Here follows the tale of Dagor Dagorath - The Battle of Battles - The Final Battle - Middle-Earth's Doomsday. It follows the Heroes of Light, sent back from their peaceful afterlife to fight Melkor in order that when the World is remade at the end of the Year 2999 it will be a world of peace and beauty, as opposed to a world of evil and slavery lorded over by Melkor.
The Prophecy has been written and defines Túrin as the Victor but should the Prophecy be proved wrong a world of peace will be exceedingly unlikely.
This tale is completed but in the future I plan to improve the worst of the chapters.
Check the map to see how the regions have changed.
A VERY basic outline of the Silmarillion for the thousands that understandably cannot be bothered to read it:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:So in basic terms Ilúvatar is the God of Gods, the Ainur are Gods below Him. They made a "music" but one of the Ainu corrupted it, need I say? He was Melkor, later known as Morgoth. The most powerful Ainur moved into Eä (the Universe).
- Eru Ilúvatar makes the Timeless Halls and the race of the Ainur.
- The Ainur make the Ainulindalë, the Music of the Ainur which leads to the vision of Arda. Melkor's attempts to disrupt the Music with ideas of his own devising only serve to cause variations in Eru's themes.
- Eru makes Eä with the Secret Fire at its centre.
- Many Ainur enter Eä.
So Bad Guy Melkor wants the world to Himself (what a surprise) and destroys every one of his brothers achievements, all the sources of the light save the final effort: the Sun and Moon (Anor and Ithil).
The First Age begins with the awakening of the elves who leave Aman (a.k.a The Undying Lands) to go to Middle-Earth (Not the Middle-Earth we LotR Fans know and love but an area, Beleriand, to the North West that is now sunk). During the Elves' voyage east Melkor is captured and imprisoned for 3 ages.
I will skip the detail now, Dwarves and Ents wake simultaneously (Ents guard the trees from Dwarvern axes). Men awake later. Some Men are quickly corrupted by Melkor.
Now of the Silmarils:
Created by Fëanor who is later deceived by Melkor who desires these jewels above all else.
Melkor and Ungoliant (Shelob's Great Mummy) destroy the Two Trees, kill Finwë and steal the Silmarils. Fëanor and his sons swear an oath to regain the Silmarils and the majority of the Noldor depart from Valinor; Noldor kill many Teleri and seize their ships in the First Kinslaying.
To skip a long story short: "the Silmarils remained in all three elements — in the sky, earth and water - and would never be recovered except by the reforming of the earth." So the earth needs to reform. Or even better, Sun, Moon, Stars
Thus follows endless conflict but here i Ctrl+V, Ctrl+C the ending of Melkor:
532 - Elrond and Elros are born to Eärendil and Elwing.
534 - Eärendil begins his great voyages
538 - Third Kinslaying: while Eärendil is away the remaining Sons of Fëanor attack the people of the Mouths of Sirion trying to claim the Silmaril. Elwing casts herself with the Jewel in the sea but is brought to Eärendil by Ulmo. Of the Sons of Fëanor only Maedhros and Maglor now remain.
540 - Morgoth destroys the dwellings of Fëanorians upon Amon Ereb. The last inhabitants of Beleriand flee to the south or to the Isle of Balar. Morgoth's triumph is complete.
542 - Eärendil arrives in Valinor and delivers the errand of the Two Kindreds.
545 - The Host of the Valar arrives in Beleriand.
545–587 - The War of Wrath. Morgoth is defeated; the remaining two Silmarils are stolen by Maedhros and Maglor, but are lost in the earth and in the sea; most of Beleriand and the lands to the north are sunk.
590 - Morgoth is cast into the Void; the Elves are summoned to Valinor and settle in Tol Eressëa; a small part of the Noldor and Sindar remain in Lindon or depart east and establish realms.
Google any strange names you come across, this link supplies a detailed summary: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Timeline_of_Arda
Same one I post 100 times
The following events are not stated by Tolkien, they are my own:
ForewordSpoiler Alert, click show to read:Here follows a brief summary of the events of the Fourth Age:
King Aragorn I enlarged the provinces of the Shire in 64 F.A. then finalised the boundaries decreeing that no man was allowed entry to the lands. Aragorn himself obeyed this law.
Near the end of his reign, King Eldarion I restored the names of the cities of Isildur and Anárion and began the reconstruction of Osgiliath. He never saw its completion as he died two years before. His son Elendil II took up the throne aged 50.
In 49 F.A. the Dwarf Gimli established a Dwarf Colony in the Glittering Caves of Algarond (The Hornburg during the War of the Ring), 100 years later the Dwarves had expanded deep into the White Mountains discovering more than glittering caves: Mithril. By 110 F.A. the Dwarves uncovered the remains of a settlement which Gimli recognised as being part of the Paths of the Dead. In 200 F.A. the Dwarves ceased mining as they discovered what they only described as “Demons”. Much speculation has surrounded these “Demons” but not even the Dwarves dared to face them.
In 192 F.A. people began to settle in the lands once known as Mordor (now Seindor, meaning New Land, named so by King Aragorn I upon seeing that Orodruin was dormant and the lands fertile once more). These people were recognised as a new country, subjects to the Reunited Kingdom but heavily watched over for fear of another New Shadow (the first had been a cult in Minas Tirith that threatened the life of the new King, Eldarion. It was destroyed by the Chief Councillor Istion).
In 67 F.A. the armies of Dale expanded to the Sea of Rhûn but were ordered to cease the advance by King Aragorn. Instead they sent aid to the Dwarves who were facing fierce resistance from the Goblins of the Ered Mithrin. By 500 F.A. the Dwarves had taken control of the entire Misty Mountains and Ered Mithrin.
In 208 F.A. the Rohirrim began the conquest of the “Barbaric” tribes of Dunland. The war took three years.
Seven years later goblins came in hordes from the lands of Angmar to threaten the peaceful lands of Arnor. A group of Dúnedain, led by Istion (the previously mentioned Chief Councillor of Minas Tirith), ally with an army of Arnorians and Dwarves. The war takes ten years and all traces of Angmar were finally obliterated.
In 1000 F.A. Treebeard the Eldest went on a “pilgrimage” to the trees of Mirkwood, the Ent’s lifelong search for the Entwives was over for Treebeard discovered a large number “making tree-ish the hill of Amon Lanc”. As a result the forest of Fangorn expanded as far east as the Anduin, populated once again by Entings.
The Elves diminished in number but a few families still kept their home in the halls of King Legolas, the settlement of Imladris and the forest of Lorien. By 300 F.A. the Elves were once more increasing in number, spreading into the south of Eryn Lasgalen.
For many years there was peace in Middle-Earth but in 1559 F.A. a new tribe of people (later named the Helegwaith) came from the previously thought uninhabitable Forodwaith. They attached the lands of Arnor but were repulsed by the Dúnedain. They made a treaty of peace and were inducted into the Reunited Kingdom, settling in the North West of Angmar.
Peace resumed for another millennium and then things changed: The Dwarves began letting more light into their dwellings, fearing the darkness; the Rohirrim lost control of their horses for a few years but then the steeds returned to their masters; the Hobbits suddenly feared exclusion from the outside world and some migrated to the lands of men. In the Capital of Osgiliath the cult of Melkor arose once more and could not be stopped because there was always another to take up the role of High Priest. But most affected were the Seindorians who, in the spring of the year 2989, vacated their homes and took up residence in Gondor.
Seindor was empty of life and a year later the King of Gondor, King Eärnur, seeing the shadow had returned to the land, declared it be renamed:
Mordor.
Book I: In the Beginning‘Here, here. It's the dwarves that go swimming with little hairy women.’- GimliSpoiler Alert, click show to read:Chapter I: Prelude to the Darkness
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part I:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part I: Of the Hobbits
Delgo Baggins woke up. A cold breeze was drifting in through his bedroom window. He moaned a bit, as he always did on a morning then he realised it was midday and so he grumbled some more. Freezing madly climbed out of bed and stumbled over to the window. Strange that it was so icy on a summer’s day.
An hour later he readied the first of many meals to come and sat down to eat it. An hour later, sampling a pipe full of Longbottom Leaf, he took a stroll down to the Green Dragon where he listened to the typical news of the day: other people’s business.
‘...So she said that she ain’t going, so Mister Barlifoot is off to Annúminas on his own. Now what would make a wise-minded hobbit do that? Up until a few weeks ago he hated men just like any rational person.’
‘That ain’t all,’ old Ted Proudfeet began (the Proudfoot family decided on the pluralisation of the name after one member was born with a birth defect giving him three feet!), ‘you know the Parselburs? They utterly freaked, the young girl said she saw a body in the well, the son saw a great fiery demon, twelve foot high and the father saw, and I quote, “a tall man, all in black he was, with a great helm with many spires and eyes red as fire. And he bore this great tool, a hammer. He weren’t no craftsman, he were a demon like that other thing”. So mark my words fellow Hobbits, this isn’t something in the water. Something bad is coming and I just hope it won’t come here.’
Part II:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part II: Of the Dwarves
Bofur woke up. A cold breeze was drifting in from somewhere but he ignored it, he could stand the cold. He suddenly realised it was pitch black and so he lit a lamp and hung it where it could illuminate the whole room. His wife stirred and grumbled, ‘What are you doing, dear?’ Bofur murmured that he was doing nothing and that she should get to sleep. Then he realised it was morning because light was filtering in through the ceiling window. Suddenly he wondered why he had lit the lamp, it wasn’t dark at all. Confused, he extinguished the flame and set about his morning routine.
Two hours later and he was exploring the heart of the Glittering Caves of the White Mountains. It truly was a marvellous spectacle worth preserving in this state for all time, he thought. He heard a tapping sound and turned to face it, he ended up facing a wall of stone. Strange, he pondered over this sound. He was at the far western side of the White Mountain colony and nothing lay beyond that wall.
Except an ancient myth...
Tap... tap... tap...
But it was just a myth...
Tap... TAP...bang!
