Hi!
Here´s more to read for you - a bit of a breather, though not really for Legolas... But still, some relief should spread after this one, just don´t feel too safe!
Thanks again for your wonderful reviews! Responses below - and PLEASE keep them up.
Now enjoy!
Alinah
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: So far from mine (too bad)
Warriors´ meeting
Elrohir could feel a warm touch graze his back and the soothing scent of athelas gently stole its way around him. He held on for a moment, inhaling. "Thuio antaig"//Breathe deeply// he encouraged the unresponsive elf in his arms, but nothing changed about the sharp, shallow way Legolas drew in air. The prince´s unnatural heat formed a stark contrast to the friendly warmth the fire in the cave spread out towards them.
Relieved though he had been that he had managed to calm Legolas initial panic, Elrohir had grown more and more concerned for his friend. He had applied a provisional splint to the injured leg and to his dismay Aragorn´s assessment that it was badly broken had proven an understatement. The leg had been swollen and hot, and Elrohir was sure that deep stab that had pierced Legolas´ thigh had done nothing to improve his condition. His senseless flight through the tunnel had added several cuts that were not dangerous in themselves but would weaken the battered body more. Elrohir was glad to know that his father would soon be there to treat the injuries, his preparations obvious by the sweet scent that encircled them, and the younger twin gently hefted his burden up again, resting the blond head against his shoulder, and crawled on.
In the cave, Elrond picked up his head when he heard his son move again. He had prepared everything as well as he could under the circumstances. Aragorn was sleeping deeply now, his wounds dressed and the sweet scent of the healing herbs easing his breathing. The elf lord had started a small fire and laid out herbs and bandages next to the blankets he had spread on the floor. Knowing that it would be a few more moments before he could relieve Elrohir from his burden he approached Faun.
He had asked the four healthy horses to stand guard by the cave´s mouth, and he could not bite back a small smile when he saw his own and the twin´s steeds stand still as statues, all their senses turned outward as they followed his request with utmost serenity. Gwaef, however, was looming over Faun protectively, head turned towards the fire, his eyes never leaving Aragorn. He made room for the elf lord as he drew nearer.
The grey stallion lay crumbled against a wall, his sides heaving. Blood soaked his light coat where he had been stabbed, and the hilt of a knife still stuck from the base of his neck. Elrond recognised the weapon but refused to be unsettled by the sight, even though the very idea of Legolas hurting his beloved horse like this seemed utterly absurd. He knew he had little time before the steed´s master would claim his full attention, but he was prepared to aid the animal as much as he possibly could.
He approached carefully, well aware how dangerous a wounded stallion could be, and spoke to him under his breath. "Dinen, Faun, dinen, alrhinc. //Be still, Faun, be still, don´t move.// The sensitive ears turned in his direction at the sound, and Elrond could feel the large eyes following his moves even though there was no strength left in the horse to lift his head. A very low nicker found its way from the rattling lungs and the elf felt his heart sink in pity. Even before he had laid a hand on the beast he could feel the battle that raged within it. The black wings of death lingered close by, but Faun´s spirit had not yet faltered.
Very slowly, the healer placed the small bowl with steaming water close to the grey head and the nostrils flared as the animal tried to draw in the easing aroma. Elrond reached out with his now free hand, trailing it in a tender gesture over the bent neck towards the still bleeding wound, allowing the horse to know where he was going. He felt the faintest twitch of muscles beneath his fingers and wished he would not have to hurt Faun further, but if he kept losing his life at this rate he would surely be dead within the hour.
Swiftly, Elrond pressed a cloth he had drenched in a mixture of herbs on the wound and held it there for a long moment, hoping to still the bleeding. The direct contact lengthened the dark shadows he could feel gathering around the animal. There was little reaction from Faun to the pain, and the elf found himself looking away from the sorrowful sight to gaze out into the storm. Even though occupied with the wounded, he had felt the deadly threat outside diminish, if not disappear entirely, and uncertainty build up inside him. There was no sign of Glorfindel as yet, not even a distant sound of hoofbeats.
"Adar!" The urgent call made Elrond push his fears away and he turned away from both the cave´s entrance and the horses, leaving two battles he could not aid to join the one that was meant for him.
