'…It's true, the way I feel,

What's promised by your face.

The sound of your voice,

Painted on my memories,

Even if you're not with me, I'm with you…'

With you Linkin Park

Chapter Four - Decisions

'They're taking the long way round again. The Dwarf would have a field day.'

Yunalesca crouched behind a small boulder that for its part shielded her and her unmistakably dark cloak that contrasted beautifully with the thick blanket of snow that covered the mountain. It was tedious, no doubt, watching the Fellowship's steady but plainly slow course through the pass. She almost felt sorry for the single elf in the party, who walked effortlessly around the struggling members of the group.

'He must be bored to death.' She mused, 'I'm surprised he hasn't felt the need to throw himself off the nearest cliff.'

The two men and the wizard were snowflake-covered beacons on the mountainside, labouring through the waist-high snow. The gleaming helmet and the four muffs of curly hair were the only indication of where the more vertically challenged members of the company stood. Despite the Hobbit's determination, they kept stumbling on drifts and places where the snow had grown treacherously deep. She watched their painfully slow progress for a minute or two, and then moved on. It was true, the path she had taken was a more dangerous one and was certainly more difficult, but it was also a lot quicker.

She held her cloak tighter around her frame, wondering why she was bothering to do so if she was not cold to start with.

The blizzard was growing fiercer by the minute. Snow whipped around the small ledges that acted as paths through the blanket that had settled on the cliff-face. Again, Yunalesca mused about why it was she had agreed to do this. It also gave her a chance to realise that she was in dire need of a holiday.

'On the upside, at least I'm getting a good workout.' She thought as she shimmied inch by inch along the almost vertical precipice. 'Yeah right. Like I'm not considering throwing myself off so I can be done with this over-exaggerated hill.'

Her fingers dug into the tiny outcrops of rock as she balanced her aching feet on the even smaller ledges below.

'Stupid Fellowship.'

She cursed the fact that they had found the only decent path around the abominable mountaintop, leaving her to edge slowly around a god-forsaken area underneath. She could hear the voice of the white wizard echoing about the mountains, commanding the very elements.

It was ironic, one of the few people she knew quite well was now one of their biggest threats. He often walked through the enchanted woods in more peaceful times, and he was one of the only people whom she would ever had admitted holding a somewhat peculiar friendship with. But that was a long time ago. His visits had been abruptly cut short. And it was only after a month or so that she finally found out why. She ignored these thoughts for the time being and concentrated to hear what the Fellowship were saying. Straining her ears, she gripped the wall and listened to the scraps of conversation she could hear above the noise of the snowstorm.

"…fell...oice…e…air…"

"It's Saruman!" She heard Gandalf bellow as the icy outcrops above gave way to a horde of boulders that crashed down on the ledge below. She pressed herself to the rock face, clinging with all her remaining strength as a particularly large rock grazed her cloak. She didn't need to be reminded of the ample drop below, so why she instinctively looked down was beyond her comprehension. She almost went week at the knees, but forced herself to concentrate on the voices above.

"...dalf…must...back…"

'NO! Shut up you stupid ranger, I didn't come all this way just to turn around again because the almost-king of Gondor can't handle a bit of snow!'

"No!" With that, she heard a deeper voice join the chanting of the voice in Isengard. The battle of voices aged for a few more seconds, but it was clear who the victor was when a bolt of lightning struck the remaining bulk of the mountain, dislodging a vast clump of snow and sending it cascading down the mountain in an avalanche that threatened to sweep the Fellowship off the mountainside. Apart from the constant whistle of the wind, all was silent in the wake of the episode. She was silently proud that she hadn't fallen off the mountain. Even from where she was she could tell that the overhead ledge had been buried under ice. She shook her head in order to dislodge the large amount of snow that had taken up residence on her rather large bun of hair.

All was silent. She feared to breathe lest someone heard her. Finally, she heard the Fellowship slowly emerging from the snow, and what she assumed to be a small search for the Hobbits took place as a voice yelled:

"Gandalf! We must turn back! Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!"

'Boromir.'

