XIX

Courage and Cowardice

When Legolas emerged from the cave, dusty and bruised and covered in spider webs, Arahad and the twins looked at him as though he was a ghost. For all that Legolas knew he might as well be one. The world felt different somehow - unclear and askew, as if it had shrunk while he was in the tunnel.

"The goblins are leaving", he said before the others could ask anything. His voice was so weary it startled him to hear it. "We have to get back before they come out of the cave."

"First of all", Arahad said, looking at him sharply. "Are you unhurt?"

"I am. Where's Quick-wing? He has to warn my brother in case we don't catch them."

It was a long walk back to Rivendell in the dark. Legolas tried to keep up with the others, but he was so exhausted that when they'd come halfway he could go no longer. It was past midnight by then, and Arahad said it was too dangerous to linger in the wilderness with goblins prowling about, so Elladan swept Legolas into his arms and carried him the rest of the way.

The warriors had assembled on the courtyard when they arrived. Glorfindel was talking to Findel and Hawn, and Echail stood nearby with the elf-lord's helmet, noticably pale. When the warriors parted to let the twins and Arahad through, Glorfindel turned to them - worried at first, but once Elladan had put Legolas down on his feet to show he was unhurt, he fixed his gaze on the twins with eyes as hard as steel. Elladan ushered Legolas in behind him. He had never seen the elf-lord look so furious.

"Is the child unharmed?" Glorfindel asked, his voice level but his hands trembling.

"Yes", Elladan said. "Glorfindel, this..."

"Go inside", the elf-lord interrupted him, looking at Legolas. "Echail can take you to your room. You need rest."

Legolas shook his head. He wanted to go to bed, but he couldn't leave Arahad and the twins like this. "I'm staying here."

"Now, child..."

"Glorfindel", Elladan trid again, "listen - this has to wait. The goblins are leaving - we have to ride out and..."

Glorfindel exploded. "The goblins! The goblins! I do not give a damn about the goblins! You have done something so utterly foolish I do not even know where to begin - and you cannot even see it yourselves? This will not wait - you will hear my out, and don't you dare pretend like I am not right. You brought a child into the mountains - at night, when you knew there was danger close by - brought him into the immediate presence of an unknown number of enemies, all under the pretence that it was the best thing to do - something about that sparrowhawk, Echail tells me - and for what? Because there's nothing in your cursed heads but revenge - because you cannot see past your own desire for a vengeance that will never satisfy you. Did you tell him it was safe? That you would protect him? Of all people, you should know that the mountains are never safe."

Arahad buried his face in his hands, but truly, Glorfindel was talking only to the twins - he must have known the ranger would never have done it if it hadn't been for them. The warriors had fallen dead silent around them. Elladan licked his lips.

"We - we didn't force him. Legolas wanted to follow us."

"Legolas wanted to do as you bid", Glorfindel snapped, "because, Eru knows why, he looks up to you. He is a child, he has no experience of this - how could you possibly expect him to make a rational decision?"

"And what should we have done?" Elladan asked, his voice rising. "It was too dangerous to go without someone to speak for the bird -"

"Then you shouldn't have gone at all! You should have swallowed your cursed pride, forgotten your cursed vengeance and let the goblins be! We could have protected our borders and Netherford from the lowlands - there was no need to go into the mountains, only you had to make sure every last of the goblins got killed, and in doing so..."

Hawn stepped forward, quietly took Legolas' arm and tried to lead him away, but Legolas still didn't want to leave. However tired he was, he couldn't abandon the twins.

"Please", he said, "you can talk about all that later, but you have to ride out. The goblins are already leaving. They're going south - at least I think so, because they talked about twenty-five warriors and the wood-elves are twenty-six.. And there was a man, an old man, and I think he's evil..."

"Hold a moment", Glorfindel said, suddenly calm, the way a storm may sometimes cease somewhat before it returns with full strength. "Where did you hear that?"

"In... that is..."

