Blood of Innocents

By

Glorfindel's Girl

"A dying child gives life up willingly

If he is loved and held while dying.

Triumphant innocence can smile upon

Such terrors as make warriors scream."

– Calvin Miller

Day Four, Late Evening: Eluréd and Elurín

          Eluréd dipped the shirt into the icy brook, wrung the excess water from it, then ran back to his brother's side.  Hot.  He was so hot, burning with fever and yet Elurín still shivered as though chilled to his very bones.  He winced as Eluréd used the damp cloth to wipe his brow and chest.

          "So cold, Eluréd," he whispered, curling up into a fetal position.  Eluréd fought back tears as he lay the shirt against the back of his brother's neck.

          "Shhh.  You're very sick," he replied, covering Elurín's body lightly with his cloak.  It was snowing again, the flakes clinging to their hair and brows.  Eluréd reached down and brushed ice crystals from his brother's hair, tucking his dark locks behind his ears.  The wind picked up, whipping mercilessly around Eluréd's body, tiny shards of ice stinging as they hit his arms.   He was suddenly aware – truly aware – of the cold for the first time since…since…how long had he and Elurín been wandering in the forest? 

Shivering, he tried to count the days they had been lost.  How many nights had they spent out in the cold?  He could not remember.  Fighting to keep conscious through the cold, he worked backward.  Had it only been the day before that they found the brook and berry bushes?  It seemed like years.  And the day before that…that must have been the day they first awoke in the forest.  Three days.  They had only been in the woods for three days.  Four days since they were warm and safe in the palace.  That seemed a whole other lifetime.  A half-remembered dream clinging to the back of his mind upon waking.

The sound of his brother coughing brought Eluréd sharply back to reality.  The fit wracked his entire body, and he couldn't seem to draw a full breath.  Eluréd laid down beside his brother, wrapping his arms around him, protecting his body with his own, willing the cough to stop. 

"Just try to breathe, Elurín," he whispered.  "One breath at a time.  Deep breaths."  Eluréd would have cried then, if he'd had strength enough to do it.  But he was spent, physically and emotionally.  If only he had warned his brother, he wouldn't have fallen in the brook.  If only he could have gotten to him sooner, perhaps he wouldn't have gotten so chilled.  If only he'd caught the fever sooner, then perhaps it wouldn't have gotten so out of hand.  If only, if only, if only.  Now there was nothing he could do but hold him and pray.

          Eventually, Elurín's breathing did even out, and Eluréd continued to hold him, rocking him and murmuring softly to him.  He did not mean to fall asleep, but he was so cold, and it was so hard to cling to wakefulness.  So much easier to close his eyes…just for a minute…he would only rest his eyes for a minute…he felt himself slipping into sleep, and he did not care.

          Beyond his closed eyes, Eluréd could sense light.  Slowly, like a swimmer making his way to the surface, he pulled himself to consciousness and opened his eyes.  The moon overhead was full and bright, glittering upon the fresh snow like a field of diamonds.  He looked down at Elurín, still held within the circle of his arms, his chest rising and falling ever so slightly with each shallow breath. 

Snow had settled into his hair and onto his lashes.  Eluréd moved his hand to brush the flakes from his brother's face, pausing as he rested his hand upon his cheek.  He was warm, no longer burning with fever, and Eluréd could not help but smile.  Elurín was going to be all right.

Eluréd closed his eyes again, snuggling down against his brother.  But it was too bright, the moon reflecting too greatly upon the snow.  He could not sleep.  Sighing softly, he opened his eyes again.

          The moonlight was so bright that it cast dark shadows of the trees against the white ground.  Eluréd watched intently as the shadows shifted over the forest floor.

          But that wasn't right.  There air was still, the treetops frozen in the darkness.  There were no branches – let alone tree trunks – swaying in the wind.  So what then was causing the shadows to move and fade?  Slowly, so as not to wake Elurín, Eluréd sat up, eyes searching the darkness of the forest beyond the clearing.

          A strange silvery light was playing across the tree trunks deep in the forest.  It reminded him of the way torchlight would play across the stone passages in the recesses of the palace.  Except that this light was constant, not flickering like firelight.  Yet it moved through the dark forest just as it would if someone was bearing it.  He realized then that the light was coming nearer, and yet, somehow, he was not afraid.

          He lay still, watching the light grow brighter, closer, and wondered if perhaps he was dreaming.  The silvery glow was dazzlingly bright as it came round the trees into the clearing, and Eluréd had to cover his eyes.  When he moved his hands, he nearly cried out in surprise.

          A woman stood near the copse of trees, soft silvery light playing across the grey-green fabric of her gown.  Midnight dark hair spilled over her shoulders, reminding Eluréd sharply of his raven haired grandmother, whose bright eyes and melodious laugh hovered just on the edge of memory.  For the woman standing before him was like and yet unlike her.  The same dark hair framed the woman's face, but her eyes…her eyes were the green of spring meadows framed by brilliant blue skies. 

          The child and the woman regarded each other in patient silence for a long while.  Eluréd wondered if perhaps he had wandered into some waking dream, for the woman did not move, did not speak, did nothing that truly acknowledged his presence.  Yet…yet he knew that she saw him, knew that she was simply waiting for him to speak first.  It was only the feel of Elurín stirring beside him that brought Eluréd back to his senses.

          "Ara-amil (1)?  Grandmother?" he heard his brother ask, his voice hushed and filled with awe.  The woman smiled, and it was like sunlight breaking over green fields.  Again, he was reminded sharply of his father's mother, and for a split second, Eluréd could almost believe his brother's deduction.

          "Shhh," Eluréd murmured, wrapping his arms tighter around Elurín.  "It is not her.  It cannot be.  Who are you?" he asked the woman.  She only smiled once more, and made her way across the clearing, towards the place where they lay curled upon the rock.  Eluréd watched in wonder as she walked, catching glimpses of her bare feet beneath the hem of her gown.  Each place she stepped, the snow melted, and tendrils of grass snaked up around her bare feet.  As soon as she lifted her feet, though, the grass withered and died, leaving only a bare spots in the crystalline whiteness of the snow.

          She came to them, and knelt beside the place where they lay.  Reaching out a slender hand, she caressed the side of Elurín's face, but her eyes were focused solely on Eluréd.

          "But you already know who I am, Eluréd, son of Dior.  Son of Luthien.  Son of Thingol."  Her voice was like the first day of spring, warm and gentle.  She leaned down and kissed Elurín's forehead before looking back up at Dior's eldest son.  "As their blood flows in your veins, so too does mine," she said softly.  Eluréd shook his head, not wanting to believe.

          "Do you know where Amil is?  Did she send you to find us?" Elurín asked softly, staring at her through half-lidded eyes.  Eluréd willed his brother to be silent, clutching him tighter to his body.  The woman laughed softly, a rich, musical sound.

          "Your mother awaits you, smallest one," she replied.  "She wanted to come for you, but could not.  And so I did.  I've come to take you to her."

          Elurín stared up at her in silence for a long moment.  Then suddenly, before Eluréd could stop him, his brother rose and very nearly fell against the woman, throwing his arms about her neck, burying his face in her shoulder.  He drew back after a few seconds, laughing, a youthful, joyous sound. 

          "Eluréd, did you hear?!" he exclaimed, as the woman stood, drawing him up with her, holding him effortlessly in her arms.  Eluréd nodded solemnly.

          "I heard."

          The woman shifted Elurín's weight to one arm, and held out her hand to Eluréd.  Her eyes remained gentle and kind.  "Come, Eluréd," she said softly. 

Eluréd shook his head furiously as he stood and stepped away from her.  "No," he replied, voice trembling.  It wasn't fair!  Not now, not after they had tried so hard, after he had fought so hard for them.  No, no!  He had fought too hard to simply give up like this.  He had tried…oh gods how he had tried.  And he had failed.

"Yes, you have tried, Eluréd, son of Dior," the woman said softly, as though reading his thoughts.  "You have fought with the courage of many men.  You have shown bravery and compassion far beyond your years.  Know this: you have not failed.  You are not accepting defeat.  This is merely the next part of the journey."

Eluréd stood his ground, staring at his brother and the woman, tears tracing silently down his cheeks.  "I do not understand," he said finally.

"You will," she replied.  To this, Eluréd had no reply.

          "Take my hand, Eluréd," she said, extending her fingers towards him.  He hesitated for a moment, eyes searching her face for some sign, some certainty.  Slowly, he stepped towards her, reached out, and lay his hand in hers and his brother's.

          Time stood still.

Overhead, Eluréd watched the stars wheeling across the sky in a glittering blur, the moon waxed and waned a thousand times over.  Around them the snow melted, grass and leaves blossomed, faded, the ground covered in snow once more.  The trees grew taller, broader, and he could feel the very essence of time coursing through his body, flowing through his veins.  It was part of him, and in that moment he understood that he was only a very small part of something greater, something vast and intangible, surrounding him and yet ever distant.

          He laughed aloud, and the sound resonated throughout space, echoing in the very corners of the universe.  This, this was what it meant to be truly alive.  There was nothing holding him back, nothing to weigh him down, only this…this energy that surrounded him, consumed him, flowed from him.  He was floating, rising above it all, above the dark forest, above the sea, above the stars.  He smiled then, knowing that somewhere very near, his mother waited for him with open arms.  Together, he and his brother sought their way.  And together, they found it.

1 Ara-Amil – hopefully, translates loosely to 'grandmother'.