WARM THOUGHTS: Cold Heart
By: Bethlauria
**
It may be a while before the next chapter. I found a detailed map of Middle Earth only AFTER I wrote it. Let's just say my geography was a bit off. In the meantime, Enjoy! And thanks for the reviews. I really appreciate them. Hearing from people really gets me enthused, which means faster posting! Emerald-Eyed Elf deserves a special thank you. You're last review gave me the poke I needed to get back to the story.
**
"We can no longer doubt this is Pirscha's magic at work," Boromir said as he stared at the visage, his breath fogging the air before him.
As the man and dwarf stood gazing into the block of ice, a puddle on the slushy path rolled toward them, unnoticed. It slithered around their boots to pool beneath their feet.
Boromir moved the torch closer to the ice wall in hopes of gaining more detail of the two men trapped within, but the ice nearest the flame sputtered and spit at the heat. He frowned and pulled the torch back, reminded of his rude awakening a few hours before.
"They are beyond our help," he determined. "We should be on our way lest we fall prey to the same evil."
But as he moved away from the wall, his foot slipped on the ice patch now beneath it, and all his limbs flailed about as he tried and failed to find balance. As his feet slid out from under him, Gimli reached out to stop the fall, but Boromir's momentum was too great and undermined the dwarf's balance as well.
Boromir landed hard on the path, his shield catching on its edge to jar his shoulder as his elbow and ribs cracked against the hard ice.
Gimli would have joined him to sprawl across the pathway, except that he fell toward the man from Gondor and managed to use Boromir's head as an anchor. Even with this point of purchase, his feet slipped about for a moment until he was able to stand unmoving. When he was able to relax his grip on the man's face, he pulled back slightly to find his own balance. Noticing Boromir's scowl, he hastily pushed off the man to grope instead the nearest wall.
"No!" Boromir shouted, understanding too late the danger as he lunged himself at the dwarf. He tried to shove Gimli away from the wall, but between the obstacles of his sword and shield, he was unable to maneuver himself in time. He looked up to see the dwarf fall into the ice, its solidness giving way to the same formless substance that attacked him earlier. As Gimli sank into it, the clear, icy goo closed around him as if swallowing.
"Gimli!" Boromir shouted as he scrambled over on all fours to the wall, only to find it ice once more. "Gimli!" he raged as he pounded the now hard surface with his fists.
When force of will changed not, he remembered the torch lying behind him. He turned to find its flame struggling where it fell with him to the cold ground. He grabbed it, letting it flare to life again before striking it at the ice wall now displaying Gimli. The surface bubbled and screeched where the flame worked it. Rather than melt, however, it seemed to flow away from the heat, creating a valley in the wall's surface. As he pushed the torch deeper, the ice surrounding the torch suddenly turned to water and would have drenched the flame if not for Boromir's quick reflexes.
He jumped away from the wall and its dripping water, and in frustration, slapped the wall's surface with his palm. This time, however, he took note of its solid form. He skimmed his hand across its cool surface, pushing in at random to find no weakness.
An idea taking form, he clutched the torch tightly and threw his bulk against the wall with all his might. It toppled well, crashing into a wall beyond it with a mighty crack. Its weight in turn caused the second wall to fall, and on it went. The crashing sounds seemed to be that of the mountain falling in on itself, but when the motion stopped, and grave silence reigned, Boromir could see that he was no longer lost in a reflective maze. Instead, he could see clearly the expanse of the room, littered now with great chunks and piles of ice - the splintered remnants of the many ice walls.
Boromir turned back to the ice wall that held Gimli. It was now laying more or less on its side, so he struck the torch at it again. This time, gravity insured that the ice could play no changes in form to extinguish the flame. As the bubbling and screeching grew in volume, the ice suddenly gave up its treasure, losing all form to drench Gimli and fall in a great gush to the floor and ice beneath it.
Gimli lie shivering and blue, liked a beached fish on a shore. Boromir grabbed him up roughly, hauling him like a sack of potatoes over the shoulder not encumbered by shield. He then turned to scale the now ice- littered landscape toward the passageway at the far end of the room.
".I-I-I..can make.my.own way," Gimli chattered from his shoulder, but Boromir paid him no heed, brandishing the torch before him at what he surmised were disguised enemies at his feet.
He carried on this way for 20 minutes or more, scaling the landscape in all haste, but between the weight of the dwarf and the precarious mountains of ice, the going was slow and he was forced to rest often. Gimli kept muttering that he could make his own way, but it was clear that his arms and legs were still numb, and he seemed quite stunned mentally.
"Boromir!"
Frodo's shout echoed through the chamber, causing Boromir to startle and turn, almost losing his footing and the dwarf in the process.
