Chapter Twenty-Five: Into Shadow and Snow

White crystals danced with wild abandon as they slowly fell to earth, tiny sparkling stars of water plummeting to join the wide frozen sea that was steadily deepening over the land. It was a thick enough swirl of the fine diamond particles that everything more than a few feet away disappeared into the soft haze of snow.

Even the sharp eyes of Elves could see only a short distance, at least for those accustomed to seeing the horizon clearly. The four small figures plodding slowly along in the white vortex strained sharp eyes that could pick out individual snowflakes. Their horses were clustered nose-to-tail so that the animals could make out the creature in front of them through the storm. The only reason their mounts kept going as calmly as they were—and while they were visibly uncomfortable with the weather, they were not so discomfitured that they shied away or showed any sign of preparing to bolt back to a warm stable, although it was obvious that they would have liked to be there—was that they were Elvish-trained horses ridden by Elves. Had their riders required them to do so, they would have ridden through Mordor itself.

All that Elladan, Elrohir, Fuiniel, and Legolas required at the moment, however, was that they keep trudging through the steadily increasing snow. Each passing moment made this a harder task as the drifts continued to deepen while the flakes continued to pour from the thick clouds, heavy with frozen moisture, that hung ominously overhead, blotting out the blue of the sky with chill, dreary grays and icy, sparkling white.

The twins, despite barely being able to spare each other a look, consumed as they were with making certain that they did not stray from their path or direction of travel in the all-enfolding whiteness that was blanketing the lands, managed to exchange glances without glancing at one another. They were not pleased with the current weather, nor with the signs it showed of its future plans. Elrohir, who was in the rear of their small line, spent much of his attention on the two elflings riding hunched low on their mounts between the twins. Elrohir trusted his brother to watch ahead of them and prevent them from going off course just as Elladan trusted Elrohir to keep his eyes on the children and make certain that no ill befell their self-appointed charges—and, truth be told, recent friends.

As they anxiously kept half an eye on the snow, however, their worry increased—as did the storm. Privately both twins were amazed that the elflings showed no signs of flagging. But that did not stop them from feeling that shortly they were sure to bow under the ceaseless wind and freezing powder whipping around them. Elrohir and Elladan were not precisely cold; they were old enough that their natural tolerances were high. Their blood kept them from being uncomfortable, but they could easily tell that the weather was frigid. Almost cold enough to affect them—but not quite.

Yet, at least. If the storm kept increasing there was no telling. And as for the elflings…well, if the twins were cold, then surely the two children had to be half-frozen by now. Yet neither Legolas nor Fuiniel had looked back once. Elrohir shrugged and pulled his hood lower over his face and intensified his study of them. He spared but a glance for the skies although it was more like a glare.

He rolled his eyes and sighed, shaking his head. The storm's timing really could not have been more perfect.

………

Arwen was curled up on the windowsill, solemnly watching the light flakes of snow as they spiraled down through the air. Snow rarely fell directly in the Valley, and far less often in great amounts. She knew that this relatively thick fall meant a dramatic storm outside of sheltered Imladris. The young Elf-maid was perfectly still as she stared with drawn face and wide eyes. She seemed not to notice the wet flakes slowly melting on the dark velvet of her skirt nor clinging to the silken locks of her hair. A patch of that hair was currently being absently gnawed at between her teeth. Had her mother seen her, she would have received a disappointed sigh and a lecture.

Fortunately for the maiden, the elder Elf that knocked gently and entered her room was not her mother, but her father.

"Arwen?" Elrond spoke quietly, not wanting to startle his daughter, for she seemed wholly absorbed in whatever contemplation the snow she was staring at so intensely was causing.

She jumped only slightly and turned around. "Ada," she mumbled through a mouthful of hair. Elrond arched an eyebrow and she quickly removed the lock from her mouth and attempted to look innocent. Elrond smiled mildly and beckoned her to her feet. She rose and approached in a rustle of slightly-damp velvet.

