The Webs We Weave

And so went their company. Anoron stayed quiet, and spoke to no one, save Aragorn and the other two rangers there. Perhaps on occasion Gimli the dwarf; he was a loud, scruffy dwarf, and Anoron found his stories quite amusing. He was the only source of laughter she recieved. Even then, she didn't show such a quality to the elves in the group. She stayed clear of them, knowing none of them liked her, so it would be best to keep clear. Yet as the company travelled, leaving wood behind and coming to the plains -- they began to reach the River Snowbourn; given it's name because of the cold temperature.

Since it was near the mountains - the cool wind from the high altitudes blew down, giving the area thick coverings of snow and ice. Aragorn knew it was close to winter, yet it seemed Edoras and the surrounding areas were into the season before Gondor. "We'll rest here," Aragorn announced, as the company came past the boarders of the mountain, near the river, which had frozen over.... and looked to be of similar ground than everything else. "Come morning, we'll begin to make way towards Edoras. We can restock there." He said with a nod.

Anoron swung off her steed, and tied it with the others, alongside Aragorn's horse. "Elrohir," Aragorn said. "Perhaps you can search for firewood." He said, before walking off to tend and speak with Gimli.

Elrohir sneered. He didn't wish to do such work. It was then he laid eyes upon Anoron. The female. "Anoron." Elrohir barked. "Go find firewood." He ordered.

"Where am I to find such a thing?" She asked oddly. "There are no groves nor brush around here." She said. "Besides.... Aragorn told you to go."

Elrohir tilted his head. "Searching for firewood is beneath me, and above you. Since I am ALSO above you.... I can order you to get firewood. Check along the riverbank for sticks and bark that would have frozen while floating by. Daft girl." He grumbled, walking away from her. Anoron sighed, knowing she had no choice. She'd gone a week or two without speaking to ANY of the elves, and rightly so.

Sighing, Anoron walked off to begin looking for firewood; sticks, twigs, bark -- anything she could find. Anoron had a small armload of tinder after a while - and was heading further from the camp, when suddenly a sound, as if an explosion of sorts, rang out. The ground shifted beneath her feet, ice slowly cracking into an ever widening crevice. Anoron looked down in confusion and horror as the ground split away beneath her.

She tried to move, but it was too late, as she fell below the ice and into the freezing depths below - when she realized what the snow had buried: the river. The rocky formations had really been the tops of water-logged boulders stretching their noses into the air. She'd forgotten the river's edge had been so close, and in her hunt for twigs, walked out past the bank. Anoron panicked and sank fast, dragged down by her pack, and the wood she still clutched.

The cracking sound shot through everyone's nerves, and, as one, they whirled around to face this new, unknown danger. It took Mordecai, another ranger, but a moment to register that Aragorn was skidding across the icy field on his belly, aimed at a widening fault in the ground. The group was running and skidding towards the crack in the frozen ground after the king.

Aragorn had been facing Anoron's direction, watching her and about to question Elrohir -- when she had broke through the ice. He had seen her fall into the widening maw. Without thinking, he tossed away bow, slid out of quiver leathers, and tossed himself at the last place he'd seen the horrified girl. The ranger skidded across ice, his shirt sliding up and causing scratches across his skin.

Then, Aragorn was at the opening and had to brace himself against the boulder tops to stop his forward momentum. Plunging arms, and even head, into the icy water, he grasped blindly for Anoron's frozen fingers… her still hand. Aragorn risked the ice opening further and swallowing him, as well, but it was a risk he was willing to make for one of their kin.

Mordecai and Legolas saw Aragorn's peril simultaneously, and both elf and ranger ran forward to aid him. Mordecai threw himself to the ground, praying it would be solid, not the treacherous ice. He was fortunate, as Anoron had fallen near the edge of the hidden waters. Legolas threw himself on top of Mordecai, holding onto the other man's legs, forming an anchor that might be the only thing between three of the group and death.

Grabbing quickly, Mordecai managed to barely grasp one of Aragorn's booted ankles. He held tightly, balancing himself with the aid of Legolas behind him. Then, as he became sure of himself, he started to tug on Aragorn's ankle. The ranger king had been half immersed in the freezing water for too many long seconds as it was. They could not risk losing both the king and Anoron.

