Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama/Angst
Summary: A simple hunting trip turns into a disaster as Elladan and Elrohir are attacked by orcs. With Elrohir being seriously hurt, their only chance lies now in the hands of Aragorn and Legolas....but will they meet in time? Main Characters: Elladan, Elrohir, Aragorn, and Legolas.
E-mail: kaeera@yahoo.de
Feedback: Always appreciated, and constructive criticism is very welcome
Notes: Okay, and here its is, the longawaited chapter in which....noo, I won't tell it, you can read it yourself. I thought that I would have more time to write in the holidays, but I was wrong...since I am working eight hours a day, I have even lesser time than when I was in school. *sighs* And of course there is the fact that this story plays in winter, while it is SO hot outside that I would like to walk around in my underwear all day. Really...I have never experienced such a hot sumemr in Germany. Gah. Our rivers are drying out! And in the midst of this, you're supposed to write of freezing rangers...that's really tough!
When the Snow Falls
Chapter Nine: Light in the darkness
Elrond sighed for maybe the twentieth time in this hour and looked out the window. He couldn't help it. The tingling feeling in the back of his head wouldn't stop, telling him that something was seriously wrong. He doubted that Aragorn and Legolas would return to Imladris without any injuries.
That thought brought him to another topic of worry: the twins. They too, were out there in this weather, enduring the snow-storm and whatever else was lurking in the woods. Elrond knew that they were old enough to look out for themselves – but he also knew how they attracted trouble, and that was the reason he didn't stop worrying.
A small smile played around the corners of his mouth as he watched the snow, memories of those peaceful years, millennias ago, passed through his mind. Their small, but happy family, Celebrian, the twins, Arwen and himself, often enjoyed the different seasons together in Imladris. Elladan and Elrohir had been such pranksters while younger, and Elrond had often found it difficult to remain stern during their lectures.
Like the time when Elladan decided that he didn't want to look like his brother anymore, and had cut his hair…by the Valar, he had looked ridiculous! And Celebrian had nearly thrown a tantrum, seeing her son like that, hair cut short like a normal man.
Later the two had realised that it could be quite practical to have a brother who's your mirror-image – they used it to play tricks on guests in Imladris, or to play pranks on their friends.
And now they were adults, strong warriors, elves every father could be proud of. And even now, after all those years, they still had a streak of mischievousness. They still liked playing pranks, and when Elrond looked into their sparkling eyes, they were no different than they were nearly three thousand years ago.
He was glad about it, more than glad. There had been a time when he had believed that that childish side of the twins was gone for good – namely the time his precious wife had been attacked by orcs.
An expression of sadness crossed his face at the memory. It happened such a long time ago, and it still hurt. Elrond had loved Celebrian dearly, and her departure hit him more than he had wanted to admit. Their whole family had been affected, and it had taken Elladan and Elrohir many years to smile again.
The years had passed, and they continued living, had adapted to the empty void left by the Lady, and peace had come over Imladris again, disturbed only by the occasional antics of the twins. Arwen had gone to Lothlorien, making Rivendell even duller than it had already been before.
And then Arathorn had been killed, in an infamous, murderous battle. He had been a very good friend and his death had hit Elrond quite hard, although he had known that he was a man and would therefore pass on one day. But alas, elves rarely thought of death, for they knew it not, and so Arathorn's death had been a shock.
But with death, there often comes a new light, and this light had been Aragorn. As a little child he had been brought to Imladris, and Elrond had immediately liked the child with the huge, frightened eyes. He knew of the burden on Aragorn's shoulders, knew of the responsibility he would someday carry, and so Elrond took him in, caring for him as if he were his own child.
The twins had been happy, of course. They now had someone to play pranks with, someone they could teach their antics to. They often were more of an influence on Aragorn than Elrond, resulting in elves that either were annoyed by the young human or elves that loved him and his endearing smile.
Alas, there had also been the day when Aragorn had called him 'Ada' for the first time.
With a smile the Lord shook his head. His mind was wandering off again, despite the worry he felt in his heart.
Outside, Imladris was still snow-covered, lying under a thick blanket of the white substance. Several elves were outside, cleaning the paths or simply enjoying the scenery. He could even see some of the younger guards attempting a snowball-fight.
Elrond studied the scenery, inwardly wishing that it were his sons who were out there playing in the snow, for then he wouldn't need to worry.
The silence was tangible, muffling the faint sound coming towards them as if a thick blanket surrounded them. They hardly dared to breathe as they waited for what would come, their weapons clutched tightly in their hands.