Bofur shouted out but he wasn’t the only one to have heard. Dwarves rushed towards the sound, may bearing arms. And now it was
louder, deafening...
Bang, bang, BANG!
And the entire stone wall exploded and the demons passed into the world once more.
Part III:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part III: Of the Men
Balion, son of Balatus, woke up. It was cold again and for good reason, night had come to Gondor but sleep did not follow. It was the third time in the past hour that he had woken and now he rose to his feet, careful not to disturb his wife who lay beside him. Pulling on a fresh tunic, he left moved to the balcony from where he looked out over the splendour of the city below him and of the Capital far away. Osgiliath looked silver in the moonlight, a beautiful monument of the reign of King Eldarion I of the House of Telcontar.
Here in the City of Minas Anor there was silence. No-one moved in the marble streets and- But no, as Balion looked down upon the Fourth Level that lay below his house he saw a party of people murmuring strange words moving upwards. They were robed in black and the leader bore aloft something wrapped in pale rags. Curiosity almost got the better of Balion who moved to the door but then, realising the pointlessness of interfering, he returned to his bed and drove the strange group from his mind.
Minutes passed but sleep did not bless the Gondorian and so, lying restlessly on his bed, he heard the words of the passing group that had been but a murmur when he saw them below:
‘Sha-fli Armauk ob draut hu-na Bot.’ Balion knew not what that meant for such a dark tongue had not been heard since the last New Shadow but he knew it was not a tongue of peace. The Black Speech was famed in its day for being recognised immediately as evil, even to one who could not comprehend it. Balion arose once more from his bed and followed the chant.
Armed with only a sword, he made his way silently up to the seventh level where, in the shadow of the Tower of Ecthelion, the party had halted. He stayed out of sight and listened to the repeated chant and watched as the leader lowered the bundle of rags so that it was at waist height above the Fountain.
And then with Balion realised just what the bundle of rags was, and what the dagger was for. He suddenly leapt from his hiding place and rushed towards the group shouting, ‘Stop, don’t you hurt that baby you bastards! Stop!’. He drew his sword to counter the knife that was poised to sacrifice the newly born but the others revealed their own weapons beneath their robes.
Madly he rushed to the baby’s aid but the group members laughed and parried their foe’s furious blows. For minutes he defended himself and much hurt he dealt his enemies but it was all in vain for their numbers were too great and Balion fell to the ground, blood spurting from a chest wound.
He did not die immediately but all he saw was a slanted view of the water of the fountain and the Tree of Gondor. For a few moments he just heard the distorted words of the cult – for a cult it was, the ancient cult that had not been openly practiced since the Cleansing of Harad – then Balion saw the thing he had feared the most: the fast flow of blood that fell from the baby held above into the moonlit waters. Balion tried to scream but no words escaped and the last thing he saw was the Cult Leader as he stained the White Tree red. Blood red.
There were a few more words and then a stream of lightning flowed from the fountain and shot up the Tower of Ecthelion and into the sky where it caused havoc with nature’s work and a storm engulfed Middle-Earth but it brew far worst in the North, in Hobbiton.
Something was coming, along with the doom of Middle-Earth.
Part IV:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part IV: Of the Enemy
In the beginning there had been light and music but the world had changed much since then. Long had He been trapped and now His vengeance would come at the end of the Arda when all would plunge into eternal darkness. The same darkness He had endured for millennia.
To the void He had been banished and now in all His glory He would return and wreak havoc on those beings of Illúvatar. Long had had His servant Sauron researched the secrets of the Door of the Night but with Sauron’s destruction the information had been scattered. But His cult had found these secrets and for the past Age sought to bring back their God.
His face, that had once been divine, beautiful and of light, was now twisted by His evil sorcery and now bore a great scar, scored into His flesh by the talons of Thorondor the First Great Eagle. With a limp he walked for in his foot rested the fragments of the broken hilt of Ringil, sword of Fingolfin, the High King of the Noldor who had fallen to His power. And yet he had to be thankful for in his capture his feet had been cut from under Him and in the ages gone they had healed painfully.
And so in the late days of the Fourth Age He heard the words, echoing to Him from beyond the Door, ‘Sha-fli Armauk ob draut hu-na Bot.’ And impatiently He waited for the words to be complete.
And the words came with a newborn’s strength and He looked upon the Door of the Night and laughed for it was worthless in the face of his newfound strength. He broke the chain that bound Him and reformed the collar into the crown it once was, and yet it was colourless without the Silmarils. And He rose to His still painful feet and summoned His power and let it loose upon the barrier between the Void and the Arda. But it held firm.
But He was not one to despair and so cast his strength into the fell beasts of stone that guarded the gate and admired them as they took in the new life He had given them. The beasts of terror rose alive from their places and obeyed their new Master’s will and they screeched until the basalt shook. Once more He let forth His fury upon the Doors of the Night and the lock crumbled and everything changed.
From the darkness of the Void, three Ages since He was last in existence, came Melkor, Morgoth Bauglir, the Great Enemy, the Tyrant, the Traitor.
Melkor had returned to the Arda and Middle-Earth would never be the same again.
Chapter II: Of the Coming of Eärendil
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part I:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part I: Of the Stars
Delgo Baggins could not sleep and so he sat peacefully on the grassy roof of his smial, watching the moon descend from the sky. In his hand he grasped a pipe of Longbottom Leaf as it always did and he was eying it as if it were poisonous. Since the moon had reached his highest point Delgo had seen lights in the sky, they were not stars and he had more sense than to pass it off on that. The lights were at first merely spots of red in the west, but they had grown into what could only be described as explosions, like those caused by the magic in the Legend of Gandalf the Wizard.
Then something stranger occurred and Delgo watched in utter terror as, one by one, the stars were dragged towards the west... and obliterated... All save two...
Part II:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part II: Of Anor and Ithil
Melkor sang as He pulled the stars into the Void, He sang of “joy” in the Black Speech.
As the beacons of light were drawn in, the Enemy sent forth his demons of the air, taking one as a steed to carry him into his dominion.
He ordered forth his beasts to flaming Anor, the glowing orb of beauty and light. He looked upon it, reminiscing of the days when He had destroyed the lamps and the trees and He shouted out, ‘Ko Burzum, ha nalt alag Dil!’ And the Darkness obeyed, issuing forth from the void, it shrouded fair Anor in Nothing and when it dissipated it was no more – save for a few sparks of fire that had survived. But upon seeing these embers the Fell Beasts of Morgoth swallowed them whole and they kindled a flame in their throats and ever after fire issued from their mouths.
Then Melkor gazed upon fairest Ithil, most beloved of the Elves and its light burnt him until he raised his arm and, with a clench of his mighty fist, broke it. It shattered like glass and the fragments rained down on the planet below.
The destruction of Arda had begun.
Part III:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part III: The Most Beloved Star
And so with fair Anor lost only one star remained and it fell upon Melkor with the fury of one who has lost all.
From his place high in the sky, Eärendil, bearer of a Silmaril, brightest and most beloved star, ancestor of Aragorn and Arwen, looked upon the destruction of his fellow stars and wept. Most enraged was he by the suffocating of the Sun and the breaking of the moon that he left his high place and went forth to avenge the loss. He clashed with his foe high above Middle-Earth and of the Battle little can be told for it was a struggle of beings beyond description.
But Melkor was not destined to fall at Eärendil’s hands. The Fell Beasts of the Darkest Lord screeched unbearably and leapt at him with their talon’s poised to strike. Eärendil fled for he knew now it would take more than he to take down He who had arisen once more in Might.
It was time to call for the ships to return from over the Sundering Seas...
Book II: Heroes and Villains“Farewell, my brave Hobbits. My work is now finished. Here at last, on the shores of the sea... comes the end of our Fellowship. I will not say do not weep, for not all tears are an evil”- Gandalf the WhiteSpoiler Alert, click show to read:West of the Mountains
Chapter I: The First Ship
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part I:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part I: Boromir
‘Boromir, Boromir, Boromir, Boromir!’
The crowd’s cheers were deafening, it was good day. I raised my voice and shouted: ‘This city was once the jewel of our kingdom. A place of light, and beauty, and music. And so it shall be once more! Let the armies of Mordor know this: Never again will the land of my people fall into enemy hands! The city of Osgiliath has been reclaimed... For Gondor!’
‘For Gondor!’
‘For Gondor!’
‘For Gondor!’
‘For Gondor!’
‘For Gondor!’
---
And then I embraced my brother Faramir in the street, ‘Good speech,’ he commented, ‘Nice and short.’
‘Leaves more time for drinking!’ I replied cheerily, ‘Break out the ale! These men are thirsty!’ And so with a glass of beer we toasted the future, it may not look pleasant, there was certainly going to be a far greater war but not today, ‘Remember today, little brother. Today, life is good.’ But then it all went wrong.
Faramir’s face darkened, ‘What?’ I asked, fearing the worst.
‘He is here.’ It was the worst:
I turned and saw our father, ‘One moment of peace. Can he not give us that?’ I said to my brother.
‘Where is he? Where is Gondor's finest? Where is my first-born?’ – Did he always have to rub it in? Faramir tried his best.
‘Father!’ I embraced him but not as warmly as I had done with Faramir.
‘They say you vanquished the enemy almost single-handedly.’
‘They exaggerate. The victory belongs to Faramir also.’
‘But for Faramir, this city would still be standing. Were you not entrusted to protect it?’
Faramir’s face darkened even further and he stated, ‘I would have done, but our numbers were too few.’
"Oh, too few. You let the enemy walk in and take it on a whim. Always you cast a poor reflection on me.’
‘That is not my intent.’
I interrupted quickly, ‘You give him no credit and yet he tries to do your will.’ I moved away and let my father follow, ‘He loves you, Father.’
‘Do not trouble me with Faramir. I know his uses, and they are few.’ I gave up, father was too stubborn. Denethor’s voice grew hushed now and he said, ‘We have more urgent things to speak of. Elrond of Rivendell has called a meeting. He will not say why, but I have guessed its purpose. It is rumoured that the weapon of the enemy has been found.’
