I am so, so, so sorry that it took me so very, very long to get an update out. I really, really hope to do better in the future and I apologize so much. I cannot possibly tell you how much I appreciate you all sticking with the story with these horrendous periods of waiting. It seriously means so much, and again, I am so, so sorry.

Chapter Twenty-Six: Waiting

The pale moon would have cast a ghostly glow on the white, snow-covered land below were it possible for the moonlight to travel through the blinding fury of the snowstorm that obscured the sky from sight. As it was, even Elven eyes could find only the faintest of glimmers by which to see, and they could see little but the snow swirling in front of them. As night wore on, the storm had only intensified.

Now the four young Elves seemed to be trudging through endless, shadowed white without truly going anywhere. They could not tell where they were, they could not tell how fast they were moving or how far they had traveled, and they had nothing by which to gauge their path. Were it not for Elladan's sense of direction, they would have been hopelessly lost. Of course, until the snow abated, it would be impossible to tell whether or not his belief that West lay over their shoulders and South was somewhere to their right could not be verified. And even Elrohir was less than certain that his brother's ability would be enough to keep them heading the proper direction in this impassable blizzard. Elladan had worried the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood but his confidence was still nowhere to be found.

No, that was not entirely true. He knew where his confidence was; it rode but a few paces behind him, no doubt whistling to himself, although it was impossible to hear Elrohir over the silence of the stifling snow. Perhaps if Elladan could have heard his brother he would have felt less unsure of himself, but the snow swallowed all sound save the relentless wind that beat icy drops against the four bowed heads that urged their mounts steadily onward, into the smothering snow that covered all the land in a pale shroud.

………

Suddenly Elrohir gave a harsh, wordless cry. The wind snatched the voice roughly from his throat, but Elladan sensed his twin's shout more than he heard it. Telling his mount to stop, he turned abruptly on the horse's back just in time to see Legolas slip from his own steed. Both twins leapt from their horses but Fuiniel was faster, hitting the snow almost as soon as the younger elfling. She pulled Legolas to his feet before he had fully landed as the twins raced over on either side of them.

"I am all r-right," they heard Legolas say quietly. "I—I am sorry. I s-slipped off s-somehow," he stammered apologetically, guilt and shame making his pale cheeks flush as the cold made him shiver.

"Worry not," Elrohir assured him quickly.

"'Twas no harm done," Elladan added.

"I-I am s-sorry," the child stuttered again, upset at what he clearly saw as a personal failure.

Elrohir clapped him on the back. "I tell you again, 'twas no harm done," he grinned at the shorter Elf. "Come, back on the horse and off we go."

"You are unhurt?" Elladan asked with a withering look at his brother for not thinking to ask.

Elrohir rolled his eyes at his twin to cover his own embarrassment at the slip but Legolas nodded determinedly.

"Ay," the elfling replied firmly through slightly chattering teeth, "I am fine. We ought to be off again."

Elladan and Elrohir held a silent conference with their eyes, then both shrugged and swung smoothly back onto their own mounts, who gave the twins identical snorts of disbelief at their intention to push on through this atrocious weather. "Very well," Elladan said, glancing back at the elflings. "We shall go further, but be careful, all right?"

"Tell us if you—either of you—do not feel well," Elrohir commanded firmly. "This weather is doubtless ill for all of us, but you two especially so, and it would not do at all for you to fall under the weather, so to speak, on the journey, do you not agree?"

Elrohir received no grins for his—admittedly poor—pun, but only serious nods as the elflings mounted their own horses. He shrugged and Elladan shook his head, as much to state his opinion of Elrohir's humor as to clear his face of snow.

Fuiniel, eyes full of concern, whispered something to Legolas but the wind stole whatever she had said, as well as the boy's response to her comments, before either twin could make out their words.

Elladan turned back to the front and, hoping strongly that they were heading in the right direction, set out again, the others following close behind. He knew that if they became separated, they would be in far more trouble than he wanted to contemplate right now.

If only he knew where they were he would feel a lot better about all of this.

……..

"My lords," Gildor had to shout to be heard through the thickly swirling snow, "think you that we ought to seek for shelter?"

Elrond and Glorfindel ignored Inglorion completely, if they even noted his words. The blond Elf's sharp eyes darted quickly, probing the blinding storm as if he could see through the white curtain if he but stared hard enough. The Balrog-slayer seemed otherwise unaware of the storm swirling threateningly around them. His hood was back, his long hair streamed loose and ice-coated in the wind, and his light cloak flapped heedlessly behind him. Gildor noted that his kinsman had yet to release his grip on the intricate hilt of his sword.

