Disclaimer: I don't own any recognisable cannon characters, places etc. They all belong to Tolkien's estate.
A/N: This fic is dedicated to Eruraina (Elven Warrior Princess). I hope you like it, Raina, and happy birthday!
A/N 2: I ummed and arred about which category to put this in. I even had to ask for my mum's opinion. But yeah, considering that all the cannon characters are on the LotR list and only one is on the Silmarillion list, this is going in LotR. ^^ I know it's set closer to The Silmarillion times but it isn't really a Silmarillion story. well I don't think it is anyway.
Erestor stood in the courtyard of Gil-Galad's palace looking up at the sky. The white clouds that had been gathering for the past few days were now relieving themselves of their heavy load; snow. And it was early, very early. It fell lightly at first, the small flakes covering the outside world like sugar icing. But after a few hours the flakes became larger, large enough for six of them to completely cover the palms of the Elves who stood outside in the blizzard. The scribe and unofficial advisor to Elrond laughed and held his hands up to the skies. He may have been a respectable adult but snow filled him with joy as much as it did the elflings who played in it in the city beyond the palace's walls.
"Erestor!"
The advisor turned back to the palace to see Master Elrond running out from the veranda, his foot falls leaving barely a mark on the soft snow. A silly grin was plastered over his face too,
"This is fantastic!" He exclaimed as he drew level with his friend. Erestor started laughing and a flurry of snow promptly blew into his open mouth making him splutter. Elrond pursed his lips to annoy Erestor further, which earned him a snowball on the shoulder. All pretence of adult restraint melted away as a long and slightly too serious snowball fight ensued, stopping only when Gil-Galad leant out of his 2nd floor office window and called Elrond up. Sulking slightly, the two Elves made their way inside, stamping the snow off their boots on the threshold and dusting the powder off their clothes. And they closed and locked the door they'd come through the blizzard was still going strong.
"It must be pretty deep out there by now," Erestor remarked as they traipsed up the carpeted staircases and looked out of every window they could. In all of the east facing ones, snow was collecting on the sill and working its way up the pane. "And there's no sign of its stopping."
Elrond shook his head, "I imagine they're counting the stores of food and wine as quickly as they can in the cellars." Erestor started smiling, "What?"
"Look at us!" He exclaimed, lifting his arms up as he spoke. Elrond's mouth curled upwards too, "We look like a nice pair of drowned rats!"
"It's kind of scary really how much water comes from so few snowflakes."
By now they were walking along the corridor of Gil-Galad's office. The Elvenking poked his head round the door as he heard them approach and waved them in. They weren't the only visitors there. It took Elrond a while to recognise the other Elf, still young yet older than he, standing quietly in a corner nursing a nasty bruise on one temple. He had changed a lot since he'd gone to Hollin to try and learn the craft of metal working; he was wiser, more sure of himself and more muscular. But his eyes still had that darting edge of nervous energy and his hair was that distinctive reddish flaxen colour. He looked at Erestor and Elrond sheepishly. Gil-Galad looked from him to the two dark haired Elves. Erestor licked his lips and approached the recently arrived Elf hand extended,
"Welcome back, Avorn."
Avorn smiled nervously and shook the proffered hand, "It's good to be back, Erestor."
"Don't tell me the snow drove you back?"
"Nay, meldir, I left well before the snow came. My apprenticeship was very basic, just a decade."
Erestor laughed, "So can you now make wonderful buckles to go with the exquisite shoes?"
Avorn nodded, "And rings, pendants, brooches, that sort of thing."
Erestor nodded and an awkward silence descended. From behind his friend, Elrond waved his welcome and Avorn smiled and nodded back. The stiltedness all round was hardly surprising; it wasn't that Avorn wasn't well liked here – quite the opposite in fact – but even for Elves ten years was a long time. The only time all four of them had been together during Avorn's apprenticeship was when they all went to Greenwood for Thranduil and Míriel's wedding the previous spring, and they had only stayed there for a few weeks. After a while, Gil-Galad turned to Avorn,
"Tell them how you got that bruise."
Avorn lifted the damp cloth off his temple, the skin underneath was broken and a sickening shade of purple. He folded the cloth back on itself and applied the fresh side to the injury, "The snow's covered all the north of Arda. If you think it's bad here you should see the coverage on the Blue Mountains. In some places it's as deep as two men and snow was still falling when I left the foothills behind. I fear it is even deeper over the Misty Mountains."
Erestor and Elrond looked at each other in shock; snow that deep was common in mid winter but autumn was barely over. They wondered how many travellers were now stranded for the foreseeable future.
"The mountains were just about impassable when I crossed them. Not even the Eagles are flying over them because of the blizzards," Avorn continued, "I must have caused dozens of avalanches-"
"And you were caught up in one by the looks of things," Elrond interrupted.
"Mae," Avorn said, sheepishly, "the last one I cased, on the foothills. I rode over an overhang which gave way. I lost my horse and cracked my head on a rock." Elrond winced audibly. Avorn smiled, "Mae, the snow round about was rather red when I finally pulled myself out. Everything went black for a long while but somehow I got myself here."
"You have already proved that you are made of tough stuff, Master Avorn," Gil-Galad said, kindly.
"I wish I could stop proving it."
"We'll have to ration out provisions, I fear," Gil-Galad continued, "This snow may well be here for a long while. Erestor, I put you in charge of that." Erestor bowed.
Silence descended again as footsteps approached the office. Erestor straightened up and Gil-Galad sat down in the chair behind his desk, "About time!" He exclaimed, "I was wondering when he'd get here.
"Minno!"
