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Across the Ice 5 and 6/24
Beta: Unbetaed
Rating: Possible R-rating for dark themes.
Archive: http://ford-of-bruinen.fluffydragon.co.uk, Silmarillion Writers Guild. All others please ask.
Pairing: None.
Warning: Canon character death eventually
Disclaimer: Not in any way mine
Summary: The story follows Fingon across Helcaraxe from just before the ships burn at Losgar until the rising of the moon.
Findekano looked at him. “I think we all should do what we feel right,” he answered quietly. “Go home if that is what your heart is telling you. I am facing the ice.”
Silence fell as the brothers looked at each other, neither backing down from their convictions.
Turukano eventually broke the silence. “I did not think you vengeful, brother, but I fail to see another reason for your reluctance to return.
Findekano shook his head slowly. “I do not go for vengeance, we have seen enough of bloodshed and hate. I wish to leave to find lands to build my life rather than to live in my father‘s halls. I am no skilled artisan or scholar, life in Tirion holds an eternity of intrigue and inactivity for me. I do not want that.”
Nerwen nodded thoughtfully as she moved to stand beside Findekano. “I will follow you,” she decided. “I will not return to live a lady in my father’s court, playing for power. I will find my own lands and rule them, woman or not.”
Silently her brothers stepped up behind them, adding their own support to their sister and Findekano and so did Irisse. Arakano hesitated for a moment as he stood, not having taken the side of either brother before he shuffled to stand beside Irisse. The silence hung heavily in the air.
Nolofinwe watched thoughtfully as one after another of the children of the noble houses joined Findekano. There was a clear difference in opinion between, mostly, the younger elves who had recently come to their majority and those already Lords or Ladies, or of higher years. He was unsurprised to see many of those who had once come from Cuivienen behind Turukano. Sighing he considered his options, he could see the value in both the opinions being voiced by his sons and he found himself agreeing with both.
He had sworn to follow Feanaro, not knowing what madness would lead them here, to this decision. Was he still bound to a vow despite Feanaro’s betrayal? He closed his eyes, finding himself wishing for his father’s counsel. To keep a promise that would quite possible lead to their deaths or to break an oath and return, tail between his legs, as a kicked pup.
In the silence his people turned towards him, waiting for him to speak, for him to decide on their future. He could not do it, he could not force those unwilling to face the ice, nor could he force so many of the young elves to desert their dreams.
“Findekano spoke true,” he said eventually. “We have reached a point in our journey where no Lord will decide your fates. If you chose to return do so with my blessing, I will think no lesser of you if you were to refuse the dangers ahead of us. Those of you that wish to continue I will lead across the ice. I gave an oath to follow Feanaro’s lead and to that I hold. But,” he continued, raising his hand to signal for silence as the host erupted into discussion, “we will not leave these shores yet. We cannot cross the ice with what we have. We set our camp here and we hunt, we hunt for food and furs for I fear we will need both before this journey is at end. “
Turukano closed his eyes, arms once again going around Elenwe. Around them similar scenes repeated, families were once again being torn between those wishing o remain and those that longed for life in the distant lands. Discussions and arguments cut through the air as did tears and pleading.
Nolofinwe turned his back towards the host, once again staring out across the darkened sea. “Why?” he whispered to himself. “We followed you here, why desert us now?”
Slowly the discussions and arguments died down and the tears dried. No more than and handful left, turning back to a city that might be denied them, the others remained, reluctant to be parted from the families they had followed this far.
In silence they started digging the pits for burying bones and what they could not use. Cairns were build, carefully, to allow shelter for the small fires that would smoke the meat that they caught, conserving it for their journey. Trees were cut down and dug into the half frozen earth, providing poles on which to try and stretch the hides and furs.
The children helped with what they could, gathering stones for the cairns and branches for the fires. What firewood they did not use now was carefully bound in cloth and stacked away for the journey.
It took them days of building before the hunts started, smoking cairns and drying racks waiting for the return of meat and furs.
It was a hard time with little rest. Mainly boys and men joined the hunting groups while the women stayed behind to care for children and the caught prey. Irisse, who had grown up enjoying the chase, joined the hunt by Findekano’s side, her eyes shining of excitement as they tracked the roaming reindeers, the brown bears and small snow hares. In the beginning the game was varied and close, their excursions rarely lasting more than a few hours but soon the game fled and the hunts grew longer and harder, forcing them to drag their slain prey back over large distances. The brown bears were the worst, their bodies large and heavy but their meat good and their furs thick.
In the weeks that followed the encampment stank of smoke and blood. The fires under the meat was constantly burning, women taking turns to stand guards at the smoking huts to ensure that the fires remained lit and the meat did not burn. The frozen field where they butchered the game was red from the blood that had seeped into the ground and constantly did they dig new pits for burying that which could not be smoked and eaten. Yet the foxes and wolves and wild, tufted cats grew closer and closer to the encampment, drawn by the scents of death.
The drying racks held furs and hides that had been scraped before being hung up and as soon as a skin was dried it was taken down and stitched into coats and shoes or set aside and stacked to be used as blankets. Most of the furs still smelt sharply of the animal that had carried them last, adding to the stench that hung over the camp.
Slowly the smoking huts filled with meat, but still they hunted, determined to bring as much meat as they could carry with them in their journey across the ice. More smoking huts were built and tall stands were erected in the middle of the camp. Here they could hang fresh meat to dry in the cold winds that seemed to blow stronger and stronger with every day.
It was impossible to count the time they spent by the shore, hunting and preparing for a walk that could well lead them to their deaths but eventually their preparations came to an end and every man, woman and child were given a pack as heavy as they could carry. Light sleighs made of fur and wood were constructed to help the stronger elves to carry more with them. Nolofinwe and his son’s all dragged one of the makeshifts sleights as did Irisse who had insisted to share her brothers burden. Whatever few horses remained were laden with furs and meat as were a few of the wild caribou that Turukano had manage to capture and tame.
Long weeks after the ships had burnt across the sea they could finally break camp.