By Ola

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A/N~ after the tragic loss of Gandalf, the fellowship is down to eight. But what happens when another member falls?…

I took some liberties with the scenery –a necessity for the plot to work right- so the time period and space are not exactly according to Tolkien's work, although I did  try to leave the characters as close to their original as possible (you may notice a few sentences that I "borrowed" from the book and/or movie - a cookie to anyone who finds them out! =)

Warning- lots of angst to come. No slash and no romance. Be my guest if you think a pat on the back counts as romance though *grin* =)

Disclaimer- why do you think this is called a fanfiction? =) ok, so none of the characters belong to me –sniffle- I am simply borrowing them for a little while, hopefully returning them undamaged. The story/plot –however you want to call it- IS mine, and I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it…

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Part 1~ Loss

            Two days ago, it had snowed hard, forcing the fellowship to slow down to a crawl, while fighting against the harsh wind and bitter cold. When the storm had wandered off further south, the sun had broken through the cover of clouds, finally letting Legolas and Aragorn get a clear view of their surroundings. With the sun, spirits rose, but temperatures dropped drastically. Not even Legolas remembered such a cold winter in his long life. Frost covered their eyelashes and beards, and a spit froze as soon as it left their mouth. Walking with limbs stiff from cold was hard. The little hobbits especially had a hard time, although even the elf felt the stinging cold. He did not like the new feeling. At all. But they kept moving. Doing over wise was certain death. For them, and for the rest of Middle-Earth.

The only blessing from the cold was the layer of ice covering the several feet of powdery snow. The crust was thick enough for even Gimli and Boromir to walk on. And although it did break from time to time, dunking the poor unfortunate into cold, wet snow up to his waist –or chest- most of the time it held firm, allowing the fellowship to walk on snow in the way of the elves. It brought a smile to Legolas's lips. Yes, what a fine company of elves we make, he chuckled, looking at Gimli as the poor dwarf slipped on a particularly icy patch of snow and found himself on his rear end, scowling and daring anyone to laugh at him.

"Strider, if we don't stop for a tiny little bit of rest, my toes will fall off." Who else but Pippin could say such a thing?

"I'm sorry Pippin, but we cannot. We have already lost far too much time. We will stop when darkness sets. If it makes you feel better, we are all as cold as you."

"I bet Legolas isn't" the young hobbit looked very mournful. The elf in question made a funny face, but couldn't suppress a shiver.

"I wouldn't be so sure, little one." Laughter was clearly audible in Aragorn's voice.

"Still, I would prefer being an elf right now," mumbled Pippin, sticking his lip out in what could only be termed as a pout. The elf's mouth quirked up and he picked the little hobbit up, carrying him effortlessly on his back.

"Ah, I think I will stay a hobbit then." Following Legolas's example, Aragorn and Boromir picked up Frodo and Merry, rotating every so often so that Sam too would be able to warm his feet a little.

It is a great misfortune that Gandalf has fallen. He would have known some incantation to warm us all. Ah, Gandalf, friend, you cannot know how your loss pains me. I have known you for as long as I can remember, and your sudden departure hurts as much as the loss of my kin. The young elf's sigh was lost in the howling wind, but his yelp of a few minutes later was not. Everyone turned at the unexpected sound…and sight, of the proud elf sitting waist deep in snow, a surprised look on his fair face.

"Thank Eru I stayed a hobbit then," said Pippin. Aragorn laughed out loud, and so did Boromir, Gimli –his stiff beard wagging strangely- and the other hobbits, to the elf's great discomfort. He swiftly stood up, with as much dignity as he had left, and brushed off the snow that clung to him.

"Well, master hobbit, take full advantage of your wide hairy little feet, for you will need them for the next few miles." And with that, he strode off, the fellowship scrambling to catch up with him. a few minutes and a hug later, Pippin was once again on Legolas's back, a smile on both their faces.

The pale sun still shone feebly, and the cold wind still ran on the flat plain. Half an hour later, the elf assured his friends that he saw trees in the distance. They would be able to make a fire and find shelter for the night. They unconsciously picked up the pace. A little while later, the ranger's keen eyes also caught the gray ghostly spikes. As they coasted a slight rise in the terrain, the full view was revealed to them. A few hours march away stood the dark trunks of a vast forest, shrouded in mist. To the north rose the sharp spire of Carahadras, and far, far away to the south east, lost even to the eyes of ones such as Legolas, lay the warm plains of Rohan. And in front of them, encased in a slight depression, a large, circular, open area where the wind was free to roam, unimpeded by even a scraggly bush or a rock, surrounded on the side away from them by the semi-circle of the forest's edge. The friends did not stay long contemplating the view-there wasn't that much to see anyway, since a thin mist covered most of the area- but quickly walked ahead.

"Aragorn…"

"What is it Legolas?"

"We should not cross the plain…"

"Why? That would mean at least three more days of walking. The hobbits are weary. So are we. Let's take the shortcut!" said Boromir, voicing the opinion of all the little people.

"I…I do not know. Evil draws near…" Legolas looked off into the distance and scanned the sky for any sight of danger approaching.

"Do you feel Sauron's spies? Are the ringwreaths riding their flying steeds?"

