A/N: Happy New Year! I hope all of you a healthy and happy new year. This took longer than I wanted-hard to get back into the rhythm of things. But, finally, here it is. Thank you to all for being patient. :)
The southern border of Forochel. April 5, SA 542
ELROND returned to the cave and greeted Mistress Eryn who was changing the herbs plastered onto Gwinion's wounds. The pale daylight reached into the entrance of the cave.
"Good morning to you, Mistress Eryn. Gwinion. How are you feeling this morning?"
The young Sindarin soldier smiled brightly in reply. "I am well as I could be, sir. Mistress Eryn and the other healer have taken good care of me."
"Can you walk?"
"Yes! I got up earlier."
Eryn shook her head. "Get up, yes. Walk, a few steps. More walk will hinder the mending. Not just outside hurt, inside hurt, too."
The young soldier rubbed at the back of his head. When he turned back to Elrond, Gwinion's eyes were clouded. "Have you any news of Commander Aron, sir? I have heard that if you don't rescue them soon, the Orcs…they…." Gwinion frowned. "Is it true what they say about the prisoners they take?"
"They did not hurt you, did they?" Elrond gazed at the young soldier. He understood Gwinion's fear. But Elrond trusted Thranduil's intuition, especially when it was shared by the Silmacils. Three of them believed Aron was taken as bait, and that Sauron will not harm the Sindarin commander until that Morgoth's Maia got what he wanted.
"We believe Commander Aron is alive. There may yet be hope for the rescue." If it was not, Thranduil would not have agreed to go with them to the camp in Evendim although now Elrond realized that his friend had other plans. But Elrond knew Thranduil. His friend was unpredictable and stubborn, and he hated having others tell him what to do. But if left alone to think and allowed to make up his own mind, Thranduil never disappointed Elrond. "Try not to worry about it for now and focus on getting better. I don't know how much you know about the Silmacils, but once they are involved, things always work out."
Gwinion nodded with a smile. Elrond smiled back.
Once Eryn finished the new binding and helped Gwinion to lie back on his bedroll, she turned to Elrond and handed him the poultice she had made.
"When Huit brings the next batch of herbs, you try to make this. This helps ease pain and itch." She gestured toward the bowl. "You smell them. Tell what's in them?"
Elrond took the stone bow and inhaled the scent of the herb mixture. Minty, sharp and sweet, their differing fragrances stirred his curiosity as if each plant was a new book to be explored.
In the past four days, he had learned more about the herbs, plants, and their uses from Eryn than he had at Lindon. He had heard that Green Elves were masters in the knowledge of plants, trees, and all things of the forests, but Elrond had given little thought to them. He learned about healing from the best healers at Lindon. He did not think others would know more than the Noldor. Among all the Elves, Noldor were most knowledgeable. But Elrond found that no one person or group knew everything, even if they were the Noldor and the most enlightened. People had knowledge and experience that were unique to them, and Green Elves had knowledge only they knew or knew better than others. Everyone, it seemed to Elrond, had something they alone could teach and contribute, and Elrond wanted to know everything. And the more he learned, the more he realized how little he knew about the world.
And amongst all the new knowledge, he loved the art of healing the most. It gladdened his heart to see someone unwell well again. Whenever he had free time, he spent it helping Mistress Taurien, one of the court healers.
Mistress Taurien had mentioned that at Valinor, there was hardly any injury to speak of except those that rose out of carelessness born of inexperience, exuberance, and perhaps a drop of stupidity. Only in childbirth was there a true need for healers as the birth of a child took much out of both parents. The need for healers for the couples who were expecting became more prominent after the passing of Lord Finwe's wife, Lady Miriel, who expired after giving birth to Finwe's first child, Feanor. She had been the first person in Valinor to enter Mandos. And her death which had shocked and grieved Noldor had influenced some Noldor to take an interest in healing under Vala Estë. Prior to that, Mistress Taurien had said the healing art was practiced mostly by the Vanyar who are considered the most powerful users of inner energy as the healing in Valinor depended less on the herbs and poultices and more on the power of the healers who trained under Vala Estë. Elrond had wondered then how powerful a healer Thranduil's mother was. How wonderful it would have been to have met her, to have learned from her.
Thranduil had mentioned that his mother had said that the plants and the flowers on earth, unlike their counterpart that exists in the blessed land, had developed unique characteristics different from those that grew and bloomed in Valinor.
Elrond tried to discern the scent and the texture of the many herbs as Eryn checked the condition of other soldiers. The injured soldiers and the hunter were healed except for the one whose arm was broken. Broken bones always took the longest to heal.
