It was hard to feel anything but fear when it laid so heavy upon everyone's shoulders. With their journey on the edge of discovery, they hadn't moved from their shelter until nightfall. The Crebian were relentless in their search, the departure of daylight still didn't deter them. They circled several times trying to gather as much information for their master as their tiny eyes could. The company stood solemn and quiet along the tree line, trying to hide as much as they could.

The devilish fiends left them cold and miserable by the time they relinquished their hold upon the fellowship. Exhausted but knowing Saruman wouldn't rest easily, they continued their march further up the mountain, looking for better coverage to rest their weary heads.

The night grew darker with deadly clouds. The sharp wind blew aggressively around boulders, the heavy stones blocking any visible path from their stinging eyes. Nim noticed the hobbits faltering steps under the weight of the tiny wood faggots upon their packs. She tried to keep her steps close to the little ones to block the worst of the weather; her cheeks soon raw from the exposure. Gandalf kept dragging them further along the dangerous path that only lead to sheer cliff walls to the left and a gaping ravine on their right.

Nim dug her heels into the moist earth. The trail continued to climb higher towards the mountainous peaks but the heavy rain loosened the soil beneath their feet; slowing them down. Her boots didn't grip the dirt well enough, as she had managed to slip several times already. Her once slightly soiled tunic was completely ruined and she was starting to grow cold.

Tiny footfalls beside her started to slide, her arm shoot out, grabbing the back of Frodo's hood stopping him from face planting amongst the mud. His precious wind burned face looked sheepishly in her direction, his mouth muttering a quiet thank you.

"Frodo, why don't you climb on my back? We have only a small distance to go and I can carry you."

The hobbit in question smoothed his ruffled clothing and shook his head politely, "I couldn't do that Nim, I can walk the rest of the way."

Nim turned around and stared at the three other hobbits who had already taken refuge on someone else's back. Sam clung to Aragorns' back, his arm tight around the mans neck while his other hand gripped Bill's bridle. Merry and Pippin seemed to enjoy the protection that Boromir and Legolas were providing them. Both had taken to throwing tree cones at one another to keep themselves occupied. That game was shortly lived when Legolas kept dodging and Merry and Boromir had to endure the sharp pain of loss as Pippin kept hitting them.

"You do realize you are the stubborn one, right?" Nim pressed Frodo forward with her hand gently upon his back. " I have no packs to carry. Helping you would certainly help me out."

Frodos' eyebrows rose in question as he didn't quite know how he could be helping her out. " I don't want anyone to think I can't carry my load. Gimli was quite gallant this morning when he refused to let me carry my own bag but now I just feel like I'm letting them down. We'd both benefit if you'd only let me help you."

The hobbit halted in his steps, his blue eyes staring into her calm brown orbs. She watched as his mind seemed to circle around the possibility of resting his sore legs. He smiled and nodded his head, realizing that Nim had easily turned the conversation around to make it seem like he would be helping her out rather than the other way around.

Nim crouched down and waited as Frodo clambered upon her back, his short legs wrapping around her waist with a strength she didn't think the poor hobbit had left. With his hands gripping her jacket tightly, she slowly stood up and continued her trek behind the grey wizard.

"Frodo, tell me about the Shire. Gandalf says it's beautiful."

"It is beautiful. It's so green," his voice grew quieter as he seemed to be losing himself in distant memories, "We're a quiet folk. We enjoy the little things like gardening and food. I never believed I'd go anywhere outside the Shire."

"What do you miss the most?"

"I miss Bilbo. He grows older and I fear I may not see him again."

Nim's heart grew tight with sorrow for the poor hobbit. She did not understand what it was like to have a home or people to miss. Feeling Frodo's despair, Nim placed her hand gently over his small fist. She felt the tension slowly leave his body, his fingers grasping hers in comfort.

Laboriously they continued their trek but the land soon leveled out and snow began to fall. If their journey wasn't miserable enough as it was before, it was worse now. Such weather shouldn't have been able to reach them at their current location, they were far too low in the mountain passes.

Soon the men were even having difficulties climbing their way through the snow. The weight of the hobbits and the quickly falling snow were quickly doubling over the strongest members of their group. Gandalf could not put it off any longer, they had to stop for the night.

Nim wasn't sure they could call the overhang of the mountain an actual shelter. It stood back about twenty feet from the plundering ravine but it left little room for their company to relax. The bitter wind blew fiercely among the companions, their bodies huddled deep within their cloaks.