"Give me your hand, Legolas."

Reluctantly, Legolas stepped in front of Elladan and gave the elf-lord his hand. Glorfindel took one look at his dusty and scratched palm, with gravel and spider webs still covering the scraped skin, and closed his eyes.

"You let him go into the cave."

The twins did not reply. Legolas pulled back his hand. No one else moved.

"You let him go into the cave", Glorfindel repeated, looking up again. He didn't raise his voice; he didn't need to. "Alone?"

Legolas looked down. It seemed to be answer enough.

Glorfindel's eyes were as cold as ice, and it was even more frightening than when they looked to be on fire.

"Never in my life", he said, slowly, "never in my life did I believe it of you to be so - so utterly selfish, so completely indifferent to the health and life of a young child - as to risk it for the sake of revenge. I trained you to protect people, to defend those who were too weak to do it themselves, not to - to take advantage of someone who admired you... may Varda have mercy upon you! If you throw away your lives, fine - but a child's? What if he had been caught? Did you ever consider that? Caught in the cave like a fox in a trap - he could have been tortured just like your - "

Elrohir gave a wail so loud and shrill it didn't sound elven, as if the realisation hit him as hard as if it had truly happened. Glorfindel trailed off. Shaking like an ashen leaf Elrohir dropped his face into his hands.

"That is enough, Glorfindel!" lady Arwen's voice rang out across the courtyard. "I think you have said what needed to be said, and more." She pushed her way through the crowd, her night-gown flowing behind her, put her arms around Elrohir and drew him close; he'd gone rigid, like one so caught up in fear or despair that every muscle of their body turns to iron, a cuirass of steel and thorns to protect the softness inside it.

"Here, Elrohir, forget that - let's get you inside. Elladan, give me a hand."

Elladan quietly took Elrohir's other arm, and together they walked him up the stair and into the house. They met lord Elrond halfway; they walked past him, and the expression on lord Elrond's face was so tired, so hopeless, that for all that Legolas was angry with him it wrenched his heart to see it. Glorfindel closed his eyes again, shocked by his own words.

"Well, my lord", Arahad said. "You handled that splendidly."

"What are you all staring at?" Glorfindel snapped, startling the warriors. "Get mounted! We're riding out."

Legolas wanted so badly to sleep, but once he did, back in his room with the rangers snoring next door, he dreamt. In his dreams the passages of the cave went endlessly on and on; darker and narrower the longer he went, but he could not stop, for there were goblins behind him and with them went an old man with a hollow laughter that filled the whole tunnel -

- and he woke with a choked scream, tangled in his sheets. It took him a moment to realise where he was. He wormed free of the sheets and curled up on the bed, shaking and wide-eyed and frightened to sleep again, because the dream hovered so close on the borders of his mind he knew it was just waiting to continue.

When he was calmer, Legolas climbed from the bed, dressed and left the room. There would be light in the Hall of Fire; one of the fires were always left to glow through the night, and he figured he could blow life in it and sit there until dawn broke. But the hall was not empty. The twins were already there, sitting in silence with their heads together as so many times before. Elrohir was huddling under a cloak, and the silver pearl in Elladan's hair glinted in a way that reminded Legolas of the first time he talked to him, that first night in Rivendell when he found them just like this. It was as though nothing had changed since then; as if they'd never been to the Midwinter market, and never sat around the fire competing about who could eat the most pancakes.

Suddenly Legolas was frightened that it was so. That the twins, after the encounter with the goblins and everything that Glorfindel said, would go back into that unspeakable sadness - that they would be afraid to hurt someone, or to hurt themselves, and never want to talk to anyone again. Legolas couldn't let that happen. Perhaps he could not imagine how it felt to be the twins, but he did know how overwhelming and exhausting it was to be sad and scared and alone.

He shuffled his feet, making a noise that made Elrohir curl up tighter under the cloak, and Elladan turn to look at him.

"Are you not going to sleep, Legolas?"

