I got the feeling I need to say this again: If you don't like the way I handle my story, why are you still reading? No, seriously, if you don't like it, don't continue reading, and don't write completely asinine comments that not only take the fun for others to read, but also destroys my already abysmal motivation to continue writing.

So don't be an ass, if you don't like, don't read and don't nag.

For you others- here is another chapter.

It was a few days after the Council, time Elrond had given them to back out without any questions asked, but none did. So eight of them were in Elrond's study now, poring over maps as they tried to decide on which path to take.

"The Gap of Rohan would be too close to Isengard", Gandalf declared, "A risky choice, given that Saruman watches the lands."

"The path to Greenwood is likewise closed to us", Legolas added, "It was only by luck and desperation I managed to arrive here safely. Too many dark creatures roam the forests and the pass, emboldened by their Dark Lord's increasing power."

"We should head to Moria", Gimli announced, "Head through the Misty Mountains. My cousin Balin is the Lord there."

"What about the Redhorn Pass?" Boromir questioned.

Aragorn shook his head. "Moria I'd like to avoid if possible, and the Caradhras won't be passable by the time we arrive."
Alex stood a little way off, frowning at the map. The Ranger turned to him. "And what is your suggestion?"

His face twitched briefly, a left-over from preparing himself to run since he'd been spotted. He shook the instinct off. "From my gut feeling? I'd say take the shortest route, through Greenwood, and down to the Lake of Rhûn." The direct route, fastest to go even at their glacial pace. The main problem however was... He cleared his throat, "Tactical however it's a nightmare, because then Sauron will see us coming and prepare himself."

Alex was confident he could keep himself alive on that trip, but this didn't work all too well when he had others to look after- one was maybe manageable, but nine was a nightmare. It was a lesson he'd learned when he first tried to guard a military convoy- the missions had always been a success, but there had been too many people who died. He didn't want to lose these guys here.

Marching right towards Mordor like he did when approaching the Core Hive would turn into a FUBAR quick. Another way would be a lot better.

"But the Gap of Rohan would be the easiest route?" Frodo asked then, brows furrowed. "The fastest, too?"

Gandalf inclined his head. "It is."

"And", the Hobbit glanced at Alex, "Will you be able to keep us safe?"

"If you don't do something stupid like alerting the entire army of Mordor, sure."

Aragorn hummed. "The Gap of Rohan then. But we need to be careful, it could be crawling with enemies."

"Or none at all", Boromir argued, "Maybe Saruman will believe we would never come too close to his lands?"

Gandalf made a concerned face, but since Frodo declared that they should be using this route, he didn't argue any further.

Alex was Bored. Capital B Bored. Sure, he hadn't expected the group to set out immediately after they decided on a course to follow, but after two weeks had passed with no discernible effort into actually heading out was made he began getting... was anxious the right word?

He was feeling unwell, at any rate. Because anything he'd ever known was to finish a mission as fast as possible, before the enemy managed to gather even more strength.
Two weeks could make all the difference. Just ask Manhattan. So Alex had been ready to just drag Frodo out there and towards Mordor, screw the consequences.

But then he spotted the Hobbits, all four of them, in the courtyard, wielding sticks instead of swords under Aragorn's observation.

Get on the floor, private, and give me fifty!
Sir!

His brow ticked slightly when he shoved the memory back down. Whose it was, he couldn't really say- most of those he'd taken as his own were pretty similar in many aspects so telling them apart took an effort on his side (effort he rarely cared for, unless he needed to use those memories to disguise himself). He managed to catch Strider's eyes, and he moved towards him, expression apologetic. "You wish to leave towards Mordor, don't you?"

Alex didn't need to reply to that asides from scrunching up his nose. The Ranger grimaced. "I am aware that time is against us. But we can not leave like that. Not when leaving might mean certain death."

The Runner tilted his head, brows furrowing. "I am aware. It just..." He worked his jaw briefly. "My entire life is based on speed. Being fast. Ending a threat before it can become uncontrollable."

Aragorn nodded. "I agree. However in this instance- Sauron's been a threat for so long already. It won't matter if we need a while longer."

He didn't agree with that. But he also couldn't do anything about this. It wasn't like any of them were going to change their minds at the drop of a hat, and the Hobbits likely tried to stall as long as possible to avoid having to start their journey.
So he left them to their own devises, aware that he could help them in their training and also aware that the US army training was hardly the way to go.

Finding something else to do proved itself to be way harder than he expected however. He got it into his head that trying to learn Elvish from scratch might provide him with the needed distraction and would hold his attention until this Fellowship would finally set sails.

It didn't.

