Protect & Serve LotR-Lord of the Rings Fanfiction - Fan Fiction -WattyAwards2012

Chapter 8: Friends Will Be Friends

Boromir's fur lined cloak was a godsend. It was long of course, nearly sweeping the ground at my height, and quite often dragging in the snow. But I was able to wrap it securely around myself, raise the hood, and mostly block the biting wind out.

I'd told the others, and desperately hoped that I was right in thinking that once the Fellowship started back down the mountain, Saruman's focus would follow them, and the snow would let up. I was right, the snow did stop, but of course, I was also still climbing up a mountain pass. The wind was bitter and the air started getting noticeably thinner.

My feet were beyond numb. My Nike running shoes were great for chasing down perps, but right now, I'd trade anything for thermal hiking boots and a pair of snowshoes. Or just the snowshoes. Hell, even a pair of wool socks would be heaven.

I wanted to push myself. To go as fast as my feet could wade through the snow, but I knew better. I knew if I pushed myself too hard and started sweating, I'd risk getting frostbite. I could handle my toes getting cold and even numb. It was better than having to lose a few of them.

When I finally stopped to build a fire, even my fingers were nearly too numb to work my lighter. But I was extremely grateful for having gathered as much wood as I had. I could only hope it would be enough to get me through.

Once I did get a fire started, I shoved my fingers under my shirt and under my arms. I'd already scooped the snow out to create a shelter and shield my burgeoning fire. Now I huddled in my makeshift shelter and waited for feeling to return to my fingers.

It had been a long time since I'd pushed myself against the elements like this. It was somehow exhilarating. Even if it meant pushing myself to limits I hadn't stretched in a while.

Yet, at the same time, I felt guilty. It was more than just fear of being stuck in a cave again. Though, that was a huge part of it. It was mostly because I didn't want to have to actually see Gandalf fall. Or to have to look the others in the face in their moment of grief and not tell them that everything would be fine. That Gandalf would come back.

It was cowardly of me. I was too much of a coward to face them and keep quiet, so instead, I avoid it altogether. And hated myself for my cowardice.

*************

It was several long days before I had finally peaked the summit of the mountain and then descended far enough to reach an elevation low enough to be out of the snow.

I'd forgotten how easy it was to lose track of the days and nights when you were concentrating solely on trying to stay warm and survive. Day or night ceased to matter, as did mealtime. I stopped occasionally to rest and warm up, and chewed slowly on the various kinds of dried fruits, veggies, meats, and nuts that were in the pack Aragorn had given me.

There hadn't been enough food to spare for filling rations, but I'd had to survive on worse than meager amounts of glorified trail mix before.

Soon after I'd gotten out of the snow, I was able to increase my pace and make good time down the mountain. After another day's hike, I was down to the valley floor. A small creek ran nearby, and cold or not, I was taking the opportunity to get clean and wash my clothes.

Wood was once again abundant, so I built a fire large enough to dry my clothes once I was done splashing in the creek and scrubbing my clothes. They'd certainly looked better, but for now, they were all I had.

I felt exposed sitting in only Boromir's cloak, but I knew there was nobody nearby for at least a half mile, which was about as far as I'd ever been able to reliably stretch my telepathy. And feeling a little exposed was worth it to finally be able to wash my clothes and especially my underwear.