Legolas shook his head. "No. I mean, I did, but I had a nightmare. I don't want to sleep again."

Elladan's features softened. He said something to his brother, who relaxed somewhat and turned as well. Elrohir was very pale, and his eyes were swollen.

"I am truly sorry", Elladan said, beckoning at Legolas to come closer. "Of course you would not sleep well - I should have thought of that. We should all have thought of that, but - after all that happened, and with Glorfindel gone..."

"I get it. It's alright."

"By the Valar, it isn't. Come", Elladan said, and Legolas stepped closer, sinking to the floor beside him. "The healers have draughts that can help you sleep undisturbed."

Legolas shook his head. He was very tired, but not tired enough for the healers.

"You know", Elladan said, "for all that Glorfindel is right and we should never have let you follow us - and Arahad was right too, and we should have listened to him - you did amazingly well. Many grown elves wouldn't have dared to go into a cave like that even without goblins present. You kept your head clear enough to count them, and to escape in time. We - we truly were as foolish as Glorfindel says..." Elrohir whimpered and pressed closer to his brother, "but we are very proud of you."

Legolas blushed. "Uh - thank you. But..."

"What?"

"I wasn't brave at all", Legolas admitted, biting his lip. "I was scared almost all the time."

"That doesn't matter. Only a fool would not have been scared, and you are a very clever young elf. What matters is that you did what you had to despite that. That's being brave - that's courage."

Incredulous, Legolas felt as though he grew several inches with pride. Mother had said he was brave too, but he had always thought she was just being a mother. "Like - like Amdir the Archer then? I thought of him, when I was in the cave, because I nearly got stuck and I wanted to turn but then I thought... Amdir was scared too, but he went on anyway. Was that also courage?"

"Indeed it was", Elladan said gravely. "Amdir the Archer is a story about just that - how sometimes we must press on, despite our fear, and how it is not always the strongest or the wisest who is the hero, but someone just like you and me who just happens to be there." He tilted his head, considering. "And do you remember how it said, in the book, that even when the dragon Urúan was dead, Amdir could never forget his eyes in the dark or his voice speaking to him from the shadows? Such memories linger, but that does not mean they will always be scary. There will come a point when they are nothing but memories; no more frightening than what you had for breakfast. It may seem like it will always be like it is now, but it... it won't."

Legolas looked up at him, wondering if Elladan believed that himself - thinking that if he did, that was a change for the better.

"I think, if I had known how it would be in that cave before I went inside, I would still have done it", he said. "But I don't want to do it again. And I didn't realise it was as important as Glorfindel said." He pulled his knees up to his chest thoughtfully. "Why was Glorfindel so angry? Nothing happened anyway. And he shouldn't have said all those things."

"Maybe not", Elladan agreed. "He was angry because when the others returned and you weren't with them, he was frightened. Yes, little one, even Glorfindel can be frightened. He thought something bad would happen to you. You must remember it wouldn't be the first time bad things happened to elves he was supposed to protect."

"Oh... Like your mother?"

"And every single on of her guards. Well - expect for one."

There was a hint of loathing in Elladan's voice as he said that, and it struck Legolas as very odd - until it dawned on him. "Echail."

Elladan nodded slowly. "Echail."

"He should have guarded lady Celebrían."

"He was the one in command", Elrohir said, looking up for the first time. His voice was hoarse and tinged with hatred. "It was his first time as the head of the guards. Everyone was certain he would do splendidly, because he was such a promising young warrior, as proud and arrogant as he pretends to be now." Legolas had never heard him speak so many words at once, and they came tumbling like a spring-flood as if he had carried them inside him for a very long time. "But when the orcs attacked them in the Redhorn Gate, Echail panicked. It wasn't the first time he fought goblins, or even the first time he was in an ambush, but this time he was in command and he - well something snapped, and he couldn't think. Instead of giving order of defence or retreat he stood frozen in fear, and the guards, though they got ready for battle, didn't know what to do. It was our mother who took command at last. But they had already lost precious time by then and were overwhelmed. Echail survived because he stayed out of battle, so when it was clear the others would lose, he he could simply turn his horse around and ride away. He was injured because a stray arrow hit him as he fled - it was poisoned and he couldn't treat it on his own, so by the time he got back to Rivendell it was beyond mending. But he lived when all the other guards did not. Had he done his duty they might all have lived."