Alex needed roughly five hours to crack the code of the written language and another hour to become fluent. But then he actually attempted to read through the vast collection of Lord Elrond's library, and quickly decided that no, this was not the way to try and distract himself. Because the Elvish literature was a curious mixture between bone-dry and overloaded with metaphors and prose, making even the historic texts barely tolerable to read.

Lord knows he tried to, but after the first day of struggling through the library, he just couldn't deal with it any longer. He knew how to pick his battles, and this wasn't one he'd fight through.
(He suspected Gandalf knew, because of the knowing grin the Wizard threw in his direction when Alex fled the library faster than he did a fully-staffed Blackwatch base on high alert)

It put him back to trying to figure out what to do before he started crawling up walls in his boredom. He briefly visited the blacksmiths, but the heat from the fires- too much like a tank shell to the face- and the fact that he wasn't interested in bows or swords meant he quickly left and began to wander around Imlandris.

Eventually, he found his way back to the abandoned storage room he'd picked when he first looked for a place to stay, noticing the faint smell of someone being there.
He also knew that scent, and exhaled in confusion. He'd never seen her being anywhere near this derelict construction.

Without much fanfare he approached the door- she'd know he was there, all of them were aware of his presence- and easily slid inside the dusty storeroom, crossing his arms as he went to lean against the door frame. "Thought this place would be beneath you" Princess, he didn't say. Seemed a bit too aggressive, and he didn't want to piss her off.

Arwen merely looked up from the book in her lap, and smiled at him a small and rueful smile. "As long I can avoid Glorfindel, I'll go where he won't think to look."

Alex cocked an eyebrow. Glorfindel, that was one of the Elves present at the Council. One of the few who did not lower themselves to join the kindergarten squabble as the others had. He was also one of the big shots in that Council, one of the few who had a greater influence than even Elrond. The question was why Arwen was avoiding him.
She must have sensed his question, because she grimaced. "I may have stolen his horse to ride out to meet you", she explained, "Because, well..."

"You were curious, and bored here", Alex pointed out. He shrugged. "I get it. No harm done there." Plus, he'd always been more reluctant to consume women than men, so Arwen had had a better chance at surviving his hunger. (And she meant something to Strider, and Strider was something of a fixture in Alex's eyes)

(He figured she wouldn't appreciate hearing that part)

She sighed. "Now I'm afraid what he'll do in return. Logically I know he won't do anything, he's much too wise for this, but still", she shrugged, "I'll stay out of his sight."

Alex literally couldn't care less about that. He didn't reply, because really, what could he say? The Elf blinked at his silence, eyes widening. "Ah, I'm sorry, I didn't even apologize for intruding into your domains-"

"It's not mine. I just like the solitude", the Runner cut her off, "I'm not someone who enjoys being around crowds for so long." That was a lie, he was made for being close to people. Because he was a Biological Weapon, and he knew that. So he always tried to stay as far away from crowds as possible so the urge to take remained manageable. (he figured this was also something he shouldn't tell any of them)

Arwen frowned, looking around again. "But this place...you can barely sit, let alone sleep. Is this really comfortable for you?"

Alex shrugged. "Don't need much comfort. Staying away from the crowds is enough for me." (it wasn't. He wanted more, needed more, needed his little sister here with him)

"It's not", Arwen replied, eyes sharp as she took in his posture. "You merely pretend it is." She shut her book, focus entirely on the Runner. "Ever since you arrived here, you were uncomfortable. Not because you feel threatened by us as any other Wraith would be, but because you are...restless."

He snorted amused. Restless was one way to describe it, jittery was another. Alex was simply going stir-crazy from the lack of opposition. Hell, at this point he'd happily take a tussle with a bunch of Supersoldiers inside a cloud of Bloodtox.
He shook his head to dislodge those thoughts. "Is it that obvious?"

"You are not used to be idle", Arwen replied in lieu of an answer.

Alex shrugged. "Not used to be idle for longer than a few hours", he corrected. Then, after a brief pause, he added, "I need something to do. Something that involves running, or fighting." Drowning out the voices demanding him to infect through battle was the only way he knew of that actually silenced them. (reading the texts also worked, but mostly because his mind was beginning to go numb, not something he was keen to experience again)

Arwen furrowed her brows. "It won't be for another few weeks until Estel will see this Fellowship ready to go." She hummed, and turned to the Runner. "Why don't you go and talk to my father? I'm sure our border patrols would benefit from a person of your abilities."

Patrol duty? Alex was familiar with this, had done a few even himself. And, while he was certainly lacking anything even resembling a challenge, it would give him the possibility to employ his abilities a little bit.
He tilted his head, "Then I guess I know what I'm going to do."

