The Anger of the Mountain, by Ted Nasmith

"It was a different world up there, and one even a witch would rarely venture into; it was a landscape left over from the frosty birth of the world, all green ice and knife-edge ridges and deep, secret valleys.

It was a landscape never intended for human beings – not hostile, any more than a brick or cloud is hostile, but terribly, terribly uncaring."

― Terry Pratchett, Wyrd Sisters

5. Dashing Through the Snow

Kat had nothing against snow as such – quite the opposite actually, she enjoyed building lanterns with it and making snow angels and of course throwing snowballs on unsuspecting friends. The past winters in Sweden had been lousy – more like prolonged autumn, really – and therefore when she felt the first snowflakes she was quite excited.

The excitement lasted exactly twenty-one minutes. That was how long it took for her to realize this snow was different. It was not fluffy and friendly, it could not be formed into neither snowballs nor a cute snowman with a carrot nose. The Caradhras snow was harsh, grumpy and cruel, whipping the company's faces and stinging their eyes. It fell on the ground in powdery heaps their feet sank down into and was cumbersome and tiring to wade through.

After another twelve minutes Kat had had enough of it and swiftly climbed on top of the elf.

I am not a pony. Ride Bill instead.

You smell nicer. She made herself comfortable, draping her body over his shoulders like a living scarf.

At least you are warm, Legolas grudgingly admitted.

In the front, they were discussing the weather in worried voices.

Legolas recounted: Aragorn says it is not usual with so much snow this far south, and Boromir suggests it is the Enemy's doing. Axe Guy says Sauron's arm must have grown long to trouble us this far away, and Gandalf agrees.

Kat shuddered. An enemy with long arms... that made her think of Slenderman, but hopefully they had not meant it literally.

They trudged on, but it was evident the shorter hobbits had it difficult. The blinding blizzard chilled them and they had to walk nearly bent double. Even the humans and the dwarf were beginning to tire.

After a while Kat heard a strange sound in the air. It reminded her of when one was searching for channels on an old radio; a murmur of almost-voices and laughter just barely perceivable through the white noise. It would have scared her pants off, had she worn any, and under her body she felt the elf's shoulders tense.

Do you hear it too? she asked.

I do.

She could smell his fear, which increased her own fright fourfold.

Then stones began to fall around them, rumbling down the mountainside and crashing onto the narrow path. They pressed themselves flat against the towering cliffside, trying to hide under the slight overhang.

Boromir cried something over the wind. Kat understood the essence of what he said, something about not going further and voices on the air, and his final words: "These stones are aimed at us."

Aimed by who? Slender-Sauron?

A discussion followed about what to do next, because further up the mountain they would be even more exposed to the snow and any additional falling stones. They had not many choices; going forward, staying here or going back. Since the overhang above seemed to be the most sheltered spot on this side of the mountain, Aragorn decided they should stay and wait out the storm.

They huddled close together, pressing their backs against the cold cliff with Bill the pony taking the brunt of the torrents for them. The hobbits seemed the most affected by the weather and Kat climbed down from Legolas to join them, offering what little warmth she could.

Around them the snow kept falling fast, and soon Kat and the hobbits were almost buried. The walls of snow around them isolated fairly well from the wind and they were getting sleepy.

This was almost cozy. Kat felt herself purr and knead Pippin's chest while her eyes grew heavy and her breaths slowed.

The hissing of the wind changed and became rhythmic. Wheeze-pschh-wheeze-pschh. It sounded like forced breathing. Was that a tube down her throat? A mechanical ventilator? She was in her old body but it felt heavy and dead. What was happening? Why could she not move? She was panicking now and a beeping noise matched her frantic heartbeat.

Then she felt a hand grasp the scruff of her neck and she was pulled up from the snow that had buried her entirely.

Careful, Little One. Never fall asleep when it is this cold.

As Kat panted heavily to regain oxygen she noticed Boromir pull up the hobbits from the same hole. Their faces were almost blue.

"This will be the death of the hobbits, Gandalf." Boromir spoke clearly and slowly to be heard over the wind and even Kat understood. Gandalf answered something and picked up a small bottle from his gear, instructing Boromir to share it with them.

That is Miruvor, explained the elf. A strengthening cordial. Only a small amount is enough to invigorate you.

Is it safe for cats? Kat badly needed to be invigorated after her frightening dream. For it had been a dream. She was not dreaming this.

Legolas received the bottle from Boromir and spilled a drop on his finger. Kat licked it up and instantly relaxed as a comforting warmth spread through her.

She found she could think more rationally about her dream now. It could have been real, it had certainly felt so – and that meant somewhere her old body was still alive, perhaps comatose. But she was also certain this was real; no way she could have dreamt all this up – she had not that kind of imagination for sure.