"Ai, Elbereth", Legolas whispered. Of all the vile and traitorous things he had thought Echail capable of, this was the most sickening of them all. To live with that would be worse than dying, he thought.

"Our mother, as you know, survived as well", Elladan said quietly, when Elrohir slumped in his arms and it became clear that no more words would come from him. "But only a shard of her remained when we found her. Like Glorfindel said they'd taken her to a cave, just like the one you went inside, and she... well, she..." He blinked hard, stroking his brother's hair. "She couldn't stay here after that. Some thought that Echail should leave with her, because he'd never truly heal and because no one would forget what he had done. Perhaps it would have been better, but he wanted to stay. And because he had saved mother, after all, by returning home so swiftly - and because there was little else for him when he could not be a warrior - father made him his valet."

"I don't understand", Legolas said. "Why would he do that? It was all Echail's fault!"

"So it was", Elladan said, "but it is hard to prove. After all, we cannot know the elves would have won even if he had kept his senses. And I think, while he was healing and father had to tend to him, he came to rely on Echail very much. I'm sure Echail felt guilty and swore to help as much as he could. And father... well, something had broken in him. He lost himself, I think, to his sadness and to his shame. He could heal mother's body but not her soul, and he would never forgive himself for that. He needed someone to help him go through the day; to get out of bed, and get dressed, and remember to eat."

How was one to live with so much sadness? Legolas stared at the fire and the world seemed dark and cruel and unfair - if one elf could be hurt so badly she had to leave her home and her family to heal, but another could get away with a bad leg and a high position though he, in a way, was responsible for her hurt. Then he realised something else.

"Laeros... the elf that we were hoping lord Elrond could heal, who's in he mountains now. He's the same as lady Celebrían, healed in the body - well nearly - but not the soul. For lord Elrond, won't it be like lady Celebrían all over again?"

Elladan gave a deep sigh. "So it will."

"And if he can't save Laeros either..."

"Yes. That will be terrible for him. But if he can save him, then - well, maybe it will be like some sort of conclusion. Like a second chance." Elladan turned away, running his fingers along an old scar that went down his wrist, and silence fell heavily upon them for a while. "Speaking of Amdir the Archer", he said suddenly, "I never gave it back to you. Let's go and fetch it shall we? We have been sitting here long enough. Come on, Elrohir, to your feet."

Pulling a protesting Elrohir with him, Elladan stood, then took Legolas by the arm and pulled him up as well. They left the fire burning as they went. The corridors outside were mostly dark, but shot through by spears of moonlight, and there was a light under lord Elrond's door and the sound of low voices. The twins and Legolas passed it quietly. Elladan pointed out another door as lady Arwen's - there was a light under it too - then opened one of the two opposite doors. They entered a small parlour, less formal than lord Elrond's, littered with discarded clothes, pieces of armour and arrows in dire need of new fletching - even the small couch and the armchair by the fire-place were full of things, and the table between them nearly invisible under heaps of papers, a pair of newly greased boots set out to dry, and a significant number of half-full tea cups. Elladan threw the papers to the floor and found Tales from Doriath under a plate with a half-eaten sandwich on it.

"Uh... sorry about the mess. I haven't had the mind to tidy it for a while. Would've been just great if I had spilled ink on your book or something."

Elrohir snickered, leaning over Elladan's shoulder to look at the book. "Of archery and cleverness... I don't recognise this book."

"No, Erestor does not have it - unless he kept it from us so we would not get any silly ideas. It's a book with fairy tales and adventures. Had we read it when we were young we would have ran around all day playing orc spies against squirrel knights."

