Disclaimer: I have just won 300 million dollars in Lotto Super 7 and now I
will go and attempt to buy the rights to Lord of the Rings off Peter
Jackson or whomever else might be in possession of them, which my wonderful
imaginary money. A wonderful waste of money.
A/N: I have had this ready for soooooo long it's unbelievable that I haven't but posted it but I am doing so now.
News in my life that you probably won't find interesting but you'll get it anyway: I just made a total fool of myself in acting, horribly degrading but fun; I will soon have seen Pirates of the Caribbean for the 7th time muahahahahahaha; yah that's about it.
The chapter. Enjoy R&R!!!!!!!!
Chapter 10
Caradhras. How I loathed that name.
It wasn't so bad at first, though the clothing left a lot to be desired. I don't care how many people say silk is warm, it is skimpy and it's what hot lap dancers wear. It was not, on the other hand, what you wore up a freezing cold mountain. But I was forced to wear them and wear them I did. I was relieved to find that I had some wool clothes, and though it was itchy, they were better than silks. I was also given a fur cloak to wear, which I refused to wear at first, but eventually the cold forced me to put it on, breaking down my animal rights principals. To my disappointment there was no fleece. That was probably due to the fact that fleece couldn't exist in BW because they had no plastic and fleece was essentially recycled plastic.
Towards the beginning it wasn't so cold so I didn't need to wear all my clothes. The snow line was quite high, despite the wintering season. But before long we reached snow. That was when I learned that elves were either super anorexic, had ultimate osteoporosis or just didn't contain all of their internal organs and bones, or just a bit of each (personally I thought Legolas looked way too skinny for his size). But whatever the reason, they were extremely light. Neither Lara nor Legolas sank on the snow even when the rest of us were up to our knees (or in the case of the hobbits, their waists) in the white snow.
For once I wasn't the one who lagged. I was actually at the front of the sinking line. This probably due to the fact that I had seen snow before, a lot, and was used to it and liked it, whereas everyone else was grumbling and muttering about the cold, wet snow. Aragorn as usual was at the back doing a sort of sweep. Every time someone stumbled or fell he would be right there to catch them.
Once Frodo fell and Aragorn as usual caught him. As he righted himself he clawed at his neck for the Ring, but found it wasn't there. How it had come off was beyond me, for it had seemed securely chained, but however the way, it was definitely not there. Frodo looked around wildly, searching for it. Boromir had picked it up, and was holding it aloft by its chain, eyeing it almost greedily. Frodo looked at him fearfully, knowing Boromir lusted greatly for the Ring (and who wouldn't? It was a talking ring after all).
"Boromir," warned Aragorn. This did not seem to wake Boromir from the trance like state that the Ring had put him in.
"It is a strange fate the we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing. So small a thing." He was still entranced by the Ring. I was thinking along the same lines, but since my two-day long lessons, where the evil of the talking Ring had been thoroughly impressed on me, I knew better, and knew Boromir was only saying that to try and get the Ring.
"Boromir," Aragorn said sharply. This time Boromir looked up. "Give the Ring back to Frodo."
Boromir slowly paced back to Frodo and Aragorn. "As you wish," he said holding out the Ring to Frodo. As soon as it came within his reach, he grabbed it, coldness replacing the fear in his eyes. I saw Aragorn take his hand away from his sword hilt as soon as Frodo got the Ring. "I care not," continued Boromir, trying to convince himself of that as well as Aragorn and the rest of us.
But Boromir did care. He had wanted the Ring, wanted it for himself. And Aragorn had been prepared to kill Boromir to keep it away from him. It was the first time that I really understood the power of the Ring and its hold on Boromir. And it frightened me.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I wasn't as bored as I had been before, because I loved playing in the snow. Sometimes I did slow down the company by falling (and Aragorn had to catch me which annoyed him sorely and therefore pleased me), I was usually far ahead capering around in the snow like a three year old. Many of the company found this rather pathetic, but Gandalf certainly didn't.
"Let her have her fun while she can. Dark days are yet to come," he would say and smile at me. A rather dark premonition, but of course I had known this was suicide from the beginning and had ignored it, and I was still pointedly trying to do so, knowing there was nothing I could do about it.
The unfortunate thing was that my particular level of fitness did not allow me to caper constantly, and when I stopped capering, I began to have warm food cravings, and since I was too tired to caper, I couldn't take my mind off of those cravings. My distraction could no longer come from the music box because Legolas still had it, and I couldn't even reach the elf because he and Lara were so far ahead, not that he would give it to me if I asked anyway.
