The world stood tipped upon the edge of night, the sun clinging desperately to the pale edges of the sky, tingeing all with a hushed golden light. The very air seemed trapped, as if the world had taken a deep breath and held it against the oncoming wall of night.

It was only our second night in the mountain pass proper, though it felt like an eternity. For the last two days, we had been beleaguered by the incessant cold and flurries of snow, which had culminated in a terrible snowstorm that had raged for most of the night. Early this morning, our Company had fallen into argument, driven to despair by the weather, as to whether or not to turn back and seek another path, or to continue on. It had fallen on me as Ringbearer to make the final decision; and despite the lure of warmth and safety of retreat, I could not ignore Gandalf's grave misgivings of the other paths. He had never steered me wrong before, after all.

Aragorn had warned earlier in the day that another storm was coming, even as we'd trudged through last night's bitter snowfall, already piled knee-high, at least to a Hobbit. We had been fortunate today to come across a tiny cave, barely large enough to contain a single person if one wanted personal space, and most definitely far too small for a company of nine and a pony.

Caradhras had proven to be extremely stingy with its shelters thus far.

Squashed in as we were, the air of the cave was quickly becoming stuffy and, frankly, it smelt very unpleasant. The closeness of Bill and the other members of the Fellowship were not helping with the smell either. Gandalf had retreated to the very edge to smoke his pipe; Sam and my cousins were caring for Bill; Aragorn and Legolas were going through their packs and conversing quietly; however, their conversation was being drowned out by Boromir and Gimli's increasingly loud bickering.

It was extremely grating on my stressed nerves.

In order to escape and keep my own fraying temper, I stepped out into the snow-covered edge of the mountain scree, hoping to enjoy the fresh air for as long as possible before the storm trapped us altogether. The wind gusted refreshingly in my face, prompting a small sigh of relief, blowing away the malicious whispers of ill-tempered remarks I'd dreamt up to say to the Fellowship.

"Sêw!"

I turned sharply at the sudden yelp that broke the evening quiet, carrying loudly over the voices of the Fellowship. Just in time I spotted our company's Elvish representative stumble from the cave, retching and spitting in disgust. it was, I had to admit, the most ungraceful I had ever seen him in our few weeks travelling together. I was not the only one to stare, although, only Gimli was openly laughing.

"Legolas?" Aragorn's voice was filled with alarm, picking up the Elf's discarded water canteen and sniffing it suspiciously. "Legolas, boe dhen eithad?"

Legolas shook his head once, still bent over the cliff edge, his chest heaving in-between pained coughs. Seemingly placated somewhat, Aragorn turned his attention to the still-laughing Gimli and brandished the canteen.

"And what was your part in this, Master Dwarf?" he asked, frowning.

"Ach, it was only a joke, Aragorn. A tiny pinch of tobacco ash." The Dwarf shrugged, unconcerned. "The princeling is overreacting."

"This is no time for foolish pranks!" Gandalf snapped. "It may have escaped your notice, Master Dwarf, but-"

Whatever it was that Gandalf was going to say next was drowned out by an ominous rumble. The entire company froze in alarm as the rumbling came again, louder and closer this time.

"Avalanche!" Boromir's voice boomed out, shattering the paralysis that had suddenly gripped us all.

"Inside! Now!"

But in that moment as I made to rush back to the cave, the mountain gave a tremendous heave. My arms flailed wildly for balance as the mountain shook, my feet lost their purchase upon the icy ground, sending me flying backwards in a fall I felt certain would result in my death; we were, after all, perilously high upon a mountainside.

I could hear the panicked cries of the others from the cave as they noticed my plight: "Frodo! Mr Frodo!"

And then suddenly, my fall was arrested as I was snatched from thin air by the thin muscular arms of the Elf and thrust unceremoniously onto his back.

"Hold on!" he ordered and I obeyed without complaint; knotting my hands in the supple suede of his tunic, my face buried in strands of golden hair. I had not noticed until then the absence of his trademark bow and quiver, but I was grateful for their absence now; it made it far easier to cling to my rescuer.

I could not see; I could only hear the sound of the mountain tearing itself apart, the wind howling like a pack of ferocious wolves. I could feel Legolas struggling to move towards the cave against the force of elements and the peppering sting of the snow and hail against my skin.

There was a thunderous crack! followed by a low persistent rumble.

Legolas tensed and redoubled his efforts to make the cave but then abruptly we were struck by a crushing force and borne backwards towards the edge.

Snow was everywhere, pressing against my face, smothering my breath. I clung as fiercely as I could to Legolas, the feeling of his tunic clutched tightly in my hands the only sense not lost to me in those few desperate moments, and the frantic play of his muscles beneath me as he clawed for purchase. And then, with a sudden jolt we stopped.

I opened my eyes slowly, terrified of what I might find.

There was nothing beneath me but snow and ice and death. We were dangling precariously on the mountainside several feet down from the pass where our Fellowship stood; and we were dangling there by the pure grace of Elvish strength, Legolas' fingers were clamped vicelike around the exposed rocks, his every muscle holding us there, even as his feet sought for footholds in the almost sheer cliff-face.

"Frodo?"

"I am here, Legolas."

"Are you hurt?"

"No." My voice sounded small and frightened to my own ears.

"Good. I will need your assistance in returning to the pass."

My assistance? What good could I do? I could not help pull him up, and certainly all I was doing now was making it harder for him to hold on.

