Title: Snowfallen
Author: Nauta Aragorn
A/N: This story takes place after Fosterling; Aragorn is about twenty years old.
Summary: “Being able to walk on top of the snow is only good if you’re actually on top of the snow.”
Spoilers: Small one for Fosterling
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, don’t sue. (All the money I had is tied up into the LotR franchise already!)
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“This isn’t funny, Legolas.” Estel snarled.
The Elf wore a mask of perfect composure on his face. “I never said that it was.” He kept pace beside the Man, although it was clear that he could have easily outdistanced him in a matter of moments. He looked down at Estel struggling through the snow, and resisted the urge to shake his head. “It was your idea to come out here.” He reminded.
“I never asked you to come with me.”
“Nor did you ask me to leave you.”
“I must not have been thinking clearly.”
Legolas laughed, knowing that there was no true malice behind the words. “Tell me, how did you ever fair with your brothers when you were younger?”
“You were there for much of it.”
“Ah, but by then, you knew how to compensate. I meant when you were a child.” Legolas put a touch of persuasion into his words, knowing that if he could get Estel talking, it would take his mind off the cold.
“I think I’m glad you weren’t there the first time it snowed in Rivendell.” Estel told him.
“How old were you?”
“About six, I think.”
“That old?”
Estel nodded, wrapping his cloak more tightly about himself as he concentrated on making it up what used to be a small rise. “The weather had been quite mild for my first few years there, with the exception of the Summer storms.”
“And you nearly caught your death in one of those, if I remember correctly.”
“Must you bring that up? Besides, I thought you wanted to hear about the snow.”
“So I did.” Legolas agreed, not particularly wanting to recall the other. “So what happened?”
“I don’t think I’d ever seen snow before that; if I had, I don’t remember. So I was fascinated, of course – and when Elrohir offered to take me outside with him, I leapt at the chance. To this day, he swears that he didn’t plan what happened, but I don’t believe him.” Estel laughed in spite of himself. “He made me dress warmly, so you can’t tell me that it hadn’t crossed his mind.”
“That what hadn’t crossed his mind?”
“Are you making fun of me?” Estel asked, looking up at Legolas speculatively. “I take it back, if that was a sincere question, maybe he really didn’t know what would happen.” He lowered his head as he leaned forward, one hand out as if to touch the snow.
“You can’t pull yourself up.” Legolas said in disbelief.
“I know. Balance.” Finally gaining the top of the rise, Estel straightened, and silently looked at their surroundings.
“What happened?” Legolas pressed.
“He jumped from the top of the stairs, and of course landed perfectly. That made the distance look very short indeed, so I jumped after him.”
The Elf winced.
“Exactly. The drift was particularly deep, so the next thing I knew, I
was buried in it, and terrified.” Estel laughed at the memory. “It
certainly wasn’t funny at the time! He dug me out quickly, though… either
because he was truly concerned, or he was afraid that
Legolas smiled. “It must have been frightening for you.”
“At first. And it did serve to underscore yet another difference between me and the rest of my family.”
“And?”
“And, it aggravated me to no end. But as you yourself pointed out, I learned to compensate.” Estel nodded to himself, apparently having rested long enough. He took a step forward-
-and then let out a rather undignified yell as his feet shot out from underneath him. There was no hope of regaining his balance as he fell, and he tumbled down the long slope, landing in a heap at the bottom.
“Estel!” Legolas cried, swiftly making his way to the bottom. The snow had collapsed in on top of the Ranger, partially burying him. Legolas crouched down beside him, frantically brushing it aside. “Estel?”
Steel blue eyes opened. “Legolas?”
The Elf nodded. “Are you all right?”
The Ranger squinted as he shifted slightly. “Think so.”
“Here, let me help you.” Legolas said, offering a hand to his friend. He had just enough time to be startled at the strength of the hand gripping his own, before he was pulled down into the snow.
The fight started in earnest then, and they rolled over and over like two puppies before finally breaking apart, gasping. Estel started at the disheveled Elf, and laughed. “Being able to walk on top of the snow is only good if you’re actually on top of the snow.”
“You tricked me!”
Estel nodded, still grinning.
“You could have been hurt.”
“No excuses, mellon nin.” Estel replied. “I bested you.”
“I ought to leave you out here.” Legolas grumbled, escaping to higher ground.
“It’s your fault, you know.” Estel called after him.
Legolas turned.
“You asked me how I faired with my brothers. Now you know.”
The Elf managed to maintain his irritated disposition for about five seconds more, before he began to laugh as well. “That I do, Estel. That I do.”
End
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