9. A white dawn

The wind screamed and the snow stung. The air was filled 90 with snowflakes (or snow bundles as they were more like), and decided to refuse sight to anyone who wanted to see past the head of their horse. The night was darker than it was possible and appeared to move around the party in strange and ominous shapes, which scared the horses often (but luckily not the elves). The snow on the ground had turned to slush, which was wonderful really, making the elves trip and slide around treacherously. Very kind and considering.

No one was happy. Lirë could not see anything but could just about remember the bends in the path, and so could cope (barely).

Kelmeleth wanted to stop and build snowelves and also to eat lots of Lembas bread. This probably made him the most joyous out of all of them, which was surprising since he would usually be the gloomiest if he was denied both these things. He was a creative being, and to be a logical one was not what he wished a chance for.

Alquaran wanted to sleep and have peaceful dreams again back in Lórien. Not of Arwen anymore, but he still did like her. He preferred bed though.

Rúmil wanted some fire and hot drinks. His hands were iced up and he was afraid that if they were attacked then he would not be able to fight in even the smallest way. He would never forgive himself for that, nor live out Galadriel's punishment. He also had a sneaky suspicion that his bow was actually stuck to his arrows, frozen together with snow and ice.

None of the five horses were happy either. They liked grass and sun. Here there was simply no grass and no sun. So they were not happy.

That left Arwen. She almost felt like crying. There seemed no hope of anything actually working. Not even her smallest prayers had been answered, like for it to be slightly warmer, so how could anything big come out right in the end? Aragorn seemed so far now, further from the reach of her fingers than he had ever felt. From all she could tell, they were lost in a maze of snow and rocks, but she did not even have the ability to see ahead of herself. She could see behind, as much as seeing was really, without a lantern; for the wind was blowing head on and did not go in her eyes this time. Looking up was horrible (as well as pointless), so Arwen gave that a miss.

Therefore Arwen turned her face downwards, and moved nearer the edge of the cliff-road. Kelmeleth had swapped places with her, but now was not to be seen most of the time, even though he was probably just next to her. Arwen stared down, straining with everything she had to see any tiny glimpse of a light, a pinprick glow which would warm her heart completely.

But in actual fact, when she did (miraculously) see a flicker down there in the darkness, her heart stopped. When it tripped on again, Arwen could hardly believe that there were tiny white spots moving along the wide road below. She was relieved to know her eyes could see that much with their elven power, for she had made herself unsure whether she would notice them or not, but she still found it rather surprising.

Arwen blinked just to check that they really were on the path below, the cluster of small shafts of pale light. She looked away and now knew she had to think of something to do – and quick. They would pass the Dunedain fast; such a large party could not go as rapidly, and elves could naturally cope better in these harsher conditions. So Arwen would have to get their party to stop, and not just seem as if she was lazy, or suspicious. She needed the idea soon, or time would run out. Think, Arwen, think she told herself.

The snow seemed to lessen slightly now, and the dark shapes of Kelmeleth with his horse were visible again beside her, and ahead Lirë's form was also reappearing. The wind however was not fading away, but swooping ever more forward, and it became even more vicious and biting at the elves along the pathway. That was also getting narrower, and in the end Arwen decided to wait a little and then go along behind Kelmeleth. It was not worth falling off a cliff.

But Arwen still had not thought of anything. Peering down into the darkness again, she saw with shock that the lights had vanished far behind, and only one or two little dots way further back could be seen. The time was close. They needed to stop. But what could she do? Say she was tired? No, they would just say it was not much longer to sunrise, surely she could last. Say she was hungry? They would just give her some Lembas to eat as the walked on, leading their horses and squinting against the fierce blows. Say she felt ill? Alquaran would just give her some relieving medicine and then she would not be able to complain. Arwen groaned and looked away tiredly. What in all of Arda would she do?