"Accompany me to the twins' room, please," the Lord of Imladris said mildly. Arwen tensed almost imperceptibly but made herself relax instantly.

"Of course, Ada," she answered graciously, following him down the hall.

She turned around to look at him curiously when he paused in the doorway. Elrond gestured with one long-fingered hand. "Notice you anything…odd, my daughter?" he asked casually.

Arwen—so used to exceptional strangeness whenever her brothers were even remotely involved—did not even hesitate at the request but turned and surveyed the room. After a few seconds of examining she turned back to her father and shrugged. "Nay, ada," she replied. "Ought I to?"

Elrond smiled slightly and stepped into the room. "Well, I had thought that perhaps we ought to work on your observational skills, my daughter. I assume you would not mind a short exercise?"

"Of course not," she answered every bit as casually as he. Arwen knew well where this was going, but they would play their game. He would not ask and she would offer explanations without excuses; she would need to neither lie nor break a promise. And if he failed the game, he would accept not finding the answers to his questions; were she to fail, she would inform him of what he sought to know.

Elrond nodded slightly and studied the room a moment. Proceeding as if neither had any real interest but was merely studying an abstract problem, the peredhel walked slowly to the two beds and the dressers they were located next to. He opened the drawer on each that was second from the top and beckoned for Arwen to approach. "First we have the state of their clothing," he said without interest.

The girl looked in the drawers, then back at her father, her face neutral. "What state might that be, ada?" she asked calmly.

Elrond stepped forward and pointed to illustrate his words. "You might note that the nightclothes in this drawer are folded quite a bit sloppier than those in the other." It was true; those on the left would be wrinkled when their owner removed them next, although not so badly that a few shakes would not see the thin material returned to a more-or-less smooth state. The identical set on the right, by contrast, was folded crisply and were pressure to be applied to it just as it was, the clothing would come out of the drawer almost perfectly pressed.

Arwen examined them as she was bid, then stepped back and shrugged. "Elrohir is not quite so meticulous when it comes to housechores as is Elladan," she observed with detachment.

Elrond nodded. "That is true, and yet the beds appear made pristinely as if by the same hand," he mused.

Arwen shrugged again and spared a glance for the beds. "Mayhap they were," she said disinterestedly. "Sometimes Elladan makes both."

"Also true," Elrond agreed neutrally, "yet would not the one making the bed be the one to put the nightclothes away?"

Arwen hesitated this time, but only a moment before she found a proper response. "Perhaps Elrohir put his away before, as they were in a hurry," she offered.

"Unlikely, but admittedly possible," Elrond allowed. "Yes when they split the chores," he observed calmly, "they split them equally and the breakfast dishes are stacked as if each twin performed his own share here."

Arwen opened her mouth to speak, but could find no appropriate words. She looked around the room, as if hoping for a rescue from something within it, but none was forthcoming.

"I am afraid, my daughter, that you were too clever for yourself, yet not quite experienced enough. Do remember, I have been chasing after these two for close to a thousand years now. I have become quite familiar with them and their tricks, and smart as you are, dear Arwen, you are not so accustomed to sneaking out or causing trouble—at least, not for those other than your brothers."

Arwen hesitated a moment, still seeking a response, but then her shoulders slumped in defeat. "…well…all right. Yes. You are right, ada," she gave up. "But…why do you tell me this? Will not this knowledge make it to be that much simpler a matter for me to find trouble in future?" she asked in suspicious confusion.

Elrond's grey eyes misted with distance and the room of Imladris faded from his sight. A fond yet melancholic smile tugged softly at the Elf Lord's lips. "A little trouble can be good for elflings on occasion," he said quietly. "Elros and I…" his voice trailed off and he shook his head, returning from a far-distant past. He smiled at his waiting daughter and returned thought to the matter of present concern. "Might I now inquire as to where your brothers are?"

