Author's Apology: In chapter six, I realize I made a really stupid mistake. I use the phrase "falled asleep." My most sincere apologies, when I reread the chapter after I uploaded it, I saw that spelling bleb, and wondered if you considered me now with a lower intelligence, since Legolas "falled" asleep. Sorry. It shouldn't happen again, but it probably will.
Chapter Seven
In the morning, we set back out into the bitter cold to face Caradhras again. Gandalf still had not returned.
As I slung a pack on my back, Pippin drew near me, rumaging through his own bag.
"I saw your assault. Lovely job." he said softly, grinning. I grinned too, glad someone had seen my victory.
My spirits lifted slightly, the cold blast of wind as we exited the tunnel didn't bother me as much as it would have normally.
By afternoon, Aragorn explained that we had probably reached the highest we would be climbing, and now it was all downhill. I noticed that Frodo kept stealing glances behind us.
"What?" I asked finally. Frodo ignored me, and caught up with Aragorn, and inquired, "What about Gandalf?"
"I do not doubt that he will return to us. Perchance he had other business to attend to." Aragorn supplied. Frodo nodded, and fell back with the other Hobbits and Bill.
As we continued on a narrow ledge alongside the mountain, I felt a change in the wind. Something was different, and it felt.. not good, I'll leave it at that. It made me feel uneasy. I looked around to see if anyone else noticed, but if they did, their expression didn't reveal it.
The once light snow thickened, and as the sun was setting the makings of another blizzard were on hand.
Suddenly, Legolas, atop the snow, sprinted forward, and looked out into the snow and wind. "There is a fell voice on the wind." he exclaimed, looking back at us.
"Saruman!" Aragorn yelled, and made his way to Legolas's side. I glanced up worriedly at the overhang of snow and rock right above us. The vibrations of Aragorn's cry had made the projection tremble ominously.
I unobtrusively trudged through the snow over to the wall of the cliff, and looked back up. Portions of snow fell like an intermitant storm down on us, lightly enough that no one else even noticed.
Aragorn, in an attempt, I can only assume, to contend with Gandalf's skill, began hollering Elvish southwards.
More snow fell, more thickly than before.
"Stop that!" I shouted at Aragorn. He ceased immediately, and whirled to glare at me. I was about to explain my reasoning when the avalanch came.
My guess is that the combination of Aragorn's shouts and my idotic outburst was enough to trigger the fall. With a one word order from Boromir, we all threw ourselves against the wall of the cliff. The waterfall of snow swept me off my feet, disorienting me and reminding me that there was nothing stopping me from being swept a mere ten or twelve feet and off into thin, cold air.
The thought wasn't optimistic. I curled myself into a tight ball, hoping that somehow the magic of moviemakers would protect me from falling like it protected the fellowship in the movie.
Something seized my ankle. Out of some demented insticts, I kicked out, making contact with ...something or someone. The grip only tightened, and then the snow was swept from my face. My orientation returned immediately, and I nearly wretched at what I saw.
I was lying on my stomach, and my head and shoulders were off the edge. Below me fell the snow, and farther down were treacherous pinnacles and gorges. I jerked back, flailing desperately away from the edge.
As soon as I was away from the edge, I dug in the snow to help whoever had held my ankle, and probably saved my life.
My chapped hands found something solid, and I heaved the person from the snow. A lamenting gasp hissed through my teeth as I withdrew a golden-blonde curly haired head from the snow.
"Merry!" I exclaimed, yanking the rest of him up. He was unconscious. His whole forehead was covered in blood, and still more was issuing horrendously, as all head cuts do. I hastily ripped the hem off my shirt, and tried to clean up the mess.
I was relieved to find he had only recieved a small cut above his brow, and wrapped a clean strip from my shirt around his head.
By that time, most of the others had emerged from the snow.
"Merry!" I heard Pippin cry, and he approached us, looking at his friend, full of concern. Merry roused himself, and looked around blearily.
"Wha' happened?" Pippin asked.
"I was in the snow, and then I grabbed something, but that something hit me in the head." he said, rubbing his brow.
"I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, feeling like a real loser. I had kicked the saver of my life. Merry looked startled at me for a second, then shied away.
"We should have gone through the mines." Gimli said sulkily as he examined a dent in one of his many axes from a falling rock.
