Disclaimer:  Middle Earth and all things and people related to it belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and his heirs.  I promise to put my toys away when I am done.

Trails and Tribulations

When Elrond awoke, he almost instantly regretted that he had.  His head ached furiously, sending pulsing pain from the back of his head through his brain.  Worse than the pain was the feeling that he should be doing something, something very important… if only he could make the pain stop so he could think straight.  His training as both a soldier and a healer took over and he laid still, trying to categorize the injuries done to him.  His legs still worked, his arms were still attached… and he was dealt no major cuts or slashes, as far as he could tell…  just the ferocious pain at the back of his head.  Warily he lifted his left hand, reaching back to attempt to further investigate this injury.  Another hand, softer and smaller than his own, captured and held his, stopping his movement.

            "My lord?  Lord Elrond, are you well?" an anxious and masculine voice asked somewhere off to his right.  'Erestor' he realized, recognizing the voice of his long-time councilor, and was secretly amused.  One would think, after being with him for so long, that Erestor would drop the honorific when not in formal company.  Ah well.  If Erestor did that, Elrond might die from shock over the whole thing.  In addition, Elrond decided matters must not be too grave, if it was Erestor at his side instead of a healer.  He did wonder why it was Erestor calling him, and not Glorfindel – he had grown used to awaking in pain and hearing the stubborn warrior's voice echoing in his ear from the long years of siege at Dagorlad.  The nagging feeling from earlier assaulted him again, turning down the corners of his mouth in a worried frown.  Where was he, and what has happening?

            "Elrond… my love, open your eyes." A second, decidedly feminine voice ordered, though her tone was bordering on outright mirth.  There was, however, a note of sadness and worry in that voice.  It was that worrisome tone, more than anything else, which convinced him to finally open his eyes.  The fact that they were closed was a minor worry – if his wife and chief councilor saw no reason to fret over it, then neither should he.

            "Celebrian?  What is wrong?" he asked before his eyes could focus properly.  Gradually the lovely vision of the silver-haired elf-maiden that was his wife swam into clear view.  Absently he noted from the light shining through the window behind his wife that it was mid-day already.  He was in his own room, with Erestor sitting stiffly in a carved chair and Celebrian curled up beside him in bed. 

            "What do you remember?" Erestor questioned quietly from his other side.  Elrond frowned slightly without taking his eyes from Celebrian as he considered the question.  Muddled memories slowly worked their way to the surface as he concentrated.  "The Dunédain… they came for help in the night.  I had to pacify that ignoble brute first… and then I went to see Elladan and Elrohir…" his grey eyes widened in shock, and he tried to sit up.  Celebrian laid a restraining hand on his chest. 

            "Rest, Glorfindel and the search parties are long gone.  He has been sending back reports every hour… the next messenger is due soon." The wise silver lady soothed.  Elrond did not reply, instead turning to glare daggers at his remaining councilor. 

            "You let him leave?" His voice was silky and calm, but the terrifying fury in his eyes made Erestor's heart quail.  Elrond was an elf-lord of power, the heir and herald of the High King Gil-galad, and was not to be trifled with lightly.  "You let him leave without challenge, without rebuke?  Erestor, he countermanded my orders, directly disobeying my will in this matter." His voice was cold and hard, and Erestor was beginning to believe he would rather his lord raged and fumed rather than have him continue in this tightly controlled manner.

            "My lord Elrond, I…" Erestor nervously began, but Elrond swiftly cut him off with a commanding gesture.

            "No.  I do not wish to hear it.  Leave us." He ordered quietly, but there was finality in his voice that kept Erestor from protesting.  Without another word, Erestor silently left the room, courteously shutting the door behind him.  Celebrian gave him a stern glance, shaking her head.

            "He did not deserve that.  He has been beside himself with worry since you were brought in, my love." She admonished him gently, running a soothing hand through his dark tresses.  Elrond sighed and pulled himself up as Celebrian propped up pillows behind him so he could sit comfortably.  His head still ached, but the pain was manageable.

            "I know he did not, and I will apologize to him… assuming he will ever let me close enough to do so." Elrond replied ruefully, and then shook his head gingerly, finally looking away in shame.  "I am sorry, nin-meleth.  I meant to bring them back to you.  I…" Celebrian laid a hand over his lips, her other hand turning his head towards her so she could meet his eyes.

            "There is nothing for you to be sorry for.  They are safe; you know this too be true.  If they were not, you would most certainly know.  Glorfindel will find them.  Have you ever known him to fail in what he sets out to do?"  Celebrian asked softly, resuming her comforting ministrations.  Elrond gave his wife a soft smile, and lifted a hand to copy her movements.

            "Nin-meleth, it is I who is supposed to be comforting you." He protested gently.  Celebrian shook her head.

            "Allow me this small distraction, Elrond.  If I think of them, out there, alone, I shall go mad with worry." She begged, here bright blue eyes finally filling with tears.  Her heart was well nigh broken with fear when she thought of her sons and only by caring for her husband was she able to stay calm.  Elrond saw this with a keen glance and nodded.  Slowly he shifted to curl his arms around her.  She rested her head on his chest, and together they waited for the latest news, both anticipating and dreading its coming.

            Glorfindel splashed over the Ford of Bruinen, his company hard on his heels.  He held up a hand to halt them before they reached the far shore, not wanting any tracks trampled beyond recognition.  Slowly and carefully, he rode along the riverbank, searching for the precious marks he knew must be here.  They had been following the twins' trail since high noon, moving as best they could with the narrow trail and sometimes-faint trail.  They were reaching muddier land now, which boded well for tracking if their light held.  The night still came swiftly and with a bone-freezing chill.  In another hour or so night would fall, and the new moon would lend little light to aid their search.  There!  He leaned over Asfaloth's neck to peer at the hoof imprints.  Yes, these were the twins' ponies… he waved the company forward as he kneed Asfaloth forward. 

He had just left the river when two shrill neighs broke the still afternoon air, and the sound of galloping hooves came steadily closer.  His ears pricked and he leaned forward in the saddle.  Could the twins be returning?  He was fully prepared to welcome the twins home, with reprimands of course, when the two master-less ponies broke through the cover of the forest and bolted towards him.  He paled at the sight of them – muddied, with their sides heaving.  Stormy bore a jagged slash along his flank, and the whites of both ponies' eyes were showing.  Calmly, murmuring soothing words, he dismounted and reached for both of the scared mounts.  Another of his company dismounted to aid him, and soon both ponies were caught and examined.  They only bore their tack: there was no sign of either the twins or their packs, which the kitchen staff assured him both twins carried.  He ran a hand through Stormy's mane as he considered his next move.  Finally, he called a messenger forth. 

            "Lead both of these ponies back to the stables, then tell Lord Elrond that I ride on.  Tell him…" he paused and closed his eyes, already regretting the pain he had caused and would cause his long-time friend.  "Tell him I will not come back without them."  Without another word he swung up into Asfaloth's saddle. 

            "We ride on, by sun or by starlight!  We do not return without the sons of Elrond Peredhil!" he cried defiantly at whatever fate wished to oppose him.  Then he kneed Asfaloth, and the noble charger reared and leapt forward, following the outgoing path of hoof prints in the mud.  The bells on his horse's harness rang shrilly in the chill afternoon air.  His company gathered and charged behind them, leaving the lone elf with his two new equine charges.  Slowly the elf mounted his own quiet gelding, and they re-crossed the ford, making their careful way back to Imladris.