"And since we've got no place to go,
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."
-Sammy Cahn

As it turned out, walking up a mountain was no easy feat for anyone.

Gandalf led the way, creating a trail for the others to follow, and Amelia walked being Gimli and the hobbits, to ensure that they didn't drown in the tall snow, which went up to their necks. Amelia felt the cold sunlight keenly as she nearly stumbled and pulled her coat closer around her, though her legs still shook beneath her from the intense cold.

"Be careful, lass." Gimli called back and she snorted at him, still keeping her attitude as unaffected as possible.

"Please. I'm from Vermont. If there's two things I know, its mountains and snow." Amelia found that, while the hobbits looked freezing, she only found the air intensely cool herself and not as deathly cold as they seemed to. "I guess I've built up a sort of immunity to the cold." She smiled wistfully at the mountains around her. "I wish I had my skis."

"Your skis?" Legolas questioned. Amelia saw, in a surge of jealousy, how his feet didn't sink into the snow and he walked on it, beside Gandalf's trail, as easily as walking on the earth.

"They're narrow boards!" Pippin chirped from up ahead. "You strap them to your feet and go down mountains! But it only works if there's snow, since you get stuck in the mud." Legolas shook his head in disbelief, fascination and interest spreading on his face, but she ignored him. Then, a predatory smile spread on her face as she looked at the back of the hobbits. The layer of snow ceased its height, began to only reach their thighs and Amelia seized her opportunity.

A soft snowball, expertly made, hit Merry's back and he jumped, twisting in mid-air to survey his challenger. Amelia was whistling innocently, looking up towards the clear sky, but Merry was far from fooled by her overacted display of innocence.

"Get her!" He shouted immediately and Pippin joined in with great enthusiasm.

Amelia found that, while she had had much practice with her brothers whenever they visited in winter, the hobbits were worthy adversaries. She heard Gimli make an affronted exclamation as she used his wide shoulders as a stepping stone, launching herself high up, into the air and raining snowballs down upon the hobbits. However, their stubbornness won out in the end and Amelia had to ruffle melting snowflakes out of her messy, brown hair, which she realized she hadn't washed in several days and were more tangles than locks.

"I yield!" She gasped as Merry prepared another round of snowballs with a grin, his earlier dissatisfaction with their surroundings having vanished in the face of what fun could be done with it. "I yield, I yield. God, you could give even Tobias a run for his money." The hobbits looked puzzled, but accepted her surrender as graciously as they were able without bursting into peals of laughter yet again.

"Hobbits." She heard Gandalf mutter and she made a rude gesture at his back. She heard the hobbits gasp and stifle their giggling and she gave them a playful wink.

"Skiing isn't the only thing we do in Vermont. We've found lots of ways to keep warm." She grimaced playfully at the insinuation, then heaved a sigh and looked away. "What I wouldn't give for my armchair and a Starbucks right now…" Despite her melancholy, she pressed on, content with walking among the hobbits and answering their seemingly endless questions about 'Veermoont'. She had begun to suspect that Pippin only pronounced it that way for old times' sake.

She found that she didn't really mind.

Then, she heard a sharp gasp and turned to see Frodo, who had at one point joined in their revelry at Pippin's repeated urging, but quickly yielded, fumbling at his chest where the ring was supposed to be. She immediately looked towards Boromir, who was already bending down to pick up the ring by its chain and she clenched her teeth. He was looking at it as if it was of immense interest to him and not just a piece of golden jewelry, as if it was tempting him with all that he wanted in life.

"Boromir." Aragorn said lowly, with a hint of warning in his voice. Boromir didn't seem to hear.

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt for so small a thing…" He muttered to himself as he held the ring up in front of his face and Amelia sighed at him. "Such a little thing…" He began reaching out for it.

"Boromir!" Aragorn snapped and the man's gaze snapped to him, jerked out of his reverie. "Give the ring to Frodo." Slowly, the gondorian approached the hobbit, holding out the ring.

