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So this is the tenth chapter! Please continue to read, rate, review etc. I'd love to hear any ideas, suggestions, what you want to happen or even what you DON'T want to happen! Anyways happy reading!
The decision to pass over Caradhras was met with apprehension from the Fellowship. The dull grey mountain loomed high above in the distance, its snow-capped peaks shining in the afternoon sun. It would be no easy task to pass through all the rock and ice but they had little choice in the matter. The only other option would be to go under it and they all feared what lurked in the dark caves.
Now the Fellowship moved cautiously, not wanting to be caught out in the open in case another pack of scouts flew overhead. Most of their progress was made during the night when they could be cloaked by the darkness. They took advantage of clefts and hills in the land and the elves' eyes were often called upon to verify their route when light was in short supply. They dared not light a fire out in the open and took their meals cold, much to the disappointment of the hobbits. Chatter was uncommon and even Pippin seemed unwilling to break the gloomy silence.
The most extreme example of this was Eredhel. She had barely said a word since their close call in Hollin. Even before then she had been quiet save for her conversations with Aragorn or Legolas. Now she was silent, often staring off into the distance as if weighing some great decision. Her experience while sparring with Boromir had shaken her and a darkness was growing on her mind. Gandalf often looked over at her thoughtfully, wondering what was going through the elf's head.
It was two days after the crebain had passed them when the Fellowship finally decided to chance a fire. They had stopped in the shelter of the foothills along the mountain. The ground was uneven and covered in mounds. Sparse brush painted the land in shades of brown, deep green and dusky yellow. Eredhel had gone off on her own for a while and Aragorn was speaking with Gandalf while Sam began to make a meal. He was by far the most skilled cook of their group and eagerly accepted the role. He had just finished putting on some sausages when Eredhel returned. Legolas looked up from the arrow he was examining and eyed the leaves grasped in her hand. "What did you find?" he asked. She looked up distractedly, his question snapping her out of her thoughts.
"Mint leaves. I found them growing at the base of a spruce tree a few miles further along the mountains," she explained.
"Ah! So you haven't lost your tongue!" exclaimed Gimli, causing both of them to look over in surprise. "I knew the elves were quiet but this is ridiculous."
"Well I'm sorry if my lack of speech has bothered you Master Dwarf. I know how your people like to fill every second of peace with your constant noise." Her eyes hardened as she took a seat on the soft earth. From across the fire, Gimli growled at her comment but did not offer a retort. Next to him, Frodo was looking over at Legolas curiously.
"Legolas, have you ever run out of arrows?" His eyes followed the fletching as the archer twirled it between his fingers.
"Not during any attack on Mirkwood. During a battle I would most likely have to scrounge more from the ground or bodies of the fallen. If I were desperate I could make some but it is time consuming," he said as he replaced the arrow in his quiver. Soon the sausages were done and they talked as they ate. Eredhel did not join them but simply sat to the side, listening to their conversations and chewing peppermint. When they had almost finished Gandalf informed them that they would start their climb up Caradhras the next morning. Knowing the following day would be tiresome, they turned in early. Even here in the shelter of the foothills the cold mountain wind was on them and they wrapped themselves tightly in their cloaks.
Eredhel lay on her back, contemplating whether or not to caution Legolas about what she had seen. Informing people of their futures could have disastrous consequences. It could cause them to alter their way of living or make rash decisions in order to prevent certain events from occurring. She was worried and her mind refused to let it go. Finally she gave in and rose quietly so as not to disturb any of the Fellowship. Legolas was on the watch and she found him looking towards the mountain, his eyes tracing its jagged outline. Eredhel stood next to him and began to drum her fingers against her knuckles, an action that did not go unnoticed by the other elf. "What is it that troubles you?" he asked quietly. The blue orbs turned towards her, searching for what was causing her unease.
"I simply have something to ask of you," Eredhel replied. His lips curled in amusement and he raised an eyebrow.
"And what would that be?"
"To be careful, once we are on the mountain." He frowned and she saw her request had confused him.
"Of all those in this company to be concerned about I should be the least of your worries. You know we do not sink beneath snow and changes in temperature have little power over us," said Legolas.
"Yes, but those are not the only dangers. Please Legolas just, just be especially careful." She pinched the bridge of her nose and gave an imperceptible shake of the head then turned away from him. He wanted to pull her back, ask her why she was so concerned but he didn't know what to say. He watched her go back to her place and sighed before turning his gaze back onto the mountains. There was something Eredhel wasn't telling him but he had no idea as to what it might be.
The trek up the rock incline was hard and tiresome. The air was cold and dry, chapping their lips and burning their eyes. When they reached the snow the going became especially slow. At times it would support their weight and at others they would take a step only to fall hip deep into the endless white ocean. The hobbits being the shortest had it especially hard and would occasionally have to be carried on Aragorn or Boromir's backs. The men's vigor was miraculous as they ploughed their way through the heavy drifts. Ahead of them, the Fellowship could see only blinding white, behind only rock and ice.
