Chapter 15: A Journey in the Really Freakin' Dark
So, after much delay and general laziness, the next chapter is posted. Mostly because of a certain piece of fanart of preciousness and general guilt-inducement. This one has more Lewis and cursing. Uhm... that's about it.
Merry Christmas, because my laziness was totally a hidden agenda to bring this to you for Christmas. <.< I swear.
The Lord of the Reports:
The Fellowship of the Tie
Book II, Chapter 15:
A Journey in the Really Freakin' Dark
After only a brief rest and some food the Fellowship started on its way again. All were anxious to get out of that place, and the more swiftly the better. Lewis walked in front as before; he was aided by Stevli and Jonagorn, both of whom had visited that place in recent memory, but it was always the wizard who had the final word, and anyway he had the light.
Jason's spirits had risen after his escape, and even more so after dinner; but as they trod on he began to feel a deep uneasiness, brought on perhaps by the lingering effect of his knife wound, or the increasingly heavy weight of the Tie, or the way every now and again a fissure would open in the ground right before their feet.
"Rope!" muttered Sam, as they all entreated Ed to summon enough courage to leap one of these gaps, which was more than seven feet wide. "I knew I'd want it, if I hadn't got it."
For the most part they spoke seldom, and there was no sound but the sound of their own feet; and when they halted they heard nothing at all, except the occasional trickle of unseen water. Yet Jason began to hear, or imagine that he heard, something else; it kept up while the Company was moving, but it was not an echo, for when they halted it pattered on for a little all by itself.
"Do you hear the pitter-patter of little feet?" he asked Sam during one of these pauses.
"No," replied she, "but I'd like to."
"If that was a come-on," said Jason, "it was a really bad one."
He heard the rustle of cloth as she shrugged in the darkness. "Give me a break. I don't have much to work with, here."
They had been going for several hours with only brief halts when Lewis came to his first serious check. Before him stood a wide dark arch opening into three passages: all led in same general direction, and this time there were no markings, not even the most obnoxiously cryptic sort, to help them in their choice.
At last Lewis stopped in his tracks and declared, "Fuck it. I don't know where we are, and I'm too damned tired to figure it out. We're sleeping."
To the left of the great arch they found a stone door, beyond which lay a wide chamber cut into the rock; in here, with at least more feeling of shelter than in the open passage, they unrolled blankets and made beds against the walls. Lewis watched at the door; Jason went over to him.
"So, uh," said he, peering out into the blackness, "I think maybe there's something following us."
"Yep," said the wizard gruffly. "That would be Golly."
"Golly!" exclaimed Jason.
"That's what I just said."
"No, I meant -- never mind."
"He's been following us for a couple of days now. Can't keep away from the Tie."
The hobbit felt for the golden fabric beneath his shirt. "It's too bad Mo didn't kill him when he had the chance."
"Yes, there are a lot of idiots out there, but just because they really piss you off or make your life a living hell, or talk about their horses and college doesn't mean we should just go around killing them. Even if they did put me off my pancakes..."
There was a well in the middle of the floor; broken and rusty chains trailed down into the black pit, and fragments of stone lay near it. Ed felt curiously attracted by this; he crept to the edge and peered over, then groped for a loose stone and let it drop. He counted for a long time before he heard a distant splash.
Lewis raised his head immediately. "What the fuck was that?"
He was relieved when Ed confessed what he had done, but he was angry all the same. "Fool of a hobbit! Throw yourself next time so we don't have to put up with your fucking stupidity!"
Nothing more was heard for several minutes; but then there came out of the depths faint knocks, like the far-off ring of a hammer, and with a disquieting pattern to them, like signals.
"Great," growled the wizard. "Absolutely fantastic. Now you've gone and woken something up. You, Ed, can go on the first watch, as a reward." With that, he rolled himself up in a blanket.
Ed sat miserably by the door in the pitch dark; but he kept on turning round, fearing that some unknown thing would crawl up out of the well. Soon the others seemed to be asleep, and presently he turned round and found something directly behind him. He let out half a yelp before a hand was clapped over his mouth; he very nearly bit it.
"Dude, cut it out! It's just me!" hissed the voice of Rob.
Ed made apologetic noises against the hand until it was removed, and Rob sat down beside him.
"That was really, really stupid," said he.
"I know," replied Ed.
They sat in silence for a time, and then Rob spoke again. "You're probably really tired."
"Yeah."
"And you probably want to go to sleep."
"Rub it in, why don't you?"
"No, I mean -- you could go to sleep now, if you wanted."
"But someone needs to keep watch."
"Well, that's the thing. I could watch instead of you."