So I was left cold, sweat drenched which had turned cold the moment I stopped capering, bored and craving a whole lot of different foods. I picked up snow in my fur lined wool mitten and began to make a patty cake out of it, in an effort to keep my hands warm. I didn't exactly work, the patty cake I mean, but my hands did get warmer. I looked at the snow and an idea hit me. A slow evil grin spread across my face.
I picked up a piece of snow and began forming it into a ball shape. I debated about my targets. I really wanted to get Aragorn but I could not get behind him, since he was doing a sweep. I settled for Legolas. He was quite far ahead, but I had a pretty good arm. I had played softball since I was five. That was the one thing I had going for me. I could throw things. If I couldn't shoot arrows or use a sword or swing an axe or blow people to smithereens with magic, then at least I could throw things at them.
And throw them I did. I hit Legolas in the lower back with my snowball.
"So close," I muttered. I meant to hit him in his butt.
He whirled around to look for the culprit. His eyes immediately fell on me. Lara also turned around as her companion stopped. She looked at me and smiled, knowing that I had done it, but she would not say a word. For once, she was on my side. I kept on walking, keeping my eyes down, trying to look innocent, but the laughter threatened to burst.
"You did it, didn't you?" he said glaring at me.
"How can you blame it on me? You don't even know it was me," I cried.
"I heard you," he informed me.
Damn, I had forgotten that.
"Why do guys always blame things on me? It could have been anyone," I whined in a last attempt to sound innocent.
"Because it is always you who does them," called Aragorn from the back.
"Hey don't get into this Aradork, or you'll get one too."
"You just admitted to doing it," Legolas told me, returning my attention to him, though my attention didn't seem to wander from him too often. "And I recognized your voice."
Since I couldn't think of a good retort, I just stuck my tongue at him and picked up some more snow. He did likewise.
"I would be careful. I have excellent shot," I informed him.
He came close to smiling. I do say close, but it was not quite there; he never actually smiled. "So do I."
We began circling each other, but Gandalf interfered.
"Enough," he ordered. "This is not helping. We must keep going."
Legolas gave me one last icy look and dropped his snowball. I was about to do the same when I had a better idea. I turned and hurled the snowball at Aragorn. It missed completely, but I felt better for having at least tried to hit him. I no longer wanted to actually hit him. I had thought it over. Legolas was very patient with me. Aragorn was not as much so, and since he probably saw no need to keep me along, he probably wouldn't hesitate to chop off my head if given a good reason.
So we continued on laboriously up the mountain. It began to snow, but soon the snow had become quite heavy. I was no longer a happy little girl; I was a depressed cranky (which I seemed to have been since I got here). I was sweating profusely and freezing. This was the definition of clammy. This was ultra-super-duper clammy. I was going to die of hypothermia from sweating. The sweat was immediately freezing on my skin as soon as it came out of wherever sweat came out of.
To pass the time the time I invented a little song. It went as such:
We're off to see the wizard
The horrible wizard of Mordor,
Because, because, because
Because of the evil little Ring we have.
Doo doo lee doo doo lee doo.
I had never really liked the Wizard of Oz, but everyone knew the 'We're off to see the wizard' song. I had put it into context for this world.
It did not amuse Gandalf or anyone else in the company, especially Frodo. After having sung it three time in a row, they ordered me to stop with many death threats as well as scared expressions. I was getting to them; this was both good thing and a bad thing.
I became quite good friends with Gimli, Merry and Pippin. On the few occasions I had let myself talk to the Fellowship other than Lara (I was usually too busy complaining, or listening to music, or just trying to stay alive) I had talked to them, especially on the way up the mountain. They were all very good company, and didn't mind each other's company and they all seemed to have an endless amount of stories to tell that kept my mind off the cold.
When the snow became very deep (up to my waist), we had to start carrying the hobbits. I offered to take one, but at first Boromir and Aragorn just shrugged me away as a nuisance. They had far too much pride. The attitude was: if he can carry two, so can I. I kept bugging them, telling them that I needed company and if a person was on my back they could talk to me more easily, and if they were that determined they should carry the same amount they could just switch around every once and a while. Finally Boromir consented. Aragorn would not have consented, just because it was me, but since Boromir did, his pride obligated him to do likewise.
I would have liked to take Frodo. He was the lightest of the hobbits and I hadn't talked to him much. But I decided not to ask since Aragorn was carrying him (he didn't trust Boromir to do so), and Aragorn would not have let me just because I was me and he probably thought I would steal the Ring or throw Frodo off a mountain. I finally settled for Pippin.