It was around midday when Aragorn and Eredhel were walking side by side behind the others and Frodo fell into the snow, coming tumbling towards them. Aragorn ran ahead and grabbed the hobbit around the torso, pulling him to his feet. Frodo shook himself and brushed snow from his hair and shoulders. He reached into his shirt and froze when his fingers found bare skin. He looked up at Aragorn and both of them started to search the ground around them but Eredhel knew they would not find it. Her attention were already on Boromir who was lifting the Ring up by its chain from where it fell, a strange glint in his eye. It was exactly as she had seen it and her hand automatically went to the knife sheathed at her waist. "Boromir," she said quietly, causing the others to look back in confusion. Aragorn's eyes widened as he saw the small golden circle glittering inches from the Captain's face.
"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt... over so small a thing. Wars have been waged and men have fallen to madness over such a little thing," Boromir was riveted, a look of pensive sadness in his eyes. He reached out a gloved hand to touch the Ring.
"Boromir!" warned Aragorn, his hand on the hilt of his sword. The shout snapped the man out of his trance. "Give the Ring to Frodo." Boromir cast a look around him, seeming to become aware of his surroundings. He trudged down the hill towards the hobbit with his hand extended in front of him.
"As you wish," he said and placed it in Frodo's hand. "It does not tempt me." He smiled and tousled Frodo's hair in an attempt to lighten the tension that had settled among the ten companions. It was only when he turned away that Aragorn's grip loosened on his weapon and Eredhel could see she was not the only one remained suspicious of the Captain's intentions. She caught Gandalf's eye and gave him a curt nod. One down, three to go.
The weather worsened as they continued their climb towards the jagged peaks of the mountain. Snow began to fall, lazily at first but soon whipping around them in gusts of wind. Their breath was white clouds escaping from between their lips and their eyes stung from the cold. It was early evening when a storm started to form. Giant grey clouds gathered overhead and the low rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. The frigid air penetrated their cloaks and sunk its claws into their very bones. Only Legolas and Eredhel were spared from the deadly cold and they were relied heavily upon to discern the path through the surrounding white abyss.
The wind howled and covered them all in a fresh wave of snow as they reached a narrow pass. Gandalf and the elves went first and the others followed them one by one. They slowly worked their way across the thin rock ledge, the wizard carving a path with his staff. Legolas ran ahead, his light footsteps making hardly any prints on the snow. He turned his head to the side and listened to the raging wind. Eredhel could also hear something above the violent roar, a voice, speaking as one with the storm. "An evil voice echoes in the air, it bids the mountain against us!" yelled the prince. Gandalf stopped and for a moment the blizzard seemed to lessen.
"Cuiva nwalca Carnirasse, nai yarvaxea rasselya, (Wake up cruel Redhorn, may your horn be bloodstained,)" the deep voice chanted.
"It's Saruman!" Gandalf cried. He moved in front of Legolas and pointed his staff towards the steely sky. Before he could counter Saruman's spell an ear splitting crash echoed through the air and giant boulders came down from the cliff above them. The Fellowship flattened their bodies against the rock wall to avoid the avalanche.
The ledge beneath seemed to shake as they were buried in ice and snow. Everyone struggled to dig themselves out and Eredhel was the first to emerge. She ran over to where Sam and Merry had been standing and began to claw at the snow, ignoring how the ice scraped her skin. Soon Aragorn was helping her and they managed to free the hobbits without too much trouble. By the time they finished the others had done likewise with Frodo and Pippin. The halflings stood shivering, their faces bright red from the cold. "It's not use!" shouted Gandalf as he brushed snow from his beard. "We cannot match the might of Saruman when he has the power of Sauron behind him!"
"We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the West Road to my city." Boromir suggested. Eredhel shared a look with Aragorn. The Ring could not be brought to a city of men, the temptation would be too great.
"That will take us far too close to Isengard," argued Aragorn.
"We would be walking past the fortress of our enemy," added Eredhel and Gandalf nodded.
"If we cannot pass over the mountain then let us go under it. We can go through the mines of Moria," came Gimli's gruff yell over the wind. Eredhel's heart sank at his words. Of course this was what Saruman had wanted all along, to force them to take the most dangerous route possible. She ran lightly over the snow towards the wizard who seemed to be sharing her thoughts. There was doubt in his eyes, fear of what unknown evil would await them in the ancient caves. She needed to speak to him without the others hearing.
"You know what dwells in the deepest and darkest places of the world," she said into his mind. His eyes filled with fear and he leaned heavily on his staff.
"We do not have many options. I know the caves are dangerous and for you especially, are to be avoided," Gandalf replied.
"It's not that, we would be playing right into Saruman's hands. Freely accepting the path he wants us to follow." Behind them the others were wondering what was going on, although the elf and wizard were looking directly at each other their lips did not move. Only Aragorn and Legolas seemed to know what was happening. Pippin was about to speak up but they hushed him and waited for the two to finish their debate.
"His arm has grown long. If we were to go through the mines we would be able to choose our route freely from the opposite side. It would also bring us out close to Lórien. Even so I dread what we may find deep below the earth," Indecision flickered over the old man's face.
"Allow Frodo to make the choice," she suggested. Gandalf thought for a moment and then turned to the rest of the Fellowship.