Guard Patrol was, as Alex discovered, not really exciting. The entire time he spend circling Elrond's lands he only encountered one Orc scouting troop that were supposed to be erased with extreme prejudice. Sadly, there had been way too many Elves around for him to just cut loose and consume them all, so he restrained himself to his claws and the swords he'd stolen from his prey. (he hadn't even consumed any of them, and still these Elves gave him a wide berth upon his return)

Still he felt more calm than he did waiting around for something to happen. The reason was simple: He spent most of this time just moving. Running along the borders, exploring the area. It reminded him of the past, when he did so to familiarize himself with Manhattan- climbing the tallest buildings, discovering little hidden places no-one else would ever see, seeing the city from a completely different angle. Testing his own skills just for shits and giggles.

It had entertained him long enough, but even the ever-changing canopy of the forest became boring at some point. His restlessness only increased the closer they came to the day Gandalf said was their date of departure, so the last week he spent in a state of nervous excitement.

Logically, he knew this journey was going to be excruciatingly slow. They were going to be stuck on each other for however long this is going to take. But he was just so fucking relieved that they were finally going to leave Rivendell, because even though Elrond and all the Elves promised to not harm him, he still couldn't fight the shiver that ran down his back every time they so much as looked sharply into his direction. He knew they wouldn't be able to harm him, but the whole walking-on-eggshells-thing was starting to get him agitated.
He knew that there would be no real consequences for him, but he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. (he had never been good with people watching him. He didn't know whether it was something left over from the original Mercer, or from Greene)

Leaving meant less people, even if he wasn't going to do much more than just walk. And anyways, new sights. A small part of him was excited to see something else than just trees and a few cliffs- though strictly speaking, endless plains of grass and hills and craggy boulders weren't exactly the most interesting things to look at, but at least there was a higher chance of encountering any sort of opposition.

And if he stayed close to the Ring, there was a good chance he was going to get the violence he craved-

He stopped abruptly and slumped against the closest wall with a weary sigh.

All of this, it was just him ignoring the problem. He wanted- needed to go home, because it was already December the 24th. Christmas Eve. 104 Days since he came here. Three months.

And still he hadn't moved a single finger to actually do something to get back home.

More even, he'd volunteered himself to be stuck in this place for an unknown amount of time.
It was a mistake, he realized because distracting himself only worked for so long before he was going to snap. He could feel it approaching, wondered if this was what Greene felt when she realized she had been locked up with no way to escape.

"Alex. Don't you fucking dare hurt any of these people."

He jerked back, his body spinning to find the source of the voice- because it had been her.

Dana

Alex was alone in the hallway.

But- he'd heard her. Clear as the day. Yet she wasn't here-

Oh.

He stared for another moment, before slumping against the closest wall with an exhausted snort. "Of course", he groaned, "I'm going insane." He couldn't say he was very surprised by this. He'd always suspected his sanity would go eventually. It had done so for Greene.

"Hard times find all of us eventually", a voice said and Alex managed to suppress the urge to sprout claws, only warily lifting his head to glare at whoever managed to sneak up on him. It was the wizard.
He was looking somewhat concerned, but in a grandfather-like way at him (he should know, he had thousands of memories of grandparents). He inclined his head. "Why don't you tell me why I found you unaware of your surrounding, more defeated than you'd been after taking on the Nine by yourself?"

Alex glared at him. Considered lying through his teeth. Figured it wasn't worth the effort of trying to come up with a narrative. He sighed, ran his hand through his hair under his hood. "Rivendell is too silent", he said simply, as if it would explain everything.

Apparently, it didn't explain enough for Gandalf. Or he wanted confirmation. "Too silent?"

"Too silent. Too-", he grasped for words, "-Too peaceful. It puts me on edge."

Gandalf arched one eyebrow. "Not used to quiet?"

Alex snorted. "No. My first memories are of people shooting me, and it's only gotten worse after that. Spent the time between waking up there and ending up here in pretty much the same way." He'd been blown up, ripped to pieces, bitten, clawed, thoroughly ventilated, electrocuted, stuck with a parasite,...the list went on and on. He spread his arms slightly. "I guess you can see that I can't really deal when there is absolutely nobody who wants to kill or even hurt me. It is unsettling for me."

The Wizard nodded. "I can see that. And I weep for you, for no man should live the way you did."

Alex blinked in surprise. Nobody had ever told him this to his face. Not. A. Single. Person.
It made him wonder just how things would have looked if Gentek had actually had the intention of helping people. Would they have helped him?

"Yet you still want to go back?" Gandalf's voice pulled him back. Alex frowned like the question actually offended him. "I need to. My sister was hurt. And my enemies- they would take her to bait me." But it was already 104 days. Realistically, did he have a chance at finding her if Blackwatch had gotten to her?

The answer to this question was a resounding yes. Because Alex would gladly march straight into a trap if it meant getting her back.

