*。☆。
★。＼｜／。★
˚ ₊ ♡ ❰ BALLAD OF BROKEN SWORDS ❱
*✧ ─── ❝ ❪ WATCHER IN THE WATER ❫ ❞
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ACT TWO  ── audentes fortuna iuvat 🏹 ⁺⑅

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CHILDREN OF ARDA DUOLOGY  ⋆ ☄.
♯ ❝ DARKNESS NEVER DID SUITE YOU TARINYA ❞
CHAPTER TWENTY ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
˚ ₊ ♡ the third age ─── year 3019
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⠀━━ ˚ ₊ ♡ 🏹
❝ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝘪𝘴 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝙧𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙨 𝘰𝘧 𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙨
𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙡 ❞

*✧ ─── DARKNESS CLINGS THE MOUNTAIN AND THE WIND HOWLS OMINOUSLY IN WARNING AS THE FELLOWSHIPS TRACKS THROUGH THE UNEVEN TERRAIN. GYDA KNOWS EVIL LINGERS IN THE SHADOWS, a heavy weight settles in her chest. The night was old, and westward the waning moon was setting, gleaming fitfully through the breaking clouds to give them a small shimmer of hopeful light.

The Company was footsore and tired; but they trudged doggedly along the rough and winding track for many miles. Before them the mountains frowned, but their path lay in a deep trough of land and they could see only the higher shoulders and the far eastward peaks.

At length they came to a sharp bend. There the road, which had been veering southwards between the brink of the channel and a steep fall of the land to the left, turned and went due east again.

Rounding the corner they saw before them a low cliff, some five fathoms high, with a broken and jagged top. Over it a trickling water dripped, through a wide cleft that seemed to have been carved out by a fall that had once been strong and full.

"Indeed things have changed!" Gandalf murmurs at the sight in front of him. "But there is no mistaking the place. There is all that remains of the Stair Falls. If I remember right, there was a flight of steps cut in the rock at their side, but the main road wound away left and climbed with several loops up to the level ground at the top. There used to be a shallow valley beyond the falls right up to the Walls of Moria, and the Sirannon flowed through it with the road beside it. Let us go and see what things are like now!"

Gandalf sounded optimistic, but the timbre in his voice betrayed his true feelings. Whatever laid ahead would not be a joyous reception by Gimli's kin. Ahead only darkness ruled in the half light of the moon and whatever creatures made their home in the crooks and crevices of broken stones, and fallen homes.

Gyda's eyes fleetingly lift up, scanning her surroundings, fathom fingers brush her back warningly, and her own hand clutches the pommel of her sword tighter.

They found the stone steps without difficulty, and Gimli sprang swiftly up them. His smile had not lessened since they had departed for Moria, even as the nerves of the others grew.

Gyda swallows, worries gaze finding Elgarain as she stares up at ahead, green eyes fixated on the sky. There is a small smile of wonder, before the Noldorian queen looks back at her, as if sensing her gaze.

The brunette nods at her, hoping to give her some sense of security before Gyda follows after Frodo and Gandalf to climb the uneven stones that granted them a new view.

Before them stretched a dark still lake. Neither sky nor sunset was reflected on its sullen surface. The Sirannon had been dammed and had filled all the valley. Beyond the ominous water were reared vast cliffs, their stern faces pallid in the fading light: final and impassable.

No sign of gate or entrance, not a fissure or crack could  be seen in the frowning stone.

"There are the Walls of Moria," Gandalf states, pointing across the water. "And there the Gate stood once upon a time, the Elven Door at the end of the road from Hollin by which we have come. But this way is blocked. None of the Company, I guess, will wish to swim this gloomy water at the end of the day. It has an unwholesome look."

Unwholesome was a kind way to put the sight. Something foul lingered—and Gyda could only hope their presence would not disturb or awaken anything.

"Something dark lives here."

The voice came from behind her, and Gyda's shoulders grew rigid before she dares to look over her shoulder.

Legolas' stands with his hands gripping the string of his bow, eyes downcast on the still water, before he looks up at her.

Gyda nods, afraid her voice will betray her thoughts. The sight of the moon casting its glow, reminds her of her time in Mirkwood. He carries the same look in his eyes as he did then, and Gyda still cannot decipher its true meaning. Or maybe she dares not admit she does.

"I fear it is not the only thing we shall face," Gyda looks back across the lake, at the gate to Moria. "Whatever awaits us there..." She trails off, unsure.

