Summary: The wile of the mountain extends only so far.

AN: This is all fluff. Written in honor of our first big snow of the season. We got some six inches of perfect fluffy snow.

The events in this story take place around the Third Age 110; soon after Elrond's wedding, and after the Last Alliance, when there was relative peace. And, I'm making the assumption that Glorfindel had never traveled across the paths of Caradhras. I'm not saying he's never been across the Misty Mountains, just never across Caradhras.

To let everyone know, there is no slash or romance at all contained in this story.

Enjoy.


He was feeling sore and tired. Not to mention he was beginning to feel slightly chilled. He had thought, at the beginning of the trip, Caradhras had not earned her name.

Glorfindel was not one to easily admit defeat. But this mountain had taken every last reserve of pride. This was the first time he had traveled across the paths of Caradhras. And he desperately wished it would be his last.

It was supposed to be an ordinary trip. Never trust Elrond's sense of 'ordinary'. Elrond had summoned him, and given him a message to be given to the Lady Galadriel; who just happened to be Elrond's recent mother-in-law. Glorfindel wondered if that had anything to do with himself being sent. There was no reason Elrond couldn't just send the message with a carrier-boy!

But no! Elrond said the pass wouldn't be difficult at this time of year. Ha!

He eyed his four equally dismal companions, all of whom he was fairly well acquainted with. They seemed to be faring only slightly better. The 'slightly better' burned at Glorfindel's pride. After all, did they have a reason to have an advantage over this Valar-forsaken chunk of rock? Over the mountain they called Cruel Caradhras?

As the assigned leader of the journey, though not because of age or experience, Glorfindel felt a prickle of shame.

He carefully watched his companions to search for their advantage. Daeron and Tirithon, brothers and both seasoned veterans, led the way, and never seemed affected by the wind. Verya, a friend of his from many years ago, seemed agile as ever atop the snow, using the wind to her advantage whenever possible. He felt, at the moment, he sympathized most for Nithron, who was a young recruit, struggling to adjust to the wear and tear lifestyle of traveling for a long while. Thankfully, the trip across Hollin was quick. They didn't expect the weather to be so harsh on the mountain.

They walked atop the snow, battered by the rough currents of wind, for about two more hours, finally resting when the sun was low in the sky.

Leaning against the rock of the mountain, Glorfindel closed his eyes and imagined the gardens of Imaldris. He was rudely shaken out of his reverie by several hard-packed snowballs.

His eyes flew open, searching for the offender. Verya smiled innocently. Nithron's eyes were wide.

"I know that was you, Tir." Glorfindel growled, loudly enough to not be carried away by the wind.

"Oh?" Tirithon's voice was a mask of innocence. "You frighten me so." His tone changed to a higher-pitched mock-frightened voice.

In the blink of an eye, Glorfindel had two snowballs ready. "You aren't afraid of me." His eyes glittered, and here he did a yrch imitation. "But maybe..." He paused dramatically. "You will surrender, or lose your brother." He aimed the snow missiles at Daeron.

Here Daeron rolled his eyes and gasped, somehow pulling off the effect of a terrified elfling and a satiric old man at the same time.

He was shocked when he felt a cold hard mass land right on his nose. Glorfindel realized his fatal mistake. He had not been watching Verya or Nithron.

Verya, perched atop a rock, appeared to be mass-producing hard pellets of ice that were designed to distract. Nithron was down in the snow gleefully building a snow fortress.

Glorfindel's eyes slowly rose to Daeron and Tirithon. He offered a feeble smile as they drew up several weapons of their own. Everyone was looking at him with a determined look in their eye.

In an open declaration of war, Daeron and Tirithon joined Nithron in building their castle.

Glorfindel strongly resisted the urge the run all the way back down the mountain screaming like an elleth.

In a light, jovial, and accentuated feminine voice, Verya asked, "You're not afraid, are you?"

"Oh, certainly not, my good fellow -"

And that was as far as he got.

He was assaulted with stinging ice was covered in snowballs.

With a triumphant laugh, Verya said, "And let that be the last time you call me a 'fellow'."