The Wizard was obviously satisfied with his answer. "I spoke to Aragorn. We will, as soon we passed the Misty Mountains, make for Lórien to find the Lady Galadriel on your behalf. She will have insight that is hidden even from my eyes. She will know the reason why you came to Middle-Earth. She will also know how you can return." He gestured to Alex. "Meanwhile, I ask of you to not forget the promise you made. You are to protect the Ring and the one who carries it until this Evil has been destroyed." The 'despite what we'll learn' was clearly audible, even without being said out loud.

Alex inclined his head, weighing his options. It wouldn't be too hard to give these guys the slip. On the other hand doing so would just be rude, especially since he promised. He thought of Dana, and he thought of the people he knew for far longer now, and he grit his teeth. Nobody could replace her.

But he promised.

His nod to Gandalf's request was half-hearted. "I will see it through."

It was the early morning of the 25th of December. The air was fresh, but not overly cold. Leaves were rustling in the wind, and if Alex didn't know the date was mid-winter, he'd have assumed it was early autumn- with the golden sunlight and leaves still on the branches and the gentle breeze and all.

It still didn't seem real, even after more than three months. Alex was still half-expecting to be yanked from his daydream to wake up inside a containment cell while being poked by guys in hazmat suits.

Thing was...this was real. He was here in Middle-Earth, far away from Manhattan and Blackwatch. He was as safe as it was possible.

(He wasn't sure whether he liked being safe)

He let his gaze wander over the collected 'Fellowship' as they called it. Aragorn and Gandalf were looking at Elrond and the gathered Elves expectantly. The Hobbits were glancing around with the sort of nervous energy that he usually only saw in college students on their fifth cup of coffee. Legolas and Boromir were still giving him suspicious side-eyes, even as they crowded close to Frodo and him by proxy.
Gimli was the only one who didn't give a flying fuck. Alex decided the Dwarf was his favorite of the entire group.

Elrond was giving his farewells to the group, reminding them of the urgency of the mission as well as telling them they were allowed to leave at any time if they thought things were getting too much. None of them looked like they were ever going to make use of this concession.

Frodo took the lead uncertainly, slowly walking away from the crowd of Elves. The Fellowship followed after him.

Alex felt like something had stopped squeezing his ribcage. There was no more scrutiny, no more stagnation. And sure, it was just walking, but at least it was walking through territory he didn't know yet.

It took the Fellowship around two and a half days to leave the forests of Rivendell behind and head into less dense woodland, which eventually turned into open plains and into hills.

At the evening of the fifth day, they hit the foothills of the Misty Mountains. The sun was already setting, and the air changed from crisp to frigid. Aragorn pulled Alex along to go look for firewood- there weren't many trees around, but all sorts of shrubbery, and enough of them had lost branches that could be simply picked up. (Legolas would complain if they dragged in fresh cuts)
It was simple work and nothing he found overly taxing, not with his strength, yet Alex was continuing to grumble under his breath. Strider glanced at him, brows furrowing. "Not exciting enough for you?"

The Runner glared at him, then huffed out and turned back to his collection of sticks. "Too cold", he replied bitterly.

The other moved his jaw, several expressions running over his face for a few moments until he found his voice again. "Is that why you always stay close to the fire?"

"Yeah. Can't stand the cold." This was a thing he discovered not too long ago since it hadn't been less than fifty degrees in Manhattan- temperatures around freezing were unpleasant however. Sure, Alex had a much higher body temperature so he didn't get cold too much, but that was also at the cost of the Biomass he had- if he had to heat himself more, then he burned faster through his reserves. He figured that at this rate he had another week, maybe two, before he would need to feed again. Hopefully they would enter more inhabited areas by then, because asides from some birds and rabbits, he hadn't seen anything that would sate his hunger if things took a turn for the worse. (and no, he was not going to target Bill. That pony was about the only animal that tolerated his presence)

Aragorn hummed, and turned back to his bundle of sticks. "Well, then you can take care the fire won't burn down." He heaved the wood on his back, grinning. "Come now. I'm starving, and I'd like to know what Sam decided to feed us with tonight."

Alex just shook his head and followed after him with his own pack of kindling. They arrived at the campsite just in time to hear Gandalf's voice. "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 heads east to Mordor."

They set out before the sun had risen the next day, and the day after that, and the one after that. They hit the region called Eregion- Hollin- soon, which was about halfway to the Gap of Rohan. Somehow, the area was even emptier than the hills they climbed the entire time. Asides from the occasional holly tree and lots and lots of shrubbery, there was very little of notice.

The only interesting things Alex saw were the few scattered ruins. Elven ruins, Gandalf explained, of the once great Kingdom of the Master smith Celebrimbor, who made the Rings of Power. Razed to the ground when the Dark Lord first rose to power.

