Again, she fell. Clusters of snowflakes swirled up into her face, pricking her skin and irritating her nose. She sneezed, coughed, and sniffled, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her torn dress.
Looking around, she felt lost and lonely. Her brothers were far ahead, no matter how she called out to them, they continued to fight their way through the winter weather of the Helcaraxe.
Bowing her head, her sniffles turned to sobs and she doubted her decision. A strong hand pressed against her back and the winds were no longer as harsh against her bare hands and ankles. “Are you injured?”
Another sob escaped before she hiccupped the rest into silence. “No. I just tripped over something in the path.”
“A lot of that going on,” answered the Elf-lord calmly as he put his arm around her waist and helped her to stand. “Lean against me. Traveling together will improve our chances, and it makes the journey a little less terrible.”
Glad for the extra warmth and company, Artanis did not shrug off the muscled arm that held her close. Many others at the onset of the journey had offered aid to her, but her pride caused her to turn all of them down. Now her commonsense made her accept.
“Choo!” Pausing to wipe her nose, Artanis smiled apologetically at her companion, her teeth chattering. He smiled back and unclasped his thick fur cloak, lifting his arm to offer her further protection beneath it beside him. It meant she had to wind an arm around him as well in order to walk in step with the great hunter. Few of the company they traveled with were built as he was, few could be truly considered warriors, but this Elda was mighty and strong, and Artanis felt fortunate that she had stumbled when she had.
They did not speak as they trudged along, over the chunks of ice that floated steadily in the frigid waters. It had been lucky that the churning had slowed, for the winds were relentless and the snow made it difficult to see the edges of the iceburgs. Even under these easier conditions, many had fallen in, lost to the unforgiving sea.
Rest came only when significantly sized chunks were found. Groups would huddle together for warmth and security. Often Artanis joined her brothers, but she had over the course of the long hours she had spent with her newfound savior lost track of where they were in the mass of exodusing elves.
“You are welcome to spend the time with me,” he said, seeing her worry as she looked about. “I am often alone during these times.”
They crouched down, facing one another, and he drew her close. She flinched and he said, “You will stay warmer this way,” and she relaxed. The cloak was fastened again, both of them inside the bulging garment. The hood was large and draped down over his head, offering even more protection.
Due to the ill preparedness of the Noldorin exiles, there was no food left, at least none that anyone shared knowledge of, nor was there water. Already rumors had circulated that they had few days to find land or else die of dehydration and starvation. It therefore surprised Artanis when the ellon holding her reached into a hidden pocket of the cloak and removed from it a small package wrapped in cloth. He carefully unwrapped it and broke off two meager pieces of coimis. “Eat this,” he said, pressing one of them to her lips. Gratefully she did, closing her eyes and savoring the bread as it dissolved in her mouth. Immediately, she felt warmer and reenergized.
“Drink this,” he said a few moments later, holding up a flask. “Just a little. Neither of us need you drunk,” he teased as she took a sip. Warmth spread through her entire body as she recognized the liqueur.
“Thank you,” she said, resting her head to his breast after he put away his secret supplies. She heard him murmur something and felt him bow his head and kiss her silver-gold crown of hair. His hands soothingly rubbed her back, and unintentionally she fell asleep.
Her reverie ended amid cries of terror and an ugly, grinding sound. She was yanked to her feet by her wrist and pulled to one side as she fought to gain her bearings again. Turning her head, she noticed that a large split in the ice was forming where she had been slumbering moments ago.
From one chunk of ice to another she was led while so many others panicked around them, screaming and cursing. They made it to a small piece surrounded by larger ones and she was pushed to her knees. “Hold onto me, whatever happens!” From his belt he took a long knife with a broad blade and plunged it with great force into the center of the ice. With one hand he held tight to the hilt, and seized Artanis with the other.
“What is going on?” she shouted over the cacophony.
“Wave!” was all he managed before she saw it coming. The energy rolled through the water, lifting up everything before it, leaving it to slide back down into its wake. Artanis clutched her hero, shrieking when the wave pushed them up. They hit down again with a splash, and found themselves spun away from the host, as many others were.
Some of the elves began to jump into the water, attempting to swim back to their friends and family members. “Wait,” cautioned the blond Elda, his arm locked around her when he felt her lurch forward as if to join the others in the water. “You will freeze to death, whether you make it or not.”
“But, we will be lost!”
“We are already lost,” he said as they drifted further and further away on the swift current. “Eru willing, we will see them on the other side of this forsaken sea. Stay down and we will not capsize; we are actually better off this way. Look; we are floating East.”
