A/N Not too long until Moria now. Eep. Anybody else claustrophobic? Cause like, I get that way just playing Lotro and walking around in there. It'll be interesting, that's for sure.

When everyone woke and were told about the crebain their spirits fell. No warm meal or deep sleep was coming that night, they were going back on the road. The rest of the day they stayed in hiding, trying to sleep but not all of them were successful. The crebain came back several times, though now there was even less for them to see than before.

They set off while the sun was still dipping towards the hills to the west with Aragorn at the lead. He knew Hollin the best of anyone there and Gandalf slipped to the back of their line while they trekked, coming to an old stone road. It was barely a road anymore, the few stones that were still in place were either half buried in earth and grass, or sticking up at awkward angles they had to avoid. The moon was bright that night but they still had to keep an eye on their feet.

Josephine trudged ahead of Boromir, keeping a hand ready to catch Merry or Frodo who walked in front of her just like Boromir had had to earlier that night with her. She wished they were back on regular ground but the sides of their road were heavily overgrown and she could see why Aragorn decided against pushing them through sharp holly thickets.

They carried on with single mindedness and as the night wore on the Hobbits tired, falling back in a group with Sam and Bill. It was unpleasantly cold again and the only thing they had to look forward to was the coming dawn.

Ahead of her, Legolas stilled and looked up at the stars. Seconds later a dark shadow passed silently over them, larger than the crebain from the day. Josephine stared off to the north in the direction it had passed, waiting for it to come back and to hear the screams. None came, and the shadow didn't return, but she knew what it probably was. Wraiths on wings. Were they supposed to show up so early? Had the nine gotten back to Minas Morgul already and gotten their fell beasts?

"Did you see anything pass over?" Frodo whispered to Gandalf.

"No, but I felt it, whatever it was." He answered. "It may be nothing, only a wisp of cloud."

Aragorn drew back to the group and eyed the sky. "It was moving fast then, and not with the wind."

Several days passed and as they got closer to the mountains the snow was already sitting heavily on top of them. Gandalf and Aragorn kept stepping away to have hushed conversations about their path and seemed to be watching her when they did, like they were wondering if they'd make a choice that she'd advise them to change. But Caradhras was still the plan and she wasn't going to have them change it early, even if she was absolutely dreading the snow in their future.

Then, with the added weight on their backs of logs for a fire, they started ascending. It was beautiful, but slick and dangerous enough that Gandalf decided they needed to travel when the sun was out. Otherwise the snow on the slope turned to ice and they could barely take a step without slipping. Even during the day they stumbled, which is what Frodo predictably did one afternoon, rolling down and stopping as Aragorn intercepted him. But he'd lost the Ring and scrambled at his neck for the chain.

Josephine looked back and saw it below her, near Boromir who picked it up by the chain and held it in front of his face.

"Boromir." Aragorn called up warningly, his hand curling around Anduril's hilt.

"It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing."

The change in him unsettled her more than she'd expected. The longer they traveled together, the less and less Boromir would be himself. It made her sick to think about it now. It was bad enough he had to die, but it was worse that he'd spend so much of what was left of his life dealing with the whispers of the Ring.

Before he could finish his thought she skidded down to him and snatched the chain out of his hand. She held it out away from her and stepped carefully down to Frodo, disgusted by the semi-sentient chunk of metal. It was corrupting Boromir, just like it was going to corrupt Frodo, like it would slowly begin to corrupt Aragorn and the rest of the Fellowship. Frodo would never be the same again. But she knew the paths to Mordor well enough, the dangers. Maybe she should've considered taking it herself…

A few steps from Frodo she paused and glared at it. "You can shut the fuck up is what you can do. Piece of shit." Shaking off what had felt like the start of an anxious spiral she handed the Ring to Frodo, glad to be rid of it even after less than a minute.

He tucked it away under his shirt, relieved to have it back. She and Aragorn exchanged a look, checking in that everything was alright. It wasn't great, but it was as good as could be expected.