I was fearfully surprised and now I understood the riddles that had troubled me and my brother, ‘The One Ring. Isildur's Bane.’
‘It has fallen into the hands of the Elves. Everyone will try to claim it: Men, Dwarves, wizards. We cannot let that happen. This thing must come to Gondor.’
‘Gondor?’ And my mind was crying out “No!”. What did Father want with such an evil? It should not, would not, come here for it would corrupt the hearts of us all.
‘It's dangerous, I know. Ever the Ring will seek to corrupt the hearts of lesser men. But you, you are strong and our need is great. It is our blood which is being spilled, our people who are dying. Sauron is biding his time. He's massing fresh armies. He will return. And when he does, we will be powerless to stop him. You must go. Bring me back this mighty gift.’
Gift? No it was not of greatness but of devilry, ‘No. My place is here with my people. Not in Rivendell!’
‘Would you deny your own father?’ Yes for this, I thought.
‘If there is need to go to Rivendell, send me in his stead.’
Denethor looked mockingly at his second son, ‘You? Oh, I see. A chance for Faramir, Captain of Gondor, to show his quality.’ I felt like striking him, ‘I think not. I trust this mission only to your brother. The one who will not fail me.’
---
And so I found myself on my horse looking down at my brother saying, ‘Remember today, little brother.’ And then I was gone...
*
Pain shot through my body but I did not cry out, in my mind’s eye all I saw were the two hobbits and I was all that stood between the Orcs and them. I parried the blows of the closest two creatures with fierce determination and then finished them off. Strength flooded from my body but it did not matter, this may be my end but it would not be theirs, the little ones had to survive.
Another arrow pierced my flesh and I collapsed to my knees, in front of Merry and Pippin. I made a noise that was meant to be “No!” but it was slurred. Weakly, I rose to my feet and defended them and my honour to the last.
A third arrow struck me and I was on my knees again and it was all a blur. All was lost, the hobbits, the Fellowship, the Ring? The Archer was in front of me, aiming an arrow and then something collided with it...
*
‘They took the little ones,’ I said weakly.
‘Be still,’ said Aragorn.
‘Frodo! Where is Frodo?’
‘I let Frodo go.’
‘Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him.’
‘The Ring is beyond our reach now.’
‘Forgive me. I did not see it. I have failed you all.’
‘No, Boromir, you fought bravely! You have kept your honor.’ Aragorn went to remove the arrows but I stopped him.
‘Leave it! It is over. The world of men will fall, and all will come to darkness… and my city to ruin.’
‘I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall… nor our people fail!’
‘Our people? Our people.’ I motioned towards my sword and Aragorn handed it to me, ‘I would have followed you my Brother… my Captain… my King!"
And all that was grey in that old world rolled back to reveal silver glass and I beheld the whitest shores under a swift sunrise and I would be forever at peace.
Or so I thought.
Part II:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part II: Théoden
‘Where is the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing? They have passed like rain on the mountains, like wind in the meadow. The days have gone down in the west. Behind the hills, into shadow.
‘How did it come to this?’
*
‘Arise! Arise! Riders of Théoden! Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered! A sword-day! A red day, ere the sun rises!’ Across the field the great army of the Enemy had gathered and only our spears could save the burning citadel of Minas Tirith. I rode down the lines of horsemen, my sword rattling on the tips of my companions’ spears, ‘Ride now,’ I cried, ‘ride now, ride! Ride for ruin and the world's ending! Death!’
‘Death!’ cried the Rohirrim.
‘Forth Eorlingas!’ I cried and with the horn of Rohan blowing we rode into darkness and death.
*
‘Rally to me! To me!’
My men gathered and then suddenly scattered as a terrifying screech broke the air. I turned slowly fearing the end to see a great monster, with large bat-like wing bearing down on me. It struck swift Snowmane from under me and I fell to the ground, crushed under my steed and all was just a blur.
*
A shadow passed in front of me and I tried to recognise it, I said: ‘I know your face. Éowyn. My eyes darken.’
The fair lady had tears streaming down her face, ‘No. No, I am going to save you.’
‘You already did,’ I replied, ‘Éowyn, my body is broken. You have to let me go. I go to my fathers in whose mighty company I shall not now feel ashamed.’ The darkness embraced me, ‘Éowyn,’ I murmured ultimately.
Part III:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part III: Bard
I drew the bowstring to my ear and peered down the black shaft. Smaug the mighty circled in the sky, raining fiery terror down on the town of Esgaroth. Desperation for the end of the beast knawed at my heart and I was determined to pierce its armour. The Old Thrush had told me where and now I looked to the hollow on the left breast.
‘Arrow,’ I murmured, ‘Black arrow! I have saved you to the last. You have never failed me and always I have recovered you. I had you from my father and he from of old. If ever you came from the forges of the true King under the Mountain, go now and speed well!’
The great Dragon swooped even lower but with a twang the cord was loose and the arrow gone. But it missed the scales and struck the weakness and with a roar majestic Smaug the accursed fell, into the ruin if Esgaroth. Smaug was no more, but so was Lake-Town.
Part IV:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part IV: Galadriel
I amar prestar aen, han mathon ne nen, han mathon ne chae, a han noston ned 'wilith.
I saw the fall of Morgoth Bauglir, He who arose in Might. I saw the fall of Sauron Annatar, Necromancer of Dol Guldur whose dark fortress I destroyed. I guided the Ringbearer in his tasks...
The white ship upon which I stood was the first of many but on this one travelled the leaders of Gondor, Rohan and Dale. Brave men whose valour had been proved in the greatest of feats... or the noblest of sacrifices. The man Boromir, troubled he had been when last my eyes searched his soul, full of a wish to prove himself and to do the right thing. His only fear was that he knew not what the right thing was. And in the back of his mind a shadow had lurked, a threat to the Fellowship: the Ring had gnawed at his mind. Interesting that he had been called to end this darkness, to restore the world to how it once was.
The Sundering Seas roared about us and I knew it was time. Suddenly a white veil rose up in front of us, like a wall of glass. Undaunted, our ship drew closer and the waves were more and more deafening. The veil rolled back and all before us the straight road through the nothingness that separated fair Valinor from the Arda. But the road was shortening, Morgoth’s devilry was repairing the crack between the worlds and we, the peoples of freedom, had to stop it else all would fall through and it would be over, for everyone. Hours passed and still we travelled the straight road, flying through the nothing. And then another veil appeared on the horizon but it was grey and the curtain rolled back to allow us into a world of rain and all that was fair and beautiful had been taken by Morgoth’s darkness.
We had returned to the once fair Arda but it was changed. Slowly the craft of the elves sailed towards the mainland: the western shores of Middle-Earth, but they were aflame and I looked in tears for what was causing this devastation and there, in the skies circled Fell Beasts, Morgoth’s servants.
‘Valar varyamë,’ I murmured in Quenya: Valar protect us...
Part V:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part V: The Grey Havens
We passed into the Gulf of Lune and soon the Grey Havens came into sight. But as we drew closer we saw the tall structures and fair architecture was in ruins, flames licked the walls, scorched the stone and suffocated the inhabitants. Their bodies lay blackened on the ground in the streets, showing where they had tried to escape to safety. The murderers still hovered in the sky and, enraged, Bard notched an arrow to his bow and pulled back the string.
A Fell Beast separated from the flock and descended swiftly towards us. Bard peered down the shaft and waited for his target. A minute passed and then he loosed the shaft and it vanished into the distance. A moment later it struck its target in the eye, the great creature pulled back with an ear-splitting screech. After loosing another arrow he turned to face the pier.
Boromir was the first to disembark; he drew his sword and looked cautiously around before saying, ‘We’re alone, save for them.’ He glanced upwards where the beasts still circled in the sky like giant vultures waiting for a feast. ‘Why don’t they attack?’
‘He cannot come near land until the year 2990 for only then will the power of the Valar be lost,’ Galadriel answered, ‘Come, we must go to the Shire.’
‘What is there?’ Théoden asked.
‘Everything,’ was her reply.
And so they made their way carefully through the ruined city. The first few minutes passed peacefully but then a fell voice reached them and the ground quaked. Suddenly Bard cried out as the earth beneath his feet was pushed up by something trying to escape imprisonment beneath the soil. They retreated to a wall and watched as, not one, but hundreds of lumps formed and exploded, spattering the companions with earth. Most worrying was what lay under the ground: skeletal figures with elf-like ears and green skin hanging of torn muscle: once they could have been call Orcs but now they were dead, slain in battle, their wounds still showing and each one unmistakeably alive. Orcish Zombies.
‘What the?’ Bard stuttered.
‘Run!’ Galadriel shouted and they obeyed, Boromir and Théoden leading them with Bard watching their backs. At the head the warriors of Gondor and Rohan were cutting a path through the undead, their numbers were unceasing and flesh wounds did not seem to kill them. All of a sudden a group of undead seized the Elf and dragged her aside, a hordes of creatures jumped on the men and for a moment all seemed lost. Then, from Galadriel, there came a white light which froze everything in its tracks then exploded in a blast of air and freed they were back to running and cleaving.
The group reached the edge of the city and there the hordes of zombies ceased save for those that came from behind. Galadriel ushered the companions to proceed without her and reluctantly they obeyed. They ran on and looked back to see white light illuminating the buildings of Mithlond.
Part VI:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part VI: Hobbiton
On eighth day since they left the ruins of the Grey Havens, the untroubled fertile fields and grassy green lawns of the Halflings came into the traveller’s sights. It was a strange sight amidst the unpopulated – and therefore pitch black – lands of the Far Downs and Tower Hills. Lanterns lined the roads and fires guarded the doors of the Hobbit holes.
But first they had to avoid the guards: two, surprisingly well equipped, young but strong hobbits who did not lack in intelligence. Boromir spoke first, lying that they had arranged a meeting with someone, a Baggins, but the guards laughed at him, “Those Baggins haven’t had anything to do with outsiders since the Old Days, go back whence you came from.”
