Chapter Eight
By afternoon, I was all for going back up the mountains and through the goblin-infested mines. The ice had rubbed my legs raw, and the snow was now to my waist. My face was chapped from the strong bitter wind, and my fingers... Well, I couldn't feel them, so I can't describe how cold they were.
The hobbits were behind us all, following in the broken snow. We stopped for a break, and I collapsed in the snow, panting from the effort of walking.
"How fair ye, Hobbits?" Aragorn asked, in exceptionally old English.
"The path is difficult, but we are fine." Frodo replied.
"No we're not, Frodo!" Sam exclaimed. The blonde Hobbit turned aggressively to Aragorn, and began, "Begging your pardon, Strider, but my feet are frozen, we're all hungry, and Merry reckons he's sick."
"Meriodoc?" Aragorn demanded. Merry reddened, and approached him.
"Are you ill?"
"No."
Aragorn looked hard at Merry for a long time. Merry turned his eyes to the ground.
"My head pounds, and I'm too tired to walk."
"How did you get that?" Aragorn asked distractedly, gesturing to the cut. Merry gave a long look at me, and replied, "I tripped, and hit some ice."
I wanted to go kiss that lying hobbit and dance around the snow, despite my weariness. He had lied to keep me from being shunned, and further distrusted from the others.
"We must continue." Legolas said abrubtly.
"First we need to help the little ones." Boromir countered, "I will carry Master Meriodoc on my back if I must."
Aragorn nodded, "Come Frodo, I will carry you." The Ringbearer gave a look of relief, and obeyed. Legolas opted for carrying Sam.
"I'll take the last." Gimli volunteered. Aragon smiled, "Nay, Master Gimli, you are not much taller than they yourselves. Eleanor will carry Pippin."
Gimli shrugged, and Pippin, giving an unsure smile, drew near to me. "I'm no' tha' heaveh." he said. I grinned, then winced at the chappedness of my cheeks.
I bent on one knee, and Pippin hopped on my back. I felt like I was giving a piggy-back ride to one of my nephews, because Pippin was the size of a child, and lighter than I expected.
His hands went on my shoulders, and I caught his feet in the crook of either arm, and stood up. It seemed all of us had differed ideas of carrying the hobbits. Boromir was holding Merry like one would hold a sack of potatoes, and Aragorn was holding Frodo like he was a large infant. I looked to see how Legolas was faring with Sam, and nearly laughed.
Sam, as you probably know, is no feather. Legolas was intending on carrying him the same way as I, but was still bent by Sam's weight. We finally continued on our way down the mountain.
.
At nightfall, the storm struck. By this time, the snow was to my chest, and my back was giving out from carrying Pippin all afternoon and evening.
We struggled on. Snow flurried into my face and eyes, causing me to blink rapidly, and limiting my sight.
"We cannot stop yet!" Aragorn yelled to us, and Legolas finished, "Just a bit farther is a small indention in the rock, and we can use it for shelter."
By small indention, he meant small. It was about three feet into the rock, and about ten feet long. However, the snow was shallower, because of the angle the snow fell, and there was a wall of snow two feet high somewhat protecting us.
I deposited Pippin with the other hobbits, and curled up in the corner.
.
I dreamed I was in castle ruins. I was wandering around looking for Bill the Pony, but I couldn't remember what he looked like. Finally, I came across a giant lump of clay, and decided that that must be Bill. Then the clay changed into Gandalf, who called me a fool of a Quame, and said it was my fault he was dead. As I was telling him that it couldn't have been me, I was shaken awake.
"Wake up, Lady Sluggard." Aragorn hissed, prodding my shoulder. My eyelids felt too heavy, and my whole body ached.
I tried to prop myself up, but my elbows shook from the strain, and I fell back.
"What is keeping us?" Boromir demanded, glaring at me.
"I'm sick." I admitted, feeling my neck, which was too warm for the cold circumstances. Aragorn narrowed his brow in consternation, and rose to his feet, looking down hard at me.
Finally, he went to the other side of the incropping, and led Bill over. Without a word, he began unstrapping the packs from the pony's back, and putting them in a pile. When Bill had been lightened of everything, Aragorn threw his blanket over its back, and turned to me.
"You will ride Bill for one day, but tomorrow you must walk. The pony can only take so much strain."