Arwen sighed heavily and her gaze strayed to the pale window. "I do not know," she said quietly. "None of us expected this snow fall, and we did not discuss what they would do were a storm to overtake them. I assume that Elladan and Elrohir did speak of it, yet not to me. You know their riding abilities as well as I do, ada, but with the elflings with them—I could not hazard a guess as to how far they would have traveled 'ere being forced to seek shelter from the storm."

There was silence for a few moments. Elrond stared at the back of Arwen's head as the girl watched the soft snowflakes gently spiraling through the air. The Elf Lord's world had suddenly tilted beneath his feet and he had not been expecting it. Now he struggled to catch his balance.

The twins were not camped somewhere in the valley. They had not snuck out with Legolas and Fuiniel for some innocent purpose that would have been restricted by the careful father and healer in Elrond; they had gone for…for what? For some purpose that doubtless the Lord of Imladris would have forbidden, if they had been riding since 'ere the snow began yesterday. Elrond had a horrible sinking suspicion as to what that purpose might be…but surely not even the twins would attempt that…

The Elf Lord closed his eyes and braced himself. These were his sons he was talking about. Of course they would dare. With a sigh and a cold twisting in his gut, Elrond opened his eyes. "Arwen," he said calmly in a voice he barely recognized as his own, "where, precisely, are they heading?"

He saw his daughter stiffen visibly as if she only now realized that her father had not known that her brothers and the elflings were not somewhere within the confines of the valley. She turned around swiftly, velvet and long dark locks flying wildly around a face that showed equal parts chagrin and distress. Elrond could see her debate inwardly for a moment, but the truth won out over whatever wild story he had seen dance through her wide grey eyes. "Greenwood, ada," she whispered and looked away.

Elrond could not find it in himself to chide her for chewing on her hair. In his sudden despair he envied her the comfort of a nervous habit. For the Lord of Imladris, there was only frantic pacing.

"Greenwood," he repeated tonelessly. Arwen nodded but could not meet his eyes. "They are riding to Greenwood."

The rug of his study would soon be worn through yet again.

………

Despite the steadily increasing difficulty of their travel, the young Elves had pressed on as evening's shadows deepened in the already dim world of the snow-shrouded sun. Shortly before dusk could have truly been said to have given way to night, Elladan halted his horse. The animal turned to look at him as if to ask, you intend to return to my warm stable now, do you not? Elladan had to smile slightly at the clear reprimand in his mount's eyes but he shook his head. The horse snorted, clearly unimpressed with its rider, and turned away haughtily. Elladan patted the faithful creature's neck in grudgingly accepted apology and glanced back to look at his companions.

Elrohir was grumpily trying to brush frozen snow from the limp hair hanging around his face and having little luck. Elladan raised an eyebrow at his twin that clearly and quickly communicated his amusement in an I-told-you-so type of way; he had suggested early in their ride that Elrohir might want to braid at least part of his hair and tuck it securely within his cloak and hood, but his brother had scornfully informed him that a little snow was not enough to so inconvenience him, whatever his obviously less-sturdy brother required in order to be comfortable. Elladan had grinned and shrugged; now the sight of being so clearly proven right lifted half-chilled spirits enough to make him grin again. Elrohir scowled, then ignored his twin and dropped his rebellious locks as if he had intended for small icicles to hang from his ears.

Elladan, smile still faintly residing in the corner of his mouth, turned his attention to the elflings and was surprised at what he saw. Fuiniel had her hood pushed back and was looking around with sharp eyes as if searching for some hint of whatever had caused them to stop. Her hands, ears, and nose were slightly pink with cold but rather than huddling within her cloak she was sitting painfully straight on the horse's back with her cape trailing half-forgotten behind her. One hand was wrapped tightly around the hilt of the long white knife that resided in her belt and from the snowflakes dotting it, clearly she had not released the weapon for some time. The girl would have impressed the most experienced of veterans—even Glorfindel, who seemed completely unaware of temperature no matter how frozen a lake might be—with her calm dismissal of the snowstorm around her as anything more than a vision-impediment. Elladan reminded himself that for all that Fuiniel was only a child she had spent a great deal of time as a lone warrior and doubtless her experience accounted for her demeanor.