Guess Assholes were an universal constant, then. It was good to know some things didn't change, even if it were Gods and Spirits fighting Elves, not humans fighting humans (Alex figured latter was worse. Because humans should recognize their own kin, shouldn't they)

It was the eight of January when the group came to a halt on a ridge overlooking the surrounding area to rest and eat lunch. Sam was in charge of cooking, Legolas was watching the area, Frodo and Gandalf were discussing the next steps, while the rest was watching Boromir instructing Merry and Pippin on sword fighting.

He was currently swinging his sword at a slow pace so Pippin could learn how to parry them.

Alex watched them from his perch next to Aragorn while the man gave a few advices to Pippin's footwork. The Runner himself wasn't terribly interested in the entire training session- he never understood the need for fighting by rules. He certainly never did- his style was quick and brutal- because the longer he was fighting, the more likely it became that someone would call in reinforcements. The more likely it was something would sneak up on him and attack him from behind.
So he had learned how to dispatch of his enemies in the fastest way possible, making sure they would never get up again.

He turned his attention to the others. Gimli was speaking to Gandalf, pleading him to take the route to Moria- it was the shortest route now, Alex knew, but Gandalf gave a negative reply. He was afraid of something that had to do with Moria, so he wasn't going to budge unless absolutely necessary.
Legolas was watching the sky with furrowed brows. So intently that it would be easy to sneak up on him and startle him. But that would be childish, and Alex had no need to scare the Elf any more than his simple presence already did.

A sudden cry of pain drew his attention and he turned just in time to see Boromir drop his sword and hurry to Pippin, who was flapping his hand. Likely got hit with the edge of the sword, or something. Probably just painful, but without any broken skin.

Then Pippin gave a war cry, closely followed by Merry, and both lunged themselves at the man to tackle him to the ground. Boromir's surprised laughter was only partially drowned out by their cries. Strider was chuckling, put away his pipe and sauntered over to them to pry the Hobbits off the other man.
He didn't expect the two of them to swing around and yank his feet out from under him to send him flailing on his ass in a tangle of limbs.

Alex tilted his head as he watched them wrestle on the ground. He remembered mock-fighting siblings like that. Not with Dana, because he didn't remember their own past, but of the others he'd taken.
For a moment, his mouth tasted bitter. He knew what he'd done, tearing them away from their families like that. He knew it with every part of his being, because they now were part of his being as much as Mercer was.

The alternative would have been completely out of the question, however.

He'd dealt with the consequences back then. He can deal with them now. Has to, because otherwise he'll go mad.

Sam's voice startled him a little, and in his opinion the simple question "What is that?" was never a good sign.
His head snapped around to witness a cloud closing in on them, only half-way hearing Gimli's dismissal that it was just a cloud.

"It's moving fast", Boromir realized, voice still a bit breathless from his previous wrestling match, "And against the wind?"

Alex furrowed his brows. "Also, clouds don't make flapping noises. Or caw." He would have dismissed the entire thing as just a swarm of birds if not for Legolas' startled intake of breath. "Crebain from Dunland!"

Aragorn's voice was panicked. "Hide!"

Nobody questioned it. The Fellowship instantly scrambled to their feet, rushing around. The pony was hidden below an overhanging boulder, the fire extinguished and dirt kicked over its remains, gear and tools dragged out of sight, and everybody dove under the bushes and rocks.

The cawing was deafening now, became even worse when a giant swarm of crows rushed through the empty air just overhead of them. It took several minutes until the swarm passed by, and they still waited another few minutes before they carefully peeked out, watching the birds circle back to the south and disappear behind another hill.

Gandalf's face was ashen. "Spies of Saruman", he muttered. Then his voice picked up, "The path to the South is being watched." He turned to eye the mountain towering high above them. "We have no other choice. We must take the Pass of the Caradhras."

The others glanced at each other nervously. Alex squinted at the mountain, feeling his tendrils skitter beneath his skin. "And you think this is a good idea? To climb over a mountain in the middle of winter?"

Figures neither of them thought it was a good idea, but it was all they had. Gimli complained that they should be taking the path through Moria, but Gandalf was even less enthused about that option than he was about the mountain.

Alex, for his part, would have gladly picked the route through Moria. Or, Hell, head back to the Gap of Rohan and slaughter his way through whatever armies Saruman had. Because he regretted the pass across the mountain from the first second the temperatures hit below twenty degrees.
Blacklight didn't deal well with temperatures below freezing. Not. At. All.

He was sluggish, constantly tired, and they had barely begun their ascent. He knew that if this continued, he'd probably slump over somewhere- somewhen- and stay there until the weather would be warmer. And he couldn't do that to Strider- he'd promised- nor to Dana, because it would mean delaying his return further.