Elrohir had straightened painfully, covered in dust and blood, and swiftly carried Legolas towards the fire. He placed him on the blankets with utmost care even though his arms trembled from exhaustion. Elrond could see his son´s eyes glow with dark fear, and taking in the wounded elf in clear light for the first time he more than understood the worries. If he had not seen Legolas with his own eyes only a few days ago, he would have believed him to have lived under the most dire circumstances for a prolonged period of time.
The usually slim archer had lost an impossible amount of weight in so short a time, looking close to death of starvation. Under all the grime and blood that covered him his bones cut out sharply, defining his features to the point of turning them into a mask. The pale skin, where it was unmarked, carried a sickish white glow that had nothing to do with the natural light of the elves and it was stretched out so tightly that it looked fragile, ready to rip. Many of the cuts looked fresh and Elrond had heard enough to guess what had happened in the tunnel, yet he immediately turned his attention to the one visible injury that did not bleed, ignoring even the soaked bandage around the younger elf´s thigh.
Picking up his knife, he undid the splint Elrohir had provided. Even at the distance he could feel the heat that streamed from Legolas intensify around his leg. As gently as he could, he cut away the leggings. He sensed his son´s eyes on him and battled to keep his features impassive, but from what he could see the leg had been broken in multiple places. It was practically one big bruise from the knee down, and while no bone had cut through the skin it was obvious the pieces had moved and stood at a slight angle to each other now, undoubtedly causing further injury within. There was no way of telling whether the once so agile young archer would keep his leg, and the thought caused the experienced healer almost physical pain.
"Adar?" Elrohir´s unasked question clouded the fire´s bright light, but Elrond chose to ignore it for the moment. "There is little I can do for him here", he said calmly, "I will have to set the bones when I have better supplies at my disposal. For now, we have to ease the infection and drive back the fever. Let us make sure he cannot move the leg around too much." The younger twin´s face turned grave, for even without words he read his father´s implications only too well. Still, he took only a heartbeat to recover and the two healers went to work, oblivious to almost anything around them. The horses stood guard at the cave´s mouth, their ears pricked and their posture tense.
The world narrowed around the two elves as the worked silently, carefully arranging rolled blankets around the wounded leg to minimise movement, then cleaning and tending the multiple gashes and tears. Erlond stitched close the gaping stab wound and then left the smaller ones to his son, preparing various ointments and salves that would seal the wounds and drive back infection. They had placed wet cloths on Legolas´ forehead and chest and changed them regularly, hoping to lower the fever.
As time wore on, the wounded elf grew restless and started to move fitfully. He unsteady breaths began to hitch and his brow furrowed in distress, his whispered words not discernible. His voice was still so raw it was barely recognisable and Elrond frowned at this new symptom. He tenderly placed one hand on Legolas´ throat to feel for an injury, the other on his chest to still him. Sure that no ailment he had overlooked was causing this, Elrond began to speak soothingly but Legolas would not calm.
Suddenly, his eyes flew open and he tried to sit up, the wet cloth tumbling to the ground. Elrond caught him against his chest, holding him there, and Elrohir, having feared this, quickly grabbed his wounded leg just above the knee, the only place where it was fairly safe to touch it without causing more damage, and effectively immobilised it. Legolas´ wide eyes turned towards the mouth of the cave where the wind still howled through rain-soaked darkness. "Man anglenno?" //Who approaches?// he asked uncertainly, a mixture of pain and hope written across his pale face. "Uner anglenno"//Nobody approaches//, Elrond answered softly, even though it was obvious that Legolas hardly realized that he was there.
The tension in the wounded elf intensified and his hoarse voice rose, eyes never leaving the entrance of their small refuge. "Man teli? ""//Who comes?// Fear seemed to get the better of him now and Elrond was about to ask Elrohir to hold on to Legolas while he retrieved some herbs to put the distressed elf to sleep when suddenly his expression changed. His breath calmed and he relaxed into Elrond´s chest, though still gazing outside. The glazed blue eyes closed briefly and when they opened again, they were changed. Deeper and filled with anticipation.
Elrohir noticed the change and fearfully glanced at his father, silently begging an explanation, but the elf lord could only mutely shake his head. He had felt the difference, too, a subtle tremor that had brushed over the slightly shaking body he held, calming it. Elrond could not yet offer any guesses as to what had caused it. He was relieved that it seemed to have done the younger elf no harm but was unsettled nonetheless.
