Fiction GotG Chapter 12

Title: Gamble Of The Gods

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either J.R.R. Tolkien’s "Lord of the Rings" universe, nor David and Leigh Edding’s "Belgariad".

Rating: PG

Genre: Crossover of LotR and The Belgariad

Type: WiP

Timeline: LotR- The beginning of the Fellowship (follows the movies mostly.)

The Belgariad- post books. Beldaran is a young woman now, about seventeen now.

Summary: In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.

Chapter Twelve

The group ran as swiftly as their tiring bodies could carry them. The warriors were careful to keep the littler members of the group in the center. Gandalf finally reached the doors, his knees trembling with more than exhaustion. The clamoring thoughts in his head refused to be silent. Mostly there was the need to protect Frodo. The Balrog could not take him, under any circumstances. As he ushered the Fellowship through the door that led to the staircase and the bridge, he never noticed that Boromir nearly fell in their headlong rush. It was only Legolas’ quick Elven reflexes that jerked the man back. Aragorn paused at Gandalf’s side as the Wizard slumped against the stone doorway.

"Gandalf?" he hissed, concern evident in his voice as he took in the other’s almost defeated countenance.

"Lead them on Aragorn," Gandalf instructed. He nodded towards the bridge, in the distance. "The bridge is near." Aragorn glanced once at it then turned to help his old friend, but Gandalf pushed him away roughly. "Do as I say! Swords are no more use here." To Aragorn’s relief, he hauled himself forward as the Fellowship ran down the stone steps, careful to note their twisting features, lest someone else should fall.

Unfortunately for them, there was a break in the steps. Legolas barely thought about it, automatically jumping the distance with ease. He turned back to the others. Bel followed him quickly and he caught her gratefully. She hurried out of his tight grasp to make room for the others.

"Gandalf," the Elf called, waving his arm in encouragement. The Wizard jumped across and turned about to help the others make their way. Naturally, jumping the span wasn’t their only problem as Orcs emerged from their little hiding places and began shooting arrows at them.

"Shield!" Bel yelped again just as Aragorn and Legolas began returning fire. There was a small difference this time. It seemed that their arrows could penetrate the barrier she’d constructed, while the Orc arrows could not get in. She moved further down the steps as she heard Boromir give a yell and with Pippin under one arm and Merry under the other, he leapt across. The weight though, of the three of them caused the steps to break away even more. She barely caught Aragorn tossing Sam towards them as she concentrated on the barrier. She needed to extend it back to cover the last of the party, and forward as the others moved out of the jumper’s way.

She heard Gimli give a yell and felt a prickle of fear. She whipped her head to the left in time to see Legolas yank the dwarf forward by his beard, saving the stubborn one’s life. The steps under Aragorn and Frodo crumbled even more and with enviable speed, Aragorn threw the Hobbit up higher, then leapt aside as the steps crumbled under his very feet and fell away. He hauled himself up to the questionable safety. The chasm was wider than ever and he knew that he’d have a difficult time jumping safely with Frodo. Just then, the Balrog reminded them of its presence, as it’s inexorable march caused mayhem with the crumbling structure. A falling piece of stone crashed through the steps above Aragorn and Frodo, upsetting the precarious perch they had.

Beldaran split her focus, trying in vain to steady the chunk of rock her friend’s were now on. Aragorn had a hold on Frodo and they were desperately trying to balance themselves while not upsetting the stone greatly. ‘I’ve got you Aragorn!’ her thought screamed to him. ‘Lean forward!’ She knew that he had heard when he repeated it to Frodo. They did as bade and the stone fell forward, finally connecting with the rest of the steps and they were able to jump the slight distance where ragged stone met. The broken step shuddered once then fell away. The company didn’t care as they continued to race down the steps. Beldaran was gasping by now as she tried to change the angle of her shield to accommodate the twists and turns they made.

They finally reached the plateau where the bridge was. Again, Gandalf ushered them over. Boromir took the lead ahead of the Hobbits. "Over the bridge," Gandalf yelled unnecessarily. Flames began to erupt behind them. "Fly!" After everyone had passed him, he watched as the Balrog emerged from the flames. The thing roared at him, and resigned, Gandalf turned to run after the Fellowship. He knew that the thing would not stop following them, and that it would catch them quickly. He saw that his comrades had made it over the bridge and knew that at last his time had come. He stopped and spun around on the bridge. The others stopped as well; fear and terror striking deeply within their hearts as the demon centered its attention on the Wizard.

"You cannot pass!" Gandalf thundered.

"Gandalf?" Frodo yelled. He shrank back a little as flame erupted once more from the Balrog.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor," Gandalf warned. He held his staff before him, the crystal shining pure and bright in defiance of the darkness. He knew instinctively what was coming. "The dark flame will not avail you, flame of Udun!" Regardless, the Balrog drew back its flaming sword as Gandalf readied Glamdring. The Balrog swung overhand and Gandalf defended with his own sword. Glamdring withstood and the Balrog’s sword snapped and fell away, deep into the dark chasm under the bridge. Aragorn broke away from them and took a few worried steps to his old friend.

