Saruman straightened himself; gazing in the direction that Mithrandir had escaped. He'd been so close to obtaining the Ring! He should have just killed them all when he'd had the chance; now all the orcs and wargs he had brought with him were dead and the Ring was getting further and further away. Of course, most of those in Mithrandir's company had been wounded; they would not be able to travel long without rest. 

Footsteps from behind alerted Saruman of another's presence. He turned around and narrowed his eyes as the group of men he'd charged with bringing him the Halflings appeared; strangely at the head of them was not Dronar but his brother. Why were they here now? They were responsible for letting the Hobbits and the others get away, what could stop him from killing them all here and now?

"I hope that you have not come seeking a reward." Saruman's voice was low and dangerous; a few of the men backed away while others shifted nervously, Dronar's brother was the only one who did not show fear. In fact what the wizard saw was anger in the young man's eyes; not just anger, but hatred.
"I am no longer searching for rewards." The boy said dryly. His voice seemed to lack all emotion, which interested Saruman.

"Then why are you here? Where is Dronar?" He asked curiously.
"They killed him," the boy's voice cracked and his hands tightened into fists, "that Elf killed my brother. I want him to pay for what he has done."
Saruman took in his words; a plan already beginning to form in his mind.
"What is your name boy?"
"Thilald."

You will prove useful to me Thilald, He thought to himself. Aloud he said, "Tell me Thilald, do you seek vengeance on the Elf that travels with the Hobbits?"
"I want them all dead," Thilald replied immediately, "every single one of them."
Saruman smiled.
"Then you shall get your wish."

Turning away from Thilald and the group of men Saruman started forward, the footsteps behind him confirming that they were following.
"They have fled into the mountains," he informed them, "half of them are wounded which will slow their pace. We will trap them and then, we will kill them. Leave the man cloaked in grey to me."

As he walked he noticed an abandoned sword lying on the ground; the one the Ranger had been fighting with. There was something odd about the sword. Saruman went over and retrieved the weapon; inspecting it in his hands a wicked smile appeared on his face.

So; Mithrandir believes that he has found the heir of Isildur... 
Turning to Thilald the wizard said, "I fear that there has been a change of plans, the Ranger must be left alive. The others may be killed however you wish."
If Thilald was angered by this he did not show it. He simply nodded his head and waited for them to set out again. Saruman carried the sword in one hand and his staff in the other. The Misty Mountains loomed in front of them; Mithrandir had led his friends into a trap.

If he thought that he had saved them, then he was gravely mistaken.

{}{}{}

"In here, all of you." Gandalf stood near the entrance of a small cave; after thoroughly checking it to ensure that it was uninhabited he began to usher the small company into the temporary shelter. They'd fled into the mountains as far as their weary bodies would allow them to, if the injured were not treated soon they would die. 

Once all of them were settled inside Gandalf followed, using his staff lit up the dark cave and quickly assessed everyone's injuries. Pippin appeared to be injured the worst; the young Hobbit was barely breathing and his skin was taking a pale, sickly color. If he was not seen to now he would die. 

The wizard quickly moved over to his side where Merry (who thankfully only suffered a few cuts and scrapes) was kneeling beside his cousin with tears in his eyes. 
"You must move aside Meriadoc so I can tend to him." Gandalf tried to gently move him aside but Merry refused to leave Pippin's side. 
I need to distract him somehow...
"Merry I need you to help me," Frodo called quietly, "let Gandalf take care of Pippin, he'll be alright."

For a moment Merry hesitated, looking down at his cousin's ashen face, then back to Frodo. 
"Merry, please. Sam and I can't do this by ourselves." As he spoke Sam was already getting the others settled in the small cave; helping them to sit or lay down while trying to avoid inflicting further pain on his injured friends. 
"Do as he says Meriadoc." Gandalf left no room for argument in his voice. Looking one last time at his cousin, Merry stood and walked over to Frodo. 