"As you wish." He began to smile as the hobbit snatched the ring out of his gloved hand and hastily put it around his neck. "I care not." He ruffled Frodo's dark curls, but the gesture seemed derogatory, not like when the others did it to the hobbits. Boromir turned away and Amelia glared daggers at him as he continued his trek in the snow without looking back.

Suddenly, she didn't feel much like playing anymore.

"Oh, give it up, will you?" Amelia shouted over the howling wind as Boromir and Aragorn attempted to light a fire together, but failed miserably. The sky had darkened some short hours before dinnertime and a storm of snow had been upon them, with sharp gusts of wind and whirling amounts of snowflakes. "You're never going to light a fire in this!"

"Ever the optimist." Legolas quipped calmly and Amelia glared at him.

"I've lived in Vermont for two years, in a cold, freezing house and even I think that lighting a fire is hopeless!" Amelia conveniently forgot about the part where she'd never actually tried to start a fire.

"I agree with Miss Jones." Gandalf voiced his opinion reluctantly, as if he feared it would cause Amelia harm. His voice was hard to hear over the storm raging around them, but it had become almost second-nature for the Fellowship to strain to hear whatever he said, no matter the circumstances.

"As do I." If Amelia hadn't been shooting glances at Boromir she wouldn't have seen his mouth move with the words and never believed that it was him who had spoken. Aragorn nodded reluctantly, but continued to try, even though they had agreed that it was hopeless. Amelia gaped at Boromir, but then frowned to herself. She reminded herself that Boromir was not her enemy, though there was an amount of animosity between them. If he found something she said sensible, though she doubted there would be many of those moments, he wasn't the type to keep it to himself out of spite. On that point, he was better than her.

"I miss the Shire." Pippin whined and Merry hushed him.

"Yes, but let us not speak of what we miss, for it will only make the parting be felt that much keener." Frodo calmed him and Amelia had to admire the hobbit for a moment. He certainly didn't seem as prone to melancholy as the Frodo portrayed by Peter Jackson, but he did have a certain manner about him, a way of speaking in a grander way than his fellow halflings, that made him stand out.

"Well said." Amelia turned away from the others and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. She thought she heard a distant howl that didn't sound like the wind, but she couldn't be sure.

"Gandalf," She heard Boromir say loudly, to ensure that the entire Fellowship heard him, "We cannot continue along this road." Amelia turned back to look at him.

"We have no other option." Gandalf answered reluctantly.

"This will be the death of the hobbits!" Boromir insisted. Gandalf heaved a heavy sigh and clutched the bridge of his nose.

"Dude, we might not get along, but you're right about this one." Amelia chirped. Boromir didn't look like he understood the words she used, other than the fact than she was agreeing with him.

"If we cannot go over the mountain, let us go under it!" Gimli exclaimed exasperatedly and Amelia barely kept a wince away when she remembered what lurked in the darkness of that place, tempted to change opinion at the reminder.

"Let the ringbearer decide." Gandalf finally said, after a pregnant pause and Amelia stared at him with huge eyes. It hit her like a battering ram that, though his words were the same, she had once again managed to make a mess of when and how things were supposed to happen. It was night and they were huddled beneath and outcropping of stone, the wind howling eerily around them, that provided poor shelter from the storm of snow that seemed to have appeared out of thin air.

Frodo looked horrified that the decision had been dumped on him. Amelia felt a pang of sympathy for the little guy as he rubbed his hands nervously against each other, trying to bring some heat back into them.

"We'll go through the mines." He finally decided, though he didn't look pleased at contradicting Gandalf, the unofficial leader of the group. The wizard slumped, though Gimli looked pretty happy about the verdict.

"So be it." Gandalf sighed and leaned on his staff as he stood. Amelia felt a feeling of calm, but reluctant acceptance settle into her body. They were going to Moria. Events would transpire there and…

An icy feeling settled in her heart. Gandalf had admitted that even he did not know as much of what would happen as she did. If she did not warn him, she would have stood by and let him die without interfering, even though she held the power. His death would at least be partially on her, no matter what would have happened without her presence. She had felt no regret when she thought that she would watch from the sidelines as Boromir met his end, but her feelings about Gandalf the Grey were another matter.

