Ambush - The Power of Vilya
'We need to get that wound stitched while he's asleep, and we need to figure out how to restrain him on the bed,' Eoela said finally.
This seemed to spur them into action, Estel quickly fashioned some restraints with a sheet, tying Elrond's wrists to the edge of the bed, giving him limited movement but not enough to get up. Elrohir and Eoela with the aid of the one-handed Elladan swiftly stitched the wound shut. Eoela was worried about the lesion- it looked very red and was hot to the touch.
'We really need him on his side so that any poison in there can drain out.' Gingerly they rolled him to his side and propped him in position with several pillows.
'What is that thing you do with your hands Eoela?' Estel asked. 'You pulled an arrow out of me, you re-set Elladan's arm, and you managed to calm Adar down. What is it?'
'I don't know,' she replied. 'I've always been able to help people with their pain, for as long as I can remember. My mother used to call it my healing touch.'
'Could it be that she's a healer?' said Elladan.
'I've never heard of a human having the power before, but there's no reason why not. Adar would know, but…'
Their conversation was broken by a groan of pain from the bed. Elrond was stirring, pulling against the bonds that secured him. Elladan leapt to his feet and went to kneel beside the bed so that his father could see him.
'You're safe, Ada, you're back in Imladris. We've taken a Morgulin arrow out of you. The yearning will come on you soon but we'll do everything we can to help.'
Elrond pulled on the fastenings with more vigour. 'Let me loose,' he hissed.
'No. You're too strong, unless you give up Vilya…'
'Get away from me you foul creature! I'll never give up Vilya! Never to you or any of your polluted breed!' He began to pull with even more force. Elladan reached out to try to calm his father. Laying his hand on Elrond's head he began to chant softly to himself, trying to fill the struggling elf with the strength to overcome the consuming sickness that filled him.
'Get away, melethronorqu[1]. How dare you even think that you could be a healer? You're useless! Useless!' Elladan was shocked. He had never before heard his father speak with such venom in his voice.
'If you were half the elf you think you are, you could have saved your mother!' Elrond snarled. 'You could have saved my Celebrían!'
'No, Adar, you know that's not true! We did everything we could-' Elrohir protested feebly.
'Ah, the mouse speaks. You're no better than your useless brother! I should have smothered you the day you first drew breath rather than waste time trying to raise you to my level!' Elrond was violently struggling against the tie now. His face was a livid red with anger and bitterness. 'Cut me loose or you will rue the day I ever spawned you.'
Elrohir now moved forward to join his brother, also chanting. Elrond laughed a laugh filled with resentment. 'Why did I waste my time with you both? You are filth, you are worse than the lowest orc. Get away from me. I don't need your pathetic help to heal. I need no one's help. I have Vilya! I control the very winds!'
Eoela became aware that the air was heavy with expectancy, as if a storm was brewing. Suddenly the sky outside was rent with a crack of lightning, followed by a roll of thunder. The twins continued their soft chanting, more in desperation than true hope now. The evil inhabiting their father was strong, made stronger by the power of the Ring he carried. Eoela stepped forwards, dragging Estel with her.
'We've got to help them.' she shouted above the noise of the storm.
'How?' Estel cried, raising his hands in hopelessness. 'I can heal using poultices and medicines, not like this. I have no healing power in me!'
'Yes you do, you have the power of your love for your father.'
'Love! I never loved you!' Elrond shouted. 'I only took you to my house so I could bed your mother. Not that that was worth it. She was as hopeless a lover as she was a mother! I only kept you here out of pity. Who else would want the bastard child of a bastard father? Hope?' He gave a cruel, hollow laugh. 'What hope have you now, human?' There was undisguised hatred and loathing in that word.
'Don't listen to him, Estel,' Eoela said levelly. 'It's not your father speaking it's the evil that was planted in him. You must be strong. Remember your father as he was. Remember him when times were good.'
Estel nodded, licking his lips. His eyes were drawn to his brothers- tears were streaming down both their faces as they fought the malicious spirit that inhabited their father. He stepped between them, resting one hand on each of their shoulders, closed his eyes, and began to remember.
[1] Orc-lover
