Gleina na Agar: LOTR story (Reader)

The Mines of Moria

 "Isn't there supposed to be a door into Moria somewhere?" You asked in pure curiosity as you gazed up at the sharp cliffs towering above you into the night. It had taken you the rest of the day to get around the lake to where the entrance to Moria was... Or at least you were told there was, but no door or gate was visible.

Gimli grunted an answer, "Ai, Lass! Dwarf doors are invisible when closed."

"Yes, Master Gimli. Their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten." Gandalf addressed him in a sarcastic tone.

Legolas snorted to himself, but loud enough for the dwarf to hear, "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

You bit your lip, trying to hold back a smile. The amount of sass the members of the fellowship brought to this adventure really astounded you, but it was something you enjoyed about them. It lifted the growing darkness in your hearts. Even Gandalf tended to vocalize a sarcastic comment or two. In fact you thought he owned the most sass out of the entire company, which he often let loose on poor Peregrin Took. Though it was the hobbit's own doing that brought it upon himself. The door to Moria reflected off the moonlight when Gandalf finally found them, the designs glowing an etherial blue. The only problem was the password to open them. Upon reading the riddle, Gandalf proceeded to recite ancient words and spells, trying to figure out the code. After a while the company grew tired of hoping for the right words and sat amongst the rocks beside the still, black lake.

The only part you dreaded was when Aragorn told you that he was setting Bill loose to find his way home. Sam was equally upset about seeing the pony leave, kissing his muzzle after removing his bridle. Nuzzling into your palm with velveteen lips, Bill's whiskers ticked your palm as if to say farewell. Running your fingers through his tangled mane and soft coat, your heart sank at the sight of him turning away into the night. The pony had been through much with you, but the mines were no place for him. Watching Merry and Pippin toss rocks into the lake made your skin crawl. Something about those waters didn't settle well with you, and for good reason...

To everyone's surprise and relief, it was Frodo who had figured out the riddle, causing the enormous slabs of stone open wide with a heavy, grating noise. Your eyes pierced the darkness, looking for some sign of life and receiving none but a slopping wet sound behind you. Frodo's shriek for help made you jump in your skin as he was dragged across the rocks towards the depths. To your horror, a giant beast with skin like dark oil and octopus limbs emerged from the rippling waters. Shaken from your fear at the sight of Frodo's bright eyes being torn from you, you raced to his side grip his hands and pull him back. Digging your heels into the rocks as Sam sliced away the slippery arm, you cried out for help as another regained it's prey, tightening around your thigh.

The strength of the arm practically cut off the circulation to your leg, sucking tighter and tighter as you writhed to get free. A sharp 'twang' sounded behind you, followed by the feathered end of an arrow sticking into the arm wrapped about your leg. With a gurgling shriek, it released you and Frodo to slap at the waters around it in heated temper. Boromir pulled you to your feet, yanking you back into the darkness of the mines to hide from the monster of the lake. In it's fury, the beast tore at the supports to the door, knocking rubble and debris over the entrance to trap you inside. After the rocks had settled in the darkness and all that could be heard was the heavy breathing of the fellowship, Gandalf lit his staff reluctantly to lead the way into the halls of Moria.

At first you would have thought that 'mines' was a good word to describe the place, until you noticed piles of shrunken black corpses scattered across the halls. Then the word 'tomb' popped into your head making it all the more eerie. An unrecognizable stench wafted around you. A sickly sweet odor mixed in with the oozy smells of underground halls. One of life and death. There was no light other than the bright white gleam of Gandalf's staff casting large and haunting shadows upon the smooth stone walls. Everything was dark, sharp, and dank. The watery cold seeped through your clothes and into your bones making you shiver slightly and shrink into the folds of fabric.