Glorfindel grimaced and shook off the snow, an act which made his 'opponents' break into laughter.

Daeron laughed heartily. "Do you intend to threaten me again?"

In a quiet but determined voice, Glorfindel said. "I do not give up that easily."

Glorfindel, now determined to fight back, eyed his surroundings. Eying a perfect spot, Glorfindel dove for a small crevice between two rocks. He was bombarded with snow, but his destination was only a few feet away.

Huddling between the rocks, he built a snow wall over the entrance as tall and thick as he could. Of course, his progress was impeded by flying snow.

When he had a semblance of a shelter and some sort of ammunition, he called out to them.

"You should realize this isn't fair!"

"Since when does vengeance have anything to do with fairness?" It was Verya.

"Vengeance!" Glorfindel spoke indignantly. "What did I ever do to you?"

"I recall something about 'not needing horses'." Nithron said.

Glorfindel sputtered. He narrowed his eyes. "I see how it is." He heard a few thuds against his snow wall. With a grin, he dug through his pack, thankful that he had left it on his back.

He took some extra green fabric that had previously stored food and tore itin half. He grabbed twine and dug through the snow for a stick.

With his supplies, he made a small flag. With careful pride, he stuck it on top of his snow wall.

He heard sniggers break out among his comrades.

Glorfindel, in an almost mocking imitation of Elrond, cried, "The army of Gondolin is being tested. Prove our steel, this day! Though we are one elf, we will not lose!"

There was silence for a bit. Then, there was laughter and the thud, thud of snow. Glorfindel grimaced as some landed on top of his head.

"You and your egotistical self." Daeron said, and though Glorfindel couldn't see him, Glorfindel could tell he was smiling.

"At least I have self-respect."

Clear, delighted laughter sprung out, and Daeron replied: "I find that hard to believe."

Absently, as Glorfindel was packing snow, he said, "I've never cared about your opinion."

Suddenly, his snow wall came crashing down. He sputtered, and caught a glimpse of Nithron running for a moment then gracefully leap back into the safety of his fortress.

Glorfindel, sorrowful, glanced across the remains of his shelter. But, not a moment was spared before he realized his danger.

He barely had time to think before he ducked to avoid the onslaught of snow.

The torrent stopped. The world was quiet, for a moment.

"Do you surrender?" Glorfindel cried, undeterred despite his situation.

"Nay, my friend, we were hoping you had come to your senses. Are you willing to yield?" Daeron's voice was clear and strong.

"Never!" Glorfindel had his plan.

"If that is how you must be." Verya said, with a mock-threatening tone.

"Indeed, it is." Glorfindel grinned. "But I do believe, in the end, you will wish you had surrendered."

That was all the warning they got.

Glorfindel suddenly ran from his cover behind the rocks, and dove into their fortress of snow, breaking it apart.

There was a bit of laughter as they all dumped loads of snow over one another. There were no sides, just mass chaos. However, somehow Glorfindel ended up buried in the snow. He 'harrumphed' indignantly as his head popped out of the snow.

They grinned cheekily as they helped pull him out, and Glorfindel got the sneaking suspicion that somehow they had collaborated their efforts.

The sun set not long afterwards, and an evening wind began to blow. They set up a merry campsite with a crackling fire. There was a quiet air of content in the camp, and Glorfindel let out a happy sigh.

The full moon reflected in thousands of sparkles across the snow, and the sky was a hue of royal blue, twinkling with merry stars.

Daeron gave him a sidelong look. "Have you found this mountain to not be so troubling after all?"

"If one were to call Caradhras 'troubling', I would call them an uneducated and inexperienced optimist." Here Glorfindel grinned, and added, "But the view is tremendous." He gestured at the open expanse before them: woody patches of green, and, if you looked closely, the river Anduin flowing like a silver thread through the breathtaking panorama.

Perhaps he wouldn't kill Elrond when he got back after all.


AN: I hope you enjoyed my bit of fluff. My gift to you for the holidays. Please, make my day and review. I would be so very pleased.

I may post a special story for the holidays, but I'm not sure. I've been suffering from severe writer's block lately.

Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukah to everyone.