Snow Blind
by Levade
This story was started Sept. 2016 and has idled on my computer where I picked at it ( ignored it ) for ...um...two years. Yeesh. I owe two people my thanks that it ever got finished - EverleighBain and ArianaofImladris. They looked it over and told me what stunk and I might have carried on anyways, so blame me for errors.
This is a birthday mathom, in the finest Hobbit fashion. Yep, it's my birthday today! Whew, I made it another year! :D
"Be still!" Hissed between clenched teeth, Elladan pulled his brother against his chest, wrapped an arm around him and covered his mouth. Eyes rolling white, Elrohir increased his struggles, but the arm around his chest was as immovable as Elladan's will pressing against his, and he finally fell still.
Breaths, hot upon the cold of his hand, blew too fast and Elladan closed his eyes, willing their pursuers to keep going.
The harsh bellows of Orcs came near, snarling as the wind chose that moment to pick up and rattle the trees, sending snow billowing down. Shaking the snow off, the Orc snarled and turned to the hulking figure still looking around. "Ugfang, none of us can track wit snow blowin' sideways!"
Head rising to the wind, the brawny Orc growled low. "We had 'em!" He turned to his smaller compatriot. "Even Elves don't have heads hard enough to survive that knock."
Shifting, Sniksnik turned in a circle. "Should be blood."
"Lots of blood." Ugfang snarled and held up a bloody blade. Blood trailed slowly down the blade to his hand and dripped in the snow. "Find 'em, boys, and we'll feast on Elven meat tonight!"
Gobsnog shivered, and crouched low. "What of the others? They can't travel as fast."
Ugfang showed his teeth, sharpened to points and proven deadly. "Told them not to follow, didn' I? We ain't watchin' over snivlin' brats, Gobsnog!"
Groveling in the snowdrift, the orc backed away. "I jus-"
"You just thought! Well, stop it!" Whirling, the Orc captain gestured. "Track back! We lost 'em somewhere by the river. And tell Skumwort t'bring the Wargs! We find those Elves or Narzod will eat us. Go! Go!"
Elladan let his breath out slowly, straining to hear if anyone had stayed behind. Pressing his mouth near his brother's ear, he breathed, "Stay still and don't even try to follow or I'll gut you myself." A lack of response was his answer, and he laid his brother on the ground before rising silently to peer around the old oak.
The swirling snow made it impossible to see far, but the wind was blowing towards the oak. He would have smelled the Orcs had they still been around. Still, he waited, straining to hear anything. The trees groaned as they swayed, the wind pushing as the storm roiled up against the foot of the Hithaeglir. Elladan said a quick prayer of thanks for the storm and went to kneel next to Elrohir. "Can you stand?"
Elrohir tried to sit up and grimaced, falling to one side. Swallowing twice, he clenched his eyes and pressed his lips together. "No."
"World spinning?" Elladan ran his hand gently along the back of his brother's skull, hissing when he felt the blood matting Elrohir's hair. "Have to get you somewhere warmer."
"Jus' hel' me ..."
"Stay put." Pressing a hand firmly on his shoulder to hold Elrohir down, Elladan stood. The area was familiar, but they were usually there in spring, after the snow melted. The Hithaeglir loomed above, steep slopes where no trees grew and slate-sided rockfalls made it imprudent to climb. The foothills they were on rose steadily from where the river cascaded down a series of waterfalls to the meadow below, and they had followed the trail of several yearlings, hoping to bring them back down before the storms rolled in, blanketing the meadow in snow.
It was early fall, a time when the trees took on jewel-tones and the days grew shorter and colder. They should have had at least another month before a storm this vicious blew in, but the warm never lasted long in the higher meadows.
Elladan glanced at his brother, staring vacant-eyed, and blew out a short, hard breath. There were caves near the bluffs by the river. Cut out of the limestone by the rise and fall of the river, they had been dug even deeper by generations of Orcs. Orcs he and Elrohir had hunted and burned out for a decade. They stank of death and decay and were like dark mouths opening out of the earth.
They were the only place to hole up in the storm. With a muttered oath, Elladan pulled his cloak around his nose and ploughed a path through the snow downhill, hoping he could find at least one of the caves.
"It's not Lothlórien or home," Elladan grunted as he carried his brother through the low opening of the cave. "But it's out of the snow."
