These Lovely Scars (Lord of the Rings Fanfic)

Nightmarish Pleasures

I am back in Rivendell, sitting in the courtyard outside my chambers. It is twilight, and the sky glows with a soft violet-blue. Waterfalls lace the hidden valley, home of the Sindarin elves. As I reach down to pick a white flower growing from the damp soil, a cool breeze floats over my bare arms. I am not wearing my gloves, for the first time in as long as I can remember. But then, I do not need to. No longer do scars line my left wrist. They have faded away to nothing but a string of memory. Or maybe they were never there. Perhaps I imagined it all, and I am in fact an elf. Yes, I am an elf, and everything is wonderful. The vision fades, replaced by a new one. I stand in battle with the fellowship. Creatures of black shadow drift across the dark, ashen meadow like phantoms. Their movements are swift and graceful, yet quick and unexpected at the same time. Gandalf stands in front, protecting us. The shadows reach him and swirl around until he is lost in darkness. His staff glows weakly from inside the swirling evil, but it slowly fades away to nothing. He is gone, and the shadows move on. Their next taget is Boromir. Unlike Gandalf, he does not fight against the dark force. He succumbs to its power, bending to its will and becoming a shadow in the crowd. Slowly, the creatures begin to spiral around us all, twisting into ugly, black monsters. They whirl and scream, and I cover my ears. I reach out for Aragorn and Legolas's hands, but they are already gone. I follow soon after. The scene shifts for the last time. I sit on a cold, hard surface in an unfamiliar room, an unfamiliar world. I am all alone. With a silent sob, I put my head in my hands and pull my knees up to my chest, shivering and isolated from the world. A voice appears in my mind, "Choose your path..."

I open my eyes to the sight of fire all around us. Smoke fills my lungs and stings my vision. Why am I...wet?

Oh. The events all come tumbling back into my mind, and I remember everything that happened. We were fighting the orcs. Legolas and I killed the cave troll. I was hit in the back by a flying dagger...

The wetness is my blood.

I can almost taste the coppery stench of blood in my mouth. It soaks my shirt until it is the same scarlet colour as my cloak, except for the fact that I am no longer wearing my cloak anymore. It has been taken away, leaving me exposed with only the hilt of a dagger sticking out of my back. The blade seems to have sunk all the way into my flesh.

We are running away from something. Correction: the fellowship. Not me, someone is carrying me in their arms. I turn my heavy gaze up to meet Legolas's concerned eyes.

Upon seeing me awake, he holds me tighter to his chest and mutters something in elvish. I think he said 'there is still hope.' "Hold on Adrianne," he says to me. "Don't close your eyes, concentrate on me." Struggling to keep my eyes open, I look into his. Eyes blue like the afternoon sky. I wonder if I will ever see the sky again? "Aragorn, she's awake," Legolas calls, and the ranger's head snaps to me. We share a painful look. Don't let go his eyes plead.

I finally have the idea to look back and find out what is chasing us. At first glance, all I can see is a river of fire. But as I look closer, two horns begin to take shape. Fiery eyes in a head as black as shadow pierce through, and finally an arm wielding a flaming whip. "What...is...that...? My lips struggle to form the words that I want to say, and a trail of blood begins to run from the corner of my mouth. I itch to wipe it away before Legolas sees and becomes more worried.

Too late. My arms aren't registering properly, and Legolas looks down at me to reply. His eyes cloud with distress at the sight of me, with my blood all over myself. "It's a Balrog, a demon of the ancient world." He answers. Then, "You're going to be okay, Adrianne. We're going to get out of here, and we're going to find help for you."

I cringe. "I...don't need...help. Here, let me...let me stand."

"Yes, you do need help." I am faintly aware that we have now begun to run down a set of stairs. "And no, you cannot stand."

There is a gap in the staircase, where old rock has coroded and broken off. "The stairs...it...it,"

"Shhh, I know," Legolas murmurs, wiping my blood plastered hair out of my face. Even at a time like this, my heart still manages to flutter.

From the front, I see Boromir (who is holding Merry and Pippin) jump first, landing safely on the other side. "Gandalf!" He beckons and extends his arms out, after setting the hobbits down, and the wizard jumps. Boromir catches him, and they back up. Aragorn picks up Sam and Frodo and jumps, also landing soundly. The Balrog behind us is getting closer. Gimli takes a flying leap and barely lands on the edge (Aragorn has to pull him up by his red beard). Finally, it's our turn. I turn my head into Legolas's chest and squeeze my eyes shut, knowing what is coming. He jumps, and my stomach drops at the feeling of us in midair. I almost cry with relief when we land on the other side, although it kills my back.

"Let's go!" Aragorn says, leading the way to the exit. We're so close.

"Are you alright?" Legolas asks me. His clothes are stained red with my blood.

"Yeah," I grunt, trying to ignore the fire in my back. And the fire behind us. The Balrog smashes through the old stone pillars, sending bits of rock flying everywhere. It doesn't help that orcs from high perches have begun to fire arrows at the fellowship.

We continue to mover forwards. Only when we are on the verge of exiting the mines do we stop. Everyone spins around - Gandalf has rushed around the other way, charging back towards the Balrog. Frodo cries out for him.

The wizard stands before the wall of fire. With his staff in one hand and sword in the other, Gandalf looks as powerful as the seas. I tremble, and Legolas holds me closer to him. Ash black horns curl around a bull-like head. Eyes of white fire burn down onto Gandalf. He holds his staff up, "You cannot pass."

"Gandalf!" Frodo cries, pleading him to come back to us.

"I am the servant of the secret fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor...the dark fire will not avail you! Flame of Udûn!" He cries as the Balrog slashed down at him. Gandalf blocks the blow with the blazing, pure white light of his staff. "Go back to the shadow!" He shouts powerfully.

The Balrog continues to approach him. Its whip is a lick of flames. As Gandalf raises both his staff and sword in the air together, I know it will be the end for one of them. "YOU - SHALL NOT - PASS!" He crashes his staff down onto the bridge, and white light explodes from the staff. Just as the Balrog steps forward, the bridge under it collapses, and the Balrog falls into the depths below. Gandalf turns away, breathing hard. He made it. Now we can all leave the Mines of Moria behind us.

A flash of orange flies up, the remnants of the Balrog's whip. We all cry out in warning, but the whip is too quick. It latches itself onto the wizard's ankle, pulling him down into the depths to follow.

He shares his last words with us before he falls. "Fly, you fools!" Then he is dragged down.

I hear Frodo's screams. Boromir holds him back as he tries to follow him to his death. He eventually picks up the hobbit and carried him out. Arrows whiz by us. "Aragorn!" Legolas calls out as we exit. Aragorn stands there, grieving for Gandalf before coming at last to follow us. To lead us.

Gandalf is no longer with us.