The following morning, the company of Thranduil at last took their leave of Greenwood. Telior grew wary without the protection of the trees. Here in the Vales of Anduin, many Orcs still roamed. Although they were far north of where the heir of Elendil had been ambushed by Orcs so many years before, he had the archers string their bows. The company made haste to cross the Great River at the old ford that same day, and so came near to the foothills of the Misty Mountains to make camp for the night. Elluin and Turiel did not attempt to forage for additions to the evening meal. Telior doubled the watch as the company slept.
The night and the following day were uneventful, although the terrain had become more difficult. The Low Pass required them to climb to the knees of the mountains. Thranduil was satisfied with their progress when they stopped for the night more than halfway up to the highest point of the pass. The soldier Harthadon took care in looking over the horses and brushing them down, all the while softly praising them for their toil thus far over bare and unfamiliar rocks outside of the woods that bore them.
They had brought along plenty of firewood and indulged in a small cooking fire. The air was colder in the open and closer to the snow-covered peaks of the Misty Mountains. Turiel urged them all to eat quickly before the air could chill the broth she served for supper. The stars glinted like ice crystals in the cloudless sky, and they decided to forego the tents to stare up at them as they slept.
Although dawn stole their beloved lights away, the Elves rose cheerfully with the sun to complete their ascent into the Misty Mountains. Captain Telior was the only one who was less than optimistic after such a pleasant night. He still did not trust that the Low Pass would be free of Orcs and sent several scouts ahead.
The path was littered with rocks fallen from above, cracked apart by the never-ending cycle of freezing and melting rainwater on the higher peaks. The company was forced to slow their march, allowing for the horses to avoid the obstacles. They reached the summit of the pass just before sunset, and they dismounted to rest. It was a rare flat area where tufts of new grass managed to break intermittently through the rocky soil. The mountain loomed over them on both sides, with the descending sun lighting the snow-covered peaks like beacons of golden flame. Gray clouds had begun to gather, speeding the coming of night.
Telior discouraged undue noise and conversation was muted. The ladies' tent was set up against the likely rain but Thranduil, Berenil, and the soldiers decided that a clear view of their surroundings would be preferable to protection from the weather.
Turiel and Elluin sorted through the panniers to organize a light, cold supper. "The mountain sleeps fitfully," Turiel said with a frown.
"The soldiers have noticed," Elluin said, watching them scan the high cliffs on either side. None of them drew their weapons, but they were tense. The scouts returned while the rest of the group was eating, seated on boulders around the edge of the space.
"Report," Thranduil ordered from his seat beside his aunt.
"My king, we have seen no threats," the soldier Aurados said after a salute. "There is a small stream a short way ahead where we may fill our water skins. We spotted a small herd of ibex a good distance to the north on the western edge of the mountain. We let them be, as the captain desires no cooking fire tonight. There is naught else moving but the clouds."
The king motioned for them to have their meal and Telior set up the next watch. Harthadon was singing softly to the horses where he had them loosely tied to rest. He sang mostly for himself, as the tired beasts showed none of the Elves' nervousness.
The night grew quickly darker as storm clouds continued to gather. Before the light was lost, the ellyn saw the mountain peaks swallowed up in the black mass, which soon started to unburden itself in heavy, icy drops.
Lady Anarrima fell quickly asleep in the tent, untroubled, having slept through many rainstorms throughout the millennia that she had lived. The younger ellith, however, would startle awake now and then when a sudden wind slammed a torrent of rain onto the side of the tent, threatening to tear it from its pegs.
"Do you think there are rock giants in these mountains?" Lady Ninniach whispered to the servants after a particularly loud gust.
"The soldiers said there were at one time, my lady," Turiel answered, "but they have not been seen for many years."
"We would likely hear them before we see them, my lady. So the legends say," Elluin said softly. "Fear not, our guardians will suffer no harm to come to us."
"The Elvenking and his soldiers may vanquish a great many foes," Ninniach mumbled, "but the storms on the mountain will not be conquered."
The storm eventually subsided. The ellyn outside cast aside their oiled leather cloaks and some were able to sleep, enjoying the smell of washed stone and the chill breeze that was the storm's final exhale. However, unrest from the mountain continued to worry them, and Thranduil gave the order to break camp just as the stars were beginning to fade away from the approaching dawn.
Everyone was busy packing up the supplies as best they could in the half-light when a loud crack from the mountain peak above them split the air. The Elves froze and stood silent on the trembling ground as they heard grinding and rumbling travel through the mountain, down towards them.
Silence fell for the space of a breath, then the side of the mountain dislodged.