Only Elrohir showed no signs of nervousness, probably because the younger twin was still on his trip to la-la land, unaware of the three worried presences around him.
The sounds drew closer, and everyone tensed even more - if that was possible. Then suddenly a figure plopped down from the trees and landed softly on top of the snow, then straightened slowly to its full height.
Long, blonde hair glittered in the weak sunlight and with an audible sigh of relief, all weapons were dropped.
"Glorfindel!" Elladan exclaimed. He felt his knees go weak at the immense relief he felt. "Thank the Valar it is you!"
The blonde warrior smiled, although surprise was mixed into it, for he had expected only Aragorn and Legolas, not the twins as well. "Well, who did you expect?"
His gaze wandered over the four, noticing their haggard appearances, the pale, sweaty face of Aragorn, the bleeding on Legolas' leg – and the unconscious Elrohir draped over Elladan's back. "What happened?" He asked worriedly and stepped closer, the rest of his soldiers following.
Legolas grimaced. "Orcs, wolves, and a really bad storm."
"Ah, I see." Glorfindel frowned, not liking the situation at all. Legolas and Elladan seemed to be okay, but it was a totally different matter for the other two. Aragorn seemed to be seriously ill and Elrohir was far too pale for the blonde elf's taste.
"Here, let me help you." He said softly to Elladan, indicating that he would carry Elrohir the rest of the way. The older twin seemed ready to plop down any second.
At first it seemed as if Elladan wanted to refuse, but then he realised that it would be better if Glorfindel carried Elrohir. He handed his brother over.
"Be careful, he was hit on the head." The elf whispered.
Glorfindel's frown increased. "Has he woken?" He took the limp body in his arms and lifted him on his shoulders.
"Yes. Yes. He was awake a while ago. We tried to keep him awake, but…" Elladan's voice trailed off, and Glorfindel nodded grimly. Elrohir's head wound seemed to a serious one and he decided the rest of his questions could wait.
"Help them!" he directed the rest of the elves, and returned to the path. They had to return to Imladris, as fast as possible.
As the small group hurried off, Glorfindel glanced at Elrohir's dead weight on his shoulders. He could feel the soft, uneven breaths of the younger elf on the side of his neck, but that was the only sign of life he received. Elrohir's eyelashes were dark on his nearly white face, and his eyes were shut tightly.
Glorfindel knew the dangers of head wounds and he knew they had to hurry, for it seemed that Elrohir had already lapsed into a comatose state.
The forest around them was still and silent and the blonde elf shuddered. Suddenly, he didn't like the silence anymore.
Aragorn stumbled forward, only half aware of the elf by his side, helping him walk. The man's fever had risen over the last few minutes and he felt like he was walking in a trance.
Silently he cursed. He knew what he was feeling right now, he knew this wasn't a simple cold and he knew that for the next few days he would be quite uncomfortable.
'And I promised myself I would never catch pneumonia again!', he thought miserably. 'It seems the Valar have a strange sense of humour. How often can a human get this illness, anyway?'
Pondering that fact didn't help and he soon stopped thinking about it at all, for it hurt far too much. His head already felt as if some rather nasty dwarves were challenging each other with large hammers inside it. It pounded in time to the rhythm of his heart, and sent a wave of pain through his whole body when he made an unexpected movement.
He had forgotten how long they had been walking, but it no longer seemed important. Dimly the ranger realised he was ready to plop down to the ground any second, but somehow he managed to continue walking.
'Thank Elbereth for my stubbornness', Aragorn smiled inwardly. 'Come to think of it, Ada always complained I was too stubborn for my own good, but now it has paid off.'
"Aragorn?" a gentle voice prodded.
The man blinked, realising he had been staring off into space. "Yeah. I'm here." he mumbled. "Although I wish it were someone else in my body instead of me, then he could deal with this headache."
The blonde elf beside him looked at him worriedly. "You are feeling really sick, aren't you?"
Aragorn laughed, but the laugh turned into a painful cough. "That's the understatement of the century."
"Well, at least you can still joke, it can't be that bad if that mouth of yours is still working!" Legolas grinned wryly.
"Excuse me if I don't laugh at your marvellous joke right now, your highness, but maybe I will find a few moments for that next week." Aragorn snorted and immediately regretted the action as a burning pain shot through his forehead. "Uh…"
Legolas sent him another worried look and decided not to answer. It was probably not a good time to have another argument. He left the human and walked over to Glorfindel, who was carrying Elrohir on his back.
"How much longer until we reach Imladris?"