I nodded miserably, and Aragorn helped me to my feet, and onto the pony. Then the ranger divided up the bags between himself, Boromir, and Gimli.
"I can carry Merry and Pippin." Boromir volunteered.
"I shall carry Frodo." Legolas said hastily.
And we were off again. Much slower than usual. Bill meandered behind the others, and his back was very uncomfortable, but somehow I fell asleep again.
When I woke, it was late afternoon. We were below timberline, and the Hobbits were able to walk without aid. We were now traveling through a forest of straggly and thin pine trees.
It seemed whatever ailed Merry the other day had dimished, for he and Pippin were talking happily about the Shire, and I wondered how their spirits could be so light.
"We should reach the bottom by nightfall." Aragorn informed us all as we took a short break. That was a good enough reason for us all to be in better moods.
Even Gimli, whom I had seen naught but sulk for the whole mountain journey seemed cheered. Boromir handed around thawing pieces of deer meat for us all, I gnawed on mine for awhile, and tried to keep warm.
"How much food have we left?" Aragorn asked suddenly. Boromir rifled through the bag, and his face fell.
"Not enough for all of us to eat another meal." he replied.
"Ay, 'tis fortune that we Elves need not eat nor drink, or we would have even less." Legolas stated.
He had a good point, but I was still tempted to kick him
.
True to Aragorn's word, we reached the base of the mountain as darkness fell.
"We must go south past Lorien in the morning." Aragorn declared.
"The Elves?!" Gimli demanded, his sulkiness returning.
"That is our path." Legolas retorted smugly.
"First we scale a mountain instead of going under it, and now we seek the hospitality of the Elves, or lack there of!" the Dwarf raged.
"Perhaps you should have considered things such as this before you volunteered to be a part of the Fellowship." Legolas suggested, his face nearly radiating with contempt-satisfaction. Gimli gave something like a growl, and began sharpening one of his axes, muttering darkly about Elves. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Laureline: Wow, I didn't realize I had it set on accepting only signed reviews, so that's changed. Thanks. Ah, logicalness is a wonderful thing... chibi-mairi: This chapter would ave gotten out earlier, but my Mac was being tempermental.
By afternoon, I was all for going back up the mountains and through the goblin-infested mines. The ice had rubbed my legs raw, and the snow was now to my waist. My face was chapped from the strong bitter wind, and my fingers... Well, I couldn't feel them, so I can't describe how cold they were.
The hobbits were behind us all, following in the broken snow. We stopped for a break, and I collapsed in the snow, panting from the effort of walking.
"How fair ye, Hobbits?" Aragorn asked, in exceptionally old English.
"The path is difficult, but we are fine." Frodo replied.
"No we're not, Frodo!" Sam exclaimed. The blonde Hobbit turned aggressively to Aragorn, and began, "Begging your pardon, Strider, but my feet are frozen, we're all hungry, and Merry reckons he's sick."
"Meriodoc?" Aragorn demanded. Merry reddened, and approached him.
"Are you ill?"
"No."
Aragorn looked hard at Merry for a long time. Merry turned his eyes to the ground.
"My head pounds, and I'm too tired to walk."
"How did you get that?" Aragorn asked distractedly, gesturing to the cut. Merry gave a long look at me, and replied, "I tripped, and hit some ice."
I wanted to go kiss that lying hobbit and dance around the snow, despite my weariness. He had lied to keep me from being shunned, and further distrusted from the others.
"We must continue." Legolas said abrubtly.
"First we need to help the little ones." Boromir countered, "I will carry Master Meriodoc on my back if I must."
Aragorn nodded, "Come Frodo, I will carry you." The Ringbearer gave a look of relief, and obeyed. Legolas opted for carrying Sam.
"I'll take the last." Gimli volunteered. Aragon smiled, "Nay, Master Gimli, you are not much taller than they yourselves. Eleanor will carry Pippin."
Gimli shrugged, and Pippin, giving an unsure smile, drew near to me. "I'm no' tha' heaveh." he said. I grinned, then winced at the chappedness of my cheeks.
I bent on one knee, and Pippin hopped on my back. I felt like I was giving a piggy-back ride to one of my nephews, because Pippin was the size of a child, and lighter than I expected.
