The first night
The small fire sputtered in the light rain, giving very little heat.
Durin shivered and cast a handful of leaves into the flames. "You've smothered it with too many large branches!"
Elrond, reclining on the bank of the small dell, did not pay much mind to Durin's frustration.
"I dare say you do not even feel the cold!"
Eyes to the night sky, Elrond smiled to himself. "There you are wrong, my friend. For a half-elf, a chill is a thing to be feared."
The sceptical sound from Durin's throat caught the fire's smoke, and he found himself coughing until red in the face. He put aside his dinner and took the water flask Elrond offered with mild chagrin.
Comfortable silence reigned for some time after. The light rain had slowly soaked into Durin's cloak, the fur now cold at the edges, but his initial frustrations were eased by the ale brought from home - deep and strong. It warmed his belly and settled the discomfort of camping outdoors. Using his little finger, he pried loose a bit of gristle that had wedged itself in between his teeth.
Elrond returned to his supine position, the firelight reflecting off his profile. Durin preferred his friend this way, not buttoned up for courtly duties, but untamed curls, a practical cloak carelessly thrown over one shoulder and eyes lit by the stars.
A thick raindrop peeled off the tree above and landed on Durin's nose. He shook it off with a scowl. "We could do with a nice, warm cave…"
Durin didn't realise he had spoken aloud until Elrond scoffed, "Dark, cold, lifeless…"
"Not my caves!" he protested loudly. "The hospitality! The food! A fire blazing in the hearth…"
Durin opened his mouth to add more, but their long held faux-argument did not require it. He chuckled, and returned to the remains of his dinner. Picking through the elf's leafy greens* for something of sustenance, he found a tasty morsel and used strong teeth to tear the meat from the bone - when the sensation of cold fingers brushed his neck…
Not fingers - raindrops…
He flinched, shrugging the feeling away with a gruff exhalation.
Elrond did not notice his hesitation and continued humming an old tune.
Durin put down his plate again, his appetite lost, and asked, "How long until our return?"
Elrond broke off the melody, forehead creased in thought. "Four days, at the very least." He raised his eyebrows and his tone became mocking. "Do not tell me you are fatigued?"
"Only fatigued from the company," Durin joked.
The river had risen since their last passing, and they had been forced to skirt around lest Durin's beard be soaked through in the crossing. Their return to Khazad-dûm had taken longer than expected. In truth his summer journeys with Elrond* were a great source of joy and adventure in a life where duty cast a long shadow. He tried not to consider how long they could be indulged.
Durin expected a witty retort, but found the elf's eyes fixed beyond him, outside their small circle of firelight. Elrond's jaw was clenched tight, his body tensed for movement.
"Elrond?" he asked warily.
Elrond remained still a moment longer, then relaxed. "It is nothing. A darkening of the shadows. A bird or bat passing over the moon, no doubt."
"No doubt." Durin nodded.
A sudden wind rose up, sweeping through the dell, and with it took the remnants of their fire.
Durin groaned, poking the coals to see if he could reignite the blaze. Shapes amongst the kindling caught his eye, white amid the black coals - shapes that looked suspiciously like bones. They drew his gaze, as if portending evil.
They slept fitfully that night - each twisting in their bedrolls until a clouded sun limped over the horizon.
Notes:
The title is from The History of Middle-earth X - Morgoth's Ring - Part Five - Myths Transformed
A little tribute to Jennistar's The Last Summer - which so beautifully showed these two travelling together each summer.
Would love to hear any of your favourite fic recommendations as only joined the fandom recently :)
If you enjoyed this beginning, I have a fair bit mapped out so will hopefully add more soon.