She could thus not allow herself to reveal the full extent of her knowledge to the rest of the Fellowship. They would know that she was to blame just as well as she would. Amelia could come up with several excuses as to why she shouldn't tell them, but refused to acknowledge what she knew to be the truth.
Amelia Jones was truly afraid, perhaps for the first time in her life. Not nervous, as she had been before her exams or irate, as she became before each vaccine she had ever had. True fear rushed through her limbs and in that moment, she knew that she had never really been afraid before, shielded as she had been in her comfortable life in her comfortable world.

She helped Sam to his feet and stayed close to the hobbits as they went back the way they came, feeling an irrational urge to stay with the closest friends she had in Middle-Earth.

Then, it hit her full force, as she shielded her face from the bitter, cold gusts of wind. She could count the number of friends she had left on her own two hands. The thought made her consider who she actually considered her friends. The four hobbits she was fond of, Merry and Pippin the most, and Gimli, of course, whom she had formed a gruff, honest relationship with. She reluctantly admitted to herself that Gandalf was a friend of hers, despite her still being mad at him for bringing her into Middle-Earth at all. She would have liked to consider Aragorn her friend, but felt that they still hadn't moved beyond the point of casual acquaintances. Arwen was a close friend of hers, but she had remained in Rivendell. Still, she counted. Boromir, she thought, was an ass and she'd hardly talked to Legolas at all. She made a mental note to change that in the near future, as she helped Sam down a high, slippery ledge of stone.

That made a total of seven friends in all of Arda.

Amelia told herself that she didn't care, that she had never been the type to make a lot of friends and managed to convince herself at last after what had seemed like an eternity of walking and they had reached the end of their descent. They were all sopping wet, the snow caught in their hair and clothes melting quickly when away from Caradhras. Doubt gnawed at her yet again and she was glad when the Fellowship settled for an exhausted rest in the wet grass without even setting up camp. However, though she was resting, she couldn't fall asleep. Her mind refused to let her, though she was aching and exhausted. At last, she resolved to letting herself stay awake for a little while yet before attempting to sleep again and sat up, rubbing her face. She used her backpack as a pillow, mindful of anything breakable inside of it, and rarely took off her coat. Falling asleep took her longer on the road because she had gotten used to the luxurious standards of Imladris. Any other reasons than that, she refused to think of.

She felt a pair of eyes resting on her and she turned her head to see Legolas watching her in the darkness, his pale hair shining like a beacon in the light of the stars, clearly visible through the snow that still fell harshly around them. That was another thing unlike her own home; the stars seemed much clearer and brighter.

"What troubles you?" He asked her as he fiddled with an arrow in his hands, but with a purpose behind it, one that Amelia couldn't decipher. He seemed quite casual, walking atop the snowbanks as if they were the solid ground below them.

"Lots of things." She responded evasively, but loudly, attempting not to disturb the rest of the Fellowship around her, but shouting was necessary in the harsh weather. "Mostly the potential end of the world and what the heck I'm even doing here, but… well." She finished, having no lust for conversation, despite her wish to know the elf better.

"You have a heavy heart." Legolas continued, his eyes intense. "Why would you not share this burden with others?" Amelia got the strange feeling that he was talking about more than just telling the Fellowship the truth. She swallowed.

"I don't know…" She blew out a harsh breath. "I don't know if I'm… good at it. Friendshipping. Familying. Shoot, I mean, every relationship I've ever had, I've felt like… like I was kidding myself, you know? That I wasn't doing it right." The admission made her feel vulnerable and she willed her defenses to go up again, to let her honesty fade. "Anyways, I suppose that doesn't matter anymore."

"You have had many… relationships?" Amelia felt that he was getting a little too personal for comfort and she stiffened slightly.

