The wind whispered its findings to the elf that commanded it. It spoke of the unevenness of the soil, of moans and shouts detected in the night, and of orcs still hiding. There were signs of underground caverns and hollow hidden chambers. Out of earshot of detection of all others, Vilya's bearer processed the flood of information that the zephyr imparted. Elrond abruptly turned from his survey of Sauron's stronghold, startling Glorfindel, who had remained steadfastly next to him for the last hour.
"Find Thranduil and summon healers." He ordered.
"I will pass that order on to Erestor." Glorfindel motioned for the guards to draw near. Erestor was standing with them. "My place is by your side." Elrond eyes lit with unspoken gratitude at Glorfindel's declaration.
"We need several teams to search two areas. Gather, nearly fifty for each team. Bring shovels and axes." Elrond commanded. "Erestor, find Thranduil and bring healers." Elrond led them down behind the ruins of the black gates. The large tower of Barad-dur had been demolished yesterday in an extraordinary feat of elven will power. Isildur and his troops were noticeably absent from this effort. Rumors were spreading that the Gondorians would abandon their camps shortly.
Unfortunately, all their efforts to search the tower for prisoners had been fruitless. Elrond knew that they had little time to find any elves that were trapped in the dungeons on the site. They skirted passed small buildings and around pits. Elrond halted momentarily and stood in silence. Celeborn had unexpectedly joined them with a third contingent of elves.
"Elrond, what is it that you seek?" The ancient Lord inquired. Anguished silver eyes stared dumbly back, not immediately recognizing the silver Lord.
"He has suffered grave wounds to his fea." Celeborn recognized immediately."What caused this?" He wondered and resolved to escort the peredhel to Lothlórien for healing. Elrond's expression hardened as he drew back from the place in his thoughts.
"There may be some of our kin alive here. I think there is an opening on the left edge of this pit. Please have our scouts carefully check the area." Elrond squinted, although it was cloudy and overcast. "There may yet be orcs down there. Be watchful."
"Where are you going?" Celeborn questioned.
"There are several other spots that may potentially conceal prisoners. I would lead other groups to scout these locations." Elrond said.
"How?" Celeborn asked. But Elrond shook his head and left the question unanswered. The scouts immediately followed Celeborn towards the indicated area. Indeed upon closer inspection, a number of stories were legible. Written in the dirt were the deep boot prints of orcs and the dragging tracks of prisoners. From the depth and size, Celeborn concluded that this site had housed mostly men. There were few light tracks that pointed to elves.
Elrond continued to an outcrop of low buildings. He gave orders to Cirulian to take his patrol and carefully search this site.
"Treat all enclosures cautiously, as if they could be sequestering orcs as well as captives." Elrond directed not wishing to risk any more lives. They had already lost far too many. Then he led his group to an area seemingly beyond the complex. Glorfindel followed closely, his keen eyes scanning for any movement or signs of danger. He knew that Elrond was listening to the wind for clues to the captives' locations and might be too distracted to detect enemy movements.
"Look for a door or some kind of entrance way." Elrond commanded. The scouts scoured the ground for clues. Elrond's face paled.
"What is it?" Glorfindel hissed.
"There are many here. They have suffered much." Elrond whispered. One of the scouts signaled that they had found an entrance. It was more like a set of double doors to a basement.
"Expect orcs behind there." Elrond cautioned. They set up in a line, bowman ready and then two scouts threw open the door. Ten orcs emerged, their swords swung wildly. But the elves efficiently dispatched these enemies with bows and swords.
"Search the bodies. See if you find keys." Elrond directed gruffly before turning and plunging ahead into the dungeons, much to Glorfindel's chagrin. The stubborn peredhel was not an easy charge to protect.
The putrid smells of death and suffering permeated the dank underground. They tried to breath through their mouths to ward off the nauseating scents. Sensitive elven ears picked up low moans from those trapped, and they easily followed the sounds to find a long row of locked cells. Those who freed the captives would ever be haunted by the horrors within the cells. They moved first to locate any captives that still lived. The retrieval of the dead could wait until all the living had been recovered. But all vowed that none of their kind would be left within that horrific place.