"Rockslide!" Telior yelled, frantically motioning for everyone to run out of the path of the stones that were starting to fall from the northern peak.
Elluin pushed Ninniach and Anarrima ahead of her toward the southern peak. Amid the deafening roar, she could hear the horses whinnying and the pained shout of some of the soldiers, but she did not turn to look. She ran beside Turiel, scrambling as fast as they could up the opposite slope, pulling each other up whenever they slipped on pebbles washed down by the rain. It seemed that hours went by as Elluin's senses were bombarded – the sound of the rocks crashing and the shouts of her companions; the smell and taste of the dust swirling around her; the veiled sight of the ladies' skirts as they clambered up ahead of her; the scratching of the rocks under her hands and on her legs as she slipped and climbed, slipped and climbed.
Some of the more agile soldiers had reached a ledge above. They pulled the others up as they could. Eventually, the terrible rumbling died down. The dust obscured their vision from the ledge but they could now hear more clearly. They were panting from exertion as the last pebbles fell. The young ellith clutched each other ensuring they were all unharmed while they waited for a clearer view of their surroundings. A pair of voices were grunting below.
Lord Berenil's voice rang out from close by on the ledge. "King Thranduil!" he called.
They all stilled their breathing at once, listening for the reply.
The seconds seemed to drag and Elluin's heart froze. Then they heard coughing from below. At last, the answer came ringing out. "I am here, Berenil. I am unharmed but trapped. Bring my aunt and some ellyn down."
The relief on everyone's faces at hearing the king's voice was quickly replaced by muted alarm. For the king to call for his aunt meant that the services of a healer were required. The dust at last dissipated enough to allow the Elves to see each other on the ledge as the sun started to rise. Most of the soldiers had arrived safely with them. Lord Berenil motioned for a group of them to start descending while he came over to the ellith.
"Lady Ninniach, are you well?" he asked, seeing the young Elf's shaken expression.
"I will be fine, my lord," she answered after a moment.
Elluin caught Turiel's eyes and almost imperceptibly cocked her head toward the lady. Turiel understood the message and put a gentle hand on Ninniach's shoulders. "My lady," she said softly, "will you sit with me on that boulder? The mountain is relieved and sleeps now. We can hear its slumber through the stone."
Berenil nodded his head in approval, as the two ellith walked closer to the rock wall, then held out his hand in invitation to Lady Anarrima.
"My lord, my lady," Elluin interrupted, "I have some training in the basic healing skills."
"Come," Lord Berenil confirmed.
Elluin saw the soldier Aurados starting to make his way down, as well. "Aurados, my lady will likely need water," she said when she caught up to him, following his path down the rocky slope.
"I will try to find one of the buckets," he said.
A light breeze drifted over the mountain, finally clearing the dust from the air and opening the area to their sight. "At last, thank Manwe," Berenil muttered.
Moving down to the floor of the pass proved more time-consuming than the ascent. Elluin nearly lost her footing a few times due to the ubiquitous loose pebbles. However, the sky was brightening and the mountain was pacified, and they feared no other onslaught from the peaks. Their only worry now was what they would find at the bottom.
The landscape was now unrecognizable. The entire face of the northern slope had crumbled away and turned the flat base of the low pass into a disheveled pile of rocks and boulders, some still glistening with ice. Near the base was a gaping void, a once-hidden cave now revealed to the open air. Toward the western edge of the wreckage, ever-faithful Sulros could be seen struggling to move some of the rocks a few feet away from Thranduil, who lay with his arm pinned under a fallen stone. Both were covered in dust and had several scrapes on their skin and tears in their clothes.
As the soldiers approached, Sulros called for them to help him. "Harthadon is under here," he said, breathless with the strain of his efforts. "I think he is unconscious. We saw him run over to the horses but we were too late to pull him out of the way."
"What happened to the horses?" Berenil asked Sulros before kneeling by the king.
"Rocks had blocked their path when they tried to run back toward the way we had come from, and they were too spooked to move, my lord," Sulros said, standing aside to allow a group of soldiers to continue the task. "Harthadon ran over and called to them to run down toward the west. Two of the horses did not escape – the mountain fell too quickly. Captain Telior ran after the rest."
"Harthadon first," Thranduil said when more soldiers moved to help him. "I am in no danger."
Berenil surveyed the collapse. "Rain from last night's storm must have frozen in the deepest fissures of the mountain in the cold before dawn, and split it. Of course the mountain was upset – there was ice growing in its heart."