Josephine walked back up the line, stopping behind Boromir and waving him forward. He was still distracted and she didn't like it. He blinked slowly and she grabbed his arm to get his attention.

"Boromir, we need to keep moving."

He nodded but didn't budge.

Why was he still so spacey? He should've been fine once the Ring was out of his hand, at least for a while. Unless the Ring was trying harder now after she'd taken it from him. Did it do things out of spite if someone got in its way? It had pushed Smeagol to kill Deagol that day hundreds of years ago. Was her interference causing it to work harder at corrupting Boromir?

Giving his arm a firm tug she tried again. "Brother!" She'd never called him that, it felt weird despite his nickname for her, but it seemed to do the trick in the end and the shadow left his eyes. "Come on, we're burning daylight."

"Yes. You're right."

She waited until he'd gotten several steps ahead of her before following. When she'd taken the Ring from him she'd thought it would snap him back more quickly like interrupting a conversation. So what had just happened? Had it been whispering to him still while it had tried to tug her away too? She was realizing these kinds of uncertainties were the worst ones.

Soon the snow on the ground was met with snow falling day and night and Josephine was losing track of the days. They stopped for the night and the snow didn't taper. The small fire Gandalf had been able to start for them didn't seem to do much more but light up their misery. Josephine was glad they wouldn't be crossing the whole mountain, she wasn't sure she could handle too many more days of it and she was used to snow.

Boromir had wrapped Merry and Pippin up in his heavy cloak with him, and Frodo was huddled under Gandalf's with Sam. Gimli seemed frozen solid already but occasional grumblings through his frozen beard proved her wrong every time.

Legolas stood at the edge of camp, keeping a lookout seeing as he was the least bothered of all of them by the storm and Aragorn laid their last log on the fire before settling himself in and wrapping his arm and cloak around her. The duel layer of his cloak over hers made a noticeable difference in blocking out the wind and she curled into him to gain as much protection from it as she could. She let one frozen hand escape her cocoon to pull her hood firmly over her face and buried her head in his chest.

She shouldn't have been wishing for it all to be over so quickly, what came after was going to be ten times worse. But right now all she cared about was being warm.

"Hopefully by morning the storm will have passed." Aragorn said. "Sleep, if you can."

Whatever she got, she doubted it would be much good but she was already feeling warmer being next to him, maybe it would be enough. Shifting again slightly, pulled off her gloves and found one of his hands. He'd taken his gloves off to tend the fire and stuck his cold hands back right back into them again. She tugged at his glove and pressed his frozen hand between the two of hers.

"God, Aragorn. Can you even feel your fingers?"

"Do not worry." He said tiredly, giving her hands a squeeze. "I am fine."

He may have been, but she didn't like how long it had taken to warm his hand up and after she'd put his glove back on she did the same to the other.

Stuffing her much less warm hands back into her fur lined gloves she finally tried for sleep. Aragorn, sometime before that, had already managed to.

With snow so deep it was nearly to their heads the next day, the Hobbits ended up in Aragorn and Boromir's arms while Gandalf plowed his way through snow drifts. Legolas walked above them on top of the snow trying to see ahead, but even he was struggling through the blizzard.

"There is a fell voice on the air!" He called back suddenly.

Rocks fell from above and they pressed back against the cliff face, barely missing being struck. Josephine moved down the line, to Boromir who was the closest and waited. She'd rather be easier to find than not when the avalanche hit.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn yelled. "Gandalf, we must turn back!"

"No! Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith!"

Whether it was the memory of it tricking her, or his voice actually carrying over the rocks, Josephine heard Saruman for the first time. He chanted back at Gandalf, egging the mountain on.

A crack of lightning hit the mountain, snow rained down on them, and suddenly it was quiet. The snow covering her head muffled everything and for a brief few seconds there was no wind and no noise. It was a relief almost, not nearly as bad as she'd thought it would be to be buried in an avalanche. But she also supposed it helped that she knew she'd be able to get free.

Light broke through the snow around her and Boromir's hand grabbed blindly at her cloak, pulling her head up and into the air again.