"But don't you want to sleep too?"
"You really are dim, aren't you?" said Rob. "I can't sleep. I've been trying. So, since I'm going to be awake anyway, I may as well watch. So, since I'm going to be watching anyway, you may as well sleep. Get it now?"
"Oh," said Ed. "Okay, I get it. This is really nice of you, Rob. Thanks."
"Okay, first of all, it's not nice, it's just logic. And second, shut up."
It was Lewis who took the next watch, and who roused them all from sleep. "Up!" he ordered, prodding the rest of the Company with his staff. "I've picked a tunnel, and we need to get moving."
"You remembered the way!" exclaimed Ed.
"Nope," said the wizard. "But this is the one that smells least."
The path began to wind upwards; the floor here was level and sound, without pits or cracks. Evidently they had struck what had once been an important road, and the marching was easier. In this way they advanced for miles, and had gone about as far as the hobbits could manage without a rest, when suddenly the walls to right and left vanished; they seemed to have passed through some arched doorway into a black and empty space, in which the air was cool.
"Fantastic!" exclaimed Lewis, and for once he seemed in fact to mean it. "That was definitely the right path. We're in some kind of open hall now. It's time to risk a light."
He raised his staff, and for a brief instant there was a blaze like a flash of lightning. For a second they saw a vast roof far above their heads, upheld by mighty pillars of stone; the walls, polished and smooth as glass, flashed and glitered. Three other entrances they saw, dark black arches: one straight before them eastwards, and one on either side. Then the light went out.
"That," said Sam, "is really, really cool."
"There must have been thousands of dwarves here once," said Ed, "to carve all of this."
"There were," replied Stevli. "This used to be a city; and of old it was more impressive even than RSU."
"Nothing," declared Stepholas, "is more impressive than an elf-city. Especially nothing hollowed out by dwarves."
"And how would you know?" retorted Stevli. "You've never been to a dwarf-city in its prime. You have no idea."
"It's simple Truth, Stevli. Elves are always more impressive."
"Dwarves are more impressive!"
"Elves!"
"Dw--"
Before Stevli could launch into the full vocal power of his yell, Lewis had whacked both the elf and the dwarf upside the head with his staff. "Have you forgotten," he snapped, "that we are trying not to be noticed, here?"
"I'm sorry I yelled," said Stevli quietly.
"I'm sorry he yelled too," added Stepholas promptly.
"But why build a city here, anyway?" asked Ed. "It can't be for the view."
"It's a mine, you idiot," replied Rob. "They obviously dug up gold and jewels and things. I wonder if there's any of that left?"
"I wouldn't bet on it," said Lewis. "Orcs have probably plundered this place for all it's worth. But the wealth of Studio Moria was never in gold or jewels, but in mirthril."
"That's the Elvish name for it," put in Stepholas. "Nobody knows what the Dwarves call it."
"That's because Dwarves can keep secrets," replied Stevli. "Unlike a certain blabbermouth Elf I could mention."
"It is not my fault that Oprohnd found out about our--"
"Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah! You're about to do it again!"
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Am--"
Lewis raised his staff and with two sharp blows rendered both of them unconscious. "We're resting here tonight anyway," he declared, "so we may as well shut them up as quickly as possible."
While Jonagorn and Kilbornomir were unpacking blankets and rolling the Elf and the Dwarf up against the wall, Sam said, "Wait, what's mirthril?"
"Silver," replied the wizard; "the strongest and truest silver in the world. It could be beaten like copper and polished like glass; it never tarnished or grew dim; and the Dwarves could make of it mail that was light and yet harder than tempered steel. It was one of the most beautiful things in the world, but also one of the best defenses, for when you're laughing you can't be afraid."
"Why 'was'?" asked Rob. "What happened to it?"
"Well, obviously everybody wants this stuff, and they took it," snapped Lewis. "It's only found in this studio, and now nobody's producing it here, and Orcs have been going after what's left of it in the world. Mo actually had a shirt of mirthril rings once, lucky twit. I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire."
Jason nearly fell over.
"How did you manage that?" demanded Sam, who caught him. "We're actually on flat ground for once."
Jason took the first watch; once he was relieved by a much-subdued Stepholas, he slept through the night. When he awoke there was a dim light in the chamber: across the hall through the northern arch light glimmered faintly and distantly.
"Good morning!" said Lewis. "Yes, it's finally morning, and I think we should get out of here today, unless any of you want to spend another night in this hellhole. I'm not totally sure where we are, but that light in the north could be a window, so after breakfast we'll go check it out, see if we can get our bearings."
There was enthusiastic support for the plan, especially the part involving breakfast, which they set to with renewed vigor.
