AVALANCHE

Chapter 2 --- Holding On

Frodo didn't want to wake up yet, but it was so cold and someone kept yelling at him. Why was it so cold? Had the fire gone out? The Elves in Rivendell were so diligent about keeping his room warm at night... More wood on the fire, he thought groggily, and then back to sleep... he slowly opened his eyes. So dark, what... suddenly Frodo gasped in shock and inhaled a mouthful of snow. He realized he was lying on his stomach, covered in snow, his left side jammed up against a smooth wall of rock. Coughing and spluttering, he managed to raise his head a bit. The few inches of snow covering his head fell away as he blinked hazily in the bright light and tried to understand what had happened. He lay his head back down in the snow for a minute, suddenly dizzy. His head hurt. It would be so easy just to go back to sleep, but some part of him knew he'd better not.

Frodo tried to brace himself against the rock and sit up, but as he moved, a sharp pain shot through his left wrist and he choked back a scream. He lay still for a moment, frightened. He tried moving his right hand, relieved that at least there was no pain. Was he caught on something? His mind seemed wrapped in a fog, and it was almost a full minute before he realized that the fingers of his right hand were curled tightly in something soft and yielding under the snow. A scarf. Pippin's scarf.

Frodo pulled desperately at the scarf, then harder. Suddenly the mound of snow to his right moved slightly and he almost sobbed in relief. His thoughts started to drift a little and he fought to think straight and stay conscious. He tried to piece together what had happened. Apparently the snow had slammed him into the boulder with Pippin right behind him. The boulder, the boulder that he had seen from the ledge... With a pang of fear Frodo suddenly realized where they were.

The end of the scarf moved on its own, away from his fingers, and he let it go as Pippin slowly shook off the pile of snow covering him, coughing. Very slowly and carefully, trying to ignore the pain and growing dizziness, Frodo managed to sit up and lean back against the boulder, cradling his left arm in his lap. His lower body was still partially covered in snow, but he could move his legs and feet so he knew they weren't injured. One thing he didn't have to check was the Ring. He knew it was still there. He'd know if it was gone.

Frodo watched anxiously as Pippin made it to his knees. "Pip, are you all right?"

Pippin sat down heavily, staring at Frodo in confusion. "What are we doing here?"

Frodo took a deep breath, trying to stay focused. "I think some snow came down from the top, and pushed us down here." He took another deep breath, afraid he was about to faint. "Come here, Pip, slowly. Sit next to me."

"Frodo, you're so pale," Pippin said anxiously, still a bit disoriented. "Let's just go back, why can't we just---" He was standing up shakily, his eyes starting to take in their surroundings.

Someone was yelling again, but Frodo kept his eyes locked on his cousin. "Pip, look at me," he said urgently. "Don't look around, Pippin, look at me!"

But it was too late. Pippin was looking past the boulder, to the edge, to... They were only a few feet from the edge! He gasped as their situation hit him full force, his thoughts starting to tumble and scatter. They had almost... they could still... just a few feet and... Pippin's face turned ashen and he felt that he suddenly couldn't breathe. Dropping back down to his knees, he lunged convulsively at Frodo and grabbed him, desperately needing something solid to hold onto. He started to shake, tightening his grip on Frodo's jacket. They had almost... they could still... don't move, don't move, don't move...

"Pippin!" Frodo flung his good arm around his cousin's trembling form and pulled him close, careful of his throbbing arm. Dimly he heard more yelling, heard his name. Frodo knew he should look up, he should answer, but he could barely keep his eyes open. He was so cold, so tired, but he had to stay awake and hold onto Pippin. He had to hold on.

*~*~*~*~*

"Frodo!" Sam had screamed a second time before Aragorn's hand clamped over his mouth.

"Wait, Sam," said Ranger quietly. He looked at Legolas, who was listening intently. "Anything?"

The Elf shook his head. "Nothing. That sound has stopped completely. I believe we are safe for the moment."

"Let's get down there!" Merry was practically in tears. "It's not far, we have to search for them!"

"We will, Merry. We have to---"

"Wait, what is that?" Legolas was peering down the slope to the base of the largest boulder, where a dark shape had just appeared in the snow. "Frodo," he said with a smile.

"Where?" Sam lunged forward. "Is he all right?"

"Pippin," Legolas murmured after a few minutes, watching the scene below him intently. Gimli, Boromir, and Gandalf were standing just behind him, and a hobbit was on either side of him. They watched as Pippin stood up, then seemed to fall back down. Legolas was taking in every detail with his keener sight.

"Pippin!" yelled Merry. "Pippin, can you hear me?"

Legolas spoke again. "I believe Frodo is hurt. Pippin is..." he shook his head. "It is difficult to say. They are very close to the edge of the cliff, Aragorn." He looked at the Ranger grimly. "Very close."

"No rope," Sam muttered to himself. "What else can we..." his voice trailed off as he dashed back to the gear, pulling out every blanket he could find. "Gimli, help me!"

"I will run down there," Legolas continued, "but this slope looks a bit steep and unstable for anyone else to risk it. If one or both are hurt I will have to bring them up separately. I need to go now, their position is precarious, to say the least and they will get very cold as the sun starts to go down."

"I've a better idea." Sam burst into their midst, throwing down a pile of blankets with more trailing behind him. "We're knotting 'em together. Begging your pardon, sir, but you can use this like a rope, it should be plenty long enough. You can hold onto both of them and we can pull all of you up here together. Please!" He looked imploringly at Legolas.

Aragorn knelt and tested several of the knots, finding them sound. He looked at the hobbit and smiled. "This is perfect, Sam." He got to his feet and immediately tied the end of the first blanket to Legolas' belt. As soon as the makeshift "rope" was finished, he found the other end and held it. "Go!" he said to Legolas.

As the Elf started to run lightly down the slope trailing the rope of blankets behind him, Sam kept his eye on the two hobbits huddled at the base of the boulder. "Frodo!" he screamed again. Anxiously he looked up at Gandalf. "Don't they hear us?" The wizard patted Sam's shoulder comfortingly, but had no answer.

** TBC **