hy We Never Made it Over Caradhras and Had to go Underneath Instead

Did they send me daughters

When I asked for sons?

-Capt. Shang

25 December 3018, of the Third Age

3 Afteryule 1419, Shire-Reckoning Time...

We could not depart Rivendell without provisions and the elves' blessing, traveling all day through wood and plains that were unknown to us. The scenery amazed not only me but the rest of the company as well, having never journeyed so far before. Of course, in three days of walking with our packs and tripping over rocks, we were overcome with weariness. Gandalf helped to ease the journey by letting us rest on a grassy hill in the wild.

For a few moments I listened to Gandalf explain our trek. "We must hold this course west of the Misty Mountains for forty days. If our luck holds, the Gap of Rohan will still be open to us. From there our road turns east to Mordor…"

The names were unfamiliar and I did not know anything except that it was going to be a long journey and we had to protect Frodo and his Ring. So I unsheathed my sword and joined Merry and Pippin in a fighting lesson taught by none other than Boromir.

"Two, One, Five. Good. Very good," he was telling Pippin as Merry watched.

"Move your feet," Aragorn warned.

Pippin parried and blocked Boromir's attacks.

"That's good, Pippin," Merry called.

Pippin's concentration lessened as he turned towards Merry. "Thanks," he replied happily.

"Alright, let me try," I said assertively, and took Pippin's place.

"Go back, little girl," Boromir snorted, tapping my shoulder with his blade. "Battles are no place for women. Go back to your fire and make yourself useful otherwise. Make me something to eat, or mend our clothes." He gave a little laugh, like it was a joke, like that was the reason I'd come on the expedition.

My confidence (and my sword arm) dropped with a blink. Glancing about me, Merry and Pippin looked murderous, and Frodo and Sam, watching from a little ledge, were frowning down at Boromir.

"I want to fight," I said, controlling my sudden desire to snick the sword across Boromir's thigh.

"We've got a long way to go," Boromir said in agitation after I clumsily swung my sword at him. "You need to be tranquil and sure, but…you fight as though you're too cautious, like you're afraid you'll hurt yourself or me. You're spirited and headstrong and determined, but you must harness that energy to your body, not just leave it in your head. Don't be afraid to throw a hard blow."

"I shan't," I said, rolling my eyes at the way Boromir had deeply analyzed my personality in one swing of a sword. And in one attack, I had let my reflexes block for me, swiftly counterattacking and attacking until Boromir himself tired and began having trouble blocking my attacks.

"Ok, Ok, you're not just good for cooking and sewing," Boromir replied, wiping his jaw. I could see he was slightly amazed at my newly-found warrior skills. "Let Pippin try again."

Pippin and I switched places and Boromir accidentally nicked his hand, and after some jumping around in pain, Pip kicked Boromir in the shin and he and Merry both ran at him.

"Aah!" Boromir laughed.

"Get him!" Merry cried while Pippin yelled.

"Hold him, Merry! This is for the Shire!"

I laughed, stowing my sword in its scabbard, and went to sit by Sam and Frodo, taking some bread to snack on.

"What is that?" Sam suddenly asked, pointing up at a fast-moving dark mass in the sky.

"Nothing," Gimli said. "Just a whiff of cloud."

Boromir, free of Merry and Pippin, sat up. "It's moving fast…against the wind," he said fearfully.

Legolas, from his perch, leapt down and ran for cover. "Crebain! From Dunland!" He shouted.

"But what's Crebain…?" I began but Legolas grasped my cloak and tossed me to the ground.

"Be still," he urged.

"HIDE!" Aragorn yelled, and we scrambled under rocks and brush. I thrust myself in a pocket of rock with Frodo and Sam, until the flock of crows had passed.

As we crawled out of hiding, Gandalf spat on the ground. "Spies of Sauruman!" He told us. "The passage south is being watched. We must take the pass of Caradhras." After saying it, he looked helplessly north to the Misty Mountains, where we would have to cross.

11-12 January 3019, of the Third Age

21-22 Afteryule 1419, Shire-Reckoning Time...