Mr Pretty Voice had said that if she succeeded with her quest she could get her old life back. Maybe the dream now was to reassure her that option was still valid?

But even if she could... Did she really want that life anymore? Sure, she would be able to return to her colleagues, her class, her friends and her mother – but for Mamma it did not really matter whether Kat returned or not, suffering from late-stage Alzheimer's she could not recognize her anymore. And Pappa had been dead for several years. That was the drawback of being adopted; old parents. One of the drawbacks, rather, for having another skin color than most kids was not a walk in the park either.

Thinking back, Kat figured she had not been unhappy but not exactly happy either. Life in her woman's body had been predictable. Working on the weekdays, playing mobile games and scrolling through social media in the evenings and perhaps going out with a friend to take a few beers in a too-loud pub on the weekend, waking up with a hangover the next morning.

It was almost like the elf's description of time, actually... The days had passed in a blur and suddenly it was summer again.

In contrast, the past weeks had been different – strange and frightening, yes, but also fun. Had Mr Pretty Voice not said she could choose this world as a reward too? But she did not want to be a cat for the rest of her life – the dull and predictable was endlessly better then.

That was... if she could return to that. What if she was trapped in this body forever – either here or on Earth? The thought was so horrible Kat pushed it down instantly. Surely Mr Pretty Voice could not be that cruel.

Suddenly she realized how much she missed being a human. To be able to speak, use her fingers, to take a shower instead of licking herself clean and get hairballs in her mouth – little things like that.

It was enough to make a woman cry – but not even that outlet was open to her anymore.

/\_,,_/\
( – _ – )

The hours passed slowly and the chill was beginning to affect them all badly. Even Kat felt it now despite her thick coat and she snuggled closer to Boromir's neck, in whose fur clad hood she currently lay.

"What do you say to fire?" Boromir asked Gandalf. He continued with something about death, using words Kat did not understand, while indicating the shivering hobbits.

Were they dying? They certainly looked in danger of losing a limb, and in this medieval-type world the doctors could probably not cure frostbite.

"You may make a fire if you can," said Gandalf, and added that if anyone was watching them in this storm they could probably see them here anyway, fire or no. With all that snow their dark clothes stood out.

Boromir gathered the wood they had brought with them and tried to light it, but every flame he managed to strike with his flint was instantly extinguished by the wind.

"Let me do it", said Aragorn impatiently and took the steel and flint from him.

Kat smiled smugly when he too failed.

"Allow me. At my age, I have more experience with lighting fires," said Legolas. Kat understood the word 'experience' from the context.

But Legolas did not fare any better, and now the dwarf could not stay silent. "You're doing it wrong," he rumbled. "Elves are [unfamiliar word] who can't be trusted with fire. Us dwarves do this all the time in our [another unfamiliar word]."

The elf scowled at him and replied something that sounded rude. But he did hand over the items.

Axe Guy naturally failed just like the others had, and soon the equipment went back and forth when every guy wanted to try just that angle or this stick.

Around them the snow fell rapidly and Kat sighed inwardly. This would take forever. How typical of them to turn this into a masculinity competition!

At last Gandalf came to their rescue. He picked up a log and murmured something in another language. When he held his staff against it, it instantly burst into flame. Soon he had a merry fire going.

Thank God for wizards! Kat thought, impressed by the display.

It was necessary, I suppose, but unfortunately he has now announced his exact location to every other magic user in the vicinity. We cannot linger here for long.

In this horrible weather, hopefully they stay indoors. At least I would.

The Fellowship gratefully huddled around the fire, its warm light dancing on their faces and the night sky becoming a dark wall behind them. Kat climbed up on Legolas' shoulder again to make the most of the warmth.

So, I had this strange dream before, she thought conversationally. I was back in my old self but could not move my limbs. Maybe I got so badly hurt I am paralyzed? It actually felt good to return to my cat body after that.

Legolas only smiled in that annoying way he had, like one might do to a small child or mentally ill person.

I ought to have appreciated my human body more when I still had it. But back then I'd always worry that my eyes were too big or if I was getting chubby. Stupid, really... Now I'd much rather be a fat goggle-eyed woman than a cat.

I am sure you would.

I was rather proud of my breasts, actually. They were big and I only had two instead of... like six? Or how many I got now. Are you a breast person or a butt person?

Can we talk about something else?

Maybe you're into guys? Sorry for assuming your orientation.

I am not attracted to males.

I love it when you blush. I think it's cute and I wish I could do it too, but even in my old body I had too dark skin for it to show. Now, answer the question. Breasts or butts?

Legolas could not flee this time and reluctantly replied: I would not know, I have never considered it. It is not polite to look at ladies that way.

