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Mountains, Aikanáro thought, had always been more Findaráto and Artanis’ domain. Findaráto because he imagined he would find something more than a couple of rocks on a huge rock and Artanis because she liked to see who could climb the fastest (and obviously she always won).
Aikanáro, on the other hand, preferred horses and plains to cold mountains rising up to Varda and Manwë’s sky. Perhaps a few hills could be acceptable, but really, they were not a must.
All this he dwelled on as he clumsily tried to make his way on the very slippery and narrow stone path, while having the steep mountainside to his right. He could see the small lakes down there as they glimmered in Laurelin’s light. If he concentrated, he could also hear his and his siblings’ horses somewhere behind him but much further down, as they grazed and probably enjoyed their time immensely.
Aikanáro quite wished he was a horse, at the moment.
“Ango, how far away are Artanis and Findaráto?” he shouted, assuming his brother would hear him.
They needed to bond as siblings, their mother had said.
‘You always spend time in pairs; you need to spend time as siblings - as siblings of four!’ she had said and when Aikanáro and Angaráto had complained loudly, she added: ‘stop making a fuss - my father took me and my brothers out on a small boat and then left, saying we had to make our way back together or else we wouldn’t come back at all!’
Aikanáro really wished he had complained or protested more when Findaráto had suggested they go climbing - ‘I and Turukáno saw this mountain last we went north, but he refused to go with me, saying he would rather deal with cousin Curufinwë than climb it, but it really was perfect for it!’ -, or at least tried to reason with their parents, pointing out how cousin Turukáno often was the sensible one in that family and really, they should trust him.
But Findaráto had used a bit more fancy words about how wonderful it was and Artanis had liked the idea of climbing and the next day Eärwen and Arafinwë had whisked all their four children off to the north, to a mountain, to “bond”.
Aikanáro wondered if cousin Findekáno had bought that horse he had seen last time on the market in Tirion and if he had gone out to try and race it yet, when Angaráto answered somewhere above him where he could not see him.
“Very far. I think we are going to reach them first when they’ve stopped to sleep, if you’re going to continue being so slow.”
Aikanáro considered saying something rude, with a few swearwords in it, but decided against it and just tried to walk as safely and slowly as possible on the path without falling or losing his grip.
“How is this bonding?” he asked his brother, knowing he would hear him. “They are up there and probably discussing, I don’t know, the wonderful landscape, while we’re here and trying not to fall. It’s like at home again - them there and we here and us not talking to each other.”
Despite Artanis’ young age, she was closer to Findaráto, the oldest, than to any of her other brothers. Findaráto, too, spent more time with her than either Aikanáro or Angaráto. It was not because of some disagreement or alike; it just happened. While Aikanáro did not mind discussing the intricate design of Telerin fountains or Findaráto riding and racing with their cousins and trading jokes in larger companies, they only did it with other people than the siblings who had these interests. Aikanáro and Angaráto were not inseparable, but if they were to spend a few days together in the wild with someone, it would be with each other. The same went for Findaráto and Artanis, though they did not spend as much time together as Aikanáro and Angaráto. Eärwen sometimes joked that she had a pair of twins, like Nerdanel, just with a few years apart. Uncle Fëanáro seldom liked the joke, though his wife thankfully had more humour.
He heard Angaráto sigh above him.
“Just climb on, brother. I don’t want their fire to be cold when we reach them.”
Aikanáro thought about suggesting they build their own fire for the night so they did not have rush up the mountainside, but then he heard his brother climb on and soon he was out of earshot.
He sighed, realising he was alone and would probably make it to the fire last.
He continued climbing, in his usual, careful and slow way. It was tiresome and now and then he let out a curse under his breath, speaking ill of his stupid siblings who should get more easy - and less life-threatening - interests, and Findekáno for not saving him from this by inviting him in to his journey and Turukáno for not going with his brother in the first place and also his mother for having such stupid and irritating ideas such as ‘sibling bonding’.
He guessed he should have blamed his grandfather Olwë for that idea, though. He was the one who started it, after all.
After a while, when Laurelin’s light had faded more and more and soon the Mingling would start, he reached a small waterfall which ran down a less steep part of the mountain. It left a small pool and flat surface before him and he stopped to rest. At this rate, he had given up on trying to reach his siblings before they started cooking the food.
The pool was still and calm compared to the little fall which rushed across wet stone and left the air damp and a little chilly. He thought it could not hurt and cupped his hands in it to drink - it was more than big enough for his hands - when he saw -
A woman. A woman in the water, like a reflection. He stopped and did not dare to move. The sound of the waterfall fell away and he felt like it was all silence around him.
How - ?
He could see shining lights above her head, like stars, but in a sky much darker than he had ever seen, and her face …
She looked strange in an unexplainable way, not like any Quendi, no, but he could not say how. Her dark, long hair fell down in small waves around her face, which was - not dark, specifically, but more brown than what any fair-skinned Quendi would be. She looked away from him, her eyes distant and he thought he could see small, brown dots over her nose. Freckles?
He stared and then she moved and her eyes met his and a wave of nausea and light and strangeness overtook him. They were grey and kind and looked at him so softly it stung his heart. Did she look sad? Or was it happiness? Her face looked rough, although she seemed to be young and Aikanáro felt an immense fondness for her well up, for if she could still look at him with such warm affection ... He felt like reaching out a hand to touch her cheek, just to feel -
He sucked in a breath without thinking and suddenly she was gone, right before his very eyes. The only thing he saw was the dark water which made his hands cold.
He did not move for many moments, feeling his hands growing stiff, but he could not shake off the feeling of something - he did not know what it was. It lay like a heavy stone in his stomach, leaving him uneasy but strangely happy and sad at the same time.
Eventually, he dropped down and drank the fresh water and rose to leave and continue climbing, but not before casting one last glance down into the dark water, wishing to see her face again and her grey eyes, but nothing was there except the shadows of the small stones at the bottom. He left with an icy sadness in his heart.
When his siblings finally saw him climbing over the edge to their small campfire they simultaneously complained about how long time he had taken.
“We’ll need at least two more days if we all are to reach the top”, Artanis said and Angaráto nodded.
“We’ll miss when cousin Maitimo comes home and Findekáno will already have left with him when we’re back.”
“Well, if you had decided to choose something more fun to do than climb a mountain, we could all have enjoyed it and made it home in time for our own, more preferable, activities”, Aikanáro snapped and Findaráto, looking a little guilty over the fact that he had suggested the mountain when he knew his little brother had a small fear of heights and sharp rocks, gave him a skewer with grilled meat and vegetables, apologetic smile and said:
“Next time we can go riding and you can take us to that forest and glade you and Ango discovered and loved so much.”
Aikanáro considered telling his brother that place he and Ango preferred to keep between themselves, only having told the family of it because they had wondered why they had been gone so long, but decided to just take the skewer. He saw Angaráto thinking of the same thing, though, but he also stayed quiet.
“What was this mountain called again, Findaráto?” he instead asked.
His brother looked a little surprised but gave the name and Aikanáro told himself to remember it, and then tried to eat the meat without smearing it all over his face. His brother and sister’s loud remarks told him of his failure throughout the evening, as Telperion’s light peacefully stroke over the mountainside.
Laughter and singing could eventually be heard from their little campfire and it lasted well into the night, dispelling the cold and strangeness and only leaving warmth.