12 Days of Christmas 4 - Let It Snow

[grundyscribbling]

Title: Let It Snow
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Summary: Tindomiel and Anairon on another whirlwind adventure...
Word Count: 2025

Anairon gulped nervously at the thick snow swirling around them.

Unlike most instances of Tindomiel ‘not knowing exactly where she was in relation to the rest of Aman’- her preferred euphemism for what most other elves would call ‘lost’ – this one was likely to result in serious trouble.  And not just from his parents – for once, his mother was not the highest on the list of his worries at the moment.

It had been Tindomiel’s idea that they could make the journey to Formenos on their own, now that they were both officially adults. That it was winter didn’t bother her in the least – in fact, for her that was probably part of the attraction.

His kinsman Elrond’s children had grown up in Imladris, a place that had more marked variation in its climate than Tirion, Alqualondë, or Valimar did. Elrond’s valley in Aman, similar as it might be to Imladris, was located close enough to both Tirion and to Sindarin lands to be an easy journey. As such, it also had only mild changes in weather throughout the year.

Tindomiel got restless if she spent too much time in those latitudes. She missed what she called ‘proper seasons’. She missed snow in winter, and the changing of leaves in autumn. So she periodically went on trips to Formenos, and usually came back happier for it.

But up until now, she’d always made the journey with an adult elf, generally either Anairon’s Aunt Nerdanel or one of her law-daughters. And never when winter had already started – the last time Tindomiel had wintered in Formenos, she’d departed from Tirion with Lindelotë in autumn.

In retrospect, maybe he should have suggested Tinwë stop and think things through when she took it into her head that they should surprise Aunt Nerdanel. Blizzards this far north weren’t uncommon.

That was exactly what they’d blundered into. The snow was coming down so hard Anairon couldn’t tell if they were still on the path or not. He could barely see his cousin in front of him. The only sounds he could hear aside from the wind were the faint crunches of their footsteps and the magnified sound of his own breathing. The storm was swallowing everything else.

“Tinwë!” he shouted.

He had to shout. He didn’t think she’d hear him otherwise.

You might as well just use osanwë, she replied matter-of-factly. You’ll end up shouting yourself hoarse otherwise. Not to mention, end up with chapped lips. Pull your hood down and your scarf up!

He did as she instructed, well aware she had more experience of winter weather than he did.

Fine, he said. No shouting. But I was going to say…

Yeah, yeah, she sighed. Lost. For once, I concede. But mostly because I can’t see more than a few yards in this mess. We might as well make camp for the night.

He blinked.

You want to camp in this?

Seeing as the other option is to continue wandering around in near white-out conditions and maybe walk right off a cliff, yes, she replied wryly. I can’t tell where the path is anymore, can you?

For all he knew, they haven’t been on the path for the last half-hour or more. He’d been following her in the hope she knew what she was doing.

But I didn’t bring-

Yes you did, actually. Her tone was equal parts exasperation and resignation. Even if you didn’t think to, your father definitely added a few blankets and other needful items to your pack. He does know a thing or two about winter travel.

Anairon would not have dared put it like that.

Why not? It puts our situation in perspective, doesn’t it? Tindomiel said briskly. This storm will probably blow itself out by morning. Grandmother and your father and brothers spent years on the Ice. At least I have a winter tent. And we’re not in desperate straits for food.

That was a bright spot. They wouldn’t have to hunt.

More like wouldn’t be able to hunt, Tinwë snorted. If we can’t see more than a few yards, trying to hunt is a waste of time.

Right. So where do we set up camp? Anarion asked nervously.

From what little he could see, one patch of snow was much like another. How were they supposed to pick a good spot? He might not be very experienced, but he did know you didn’t set up your tent just anywhere.

Tindomiel pulled the sword she was not supposed to be carrying out and started testing the snow with it.

Here is good, she said eventually. There’s either solid ground or solid ice underneath, a foot or so down. We can pack snow to make a windbreak around the tent once I get it up.

Anairon flushed a bit, thankful she couldn’t see his reaction to her blithe assumption that he wouldn’t be much help with that particular task. It was probably accurate despite all the traveling they’d been doing the past few years, but it grated all the same.

You’re pretty good with summer tents now, Tindomiel told him apologetically. But the one I packed for this trip is a little more complicated, and I didn’t think to have you practice with it before we left the warm. If you want to help, tramp down the snow for me. We need it packed pretty well before the tent goes up. Otherwise the floor will end up all uneven and we might damage the tent.

Anairon wasn’t sure if she was just saying that to mollify him, but he started stomping around all the same, taking his cue from Tinwë on how big the area should be. She, meanwhile, was shrugging out of her bulky pack – which now that he looked at it, was considerably bigger than the ones she’d travelled with in warmer weather.

By the time he had the area she wanted tamped reasonably flat and to her satisfaction, she’d extracted a much larger, heavier mass of material than he had expected.

Following Tindomiel’s directions, he managed to help her get the tent up despite the wind.

He started to gather snow to pack around it as she’d suggested earlier, but she stopped him.