They carried the elves out into the sunlight, as few were capable of walking. Most had their heads shaved, a humiliating act for an elf as their culture savored beauty and held long hair as the ideal. The emaciated bruised frames of these elves were difficult to look at. Few that were conscious could even speak, making identification nearly impossible. But their coloring and remnants of their clothing spoke of Sindar influences.
"Many hail from the woodland realm. Summon Thranduil." Elrond directed. He was already busy assessing their wounds. "Bring as many healers as can be spared."
Erestor was the only Noldo with whom Thranduil would speak civilly. The Sinda blamed the Noldor for inducing his father's rash actions. The ill-fated Sindar advance led by Oropher claimed the lives of a huge number of the woodland warriors. The memories of rushing to the Sindar's aid still haunted Erestor. He saw the anguish in Thranduil's eyes as the prince searched the field for his father and found Elrond bending over the Woodland King.
"I am sorry, Thranduil. There was nothing I could do." Elrond whispered. His hands were covered with Oropher's blood. The field of death that surrounded them was macabre battle scene.
"Get away from him half-breed Noldo!" Thranduil raged barely holding in check his desire to strike the peredhel. "You Noldor are a curse to all you touch."
Erestor shook the haunting memories from his mind and focused on the present. It was imperative to locate the Woodland King. Thranduil sat with his advisors planning their return to Greenwood.
"Thranduil!" Erestor called. "Come quickly, they have located survivors." Thranduil bristled at the order. But Erestor was not to be dissuaded.
"There appear to be survivors from the woodland realm." Erestor reported. At that Thranduil and the others jumped up. In a whirl of orders, Erestor found himself surrounded by a woodland contingent. They hurried back passed the ruins of Barad-dur, following the steady stream of elves transporting the injured in litters. Celeborn directed them towards Elrond's group. Many healers were busy treating the newly freed elves. Erestor's keen eyes scanned the group, looking for Elrond's telltale hair and flashing silver eyes. Finally, he spied the Lord bending over a gaunt figure with a fuzzy mustard-colored scalp. He motioned to Thranduil and they hurried over to the peredhel. Elrond's eyes were closed in concentration. Neither Thranduil nor Erestor could mistake the flow of power that radiated from the peredhel.
"I never witnessed Elrond using his healing powers on another elf, although I have felt the warmth of his gift when he healed me long ago during the War of Wrath." Thranduil whispered. They both could feel the song of the injured elf grow stronger and Thranduil gasped in recognition and sank to his knees next to the prostrated figure. He grasped the bony hand in his own and whispered a name. "Orodiun."
Erestor held back his own gasped as he also kneeled next to his brother-in-law. Orodiun was his sister Calimdriel's husband. They had all mourned his lost two years ago when Thranduil's beloved brother did not return from a scouting mission. Both elves glanced rapidly back and forth between Elrond, who eyes were yet closed, and Orodiun. The injured elf was nearly aglow with healing energy and Elrond's features turned ashen as his breathing slowed. It was said that a few true healers were able to touch the souls of their patients. Such healer took some of their patient's suffering upon themselves in order to relieve their overburdened bodies and reawaken the patient's natural healing abilities. As Thranduil watched the peredhel, he now believed these old tales. They were startled from their musings by Noenri's approach. The elder healer bent down and laid his hands on Orodiun's head to assess the elf's spirit. Many minutes passed in silence as Noenri waited for Orodiun's spirit to mend enough for the elf to survive on his own. Then the healer moved to Elrond. Laying his hands on Elrond's shoulder, he called the elf back.
"Elrond, return to us!" Noenri commanded loudly. They watched the golden glow dissipate and Elrond slump back into Noenri's arms. Thranduil could read the alarm in the healer's eyes.
"Elrond, it is dangerous to attempt such healing when your spirit is so injured." The High King's senior healer chided quietly. Then he added more loudly. "Lord Elrond, I relieve you from your duties. Return to your tent, I will attend you shortly." Glorfindel heard the healer's proclamation and quickly came to Elrond's side.