His hand clasps her shoulder, the warmth a welcome reprieve from the cold, biting wind. "I sense it too."

She tilts her head to look up at him, something akin to nerves swirl beneath her skin as she opens her mouth to speak "Legolas—"

"--We must find a way round the northern edge,' Gimli speaks loudly before she can even form a full sentence and she clamps her mouth shut and steps away from Legolas, his hand falling from her shoulder.

"The first thing for the Company to do is to climb up by the main path and see where that will lead us. Even if there were no lake, we could not get our baggage-pony up this stair." Gandalf instructs thoughtfully, "But in any case we cannot take the poor beast into the Mines. The road under the mountains is a dark road, and there are places narrow and steep which he cannot tread, even if we can.'

"Poor old Bill!' Frodo sighs as he petted the pony's mane. "I had not thought of that. And poor Sam! I wonder what he will say?'

"I am sorry," Gandalf apologies. "Poor Bill has been a useful companion, and it goes to my heart to turn him adrift now. I would have travelled lighter and brought no animal, least of all this one that Sam is fond of, if I had had my way. I feared all along that we should be obliged to take this road."

Gyda smiles at the young Hobbit, taking the reigns from his hand, "Bill will find his way home Frodo Baggins." She assures him.

Crystal blue eyes look up at her, finding no lie in her eyes, before he releases the rope to her.

With those words spoken, the fellowship starts to follow after Gandalf, as he leads them through the valley. The Company, with all the speed they could, climbs up the slopes and reach the side of the lake.

In breadth it looked to be no more than two or three furlongs at the widest point. How far it stretched away southward they could not see in the failing light; but its northern end was no more than half a mile from where they stood, and between the stony ridges that enclosed the valley and the water's edge there was a rim of open ground.

They hurried forward, for they had still a mile or two to go before they could reach the point on the far shore that Gandalf was making for; and then he had still to find the doors.

When they came to the northernmost corner of the lake they found a narrow creek that barred their way. It was green and stagnant, thrust out like a slimy arm towards the enclosing hills.

Gimli strode forward undeterred, and found that the water was shallow, no more than ankle-deep at the edge. Behind him they walked in file, threading their way with care, for under the weedy pools were sliding and greasy stones, and footing was treacherous. Frodo shuddered with disgust at the touch of the dark unclean water on his feet.

As Sam, the last of the Company, there came a soft sound: a swish, followed by a plop, as if a fish had disturbed the still surface of the water. Turning quickly they saw ripples, black-edged with shadow in the waning light: great rings were widening outwards from a point far out in the lake. There was a bubbling noise, and then silence.

Gandalf now pressed on at a great pace, and the others followed as quickly as they could. They reached the strip of dry land between the lake and the cliffs: it was narrow, often hardly a dozen yards across, and encumbered with fallen rock and stones; but they found a way, hugging the cliff, and keeping as far from the dark water as they might.

A mile southwards along the shore they came upon holly trees. Stumps and dead boughs were rotting in the shallows, the remains it seemed of old thickets, or of a hedge that had once lined the road across the drowned valley. But close under the cliff there stood, still strong and living, two tall trees. Their great roots spread from the wall to the water. Under the looming cliffs they had looked like mere bushes, when seen far off from the top of the Stair; but now they towered overhead, stiff, dark, and silent, throwing deep night-shadows about their feet, standing like sentinel pillars at the end of the road.

"Well, here we are at last!" says Gandalf, outstretching his arms.

"Careful." Gyda clutches the back of Frodo's green cloak as the Hobbits miss steps, slipping partly in the lake.

"Well, let's see." Gandalf mutters under his breath, hands skimming over the cold stones in search for the Gate of Moria. "Ithildin—it mirrors only starlight and moonlight."

As if the sky had heard his words, the clouds that had covered the moon's light were whisked away by the wind, and a pale moonbeam casts it's glow.

Light erupts from carved out crevices, revealing an intricate patterns, "It reads; the doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak friend, and enter." Gandalf translates.

Gyda frowns, unsurely looking at Elgarain who stands rooted next to Gimli, the axe-wielding dwarf gazing in awe at the sight in front of him.

"What do you suppose that means?"

"It's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open." Gandalf confidently answers.

Assuredly, Gandalf speaks the language of the dwarves(?), but moments pass, and silence looms over the clearing.

Gyda coughs, as Gandalf starts to stammer, before deciding to push against the walls.

More time passes as Gandalf without avail, tries other ways to open up the gates, while the others start to dwindle away from the door, some seeking rest against the cold stones, or talking in hushed voices.