Galadriel stepped forwards and the hobbits stepped back alarmed at her powerful aura but she smiled and said in Quenya, ‘The hour is nigh, the Darkness has come and the free peoples will gather. The Earth will begin at the End.’
And as if they were the password the guards nodded – briskly and nervously, those words stirred something in their minds – and then they stood aside. They continued into the Shire which had remained untouched by man for centuries.
The party walked the quickest they had done since they left Mithlond; between there and the Shire it had been darkness but in light they made good speed. They reached the Green Dragon in an hour yet it was always the peak hour there, the group settled at a table whilst Boromir fetched some drinks – Galadriel doing without.
‘Black Sheep,’ Boromir announced handing Bard and Théoden a full mug of dark beer.
‘So what are we doing here?’ Théoden asked.
‘Waiting for the others,’ Galadriel replied, giving little away.
‘When will they arrive?’
‘Tomorrow.’
Théoden looked out the window and said in an undertone, ‘But when is tomorrow?’
Chapter II: The Second Ship
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part I:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part I: Gimli
‘Argh! Let them come! There is one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!’ I growled, standing on the tomb of Balin; the door to the chamber was shaking under the pressure of all the Goblins desperate to get in but it was guarded by a few flimsy tools of ancient days.
With a crash the doors parted and the beasts were pouring in, I loosed an axe into the crown of a distant enemy and leapt off the tomb to strike my second axe into the abdomen of a goblin. There were shrieks all around me and, with a strong desire for revenge, I silenced the noise makers. I cleaved a foe in two and saw a great mass enter the room: a troll, ‘Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!’ I cried and rushed to engage it.
*
After the victory at Helm’s Deep and the fall of Saruman, the peoples of Rohan were celebrating in the heart of Medusel.
‘No pauses, no spills,’ Éomer announced to me and the elf, placing several mugs of beer on the table before us.
‘And no regurgitation,’ I added with a chuckle.
‘So it's a drinking game?’
‘Aye, Last one standing wins,’ I laughed again at the elf’s naivety and his chances. With that said I down my tankard and seized another whilst Legolas took an uncertain sip.
Many drinks later it seemed a good idea to say a few things, it certainly felt the time. ‘Here, here. It's the dwarves that go swimming with little hairy women.’ I chuckled, burped and took another long draught. Meanwhile the elf was examining his fingers.
‘I feel something,’ he said worriedly, ‘A slight tingling in my fingers. I think it's affecting me.’
Éomer looked at the elf with a surprised expression, ‘What did I say?’ I announced quite confidently, ‘He can’t hold his liquor!’
And I remember no more.
Part II:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part II: Legolas
Rain fell on the battlements of Helm’s Deep.
In a moment of madness, for I knew not if it would succeed, I picked up a discarded Uruk shield and hurled it at the ground. Swiftly, I pursued it and jumped on the moving surface so I and the shield crashed down the short flight of stairs.
I swiftly notched and released a series of shafts from my bow and jumped from the shield so that it collided with the throat of an Uruk-Hai. I drew my whitest knives and slashed them across a foe’s breast, counting each kill: ‘fifteen.’
Part III:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part III: The Hobbits
Content coming soon (it's just another pointless flashback)
Part IV:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part IV: The Windswept Ruins
Legolas stared intently at the fire breathing demons that circled in the sky above the docks. ‘Fell beasts of Morgoth,’ he announced to his companions.
‘And ashore?’ Gimli asked hopefully for he could not kill any airborne beasts.
‘Something stirs in the soil,’ the elf replied in his mystic manner.
‘Good, my axe shall be bloodied once more!’
Peregrin Took sat nervously by the mast watching the fire lit shores grow closer. ‘How did we get into all this Merry?’
Laughing Meriadoc Brandybuck replied, ‘A shortcut to Mushrooms.’ They chuckled warmly as Hobbits did and Pippin spoke of his recurring wish for pipeweed. Legolas walked over to them, ‘Stay close, wield your blades well’ he said, ‘and you shall taste your beloved leaf and see the Shire once more.’
‘We’re going to the Shire? Will we see Frodo? And Sam? And Old Bilbo?’
‘Yes to the Shire but I doubt we will see them yet. We are going to the Green Dragon-’
‘And I hope they serve good drinks,’ Gimli added.
*
Arrows protruding from its breast, a fell beast plummeted from the sky, landing on and crushing several buildings and a great dust cloud swept from the devastation.
Coughing, the group disembarked with the sound of scraping steel as they readied their swords; the ground was shaking again.
The undead emerged thin and coated in soil; one launched itself at Pippin but was caught mid-flight by an arrow. ‘One,’ Legolas counted.
‘Like that is it? Baruk Khazâd!’ Gimli roared, decapitating two creatures, ‘Khazâd ai-mênu! Two!’ And they sprinted through the main street.
Merry and Pippin stayed between their companions, avoiding the fray, but attacking with forgotten skill when anything came close enough. Finally at the city entrance Legolas came to a halt, ‘Sixteen.’
Gimli, who was at the rear of the party, stopped, panting, and announced a score one less, Legolas laughed and in reply Gimli turned and hurled an axe into the crown of a pursuing undead, it cracked audibly. ‘Sixteen.’
Chapter III: The Hunters and the Hunted
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part I:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part I: The Green Dragon
A bitter breeze wafted into the tavern and behind it the door slammed shut.
‘Ah this looks more like it!’ Gimli said appreciably.
‘Home,’ Pippin said and rushed to the bar where he ordered some pints (pint-sized beverages had been introduced to Hobbits in the early Fourth Age).
‘Peregrin Took!’ shouted a voice and the hobbit turned to see a man he knew should be dead:
‘Boromir!’ Pippin exclaimed and rushed over to the resurrected man.
When the greetings were said and they all were seated, Galadriel began to speak, ‘Now that we are all here, let us discuss what is to come and why we are here in the first place: The year is 2989 of the Fourth Age and, as predicted long ago, the darkest lord Melkor, Morgoth Bauglir, has returned and destroyed the Sun, Moon and Stars. His old servant Sauron will most likely return as will every demon he ever enslaved.
‘And now we have returned to defend this fair planet against the war that is soon to come. As the first, we are to unite the people but will be hindered, we are outnumbered. We here alone have a year to unite all before Morgoth can stand once more on the green grass of Middle-Earth but already Sauron’s nine are abroad and will hunt us, they outnumber us but in small numbers we can stay hidden.’
At that moment the drinkers in the tavern fell silence and turned to face the door as, from somewhere far away – but within the outskirts of the town – a long, shrill, bloodcurdling screech broke the air like a Morgul blade through flesh.
‘Was that..?’ Pippin stuttered, his voice weak.
Galadriel nodded, ‘The Nine are here.’
Part II:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part II: The Circle of Doom
It had lain on the outskirts of Hobbiton for millennia and no-one knew why: a circle of erect stones that were said to have been built by the Gods. Each vertical stone was topped with a horizontal one which rested on the stone and its neighbours, some more curious of Hobbits had noted that, once a year, on the 1st of Lithe (what is in later days the 21st of June), the rising sun casts a beam of light directly through the space between two outer stones and onto the stone in the heart of the circle: the altar stone.
Now, as the seven Heroes sat discussing the events to come in the cosy Green Dragon, a shrill shriek echoed across the lands from the heart of the henge of stone and nine riders, robed in black, on steeds bred in hell, galloped from the ring and the hunt had begun.
Part III:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part III: The Chase to the Brandywine Bridge
The road was not easy as the borrowed steeds bore them uneasily in the darkness. Théoden led them for he alone could tame his horse and beside him rode Merry who guided the former King.
‘In all your tales you made me wish to see these lands and yet now that I have the chance they are shrouded in darkness, the torches at least give some idea of their beauty. Ah this must be one of your houses.’ They had rounded a corner and a circular hobbit door had come into view. ‘You like your gardens.’
‘And our pipeweed sire,’ Merry said, puffing out a breath of smoke from his pipe. ‘Should we not be hurrying?’
‘No, we are safe in the firelight and so long as we don’t make too much of a disturbance we shall not be seen. These riders have no Ring to pursue and so their other senses must suffice and in this darkness what can they see?’
Merry nodded, unconvinced. Suddenly a shriek shattered the silence and Legolas looked back, ‘They are here!’ he called and, picking up torches from the roadside, they galloped ahead into the darkness.
The party road hard for many miles, slowing down frequently so the hobbits on their small ponies could catch up; finally, by the Brandywine Bridge, they stopped and decided to rest for the night.
‘Extinguish the torches but prepare firewood in case we need a fire,’ Boromir said, dismounting.
-
Pippin did not sleep well, he kept jumping at the breaking of a twig or the sound of a bird. It’s only a fox, he told himself frequently but it never reassured him. Snap! Another branch snapped and Pippin jumped to his feet after three more broke. He rushed over to Boromir and urged him to wake up, only when the man heard the worried words, ‘there’s something here!’ did he wake fully.
Pippin went to light the fire and soon it was ablaze revealing several dark figures, in an instant he cried, ‘AWAKE! FEAR! FIRE! FOES! AWAKE!’
Boromir seized his sword and lunged at the approaching Ringwraith, steel clashed and Boromir was barely able to parry the enemy’s blows. Théoden rushed to his aid and slammed a burning stick in its hidden face. With a shriek it was gone – for the moment.
The other Heroes were on their feet armed themselves but for now their enemies had scattered. They mounted swiftly, Boromir and Théoden held back though to keep the Nazgûl at bay. ‘Hurry,’ Galadriel called back, ‘you cannot fall.’
Boromir turned to face the darkness and picked up a fresh torch, ‘The fire will not last long,’ he warned. Suddenly a Ringwraith fell upon Théoden and Boromir brought his sword down on the wraith’s neck, it impacted on something but did not pass through. The foe turned to Boromir and attacked him with devastating strength. Boromir managed to push the Ringwraith back but now they were surrounded by the Nine. ‘We’re trapped,’ Théoden said, stating the obvious, ‘and the fire is only embers.’