He turned to Legolas and was at first relieved that at least one elfling was behaving more as expected, but he had to quickly revise that observation on a closer look. While the boy did have his cloak wrapped securely around his small form, rather than clutching at the warm fabric he was tightly holding the bow that Elrohir had found for him from when the twins were younger. He did have his head bowed slightly to keep the wind out of his face, but his eyes were bright and aware above cold-flushed cheeks and he was staring at Elladan curiously, obviously wondering why they had stopped.

Elladan, having expected the children would be only too delighted to cease their ride and attempt to get warm, was slightly taken aback. "Night will be here soon," he started a little bit tentatively, waiting to see what reaction his words would garner.

Fuiniel fixed him with her intense gaze. "Ay," she said calmly. "We must watch carefully."

Behind the children, Elrohir cocked his head in puzzlement and caught his brother's eye. Elladan shrugged slightly; he had no more insight here than did Elrohir.

"Shall we stop and rest a bit?" Elladan ventured again.

Fuiniel raised an eyebrow and looked at him as if he had suggested that they carry their horses and walk backwards while singing of Nimrodel or Gil-galad or Luthien. "Should we not wait for daylight?"

Elrohir looked at her, puzzled. "You do not wish to stop for the night?" he asked in confusion.

Fuiniel turned to look at the younger of the twins and Elladan could see Elrohir sit back slightly at the expression on her face. Elladan could not see it, but he could see it reflected in his brother's eyes: there was shadow there that made the encroaching night look pale. "The yrch roam at night," she said darkly. "It is best to be awake when your enemy is likewise."

Elrohir nodded, eyes slightly wider than usual, and Fuiniel turned back around. The twins' eyes met over the elflings' heads. They realized, for the first time, the true magnitude of what they were doing. This was not another prank, they were not simply sneaking off. They were about to traverse miles and miles of unfamiliar terrain, all but alone, in the dead of winter, possibly hunted by foul creatures of darkness. Elladan swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

Then Elrohir grinned. "Well, we had best move on 'ere our horses are frozen where we sit, had we not?" he asked cheerily. Elladan sighed and shook his head, but turned around and urged his mount forward. Elrohir was right, of course; he just wished that he shared his brother's optimism.

Ah well, at least they would not risk being buried in a snowdrift while they slept.

Unless, a small part of his mind started to whisper, but the Elf quickly shushed the practical, pessimistic side of himself. Pretend you are Glorfindel or Elrohir, he told himself firmly. Think only happy thoughts. Like how badly ada will yell at us when he catches up. Elladan grimaced. At least they would never suspect that we would ride on at night, he comforted himself. Then he, too, grinned.

He was on the verge of being cold, he was soon going to be tired, he was getting wet, he was starting to regret missing dinner, his life might soon be in danger, and he was in for a world of trouble when he got home.

And whether he wanted to admit it or not, Elladan was having the time of his life.

………

The sunlight spun wildly off the tumbling frail glass surface of the goblet as it slipped from Celebrían's nerveless fingers. Glorfindel's arm shot out and snared it before it could collide with the floor but the Balrog-slayer seemed to not be aware of doing so.

"Greenwood," he repeated slowly. Elrond nodded.

Glorfindel sank backwards into one of the chairs of the study, yet had the chair not been behind him it was likely he would have simply sank to the floor, his legs gone too limp to keep him upright. Celebrían gave a tiny gasp and clenched her hands together tightly. Erestor went stiff as an oak and paler than snow, pressing his lips together tightly. Elrond turned from the window to look back at them with dark grey eyes. "Ay," the Elf Lord said in a tired voice, "they ride to Greenwood."

Glorfindel absently placed the delicate goblet on a small table before dropping his head into his hands and sighing deeply. Celebrían pinched the bridge of her nose as if fighting against a headache and closed her eyes. Erestor shook his head and glanced upward, muttering something under his breath—perhaps to the Valar, perhaps simply to himself.

