"I should not count on outside help. Survival had to come from me." Yann Martel


TA 2436

'Alok'

The word gently reverberated around her skull, the soft vibration rippling through the silence. She lay there unmoving, with limbs heavy and cold. Her eyes remained closed, yet she knew what surrounded her - a blinding white light, with no edges or curves, engulfing her like an ocean.

'Ah-lokk'

It emerged through the vacuum once more, this time louder and more demanding. In response, Ferelith felt her fingers twitch – or rather, she imagined they had moved. Frustration built as she concentrated on the feeling of movement, willing her extremities to flutter once more. Abandoning this after a few more futile struggles, she attempted the more simple gesture of opening her eyelids.

Struggling against the waves of light, they flickered open, causing her face wincing slightly as the light blinded her. Waiting for the moment to pass, she maintained a heavy lidded gaze to allow for adjustment. Confusion arose as she studied the view in front of her, no longer the white abyss she had initially noted. No, this new landscape had the ragged lines of towering landmasses, followed by the sharp horizon where grey sky met pale earth – new sights for eyes, but a familiar image to her mind.

'Alok, kendov'

The rumblings pulled Ferelith into focus with a new surge of energy. She felt a tingling in her calves and forearm, and steadily persuaded her limbs to move. Pushing herself onto her elbows, grunting as her muscles protested, Lith assessed her surroundings. A steady stream of snow had begun to fall a few leagues in front of her across the open tundra, and a breeze against her check announced the cold it would soon be upon her.

As her mind began to process thoughts and feelings, a more innate behaviour for survival kicked in.

Warmth. Find a source of heat.

With further sounds of discomfort escaping her mouth, she moved her legs beneath her and slowly rose. Trembling like a new born lamb, not only from the sudden movement but the sudden chill that had taken over, she began to mechanically place one foot in front the other whilst turning her back to the increasingly present storm that fumed in the distance. Her thin tunic did nothing to shield her from the freezing elements, so Ferelith wrapped her hands across her chest in a fruitless attempt to keep her core warm. Sighing at her discomfort, she trudged forward with the hastening breeze, as though it was there to guide her through the frozen wasteland.

No noise could be heard, save for the crunching of her boots against the permafrost, and no inkling of life could be seen I front of her. Regardless, her eyes remained peeled and ears sharp, listening for the smallest of whispers or the slightest of movements. For, alone in this frozen abyss, she was exposed and deadly vulnerable. And she did not like it one bit.

'Rovaan, kendov'

The low rumblings filled the landscape, and the breeze changed direction. Turning to her right, Ferelith continued, the air wrapping itself around her, provoking and encouraging her forward.

She continued on for what felt like an age. Her feet had become sore, and her fingers numb. Each inhalation was painful, the frigid air causing a burning sensation on the back of her throat. She stumbled slightly as her energy slowly began to waver, as though the land was absorbing very heat from within. Regaining her balance only to stumble once more, Ferelith fell to her knees shuddering. She was too far away from shelter, too far away to survive this savage climate for much longer. She collapsed to her side and curled her knees into her chest, attempting to contain any remaining warmth. The gentle breeze had abandoned her, only to be replaced by unrelenting gusts that cut through her body. Closing her eyes tightly, she lay listening to the howls of the wind.

As she pulled her legs closer to her chest, her eyes shot open. A cry had mingled with the howling; it had been almost undetectable. Straining her eyes, she looked into the direction in had originated from – only to see nothing but the dancing snowflakes the cascaded from the melancholy sky. She listened intently once more, praying it would reach her once more.

"Something's out there!"

Her ears had not fooled her. Though she could not see the owner of the voice, a warmth spread through her core, a slimmer of hope daring to break through. Steadily, a dark silhouette emerged from the dense curtain of snow. He halted as he drew close to Ferelith's side, turning behind him and yelling once more.

"Geth! 'Urry!"

Returning his attention to her, the man slowly reached out and gently placed a fur skin around her side. It swamped her torso in warmth, halting the blasts of cold that chipped away at her body. Briefly closing her eyes in remission, she opened them once more as a second figure emerged.

Panting, Geth dropped his hands to his knees, drawing deep breaths to level his breathing. It was not until he looked up that he saw Baldor knelt down next to… well, he didn't quite know.

Wide eyed, Baldor turned around to his companion. Geth's eyebrows rose from underneath his hat in bewilderment as he slowly understood what the object was.

"He's frozen through, Geth. It's a surprise he's still alive – Tulkas protect 'im. Blessed soul. We cannot leave him here to wither away." His voice was partially dragged off by the wind, the storm demanding to make its presence known.

A human. In the wastelands of Arthedain. Alone. Lost. Geth drew his brows together, and knelt beside Baldor. He removed another pelt from his pack to cover the exposed feet, watching in awe as the shuddering body struggled to survive.

"We're less than 17 leagues away from the village. Do you reckon he'll last that long?" Geth asked, doubtful of the prospects for this lone nomad.

Baldor moved closer to Ferelith, adjusting the furs. He sighed, his mind trying to assess the situation. "I think... I think that we should try. Many have perished before, but a few 'ave survived this long. If we can get 'im back to Kilnor, we'll leave 'im in the hands of Dernwyn."

Nodding in agreement, glad they would return home sooner than expected, Geth silently turned and walked away – it was not every hunting trip they discovered a wanderer in their unrelenting homeland. As he approached the silent wolves, he yanked the metal peg out of the ground, freeing the sledge. Walking on foot beside the pack, Geth led their transport back to Baldor.

The hunters had only been half a league away when Baldor had let out a cry, his arm pointing to the distance. Geth squinted, but saw nothing, save for Bald halting the wolves and sprinting off. Sighing at his recklessness, Geth was left to calm the wolves and tie them down along with the sledge, preventing them from running off. Once satisfied, he had tracked his partner's footsteps into the swirling storm, only to come across him crouched beside what looked like a corpse. A here they were, returning a barely living body to their village.

Halting the wolves nearby and swinging the sledge around, Geth motioned to Baldor that the sledge was ready for its new load. Both men approached the pile of fur and crouched down either side, tucking their arms underneath without removing the barrier Ferelith had against the cold. Grunting, she felt two strong pairs of arms lift her up momentarily, only to set her back down upon the hard wooden luge. She rolled to her side, embedding herself further into the comfort of the pelts, whilst the two men mounted the sled behind her. Drowsy and on the verge of consciousness, Lith heard a soft clicking from who she assumed was Baldor, and the ground beneath her suddenly lurched forwards. After a few moments, she shut her eyes, letting the gentle tumble of the sledge's movement over the ground and pounding of feet lull her into a welcoming escape. Sighing one last time, she gave into the darkness which swallowed her consciousness whole.


Aha! You made it through the word sludge! I guess now is as best time as ever to briefly introduced this story. After relying on Tolkien's world to help me through exam season, I began to form my own take on the Hobbit and interpreting characters, or adjusting the story to my own taste. Hence, these thoughts began to come together, and so after months of delaying the process, I put pen to paper – or rather, fingers to keyboard.

I hope you have enjoyed this taster so far, and would be so kind as to leave a review or even favourite/follow! Updates will rather few over the next few weeks, but will pick up into weekly updates at the beginning of July.

Again, many thanks. Everything is open to constructive criticism and queries.

-treesliketorches

Translations:

Thu'um
Alok - Rise
Kendov - Warrior
Rovaan - Wander