Suddenly someone came out of the darkness bearing sword and flame. The person struck the Nazgûl from behind and they ran off shrieking but Boromir did not fail to notice the blood pouring from one of their wounds.
The newcomer came into the dying firelight and sheathed her sword, Théoden’s face betrayed shock whilst Boromir’s showed appreciation.
‘I am Alwé,’ she said, ‘I am seeking a journey south – to Gondor, I have a message for the King’ she looked into Boromir’s eyes, ‘as are you.’ She spoke with a fair voice that knew light, joy and sorrow, was around 29 with piercing blue eyes and had a pure, beautiful complexion; her long dark hair contrasted perfectly with her pale skin. ‘I will help you find your companions, I know these lands and more than what those hobbits know. There is danger at every bend, the Barrow-Wights roam freely, there are Trolls once more in the lands near Imladris and wolves everywhere else. Nature is turning against man and the world is ending!’ Suddenly she broke and her voice despaired, ‘what can we do against the darkness when the world is doomed to die?’ She shook herself and whistled, and from the darkness came a tall, black stallion with a mane of jet. She jumped onto it and led the two men into the eternal darkness.
Part IV:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part IV: Alwé
Across the Brandywine Bridge the lights of houses pierced the darkness and towards these Alwé led them. Her steed snorted loudly and she glanced back, ‘They are still close, hurry.’
They broke into a gallop, passing south by the river’s edge. An hour passed and they moved towards the sleepy village of Crickhollow, the lights were out and they made their way unconfidently towards the lone gate in the Hedge which still acted as a fence against the forest. There gathered the remaining Heroes, who greeted Alwé with confusion.
The gate slammed shut behind the party as they entered the Old Forest.
‘Swords out, there are demons in the forest,’ Alwé warned and Legolas and Gimli exchanged doubtful glances.
‘Something just moved on that tree!’ Pippin exclaimed suddenly aiming his torch towards his vision which had vanished conveniently.
They continued deeper into the forest with the Hobbits frequently jumping at shadows. They reached Bonfire Glade and stopped, ‘Can we stop here?’ Bard asked, exhausted.
Boromir looked to Alwé who nodded, ‘Keep a fire alight.’
*
The party fell asleep quickly and no breaking twigs disturbed them but Boromir awoke early and saw Alwé tending to the fire, adding fresh wood to fuel it. He moved over to sit beside her and for a few minutes they sat silent watching the flames flicker.
‘Why are you with us? What happened?’
Alwé looked thoughtfully at Boromir and said simply, ‘They betrayed us.’
‘Who?’
‘The tribes from Forodwaith, the cold-dwellers, the Helegwaith. We gave them land and peace and then... they betrayed us all and all of Angmar is aflame once more. A new power is rising their and it worships Melkor. They attacked our city – Annúminas – raped the women, murdered the men, threw the children from the walls, killed everyone except me.’
‘You escaped?’
‘No,’ she replied bitterly, clenching her pale fist, ‘They caught me early, “spared” me, then raped my mother before my eyes and slit my father’s throat. And when it was all over they released me and gave me a message to give to the King of Gondor.’ She stood up, tears in her eyes, ‘And do you know what the worst thing is? That I gave up, I should have fought, I should have killed the bastards!’
Boromir stood up, ‘You were frightened, you were trapped, there’s nothing you could have done.’ She nodded, wiping droplets from her eyes, then sat down. Silence resumed.
Several minutes passed and Alwé, her eyes dry, looked at Boromir, ‘and what of you? Who are you, forgotten hero of years long gone by, dead for many more?’
Boromir looked into her eyes and took a breath, ‘I was the first son Denethor who was steward during the Great Siege of Minas Tirith, brother of Faramir. I was sent to Imladris where I became the ninth member of the Fellowship of the Ring. I fell at Amon Hen-’
‘Defending the Hobbits,’ Alwé finished and the son of Denethor nodded ‘that Boromir. I remember hearing the tale of your valour when I was young, a man came to court, an emissary from Gondor, my father asked him to tell a tale of “great strength and nobility” and he said he would tell a tale of his ancestor’s brother who died in the times of Sauron, and he told your tale.’
Boromir laughed and said, ‘And did he tell you of how the Ring corrupted me? Every hero has a weakness, where one is strong in body they are weak in mind. “Court” you said? Who was your father?’
‘King Alcinor of Arnor,’ Alwé replied.
Boromir smiled but then the expression was wiped from his face, ‘what was that?’
Alwé looked where her companion was pointing, ‘Demons,’ she unsheathed her sword and readied it as, climbing down a nearby tree, was a creature with green skin and glowing yellow eyes, ‘What is it?’ Boromir asked.
‘A form of Goblin some say, like forests where there is thick shade from the Sun.’
And suddenly they were surrounded by the beasts, crawling on four legs as fast as a dog; one jumped at Boromir who rose his sword and cleaved it in two. Alwé had her sword at the ready and swung it through the incoming hordes of creatures with devastating skill. Everyone else was awake and they formed a circle around the fire and horses, even the hobbits battled the goblins for they were easy foes but great in number.
‘There are too many!’ Théoden cried as the hordes kept on coming.
It was when the group was wearying that, from far off in the forest, there came a voice, a voice that sang utter nonsense:‘Hey dol! merry dol! ring a dong dillo!
Ring a dong! hop along! fal lal the willow!
Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!’
Part V:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part V: In the House of Tom Bombadil
Out of the darkness came a figure, too small to be a man and yet too big to be a hobbit. He was a little portly with long, unkempt brown hair and a long beard that rested on his blue coat. His face was red and could crease into a thousand wrinkles of laughter. In his hands he carried on a large leaf as on a tray a small pile of white water-lilies – but they were dead.
‘Help!’ cried Merry and he suddenly realised the irony of the situation for it was those words that started their first meeting with the strange character.
Tom stopped his merry skipping and turned to face the trapped heroes. ‘Whoa! Whoa! Look at this! Elves, Dwarves and Men all in the Old Forest, oh come a merry dol let’s deal the damage!’ And with those words he sang a few words in a language long forgotten and the creatures fled. There was a stunned silence as all the men looked upon this strangest of strangers with utter disbelief.
‘What the?’ Bard stuttered.
*
The journey to Tom’s house was filled with the tales of the hobbit’s first encounter with their host and by the time they reached the small cottage the men knew all of Tom’s mysterious behaviour.
‘Where’s Goldberry?’ Merry asked as they entered the house.
‘Oh, she’s gone. She is away down river, staying with nature for there she must be at the End.’
‘The End?’ Pippin said.
‘The End is drawing near for us all save... two.’ He glanced in the direction of the men, paused, then turned to Galadriel. ‘My powers are weak, nature is tuning against us-’
‘“Nature is turning against man and the world is ending”’ Boromir said, looking at Alwé, ‘so you say.’
‘The Lady is right but she knows not what is to come. No-one does, only time will tell. You know you are in trouble when even the wisest do not know what is to come.’ Tom returned his attention to Galadriel, ‘as I was saying, I am powerless, I cannot even rhyme,’ he laughed, ‘I am useless on your adventure save to humour the wolves for of them there shall be many. But come! Let me not hold you all to conversation when there are beds ready. I fear though that there are too few places to sleep.’
‘I’ll be fine, Tom, I have lived rough for months,’ Alwé stated.
‘Then for that you may sleep comfortably for the first time in ages.’
Alwé, Galadriel and the two hobbits received the beds and so slept well. Dawn came and they departed the house and Tom waved goodbye, ‘Destiny,’ he murmured, ‘and the End in sight. Ahh, sleep!’
Part VI:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part VI: Darkness on the Barrow-Downs
All was a fog of impenetrable pea soup and there was something in it, alive.
‘Can you control the wights?’ Alwé asked Galadriel who shook her head, ‘Not anymore.’
The younger woman raised her sword, grasping it in both hands. Suddenly out of the darkness came something darker, a shade. It received a hard blow from Alwé’s sword and fell back, only to be reinforced by more.
‘How do we fight these things?’ Théoden asked, swinging his blade wildly.
‘You’re doing fine,’ Alwé called back.
They moved slowly, Galadriel leading with Alwé at her side. ‘What are we following?’ she asked the elf.
‘There,’ Galadriel replied pointing to something in the sky, ‘A final star, it’s Eärendil.’
Alwé looked up and saw, amidst the endless field of darkness, a single spot of starlight, silver and beautiful in the sky, it was like a symbol of hope.
From the night came a fresh wave of wights, animated skeletons wrapped in robes of darkness with armour the corpses had worn when they were buried. Alwé swung her sword and a skull fell loose and the skeleton collapsed into a mound of bones. They broke into a gallop, passing more and more of the deathly creatures. A great doorway in the hillside rose up, its mouth beckoning the travellers in but they increased their horses’ pace and charged into a wall of wraiths.
Suddenly one grabbed Merry, pulling him from his saddle; its bony fingers strangling the hobbit’s neck. Pippin swung his sword at the wight’s arm and the bone shattered from the blow. Merry came free and sat coughing on the ground whilst the warriors attacked the demons of the Witch-King with all the fury they had.
‘Their lines are thinning, quick, go!’ Théoden shouted, and they resumed the gallop towards the star.
‘The mounds are ending, look it is flatter,’ Legolas’ announcement was a relief to them all and, as the horses’ hooves clattered onto the stone paving of the Greenway, the Barrow-wights ceased their pursuit.
‘Where are we?’ Théoden asked.
‘The Greenway – the road that goes south from Bree. Now where?’ Alwé said.
‘We risk the road,’ Galadriel replied.
The party turned north and rode off into the endless night.
Part VII:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part VII: Shattered Stone
‘Here they are,’ said Pippin looking into the stone face of William the Troll.
‘Gandalf did this?’ Boromir asked appreciatively.
Pippin nodded, ‘Saved Mr Bilbo’s life, kept them arguing until dawn came.’
‘Let’s camp here,’ Merry said and they readied a fire under the stone trolls. ‘Amazing, over three millennia and they still stand.’
