Ring Child

by Kiamii

Chapter Six "Into Darkness"

Arrows came whistling into the room, striking the northern wall. A horn-blast seemed to start their battle for orcs of countless numbers jumped into the room and they were starting to fight now. Legolas was shooting two through a throat, Gimli hewing the legs of those who dared come near Balin's tomb, Boromir and Aragorn slaying many more. Archir, hidden between two walls of rock, had shot down more as they neared him. He gave a grin, his magic coursing through his body that he nearly felt his pulse. With over twenty now dead, the rest retreated. No one in the Company was hurt, not even Sam and the other hobbits.

The fought had begun again before Gandalf could utter a cry of run, an orc-chieftain taller than a man-high, clad in black mail all along his body, was now in the chamber with him and he weilded such a dark-tainted spear that Archir could feel the poision raidiating from with in the dangerous point. His eyes widened as he charged at Frodo.

"No!" Archir whispered in horror and he darted from his spot that Aragorn had hidden him in and ran forward, pushing Frodo from the aim of the spear. Archir's eyes went round as orbs as he felt immense pain charge through his small body. It burned like anything! He was thrown against a wall as the others yelled and Archir dizzily looked upon the creature before raising his hand and he pulled the spear away and struck the orc in the head with it, giving way for the others to kill it.

"We must leave now!" Gandalf screamed. Aragorn, his eyes filled with terror at Archir's small body, scooped the child up and fled behind the others. Merry and Pippin were slightly ahead of him. Legolas had to drag away Gimli who was reluctant to leave Balin's tomb. Archir, unable to even move as the poison spread through him, listened as Gandalf ordered Aragorn to keep going even should he stay back to hold the others off.

"G...an...dalf..." Archir whispered, trembling. Aragorn stiffened in shock and looked down to find Archir's eyes unclosing themselves ever so slightly. His heart lept with happiness. Archir was undead yet!

"Hurry!" Gandalf growled at Aragorn who nodded and took off. They went down a long flight of steps, seeing back was nothing but Gandalf's lit staff. Frodo and Sam ran together, Sam's arms around his master as if to shield him. Merry and Pippin were behind their hobbit friends and were seen fearfully running, their feet padding against the cold surface. Legolas and Gimli, for once not arguing about who was better, were gazing around Moria's darkness with silence. Archir could still hear the doom, doom from around. Gandalf returned to them moments later, nearly shaken to their wonder.

"Let us keep going for I have nearly been put out like a candle being blown. Gimli, keep ahead of me! Everyone stay near." Gandalf ordered and they descended many more steps, Archir being carried by Aragorn who clutched the boy to his chest. Gandalf noted the immense heat and finally told of his encounter with the same heat up above. Gandalf finally turned his attention to the Istari child clutching his midriff.

"Very relieved am I to know you are very much undead mellon-nin." Gandalf softly said, frowning as he saw Archir's hidden pain.

"That spear-thrust would have skewered a wild boar! Nevertheless, it was coated in poison and we must hurry to Lothlurien if you are to get well." Aragorn firmly said, his mind already set on his plan. Gandalf nodded and the traveled down to the light that led to the exit. Their hope was growing until it shattered as an unbelievable heat met them. Gandalf stopped and they followed.

"We are in the First Deep, a level very near the Gates. Second Hall of Old Moria. Across the Bridge, up a broad stair, along a wide road through the First Hall... Yes, yes we are very near of the exit but, I daresay, look!" Gandalf said and they looked out, seeing a cavernous hall that was loftier and longer than any other. A red glow, dim as it may be, peeked out from the darkness. Gandalf thanked their luck for having not taken that road and they ran once again. The last race upon them, as Gandalf so diligently told them. They took a left, Archir whimpering in pain which caused their haste further. A shrill yell reached their ears; they were seen. An arrow nearly got Frodo's head but, missed. They found themselves on the bridge and Archir burrowed his small head into Archir's shoulder, afraid to look. Aragorn tightened his arms around the boy against his chest and they ran across in single file, careful of one small wrong step should they take. They made it to the brink before two large trolls found themselves in front of them all and they were flung down to serves as gangways over such a fire. It was not the trolls that gripped them with terrors. The ranks of orcs had opened, for they had been surrounded, and they fled away.

Legolas suddenly wailed out, knowing what their fear was now, "A Balrog is to come to us! The fire has been that devilry!"

"Durin's Bane," Gimli cried, his axe slipping. Gandalf faltered and leaned on his staff heavily, thinking. His eyes were on Archir the whole time.

Boromir raised his horn, blowing into it to allow a challenging ring bellow loudly through the mines, as if many were shouting.

"Over the bridge!" Gandalf yelled, "Fly!" Aragorn kept Archir tightly in his arms and ran. Archir groaned slightly, his eyes blurry with pained tears. He hurt so much!

"Just hang in their little one," Aragorn whispered softly to the little boy, keeping the boy wrapped up tighter in his cloak, despite the burning temperature. Archir was shivering still. When he made it to the end of the bridge, he turned to see Gandalf standing in the middle of the span, his staff upon his left hand, and Glamdring glared a cold white in his other. Gandalf wasn't going to... No!

"Gandalf!" Frodo yelled, probably having realized the man was still on the bridge. It gained the company's attention but fell on deaf ears for Gandalf the Grey. The older man stood before a mighty Balrog of whom stopped as he listened to Gandalf's growl, filled with his bite.

