Chapter Five: The Redhorn Pass

Disclaimer: I don't own The Lord of the Rings, I would never presume to claim such a thing...

A/N: This chapter took me ages t' bloody write, so I expect some reviews!

I stood at the foot of the mountains for a while, overawed bye their immensity. The caps were hidden by cloud, and could not be guessed.

When I turned back to the group, Gandalf was talking. I couldn't hear what he was saying so I moved closer. I heard

"Watched... weather... coming up behind... snow... two marches before..." then, as I finally came within normal hearing range, "Dark shall come early this evening. We must leave as soon and you can get ready."

When it appeared he was done, Boromir spoke up.

"I will add a word of advice, if I may. I was born under the shadow of these mountains and know something about journeys in the high places. We shall meet bitter cold, and snow, if no worse, before we come down. It will not help to keep so secret we are frozen to death. When we leave here where there are still a few trees, each of us ought to bring a faggot of wood, as large as he can-"

"Ahem."

Boromir swiveled around.

"Oh Boromir..." this was said in my most honeyed of tones. "May I remind you that some of us are not, in fact, men." Merry snorted, and Frodo smiled wanly. I grinned in the Man's direction.

"Ahem. As large as they can bear."

I inclined my head slightly in his direction, clasping my palms in the attitude of a monk.

"And Bill c'n take a bit more, couldn't ye, lad?" I grinned at the melancholy look that seemed to pass over the pony's face.

"Very well," said Gandalf, sounding irritable, though his eyes twinkled with silent mirth, "But- and pay heed to me- we must not use the wood, not unless it is a choice between fire and death."

For the first day of our trek up to the Redhorn Gate, if you can believe it, I was enjoying myself. I had never seen mountains so majestic and fantastically tall. The cold air was refreshing on my face, and the snow that dusted the rock on either side of path did not lower my spirits, as it did the others, quite the contrary, in fact. However, as we started out our second say, things began to look down.

A chill northerly wind blew, cutting through cloth and skin, too. It seemed to bite at the bones. The high sun was covered up with glowering clouds, and snow began to fall heavily.

I felt sorry for the hobbits, most of whom had never seen a real snowfall. I was used to it, and though I was chilly, I didn't feel the need to wrap up in my cloak, or clutch my arms to my chest.

My calves had been aching from all the trudging through snow that now went up to my knees; now, I couldn't feel them at all. The snow was up to my waist now, and my thighs retained feeling, but this seemed almost only so I could tell how much they ached.

I huddled down inside my woolen jacket, trying to remember the time when I got lost outside in -40 degree cold with nothing but a jacket. This was nothing, I told myself, compared with that.

I turned to Pippin, to try and distract myself with light conversation, but it was obvious that he was not up to light conversation.

His face was white- as white as the snow he was half buried in and his hair and freckles stood out painfully against it. His eyes were screwed up against the cold, and he shivered uncontrollably, his teeth chattering. He rubbed his arms together frantically, looking at me.

"Ah-Ah-Ah. Ah c-cannae feel me- me arms-s-s."

I nodded, and turned away from him, to whoever was in front of me. It was difficult to tell, through the whirling snow, but I thought it was Boromir.

"Oy! Boromir!" I yelled, using all my considerable lung power "We have to stop!! We! Have! To! Stop! Lookit the Hobbits!"

When he understood, and examined Merry and Pippin, who were in the worst state- Frodo was up front with Gandalf- he nodded, and plowed forward, bulling his way through the snow until he reached the Wizard.

I continued forward blindly, until Boromir came back.

"Haleth! The Halflings! We must carry them! Can you take Pippin?!"

"Sure!" I bellowed back.

We had halted for a moment, and I saw Boromir pick up Merry and put Sam on Bill's (The pony) back. Pippin, when I picked him up, was sleepy with cold.

"Ah c'n walk... pu' me doon..." he struggled feebly, and I could tell he knew he was in no state to walk any further.

"You shuttup Pip. Ye know yer in no fit state ta walk a... a... I dunno, but yer not."

"Urff!" I grunted as I hoisted his weight up. My legs almost buckled, but I managed to stay upright. Pippin was a relatively slim hobbit- that was fortunate. He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my neck. His breath misted my chin, and I swallowed hard.

We continued until I almost forgot I had and armful of unconscious hobbit, I was numb and freezing and exhausted. For hours it seemed, we slogged through the ever-mounting snowdrifts, until Gandalf called a halt.

"We'll rest here for the night- it would appear that we need to recover our strength."

I caught the irony in his voice on the last remark, and saw that he himself was sagging, leaning heavily on his staff. I rubbed my clasped hands on my jacket, trying to unfreeze them so I could let go of Pippin. He woke abruptly when I dropped him on the ground.

"Oops- sorry 'bout that."

He shivered and tried vainly to move his fingers and toes.

"Here."

I bent down and started massaging his hands and feet- they were as cold as ice. As the circulation gradually returned to the hobbit's extremities, he gasped with pain.

"Ye alright now?"

"Better." He replied with a smile, that, even for him was more like a grimace.

"Right- I'm gonna take care of the others."

I went over to Merry and did the same thing, instructing Boromir to help Sam.

When everyone was in reasonably better shape, the question of fire was raised. What to do? We were all as cold as any of us (save Gandalf, but he really didn't count) could remember, and surely if we fell asleep without a fire we would simply freeze in our sleep and die, or be covered by drifts and suffocate, and then die. Either way, the prospects didn't look good, but what if we needed the wood more later?