"Not like that, I…" She fumbled for words. "I mean, I don't just… sleep around, okay? I mean yeah, I've been in committed relationships, nothing out of the ordinary. I get it with you elves, lifelong love and all that, but… sometimes, it just doesn't work like that for us common mortals. Sometimes, you… you just…" Amelia lost her sense of direction in her outburst and grimaced.

"Forgive me." Legolas apologized. "I did not mean to insinuate…"

"No, no, I'm… I'm just tired. And that was pretty rude of me. Our customs are pretty… well, they'd seem pretty weird to you guys and I got my fair share of odd looks back in Rivendell. I mean, this one idiot actually assumed that I was married." She heard a stifled snort come from the other side of their hasty camp and could have sworn she saw a faint smile resting on Aragorn's face, though his eyes were closed. He was listening in. "As if that would ever happen. Right now, I am in a deep and loving relationship with my one true love." Legolas gave her a slightly curious look. "My cat." The elf burst into low, melodious laughter, a beautiful sound in the night. "But I'm cheating on him by having a passionate affair with coffee and mathematics, so hush hush about it, yeah?" The elf smiled warmly at her and stuck his arrow back in his quiver.

"You enjoy mathematics, then?" Amelia's eyes lit up and a faraway smile bloomed across her face, the freezing snow around her momentarily forgotten.

"Damn straight, I do! I mean…" She sighed a happy sigh to herself. "I just love it. I always have. Words are mush, you know, so mathematics, they're… there, constant, logical. Nothing mystical or wondrous, just… there. There are rules and the rules can't be bent and that's… pretty nice, in a world where almost everyone just seems to think that rules are made to be broken." She grinned at him. "I bet you all I own that any math you can come up with, I can solve in less than a day. And I'll enjoy it." Legolas raised his dark eyebrows and his mouth curled upwards again.

"Then I shall ever hope to see you do so, Amelia Jones of Vermont." He spoke the name of the state fluently, flawlessly. "It will be a pleasure to have another matter to think of and to hope for, one not concerned with all that is ominous in the world." Amelia wished she had a mug of ale she could raise at him in a toast.

"Great. Awesome. I mean, math, it's gonna be hard, without anything to write on, but, well, I'll make do with what I have. Just know that I've got a bunch of old, greek men backing me up and Pythagoras has yet to fail me even once." And with those confusing words spoken, Amelia soldiered onwards, down the steep slopes od Caradhras.

"Alright, alright, I've got one." Amelia giggled to herself at her own ingenuity of the joke she was about to let loose. "What do the elves call their friends it they live by the sea?" Gimli hummed and stroked his red beard. Amelia was walking beside him and they both found much merriment in harmless jabs at the elves. Legolas didn't seem to mind, as his eyes had even twinkled in amusement at a particularly good one.

"Alright, lass, you've got me tongue-tied. Out with it." Gimli sighed dramatically and Amelia smirked down at him.

"Water-mellons." Gimli made a loud bark of laughter and Legolas shook his fair head in exasperation.

"I don't get it." She heard Merry mumble to Pippin, who voiced his agreement.

"Well, I can make one about hobbits as well. Just give me a moment here." Amelia thought for a minute or two, humming along the way, before she smirked and asked, as they walked along the darkening path they day after they had let Caradhras defeat them. "Why are most hobbits good guys?"

"Well, I'd say that that's due to their wonderful concept of second breakfast." Gimli answered merrily, grinning up at her, with his axe slung over his shoulder and a hand on the handle.

"It's because they don't look down on people!" Pippin laughed at that one and Merry mustered a grin. Sam seemed a bit confused, but not so much that he was uncomfortable and Frodo smiled a small smile at Amelia, one she returned fully.

"You laugh more." Legolas observed and Amelia blinked at him. Her good mood was something that she also enjoyed, since it seemed to have a will and life all its own.

