Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings belong to J.R.R Tolkien, the only people I own are Alenor Talagand, Bréil, Sebastian and Victoria.

REVISED/EDITED Fate's Paths-Chap4-Disappearances and Consquences-

Alenor shivered, as she attempted to gather her cloak more tightly about her battered self. Her foot slipped on a shelf of loose gravel and she fell, instinctively she let go of the edges of her cloak to save herself and instantly the wind, shrieking with joy, tore the clasp away from her throat. It sent her only protection against the wind, billowing into the night. Crying with despair, Alenor struggled to get back onto her feet the wind struck her relentlessly back to the ground. You cannot give up! Not now, you're stubborn and a determined fool. You can do this. She tried to encourage herself, knowing the effort was failing.

She took another misstep and twisted her ankle as she fell. Cruel-edged stones tore into the palms of her hands. Angry tears that could have been easily mistaken for the lashing rain, dripped off her nose. She shivered, drenched to the bone. She hardly had the willpower to muster a thought. I can't get up. It's too hard, the deceiving thought snaked through her mind, as she knelt there. Her hands curled around the stones, as if the lances of the pain that shot through her fingers would give her the courage to stand up.

A weight dragged at her side, pulling her toward the earth. Dimly, she recalled that her sword was still residing in her sword belt. I can't walk with this thing attached to my side. Her numb fingers fumbled for the clasp of the belt. Finding it she forced her fingers to undo it and let it fall away. The weight at her side vanished and gritting her teeth, she pulled herself to her feet. The doubts continued to whisper through her mind. I can't get up, it's too hard. Lie down, rest awhile.

The wind screamed and tore at her clothes, threatening to grind her face into the stones beneath her feet. Alenor bent her head, wrapping her arms around herself she struggled to put one foot in front of the other. She fought the doubt that whispered stealthily across her mind. It was so hard though, she was so cold, so lost.

She stumbled and did not get up.

XxXxXxXxXx

Elrond awoke with a start, lurching upright to clutch his blankets in a white-knuckled grip. He glanced around his room, looking for the source of his terror. Just outside, he could hear the raging fury of a summer storm, lashing against the panes on the window. He was fully awake. "It was just the storm that scared me," he assured himself, closing his eyes, trying to push away the mental picture of Alenor, out there in the storm, alone and dying.

"Adar?"

Elrond shifted his gaze to the voice as he heard his bedroom door creak open and the whisper of footsteps pattered to his bedside. "What is it Elrohir?" he asked, fighting for a neutral tone. There would be no point in scaring his son with wild dreams that held no significance to the waking world. "What is the meaning for this visit? You haven't come in here since you were an Elfling."

"I know Adar," Elrohir replied, softly his voice trembled slightly. "I had a terrible dream though. I'm concerned."

Elrohir's last words were almost drowned out as a cacophony of thunder crashed down across the valley. "Sit here and tell me of your evil dream," Elrond said, patting a spot on the bed that was located next to him. "I'm sure it was caused by the storm. Rivendell hasn't seen once like this for years."

Elrohir nodded his head in reluctant agreement. Restlessly, he seated himself next to his father, watching as a splash of lightening illuminated the room in a blinding and momentary flash. "My dream, it was about Alenor Adar. She was in the storm; she was soaked through, and so tired. She slipped but I didn't see her get up."

Choosing to remain silent, lest he betray the sudden terrified leap of his heart, Elrond put a comforting arm around his son, drawing him closer. "It is but the storm Elrohir causing these nightmares," he soothed. "It creates fear from our thoughts and puts it into words and pictures. None of it is truth."

"I know Adar," his younger son murmured, turning into his Father's embrace, like a child seeking comfort. "But it felt so real, I could feel, Tinúviel dying, I could feel her cold. I am almost certain my bed was wet when I awoke, but did not pause long enough to confirm it."

"Hush, hush," Elrond soothed, rocking his distraught son in his arms to comfort him. "It was naught but a dream Elrohir. Naught but a dream." He hoped that his concern and madly beating heart wouldn't betray him. How was that Elrohir had had the same dream he had just experienced? Please don't let it be a vision! Please don't let Alenor be out there alone. He looked up, drawn from his brooding when his door opened creaked open a second time.

"Adar," it was Elladan, his voice taught with anxiety. "I can't find Alenor anywhere. I had a dream about her. I was worried so I went past her room to make sure she wasn't hurt or anything. She's not there; some of her clothes and her sword are missing."

Elrond released Elrohir as the younger Elf pulled away abruptly. "Are you sure?" he asked his son, his voice rising an auditable pitch, despite the effort to remain calm.