Nim nibbled slowly on the chunk of jerky Aragorn had passed her. Her right shoulder slowly growing numb under the weight of Frodos' head as he slept. Bill, the pony, stood protectively in front of the hobbits to block the worst of the weather, but it left the rest of them bare to the elements. She found herself concentrating on the steady breaths of Frodo while she watched the snow pile higher. She could no longer feel her hands as her body grew colder by the second.

All of them had failed miserably to light a fire through the swirling drifts. Nim was pretty positive had she had complete control over her power, she still wouldn't have been able to keep the flame from disappearing within the snow storm.

Her eyelids grew heavy with fatigue, her body finally giving itself over to the exhaustion it had been fighting since their climb began. She pictured herself huddled amongst the warm blankets of her Rivendell bed. Her dreams light and littered with visions of her favorite elf.

A gentle hand upon her shoulder woke her from her sleep. The beautiful man from her dreams stood above her, his eyes worried, his hand clenching a small flask. He slowly crouched down, blocking the gusty wind from stinging her already raw face. Uncorking the flask, he pressed it gently in her hand, "Drink this. It will help."

"What is it?"

"It's called Miruvor. It'll warm you." Her fingers felt like stone as she curled them around the small flask. The liquid flowed easily down her throat but had no taste. It's silvery tail wound it's way through her veins, warming her body slowly. Feeling eyes still upon her, she peeked through her hair and met his blue eyes. Corking the flask once more, she handed it back to the elf.

"Have you had any?"

"No, I don't need it." Gently taking the empty flask from her hand, he slowly sat down on the ground next to her. Nims body, like a plant to sunlight, yearned for the heat he was giving off next to her. Coughing slightly to distract from her blatantly inappropriate thoughts, Nim tried to scoot herself and Frodo over to allow more room for the elf. "Do not move. I have plenty of space."

She honestly had been paying more attention to the task of moving the hobbit without waking him that she didn't hear Legolas move until his hands rested gently on her shoulders. Freezing, Nim turned her head to peer at the man, "Frodo and I can move over. It's really no problem."

Honestly, no matter how much she enjoyed the feel of his body so close to hers, she still felt incredibly nervous around him. She had no experience with the feelings she had been dealing with. She had no idea what he was thinking half the time. He certainly didn't qualify for the type of relationship she had with Aragorn. And he definitely elected serious tremors in her stomach whenever he was near. Something no one else in the fellowship could do. So what was he to her? She could assume that she liked him more on a romantic side but to what extent did he like her? Was she just a good friend he could get close to like Aragorn? Did he treat her differently than them because she was a female? Or did he maybe, hopefully more than maybe, have feelings for her too? Could an immortal being with thousands of years of experience on his side, be feeling an emotional attachment to someone like her? What would he do if she touched him back so freely? Would he feel disgusted or delighted? Blushing quite heavily now, Nim could only imagine what it would feel like to kiss him. Oh, how bad she wanted to feel those lips upon hers.

"Nim, you need sleep," slowly inching his way towards the stone wall, he rested his back upon the frozen stone. When she put up no struggle, he gently pulled on her shoulders, resting her upper body against his chest, "Rest on me while I keep watch."

The path up Caradhras was too treacherous to take by nightfall anymore. With the guidance of Gandalf and the loss of the Crebain, they began their long journey during the day. Their trudge through the snow became slower and more difficult as the snow got thicker higher up the mountain. The only drop of hope appearing along the ridge as each day dawned brighter than the one before.

Nimirher clambered on in silence; her feet heavy with fatigue. Last night was the first time, she had had a nightmare since leaving Rivendell. She had awakened to Legloas gripping her arms, holding her down as she thrashed against his side. His elvish whispers did very little to soothe her when all she could see was the fear in the hobbits eyes and the hate in Boromirs.

Her feet slipped cautiously through the snow, touching the frozen rocks below. She could feel their eyes on her. Legolas took the lead that day but it hadn't stopped him from peering back at her every moment he got. She couldn't really tell how he might be feeling because his face always remained the same; impeccably smooth and beautiful.

Aragorn slipped quietly around her. His attention more on Frodo but she could feel his hesitation whenever she ventured too far ahead of him. She knew he worried for her greatly but she couldn't let him lose focus on what truly mattered; the fragile hobbit stumbling about in the snow.