Elrohir was silent. He'd passed out as soon as Elladan had picked him up and taken one jolting step, foot sinking in the loose-packed snow. The trip from the oak to the cave had not been easy or gentle. His raw knuckles were a testament to tripping on a hidden root and staggering forward. The small tree had taken the brunt of his weight, and a bit of skin, but it had stopped him from falling with Elrohir.
Gently setting his brother on the ground, Elladan pulled his cloak off and laid it over Elrohir, tucking the edges under his body. "Remember how we used to argue about who got to start the fire?" Elrohir said nothing, but his eyelids flickered and Elladan laid a hand on his brother's forehead. "Shh…peace, little brother."
He stood and looked around the cave. There were depressions where the burned remains of fires laid and Elladan hoped some of the wood was still dry. He had to get them warm or they were going to freeze to death.
There was some loosely piled wood near the back of the cave, and Elladan hurried to gather it up. He used some of the smaller bits for kindling, and with some muttered prayers soon had a fire burning. The flickering light barely touching the deeper reaches of the cave, but Elladan was more concerned with his brother as he pulled his tunic up and peeled the bloody shirt away.
The cut was long and ragged but not terribly deep. Slicing a length of his own shirt, Elladan used it as a pad and then cut a longer strip to wind around Elrohir's waist. The head wound was more worrying and he needed warm water and better light to truly see the damage, but Elladan settled for binding it as well. They would need to clean it when daylight came. Bleeding slowed, he dug in the small pack they always carried and found small bags of various herbs. They weren't labeled, of course. Elrohir knew what they were and never bothered.
Elladan wished now that he'd paid closer attention to what his brother had said.
A sniff told him one was athelas, and the next something he didn't know the name for but it wasn't what he wanted. He opened one, uncertain of what it was and dipped a finger in. Touching it to his tongue, he grimaced. That was it. He set it aside carefully and hunted for something to heat water in. "Brother, you carry more than I realized." There was a tin of the yellowish paste his father used for bruises, and a small metallic object. Pulling it out, Elladan shook his head. It was a small brass horse, made when they had been younglings, and had visited the Dwarven kingdom of Khazad-dun. One of the Dwarves had been amused by his brother's endless questions, and had shown Elrohir how to form a horse of wax before using it to create delicate jewelry. Elrohir had been fascinated, and was forever creating bits and bobs as he called them – jewelry that was beautiful and delicate and showed his Noldorin blood. The small brass horse had been a parting gift. Intricate down to the flowing lines of the mane and tail and flared nostrils, it was a trinket that would have brought a pretty price in any mannish market.
It was just like Elrohir to carry such a thing, even though it had no real purpose.
But ah… there was a tin cup and that was the treasure Elladan had hoped to find. He stood and went to the entrance of the cave to get clean snow and set the cup near the fire. Settling next to Elrohir, he stroked the near-black hair off his brother's face and frowned. Elrohir's skin was clammy, and he shivered even with the warmth of the fire. Gathering him closer, Elladan cradled his head carefully on his arm and reached for the small bag. He wasn't sure how much to add to the snowmelt, but wrapped a bit of cloak around his fingers and pulled the cup from the fire. Blowing on it to cool, it added a few pinches of the willow bark. It was bitter, he knew from experience. "No honey to make it sweeter, brother. This is how Glorfindel used to give it to us, remember?" He smiled. "When we'd gone and done some lunk-headed thing he told us not to, but it never got better." He levered Elrohir up, and carefully dribbled a little of the warm liquid in his mouth. "Come on…no, don't spit." Holding his brother's jaw closed, he gently pressed his will against his brother's. It wasn't a fair contest, Elrohir, who was always laughingly defiant, gave under the barest press of Elladan's will and swallowed the bitter liquid with only a grimace.
A few more swallows and Elladan set the cup aside. "You did well, shhh…" Cradling his brother, Elladan hated how helpless he felt. "You have to rest now." He pressed his cheek against the top of Elrohir's head and waited until he felt the steady rise and fall of breath, the steady heartbeat to relax. That heartbeat had always been part of his life. He couldn't imagine it any other way.
Outside the storm raged on in quiet splendor, blanketing the mountains in a majestic cloak of cold, cold snow, obliterating the path of Orc and Elf alike.
"You can't play that card."
The bright eyes latched on him and one bushy eyebrow rose. "Oh?"