"Part of me wishes those doors will remain closed," Elgarain whispers softly so only Gyda catches her words.

Gyda grins, despite her own apprehension, "Darkness did never suite you, Tarinya."

Her eyes flicker to Aragorn, as if Gyda's reply reminds her of something he once said, but she quickly turns her gaze back to her friend. "I fear there is more than lifeless shadows hiding in those mines."

"You and me both," Gyda mutters as dread settles into her heart once more. "Keep your weapons close Elgarain, and your eyes open."

"Not to worry, I haven't forgotten your lessons," Elgarain smiles, trying to lift the somber mood.

Gyda smiles, but says no more as a sudden splash echoes behind her. Spinning on her heel, she watches as the water ripples and Pippin bends down to grab another rock.

But before he can, Aragorn grabs his cloak, roughly pulling him away from the edge of the lake. "Do not disturb the water." He warns firmly, but Gyda's attention is no longer on the two hobbits, instead she watches nervously as the water stirs unnaturally.

"Oh, it's useless." Gandalf speaks disgruntledly, sitting down next to Frodo in defeat, but the Hobbit frowns, gazing up at the illuminated gate with newfound clarity, "It's a riddle," He breaths out. "Speak friend and enter."

Gyda barely hears him speak, as the water of the lake becomes more wild, ripples of water growing larger and louder.

"What's the Elvish word for friend?" Frodo asks.

"Mellon."

The rocks crack, and the heavy stone gate moves to open. 

A small spurt of relief washes over here, but it is short-lived for the dark and ominous waters they leave behind, another kind of evil awaits them in the mines of Moria.

With Gandalf walking in front the Fellowship approaches the mines, shadows dancing on the stone walls as less and less light manages to come through. With a racing heart and tense muscles, Gyda steps over the threshold into the dark abys.

"Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves," Gimli boasts proudly, a carefree lilt in his voice . "Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone! This my friend is the home of my cousin Balin. And they call it a mine, a mine!"

A pale light flickers from the tip of Gandalf staff, slowly chasing away the darkness and illuminating the cavern they'd entered. Chiseled walls, endless cobwebs and specks of dust floating in the air--

A startled yelp surprises Gyda, her head snapping towards the noise to see Elgarain stumble backwards. Boromir's hand lands on her arm, steadying her, though his eyes were focused on what had her so spooked.

Slowly, Gyda's own eyes follow theirs to see a skull staring up at the duo. It's mouth open in a silent scream of fear.

Just then the stench of death filled her nose, and with wide, sad eyes, Gyda notes the skeletons scattered around the ground, the signature dwarven armor the only thing left behind. Sword laid forgotten among bones, and shields had splintered.

"This is no mine," Boromir's voice broke to the stunned silence. "It's a tomb."

The realization dawned on everyone. The Hobbits stumbled back in fear, Gyda reaches for her sword as her eyes search the darkness but worst of all was Gimli's heartbreaking shout of grief.

Legolas knelt down and inspected one of the arrows penetrating a Dwarf's breastplate.

"Goblins," he snarls, throwing away the arrow and reaching for his own.

As though his words had been a signal, both Gyda and Aragorn draw their swords and Boromir followed suit. For a moment, Gyda wants to rush towards Elgarain's side, but she knows, her queen, knows that even if she had not been born gifted with sword or spear, she had trained to obtain the skills needed. Gyda had made sure of it.

And as she watches the High-Queen reach for her spear with determination, Gyda knows she will fine.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan," Boromir mutters beneath his breath. "We should never have come here." But then he raises his voice, shouting with the ferocity of a warrior: "Get out of here, get out!"

Gyda takes in a deep breath, steadying her nerves, before determinately clutching her sword. Elgarain is already encouraging the hobbits backwards, but then she falters in her step and Gyda's tenses.

Running forward when she sees a dark, scaled tentacle came from the depths of the dark water. It wraps itself around Frodo's leg, dragging him towards the lake.

The Hobbits shout in panic, and Gyda waste no time in rushing forward, Boromir, Aragorn and Legolas only seconds behind her as they face the dark threat. The foul creature screeches, tentacles swinging wildly.

Sam drew his short sword, shouting anger as he hacks away at the slimy arm holding Frodo captive. Wounded, the monster withdraws, giving Merry and Pippin a moment to drag Frodo away from the waterline.

The young Hobbit heaves, fingers curling around the ring around his neck.