His hands went on my shoulders, and I caught his feet in the crook of either arm, and stood up. It seemed all of us had differed ideas of carrying the hobbits. Boromir was holding Merry like one would hold a sack of potatoes, and Aragorn was holding Frodo like he was a large infant. I looked to see how Legolas was faring with Sam, and nearly laughed.
Sam, as you probably know, is no feather. Legolas was intending on carrying him the same way as I, but was still bent by Sam's weight. We finally continued on our way down the mountain.
.
At nightfall, the storm struck. By this time, the snow was to my chest, and my back was giving out from carrying Pippin all afternoon and evening.
We struggled on. Snow flurried into my face and eyes, causing me to blink rapidly, and limiting my sight.
"We cannot stop yet!" Aragorn yelled to us, and Legolas finished, "Just a bit farther is a small indention in the rock, and we can use it for shelter."
By small indention, he meant small. It was about three feet into the rock, and about ten feet long. However, the snow was shallower, because of the angle the snow fell, and there was a wall of snow two feet high somewhat protecting us.
I deposited Pippin with the other hobbits, and curled up in the corner.
.
I dreamed I was in castle ruins. I was wandering around looking for Bill the Pony, but I couldn't remember what he looked like. Finally, I came across a giant lump of clay, and decided that that must be Bill. Then the clay changed into Gandalf, who called me a fool of a Quame, and said it was my fault he was dead. As I was telling him that it couldn't have been me, I was shaken awake.
"Wake up, Lady Sluggard." Aragorn hissed, prodding my shoulder. My eyelids felt too heavy, and my whole body ached.
I tried to prop myself up, but my elbows shook from the strain, and I fell back.
"What is keeping us?" Boromir demanded, glaring at me.
"I'm sick." I admitted, feeling my neck, which was too warm for the cold circumstances. Aragorn narrowed his brow in consternation, and rose to his feet, looking down hard at me.
Finally, he went to the other side of the incropping, and led Bill over. Without a word, he began unstrapping the packs from the pony's back, and putting them in a pile. When Bill had been lightened of everything, Aragorn threw his blanket over its back, and turned to me.
"You will ride Bill for one day, but tomorrow you must walk. The pony can only take so much strain."
I nodded miserably, and Aragorn helped me to my feet, and onto the pony. Then the ranger divided up the bags between himself, Boromir, and Gimli.
"I can carry Merry and Pippin." Boromir volunteered.
"I shall carry Frodo." Legolas said hastily.
And we were off again. Much slower than usual. Bill meandered behind the others, and his back was very uncomfortable, but somehow I fell asleep again.
When I woke, it was late afternoon. We were below timberline, and the Hobbits were able to walk without aid. We were now traveling through a forest of straggly and thin pine trees.
It seemed whatever ailed Merry the other day had dimished, for he and Pippin were talking happily about the Shire, and I wondered how their spirits could be so light.
"We should reach the bottom by nightfall." Aragorn informed us all as we took a short break. That was a good enough reason for us all to be in better moods.
Even Gimli, whom I had seen naught but sulk for the whole mountain journey seemed cheered. Boromir handed around thawing pieces of deer meat for us all, I gnawed on mine for awhile, and tried to keep warm.
"How much food have we left?" Aragorn asked suddenly. Boromir rifled through the bag, and his face fell.
"Not enough for all of us to eat another meal." he replied.
"Ay, 'tis fortune that we Elves need not eat nor drink, or we would have even less." Legolas stated.
He had a good point, but I was still tempted to kick him
.
True to Aragorn's word, we reached the base of the mountain as darkness fell.
"We must go south past Lorien in the morning." Aragorn declared.
"The Elves?!" Gimli demanded, his sulkiness returning.
"That is our path." Legolas retorted smugly.
"First we scale a mountain instead of going under it, and now we seek the hospitality of the Elves, or lack there of!" the Dwarf raged.
"Perhaps you should have considered things such as this before you volunteered to be a part of the Fellowship." Legolas suggested, his face nearly radiating with contempt-satisfaction. Gimli gave something like a growl, and began sharpening one of his axes, muttering darkly about Elves. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Laureline: Wow, I didn't realize I had it set on accepting only signed reviews, so that's changed. Thanks. Ah, logicalness is a wonderful thing... chibi-mairi: This chapter would ave gotten out earlier, but my Mac was being tempermental.