Looking for Part I? Click here to read it.
The Saga of
Khazad-dûm
M.R. Michel
II
Thus Flón son of Lûn instructed the
Dwarves in the construction of a new mine beneath Mount Caradhras, and they
named it Thak-Unrâg in the tongue of Khazad-dûm, which
means Darkest Mine. For when there was
not a blazing torch lit in Thak-Unrâg, the darkness was as a
thick mire that deadened the senses and brought horror to the mind. And there was more than one Dwarf that ere
the mine was completed succumbed to that murky blackness, and forever lost his
wits thereafter.
Now
after twelve cycles of the sun were spent, it came to pass that Flón son of Lûn
came to Thak-Unrâg on an urgent mission. For during the night it was found that those
who had been working in the mine during the day had disappeared, and no trace
of their bodies could be found. Thus Flón
came with urgency, and he brought with him ten and two of the king’s guard, who
were mighty in prowess of arms. For he
thought rightly that something was gravely amiss beneath the stone walls of
Caradhras, and it was his desire that word of the disaster might not reach the
king’s ear.
The party descended to the utter
depths of the mine, for it was there that the Dwarf miners had vanished. And when they had come to the place of the
mithril-hoard, there came up out of the darkness a foul wind that extinguished
the light of the torches. Then the
Dwarves stood for a moment in great fear and confusion, for they did not know
what was happening.
Ere long a smoldering light became
present in the darkness, and all of the Dwarves drew their gaze to the
flame. Then words came from the
darkness, and they were spoken in Khuzdul, but they were hissed, much as steam
rises from the mixing of water and fire.
The guards cowered and Flón son of Lûn pressed his face to the cold,
dark stone.
“Thralls of Aulë, masters of
Khazad-dûm, lords of stone: hear the
words of a servant of Morgoth, and tremble.
For uncounted years I have lain here in the darkness of Caradhras, beneath
the roots of the mountain; and I slept.
Dark! so dark have been my dreams.
I dreamt that the day of the Elves had waned, and that the kingdom of
Men might yet be cast down. And in my
troubled sleep I saw that the land had been cast anew and that I alone of all the
Valaraukar yet lived. And thereafter I
saw that the lords of stone had lost their strength and became proud, and that
the day of my ascension was nigh.
“Hear, thralls of Aulë: this is that day! For your greed has destroyed you. Is there one here among you that might
deliver a message to your king? Speak!”
Then all was silence besides the
whimpering of the guards, and Flón did not lift up his head, for he was in a
mortal terror.
“Is there not one among you named Flón,
son of Lûn? The others spoke of him, and
gave assurance that he had the ear of the king.”
“I am here, foul creature,” quoth Flón.
Then the shape in the darkness
laughed, and a great stench arose in that underground place. “Then take to your king these words, wretched
stone-worshipper. Ere darkness has
fallen on this mount twenty times, it shall come to pass that King Durin VI
shall meet his demise by fire and madness, and the gates of Khazad-dûm shall be
broken. I have spoken!”
Then an unspeakable terror fell upon
Flón and his companions, and they fled from the mine as ones who have lost
their wits. Thus it was that once Flón
had returned he was admitted into the presence of the king. A pallor hung about his face and his eyes
were downcast; it was as if a wreath of doom hung about his head.
Then King Durin VI’s voice rumbled
from his throne: “Speak, Flón son of Lûn! Why does part of my guard quake in terror,
and why are the dwellings of my miners filled with the keening of
Dwarf-women? Speak!”
Flón opened his mouth, but no words
would come out. Two of the king’s
assistants brought him a chair and a chalice of wine, which he raised to his
lips and drank from greedily. Flón let
the wine gurgle in his throat and flow down his beard, and when he was finished
he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Then wicked intent entered his eyes, and his mouth became small and
cruel.
Flón stood up and bowed mockingly. “O king, do you have need of your servant? Perhaps you want a report on the amount of mithril
that we have mined at the expense of our lives?
No? Or might it be that the king
would seek to comfort the widows of his sisters’ sons, who have lost their
husbands and sons for naught?”
Then one of the nobles in the court
walked up to Flón and struck him across the mouth, so that blood formed at the
corner of his lips. Flón staggered and
sat heavily in the chair that had been brought for him.
“Speak not to the king in such a
manner!” The Dwarf-lord cried out, and others echoed his sentiment. But Flón son of Lûn bowed his head upon his
chest. Afterwards some said that at this
time he wept, and others swore that he laughed so mightily that the tears flew
down his cheeks like the waters of Anduin the Great, and perhaps they were not
wrong.
“He is coming,” Flón said. “He shall come on the wing of a shadow, in
the heat of a mighty flame, and none shall stand against him. And then perhaps the king will remember the
day not so long ago that his servant Flón, son of Lûn, spoke and advised him to
put aside our shovels and hammers. But
now it is too late, and we shall perish forthwith.”
Then many of the court were downcast
at his words, and questioned Flón closely, but he would speak no more on the
matter. And though the guards were brought
one by one before the king and the assembly, none would speak of what they had
seen and heard. It was as if a great
spell of terror lay upon them, and they had become dumb.
“Hear the edict of the king!” quoth
Durin VI. “Henceforth Flón, son of Lûn
shall be banished from the kingdom of Khazad-dûm, and shall not know the
comfort of his kin. For he has openly
rebelled against the king, and has abandoned his people in their time of need.”
Then there were many that counseled
the king against this rash decision, and Náin I the King’s son was among
them. “For,” he reasoned, “it may be
that once the temper of Flón has abated, that he may yet tell us more on this
matter, which is of grave import.” But
the king would not hear these words of wisdom, even though they were uttered with
his own son’s breath, and Flón was banished from the kingdom forthwith.
The Dwarf took with him a sack
filled with his scant belongings, and ascended the Endless Stair for the last
time. And it is said that when he had
passed between the gates of Khazad-dûm, he turned back for a moment and spoke,
and his words were but a whisper that were lost in the mountains.
“Well
met, servant of Morgoth! I leave to you
the plunder of our people and the warmth of our hearths. For as fools we delved into that which was
forbidden, and so wrought our ruin.”
Then Flón son of Lûn disappeared into the wilds of the surrounding
region, and was never seen again.
This is a fan fiction story set in The Lord of the Rings universe.
It is Tolkien Weekly #5 on Blaster Bolts & Galaxy Lore.
Your questions and comments are appreciated.