Gandalf swerved around to face their assailant as the last of the Company, Legolas, streaked buoyantly past him and onto the Bridge of Khazad-Dûm, joining the rest on the other side.

Streaming with fire and an eerie blue light, the dark figure strode stoutly towards him. Fearing that it was the Balrog, a powerful creature made entirely out of shadow and flame, Gandalf held up his stave and uttered a sharp phrase.

The jewel upon its crest glittered white in answer, enveloping the wizard in a protective globe of invulnerability.

The dark figure reached the bridge. The flames roared up, wreathing about, growing to a great height. When the flames finally died down, all eyes stared as Gandalf lowered his stave and gaped at their enemy.

It was a girl.

"S-Sam…" Legolas stuttered, his eyes growing wide as saucers.

Sam looked up, his furry little hands covering his face. He was cowering, and his face was dirty in the right places. "Yes, Master Elf?"

Legolas continued staring at the girl, ignoring the hobbit. Disbelief washed over him like a tidal wave. "S-Samsara?", he finally managed to utter.

But of course the girl could not hear him from all the way on the other side of the bridge.

Clad strangely in black and heavily adorned with jewels, Samsara stood steadfastly, glowering at the Gray Wizard. Her eyes were fervent and they gleamed with a strange light.

"Fly!" Gandalf cried, recalling his strength, which had been spent in the battle earlier on in Balin’s Tomb. "This foe is beyond any of you. I must narrow the way. Fly, I said!"

Aragorn and Legolas heeded no command, but still held their ground, side by side. The others halted just within the doorway at the hall’s end, and turned, unable to leave their leader to face the enemy alone.

Gandalf raised his stave again. His other hand grabbed the handle of Glamdring and he unsheathed it, revealing the long sword in a flash of cold white light. "You can’t pass!" he barked, facing the girl. Dead silence fell upon them as Gandalf eyed Samsara warily.

This is the corrupted daughter of Lord Elrond, he thought to himself. The one who possesses powers far more superior than mine. What is she doing here?

"Do you not know the answer, Gandalf the Gray?" Samsara spoke up, answering in conjunction to his thoughts. Gandalf started. He had not known that the girl could read the minds of others.

This is bad, he thought.

"You'd better believe it."

He gulped. Stop going through my head.

"As you command." At the last moment, Samsara’s voice turned hard and cold. She flicked her right arm at the direction of the tall ceilings, and with a resounding crack, it began to crumble. She looked at the wizard, her eyes burning. "If you do not want me to go through your head," she looked up at the crumbling ceiling, "how about on top of it?"

Aragorn cried out as massive chunks of rocks began to fall from the darkness above. One missed Gandalf by a foot.

From the shadows came another boulder.

Gandalf, small and alone, looked gray and bent, like a wizened tree before the onset of a storm. He raised his stave high above his head once more, and it flashed a white light.

There was a ringing crash and a stab of white fire.

The stave broke asunder and fell from the wizard’s hand. The boulder flew up in molten fragments as Gandalf swayed on the bridge, stumbled back, and then again stood firmly to face the sorceress - Samsara.

Seething, Samsara gave a yell of rage as she focused on the wizard and stared at him with fury and with power. A blinding sheet of blue flame sprang up and Samsara felt power flowing through her veins.

She raised her arm high up and opened up her palm. It began to glow almost instantaneously, radiating and pulsating as if it had a life on its own. It began to siphon off the energy existing in the surrounding ether and, almost like electricity, began to gather in her palm. Spreading her fingers out wide, Samsara begin to centralize her powers, shaping and hardening the energy, and now the Company have no doubt of what she was going to do.

She was going to strike Gandalf down with bolts of solid ice.

Legolas jumped into action and began to load his Mirkwood bow up with an arrow.

The ice was formed. It gleamed and sparkled. Its tip looked sharp and menacing.

Legolas aimed his bow. He pulled the cord to its limit.

Samsara launched the ice bolts, aiming them straight at the now-defenseless Gandalf.

Legolas’s bow sang and his arrow flew.

With a terrible cry, Gandalf fell backward as three lethal bolts of ice impaled him. He staggered and fell over the brink of the bridge. "Fly, you fools!" he wailed weakly as he plunged into the darkness below, and was gone.

The Company stood rooted to the spot, gaping horrifically into the pit. As Aragorn and Legolas came flying back, the bridge began to crack and fall.

Legolas’s blue eyes searched for Samsara, and there she was, poised like a mannequin, her delicate face drained of all expression. Her jaw hung open.

Lodged firmly in her abdomen, was Legolas’s arrow.

Tears began to well up in Samsara’s glazed eyes as she swayed upon the disintegrating bridge. Just as the bridge broke right at her feet and crashed into the dark abyss, she whispered something, but the deafening crumbling of the bridge completely drowned her voice out.

Samsara disappeared into emptiness.

Legolas sank to his feet as he stared after her. His keen Elven ears had heard her last words.

They were…

Save me, Legolas.