Aurados recruited another two soldiers to help him pull out some of the supplies they saw buried close by. He ran off toward the nearby stream they had spotted the day before as soon as he found a bucket. The other two Elves soon pulled out the bag that contained the healing supplies and brought it to Anarrima, who brought it to a relatively smooth area to set up a working space.
"Maluven," Elluin said to another soldier who had come down, "we need firewood for heating the water." He nodded and ran off toward some promising trees while Elluin gathered a bed of kindling.
The Elves worked quickly and soon were able to clear away that had buried Harthadon. A gash on the side of his head leisurely bled across the stones beneath him. Lady Anarrima avoided it as she knelt beside the ellon. She quickly moved her hands over him, looking and feeling for injuries. Aurados had returned with the water by the time she had finished.
"He has a broken bone in his leg and I think a few cracked ribs," she declared gravely. "The wound on his head is not deep but must have been caused by some force. I will set the broken bone before he awakens."
Maluven returned with a few pieces of dead wood and, seeing the pile of tinder, set himself to lighting it. Elluin had already started to look for sturdy branches to make the splint. Aurados followed her to a cluster of shrubs a short way up the southern mountain slope and used his dagger to cut the branches she indicated.
As they rushed back down to Harthadon, they heard Thranduil grunt with pain, and Elluin's heart wrenched. Soldiers had just managed to lift off the rock that had Thranduil pinned above the elbow. It was immediately clear that he was, indeed, injured. He had been spared the full weight of the large rock as it was also supported by the surrounding rubble. However, there was a wide, slowly bleeding scrape on his forearm that was already swollen, and the marks where the rock had rested on his upper arm promised a terrible bruise at best.
Despite the sudden ache in her heart, Elluin forced herself to stay her course instead of rushing to Thranduil's side. Harthadon was in most need of immediate care. When she reached him, she laid the splints out for Lady Anarrima's inspection. At the lady's nod, the two ellith worked together quickly to wrap the set bone tightly in the splints. Harthadon groaned but did not open his eyes.
Lady Anarrima looked impatiently toward the fire, where Maluven and Aurados were frantically chipping the bark off more branches with their daggers. The flame was still feeble. "The pain remedy will not work with cold water," she told them.
"The wood is wet from the rain, my lady," Aurados said apologetically. Another soldier had dug out one of the dry logs they had brought with them from the Greenwood and rushed over to set it on the fire.
"Harthadon," said Anarrima, resting a hand on the wounded Elf's forehead, "I will give you something for the pain very soon. Let your body rest, now." The ellon did not move. His eyes remained closed and his breathing was irregular. "He must have punctured his lung," she mumbled.
She motioned for one of the soldiers to help bring him upright, but as soon as they touched him, he moaned in pain. "Let him go, Lostor." She carefully cut off his tunic to search for the cause. "A dislocated shoulder."
By then, Sulros and Berenil had helped Thranduil climb over the wreckage to a steady boulder close to his aunt. He held his wounded arm close to his chest as he sat down.
Elluin held Harthadon steady and Anarrima repositioned his arm. With her quick motion, the ellon cried out in pain, which set off a coughing fit. Elluin glanced at Thranduil as she helped raise Harthadon to a more inclined position, and saw fire in the king's eyes. He was obviously upset about Harthadon's injuries.
Once Harthadon stopped coughing, Anarrima called the soldier Lostor to sit behind him, positioning the wounded Elf to lay back against Lostor's chest to avoid pressure on his tender shoulder and weight on his damaged rib cage. "Do not let him slip down," she ordered. Lostor dutifully remained very still as Elluin fashioned a sling.
Elluin smiled faintly at Lostor as she worked. "Don't worry," she told him quietly, "we will be able to move him against a rock once he has taken the lady's tonic." He gave her a grateful look in response, not wanting to disturb Harthadon by speaking or nodding.
Anarrima moved at last to her nephew with concern in her eyes, quickly examining him with practiced hands. "Sister-son, you were very fortunate. Nothing is broken," Anarrima said with relief. "You could have lost your arm."
"Better my arm than my soldier," he muttered in reply.
She shook her head in disapproval then looked over his forearm. "This wound will need to be cleaned, but it does not look deep."
"My lady," Aurados said, "the water is steaming."
"At last," she breathed, rising. "I will start preparing the poultice for the cuts while it comes to a boil. Keep the fire going. Elluin, can you clean the king's wound?"
"Yes, my lady," she answered automatically, tying off Harthadon's sling. Trying to keep her heartbeat steady, she jumped to pour some of the warm water into a clean bowl from the healer's bag. After retrieving some other supplies, she knelt beside the king.