She was beginning to really worry about Boromir. She knew he feared her more than he hated her. He felt completely lost on how to be around her so he chose to avoid her but his attentions were being completely drawn to Frodo. She watched him as he pretended to watch the other Halflings; his eyes straining in Frodo's direction every few minutes. If she wasn't so powerless against its charms either, she'd say that he was too focused on his protector duty, but that was so far from the truth, even she couldn't deny it anymore. The ring was pulling him in, farther than anyone else in their company, and it scared her. Frodo's safety was in jeopardy and Boromir's sanity was balancing on a very thin ledge. Nim tried to keep her presence around the ring limited but he seemed to want to bathe in it's dark glory.

She wasn't expecting Frodo to drop the ring when he stumbled but there it sat, gleaming in the afternoon sun amongst the freshly fallen snow. She watched Boromir inch forward, his hand engulfing the beast. Her feet began to move on their own accord, already knowing the violence that would occur if he wouldn't give it back; a hand around her arm stopped her. "Don't"

She need not look because she knew who held her arm. She'd spent an entire evening nestled against his chest while she slept. She could tell anyone how it felt when he drew breath. How he smelt like a forest after a heavy rain. How he gripped her arm and rubbed his thumb along her skin to soothe her frayed nerves.

She let her body relax in his grip but she never let her eyes stray from Frodo. He was too far away for her to run to him if trouble erupted. She could see Aragorn behind him, hand on the hilt of his sword. Turning abruptly, she brought fearful eyes to her captor, "What's happening? I know you can hear them."

His eyes pierced her own, knowledge swirling within. "He's lost in his own thoughts."

Realizing he wasn't going to tell her the whole truth, Nim yanked her arm out of his grip and started towards Boromir.

"What are you doing?!" Legolas hissed as he grabbed her arm again, pulling her back to him.

"I'm going to make sure it's handled since you won't let me know what's really going on." She tried pulling her arm out of his grasp again but he held firm. He wasn't hurting her but his gaze was more serious then she had ever seen it before.

Taking a deep breath, Nim hadn't even realized he had been holding, he slowly released her, "You are too reckless."

Turning away from her, Legolas continued his journey to the front of the group. She watched his back grow smaller as her heart beat just a little harder; hurting. From behind she could hear the rest of the group's foot steps continue. Frodo clearly in possession of the ring once again without incident.

Taking a shuddering breath, she picked her feet up to start marching once again. Her mind completely lost as to how she managed to make Legolas angry with her.

Day turned to night and with it brought a snowstorm more severe than they had yet to experience. The snow drifts had gotten so deep that the hobbits could no longer walk on their own. Huddled tight to the backs of the men, their tiny arms were slowly losing the strength to hang on.

Nim kept to the back of the group, only being trailed by Bill the pony and Gimli. She kept close to Aragorn's back, walking in the trench left behind from his larger frame. Their trudge forward was incredibly slow and dangerous. One slip and any one of them could plummet to the depths below. Grabbing the edges of her cloak, she tried to tighten the fabric around her. The wind and snow was becoming too much for her. She lacked the armor and body size the men had to help stay warm. She kept herself hidden behind Aragorn to block most of the wind but the chill made it's way through her bones anyway.

"There is a fell voice in the air."

Peeking out from within her hood, her eyes found Legolas at the head of their group, perched gracefully atop the snow drifts, his eyes staring off into the distance. Ignoring the pain in her limbs, she listened but heard nothing save for the sound of the swirling wind.

"It's Saruman!" Thunder cracked from above, and the earth rumbled beneath their feet. Nim stumbled from the jolt, trying to regain her footing without slamming into the back of the ranger in front of her.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain. Gandalf! We must turn back!" Ignoring Aragorn, Gandalf stepped ahead of the group, raising his staff to chant to the wind. His words were rushed and muffled but seemed to do nothing but anger the voice of Saruman.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning split the sky, striking the mountain top. It's unnatural strength loosening shale and snow, sending it careening in their direction.

"Nim, watch out!" Gimli's arm shot out around her waist, pushing her back against the mountain wall with a force that connected her head hard against the stone. Dazed, she barely felt the snow tumble upon her. Their world was smothered around them.