"th…Gap..f…Rohan takes…s…t…Isengrd!" She assumed that to be an objection, and for once, trusted the Ranger's opinion. She heard little of the next sentence, but the words that dug into her skull and sent a chill down her rigid spine were "The Mines of Moria."

'Dear god, whatever I said about the Gap of Rohan or the mountain I take it back. Anything but the mines. Not the mines, if I have to pass through those damn stinking dwarf-holes again I think I might actually kill myself.' There was a long pause, before Gandalf finally spoke.

"Let..ing-bearer d…ide..." 'Come on, Frodo, you don't want to go through the mines. Be a good little Hobbit, the Gap of Rohan isn't so bad, really…' She cursed out loud when, finally, his decision was made, but luckily, the snowstorm made it inaudible.

It was reaching sundown. The crimson dusk set in for another evening of almost non-stop travelling. They had hardly rested once the mountain had defeated them, it had been almost a week ago that the fatal decision was made. Not only did they need to make up for lost time, they wanted to avoid at all costs the creatures that dwelled around these areas. Yuna wasn't complaining, the faster they got in and out of the mines, the better.

She remembered her last unfortunate journey through the catacombs. Caradhras was far too perilous to cross on that particular occasion, and she had been forced through the mines. The reception she had received in Moria had been altogether unpleasant, the dwarves did not look kindly on strange visitors passing through their mines. It had been her first and her last visit, it was not an experience worth reliving, though unfortunately she now found she would have to.

It was a few hours later, after night was fully established that strange howls started to emerge from the surrounding area. She knew all too well what kind of beast they originated from. The Fellowship simply tried to ignore them as they hurried onwards. But after another half-hour of walking, it was obvious that their presence had been noticed, and they now had a number of unwanted creatures following them. It became apparent that some kind of confrontation was inevitable.

She heard their voices, quiet and wary of the situation. Aragorn suggested they find a place to camp, if only to be prepared when they had to face the currently unseen enemy. It wasn't the greatest of ideas, but it was decent considering the Hobbits were in desperate need of some sort of break. Even if it was just to rest their feet.

Ultimately, the unavoidable battle commenced…

The party anxiously looked around them, swords drawn ready for the ensuing conflict. Yuna had found a small spot just overlooking the camp. She perched on the thick bough that the ancient elm created and silently readied her crossbow. It was an ingenious invention, which, she thought, never had enough developing. Her own model was quite small, but powerful nonetheless. She wore a small gauntlet, which also served as a makeshift shield on her left arm, sporting a number of small grooves that ran quite deeply through the metal. Taking her time, she reached inside the small pack that was concealed under her cloak and brought forth a small wooden object, sliding it carefully into place on her gauntlet until it was held securely. Yuna felt for the tiny lever towards the rear of the object and moved it slightly upwards. This resulted in the contraption flipping open and setting itself up with a slight click. A small and beaten crossbow stood on the gauntlet, not looking as if it could fire, let alone cause any severe damage. A leather bag of crossbow bolts also came out of the bundle before it returned behind her back. By the time this process was completed and she was fully ready, the wolf-like creatures were already attacking. Her murky eyes scanned the battle for any chance to take down one of the creatures. She had no intense desire to interject, but if it came down to it, she knew she would have to. With that, she just prayed the Fellowship could handle a minor battle like this well enough.

A few silent bolts glided silently past the surrounding foliage and found their mark, embedding themselves in the creature's necks. They weren't much of a challenge, and they weren't very bright. They simply hurled themselves at the nearest target, jaws wide open to reveal row upon row of glistening teeth. Usually one or two shots was enough to take one down, if it was well-aimed. The Fellowship seemed to be holding their own quite well, she decided, but wondered if it would last. If they had much trouble here, she told herself, there would be no point in continuing. The quest would have already failed.

Frodo looked around the battle, fearful. Sting was drawn, and now and then slashed away at any wolf creature that could make its way past the barrier of Hobbits. Merry, Pippin and Samwise were huddled close to Frodo, daring anything to try and harm the Ring-Bearer. The young Baggins slowly put his hand to the thin golden chain around his neck. It was still there, just like the last time he'd checked. Wondering why he was so cautious of its whereabouts, he focused back on the battle. The attacks seemed to have stopped for now, but he could still feel their presence nearby. A second wave was due soon, he clutched Sting tightly and waited.

