Disclaimer: Characters and locations belong to Tolkien, and will be returned to him intact. Events belong to me.
Chapter X: Blaze of Glory
The Balrog had left Dol Guldur, heading south and west towards Isengard, and Saruman, its main rival to power. Anduin it crossed, passing near to beleaguered Lothlórien. Drawing ever closer to the Misty Mountains, it came at last to the borders of Fangorn Forest. There it stopped for a short time.
The fallen Maia gazed upon the forest with eyes of flame. Dark it was, and thick, with much that would impede the Balrog's progress. Passing around it, to the east, over the Downs and the Wold, would take time, and the Balrog was an impatient creature. Its dark face twisted into a cruel grin, and the mighty demon stretched forth its power, forcing its wreath of flame, which until now had been idling, to flare up, surrounding it fully and causing the grass upon which it stood to turn to ash within a second. As it stepped forward, under the eaves of the Entwood, the trees beside and before it lit. The Balrog hastened forward, leaving a spreading wake of fire behind it, and a trail of burnt trees.
The forest was large, and after crossing the Limlight the Balrog broke into a full run to cross the eighty-odd miles to the Entwash. At times, it glimpsed some of the trees it passed attempting to flee the flames, but all were caught and devoured by the unholy fire. Having slept for long ages, the Balrog knew nothing of the Ents it was now destroying once and for all, but had it known, it would not have cared. Nothing mattered to it but dominion.
After a time indeterminable, the ancient demon emerged from the remains of the forest. Swifter now, it passed around the southernmost foothills of the Mountains, and came into the Wizard's Vale. The armies of Saruman had swarmed into Rohan some time before, and thus the Balrog met with little resistance as it stormed across the plain and into the Ring of Isengard itself. Saruman, sensing its approach, had long since locked the tower of Orthanc up tight, but the Balrog smote the door with its powers and its fists, and it was broken in two.
Up the stair it strode, heading straight for the top, where it sensed the other Maia's presence. Very soon, it burst from the topmost door, and saw Saruman, standing beside a great eagle, whispering to it. The wizard turned to face the oncoming wall of shadow and flame.
"So," he said with a sneer, "you have come out of hiding. Through two ages you stayed down in the depths of these mountains, hiding like the coward you always were." The Balrog hesitated, and Saruman continued. "I remember you from the Song. You were one of those who succumbed to Melkor's dischord instantly, weren't you? A coward, surrendering to his influence merely because it was easier then carrying on."
The Balrog began to feel as if the other Maia's words were true, as if it was too feeble to even consider carrying on its master's legacy. But then it remembered that this Maia was one with skill in influencing the minds of others. Shaking off the spell Saruman had woven, the Balrog pulled out its sword of flame and swung.
Long was the fight on the peak of Orthanc, but in the end neither was the victor. Sacrificing his staff to make the Balrog stumble for a moment, Saruman leapt aside Landroval, the eagle who he had captured and twisted with his words, and flew away into the night, towards Edoras and his armies. The Balrog was about to follow, but stopped, sensing another Maia nearing the Vale – Olórin, one known to it of old, from before the Song. The Balrog grinned its cruel grin, and settled down to wait for the other Maia's arrival.
And arrive he did, passing into the Ring of Isengard, through the broken door, and up the steps to the top of the tower of Orthanc. There, casting aside his staff and wielding instead Glamdring, the Foe Hammer, the grey-robed wizard confronted the Balrog.
Long and fierce was their battle, but at last Gandalf cast his foe from the tower, down onto the flagstones five hundred feet or more below. Turning away from the edge, the wizard breathed a sigh of relief, having survived his foe despite all the odds.
His relief had come too soon. With its last efforts, the Balrog turned all its powers of fire and shadow upon itself, building them up within its body, letting them feed on each other, growing to a strength unequalled by any since Melkor himself, until finally it could contain the energy no longer.
In the ruined fortress of Helm's Deep, Aragorn span around as a strange light shone past him, lighting the rubble that had once been a fortress. As the glare faded, the heir of Isildur saw the great fireball rising from the Wizard's Vale, and knew despair. Gandalf the Grey, Wizard from the uttermost West, was destroyed, while his evil counterpart, Saruman, was now free to visit devastation on the whole of the free world. If the Free Peoples could win now, it would be nothing short of a miracle. Middle-earth was lost.
And thus it ends. Yes, this story ends here, chapter ten.
Don't worry, though, there will be a sequel. I currently have one chapter of the second story in this saga, Darkness Rising, written. When I reach five, I'll start posting it. And yes, I do have it all planned out.
While the second story will wrap up all the action, I may, at a later date, finish the trilogy with a story about What Happened After. This is tentatively (very very tentatively) entitled Light After Darkness, but don't expect that to stick.
And now, just to whet your appetites (and to put an end to that annoying rumour about Lórien having fallen), here's an extract from the first chapter of Darkness Rising:
Forth swept the Elven troops, faster now than the wind itself. Glorfindel led the charge, crashing into the unsuspecting Orc army from behind. As they turned to counter him, Galadriel rallied her own desperate forces, now given new hope, and struck once more at the now-inattentive enemies pressed against the walls of Caras Galadhon.
Back and forth the battle raged, but slowly Glorfindel and Galadriel's armies were pushed back together to the bridge that led into the heart of Lothlórien. All hope seemed lost, but then Elladan and Elrohir struck simultaneously at the flanks of the enemy, cutting a wide swathe through the orc army and bringing down their commander within minutes.
Have a nice wait.
Cloaked Eagle