Chapter Text
A/N: Alrighty so I thought I'd dip my toe in the fandom raffle again, days before it finishes but... whatev's. I've been working on this the last few days and am most of the way through it. The only reason I chose to partake is because I've been struggling for motivation the last few weeks which has sucked big time >.< Has anyone seen my motivation hanging around their place? I think I might've lost it...
I just need to knuckle down and get on with it, so just ignore my ramblings :P
This is dedicated to Bubbles759, Cybersuzy and Lakritzwolf because they are awesome human beings who I constantly message and chat too and get constant support from, xLilarosa because you are an awesome gal who I love co-writing with (I think we're a dangerous combination but there you go :P ), WerewulfTherewulf because of my whining and SEE!! I did manage to write something despite my self doubts! Yay me! :D
And lastly My_Trex_Has_Fleas because her amazing and constant updates of all things DarkHawk (at the present time) are sometimes the only thing that gets me through a long and motivationless day. Thanks you wonderful human being!!
Enjoy!
As much as it breaks my heart I do not own the writings or the characters of The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings, they are the wonderful and exclusive workings of J.R.R Tolkien
The snowfall that night was one of the heaviest they had ever experienced in Ered Luin.
Blinding white covered the land in a thick layer, the howling wind rattling the windows of the houses in its fury. There was no one around, everyone sheltered in their homes with their fires roaring and a mug of tea nearby to keep them warm.
Being as sheltered as they were none saw a lone lion cub limp its way through the desolate streets, blood matting his fur and a trail of crimson staining the snow behind him. The powder was up to his neck as he fought his way forward, helpless mewls leaving his lips as the deep gashes to his small body stung in the frigid air.
The wounds to his body were numerous; the lone wolf he’d had the misfortune of crossing paths with had been relentless in his attack, and it was only his quick thinking and desperate need for safety that he had managed to get himself up a tree where he stayed until the wolf lost interest. Not wanting to risk further injury from another attack, especially if the wolf had chosen to lie in wait for him, he had moved through the treetops; staggering from branch to branch until he was close enough to the village that the wolf wouldn’t dare follow.
Blood loss coupled with the cold was making it harder to walk, let alone see, but he knew if he didn’t find shelter soon he would undoubtedly freeze to death; homeless, alone and unloved.
The snow fell harder, the wind howled louder, and the little lion cub’s body began shutting down in an effort to protect itself as much as possible.
Just as his sight began to waver, a light nearby caught his attention. He stumbled towards it, paws dragging heavily through the snow as he swayed dangerously, fighting desperately to keep his eyes open long enough to reach the golden glow. Each step felt like it would be his last, that his legs would give out from under him and he would be swallowed up by the blizzard, his weakening spirit snuffed out and forgotten about until spring came around and showed the world just why winter was so cruel to those so defenceless.
Eventually, after much effort and more than one face full of snow when he fell he found himself in front of a stone cottage. The windows along the front wall emitted a soft light from where they had been covered, likely in an effort to keep out the cold, and a steady stream of smoke tumbled from the chimney indicating a roaring fire at its base. But it was the door that had originally caught his attention. It was a sturdy yet simple affair that was protected by a brick and timber awning, the solid structure proving its strength by holding off the heavy layer of snow that balanced precariously on the roof and bracketing the door on either side was a large lantern; the candle flickering away merrily and guiding the house’s occupant’s home with its warm golden glow.
Creeping closer the cub noticed that the snow around the door had recently been disturbed; multiple boot-prints having trampled the snow in different directions. Unfortunately, any scent that might have lingered to indicate whether they were yet to come back to the house or not had been swept away on the wind.
He stood there trembling, unsure of what to do; the need for shelter was strong, but his fear of being discovered and killed in his weakened state was stronger. Just as he tried to turn away his legs gave out from under him. He collapsed heavily into the snow, powder exploding around him before covering his small body in a thin layer. The snow swirled around his head as he lay there, watching helplessly as it slowly began to obscure his vision and he could feel what little energy that remained slowly fade away.
In a last ditch effort for help he mewled, uncaring that he’d be discovered if it meant he wouldn’t die alone, but his weak cry, along with his fragile hope, was swallowed up by the wind.
As the snow steadily buried him the little lion cub closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the eternal darkness that called him home.