The nightshade, or blanket as it seemed at the moment, lifted up a little more, and though it was still a long while until the sun actually rose, it was easier to see around them. Arwen's way was lit by Kelmeleth's silver lantern, throwing light rays around him and the roofed road. There was still no outer wall, but their way was getting more enclosed and shimmering icicles were falling down from the arching ceiling. Snow was swept in and left rippling patterns on its smooth surface, only to be trodden on by the elves and horses.

The light ahead danced hypnotisingly, bouncing around off all the white surfaces. Arwen then saw something shimmering on the floor, just after Kelmeleth had stepped over it. It looked like a grey puddle, but Arwen knew better. She approached it warily, still worrying helplessly over what she could do to stop the other elves. Anything, anything, she moaned into the wind (which echoed her voice perfectly). She needed something now, NOW.

Arwen's thoughts were running far too fast. She let her subconscious instinct take over.

And so she stepped on the ice.

Arwen slipped on the shiny surface and fell over immediately, landing hard on her side. Her horse's reigns jerked and she let them slide from her hands, Ninniach braying terrified. She screamed as she hit the hard ground, and her ankle twisted underneath her body's quick movement. A shearing pain shot up from there, whilst she felt her elbow throbbing painfully against the bitterly cold ice.

She closed her eyes and heard shouting voices around her. Someone held a light to her face and lifted the hood off.

"Arwen? Arwen? Are you ok? Arwen?"

She blinked wearily and saw Rúmil's upturned face looking at her anxiously. Beside her Kelmeleth knelt down and felt for her cold hands, and Alquaran gently propped her up against himself into a sitting position.

"Arwen," Lirë asked her worriedly, "are you in pain?" She felt herself trembling in the exposure to the cold, and also having to cope with the wounds she had inflicted upon herself. She nodded voicelessly and leant back against Alquaran's strong body. She closed her eyes again and tried not to think of her ankle, which felt like slicing knives.

She heard movements and the horses shifting nervously at the commotion. Arwen listened to Rúmil's fearful voice.

"I think we should make camp, as soon as possible. We cannot continue like this." There were more rustling noises amongst the rasping whispers of the wind. "Where? We cannot stop here. But the next cave is not too far though, if we rest Arwen on a horse." There were mutterings and sighs. She heard Kelmeleth's voice. "I can ride there on my horse, with her in front of me. We have done that many times before. I can't miss the cave if I stay close to the mountain wall."

Arwen then felt herself being lifted up carefully and held in Alquaran's arms. There were more panicked voices but she could not hear what they were saying through the hoarse wind. She was carried as smoothly as possible over to a horse, and felt the brushing of a cloak sweep against her arm. As she opened her eyes she saw Kelmeleth's hands lean forward and pick her limp body up from Alquaran's arms. He held her whilst she sat herself down on Túlisle.

"Kelmeleth!" someone shouted from behind. She felt him turn round to look at them. "We will come as quickly as we can. Light a fire to keep her warm." The horse moved and Kelmeleth pulled the reigns around her, and Túlisle began to trot off into the drizzling snow. Arwen found it much more restful being on a horse again, and felt soothed by the comforting motion, even though it was not her own special Ninniach.

"Arwen?" She heard Kelmeleth's voice call her softly. She looked up at him and smiled a little. "I'm ok," she said quietly, as she watched him strain his eyes to see the opening in the cliff wall. "Are you hurt, I mean quite badly?" he asked her, adjusting the way she was leaning against himself.

"Not badly," she said, "but my ankle does really ache. It twisted sharply when I fell. I probably have a few bruises but they don't hurt really." She heard him sigh in relief.

"Good. I thought you may have tried to harm yourself on purpose, if you did not see the Rangers' lights below. I'm glad you didn't go to such extremes!"

"No!" Arwen said joyfully, "I did see them! I have to leave once Alquaran has healed my ankle as much as he can."