The snow cut off any light she may have seen before. She could hear shouting but it was muffled too much from the snow that she couldn't tell where it was coming from. Still dizzy from her tumble backward, she tried to touch the back of her head but she found her arms too buried to even move. Moving her head slightly, she couldn't see Gimli or Aragorn by her side. Starting to panic, she tried to shout for anyone but she feared her voice wasn't strong enough.

Her attempts were futile as she could no longer hear their voices. What if they couldn't find her before she lost all air to breathe? Her breathing became more erratic as she began to fear for her life. What if they thought she had fallen? Lost to them forever, they would have to move on, leaving her behind to die slowly. Clenching her fists, she tried to think of a way to get them to see her.

Her breath hitched as she looked down at her frozen hands. She could do it. She needed to get out of here so the fellowship could move on. She didn't even know if any of them were injured. What if something happened to them? To Legolas? That pain of loss would be too unbearable to endure.

Taking one more deep breath, she focused harder on her hands than she had ever before. If it worked, the fire would suck out whatever remaining air she had left. She prayed it would work.

Her fingers slowly began to thaw but still no fire. Her mind strayed to Legolas again, his blue eyes so beautiful in this dark world to her. Could she really let herself go this easily without knowing what could've been.

Smoke rose from her palms as a small flame began to dance along her fingertips. Gasping, she smiled and beginning to raise her hands toward her white canopy. The heat slowly causing it to rain upon her head. Drawing one more deep breath, she pushed for more fire, finally extinguishing the last of her air.

The sudden weight of the avalanche held nothing over his elvish strength. Flinging his head out of the snow, he drew in a tight breath as he searched for the others. The sharp intake of air to his right, signaled both Aragorn and Boromir had surfaced. Pulling himself free from the packed snow, he helped Gandalf try to dig himself free.

The hobbits were completely covered in snow but were soon accounted for. Pulling the wizard to his feet, he gently brushed the clumps of hard snow still clinging to his cloak. "Nim! Gimli!"

Legolas paused in his assessment of Gandalf, his heart suddenly stopping in his chest. Shooting his eyes down their trodden path, he didn't see either of them. He should've known! Both Gimli and Nim were among the smallest members of their group besides the Halflings. With the hobbits clinging to the men, they had little to fear being completely buried but their last two members were lost somewhere, running out of air.

"Nim!" Running past the other members who were frantically searching, he tried to spot anything that would show him where they were. Trudging atop the snow was even more dangerous if he compacted the snow even harder above their heads.

Sweat began to collect along his brow as time seemed to rush by. How much longer could they last under these conditions? He only knew how to think like an elf and it wasn't helping in any way to reassure him that they both might still be alive. What if they weren't buried? What if the force of the falling snow had caused their bodies to drop from the ledge? Growling audibly now, he focused on the snow beneath his feet, trying to hear anything.

Steam began to rise from the path ahead of him, clouding his vision. Wait…..steam. "I've found them!"

Falling to his knees, he shoved his hands deep in the ice, seeking the heat. Aragorn and Boromir were soon next to him, digging for the dwarf that was last seen behind her. Legolas's movements were frantic as he shoved more and more snow aside. He could feel the heat more, knowing she'd be under there but in what condition.

His hand grab hers and he gritted his teeth against the searing pain as he gripped fire. Pulling her up, her head suddenly surfaced, gasping for air. Coughing as she dragged fresh air into her lungs, he held her tired body against his own.

Her body continued to convulse against his chest as she calmed down. Her fire already extinguished before he had completely pulled her free. Aragorn's tired body landed with a heavy thud next to him, his hand slowly brushing the hair away from Nimirher's eyes. "Nim, are you alright?"

She could barely manage a nod before a moan escaped her lips. Legolas cradled her head against his, pulling her body as close as he could. He paused as he felt something sticky on his palm, blood now covering his porcelain skin. Cursing, Aragorn helped him bring her to her feet before he gently picked her up.

"We must get off the mountain! Make for the gap of Rohan and take the West road to my city."

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard."

"We cannot pass over the mountain. Let us go under it. Let us go through the Mines of Moria."

Legolas heard nothing the fellowship argued over. His eyes still rested on the unconscious woman lying in his arms. Her skin so cold to the touch, her head still bleeding against his tunic. They had no choice but to head back down the mountain. If they kept going, she would die from her injuries. He needed to get her to the forest line so he could gather herbs to heal her.

"We will go through the mines."

Caradhras had defeated them.