Sighing in relief Gandalf began his work. Pippin was hanging onto life by a thread; it was a miracle he had survived for this long and it would take another one to save him. Gandalf quickly assessed the young Hobbit's injuries; he would do what he could to stop the bleeding and keep Pippin alive long enough for them to reach somewhere safe. Pippin had two, deep gashes in his stomach from where the warg had bitten him. Two more were on his back and were not as deep as the others.

Gandalf didn't have time to check the extent of the warg's damage and focused on stopping the bleeding. He unclasped Pippin's cloak and carefully pulled it out from under him. It was torn a bit from the attack but it would do for now. Placing one hand on Pippin's back, the wizard gently eased him up in a sitting position. Taking the cloak he wrapped it around the Hobbit's stomach, binding it as tightly as he could. 

Pippin gave a soft moan of discomfort as his head lolled to the side, coming to rest in the crook of Gandalf's arm. Making sure that the temporary bandage wouldn't come loose, Gandalf slowly lowered Pippin onto the floor of the cave. The young Hobbit moaned one last time before going still. Placing a hand over his chest Gandalf could feel a faint heartbeat, stopping the bleeding wouldn't be enough to save him.

Sighing, Gandalf placed one hand on Pippin's forehead, and the other over his heart. Closing his tired eyes, he murmured an old healing spell that he only used as a last resort for it drained his power greatly. 
And I am already weary...
He thought grimly.
A shudder passed through his body as he finished reciting the words. Opening his eyes he looked down once more on Pippin. Some color had returned to his face and his breathing was not as labored. 

I have saved him, but I cannot treat the others the same way.
Turning away from Pippin his eyes took in the rest of his companions. Frodo, Sam, and Merry had done what they could for the injured. Aragorn was lying on his stomach; his eyes were closed and with every breath, a shudder passed through his body. The three Hobbits had taken Frodo's cloak and like Gandalf had used it to bind Aragorn's back. The Ranger's back had been almost torn to shreds, the wounds were unlike anything the Hobbits had ever seen before. 

Legolas' arm had been bound with strips of Merry's cloak and the blood on his own back had been cleaned. He now lay on his side holding the injured arm to his bare chest, the poor Elf would be forced to go without a shirt for a few days but that was the least of their concerns. 

Gimli's shoulder had been wrapped in Sam's cloak (which they had cut in half with Frodo's sword) and now they were in the process of resetting the Dwarf's leg. Fortunately, the Hobbits had some experience in this area. Back when they were tweens, Bilbo had thought it necessary to teach Frodo and Merry how to treat more severe injuries besides cuts and scrapes. Using what he had learned during his adventures, the older Hobbit had instructed the two in setting broken bones. Neither had thought they'd ever have to actually do it.

While the two waited for Gimli to ready himself Gandalf turned his attention to Sam; the Hobbit was using the remains of his cloak to bind Boromir's numerous wounds. Seeing that Frodo and Merry had things under control, Gandalf moved over to help Sam. He'd just finished wrapping a strip of cloth around Boromir's left arm and was about to move on to his hand when Gandalf stopped him.
"I think it would be best if I bandaged his hand Samwise." 
Sam's face wrinkled in confusion but he didn't argue with him. He handed the remains of his torn cloak to Gandalf. The wizard took the cloak in one hand while inspecting Boromir's injury with the other. 

It didn't take much for him to see that Boromir's hand was broken; the moment Gandalf touched it the warrior hissed in pain. 
"I have to bind your hand Boromir, I cannot make a proper splint for it so you must try not to use your hand." 
Boromir nodded and did his best not to move while Gandalf wrapped his hand in the cloth. Gandalf didn't even want to think about the internal injuries Boromir was suffering through; he could only hope that the Gondorian would be able to hold out until they reached safety. A loud grunt told Gandalf that Frodo and Merry had done their job of resetting Gimli's leg, the Dwarf would have to make do without a splint as well.