Nearby a twig snapped and, taking up her bow and an arrow from the quiver on her back, Alwé rose to her feet and disappeared into the trees. ‘Will she be alright?’ Bard asked, uncertainly.
‘She can take care of herself.’
‘Argh!’ someone exclaimed suddenly and Pippin pulled something from his curly hair.
‘What’s this? Stone?’ the hobbit was confused and then something struck Legolas’ back.
‘Stone and ash,’ Legolas replied, examining a fragment, ‘but where is it-’ A large dark object stuck the elf sending him flying and everyone looked towards the attacker, their faces showing utter disbelief.
*
Alwé emerged from the trees a few minutes later, struggling under the weight of a sheep. She faced a scene that would have under better circumstances made her laugh but instead she notched an arrow to the bowstring and aimed it towards the closest troll: Tom.
There was a quiet twang as the string was loosed and an arrow soared through the darkness. It struck Tom’s neck and the creature gasped, falling back with dark blood pouring from his throat. The others turned and Bert, with the agility of a sixteen-year-old, ran and leapt at Alwé. The Dúnedain rolled nimbly aside and drew her sword, striking the troll on its chest. Blood did not flow for the skin was too thick and Bert swung his arm at her, hurling her several feet so she landed on a sack which, despite giving a loud curse, broke her fall.
She drew a knife and slashed it across the sack from which emerged a disgruntled Gimli, ‘Like father, like son,’ he murmured under his breath and he picked up a dropped throwing axe and hurled it at Bert who received it in his tough skull. He collapsed, still conscious but Gimli charged over to him, narrowly missing a swipe from William’s arm.
Gimli struck Bert hard with his axe, severing the carotid artery which spewed blood onto Gimli’s clothing. Meanwhile Alwé was facing William who was searching for a moment to strike. A moment passed, each staring into the other’s eyes then suddenly Will pounced like a wolf but Alwé stepped aside, her sword outstretched and William fell upon it, cutting his abdomen where the skin was thin and his guts spilled out. Gimli brought his axe down on the troll’s neck and it was over.
They emptied the sacks and Alwé asked, through a fit of hysterics, ‘How did that even happen?’
‘Three swipes of those long arms and we were out,’ Boromir replied, clearly annoyed.
Galadriel shivered in the cold, her long hair shaken up, ‘We must go , if the stone is breaking I fear things are happening faster than first thought.’
They mounted their terrified steeds and Alwé led them towards the Ford of Bruinen.
Chapter IV: The Breaking of the Fellowship
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part I:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part I: Keeper of Knowledge
Imladris, Rivendell, City of the High Elves, was deserted, the silence was such that it was audible and to those who remembered its splendour it was unnerving. The Last Homely House dominated the valley but that too seemed uninhabited. The Heroes explored the rooms and they almost missed the sleeping figure in the Hall of Fire, it was Pippin who noticed him and went to wake the hobbit, ‘Bilbo?’
The figure stirred and was surprised at the familiar face, ‘Hullo Pippin! What are you doing here? What a pleasant surprise! And Merry too, you wouldn’t happened to have seen Frodo have you?’
Pippin shook his head, explained that they too had wondered when Frodo would make an appearance but had received no helpful reply and then asked why Bilbo was there in Rivendell.
‘Why am I here? Such a good question, the last thing I remember was those great Halls and, hearing the words “you are the Keeper of Knowledge and in Rivendell you shall share it”, I fell asleep and now I wake up here. Ah there are beings more powerful than anything we can imagine messing around with us, deciding our fate.’
‘What knowledge do you keep?’ Galadriel asked.
‘Nothing of what is to come but why was I sent?’
Pippin took a heavy book that lay on Bilbo’s lap and examined the cover, ‘The End of All Things by Bilbo Baggins, a new book Bilbo?’
‘What’s that, I never wrote... but it’s my handwriting and...’ his voice trailed off, obviously confused.
‘But the pages are blank,’ Alwé, the only stranger to Bilbo, observed.
‘They reveal their secrets only to those the keeper knows,’ Galadriel said, ‘Bilbo, will you read it?’
The hobbit nodded and moved to the first page and read:
‘“When the world is much older, and the Gods weary, Morgoth will come back through the Door, and the last battle of all will be fought. Fionwë will fight Morgoth on the plain of Valinor, and the spirit of Turin shall be beside him; it shall be Turin who with his black sword will slay Morgoth, and thus the children of Hurin shall be avenged. That done, the world will be remade and the peoples of Middle-Earth shall have peace eternal with evil gone forever.”’
Bilbo finished and reread the words, ‘They are not mine, someone else’s. Why are they here?’
‘And why do we know the end?’ Alwé asked.
‘Because we are the little people in this tale, “Turin”, “Fionwë”, they will be the victors not us, we are here to guide events, they will make them.’
‘Boromir, you speak with such disdain,’ Alwé said with an understanding smile.
Galadriel spoke: ‘We must split, the days are passing too fast, the three hobbits must stay with their people, muster them ready for the time, Bard and Legolas must go north to their people, Gimli to the Kingdoms in Khazad-dûm, then Erebor and finally to the White Mountains, Boromir, Alwé and Théoden to their peoples in the south. By the end of this year the armies of the Reunited Kingdom – the Hobbits included – must assemble on the Battle Plain of Dagorlad.’
‘What will you do?’ Théoden asked.
‘Stay here and await the return of the Hobbits, and any others that come for guidance. Then I shall accompany them to Lorien, then finally to Dagorlad.’
‘Dagorlad? Is that not tempting fate? Countless thousands died there!’ Boromir said.
Galadriel nodded and replied, ‘But we were victorious.’
Part II:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part II: South
‘The passes are closed, the Beornings no longer guard the route to Dale so be wary. The only pass is through Khazad-dûm and is far safer than the last time you went that way.’ The Lady Galadriel smiled and raised her right palm in farewell, ‘Namárië,’ she said and the three men, elf, dwarf and woman were gone into the darkness.
They travelled for over a week before the silence was broken by a shrill shriek. ‘They have come,’ Alwé said, unsurprised.
Boromir raised his torch and looked back, ‘nothing there.’ There was a moment’s pause then, ‘No... wait... goblins, lots of goblins.’
Millions of goblins, the most diminutive of the Orcish race, the black blooded creatures squealed for blood and waved their short scimitars in the air.
‘I don’t think this was our destiny!’ Bard cried out and Legolas cursed the Dark Lord.
‘Cursing won’t save us!’ Gimli roared, bringing his axe down on a close by creature, cleaving its cranium in two.
At that moment a cold, evil voice came out of the darkness and all the goblins trembled, ‘Surrender “heroes” of the west, your time is over, the time of industry and fire is come. Surrender and you shall see it.’
Boromir laughed, ‘Well it’s the only way we’re going to survive this,’ and, that said, he swung his sword down through the oncoming ranks of creatures and cried, ‘For Gondor!’
No great force could have saved them that day, not even one million valiant shield maidens of Rohan with all the strength and bravery of the Lady Éowyn. The Nazgûl would not dare to let them survive.
It was when they were weakest, that the hour of dawn came to that dark day. From the west and east simultaneously there came a light, without explanation, and it scorched across Middle-Earth like a wave of death and no troll or goblin ever moved again.
‘What was that?’ Boromir asked staring around at the stone corpses, and at the nine riders who stared back, uncertain of what to do.
‘No idea.’
From that day there was light once more.
Part III:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part III: Of the Lamps of the Fourth Age
Yavanna, Queen of the Earth, Giver of Fruits, wife of Aulë, creator of the Trees, watched and wept.
And through her tears there came about an event of which little is told: the creation of the second pair of Lamps. Here is told the tale as is written in The End of All Things and was recited most in the houses of the wise in the last days of the Fourth Age:
Fairest Ithil, golden Anor and all the silver stars lay in ruin, dissipated and cast to the Void. And in the beautiful land of Valinor the Queen of the Earth, Yavanna, saw the destruction and despaired for all was lost, the time had come, her world and all the fair things in it would cease.
And from her tears came a starlight of hope, two droplets that did not soak into the ground but grew and in that darkness they absorbed the fire of the torches and glowed with a light fuelled by the goddess. The two drops of light rose until they were as high as Yavanna’s eyes and she understood. Taking two lanterns from her desk she encased the droplets and the lanterns glowed with a light that did not flicker like fire nor fade into embers but roared ceaselessly like the Sun once did.
And in memory of Anor she placed one lamp in the west and set the second lamp in the east, in memory of Ithil, and there they hovered in the sky until the world would come crashing down. But as they were set the lights went out and, fearing all was lost, Yavanna ran across the Arda into the darkest recesses and there she stays until the end of time.
But as the hour that was once dawn came to Middle-Earth the Lamps glowed anew and gave forth a great light that blinded the peoples as it arose and every Troll and Goblin, foulest spawn of Morgoth Bauglir, was petrified and were, ever after, as stone.
And from that day there was light once more.
Part IV:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part IV: West
Bilbo raised his torch and peered into the darkness ahead, ‘I can’t see a thing,’ he said.
Behind him Pippin replied, ‘Will it ever end?’
‘The Book says so,’ Bilbo answered, ‘There are a few, more detailed, pages after that, “Of the Lamps of the Fourth Age” describes how Yavanna will create light once more for us.’
‘Who is Yavanna?’
‘A god, more than that I do not know.’
‘Hurry up you two,’ Merry shouted back.
It was the over a week since they left Rivendell and they expected to cross the River Brandywine that day. To the south, only a few feet away, the dark leaves of the Old Forest stretched out towards the nervous travellers on their ponies. ‘I don’t like this,’ Pippin murmured and somewhere a wolf howled, ‘I really don’t like this.’
Two eyes, yellow and glowing, appeared amongst the trees, a loud growl met the hobbits. Merry pulled out his knife and his companions followed suit, Bilbo’s remained reassuringly grey.