"There are squirrel knights?"

"I knew you would like it! Yes, there is one - His Squirrelness Sir Bron the Faithful, knighted after his long service to King Thingol in the face of great evil. Here, I have an idea. If none of us are going to sleep anyway, why don't we sit down and read instead? I can read this time, and you two listen. What do you say?"

"Only if we read about His Squirrelness Bron", Elrohir said.

"Sir Bron, little brother, and that's an excellent choice."

After Elladan had pushed most of the things from the couch onto the floor, Legolas and Elrohir curled up one on each side and waited for him blow life into the fire. Then he emptied the armchairs of arrows and sat down, opening the book.

"All ready? You have to see the chapter illustration first, there's Bron and his mighty steed Skittish the Hare. Now, then. Bron the Faithful. It so happened in the Year of the Many Rains, that by the end of the summer our Most Esteemed King Thingol was riding through the northern lands when a thunderstorm broke out and..."

The story was a long one, and easy to lose oneself in. Elladan read so it came to life; so the summer rain seemed to pour down outside and the room became a forest - a forest that to Legolas looked very much like Greenwood, but even bigger and even older, and with orc spies and squirrel knights in it. It was very exciting, and many times it seemed quite impossible that Bron the Squirrel would be in time to warn King Thingol about the spies - and yet, at some point before it was over, Legolas must have fallen asleep. He woke when sunlight filled the room, on the couch under Elrohir's cloak. Tales from Doriath lay on the table beside him, and the room was empty.

Glorfindel was gone for two days. He sent three messengers back, and all of them said that everyone was fine, and they hadn't found the goblins, and were probably going to turn soon, or at least - the messengers muttered - that was what everyone hoped. Apparently Glorfindel wasn't keen on letting the goblins out of his grasp again.

Though the House of Elrond was rather empty with so many elves gone, it bustled with activity, because they were late with the Midwinter preparations and now everything had to be done at the same time. They cleaned out every fire-place in the house, put new candles in the chandeliers, swept stairs and baked so much bread and cakes and pies the ovens did not even cool overnight before they were lit again. Since they were lacking in numbers, stable-boys were set to clean windows, laundry elves were tasked to blanch almonds for the mulled wine, and one fine morning found a couple of guards on their knees in the Hall of Fire scrubbing the floor, while Erestor sat on top of a table to be out of their way and had Ninneth show him how to tie meadow sweet garlands. Legolas joined the preparations, but half-heartedly; the familiar tasks, and the unfamiliar ones, reminded him that he'd never spent a Midwinter without his parents before, and he longed for them so much it ached in his chest.

By every passing hour it seemed less and less likely that Tinuhen would be there in time. At first Legolas was certain he must arrive soon; then he decided that Gandalf would come and delay the meeting - and at last, two days before Midwinter, he began to wonder if any of them would, and the thought struck him that maybe Gandalf, too, had been hindered.

That night the kitchen-elves polished the finest tableware of frosted glass with inlaid gold until they shone, and though they were many helping it was well past midnight before they were done. Legolas and Ninneth were there - Lindir was helping lord Elrond - and some of the rangers, and Tilwine and Scead. They sat down in the warm kitchen, for it was getting so cold even the elves could feel it, and after the kitchen-elves opened a barrel of wine (that actually belonged to the Head Cook) it wasn't long before everyone had red cheeks and loud voices.

"But Tilwine", Findel said, "how long are you two planning to stay anyway? The Midwinter market is soon over, and you haven't tried to find an employer yet. It seems you me you've forgotten that little detail."

"Don't remind me!" Tilwine groaned. "I don't want to leave this house."

"Then don't, friend!" said the elves in chorus. "You are welcome to stay!"

"Ah - Lord Elrond would never let us..."

"He could never say no, if you asked", said Hawn. "Lord Elrond is too kind for that."