That thought was all he needed to get his shit together.

First things first- his surface was the biggest problem. He couldn't just change his appearance, because all of it was him (he thought with a snort that he was basically standing naked in the snow. Only he didn't look the part). Meaning, getting an actual cloak to wear wouldn't really help.
So, he needed something else to cover himself with, and his Armor should be well suited for this situation. At least, it was greatly muted in its sensations and wasn't as permeable as his normal surface- a fact he learned when trying out his Armor against Bloodtox. Sure, his shell had gotten brittle, but it hadn't peeled off the way his skin had.

The Armor alone would soften the way the icy winds tore at him, but it didn't offer any insulation. So instead of putting his faith in just one way to keep the cold off him, Alex figured he'd use a combination of several: A layer of air beneath the shell, followed by a layer designed to resemble fatty tissue, followed by some heat exchangers like a great many of water birds have. It would hopefully be enough to keep his insides nice and warm. If all else failed, he could try and assume the shape of an animal- Bill wasn't even half as much affected as any of the others.
He'd try it with just the Armor first though, because he didn't know whether he actually could turn into an animal, or whether Blacklight was streamlined to be human. Besides, the lack of eyes on his faceplate would also effectively stop the snow from constantly blinding him.

The entire process of adapting the changes and transforming took less than a heartbeat, and when Alex stepped forwards, the crunch his plated foot made as it compressed the frozen ground beneath was impossible loud. The Fellowship jumped, more or less whirling in place.
He could understand their startled intakes of breath- out of all of them, only Strider and Frodo had seen him in his Armor. And bright daylight or not, he knew it was anything but pleasant to look at- its appearance had been subconsciously influenced by his idea of intimidating his enemies, after all.

But it felt so good to no longer be cold. He pushed past the group, plowing through the snow like it wasn't even there, only to stop a few paces away from them to glance over his shoulder. "Now what? You coming along, or not?"

It took them longer to find their feet, and they only followed after him because Aragorn and Gandalf were the first to move.
As it was, their pace quickened somewhat, because most of them used the trench Alex plowed into the snow. Still, some of them preferred to make their own way (Legolas, mostly, because he could walk on top of the snow), while others just fanned out if the weather and terrain permitted it. Which wasn't too bad, that way they would maybe cut the time they needed to get off this blasted mountain in half.

They spent the night under a rocky overhang, huddled close to the small fire they were permitted to make with the little wood they had left. Alex, for the first time since the nights had gotten cold, wasn't close to the flames. His insulated armor had worked very well- exceeding his expectations by a wide margin- to the point that the snow that clung to the groves and depressions of his armor showed no signs of melting at all. Hell, he even removed some of the insulation and thinned the shell in other places to allow his body to cool down- he was highly heat resistant unlike most other living beings, but that didn't meant he enjoyed the feeling of being cooked alive.
It was exhausting, however. The Armor was too restricted in its mobility, too numbed in its senses. It had never been meant for long-term deploy.

It certainly didn't help that Alex felt trapped inside his own shell. Blinded and deafened, incapable of moving the way he wanted to. It was a little bit like the Parasite all over again, only this time it was of his own making.

He didn't particularly enjoy the reminder of the weapon Blackwatch- and Karen- developed to hurt him. Maybe that was why he was feeling so jittery at the moment. He kept remembering the time he'd been so weak he'd collapsed over and over again, remembered that he'd been more vulnerable than any moment before or after.

He groaned and ran his hand down his faceplate, muttering "We better get off this rock soon."

"If the weather permits", a voice spoke up besides him, "Then we should have crossed the Caradhras come tomorrow evening. Then another two days to leave the Misty Mountains behind."

Alex slowly turned his head into the other's direction. Dry voice. Tall. The white-hot glow of a pipe that should be smelling of smoke and smelled of nothing. The Wizard then.

"I don't like this", he growled and turned back to observe the surrounding area in the dark. "It's..." He trailed off. It was too easy in his opinion- the birds had to have meant something was going on. "I don't like being caught unaware", he decided on. "And right now I've got the feeling we are being watched."

"I agree with you", Gandalf agreed. "Which is why it is imperative we pass the Caradhras as fast as possible."

Alex heard the crunch of snow before the old man did, and he tilted his head when one of the Hobbits approached. This one smelled like sausages, and his infrared silhouette was wider than the other three. "Samwise", Gandalf's voice was gentle. "I believed you would be asleep already."

"Can't sleep", the Hobbit replied, "Too cold, actually. Also, I'm worried for Mr. Frodo." He turned to face the Runner, crossing his arms. Alex figured he was frowning because the tone of his voice shifted. "He also told me you were fast."