Lord Elrond, likewise, was paying no attention to the dangerous weather. From the few glances Gildor had caught of the expression on the Healer's face, he personally thought it a wonder that the snow did not simply melt away at Elrond's wrath. Gildor shivered, and not from the cold, frigid though that was. A chill that had nothing to do with the snowstorm whipping about them crawled up the Elf's spine and he found his hand hovering unconsciously a hairsbreadth from his own sword. He pulled his hood down further over his face and tried to ignore the creeping feeling that something was very, very wrong…

………

Elrohir abruptly stopped his horse. The others felt the tug of a slim rope that had been tied in turn to each elfling's wrist a few hours ago when visibility had dropped dangerously low. One by one they, too, halted their mounts and turned to peer through the blinding whiteness at the young Elf Lord. They clustered together, their sharp eyes barely able to make out their companions' faces, even as close as they were now.

"This is impossible!" the younger of the twins said, speaking loudly to prevent the storm from stealing his words. "We are unable to see anything—anything!—in this mess. While I well know you can find your way nigh anywhere without qualm, even be you blindfolded, brother," he said to Elladan with the barest hint of a smirk behind the icicle-locks that half-obscured his face, "this is somewhere we have never traveled 'ere now in most baffling conditions." Elrohir's intense grey eyes fastened sharply on his brother's. "Tell me," he said, deeply serious, "do you know where we are going?"

Elladan hesitated. Elrohir waited patiently while his brother closed his eyes, took a deep breath of the snow-choked air, and searched. Fuiniel shifted her feet and fingered the hilt of her sword, her dark eyes glaring into the snow as if it were a curtain designed specifically to limit her field of vision. Legolas shivered and pulled his cloak tighter around him, trying very hard not to shiver. Elrohir was as still as Elladan, his gaze locked sharply on his twin while the snow fell about them. Finally, Elladan opened his eyes. His shoulders slumped slightly and he shook his hooded head.

"Nay," the older twin said softly. "That is, I believe I do…but as you said, 'tis not somewhere with which I am in any way familiar, and the wind and strength of this storm may well cause me to misjudge."

Elrohir nodded. "As you say, then. Shall we chance a search for shelter?"

Elladan shook his head again. "Where would we look—and for what? And the search may well carry us further off course."

"If we are off course," the younger twin put in quickly.

Elladan shrugged, uncertain. "I am unwilling to risk it."

Elrohir mimicked his brother's shrug, unconcerned, and tried futilely to brush snow clumps from his own hair and that of his horse, who snorted at him for his efforts. "'Tis your decision." Dropping a small bag from his back, the young Elf quickly searched through it. He came up with four apples, slightly shriveled from storage and cold, and offered one in turn to each of their horses.

Elladan lifted Legolas down from his mount before the young prince could protest. "Cup your hands and give a few drops of this to each of the horses, please," he asked the child, taking the small bottle that had hung from his shoulder and draping its strap around the small elfling's neck. Legolas nodded seriously and turned to the first of the faithful animals.

Fuiniel looked supremely unhappy as she slid from her mount but held her tongue. She certainly did not know where they were, and every step they took off course was more time wasted, yet so was every pause, and to do so at night… The young Elf-maid's hand tightened firmly around the hilt of her sword as she resolved that she, at least, would not sleep tonight.

Elrohir caught the determination in her eye. "Do not worry so," he assured the child and clapped a hand to her snow-coated shoulder. "No orcs roam this close to Imladris. Save your watchfulness for when we draw nearer to your own borders."

Fuiniel and Elladan each raised an eyebrow in almost identical expressions of disbelief, but it was the elder twin who spoke first. "And yet Lord Glorfindel encountered a band but a little distance beyond this when first he met our young companions."

"Encountered and dispatched," Elrohir pointed out. "And no one had seen any sign of them since."

Elladan frowned, looking eerily like his father in one of Elrond's sterner moods. "Still," he began, but Elrohir interrupted.

"All right, all right! I see your point, O Cautious One!" But while his tone was mocking the younger twin's eyes were serious and he checked to see that his sword was still secure at his waist.

Elladan rolled his eyes and turned to see that the horses were as comfortable as could be, murmuring an apology for the wind and lack of grass. His mount blew a miruvor-scented raspberry at him and lipped his elbow, as if to say that he was an extraordinarily dense young Elf if he thought she could possibly be comfortable out here in this most inconsiderate storm when there was a warm and cozy stable with no wind and plenty of greens she could be enjoying instead, warm drink or no warm drink. Elladan rolled his eyes again and patted the mare's neck affectionately before settling himself next to his brother in the snow.

It wasn't long before a considerable drift had built up at their backs and, while it was slightly icy, it did cut the wind a bit. Wrapped snugly in their light cloaks, Elves and horses settled down to wait for a lull in the snow.

………

The pale white flakes drifted down in slow swirls, dancing softly in the light wind that penetrated the protected valley of Imladris. Celebrían stood still and silent as a shadow on the balcony as she watched the snow. Her hands were clenched so tightly together that they had gone completely white at the knuckles and her fair face was furrowed in concern. Her silver locks hung loose about her pointed ears and half-obscured her visage from view, although the pale curtain did nothing to shut out the sight of the deepening snow. It was growing thick, and a thick snowfall in Imladris meant storms outside the Elven valley.