"This is our path." Aragorn replied sternly, and, giving a cursory check of us all, continued, "We must perservere as far as we can. We will not let this mountain defeat us."
Gimli gave a growl of disapproval, but said nothing else.
We continued, as if nothing had happened. I trudged along slowly behind them, every muscle in my body aching. Things could have gone worse, I guess, but not by much.
At nightfall, Boromir guessed we could reach the base of the mountain in two days. When I asked him what made him so sure, he glared at me, and 'forgot' to give me food from his bag until Aragorn reminded him.
I watched the others settle down for the night. I pulled a thin blanket from my pack, and wrapped it tightly around myself, still shivering in the cold.
Night was when it was the coldest. During the day, though the sun was veiled by steely clouds, we kept pace, and walking kept us somewhat warm. Now, it was dark, and I wasn't moving, and had time to think of my pathetic state and feel sorry for myself.
.
In the morning, Aragorn sent Legolas on ahead to see if there were any dangers on our path. He returned an hour later, looking weary, but not from exhaustion.
"Alas, Boromir was correct in saying two days, but it will not be easy. The snow deepens, the path narrows, sharp, thick ice forms on the snow, and a storm approaches."
The Bringer of Bad News sighed, and looked at Aragorn.
"We could-" Gimli began hopefully, but Aragorn whirled around at him, and pushed a bit more forcefully than he probably intended.
"Nay Master Gimli!" he snapped, "We will not go through your precious mines. We are near the end of this part of our journey, and I will not make these Hobbits turn around, and go back up the mountain so you can feel more at ease."
Gimli scowled, and skulked away. Aragorn turned back to Legolas, "We shall continue on our way."
Legolas nodded, and went to aid the Hobbits in packing. Feeling useless, as always, I shoved my blanket in the pack, and stood up.
We set out again, and everything Legolas reported was true. The snow rose to my knees, and walking was a great difficulty in itself. The top of the snow was covered in a thin layer of ice, which dug into my legs like knives.
At this time I hated the Elves more than usual. While we humans and hobbits stumbled and tore through the snow, Legolas wandered above us, his feet light on the icy snow.
Elf envy: We all had it.
~*~*~*~*~*~ No reviews from chapter 6, so I don't have anything to reply to. :Weeps:
Chapter Seven
In the morning, we set back out into the bitter cold to face Caradhras again. Gandalf still had not returned.
As I slung a pack on my back, Pippin drew near me, rumaging through his own bag.
"I saw your assault. Lovely job." he said softly, grinning. I grinned too, glad someone had seen my victory.
My spirits lifted slightly, the cold blast of wind as we exited the tunnel didn't bother me as much as it would have normally.
By afternoon, Aragorn explained that we had probably reached the highest we would be climbing, and now it was all downhill. I noticed that Frodo kept stealing glances behind us.
"What?" I asked finally. Frodo ignored me, and caught up with Aragorn, and inquired, "What about Gandalf?"
"I do not doubt that he will return to us. Perchance he had other business to attend to." Aragorn supplied. Frodo nodded, and fell back with the other Hobbits and Bill.
As we continued on a narrow ledge alongside the mountain, I felt a change in the wind. Something was different, and it felt.. not good, I'll leave it at that. It made me feel uneasy. I looked around to see if anyone else noticed, but if they did, their expression didn't reveal it.
The once light snow thickened, and as the sun was setting the makings of another blizzard were on hand.
Suddenly, Legolas, atop the snow, sprinted forward, and looked out into the snow and wind. "There is a fell voice on the wind." he exclaimed, looking back at us.
"Saruman!" Aragorn yelled, and made his way to Legolas's side. I glanced up worriedly at the overhang of snow and rock right above us. The vibrations of Aragorn's cry had made the projection tremble ominously.
I unobtrusively trudged through the snow over to the wall of the cliff, and looked back up. Portions of snow fell like an intermitant storm down on us, lightly enough that no one else even noticed.
Aragorn, in an attempt, I can only assume, to contend with Gandalf's skill, began hollering Elvish southwards.
More snow fell, more thickly than before.
"Stop that!" I shouted at Aragorn. He ceased immediately, and whirled to glare at me. I was about to explain my reasoning when the avalanch came.
