Numinous // LOTR

chapter nine

With the decision made came to the demoralising trek back down the mountainside, for the entrance to the Dwarven kingdom was far closer to the base of the mountain that it was to the hights of the pass. Boromir and Aragorn had cleared a wide track on their way up so that at least eased the walk down. Legolas and Rekena joined the others in the snow channel, their ability to waltz on the snow above the other's did not seem to help the Hobbits' sullen mood, so they resigned themselves to trudge along with the others.

Rekena dreaded the fact that they may actually enter Moria and the mines beneath the mountain. So little had been heard for so long, and the whispers had not been encouraging. Even if their brethren had managed to breach the gate and take the upper halls, Moria had been lost for so long and such evil brewed within its walls and caverns – was there ever really any hope of success?

The mountain seemed to have let go of its vendetta against them, for their passage back down was far simpler and void of all but the simplest of treacheries, the thick banks of clouds had given way to a soupy mist that clung to the exposed rock.

The pace was slowing, but it seemed like they were nearing the entrance, glyphs and carvings hewed from the rock were becoming more frequent – some were so well hidden it was likely only Gimli and herself were seeing them. They were for dwarven eyes only.

"There are many powers in this world for good or for evil." She heard Gandalf whispering to Frodo, the Wizard giving him advice in hushed tones. "Some are greater than I am, and against some, I have not yet been tested."

"Ah!" Gimli yelled, drawing her attention away from Gandalf warnings. "The Walls of Moria."

And there they were, above them rose a great sheer cliff – the face of exposed rock that held the door.

"Dwarven doors are invisible when closed," Rekena spoke, laying her hand to the rock and running her fingers against it. Gimli took a more direct approach, tapping the rock face with his axe.

"Their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten!" Gandalf exclaimed.

"Why does that not surprise me." A voice whispered behind her; the words so quiet they only graced her ears – for it was only for her to hear.

She attributed the raised hairs on her neck and arms to a sudden gust of wind moved away from the wall; Gandalf took her place – running his hands over a smooth section of rock as if he could entice Moria of her secrets.

The wizard hummed and muttered to himself, but she could make out one word as he brushed away decades-old dirt. Ithildin.

"It mirrors only starlight." Turning his face to the sky, a gentle smile settled on his face. "And moonlight."

As he spoke, the light of the moon awoke the ancient carvings, revealing an ornate door with an inscription around the arch that encased it. There was no lock for a key or handle on the door. Gimli had never laid eyes on the door before, and Rekena had only been to the Dimrill Gate, not the western entrance – the moonlight had illuminated a most ancient and precious sight to them both.

Gandalf raised his staff to the writing. "It reads 'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria, Speak Friend and Enter'"

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry asked.

"Oh, it's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open." Placing the tip of his staff in the centre, he spoke. "Annon Edhellen, edro hi ammen!"

Nothing happened.

Gandalf's brow furrowed, and he cleared his throat. Holding up his hands and staff in a most commanding fashion, he tried again.