The moment I received him, I regretted my insistence. He was the heaviest of the hobbits (though I never let him know that. It was not very nice to call people who were actually lighter than you fat). I sunk deeper into the snow and it was a lot harder going up the mountain with another 70 pounds on your back. But I kept quiet, knowing Aragorn would love it if I quit right away and he could prove how much I sucked. So I shut up and kept going. I had far too much pride for my own good, just like the other two.
On the plus side though, he did keep my back warm and keep me entertained.
Eventually Gandalf called a halt, and returned down the slope a bit to a place sheltered from the wind and snow. As soon as we stopped I and everyone else became extremely cold. It was then that I learned another new and very weird fact about elves. They did not feel cold. Lara and Legolas were standing around not even putting extra cloths on. I unpacked my sleeping roll. I was about to crawl into it when Gimli came over and brought me some food. I didn't want it. I was too cold to be hungry.
"No thanks, I'm fine," I told him, shooing him away.
"You must eat, Lady April,"
"Fine I'll eat if you stop calling me Lady. I'm a girl, not a princess and certainly not a lady."
"Alright La - April," he agreed.
I took the food. It wasn't that great. It was uncooked, and tasted awful. A half-rotten apple, some very stale bread and a few nuts. I drank half- melted snow.
"Gimli," I said suddenly as he turned to leave. "Do think I'll survive this trip?"
He looked at me for a second before answering. He obviously didn't know how to respond to this question that was asked in a way that suggested that I wasn't expecting an optimistic answer, but was hoping for one. "I doubt it," he said finally, answering truthfully.
"Do you think it was a mistake for me to come?"
"Yes," he said definitely. "You would have been much happier in Rivendell. So would have, I think, the others. As for me, I would have rather stayed at Erebor with the rest of my kin."
I smiled a pitiful smile at him, and shrugged. "Not much we can do now," I said. "Oh well." This seemed to end the discussion, and Gimli wandered away. I was surprised that I felt so little self-pity and self-loathing. Maybe they balanced each other out.
I gathered up my sleeping roll and went to find the person farthest away from the edge we were near and snuggle up to them to keep warm.
I ended up cuddled between Legolas and Aragorn. Somewhere deep in my subconscious a full blown war was raging. I was between two men, one of them my enemy and the other my crush (although by day he was also my enemy). But my mind was too busy thinking about the cold and the tiredness I felt. So I went to sleep in all my cloths and my sleeping roll, still shivering, between Legolas and Aragorn.
And had some very weird dreams.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I woke in exactly the same state. Lara obviously didn't need as much sleep as Legolas, because she evidently hadn't roused him to relieve her of her watch.
We continued up the mountain. I took Pippin again. I didn't particularly want to, but I wasn't going to let Aragorn gloat. He was just waiting for me to stop and ask him or Boromir to carry the hobbit, when he would have a very good reason to laugh and call me weak. I don't know why I cared, but I had had enough of his put-downs. He would not get that chance.
Soon the rather heavy-but-not-too-heavy snowfall had turned into a full- blown blizzard. I was reduced to looking through slits, because I could not open my eyes wider than that without being blinded. I dug through snow up to my chest. I was cold, sweat drenched and my clothes were soaked through, making me even colder. We were on a ledge no more than 10 feet wide. I clung to the useless hope that it would end soon, but it didn't.
Suddenly Legolas - who had been patrolling the side with Lara to make sure no one strayed too close (in my opinion they were more likely to fall off than the rest of since they didn't have a four fout wall of snow to stop them from falling) - advanced to the front of the line.
"There is a fell voice on air," he declared. That was it. He had gone just as insane as me. He was hearing things. At least I wasn't hallucinating that badly.
"Ha! I told you," I shouted. "I'm not completely insane. Lagolas is hearing voices." I don't think anyone heard me, or if they did, they certainly didn't heed my opinion.
But Gandalf seemed to support Legolas' statement. "It's Sauruman!" he shouted.
As soon as he had finished boulders fell from somewhere above us. They landed on the edge of the ledge. I flattened myself against the inside of the trench we had dug for ourselves.
"He's trying to bring down the mountain," yelled Aragorn. "Gandalf, we must turn back!"
For once I whole-heartedly agreed with him.
"NO!" was Gandalf's insane answer. This was completely nuts. We were all going to die if we didn't get out of the blizzard.
Gandalf clambered out of the trench, only to sink back down to his knees. It was an improvement though. He began shouting in some language I didn't know, most likely the one Legolas and Aragorn spoke all the time. I couldn't tell whether it was the same or different.
As Gandalf was speaking, it seemed that the voice on the air (I could actually hear the voice now if I strained really, really, really hard) changed its speech too, or at least went to different words.
Suddenly lightning struck above us and a huge avalanche of snow and ice boulders came crashing down. I threw myself against the wall of the cliff and curled up into a little ball, covering my head and prayed that the avalanche wouldn't kill me.