"What!" Kelmeleth exclaimed, as he guided Túlisle closer to the rocks. "You're going to have problems climbing down then. It won't be easy." Arwen turned to watch their advance to the cave. "But I suppose at least you have got us to stop before it is too late," he added thoughtfully.

Arwen saw an opening in the mountain side, quite large, but it looked fairly protected inside. The pathway widened slightly as they reached the archway. Kelmeleth halted.

"I'll get down and then take you off, is that alright Arwen?" he asked her, and she nodded gratefully. He slowly dropped to the ground and then reached up to take Arwen off his horse. Kelmeleth carried her over to a sheltered rock and sat her down. Túlisle wandered after them too, very pleased to be out of the wind.

"Right, I'll just light a fire," he murmured, as he took some tinder sticks out of one of the saddle bags and laid it in a wigwam shape on the clear stone floor. He poked a few smaller leafy bits inside and placed bigger sticks around the pyramid. Then he struck some sparks with two very dry twigs and set a few flames going. He smiled admiringly at his fire.

He helped Arwen over to the welcome flames and she lay down on the floor, with a folded cloak under her ebony head. As Kelmeleth added more branches the fire became larger and hotter, and Arwen felt her body thawing out and becoming warm again. There was a sound from out in the snow and a second horse came into view, with Arwen's Ninniach close behind.

"How are you, Arwen?" It was Alquaran, and he leapt off his black horse quickly, and rummaged through one of his bags. "I'm ok," she replied, "it's just my ankle that is really painful." It still felt ice cold and she could not move it either.

Alquaran hurried over and knelt down on her other side. He had two little flasks in his hands, and he unscrewed the lid of one of them.

"Here, drink this," he said, and gave her the bottle. He helped her into a sitting position before she took a sip from the mixture. Arwen was surprised at how good it tasted. It felt very refreshing and livening, even though it was not hot or even warm. The liquid made her feel happier and more awake as it swept all through her body.

"Thank you," she said meekly as he took the bottle from her hands. She watched interestedly as he opened the other flask. This one had a deliciously sweet smell rushing out from the inside, like the fragrances of a hundred honeysuckle plants and roses mingled together to make a beautiful burst of happiness.

"This will help your ankle," Alquaran explained, seeing the wonder on Arwen's face. "You will be able to walk again in a few minutes." She eagerly took the bottle and had a mouthful from it. The essence was delightful and she loved it so much, no matter whether it helped her ankle or not, and proceeded to take some more drops immediately.

"Hey!" Alquaran exclaimed with laughter on his face, and Arwen smiled as she gave the bottle back. "We may need that for you again some time, but not now!" He placed the lids back on them and then went back to his horse to put the bottles back in his bags.

Arwen saw that the other elves had arrived and now all five horses were huddled together again, and the elves busied about the fire, laying their cloaks on the floor and heating bread and fruits above the leaping flames. Arwen knew she had some time left before she needed to go, but she wanted the other elves to lie down now so that she could be assured of a perfect chance to disappear.

The four elves settled down on their bedding and handed round food to each other, and Arwen was very thankful to eat something again. The pears and plums tasted very good, well preserved by the ice, and then a welcome slice of cake was given to her (and also consumed quickly). All the others seemed to be very tired, and lay down with their heads by the warm glowing of the fire. Arwen followed suit after drinking water from Kelmeleth's bottle, and she closed her eyes seemingly.

But she did not go to sleep, or even let her thoughts trail off. She kept herself awake and focusing on the sounds around her. Elves do not snore, but their breathing patterns do become regular as they drift into sleep. Arwen could hardly control herself from the moment her friends had pulled their cloaks over themselves, but she knew she must wait.

The fire crackled and a stick collapsed. A horse stirred moved nearer to the back of the cave. The wind howled mournfully and blew snow into the cave opening. But there was no noise from the elves.