Once he finished binding Boromir's hand Gandalf turned to face everyone.
"Get some rest, all of you. We leave at first light." 
"Where will we go?" Merry asked moving to sit beside his cousin.
"If I am right, this pass should take us to the woods of Lothlorien." Gandalf glanced at Gimli (who knew these mountains better than anyone) nodded his head.
"Aye, this is not the first time I have traveled here. Aragorn took me through this pass once and I have not forgotten it." 
"Then our path has been decided," Gandalf announced, "now rest. Allow your bodies a chance to heal."

"What about Saruman? You never told us what happened." Frodo stared at Gandalf, waiting for an answer."
"I will tell you everything once we have begun our journey. Now sleep." Gandalf settled himself on the floor of the cave. Watching until Frodo had laid down. All around him, the eight companions slept; some twitched in their sleep while another muttered something incoherent. Merry was sleeping beside Pippin, he did the most muttering out of everyone. Frodo and Sam were near the two, the Ringbearer tossing and turning. Aragorn barely moved, save for the occasional shudder that passed through his body.

Gimli and Boromir seemed to have the most trouble getting comfortable, but eventually, their movements stilled. There was one member who still remained awake, stubbornly fighting off sleep.
"Why are you not sleeping Legolas?" Gandalf noticed the Elf startle before lifting his head up, guilt in his eyes.
"I-I cannot sleep." Legolas' entire body was shaking, why was he so afraid?
"Legolas-" 
"I'm sorry Gandalf, I'll try harder to fall asleep." The Elf quickly rolled onto his side, his back facing Gandalf.

There was something wrong with him, but whatever it was Gandalf knew that he wouldn't be sharing it anytime soon. 
That Elf has one too many secrets.
Sighing Gandalf reclined against the wall of the cave, closing his tired eyes he allowed himself to fall into a restless sleep.

{}{}{}

The next morning found the company moving slowly through the mountain pass. Their going was far too slow for anyone's liking, but with their injuries, it couldn't be helped. Pippin was too weak to walk on his own, Aragorn was the only one who could carry him. Gimli had to be supported by Frodo and Merry while Sam moved back and forth between Boromir and Legolas, offering what help he could.

The cold mountain air didn't do much to help their progress; the wind chilled them to the bone and without their cloaks, it was a wonder that they hadn't frozen to death. Despite what Gandalf had said last night, he hadn't spoken a word about Saruman. When Frodo had pushed him for answers he'd responded with: "Now is not the time Frodo. Once we have reached Lothlorien I will explain everything."

If we make it that is, Frodo thought dryly. He'd tried to keep his spirits up, but one look at his friends only caused him to worry more. Pippin was by far the worst one off. Merry hardly took his eyes off of him, as if he feared Pippin would die if so much as blinked. 
"We must rest now," Gandalf called over the wind, "there is a space between the rocks here we can take shelter from the wind. Get in now, all of you."
Aragorn entered first, Pippin moaning softly in his arms. Boromir urged the three remaining hobbits to go in next and followed them in. Frodo could hear a scratchy, rasping sound coming from Boromir whenever he breathed. 

Legolas, Gimli, and Gandalf were the last to enter. It was a tight fit and there was hardly any room for the nine companions, but it was better than being exposed to the wind. Frodo shivered and huddled as close to Sam and Merry as he could. He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm his numb fingers. 

It was so cold...

Aragorn had his eyes closed, too tired to remain awake. Gandalf was doing what he could to shelter them from the wind but his attempts were in vain. Frodo found himself nodding off, but he dared not fall asleep. 
If I do, I may never wake up again...
Instead, he focused on warming his hands. Alternating between rubbing his right then his left. 
"Are you awake Frodo?" Gandalf's voice broke the silence, causing him to jump. Gandalf was looking down at him, snow caked onto his beard and robe. Glancing around their "shelter" Frodo found that everyone was asleep, leaning on each other and shivering. 