It didn't, but it hurt so much I wished it had. Miraculously, I wasn't knocked out from the impact. I stayed immobile for about twenty seconds, then realized that I needed to get out, or I was going to freeze to death or run out of air. Frantically I began digging upwards, or perhaps not. I couldn't really tell. I kept sinking to wherever was down though. I began to get desperate and just kicked with my feet and dug with frozen, frost bitten hands in any direction.
Suddenly I felt a hand, or some other part of another person's body that I just assumed was a hand. I grabbed at it. It pulled me upward.
I gasped in air as my head broke the surface. I lay shivering, wet, and miserable for a while before looking up at my rescuer. Blue eyes looked down on me with a worried expression. It was the first time I had seen Legolas show any emotion. It cheered me up slightly (and by cheer up I meant that I momentarily forgot the cold for about three seconds then remembered).
"Th-thanks," I muttered through chattering teeth. I twisted around to try and get a better look at my body. I couldn't see anything too horrible, like a leg dangling at the wrong angle, but I'm sure that as soon as I undressed (and I would not remove one layer of clothing until I was at least a mile away from snow), I would find that I had done a Micheal Jackson in reverse. Black and brown bruises covering my entire white skinned body.
"Get up," he told me.
My brain sent the message to my legs that they were to move, but apparently they didn't receive it. I remained motionless, a huddled and shivering pile on snow.
"Icanth," I replied, involuntarily slurring my words.
He looked at me pityingly.
"Don't leave me here," I pleaded.
"Of course not," he responded. He pulled me gently. I warmed immediately at his touch, but as soon as it broke, the cold hit me again. It was only forgetfulness for those precious moments. I hated crushes.
"Can you stand?" he asked. I nodded.
He left me to stand huddled in my soaking cloak leaning against the cliff wall for support. I regretted nodding. Giving a negative sign would have meant more seconds of blissful forgetfulness.
Soon the rest of the fellowship began emerging. Gimli's beard had gone white. Aragorn and Boromir were just emerging, their hair covered in snow. Gandalf came up next. Lastly the hobbits poked their heads through the mounds of snow. They were shivering and wet and looked in far worse shape than I did, which was, in some disgusting twisted way, almost comforting. Well at least it satisfied my vanity knowing that I had fared better than someone for once.
"We must get off the mountain!," shouted Boromir. "Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city." My thoughts exactly, though I couldn't remember where exactly the Gap of Rohan was or which city was Boromir's.
"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isenguard!" shouted Aragorn.
All of my newfound respect for his wisdom dissipated in a metaphorical cloud of smoke. I say metaphorical because, had it been real, I could have attempted to dry and warm myself with it.
"If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it," suggested Gimli. "Let us go through the mines of Moria."
Ah now there was an idea. I cheered silently for Gimli. Since I hardly had strength to move I was not about to shout.
Gandalf looked doubtful though. He looked about to refuse. My heart sank. I was going to die on some god-forsaken mountain. Well whether I lived or died, if we kept going up I would eventually reach heaven. Unless god really had forsaken me and the mountain then I could die and go to hell where it would be warm.
"Let the Ring bearer decide?" declared Gandalf grimly.
Yes, I thought. I assumed that Frodo in his current condition would choose any alternative to this mountain. I would, but I wasn't Frodo, and from my perspective Frodo had spent far more time with Gandalf than would be recommended to keep oneself mentally stable.
"We cannot stay here!" cried Boromir. "This will be the death of the Hobbits!"
A very good point. My earlier distrust for him dissipated entirely, and was replaced by an unwavering respect for thinking up such a good excuse to get off the mountain without involving himself or me.
Gandalf ignored Boromir. "Frodo?" he asked again.
Frodo looked ready to quit. I was extremely grateful. "We will go through the mines," he declared.
Had I had the strength I would have gotten down on my hands and knees and kissed his disgusting hairy feet.
Gandalf, on the other hand looked very pained. Obviously his plan had been to kill us because he did not like the thought of getting off the mountain where we would be warm. I got it now. Gandalf had tried to sway Frodo so that Frodo would follow him like a dog, but it hadn't worked.
I shook my head. Those thoughts were not good. I was hallucithinking. There had to be a logical explanation not to go into Moria, but at that moment I just couldn't see it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: That was a pretty long chapter. Just want to tell you my readers that I may not update for a while because I have to write an original fic (which infringes on my copyright laws but that is purely coincidental) for English. It is supposed to be a short story and when my friend said 4 pages I was like ahhhh, but then she said minimum and I was like phew, and then she said it should be around 10 pages, but the teacher gave no maximum so was I was like 10 pages yah right muhahahahahahaha.