Eastward they floated for almost a week. There was not another soul in sight as they traveled on their ice raft, huddled together against the snow and cold. Their supplies would not last them much longer, and they sometimes used their swords to help paddle along.
On the eighth day, the weather took a turn for the worse. Snow turned to rain, the wetness weighing them down and soaking through their clothing. They kept close, shivering together as the winds rose up again, turning the rain to pellets of ice. It stopped almost abruptly, as if Manwe had been having a fit and suddenly stormed back into his house and slammed the door shut.
The situation was assessed quickly. “Despite rumors that temperature is of little consequence to our kind, I do believe I am cold.”
Artanis simply nodded.
“We need to get out of this clothing.” He shoved off the fur cloak, heavy and matted. It hit the ice with a slapping sound that make Artanis jump slightly. “It stands a better chance to dry somewhat that way.” His large hands grasped the corner of the cloak and he began to wring it out into the water.
Artanis did the same with her tattered cloak, and watched as her companion pulled off his tunic, then removed his belt and pulled off his shirt as well. These he laid out, scattered on their floating haven.
“You had better remove the rest. I... I will look this way,” he suggested, turning his back to her. He started to work on taking off his boots and pants as he looked away.
“Is this really wise? How are we to be protected from this cold with our skin bare?”
“I know if we keep these garments on, we will freeze. It... do you have any better idea?”
Timidly, Artanis answered, “Actually, I... I might.”
There was a long pause before he said, “You still need to remove your clothing for that.”
It was how they fought the cold, when it seemed all hope was lost. Together, as close as possible, as one, moving together, each giving what they could to keep the other warm. The first time was very awkward and slow, with Artanis uttering numerous words of encouragement through chattering teeth. This was followed almost immediately by a much more enjoyable coupling.
Soon they had fallen into a comfortable rhythm that made them forget the arctic chill. No part was left unmoving as they caressed and kissed one another. Lips were in constant motion, finding that biting and nipping brought an additional warmth. Hands moved to keep warm, and to warm other things – shoulders, cheeks, arms, thighs, and whatever else could be reached.
And always, always the constant lifeline, the rhythm that kept them alive, like a beating heart. Each climax was merely a short pause before the next thrust. Words were few but sincere. There was little doubt that they were destined for different things, but there was a bond formed between them in those days of uncertainty.
Miraculously, they made it to the shore, and managed to clothe themselves before seen by anyone else. They arrived only hours behind the rest of the host, and were joyfully reunited with their families and friends. Immediately they were separated, each of them taking the secret of their time together with them.
“I am staying.”
Galadriel swallowed hard. “I understand.” She turned her head to the side and added, “I must not like the idea, but I understand.”
“I am Sindar... you know I do not have the same desire to sail that you or your kin do.” Celeborn leaned forward and kissed his wife’s cheek. “I may still come someday,” he whispered for only her to hear. “Do not deny your own happiness for me. I know you had a lover before me. Is he waiting for you in Valinor? Has he sailed already?”
“I... I will not betray you,” she said sternly.
Celeborn smiled, brushed his lips against hers. “You will not. I ‘give my permission’. It would be terrible for me to think of you unhappy in that most blessed realm.”
“Alright,” she said finally. “But promise me, you are to do the same.”
Giving her a nod, he led her to the dock, where they once more said their farewells before she boarded the white ship.
On deck, small clusters of elves mingled here and there. When she had left Valinor, she had been one of the youngest to venture forth. Now, she stood amid elves half her age or less. There were very few left in Middle-earth whom she knew to be her elders, and yet she saw none of them here, not even...
Not even him.
With a sigh, she walked through the others, smiling and greeting those she knew. Spotting Elrond, Galadriel approached, and her heart skipped a beat to see who sat beside him. Her tongue was tied when she came within range to speak, but Elrond excused himself suddenly, called to see something Frodo had discovered.
“Good day.” The warrior stood, fur cloak sweeping across the planks of the deck. “It is good to see you here.”
“You are going home as well?” she finally managed.
He nodded. “I have fulfilled my duty. My destiny lies on the other side of the sea.”
A harsh wind blew through the sails and caused many of the passengers to head below deck. Galadriel crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed her upper arms, shivering slightly.
Glorfindel lifted his left arm slightly. “There is room enough for two,” he offered, a hopeful look in his eyes.
“I do not suppose we shall encounter snow and freezing rain on the return voyage,” stated Galadriel as she snuggled against him, the fur wrapped protectively around her.
“No,” answered the Elda, “but I am sure we can find some other excuse to warm each other.”