"I am" he inclined his head, waiting for Sam to continue.

The Hobbit swallowed once, and set his shoulders. "Then I wonder why we are still on this mountain and not already across it."

Ah, so that was his problem. Alex hummed, his shell probably made it sound like a ghastly shriek. "I see", he said simply. Then turned to face Sam fully. "That one thought already occurred to me at the first night up this blasted mountain. I was sorely tempted to do just that, cut this whole trek by some time. There are however a few good reasons I haven't done anything yet." He lifted one finger. "One. Tell me, is it snowing?"

The Hobbit turned to stare at the night, then faced him again. "It is", he replied bewildered.

"As I thought", Alex muttered, then shook his head. "Okay, so I know you have barely any experience with winter, with your climate being more warm, but up here, in the mountains, snow means danger." He waited for a moment, checking in on Gandalf who was slowly nodding along. Likely with a tense expression on his face. "Fresh fallen snow increases the chance of avalanches. Those are giant slabs of ice and snow that race towards the foot of the mountains and erase whatever is in their way. And they are more like rock than actual snow, they are capable of crushing buildings with ease." He threw his arms out to indicate the surrounding area as well as his own Armor. "And me- if I start moving fast, I will cause an avalanche or more of them. And while I will survive it, you can't."

Sam made a noise, but Alex shushed him. "Second. In this area, I can only ever carry one of you with me if I intend to arrive safely. But even at the speed I'm going, it'll take several hours to navigate this terrain. So at one point, one of you will remain alone, in enemy territory."

He unfurled a third finger, cutting Sam off again. "Third. I don't know if you noticed, but I don't have any eyes currently. I can navigate just fine, but I won't be able to spot a damn glacial crevice in time. And I rather not drop into one of those. Might not be survivable for whoever I'm lugging around." Not to mention his dignity would be very much dead then too.

Gandalf cleared his throat. "He is right. We cannot rush this part of the journey, for the terrain is treacherous."

Alex still wondered why the wizard didn't want to go through Moria- if what Gimli said was true, then the place should be safe haven.

Sam nodded slowly, shuffling his feet and walked back to the camp.
Gandalf's form was angled in a way that indicated he was watching him go, before he turned to the Runner. "Tomorrow we will encounter the hardest part of the pass", he said while clasping a wrinkly hand on his shoulder, "Keep an eye on the others."

The weather had cleared during the night, so when the Fellowship set out the sky was blue and the sun was shining. On one hand, it meant their trek would go faster, on the other it also meant that the white snow was more blinding than normally. Aragorn found himself squinting at the glare more than he wanted to as he trudged along the path Alex had dug simply by walking in the very front of them, closely followed by Gandalf, who told him the directions. Legolas was the only of them who regularly moved to the front to scout the area, but that was mostly because his Elven body allowed him to nimbly move on top of the snow instead of having to plow through it like the rest of them.

It didn't mean that the way was easy, however. The floor was still slippery, the half-crushed snow beneath still sapping their strength more than solid floor did. The Ranger was bringing up the rear, keeping an eye out for the group.

Then Frodo stumbled and fell, rolling back down the slope they just climbed. Aragorn ducked down and stopped his descent with a quick hand to his back, and the Hobbit climbed to his feet as fast as he could. Just, as he patted down his clothes to free them from the clinging snow, he froze suddenly.

Only to paw at his chest in rising panic.

The Ring was gone.

In an instant, both of their heads snapped up to find the spot Frodo just fell in, seeing the Ring glisten in the sunlight. And Boromir picking it up.
Frodo's breathing hitched while Aragorn felt his blood run cold. Out of all of them, his fellow Man was the one who coveted the Ring the most. He wet his lips and worked his throat. "Boromir" meant to be a warning. A plea. Anything.

The other Man didn't seem to notice. He was watching the Ring as it dangled from its chain in his hand. The remaining Fellowship had stopped the moment Frodo had lost his footing and were watching the scene intently. Even from where he was standing Aragorn could see Legolas' fingers twitching, and Alex's hands curling up.

But they weren't important- he turned his attention to Boromir, whose expression turned wistful. "It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt", he whispered, "Over so small a thing. Such a little thing." He seemed to be in trance as he watched the Ring, slowly reaching out his hand to touch it, but Aragorn's barked "Boromir!" snapped him back to reality. He could see the fogginess leave his eyes, and the other man blinked as if he didn't know where he was.

The Ranger tilted his head towards the Hobbit. "Give the Ring to Frodo", he ordered.

The Gondorian blinked again, and slowly approached the two of them. "As you wish", he muttered and held out the Ring. Frodo snatched it back and Boromir backed off, attempting to smile though it was more of a grimace. "I care not for it." He even ruffled Frodo's hair to try and appear like he'd been joking, before he turned and hastily returned to his place within the Fellowship.

