Chapter Four
After positioning the unconscious half-elf's limp body between them, both elves slowly lifted Elrond and carefully supported him.
"Where is the cave?" Caranor asked, looking around helplessly.
"This way- I think," Glorfindel answered. It would take more than a mere blizzard for him to lose all sense of direction, but even he was unsure.
Having no better options, the two elves bravely set out once more into the raging white storm. Elrond did not stir.
There were many advantages to being elven, but the ones that they were most grateful for that bitter day were their almost unnatural strength, swiftness, and resilience. Any human (or, apparently, half-elf) would have been overcome. But Glorfindel and Caranor both endured it without complaint, and even managed to make good time, all considering. Though the troubling question still remained- were they making good time in the right direction?
As Glorfindel's sweeping gaze searched the whirling snow around them unsuccessfully for any sign of the cave, he began to worry. To save Lord Elrond, whom he never should have lost in the first place, Glorfindel had not only risked his own life but Caranor's as well. And would all his efforts be for naught? Had he only succeeded in getting all three of them hopelessly lost in this thrice-cursed blizzard? Glorfindel knew that if they died, he would be the one responsible. That thought was more than he could bear, and as his mind pondered dark things that had not yet come to pass, the heavy burden of despair began to descend on his heart. The increasing futility of their situation was not helping. No landmark or sign of anything familiar was forthcoming.
The strain of cold and exhaustion was finally beginning to wear Caranor down, and the younger elf stumbled slightly. Glorfindel could feel himself weakening also, and he knew that their conditions would begin to rapidly deteriorate if the cave was not found soon. But a moment later, they both saw it- a distant flickering light, shining faintly just beyond the surrounding snowy haze that had come to mark the extent of their sight.
"A fire!" Caranor shouted jubilantly.
"A signal fire," Glorfindel called over the storm, feeling almost giddy with relief. "It is sustained by elven magic!" No ordinary flames could burn so brightly in this storm.
The others must have predicted this very trouble, and had accordingly disregarded Glorfindel's expressed wishes for them to preserve firewood. Though he feared that they would all pay dearly for it later on, now Glorfindel had never been so happy to see one of his orders disobeyed.
Hope and vigor restored, the two elves quickened their steps as much as they could without risking harm to Elrond, who disturbingly still hadn't stirred. Exhausted, when they at last reached the source of the light, and came close enough to see clearly the cave entrance that the large fire illuminated, they were greeted by a babbling crowd of anxious and questioning elves. Ignoring all inquiries, Caranor and Glorfindel rushed Lord Elrond into the cave and lay him gently down by a second, more moderate fire that had been built further inside the cave.
Upon seeing their lord's threatening condition, the other elves had fallen silent and easily made way. Now they seemed to barely resist the urge to crowd around the prone half-elf. They had each of them lived long enough to know when it was not wise to get in Glorfindel's way.
"We can't thaw his hands yet," Glorfindel told Caranor as they positioned Elrond as close to the fire as was safe. "But we have to get him warm!"
"Does anyone have an extra cloak?" he then asked the assembled elves. Looking around, he saw that none did. So without hesitation, Glorfindel removed his own cloak and wrapped it snugly around Elrond.
Glancing up, he noticed the shocked and concerned expressions on his companions' faces.
"He needs it more than I do," Glorfindel explained, giving them a strained smile.
With what resources they had, there was nothing else Glorfindel could do for his friend. As the blizzard still raged outside and the flames flickered and danced, casting strange shadows about the interior of the cave and on the downturned faces of the stressed elves huddled together inside, there was nothing left but to sit and wait.
Aragorn stood tense and alone on an open balcony, braced against the wind and heedless of the cold as he peering uselessly out into the swirling white that concealed everything. After a long moment, silent save the roar of the wind, he heard a voice speak unexpectedly close behind him.
"Estel, come inside, you'll be no help to anyone frozen to death. Even if they did come, you wouldn't see them in this storm. Let us do the watching."
Aragorn's face hardened with suppressed frustration and anger, before softening some as he turned to view the speaker.
"I know, Elladan," he said wearily. "But that's what I hate…"
"Not being able to help them. Knowing there's nothing you can do, nothing but wait and pray," Elladan finished for the distressed Ranger with a look of kind understanding.
Aragorn nodded slowly, and the elf sighed as he placed a hand on the human's shoulder and steered him back inside.
"I think we all hate that, Estel," Elladan told his troubled foster-brother gravely as they both sat down by a warm fire. "But it is something we all must learn to handle, especially those who hold or will hold great authority and responsibility. In this darkening world, often one cannot do anything to aid those he loves," he continued thoughtfully.
"What do you mean?" Aragorn asked sharply, even though he already had an idea what the elf was implying.
"No matter which destiny you choose, there will be times when you must wait, when you can do nothing," Elladan said boldly, in a rare display of straightforwardness for an elf.
"It is hard," Aragorn whispered quietly as he gazed into the dancing flames.
"That it is," Elladan agreed.
"Well, at least our family's notorious misfortune is not failing us now," Aragorn said after a pause, in a half-hearted and pitiful attempt to lighten the mood.
"No it is not," Elladan muttered, exasperated, thinking of the bizarre odds that the one day Glorfindel managed to get Elrond out on a patrol would be the day of the worst, most sudden blizzard the elves had seen in centuries. It was a sobering thought, and it only served to increase the elf's worry for his father and friends. But for Aragorn's sake he smiled.
"When Ada gets back-" he began, emphasizing the when, not if, "he will no longer be able to complain about our incredibly bad timing, for his will have been proven no better."
They both tried to laugh, but the sound was hollow and grim even to their own ears.
A/N: And there it is- the fourth complete chapter! I meant to publish it last week, or over the weekend at the latest, but I was only able to do it today. Sorry about that, but I hope you all enjoyed it.
By the way, I am planning on going back later and editing the earlier chapters some. Mostly to fix grammar and spelling mistakes that slipped past me, and to fix a problem one helpful reviewer pointed out with my characterization of Elrond. But I don't know when I'll get to that; it might not be for a while.
Again, thank you everyone for taking the time to read and/or review my story.