The Fellowship climbs the steep and snowy slopes of Caradhras. As they push through the glistening, fresh and crunching snow beneath the great blue sky of Middle Earth, Frodo loses his footing and falls, slipping because of fatigue, rolling down the slope towards Aragorn and Chief.
"Frodo!" Aragorn yells out, rushing forwards in his concern. Gandalf at the head of the column, stops, making sure that everything is alright. It was hard going, the snow was thick, and it was twenty below out here. Even Chief was struggling slightly. His armour was heavy. He kept digging deep into the snow, every other step...this was the worst terrain for a Spartan.
Aragorn then helps Frodo up. Frodo regains his footing, and puts a hand instinctively to his neck for the ring. Finding it missing, and feeling a stabbing feeling of panic, he looks back up the slope. The ring lies in the snow, the golden band gleaming, obvious against its blindingly white surroundings. A hand reaches out, pulling the gleaming band from the pure white power. Boromir takes it, holding the chain it is attached to as he handles the relic, almost caressing it.
Chief see's this too. He has already begun marching towards him. Gandalf tightens the grip of his staff. Who knows what magic he will conjure up should things turn nasty. "Boromir." Aragorn says, transparent in his concern. Boromir is oblivious to him, entranced by the Ring. His face is blank, no emotion, nothing, but perhaps a hint of awe. He is utterly transfixed by its inviting powers.
"It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt…over so small a thing. Such a little thing." Boromir says, speaking softly. He reaches with his other hand to touch it.
"Boromir!" Aragorn barks in warning, when all of a sudden Chief grabs Boromir's free hand, sharply pulling it away from the Ring. As he does so, John touches it himself, a single finger brushing against its surface. John immediately felt as if he was worlds away. There are no sounds, no wind, voices are muffled, like they would be in a near vacuum. Then he began to hear the whispering. Just as he had before.
It was soft, so soft, you almost missed it the whispering was so soft. But it was there, whispering, tempting, the voice of the one ring...the voice of Sauron. "You have defied Gods themselves...saviour of worlds...you can do more, save more, be more...S-p-a-r-t-a-n...the soldier, who doubts..."
Then he snapped out of it. His mind was hard and unbendable, he would not succumb to weakness. But he felt different, doubts clouded his mind, surely the fellowship would fail...Boromir's words echoed in his mind, "Not with ten thousand!" But it is not the voice of the man he hears in the memory. Boromir speaks with the voice of the ring.
"Boromir!" Aragorn barked again. Causing both he and Chief to look around at him. Chief was still holding him.
"Spartan?" The scared man asked him, not daring to say anything other than his formal title. Boromir is wincing, in obvious discomfort at the super soldier's hand clamped around his wrist.
"Chief...let go of him. Please, its fine!" The experienced ranger reassures. Chief then notices Aragorn's hand on the hilt of his sword and knows that something is troubling him. Could he sense the danger Boromir faced as well? He lets go of his arm without another sound. "Thank you John...now Boromir...give the ring to Frodo!" Aragorn says with subtle menace. Boromir walks forward, and holds out the Ring for Frodo.
"As you wish… (Frodo does not wait, and grabs the Ring sharply, a tormented expression on his face)...I care not." He replies, sniffing in amusement. He gazes into Aragorn's fiery eyes, he knows what is going through the rangers mind. He knows what Aragorn is prepared to do. Boromir jokingly rubs Frodo's hair, turning to resume climbing, slinging his shield back onto his shoulder. Frodo looks on suspiciously and Aragorn releasing his grip from his sword. Chief also stares at him suspiciously as he walks past, keeping his eyes fixed on him.
"That was even stranger than I expected!" Remarks Cortana. Chief now knew who the weakest member of the group was. As Aragorn walks past, holding Frodo's arm, to stop him from falling again, Chief has one question for the ranger. "Would you have done it?"
He looks up at the Spartan. "Done what?" He asks back. John nods at Aragorn's sword. Then the ranger understands. Would he had killed Boromir? Aragorn has steel in his eyes, and his face is set grimly. He shakes his head, saying "But I would give my life for Frodo. Yet, it is not only Boromir that I am wary of!"
Holding the hobbits hand, he continues walking up the mountain, Frodo looking up at him with respect and awe. He knows that he is in good and noble company. John looks into the eyes of Aragorn, and in an instant sees the distrust within them. He realises, that he has been compromised by the ring, to the extent that he was just as captivated as Boromir. He begins to promise himself that this would never happen again. "Not with ten thousand!" There it was again!
He steeled himself, conducting every control mechanism at his disposal, and finally began to feel his mind stabilise. He had suppressed his anxieties, his deepest fears and personal pains, all the weaknesses of his character...he had done all this...for now.
"Come on Chief, don't let things get to you...you are not alone out here. You have friends...and you have me!" Cortana's ancillary appeared over his HUD, and she gave him a reassuring smile. Little did Chief know however, that she was hearing the voices as well.
"Formless...living...never living...living hell..."