Come set your pack down inside first, Tindomiel said. And help me get the stove lit. By the time we get done packing the snow we’ll probably be warm enough to want to take some of these layers off, and we can’t do that if it’s still freezing inside.

He stepped carefully inside, and was relieved to find that as soon as the flaps of the vestibule closed behind him, the sound of the wind died down enough that they could actually talk.

“Set the packs down here for now,” Tindomiel said, indicating the cloth ‘floor’. “They’ll stay dry enough.”

“You have a stove?” he demanded, not distracted in the least by such niceties.

The small foldable implement she withdrew from her pack didn’t look much like a stove…

“Yep. It’d be better if we had brought firewood, but I’ve got some of those compressed wood shavings pellets the Lindar make. They should do us for a couple days at least. Maybe even a week. Not that I think the storm will last that long.”

“And if they don’t?” Anairon asked, trying not to get too worried.

She shrugged.

“Worse comes to worse, I burn some of my extra socks,” she shrugged. “I don’t think it will though.”

She left her boots in the vestibule and set the stove in the area of the tent evidently meant for it, connecting a collapsible pipe to a port in the ‘roof’ Anairon hadn’t noticed. Then she lit it.

Anairon felt more cheerful just seeing the glow of the small fire. Tindomiel sang quietly over it, probably to make sure it would burn slowly or not throw sparks or something.

“So what are we doing when we go back outside?” he asked.

Tindomiel raised a hand to about a rangar off the ground.

“Make snowpack bricks and build a windbreak yea high around the tent with the entry on the leeward side,” she explained. “It will make it easier to keep the warm in and help stabilize the tent.”

“How do you know all this?” Anairon demanded. “I thought you never went outside Elrond’s valley in winter.”

“Just because I didn’t go outside the valley doesn’t mean my parents and brothers and sisters and Glorfindel and Gildor and Erestor and everyone didn’t train me,” she huffed. “It snowed in winter. I’ve had some practice at this.”

Anairon waited, because with Tindomiel, there was almost always more.

“I just never had to set it up more than a shout away from help if I needed it before,” she admitted after a moment. “But I do know what I’m doing. And it’s my tent.”

A light touch of osanwë told him that wasn’t a moment of Tinwë being childishly possessive so much as Tinwë meaning to reassure him that their shelter wasn’t something she’d borrowed from some relative who hadn’t used it for the last couple yeni. Her father had given it to her expressly for winters up north.

That did make him feel better. As did the thought that if things got bad enough, Tinwë would swallow her pride and appeal to her grandmother Melian or any maia who happened to be nearby for help.  

“Ok, let’s do this,” he said.

He wasn’t thrilled about heading back out into the snow, especially since even after only a few minutes, the tent was already getting quite cozy. But if she thought they should make a windbreak, that was what they’d do.

“Wait a minute,” she sighed.

She dug in his pack and came out with a pair of gloves he hadn’t known he’d brought, and what looked like a fur ruff. How much had his father added?

“These will keep your hands dry longer,” she said. “The fur clips into your hood, it’ll help keep your face warm. And once you get your boots back on, pull your trouser cuffs over your boots, that way if you hit a snowdrift or a deep spot you won’t get snow in your boots.”

Anairon did as he was told.

Making the windbreak went quicker than he’d expected, despite it being harder than it had sounded when Tinwë first explained it. To be fair, she also had the knack of compacting the fresh snow into bricks fairly quickly.

Practice, she told him with a shrug. If you want, we can practice once we get to Gramma Nerdanel’s. There’ll be enough snow there.

Anairon snorted. Unlike Tindomiel, he’d be quite happy to stay inside by a fireplace once they got to his aunt’s house. The one in the kitchen would suit him just fine, but the one in the library was also rather nice. Winter was, as Tindomiel would say, not his jam.

Or not, she sighed. It was just a thought. Anyway, this is good enough. We can go back in now.

He was happy enough to hear that. He just hoped that they got to stay inside this time.

“Yeah, we do,” Tindomiel announced once they were safely in the vestibule. “Until it stops snowing. So probably tomorrow sometime.”

Inside the tent proper, she started pulling off her outer layers.

“Change,” she instructed. “That way you’re in warm, dry things. And I guess we get to find out how good I am at camp cooking.”

Anairon blinked. Usually her cooking wasn’t to be trusted…

“Better idea,” he suggested lightly. “After I change, we find out how good I am at camp cooking.”

He’d never tried to cook on a stove like the one heating the tent, but given the choice of ‘let Tinwë cook dinner’ or ‘figure it out’, he’d take the latter any day.

“If you insist,” she chirped, not sounding bothered at all. “I think I have the stuff to make s’mores in here somewhere.”

Anairon refrained from asking if she’d gotten them snowed in on purpose and unfolded the portable cookpot. S’mores were all well and good, but hot soup would be better.

 

Comments

[lferion]

I do like competent Tinwe, even if she has gotten lost. I don't expect they are terribly far from Formenos.

[grundyscribbling]

She would be the first to point out that you can't hold getting lost in whiteout conditions against her! :)
They're not far off, no. There will be much grandmotherly dismay whenever they get there...