"Yes Adar, I checked her room thoroughly, there's no absolutely sign of her. Midnight is not in his stall. I met the stable hand in the hallway; he was drenched but concerned about Midnight's disappearance. He told me he was quite certain that he had taken the horse out of the grazing field when the storm rolled in."

Elrond was out of bed before Elladan had even got the chance to finish. Icy dread tingled up his spin. "We need to set up a search party immediately."

"How Adar? The storm will have washed away any sign of her passing. Even the Ranger's will be able to see nothing, and our eyesight is not meant to pick up those small details, we will be no help."

Forcing himself to breathe normally, Elrond peered at his sons faces, seeing the stark reign of terror residing there, as brief splashes of lightning lit the room. Sighing, knowing how scared they were, he reached out, and wordlessly his sons rushed into the embrace, falling into his arms at once, tears trailed down their faces. "Don't cry," he tried to soothe them, tried to change what their minds had come to realize. "She will be alright. Don't worry. We will send out a search party once the storm passes us by."

"It will be too late by then!" Elladan protested, trying to back away from the the grip his Elrond held him in, but his father refused to let him go so he reluctantly relented to the security that was offered. "Just like it was too late for Naneth."

"No, no," Elrond whispered, struggling to keep his voice strong "It will not be too late. We found your mother, we will find Alenor. Don't despair; there is no reason for needless fright. Alenor is strong, we both know that."

"Strong enough to endure this storm?" Elrohir demanded, turning his tear-streaked eyes up. "Not even an Elf would be able to survive something like this."

"But then again she is not an Elf," Elladan attempted a stab of humor "Adar, you're right." He managed to wriggle himself out of the embrace, rubbing his eyes dry, Elrohir following Elladan a moment after. "Here we cry like spoilt Elflings when we can do something to help."

Elrohir's turned to his brother, catching his thoughts. "I agree. We can go down to the kitchens and prepare the food and inventory checks for the search parties that we can send out tomorrow." Before Elrond could either protest or agree, his sons had already left the room with a measured grace of rigidity.

Seeing no point in protest, he let them go. His sons were experienced with the impending chaos and worrying that accompanied search parties. They were more then capable of setting one in motion.. It would take their minds off Alenor's predicament. But what can I do? Elrond turned and walked to his bay window to gaze out at the lash of wind and rain. Ai Valar and Eru, keep Alenor safe.

XxXxXxXxXxXx

A cool wind brushed across Elladan's face, tugging loose strands of hair across his face. Irritably he brushed them away as he stood up in the stirrups, scrutinizing the area around him for any sign of life. Other then the wind, nothing stirred. "Everything has been washed away by the storm last night." He turned around to face the man standing next to him. "Halbarad!"

The Ranger looked up, alert and awake. "What do you need Elladan?" he asked.

"Can you scout ahead?" Elladan asked. "I don't think Alenor could have wandered very far after she was unhorsed." He shielded his eyes with a fair hand, looking over the rocky terrain, desperately searching for any sign of his foster-sister.

"My lord Elladan!"

The uncommonly breathless shout brought Elladan back to Middle-Earth. "What is it?" he asked the Elf that was threading his way towards him. The comment came out on a sharper then he intended. "What did you find?"

The Elf skidded to a halt, almost tumbling over his feet, but Halbarad's quick reflexes caught him before his face connected with the ground. His face red with the embarrassment, the Elf straightened, consciously brushing away the dust from his clothes. "My lord, I found Midnight."

"Where? Is he alright?" Elladan hurriedly dismounted.

"My lord," The Elf said in soft voice. "He's dead. There's a ravine a little ways from here." He waved an arm back. "He's….He's at the bottom my lord."

Elladan's cried out in anguish, sinking to the ground, burying his face in his hands, rocking back and forth on his heels, if Midnight was dead, Alenor couldn't be far from him. . He barely registered Halbarad's hand on his shoulder, as the Ranger tried to ease his pain. "Was there...?"

"Alenor wasn't near the horse," the Elf added quietly. "I'm sorry my lord, but I found possible drag marks and blood in an overhang of some rocks. I found her sword near the same area."

Elladan keenly felt the sharp stones digging into the flesh of his knees. He shook his head vehemently He shook his head, trembling as his mind tried to come to his rescue and deny everything he had heard. With effort he looked up into Halbarad's face and with even more difficulty he managed to speak; "Go find Elrohir and his search party. Tell them to rendezvous here. Alenor seems to be heading in the direction of the High Pass."