So after those interesting facts please REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!
Ciao
Mouse angel
A/N: I have had this ready for soooooo long it's unbelievable that I haven't but posted it but I am doing so now.
News in my life that you probably won't find interesting but you'll get it anyway: I just made a total fool of myself in acting, horribly degrading but fun; I will soon have seen Pirates of the Caribbean for the 7th time muahahahahahaha; yah that's about it.
The chapter. Enjoy R&R!!!!!!!!
Chapter 10
Caradhras. How I loathed that name.
It wasn't so bad at first, though the clothing left a lot to be desired. I don't care how many people say silk is warm, it is skimpy and it's what hot lap dancers wear. It was not, on the other hand, what you wore up a freezing cold mountain. But I was forced to wear them and wear them I did. I was relieved to find that I had some wool clothes, and though it was itchy, they were better than silks. I was also given a fur cloak to wear, which I refused to wear at first, but eventually the cold forced me to put it on, breaking down my animal rights principals. To my disappointment there was no fleece. That was probably due to the fact that fleece couldn't exist in BW because they had no plastic and fleece was essentially recycled plastic.
Towards the beginning it wasn't so cold so I didn't need to wear all my clothes. The snow line was quite high, despite the wintering season. But before long we reached snow. That was when I learned that elves were either super anorexic, had ultimate osteoporosis or just didn't contain all of their internal organs and bones, or just a bit of each (personally I thought Legolas looked way too skinny for his size). But whatever the reason, they were extremely light. Neither Lara nor Legolas sank on the snow even when the rest of us were up to our knees (or in the case of the hobbits, their waists) in the white snow.
For once I wasn't the one who lagged. I was actually at the front of the sinking line. This probably due to the fact that I had seen snow before, a lot, and was used to it and liked it, whereas everyone else was grumbling and muttering about the cold, wet snow. Aragorn as usual was at the back doing a sort of sweep. Every time someone stumbled or fell he would be right there to catch them.
Once Frodo fell and Aragorn as usual caught him. As he righted himself he clawed at his neck for the Ring, but found it wasn't there. How it had come off was beyond me, for it had seemed securely chained, but however the way, it was definitely not there. Frodo looked around wildly, searching for it. Boromir had picked it up, and was holding it aloft by its chain, eyeing it almost greedily. Frodo looked at him fearfully, knowing Boromir lusted greatly for the Ring (and who wouldn't? It was a talking ring after all).
"Boromir," warned Aragorn. This did not seem to wake Boromir from the trance like state that the Ring had put him in.
"It is a strange fate the we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing. So small a thing." He was still entranced by the Ring. I was thinking along the same lines, but since my two-day long lessons, where the evil of the talking Ring had been thoroughly impressed on me, I knew better, and knew Boromir was only saying that to try and get the Ring.
"Boromir," Aragorn said sharply. This time Boromir looked up. "Give the Ring back to Frodo."
Boromir slowly paced back to Frodo and Aragorn. "As you wish," he said holding out the Ring to Frodo. As soon as it came within his reach, he grabbed it, coldness replacing the fear in his eyes. I saw Aragorn take his hand away from his sword hilt as soon as Frodo got the Ring. "I care not," continued Boromir, trying to convince himself of that as well as Aragorn and the rest of us.
But Boromir did care. He had wanted the Ring, wanted it for himself. And Aragorn had been prepared to kill Boromir to keep it away from him. It was the first time that I really understood the power of the Ring and its hold on Boromir. And it frightened me.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I wasn't as bored as I had been before, because I loved playing in the snow. Sometimes I did slow down the company by falling (and Aragorn had to catch me which annoyed him sorely and therefore pleased me), I was usually far ahead capering around in the snow like a three year old. Many of the company found this rather pathetic, but Gandalf certainly didn't.
"Let her have her fun while she can. Dark days are yet to come," he would say and smile at me. A rather dark premonition, but of course I had known this was suicide from the beginning and had ignored it, and I was still pointedly trying to do so, knowing there was nothing I could do about it.
The unfortunate thing was that my particular level of fitness did not allow me to caper constantly, and when I stopped capering, I began to have warm food cravings, and since I was too tired to caper, I couldn't take my mind off of those cravings. My distraction could no longer come from the music box because Legolas still had it, and I couldn't even reach the elf because he and Lara were so far ahead, not that he would give it to me if I asked anyway.
So I was left cold, sweat drenched which had turned cold the moment I stopped capering, bored and craving a whole lot of different foods. I picked up snow in my fur lined wool mitten and began to make a patty cake out of it, in an effort to keep my hands warm. I didn't exactly work, the patty cake I mean, but my hands did get warmer. I looked at the snow and an idea hit me. A slow evil grin spread across my face.
