Untitled - BoG-Archive

Several hours later, Boromir sat huddled in his cloak in the dark, shivering
and breathing on his hands. The wind here never stopped, and the snow it blew
against his face pricked like little knives. Three days before, in the gentle breezes
and comparable warmth on the knees of the mountain, he could not have
imagined being so miserable. This was a cold beyond the winters he had known.
But he had to endure it. He sat without moving: Faramir was curled up asleep
against him, sharing his warmth. They had deemed it too dangerous for them
both to sleep in this cold after their first dreadful error. So here he sat, through
half the long night. The darkness was not complete; the moon was still in the sky,
and the snow reflected its silver light, but it did him little good. All that he could
see by it was the blowing whiteness and the darkness of the rock they sheltered
near.
More than half the night actually passed before he woke his brother.
Faramir had been sleeping so soundly, it had seemed a shame to wake him, and
he had waited until he felt he could not last another minute. As soon as Faramir
had assured him several times that he was fully awake, Boromir fell quickly
asleep.
He woke in the first light of morning to find Faramir smiling at him oddly.
“What is it?” he said, stretching and rubbing at his eyes.
“You would not believe what I saw in the darkness, perhaps an hour ago,”
Faramir said.
Boromir looked around worriedly—what could be wandering here? There
were, he had heard, some wolves and other beasts that didn’t mind the cold, and
would even hunt at the mountain peaks, though what they hoped to catch aside
from snow-hares, he wasn’t sure. “What did you see?”
“Daeron and Hador. They are apparently quite determined not to be the
last to make it across the mountain.”
“They were walking at night?” Boromir asked in disbelief.
Faramir nodded. “They claimed they had only just started, and must have
only camped a little way behind us.”
“Well. Then we had better get going also. A race is what they will have, if
they want it!” Boromir said, grinning and getting to his feet.
As they started off again, there was a new peak before them. This time
there was no mistaking it; it was the final summit, and it loomed above them,
jutting into the clouds. A cliff a little ways up could be seen to skirt it and pass
over to the other side. In the crisp morning air it seemed like only a short jaunt
would take them to it.
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