-Chapter Six-
Caradhras's Cruel Surprise.
Morning dawned in a whirl of white as snow battered the mountainside. Ánutar awoke with a start as a sharp pain pierced her right side; she had momentarily forgotten her injuries as the darkness of sleep had shielded her from the pain, though she did notice that her shoulder wasn't as painful, maybe her pain in her side balanced it out? Brushing the sleep from her tired eyes, she noted that the twins where already awake but they hadn't noticed that she was awake, which in a way she was a little grateful for, seeing as soon as they noticed they would start fussing. So she took advantage of the silence and examined the events of the night before; it was only now that she realised how incredibly lucky they where and it still amazed her how they had managed to gain a victory over the goblin pack when they numbered at around a hundred strong and with advantage of knowing the mountains extremely well.
Shifting a little so she could stand, the pain in her side, which a few sliced through her like a knife and she was forced to restrain herself from crying out, and drawing her brothers' attention. It was no use worrying them, seeing as they would fuss worse then ever, she rolled her eyes at the thought, she so hated being fussed over. Decidedly she clenched her teeth and ignoring the pain, she slowly got to her feet, using the wall to steady herself before making her way over to her brothers, whom where sitting around the rekindled fire. 'How come you didn't wake me?' She asked, carefully lowering herself to sit beside Elrohir.
'I was about to come and wake you,' replied Elrohir, looking at her anxiously, he knew his sister hated being fussed over but he couldn't help being worried. He had had time during his watches to come to the conclusion that had he noticed sooner that that bloody half orc had trapped Ánutar he would have been able to help and thus she might not be injured. He shook of thought; it would be no good dwelling on it, so he asked her: 'How do you feel?'
'Sore, but I'll live,' answered Ánutar absently, ignoring Elrohir's raised eyebrows. She longed to tell them to stop worrying, but she didn't, they where trying to help after all. It was odd enough, but she wasn't worried about herself, despite her wound bleeding profusedly. In fact she was more worried about the twins themselves and her mother.
'Our descent will be slow,' said Elladan, keen to change the subject, his eyes on the entrance to the cave, outside of which it was once again snowing heavily. He hadn't bothered to fuss as his brother did, as he knew Ánutar would complain and they would end up arguing, which in their current situation wasn't a good idea.
'We should be alright as long as its just snow we've got to tend with,' said Ánutar, eyeing the falling snow outside.
After they ate, they prepared to leave the dreary cave. Ánutar tightened the stir ups on Dimroë's harness, not wanting to fall is she where to become unconscious. She also checked the cloth binding wound secretly before returning to the twins with Dimroë. Ánutar was alarmed to find that during the night, blood had seeped through the rag that was gingerly tied around her waist. She carefully concealed it, making sure that a fold of her green cloak hid it from view. "After all," She thought, "The twins have enough to worry about." It was with dampened spirits that they left their solitary shelter. Celebrían, still unconscious, was seated before Elladan, whilst Elrohir kept a close eye on his sister, whom was sitting straight, backed upon the white mare.
The cold air hit Ánutar hard in the face, as white flakes whirled around her. But she welcomed the cold, which felt like a breath of fresh air after the stifled air of the cave. As they turned their horses back North West, a cold blustering wind blew, howling amongst the high summits, tearing at their clothes. It sent snow flakes across their field of vision making it extremely difficult to see and it was getting uncomfortably wet. The weather worsened over the next two hours, the wind had become a gale battering them and the horses where becoming restless as they made there solitary way down the road filled with at least a foot of tightly compacted snow, that they had to wade through.
'Oh, this is no good!' exclaimed Elladan over the howling wind, he hated snow at the best of times, but now it was just dangerous. 'We can't go any further.'
'But it's only been two hours since we left the cave, and we've hardly come very far.' answered Ánutar, she hated the conditions, the howling wind tore at her like a pack of wolves and with every movement she made, pain was sent spiralling through her entire body, but she saw it as no reason to give up. 'I thought we needed haste?'
'We do,' replied Elladan, 'but, Ánutar, we can barely see. How do you expect the horses to go any faster in this snow, it's at least two feet deep?' He had know idea what had but his sister in such a determined mood, and he was starting to think that she wasn't thinking coherently as usual because he knew that Ánutar would have normally by now would have agreed to stop.
'I don't,' stated Ánutar, 'but the horses are still moving, we can at least put some miles behind us.'