I picked up a piece of snow and began forming it into a ball shape. I debated about my targets. I really wanted to get Aragorn but I could not get behind him, since he was doing a sweep. I settled for Legolas. He was quite far ahead, but I had a pretty good arm. I had played softball since I was five. That was the one thing I had going for me. I could throw things. If I couldn't shoot arrows or use a sword or swing an axe or blow people to smithereens with magic, then at least I could throw things at them.
And throw them I did. I hit Legolas in the lower back with my snowball.
"So close," I muttered. I meant to hit him in his butt.
He whirled around to look for the culprit. His eyes immediately fell on me. Lara also turned around as her companion stopped. She looked at me and smiled, knowing that I had done it, but she would not say a word. For once, she was on my side. I kept on walking, keeping my eyes down, trying to look innocent, but the laughter threatened to burst.
"You did it, didn't you?" he said glaring at me.
"How can you blame it on me? You don't even know it was me," I cried.
"I heard you," he informed me.
Damn, I had forgotten that.
"Why do guys always blame things on me? It could have been anyone," I whined in a last attempt to sound innocent.
"Because it is always you who does them," called Aragorn from the back.
"Hey don't get into this Aradork, or you'll get one too."
"You just admitted to doing it," Legolas told me, returning my attention to him, though my attention didn't seem to wander from him too often. "And I recognized your voice."
Since I couldn't think of a good retort, I just stuck my tongue at him and picked up some more snow. He did likewise.
"I would be careful. I have excellent shot," I informed him.
He came close to smiling. I do say close, but it was not quite there; he never actually smiled. "So do I."
We began circling each other, but Gandalf interfered.
"Enough," he ordered. "This is not helping. We must keep going."
Legolas gave me one last icy look and dropped his snowball. I was about to do the same when I had a better idea. I turned and hurled the snowball at Aragorn. It missed completely, but I felt better for having at least tried to hit him. I no longer wanted to actually hit him. I had thought it over. Legolas was very patient with me. Aragorn was not as much so, and since he probably saw no need to keep me along, he probably wouldn't hesitate to chop off my head if given a good reason.
So we continued on laboriously up the mountain. It began to snow, but soon the snow had become quite heavy. I was no longer a happy little girl; I was a depressed cranky (which I seemed to have been since I got here). I was sweating profusely and freezing. This was the definition of clammy. This was ultra-super-duper clammy. I was going to die of hypothermia from sweating. The sweat was immediately freezing on my skin as soon as it came out of wherever sweat came out of.
To pass the time the time I invented a little song. It went as such:
We're off to see the wizard
The horrible wizard of Mordor,
Because, because, because
Because of the evil little Ring we have.
Doo doo lee doo doo lee doo.
I had never really liked the Wizard of Oz, but everyone knew the 'We're off to see the wizard' song. I had put it into context for this world.
It did not amuse Gandalf or anyone else in the company, especially Frodo. After having sung it three time in a row, they ordered me to stop with many death threats as well as scared expressions. I was getting to them; this was both good thing and a bad thing.
I became quite good friends with Gimli, Merry and Pippin. On the few occasions I had let myself talk to the Fellowship other than Lara (I was usually too busy complaining, or listening to music, or just trying to stay alive) I had talked to them, especially on the way up the mountain. They were all very good company, and didn't mind each other's company and they all seemed to have an endless amount of stories to tell that kept my mind off the cold.
When the snow became very deep (up to my waist), we had to start carrying the hobbits. I offered to take one, but at first Boromir and Aragorn just shrugged me away as a nuisance. They had far too much pride. The attitude was: if he can carry two, so can I. I kept bugging them, telling them that I needed company and if a person was on my back they could talk to me more easily, and if they were that determined they should carry the same amount they could just switch around every once and a while. Finally Boromir consented. Aragorn would not have consented, just because it was me, but since Boromir did, his pride obligated him to do likewise.
I would have liked to take Frodo. He was the lightest of the hobbits and I hadn't talked to him much. But I decided not to ask since Aragorn was carrying him (he didn't trust Boromir to do so), and Aragorn would not have let me just because I was me and he probably thought I would steal the Ring or throw Frodo off a mountain. I finally settled for Pippin.
The moment I received him, I regretted my insistence. He was the heaviest of the hobbits (though I never let him know that. It was not very nice to call people who were actually lighter than you fat). I sunk deeper into the snow and it was a lot harder going up the mountain with another 70 pounds on your back. But I kept quiet, knowing Aragorn would love it if I quit right away and he could prove how much I sucked. So I shut up and kept going. I had far too much pride for my own good, just like the other two.
