The Fellowship unfolded from the mountainside. Frodo sat up behind Sev, putting a hand on her shoulder. Gandalf surveyed the group gravely.

"Spies of Saruman. The road East is being watched. We must take the pass of Caradhras!" He turned to stare up at a nearby mountain peak. He led the group onward; Sev knew not where they were going now. She did not remember seeing Caradhras on the map.

The ground quickly became steep and snowy. After a few hours alone, Frodo's face grew pink, then slightly purple. Sev worried for him, and wondered if she could help. She did not feel the cold much, not enough to be painful. She approached him about it, marching back through the snow towards him.

She shed her cloak and thrust it at him. "Here. You're cold and I'm not; so your argument is invalid."

He stumbled through the snow, and she backed away to let him keep walking. She wanted to help, but he had to take the cloak first. He shook his head. "Sev, you'll freeze. You can't very well get through this—I couldn't possibly take your cloak."

Sev blew a raspberry. Finally she halted, and he stood facing her. She wrapped her cloak around his head; he stumbled back, shocked. She pulled him to her again and removed the cloak from his face, getting right up to him. The warmth dizzied him—his nose began to heat up at her nearness.

"Or I'll rub your face warm. One of the two," she insisted. Frodo paused, inhaling and exhaling steadily. His breath warmed her face, and she knew she would need nothing more. When he didn't respond, knowing only being near her would help, she mused to herself jocosely.

"I suppose I could just hold you until you warmed up."

Frodo leaped on the idea and reached for her. She backed away, uncertain. Sure, she liked him, but she didn't want to get carried away at all.

"Frodo, I was kidding."

"Even if you didn't mean it," he insisted, "it's still the best option you've given me so far." He held out his arm, and she sighed, sliding very cautiously beneath it. She let her own arm around his shoulders to hold them both up. Warmth flooded over Frodo, and he held back a moan as they ascended together.

She soon began stepping in sync with him, and one of his feet began to warm. The other one numbed, drifting behind its match. Frodo stumbled heavily with the weight of his frozen foot, and he slammed into the snow, rolling away from Sev. She turned and reached for him, but he was long gone.

"Frodo!" She dashed down the slope towards him, but Aragorn caught his small form first. Sev approached his side, helping Aragorn lift him to his feet. Then Frodo felt at his neck for the Ring—it wasn't there.

The gazes of all three of them turned slowly through the snow. The Ring glimmered dangerously on the surface of the snowdrifts, and Boromir picked it up gently. He let the snapped chain dangle in his hand. He eyed the Ring.

Sev growled, grabbing her Elvish dagger.

"So strange that we should suffer so much fear and doubt," Boromir murmured, "over such a little thing." He reached up with his finger to touch it, entranced. "Such a little thing . . ."

"Boromir," Aragorn snapped. Boromir blinked suddenly and glanced away from the Ring at Aragorn.

Sev nodded to Frodo, and Boromir moved forward. His steps were hesitant. He extended his arm just as slowly, and Frodo grabbed the Ring from him. He didn't want the Ring hurting anyone else, although it had already seemed to trap Boromir. Sev released her dagger.

"Of course," Boromir said, a chuckle rising to his voice. "I care not." He ruffled Frodo's hair; Sev's growl deepened as Boromir backed away.

Aragorn released his sword and gestured for Frodo and Sev to continue. Frodo reached for Sev, but she held out her hand. He moved to take it—she shook her head.

"The chain," she said. "I can fix it."

Frodo glanced cautiously at the Ring. He didn't want it to touch her, but he handed her the chain anyway. She swallowed, eyeing the little circlet of gold. She carefully kept it away from her flesh, let it rest on her shirt while she twisted one chain link open, inserted it into another, and twisted it back shut. The Ring pulsed against her heart, begging, dragging, pulling. Whispers clouded her head, and she immediately yanked it away. Frodo lowered his head, and she undid the clasp. She looped the chain around his neck, and guilt washed over her. She gave him back his burden, locking the chain around him. Her fingers lingered at his neck; she was hesitant to let him under the pressure once more. She gestured for him to go on ahead.

Aragorn shook his head as Frodo walked away. He smirked a little at Sev. "The hand you could have taken and you took the Ring."