Pippin, for his part, was feeling on top of the world. This was his first real battle, and he seemed to have a perpetual adrenaline rush. He didn't count the unfortunate encounter with the Ringwraiths a battle, seeing as he didn't have a chance of winning in the first place. But this time was different. There were other people who actually knew what they were doing, and he was awe-struck to see the way they easily fell creature after creature without pause.

The area around them was silent. The air was thick with the stench of dried blood and the many carcasses of deceased wolves littered the earth. A torch in the centre of the party provided an area of light that only the bravest or more likely stupidest of the creatures was prepared to enter. But even he could feel them, gathered just around the rim, a second wave ever ready to attack.

He heard a tiny noise, almost inaudible, to his left. He turned slowly to see a pair of bloodthirsty jaws, dripping with saliva, about to enclose upon his head. His mind went blank, he couldn't move.

So this was it. He'd always imagined that his death would involve more alcohol.

His mind was thrown back into reality as the wolf's throat was thrust from his vision. It was about to tear his head off, but stopped mid-lunge in was thrown to the ground by an unknown force, and now it lay lifeless on the floor. He turned to Legolas, expecting to see him standing there, bow drawn. But he, and the rest of the Fellowship, were more concerned with the second wave of attacks. The bow was nowhere to be seen.

He knelt by the creature and saw the short wooden shaft protruding from its neck, with some effort, he eased it out, and examined it further. Or, at least, he tried to, no further detail could be seen, and for the while, he decided to put it in his pocket for safekeeping and have another look in the morning. If it ever came.

…And it did. The battle had been won, as it should have been, seeing as their foes were hardly worthy opponents of the skill that the group supposedly held. Pippin was ambling along in a state of blissful unawareness of anything but how heavy with sleep his eyelids were. The Fellowship were on the move again, leaving behind the blood-soaked earth and the pile of corpses to rot in the sunlight. It was about six in the morning, for the young Hobbits reckoning. Precisely the time that a pre-breakfast snack would have really hit the spot. Thoughts of grilled mushrooms and fresh rashers of bacon entered his mind. They seemed to be calling to him, singing even. His eyes opened. The last part of his otherwise pleasant vision was just too strange to continue. Plus, some unidentifiable object seemed to be irritating his side, poking an already tender spot. He dreaded the thought of lifting his arms to see what the object of his annoyance was, that would mean he'd have to move his arms as well as his legs. Pushing the desperate cries of objection from his mind, he reached into his pocket and retrieved the object. It was wooden, about a foot in length, though possibly a little shorter. It looked to be a sort of miniature arrow, having a sharp metal point at one end and a tiny amount of feathering at the other.

"What's that, Pip?" Said the ever-chirpy voice of his cousin. "What've you got there? Let's have a look!" Without waiting for an answer, he snatched the object from Pippin's feeble grasp and ogled it with as much intensity as can be expected from a Hobbit at such an early hour. "It looks like a stick if you ask me! And a funny one at that. Hey, what's all this feathery stuff coming out of the end? And look at this sharp bit at the front! You could poke yourself on that and really get hurt…ow!"

"Give me that!" Pippin said, once he had regained some of his equilibrium that was usually reserved for more sunlit hours. "That's a souvenir, that is! Got that out of a dead wolfy thing that almost took me head off!"

Aragorn's ears perked up upon hearing this small conversation, and he picked his pace up slightly in order to get closer to where they were walking. Curiosity took the better of him as he looked at the prized object that Pippin was now trying to retrieve from Merry's grip.

"Could I see that for a moment, Merry?" The ranger asked.

"Sure, here you go!" Merry handed it to him, much to the anger of his cousin.

"It's not yours to give away, you little thief!" Unsure of what to do next, Aragorn watched as the accusation turned into a fully blown argument. They had soon forgotten about him, so he decided simply to stay out of their way.