"I'm awake." Frodo's eyes widened at how hoarse his own voice was. Did Gandalf even hear him? 
"I was going to wait until we reached Lothlorien," Gandalf sighed, "but I feel as though I should tell you now what happened to me, and why I have been gone. You can tell the others once they awake." 
Frodo nodded, not wanting to aggravate his already sore throat. 
Taking a deep breath, Gandalf began. 

"As you already know, I journeyed to Isengard to seek Saruman's counsel regarding the ring. When I arrived, I told him everything that I knew about it, including where It was and where It was being taken to. I wish that I had been wise enough to sense that something was amiss. Saruman wanted to learn the name of the one who carried the ring, but that I did not share with him, only that he was a hobbit. It was then that Saruman convinced me that bringing the ring to Isengard was the best way to ensure that it stayed out of Sauron's hands. I wrote a message to you all and Saruman had Radagast deliver it to Rivendell. That was when I realized my mistake..."

Frodo swallowed a lump in his throat, but he let Gandalf continue.
"You must forgive me Frodo, for I was too blind to see Saruman's treachery before it was too late. A day after Radagast left Saruman revealed the truth to me. He had sided with Sauron, and wanted me to join him. I told him that he was mad, and that Sauron would only use him to get what he wanted, but he would not listen. He claimed that once he had the ring he could use it to overthrow Sauron and bring peace to Middle Earth, and gave me one last chance to join him. When I refused I attempted to escape, knowing that you and the others needed to be warned, but Saruman guessed my intentions and had me imprisoned at the top of his tower. I spent days trying to find a way off that miserable tower, watching as Saruman called a mass of orcs and many other fell creatures to him. He began to create an army, all the while waiting for the ring to be brought to him."

"How did you escape?" Frodo whispered.
"My friend, Gwaihir had arrived to bring word from Radagast, informing me that the message had been delivered. When he saw my distress I told him of Saruman's betrayal and he bore me away. I sought you out immediately, planning to warn you of what happened and lead you away from Isengard. Gwaihir brought me to the woods where we found the remains of your camp, I saw your discarded weapons and could only assume the worst. I asked Gwaihir to find Radagast and warn him of Saruman, then I set out to find you and the others. You know the story from there."

Frodo blinked once before turning away, his mind trying to make sense of everything. They had almost walked right into a trap, all because he had convinced them that it was the right thing to do. What if Gandalf hadn't found them and they were brought to Isengard? Saruman would have taken the ring, and they would have been killed. Sauron would've found It, and Middle Earth would have fallen.

"Listen to me Frodo, you are now in more danger than ever. Saruman will not stop hunting us, and neither will Sauron. Our enemies are everywhere, it is important that you trust no one except those who are with you now. Do you understand? Let no one else come near you, or It."

A hand closed around Frodo's heart, turning it into ice. The ring burned against his chest.
"Gandalf," he rasped, "I cannot do this. Please-" A fit of coughing cut him off. He buried his face into the crook of his arm, trying to stifle the sound. The sound caused Sam and Merry to stir, frost coating their hair and clothes.
"Mr. Frodo!" Sam's own voice was hoarse, barely rising above a whisper. 
"I- I'm alright." Frodo coughed once more to clear his throat. He looked up at Gandalf, the wizard's eyes were pained as he met Frodo's gaze.
"We should be moving on now," he said, "wake the others." 

{}{}{}{}

Are we going to die here? It wasn't the first time Frodo had asked himself that. As he stumbled forward, leaning on Sam for support, he began to wonder if dying would be as bad as he thought it would be.

He imagined laying down on the cold snow, closing his eyes and letting the cold air wrap him in its embrace. It was peaceful here, there was no sound save for the wind. Would it be wrong for him to lay down, and never get up again? He was almost tempted to do it, and why shouldn't he? Perhaps if he laid down, the others would follow him, then they could fall asleep with him.