Outside, where her sons were. Alone and unprotected, with no companions save two very small elflings they would have to care for. Celebrían knew very well why she could not ride to find them. While once a moderately talented archer and decent enough with a sword, it had been a long time indeed since she had last wielded either. She was a very good rider, light and nimble with a strong connection to her steed, but speed and surefootedness would do little good if the worst came to pass.

The worst…Celebrían refused to allow herself to think of that. Better by far to still her thoughts and lose herself watching the cold wet whiteness drift slowly past her clouded grey eyes.

The Elf-woman stirred slightly when she felt a faint presence join her side. She glanced down and managed a small smile for her daughter, whose face was as drawn and pale as her own. Arwen slipped a slim hand in hers and together mother and daughter stood and watched the snow fall, neither speaking, both trying not to think…not to fear.

………

The shadows gliding slowly across the floor made as much noise as Tiraran did when the Elvish gon silently paused in the doorway. Nonetheless, Tarlas noticed his presence. The advisor turned to regard his friend with hooded eyes. Tiraran could see only hopelessness and heartbreak in their grey depths. Sighing, the warrior moved smoothly to join the other where he sat a lonely vigil at the edge of a bed that held the last remnants of faded hope.

Tiraran found that he had to swallow once or twice 'ere he could find voice with which to speak. His words were hushed, little more than a whisper, as if he feared disturbing the rest of the frail figure he looked down upon. "There is still no sign of Aglarmegil," he told Tarlas softly. "I have patrols searching, but…"

"He is lost to us as well, then," Tarlas sighed sadly.

Tiraran could not bring himself to reply with anything more than a nod. "I…would wager, from what I know of him, that he went searching for some clue as to the fate of…of our prince…" Words failed the warrior and he looked away from the silent figure in the bed.

Tarlas said nothing for a moment, but at last he spoke. "He would do so, injured as he was?"

"Ay," Tiraran replied firmly. "Aglarmegil is…was…always too hard on himself. I do not think he ever even forgave himself for the lives lost in the…Alliance. Guilt rides hard…rode hard…on his shoulders."

Tarlas nodded. He had not known the missing Elf well, but Tiraran knew every one of his warriors as if he were brother to them all. He would not be wrong about something so important.

For a long time, neither of them spoke. Their gazes were dragged in spite of themselves back to the silent figure before them. Their eyes were dull and lifeless, as if reflecting the shadow that had fallen over—that had, indeed, consumed—their lord.

"It will not be long, will it," Tarlas murmured.

"The snows will keep the pass bloked another month, perhaps two," Tiraran replied quietly.

They stood in silence, gazing with empty eyes at the fading echo of their aralor.

"It will not be long," Tarlas whispered. Tiraran could only nod.

Reviewer Responses:

Swasti – Not at all, and I'm just sorry you caught up only to have me fall behind. As for Thranduil, well…hey, at least he made another appearance. Kinda…

kel – gotta love the elfings. No wonder Elladan and Elrohir never (as far as anyone knows) did the whole marriage-parent-kids thing, if this is what they dealt with when they were young! ;)

Sadie Elfgirl – Thank you! Yes, more Elrond next chapter, being very dangerous methinks. And sorry, the kids and the twins are just a little, uh, dense. Hopefully they'll eventually figure out that they're morons, but you never know—stiff necks of the Elves, and all that…

Aranna – Well, the infamous "they" are just evil, then. Go bash them in the head with a sword, or something. Yep, Icicle Elrohir, that can be his new name. Who knows, maybe he'll start a new fashion? And I am so glad that everybody likes my Elrond! Thanks!

Laiquendi – I live to please, my dear. And so, just for you, POOF: Thranduil. Erm, more or less, at least…

EastCoastie – Look, look! Thranduil! There was a Thranduil sighting! From a, ah, certain point of view, that is… Okay, so it was lame, but hey, at least he was there. Not my fault the big guy's not too interesting to be around just now. Er, okay, maybe it is, but you know what I mean! Oh, and thank you again!

I'm sorry, between shuttling around to see all the people I haven't since Christmas pretty much, and then working full-time at the comic book store, I just had trouble finding time to write. I'm really, really sorry—and then I had to come out with a sort of transitional chapter that pretty much did nothing but preserve status quo and move us along to next chapter…seriously, I'm on my knees here!—forgive me? Next chapter should be pretty cool, I promise! There'll be more than "the snow got worse" next time, I mean it! And I'll really, really, really try to get it out soon, okay? I appreciate your interest so much, and I'm sorry to do this to you all, I really, really am, believe me. Deepest most heartfelt apologies! SORRY!