Wielder Of The Secret Fire
They had travelled through the Mines for three days, each day Anyaelia became more and more aware of her surroundings. But something inside of her stirred, something she knew of, something from her past.
She looked around her in awe; they were now in Dimrill Dale. They continued along through the great pillars that surrounded them. Gimli uttered out a cry and rushed towards a room that was set in front of them. Anyaelia and the Company fell in behind him; the sun that poured in through a small window above the door lit the room. A small sliver of the light lay upon a large white tomb in the middle of the room. Gandalf solemnly walked towards the tomb and read the script that was etched in the stone.
“Here lies Balin, Son of Fundin, Lord of Moria. He is dead then. It is as I feared.”
Anyaelia hung her head in respect as Gimli let out a mournful cry. She watched Gandalf out of the corner of her eye as he took a worn book from a skeleton that lay against the tomb. He placed it upon the tomb and opened it, many pages fell out, but Gandalf continued to read to himself what he could. He came to a page and he began to read out in a clear voice.
“They have taken the gates, and the Second Hall…”
Anyaelia lifted her head as she noticed a slight movement on her left side. It was Pippin, and he was inching closer to the well, she could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. She moved towards him as he drew nearer and nearer.
“Drums drums in the deep…”
As Pippin’s hand reached out to touch the skeleton Anyaelia placed her hand on his shoulder, he whipped his head towards her and moved his outstretched hand involuntarily into the skeleton. It tumbled downwards, echoing through the mine. Gandalf glared at Pippin and snapped the book in disgust.
“Fool of Took! Next time throw yourself in and rid us of your stupidity!”
Pippin’s face became a look of pain and disappointment in himself, but it turned to fear when the steady beat of drums began. A piercing cry of Orcs filled the room and Boromir rushed to the West door, that of which they had entered through before.
As he shut the door and began to bar it he turned back to the others and spoke, “They have a cave troll.”
He ran back to the others who were now standing at the East end of the room. Gimli leaped upon the tomb, his axe flashing in his hand.
“Let them come,” he snarled, “There is one Dwarf yet in Moria that still draws breath.”
Anyaelia’s daggers were unsheathed, but she wished for a bow as Legolas and Aragorn aimed and hit their targets through the cracks of the door. Suddenly the door burst open and Orcs poured in through the opening. Aragorn dropped his bow and unsheathed Andúril, plunging it into the first Orc that crossed his path. Anyaelia twirled around and sank her daggers into an Orcs abdomen, spraying vile black blood upon her. She felt a pain in her side as another Orc stabbed her with its wickedly curved blade; its gnarled face grinned at her. One of her dagger’s flashed and the grinning face rolled across the floor.
Her head whipped towards the door as a large troll burst through the broken entrance. A club was raised high in its swollen hand as it brought it down upon Sam, who dodged quickly through its podgy legs. Anyaelia rushed forward and swiped her daggers across the beast’s chest. It roared in pain and swung its club towards her, it hit its mark and Anyaelia flew into a wall. She crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath. Bodies of Orcs fell around her, as she watched her companions fight for their lives.
A familiar figure came into view, she watched as the troll edged towards her, it snarled as it raised its club above its head. An arrow hit its mark into the Trolls neck, she watched as it stepped back, gasping for air. It groaned as it tumbled to the ground. The archer rushed to Anyaelia’s side, she smiled weakly up at him.
“Are you alright?” He asked worriedly.
“Aye, I will be fine Legolas.” He helped her up and stumbled backwards against the wall, pressing her hands against her chest. For it was there that in which the Troll had targeted his club. She looked around her, all of Fellowship had gathered around in a small corner. Anyaelia walked towards them, she saw her daggers amongst the fallen bodies of her enemy’s. She picked them up and wiped off the dark blood from the blades.
Anyaelia froze as the sound of Orcs filled the room, the screeches drifted in from the West door. Her panicked eyes looked towards the group, Gandalf stared back uttering out a silent command, “To the Bridge of Kazad-Dum!”
They raced through the hidden East door that was placed behind the well. Anyaelia looked around her at the open space, upon the large pillars dark shapes crawled down them. They continued along quickly but were soon surrounded by spider-like Orcs; Anyaelia unsheathed her daggers and held them ready. Drums began to roll again and a monstrous roar shook the ground, the Orcs screeched and began retreating.