Once refreshed, the Fellowship passed under the northern arch. The glimmer came through a doorway on their right; beyond it was a large square chamber, seeming dazzlingly bright after their long time in the dark.
Here they could see that the light came from a wide shaft high in the wall, whose beam fell directly upon a table in the middle of the room: a single oblong block, about two feet high, upon which was laid a great slab of white stone. In the shadows around this lay the bodies of more long-dead dwarves, garbed in the tattered and tarnished remains of full battle regalia.
"There's something written here," said Jason, bending forwards. On the slab runes were deeply graven; Lewis came quickly to his side.
"Dwarf-runes," he said. "'Here lies Lorne Michaelsin, Head Writer of Studio Moria.'"
Stevli ran forward to see the engraving for himself. All expected another shout, but the dwarf fell to his knees behind the tomb in uncharacteristic silence.
It was Stepholas who stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
There was perhaps a minute of perfect stillness before the elf looked up and became conscious of their stares. "What's everybody looking at?" he demanded.
"Nothing!" chorused the rest of the Fellowship, and all busied themselves in searching the chamber.
There were many recesses in the rock of the walls, and in them were large iron-bound chests of wood. All had been broken and plundered; but beside the shattered lid of one they found the remains of a book, slashed and stabbed and partly burned. The wizard lifted it carefully and turned to the end.
"This is it, all right," he said somberly. "'We have barred the gates,' something something 'can hold them long if', something something, the rest of this page is a lost cause..." He turned the leaf over. "Here we go. 'They have taken the Bridge and the second hall.' A couple of lines too blurry to read, then 'five days ago. The pool is up to the wall at Westgate. The Watcher in the Water took' someone or other. 'We cannot get out.'"
"We must move on," said Stepholas quietly to Stevli. "We can't stay here."
"'We cannot get out' again," continued Lewis. "'Drums, drums in the deep.' And the last thing on the page is 'they are coming.'"
Another silence fell, so still that Jason could hear his own heart pounding.
Stepholas looked around. "Did you say 'drums'?"
"That's what it says here," replied the wizard gruffly. "Hell if I know what it--"
"Shut up for a second," said Kilbornomir, holding up a hand. Lewis glowered at him, but in the pause that followed they all heard the rolling boom that seemed to come from depths far below.
Jason drew Snark from its sheath; the blade of the little sword glowed faintly blue.
The wizard looked from the rumbling floor to the glowing blade.
"Shit."
Merry Christmas, because my laziness was totally a hidden agenda to bring this to you for Christmas. <.< I swear.
The Lord of the Reports:
The Fellowship of the Tie
Book II, Chapter 15:
A Journey in the Really Freakin' Dark
After only a brief rest and some food the Fellowship started on its way again. All were anxious to get out of that place, and the more swiftly the better. Lewis walked in front as before; he was aided by Stevli and Jonagorn, both of whom had visited that place in recent memory, but it was always the wizard who had the final word, and anyway he had the light.
Jason's spirits had risen after his escape, and even more so after dinner; but as they trod on he began to feel a deep uneasiness, brought on perhaps by the lingering effect of his knife wound, or the increasingly heavy weight of the Tie, or the way every now and again a fissure would open in the ground right before their feet.
"Rope!" muttered Sam, as they all entreated Ed to summon enough courage to leap one of these gaps, which was more than seven feet wide. "I knew I'd want it, if I hadn't got it."
For the most part they spoke seldom, and there was no sound but the sound of their own feet; and when they halted they heard nothing at all, except the occasional trickle of unseen water. Yet Jason began to hear, or imagine that he heard, something else; it kept up while the Company was moving, but it was not an echo, for when they halted it pattered on for a little all by itself.
"Do you hear the pitter-patter of little feet?" he asked Sam during one of these pauses.
"No," replied she, "but I'd like to."
"If that was a come-on," said Jason, "it was a really bad one."
He heard the rustle of cloth as she shrugged in the darkness. "Give me a break. I don't have much to work with, here."
They had been going for several hours with only brief halts when Lewis came to his first serious check. Before him stood a wide dark arch opening into three passages: all led in same general direction, and this time there were no markings, not even the most obnoxiously cryptic sort, to help them in their choice.
At last Lewis stopped in his tracks and declared, "Fuck it. I don't know where we are, and I'm too damned tired to figure it out. We're sleeping."
To the left of the great arch they found a stone door, beyond which lay a wide chamber cut into the rock; in here, with at least more feeling of shelter than in the open passage, they unrolled blankets and made beds against the walls. Lewis watched at the door; Jason went over to him.