Gandalf crossed his sword and staff, a ward against the demon. It roared its frustration at the Wizard. "Go back to the Shadow!" Gandalf commanded. The Balrog stepped forth onto the bridge as it shuddered from the immeasurable weight of the evil upon it. The demon drew forth a flaming whip, brandishing it menacingly. Beldaran watched as her nightmare came true. She wrestled her conflicted mind for a moment. She knew what would come to pass, but she could not help her friend. She had to protect Frodo and the others. She was still holding the shield and she knew she could not release it to go to Gandalf’s aide. She didn’t know if she could do anything against it. She had no idea if the demon would even react to the Orb on her sword as others had. So she could only watch and wait for the inevitable.

"You shall not pass!" Gandalf thundered as he brought up sword and staff together, then slamming the staff to the floor of the bridge. A blast of pure white light burst from the staff, causing the Balrog to flinch away. It brandished its whip again, cracking it high above the Wizard’s head and stepped forward once more. But Gandalf’s last spell worked and the bridge crumbled beneath the demon. The Balrog fell as it crumbled beneath. Gandalf turned, exhausted, but determined. A sigh of relief went through the Fellowship as they saw this, but it turned once more to terror as the Balrog’s dreaded flaming whip emerged from the chasm to wrap itself around Gandalf’s legs. He lost his grip on his weapons as he was yanked to the edge of the bridge. He struggled to hang on.

Frodo raced forward, only to be held back by Boromir, the man yelling denial, whether at Gandalf’s imminent fall or at the little Hobbit, was unknown. Frodo called for his friend, shock and disbelief in his face. It wasn’t right that Gandalf would triumph in one moment, just to be ripped away from them in the next. The Wizard struggled for a moment, but his hands could find no better purchase and he took in the face of his dumbstruck companions once more.

"Fly you fools!" he whispered harshly. And then he was gone. Frodo screamed again and tried to go, but Boromir’s strong arms caught him up. Bel shut her eyes, her strength failing momentarily as numbness surrounded her heart. She felt someone tug on her arm and looked up to see Legolas yanking her towards the stairs of their escape. Boromir was already a ways up them, the struggling Hobbit crying out for his friend.

"Aragorn!" Boromir yelled, shaking the Ranger out of his stupor. He realized his new duty in that moment. It was now his responsibility to protect the Fellowship and lead them on. The grieving Ranger knew that the time to mourn would be later. Right now they had to concentrate on escape, for though the Balrog was gone, the Orcs were still after them. As he rounded a corner and glanced back, he saw one arrow coming perilously close and as he ducked he realized that Bel was so stricken, she’d dropped her defensive shield. His mind registered little things as he ran, almost feeling two separate people. Strider the Ranger dedicated to the mission. And Aragorn, the hurt friend, wondering how this tragedy had come about. And all either man could do was run.

Finally the company stumbled out of the mountainside, into the cooling relief of fresh air. But it was no balm on their wounded spirits. Aragorn was the last to come out, guarding their rear as he’d been taught. He took in the sight before him. Sam was sitting by himself, crying desolately. Boromir was holding Gimli back, the Dwarf cursing himself for even suggesting going through Moria, vowing revenge on all the Orcs there. Merry and Pippin were together. Poor Pippin lying on the ground, unseeing from the tears clouding his eyes. Legolas had his arms wrapped around Beldaran as they both stared off, uncomprehending of this turn of events. He looked worriedly, but Frodo was there, but distanced from the group. Resolutely, he turned off his own grief. He knew that they needed to find shelter now. He absentmindedly wiped off his sword. The rote measure something ingrained in him. Never sheath a dirty weapon.

"Legolas!" he called. "Get them up!" Legolas stared at him for a moment, then released the woman and moved to Merry and Pippin. Boromir rounded on the other Man.

"Give them a moment, for pity’s sake," he was shocked at Aragorn’s callousness. Aragorn gestured back at the mountain they’d just emerged from.

"By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs," he hissed, not caring what the others thought of him at that moment. Their safety was foremost in his mind now. "We must reach the woods of Lothlorien," he instructed as he sheathed his sword. "Come Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up!" He stalked over to Sam and surprisingly pulled the Hobbit to his feet gently by the lapels of his coat. His voice was soft. "On your feet Sam." He did have some compassion after all. He patted the Hobbits shoulder, letting him know that he too grieved, but now was not the time. He turned then, "Frodo?" He took a few steps, not sure if the Halfling had heard him. "Frodo?" he called louder this time. The poor Hobbit turned to face him slowly. A look passed between them and slowly, the group began to move again.

Chapter Thirteen