Their path upward steadily grew colder, their walking became more laborious as they trudged through the deep snow, and the air thinned—making breathing difficult. Sam tugged and pulled poor old Bill through the white slush.

Rowan did nothing but berate herself for not warning them about the crebains. If she had, maybe the stupid birds wouldn't be carrying news about their passage back to Saruman, and they could've remained in the mild temperatures instead of this frigid tundra. She knew what would happen this way, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise—not knowing what events would transpire on the original path would've ruined her 'having foresight' story.

That was it; she'd keep the storyline as close to the book as possible, so she still knew what to expect. Hopefully, her plans wouldn't change too much of the quest...

Snowflakes drifting out of the gray sky stuck to her eyelashes; she wiped them clear to look around. The snow wasn't so deep the hobbits couldn't walk and they could camp behind the boulders for windbreaks.

"Gandalf, we should camp here," she called to the wizard at the head of the group. He turned to look at her. "There's a snowstorm ahead, but it's not natural; it's made by Saruman."

He looked back ahead in consideration.

"If Saruman knows where we are, he will hold off the storm until we pass," Legolas said.

"The elf holds truth in his words," Gimli said. Legolas cut his eyes at him.

"Resting now and recovering our strength may be vital," Gandalf said when he turned back around. "We will do as you instruct, Rowan."

They moved off from the snowy path they forged and made camp on the slabs of rock protected by boulders; Bill was arranged where he blocked even more wind. The hobbits expressed their gratitude for the rest visibly; the men and dwarf weren't as vocal. Food again was cold because Gandalf did not want to risk a fire.

Night fell quickly up on the mountain and as the others prepared for sleep by wrapping up in their cloaks, the wizard requested Rowan to join him on the watch. He asked her to explain what she 'saw'; remembering Lord Elrond's warning, she remained vague in case someone overheard: an avalanche caused by Saruman buries the Company. And even if they escaped being trapped, the Fellowship must pass through the Mines of Moria.

Color drained from his cheeks. "The Mines? Truly?"

"I know what you fear there, but you will conquer it, Gandalf. I will help you as well."

After their talk tapered off, Gandalf told her she should sleep—he didn't require as much as a mortal.

Rowan did as he said: wrapping up tight in her cloak and practically laying nose-to-wall so the wind couldn't reach her. Her worry about tomorrow kept her awake. Legolas was right: Saruman probably would wait until they showed to trap them in the storm.

Something would happen tomorrow, and she desperately hoped it wasn't the avalanche. She didn't like snow and she was claustrophobic...

***

Come morning, they set back on making a snowy path with far more vigor. With Rowan's warning, the Company was on the lookout for changing weather. They walked quite a way unhindered before the sky darkened and the wind picked up as lightning cracked in the sky.

In the front, Gandalf chanted with his staff raised, combating Saruman's spells. Aragorn and Boromir walked behind him, clearing out a path for Gimli and the hobbits; she trailed Frodo—even though a little shorter than Boromir, she lacked the men's strength and weight, so she couldn't be a bulldozer. Legolas walked behind them, on top of the snow.

Eventually, the snow grew so deep the hobbits and Gimli couldn't walk—the frigid piles of white reached their noses. Boromir and Aragorn picked up two hobbits each to carry them; with unhappy resignation, the dwarf climbed up onto Bill and Rowan pulled him through the snow.

Their steady advancement slowed as the storm worsened into a blizzard where they could hardly see the other, energy depleted as the cold seeped into their muscles, and the snow continued to grow higher. The cold had numbed everything in Rowan. She just wanted to sleep.

As they neared a corner, Gandalf stopped and turned; he instructed the two men to set down the hobbits and Gimli to dismount Bill and huddle with them. The wizard then handed around a small flask of what he called mirurvor—Elrond had given it to him; he said for everyone to partake.

When Rowan got it, she found the flask warm—from the inside—and the open cork emitted a nice fragrant. Taking a small sip, warmth ran down her throat to her toes; determination and energy replaced her drowsiness. She handed the liquid to Legolas, amazed at the revival of her body and her spirit.

They took a moment to rest and let the wondrous fluid warm their bodies. Rowan pulled her cloak around her as she sat beside the hobbits and dwarf behind Bill.

"If Gandalf would go before us with a bright flame, he might melt a path for you," Legolas said.

"If elves could fly over mountains, they might fetch the sun to save us," Gandalf retorted.

"Well," Boromir began, "when heads are at a loss, bodies must serve."

"Then let us force a path," Aragorn said.

The elf stayed by Rowan, Gimli, and the hobbits as they watched a revived Aragorn and Boromir trying to wade through the snow.

"Rowan, you are right," Legolas began; she looked at him with confusion. "There is a fell voice on the air. I thought you were mistaken when you mentioned this. I must apologize for doubting you."

"Oh, well, you don't have to. I know it's hard to believe a mortal has foresight."

He watched the men disappear, then he turned to them.

"The strongest must seek a way, say you? But I say: let a plowman plow, but choose an otter for swimming, and for running light over grass and leaf, or over snow—an elf."

With unbelievable lightness, Legolas jumped out of the hole the snow falling around him had made and onto the smooth piles. Rowan was envious of him not looking cold at all.

"I'm off to fetch the sun," he said as he passed Gandalf and disappeared into the blizzard.

They sat waiting for the elf or the men to return. The mirurvor kept Rowan warm, but she still felt the biting sting of the powerful gusts, freezing snow, and frigid temperature on her skin. She had drawn her legs into her and now placed her face down, hoping to warm her red and numb nose.

The crash of lightning striking close to them, followed by a loud roar, snapped her head up in familiarity. Above them, a load of snow, broken from the cliff by the lightning strike, fell toward them for an avalanche.

"Gandalf!" she screamed.

He stepped out from the rock face with his staff raised and shouted foreign words. The avalanche struck an invisible barrier over them and slid off. When the snow stopped falling, Gandalf lowered his staff.

He turned to their gaping faces. "Thank you, Rowan, for informing me of that possibility. I had a spell waiting."

They didn't have to wait too much longer before Legolas, Aragorn, and Boromir returned. The elf did not find the sun, but the dense storm ended around the corner. The two men picked up the hobbits again, Gimli clambered up Bill, and they set out, renewed at knowing the storm's end was near.

Another flash of lightning lit up the sky.

"Enough!" Gimli yelled. "We are departing as quickly as we can!"

Caradhras answered him with a deep rumbling—glad that they were leaving.