Boromir took lead and went through a large open door; Anyaelia stopped as she went through. Below her lay broken steps that lead down into a large chamber. But what lay around her caught her eye, fire and lava that gave off intense heat. Anyaelia started after the others down the stairs, they came upon a gap and Legolas leaped over it easily. Followed by Gandalf and Boromir with Merry and Pippin. Anyaelia stepped forward with Sam, she held onto him as they leaped across. An arrow rained down upon them, barely missing hitting Gandalf.
Anyaelia looked up towards where the arrow flew from worriedly. She heard Aragorn cry out as he threw his bow to her.
“Here! Take and use this!”
She caught it gracefully and shouted to Legolas, “Arrow!”
He threw one to her and the bow sang; a screech came from where she targeted and she watched triumphantly as the Orc fell into the fiery pits below. A tumbling of rocks made her turn and she watched in horror as Frodo and Aragorn tried to balance themselves on the stairs. A few of the steps had fallen, making it impossible for them to jump over. A large piece of stone rained from above as it hit the other side of the stairs, trapping them. There was a sharp crack as the base of the stone fell apart, Frodo and Aragorn leaned forward and the stone slid down towards the Company. As it drew nearer they jumped into the welcoming arms of the Fellowship.
Arrows rained down from above as they raced down the stairs. They finally reached the large chamber; Anyaelia could see the Bridge in front of her. She looked behind her and saw large steps; at the top she could see flames billowing out of the darkness.
Anyaelia ran alongside Gandalf as they drew closer to the Bridge of Kazad-Dum. Another roar was heard and a large thud came from behind her, she could feel intense heat upon her back. Gandalf drew back to let Anyaelia go across the bridge first, but as she reached the middle of the Bridge her instincts made her stop. As she turned she saw the Balrog; fire leapt from its skeletal body, a monstrous roar spurt from its fiery mouth, sending blistering heat upon her skin. She watched as Gandalf stop and whirled to face the fiery spirit. Before she knew what she was doing she ran towards Gandalf and stood beside him, ignoring the cries of her fellow comrades that had already crossed the Bridge.
Gandalf stared at her, eyes blazing with fury, “Run! Get Away! This beast is beyond you!”
“It is not.” She replied coldly.
At that Gandalf turned towards the creature, holding his staff high he let out a great cry.
“You cannot pass! I am the servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor!”
Anyaelia’s voice spoke up; she held her hands high above her, releasing a ball of fire that rose and flickered from her palms.
“And I the wielder of the Secret Fire, the last Seeing Sorceress of the Maia! You shall not pass!”
The beast stared at her and a loud noise followed by flames uttered from its mouth, it was laughing at her.
“Do not make me laugh, you are not the last Sorceress of the Maia! For that was Armaelia, Queen of the Maia, and she is dead! For I watched her die.” The creature sneered, releasing flames from its nostrils.
“Nay! She dwells in the Undying Lands with my father! She lives and is well!”
The creature stared at her and spread its wings, filling up the room.
“That may be so, but we shall see if you are a Sorceress!”
It raised its ghastly sword and brought it down upon her and Gandalf. At that moment the fire from Anyaelia’s palms grew and surrounded them in a shield of heat. The shield smote the sword and the Balrog stepped back in surprise. Anyaelia placed her hand on Gandalf’s staff and shouted clearly, “You Shall Not Pass!”
The staff crashed to the bridge sending out a blinding light outward. The Balrog stepped upon the Bridge, furious, and underneath its monstrous feet the stone cracked and fell. The fire spirit let out an angry roar and fell into the abyss below. The fire shield slowly dissipated and was pulled into Anyaelia’s body. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Gandalf was staring at her with a look of surprise and shock that was etched across his face, but before he could say anything the descending Balrog’s whip pulled Gandalf to the broken edge of the Bridge. Anyaelia rushed towards him but an arrow flew from the other side of the Bridge, cutting deep into her shoulder. She let out a cry and fell to the ground and she watched helplessly as Gandalf struggled to pull himself up.
He stared into her pleading eyes as he uttered his last words, “Fly you fools!”
He let go of his hold and fell into the void.
“No!” Anyaelia uttered as she crawled to the edge of the Bridge. She looked below her, but could not see anything but a small sliver of light, which was that of the Balrog. She cursed herself, she had the power to save him, but she could not.
She picked herself up, barely missing an arrow that flew past her face. “Valar, protect me.” She whispered to herself as she began to flee across the Bridge.