The hunter who had an arrow to his leg was the first amongst them to walk about the village, mingling with the villagers. Maybe it was their ability to work with forest creatures, but somehow, Elrond saw that both Eryn and the hunter seem to get along with the Skin-changers even when they understood less of the words this bear-people used. Elrond found this strange since he thought the Green Elves didn't mingle easily with others.
As with all things, Noldor were quicker than the Sindar or the Nandor at learning different languages. The oldest Noldorin soldier had already grasped some words and could communicate with Huit. And Elrond could discern some words and sounds. At least, he understood the words the Skin-changers used to refer to him and the other Elves. The closest Elrond could translate was that they referred to the Elves as'Shiny Eyes', Thranduil as 'Flower-head', and they referred to him as 'Bear-chest'. Elrond wasn't fond of the nickname. It made him acutely aware of his differences with the other Elves who lacked body hair, but he preferred 'Bear-chest' over being called 'Flower-head.'
Elrond chuckled. If Thranduil knew what these people called him, the Sinda would feed him to the Orcs for his part in coloring the hair.
"Something funny?" Eryn asked.
"I just remembered what Huit called Thranduil."
Eryn grinned. "You not tell Thranduil, are you?"
"No. But why is it that they call you by your name, but not ours?"
"Your names hard for them to pronounce. Have simple name like mine and they use." Eryn chuckled.
Just as Elrond shook his head with resignation, Huit walked in carrying a large basket of herbs and plants, mostly dried over winter. As soon as Elrond saw the healer's face, he felt his muscles tense. He could tell something was wrong.
"Sun warms you?" Elrond asked in the Skin-changer's tongue as he heard them use for a morning greeting.
"Ya. Sun warms you." Huit returned his greeting but lowered her voice as she glanced behind her. "You no eat food. Go … hurt," she pointed to the back of the cave. "Bjorn no smile…."
Elrond frowned at Huit. She couldn't mean what he thought she meant.
"Your chief angry? Something wrong with the food?" Eryn turned to Huit, making an exaggerated face. The healer woman looked lost.
"Let's ask one thing at a time," Elrond said. He turned to Huit. "Go?" Opening his hands, he turned to left and right, hoping she understood he was trying to ask her 'where' and 'why.' They were such simple words, but difficult to convey.
Huit glanced back to the entrance of the cave again before bending down to draw a circle, then two lines running together that turned and twisted. She pointed to the circle, looked about her then pointed to it again.
"I think the circle is this cave," Elrond murmured. He pointed to the two lines, then pointed to the back of the cave. Huit looked up, her eyes shiny, nodding enthusiastically. The two lines ended at wide wavy lines.
Elrond pointed to the wavy lines. Huit made a swooshing sound, then took out a water skin and pointed.
"Water. That must be the river. She is showing us a way out of here. There must be a path through the back of the cave that opens to the river." He looked up at Huit. "But, why?"
Eryn grabbed Elrond's arm, making him turned to the entrance of the cave. A woman entered who had corn-yellow hair braided and wrapped around her head, something Elrond noted was reserved for married women. The Half-elven recognized her as Sif, Bodvar's wife. She was hard to miss, not only because she and her daughter stood out as the only ones with yellow hair, but because she and Huit were the only women allowed inside the cave. Behind her, two men followed carrying baskets containing bread and mead.
As soon as she entered, Sif glanced at Huit who nodded discreetly. Bodvar's wife smiled widely and greeted Elrond. She offered the bread and mead. With no further words to him and others, she turned, said something to the two men who had sat down on the floor of the cave after handing the basket of food to the Elrond's people. The men seemed to protest, but Sif held up her chin and barked what appeared to be a command. The men got up and left the cave.
Elrond reached out with his senses. The woman was nervous, all her nerves on end, but Elrond could not tell why, whether it was for Elrond and his people or herself and her people. He wished he could speak their tongue. Not being able to understand and be understood made him feel helpless.
"Lady Sif," he called out to Bodvar's wife. "Bodvar?" Elrond looked around him with his hands up, hoping she understood.
"Bodvar go." Sif pointed to her head. "Flower-head go." She wriggled her fingers in a motion as if they were legs walking away.
Was she saying Bodvar went away with Thranduil? It couldn't be. Thranduil said he would return, and he never lied to Elrond.
Elrond shook his head. "Flower-head come." Elrond pointed to the floor of the cave. "I go" he pointed to Bodvar's wife "see Flower-head." Elrond hoped Sif would take him to see Thranduil.
But Bodvar's wife shook her head resolutely. "You go," she pointed to the back of the cave. "You here, you hurt."
