Hello all! Here's the next chapter of Landslide. Thanks once more to you who review! Please keep it up! Reviews are my life bread!
Those of you who love the twins (I know I do!!) will really enjoy this chapter. Also, this chapter pretty much concludes the portion of the story that's already written. I have the remainder in my head and sketched out on paper. However, if anyone would like to suggest a significant addition or change in direction of this story, please feel free to e-mail me at the address below! I'm not necessarily saying that I'll change anything, but I'll certainly give any and all suggestions some serious thought.
Thanks again! Please enjoy and review!
Landslide
Chapter IV
By Nekomegami_chan
Nekomegami_chan@hotmail.com
Well, I've been
afraid of changing 'cause I built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
I'm getting older, too
Well I'm getting older too
Elrohir crouched low, silently stalking his prey through the dense foliage. Elladan's call was the flawless imitation of a raven as it sounded a furlong to his left. His twin was flanking him. They were going to drive the unsuspecting boar into a nearby cliff face in order to corner the beast. The technique was a dangerous one, considering the violent strength of the massive wild pig, but it was a reliable tactic.
Elrohir checked the fletching on his arrow, notched it to the string, and was only mildly surprised to find himself stifling a yawn.
* * *
Elladan had woken him well before dawn, throwing back the bed curtains in a flurry of crimson silk and shining a thick wax candle in Elrohir's sleepy face.
"Arise, brother!" We are going hunting," Elladan explained with far more cheer than the early hour called for.
Elrohir blinked in the flickering glow of the tiny fire and scowled at his twin's grinning face. "Be gone!"
Elladan tugged at the blankets, pulling the swan's down quilt off his brother's slim body. "Nay, dear Elrohir," he said, his expression sobering. "I will not. You are going to accompany me on the hunt today."
Elrohir rolled onto his side, turning his back on Elladan and murmuring less than polite words. Elladan set the candle on the night stand and took his brother by the arm. Dragging him, with snarled protests from the warm bed to drop him on the floor. Elladan towered over his stubborn twin, not offering to help him up.
"By Elbereth, Elrohir! I'll not watch you pine away for Legolas another day! He will arrive as soon as he is able, he said as much in his letter. It may well be that the mountain pass he sought to take was blocked, forcing him to retrace his steps for a time. Or else it is possible that he stopped to acquire a gift for you. That he has done before. Anything could have delayed him, and not all is evil," Elladan's tone softened. "It has only been a fortnight. Fear not."
Elladan finally held out his hand and Elrohir took it saying, "Thank you, Elladan."
Elladan only smiled in response to the heartfelt gratitude. "Now," he said briskly, "Dress quickly so that we may begin. Glorfindel insists that his ancient bones are of the opinion that it will snow this afternoon. And I for one, do not wish to be weighted down with a carcass in it."
* * *
It had been no trouble to kill the boar, only the ever exhilarating dance of cunning and speed which both elves thoroughly enjoyed. Yet in the breathless aftermath of the kill, Elrohir's thoughts were quickly consumed by Legolas. And once more, without knowing precisely why, Elrohir worried.
* * *
Legolas' horse arrived late that afternoon. He wore no saddle nor bridle nor any identifying mark but that which was the brand of Rohan, where he had been born and raised.
Arod was a pale dapple gray with a finely dished head and a fiery disposition. He had frequently been stabled at Rivendell after the War of the Ring and as such, felt quite comfortable making himself at home there.
Elrohir was just bringing his own gelding a square of buttermilk bread leftover from lunch when Arod trotted into the stable yard and let himself into an open stall. Shaking the thin covering of snow off his winter coat, the horse plunged his greedy nose into the manger.
After a brief moment of surprise, Elrohir burst out laughing. He laughed until tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. He hadn't meant to do so, but it had felt so good after his two long weeks of anxious waiting. It was only as Elrohir went to offer Arod a square of bread that he fully realized the portent of the horse's arrival.
Legolas had decided to cross through the mountains, through passes that could only be reached by foot. That much was obvious. It was the most direct way. That meant that he would have had to have let Arod loose so that the horse could circumvent the steepest terrain. The added distance should have taken Arod several days more, perhaps even half a week longer to navigate, than Legolas' straightforward route.
Sobering completely, Elrohir called for the stable master, saying, "Ready my horse for the morn. I will need a traveling saddle, and he will need to be shod so as to grip any ice we may come upon. I will have supplies sent down this evening."
The short haired stable master bowed and left off the harness he had been polishing. "At once, Young Lord."
* * *
Elrohir tapped on the door of his father's library. The hour was now late and the Lord of the Last Homely House was taking his leisure among the scrolls there. A glass of fine elven brandy rested on the table at his elbow as he sat in a large leather chair beside the smoldering hearth.
"Ada?" Elrohir called. "Might I have a word with you?"
The elder elf's voice filtered through the solid oak door, quieted yet not muffled by the polished wood. "Enter, my son."
Elrohir did as he was bidden, closing the door at his back and moving to stand in front of his father. "Ada, I wish to be direct --"
"That is good," interjected Elrond, looking up from the book he had been pursuing. Elrohir thought it strange that his exquisitely mannered father would so sharply interrupt him, but he said nothing about the odd behavior.
"I am to ride out early tomorrow morning," Elrohir continued, looking Elrond in they eyes. "A shadow plagues my thoughts and my heart is troubled. I had expected Legolas to arrive days ago, he said to look for him from the southeast. He meant to travel through the Misty Mountains. Even with this weather, he should have been here by now."
Much to Elrohir's astonishment, Elrond closed his book and set it aside. He rose and clasped his son by the shoulder. "Very well, Elrohir. I shall come with you."
"With me? Father, why?" Elrohir asked, completely taken aback by the unexpected offer. He had been prepared for Elrond's permission, his indifference or even an argument on the grounds that the prince was needed to conduct his affairs of state at his father's side. After all they were helping to orchestrate the departure of the elves from Middle Earth! But this - for this Elrohir found no words to express his confusion. The half-elven Lord of Imladris almost never left his beloved home.
"Because mere moments before you knocked I received a message from Galadriel, and of a subject which I was wondering just now how to breach with you..."
Elrohir felt his chest constrict and his head pounded, making him nauseous. Although he did not wish to ask, he felt he must know. "Legolas - he is dead then? We are to retrieve his remain--"
Elrond swept his son into a tight embrace, petting the slighter elf's long dark hair. "Nay! Nay, he is not dead! Not that we know. Your grandmother, she said only that she had seen Legolas' reflection in her mirror and that he had been waylaid. He is still alive as far as she can tell, but she believes he may have been wounded. Beyond that, she knows not."
Elrohir broke away from his father's arms. "Very well, then. We shall leave tonight! I will send a servant to -"
"No, my son. This is why I hesitated to tell you tonight. We must make the proper arrangements to travel. I have already ordered for my healing supplies to be packed into a saddlebag. The maids are gathering extra cloaks and blankets. The cooks are preparing waybread for the morn. We will be of little help to your Legolas if we arrive unprepared."
Grudgingly, Elrohir consented.