Through the still open door stepped the last person any of them, bar Gil-Galad, expected to see.
"They found you, I see," Gil-Galad said, kindly, "I doubt they expected you to be in the depths of the library."
"When did you get here? And where have you been?" Erestor exclaimed.
"About a week ago," Gil-Galad answered on Thranduil's behalf, "And I do apologise; I forbade him from socialising before he sorted out some documents for me." He turned back to the prince, "Are they sorted now?"
"Yes, my lord, and may I say that half of your current documents were dangerously out of date?"
Gil-Galad laughed, "You may indeed, and thank you for sorting them out for me."
Thranduil shrugged, "That's what you asked me to do in your letter."
Erestor, Elrond and, to a certain extent, Avorn watched the calm exchange nervously. Usually the king and the prince were at each other's throats tooth and nail. The three of them were too busy wondering at the civilities to notice what Thranduil was wearing but Gil-Galad did and he felt one of those rare pangs of sympathy for the Sinda. Thranduil was dressed for travelling. His heavy woollen cloak was fastened round his neck with his equally heavy emerald brooch. His battered leather satchel was full of everything he'd brought in it. Gil-Galad's pitying expression slowly filtered through and his own one of satisfaction at a job well done began to falter.
"Are you..." Gil-Galad trailed off.
"Going home? Aye. My work here is done and, much as I love the three of you," he nodded towards Erestor and Elrond and then turned and nodded at Avorn, "right now I'd like to spend as little time away from home as possible." The three lords shared a look of stupid realisation; Thranduil was still on a high from the marriage. Gil-Galad closed his eyes slowly and leant back in his chair. He breathed in and out slowly; Thranduil became more nervous.
"I'm sorry, penneth."
Thranduil looked between the four of them, blinking and bemused, "Why? What for?" There was an edge of panic in his voice now.
"You can't go home yet."
Thranduil snorted, "I don't see why! I have done what you wanted and now I wish to return home before the passes close."
"Have you looked outside?"
"Of course! But a little early snow isn't going to hold me up. It's too early for anything substantial."
Thranduil's enforced optimism was heartbreaking, especially seeing as he usually had a 'half-empty' outlook on life. Gil-Galad couldn't look him in the eye, "Avorn, would you care to explain?" Thranduil turned his now outwardly distressed countenance on Avorn who cringed and looked at the floor,
"This isn't just an 'early snow-snowfall'. The... the blizzard has blocked the passes over the Blue Mountains," he stammered, "and... and the Misty Mountains are almost certainly im-impassable. Not... not even the Eagles are flying over. The snow's falling too... heavily."
Thranduil looked like he'd been hit. He stood there immobile for what seemed like an age. But slowly he turned back to Gil-Galad, seemingly on the verge of tears. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat but was unable to,
"W-w-what do you propose I do, my lord?"
"With great care, one might traverse one mountain range in conditions such as these," Gil-Galad said slowly, "but two is sheer madness."
Thranduil, suddenly mobile again, marched across the short stretch of floor between him and Gil-Galad and slammed both hands down on the desk. He bowed his head as he tried to control his expression but Gil-Galad could see he was trembling.
"Nothing will be moving until the snow thaws somewhat," Gil-Galad continued, watching the Sinda carefully. Normally he would have boxed the blonde's ears long ago but he knew Thranduil was in great distress now. "Therefore I suggest we have one of best guest rooms made up and you stay here for the time being."
A drop splashed on the leather tacked to the top of the desk but when Thranduil looked up at him there was little evidence to show that he was actually crying, "That isn't an option, my lord."
Gil-Galad waited a while before speaking to show he had heard Thranduil's rebuke, "The first thing to do is write to your father and wife and let them know the situation," he stood up and paced up and down a little in front of the window. Snow was slowly yet surely creeping higher and higher up the other side of the glass. Erestor, Elrond and Avorn remained motionless, not daring to speak. "We don't want them worrying now, do we?" Gil-Galad continued. "And we'll send a messenger bird as soon as there's a weather window." Thranduil didn't move so Gil-Galad, feeling strangely fatherly towards his usual scratching post, placed a hand on Thranduil's shoulder. "Come now, it's not that bad! Many people got married just before the wars and never saw their spouse again. I imagine a long separation during the first year is a very trying time but things could be worse!"
Thranduil threw the hand off his back and whipped round to look Gil-Galad in the eye. The Sinda couldn't hold his fury at nature back any longer, "I know it could be worse!" He screamed. Gil-Galad took a small step back and raised an eyebrow at the prince. Thranduil looked around at the others, breathing heavily as he fought to hide the extent of his feelings, "And with all due respect, Sir, you can't even begin to imagine how hard the mere suggestion of spending months away from her is to bear. And as soon as there's a 'weather window' I'll be off so you'd better send the letter sooner than that, sire."
Gil-Galad shook his head slowly, "You shan't be going anywhere until I am satisfied that the passes are safe again. That's the problem with you and your father; you're too headstrong. Mind it isn't the death of you."
"It won't be!" Thranduil hissed, but controlled his voice better when he added, "But I am still leaving as soon as I can."
"You are leaving on my say so," Gil-Galad repeated, calmly.
Something clicked in Thranduil's brain and his eyes went icy, their depths bordering on savage. He stared at Gil-Galad for a few moments and then flew out of the room like a whirlwind before he ruined the good will between the two usual rivals. Gil-Galad and his lords watched the corridor beyond the door for a long while after.
"Do you think the snow will thaw in the near future?" Erestor asked.
"No," Elrond said with great confidence, "this is the start of a long winter."