Glorfindel glanced at him. "Maybe two hours. We should meet the rest of the warriors soon. They have horses and more supplies to treat your wounds. Then we can continue our trek."
The Prince of Mirkwood nodded and looked back at Elladan who hadn't spoken a single word since they had started walking. The older twin seemed almost catatonic, and that worried Legolas. Alas, it could be that it was only the result of his exhaustion, even the twins couldn't keep up this relentless pace forever (although they claimed to), but he doubted it.
"I just hope that it won't be too late." He hadn't intended for anyone to overhear his words but Glorfindel understood them nonetheless.
"I hope so too my friend." He nodded grimly. "I hope so too."
As they walked the silence grew more and more unbearable. Not only were Legolas and Glorfindel worried, the rest of the elves were as well, for they knew – and liked – both Elrohir and Aragorn. Nobody wanted to see either one hurt.
It was strange how they had all adjusted to a mortal living under the same roof, accepting him as one of their own. Sure, there were a few exceptions, but those elves usually stayed away from Aragorn, and they were few.
They all shared an equal sigh of relief when the warriors on horseback finally came into view.
Glorfindel nodded to Tirmael who was worriedly looking at Elladan. He knew the younger elf had been a good friend of the twins when they were younger, and although they weren't that close anymore, they still respected and liked each other. Sometimes they went on hunting parties together, acting like little elflings instead of the experienced warriors they were.
"We have to hurry." Glorfindel simply said, and Tirmael nodded, hurrying off to the horses.
Glorfindel glanced over his shoulder at the face of Elrohir, feeling the worry like a dead weight on his heart. 'Ai, the younger ones', he thought frustrated, 'why do they always have to worry their elders?'
He felt slightly strange referring to himself as an elder (he certainly didn't feel like one), but when one compared his age to that of the twins, he really *was* old. And compared to Aragorn…he smiled amusedly when he compared his thousands of years to the twenty-five years of the young ranger.
His face became serious again. No time to joke around, they had a goal to reach.
He had walked for endless hours, the beach always stayed the same, and with time, he had become tired. His feet were aching and he was beginning to feel more and more desperate. It was really annoying that the landscape never changed at all, and with the time, it began to frighten him.
Once again he wondered if he was going mad, or if he already had, but after pondering this idea for a while, he realised he really couldn't find a solution, so he stopped worrying about it.
After a while, he stopped thinking completely and walked in a kind of daze, the landscape blurring beside him. It was like sleep-walking, only he was still conscious of what he was doing. Strangely, he liked this feeling. It was detached, and he didn't have to feel so many confusing emotions any more. Even the loss of his memory didn't seem to disturb him as much as before.
He didn't know how long he had been walking like this – mere minutes, hours, or maybe even days – but suddenly something changed.
He was jolted back into reality, woken out of his trance, as something appeared on the beach. It was a huge shadow, too far away to be seen clearly, but it definitely was a *change* in the scenery. He blinked, and quickened his pace, feeling a small measure of hope rise in his chest. This might be the answer to all this questions.
His feet didn't make any noise on the sand as he hurried, nearly ran, towards it. As he came closer, shapes formed out of the dark mass and to his surprise, he saw that it was a huge building. It was beautifully constructed; the columns were decorated with nice carvings and large windows and doors illuminated the rooms with dim, greyish light.
Still, it seemed that something was missing. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it seemed as if the building was incomplete – as if it were only part of another building, much bigger than this one alone
A faint hope lingered in his mind, maybe he knew this building. Maybe someone inside knew *him* and could tell him who he was.
He walked closer and came to a sudden halt in front of the huge door. The two wings of the door were bigger than him and uncomplicated pictures of flowers and birds were carved into the dark brown wood. Although they were simple, he couldn't help but admire their beauty. Their creator had caught the essence of the animals and he could imagine he heard them singing.
Strange…why could he remember the song of a bird, yet he didn't know his own name? He'd rather have it the other way round…
Even though he wasn't on the beach anymore, he could still hear the sound of the waves. It was strange how he got used to that sound. At first the constant noise had been annoying, but now he found it somewhat peaceful and calming.
Still, he couldn't understand why nobody was here. Such a large house…somebody *had* to be living here! It didn't look like it was abandoned – there was furniture everywhere and no dust was to be found – but the creepy silence told him that – at least for now – nobody was here.
The wings of the door stood open, revealing a rather large room behind them. He stood in silence, one hand against the doorframe while he stared into the interior.
It took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the dim light, but then he could clearly see the grand hall in front of him. It was very high, and there were big windows everywhere. Some with stained glass, some leading directly to the outside. If the sun hadn't been hidden behind the clouds, this room – no, hall – would have been illuminated very nicely.