Arwen's eyes snapped open. She cautiously sat up and looked warily at the others, seeing if they made any movement or asked her if she was alright. No one did. She stood up wobbly, trying to be silent, and found that she could stand on her right foot easily, with no pain, just a slightly uncomfortable feeling. But that was only to be expected.

Arwen wrapped her cloak around her body properly and brought the long hood over her eyes. She could still see the elves, but they were all sound asleep and exhausted after their journey for the night. She tiptoed round the circle to Kelmeleth, and nudged him gently. He made no response whatsoever, and Arwen felt rather unhappy that she could not say goodbye to him. But he looked peaceful, with a strand of a blonde streak of hair falling over his face. He knew where she was going anyway.

Arwen walked softly away from the light and past the horses, looking wistfully at Ninniach. He did not see her, hidden in her twilight cloak, and she stepped outside and unseen, back into the snow again. It came as a shock, to be suddenly attacked by the strong wind and buffeted by freezing snowflakes, but after a while it just became familiar to her. The snow was less now and Arwen could see her way to the edge of the road and approached it apprehensively. It was a long way down to the bottom where the Rangers would come, but the rocks stuck out in many places, so she thought it would not be a very hard climb.

Arwen looked back once more at the sleeping figures in the cave. She hoped they would not worry too much. She turned back and stepped down.

She carefully held onto the rocks with her hands, and let her feet feel their way onto secure rocks. Her fingers were numb and she hated the icy snow against them, but she knew it was necessary if she was to be taken among the Dunedain.

Step after step, ledge after ledge, Arwen climbed down, and down, and down. The road above vanished in the snow, and she refused herself to glance below, so all she did was look at the snowy rocks she passed by as she clung on for her life. The wind pulled at her cloak and pushed at her body, trying to tear her body away from the cliff. It bit at her hands and dragged at her feet, hating her being on the mountain. Arwen became freezing cold again; the drink Alquaran had given her gone completely from her body and her ankle was aching through the cold. Each movement she made became a massive effort, another pain she had to live through. Every rock she rested her feet on had a sharp point, every mound of snow she gripped her hands on enclosed her hands in such cold ice that it hurt.

Time went so slow that one metre down seemed to take an hour. The bottom was getting closer, but by such small amounts that it really seemed impossible to reach. The outcrops in the cliff were easy to get onto, but hard to pass down from, and ice began to form on some of the rocks. Arwen held on as tight as she could, fearing what would happen next. She saw the road below through the darkness, for now the sun was not far away from rising up to greet the mountain, and it could not be so far now that she had to climb. Only a few more minutes, she told herself, you can do this.

Arwen cowered against the rocks, timidly reaching for the next foot-hole to step to. One hand at a time, every one she did was like running a marathon, it was so hard. The mountain did not want her, and it despised each of her moves. The snow picked up again and was pelted at her at full strength, hindering her progress for the moment. The wind screeched and Arwen gripped on with tears etching into her eyes. She really did not know if she could do this, with the wind and snow as it was. She shivered constantly now and began to weep uncontrollably, desperate to be with Aragorn. She needed him more than ever, but the pain was so bad she felt that he would never find her and hold her in his arms.

Arwen closed her eyes and started to clamber down the rocks again. She actually managed to keep going for quite a while. The road was near, very near, and just about ten metres below. Her heart felt warmed by the knowledge she was almost there, almost with the Dunedain, almost with Aragorn…

But as she lifted her hand off a rock to move down, the wind suddenly roared and it ripped her from the cliff as if she was just a mere ladybird on a tree trunk. The rocks scraped against her hands as she was torn away, and the wind dragged her down, down to the ground, her screams and cries heard by no one, her frightened tears falling helplessly. The gust scratched with its very own claws, and the chill was colder than anything she had ever experienced, even in the icy conditions she had travelled in. She hit the snow at the bottom hard, and it sprayed out from around her body; and then she lay there still, with not even the smallest movement made.

Arwen had no need to play unconscious. She already was.