A few hours later, the hobbits were in very bad way. Chief was carrying Merry and Pippin, Aragorn Frodo, Boromir Sam. He was finally putting himself to good use! Chief was reading -34^C on his HUD. The hobbits couldn't last out here, they needed artic gear. Light weight elven clothing couldn't deal with cold like this, and the hobbit's vitals were already dangerously low. They needed to get off the mountain quickly. He could see on his HUD, their thermals were turning a very dark blue.
The men's were not far behind. Yet the others seemed superhuman. Their core temperatures were affected, a light green, not significantly... he was amazed at how the others could withstand the cold. Then he heard a voice drifting on the winds.
"Cuiva nwalca Carnirasse. Nai yarvaxea rasselya!" (Wake up cruel Redhorn! May your horn be blood-stained!)
Legolas had heard it as well. "There is a foul voice on the air". He knew all about the magic and enchantments of the world, but he didn't yet understand the implications of what he was hearing. Nor did he recognise the voice. There was someone within the fellowship who did.
Gandalf's eyes were blazing, like two flames burning bright within the freezing and tumultuous blizzard air. There was anger, fear, despair and hate in Gandalf's eyes. "It's Saruman!" He yells out loud, just as a giant section of rock gives way above the pass. The closest rocks struck the sides of the passage, missing the fellowship by a hairs breath.
Aragorn had had enough, Gandalf had to come to reason. The other options had to be safer than this. "He's trying to bring down the mountain! Gandalf, we MUST go back!"
But the stubborn Istari wasn't giving up yet. "NOOOOOO!" Driving against the wind and snow that pelt into his eyes. He stood at the edge of the pass, and began to sing himself. Everyone looked on, realising what would happen if he failed.
"Losto Caradhras! Sedho hodo. Nuitho I' ruith!" (Sleep, Caradhras! Be still, lie still. Hold your wrath!) But his efforts were futile. The spell was too far ahead of him. A massive lightning strike struck the peak above, and everyone gazed upwards, all apart from Chief. His eyes were on his motion sensor, and it had just gone crazy. He had only seconds left.
"Everyone get back. GET BACK NOW!" Chief shouted. Then the avalanche started to fall.
"Chief! The likelihood of us staying on this path is exactly two point-" "Don't tell me the odds Cortana!" Chief said out loud. She wasn't exactly helping!
Legolas grabbed hold of Gandalf, not moments before the first huge debris began to fall. Then all hell broke loose. Crushing noise, and snow pulling them towards the edge. Then there was a massive shunt, permafrost or rock, he didn't care, it had hit him. Chief could feel himself moving, slipping, nothing to hold onto...the two hobbits he had thrown behind him crying out, slipping, pressing against him, all three moving towards the edge.
Even he couldn't supress the waves of deep and primal panic washing over him. The hobbits wouldn't survive the fall. He had to act! Fighting every survival instinct he had, Chief pushed against their tiny bodies, pushing them away from him...
Everything had gone silent. Little flecks of snow still slipped from the wiped out pass, the ten nowhere to be seen.
Legolas was up first, in one graceful motion slipping through the entire covering.
A small hand reached out above the snow, clawing out, trying to find something to grab, a hand a person, anything.
Aragorn and an exhausted, shivering Frodo were next, teamwork showing its advantages.
Boromir had thrown himself above Sam, shielding him from the barrage of snow and rock and ice. Pushing with all his might, Boromir moved to the right, almost falling off the side, just keeping his balance. A dazed Samwise fighting both snow and mild concussion.
A wild Gimli drove out of the deep snow, snarling like some wild beast. Regaining his composure, he, aided by Legolas dug Gandalf out, he was the deepest of them all.
Boromir, himself now freezing, tried to take control of the situation. "We must get off the mountain! We should make for the gap of Rohan...I'd take the west road, take us to my city!" Aragorn immediately disagreed, he was thinking father ahead.
"The path of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Whilst the others clutched at straws, Gimli knew that he alone had the best option. He turned to Gandalf, and willing, begging him to him to see sense. "If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it! Let us go through the mines of Moria!" But then, before anyone could consider another thought, the voice of Merry rang out.
"Chief! Where is the Chief!" The fellowship looked around in confusion, almost as if the information hadn't yet registered. But everyone realised. Chief hadn't surfaced yet. But, he was the mightiest, the strongest amongst them all! If he hadn't surfaced yet...everyone feared the worst.
"What happened Merry?" Aragorn demanded, transparent fear plaguing his words.
"Something hi-hi-it us-s-s" He was shivering badly, couldn't get his words out. Pippin was faring far better. Rubbing Merry's shoulders and back vigorously, he spoke for his friend. There was a different side coming out of the hobbit.
"Don't speak merry, save your strength...I felt a shunt. Chief stumbled bad suddenly, something had hit us. Something hard, and heavy. We got picked up by the snow, I could feel myself slipping. It was, Chief was, I felt a force. His hand, pushing us back up to the side, I think...I..." His voice was cracking, he couldn't believe what was happening. He winced as tear-water began to freeze behind his eyelids.