"We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!"

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn argued.

"If we cannot pass over a mountain, let us go under it. Let us go through the Mines of Moria."

Josephine wanted to go back under the snow, just for a few more seconds of peace. She watched Frodo decide and said nothing. Moria scared her more than most steps of the journey, and not just because of the Balrog.

Their descent proved far quicker and easier than the way up and not just because it was downhill. Gandalf made mention that the mountain was letting up now that they were leaving. Whether that was a metaphor or not she wasn't sure. She was beginning to wonder if anything like that was a metaphor anymore.

There was still snow on the ground when they stopped for the night, but it was patchy and they were able to find a rocky space to hunker down and rest. Exhausted from the snow they quickly set a watch and fell asleep.

But rest didn't last long and a howl broke through the night, deep and throaty. Wait…Hadn't there been wargs in the book? Earlier than the ones that attacked in Rohan, a band that came at night…

"That's not a regular wolf, is it?" She asked Gandalf who was sitting beside her sleeplessly.

"No, I fear not."

The howls woke up the rest of the company and Bill was trembling, but he didn't run. She would swear the pony had more bravery in his front right hoof than all of them combined with how sturdy he'd been since Bree.

It was coming back to her now, though only in pieces. "We need a fire, they'll be on us until dawn." A fire, a long night, and many, many wargs.

Gandalf turned to Sam and instructed him to build it as large as he could. "They already know we're here. Josephine is right, a fire will do more for us than darkness now."

The howls continued, spreading out around their camp and growing louder and louder. Josephine could feel the adrenalin in her arms as she drew her sword, the first time she'd ever had to beyond practice.

Boromir stood beside her as they spread out in a circle around the camp. "Keep your back to the fire and do not leave my side."

"You don't have to tell me twice." She said shakily as she stared out into the dark trees.

Then silence fell. The fire crackled behind them, roaring up as Sam threw every last log they had onto it.

A beat passed, and then another. On the third a singular howl called out and the wargs leapt from the trees. Blades flashed in the firelight and struck fur and skin. She slashed at the paw of one who swiped at her, sinking her sword into its eye and feeling its wet breath as her arm stretched above its open mouth.

The thing was massive, larger than the black bear she'd run across on a hike a few years earlier. A lifetime ago, now.

It snarled and whined as she pulled her sword free but didn't fall and she struck again, this time stepping right to slash through its thick skin into its throat. Hot blood soaked her blade and splashed onto her arm as she cut its artery. One down.

The fight continued, Boromir's presence next to her bolstered her confidence and the wargs were held off. It went on for so long that the fire began to dwindle but there was no way to gather more wood.

Gandalf had a contingency plan though. Suddenly he seemed to grow, becoming tall and menacing like he had to Bilbo back in the Shire when he wouldn't leave the Ring. He took up a burning brand from the fire and threw it into the air where it flashed as bright as the sun at noon.

"Naur an edraith ammen! Naur dan i ngaurhoth!" He yelled.

The trees around them burst into flames and Legolas shot his final arrow. It plunged into the heart of the largest warg of the pack and as it fell the rest of the wargs retreated. The fire dwindled as the first light of dawn colored the sky and they knew it was over.

Looking around and seeing that they were all okay, Josephine laughed and smiled at Boromir. She'd made it through her first battle, and against giant wolves at that. "Not dead! High five bro." Lifting her hand she held it up and waited for a second before realizing he had no idea what she was trying to do. Awkwardly she lowered her arm. "I'll explain later."

"You fought well for your first battle." He praised, handing her a rag to wipe her blade clean. "Perhaps there is some hope for you yet."

His addition at the end came with a grin that put her at ease. She handed the rag back and sheathed her sword, turning when she felt eyes on her. From across the remains of their fire Aragorn stared at her, looking her up and down worriedly. "Not a scratch." She called over, which seemed to pacify him.

"We must eat quickly and make haste." Gandalf told them. "If we don't reach the doors by tonight, I fear we never shall."