So they carried on, their horses moving slowly through the tightly packed snow. Ánutar sat clenching her teeth. Every now and again a gust of ice cold wind would hit her, forcing her to shiver and shudder, sending waves of nauseating pain through her wary body; she had fought for the last hour to remain conscious. Her face was red raw and her eyes where narrowed against the wind, whilst the tips of her fingers where numb. Yet despite all this, Ánutar was unwilling to give into the storm. She thought that sooner they got out of the mountains the better. For, though she knew her own strength was slowly waning, she feared that her mother was in a worser state. Ánutar looked across to her mother, her face was pale against the golden silvery locks of hair, her eyes where open and staring unseeing into the distance.
They kept going in silence for another three hours, neither having the strength to talk nor even the will to open there mouths. The weather had hardly changed, remaining cold, windy and snowy and it wasn't until they where much further down the mountain though they where still quite high up. There even seemed to be some kind of reprieve in the falling snow which rose their spirits a little, though it was strange and there was still a great deal of snow on the ground. Even though the sky above remained white with snow clouds, the snow had almost stopped and as they carried on further and further down the snow underfoot seemed to be thinning. They rode on a faster pace allowed by thin carpet of snow
Then without any warning there was a loud raucous howl from behind them getting louder and louder. All three of them froze and the horses snorted uneasily, fear rose within them. Ánutar turned Dimroë around to face the way they had come and scanned the horizon but there was nothing for her to see, and there wasn't a hint of anyone else other then themselves. 'It can't be wolves,' she said, after a few minutes of staring at the camouflaged horizon. 'They never come up to these heights, they prefer the foothills.' She had never heard of wolves or wargs in the misty mountains yet there was always a first time and that howl had certainly sounded like a wolf or wolves. She shuddered at the thought if it was wolves, they would be hard put to fend them off, in there current state.
Elrohir road a little way back up the road, drawing his sword, readying himself for some kind of attack. He didn't think it was a pack of wolves either but there where other monsters that roamed these mountains and he was determined not to be caught surprised. But whilst he was looking up at the heights of the cliff face he didn't notice the wall of wind, sleet and snow heading straight towards him.
'Snowstorm…' said Ánutar in a terrified whisper. Both she and Elladan had noticed the oncoming storm, ''what devilry wrought this?'' she thought. It was then she noticed that Elrohir hadn't yet noticed it. 'Elrohir come back!' She cried.
Elrohir turned back to his brother and sister, wondering why Ánutar had called him back. But as he rode back towards them the wind caught up with him, sweeping him from his horse and he landed spread eagled on his back in a drift of snow. Meanwhile his horse bolted in fear.
'Elrohir!' cried Elladan and Ánutar in unison, they had only seen him falling from his horse but now they couldn't see him now. Elladan caught hold of the bolting horse's reins as it went past. But Ánutar, Ignoring her injuries, dismounted Dimroë before hurrying to her brother's aid. She was slightly hampered by her side which was protesting against her struggling movements as the heavy wind battered her, trying to force her back. 'Are you alright?' Ánutar gasped, when she finally reached Elrohir. Her eyes watering from a mixture of pain and wind, she was also out of breath.
'I think so,' answered Elrohir, taking his sister's hand and hauled himself to his feed, 'just a little winded, you should have been more careful Ánutar.' he added as she stumbled slightly, Slowly they walked back over to Elladan, Elrohir leading his horse.
The suddenly a wave of pain crashed through Ánutar as the heavy snow filled wind battered them. It came as a shock and a scream escaped her lips as her legs gave way from underneath her. She sank to her knees which hit the snowy ground. Her head felt as if it was spinning and she was oblivious to her brother's urgent call from beside her, even the noise of the wind was muted as she was trapped in a world of pain. Numbly she was aware that Elrohir had taken her arm over his shoulder and half dragged her. Then without warning she feinted, becoming a limp weight.
Feeling his sister go limp, Elrohir gently laid her on the ground, noting the grey pallor in Ánutar's face, he anxiously brushed aside Ánutar's green cloak, revealing the concealed wound. The brown tunic was stained a darker colour with blood and the cloth binding it was saturated. 'Some how I don't think her wound has stopped bleeding.' Said Elrohir. Carefully he undid the cloth, pulling it gently away to reveal a thin but deep gash and sure enough it was still pouring with corpus amounts of blood. How his sister had survived for so long was beyond him. He hastily checked her pulse which was erratic but slow.
'We're going to have to rest here for awhile or at least until this storm stops,' said Elladan, gesturing at the swirling snow. Elrohir nodded in agreement and begun to rebind Ánutar's wound, hardly seeing how his sister could survive much longer. They could hardly carry on with such bad weather conditions with out it being overly dangerous then it already was.