Aragorn's fingers loosened from the hilt of his sword and he let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding. "You'll better stay close to me", he mumbled.

The Hobbit swallowed and nodded while placing the chain back around his neck.

After noon, the weather took a turn for the worse. The sky darkened and the wind picked up into a storm, whipping snowflakes like tiny daggers made of ice into their faces. To make matters worse, they had reached the most dangerous part of the pass, a narrow ledge that was boxed in by steep cliffs. Alex was still moving in the front, both on the account of being the one to clear a path and that he, in his own words, wouldn't die from something as simple as falling off the mountain.

Legolas, however, had taken to staying close to the other man, in order to warn him before he could actually fall off the mountain. The icy weather was affecting the Hobbits now, as their smaller bodies and shoeless feet made them lose body heat faster than any of the others. Aragorn was carrying both Frodo and Sam, while Boromir did so with Merry and Pippin. Gimli was tasked with leading Bill, despite his dislike for horses.

Then Alex suddenly stopped, armored head tilted to the side. Legolas was next to him a moment later, equally tilting his head and staring into the blizzard.

He hissed a moment later, backing away a step. "There is a fell voice on the air", he pointed out with a voice that indicated his discomfort.

Gandalf made a noise and pushed his way past Alex. His face was pale beneath the snow clinging to his eyebrows and beard. "It's Saruman!" He realized, seconds before a singular lightning bolt hit the cliff above them and sent several large boulders hurling towards them. Alex was moving before any of them could react, leaping off the ledge and bodily colliding with the largest rock in a cacophony of cracking stone and shattering armor, forcing the boulder to fall into the chasm below and away from the Fellowship. He hit the cliff side just below the ledge, digging his claws into the smooth rock to climb back up towards them.

Aragorn's heart was thudding inside his chest, his entire frame shaking. The howling winds forced him to raise his voice. "He's trying to bring down the mountain!" He shouted at the old man, "Gandalf! We must turn back!"

The Wizard shook his head with a barely hidden fear- he had vehemently voiced against going through Moria, for reasons known only to him. "No!" He shouted back, then raised his voice to try and implore the mountain to calm itself and let them pass.

But Saruman's voice was stronger.

The storm around them picked up and lightning struck the mountain again and again and again. Giant boulders and massive slabs of ice broke loose, hurling towards them.
Alex swore and vaulted back on the ledge to lunge over to Gimli and Bill, his arms flaring out into a pair of shields to protect them. At the same time Legolas grabbed Gandalf and pulled him against the wall on their backs. Aragorn and Boromir both jumped towards the wall themselves, turning to shield the Hobbits as best as they could.

The boulders missed them, but some of the snow still buried them. They were lucky- the fall loosened the slab's cohesion to the point it was more like a soft blanket, and not a heavy clump of ice, but it was still unpleasant. Because now he was blind and deaf, the ice covering them. Aragorn exhaled and pushed his back straight to break through the cover. Boromir was already digging himself and the Hobbits free, just as Legolas and Gandalf did.
Black speared through the snow at their back when Alex shoved the snow off himself to dig out Gimli and the pony. (Bill snorted and neighed in displeasure, but remained calm otherwise)

"We must get off this mountain!" Boromir shouted over the howling wind with snow clinging to his beard and hair. "Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!"

Aragorn agreed internally, city sounded nice. Even if it was Minas Tirith. But the main problem was- "The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" He yelled back.

"Yeah? I don't really give a shit about that now", Alex cut in, voice icy like the air, "Asshole threw a mountain on us. I say I deserve going there and throw one on him, see how he likes it."

Aragorn blinked, wondering whether that was just anger speaking. He cleared his throat. "The way to the Gap of Rohan would take another thirty days at least."

Gimli snorted. "If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it", he declared, "Let us go through the mines of Moria!"

Aragorn was close enough to Gandalf to see his body freeze. His eyes were wide with fear- he knew something about Moria that scared him. He didn't know what the reason could be, and Gimli had claimed that his cousin was the Lord of Moria- it would only be helpful if they were to find themselves in ally territory.

Gandalf was staring at them, but not really seeing them. A muscle in his jaw ticked. "Let the Ring-Bearer decide", he finally bit out.

The wind picked up again. Boromir's voice rose. "We need to decide now! But we cannot stay here! This will be the death of the Hobbits!"

Frodo was shaking from the cold too, trying to squirm closer to Aragorn. Gandalf turned to him. "What will you decide then, Frodo?"

The Hobbit swallowed once. "We will go through the mines."

The Wizard closed his eyes briefly, an expression of pain on his face. "So it will be, then."

These Travel Scenes are the second-hardest to write, right after conversations.