But it remained dim, even when he stepped into it. His feet padded over the floor and he flinched slightly as he noticed that the silence in this building wasn't any different from the silence outside.
"Hello?" He called, but his words got lost in the enormous space of the hall.
"Is anyone there?"
No reply. His shoulders sagged. It seemed as if this building was empty as well, as empty as the sea and the beach. He had the feeling he should know where he was, but he couldn't remember. Everything seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't remember why or how. It was frustrating, and it was driving him insane.
He walked through several corridors and opened the doors to a few rooms, only to reveal more and more empty spaces. It was strange, it appeared to be a place where many people lived, and this emptiness was…was…simply not right!
His hand traced the walls as he walked further into the building.
Suddenly, he froze. He had heard a sound. He had heard a sound!
He stopped in his tracks, his fingers trembling slightly. There it was again! A sound! Not like the crying of the gulls, but…but…more like…laughter!
Laughter?
Yes, it definitely was laughter. He spun around, only to encounter something that confused him even more – if that were possible.
The sound echoed through the halls, as small feet hurriedly tapped over the floor, trying to reach their destination as fast as possible. He froze in shock when he was suddenly confronted with other living beings. He was half afraid and half anxious of what might happen, as he waited with tense muscles.
"I'm faster!" shouted a high, childish voice.
"Never!" replied an identical voice. They both giggled and he could hear them drawing closer.
"YAAAAHH!" one of the voices screamed, and a small figure skidded around the corner, sliding on the slick floor. Another shadow followed, not far behind, and he immediately stepped backwards, confused. Why…children???
But he had seen correctly - two children were racing towards him, their faces nearly identical. Long, dark brown hair was tided in neat little braids, and long pointed ears indicated that they belonged to the same race as him. They didn't seem to notice him though. They were caught in their game, and everything else was unimportant.
Big, trustful eyes sparkled with laughter as they both ran past him, hair flying in the wind. He simply stood there, frozen, as they ran along the corridor, the echo of their feet strangely clear in his head. He could hear them giggling and then suddenly, the sound stopped, silence falling over the place again..
He stared at the place where the children had been realising in shock that they had disappeared, just like that.
"Hello?" He called helplessly, but he knew that it was useless before the words even left his mouth.
Those children had been so happy, so very knowing of who and where they were – the exact opposite of him. He would have liked to ask them some questions, but he was alone again, and the feeling of despair once again began to creep in his heart.
"Where am I?" Even his toneless whisper was blown away with the wind, his words unheard in the enormous interior of the house.
"We are there!" Tirmael shouted and gestured forward. The impressive buildings of Imladris stretched over the tree tops.
Glorfindel looked up and felt relief spread through his body.
The last few hours had been torture. The four they had rescued were at the end of their strength and their pace had been incredibly slow, despite the help of the horses.
Soon they had been soaked through to their bones, and even the weather hardened elves began to feel the clinging coldness in their limbs. Glorfindel didn't even want to imagine how it had been for the others who'd been out in the cold longer than they – especially Aragorn.
He waved to one of the guards. "Hurry forward and tell Elrond we have returned; he will need to have herbs and warm water ready. We will meet him in the house of healing."
The elf simply nodded and ran ahead, his long, braided hair moving in the chilly wind.
//And the black waves continued to splash against the shore
As he was caught in the world of his dreams
Unable to feel
Unable to remember
Unable to escape
Just the sea, and the cries of the gulls//
When they finally stumbled into the halls of Imladris, tired, worn-out and wet from the snow, Aragorn had stopped believing he would ever feel warm again. The rest of his journey was like a dream, and he vaguely remembered they had nearly dragged him home in the end. He was so tired he didn't even have the strength to feel happy about being safely home again– he simply wanted to sleep.
The warm air pricked-at his frozen fingers and numbly, he noticed that several elves were running and shouting around him. He simply stood there, unable to take one more step. He was certain his legs would fall off if he tried to move.
That reminded Aragorn of the fact that he couldn't *feel* his legs anymore. Dumbly, he blinked down at them. They were still there, hidden in his boots. So why couldn't he feel them?
He tried to wriggle a toe, but nothing happened so he stopped trying and looked around instead.
'Elbereth! Why is everything so blurry?'
'And what is Ada doing there with Elrohir? And why does Elladan look absolutely terrified? And why…why am I feeling so tired?'
A strong arm slung itself around his shoulders, as his body suddenly slumped forward, his strength gone.