"Will you be alright here? It will take a few hours for me to get there and back. Maybe you should return to Rivendell in the time being?" Halbarad questioned, carefully omitting the correction that Alenor could very well be dead already. He didn't want to add that with the possibility of drag marks, Orcs could have already found her body and taken her.

"Don't you dare entertain the thought Halbarad!" Elladan shouted, recognizing what the change of the man's eyes to a swirling angry vortex meant. "It is not possible!" Inwardly he cringed at his emotions getting the better of him but he couldn't keep a rein on them any longer. The last time he had seen such a look on the Ranger's face it was when his Mother had been ambushed and taken prisoner by Orcs. "It was not Orcs!"

"Of course not," Halbarad soothed, carefully hiding his lie so as no to distress Elladan further. The younger Elf was about to question him, but Halbarad purposefully tread on his foot, quieting him. "I'll leave this instantly to find your brother."

Elladan nodded his assent, hardly aware of anything around him. He continued to struggle with the fear that was slowly eating him, his breathing came ragged in his throat, as all the horrible possibilities raced through his mind, even as his defensives fought to stop it.

After a few moments he managed to regain a semblance of calm and control over his emotions. Taking a shuddering breath he stood to face the young Elf who was watching him. "Take me to Midnight," the words felt thick in his throat, emotionless in his mind. He could see Midnight clearly in his mind. He could see Midnight when he was a young foal and had been a gift from him to Alenor. He could remember how her eyes had lit up, and how she had repeatedly said "thank you" for a whole week before he had threatened to take him back if she didn't stop. With effort Elladan shoved the painful memories away. Stay on task, stay on task, you must stay on task! He shouted at himself, waiting for the younger Elf to respond.

"Yes my lord, right this way." The Elf turned swiftly away, leading Elladan forward.

Pausing only to tell his horse to return home, Elladan's quickly followed after.. The horse pricked its ears forward, listening intently and dutifully turned to home when his Master stopped speaking.

"What is your name young one?" he asked, stepping in line with the Elf. "I think you neglected to tell me earlier."

"Talagand," the Elf answered proudly, puffing out his chest in a show of youthful arrogance.

"Harper?" Elladan translated, a hint of a smile playing around his lips. "I'm afraid that's a talent that I haven't been blessed with."

The young Elf blushed, and kicked dejectedly at a rock. "I'm afraid it's not a talent that I'm good at myself. I think my parent's named me so, in hopes that some musical talent might be brought into our family."

Elladan couldn't help but laugh at the honest, but light retort. "The talent will come, I assure you," he promised Talagand. "Just take some more time practicing then out here on search parties."

"Yes my lord," Talagand replied, his face however, remained a bright shade of crimson. He looked up to see the edge of the ravine nearing."Over here Lord Elladan. This is where I found Midnight."

The offhand comment brought Elladan back to reality with such a sickening jolt that for a moment he stumbled but he managed to regain his balance, before he truly fell. Talagand had not waited for him, so he cautiously he picked his way over to where the Elf was standing.

"Midnight's at the bottom," Talagan reported dutifully, pointing down, when Elladan had managed to pull himself to the edge. "The drags marks are not to far from here. Do you want me to show them to you?"

"One moment," Elladan replied, pushing away all emotion. "Help me down, I want to see how the horse died."

"My lord!" The Elf exclaimed shocked and more then a little frightened. "The sides are too sheer; you'll hurt yourself, if you try to go down."

"Nonsense, I have to see this for myself. If Midnight's at the bottom an Alenor's not, she must have gotten out somehow," Elladan replied resolutely, glancing down. A lump formed in his throat as he saw the recognizable, but still form of Midnight, lying at the bottom. A settling of dust coated his black body and his back legs were spread at awkward angles. "Is that blood on him?"

"I can't be certain my lord," Talagand replied, peering down. "I didn't go down to look."

Elladan nodded, and crouched so he could start making the precarious way down the dangerous slope. "We have to find out for sure, if its blood, it means the storm didn't wash it away..." the rest of his sentence was abruptly cut off as a loose piece of rock gave way beneath his foot. Surprised, Elladan shouted, as he lost his footing and tumbled to the bottom of the ravine. He came to a halt as a shower of rocks and sharp gravel rained down upon him. Above him Talagand cried out in fear, caught between going after his lord and seeking immediate help.

A sharp crack on the back of his head and neck, sent stars exploding through his sight, Elladan gasped, as his vision clouded until it was only a pinprick of light. Above him he could see the sky; it was the last thing he remembered.