A sharp snort drew the attention of both father and son towards the horses. They were clearly reacting to something beyond the cave, shaking their heads and stamping their hooves nervously. Elrohir quickly rose, hoping that Legolas´ calm would hold, and drew his sword. He gestured the horses back and they obeyed silently, retreating to where Gwaef had moved in front of the still sleeping Aragorn. Elrond tensed, keeping his grip on the now still prince with one hand while reaching for his own weapon with the other.
Elrohir leaned close to the wall, melting into the shadow the flickering fire created there, and waited in perfectly held stance. The blade he kept above his head, ready to strike, caught the restless light which travelled along the sharp edge lovingly, touching it red as if in anticipation. The air drew close around them.
"Alaase, meldo-i-lwen." //Joy, my friends.// The light words, spoken in soft Quenya, caused Elrohir to sharply turn towards Legolas, staring at him in disbelief. Elrond let out an audible breath of surprise. Even though the voice, beneath its hoarseness, was still the one they knew to belong to Legolas, its intonation was different. There was a subtle change to it that had nothing to do with the language he used.
Almost dreamily, Legolas continued "Ya alantiéro ovalarauco, ná sí túla an elmen." //He once fell with the demon, yet now he returns to us.// Elrond´s heart quickened in hope at the words, and he stared at the wall of rain that still poured down in now more natural darkness, almost willing the tall shape to appear that his heart wanted to see. From the corner of his eye, he could see that Elrohir resumed his battle stance as if once again untouched by their friend´s mysterious words, but the father could easily see an anticipation in his son´s eager eyes that awaited nothing less but battle.
The lithe form disengaged itself from the darkness that clung to it like a wet cloak, its natural glow subdued. Soft words preceded it effortlessly. The slight mirth in them brought smiles to two tense faces, washing away the worried lines that had appeared there. "Le ortho magol-cin nin, tithen hin?" //You raise your sword [against] me, little one?// There was a clearly audible laugh, even though short. " Nasto anwar ingem maethor egor nirvo man apad." //Show respect [towards] an old warrior or face the consequences.//
Elrohir dropped the sword in a gesture that was suspiciously close to fright, bringing an even wider smile to Elrond´s face. The elf lord´s heart rose in joy when Glorfindel stepped into the cave, halting at the entrance to draw deep breaths. His sword was still clenched in his hand and he swayed slightly, taking Elrohir by surprise. The younger twin had never seen his skilful teacher in such a state, and he barely crossed the short distance between them in time to support the other.
Glorfindel accepted his support without comment, straightening, one hand on the younger one´s shoulder. He let his eyes travel over the cave calmly, nodding his approval to what he saw. "You found them", he said with satisfaction, "you made the sacrifice a noble one." A flicker of sadness crossed his face, his look turning to the still heavily breathing Faun, and Elrond understood his sorrow. Before the elf lord could find words of comfort, another spoke again.
"Aiya, macar taura, ta né lúme anda ." //Greetings, mighty warrior, it has been a long time.// Glorindel´s eyebrows rose when his gaze settled on Legolas´ pale face, gazing down searchingly. Elrond could feel another tremor run through the young prince, this one accompanied by a moan of pain, and he sensed the fear return. Legolas´ breathing quickened again, his heart taking up the frantic rhythm, and he gasped. He tried to twist from Elrond´s hold, jarring his leg when it moved against the blankets that surrounded it.
Far swifter than his state should have allowed, Glorfindel was on his knees beside the troubled elf, his hand gently touching his hot forehead. "Loré!" //Sleep!// His voice carried an authority that brushed even Elrond who was holding on to Legolas, passing by him with a wave of slight dizziness. He was relieved when he felt the wounded elf relax against him and he shot his friend a grateful glance. Unasked questions passed between them and Glorfindel held up his hand.
"The evil is repelled, if not destroyed, and we should use the peace for a night of resting. There is no wisdom in discussing delicate matters here." He sat back with a sigh, his eyes on the now sleeping Legolas. "Much healing has yet to be done, and councils will have to wait." Elrond opened his mouth to reply, worry in his eyes, but Glorfindel cut him short again, a soft smile on his lips. "I am well, mellon-nin, merely tired and saddened. Keep your energies for the young prince, he is in more dire need."