Aragorn and Frodo stood just inside the stunted entryway he and Gimli had traveled through not an hour earlier. They were winded as their eyes took in their fellows, for they apparently sped to the rescue upon hearing the commotion caused by the crashing and splintering ice walls. The two were suddenly nudged forward when the rest of the hobbits barreled down the hallway into them.
"Stay back!" Boromir warned to them all, seeing that their surge forward put them dangerously close to the rubble. "The ice is an enemy bent on digesting us all!"
Pippin responded immediately to Boromir's barked order, groping backward as he considered the ice about him. He jumped in surprise when he bumped into Merry, but he relaxed when he turned to see nothing more threatening than his cousin. "Digesting," he repeated incredulously as he tried to comprehend the word as a warning.
Gandalf was almost forced down to hands and knees to make in through the small passageway, but he made it into the chamber in time to hear Boromir's warning.
While Aragorn and the hobbits frowned, first at Boromir and then the chunks of ice before them, Gandalf quickly understood the danger. He thrust out his staff and the crystal at its top began to glow fiercely and hot. He thrust it toward the nearest chunk of ice, causing the hobbits to gasp in awe when it scurried away. He thrust it toward another chunk, but this one lay dormant, apparently nothing more than frozen water.
Seeing that at least one member of the company understood the danger, Boromir shouted, "Are you able to fashion torches?"
"We have Gandalf's staff and I have but two logs remaining," Aragorn called back.
"It is worth expending the fuel. Use the logs now as both light and weapon. The ice would swallow you whole otherwise."
At the description, Merry and Pippin looked to each other until their stare was broken by Pippin's loud gulp, whereupon both hobbits immediately turned to help Aragorn.
Several minutes later found the company scaling the icy terrain with torches in hand, looking at their footholds wearily and brandishing the torches to strike if given any indication of evil.
Boromir carried on as well. He was breathless and tense when he finally found the smooth ground at the far end of the chamber where a carved archway marked the exit. He unceremoniously dropped the dwarf and turned back to mark the progress of their fellows, who were now mid-way through the room.
"How is it that you're not riding Caradhras' lower skirts?"
Aragorn looked up from his footing at Boromir's question. "Another storm came upon us," he replied. "Legolas is making Bills' way through it, but the climate was too harsh for the hob."
He was interrupted by the sound of rushing water and the ground literally giving up beneath his feet. Not all the icy crags were creatures in disguise, but enough of them melted instantaneously into watery form that man, hobbit, and wizard were left in heaps on the now dry ground.
Boromir saw the wall of water heading toward him, a great face sculpted in its wave. He grabbed Gimli and tossed him away from its force. The dwarf landed on a great breaker of ice to the side just as Boromir was struck headlong by the watery form and carried through the portal out of the chamber. He was pummeled with great force against the tunnel wall outside, effectively knocking him senseless. Then the water rushed onward and away, uphill against all laws of nature to flow along the corridor out of sight.
Frodo recovered first. With much of the icy landscape gone, he was able to run easily across the length of the room and out into the passageway, where he found Boromir crumpled on the tunnel floor.
"Boromir?" he shouted as he grabbed the man's tunic, but Boromir's head just nodded listlessly on his chest.
Pippin helped Gandalf to his feet, while Merry and Sam ventured into the passageway after Frodo. "Boromir?" Merry whispered when he saw the man's broken position.
The whispered plea seemed to rouse the man, who raised his hand slightly, clawing at the air as his head rolled against the wall toward the hobbit. Frodo sighed in relief and knelt next to the man, who was gulping great mouthfuls of air as he fought for breath. With Frodo's help he was able to sit upright.
"Gimli?" he whispered.
Aragorn had helped the dwarf down from the ledge upon which he'd been tossed and now walked with him through the archway.
"Here and accounted for," Gimli barked as they came out into the passageway, "but your manhandling will not be repeated."
"No," Boromir snorted. "Let's hope we encounter no more rogue waves in the future."
A roar echoed its way down the corridor at that moment, punctuating his remark. He looked up at the company, his eyes darting back and forth between his fellows, for the roar was nothing like he'd ever heard before from animal or beast. It was more like the roar of a waterfall.
"Fly you fools!" Gandalf directed, pointing the company down the hallway away from the sound.
Boromir was helped to his feet by the hobbits and then all were underway, running wildly along the path bordering the deceptively mild spring.
A moan of sheer rage seemed to be right at their very heels, pushing them ever onward. A light was clear at the end of their tunnel, and they burst forth out into sunshine, midway down Caradhras. Aragorn pushed Boromir and Frodo to one side of the great breach, diving for cover with the rest of the hobbits to the other. A geyser of water followed them straight out of the cave like a shot from a cannon. It roared for several seconds and then all was quiet as its force was spent. After a moment more, the fellows watched in awe as drops of run off rolled their way back up the mountain to collect together at the base of the cave and run in rivulets back into Caradhras' recesses.