"Flower-head go." Elrond pointed to the back of the cave. "No Flower-head, I no go."
"Flower-head here." Sif shook her head. "Flower-head Yrsa" Sif clasped her hands then shook. What had Bodvar's daughter to do with Thranduil? Elrond could not understand. He wished Thranduil was here so the Sinda could translate what was happening.
Sif walked away before he could ask her anymore.
"Wait, please." He followed after Sif who walked with a quickness that surprised Elrond. But he could not follow her. As soon as Elrond stepped out of the cave to follow after her, the two guards by the cave blocked him, their spears held in a threatening position. Elrond called, but Sif walked away without turning back to look.
Elrond faced the two men who stopped him. He did not fear the men or their weapons. Their bear form was fierce, but their weapons were crude, a stick with sharpened bones tied at the end. These Shape-changers were strong physically, but their skill with the spears was lacking in many ways. But, without knowing their intent, or the intent of their chief, Elrond did not want to take any risks that could damage the relationship between his people and Bodvar's.
Elrond scanned the two men in front of him. After his talk with Thoron, Elrond had shaken off his reservations and used his power to feel the emotions of everyone he came in contact with. He needed to be certain of their safety. He had reassured Thoron of the intent of the Skin-changers because he detected no animosity from the Skin-changers. It was the only reason the two Silmacils left them behind at the village to scout the area.
And even now, with the guards holding him back, Elrond did not detect any anger or threat from them. One of the guards pointed his spear at Elrond then pointed it to the cave. Elrond held up his hands when Huit came to stand next to him. The healer spoke sharply to the guards, and they lowered their spear.
Elrond understood as the guards spoke back to Huit that he and the other Elves were not to leave the cave. Hearing the name of Bjorn, Elrond discerned that it was their chief who ordered them held here.
Huit looked up at Elrond with an apology, but with no further words, she left. Elrond went to talk with Eryn as she took out some breads from the bottom of the basket of herbs Huit brought.
"Huit hid them in her herb basket," Eryn said. She turned to finish binding Gwinion's wound with fresh bandages and poultice. "I think we go as soon as we can. They put sleeping herbs in the food men brought. They not bother us for a while until we sleep, I think."
"Why would they do this? After treating us like friends for days? I didn't feel they were lying to us," the older soldier named Daugon said. He was the eldest and ranked highest among the four soldiers. "If we are to go, we must have our weapons returned to us before we can leave."
The Elven soldiers put on their armor which they had been allowed to keep. But none of them had any weapons except daggers which had not been taken away.
"Huit said she left our things at the end of the cave but no great bows, it seems," Daugon said as Eryn rolled up the herbs in the basket with the bandages and distributed bread and water skins among the soldiers.
Elrond understood that the Noldorin bows which were bigger and heavier than that of the Nandor's smaller and lighter bows were too noticeable for Huit to take them out of wherever they were held.
"Go as speedily as you can." Elrond turned to Daugon. "Head to our camp in Evendim. Do you know the way?"
"Not from here, my lord. This area is new to me, but from the foothills of Evendim, I know the way."
"I know the area," Eryn said. "Durion took me to the east soon after we married. We traveled Eriador together. This is far north than we had gone, but if I can see the mountains and the stars, I know the way to the Hills of Evendim."
"Then you lead the way, Mistress Eryn. Daugon, support Mistress Eryn as well as you can. Tell the commander at Evendim what happened and have him ready the army to move at a moment's notice."
"But what of Captain Thranduil and you, sir?" Daugon frowned up at him.
"What will happen to Commander Aron?" Gwinion asked.
"As to the commander, the Silmacils will take over from now on. The rest of you think only of returning to the camp safely. I will go see about Thranduil. But where is that hunter?"
"He left early in the morning. Now that his leg is healed, he wanted to test it."
Elrond frowned. If the guards didn't stop the hunter from leaving, the order to put them to sleep must have come later. They hadn't stopped Thranduil nor him when he went out to look for the Sinda.
"But you, sir. You must come with us." Daugon seemed determined not to leave Elrond behind.
" You and Mistress Eryn must lead the rest out of here. I will wait for the hunter and Captain Thranduil." Thranduil said he will return. He wouldn't have left without telling him first. As long as Elrond had known him, Thranduil had never lied to him. Perhaps Sif thought Thranduil left because that is what Bodvar told her before he met with his friend. Besides, Thoron and Baldor were scheduled to return this afternoon. If there was no one left here to explain to them what happened, Elrond feared how the Silmacils may react.
" But we cannot leave you here alone, sir," Daugon insisted. "If Lord Commander finds out that we left you here among the hostiles, reprimand alone is not what we will get."
"Do not fear for me. The Silmacils will be here soon and they will bring additional soldiers. I am ordering you to leave out of an abundance of caution, but these Men will not hurt me."
"How could you be certain?" Eryn asked.
Elrond held Eryn's and Daugon's eyes. "I am not guessing. I know." He turned to Daugon. "And I am not just telling you, Officer Daugon. As the senior officer, I am commanding you."
Once the last of the soldiers left the cave, Elrond sat down next to the basket of untouched food and waited. He wasn't sure what would happen once the Skin-changers determined he and his people were asleep. And where was Thranduil? He should return by now. But more than anything, Elrond wondered what Bjorn had in mind. Why suddenly choose to act against them now? Elrond had not detected any desire on the part of the Skin-changers to deceive them.
Thranduil? Where are you? Can you hear me?
Elrond reached out with his mind, hoping Thranduil would respond. Their connection was not always clear, but ever since he had the glimpse of Thranduil's mind four centuries ago, Elrond found that he could communicate with Thranduil if the Sinda opened his mind. Over the four centuries, studying together under Lord Gilmagor, they had established a clearer connection. But Thranduil was reluctant to open himself fully and disliked using sanwe-latya. Elrond did not blame him, and he would not force his thoughts onto his friend. But right now, Elrond needed to know where the Sinda was.
Thranduil, however, was silent.
It wasn't until the sun rose above the stone ceiling and its light flooded the cave, chasing away the remnant of the darkness from the corners, that Bjorn's men came. They were surprised to find Elrond alone, but knowing they could not communicate, they brought him to the longhouse.
The Longhouse was a rectangular structure constructed of wood at the center of the village. It was used as a hall where the villagers gather to meet or celebrate when outside weather was too foul. In front of the house, at the end of the large open space, was a huge stone basin where a fire burned. Through Thranduil, Bodvar had told them that the fire was brought from the burning river deep within a mountain. They had special guards whose job it was to keep the fire burning constantly. This was where people from the village came to get fire for their hearth when their fire went out.
The guards took Elrond to the front of the longhouse. It seemed as if the entire village came to see him and their chief. As he stood surrounded by the throng of villagers, behind the stone basin of fire, on the steps to the longhouse, Bjorn appeared surrounded by his guards. Behind them stood Huit and Sif. Elrond glanced around for Bodvar and the rose-colored hair of Thranduil, but both were nowhere to be seen.
Elrond turned his attention back to Bjorn. The chief of the Skin-changers was a tall man, about a head taller than all others. Thick graying beard hid most of Bjorn's face. The man's honey-brown eyes had been warm and filled with wonder and curiosity when Elrond first beheld him. But the Half-elven had been burning with fever from the Orc poison then. The few times Elrond interacted with Bjorn, the man had been jovial and welcoming. The Half-elven had known he could trust Bjorn, and Elrond had never been wrong about his feelings. But this Bjorn who stood before him was a different man. His honey-brown eyes which had looked warm were not golden anymore but red-brown of the river clay that had caught the light of the dying sun.
Elrond flooded the village square with his senses. Like the rays of light, his senses spread through the people who stood around him. He gathered the tendrils of emotions from men and women. When he didn't sense any hostility from them, Elrond relaxed.
"No see you friend." Bjorn's deep voice boomed throughout the open space.
Something scratched the delicate surface of Elrond's senses. The Half-elven frowned. Something jarred in the resonance of Bjorn's voice. It was hardly noticeable, too minuscule to be felt by anyone, except Elrond was not just anyone. His senses could detect even the slightest of differences. Elrond scrutinized Bjorn.
Like other bear warriors, Bjorn wore a wolf-fur frock decorated with many teeth and feathers. But there was one decorative item Elrond had not seen before. Around his thick neck, Bjorn wore a shiny gold collar. When his eyes fell on it, Elrond felt his heart stop. It looked like the gold collar that he saw Thranduil wore in his dream. It looked exactly same except the one Bjorn wore was thinner and wider.
A terrible feeling swept Elrond. He couldn't explain the feeling. It was as if something grabbed hold of his neck and choked a breath from his lungs.
"Where did you get that?" Elrond pointed to the gold collar. "Where is Thranduil? What have you done to him?"
Bjorn grabbed his gold collar, then growled a command. His men turned around to face their chief as if they could not believe what was said. Huit's face turned pale. She was talking too fast for Elrond to understand the words, but he understood she was protesting Bjorn's command.