Yes...
Why shouldn't they all just fall asleep? Wouldn't that be so much easier than trying to reach this place Gandalf kept talking about?

A voice snapped Frodo out of his trance, a voice that he hadn't heard in days, calling out in excitement.
"I can see the end of the pass!" Legolas pointed ahead, his eyes shining with excitement. "We're almost there! We've nearly made it out!"
Frodo lifted his head and looked where Legolas was pointing, though he couldn't see the end, Legolas' words had filled his heart with hope. 

We can make it...
Frodo turned to Sam and smiled. "We can make it."
His friend returned his smile, nodding in determination. Hope was kindled in their hearts, strength returned to their weary bodies as they started forward once again. 
We will not die, not here not now.

It wasn't long before Frodo could see the end of the pass. He could also see sunlight, beautiful sunlight. 
We're almost there!
Something screamed at the back of Frodo's mind, a warning that came too late as something slammed into his back.

"Frodo!" Sam screamed, watching as his friend fell, an arrow protruding from his back. The others turned around, immediately surrounding the hobbits. 
"Did you honestly think that you could escape Mithrandir?" Saruman shook his head in disappointment as he approached. Behind him stood Thilald, and twenty other men, all armed and eager to kill.

Gandalf gripped his staff and took a step forward, anger flashing in his eyes. 
"You will not have them Saruman!" 
"Why do you insist on saving them? They are all near death, and you are weak. If you were wise you would abandon them and save yourself. What concern is it of yours whether they live or die?"

"Frodo? Please wake up." Sam whispered, tears falling from his eyes. Merry was inspecting the arrow, pausing for a brief moment to glare at Saruman and the men who were with him. It wasn't long before Saruman began speaking again.
"I will offer you one more chance Mithrandir, surrender yourself and the ring, and I promise that none of your companions will be harmed. In fact, I will see to it myself that they receive the care they need to recover. Surely, my friend, you will do whatever it takes to save them, or am I wrong to have assumed that you actually cared about them?"

Frodo moaned, his eyes opened.
Pain...
So much pain...

Saruman chuckled at seeing their distress over the fallen hobbit. Then he held something out, a sword. 
Aragorn flinched as if he had been slapped, he nearly dropped Pippin and would have if Boromir hadn't been there to steady him.
"Is this your sword Ranger? " Saruman asked, his pleasure all too evident. "It is a nice blade, one that I never thought to see with my own eyes." The wizard's eyes narrowed, reminding Aragorn of a snake.

"I will give you an opportunity now, hand yourself over, along with the halfling who carries the ring, and all of you will live. Refuse and they will all die, and you alone will live to remember their deaths, knowing that you had a chance to save your friends and didn't. Now choose." 
Aragorn's legs trembled, Boromir was doing what he could to hold him upright. 
"Don't listen to him Aragorn," He whispered shooting a dark glare at the wizard. 

Frodo was struggling to sit up, despite Sam and Merry's quiet protests. Legolas knelt down beside him, gently pushing him back down with his good hand.
"You must stay still," Legolas murmured, "I will try to remove the arrow." 
Gimli stood in front of them, keeping his eyes locked on Saruman while Legolas worked. 
"Time is running out Ranger," Saruman growled, "make your choice before it is made for you." 
Aragorn's heart was pounding, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He couldn't speak, could barely think.

Frodo gritted his teeth as the arrow in his back was moved. Sam held his hand, trying to offer what comfort he could. Merry was watching Legolas, his eyes widened when he noticed something odd about the arrow. 
"It's not in his skin," Merry whispered. Legolas' own eyes widened. Merry was right, the arrow wasn't in Frodo's skin, nor was there any blood.
How?