"Legolas," The Elf immediately looked up to his companion. "Come have a look at this." He slowed his pace to match the Ranger's. "One of yours?" He asked, handing him the small shaft of wood. Legolas shook his head, perplexed.

"No, I've never seen it before. It almost looks to be…a crossbow bolt." He looked up, even more confused. "But unless I am mistaken, none in the Fellowship carry that sort of weapon."

"No, they don't." He replied slowly. "Pippin." He called to the quarrelling Hobbit who gave an evil look to Merry before going over to Aragorn. "Where did you find this?" Pippin shrugged.

"It was last night. In one of those Cerebain thingies. It was about to rip my hread right off, but it just fell over and I found this thing sticking out it's head. It was all bloody and gooey and–"

"Thank you, Pippin." He cut him off before he could further delight them with tales of grey matter.

"Then...maybe you were right." Said the Elven prince. "Perhaps something is following us." It was at that moment that he heard it. It was just the slightest whisper, he wasn't even sure if it was there at all. But he thought he heard a faint curse some distance back.

"What is it?"

"I…thought I heard something. Back there–

–in the bushes."

"Shit!" Yuna swore again, unable to prevent herself.

'You fucking idiot! Now they don't just know someone's following them, but they also know that you're right bloody there!' She scanned her surroundings, there was no easy way of moving from her spot if she wanted to remain unseen. Another silent profanity escaped her lips as she saw the Elven archer break away from the Fellowship and move over in her direction.

Aragorn nodded to Legolas, who turned and ran slowly up the subtle hill that led to a small patch of woodland. His gaze rested on a sole bush in particular. He watched it carefully, not even blinking. It moved. It was just a fraction of a centimetre, and to even the most finely tuned human eyesight, would have been invisible, but it was there. In a fraction of a second, his bow was drawn and held taught as he aimed it directly at the bush. He couldn't take a hand of his bow to move the foliage aside, so he opted for his foot instead. It would mean taking his eyes off the spot for just over a second, but there was little else he could do. With the agility of a cat, he shoved the bush over and pointed the tip of his arrow at…nothing. He examined the surrounding area. Nothing was there. Just as the many times before. The only sounds were of the wind gently whistling through the trees and various wildlife going about their morning routines. Everything was normal.

She had made it out of there, barely. If the circumstances had been different and the Elf hadn't needed to swerve round, that would have been it for her. Thankfully a split second was all she had took to make her get away. She moved as swiftly as she could and by the time his bow was pointed, all there was to greet it was air. Waiting for a good while, she had regained the pursuit. The Fellowship were far more alert from now on; both the encounter with the Cerebain and Yuna's near miss had made Aragorn and Gandalf decide that they needed to employ more caution concerning the company's journey. Although she in turn had to take more care in not being detected, Yuna actually didn't mind. It meant that the group moved with twice the speed instead of their usual snails pace. So now it was about a week and a half later. They were now nearing the rock face that held the supposedly great gates of Moria. A chill went down her spine as she recognised the murky lake and the overgrown slab of rock that towered menacingly above them. The nauseating memories of her 'stay' in the Mines came flooding back all too clearly, and Gimli's remarks about red meet ripe off the bone did little to settle her stomach. The young Hobbits gazed, awe-struck at the monumental rock face as Gimli began to explain the various wonders of Moria in a slightly over confident tour-guide-esque tone.

"Yes, Gimli, their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten."

'Why doesn't that surprise me?' She thought, then glared viciously at the back of the elf's head as he said the same thing out loud. 'Stupid blonde.'

Yuna crept forward as the grey wizard muttered to himself. The moon unveiled itself from behind the clouds and shone onto the great doors of Moria. A gold light seemed to swim between the contours of the wall and the vast carvings on the doors were now visible.

'Okay, brilliant, we're here, now just say Mellon and we can get through that crumbling hole in the earth as soon as possible' She thought, crouching halfway down a small rocky ledge on the cliff side.

The words never escaped his mouth.

The fellowship looked on expectantly as a bundle of Elvish and Dwarvish spells alike escaped his lips, but not once did the word 'mellon.'

The onlooker sank down into a more comfortable position and sighed. 'This could take a while.'