𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬 ➵︎ [ 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘧 ]

8| pippin's mistake

One by one, we entered the darkness of the passageway, descending a flight of stairs, our footsteps echoing against the stone walls until it opened up to a large space shrouded by shadow.

"Let me risk a little more light." Gandalf raised his staff, and from the crystal emanated a bright white light that glowed like a star in the night.

"Behold, the great realm and dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf."

As the light reached the walls, a sense of awe flooded my heart, sweeping my breath away.

Before my eyes was a vast cavern filled with rows and rows of ornate stone columns that arose to the ceiling, stretching on as far as the eye could see.

The towering pillars loomed over us like giants of stone, reminding us truly of how small we are as we wandered amongst the colossal hall, nothing but ants to the wonders of the Dwarven architecture. The very words had been stolen from my tongue as I gaped in amazement, for even in abandonment, the city remained magnificent and majestic.

"Elo..." was the only word that I managed to find.

Sam's eyes were wide with wonder. They rarely come across sights such as this in the Shire.

"There's an eye-opener and no mistake." He marveled at the sight.

As we passed the base of a pillar, I noticed a small opening in the cave wall. Gimli stopped abruptly, and I almost ran into him. With a sudden cry, he bolted towards the doorway.

"Gimli!" exclaimed Gandalf.

I sent him a look, before running after the dwarf, my feet barely making a noise in contrast to the loud echoing footfalls of the dwarf.

As I passed through the doorway, I saw the bodies strewn all over the ground.

In the centre of the room was a rectangular structure, a singular beam of light streaming from above, illuminating the dwarvish runes engraved on the tomb.

My heart sank even further.

Balin, one of the thirteen dwarves in the company that set off to Erebor, had passed.

Gimli fell to his knees.

"No, no," the dwarf lamented, his head bowed as he cried. "No."

I stood behind him, letting him grieve. The sight of such a tenacious dwarf in such a state of anguish tugged at my heartstrings. No one should have to grieve a loved one like this. Just like no child should have to mourn their father, or their uncle for that matter. Life was like that. The cruel hands of fate were, well, cruel.

I had spoken to Balin on several occasions. He was always a source of wisdom and comfort.

"Balin was truly a great dwarf and his wisdom will always be remembered as he passes to the halls of Mandos*." I consoled, my voice soft.

Gimli nodded his head in sorrowful agreement.

As the rest of the fellowship entered, I placed my hand on my chest, bowing my head as I whispered an Elvish farewell for the dead.

Behind me, Gandalf removed his hat.

"It is as I feared."

As Gimli continued to cry, Gandalf's attention was drawn to a thick book clutched in the hands of a dried out corpse. Handing his hat and staff to Pippin, he picked up the book, opening it and blowing off plumes of dust that sailed into the air.

Beside me, Legolas was restless.

"We must move on. We cannot linger." he warned, his voice low.