"Come Gandalf," said Boromir, who was sharing his fur lined cloak with poor Pippin, the worst off of any of us. "Surely now the choice is between fire and death."

I could tell the rest of the Fellowship agreed with him, but none spoke.

Gandalf looked at Pippin, and his face, for once, was easy to read: he felt awful. He could see the hobbits could not last much longer, but his wariness of being caught was fighting a valiant fight. Suddenly he relented.

"You may make a fire, if you can. If there are any watchers that can endure this storm, than they may see us, fire or no."

As it turned out, no one could strike a flame in the wet and frozen wood, not even Gimli, Dwarf though he was. Finally Gandalf took a hand.

"Come- hand me a log, here."

He took the faggot Aragorn handed him and held it aloft.

"Naur an edraith amen!"

The log erupted in a great gout of red-golden flame which even the howling wind did not extinguish.

"Well, if any are here to see, I have written Gandalf is here in signs all can read from Rivendell to the mouths of Anduin."

He placed it on the pile of wood, and Gimli immediately started feeding the fire with bits of kindling he had in his pack.

We all sat around the fire, and never before in my life had I been so grateful for it. The pure, raw heat in that freezing place, high among the ice and rocks of the mountains was more glorious than... well, I don't know what but it was fantastic. The snow melted and puddled into slush around our feet.

"Here." That was Gandalf, "Pass this 'round. Just a mouthful each, mind you. It is miruvor, the cordial of Rivendell, and it is very precious."

He held a leather flask with bright silver and copper scrollwork around the top and bottom, he handed it to Aragorn, who took the smallest of sips. When it finally came to me, I took a mouthful. I felt a warmth spreading through me, from my throat, down to my frozen legs. I suddenly felt a renewed vigor and hope also, it seemed, burgeoning in my heart. The weariness that had been oppressing me lifted a little, and I smiled, and passed the flask to Pippin, sitting beside me.

Now I was slightly more awake, I looked around. Gandalf sat, looking pensive; Aragorn's stern countenance had little changed, as was his wont, though, I thought, it looked a little more relaxed. Sam was huddled next to Bill the pony, sharing the beast's warmth. Gimli was intent on the fire, his darkling eyes reflecting the flames. Legolas sat upright and aloof, but the hint of a smile hovered round his lips. Boromir was wrapped in his cloak, eyes glazed, seeming to see more than the rest of us could. Merry and Pippin sat next to each other, alternately gasping and grinning from the heat, and mercilessly joshing each other for it. Frodo sat by Sam. He seemed to have drawn into himself, his knees to his chest. And, as if I had only just noticed it, the Ring hung around his neck.

The band was thick, the gold brighter than even the fire, the cold metal reflecting the flames. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it.

Now- usually I didn't think jewelry was all that beautiful, when people in stores gasped over priceless gold and jewels, I would rather be outside, looking at the intricacies of the veins in a leaf, or the funny habits of a sparrow. Now, however, I took back anything adverse I had ever said regarding such things. This Ring was... gorgeous, entrancing, beautiful, I would have traded anything I owned for that Ring.

Now, somewhere in me, I knew this was a bad sign; this was the One Ring, Sauron's Ring, the Ruling Ring. I knew it was evil, if I took it, surely I would become a grasping wretch like Gollum, perhaps even worse- I might inflict real harm on the world, but still...

As I thought this, another thought countered. Yes, but I could get rid of that idiot, conservative excuse for a president. I could demolish all the big cities in the world, and the oil rigs; the forests and trees would flourish, I could fix the ozone layer, maybe. And, maybe... maybe I could make him like me- I could make him love me. I could make myself pretty. Think of what I could do. I could make all the republicans and communists see what they were doing, I could get rid of war.

I sat, staring at the Ring hanging on its chain around the Halflings neck. Only semi-conscious of what I was doing, I reached out a trembling hand, as if to seize it.

Suddenly I felt a tugging on my sleeve and I snapped out of my reverie. Pippin was looking at me with inquisitive eyes. I noticed that the firelight made the vivid green of his eyes look as if it was on fire.

"Wot ye doin'?"

"Eh..."

He waggled his eyebrows at me, as if to say "I gotcha."

"I was... warmin' me 'ands by th' fire. Wot'd ye think I was doin'?"

Pippin glanced meaningfully at Frodo, I was surprised. Clearly he was more intelligent than he made himself out to be.

He leaned close, hot breath wet in my ear

"Ye'll wan' te try not te no'ice tha'."

Of course. I blushed, what must he think of me now? My eyes suddenly stung with tears and my throat caught. I looked down, concentrating on the weave of my trousers to distract myself.

"Sorry." I mumbled. I must have sounded like a child apologizing to her parents, now I felt like an even bigger fool.

Pip grinned, he knew how I felt, I'm sure.

"Firs' time Ah saw't Ah did th' same thing."

I glanced at him, surprised. Pippin? Innocent Pippin? What, I wonder, had he thought to do with it.

"Th's no shame. 's nobody as c'n 'elp it."

And then, to my utter and lasting shock and delight, he leaned a little closer, and brushed my cheekbone with a kiss.

I gasped slightly, then stifled it, lest anybody else notice.

Pippin was looking at me in a surprised fashion, as if his body had acted without telling his mind. But when I smiled, warm now, and no longer with embarrassment, he grinned, his grass-green eyes shining at me.

A/N: reviews, pleeeez! I'm glad I finally got in Pip's and my moment, and my little bout of Ring-sickness, for lack of a better term. Eagle Took- be glad- next chapter you get to see if I prove my mettle against the hoardes of Moria. ::dum dum dum::