"Aragorn?" A worried voice queried, and the ranger frowned – he knew he should know that voice but he couldn't recall a matching face.
Long, blonde hair flew around his shoulders and he looked down at it, mildly confused. The last time he had looked in the mirror, his hair had been brown…strange.
"You really need a healer!" the unknown voice commented, laying a hand on his forehead.
Aragorn mumbled something under his breath. He couldn't quite recall why, but he didn't like seeing healers. He had a nasty feeling that such a visit always involved disgusting teas and medicines. However, his mouth wouldn't obey his brain, and the only thing he could do was follow as the other person half led, half carried him through several doors.
Soon another presence was next to him and it took him in a warm welcome embrace –Ada? he wondered shortly, but the thought escaped hi, before he could get a grip on it. Suddenly warmth flooded over him, taking the tension out of his sore muscles and he soon fell into the welcoming darkness.
"It's always the same with you, Estel." was the last thing he heard as his mind decided that it was time to shut off completely.
To be continued...
Phew, now the first half – the out-in-the-woods-half – is done. I sincerely hope that the second half will be shorter. I actually intended this story to be only slightly longer than 'Fever Dreams' (maybe six or seven chapters), and now look at it…*sighs
xsilicax – Hmm…I always wonder…where does YOUR name come from, anyway? Is there a story behind it? Oh well, I guess you can be glad, it IS Glor after all…but Aragorn is feeling miserable, and Elrohir…*smiles*
Celestra – Somehow, Elrohir's parts get more and more interesting. At the same time, I have no idea what to write in the reality…elves that are worrying, I guess. *lol* Always the same pattern. Yep, and it was a cliffie, but not a bad one…I have been the victim of a rather nasty cliffhanger, for I ordered a book of my favourite author, which ended in a sentence like: 'He raised his helmet, and Charity froze as she saw who was under it.' And then it stops, and I HAVE NO IDEA when the next book will appear…*sobs*
Tears of Eternity – Uhm…I am not very well-known for writing good twists in a story. The hell, I haven't even planned the end yet…but I guess it's predictable. If one knows my style of writing. Argh, I have no idea! Well, we learn the old German way of speaking/writing as well in school, because we read all those old dramas (Goethe, Schiller, Lessing), but we didn't do that in English yet. But we will read Shakespeare next year^^
Erothwen - *lol* It's funny to get to know how people are REALLY called. You know, my name is a boy's name in Italy…so when I went there for an exchange, everyone expected a boy. *laughs* And they were surprised because I was so tall^^
Ellyrianna – Well…I can understand why you like Estel that much, but actually I wanted to focus this story on 'Ro…Aragorn is just an added bonus! *snickers*
andrea – Gosh, those new habit of ff.net of adding numbers to names is somehow confusing…There will be more flashes of memories in the next chapters, and I already referred to some of my other stories, if anybody noticed. I like writing such scenes^^
Gwyn – You want more, you have it! Hope ya like it!
reginabean – No dying under my reviewers! *stern look* How do you want to find out what happens if you are dead??
Shauna – Of course they are all in a bad shape! After all, it's ME who's writing this story. Did you expect otherwise? I am addicted to angst and drama…and I guess we will see a lot of Elladan angsting in the next few chapters.
Shaan Lien – Legolas isn't injured with a gash on his head, but on his leg, that's the reason why he couldn't carry Elrohir. Elladan was the only one in the little group who remained unhurt.
Melissa - *grr* Okay, I remember next time not to spoil you again…really, you give a little finger and they take the whole hand…*sighs* But here's the next chapter, are you happy?...and I DON'T want to hear anyone complaining! *glares*
Salara – Deine Warterei war nicht umsonst! Du warst übrigens die einzige, der das mit dem Meer so richtig aufgefallen ist. Eigentlich war es eher Zufall, dass ich dieses Szenario gewählt habe, bis mir irgendwann dann eingefallen ist, dass es eigentlich perfekt passt…da war ich ganz stolz auf mich! *lacht* Naja, die Retter sind ja jetzt da, aber Elrohir geht es immer noch nicht besser…das Thema Koma fand ich halt schon immer faszinierend, deshalb entwickelt die Story auch so langsam Überlänge (im Vergleich zu dem, was ich geplant habe). Ich finde es einfach faszinierend, wie einfach sich der Geist von irgendwelchen Träumen manipulieren lässt…Fast alle meiner Geschichten haben dieses Thema drin, und langsam sollte man meinen, dass ich genug davon habe, aber nein, ich schreibe munter weiter…*kopfschüttel* Ich bin schon krank, jawohl!