Legolas looked out the window. It had snowed another two feet overnight. For the fifth day in a row he was snowed in. Trapped at an inn in the middle of nowhere.

“Come away from the window laddie,” Gimli called from the bar where he was already drinking a pint.

“I had hoped to be in Minas Tirith by now,” Legolas said. “I promised Eldarion I would be there in time for his birthday.”

“He will understand why you aren’t going to make it to Minas Tirith in time.”

“I know,” Legolas sighed, walking over to sit next to Gimli.