"We will let the Ringbearer decide," he declared grimly. Frodo shifted nervously under everyone's gaze and hesitated. The wind howled louder, bringing a fresh wave of snow.
"We cannot stay here! This will be the death of the hobbits!" shouted Boromir. He had his arms wrapped around Sam and Pippin, trying to shelter them from the cold.
Frodo looked up at the wizard, "We will go through the mines," he decided.
"So be it," said Gandalf. The way down the mountain was slow and it was near impossible to discern any of their surroundings. The wind cut them like knives and at one point they almost lost hope they would find their way back to the bottom. Eredhel and Legolas went with Gandalf now, their keener senses allowing them to lead the Fellowship through the storm. Eventually the wrath of Caradhras lessened and they no longer had to shout to be heard over the gale.
When they reached the foothills it was late evening and the sun was sinking beneath the mountains. They were far too hungry and tired to continue any farther. Quickly lighting a fire they made a larger than normal meal, allowing this small indulgence after their trial on the mountain. Everyone ate quickly and then grouped around the glowing embers to return some warmth to their limbs. The hobbits stared in to the fire with heavy eyes and rubbed their hands together. The two elves stood apart from the rest, their bodies not needing the extra heat.
"The road through Moria is dark and deep," said Legolas quietly. Elves especially hated small spaces and were uncomfortable in the caves of dwarves. Though his father's halls were built into rock, Legolas was fearful to enter the ancient caverns.
"Yes, I share your unease," agreed Eredhel. Though she was not overjoyed at the idea of traveling through the confined passages there was something else that bothered her. The only outward sign of her displeasure was her slightly tighter grip on her bow as she stared at the ground. They continued talking for a few moments before she said she had to speak with Gandalf and made her way between the others to the wizard. He was sitting with his chin propped against his hand, too tired to even blow his smoke rings.
"I have a small matter I must attend to," she spoke slowly, wondering how Gandalf would take her decision.
"I see." He was not surprised by her choice but was not eager to have her leave them while they were still so close to the mountains. "Must you go?"
"Yes," Eredhel replied. "I should only be a few hours and will return later in the night. You can manage without me I am sure."
"Very well, but be careful," he urged her. The elf gave him a sad smile and nodded her head. Without waiting for another word she turned and walked swiftly out of the firelight. Her departure was not noticed until several moments later when Aragorn went to speak with her and found that she was nowhere in sight.
"Where is Eredhel?" he asked suddenly, causing the others to look around them in surprise.
"She was here only moments ago," said Boromir.
"She had an errand among the mountains," explained Gandalf. Aragorn's mind reeled until he realized what Gandalf was talking about. It was only miles from their location where her mother had been waylaid by orcs when returning to Rivendell from Lothlórien. Legolas seemed to have reached a similar conclusion. Though he did not know the specifics of what had happened he knew it had been almost five hundred years since Celebrían had sailed across the sea. It had caused Eredhel much pain to see her mother waste away from the torture she had endured at the hands of the orcs.
The evening wore on slowly and although they were all weary sleep would not come. There was something stirring in the air and a feeling of unease settled over the Fellowship. Occasionally one of them would nod off only to wake suddenly a few moments later. It was deathly quiet, as if the world was waiting with baited breath for what was to come. Aragorn began to pace anxiously and occasionally glance off into the direction of Eredhel's destination. She had been gone for almost three hours when finally the silence was broken. A long, low howl sounded in the distance, making Merry and Pippin jump. Boromir, who had been asleep at the time, woke with a start and his hand flew to his sword. They all gathered in a circle around the fire, with Bill in the center. Their heads swung from side to side in hopes of locating where the howl had come from. "Wolf voices have joined the wind," said Legolas.
"Quick! Build up the fire!" ordered Gandalf. Gimli and Sam hastily started piling wood onto the embers, blowing on them to make the flames catch.
"Even without the fire those Wargs would have no trouble finding us," growled Boromir. "They can outrun us and we have nowhere to hide. What are we going to do?"
"We will stand our ground," replied Gandalf. "If they enter the light of the fire, kill them."
"Where in the world is Eredhel? If she comes across the pack she will have little hope on her own," Aragorn said gravely. He looked over at Legolas and saw a look of pain cross his face. The elf was imagining the same thing he was, their friend being torn apart by the savage wolves.
"All we can do it hope she will soon return to us," acknowledged Gandalf. "At the moment she is most likely far safer than we are." Another wolf howled, closer this time and soon it was joined by several others. For almost an hour there was nothing more than the howling and sound of feet pounding the ground until the Fellowship began to see their dark forms approaching. They raised their weapons in anticipation of battle. Yellow eyes gleamed out at them from the darkness. One particularly large warg stopped just short of their circle of light. He was a giant beast, his fur black and matted. Gandalf turned to face him and raised his staff menacingly.
"Listen, Hound of Sauron!" he cried, "Gandalf is here. If you value your skin you will fly from these hills. I will shrivel you from head to tail if you come within our circle of firelight." Another bone chilling howl rang through the air. The warg leapt from the ground with his jaws open, going straight for Gandalf's neck.