"…Nay…it is not the open sky that worries me…"

Aragorn too looked around, aware of this peculiar ability of the elves. A rather nasty gust of wind buffeted him and he turned his face away from the stinging slap, his watering eyes resting on Frodo and Merry, huddling together and using the tall human as a meager shield against the wind. Boromir is right. The little ones cannot endure this much longer. Out loud, he said:

"We will have to be on our guards. Anyone who feels or hears anything…out of the ordinary, tell me. The quicker we pass through here, the better." With another inaudible sigh, Legolas took his bow out, and closed the single file, hoping that their passage would go unnoticed.

The journey on the valley was the same as it had been on the higher grounds. Still windy, still bitterly cold. Except that they all felt the tension in the air. Legolas was high strung, his head moved from side to side, as if trying to catch the slightest noise, and his eyes betrayed his worries.

 "What's that?" Boromir pointed to a darker patch on the pristine white snow, and took a few steps toward it. When he realized what he was looking at, his eyes widened. "Aragorn! We are on in the middle of a god-damned lake! And there is a hole going right down to the water!" The shock and alarm was clear in his voice, although he tried not to let it show.

Aii, Boromir. And it is not the only one. We have already passed by a few others, although they were farther away, shrouded from your view by the thickening mist. It does not bode well. The tracks on the snow near the previous one indicated a dear, and those animals should know better than to walk through treacherous grounds. They do know better. So this was not thin ice. But what then? The tracks only led one way…into the water. The poor beast did not escape. But escape from what? Legolas kept his thoughts to himself, not wanting to distress his friends further, but he increased his watchfulness even more, listening to any sound other than the soft crunching of their boots-and feet- on the snow.

"Yes. The ground was far too flat for it to be anything else." The ranger answered Boromir, then looked around him, eyes narrowed, glanced at his feet and nodded. He did not investigate the hole in the lake that the other human had found. It was not necessary. He knew the dangers of thin ice all too well, and prayed that no human being-or elf, dwarf, hobbit and the likes- had had the misfortune to produce that opening. He picked up the pace. No one complained. But everyone took much more care in the way they walked, trying to stay on top of the crust of icy snow. Breaking through it may not be as inconsequential as it had been back on firm land. It still happened a few times, as once Pippin and then Gimli, foundered in the powder, quickly regaining their feet as if they could feel the dark water lapping at their toes, even though it most probably lay quiet under a thick layer of ice.

"Strider? How…how deep do you think the water is here?"

"You don't know how to swim Pip. What difference does it make if there's six feet and sixty?" Merry told his cousin before Aragorn could open his mouth.

"There's no need to be afraid. It's cold enough to have frozen the ice and make it safe for us to cross it. But still, do not make sudden movements, and walk with a few feet in between each other."

The next half hour was spent in silence; only the soft huffing and panting, and the slightly sharper sound of the icy snow crunching under their weight betrayed their presence. And of course, the ever present wind still howled around them without mercy.

Suddenly, the elf whipped his head around –for a moment, his hair suspended around his face like a halo- and yelled "RUN!" A few heart beats later, a horrendous crash broke the eerie song of the wind, as a large chunk of ice and snow rose into the air, pushed by a long, thick, black tentacle, and another, and another…

"The Watcher…" whispered the elf, as blood drained from his already pale face. With fingers stiff from the cold, he plucked an arrow and fired, his aim still true. Then he ran. Away from the rest of the fellowship, all the while yelling and hitting the tip of his bow against the ice, keeping the attention of the monster on himself.

"Run!  Do not look back! Run as fast as you can, and whatever happens, do not come back!" Aragorn turned around and unsheathed his sword, but the young elf flung up his slender hand to stop him.

"You cannot fight the Watcher in his own realm! Run you fool! Run!" His keen elven eyes saw the fear in his friend's eyes, as another block of ice rose and icy water sprayed everywhere. Legolas barely jumped away in time. And yet, Aragorn did not retreat.

"Aragorn! You cannot help! The little ones need you more than I! Run! Run until you reach the tr…" his words were drowned by the screech of the beast, a gigantic thing with black horns and spikes. It briefly hid the elf from Aragorn's view. When the monster plunged back into the depths with yet another wave of black water, the ranger was met with silence…and emptiness.

And then he ran, hot tears blurring his vision.

Half an hour later, he stumbled and finally fell in front of his companions, his eyes red and stinging, but dried by the wind.

"What took you so long?" grumbled Gimli, still out of breath; peering behind Aragorn, he added "and where is Legolas?". The ranger stood up and looked the way he had come, over the white, deadly expanse, to hide his emotions, and in the hope that he had been mistaken, that his friend was still out there, alive, simply taking his time…that he would materialize out of the mist at any moment.

"Aragorn?" the ranger felt the other man's hand on his shoulder, but he still did not turn around and answer the question that was on all their minds. Silence descended on the group; all their eyes turned the same direction.

            West.

                        Expectantly waiting for the slim, blond warrior…

            …that did not come back.

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A/N~ so? What did you think? Don't worry, it's not the end yet. (or maybe you SHOULD worry. You never know with me… hee hee!!)

Please review!

~Ola~

Oh, and if you're interested-

If you look at Legolas's name, and divide it into two, you get:

LE- for the French "the" and -GOLAS for the polish "naked" or "nude one". So you get: the naked/nude one! Lol.

All right, all right, LAS does mean "forest" in polish, so I guess the whole "green leaf" think works too, but well, the first translation is so much…nicer =)