"So, uh," said he, peering out into the blackness, "I think maybe there's something following us."
"Yep," said the wizard gruffly. "That would be Golly."
"Golly!" exclaimed Jason.
"That's what I just said."
"No, I meant -- never mind."
"He's been following us for a couple of days now. Can't keep away from the Tie."
The hobbit felt for the golden fabric beneath his shirt. "It's too bad Mo didn't kill him when he had the chance."
"Yes, there are a lot of idiots out there, but just because they really piss you off or make your life a living hell, or talk about their horses and college doesn't mean we should just go around killing them. Even if they did put me off my pancakes..."
There was a well in the middle of the floor; broken and rusty chains trailed down into the black pit, and fragments of stone lay near it. Ed felt curiously attracted by this; he crept to the edge and peered over, then groped for a loose stone and let it drop. He counted for a long time before he heard a distant splash.
Lewis raised his head immediately. "What the fuck was that?"
He was relieved when Ed confessed what he had done, but he was angry all the same. "Fool of a hobbit! Throw yourself next time so we don't have to put up with your fucking stupidity!"
Nothing more was heard for several minutes; but then there came out of the depths faint knocks, like the far-off ring of a hammer, and with a disquieting pattern to them, like signals.
"Great," growled the wizard. "Absolutely fantastic. Now you've gone and woken something up. You, Ed, can go on the first watch, as a reward." With that, he rolled himself up in a blanket.
Ed sat miserably by the door in the pitch dark; but he kept on turning round, fearing that some unknown thing would crawl up out of the well. Soon the others seemed to be asleep, and presently he turned round and found something directly behind him. He let out half a yelp before a hand was clapped over his mouth; he very nearly bit it.
"Dude, cut it out! It's just me!" hissed the voice of Rob.
Ed made apologetic noises against the hand until it was removed, and Rob sat down beside him.
"That was really, really stupid," said he.
"I know," replied Ed.
They sat in silence for a time, and then Rob spoke again. "You're probably really tired."
"Yeah."
"And you probably want to go to sleep."
"Rub it in, why don't you?"
"No, I mean -- you could go to sleep now, if you wanted."
"But someone needs to keep watch."
"Well, that's the thing. I could watch instead of you."
"But don't you want to sleep too?"
"You really are dim, aren't you?" said Rob. "I can't sleep. I've been trying. So, since I'm going to be awake anyway, I may as well watch. So, since I'm going to be watching anyway, you may as well sleep. Get it now?"
"Oh," said Ed. "Okay, I get it. This is really nice of you, Rob. Thanks."
"Okay, first of all, it's not nice, it's just logic. And second, shut up."
It was Lewis who took the next watch, and who roused them all from sleep. "Up!" he ordered, prodding the rest of the Company with his staff. "I've picked a tunnel, and we need to get moving."
"You remembered the way!" exclaimed Ed.
"Nope," said the wizard. "But this is the one that smells least."
The path began to wind upwards; the floor here was level and sound, without pits or cracks. Evidently they had struck what had once been an important road, and the marching was easier. In this way they advanced for miles, and had gone about as far as the hobbits could manage without a rest, when suddenly the walls to right and left vanished; they seemed to have passed through some arched doorway into a black and empty space, in which the air was cool.
"Fantastic!" exclaimed Lewis, and for once he seemed in fact to mean it. "That was definitely the right path. We're in some kind of open hall now. It's time to risk a light."
He raised his staff, and for a brief instant there was a blaze like a flash of lightning. For a second they saw a vast roof far above their heads, upheld by mighty pillars of stone; the walls, polished and smooth as glass, flashed and glitered. Three other entrances they saw, dark black arches: one straight before them eastwards, and one on either side. Then the light went out.
"That," said Sam, "is really, really cool."
"There must have been thousands of dwarves here once," said Ed, "to carve all of this."
"There were," replied Stevli. "This used to be a city; and of old it was more impressive even than RSU."
"Nothing," declared Stepholas, "is more impressive than an elf-city. Especially nothing hollowed out by dwarves."
"And how would you know?" retorted Stevli. "You've never been to a dwarf-city in its prime. You have no idea."
"It's simple Truth, Stevli. Elves are always more impressive."
"Dwarves are more impressive!"
"Elves!"
"Dw--"
Before Stevli could launch into the full vocal power of his yell, Lewis had whacked both the elf and the dwarf upside the head with his staff. "Have you forgotten," he snapped, "that we are trying not to be noticed, here?"
"I'm sorry I yelled," said Stevli quietly.
"I'm sorry he yelled too," added Stepholas promptly.
"But why build a city here, anyway?" asked Ed. "It can't be for the view."