"Frodo." His voice, as calm and even as ever, brought me out of my panicked whirling thoughts. "You must call for Aragorn. I cannot hold us here and waste strength on calling for aid. So you must. But carefully, too much shouting could bring the mountain's wrath back down upon us."

He did not have to add that if such a thing happened, we, trapped here as we were, would most certainly die.

I nodded stiffly and took a deep breath.

"Aragorn! Aragorn!"

My first attempt was pitiful, echoing mockingly in my ears. But the second was louder and carried better. I paused, straining to catch even a hint of a reply.

"Frodo?"

Aragorn! His voice was faint, but there and my heart leapt for joy. He had heard!

Above, Aragorn's noble features appeared at the edge, a bodiless head that frowned in concern at us as it took in the details of our predicament. "Are you both unharmed?" he called down. I noted the careful way he spoke, allowing his voice to carry down to us without the dangerous volume that would rouse the mountain again.

I nodded my reply to him but then paused, frowning at my silent companion. "Are you hurt, Legolas?"

"No." His voice was a little less breathless now, but I could hear the strain behind it. "Not seriously. I will be terribly bruised tomorrow though, I think."

If we lived to see tomorrow, that is.

There was evidently some discussion going on at the top, for when I looked again, Aragorn's face was turned away, his expression one of terrible annoyance. Though, he was careful to smooth this away before looking back towards us.

"We have no rope." he told us, with some bitterness. No rope! Dismay filled me. How then were we to climb back up?

Legolas was struggling to hold us where we were, he surely could not manage to climb as well.

My feelings must have shown clearly on my face for Aragorn hastened to continue in what was obviously intended to be a reassuring manner, "We are fashioning one of blankets and our cloaks, but it will take some time. Can you hold on?"

"I must," Legolas said, "but I fear the weather and the dark will work against us."

I quickly repeated his words to Aragorn, who nodded and vanished from sight, presumably to aid with the 'rope'. I sighed, worn out by the frantic terror that had consumed me just a few minutes ago. Just a few minutes, my mind sluggishly grasped. It felt like hours: the mountain quaking, the blind torrent of snow and the precious moments it had taken Aragorn between responses. Snow was still falling steadily and the darkness was creeping in more thickly, even as the wind began to start up more frequent buffeting gusts; I could feel each tense of Legolas' muscles as the wind conspired to knock us loose.

"Legolas?"

"Mmm?" I felt terrible for distracting him as he fought so hard to keep us from falling.

"Is there anything I can do? To make things easier for you, I mean." How much I could manage was debatable, my fingers and toes were already growing numb with the cold.

The Elf shook his head, his hair tickling my nose. "Not at this moment, Frodo. You do not weigh much, thankfully. This would have been much harder with anyone but a Hobbit."

I gave a small laugh, more sob than laugh if I was being honest, picturing Gimli or Boromir or Gandalf clinging to Legolas' back. It was not really funny, but it made me feel a little better. Anything to distract me from the increasingly insistent whispers in the back of my mind that Legolas would betray me, drop me at the first chance he got. Why wouldn't he, since this whole mess was my fault?

More minutes passed in silence as I fretted, though how many I could not reasonably be certain, until at last a makeshift rope of cloaks and blankets tumbled down the mountainside to hang just a few inches from Legolas' head.

"Legolas?" It was Pippin that appeared above us now, his voice high with fear. Hobbits do not like heights after all, and he was staring straight down the drop at us. I myself was trying very hard to not think of the drop beneath my feet. "Strider says to take hold of the rope."

"I cannot." Legolas shook his head. "If I let go to grab the rope, we will fall. I do not have footholds."

Dismayed, I repeated this message to Pippin, who vanished momentarily, evidently to repeat this unwelcome news to Aragorn.

"Can you reach, Frodo?" He asked upon his return. I eyed the rope doubtfully.

"Can you move it along a bit?" I asked. "A bit to the left and lower it a little more?"

The rope gave a few twitches along but did not drop any further down. Evidently then, they were giving us all they could. I had to try, if we were to have any chance of surviving this.

"Legolas..." I did not know what to say to him? To brace himself? This would undoubtedly be very uncomfortable for him, but if he could not reach the rope himself...then there was no other way.

He nodded. "Go, Frodo. I am prepared."

I paused for a second, too terrified to begin, before slowly uncurling my fingers from their death-grip on his tunic. Bracing my feet against the strong leather of his belt, I carefully shifted my hands one at a time to his shoulders.

"Use my hair if you must, Frodo." Legolas encouraged softly. I did not want to, it would definitely hurt him, but I did not have much choice. The wind was sending the rope swishing back and forth.

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, I used it to pull myself up, one foot on the shoulder my hand had so recently vacated. Now, I just had to grab the rope in order to pull myself up completely.

The rope swung close.

I snatched at it, launching myself from my precarious perch.

I missed.

Once again, I toppled madly into the vast emptiness. I heard Pippin's cry of shock; felt Legolas snatch at me once again. He was clinging to the rock-face with only one hand, the other locked around my wrist, his face with contorted with pain and effort, and a low steady stream of Sindarin curses flowing from his mouth.

The strain was too much. As Legolas tried pulling me in closer, the rock that his fingers had been gripping for support crumbled.

And together, we fell into the night.

Thank you everyone for reading! And many thanks to my beta-readers: Morbubble, Tobi is a good boy, and love-yoshness, all of whom can be found here on FFn under those usernames.

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