With those words, the blond elf rose to his feet slightly less gracefully than usual and made his way to Faun. Picking up some healing supplies and talking softly, he busied himself taking care of the horse. Elrond watched him for a moment, well aware that the healing went both ways. Glorfindel had held his steed close to his heart and her loss might be softened by another life saved. Sudden weariness passing through him, Elrond settled Legolas back down and prepared for a long night.
TBC
Now, how was that? Another soft (well, almost) ending... Don´t worry, the real cliffhangers will be back.
Review responses:
MoonMist: Yes, go and hug him, he needs it! And thank you so much ;-)
White Wolf1: Welcome back! I hope you had a nice vacation. Sorry Glorfindel did not get too much action yet (not that we could see, at least), but this tale is far from over...
Amy: Thanks, glad you liked the poem. And the updates are due to a seriously dangerous poltbunny that happily chews away at my leg every day I do not write ;-)
Alariel: Such good guesses - you give me new ideas, you know. You are really cose...
Candidus-lupus-full Moon: Thanks!!
Red Tigress: You could have donated some blood for Legolas, too, I think he´d gladly accept it ;-) And yes, Faun is still around!
Tychen: Seems like that customer of yours should have been dipped into the evil lake - or maybe that terrible person came from there?!? And well, Aragorn gets his share of the pain now and again, sorry he´s sort of absent from this chapter (he´ll be back next one)
NightShadow131: Hey, I don´t mind that you overlooked one chapter, two reviews for the price of one ;-) Yes, for now they really are safe - amazing, isn´t it? (Go, Glorfindel!!) But that peace won´t last forever...
Someone Reading: Don´t envy my Elvish, a real elf would possibly choke on his laughter if he read this - I´m doing my best with three dictionaries ;.) And you are right about Elrohir, I feel he takes after his father in many ways.
Estel Elven Enchantress: Here, here, don´t cry. See, I got some help for Faun! I´m happy that you enjoy the story so much!
Ertia: Me? Kill Glorfindel?! And have an immortal Elven soul haunt me at night? No way - not in this chapter, at least ;-) Enjoy your chocolate!
Deana: LOL Happy to make you happy! I´m glad we talked not long ago, else I might have been worried for your health!
THANK YOU!! It is always a joy to read your responses!
Here´s more to read for you - a bit of a breather, though not really for Legolas... But still, some relief should spread after this one, just don´t feel too safe!
Thanks again for your wonderful reviews! Responses below - and PLEASE keep them up.
Now enjoy!
Alinah
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: So far from mine (too bad)
Warriors´ meeting
Elrohir could feel a warm touch graze his back and the soothing scent of athelas gently stole its way around him. He held on for a moment, inhaling. "Thuio antaig"//Breathe deeply// he encouraged the unresponsive elf in his arms, but nothing changed about the sharp, shallow way Legolas drew in air. The prince´s unnatural heat formed a stark contrast to the friendly warmth the fire in the cave spread out towards them.
Relieved though he had been that he had managed to calm Legolas initial panic, Elrohir had grown more and more concerned for his friend. He had applied a provisional splint to the injured leg and to his dismay Aragorn´s assessment that it was badly broken had proven an understatement. The leg had been swollen and hot, and Elrohir was sure that deep stab that had pierced Legolas´ thigh had done nothing to improve his condition. His senseless flight through the tunnel had added several cuts that were not dangerous in themselves but would weaken the battered body more. Elrohir was glad to know that his father would soon be there to treat the injuries, his preparations obvious by the sweet scent that encircled them, and the younger twin gently hefted his burden up again, resting the blond head against his shoulder, and crawled on.
In the cave, Elrond picked up his head when he heard his son move again. He had prepared everything as well as he could under the circumstances. Aragorn was sleeping deeply now, his wounds dressed and the sweet scent of the healing herbs easing his breathing. The elf lord had started a small fire and laid out herbs and bandages next to the blankets he had spread on the floor. Knowing that it would be a few more moments before he could relieve Elrohir from his burden he approached Faun.
He had asked the four healthy horses to stand guard by the cave´s mouth, and he could not bite back a small smile when he saw his own and the twin´s steeds stand still as statues, all their senses turned outward as they followed his request with utmost serenity. Gwaef, however, was looming over Faun protectively, head turned towards the fire, his eyes never leaving Aragorn. He made room for the elf lord as he drew nearer.