Liar. She playfully boxed his bright red ear with her paw.

I guess I like both, he finally admitted. Now please drop this topic.

Kat took pity on him and they spent the rest of the night practicing Westron.

/\_ ,._/\
( ಠ‿ಠ )

It snowed all night long, the flakes melting around the fire into sludgy puddles. When they were down to the last log, there was finally a hint of dawn and the wind had grown slightly weaker.

Boromir left the burnt down embers to study the sky, saying it was snowing less as well, which was a relief because by now the surrounding snow wall reached above the men's shoulders, even the absurdly tall Aragorn's.

Dawn came at last and the company dismally surveyed their surroundings. The world had disappeared under a blanket of snow, so dazzlingly white it hurt their eyes. Where there had been craggy stones and crooked pines were only soft mounds now and the path was completely hidden. It looked like a Christmas Card but without the cheerful robins.

The dwarf talked about the mountain as if it were a living creature, claiming it did not want them there and they should retreat. The others agreed, Caradhras really had seemed like a sentient being throwing all that snow upon them, but how could they return through it? It went way over the hobbits' heads.

"Gandalf can melt a path for us," Legolas suggested.

"Or the elf could fly up to fetch the sun. The wood is gone, I cannot burn snow."

Boromir said the strongest of them should dig a way and Aragorn agreed, obviously adding himself to that number. Soon the two of them were busy, with Boromir who was heavier built going first and Aragorn close behind him. They worked with zeal, digging up armloads of snow and tossing it on the sides.

It's great we have such strong men in the Fellowship. Kat winked at Legolas.

The elf, who had been watching them as well, smirked. I bet they cannot do this, though! He jumped on top of the snow, balancing easily on the frozen crust that had formed during the night. "I shall go fetch the sun," he called to Gandalf, and then he was off; running lightly ahead, passing the digging men and waving to them before disappearing around the corner of a cliff.

Show-off. But he was already out of thinking range.

Meanwhile, Boromir and Aragorn struggled onward until they too had turned the corner.

There was a light snowfall again and Kat tried to catch the flakes on her tongue. Beside her, the hobbits, the dwarf and the wizard huddled morosely, shivering and huffing, stamping their feet and blowing into their hands to keep them warm.

After about an hour or so Legolas returned, and close behind him came Aragorn and Boromir pushing back through their newly made trench.

"The sun was busy warming the south," said Legolas cheerfully. He then described how he had scouted ahead and seen that the snow was at its deepest right here; further downhill it was barely enough to cover the ground. The men had dug a channel through the worst of it now.

"I told you it was the mountain's doing," said the dwarf, and some more words spoken too fast and booming for Kat's limited proficiency.

Legolas kindly translated the ensuing discussion. Gimli said that Caradhras does not like dwarves and elves and has punished us with the snow. Boromir replied that the mountain did not take into account the strength of humans, and that they have now dug a path for you non-elves who cannot run upon the snow.

Put me up there with you, Kat ordered.

Legolas obeyed and she proudly strutted away beside the trench, her tail straight as an exclamation mark. See? Elves are not the only ones who can walk on snow.

Soon they were all on their way back. The channel was still too difficult to walk for the hobbits' short legs, but despite having toiled all morning, Boromir and Aragorn amazingly enough had strength left to carry them through. Close behind came the wizard and the dwarf, while Legolas ran over the snow on the side and Kat easily followed him.

When they had passed through the deepest part – which was as deep as twice the height of Boromir in the middle! – there was another rumble as more snow and stones cascaded down from the mountaintop, like a last warning for them never to try that route again.

Axe Guy yelled angrily at Caradhras to stop. They were leaving, could it not see that?

Maybe it heard him, for shortly afterwards the snowfall subsided entirely and the sky brightened. Like Legolas had said, there was barely any snow on the ground down here and soon they were back at the spot where they had seen the first snowflakes yesterday.

Was it only one day ago? It felt like they had been on the horrible mountain for weeks.

"The birds again!" Aragorn pointed at a cluster of black dots flying around further downhill. Since the company was still at a high altitude they could see them from above.

Gandalf said there was no helping it, they had to retreat now even if they risked being spotted by Saruman's spies.

And so they kept walking, tired, hungry and chilled to the bone. Caradhras had defeated them.

A/N:

Kat is beginning to understand more of the common language (Westron), which is natural after hearing it nearly constantly for several weeks. According to some sources it can take as little as two months to learn the basics of a new language if you practice more than ten hours per day. Not sure if that's really true. ;) But Kat has both some language talent and great motivation.

​​​​​​​Also: Happy New Year!

Image Credits:

The Anger of the Mountain by Ted Nasmith, source: http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/File:Ted_Nasmith_-_The_Anger_of_the_Mountain.jpg