𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 || 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐁 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊

sɪx

They continued on towards the mountain range Robb had been trying to reach prior to meeting this fellowship.

Robb had seen mountains before, of course, in the Westerlands-but they had not nearly been as tall as these. The Misty Mountains, they were called according to Strider. The company would be trying to cross the Redhorn Pass on the mountain called Caradhras.

Robb was still a bit confused by all the place names-apparently, Caradhras and Redhorn were names for one and the same mountain, but Legolas and Strider seemed to prefer the former while Boromir only ever used the latter. Gimli, on the other hand, could be overheard using an entirely different name that Robb couldn't even understand, let alone spell.

Robb supposed that elves, dwarves and men each had their own language and thus different terms for one and the same things. That did not, however, help him when he was trying to follow a conversation. Nor did it explain why Strider-a man, as far as Robb could tell-used elvish terms while Boromir did not.

What confused him even more was that Strider had various names. His real one was apparently Aragorn, which was what Frodo had called him during supper on Robb's second day with them.

He supposed Strider was a nickname, like Kingslayer for Jaime Lannister or Robb's own, the Young Wolf. Robb could have dealt with that, but people in his own world usually had only one nickname, not half a dozen, as it was the case for Aragorn.
Legolas occasionally called him Estel, and Boromir, whom Robb still tried to avoid without coming across as rude, sometimes referred to him as Thorongil.

But Robb listened and he learned and soon the confusion-while still present-gave way to acceptance. He might not have known exactly why all those different names existed, but he knew they did and he mostly knew what they meant and so Robb dealt with it.

The closer they got to the mountains, the colder it became and Robb relished in that. Finally, the weather started to resemble that of his home.
Three days after Robb had joined them, their company reached the foot of the Caradhras. They made camp there in the evening to rest their feet. The plan was to cross the Redhorn Pass that night to stay unnoticed.
Even though Robb had little idea of what exactly their mission was beyond destroying Sauron's most important weapon, he saw the sense in this mission staying secret and did not complain.

Once they had eaten something and rested for a few hours-the climb promised to be an exhausting one-they started their ascent.

At first, it was little hardship and Robb felt happier than he had in a long time when they finally got high enough that the ground was covered in snow. He breathed in the cold air and closed his eyes halfway, listening to the snow crunching under his boots.
His smile widened further when he felt the cold but gentle sensation of snowflakes landing on his cheeks.

A commotion behind him made Robb turn around. Apparently, Frodo had slipped on something, lost his balance and tumbled back down several metres, only to come to a stop at Aragorn's feet.

Picking himself back up, Frodo patted at his chest, only to have his eyes grow wide in panic. Robb was confused. Had he lost something?

Whatever it was, Boromir seemed to have found it. It looked like a small necklace with a ring on it.

And really, from what Robb could see, the ring was quite beautiful. It was only a simple band of gold with no further adornments, but it was that simplicity that drew Robb in. It was enticing, truly.

Underneath his awe, however, Robb started to feel sick. He didn't know where that came from; he had felt fine up until now-but he did know he was about to throw up.

"Boromir!"

Aragorn's shout drew Robb's attention away from the ring as Boromir gave the necklace back to Frodo.