"When did they leave?" Celebrían asked heavily.

"Early last morn," Elrond replied tightly. He clasped his hands behind his back and resisted the temptation to start pacing.

"What weapons did they take?" Glorfindel asked, voice muffled by hands and hair.

"I have yet to look," Elrond answered him. "Knowing the twins, doubtless the entire armory has been subtly rearranged to prevent anyone from noticing on casual glance that their arms are missing."

"Arwen will most likely know," Celebrían added, eyes still closed.

Elrond sighed. "And to think I was so safely certain they were ensconced somewhere in the valley," he muttered to himself with a self-deprecating frown.

"Yet they would have halted when the snow began; they cannot have traveled very far," Erestor offered tentatively. The others said nothing, just exchanged hopeless looks. Erestor sighed and bowed his head; he had attempted to be hopeful, but he knew it was as unlikely a possibility as the others thought it. Nonetheless, he had had to suggest it.

"Is there any means of finding their trail?" Celebrían asked without hope after a moment.

Glorfindel glanced up at her and shook his head. "Nay, my lady. The snow will have long-covered whatever faint traces they would have left."

Celebrían sighed and slumped slightly against Elrond's desk. "They do not even know where they are going," she murmured quietly.

Erestor snapped quite still and moaned. "The maps…and I showed her all the maps…" he muttered, clutching his forehead in realization. The others glanced at him in confusion.

"Erestor…?" Elrond asked quietly.

With a start, the councilor realized he had spoken aloud. A look of anguish on his face, he spoke sadly. "Lady Arwen was curious as to the location of Greenwood and how far young Fuiniel and Prince Legolas had traveled to arrive here," he said with a sigh of self-recrimination. "Thrilled that the young elleth was showing such an interest in Middle-earth, I showed her the maps in great detail. No doubt she related it all to her brothers for their foolhardy quest. I am sorry, my Lord, my Lady." He hung his head.

"'Twas not your fault, Erestor," Celebrían said kindly. "Knowing my children, they would have found their way to what they needed one way or another. At least this way we can be confident that they are aware of the proper route; thus we may know in which direction they travel and need not fear that they will become lost somewhere far from the path on which we would search."

"I shall set out at once, my Lord and Lady," said Glorfindel, standing up briskly. He bowed and made to leave, his customary humor and vitality returned.

"Hold, Glorfindel," Elrond said quickly 'ere the Gondolin Elf could exit the study. He turned at the door, one golden eyebrow arched curiously. "Setting off in haste will not aid anyone." Hidden behind his back and within heavy sleeves, Elrond's fingers fidgeted as he restrained himself from pacing.

"My Lord, the sooner we set out—" the twice-born Elf Lord began impatiently.

"A few moments are necessary." Elrond started pacing as he spoke without being aware of what he was doing. "Celebrían, my love, I know that you want to go after them, but I would beg you to remain here. It has been ages since you last wielded blade or bow, and I fear that there may be need of using both 'ere this is ended and my heart would be troubled to think of you in peril." His footsteps paused only long enough to meet his wife's eyes. Celebrían hesitated, but at last nodded in acquiescence. While she wished deeply to join the search for her sons, she knew that Elrond spoke truth; she has never been a warrior and she had not practiced for a time that would be called long even to the Elves.

"Very well," she said quietly in both frustrated understanding and resignation.

Elrond smiled softly at his beloved, then resumed pacing. "Glorfindel, if you would be so good as to assemble a small force of volunteers and see that they are outfitted from the chaos that the armory is not doubt left in…?" With a quick bow, the blond Elf darted from the room. "Erestor, would you see to it that supplies and horses are prepared?" The dark-haired one bowed as well, but Elrond continued before he could move to depart. "I would further ask you to aid Celebrían in whatever will be required while I am gone."

Erestor nodded again and moved to leave than froze. "My Lord?" he asked in surprise.