For a moment Tilwine looked very tempted, but before he had made up his mind, Scead said: "As much as I would love to stay, I for one couldn't. I need to see the horizon. And I want to return home, just to see that my family are alright. But our journeys might lead us this way again."

"Yes", Tilwine said with a glance at his friend. "Yes, exactly. We will come back! Surely we will."

An hour or so later the platters and plates and glasses and bowls stood in neat heaps all shining like a dragon's treasure, and the forks and spoons and knives had been sorted into wooden boxes with velvet lining, ready to be laid out on the table. They finished the last of the wine, hid the empty barrel, stretched their aching backs and went yawning upstairs.

"Here, Glorfindel's back!" one of them said, looking out a window. "Finally!"

The elves, Scead and Tilwine all rushed to the window, Legolas and Ninneth slipping between the others to climb the window-sill. The courtyard was filled with the light of torches and the white puffs of breath from elves and horses. Among the slender elven horses stood a grey mare that Legolas had never seen before, saddled and bridled with red and gold.

"Who's that?"

"I don't know", one of the kitchen-elves said. "It's not lady Galadriel, is it?"

"Does lady Galadriel have a staff and a long beard?" asked another and pointed to someone who stood talking to Glorfindel. "That's Saruman the White! I wonder what he's doing here."

"Why, he's a wizard, isn't he?" Tilwine said. "And they go where they want, don't they? Not that I should know, I mean, I've never met him."

Legolas pressed his cheek against the glass and squinted. He had never seen Saruman the White either, at least not as he could remember, because he rarely visited Greenwood - but the old man beside Glorfindel looked more or less like he had imagined, as tall as Gandalf but with a white beard and white robes glimpsing under his cloak. He stood very straight, and there was something noble about him that neither Gandalf nor Radagast had, but apart from that he looked very much a wizard.

The elves, the rangers, Tilwine and Scead went out the kitchen door and came round the corner of the house. The warriors were all tired and travel-stained, but unharmed. They hadn't seen a single goblin, and some muttered that it was an embarrassing turn of events - Glorfindel had been soundly defeated, and that without a single battle.

"Cursed if I know how it happened", one of them said. "But the mists were so thick that at times we simply had to stop and wait until they cleared, and all those tracks - I don't know how it was possible for them to make so many misleading tracks."

"It was strange, really", said another. "Everything seemed to go against us"

At that moment, lord Elrond came down the stair, followed by Lindir, Echail and Erestor, and the elves on the courtyard parted so that Saruman could step forward and clasp the elf-lord's hands. Lord Elrond smiled, one of those smiles of true joy that were so rare and yet looked so natural on him.

"My dear Saruman! You arrive just in time. If you knew how glad I am to see you."

"I had a feeling I might be needed", Saruman said. His voice was soft and kind, but rang clearly over the courtyard - and for a brief moment, so short it could have been his imagination, Legolas was frightened. Something in the back of his mind screamed at him to hide, and then it was gone. The elf-lords were talking and paid him no notice. Ninneth pulled at his arm.

"You've got to say hello to Saruman's horse. She's the sweetest mare you'll ever meet. Come!"

Still wondering what had just happened, Legolas let himself be led to the grey mare, who stood patiently waiting behind her master. Her golden bridle jingled softly when she lifted her head to look at them. She bore four heavy saddle-bags, all closed with many straps and emblazoned with intricate patterns. When another elf began to untie them, Saruman returned to oversee it.

"Here - be careful with those. Let me take that one - thank you, Ninneth." He smiled at her, taking the saddle bag, and the wrinkles around his eyes deepened. "Dear me, you have grown! You are almost a lady, now."

Ninneth grinned and blushed, then tugged at Legolas arm to get him to step forward. "Have you met Saruman before? Saruman, this is Legolas. He's from Greenwood."

The White Wizard's eyes, gentle but piercing under bristling black eyebrows, finally fell on Legolas, and an odd expression passed over his face, almost as if he were angry. And Legolas felt fear clutch his heart again, unreasonable and overwhelming, and he took a step back, instinctively wrapping his arms around him.

