Misty Mountains Tall by StarSpray

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One

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TA 130
Early Summer

Oh, just talk to it, Eluréd, Elurín had said. Oh, it will be fine, Elurín had insisted, while he chose to stay with his feet firmly on solid ground, helping the Dwarves ensure the cave they had found for shelter was free from orcs or other nasty creatures. Well, when all this was over, assuming Eluréd was not accidentally dashed against the mountainside, he was going to string Elurín up by an ankle for a while and see how he liked it.

It was very difficult to have a conversation with a rock giant of the Misty Mountains even under the best of circumstances, but this one was smaller—and evidently younger—than the ones Eluréd usually saw (at a safe distance), and was as fascinated by Eluréd as a small child might be with a strange insect. Dangling from the giant's fist by one leg and with all the blood in his body seeming to pool in his head and face—not to mention the pain of the giant's grip—Eluréd was finding it difficult not to think about what usually happened to strange insects in the hands of clumsy children, no matter how well meaning they were.

The giant had a craggy face, with dark holes for eyes that were surprisingly expressive, as it twisted Eluréd around a bit, examining him from nearly every possible angle. Eluréd tried to keep his gaze skyward, rather than allowing himself to look down, past his dangling hair, to the ground that was entirely too far away for comfort. "Please put me down!" Eluréd called to it, not for the first time. "It's very difficult to have a conversation when one is dangling upside down!"

To his surprise, the giant cocked its head as though it had heard him that time, and then to his surprise and alarm, it let him go. Eluréd made a very embarrassing and loud noise as he started to fall, but was caught almost immediately by the giant's other hand. It still hurt, the giant being made of the stuff of the bones of the earth, but it was better than the alternative. Eluréd lay very still on the rough stone palm as the giant raised him up again, tilting its head the other direction. "Thank you," he managed to say once he'd caught his breath. He sat up carefully, wincing as bruises began to make themselves known—and more than bruises. His ankle hurt alarmingly, and he suspected at least one rib had cracked when he landed on the giant's palm. The rock giant said something in its rumbling, stones-on-stones language. Eluréd knew just enough of it to get by, by long experience wandering these parts of the Misty Mountains, but it usually wasn't heard up close, and he had to wait for his teeth to stop chattering to parse it. The giant wanted to know what all the shouting had been down on the mountainside earlier that day, and why Eluréd had climbed up on some rocks to wave and yell at him.

"Begging your pardon, good giant," he said, getting to his knees and ignoring his ankle, "but you see your boulder collection there?" He pointed to a neat row of boulders the size of wains sitting on the mountainside. "Lovely as those rocks are, I'm afraid that isn't a convenient shelf, it's a road." The giant said something else, probably inquiring what a road was. "You must have seen small folk like me passing to and fro along it," Eluréd went on, "and if you would be so kind as to move your collection to some other rock shelf, we would be much obliged." He paused, feeling as though he ought to offer something in return, only he could not think of anything he and Elurín or the Dwarves had that would interest a rock giant.

The giant, however, did not pause to try to barter and instead immediately reached out its other hand toward the road. Eluréd peered down to see Elurín duck back around the bend as the hand descended. The giant picked up one boulder…and then turned and began to walk away. "Excuse me!" Eluréd shouted. "Wait! Put me down, please!" He had to cling to the giant's thumb to keep from falling off of its palm, and when he looked back toward the road he saw Elurín just as the dwarves got a hold of him, keeping him from throwing himself down the mountainside in pursuit. He could just barely hear him screaming before the giant stepped out of earshot. Another handful of steps took him out of sight behind another ridge.

Eluréd had never explored this part of the Misty Mountains before. It was difficult to identify helpful landmarks from so high up, and while clinging to the giant's palm to keep from being jostled or dropped. Panic threatened to crowd out everything else, and by the time the giant halted again Eluréd was too focused on just breathing to notice immediately. Then the giant lifted its hand and deposited Eluréd onto a small shelf of rock, with an overhang, and a few remnants that looked like they had once belonged to a large bird's nest. Eluréd rolled off of the giant's hand and bit his lip until it bled to keep from crying out as his ankle was jostled. Before he could do or say anything, the giant had departed, moving down the mountain slope a little ways to…eat the boulder, as though it were an apple. Eluréd watched, fascinated in spite of himself, for several minutes.

Then the wind picked up, and he pulled himself back beneath the rocky overhang. Once under relative shelter, he tugged his boot off of his swelling ankle with painful difficulty so that he could take a better look at the damage. He did not believe it was broken, but it was badly sprained. One of his ribs was also definitely cracked. There was little Eluréd could do about either, though, or about the endless bruises, sitting there so high up in the mountains that he shivered in the sharp wind, which smelled of snow even now while it was summer far below in the rest of the world. He pulled his cloak about him and settled back against the stones and tried to think.

It was getting late. His perch faced west, and he could see the lands stretching out from the Misty Mountains and the sun sinking down toward the horizon, edging clouds with gold, and the clouds themselves casting long shadows toward the east. In the mountains themselves clouds were starting to gather—he could see them shrouding nearby peaks, and knew it would not be long before his own was hidden from view as well. That would add damp to the cold, making for a miserable night.

Eluréd crawled back to the edge of his little shelf and peered down again—this time at the sheer slope directly beneath him. He could pick out, he thought, a way down, but with his ankle injured there was no way he could make it without a rope—which he did not have, since he had not thought that simply talking to a stone giant would require it. He did not have any of his usual things, having left his pack with Elurín, lest it get crushed. All that remained to him was his knife, his water skin, his cloak, a few bits and bobs in his packets (including flint and steel), and two pieces of lembas from the batch that the Queen of the Greenwood had given them when they left Thranduil's halls. That was lucky, but would be ultimately useless unless he could find a way to get down.

As the mists began to gather, Eluréd squinted down at the stone giant. It had been joined by another, and they were engaged in some kind of…argument? Or merely an enthusiastic conversation? There was a great deal of gesturing, and their voices were like the rumble of an avalanche. Eluréd retreated from the edge lest they look up and remember that he was there. He suspected that the giant that had taken him really was like a child with an interesting insect, and that he would be as forgotten as such an insect as soon as something else came along to catch the giant's attention. Hopefully it already had.

The night was a miserable one. Eluréd had no fuel for a fire, and allowed himself only a few small sips of his water throughout the night, and one mouthful of lembas. His whole body throbbed, and no matter how he turned it felt as though a sharp stone was digging into his back. He managed to doze for a little while after the sun came up and warmed the air a little, but no more than that. And when he looked down the mountain again, the rock giant was nowhere to be seen.

It reappeared few hours later, coming up to peer at Eluréd. Eluréd scrambled backward, cursing as he jostled his ankle, and then yelped when the giant dropped a handful of debris onto the ledge. It retreated a little but still looked at Eluréd with interest and something like expectation. Eluréd stared at it, and then at the pile of stuff before him. Sticks, mostly, and not a few stones—tiny ones, for a giant. Did it think that he ate them, like the giants did? "Um," he said. "Thank you?" The giant seemed to smile and it said something that Eluréd did not catch, before disappearing away down the mountainside, jumping from ledge to ledge to slope with enviable ease.

Eluréd sorted through the sticks and stones. He found one that would make a decent walking stick, if ever he got to a place where he could use it. He found a few others that he could use to make a splint, just in case his ankle was hurt worse than he thought. And the rest were dry enough that they would make a fire that night. The rocks were all more or less the size of his head, and utterly useless, unless he had a need to drop them on someone's head. Eluréd amused himself for a little while in sorting the rocks by size and color, and lining them up around his little shelf, but it was not enough of a distraction to keep his thoughts from circling around the hopelessness of his situation. Alone and injured, he had no way to get down, and he had been taken so far from all the roads in and out of the mountains that he could not hope for rescue, not even from Elurín. Where would he even begin to look? It would take days to reach this far—longer, since he would have to search as he went, and with no help unless the dwarves came with him, which Eluréd knew better than to expect. Even if they felt an obligation, since Eluréd had been trying to get the giant to clear the road for their carts, they had little ones with them. The best he could hope for was for Elurín to go on to Imladris and get help there. Perhaps Elrond had some way of seeing from afar, or perhaps Celebrían did—Eluréd had heard tales of Galadriel's mirror, and other arts she had learned from Melian.