Thranduil did not move to give Elluin his arm. After a moment, she realized it must have quickly grown cold, stiff, and painful, so she gingerly took his wrist and moved close to rest his arm on her knees. Her fingers tingled at the contact but she paid it no mind, more concerned about her movements causing him pain. As gently as she could, she applied a layer of comfrey to his upper arm where bruising had already started, then wrapped a bandage around it snugly. As she tied the ends, she dared a glance at Thranduil's face. He was still looking grimly at Harthadon, who lay unmoving, supported by his stoic comrade.
Elluin's heart broke for the king and could not resist trying to help soothe the guilt she knew he was feeling while she worked on cleaning the wound on his forearm. "Sire," she said softly, for his ears alone, "Harthadon will recover well. In two weeks, he will be singing as loudly as ever. In a month, he will be dancing. He will soon forget the pain he will have for the next few days and each time he sees one of the horses, he will remember with pride that they live because of him."
Thranduil's eyes softened and he finally released his gaze to the ground.
Before he could respond, he felt Elluin suddenly stiffen. Looking at her face, he saw her eyes shine with tears. He checked his wound but saw nothing but the scrapes, now clear of most of the blood.
"What is it?" he asked her, concerned.
Elluin took a breath to compose herself and met his gaze steadily. "Sire, there are small fragments of stone lodged in the wound. I'm afraid I must cause more damage to remove them."
He looked at her, perplexed that this common procedure would provoke such a response from her. "I trust you have the necessary skill?" he asked, wondering if her reaction was due to inexperience.
"Yes, my king, I have seen several similar injuries," she answered, wiping the final blood stains off the skin around the wound.
Since her expression did not change, he wondered if she doubted his ability to cope with the soreness. "I am accustomed to pain," he reassured her. "I have suffered much graver discomfort in my time."
"Not at my hand, sire," she said, opening a jar of chamomile oil that would help numb the area. Softly she added, "It has only ever been my wish to take away the king's pain."
He watched her as she lightly spread the oil over the places where she would be pulling or cutting out the rock fragments. Then she picked up the small metal tool that would help her grasp the particles. "Forgive me, sire," she said, avoiding his gaze. "This is necessary for proper healing. I will work as quickly as I can."
The combination of the oil and his confusion blocked out even the thought of pain. Thranduil studied Elluin as she worked. His view was dominated by the golden waves of her hair as she bent to her task. However, he could see that the furrow of her brow was due to more than concentration, her cheeks were flushed, and she blinked frequently as if to keep tears at bay.
He recalled the day in his chambers when he first spoke meaningfully to her when he perceived — and she admitted — that she loved him. The Elvenking was gratefully aware of the love that many of his servants held for him. His body servants always attended to him beyond the basic requirements of their post, thoughtfully anticipating his needs and desires, sometimes at the risk of harm. Sulros would have his own scratches for Elluin to tend, acquired while trying to keep his king safe despite his headlong rush into danger.
But something seemed different about the type of care Elluin showed — something beyond the ordinary love of faithful servants of a worthy master, or even the love of family, or kin mentors that he received from his aunt, Berenil, or Cembeleg.
He could not place the cause, but suddenly his position beside Elluin — his knees touching hers, his hand rested in her lap — felt strangely intimate. He was taken aback, having never experienced such a sensation before, but found that he did not wish to move.
His musing was interrupted by a rhythmic sound nearing from the west. The whole company could soon hear the footfalls of horses approaching from down the pass, and Telior's voice coaxing the beasts gently back to the wreckage that nearly crushed them. The Elves' mood immediately brightened to have their companions back.
"Is everyone accounted for?" asked Telior as he arrived, sweeping the area with his keen eyes.
"Yes, Captain," Aurados replied as his second in command, rising from his seat by the fire to salute. "Two soldiers keep watch by Lady Ninniach and Turiel, up on the ledge. The rest of us are here. Only Harthadon was severely injured."
"He will recover well," Lady Anarrima added, walking over to her patient with the pain remedy at last prepared.
Elluin rose with a bow of her head having finished dressing Thranduil's arm, and he felt a sudden tinge of loss. He did not have time to examine the feeling, as Sulros was immediately at his side to help him stand.
"My king, all the supplies have been recovered," he reported.
"Well done, soldiers," he said to the group and turned to Lady Anarrima. "Aunt, when can we move him?"
The king was forced to wait for the reply as Anarrima first administered the pain remedy to Harthadon. Satisfied when he swallowed most of it, she answered, "By horse, likely by tomorrow. And he will need to go slowly. But he can be safely carried on foot in an hour or so."