had let slip from his fingers. He bellowed and showered the blade on the backs of the enemy. Dwarves and Orcs collapsed in on all sides to an ocean of arms. Those close by in the lower levels had arrived in full force, carrying with them the fire and steel to put out the demons.
Then the oil came. Dwarves that knew what was coming dashed to the protection of walls. Out from high ledges near to the great roof of the Hall was a rain of glass bottles with a short flame which, upon breaking, would send out thick vines like briar made of oil. They would flare to fiery light, spreading with speed, and creatures ran to escape the burning thorns. Glittering axes would greet them.
Then onyx-tipped arrows, shot by Orcs, rose as wasps to strike at the oil-glass. Cutting shards and fire landed on all, and the heat of the place was suffocating. Deadly slings appeared, sending missiles of shrill stones to the foes.
No one was winning.
The dying onslaught of beasts suddenly drew back at the cry of a horn. The Orcs paused, stopped, almost as statues.
It then sounded again. It was a piercing and sickly note, Gimli thought, so different from the noble tones of Boromir's and Merry's horns. It was a message of a type; the call to retreat. The horde began to filter quickly out into dark holes and thin caves, hissing in wrathful abandon.
The Dwarves took pursuit in elation, slaying those that straggled behind. They cried out at the perceived victory, celebrating like brothers back from a hunt. Gimli did not join and stood alone, clutching to the sword of his lost comrade.
***
'I insist we search for him,' Gimli told Lord Talin. They were sitting in the Talin's study, gray and cool with books and maps piled in a nest of papers, preparing for the festival after the scouring of the caverns for any trace of the Orcs.
'Lord Gimli,' Talin sighed, pulling at his short beard. 'There is no way to know if Legolas survived the fall.'
'Gandalf fell, yet lives! What happened once could happen yet again.' He would have stood and paced the room, but his bandaged leg hindered him some.
'Master Gimli.' He tried to reason with a mild voice. 'It has been a difficult day, and all are certainly tired. Tonight Moria will hold a vigilance to those who died bravely, including Legolas, and you will rest. Sleep might clear your confounded head of this irrationality, and tomorrow can shed new wisdom. Then you shall journey to Mirkwood, my friend, to tell the Elf's family of this tragedy. They should be told by someone they trust.'
The Dwarf's face was nearly red at this speech. 'Have you lost your ears? He is alive! I am staying!'
'But, Gimli - '
Gimli said again in a tone that required no argument, 'We search!'
Talin was then subdued by this. 'Fine,' he said thoughtfully after hesitating. 'I can not help, not with the threat of Orcs around. Go on your quest, but I doubt you would find any safe entrance to the bottom of Middle-earth.'
'I know of one.'
'Do you?' he asked, curious.
'The Endless Stairs, by way which Gandalf escaped.'
Talin was incredulous. 'You can not hope to find that. The knowledge of where it lies has been lost for generations, and your wizard friend is not here to show you the way.'
'I will find out.'
'What then? It will be weeks, if not forever, until you find the Stairs. How will the Elf survive that long?'
'He will!' Gimli roared. 'Why do you waste my time asking useless questions? If I am truly as foolish as you must think I am, then let me go on my merry mad way.' He glared, impatient to begin his search and ready to walk out.
'I apologize, I apologize,' Talin spoke quickly and penitently. 'I should not be so think-skinned. He is your worthy friend, and you deserve a chance to look for him. Please, go, and I wish all the luck. Tell me if there is anything I may do to aide you.'
'One thing,' he answered, fury fading. 'Send messengers to Kind Elessar of Gondor, to the Hobbits of the Shire, and the Elves of Mirkwood. Tell them of the news, for they would want to know. I will see the messengers off myself.'
'Yes, of course, at your command,' Talin said, eyes troubled.
With nothing else to say to the other, the two Lords exited the study in silence.
To Be Continued
Notes: Well I'm definitely getting the exposition out…