End of Part 4
**
It may be a while before the next chapter. I found a detailed map of Middle Earth only AFTER I wrote it. Let's just say my geography was a bit off. In the meantime, Enjoy! And thanks for the reviews. I really appreciate them. Hearing from people really gets me enthused, which means faster posting! Emerald-Eyed Elf deserves a special thank you. You're last review gave me the poke I needed to get back to the story.
**
"We can no longer doubt this is Pirscha's magic at work," Boromir said as he stared at the visage, his breath fogging the air before him.
As the man and dwarf stood gazing into the block of ice, a puddle on the slushy path rolled toward them, unnoticed. It slithered around their boots to pool beneath their feet.
Boromir moved the torch closer to the ice wall in hopes of gaining more detail of the two men trapped within, but the ice nearest the flame sputtered and spit at the heat. He frowned and pulled the torch back, reminded of his rude awakening a few hours before.
"They are beyond our help," he determined. "We should be on our way lest we fall prey to the same evil."
But as he moved away from the wall, his foot slipped on the ice patch now beneath it, and all his limbs flailed about as he tried and failed to find balance. As his feet slid out from under him, Gimli reached out to stop the fall, but Boromir's momentum was too great and undermined the dwarf's balance as well.
Boromir landed hard on the path, his shield catching on its edge to jar his shoulder as his elbow and ribs cracked against the hard ice.
Gimli would have joined him to sprawl across the pathway, except that he fell toward the man from Gondor and managed to use Boromir's head as an anchor. Even with this point of purchase, his feet slipped about for a moment until he was able to stand unmoving. When he was able to relax his grip on the man's face, he pulled back slightly to find his own balance. Noticing Boromir's scowl, he hastily pushed off the man to grope instead the nearest wall.
"No!" Boromir shouted, understanding too late the danger as he lunged himself at the dwarf. He tried to shove Gimli away from the wall, but between the obstacles of his sword and shield, he was unable to maneuver himself in time. He looked up to see the dwarf fall into the ice, its solidness giving way to the same formless substance that attacked him earlier. As Gimli sank into it, the clear, icy goo closed around him as if swallowing.
"Gimli!" Boromir shouted as he scrambled over on all fours to the wall, only to find it ice once more. "Gimli!" he raged as he pounded the now hard surface with his fists.
When force of will changed not, he remembered the torch lying behind him. He turned to find its flame struggling where it fell with him to the cold ground. He grabbed it, letting it flare to life again before striking it at the ice wall now displaying Gimli. The surface bubbled and screeched where the flame worked it. Rather than melt, however, it seemed to flow away from the heat, creating a valley in the wall's surface. As he pushed the torch deeper, the ice surrounding the torch suddenly turned to water and would have drenched the flame if not for Boromir's quick reflexes.
He jumped away from the wall and its dripping water, and in frustration, slapped the wall's surface with his palm. This time, however, he took note of its solid form. He skimmed his hand across its cool surface, pushing in at random to find no weakness.
An idea taking form, he clutched the torch tightly and threw his bulk against the wall with all his might. It toppled well, crashing into a wall beyond it with a mighty crack. Its weight in turn caused the second wall to fall, and on it went. The crashing sounds seemed to be that of the mountain falling in on itself, but when the motion stopped, and grave silence reigned, Boromir could see that he was no longer lost in a reflective maze. Instead, he could see clearly the expanse of the room, littered now with great chunks and piles of ice - the splintered remnants of the many ice walls.
Boromir turned back to the ice wall that held Gimli. It was now laying more or less on its side, so he struck the torch at it again. This time, gravity insured that the ice could play no changes in form to extinguish the flame. As the bubbling and screeching grew in volume, the ice suddenly gave up its treasure, losing all form to drench Gimli and fall in a great gush to the floor and ice beneath it.
Gimli lie shivering and blue, liked a beached fish on a shore. Boromir grabbed him up roughly, hauling him like a sack of potatoes over the shoulder not encumbered by shield. He then turned to scale the now ice- littered landscape toward the passageway at the far end of the room.
".I-I-I..can make.my.own way," Gimli chattered from his shoulder, but Boromir paid him no heed, brandishing the torch before him at what he surmised were disguised enemies at his feet.
He carried on this way for 20 minutes or more, scaling the landscape in all haste, but between the weight of the dwarf and the precarious mountains of ice, the going was slow and he was forced to rest often. Gimli kept muttering that he could make his own way, but it was clear that his arms and legs were still numb, and he seemed quite stunned mentally.
"Boromir!"
Frodo's shout echoed through the chamber, causing Boromir to startle and turn, almost losing his footing and the dwarf in the process.
