B2MeM Challenge: Image prompt: Winter Fog and Trees
http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/the_winterwitch/13030705/4348/4348_original.jpg
Format: Ficlet
Genre: horror, hurt/comfort
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Characters: Aragorn, Halbarad, OMCs
Pairings: none
Summary: Aragorn loses his way in thick, freezing fog.
The fog came down unexpectedly. One
moment, Aragorn was trudging determinedly through the snow on his way to the
Ranger’s meeting place, his mind filled with daydreams, the next he was
enveloped in a freezing white blanket.
He cursed inwardly. He had been a Ranger for over a year now. He should have
been more alert to his surroundings and seen it coming. What would Master
Elrond and the twins have said about such carelessness? He could not recall
them ever having given him advice concerning finding his way in fog, though; it
was never foggy like this in Rivendell. A fine mist would sometimes hover
around the Bruinen, but that was all.
Aragorn concentrated on simply keeping moving. If he stayed onthe path and kept
walking towards the North, he would reach his destination. He could see neither
sun nor stars, though, and soon he became uncertain in which direction he was
heading. He continued moving until he began bumping into trees and bushes. It
was hard to see even a short distance ahead. He had never seen anything like
this fog. Was it some device of the enemy? It was then he almost collided with
a vast pine tree. Strange, he was certain this part of the forest was
broadleaved trees. He looked around him, trying to make out indistinct shapes
in the fog. The trees he could make out were mostly shaped like pines. Where
was he? He could not recall this part of the forest.
It was then Aragorn began to feel frightened. He was hopelessly lost. He could
hardly see his own feet in the icy whiteness. Tendrils of mist seemed to wrap
clammy fingers around the exposed areas of his skin. Did foul creatures lurk
here? He knew he was not far from the Barrow Downs. Did the ancient evil that
lingered there reach into this forest? The young man’s heart thumped wildly. He
knew he should keep moving, but the further he wandered the more hopelessly
lost he became.
Maybe he was nearer to the campsite than he thought Aragorn whistled the
birdcall, which the Rangers used as a signal, but the fog muffled his voice. He
felt as if he were enveloped in a thick freezing blanket. Trying to overcome
his fear, he kept on walking; hoping that he would reach a place where the fog
was thinner and he could see the way ahead. His hopes were vain, for if
anything, the mist seemed to thicken and wrap its tendrils more tightly around
him. The damp permeated his many layers of clothing and the woollen fabric felt
cold and wet. Completely disorientated, he paused for a moment beneath a great
pine. He began to feel very sleepy. Aragorn stamped his feet as he struggled to
remain alert. It was growing dark and the forest was utterly still. Not a leaf
stirred and no birds sang.
A dark shape loomed out of the mist
and he knew no more.
000
“Wake up, come on, wake up!”
Aragorn blearily opened his eyes a slit at the sound of Halbarad’s voice. He
was cold, so very cold. “Can’t get warm,” he muttered through chattering teeth.
“Throw more logs on the fire and huddle closer!” Another voice, which he
recognised as belonging to Vardamir, the oldest of his patrol.
Aragorn realised there was blissful warmth emanating from either side and in
front of him.
“Make him a hot drink, Vardamir,” said another voice, this time belonging to
Tarcil, a young Ranger who was the proud father of two children and rarely
ceased talking about them.
Aragorn forced his eyes open. He was lying in front of the campfire, wrapped in
blankets and tightly wedged between Halbarad and Tarcil. The fog still lingered
amongst the trees, but it was much clearer here. He noticed that his damp cloak
and outer garments had been laid out to dry in front of the fire.
“Here, drink this, it should get some warmth into you, lad,” Vardamir thrust a
steaming mug into his hands, in his concern forgetting the usual deference he
showed the young chieftain. Aragorn did not care. He tried to grasp the mug,
but it almost slid from his frozen fingers. Halbarad gripped it and held it for
him. Aragorn took a sip. It was soothingly warm. He concentrated on his
drink for a few moments then asked, “What happened?”
“That is what we wondered,” said Halbarad. “We were sore worried when you
failed to arrive at the meeting place.”
“I lost my way in the fog,” Aragorn said sheepishly.
“A Ranger who gets lost!” Halbarad tut tutted, but he placed a comforting arm
around his kinsman’s shoulders.
“I know,” Aragorn said glumly.
“Cheer up, lad, we’ve all done it once in our youth,” said Vardamir.
“How did you find me?” asked Aragorn.
“When you never arrived at the meeting place, we set out to find you,” Tarcil
answered. An experienced Ranger can pick up tracks even in thick fog.”
“We found you collapsed beneath a great pine tree. You were frozen half solid,”
Halbarad continued. “We hurried back to the campsite with you to thaw you out.
Don’t ever do that again, kinsman, you scared us half to death! We feared we
had lost you when we came upon you lying so cold and still. You are lucky even
the Orcs fear to be abroad in such weather.”
“I fear I still have much to learn,” said Aragorn.
“Never fear lad, we will teach you,” said Vardamir.
“We’ll make a Ranger of you yet,” said Halbarad.
Aragorn felt his spirits lifting. The terrors of the fog-shrouded forest seemed
remote now. He was finally feeling truly at home amongst these men. It was
obvious that they cared about him and not only for what he represented to them.
He huddled into the blankets, enjoying the comforting warmth around him and took
another sip of his drink.