The grey stallion lay crumbled against a wall, his sides heaving. Blood soaked his light coat where he had been stabbed, and the hilt of a knife still stuck from the base of his neck. Elrond recognised the weapon but refused to be unsettled by the sight, even though the very idea of Legolas hurting his beloved horse like this seemed utterly absurd. He knew he had little time before the steed´s master would claim his full attention, but he was prepared to aid the animal as much as he possibly could.
He approached carefully, well aware how dangerous a wounded stallion could be, and spoke to him under his breath. "Dinen, Faun, dinen, alrhinc. //Be still, Faun, be still, don´t move.// The sensitive ears turned in his direction at the sound, and Elrond could feel the large eyes following his moves even though there was no strength left in the horse to lift his head. A very low nicker found its way from the rattling lungs and the elf felt his heart sink in pity. Even before he had laid a hand on the beast he could feel the battle that raged within it. The black wings of death lingered close by, but Faun´s spirit had not yet faltered.
Very slowly, the healer placed the small bowl with steaming water close to the grey head and the nostrils flared as the animal tried to draw in the easing aroma. Elrond reached out with his now free hand, trailing it in a tender gesture over the bent neck towards the still bleeding wound, allowing the horse to know where he was going. He felt the faintest twitch of muscles beneath his fingers and wished he would not have to hurt Faun further, but if he kept losing his life at this rate he would surely be dead within the hour.
Swiftly, Elrond pressed a cloth he had drenched in a mixture of herbs on the wound and held it there for a long moment, hoping to still the bleeding. The direct contact lengthened the dark shadows he could feel gathering around the animal. There was little reaction from Faun to the pain, and the elf found himself looking away from the sorrowful sight to gaze out into the storm. Even though occupied with the wounded, he had felt the deadly threat outside diminish, if not disappear entirely, and uncertainty build up inside him. There was no sign of Glorfindel as yet, not even a distant sound of hoofbeats.
"Adar!" The urgent call made Elrond push his fears away and he turned away from both the cave´s entrance and the horses, leaving two battles he could not aid to join the one that was meant for him.
Elrohir had straightened painfully, covered in dust and blood, and swiftly carried Legolas towards the fire. He placed him on the blankets with utmost care even though his arms trembled from exhaustion. Elrond could see his son´s eyes glow with dark fear, and taking in the wounded elf in clear light for the first time he more than understood the worries. If he had not seen Legolas with his own eyes only a few days ago, he would have believed him to have lived under the most dire circumstances for a prolonged period of time.
The usually slim archer had lost an impossible amount of weight in so short a time, looking close to death of starvation. Under all the grime and blood that covered him his bones cut out sharply, defining his features to the point of turning them into a mask. The pale skin, where it was unmarked, carried a sickish white glow that had nothing to do with the natural light of the elves and it was stretched out so tightly that it looked fragile, ready to rip. Many of the cuts looked fresh and Elrond had heard enough to guess what had happened in the tunnel, yet he immediately turned his attention to the one visible injury that did not bleed, ignoring even the soaked bandage around the younger elf´s thigh.
Picking up his knife, he undid the splint Elrohir had provided. Even at the distance he could feel the heat that streamed from Legolas intensify around his leg. As gently as he could, he cut away the leggings. He sensed his son´s eyes on him and battled to keep his features impassive, but from what he could see the leg had been broken in multiple places. It was practically one big bruise from the knee down, and while no bone had cut through the skin it was obvious the pieces had moved and stood at a slight angle to each other now, undoubtedly causing further injury within. There was no way of telling whether the once so agile young archer would keep his leg, and the thought caused the experienced healer almost physical pain.
"Adar?" Elrohir´s unasked question clouded the fire´s bright light, but Elrond chose to ignore it for the moment. "There is little I can do for him here", he said calmly, "I will have to set the bones when I have better supplies at my disposal. For now, we have to ease the infection and drive back the fever. Let us make sure he cannot move the leg around too much." The younger twin´s face turned grave, for even without words he read his father´s implications only too well. Still, he took only a heartbeat to recover and the two healers went to work, oblivious to almost anything around them. The horses stood guard at the cave´s mouth, their ears pricked and their posture tense.