"Glorfindel, escort Elrond back to his tent." Noenri ordered. Elrond gave Orodiun's still unconscious figure one more anguished look before turning to follow Glorfindel. Cirulian, another longtime friend, appeared on Elrond's other side. One look at the Herald's eyes made Cirulian hesitant to discuss what his patrol had found. He would report it to Lord Celeborn.
"Elrond!" Thranduil's hand settled lightly on his shoulder, halting him. The peredhel startled slightly at the contact. He turned to face the woodland King.
"Thank you for aiding Orodiun." Thranduil said in earnest. He wished he could take back the words said in anger years ago. He could see the choking depth of suffering in the gray eyes.
"I pledged long ago to ever be at your families' service." Elrond bowed his head slightly.
They had not yet reached the camps when a small group of men approached. It was Isildur surrounded by his father's elite guard. The prince stared at Elrond in shock and surprise. He had obviously thought the elf dead. Glorfindel felt Elrond's grip upon his arm tighten but that was the only thing that betrayed the elf's tension. Lord Celeborn had recognized the prince from a distance and was swift to bring his own guards to intercept them.
"Prince Isildur" Elrond managed to keep his voice steady. "What brings you here?"
"We heard word that you freed many prisoners. Were any of my people among them?" The Prince answered as his eyes roamed Elrond's person with a malevolence and lust that made even Glorfindel shiver. The One ring dangled from a heavy golden chain draped around prince's neck. Its wicked voice called out to the Herald.
"Strike him down and claim me." The ring whispered in Elrond's mind. "You have just cause. Do you not wish to defend your honor?" The ring fed scenes of their encounter on the mountain into his mind. Elrond felt his chest squeeze with pain. It radiated upward to his shoulders, neck, and jaw. No, he could not relive such a thing. He tried desperately to push the images from his mind. In that moment, he realized that the events that took place on the mountain were the ring's designs. It chose Isildur as a carrier for now but would not be content to remain within the prince's possession. The ring's tactic suddenly changed.
"You are a prince of many kingdoms. Do you not wish to be King?" It whispered seductively in the mistaken belief that Elrond would covet the crown, which ironically was the last thing that the elf desired. "You could bring the kindreds together and enlighten them. They would see that they are all equal. They are all equally below you in stature. You are more deserving of a crown than this human prince. I could anoint you King like your brother."
Celeborn momentarily broke the spell of the ring by answering Isildur's question.
"Our scouts freed many prisoners, there are some men among them. Come, I will accompany you there." The Silver Lord said in a commanding tone. The intensity of Isildur's gaze on their Herald was disturbing. Celeborn wondered if this man had contributed to Elrond's injuries.
"Are my wife and the crown prince still safe in your Valley?" The Prince glared at Elrond, ignoring Lord Celeborn's information.
"We established Imladris as a haven for all. Our allies in the fight against this darkness are always welcome there." Elrond kept his gaze and voice even, though the pain in his chest and jaw had not abated. Now his skin felt clammy as well.
"And am I, the King of Gondor and Arnor, also welcome there?" Isildur leered. Elrond's hand tightened yet further around Glorfindel's arm.
"Kill him!" The ring hissed in Elrond's head.
"No be gone you incarnate of Sauron. I am not persuaded by your lies." His mind cried silently, not heeding the ring's seductive promises.
"You are welcome in our Valley but leave your evil trinket behind." Elrond managed to say clearly.
"Then you will die son of Eärendil." The ring laughed and poured vile images into Elrond's mind. "Shall Isildur use you again? Shall the Herald of the weak High King turn to dust like all the members of your house?" Elrond felt the evil reach out for him. It slowly tightened around his heart. Each beat, each breath became a struggle. It projected images of Isildur's ring fueled desires. Elrond rubbed his hand over the spot where pain stabbed through his chest and tried to hold back the urge to vomit. He wondered if an elf's heart, like a man's might just refuse to beat under such circumstances.