On the plus side though, he did keep my back warm and keep me entertained.
Eventually Gandalf called a halt, and returned down the slope a bit to a place sheltered from the wind and snow. As soon as we stopped I and everyone else became extremely cold. It was then that I learned another new and very weird fact about elves. They did not feel cold. Lara and Legolas were standing around not even putting extra cloths on. I unpacked my sleeping roll. I was about to crawl into it when Gimli came over and brought me some food. I didn't want it. I was too cold to be hungry.
"No thanks, I'm fine," I told him, shooing him away.
"You must eat, Lady April,"
"Fine I'll eat if you stop calling me Lady. I'm a girl, not a princess and certainly not a lady."
"Alright La - April," he agreed.
I took the food. It wasn't that great. It was uncooked, and tasted awful. A half-rotten apple, some very stale bread and a few nuts. I drank half- melted snow.
"Gimli," I said suddenly as he turned to leave. "Do think I'll survive this trip?"
He looked at me for a second before answering. He obviously didn't know how to respond to this question that was asked in a way that suggested that I wasn't expecting an optimistic answer, but was hoping for one. "I doubt it," he said finally, answering truthfully.
"Do you think it was a mistake for me to come?"
"Yes," he said definitely. "You would have been much happier in Rivendell. So would have, I think, the others. As for me, I would have rather stayed at Erebor with the rest of my kin."
I smiled a pitiful smile at him, and shrugged. "Not much we can do now," I said. "Oh well." This seemed to end the discussion, and Gimli wandered away. I was surprised that I felt so little self-pity and self-loathing. Maybe they balanced each other out.
I gathered up my sleeping roll and went to find the person farthest away from the edge we were near and snuggle up to them to keep warm.
I ended up cuddled between Legolas and Aragorn. Somewhere deep in my subconscious a full blown war was raging. I was between two men, one of them my enemy and the other my crush (although by day he was also my enemy). But my mind was too busy thinking about the cold and the tiredness I felt. So I went to sleep in all my cloths and my sleeping roll, still shivering, between Legolas and Aragorn.
And had some very weird dreams.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I woke in exactly the same state. Lara obviously didn't need as much sleep as Legolas, because she evidently hadn't roused him to relieve her of her watch.
We continued up the mountain. I took Pippin again. I didn't particularly want to, but I wasn't going to let Aragorn gloat. He was just waiting for me to stop and ask him or Boromir to carry the hobbit, when he would have a very good reason to laugh and call me weak. I don't know why I cared, but I had had enough of his put-downs. He would not get that chance.
Soon the rather heavy-but-not-too-heavy snowfall had turned into a full- blown blizzard. I was reduced to looking through slits, because I could not open my eyes wider than that without being blinded. I dug through snow up to my chest. I was cold, sweat drenched and my clothes were soaked through, making me even colder. We were on a ledge no more than 10 feet wide. I clung to the useless hope that it would end soon, but it didn't.
Suddenly Legolas - who had been patrolling the side with Lara to make sure no one strayed too close (in my opinion they were more likely to fall off than the rest of since they didn't have a four fout wall of snow to stop them from falling) - advanced to the front of the line.
"There is a fell voice on air," he declared. That was it. He had gone just as insane as me. He was hearing things. At least I wasn't hallucinating that badly.
"Ha! I told you," I shouted. "I'm not completely insane. Lagolas is hearing voices." I don't think anyone heard me, or if they did, they certainly didn't heed my opinion.
But Gandalf seemed to support Legolas' statement. "It's Sauruman!" he shouted.
As soon as he had finished boulders fell from somewhere above us. They landed on the edge of the ledge. I flattened myself against the inside of the trench we had dug for ourselves.
"He's trying to bring down the mountain," yelled Aragorn. "Gandalf, we must turn back!"
For once I whole-heartedly agreed with him.
"NO!" was Gandalf's insane answer. This was completely nuts. We were all going to die if we didn't get out of the blizzard.
Gandalf clambered out of the trench, only to sink back down to his knees. It was an improvement though. He began shouting in some language I didn't know, most likely the one Legolas and Aragorn spoke all the time. I couldn't tell whether it was the same or different.
As Gandalf was speaking, it seemed that the voice on the air (I could actually hear the voice now if I strained really, really, really hard) changed its speech too, or at least went to different words.
Suddenly lightning struck above us and a huge avalanche of snow and ice boulders came crashing down. I threw myself against the wall of the cliff and curled up into a little ball, covering my head and prayed that the avalanche wouldn't kill me.