Ánutar awoke to find herself lying in the snow; her side was throbbing with pain but fortunately not as much as it had been. Turning her head, she saw that her brothers where making preparations to leave. 'What time is it?' She asked, feeling slightly confused, surely she hadn't slept for the entire time since the snowstorm? She trued to push herself to her feet but her arms lacked her usual strength and gave way, so she gave up.
'An hour or so from dusk,' answered Elladan, coming over to Ánutar. 'Do you feel up to riding today?'
'I think so,' She said, 'At least I think the wound may have stopped.' She placed her hand over the cloth that acted as a bandage. She was relieved when she didn't feel anything on it, which signalled that the wound had finally stopped bleeding. She felt as if there wasn't anything left in her and though the pain had numbed to some extent it still hurt an awful lot and Ánutar didn't doubt that if she moved to fast or did the wrong move it would reopen.
Elladan didn't seem to trust his sister's words, because he checked the cloth himself and was relieved to see any fresh blood. Carefully and slowly he helped Ánutar to her feet, she stumbled and swayed a little and almost fell back down again, before Elladan gently placed his arm under her right and but her left over his shoulder. A wavy of dizziness nearly consumed Ánutar as her brother helped her over to her horse, whose nostrils flared at the smell of blood and snorted. Ánutar gently placed a shaking hand on the mare's white flanks, trying to calm her. 'Sedho, Dimroë, Sedho.' She whispered soothingly, and at the same time becoming aware of how weak her voice sounded.
'I've tightened the stir ups a little to prevent you from falling in the event of you becoming unconscious,' said Elladan, as he helped her in to the saddle. Ánutar nodded, groaning slightly as pain coursed through her like venom. 'Are you shall your alright to ride?' he added concerned, he noticed that Ánutar had become even paler in the effort of getting on to the horse's back and her skin wall cold and clammy, as well as her hands shaking.
'Yes' replied Ánutar, rather quietly. She had long given up telling her brothers to stop fussing and she hadn't the strength any longer to argue with them, of fact she hadn't the strength to do anything much. She felt so helpless in her weakened state and it was driving her mad, plus there were many days of travelling to go before they even reached the ancient country of Hollin.
By the time they had left their temporary shelter, night had fallen, though it was more of some sort of twilight, then actually darkness. The snow had stopped fully stopped and the wind had died down somewhat compared to the past few days. They travelled in silence as there horses began to easily put up speed. Ánutar spent most of it deep in thought, thinking mostly of the snowstorm, she didn't want to look any further back just yet. "Trust our look to get caught in a snowstorm." She thought bitterly, yet she supposed she should be grateful that it wasn't anything else. A snowstorm was hardly dangerous compared to the deadly mixture of orcs, goblins and wolves, which could prove more fatal then anything. The rest of the night passed in silence as they made there descent slowly and by the time morning dawned bright and cold, they where pleased to find that they had come further then expected. 'We should reach Hollin by dusk tomorrow or by tomorrow morning.' Said Elrohir.
The other two didn't answer. Ánutar sat staring at the blaring sun, which had finally decided to show her face. She felt dizzy and light-headed. On more then one occasion during the night, pain had nearly over whelmed and had nearly fallen from Dimroë's back. She tried to take deep breaths to steady herself but it sent pain spiralling up her side, making her feel even worse then ever. Shaking her head slightly she wound her hands tighter in Dimroë's reigns as she followed her brothers.
Early dusk arrived just as they reached the knees of Caradhras. The day had been uneventful and thankfully no sign of snow. Caradhras had finally relented at last, giving Ánutar and the twins an advantage in speed. Ánutar was no longer sitting straight in the saddle for she no longer had the strength and was now sitting with her head resting against Dimroë's neck. She had already fallen unconscious several times that day, and her wound had reopened drenching her side in fresh blood. Ánutar felt exhausted and she was now having difficulty breathing. They went down a little way further before stopping to make camp. Hopefully in the morning they would reach the outskirts of Hollin. Finding a suitable shelter they dismounted, whilst Elladan started the camp fire, Elrohir helped the unconscious Ánutar to dismount. Ánutar had fallen asleep a few minutes ago and he was loath to wake her, yet he couldn't just leave her on the horse. He noticed as he gently called to her, that her face had attained a greyish tint and her hands where freezing.