"Come, my Lord." Glorfindel interrupted; troubled by the painful effects Isildur's presence was inflicting on his friend. "We have much to discuss." Cirulian stepped in between Elrond and the human prince, effectively blocking him from Elrond's vision.
"Prince Isildur." Lord Celeborn repeated. "Surely, you want to check on your people."
Glorfindel and Cirulian led their Lord quickly away. Elrond's vision narrowed until he could only see directly in front of him. The noble elven Lord offered nothing in response to his friend's questions as they hurried back to the pavilion.
"Elrond!" Glorfindel called for the fifth time. He felt a brief surge of relief when it seemed that Elrond showed an awareness of his surroundings. But the relief was short-lived as the peredhel frantically reached for a bucket and vomited. Glorfindel held him as the episode subsided into dry heaves and the elf slumped glassy-eyed into his arms. The Golden Warrior ran his hands frantically over the elf in his arms, trying in vain to understand the cause of his injuries. He could recognize Elrond's irregular heartbeat. Moments passed as it skipped one, two, three beats and then caught up. He could feel the tension radiating outwards from his friend's chest.
"Elrond, what is wrong? How can I help you?" Glorfindel whispered frantically.
"If I were a man, I would say that I am suffering a heart attack." Elrond smiled weakly, his eyes glassy.
"Elrond, tell me that you remove Vilya from your finger!" Glorfindel entreated now that they were alone.
"Yes" he acknowledged in a hoarse whisper. "It is in my tunic pocket. Lock it safely away before …." But the rest of the order was swallowed up by a low moan, which escaped Elrond's lips. Glorfindel retrieved the velvet pouch as requested and Elrond dropped the exquisite ring in. Mere moments later Glorfindel had locked it safely away and returned. The reborn warrior still trembled slightly from the proximity to Celebrimbor's folly.
"I know not how you can bear it." Glorfindel whispered, trying to keep Elrond awake until the healers arrived. He was aware of its powers as well as the dangers associated with it.
"We could not have recovered our missing warriors without its aid." Elrond admitted breathily, trembling slightly. "I will only wield it sparingly for our people's benefit, as Ereinion bade me to."
The conversation was interrupted by a rustling outside and moments later Noenri hurried to Elrond's side with Cirulian in tow. Elrond's flushed and pained features immediately concerned him. He noted the smell of vomit that hung in the air.
"Well, young one, it has been long again since I treated any injury of yours. Not since your elflinghood more than two thousand years ago." The healer teased in his comforting voice. Elrond's jaw seized from the pain, preventing his response. The peredhel's hands were clenched tightly over his chest. The healer immediately began to assess Elrond's injuries. Minutes later, Elrond's eyes rolled back as he fell unconscious.
"Why does he struggle to breathe? Each heartbeat seems a battle?" Noenri mused aloud then turned and demanded. "How did the black breath take such a strong hold? Did Elrond face Sauron on the battlefield? Did he suffer a morgul wound? What happened in the two hours since I dismissed you?"
"He said his diagnosis would be a heart attack were he a man." Glorfindel remarked. Noenri turned immediately and hissed a string of orders to Cirulian, who promptly hurried off. Then the healer focused on assessing Elrond's condition as Glorfindel described the encounter with Isildur. His heartbeat was erratic but the vessels were unobstructed; however, the flow of Elrond's blood and life's energy were greatly disturbed. He focused his soothing song on the elf. Then keeping one hand on Elrond's chest to monitor his condition he turned to Glorfindel.
"The prince of the edain carries the one ring on a chain around his neck!" Noenri exclaimed. "Cirdan told me that he dared not send any extra warriors with Isildur and Elrond, so horrible was the dark voice that invaded his own mind as he stood near Isildur that day. He still has nightmares of the experience. Surely, Elrond could also withstand such an invasion. What are you not telling me?"
"Isildur fell to the ring's will and put it on his finger." Glorfindel revealed.
"How did he have the strength to remove it?" Noenri queried.
"I think it was out of remorse for his assault on Elrond." Noenri gasped at Glorfindel's revelation. "He thought he had killed him."
"How?"
"You are the healer. The signs still remain." Glorfindel said cryptically. "Can you help Elrond?" As if on queue another healer entered carrying healing supplies. Cirulian delivered boiling water. Noenri administered several medicines that acted in concert to relax the heart, dilate blood vessels, and relieve pain. Then mindful of Glorfindel's revelations he dismissed the others for an hour while he bathed Elrond with the Aethelas water in an effort to mitigate the influence of the black breath.
"Go rest, Glorfindel. Elrond is strong. I will care for him until morning." Noenri ordered as the other healers returned. They wove their healing music around him. The tendrils of support slowly penetrated Elrond's tormented dreams. Gradually his heart responded to the treatments and his mind slid in and out of healing sleep. Hopeful memories slowly eclipsed the horrors sent by the one ring.
In the midst of dreams:
He stood consoling Ereinion a week after Indiriel passed from this world into Mandos' care.
"If your love is ever in such a situation, make her sail West." Ereinion's voice carried a deep melancholy.
"Why was she so adamantly against sailing?" Elrond asked quietly.
"She suspected that I would never depart this world for the West. She wanted to spend all the time left to her with me." Unspoken was the uncertainty that one would ever be released from Mandos' Halls. Glorfindel was the lone example in that regard. Elrond could only gape. He had always thought of his mentor as indestructible. It was shocking to hear that Indiriel believed her beloved would pass into Mandos' Halls. Surely, nothing could rob the mighty Gil-Galad of his life. Elrond silently vowed to do all he could to guard his King.
"We had six hundred and three years together. I am so thankful to have been blessed with her company, even for that relatively short time. No one could ever replace her in my heart. I pray that you will also be blessed with a great love." Ereinion smiled and sighed.
The dream shifted and an Elleth with silver hair smiled at him. His heart fluttered at his first impression of this beauty, who secretly held his heart. How he wished he could be worthy of her. No, he best not tell her. It was better to hide his feelings than to be rejected outright. She was so much above him.
"Come walk with me." Her musical voice was a balm to his spirit. It was his secret fantasy that she might somehow return his love. He smiled and bowed.
"I am most honored, dear Lady Celebrian." He said, giving himself over to the wonderful dream.
"How does he fare?" Glorfindel asked upon his return.
"His dreams have broken free of the dark hold. Our presence is a barricade against the darkness."
"I will guard him for awhile." Glorfindel promised. He reached to take Elrond's hand as if to reassure himself that his dear friend was still alive."
"We will need to guard one another closely." Noenri sighed. "He is not the only one to suffer wounds to his spirit. There are many who also suffer such injuries. We have been hard pressed to treat just the wounds that bleed. There has been little time to care for the soul. It was the same after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears and even after we emerged victorious in the War of Wrath. We must be vigilant to protect each other. "
"War inflicts not only bodily injuries." Glorfindel agreed. "Elrond has helped me through countless nights when the memories of Gondolin assaulted me."
"Elrond has cared for soldiers thus wounded before, but it is often difficult to recognize such wounds in oneself. Many of our warriors and leaders carry these scars. Celeborn and Cirdan are battling their own demons. I have seen the signs clearly in the new King of Greenwood. Returning home will bring many challenges for us to overcome. The night will be the most dangerous time."
"I will watch over Elrond. It is your turn to rest." Glorfindel reiterated. The ancient healer's eyes betrayed his exhaustion. He, too, was greatly affected by the death that surrounded them.
"I have not the skill to heal Elrond's wounds completely. You must take him to the Lady. I also give you the task of keeping watch over her Lord. Celeborn also witnessed Gil-Galad's death and I have noticed him caught in tormented daydreams. I have heard him thrashing around in the night, caught in the thrall of tormented dreams. His tent is next to mine." Noenri divulged.
"And you? Are you well, Master Noenri?" Glorfindel asked.
"I find myself relying on sleeping draught far too much. I hope never again to step foot in this forsaken land of Mordor."