Sev sighed, resisting a bitter laugh. "I've had my arm around him all day. I needed my sanity back." Unfortunately the Ring had done that job all too well. Regardless, she caught up to Frodo to warm him. But although he didn't know it, Frodo warmed her as well: as long as he carried the light she loved so much, she would never want for anything by his side.

But the snow around them soon became blizzard. Aragorn took Sam and Frodo; Sev went up on the top with Legolas, for she could manage it. She insisted Frodo take her cloak, but he refused. Aragorn told her she would freeze.

As she and Legolas walked amongst the high, frozen mountain, the Elf perked up, peering into the storm. "There is a foul voice on the wind," he proclaimed. Sev strained, and soon she could hear it. A crunch sounded above them, and snow plummeted past them in drifts.

"It is the voice of Saruman!" Gandalf shouted.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Sev couldn't tell who responded.

Frodo shivered in Aragorn's grasp. His nose and lips were dark purple, and he dug back into his cloak to keep as warm as possible. He wanted to reach for Sev, but Aragorn likely wouldn't have it. Then suddenly the Ring clutched at him, and he curled into his cloak. It had been growing stronger for the past little while.

Gandalf tried to shout out a countering spell, but Saruman's voice continued to ring out. Finally a lightning bolt cracked out of the sky, snapping against the top of the mountain. Snow and boulders crashed down towards them. Aragorn fell back with Sam, but lost his grip on Frodo. The hobbit collapsed numbly into the snow.

Sev muttered under her breath and urgently leaped forward, slamming herself back against the cliff face with the momentum it took to dig Frodo out of the snow. Then the entire peak of the mountain crashed down over them, piling heavy snow on the entire Fellowship.

Not needing oxygen, Sev might not have been in any hurry to get herself out of the snow save for Frodo. As she attempted to shove her way to the surface, she threw one hand over Frodo's face. His eyes shot wide open at the sudden warmth; his body tried to process the transition, but once he got over the initial shock of actual heat he settled into it. His lips pressed against her palm, and he hoped she didn't notice; he didn't want to move.

Finally Sev broke through the snow's surface, and she shoved Frodo up as quickly as she could. He staggered for breath; most of the Fellowship had already emerged. Gimli shook his beard roughly. Frodo reached down to grab Sev—she'd decided to stay put and rejoice in the suffocation, but he pulled her up. He didn't let go of her wrists, for they warmed him. Sev almost felt resigned to breaking the surface, but she wrapped her arms around him when she saw his slightly pinked nose.

Boromir insisted they get off the mountain. Aragorn wanted to turn back, and Gimli wished to go through the mines. Sev turned away from Frodo while he burrowed into her arms for warmth. She saw Gandalf's dark expression and narrowed her eyebrows.

"Let the Ringbearer decide," Gandalf said finally.

Sev glanced down fearfully at Frodo. Gandalf's decision shocked him, and he glanced up to the wizard. There was a long pause in the cold air.

"Gandalf! This will be the end of the hobbits!" Boromir persisted.

Gandalf set his jaw. "Frodo?"

Frodo nodded assertively, although he felt anything but confident. "We will go through the mines," he finished.

Sev winced, remembering what Gandalf had said. The wizard only looked grave. "So be it," he said finally.

Frodo basically latched onto Sev if nothing more than for warmth until they reached the base of the mountain and turned towards Moria. She appreciated it rather well; it made her feel wanted, needed, but she clung to Frodo just as tightly.

Once Frodo stepped over the brim of the snow and gave Sev a hand down, she expected him to part from her so he could walk faster than she wished to. But he stayed by her side, in fact looped an arm around her shoulders.

"Thank you." He hoped she picked up that he meant it. He thought about what Caradhras would have been like without her, having been in Aragorn's grasp alone at the top of the mountain until the ranger lost his grip.

Sev grinned, ruffling his hair. "I'm here to protect you."

Those words rebounded through his head. She had a similar sound—he couldn't quite describe how . . . the timbre, perhaps—to those words she had spoken in his dream at Rivendell. He leaned in slightly, wishing to kiss her, but something deep within stopped him yet again. Frodo backed away, content just to stand beside her as they entered the dark mountains leading to the Mines of Moria.