"Your time is up." Saruman raised his staff, pointing it at Gandalf. "He will die first."
Before anyone could move, the ground began to shake, causing several of Thilald's men to be thrown off balance. The eight companions huddled together, turning to Gandalf in fear as the mountainside began to crumble.
"Run!" Gandalf roared raising his staff over his head. "All of you run!" 
Legolas scooped up Frodo, tearing his makeshift bandage and running. Gimli ushered Sam and Merry in front of him, all three looking over their shoulders as they ran. Boromir ushered Aragorn forward, helping him keep his balance as the ground beneath them shook.

Several of Thilald's men were fleeing, those who remained dropped to their knees, watching the crumbling mountainside in fear.
Only Gandalf remained still, his voice echoed throughout the pass, chanting in an unknown tongue as the mountain came crashing down. 

"Stop!" Frodo shouted, looking over Legolas' shoulder. "We can't leave him! Turn back!" The eight friend stopped, turning around they watched in terror as massive rocks fell from the mountain, some crushing the fleeing men and other falling too close to Gandalf. Frodo was in a panic. He tried to push himself out of Legolas' arms but the elf was too strong, even in his weakened state. 

Gandalf's chanting ceased. The mountain continued to crash down all around him, he was hunched over, exhausted. He turned around and met Frodo's gaze, briefly causing the hobbit to cease his struggle. Gandalf opened his mouth, as if he were about to say something, but he would never get the chance.

"NO!" Frodo screamed, watching as Saruman plunged his sword into Gandalf's chest. He yanked the sword out, watching silently as the body fell. The eight friends could only watch, frozen where they stood. Saruman's eyes burned into theirs, daring them to retaliate. 
"We have run!" Boromir shouted grabbing Aragorn and dragging him forward. The pass was still caving in, if they stayed they would be buried alive, and Gandalf's death would be for nothing.

They ran, as fast as they could go without falling. The earth shook underneath them, massive boulders crashed down on all sides. Frodo saw none of this. All he could see was Gandalf's body, lying on the cold ground. He watched as Saruman turned his back, walking away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Another scream tore itself from his throat as the body was buried underneath the falling mountain.

Frodo buried his face into Legolas' shoulder, his sobs only grew louder as they fled from the pass. Legolas stumbled to his knees, wrapping his arms around Frodo and letting his own tears fall. Sam was on his hands in knees, his forehead pressed against the ground, his small body shaking as he cried. Merry stood beside him in a daze, groping blindly for something to lean against. Gimli managed to catch him just before he fell, his own cries of grief adding to those of his friends. 

Boromir was with Aragorn, he now held Pippin in his arms. Tears of anger fell from his eyes, he hung his head and fought back a cry of grief, not wanting to disturb Pippin. Aragorn alone remained silent, with no tears in his eyes. He stared at the fallen mountain pass, in his mind he saw Gandalf's death play over and over again. He'd been murdered by his own sword, his own weapon. He hadn't tried to save him...

His gaze swept over his friends. None of their hurts, none of their wounds, could compare to the blow they had just received. As one they mourned, hearts broken and grieved. 
He saw Legolas holding Frodo, the elf no longer wept, though tears still fell from dull eyes. 
"Legolas," he called, "get them up." 
Legolas lifted his head, he didn't want to, but he obeyed. Rising to his feet, still holding Frodo who lay limply in his arms. 

"Give them a moment for pity's sake!" Boromir shouted, his eyes burning into Aragorn.
"We are still wounded Boromir! If we stay we will die and his death would have been for nothing! Is that what you want?!" 
Boromir said nothing. Instead, he turned away from him, and Aragorn immediately wished that he had held his tongue.

Legolas had finally gathered the others, all were in a daze, no one meeting the other's eye. Aragorn looked at Frodo, who remained still in the elf's arms, then at Legolas. 
"He is mourning," Legolas whispered. Aragorn nodded before addressing the others. 
"Lothlorien is not far from here, it is where Gandalf planned on leading us." No one said a word, what was there to say?

Silently, Aragorn turned his back and led them forward. Without looking back the others followed, leaving their friend behind to the cold.