My guess is that the combination of Aragorn's shouts and my idotic outburst was enough to trigger the fall. With a one word order from Boromir, we all threw ourselves against the wall of the cliff. The waterfall of snow swept me off my feet, disorienting me and reminding me that there was nothing stopping me from being swept a mere ten or twelve feet and off into thin, cold air.
The thought wasn't optimistic. I curled myself into a tight ball, hoping that somehow the magic of moviemakers would protect me from falling like it protected the fellowship in the movie.
Something seized my ankle. Out of some demented insticts, I kicked out, making contact with ...something or someone. The grip only tightened, and then the snow was swept from my face. My orientation returned immediately, and I nearly wretched at what I saw.
I was lying on my stomach, and my head and shoulders were off the edge. Below me fell the snow, and farther down were treacherous pinnacles and gorges. I jerked back, flailing desperately away from the edge.
As soon as I was away from the edge, I dug in the snow to help whoever had held my ankle, and probably saved my life.
My chapped hands found something solid, and I heaved the person from the snow. A lamenting gasp hissed through my teeth as I withdrew a golden-blonde curly haired head from the snow.
"Merry!" I exclaimed, yanking the rest of him up. He was unconscious. His whole forehead was covered in blood, and still more was issuing horrendously, as all head cuts do. I hastily ripped the hem off my shirt, and tried to clean up the mess.
I was relieved to find he had only recieved a small cut above his brow, and wrapped a clean strip from my shirt around his head.
By that time, most of the others had emerged from the snow.
"Merry!" I heard Pippin cry, and he approached us, looking at his friend, full of concern. Merry roused himself, and looked around blearily.
"Wha' happened?" Pippin asked.
"I was in the snow, and then I grabbed something, but that something hit me in the head." he said, rubbing his brow.
"I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, feeling like a real loser. I had kicked the saver of my life. Merry looked startled at me for a second, then shied away.
"We should have gone through the mines." Gimli said sulkily as he examined a dent in one of his many axes from a falling rock.
"This is our path." Aragorn replied sternly, and, giving a cursory check of us all, continued, "We must perservere as far as we can. We will not let this mountain defeat us."
Gimli gave a growl of disapproval, but said nothing else.
We continued, as if nothing had happened. I trudged along slowly behind them, every muscle in my body aching. Things could have gone worse, I guess, but not by much.
At nightfall, Boromir guessed we could reach the base of the mountain in two days. When I asked him what made him so sure, he glared at me, and 'forgot' to give me food from his bag until Aragorn reminded him.
I watched the others settle down for the night. I pulled a thin blanket from my pack, and wrapped it tightly around myself, still shivering in the cold.
Night was when it was the coldest. During the day, though the sun was veiled by steely clouds, we kept pace, and walking kept us somewhat warm. Now, it was dark, and I wasn't moving, and had time to think of my pathetic state and feel sorry for myself.
.
In the morning, Aragorn sent Legolas on ahead to see if there were any dangers on our path. He returned an hour later, looking weary, but not from exhaustion.
"Alas, Boromir was correct in saying two days, but it will not be easy. The snow deepens, the path narrows, sharp, thick ice forms on the snow, and a storm approaches."
The Bringer of Bad News sighed, and looked at Aragorn.
"We could-" Gimli began hopefully, but Aragorn whirled around at him, and pushed a bit more forcefully than he probably intended.
"Nay Master Gimli!" he snapped, "We will not go through your precious mines. We are near the end of this part of our journey, and I will not make these Hobbits turn around, and go back up the mountain so you can feel more at ease."
Gimli scowled, and skulked away. Aragorn turned back to Legolas, "We shall continue on our way."
Legolas nodded, and went to aid the Hobbits in packing. Feeling useless, as always, I shoved my blanket in the pack, and stood up.
We set out again, and everything Legolas reported was true. The snow rose to my knees, and walking was a great difficulty in itself. The top of the snow was covered in a thin layer of ice, which dug into my legs like knives.
At this time I hated the Elves more than usual. While we humans and hobbits stumbled and tore through the snow, Legolas wandered above us, his feet light on the icy snow.
Elf envy: We all had it.
~*~*~*~*~*~ No reviews from chapter 6, so I don't have anything to reply to. :Weeps: