[Sindarin]
It has been some time since I've done this, so forgive me if I take my time about it.
No, you filthy beast! Let her go! Gilraen! Elrond could only watch with horror as his body took one step, then another, approaching the poor woman. He had failed her, failed his sons, his people. How could he have let this happen?
"Come, my pretty one," he heard his voice growl.
Gilraen had shut her eyes, her fists clenched, apparently trying to control her breathing. But as Elrond felt his body take one more step towards her, her trembling ceased, her eyes opened, and she met him eye-to-eye, all pretense of fear gone.
"If you wish." He glimpsed the ghost of a smile on her lips before she leapt at him, sending them both crashing to the floor, and kissed him thoroughly.
~*~
[Sindarin]
Elladan didn't know where he was going. He didn't quite care either. His mind felt as if it was full of down. He couldn't be sure of anything. So it was a bit of a surprise to find himself facing the door to his father's study. Not knowing what else to do, he tried opening it.
Only to find it locked. He knocked, but then heard a crash as something impacted with the floor, and a muffled yell that was quickly cut off.
"Ada!" Alarmed now, he shouted for help., but for some reason the corridor was deserted. As this was the least unusual of all that had happened that night. He simply proceeded to slamming his body against the door, until he heard the wood crack and splinter. Finally, it gave way, and he crashed into the room.
And the scene before him was what he definitely had least expected.
~*~
[Sindarin]
At first, all the elf-lord could feel was Gilraen on top of him; the lavender scent of her hair, and the way she was kissing him very thoroughly. He also registered the fact that whoever had possessed him was now in such a state of shock that Elrond had a few precious seconds of control again.
It was enough.
The feel of the cold metal band slipping onto his finger was all he needed. The blue jewel didn't need his help in banishing the foreign spirit from his body, but Elrond added his own considerable will power all the same. As he felt the blue glow infuse him, however, Elrond couldn't help thinking of Gilraen in sheer reverence. One word resounded in his mind: How?
Soft elven song filled his ears, as it did every time he wielded Vilya's strength. The Ring recognised him, greeted him in its own silent way, and resolutely chased out the last vestiges of the spirit that had taken control of the Lord of Imladris. Yet even in his predicament he was mindful of using too much, lest he announce to the dark powers of the world the location of one of the Three.
Seeing the blue glow, Gilraen stopped kissing him, and grinned instead. He smiled back, but before he could thank her, or indeed before either could move, the door of his study collapsed in..
The next thing they saw was the pale, incredulous face of Elladan, lying atop the broken door, staring at them. It was then that Elrond became painfully aware of their predicament: he was still lying on the floor, Gilraen astride him, and basically the worst possible scenario for his clearly distraught son to find his father and brother's mother in.
Without a word, Elladan got up, horrified, and had disappeared before elf or woman could say anything.
Embarrassed beyond belief, they were up in a heartbeat. "I fear there is much explaining to do," Elrond said, the warm comforting glow of Vilya not masking his crimson face. He made to go after Elladan. Gilraen, though her face was just as flushed, frowned and stopped him.
"Elrohir."
Shocked that he had forgotten about his dying son, he was racing through the House, Gilraen right behind him, heading for the Healing Hall. But a messenger intercepted them just as they turned a corner.
"The healers have told me that Lord Elrohir will live, my Lord. It seems the poison, though it came near to claiming his life, is suddenly dissipating," said the elf, unconsciously stepping back as Elrond's fiery gaze settled on him. "The healers are at a loss to explain it. They request for your presence as soon as possible, my Lord." Elrond knew that though the elf couldn't see the Ring on his finger, the it emanated could be sensed by all nearby. Elves had described a feeling of immeasurable peace and tranquility when they were in the vicinity of Galadriel. The Three were different, of course, and as its bearer, Elrond could not himself feel Vilya's effect on others, but he remembered suddenly having clarity of thought, after long weary nights without sleep in the days of the Last Alliance, every time Gil-Galad was near him.
"Of course. Thank you, my good elf." The messenger bowed, and sprinted off. Elrond turned to say something to Gilraen when Vilya flashed, and the elf lord felt a jolt of pain through his ribs.
"What is it, Elrond?" she asked, concerned, as he hissed in pain. The elf Ring, unused for so long, was very enthusiastically re-establishing its protective power over Elrond's realm, and now told him that the being who had possessed him had not been driven out fully.
"Help! Ada, Elladan, HELP ME!!!" He heard the cry as if Estel was next to him. An image of Estel, a dagger portruding from his chest as he lay still and pale on the ground, flashed before his eyes.
No… He had nearly lost Elrohir. He would not lose Estel.
"Estel," he gasped. "The Bow, quickly! He is still here, and he's trying to kill Estel!"
~*~
He didn't know where he was going. All he could think of was to run, run until he could run no longer.
The oldest son of Elrond felt his head pound. Too much had happened this day, and he simply wanted to get as far away as possible until… he didn't know until when, but was certain that the only way to keep his sanity intact was to continue running.
After a while, though, something else was intruding into his already fragile mind. It whispered to him, urging, warning. There were no words, just the sense of urgency and dread that Elladan had come to identify as a warning that something was happening, and not to him but to someone else close to him. Who could it be?
Something bright drew his eyes to the clear night sky, seen through gaps between the trees. Gil-Estel; his grandfather on fair Vingilot.
Estel.
No reasoning would have been able to explain the source of the elf's knowledge. Somehow, he realised what the whispers were trying to tell him, and suddenly all the abstract notions of loyalty to the law fled from his mind. His feet changed direction, heading towards higher ground, then onto tree branches. Towards the Bow.
~*~
[Language of the Istari]
The Grey Wizard smiled.
Well done, young elfling.
The pace of the Game was quickening now as pieces and schemes fall into place. Soon, his opponent will present his Choice, and the Game will be decided.
~*~*~