"Frodo!" Gandalf called out from the front of the Fellowship. He glanced back at the hobbit. "Come and help an old man." He held out his arm.

Frodo glanced apologetically at Sev, then departed her side for Gandalf. Sev shivered a little. She'd never known Frodo could impact her so much, particularly for temperature. Frodo almost buckled from the sudden chill, one he hadn't felt since being at the peak of Caradhras. He slipped under Gandalf's arm regardless, but it did not warm him a fraction as much as Sev had.

"How's your shoulder?" he asked somewhat casually.

Frodo paused. "Better than it was." He winced; it tingled with chills, and he turned back to glance at Sev immediately. The Ring pulled his gaze away.

It wants her more than you do.

Sev cocked her head, wondering what Gandalf wanted. The Ring tugged, and she leaped ahead. Gandalf absentmindedly laid his arm over her. She felt herself drawn to the Ring, although all she wanted was to watch Frodo, make sure he was all right.

"And the Ring?" Gandalf's voice dropped, and he turned Frodo to face him. He allowed Sev to be with the hobbit, and she cautiously crept up to his side. "You can feel it's power growing."

Frodo lurched when the Ring leaped for Sev, physically jolting against his shirt to find her. Sev stood at his side, and her warmth combated the Ring. She could feel it pulling, but then her scar hissed at her.

Gandalf then warned Frodo that not only they felt the power of the Ring: the growing strength of Sauron could, and would, also impact the members of the Fellowship. Gandalf's eyes flickered to Boromir as the warrior passed.

Frodo's eyes grew worried. Sev's shoulder met his own reassuringly, but she had little confidence to offer. "Then whom do I trust?" Frodo turned to Gandalf. He couldn't even trust Sev, he realized, as the Ring might pull her in too. Sev didn't expect him to. Her scar flickered with burning pain, and she realized she wouldn't even trust herself.

And she didn't trust the Ring with having her Frodo either.

"You must trust yourself," Gandalf said, as though replying to Sev's thought. She frowned anxiously, and his gaze flickered to her. He challenged her with a glance, seemingly, and she turned away.

Frodo didn't know if he would do well trusting himself. He settled on the idea that he had no choice; he had vowed never to let Sev trust the Ring, and he had no one else. Even well-meaning Sam might be easily turned.

Then Gimli stepped up behind them and gasped grandly. "The Walls of Moria!"

The wizard, hobbit, and anti-creature followed his gaze to the nearby mountains. The Walls of stone had lines of wear running down them; they wore the forceful blacks and grays of tempered ironwork. A huge waterfall cascaded from a large pillar beside them, and Sev wondered how such grandeur had been attained in the middle of the wilderness so. She stared in awe as the Fellowship moved on before her.

Night drew close, and soon the sky fell into a blue-black. Gimli knocked against the walls of Moria; Sev wondered why until Gimli said that dwarf doors were hidden. Her heart sank just a bit when Gandalf added, "Even masters cannot find them if their secrets are lost."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Legolas muttered.

Sev reached forward to interject something of herself, but then she heard a splash behind her. Frodo's foot slipped off the murky ground and into the water by him; the ripple it sent out haunted him. He felt something, and the Ring pulled at him to keep walking. The pull grew stronger as Sev walked up to him. She had grown numb to the constant tugging and prodding.

"Frodo?"

He glanced up and felt himself reaching for the Ring that wanted her. But he paused, his hand halfway to his chest. He sucked in a breath, then shook his head.

"It's nothing," he said.

Sev cautiously extended a hand, glancing at the water. Frodo accepted it, and the warmth took the Ring's burden from a weight to a pull. It didn't want him; it wanted her. Frodo refused and kept walking by her side, on the opposite side of the water from herself as she intended.

Finally Gandalf halted before one smooth section of Moria's walls. He muttered something about starlight and moonlight . . . then turned back to look at the sky. The dark clouds cleared at his murmured command, and the full moon shone powerfully through to illuminate an engraving on Moria's doors: a smooth arch, shielded by abstract trees. Sev was entranced. Moonlight always did that to her. She loved the light, but could not abide the brightest of it much as she loved it. Moonlight was her sun that she could handle.

