Chapter 21. 'We'll (not) cross that Road when we come to it...'

Early in the morning on the next day, the New Travellers came down again to the borders of the Road. 'There had been some rain under the shadow of the hills here, and so Strider found no trace of footprints when he and my dad went ahead of the others to look for signs of travellers or riders,' Pippin Gamgee told the others as they stopped upon reaching the southern verge.

Young Faramir looked east and west along the Road. 'It's so quiet,' he said. 'You'd think in this day and age, we might see a traveller or two.'

'Few people – whether Men, Elves or Dwarves, much less Hobbits – are to be found along this stretch of the Road except for the occasional King's Messenger,' Haldoron replied. 'The land fell under the shadow of Angmar many years ago, and so evil were the deeds of the Men who lived in this region that all memory of them has been lost; for despite all the hopes and ambitions they may have entertained, their only legacy is dust and crumbling ruins, and their very existence has been relegated to legend.'

'Will no one settle here someday, and plant and build and raise crops and families?' Robin Bolger asked in a hushed voice.

But the Ranger-guide only shook his head, his face troubled. 'I do not know, and I cannot say,' he said. 

'The Dwarves have not yet tried to reclaim Moria,' Farry said.

Robin shot him a puzzled look. 'What does that have to do with...?'

'I heard my da say that long ago, at about the same time Bucca of the Marish became the first Thain of the Shire, the Dwarves delved too deep in Moria and woke the Balrog slumbering in the depths...'

Farry's Bolger cousin shuddered. 'I don't know what a Balrog might be,' Robin said, 'but it doesn't sound like a good thing.'

'It was terrifying,' Farry murmured. 

Ferdibrand, staring into the distance, echoed the word in a whisper. Terrifying. He'd been assigned to watch over Pippin when the tween had at last returned from his travels and the business of scouring Lotho's ruffians out of the Shire. Like many of the young Took's frequent nightmares, those concerning the Balrog had been vivid, violent and all-consuming. Every night, without exception, Pippin's screams had awakened him out of a sound sleep. Ferdi remembered rushing to his cousin's bedside, trying to wake him out of the dark dream and listening all unwilling to Pippin's babblings as he hugged the shuddering tween close in his attempt to reassure his younger cousin. 

The nightly ordeal ended only after Frodo visited the Smials and witnessed one such disturbance. He'd closeted himself with Pippin's parents for a long discussion the following morning, and then gone on to Buckland, presumably to do the same with Merry's parents. For the Master of Buckland had come to consult with the Thain. Soon after, Ferdi had been relieved of his minder's duties. Instead, Merry and Pippin had become inseparable, spending their time together at the Smials or with Frodo or at Brandy Hall, and later Crickhollow, where they moved in together until Pippin came of age and returned to Tuckborough to take up his responsibilities.

'Mister Frodo called it a dark figure streaming with fire,' Pip-lad recalled. '...and a power and terror seemed to be in it and to go before it...'

'So there's a Balrog in Moria?' Robin asked, still confused.

'No,' Farry answered. 'There is not. That is the point I was making... The Balrog has been gone from Moria since Gandalf cast him down on the slopes of Celebdil to his ruin.'

'But the Dwarves have not returned to Moria, is what you're saying?' Robin asked.

As the talk went on, Haldoron stared from one speaker to another in growing bemusement. At last, he cleared his throat, and the four hobbits broke off their discussion and looked at him.

He gestured before them. 'The Road?' he said. 'The Bridge? ...the journey?' 

But the young son of the Thain said to him, 'The Balrog is gone, but the Dwarves have not yet returned to Moria...' The Man shook his head to clear it. What did Moria have to do with this stretch of Road they were about to tread?

On the heels of Farry's observation, the young son of the Mayor mused aloud, 'When I was quite little, I heard my dad say that dark places still needed a lot of cleaning up, and he thought it would take a lot of trouble and daring deeds to root out the evil creatures still to be found in the halls of Moria. I remember what he told Ellie that night especially because he said he thought we'd never quite get rid of Orcs, and it gave me screaming nightmares that night, and for several nights after.'

Ferdi's gaze seemed to say to the Man, We're not going to retrace the Fellowship's steps through the Mines, I hope?

'Surely not,' Haldoron muttered aloud.

'O yes,' Pip-lad maintained. 'I still remember those dreams! And Mum told Dad that he wasn't allowed to mention Orcs again until after we younger ones had gone to bed... and he didn't, for the longest time. I think I was twelve when I was finally allowed to stay up for those parts of the nightly reading of the Red Book; I mean, when it came to Mister Frodo's account of the breaking of the Fellowship and the Thain's and Master's ordeal as they were carried away by the Orcs that slew Captain Boromir...'

'As well as the parts about the Mines of Moria and Helm's Deep and the siege of Minas Tirith and the Black Gate, not to mention the Ring-bearers' trials, I should think,' Haldoron said. 'Were there any parts left for him to read to you?'

'This part, for one,' Pip-lad said. 'Though Mum and Dad sent us to bed before he would begin to read any of the darker stories, all of us younger children were able to listen to Mister Frodo's account about the journey to Rivendell, as well as their travels from Rivendell to the Doors of Moria. (Excepting, perhaps, the attack of the wolves upon the hilltop...) And the Travellers spent weeks in Rivendell and Lórien and months in Gondor! Sometimes, especially when my younger brothers or sisters are not yet sleepy enough to go off to bed and stay there, Dad tells stories about his time with the Elves and his experiences in the White City instead of reading from the Book.'

Ferdibrand shifted his weight from one foot to the other, betraying his growing restlessness, and asked the question that had been growing in Haldoron's mind. 'And what was the point of this discussion we're having? For surely, there's no doubt as to our course from this point onward, at least until we have crossed the Last Bridge?'

'The point was,' young Faramir said seriously, 'that Men have been – and probably will continue to be – slow to resettle this land which has lain under the shadow of evil for centuries. Just as Moria remains empty and abandoned despite the lure of Moria-silver. Perhaps someday...'

'Perhaps someday...' Haldoron repeated in a whisper. But if my son yet lived and wished to join in the effort to reclaim Northern lands that have long lain empty, I would urge him to set his hopes on Tharbad or Annúminas and not seek to build or settle anywhere near the lands that once belonged to Rhudaur.

Ironically, somewhere along the East-West Road, but likely within the borders of fallen Rhudaur, while serving as a Messenger for the King, his son had fallen to a ruffian's arrow.

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Some text and descriptive details in this chapter were drawn from 'Flight to the Ford' and 'The Bridge of Khazad-dûm' in The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien, along with the second version of Tolkien's unpublished Epilogue. 

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