We began the climb up the snowy slopes of Caradhras, and suddenly knew it was a mistake. We hobbits were unprepared for the snow and ice, and besides being dreadfully cold, the winds toppled us right over. Frodo at one point lost his footing and tumbled backwards, losing his ring, which Boromir picked up for him as Aragorn helped Frodo to his feet.

I was holding Aragorn's hand at the time and brushed snow off Frodo's cloak as he eyed Boromir holding his ring.

"It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing... such a little thing." He gazed at the golden ring upon its chain.

"Give the ring to Frodo," Aragorn said angrily, glancing down at Frodo's frightened face, and mine.

"As you wish," Boromir replied coldly, handing it over without looking at it. "I care not." Only then, after Frodo had snatched it away, did he look upon his face, and he reached a burly hand and roughly tousled Frodo's hair, stared at me, and walked on.

It was then I noticed Aragorn had been holding his sword's hilt, and he relaxed, releasing it once Boromir had gone.

We finally reached the Pass of Caradhras, struggling through the heavy snows. I had stayed with Aragorn, clinging to his waist as we fought our way through. The wind whipped our faces and the ice was cruel on the eyes, and as the storm grew ever worse, Legolas, walking along and keeping watch, cried out to us.

"There is a fell voice on the air!"

I could not hear Gandalf's reply except for one word, "Saruman."

At that moment lightning struck the mountain and an avalanche of snow fell around us.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn bellowed, clutching me tighter to him, and wrapping his cloak a little tighter around me. "Gandalf! We must turn back!"

"No!" Gandalf cried back. I began to shiver and cough, licking my lips to bring back circulation. My hands and feet were numb, and my ears were beginning to sting from being exposed for so long. Snow piled itself upon my pale face, and my eyes fluttered. I began to go completely warm and sleepy until Boromir's voice startled me.

"We must get off the mountain! This will be the death of the little ones! The hobbits, Gandalf! Let us make for the Gap of Rohan and take the West roads to my city!"

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard," Aragorn argued, shaking me slightly to wake me, and rubbing the cloak over my back and hands.

"Let the Ringbearer decide," was Gandalf's reply. "Frodo?"

We all turned to Frodo. He caught my eye and saw how I and the others suffered from the cold. I could tell he had been, as well; his voice was such that it sounded as if his lips were numb. "We will go through the mines," he said, and I was ever grateful.

I felt a great deal more alive when we reached the Walls of Moria, and sat with Merry and Pippin beside a great lake, not saying anything but resting our feet instead. Gimli exclaimed, excitedly, that the doors were hidden and often for so long that their own masters could not find them again. Legolas sniffed. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

I turned round to watch what was happening. Gandalf was standing at a place in front of the walls where two trees grew.

"It mirrors only starlight..." Gandalf murmured, turning to the skies where the moon shone over us. "And moonlight..." He backed up and white, milky lines glowed over the doors, spreading into an elaborate design of trees and runes. "It reads 'The Doors of Durin—Lord of Moria. Speak Friend, and Enter.'"

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry was speaking to us, but he turned around as to look upon the doors, and Gandalf answered him.

"Oh it's quite simple," he said kindly. "If you are a friend you speak the password and the doors will open."

That meant waiting around for our feet to come back to life and for someone to figure out the password. Merry and I sighed.

After a few failed tries, Pippin moaned. "Nothing's happening," he whined, tossing a rock into the lake.

"I once knew every spell in the tongues of men, elves, and orcs," Gandalf complained himself, pushing his hand against the door.

"What are you going to do, then?" Pippin asked.

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took. And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words."

Pippin frowned, but Merry and I sniggered. We began throwing stones into the water again, but Aragorn stayed our hands.

"Don't disturb the water," he warned, as Gandalf thrust down his hat.

"Oh, it's useless!" He cried exasperatedly.

Frodo walked up to the door. "It's a riddle," he said slowly, cocking his head to one side. "Speak 'friend,' and enter. What's the elvish word for friend?"

"Mellon," Gandalf said, and the doors opened right then.