She left Frodo to glance up at the doors glowing from the stone. An inscription joined the arch, but Sev did not mind it. She sat on a nearby rock, staring intently. Frodo wondered what intrigued her so, but did not ask when Gandalf began translating the Elvish on the door.

"The Hall of Balin, Lord of Moria. Speak 'friend' and enter."

Merry spoke up brightly. "Well, what do you suppose that means?"

"Why, it's quite simple," said Gandalf, matter-of-fact. Sev thought he sounded a little cocky, but shoved the thought aside—she could never tell with those who presumably knew more about life than she did. "If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open."

As Gandalf thrust the top of his staff to the door and began reciting said password, Sev considered to herself how he knew the password to Moria, and why he would. But she said nothing.

And the doors did not respond. Gandalf tried a second time, ever as confident as before, but again to no avail.

"Nothing's happening," Pippin noted, probably expecting someone to speak with him.

Gandalf muttered, pushing on the engraving and prodding about it.

"What are you going to do, then?" asked Pippin, a little louder than his earlier comment.

Gandalf sounded exasperated. "Knock your head against these doors, Peregrine Took, and if that does not solve this then at least it will keep me from foolish questions!" With that, the entire Fellowship turned to let Gandalf do what he would without interruption.

Legolas, Boromir, and Gimli stood off to the side, talking quietly. Aragorn helped Sam untie Bill, saying the mines were no place for a pony, and that he could find his way home alone. Pippin and Merry took to throwing stones into the nearby lake, but were silenced by Aragorn. "Do not disturb the water," he warned. The ripples spread dangerously into the lake.

Frodo sat beside Sev, watching Gandalf until he noticed where her gaze lingered and stuck. Her wide eyes were fixed on the full moon. It illuminated the whites of her eyes, letting them stand out against her black blood. Frodo paused, then tapped her shoulder. She shook from her dreaming and turned to him questioningly.

He paused, but she waved him on, so he continued with his thoughts. "Sev, was it wise to come to Moria?"

Sev shrugged, turning back to the moon slightly. "I'm not sure. We certainly could not have gone back. I doubt Aragorn would have known where to go. And Boromir wants the Ring too much; we couldn't have taken it through Rohan and Gondor." Then she paused, her eyes narrowed as she remembered what had happened on the road East. "Although, I heard Gandalf talking to Gimli—," She halted. She didn't want to discourage his decision. They could not turn back now.

Frodo's brow furrowed. "Sev?"

She shook her head. "I'm sure Moria was the best way. Gandalf simply said he would take it as a last choice, but in letting you decide I'm sure he couldn't." She rubbed his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure Gandalf would have told you if you should've been concerned." She almost doubted her own words—Gandalf could be remarkably cryptic, but if the wizard had put Frodo into any danger by keeping information from him . . .

Frodo cocked his head at her sudden distant glare. Then a thought struck him when Gandalf discarded his staff and sat down. Frodo spun immediately, staring up at the encryption on Moria's wall.

"It's a riddle!" he exclaimed. Sev glanced up. She shrugged; she didn't entirely think it a riddle, rather simple instructions, but let him think what he would. "'Speak friend . . . and enter!'" He turned back to Gandalf. "What's the Elvish word for friend?"

Gandalf looked a little exasperated, but leaned forward. "Melloch," he said, and Sev's eyebrow shot up (as did her triumphant smirk) when the heavy, foot-thick doors slid open with a grinding creak. The wizard stood and let the Fellowship inside.

Sev stepped up to Frodo. "I knew how to open it," she proclaimed sarcastically. Frodo chuckled, glad at least someone could make light of the situation. She put an arm around his shoulders. "Seriously, though, that was awesome." Her lips came rather close to his ear, and the warmth numbed him from her words. "You should be proud of yourself, Master Baggins."

His face warmed a little. Sev backed away, glancing behind herself one last time at the beautiful moon behind her. She wouldn't see it again for some time, she thought, and she ducked into the black hall of Moria with Frodo Baggins.

Gandalf lit his staff with a glowing jewel while Gimli boasted of Moria. Of course, he turned to Legolas with his pride.

"Soon, Elf, you will experience the hospitality of the dwarves!: roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone! This is the hall of my cousin Balin, and they call it a mine . . . a mine!"