Then Saruman smiled, tilting his head. He no longer looked angry. "No, I do not believe we have met. Legolas? That is a royal name."

"I was named after the prince", Legolas said. Again the fear had passed as quickly as it had come, but for some reason it seemed important the wizard knew that.

"Ah." Saruman looked at his plain linen shirt, stained from the day's work, and doubtlessly thought that obviously, prince Legolas would not have been dressed like that and stood with the servants. But he smiled as kindly as ever and said: "Then you came perhaps with the other wood-elves, those that are now in the mountains? Oh, yes, I knew of them - I have many eyes and ears all over the world, and though I have been unable to help, I was greatly concerned when I heard about them. But fear not", he said gently. "Whether in the forest or in the mountains, wood-elves are brave and hardy. I am certain they will be well."

"Thank you", Legolas said, looking down. Saruman was a wizard, and wizards are good and kind. There was really no reason to be afraid.

Tinuhen swallowed. The Stair looked narrower in the dark.

"We could wait for dawn", said Maidh and did not try to hide his discomfort.

"We could", Tinuhen said, "but I do not want to spend another night in this wretched place if I can help it. Beren needs treatment, and quickly."

"I don't like it, my prince", Maidh said.

Tinuhen did not like it either. There was a reason they had set up camp further down instead of here where they would have been more sheltered. The cliffs rose high on all sides, towering over the worn stairs and blocking the view in every direction. The elves sat silently on their horses with a cold with tugging at their cloaks. No, Tinuhen did not like it at all.

But here was finally a chance to leave the Misty Mountains behind them once and for all. Earlier that day they had finally broken through the mass of snow and stone that had blocked their way, and in the evening the way had been cleared enough that they could pass through. If they started now and rode quickly, they would be well on their way down Caradhras before dawn.

"I know you are uneasy", he said and turned to the others, noting with a start his voice did not ring with its usual authority, "I know you are uneasy", he tried again with more satisfying result, "but what you feel is the wind and the dark and the cold, and there is nothing unnatural about that. Things move in the Mountains. That we know by now. But it is nothing more than a mountain, and Rivendell is on the other side. If we ride tonight and set off again tomorrow as soon as we are rested, we can get there in time for Midwinter."

"This is folly", Hethulin said. Though the others looked at her in shock, it seemed she had voiced their opinions as well as her own.

Tinuhen's eyes narrowed. "Folly, Hethulin?"

"Yes, my prince, and you know it. You will have us stuck up on Caradhras in the middle of night rather than let us wait a few hours more for dawn. Beren..."

"What about him?"

"Nothing, my prince, only he has made it this far. Surely a few hours won't make much difference."

That wasn't what she had meant to say, and Tinuhen knew it. The last week Beren had not opened his eyes once, and the healers had sat with him through every night because they did not want him to die alone. Something had been crushed inside him under the snow, they said, and they could not tell what - it could be just a bone, only pieces of it had gone into his blood stream and poisoned him. Because they couldn't give him the medication he needed, his body had taken to a last resort and simply shut off, saving its remaining strength to keep his heart beating.

"A few hours", Tinuhen said, "may mean the difference between life and death, Hethulin."

"It may", Hethulin said sternly, "for us. I did not dig through all that stone only to be killed - "

"Enough!" Tinuhen snapped. "If you don't want to go, then you may stay behind. But I am going." He turned her back on her to face the others. They were all pale and doubtful, their eyes hollow after so many nights of restless sleep. Tinuhen could not risk to lose his authority over them. It would mean their death.

"We ride now", he said, wearier than he'd wish. "For Beren's sake. For Greenwood's, too. Anyone who doesn't want to go can stay behind - I'm not forcing anyone. But I leave now."He turned his horse around and rode towards the foot of the Stair. Maidh followed, and grudgingly, not without hesitation, the others fell in line behind him. Hethulin was one of the last, but of course, she wouldn't stay behind on her own.