"It's a mine, you idiot," replied Rob. "They obviously dug up gold and jewels and things. I wonder if there's any of that left?"
"I wouldn't bet on it," said Lewis. "Orcs have probably plundered this place for all it's worth. But the wealth of Studio Moria was never in gold or jewels, but in mirthril."
"That's the Elvish name for it," put in Stepholas. "Nobody knows what the Dwarves call it."
"That's because Dwarves can keep secrets," replied Stevli. "Unlike a certain blabbermouth Elf I could mention."
"It is not my fault that Oprohnd found out about our--"
"Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah! You're about to do it again!"
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Am--"
Lewis raised his staff and with two sharp blows rendered both of them unconscious. "We're resting here tonight anyway," he declared, "so we may as well shut them up as quickly as possible."
While Jonagorn and Kilbornomir were unpacking blankets and rolling the Elf and the Dwarf up against the wall, Sam said, "Wait, what's mirthril?"
"Silver," replied the wizard; "the strongest and truest silver in the world. It could be beaten like copper and polished like glass; it never tarnished or grew dim; and the Dwarves could make of it mail that was light and yet harder than tempered steel. It was one of the most beautiful things in the world, but also one of the best defenses, for when you're laughing you can't be afraid."
"Why 'was'?" asked Rob. "What happened to it?"
"Well, obviously everybody wants this stuff, and they took it," snapped Lewis. "It's only found in this studio, and now nobody's producing it here, and Orcs have been going after what's left of it in the world. Mo actually had a shirt of mirthril rings once, lucky twit. I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire."
Jason nearly fell over.
"How did you manage that?" demanded Sam, who caught him. "We're actually on flat ground for once."
Jason took the first watch; once he was relieved by a much-subdued Stepholas, he slept through the night. When he awoke there was a dim light in the chamber: across the hall through the northern arch light glimmered faintly and distantly.
"Good morning!" said Lewis. "Yes, it's finally morning, and I think we should get out of here today, unless any of you want to spend another night in this hellhole. I'm not totally sure where we are, but that light in the north could be a window, so after breakfast we'll go check it out, see if we can get our bearings."
There was enthusiastic support for the plan, especially the part involving breakfast, which they set to with renewed vigor.
Once refreshed, the Fellowship passed under the northern arch. The glimmer came through a doorway on their right; beyond it was a large square chamber, seeming dazzlingly bright after their long time in the dark.
Here they could see that the light came from a wide shaft high in the wall, whose beam fell directly upon a table in the middle of the room: a single oblong block, about two feet high, upon which was laid a great slab of white stone. In the shadows around this lay the bodies of more long-dead dwarves, garbed in the tattered and tarnished remains of full battle regalia.
"There's something written here," said Jason, bending forwards. On the slab runes were deeply graven; Lewis came quickly to his side.
"Dwarf-runes," he said. "'Here lies Lorne Michaelsin, Head Writer of Studio Moria.'"
Stevli ran forward to see the engraving for himself. All expected another shout, but the dwarf fell to his knees behind the tomb in uncharacteristic silence.
It was Stepholas who stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
There was perhaps a minute of perfect stillness before the elf looked up and became conscious of their stares. "What's everybody looking at?" he demanded.
"Nothing!" chorused the rest of the Fellowship, and all busied themselves in searching the chamber.
There were many recesses in the rock of the walls, and in them were large iron-bound chests of wood. All had been broken and plundered; but beside the shattered lid of one they found the remains of a book, slashed and stabbed and partly burned. The wizard lifted it carefully and turned to the end.
"This is it, all right," he said somberly. "'We have barred the gates,' something something 'can hold them long if', something something, the rest of this page is a lost cause..." He turned the leaf over. "Here we go. 'They have taken the Bridge and the second hall.' A couple of lines too blurry to read, then 'five days ago. The pool is up to the wall at Westgate. The Watcher in the Water took' someone or other. 'We cannot get out.'"
"We must move on," said Stepholas quietly to Stevli. "We can't stay here."
"'We cannot get out' again," continued Lewis. "'Drums, drums in the deep.' And the last thing on the page is 'they are coming.'"
Another silence fell, so still that Jason could hear his own heart pounding.
Stepholas looked around. "Did you say 'drums'?"
"That's what it says here," replied the wizard gruffly. "Hell if I know what it--"
"Shut up for a second," said Kilbornomir, holding up a hand. Lewis glowered at him, but in the pause that followed they all heard the rolling boom that seemed to come from depths far below.
Jason drew Snark from its sheath; the blade of the little sword glowed faintly blue.
The wizard looked from the rumbling floor to the glowing blade.
"Shit."