The crowd which had been murmuring quietly stirred. There were whispers, then voices spoke here and there. Bjorn turned to them and addressed them. Elrond could not make out the words spoken. What had been murmurs among the people rose up, the sounds that started as a swooshing of wind turned to growls.
Elrond took in a quick breath. The people gathered whose faces had been full of curiosity turned hostile. Something was not right. Elrond could feel it, but he didn't know what to do about it. He glanced at Huit and Sif. Bodvar's wife stood erect, her face calm and stoic but the healer's face turned white as a bowl of milk. Elrond wished he could understand what was said and could speak so that they could understand him. But when he could not communicate with words, what can he do?
With a deep sigh, he let emotions fill him. Opening his arms, Elrond turned to the face of the bear warriors behind Bjorn. Some of them were the ones who fought side by side with him and his people against the Orcs.
"You." Elrond pointed to warriors who stood behind Bjorn. They had fought with him on the battle against the Orcs. "We are friends. We fought together." Elrond fisted his hands in a motion to express fighting. "Friend." He pointed to himself, then to Bjorn. "We are friends. I don't understand what you are trying to do."
Huit who stood behind Bjorn shook her head. "No good. No good. No fight. No Bjorn."
Bjorn growled as he threw off his fur tunic. The guards behind him beat their chest as one of them handed their chief a spear. It wasn't the sharpened bone spear that most of the guards had in their hands. Its pole was thicker than Elrond's arm and twice longer than the ones Bjorn's guards were holding. And on the tip was not a sharpened bone, but iron dagger glistening like an icicle.
"No. I think you misunderstood me. I don't want to fight Bjorn. I am a friend. Friend." Elrond tried the word for 'friend' in their tongue, but someone threw him a spear. Elrond caught it but laid it on the floor. "I don't want to fight you." Elrond stepped back and away from the spear, his hands raised.
Bjorn bellowed as he took to a run, lifting his massive spear high over his head, the chief of the Skin-changers jumped up straight at Elrond. The young Noldo jumped back, barely missing the first blow.
"Please. I don't want to hurt you."
Bjorn turned, then struck again. Elrond swerved to escape the thrust, then jumped up to avoid a sweep.
"Please. I don't want to do this."
Bjorn growled then followed with a series of stabs. Elrond jumped up, flipped in the air to land behind Bjorn. Just as Elrond's feet touched the ground, however, the pole of Bjorn's spear changed direction and came at him, striking Elrond on the chest. The Half-elven staggered and fell back to the ground.
Bjorn turned with a grin and a speed Elrond had not foreseen. The bearish man jabbed, piercing the ground as Elrond rolled over and over to avoid the deadly stab.
Sitting up, Elrond grabbed the bone-tipped spear he had previously laid on the ground and blocked the oncoming thrust. He tilted the end of his pole toward Bjorn intending to disarm the man, but Elrond had underestimated the man's strength. The man pulled Elrond in and smashed his head.
Elrond stumbled back and looked up as Bjorn thrust his weapon to spear him. He moved in time, but the spear left a gash on Elrond's side.
"Are you trying to kill me?" Elrond glared at Bjorn then at the people around him.
A strange heat rose from them, dark and hot. Turbulent emotion, seething with volatile energy, surrounded the people. Elrond sensed it and knew even without being told that the fight wouldn't stop until either he or Bjorn lay dead.
Miriel (Quenya. Jewel-daughter)—First wife of King Finwe of Noldor. She is also known by her epesse, Serindë (Quenya. Broideress) for her unsurpassed talent in embroidery. Upon birthing her first child, Feanor, she became so wearied that she chose to leave the world of living. She was the first Elf in the blessed land to die (so to speak).
Vala Estë (Quenya, rest)—Vala of healing and rest, wife of Irmo (Vala of visions and dreams). She had a power to heal all hurts. In her Garden of Lorien where she resided with her husband, she provide rest and healing for the Elves of Valinor.
Vanyar (Quenya, Fair ones)—First and smallest of the three Elven clans (others being Noldor and Teleri—Teleri broke into three major groups: Falmari (led by Olwe and went to Valinor), Sindar (remained in ME with Thingol) and Nandor (Green Elves and the Wood-elves)). They are all golden-haired and did not return to Middle Earth (except during the War of Wrath). They are most beloved of Manwe and Varda. Their king, Ingwe is considered the high king of all Elves.
Sanwe-latya (Quenya, Thought opening)—telepathy, exchange of information, perception, emotion or memory straight from one mind to another. Only those with powerful minds who share some close affinity or shared history could use this method to communicate.