Ánutar awoke as Elrohir finally getting through to her. His voice had seemed distant and had a fat off quality as if he wasn't standing next to her. Even worse she could no longer make out any great detail in the surrounding landscape. 'Ánutar, how do fare?' asked Elrohir becoming greatly worried by the distant look in his sister's eyes. In he had never seen her in such a bad state, he knew that Ánutar had gotten into scrapes before especially when she and Luínil had often gone off, but this here and now was ten times worse.
It took Ánutar awhile to answer, she felt disorientated and light headed as well as exhausted. Fatigue was threatening to overwhelm, but she forced herself to focus. 'I…I think the wound h…has reopened,' she gasped, her breathing coming in short painful stabs. It was making her feel extremely dizzy. Elrohir nodded, and helped her to dismount. Her feet had barely touched the ground before she had fainted as the pain rose up inside her. 'How is she?' asked Elladan concernedly as his brother lay Ánutar down next to the fire.
'She mentioned that the wound has reopened, which I think it has,' answered Elrohir, and true enough as he examined the gash hidden behind a strip of cloth that had once been stark white, and was now soaked with blood, blood seeped out from it. 'If we don't reach Imladris soon, I fear that we will lose her'. He looked down sadly at his sister's greying face that had a stark contrast against her dark hair, her chest was heaving laboriously whilst the thin gash that belied its depth, lay open, blood oozing from it. 'How is mother?' he asked after awhile.
'She's in a much better condition then Ánutar,' said Elladan, 'We should reach Hollin sometime tomorrow. From there if we push ourselves, we could reach Imladris within a week or so,' He shared his brother's concern. The twins set watches for the night, Elrohir taking the first. He positioned himself so he had both his sister and mother in view and was still able to watch for any unwanted fiends.
Sometime during the night Ánutar awoke, pain attacking her soon as she returned to awareness. She felt disorientated and wondered why she was lying in snow, but the more she thought the more her memories of the nightmarish past few days flooded back to her. Opening her eyes fully she found that her was reduced to a blurry mess and the sounds dampened considerably. Ánutar tried to sit up, but her arms felt weak and the pain in her side intensified making her eyes water, she tried taking a few breaths to steady herself but it only made it worse. In the end, she gave up the attempt, groaning as pain raked her body. The sound made Elrohir jump, it had sounded so loud in the silent air. 'Ánutar?!' he exclaimed trying to keep his voice low so not to wake the others.
Ánutar, however, barely heard him, it was as if someone had taken a lump of wax and stuffed in her ears, muffling the sounds. She couldn't even focus her eyes on her younger brother as he came nearer to her. 'W…where are we?' She asked her voice sounding fainter then ever and it was punctured her heavy breathing.
'We're on the knees of the mountain,' replied Elrohir, 'we should be in Hollin tomorrow and then all being well, and we should reach Imladris in a week's time.' Silence fell between them as Elrohir checked the wound, alarmed to find that it hadn't stop bleeding. "How can she last much longer like this?" he thought wearily.
'I thought it... took longer then a week to... reach Imladris from Hollin?' said Ánutar, confused. It had taken then at least two weeks to reach Hollin from Imladris before, or maybe she misheard what Elrohir had said.
It would normally, but at this moment in time we are in need of haste,' answered Elrohir; he wordlessly checked her pulse on wrist beneath her vembraces, its beat irregular beneath his fingers. After awhile Ánutar slipped back into the darkness that shielded her from the never-ending pain that was reality, but it provided no rest as a string of dreams plagued her.
"A world was being torn apart; angry seas crashing against the jutting rocks, on land fire raged and rampaged as a battle was ensuing, its noise echoing out over the sound of the waves. The sky above was red and tort with thunderheads, flashes of lightening danced across the sky... The vision faded out to a scene of calmer seas, a grey ship was moored in the harbour, elves where singing as they prepared to see of off into the west. A single golden haired elleth dressed in hues of cream and white with a cloak of blue boarded the ship..."
'Ánutar!' came a gentle voice pushing away the dreams. 'Ánutar!' It called again this time more urgently. Ánutar slowly awoke to find that morning had dawned. Elladan was kneeling next to her and she realised it was him who had been calling her. Yet she had barely focused her eyes on the eldest twin before pain had overwhelmed her and having no longer the strength to resist, her eyes fluttered closed.
Elladan sighed anxiously, the bleeding had finally stopped but the considerable amount Ánutar had lost had weakened her further. Gently he lifted her carefully from the snow covered ground and slowly carried her over to Dimroë. Tightening the stirrups to prevent her from falling. Then after they had checked on there mother, they moved off in silence.