"Well, my cat has an awful sense of humor. He didn't give me much to laugh at. Besides, all these little people remind me of way back when, you know, my own siblings." Legolas nodded sagely, but his words had startled Amelia and she turned her attention towards other matters. "An, I mean, bad puns is kind of a forced skill to have in your arsenal in high school, college, whatever. I'm pretty good at making people not want to spend time with me that way and rightly so, since I've gone to school most of my life."

"Then you have my utmost sympathy." Boromir joined in and Amelia found that she wouldn't turn his company away, as long as he behaved himself in her eyes. Amelia whined melodramatically.

"I know, I know, I have been traumatized beyond all reason!" She exclaimed and Sam looked horrified for a moment. "Seven hours a day, filled with nothing but studying and reading and socializing and..."

"Seen hours?" Boromir exclaimed in disbelief and Amelia raised her eyebrows at him. "I had tutors myself as a boy, but they never taught me more than three hours a day." Amelia whistled.

"Then you must have had a lot of free time on your hands." She thought aloud. Then, she frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Here, only the rich and the noble get many lessons." Legolas spoke and Amelia felt grateful for the clarification. He seemed to grasp the workings of her home quicker than any other she had met so far. "Yet another thing of difference."

"Yeah, well, I started school when I was…" Amelia pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, thinking hard. "Well, it depends on your definition of school. I'd say, around, what, five years old? I graduated when I was twenty-two, almost twenty-three." Boromir looked impressed and Amelia felt satisfaction at his expression. "That's seventeen, almost eighteen years of school. Lucky me." Amelia rolled her eyes before she continued, albeit begrudgingly. "I'll admit, it does have its advantages. I read very well and math has always been a forte of mine. Never really cared much for history or chemistry and whatever. I mean, it was just kind of there." She shrugged and trudged on, aware of her companions watching her with something that could have been awe. "Besides, as I said, Gandalf brought me here for my brains. Now you know why I've got so much of it."

"Still… must have been boring." Merry chirped and Amelia groaned.

"Buddy, you have no idea. But enough about me." She pursed her lips. "Why don't you tell me about the Shire?" The faces of Merry and Pippin brightened and they spoke over each other, of green hills, clear blue skies, fields of crops and second breakfast. She glanced at Aragorn, saw him smiling at her and returned it, somehow feeling like that small gesture got her another friend in Middle-Earth.

"And then… then there's the pipeweed!" Pippin exclaimed.

"Oh, what I wouldn't give to sit outside the Green Dragon, smoking my pipe in the dusk!" Merry sighed and Amelia gave him a soft look.

"I'd like to see it. I really, really would." She talked without thinking and the hobbits jumped in excitement, nodding.

"Then we can take you there! To see the Shire, of course." Merry promised.

"Only after all of this is well and done though." Pippin added with a decisive nod and Amelia's smile died.

"Well, I can't." She came close to snapping and the hobbits gave her a strange, hurt look.

"Why not?"

"I just can't." Amelia snapped then and turned away sorrowfully, damning Gandalf as she glared daggers at his back, with the feeling that she had just crashed and burned flickering inside of her. She stumbled with her mind distracted and her foot twisted painfully as she fell forwards with a grunt, landing on the hard ground. She swore crudely and felt a hand resting on her shoulder. Her right foot throbbed heavily.

"Are you alright?" Aragorn asked with concern across his face and, for the first time, Amelia felt like she was going to start blubbering. Instead, she smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry about that." Amelia glanced back at the hobbits, willing her apology to extend to them as well and Pippin nodded at her, already seeming to have forgotten about her aggressiveness. Aragorn pulled her up and she winced as she put her weight on her right foot. Aragorn raised his eyebrows questioningly at her and she shook her head. "It's nothing. I'm just a bit sore." Amelia grit her teeth and took a trying step, then another and fell into a walk beside Gimli once again, though this time it was in heavy silence, even as pain flared up through her right leg with each forceful step she took.

A/N: Chapter 8 teaser is now up!