The boy shook his head, and slapped a different card down. "See? You have to match the suit and the numbers need to-"
"Lad!" Sitting back the Dwarf burst out in a bellowing laugh that made the boy cringe and cover his ears. "The wee spriteling thinks to teach me how to play Dwellen!"
As the other Dwarves roared with laughter, the boy straightened and dropped his hands away from his ears. "I'm not wee!"
One of the Dwarves who had been watching walked over and sat. "Lad, have ye looked at yourself?"
"No. Why should I?"
A mirror was produced and he stared at the image. "That... That isn't me! I'm not a child!" The laughter was louder this time, and he felt it in his bones. "Stop laughing! I'm not a child!"
"The wee babe is gettin' angry," one of the Dwarves taunted. "Watch out or he'll wail an Elven song for us!"
He stood up and glared from one to the other. "Stop. STOP IT!"
"Elrohir, sshhhhh." Another mirror, this image showing a mature version of himself. But something was wrong.
He shook his head. "But, they're playing the game wrong." It came out far more plaintive than he wanted but it was SO annoying! "Tell them to stop laughing!"
It was the eyes. They were so sad. "Oh, baby. Shhh...you're dreaming."
"N...nana?"
"Nana is here, darling." Blue filled his eyes as his mother cuddled him closer, and he breathed in the scent that was hers alone. "Nana won't leave you."
That wasn't right. It wasn't right! "But you did!" Elrohir pushed away, shaking his head. "You left me! You left us all! How could you do that?"
Tears filled the blue eyes. So sad. So, so sad. "I didn't want to. Oh, my beautiful boy, I did not want to!"
He shook his head, pushing hard. "You sailed! You left us! Leave me, left Adar alone!"
"Shhh..." The arms were strong, heartbeat steady, holding him in an un-yeilding hold. "Peace, little brother. Shhhh..."
Darkness swam in circles and he groaned, feeling his stomach lurch. "Adi?"
"It's all right, Ro." A callused hand came up to cup his neck, thumb stroking his cheek. "You're all right."
"Don't feel good."
"I know."
Near black hair swept across his face and he closed his eyes. The darkness slowly tipped to one side before lurching to the other. "Gonna be sick."
And he was, stomach heaving even when there was nothing left but bile that burned his throat and brought tears to his eyes. He spat and coughed as Elladan rubbed his back. "Water?"
"Here. Lie back down."
Hands eased him down and a hand swept the hair off his sweaty face. "Feel bad."
"I know."
Daring a deep breath, Elrohir peered up owlishly at his brother. "You?"
"Fine." Elladan sat again and eased his shoulders up. "Drink slow. Just sips."
It dribbled down his chin and he panted as if he'd run the entire circuit around the valley, but a small amount slid down his burning throat. Elrohir licked his lips and closed his eyes. "Where?" The pause was too long and he cracked his eyes open again, fighting the heaviness pushing them back down. "Adi?"
"Safe."
The wind was howling outside and he turned his face towards the warm solidity of his brother. "Dreamed of Jarvi. Khazad-dûm. That trip we took."
"Did you." The tone was tired but laced with an amused note.
"Mm." His bones were weighed with lead, pulling him down, down. So heavy. He licked his lips and slurred, "Cheated at cards."
"He always did."
"S'what I said."
"Sleep, little brother."
The hand was cool on his forehead, the pressure of Elladan's shining will gentle as it nudged him towards the soft darkness. "Not wee."
Elladan quirked an eyebrow. "All right. You."
"Heh." Elrohir finally let the dark blanket sweep over him, but a smile lingered on his cracked lips.
Shaking his head, Elladan sighed. At least he knew the crack to Elrohir's head hadn't addled his brother entirely. Still, he'd feel better if they were home where their father could assess the wound, but even if he wanted to attempt hauling Elrohir down the foothills to the meadow he couldn't. The snow was deep, too deep to carry the weight of both of them.
He tended the fire, and dug some dried meat out of the pack. It was tough as old shoe leather and almost frozen, but after a few minutes by the fire, he deemed it edible.
Barely. How the Rangers survived on fare like dried meat was a mystery.
