My Fanfiction +++
The wind burns like cold
fire against my face and through my clothes, penetrating down to the
very bone. I have lived with this for weeks. It has never faded,
instead it seems to grow worse with each step. But that is far
better than becoming numb to the biting cold, for with numbness
comes idleness, and you must not stop. Once you stop for any long
period of time, there is no standing up again. That is one reason
our company is not as large as it once was.
Many Elves have been lost to the treacherous terrain along the way.
Losing one life should be unacceptable, but we have lost many.
Despite very much effort, some are unable to go any further and,
tired and cold, they fall behind. In this time I have seen and done
a lot of things that I wish I had never experienced, and the road is
not yet over. This journey, this battle has not come to an end, and
so much more could still be lost.
I look straight ahead. I cannot look back anymore, though part of me
longs to. I still remember the night we left Valinor, a time that
seems so far in the past but can have been no more than a few years
ago. We needed ships for the journey to Middle-earth, ships that
would have helped us avoid the route we are now forced to tread.
I’ve tried to rationalize that night at Alqualondë, the night I
spilled Elven blood in what turned out to be a fight for mere
possessions - for finely crafted wood and nothing more.
I did not strike the first blow, for I was merely defending myself,
but my regret over my deeds and the tears I shed afterwards can
never right this. I remember the bodies lying in the streets all
over the town – males and a few brave-hearted females, rising after
their loved ones had fallen. I was no better than Feanor’s ilk, but
there is still a faint hope that, perhaps, I will be forgiven some
day. I can still feel the red hot anger rising in my chest as I
trudge through the snow, but I push it away. If I allowed it to, the
anger would eat me alive – the anger and the fear that lurks in the
back of my mind.
I have always been skilled in the political arena, the polite
diplomatic face being my mask to the outside world, and I wore it
quite comfortably. But here I am thrust out of my natural skills and
into the midst of the bitter ice, where my expertise in the battle
of wits is of no avail. I vow that I will never be this helpless
again - in the future I, Erestor, will take the path of the warrior.
I draw in a deep breath, although the very air is glass shards in my
lungs. I need to distract myself quickly because it is much too easy
to drown myself in bitter thoughts. I have seen what happens to
those who succumbed to their inner demons. Maybe in the future the
suicides that have taken place here will be recorded by the
survivors, those unwilling to let the ice take its toll.
I will never forget the blood I saw one morning, dark red against
the white of the snow, from a young maiden with no family left to
speak of, no attachments, no will to go on. She had taken a knife
and, intent on ending the misery, killed herself quickly. If
anything, the hardest part of this journey is not putting one foot
in front of another, although that is an arduous task. Rather, I
have found the greatest difficulty is having enough optimism to
believe that this will ever end.
My eyes ache from the wind, but I am still able to spot my lover in
the crowd. There aren’t a great many golden-haired Elves in our
group, and even if there were, Glorfindel would have stood out among
them. Perhaps it is my pride in him speaking there, but I know that
observation to be truth. Normally we would walk together, but we are
separated for the time being, for today he is traveling with his
family and I with mine.
The days spent in his company never seem quite so dark or cold, but
he needed to talk with his brother, and I am not entirely welcomed
by his family. Briefly I allow my eyes to travel over the
well-cherished figure, and memories float through my mind: warm
laughter and teasing kisses, summer days spent outside, either near
the beach or in the long grasses…
My sweeter thoughts are broken by an ominous sound – ice shifting,
fracturing slowly. The sound is deafening; everyone stops to listen.
For a long moment there is silence, and I can hear the pounding of
my heart before the screams start, before the crowd tries to escape.
Chaos swirls around us, the mass of people all moving faster,
dropping what few possessions we have, paying no attention to the
orderly lines that have been arranged and maintained.
Wailing fills the air as I rush through the crowd, barely seeing a
flash of gold in the surrounding crush - of course Glorfindel would
be there, in the most dangerous area, trying to save everyone. There
are too many people between him and me. It all happens so fast - a
loud, cracking sound as the ice finally gives way and then the
screams of the people still left above the surface fill the air. Oh,
no, no, no….not more people lost to the sea, not my Glorfindel.
The broken segment is smaller than we all thought, the air magnified
the sound, but the damage is done. People flounder amidst the large
chunks of bobbing ice, and for one heart-stopping moment I see him
in the water, helping another Elf towards safety where the surface
still holds. I run to help, but others are before me, pulling them
His father is not far behind, but I reach him first, my fear and
anger far outweighing the perceived propriety of the matter. In a
minute that is too long I have him in my arms, shivering against me.
My mouth works without thought, unleashing volleys of words which,
in my fear, I have no control over.
“You insufferable idiot, I can’t believe you just jumped in, we are
never going to be able warm you again! You fool, you doltish,
obtuse, vacuous fool…” I push at him hard, angry with him, angry
with the situation, and he moves a little under it. We are making a
scene, something I usually avoid with all of my power, and I note
that his father watches with a disapproving frown and looks to
Glorfindel grips my shoulders, icy wetness that bites into me, but I
don’t care because he looks at me, tired, cold but every bit as
loving as I know him to be. “I had to do it, love. You know I had
to. To lose someone when it is in my power to stop it…”
“And for me to lose you?”
I say nothing more and neither does he, for what more can be said?
Instead I choose to hug him as hard as I can, and the feel of him
against me is the best and most solid reassurance that he is all
right. I thank every Valar I can remember - I don’t know if they are
listening after this whole affair, but I whisper a prayer before
pulling back to look at him.
His normally tanned skin has a blue sheen to it and his arms are
wet, dripping on me. The top of his golden head of hair is still
crusted with snow; it never sunk beneath the water. I push
perpetually untidy hair away from his face, and though it seems
impossible due to our situation, this little fact makes me smile.
Our reality has changed, but the waywardness of the spun gold has
My fingers trace over his full lips, but this time they are not
curved in the smile that seems to be as natural to him as breathing.
He looks at me intently, still worried about me, about my concern
for him. Typical of my lover; he nearly died himself but still
worries about others. I smile at him softly - what would I be
without him, if he were gone?
Later I will worry about whether there are dry spare clothes, and if
not, how I might possibly keep him warm, but not in this moment. The
world stops when I kiss him, and the cold nightmare that is this
place melts away as I hold him. My fingers have long lost any
sensitivity to touch, but I wind them in hair that I know is as soft
as silk and which smells like summer. Glorfindel’s lips pressing
against mine are cold at first, but quickly heated and he opens his
mouth to me, warm, wet and inviting. In the midst of this cold,
desolate wasteland, I feel like I have reached the only place that
really matters - home.
The kiss is over; the warmth that he brings to my life carries a
heat that soon leaves the mouth, but not the soul. Each smile I see
from him in this difficult journey will be an echo of that kiss, a
light of hope to guide my path. The worry creeps back in quickly,
the realities of this harsh environment can only be put aside for a
moment. But for now he’s safe, which in this time and place remains
all that I can ask. As long as we are together, the darkness cannot
Written For: Tallulah Red