But the creature was not yet defeated, as countless tentacles breach the water surface, grasping for them as the monster they belonged to roars.

Once again, the creature, as if sensing the alluring ring, reached for Frodo, dragging him away from the others, holding him high in the air so no one could reach him. He was screaming in fear, wilding swinging his short sword in the hopes of freeing himself.

Boromir reaches the water first, hacking away at the slimy arms with a terrifying strength. From a distance Legolas fired his arrows, inflicting countless wounds on the Watcher in the water. Aragorn and Gyda join Boromir in the water, their swords strong and swift.

A battle cry leaves her chapped lips, as with masterful skill, she swings her sword and ducks beneath the tentacle of the creature. The water sloshes around her, slowing down her movements, but her senses have been honed in on each quick move of the Watcher.

Her boots are soaking wet from the dark, cold water but she ignores the tremors of cold and fiercely continues swinging her sword. Frodo's fearful screams adds fuel to her fighting spirit. Her arms were starting to ache from the effort it took to cut through the thick scaled skin of the Watcher in the water but she clenches her teeth and fights on.

An arm appears above her, almost looking like it's taunting her. For a moment she wishes Galion was here. He'd probably know the exact right words to challenge a creature such as this. But she pushes those thoughts aside and swings her sword with deadly precision. The motion comes as easy to her as breathing. Steel connects with skin and black blood stains her arm but she doesn't fall back.

Beside her she hears the battle cries of Boromir and Aragorn as they desperately try to reach the Ringbearer, before the monster could drag him down to the depths. But for ever arm they cut down, a new one seems to take its place.

Gyda shouts in rage as she slashes at the tentacle in front of her once again, aiming for the wound she already inflicted. The monster roars in pain when her sword lands right where she wanted it to and cuts the arm in two. But there is no time to celebrate her victory.

Shivers crawl up her leg when a strong, slimy tentacle wraps itself around her ankle. She's mere seconds too late to realize what's going on and suddenly she's pulled down. Her back connects with the hard floor and for a moment she can't breathe. The water edge comes closer as she's dragged along the floor. With gritted teeth she tries to reach for the knife in her boot but it's nearly impossible to stretch herself far enough to grab it. Her eyes flicker to the lake and she's about to prepare herself to be swallowed by the icy waters.

Something moves past her in a blur of gold and green and suddenly the pressure on her leg is gone. She gasps for breath as she immediately jumps back on her feet, ready to defend herself and then her eyes land on her savior.

Legolas had sprinted into the water and severed the tentacle, releasing the monster's hold on her.

His blue eyes stare into hers and the worry they hold startles her. She did not need to be dragged to the depths of the lake to feel like ice cold water is slowly drowning her, pulling her down as those blue eyes hold her captive.

The expression on her face must've betrayed her surprise because Legolas seems to realize how exactly he'd been looking at her. He's quick to mask his emotions, the worry replaced with a warriors' indifference.

The two of them turn back to the battle happening around them, pushing any personal feelings aside for now. Gyda catches sight of Boromir as he manages to severe the limb holding Frodo with one swing. Aragorn stand ready to catch the Hobbit, putting him back on his feet as they hurry out of the water.

"Into the mines!" Gandalf shouts.

They sprint towards the doors, Legolas covering their back as he continues firing his arrows.

The arms chase them, pulling at the rocks in a desperate attempt to turn the fight back into its favor. But the doors start to tremble and the rocks come tumbling down. Dust flies up, watering her eyes as the doors of Moria were pulled apart and destroyed. The monster retreated before the rocks would bury it. The wall trembles before caving in completely, trapping the Fellowship in darkness.

Slowly the echoes of the collapsing doors fade away and the only sound that remains are their trembling breaths. The darkness was thick and heavy. The lack of sight makes Gyda clutch her sword even tighter.

Then, slowly, the familiar pale, white light of Gandalf's' staff lit up the tomb and Gyda slightly relaxes the hold on her blade. Her eyes wander through the cave, counting the faces of her companions and she releases a small breath when she realizes they're all accounted for, startled but unharmed.

"We now have but one choice," Gandalf speaks up. "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."

Her gaze finds Elgarain, remembering her fears of being trapped in the dark. She nods at her and smiles, hoping to encourage her for the journey awaiting them.

Elgarain's smile is unsure, but determination shines in her eyes, adding to Gyda's own strength.

Walking side by side they headed after the others into the mines.

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ELVISH TRANSLATIONS

mellon— friend
tarinya— queen