The world narrowed around the two elves as the worked silently, carefully arranging rolled blankets around the wounded leg to minimise movement, then cleaning and tending the multiple gashes and tears. Erlond stitched close the gaping stab wound and then left the smaller ones to his son, preparing various ointments and salves that would seal the wounds and drive back infection. They had placed wet cloths on Legolas´ forehead and chest and changed them regularly, hoping to lower the fever.
As time wore on, the wounded elf grew restless and started to move fitfully. He unsteady breaths began to hitch and his brow furrowed in distress, his whispered words not discernible. His voice was still so raw it was barely recognisable and Elrond frowned at this new symptom. He tenderly placed one hand on Legolas´ throat to feel for an injury, the other on his chest to still him. Sure that no ailment he had overlooked was causing this, Elrond began to speak soothingly but Legolas would not calm.
Suddenly, his eyes flew open and he tried to sit up, the wet cloth tumbling to the ground. Elrond caught him against his chest, holding him there, and Elrohir, having feared this, quickly grabbed his wounded leg just above the knee, the only place where it was fairly safe to touch it without causing more damage, and effectively immobilised it. Legolas´ wide eyes turned towards the mouth of the cave where the wind still howled through rain-soaked darkness. "Man anglenno?" //Who approaches?// he asked uncertainly, a mixture of pain and hope written across his pale face. "Uner anglenno"//Nobody approaches//, Elrond answered softly, even though it was obvious that Legolas hardly realized that he was there.
The tension in the wounded elf intensified and his hoarse voice rose, eyes never leaving the entrance of their small refuge. "Man teli? ""//Who comes?// Fear seemed to get the better of him now and Elrond was about to ask Elrohir to hold on to Legolas while he retrieved some herbs to put the distressed elf to sleep when suddenly his expression changed. His breath calmed and he relaxed into Elrond´s chest, though still gazing outside. The glazed blue eyes closed briefly and when they opened again, they were changed. Deeper and filled with anticipation.
Elrohir noticed the change and fearfully glanced at his father, silently begging an explanation, but the elf lord could only mutely shake his head. He had felt the difference, too, a subtle tremor that had brushed over the slightly shaking body he held, calming it. Elrond could not yet offer any guesses as to what had caused it. He was relieved that it seemed to have done the younger elf no harm but was unsettled nonetheless.
A sharp snort drew the attention of both father and son towards the horses. They were clearly reacting to something beyond the cave, shaking their heads and stamping their hooves nervously. Elrohir quickly rose, hoping that Legolas´ calm would hold, and drew his sword. He gestured the horses back and they obeyed silently, retreating to where Gwaef had moved in front of the still sleeping Aragorn. Elrond tensed, keeping his grip on the now still prince with one hand while reaching for his own weapon with the other.
Elrohir leaned close to the wall, melting into the shadow the flickering fire created there, and waited in perfectly held stance. The blade he kept above his head, ready to strike, caught the restless light which travelled along the sharp edge lovingly, touching it red as if in anticipation. The air drew close around them.
"Alaase, meldo-i-lwen." //Joy, my friends.// The light words, spoken in soft Quenya, caused Elrohir to sharply turn towards Legolas, staring at him in disbelief. Elrond let out an audible breath of surprise. Even though the voice, beneath its hoarseness, was still the one they knew to belong to Legolas, its intonation was different. There was a subtle change to it that had nothing to do with the language he used.
Almost dreamily, Legolas continued "Ya alantiéro ovalarauco, ná sí túla an elmen." //He once fell with the demon, yet now he returns to us.// Elrond´s heart quickened in hope at the words, and he stared at the wall of rain that still poured down in now more natural darkness, almost willing the tall shape to appear that his heart wanted to see. From the corner of his eye, he could see that Elrohir resumed his battle stance as if once again untouched by their friend´s mysterious words, but the father could easily see an anticipation in his son´s eager eyes that awaited nothing less but battle.
The lithe form disengaged itself from the darkness that clung to it like a wet cloak, its natural glow subdued. Soft words preceded it effortlessly. The slight mirth in them brought smiles to two tense faces, washing away the worried lines that had appeared there. "Le ortho magol-cin nin, tithen hin?" //You raise your sword [against] me, little one?// There was a clearly audible laugh, even though short. " Nasto anwar ingem maethor egor nirvo man apad." //Show respect [towards] an old warrior or face the consequences.//
Elrohir dropped the sword in a gesture that was suspiciously close to fright, bringing an even wider smile to Elrond´s face. The elf lord´s heart rose in joy when Glorfindel stepped into the cave, halting at the entrance to draw deep breaths. His sword was still clenched in his hand and he swayed slightly, taking Elrohir by surprise. The younger twin had never seen his skilful teacher in such a state, and he barely crossed the short distance between them in time to support the other.