Aragorn and Frodo stood just inside the stunted entryway he and Gimli had traveled through not an hour earlier. They were winded as their eyes took in their fellows, for they apparently sped to the rescue upon hearing the commotion caused by the crashing and splintering ice walls. The two were suddenly nudged forward when the rest of the hobbits barreled down the hallway into them.
"Stay back!" Boromir warned to them all, seeing that their surge forward put them dangerously close to the rubble. "The ice is an enemy bent on digesting us all!"
Pippin responded immediately to Boromir's barked order, groping backward as he considered the ice about him. He jumped in surprise when he bumped into Merry, but he relaxed when he turned to see nothing more threatening than his cousin. "Digesting," he repeated incredulously as he tried to comprehend the word as a warning.
Gandalf was almost forced down to hands and knees to make in through the small passageway, but he made it into the chamber in time to hear Boromir's warning.
While Aragorn and the hobbits frowned, first at Boromir and then the chunks of ice before them, Gandalf quickly understood the danger. He thrust out his staff and the crystal at its top began to glow fiercely and hot. He thrust it toward the nearest chunk of ice, causing the hobbits to gasp in awe when it scurried away. He thrust it toward another chunk, but this one lay dormant, apparently nothing more than frozen water.
Seeing that at least one member of the company understood the danger, Boromir shouted, "Are you able to fashion torches?"
"We have Gandalf's staff and I have but two logs remaining," Aragorn called back.
"It is worth expending the fuel. Use the logs now as both light and weapon. The ice would swallow you whole otherwise."
At the description, Merry and Pippin looked to each other until their stare was broken by Pippin's loud gulp, whereupon both hobbits immediately turned to help Aragorn.
Several minutes later found the company scaling the icy terrain with torches in hand, looking at their footholds wearily and brandishing the torches to strike if given any indication of evil.
Boromir carried on as well. He was breathless and tense when he finally found the smooth ground at the far end of the chamber where a carved archway marked the exit. He unceremoniously dropped the dwarf and turned back to mark the progress of their fellows, who were now mid-way through the room.
"How is it that you're not riding Caradhras' lower skirts?"
Aragorn looked up from his footing at Boromir's question. "Another storm came upon us," he replied. "Legolas is making Bills' way through it, but the climate was too harsh for the hob."
He was interrupted by the sound of rushing water and the ground literally giving up beneath his feet. Not all the icy crags were creatures in disguise, but enough of them melted instantaneously into watery form that man, hobbit, and wizard were left in heaps on the now dry ground.
Boromir saw the wall of water heading toward him, a great face sculpted in its wave. He grabbed Gimli and tossed him away from its force. The dwarf landed on a great breaker of ice to the side just as Boromir was struck headlong by the watery form and carried through the portal out of the chamber. He was pummeled with great force against the tunnel wall outside, effectively knocking him senseless. Then the water rushed onward and away, uphill against all laws of nature to flow along the corridor out of sight.
Frodo recovered first. With much of the icy landscape gone, he was able to run easily across the length of the room and out into the passageway, where he found Boromir crumpled on the tunnel floor.
"Boromir?" he shouted as he grabbed the man's tunic, but Boromir's head just nodded listlessly on his chest.
Pippin helped Gandalf to his feet, while Merry and Sam ventured into the passageway after Frodo. "Boromir?" Merry whispered when he saw the man's broken position.
The whispered plea seemed to rouse the man, who raised his hand slightly, clawing at the air as his head rolled against the wall toward the hobbit. Frodo sighed in relief and knelt next to the man, who was gulping great mouthfuls of air as he fought for breath. With Frodo's help he was able to sit upright.
"Gimli?" he whispered.
Aragorn had helped the dwarf down from the ledge upon which he'd been tossed and now walked with him through the archway.
"Here and accounted for," Gimli barked as they came out into the passageway, "but your manhandling will not be repeated."
"No," Boromir snorted. "Let's hope we encounter no more rogue waves in the future."
A roar echoed its way down the corridor at that moment, punctuating his remark. He looked up at the company, his eyes darting back and forth between his fellows, for the roar was nothing like he'd ever heard before from animal or beast. It was more like the roar of a waterfall.
"Fly you fools!" Gandalf directed, pointing the company down the hallway away from the sound.
Boromir was helped to his feet by the hobbits and then all were underway, running wildly along the path bordering the deceptively mild spring.
A moan of sheer rage seemed to be right at their very heels, pushing them ever onward. A light was clear at the end of their tunnel, and they burst forth out into sunshine, midway down Caradhras. Aragorn pushed Boromir and Frodo to one side of the great breach, diving for cover with the rest of the hobbits to the other. A geyser of water followed them straight out of the cave like a shot from a cannon. It roared for several seconds and then all was quiet as its force was spent. After a moment more, the fellows watched in awe as drops of run off rolled their way back up the mountain to collect together at the base of the cave and run in rivulets back into Caradhras' recesses.
End of Part 4