With a kick that nearly bloodied Mordecai's nose, but drew him back from his unhappy conclusion, Aragorn managed to get his other foot on the ground. Mordecai gripped it tightly, pulling both feet now. The man seemed unbearably heavy for one. Then, Mordecai saw why.

Aragorn was clutching the she-ranger to him; Anoron. His arms wrapped tightly about the girl, under her arms. The ranger had his face buried in Anoron's frozen hair, and was coughing up ice water, but he held onto her with all his hidden strength.

The other Elves, Gimli and ranger who had accompanied stood watching with horror. They headed towards the spot, but stopped, realizing that no one knew just where the pond ended and where it began. Any step could plunge one of them into an icy death. Instead, they had to content themselves with watching from afar.

Elrohir and Elladan spent the time unpacking what blankets or cloaks they had, and lighting a fire to a nice, toasty roar. The Elves handed blankets to one another; they would be required to wrap the rescuers and rescued once the ordeal was through.

Mordecai looked up briefly, noting that the Anoron was in Aragorn's arms. She wasn't already frozen to death… was she? But, no… she moved.

Anoron had given all up for lost as the water had closed over her curly head. She had thrown her arms up, grasping at nothing, but somehow praying she'd be saved anyway. It had worked. There, in the frozen darkness, Anoron had felt the touch of something quickly chilling… a hand.

Quickly grasping the appendage, she felt himself tugged upwards. Instinctively, Anoron gave a mighty kick, unaware that she was more responsible for saving her own life than the owner of the strong hand. Then, the girl felt a second hand; this one was on her arm and tugging insistently.

Anoron gripped back, grabbing her savior's arms and kicking again. She started to slip, and slid her arms up around Aragorn's neck, instinctively trying to save herself, yet dragging her rescuer down further with the weight. Anoron answered by wrapping his arms around Anoron, below her arms and burying his face in her hair. Anoron buried her face in Aragorn's neck, looking for any warmth she could find.

Mordecai now had the ranger by his knees and was slowly dragging him backwards, over the ice encrusted ground. A slick trail, faint but there none-the-less, of blood could be seen on the wet, white-brown surface of the ground. Aragorn seemed unaware of the injury.

Moving slowly, since both had their heads above water, and he didn't want to startle them into losing hold of each other, Mordecai pulled Aragorn back again, his hands clasping around Aragorn's thighs.

Legolas continued laying on Mordecai's back and legs. He wanted to yell at the ranger to rush, couldn't he see the two were near frozen to death with cold? But, Legolas well knew that rushing now might prove their downfall. The ice might crack further or the girl might become more frightened and lose her grip or Aragorn might be pulled against a rock and jostled harder than even the intrepid ranger could take.

By then, Mordecai had pulled Aragorn back with his strength. He pulled Aragorn again, getting to the ranger's waist. Then, reaching past Mordecai with a strong arm, Legolas clasped Anoron's hand in his own large one. He held on, not pulling, but easing some of the burden off of Aragorn's neck. They heard a whimper, but from which one it was uncertain.

Anoron lifted her head from Aragorn's neck at the feel of the warm hand on her arm. She started shivering then, teeth chattering uncontrollably. That decided it. The pair had been in that frozen water far too long as it was. With a mighty heave, Mordecai tugged both rangers from the sucking water, and felt a twinge as he nearly threw Legolas off in his efforts. There was the pain of a pulled muscle, but with all safe, Mordecai barely felt it. Instead, he rolled onto his back and smiled, just a bit, in triumph.

Elladan, Elrohir and the others started hurrying forward, when suddenly Aragorn sat up with a cough. His long dark hair was frozen through and clung to his body like an odd ice sculpture. He leathers were drenched and frosted with white, risking becoming brittle and useless if not tended immediately. His lips were blue-tinged and he shivered as much as Anoron did.

"Quick!…" Aragorn was barely audible, as he looked to Legolas. "Get her into a dry blanket..warm her!..." He coughed. Elladan and Elrohir grasped Aragorn, and lifted him, beginning to hurriedly carry him back to the set up camp, to tend to him as well.