Glorfindel accepted his support without comment, straightening, one hand on the younger one´s shoulder. He let his eyes travel over the cave calmly, nodding his approval to what he saw. "You found them", he said with satisfaction, "you made the sacrifice a noble one." A flicker of sadness crossed his face, his look turning to the still heavily breathing Faun, and Elrond understood his sorrow. Before the elf lord could find words of comfort, another spoke again.
"Aiya, macar taura, ta né lúme anda ." //Greetings, mighty warrior, it has been a long time.// Glorindel´s eyebrows rose when his gaze settled on Legolas´ pale face, gazing down searchingly. Elrond could feel another tremor run through the young prince, this one accompanied by a moan of pain, and he sensed the fear return. Legolas´ breathing quickened again, his heart taking up the frantic rhythm, and he gasped. He tried to twist from Elrond´s hold, jarring his leg when it moved against the blankets that surrounded it.
Far swifter than his state should have allowed, Glorfindel was on his knees beside the troubled elf, his hand gently touching his hot forehead. "Loré!" //Sleep!// His voice carried an authority that brushed even Elrond who was holding on to Legolas, passing by him with a wave of slight dizziness. He was relieved when he felt the wounded elf relax against him and he shot his friend a grateful glance. Unasked questions passed between them and Glorfindel held up his hand.
"The evil is repelled, if not destroyed, and we should use the peace for a night of resting. There is no wisdom in discussing delicate matters here." He sat back with a sigh, his eyes on the now sleeping Legolas. "Much healing has yet to be done, and councils will have to wait." Elrond opened his mouth to reply, worry in his eyes, but Glorfindel cut him short again, a soft smile on his lips. "I am well, mellon-nin, merely tired and saddened. Keep your energies for the young prince, he is in more dire need."
With those words, the blond elf rose to his feet slightly less gracefully than usual and made his way to Faun. Picking up some healing supplies and talking softly, he busied himself taking care of the horse. Elrond watched him for a moment, well aware that the healing went both ways. Glorfindel had held his steed close to his heart and her loss might be softened by another life saved. Sudden weariness passing through him, Elrond settled Legolas back down and prepared for a long night.
TBC
Now, how was that? Another soft (well, almost) ending... Don´t worry, the real cliffhangers will be back.
Review responses:
MoonMist: Yes, go and hug him, he needs it! And thank you so much ;-)
White Wolf1: Welcome back! I hope you had a nice vacation. Sorry Glorfindel did not get too much action yet (not that we could see, at least), but this tale is far from over...
Amy: Thanks, glad you liked the poem. And the updates are due to a seriously dangerous poltbunny that happily chews away at my leg every day I do not write ;-)
Alariel: Such good guesses - you give me new ideas, you know. You are really cose...
Candidus-lupus-full Moon: Thanks!!
Red Tigress: You could have donated some blood for Legolas, too, I think he´d gladly accept it ;-) And yes, Faun is still around!
Tychen: Seems like that customer of yours should have been dipped into the evil lake - or maybe that terrible person came from there?!? And well, Aragorn gets his share of the pain now and again, sorry he´s sort of absent from this chapter (he´ll be back next one)
NightShadow131: Hey, I don´t mind that you overlooked one chapter, two reviews for the price of one ;-) Yes, for now they really are safe - amazing, isn´t it? (Go, Glorfindel!!) But that peace won´t last forever...
Someone Reading: Don´t envy my Elvish, a real elf would possibly choke on his laughter if he read this - I´m doing my best with three dictionaries ;.) And you are right about Elrohir, I feel he takes after his father in many ways.
Estel Elven Enchantress: Here, here, don´t cry. See, I got some help for Faun! I´m happy that you enjoy the story so much!
Ertia: Me? Kill Glorfindel?! And have an immortal Elven soul haunt me at night? No way - not in this chapter, at least ;-) Enjoy your chocolate!
Deana: LOL Happy to make you happy! I´m glad we talked not long ago, else I might have been worried for your health!
THANK YOU!! It is always a joy to read your responses!