………

Glorfindel fingered the sword strapped to his side. He had carried it ever since his return and while he was not quite as comfortable with it as he had been with the blade he had lost when he lost his life, he was getting there. A few more centuries…

He looked up from his musing as Elrond approached…dressed for riding with a heavy cape and a sword at his waist. Glorfindel had to blink a few times before he could convince himself that he was not hallucinating. The last time he had seen the Lord of Imladris so arrayed had been at the Last Alliance when Gil-galad fell and Sauron tumbled from his shadowy throne. He forced himself to stop gaping although he could not cease to stare. He started even further when he caught the look in Elrond's dark grey eyes.

"My Lord…?" he asked hesitantly.

Elrond glanced over at him as he swung onto his white horse. "I shall be riding with you, Glorfindel," he said coolly, then his eyes flashed. "My children are missing," he said with a quiet fire that would have warned an army of orcs to retreat before he mastered himself again. He continued calmly, voice strained but under careful control. "My sons are riding into danger that they are unprepared for. And if they do not meet that danger, they shall have to face me."

Glorfindel fell silent with a nod and moved into place behind the peredhel as the rest of the Elves assembled near the entrance to the valley. He had not seen Elrond this angry in a very long time—

And the last time he had seen him this frightened had been the last time he had seen the healer bearing a sword. Glorfindel had to shake off a sudden melancholic chill but he could not help but wonder what precisely the other's foresight had shown him that had propelled him into coming along. Elrond's face was drawn tight and there was a distinctly pale cast to it that could not be entirely blamed on the dim day. His eyes were heavy with both worry and anger and each seemed caused by the other.

The Balrog-slayer adjusted his sword to make certain that it would be an instantaneous matter to draw it from its scabbard. Just because he was not worried was no reason not to be prepared, after all.

He glanced up at the sky, searching for the sun, but the swirling snow and dark clouds hit its fair rays from view. Under shadow the small company rode out from Imladris.

Under shadow they rode, and into shadow they traveled.

Reviewer Responses:

Deana – Yes and yes, and I'm sorry you'll have to wait more than previously but hopefully it won't be too bad.

Alma – Thanks, I'm glad the refresher worked all right. As for the twins, well…we'll see how far luck will take them, I suppose. As to the computer, my fingers are definitely going to be perpetually crossed from here on out. Thanks!

Laiquendi – Nothing like visuals to make people forget how long it's been… And Celebrían has to be a clever woman; look at her children! Just to keep up with one of them, but three…? lol

Zammy – thanks muchly, and I'll do my best!

poke-the-penguin – Yep, I'm alive, the computer just temporarily wasn't. Fortunately I've pulled a resurrection. I will hopefully not pull a month again, but it might end up being biweekly. SORRY! I don't like it any more than you do, believe me. Thranduil will be back pretty soon—I've fallen in love with the character, too—and I appreciate the sentiments. I'm glad I didn't die in a freak accident, too. ;)

Aranna – Logic…what is this logic of which you speak? lol Oh yes, lots and lots and lots of snow for our little Elves…and their horses. Yeah, Elvish horses are heavy too. They're pretty much normal horses (no Shadowfaxes) but they've been Elven-trained and bred so they're surer of foot and fleeter and things like that. A bit more than normal, but no Meras. And I'm glad your bones are hard. Ouch. That musta been very not fun. My condolences. And yes, with the twins, I figure ignorance really must be bliss! Or at least a good survival instinct.

EastCoastie – Shortness forgiven, I understand. And send away, I'd love to read—although I will admit that it will take me a while to do so… You can just send it to the e-mail in my bio, that's the only one I use. And many thanks:)

Thanks to everyone again who stuck with the story, and again, apologies. I want you all to know that I really, really appreciate that you keep reading even with such wonderful delays as we just went through. Much love to all of you, and thanks again! I'd be more verbose, but I really need sleep before class tomorrow. Enjoy and good night:D