They had to ride in single file. The steps were made low and broad so that horses and wagons could manage them, and Naru had worked on the harnesses so that the pull horses now walked in single file as well; they left anything unnecessary behind. At some places the Stair was so narrow the wagon barely got through, and at others it was very steep. Runes marked the distance as they rode. Every now and then a stone came loose above and the horses shied as it clattered down between them.

They had no torches, for they needed to see well in the dark, but still the shadows seemed to leap and dance around them, and sometimes Tinuhen thought he saw eyes gleaming in crevices high above, but when he looked closely there was nothing. His heart was a tense flutter in his throat and a muscle in his arm twitched. More than once he wanted to turn to Maidh and ask him something, only to hear something else than the wailing wind and the clatter of stones, but Maidh was behind him and Tinuhen wanted to keep his eyes on the path ahead.

His horse was jumpier than ever, shying at nothing and everything; she almost threw Tinuhen off when the wind blew something small and fluttery past his head. Tinuhen turned and saw Tulus catch in in mid-air. He gave it to Maidh, who handed it to Tinuhen. It was a piece of plain uncoloured linen, stained with rust from cleaning old mail. Tinuhen held it up to his nose and sniffed. It reeked off sweat and dirt.

They came to a halt, and Tinuhen hesitated. The wind was stronger now, and the snow smoke was so thick he could not see far. A stone fell to his right; then another, to the left.

But it was not that. Not really.

The stones and the wind were ominous, but they were not a reason to turn. The piece of fabric could mean something and it could mean nothing; it was not a reason to turn.

The reason was that Tinuhen's heart had been screaming danger danger danger since the moment he entered the Stair. He had felt like this before the avalanche; a cold warning urging him to heed it, though it had been faint then and he hadn't understood. Had he followed it then they would not have been stuck up here, the White Council would not have had to be delayed, and Legolas - young naive Legolas that Tinuhen had sworn to protect would not have been on his own in Rivendell. But he had not heeded it then. It had not seemed rational.

Tinuhen clutched the cloth so hard his knuckles whitened. Then he let it fall to the ground and twisted in the saddle, raising his voice above the howl of the wind.

"We will turn. Hethulin is right. This is too dangerous."

Despite the efforts it would take them to turn around in that narrow space, the long way back and the difficulty of setting up camp again in the middle of the night, no one complained. It took them half an hour of arguing and shuffling and moving back and forth to turn themselves and the horses, and when that was done they debated a long while on how to turn the cart. In the end, Maidh - who up until then had hardly proved more useful than as a jester - came up with the idea. They emptied the wagon of all its contents, carefully lifting Beren out and laying him on a blanket on the ground; he did not notice, merely groaned in his sleep; then they unharnessed the horses and coerced them to lay down in the snow. It took seven elves to lift the wagon up in the air and carefully turn it around, carry it over the pull horses and set it down again behind them, but despite the cold and their own uneasiness the act brought a lot of laughter. Laeros sat between the pull horses and kept their heads down when the wagon was lifted over them. There was so much life in him again that Tinuhen almost forgot about Beren's condition. If Laeros could recover, surely Beren could.

When they set off, with the wagon at the head, Tinuhen found himself at the rear. Under other circumstances it might have disturbed him, but it would have taken too much time to get past all the horses and the wagon, only because of a formality. And after all, it did not seem right that a captain should ride at the head when the danger was behind.

And the danger behind them, it turned out, was real enough. It was pure luck - or instinct, maybe - that made Tinuhen look over his shoulder when they were halfway back to the entrance - and there was a shadow moving through the snow behind them. And another.

He went cold.

Goblins.

...is that another cliff-hanger? Yes. Yes it is.

I'm so sorry for the delay, but as I wrote, I'm studying full time now and it's difficult to keep up with the updates. However, I promise you all that I will finish the story, so no worries that I'll leave it! :)