It was very difficult not to indulge in at least a few minutes of bitter thoughts, of all the things he could have learned in Doriath if it had not been destroyed—things that might have been of use to him now, or that might have allowed him to avoid this trouble altogether. "Stop it," Eluréd said aloud. "Don't be foolish." What was done was done and all he could do was go forward with what he had—which was precious little, and that was more than enough to be bitter about without dredging up old memories. "When Elurín finds me," Eluréd added to the stones around him, "I might just drop one of you on his head. It was his idea to talk to the giant, and see what's come of it!" He ripped a few strips of cloth from the edge of his tunic and bound his ankle up in a splint. He could walk on it, if he was careful and went slow, but it still hurt. "It's too bad the giant didn't find anything I might use for a rope," he muttered.

The day passed in agonizing boredom and chill and hunger. The lembas alleviated the latter, but it did nothing for thirst, and Eluréd was halfway to wishing for rain so he could refill his water skin by the time the evening mists rolled in, though less densely than the night before. He sighed and glanced skyward as twilight descended. Gil-Estel gleamed. "I suppose it would be too much to ask that you don't tell Elwing about this," Eluréd said to the star. "Assuming you can even see us down here. I do hope your ship is more comfortable than my mountain." It was probably only his fancy that the star seemed to wink at him before he looked away.

Just before the light faded entirely, Eluréd built a fire. Not only was the warmth a welcome comfort, the light would be a signal to anyone looking for him, if they had gotten close enough to see this particular peak. He rolled himself up in his cloak and resisted the urge to feed the fire when it started to die. He would need the wood for other nights if the giant did not bring more.

The next day passed much as the one before it, only the giant did not reappear. Eluréd was not sure whether this was good sign or not. That evening he built another fire, and when he dozed off he dreamed of Elurín, who was clambering over stones in the dark, in pursuit of something or fleeing from something—in the manner of dreams, it was hard to tell, only that his brother was distressed, and there was naught Eluréd could do to ease it.

The day after that, the giant returned, and seemed distressed to find that Eluréd had not eaten any of the rocks it had brought. Then it plucked him up and took him away from the shelf, down the mountains into a valley, and up another ridge. They passed other giants, standing still as statues, or digging in the deep gorges, or climbing the tallest peaks. When the giant stopped to talk to others, he always held up Eluréd like he was showing off a pretty new bauble. Every time Eluréd braced himself, expecting a bigger giant to pick him up and accidentally crush him—he did not fear that they would hurt him on purpose, as they seemed fairly peaceful, at least when the weather was fine—but none ever did. By the time he was returned to his little shelf, Eluréd was windblown and newly bruised, and even his small fire that night could not warm him. The pattern repeated over the next few days, with the giant occasionally bringing new sticks and different kinds of stones, as though it was the flavor of rock that Eluréd objected to eating.

When left alone he tried to stand up, but his ankle no longer wanted to hold any of his weight, even with the splint. Even taking only a small bite a day, his lembas was starting to run out. His water, too, was down to just a mouthful, and there was no hope of refilling it. His mouth was too dry to speak anymore, let alone to sing strength into his legs or warmth back into his bones. Every time he tried to start a fire, after a while, his hands shook too much to make the sparks.

Where was Elurín?

He woke one chilly morning to a large amber-colored eye staring down unblinking at him. Eluréd yelled hoarsely and cursed and scrambled for a handy rock before he woke up enough to realize that the eye belonged to an eagle, and that it was, as a general rule, not a good idea to throw things at the eagles who lived in the mountains. The tales said they were descended from the eagles that had roamed the skies of ancient days, who had rescued Maedhros and Fingon from the walls of Thangorodrim, and who had carried the body of Fingolfin from Angband's gates, and aided Beren and Lúthien after they retrieved the Silmaril. Eluréd did not know if those tales were true, but even so—the eagle before him had wicked looking talons, big as daggers, and a beak to match. Eluréd released his rock, caught his breath, and sat up, bowing his head, though he feared any dignity he might have had was entirely lost. "Greetings," he said, and winced at the way his voice cracked in his dry throat. He did not even recall how to address an eagle properly even when one wasn't half starved on a mountain top.

"Greetings, Lúthien's child," said the eagle. It retreated just a step, clinging to the very edge of the shelf with its talons as it continued to peer at Eluréd, first with one large eye and then the other. "This is not a fair eyrie for any creature, but certainly not for an elf."

