The Other Ranger [ Lord Of The Rings x Silmarillion ]

The Cairn

Grimbeorn and the elves left after a good breakfast that morning of eggs and meats. Their horses were well rested and ready for another full day's journey through the mountains.

They guessed their journey through the High Pass would take them today and tomorrow and out by the next. There were snowfalls that came and went all throughout the travel day which made things slower.

Miril rode Daeroch into the middle of the group. They rode two abreast. Glorfindel upon Asfaloth and Grimbeorn upon his hearty beast went in front, followed by the Twins. Then Miril rode beside Mirmegil with the other two male elves bringing up the rear. Mirmegil kept her grey cloak's hood up over her face for the entire time, limiting Miril to silence.

All through the day the wind gusted around them. Their journey back would be much more treacherous, that was for certain. It would be mid December by the time they would reach the High Pass coming back from Lothlorien.

"We are fortunate the snow is light." Miril looked to see if Mirmegil would respond.

The elven maiden sighed and turned to face Miril. "Indeed. It would be more treacherous if the snow was harder."

"I dread our return," Miril said with a frown. "Though I suppose you will be returning sooner than us. The Gladden Fields are much closer than Lorien."

Mirmegil nodded. "I do not fear the snow, in any case. Let it come."

Subconsciously, Miril looked to the sky and hoped no one was up there to accept the challenge issued by Mirmegil. Half expecting the snow to pick up, she went back to her silence as Mirmegil returned to her own quiet contemplation.

Elladan and Elrohir were riding side by side as they often did. The wind made conversation difficult unless two were right next to each other. As such, private conversation was possible despite the high number of elves. Even their keen hearing was no match for the intensity of the winter wind.

"She had another dream last night." Elladan told his brother this as quietly as he could.

Elrohir sighed. "They seem to be becoming more frequent."

"You have not told father. Why?" his brother asked him.

Why? He wasn't entirely sure. All Elrohir knew was that something was keeping him from bringing the dream up with Elrond. Misplaced, perhaps, but certainly there. He let the silence drag on for a moment.

"I am not certain," Elrohir revealed.

Elladan shrugged his shoulders. "She told me last night that she plans to talk to Galadriel when we arrive about it."

"We had spoken about that, yes," Elrohir said.

Suddenly Mirmegil gave a shout.

"Yrch!"

Everyone froze as she held up her jeweled sword, the one of ancient elvish and dwarf make from Nargothrond. It was glowing brightly blue.

Suddenly they heard a shout from Garavon and Caladir at the back. One of them was slammed off the back of his horse and lay on the ground, a goblin on top of him.

Everyone dismounted, Garavon trying to get the goblin off Caladir. But it was too late. The goblin had stabbed the elf with a dagger in his neck.

More goblins began climbing out of cracks in the wall. There were maybe twenty five of them. Small and agile and full of malice, they lacked but one thing: coordination. This made them relatively easy to pick off one by one.

Grimbeorn swung his huge axe and pushed four goblins off the ledge. The horses, quite scared of the fighting, struggled to remain on the ledge. They scurried forward, almost taking Grimbeorn with them. He managed to dodge the stampede and went back to killing goblins.

Glorfindel grabbed a particularly small goblin by the neck and held up up off the ground.

"Take a message to your master. Stay away from the High Pass or suffer the consequences."

Glorfindel dropped the goblin to the ground and it scurried away in fright. The few remaining goblins followed suit.

Glorfindel hurried over. "Is Caladir-"

"He's dead, my Lord." Garavon said sadly as Caladir was his cousin.

"May he rest well," Glorfindel sighed. "Come. We must find the horses and hurry on. Bring his body if you wish it, Garavon. We shall build a cairn for him if we can."

"Aye, my Lord."

Grimbeorn had gone ahead and managed to calm the horses down. When the elven party caught up to them he sighed upon seeing Caladir's limp body.

"A tragedy, indeed. My men must step up their defense of this area." Grimbeorn handed the reins of Caladir's horse over to Garavon.

They all mounted up again and continued on in silence. Mirmegil kept her sword out but it remained pale. No glow warning them of orcs.

By nightfall they reached yet another settlement of the Beornings. It was set up very similar to the one from the night before. Grimbeorn dismounted his steed and the elvish company followed his example.

"Once your horses are stabled we shall honor your fallen comrade," Grimbeorn said. "I shall have my men prepare a cairn immediately."

The elves and half elves left Caladir's body with a man of the Beornings while they went to stable their horses. Meanwhile Grimbeorn spoke to the men of the settlement and they began to construct a cairn. Within twenty minutes, well after nightfall, the cairn was ready. The Beornings not on guard duty or busy in the kitchen came out and joined the the group as Garavon lay Caladir's body upon the cairn.

"Farewell, cousin. May the Halls of Mandos be restful for you," he whispered, laying a hand on Caladir's cold chest.

Stepping back to the other elves he watched as Glorfindel was handed a large torch. He walked forward and lit the cairn.

Miril watched as the flames danced around the body of her fallen comrade. She hadn't known Caladir well at all, but the sadness on the face of Garavon, his cousin, was enough to make her feel the loss.

After all, she knew that kind of loss. The loss of Eldir her brother at such a young age still stayed with her. Though it was nearly thirty years in the past, that day was a day that she could never remove from memory.

Later that night, Miril found herself woken by nightmares of Eldir's death. She'd woken in sweats with Elrohir concerned by her side.

"Are you alright," he whispered. "You were thrashing."

"I need air," was all she said.

Throwing on her cloak and boots, she pushed out the door past Elrohir and walked through the couple inches of snow that lay on the ground. It crunched loudly beneath her feet as she sped forward.

Elrohir followed her. "Wait, little one."

The fact that she didn't bite back with some kind of retort worried him. But she did stop racing away. He caught up to her.

"Is it the dream again?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Not that one."

"What then?"

She paused, reaching into her pocket. She fingered a worn, brown button that she kept hidden at all times. Her eyes watered as memories flooded back. Memories about Eldir.

"Nightmares," Miril said quietly. "You weren't there that day, Elrohir. The day... The day he died."