Boromir halted suddenly, surveying the ground with profound worry. "This isn't a mine," he muttered gravely. His eyes sharpened, his brow furrowed. "It's a tomb."

His last word echoed throughout the stone hall, and Sev's gaze shot to the ground. She jolted when she saw the corpses of dwarves at her feet. She jumped back, clinging to Frodo. He grasped her back, and might in other circumstances have been obliged to hold her closer than necessary.

A horrid nausea filled Sev as Gimli howled with mournful rage. Something within her darkest core wanted to drain these dwarves, but it would not give her sustenance. It would taste of nothing but a scavenging greed for the deaths of others . . . the addiction, the lust in her lifestyle beyond rightfully feeding herself. She burrowed into Frodo, growling painfully as she resisted her own desires. He glanced down, then leaped back with her when the Ring began to sear through his shirt and against his skin, fighting to get to her hand over his chest.

"Goblins," Legolas warned. He drew his own arrows, and Aragorn shouted for the Fellowship to get out of the mines. The hobbits backed out slowly, watching themselves. Frodo pulled Sev closer to him. He didn't understand why she of all people would be so afraid, but he felt he could help.

Then a slimy tendril slithered up his leg and tightened there. He inhaled to gasp in shock, but then the tendril grasped him with a death grip and yanked him back—hard. He cried out, and so did Sev when his tight hold dragged her suddenly with him. She grabbed his arm when he tried to let go; she had no idea what had just happened, but one moment she and Frodo were interlocked and the next something flung her away. She skittered through the loose stones, slowing when a significant pile had built up behind her. Her world blackened.

"Sev!" Frodo fought the dragging weight on his leg, scrambling to break free. Pippin, Merry, and Sam leaped forward, and the last of them hacked at the tentacle with his sword. A shriek rose from the water—the creature pulled back. Pippin began to drag Frodo onto shore when eight identical arms exploded from the water, beating back the three other hobbits. It grabbed Frodo with two, waving him through the air. The creature's head emerged from the water, sharp beak opened wide to eat the hobbit in its grasp.

All four hobbits began shouting, three of them for Aragorn and Legolas. Sev dragged herself from the ground and leaped for the beast, unsheathing her sword. She hacked repeatedly at the creature. It shrieked at her angrily, beating her aside while it tried to take Frodo. With protective instinct boiling inside her, Sev fought back hard.

Frodo's world tumbled with shouts, shrieks, clangs, hisses, and blackness. With one tendril wrapped around his arm and the other cutting off circulation in his leg, he couldn't even consider surviving.

"Put . . . him . . . down!" Sev clenched her jaw harder and harder. The creature roared, protesting.

Sev ducked when she heard an arrow leap from its bow behind her. The arrow struck the water creature in the eye, and it finally relaxed its hold long enough for Sev to completely be rid of one leg. Aragorn took care of the other, and Frodo's paradigm collapsed around him while he crashed to the ground. The rocks slammed into his face, but Sev quickly pulled him to his feet. Her warmth overwhelmed everything else, and he blinked—his senses still hadn't entirely returned from being thrashed around by a water creature and then being slammed into the rocks below.

But his pain tingled away at Sev's touch. Her hands fluttered over his face. "Are you all right?" she asked urgently.

Frodo nodded, distant, and she dragged him towards the mouth of Moria. Somehow the elder members of the Fellowship had decided to go back inside, and so all raced back in. The water creature hissed and roared angrily, then launched itself up into the doors behind them. It crashed around as Sev pulled Frodo along faster. Her warmth slowed him a little as he wished to savor it, but he knew they needed to hurry. The walls crumbled quickly behind them.

All halted to watch in dismay as the tunnel mouth collapsed with the strength of the water creature. Sev gripped Frodo's upper arm, and he initially tensed until she let go. She didn't know until he relaxed under her slackened grip, and she winced to herself.

Gandalf's voice pierced the air before the light of his staff. "We now have but one choice." He walked forward slowly. "We must face the long dark of Moria. It is four days' walk to the other side. Be on your guard . . . for there are worse things than orcs in the deep places of the world."

With that cryptic statement, the Fellowship fell into step behind Gandalf into the black, stone halls of Moria.