It didn't, but it hurt so much I wished it had. Miraculously, I wasn't knocked out from the impact. I stayed immobile for about twenty seconds, then realized that I needed to get out, or I was going to freeze to death or run out of air. Frantically I began digging upwards, or perhaps not. I couldn't really tell. I kept sinking to wherever was down though. I began to get desperate and just kicked with my feet and dug with frozen, frost bitten hands in any direction.
Suddenly I felt a hand, or some other part of another person's body that I just assumed was a hand. I grabbed at it. It pulled me upward.
I gasped in air as my head broke the surface. I lay shivering, wet, and miserable for a while before looking up at my rescuer. Blue eyes looked down on me with a worried expression. It was the first time I had seen Legolas show any emotion. It cheered me up slightly (and by cheer up I meant that I momentarily forgot the cold for about three seconds then remembered).
"Th-thanks," I muttered through chattering teeth. I twisted around to try and get a better look at my body. I couldn't see anything too horrible, like a leg dangling at the wrong angle, but I'm sure that as soon as I undressed (and I would not remove one layer of clothing until I was at least a mile away from snow), I would find that I had done a Micheal Jackson in reverse. Black and brown bruises covering my entire white skinned body.
"Get up," he told me.
My brain sent the message to my legs that they were to move, but apparently they didn't receive it. I remained motionless, a huddled and shivering pile on snow.
"Icanth," I replied, involuntarily slurring my words.
He looked at me pityingly.
"Don't leave me here," I pleaded.
"Of course not," he responded. He pulled me gently. I warmed immediately at his touch, but as soon as it broke, the cold hit me again. It was only forgetfulness for those precious moments. I hated crushes.
"Can you stand?" he asked. I nodded.
He left me to stand huddled in my soaking cloak leaning against the cliff wall for support. I regretted nodding. Giving a negative sign would have meant more seconds of blissful forgetfulness.
Soon the rest of the fellowship began emerging. Gimli's beard had gone white. Aragorn and Boromir were just emerging, their hair covered in snow. Gandalf came up next. Lastly the hobbits poked their heads through the mounds of snow. They were shivering and wet and looked in far worse shape than I did, which was, in some disgusting twisted way, almost comforting. Well at least it satisfied my vanity knowing that I had fared better than someone for once.
"We must get off the mountain!," shouted Boromir. "Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city." My thoughts exactly, though I couldn't remember where exactly the Gap of Rohan was or which city was Boromir's.
"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isenguard!" shouted Aragorn.
All of my newfound respect for his wisdom dissipated in a metaphorical cloud of smoke. I say metaphorical because, had it been real, I could have attempted to dry and warm myself with it.
"If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it," suggested Gimli. "Let us go through the mines of Moria."
Ah now there was an idea. I cheered silently for Gimli. Since I hardly had strength to move I was not about to shout.
Gandalf looked doubtful though. He looked about to refuse. My heart sank. I was going to die on some god-forsaken mountain. Well whether I lived or died, if we kept going up I would eventually reach heaven. Unless god really had forsaken me and the mountain then I could die and go to hell where it would be warm.
"Let the Ring bearer decide?" declared Gandalf grimly.
Yes, I thought. I assumed that Frodo in his current condition would choose any alternative to this mountain. I would, but I wasn't Frodo, and from my perspective Frodo had spent far more time with Gandalf than would be recommended to keep oneself mentally stable.
"We cannot stay here!" cried Boromir. "This will be the death of the Hobbits!"
A very good point. My earlier distrust for him dissipated entirely, and was replaced by an unwavering respect for thinking up such a good excuse to get off the mountain without involving himself or me.
Gandalf ignored Boromir. "Frodo?" he asked again.
Frodo looked ready to quit. I was extremely grateful. "We will go through the mines," he declared.
Had I had the strength I would have gotten down on my hands and knees and kissed his disgusting hairy feet.
Gandalf, on the other hand looked very pained. Obviously his plan had been to kill us because he did not like the thought of getting off the mountain where we would be warm. I got it now. Gandalf had tried to sway Frodo so that Frodo would follow him like a dog, but it hadn't worked.
I shook my head. Those thoughts were not good. I was hallucithinking. There had to be a logical explanation not to go into Moria, but at that moment I just couldn't see it.
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A/N: That was a pretty long chapter. Just want to tell you my readers that I may not update for a while because I have to write an original fic (which infringes on my copyright laws but that is purely coincidental) for English. It is supposed to be a short story and when my friend said 4 pages I was like ahhhh, but then she said minimum and I was like phew, and then she said it should be around 10 pages, but the teacher gave no maximum so was I was like 10 pages yah right muhahahahahahaha.
So after those interesting facts please REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!
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Mouse angel