Restless, Elladan stood and walked to the cave entrance. He squinted as the clouds scuttled aside and the sun hit the white wonderland that surrounded him. It was quiet, only the wind sighing through the pines, making them groan as they swayed. There were a few squirrel tracks and the paw prints following them were from a fox likely on the hunt for breakfast. Elladan wished the fox luck and sighed. Had the storm hit just the higher elevations or would they be able to get clear once they came down out of the highlands? He hoped the horses had the sense to either trot on home (the likelier situation) or go back to the lower meadows and join the herds.
It was possible they had; his gelding was fond of one of the goats Roccandil kept in the stables and might have decided to stay with the goat herds rather than going all the way home. At least the goats had the sense to move down, away from the storms. The sheep would stand in the field, huddled together for warmth, and freeze rather than move.
Pushing away from the cave entrance, Elladan sighed. This was getting him nowhere fast. He walked over to put away the items he'd pulled from the pack and frowned. Where was the little horse? He bent over Elrohir, trying to determine if he'd snatched it up, but his hands were laying open at his side.
"Huh." Odd, but it would turn up. Elrohir probably was lying on it.
Sitting cross-legged, near enough to reach out and touch his brother, Elladan pulled his knives, oil and whetstone and set out to put a deadly edge on them.
Near sunset when the snow was reflecting the pink and orange of the setting sun, Elrohir woke and groaned, clenching his eyes shut. "Feel like I ate a sock. Why?"
"Maybe you did." Elladan set aside the book he'd found at the bottom of the pack and knelt next to his brother. "Welcome back, sunshine."
"Back." Elrohir grimaced and ran his tongue over his teeth. "Sludge."
"Let's see if you can sit up without festooning me with vomit."
Grey eyes slitted open and Elladan was grateful to see the pupils were almost the same size again. Elrohir grunted and said nothing when his brother slid an arm under his shoulders to help him slowly sit up. "Morgoth's balls, stop moving!"
Elladan frowned, and laid his wrist on his brother's forehead. "You've got a fever still." But it heartened him when Elrohir feebly batted his hand away and scowled.
"Asked for a pretty healer."
"I've been called pretty."
Leaning heavily on his brother's shoulder, Elrohir blew out a breath and closed his eyes against the spinning cave. "Willow bark."
"Never been called that."
"Ha ha. Pack?"
Elladan grinned suddenly and reached for the pack with his free hand. "Missed your sparkling wit, brother." He leaned Elrohir against the cave wall and found the pouch with the Willow bark and the other with athelas. Adding a few pinches of the Willow bark, he helped hold it as Elrohir grimaced.
"No honey?"
"Just drink it."
A grimace, and Elrohir gulped the bitter water then sat, lips pursed as his stomach contemplated rebellion.
Dropping more snow in the cup, Elladan set it by the fire to warm and studied his brother's face. "Better?"
"Two socks now." He licked his lips. "Athelas?"
"Heating water now. Hold your britches."
The ghost of a smile curled his cracked lips. "Rotten healer. Gonna complain."
His words were still slurred slightly, and Elladan could sense the pain radiating from the goose egg on the back of his brother's head. "I'll be sure to tell Bronwë."
Elrohir sighed as the crisp scent of athelas filled the cave. He drew in a deep breath and cracked open one eye. "What?"
"That your hard head was cracked because you charged off ahead of me and that you're blessedly lucky to not be dead."
The tone was biting and Elrohir said nothing for a while, just watching his brother as he frowned and pushed the wood around the fire. "Adi."
"You almost drowned, Elrohir! Blood everywhere, and I got you up and moving and …" Elladan swallowed hard and his eyes were fierce as he met his brother's gaze, but his voice was low. "Don't you ever do that again. I thought you were dead." He could still see Elrohir, floating face down, hair swirling black against surly grey as blood filled the water.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry!" Visibly reining his temper in, Elladan shook his head. "You took the head wound because I couldn't turn fast enough to gut the scum before he got you." One deep breath and his voice was level again. "That one's on me."
"Feels like it's on me." Elrohir held up a hand hoping the grin wasn't quite the grimace it felt like. "Peace, Adi. Just trying to lighten the mood."
Elladan shook his head. "You're an ass."
"You're the worst healer ever." Slowly levering himself down to lay flat, Elrohir grimaced. "Athelas first. Always."
Laying a hand on his brother's head, Elladan could feel the spikes of pain radiating up his arm. He pressed his will towards Elrohir and sent energy towards the wound to speed the healing, grateful when his effort wasn't spurned. One last gentle nudge, to send Elrohir deeper into sleep, and Elladan reached for the book.