There was complete silence, Frodo and Merry even forgot about their shivering for a moment. Chief was the strongest, the most powerful, no foe could touch him...it couldn't be, mustn't be!
"CHIEF!" Aragorn bellowed. He was gazing over the side of the pass, down into blackness, the void of a fall no one could survive. Others, the ones brave enough to look over, Legolas and Gimli. They were stunned by what they saw.
There, just a few feet down, was Chief.
John was shaken significantly, but adrenaline coursed through his system. He could feel nothing, no fear, no pain. "Chief! Use your combat knife! The rock is too unstable and weak to scale without it!" Chief was trembling a little, the sheer amount of adrenaline pulsing through him. No risks, climbing inch by inch, he slowly crept upwards, scaling the mountain.
"Help me get him up!" Aragorn ordered, and the combined strength of him, Gimli and Legolas struggled and helped him climb over the last few inches. As he lay there, pressed against the side of the mountain, Gimli was the first to speak. He punched the Spartan, chuckling heavily.
"Well done Chief. We thought we'd lost you there for a second laddie! You one lucky man, I'll give you that!"
John breathed out and relaxed. "It'll take more than that!" Patting him on the shoulder again, and confidant that the indomitable warrior was ok, Gimli turned back to Gandalf. This madness had to end, but he held back his anger.
"So, will you yield to reason? Will you pass through the halls of my ancestors Gandalf?" That moment had scared Chief, it had scared everyone. The hobbits were in a bad way. He had almost fallen to his death. This was a futile, a suicide errand. Gandalf, as Gimli said, had to see reason...
"Sir! The hobbits are failing, they can't go on. Gandalf, they will die if we don't get them off the mountain right NOW!" Gandalf, sighed. Chief was right, he had to get the hobbits out of here. But, there were other options besides Moria.
"Let the ringbearer decide our route!" He announced to the surprise of everyone. Frodo turned to the wizard, very taken aback, he didn't know what to do. "Frodo?" Gandalf repeated, with all fealty, hoping he wouldn't say it.
Frodo had not had to make a more important decision. There were nine other lives suddenly thrust into his responsibility. He had heard many options from many members of the group...but he saw only one option that was the safest.
"We will go through the mines!" He said unsurely. Gandalf sighed, his resistance crushed. "So be it!"
Merry and Pippin were strong enough to walk again, but Sam was badly concussed. He would be fine, but he couldn't possibly move right now. As Chief scooped up the confused Halfling, his path was blocked by Merry and Pippin. Pippin was the first to speak. "Chief...you saved our lives. Knowing the risks, you could have saved yourself. Wh, why?" For Chief, the answer was simple.
"I am a Spartan. It is my duty to protect humanity...all those worth defending...It's what Spartans do."
The road back down had certainly been a lot more rewarding. Gandalf had picked the shortest and steepest routes to get the hobbits down as quickly as possible. Chief, Legolas, Boromir and Aragorn had each taken a hobbit, and had ran down the mountain ahead of him. Slopes, cliffs, scree and all, they had to be as fast as possible before hyperthermia set in.
They had gotten away in time. Aragorn had slipped once, but it had been a harmless scare. They waited for Gandalf and Gimli at the bottom. Gimli had been driving the old wizard mad with tales of dwarven time of old, and tales of a long gone by Moria. The wizard didn't have the heart to tell him the truth.
The Fellowship passes south. In the shadowy ruins of a great aqueduct, surrounded by fog, Gandalf beckons to Frodo. "Frodo, come and help an old man if you would!" Frodo walks over, helping Gandalf without question. The old wizard smiles in response and thanks. The track is difficult. The rocks are slippery, and the road is loose, easy to lose ones footing. Yet it wasn't himself that he was worried about.
"How is your shoulder?" Gandalf asks in care. It had turned out that Frodo had also been injured during the avalanche. As the ice and snow had crushed down on top of them, Frodo's feet had been picked right out from under him. It was a miracle that he hadn't been carried away over the Cliffside. Pressed down against the mountain road his arm had been pulled right back, and it still hurt him badly when he moved.
"Better than it was." Frodo replies. "And the Ring?" Gandalf asks.
The two then look at each other. Frodo had much fear in his eyes. Gandalf knew what he was going through. "You feel its power growing, don't you? I've felt it too. You must be careful now. Evil will be drawn to you from outside the Fellowship...and, I fear, from within." Gandalf says as the shadowy shape of a Fellowship member passes by as the two converse. Gandalf looks up with suspicion, Frodo with fear. Frodo cannot make out who it is. Gandalf doesn't have to see in order to know.
"Who then do I trust?" Frodo asks worried.
"You must trust yourself, always and without doubts Frodo. Trust your own strengths." Gandalf replies. Making a decision was sometimes more important than overanalysing.
"What do you mean?" He didn't understand what Gandalf was saying.
"There are many powers in this world, both Good and for Evil Frodo. Some are greater than I am" He tells him honestly, "And some, against which I have not yet been tested..." Gandalf says, his voice trailing away. Before Frodo could say anymore, they are interrupted by a gasp from Gimli.
"Look! The Walls…of Moria!"