"I am not here by my own choice," Eluréd said. "There was a rock giant—" He broke off when the giant itself reappeared, hoisting itself up to peer onto the shelf. The eagle rose up and flapped its wings, blowing all of the small bits of dirt and debris on the shelf into Eluréd's face, and screeching loud enough to make his ears ring, and to send the giant away, though it grumbled like the earth quaking, and shook its fist at the eagle before it disappeared beyond a ridge.

"It is a young giant, and thinks it has found a strange small creature to take as a pet," said the eagle, turning back to Eluréd. "I will take you to your brother," it went on, "for he is seeking for you not far from here, though it would be many days before he discovered this place, if ever he did." Eluréd could not suppress a shudder.

The eagle was surprisingly patient as Eluréd struggled to his feet and then somehow climbed onto its back. He had none of his usual grace, and it was all he could do to cling to its feathers when it leaped into the air, soaring up and then, very slowly, in wide circles, descending again into a deep valley beyond the southern ridges of the stone giant's mountain. There was a thick wood of pine, and through the bottom of the valley ran a small clear river that sparkled in the bright sunshine. Eluréd had only a glimpse of it; he felt very cold still, and dizzy.

At last, the eagle alighted, just up the slope from the forest. It perched on a large boulder, and then jumped down to somewhat more even ground. Eluréd worked his cramped fists open slowly as the eagle waited with surprising patience. It crouched to let him slid off of its back with relative ease, though he hit the ground and immediately stumbled and fell, pain shooting up the whole length of his leg from his bad ankle. As he struggled not to faint with stars bursting before his eyes, there was movement in the trees, and then Elurín appeared, dirty and sweaty and ashen pale beneath it all. "Eluréd!" he cried, and sped up the slope to fall to his knees beside Eluréd to pull him into his arms.

"Ow," Eluréd croaked into his shoulder.

"Are you hurt?" Elurín pulled back immediately. "What happened? Where did the giant take you? What—" He stopped, at last noticing the eagle. Immediately he rose and bowed. "Master Eagle, please forgive me. Thank you for returning my brother to me. We are in your debt."

The eagle made a strange half-screeching sound that Eluréd realized only later might have been laughter. "Yes," it said, "and someday perhaps I will call it in. Until then, Lúthien's children, farewell, wherever you fare, until your eyrie's receive you at the journey's end!"

Elurín bowed low. "May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks," he said. In a rush of wings, the eagle departed, and Elurín sat down beside Eluréd again. "Are you hurt?" he asked again. "No, don't answer. You look horrible. Here." He held out his own water skin, freshly filled and still wet from the river. Eluréd took a few sips; it was very cold. "Where were you?" Elurín asked.

"Up the mountains, somewhere there," Eluréd gestured in the general direction. "The giant—you remember when we brought that badger kit home to Nellas when we were children?"

"She made us take it back," Elurín said. "You mean the giant wanted to keep you like we wanted to keep the badger kit? I've never heard of such a thing!"

"I don't think the other giants have, either." Eluréd allowed Elurín to wrap his arms around him again, and sighed as he leaned into his brother's shoulder. Elurín was quite warm, as was the sunshine, though Eluréd still felt chilled. After a few minutes he said, "Can you look at my ankle?"

"Yes, of course." Elurín immediately moved to take a look at it, prodding the swollen joint with gentle fingers, and humming a song beneath his breath that they had learned from Daeron when last they visited Lórinand. "I don't think it is broken," he said at last, "but you shouldn't be walking on it. We'll make camp by the river, down in the trees—easier to hide from stone giants that have lost their badger kits." He looked up at Eluréd, with no trace of humor on his face. "Eluréd, I am sorry. I should not have made you talk to the giant."

Eluréd shook his head. "Neither of us expect it to pick me up and carry me off," he said.

"Speaking of carrying, can you stand up?"

Eluréd could stand, with help and with a great deal of effort. It was a relief to make it down to the river bank where Elurín settled him in a patch of sunshine by the water and went about setting up camp, including building a proper fire. Between that and the summer sunshine, and his brother's steady presence, Eluréd warmed quickly, and soon fell asleep to the sound of flowing water and crackling flames.