It was going to be a long night.
It was the smallest noise that roused him from his reverie, blinking once to clear his vision, and Elladan was already rising to his feet, sword in hand as it moved. A mouse or something innocuous, he didn't wait to see, but strode towards it sword sweeping up to strike...
And froze as the flickering firelight revealed a form in tattered clothing, rags wrapped around small feet, arm up to ward the blow. Elladan froze, staring in disbelief, his sword coming down as he realized it was a child.
But no small child could survive a storm alone and certainly not in such ragged clothing. Before he could speak, it opened its eyes and stared at him in terror. Huge, dark eyes, filthy matted hair that was impossible to say what color it was, but a tattoo on the forehead he'd seen before.
Elladan let his breath out in a huff and shook his head. "Child, where is your family?" He spoke in the common tongue, hoping it was familiar.
The child cowered back, covering its head and whimpering.
As if expecting an attack.
Sweet stars of Varda. Elladan swallowed and felt sick. He dropped to crouch on his heels and set the sword down, still within reach. Child or no, he'd seen the unexpected from the youngest of enemies. "What is your name?"
It curled in on itself even more and Elladan sighed. He had little patience for children, and was rarely around them. Not since... No, it didn't do to dote on the small ones. They came to his father's house to be safe and gain and education that might help them lead their people and then they were gone in the blink of an eye.
Elrohir was far more comfortable with children and the unpredictable situations they often got into. But Elrohir was sleeping and in no shape to deal with a frightened youngling.
"My name is Elladan." He sat cross-legged, large enough to still block the child if it ran, but hopefully looming over it less. "That is my brother, Elrohir." Feeling foolish, he continued to speak, softening his voice. "We were searching for several young horses when the storm struck and we sought refuge here."
The child peered at him from behind its arm but still didn't move.
"Are your mother or father here with you?" He half-expected someone to charge out of the darkness, but it was a foolish thought. The cave didn't go that much farther and grew very narrow at the end.
Small enough for a child to hide, but an adult... No. "Did they leave you here to be safe while they went looking for food?" He mimicked eating and the scrawny arm dropped, as the child stared intently at him. "You're hungry, aren't you?"
Biting its lip, the child gave a quick nod. Elladan held out his hands. "I'm going to get up, don't be afraid. I need to get the food out of my pack. All right?"
Large eyes watched his every move, and the child was trembling, though from cold or fright, Elladan couldn't tell. He picked up his sword and rose slowly, stepping back without looking away from the child. The pack was near Elrohir's foot and Elladan found the meat, and pulled out several pieces of the dried meat. He left the sword by his brother and knelt, holding the food to the child. "It's food. See?" He ripped a small piece off and chewed on it. "Tough and tastes a bit like Elrohir's herbs, but it's not the worst I've ever eaten."
Quick as a snake, the child darted out, grabbed the meat and scrambled back against the cave wall.
Elladan watched as she, he thought it was a she, worried at the meat like a dog with a bone. "I can melt some snow if you're thirsty."
Licking her fingers, she looked at him with a pinched face that spoke of fear.
He mimicked drinking and she nodded quickly, licking her lips. She watched him avidly as he went to the cave opening and got the snow then held the cup near the fire to melt it. He held it out to her and she grabbed it so fast that some of the liquid spilled but she gulped it greedily, making sure every last drop fell in her mouth.
Elladan nodded when she held it towards him and melted more snow that she accepted just as readily as the first time. Finally sated, she sat with her back to the wall and watched him warily.
He scooted back towards his brother and shook his booted foot. "Elrohir. Wake up."
A muffled groan was his answer, and Elrohir glared as he opened one eye. "Which part of me being convalescent don't you understand?"
"We have a guest."
"Wonderful." Pulling his cloak over his face, he groused, "Unless it's someone taking us home-"
"Brother." Elladan grabbed the cloak and yanked it away. "Look for yourself."
"What is so important that I..." Elrohir leaned up on an elbow and stared for a long moment as he saw their guest. "You found a child?"
"She was here the entire time, I suspect."
"She-"
"I know."
"Adi. Sweet stars." Elrohir blew out a breath and met his brother's gaze. "What do we do with an Orc child?"
TBC. Well? What did you think? I'll post more in a week or so - but I'd love to hear what did or did not work for you. Thanks for reading, I love ya and I'll see you next time! :D