Suddenly a large wolf jumped from the undergrowth, pulling Pippin from the saddle by its sharp teeth. Merry leapt upon the wolf, stabbing his knife into the creature’s heart, as it tried to sink its teeth into Pippin’s flesh. The wolf yelped and rolled aside and the hobbits mounted their ponies.
‘Quickly, the bridge can’t be far!’ Bilbo yelled, spurring his steed forwards. Two more pale eyes appeared on the road ahead and, before the hobbits considered charging the creature, many more appeared. The horses reared, almost throwing the riders, as a series of howls rang in the air.
Then, all of a sudden, from over the distant mountains of mist and from over the hills of the Towers, a great light, like the rising Sun, rose high and burnt all under its rays.
The wolves howled once more, backed off... then returned with their sharp teeth gleaming in the new light.
And they returned with far greater numbers...
Chapter V: The Mansion of the Dwarves
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part I:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part I: The Watcher in the Water
Gimli looked at the stone face of Khazad-dûm’s western gate and sighed, ‘It is with great pride that I look upon the halls of my people once more.’
‘Would that my lands be as fair as yours,’ Legolas said beside him.
Maybe it was to spite the words of the elf or to spite the work of the dwarves who had greatly beautified the area, but both aims were successful. It rose from the depths of the lake that, during the darkness, had grown black and evil and the being that had been thought dead arose once more.
As the six Heroes stood on the edge of the black lake a long dark tentacle snaked along the pebbles and with a flick it was around Gimli’s ankles and dragging him into the water. As the small figure cried out unspeakable curses Legolas released a series of arrows into the tentacle before Bard could fire one. The tentacle, weakened, came loose, as did the dwarf and the creature surfaced, displaying its mighty jaws and welcoming meat.
Legolas took up another arrow and aimed for the beast’s eye; a second later with a whoosh the shaft shot through the air and stuck a tree trunk. Bard laughed and peered down his own black shaft, ‘Fly well,’ he whispered and let go.
The black arrow soared through the sky, flew between two outstretched tentacles, and pierced the creature’s cornea. As dark blood seeped from its eye socket the beast shuddered and flailed its tentacles, smashing the stonework around the lake. Gimli roared at the devastation and jumped at the beast, axe held high. It came down hard on the creatures jaw, cracking it in half, and the beast could take no more, disappearing under the water, a strong tentacle taking the dwarf with it.
Part II:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part II: Slinker or Stinker?Legolas abandoned all sense, diving into the deep, freezing lake.
The icy waters gripped him in an iron grip but he resisted, pushing against the waves. Ahead a great black mass delved deeper and this sight spurred the elf on. A long black tentacle hit his cheek and Legolas seized it and used it to pull himself deeper, and deeper and deeper until a dark figure, grasped by another long feeler, swam into his vision.
Legolas drew his knives and with one unsteady stroke severed the limb in two. The figure of Gimli drifted away from the creature and the elf grasped his friend and pushed them upwards, towards the light.
Suddenly a tentacle struck the elf with overwhelming strength and all went black.
*
‘Oh my head!’ Legolas moaned, looking around. He sat on a ledge of rock in a dark pit illuminated only by a fierce golden glow from high above. The ledge was beside a deep, bottomless abyss filled with water and presumably connected to the Black Lake outside. ‘How do we get out of here?’ the elf asked the conscious dwarf beside him.
‘And how did we get here in the first place if you were knocked cold?’ Gimli rose unsteadily to his feet and stared into the water, nothing stared back. ‘Do we climb out?’
I guess it’s the only way,’ Legolas replied, grasping the stone wall with a hand. Suddenly a splash behind him made him whip around, his knives unsheathed and, when he saw the strange creature before him, he kept them raised, ‘What in Illúvatar’s name..?’
‘Awakesses are they, preciouss?’ the creature hissed.
‘Gollum!’ Gimli roared, raising his axe.
‘No!’ it screamed, raising its bony hands, ‘do not dwell in the passst! Don’t hurtsss us! I am not Gollum, I am one and alone in the darksses, jussst Sméagol, don’t harm Sméagol, what did Sméagol ever do to you?’
Gimli stayed his axe and Legolas even sheathed his blades. On that day it was certainly pity once again, no matter what evil tales they had heard, and also there was something else, perhaps brought on by those days of evil: a feeling of trust for this creature had been sent to Middle-Earth, the question was: by who, Illúvatar or Melkor?
‘Sméagol is here to helpsses the Heroes of Light, I wondersss why but does not assksss, never assksss. Sméagol will follow and aid, if he is treated as Sméagol deserves... I was the one that died with the Preciousss, Preciousss would be around ssstill if it weren’t for Sméagol.’
The creature went on and either he was trying to shut it up or he was telling the truth but Legolas said, ‘Alright but you do anything suspicious and it will be over!’
They began to climb, Sméagol leading them...
Part III:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part III: The Black Pit
Twice Gimli lost his grip on the rock face and dangled before Sméagol helped him and so when they reached the peak of the abyss the dwarf was irritated and tired, then he saw something that struck the fear of Illúvatar into him:
There had been a golden glow of light and now Gimli saw exactly what was the source of it. There were hundreds of the demons, smaller than their father but still as evil, each shrouded in darkness with manes of fire and swords and whips that were aflame.
‘Durin’s bane a thousand times! All is lost, the world will crumble and all be scorched under the Balrogs’ march to war and ruin and death!’ Gimli’s loud despairing echoed in the Black Pit and the creatures of fire turned in unison towards the source.
The roar that ensued was deafening, the earth literally shook, stone plummeted from the ceiling, crushing some creatures. Gimli was rooted to the spot and the beasts were approaching. The Balrogs were fortunately young for, had they been elder, they would have had powers that no dwarf or elf could withstand. Legolas shot into one nine arrows to the heart at which point a searing light came from the creatures breast and it fell to the ground, smouldering.
Seeing the fall of one beast Gimli ran forwards, leaping agilely into the air and bringing the axe down on the cranium of a beast. His victim roared and flung the dwarf aside, the axe had only cut through skin.
A Balrog suddenly leapt at Legolas, knocking him to the ground and so the two were trapped, flaming swords raised above their heads.
Part IV:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part IV: The Endless Stair
‘So the Black Lake connects to that cave system?’
‘All the caves connect young woman,’ the large (sideways that is) dwarf said.
Alwé looked down into the abyss, a golden glow stared back. She heard one word: Help. ‘They’re down there.’
‘How do you know?’ Bard asked.
‘I just do!’ Alwé snapped, ‘Now, is there any way down there?’
‘Yes: Durin’s Tower.’
Alwé looked hard at the dwarf’s expression then, deciding he was being serious, asked, ‘It has been discovered?’
‘And rebuilt,’ the dwarf replied smugly, ‘I can lead you to the Endless Stair.’
‘Then do so fast for time is running out – for those people and this whole world!’ and saying that Alwé mounted her steed and dragged the portly figure up in front of her. ‘Run, Arcelé, show us speed.’
Her horse heard her words and obeyed and the little dwarf screamed. Alwé’s hair was flowing like a river behind her as she asked her companion his name, the dwarf gasped a reply: ‘Burfur.’
They sped onwards, through carved halls and busy streets but amongst the blur of the populace Alwé saw something else: soldiers and lots of them. ‘Turn left here!’ came Burfur’s cry and Alwé passed on the order; they swerved into an alley and were confronted by a group of armed guards.
A split second’s decision and Alwé charged through them before they had time to protest her presence. They passed through the doorway that was being guarded and were now twisting down an endless flight of stairs.
But its name was undeserving for it stopped at the roots of the earth. And now the full horror of their situation showed and Alwé swallowed in fear whilst Burfur gave a cry of despair: ‘Durin’s bane!’
He was wrong for that beast was long since slain but in front of them towered a demon of a height that showed it was an Elder, Alwé’s tall steed almost reached the height of the demon’s ankle.
Alwé dismounted and calmly told Burfur and Arcelé to retreat up the staircase for help. More than that would be needed.
She stared up at the might of the Balrog and trembled in utter fear. The demon smelt this and roared but its opponent held firm, her sword ready to meet its.
There was a clash of fire and steel as the sword of Alwé met that of Gothmog.
‘This wasn’t in the dream,’ she said as fire raged above her.
Part V:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part V: The Stand of Alwé
Alwé struggled under the pressure of the great Balrog’s blade, her strength was dwindling and the heat was unbearable. Desperately she tried to summon more strength from her weakening body and she pushed back the fiery blade and swiftly rolled under it so that she stood between the creature’s legs.
She knelt and suddenly time halted, literally. Above her the demon searched for its prey but to the west, where the cavern disappeared into the distance, Alwé saw a white cloud of light enshrouding a tall but slender figure who seemed to be between dimensions. And as she looked, Alwé saw that the cloud around the figure had stretched out to cover her, to protect her. Her danger overwhelmed her curiosity though and Alwé swung her sword at a point above the Balrog’s left ankle, skin broke and blood, not unlike lava, flowed from the wound. Time had resumed and desperately the woman slashed and hacked at her opponent until, miraculously, the bones of its lower leg shattered. Why she could only guess and she thanked her blade that was of days long gone, of the First Age her father had said though she believed otherwise.
But as the beast’s bones broke Alwé faced another threat and dived out of the path of the falling demon. The earth shook as Gothmog fell but then something happened which occurred without explanation: Gothmog rose to his feet, his left leg as steady as its grip on its whip which suddenly lashed out, seizing Alwé around her knees and dragged her to a position in front of the demon’s glowing eyes.
And then there was an explosion of light and water as the words of the shrouded figure echoed in the cavern: ‘Nîn o Moria, lasto beth daer, Rimmo nîn Moria dan en Balrog o Morgoth!’ A great wave charged towards the demon of Melkor and smashed upon it like water on rock.
But the fires were extinguished and steaming the Balrog looked back down the cave and saw the figure and roared, its whip released its prisoner and a soaked Alwé fell to the ground, apparently unconscious.
