Up there the world was naught but white and gray. The mountains looked down at me as an idle child would an ant. I kept quiet, knowing that I risked a avalanche with each passing moment. The cold air stripped me of comfort and stung me with a sharp, constant pain to my legs and arms. I kept my sword drawn, for I could not see but a few yards in any direction. A torrent of snow and wind impeded my every move. It was the third day I had spent in the Misty Mountains, looking for my kinsmen. I had bidden Rhianonn and Caithrin to take shelter with the elves in Rivendell; their injuries, both of flesh and of the heart, had made the journey more dangerous. It was better to risk myself, in the search for Anadryt and Komatsu, than it was to risk any more lives or injury to my charge and my other kinsmen.
Along the trees in the crag I had made markings upon each tree in order to find my way back to the campsite that the dwarves had settled. I controlled my exhalations as I trudged through the drifts, not wanting to draw too much attention from wandering creatures. It was then, to my delight, that I saw ahead of me a glow of a campfire and the smell of burnt wood. I let a weak cry of excitement escape my mouth through the scarf that protected it from the unceasing wind.
The fire was as the dwarves had left it, still going strong and sheltered behind a natural wall of boulders and trees. A circle of flat stones encompassed a tall fire, fueled by stout logs. Behind the fire, curled and twisted in a woolen and fur cloak, I saw a familiar face. Zandrianna, a minstel friend and kinswoman fought to keep warm, curling into a ball like an infant.
She cried for Anadryt and Komatsu, the latter being her recently wedded. The sight and sound of the scene brought me to tears, though I am hesitant to mention so. I called out to her only to find her asleep and unaware of my arrival. Her body had collected a frosting of snow and ice and I knew that had I not arrived when I did that she would have surely perished alone and in obscurity. I gathered her into my arms and wrapped her body tightly into my woolen blanket and began to stoke the fire for more heat.
She awoke to the smell of a salmon cooking on a spit and her body having been moved further from the fire. At that time I was examining her limbs for frostbite. I fed her, tended to her wounds, and reassured her the best I could. Zandrianna is a beautiful woman, to be sure, but at that moment is I realized that a great strength and determination was behind that beauty. Though I had great admiration for her, I knew that I had another soldier to send back into the valley with the elves.
I would stay there in the mountains in their stead, looking for my fallen and lost. I wondered to myself who would send me back and if they would come at all. And I felt that the onus of grief would fall upon my shoulders.