"You cannot pass! I, servant of Secret Fire and wielder of the flame of Anor say again. You shall not pass! The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udyn. Go back to hence you came, to the shadows for I restate my message. You. Can. Not. Pass!" Gandalf yelled, watching as the answer was not made from the Balrog whose fire felt nearly deathly, its darkness growing. The Balrog stepped forward and the wizard swayed. Archir squirmed in Aragorn's arms, wanting to be at Gandalf's side. To help. He had to!

"Let me down! Please!!" Archir murmured to Aragorn who looked at Gandalf's frame with wide eyes, refusing to let go. He hurriedly pushed Archir's small body into Legolas' arms, who clutched Archir even more firmly than the man.

"Do not let him go Legolas," Aragorn said with a frown. The elf nodded and held Archir tightly, keeping the little boy from escaping his arms. Aragorn nodded back and turned towards the scene before him.

"You cannot pass I say!" Gandalf was now repeating. With a large bound, the Balrog leaped onto the bridge, the whip it gripped was whirling and hissing about.

"Gandalf cannot stand alone. Elendil! I am with you, Gandalf!" Aragorn cried and leaped toward the wizard. He was too late, for Gandalf now lifted his large staff and he smote the bridge that he too stood upon. His staff snapped and fell away, a blinding sheet of white flames sprang up and about. The bridge was breaking and the Company stood, transfixed as the Balrog fell. A cheer would have escaped them, had the Balrog not swung its almighty sinful whip, the thongs wrapped around the Wizard's knees and dragging him down as well. Gandalf could only look at his companions one last time before his words, carried by the silence, reached them as he now fell with the enemy.

"Fly, you fools. Do not lose hope."

There was pure horrified silence and Archir, shaking unbelievably so, could not stop the sob from escaping. The fall was so terribly remarkable to Albus Dumbledore's that memories of many haunted him again, as if a leash of evil was undone and not clinging to his mind. He began to tremble and he cried into Legolas' shirt, the elf rubbing circles into his small back. Aragorn, feeling numb, led them through and away from the scene that had been in front of them. They stumbled until they reached the light and away from the drums, the thin black smoke of fire, the evil of Moria.

They did not stop for awhile until they could no longer head the Doom, Doom, Doom that the drum-beats had made. Grief overcame them all and Legolas set little Archir on the grass, unbuttoning the small clothes he wore before tending to the wound as best as he could till they reached Lothlurien. Anything to escape the emotional waves that threatened him, Legolas studied the violent mark and Archir fell into his arms when he was reclothed, sobbing horribly so that the company of nine felt their hearts nearly snap in two at the small boy's grief for his mentor. The man who taught him so much in so little time. Frodo was not looking at anyone, his own heart already broken. He couldn't get Gandalf's eyes out of his mind.

Gandalf couldn't be gone... He couldn't. Archir mused to himself drowsily as Aragorn lifted him up into his arms and combed through his black messy hair, calmly telling Archir that everything would be alright. They mourned for a few more moments before Aragorn convinced them to continue. Archir, feeling ill now and much too warm, fell into a fever-induced sleep that worried Aragorn. They had to hurry...

They rushed away from the Mines of Moria and continued their journey, stopping only to rest a small bit and eat. Aragorn managed to get Archir to eat a small morsel or two before falling back asleep. Boromir was the one to next carry the small Istari. Boromir carried the boy as if he was an infant, frailer than glass. The little boy tossed only slightly and turned less.

Finally, they stumbled across an area that made Legolas nearly light up. They were in a forest finally. Archir felt the light chill and shivered.

"Lothlurien! We have reached the eaves of the Golden Wood. If I am in the right, then it is also winter," Legolas cried happily, relieved. They were still over five leagues from the Gates but, they hoped the virture of the Elves would help them. Besides, Aragorn needed them ever much, to help Archir. He saw the little boy still asleep and knew they had to get to the elves.

They travelled more into the territory before finding themselves surrounded by Elves.

"They are very easy targets!" laughed a voice, causing Archir to stir in Boromir's arms. Boromir was holding Archir against his chest, the boy's head resting under his chin and at his neck. Archir was only aware of feeling cold, yet hot.

"Stop!" A commanding tone said and Legolas was whispering for them to stand still suddenly. Archir blinked open his eyes, unsure of what was happening. Elves?

"A little one in a man's arms," Another voice was saying thoughtfully. Archir shifted, wanting to see who was speaking but, he couldn't move too well.

"He is sick and we are in need of help," Legolas told them. Archir whimpered as he felt Legolas touching the wound. Archir blinked, looking down at his dirty emerald wizard robes. Legolas rubbed some of the dirt off his cloak and the bright emerald was now shining in that spot. He heard a gasp before something was murmured to the elf companion and Legolas was carrying him up somewhere, one hand wrapped around his waist. When he made it to the top, Archir could see three elves before he became dizzy. Where was he? Who were those people? Where was Gandalf now? Everything was so blurry and... he couldn't think straight... Archir closed his eyes again and let sleep overcome him.

Author's Note: Hey! No hurting me for still letting Gandalf 'die' like that. It's a big part of Tolkien's story because Gandalf later became Gandalf the white you know. Heh. Couldn't resist. Archir is mourning like this because Gandalf was his mentor in this world like Albus was in his first world. They're a lot alike to him. As I've replied to reviewers, I have many tricks up my sleeve. I wonder what Aragorn's plan is now. The ending was very choppy because it was switching views and Archir isn't very much aware of anything. He only knew little of the events after Gandalf died, so I didn't write much with that part. I know this is shorter than last chapter but, more is to come. No worries!