The figure halted a few feet from Gothmog and stared into the eyes of his foe. ‘Be gone, demon of darkness, your time is at its end as will be your master’s.’ That said the figure drew his shining sword and leapt at the demon, piercing its chest, but then the demon retaliated hurling the figure to the ground with a swipe of its mighty fist. The Demon raised its extinguished blade above the figures elf and roared, not in pleasure but in pain for Alwé, Dúnedain of Arnor, had jumped upon the crouched creature’s back and pierced it where there were no ribs but was instead the demon’s great heart.
The Balrog roared and rose to its full height, throwing Alwé to the ground. The figure jumped once again, his sword piercing the heart of the beast once more.
His task complete he dropped to the ground and ran from beneath the demon’s falling corpse.
Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, Son of Melkor, was slain.
Part VI:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part VI: Reunion
‘Alwé! Alwé!’ Slowly the Dúnedain regained consciousness and the first thing she saw was the figure’s fine elven face.
‘How do you know my name?’ she asked bluntly the elf as she rose to her feet unsteadily.
‘You are destined for at things Alwé, and I – as a fellow Hero – was informed of your identity.’
‘Me?’ Alwé asked bemusedly.
‘Yes,’ the elf said then paused and added, ‘Prophet.’
Alwé smiled for he knew of her talent, ‘Who are you?’
The elf smiled in return and answered, ‘Glorfindel, High Elf of Gondolin.’
Alwé’s jaw dropped.
*
Legolas acknowledged the fact that something was happening elsewhere, what else would cause the demons to scatter like startled sparrows?
It was a few minutes since the beasts fled, as he tried to revive, Gimli that the elf saw a group of people approaching from down the cavern. He notched an arrow to his bow and waited for them to come into full view. But then he replaced the arrow as he recognised the Heroes.
Beside him Sméagol grinned and said, ‘Destiny, preciousss.’
Part VII:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part VII:The Great Battle of Khazad-dûm
Boromir sat down in the Dwarrowdelf with his fellow heroes, all save Gimli who was taking command of his race. ‘I don’t believe these dwarves,’ the Gondorian said, looking at Legolas, ‘did they say it to me on purpose?’
‘What?’
‘If their numbers dwindle too low they will retreat to the Chamber of Marzabul where they “shall do battle with troll and goblin alike but keep away from skeletons in the well”.’
Legolas laughed remembering their first adventure in Moria.
Suddenly there came a shout from the tunnel that had been vacated due to the enemy invasion, a young dwarf rushed into the Dwarrowdelf, screaming that “the demons were coming”.
All 400,000 heads turned towards the passageway from which there now issued an orange glow. There was a great clamour as the army assembled and the Heroes of Light moved to the front where Gimli waited impatiently for the enemy. Now there was silence as everybody waited for the inevitable and, with the shrieks of goblins, it came.
Shadows flickered in the golden glow and then their casters appeared, diminutive but vicious. They fell under arrow and axe fire but their numbers were too great and they clashed into the army of light like water on rocks. The dwarves pushed the creatures back effortlessly and their losses were nonexistent for their armour was thick and their shields broad. The heroes struggled little as well for their resurrection had given them far greater stamina. Boromir and Théoden stood foremost among the enemy such was their eagerness to demonstrate their valour; but meanwhile Alwé was still weary from her combat with Gothmog and she held back, she knew her sword would not truly be needed until the real demons came. Glorfindel stood amidst a ring of corpses, his elven skill showing as his fine blade swished smoothly and gracefully through the air.
Suddenly the earth quaked and from down the tunnel there came the sound of drums, a dwarf cried out in fear, ‘They are coming!’ and then into the room poured a hoard of Balrogs, shrouded in fire and darkness and wielding swords and shields of flame. Alwé gripped her sword tighter and knew this was when her sword was needed most. And so fire and Mithril clashed in a mêlée that would be remembered until the end of Dwarven days.
Gimli roared and hewed the goblin before him in half then kicked aside its broken body. A Balrog rose up, casting fear into its enemies and friends as a raging inferno engulfed it, it brought down its sword upon the only dwarf not to cower and sparks flew as it was parried. Strength fuelled into his block, Gimli darted backwards so that his foe’s weapon fell to the ground, instantly he brought his axe down on the arm of the demon and flaming blood spurted from the wound. The dwarf was covered in it and cried out for it scolded him like boiling water. As the demon recoiled Gimli ran before it and brought his axe into the beast’s abdomen, crying out in agony his foe fell, crushing some fleeing goblins beneath it. Gimli finished it off with a blow to its neck and looked for the next demon of Melkor.
Glorfindel swiped his sword through a goblin’s throat and rushed to faced a large Balrog that was approaching slowly, searching for easy prey. It saw the elf come within its reach and hurled its whip at the elf’s ankles. Glorfindel dived aside, his blade gliding through the hamstring of the demon; there by its leg he halted and twirled his blade above his head as only elves can, blood sprayed from the wounds, spattering the elf’s fine armour. Glorfindel jumped nimbly and grasped the demon’s shoulder where it was cool, with a slash of his sword blood was pouring from a deep wound in the back of the beast. There was a roar and then it could no longer fight, it collapsed in a cloud of dust and Glorfindel finalised its demise.
Sméagol’s days of hiding were over, the precious was gone and there was nothing he could do to reclaim it. He dived onto the back of large goblin and effortlessly broke its neck then ran on all fours in pursuit of another. In a leap he brought the creature to the ground and he wrapped his bony arms around its throat and squeezed it until it suffocated. Satisfied Sméagol saw a troll next and, trusting his good fortune, ran behind the clumsy creature. But a leap onto the back of this beast did not fell it for it was too strong and instead it plucked Sméagol from its back and examined him for a moment. Sméagol, unhappy about his treatment, thrust a dangling leg at the creatures face and rather fortunately managed to jab the beast in one of its eyes with a toe. The troll roared and hurled poor Sméagol to the ground who rolled to absorb the fall and turned with anger to face the creature. Another leap and he was hanging tightly onto the troll’s skull and sinking his teeth into its flesh. Another roar and the troll raised its sharp club and smashed it at Sméagol. Blood spurted from deep wounds caused by the many spikes on the club and Sméagol laughed in glee as he watched the troll topple. How could a beast be so stupid as to hit itself like that? Still laughing manically, Sméagol ran and attacked another goblin.
Théoden grimaced at the work of the sword but still fought well. His breastplate of Rohan was spattered red and his sword had lost its silver. He brought it down hard on a goblins neck and a head rolled aside. Suddenly a demon rose up above him and he dived aside as a flaming blade threatened his own throat. The former King of Rohan turned and ducked under another swing but this time he swiped his sword up through the air and through the Balrog’s smouldering arm. It stepped back, blood gushing out of the limb as if it was a fountain. Théoden gave one final thrust of his sword into his foe and its life was seeping away like its blood was into the cracks in the stone.
Boromir decapitated the goblin before him and another took its place, threatening him with a spear. The Gondorian seized the shaft of the polearm and dragged it from his foe’s grip before impaling it on his sword. A shadow was cast upon him and he retreated from the approaching Balrog raising the stolen spear above his head. The demon suddenly roared and Boromir took a breath before hurling his spear at the beast, skewering it in its breast. With a bellow of agony the demon crashed to the ground, dead.
In the distance Boromir saw Alwé surrounded by foes and he called out as he saw her fall from view. Desperately he carved a path to the Dúnedain who he found lying barely conscious due to exhaustion on the ground. He offered her a hand and she took it pulling her to her feet.
‘You need to rest,’ he said, pointing out the obvious and she disappeared into the ranks of dwarves. Boromir turned, raised his sword and cried, ‘For Gondor!’
Part VIII:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Part VIII: Exodus
The foes had fled, their bodies and blood stained the stone, the Great Battle of Khazad-dûm was over.
Gothmog should have led them and had he done so things may have been different. As the dwarves cheered though Gimli was silent, he knew what he had to do and he knew that it did not matter. He called for silence and called to his companions, his kin:
‘Khazâd! It is a great victory that has been won here today, the Dwarves have their revenge!
‘And yet this is no time for celebration. The fate of this world is in the hands of every being, fair and foul; I call now for your aid, your axes and shields, your courage... your lives... This hour is one to remember but if we do not fight again we will have naught to remember for this fair world will be gone.
‘This is the Eve of our Doom, for when this year ends the new one shall come and with it shall be the Dark Lord Melkor and all his servants. There was in history Dagor Vedui, the Battle said to end all, its numbers were exaggerated, the tales say of a million free-peoples fought for their lives. The decade to come will be far worse. Every dwarf, elf, man, hobbit, is destined to meet all the spawn of Morgoth on the Battle Plain of Dagorlad and only united shall we be victorious else we shall fall.
‘This is an hour of misery for every one of us for we must leave behind this fair home and fight. I, Gimli son of Gloin, Hero of Light, call now for an Exodus from our fairest Mansion... either way it will be in ruins when next they invade.’ Gimli turned away, a single tear in his eye.
*
The following day the wildlife of Azanulbizar saw a strange sight as a great host of Dwarves emerged from the Eastern Door of Khazad-dûm. They passed, with the appearance of mourners, down into the lower lands, passing the forest of the elves and following the River Anduin southwards.
Gimli watched them go from fair Kheled-zâram and then led the Heroes towards the tall trees of Lothlórien.
That night the kin of Durin’s Bane overran Moria.
Chapter VI: Separate Ways
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Separate Ways
As Legolas and Glorfindel addressed the leader of the elves of Lórien the other Heroes slept peacefully in the shade of the trees. After Galadriel’s departure, Lothlórien had been vacated for two centuries until a small group of elves returned and re-established a colony there.
The two elves were warning their kin of the war that would need them and also that, due to the fall of Khazad-dûm, the High Pass near Imladris would need to be opened to give passage to Galadriel and the armies of Arnor.
It was as the sun rose on the second day of their stay that the Heroes decided it was time to depart, but not together for time was running out and evil already festered in the south.
And so it was that Boromir, Alwé, Théoden and Sméagol bade farewell to Legolas, Gimli, Bard and Glorfindel.
The Fellowship was broken once more.
Continued at Post 3