Part 2: Son of My Lord... Thy Blood Pressure! Returns

Atop the Place of Elevation, resplendent in his gray robes and pointed hat (indeed! How long had it been rumored amongst the young Elves that the great wizards head came to a point at its crown, and thus was he forced to wear such an unusually-shaped cranium-cover) stood Mithrandir, the Gray pilgrim, rider of Shadowfax, He Who Had Some Part in Driving Sauron From Mirkwood, master of fireworks, distributor of the peace in the Shire, guide to Hobbit adventurers for many decades, also known as Gandalf.

"Good Mithrandir," said Elrond, emerging from whatever magical, Elven means was used to reach the Place of Elevation and hoping Mithrandir was indeed the name the wizard was using that day, "I would utter words to welcome you to the fair valley of Rivendell, but my Arwen hath disobeyed me and I fear soon I shall have to exert a minor display of magic in order to save her from a terrible death at the nonexistent hands of foul creatures."

"Then utter not, Elrond Peredhil," returned Gandalf the Gray, "for I shall utter in your stead and answer the question that thou hast not spoken. By the way, today I would like to be addressed as Hans. Now then, I have just fled the foul, black tower of Saruman, and pointy it was, with many sharp objects not suitable for Elflings under the age of 500. I solicited the help of the Dumbledore (big honkin' moth) known only to the Istari as Mr. Twiddles, and He of the Furry Antennae did fly upon the foul winds of Isengard to summon Gwahir, the gigantamous chicken who hath made my escape possible. Now, Lord Elrond, I am here to assist you I the rescue of the Halflings." With a large sweeping motion, Hans swept the hat from his head and with a sweep, handed it to Glorfindel.

"Lord of the Golden Hair," said Hans to the Elflord with the mass of gold and shiny growing atop his noggin, "take my hat and hold it in the hand at the end of thy arm so it will not interfere with my spellcasting. Grasp it with thy fingers, not some of them, but all of them, thy thumb in addition, not in both hands, but simply in one, for I would be upset if you damaged the brim." Glorfindel did as he was instructed, slightly disappointed, perhaps, that the great wizard's head did not come to a point, and the Elflord was slightly disillusioned from that point on to the other legends of Hans.

"And now, if I am not mistaken, which is entirely possible, for a wizard is never mistaken, nor is he correct, but is entirely unclear in his words to all he speaks to including himself, thy daughter doth ride across the river pursued by the nine, the Ringwraiths, the Nazgul, which, as you know, are all different names for the same foul servants of the Dark Lord.

Gazing out into the distance in the direction Hans pointed with his finger, which extended from his hand. Lord Elrond saw that though the words Hans had spoken were not incorrect, they were not entirely correct in nature, for not only had three of the nine taken flight to pursue his daughter, but three Ringwraiths accompanied them, and also three Nazgul, chasing with a scream of the sorts that emitted from the mouths of human women when a rodent of a small, gray nature scampers across the floor in pursuit of the cheese that a child carelessly let fall to the ground. As the Lord of Imladris and Hans watched with their eyes from the Place of Elevation, the voice of Arwen floated across the sapphire trees and emerald waters to the pointed ears of Elrond, and indeed! both of his ears heard the cry, for he had one on the left side of his head and one on the right side, and he did hear her voice with both of his ears. Arwen turned her stolen steed to face the creatures of doom, brandished her stolen sword Guemegil, and called out in clear words of Elvish:

"Daddy! I'm in trouble, save me!"
"Daddy! I'm in trouble, save me!"

And upon hearing the voice of his youngest and only daughter, Elrond summoned the river, and the river did answer his summons, swelling and crashing along its banks like a big, swollen, reckless object. Its waves decorated with the charging heads and forelegs of horses, for Hans had no talent for also animating the rear of the horse, and his sense of aesthetics did dominate over his sense of danger, else he would have assisted Elrond in the summoning of the waters. Angrily the river did bear down upon the Servants of the Dark Lord, sweeping them downstream for a hapless little village to fall prey to their foul swords once they washed up on shore like the half-drowned vermin, not fully-drowned vermin, for those would be incapable of attack, nor less-than-half-drowned vermin, for those would be too capable of attack, but half-drowned and only half-drowned.

After gaping at the water with an expression that showed she not only had no clue as to the immense power of her father, but had never even suspected there WAS a clue, Arwen Undomiel, who bore not the same surname as her father for reasons unbeknownst to all, dismounted the stolen steed Asfaloth, and after laying the sick and dying Hobbit with large feet known as Frodo upon the painfully sharp, rocky shore, proceeded to cradle him in her arms and cry. One tear at a time did the Lady Arwen cry, a single one falling from each eye, first the right, then the left, never more than two at once did fall, one from each eye at the same time, and dotted with wet dots like the pox did the hood of Frodo Baggins' Hobbit cloak become.

"No, my daughter!" cried Lord Elrond, "my foolish, disobedient daughter! Thy tears alone will not heal the Hobbit! Only when combined with powerful Elven medicine will they heal Frodo, but nay, truly thy tears will have no effect whatsoever, for they are merely water combined with salt, and the skill of the Elves alone may save his life." And leaning out as far as he dared lest he topple from the branches of the trees to the ground far below, for the Dell of Riven sat upon the ground and did not float in midair, Elrond gave a great yell in the direction of Arwen Undomiel, and words he did yell, and the words that he yelled very much were, "Arwen! Get that blasted Hobbit up here before I-"

"My lord… thy blood pressure!" cried Glorfindel.

--

Tired, exhausted, sleepy, and all washed out and hung up to dry, Lord Elrond emerged from the bedroom of Frodo Baggins, finished with a bout against the foul magic of he servants of the Dark Lord in which his Elven herb lore had won. Glorfindel poured a glass of wine and handed it to his lord, who looked as if he could use a good, stiff drink, but alas, Elves do not imbibe in any sort of alcoholic beverage save wine, and so would the Elven king drink that which had been handed to him.

"My lord," spake Pelo de Oro, "couldst thou possibly use thy knowledge of herbs, herbology, and herblore to concoct for thyself a mixture to lower thy blood pressure which I have been forced to remind thee of thrice today?"

A glare did Elrond shoot at Glorfindel, and swiftly did the Glare of Elrond fly to the other Elflord, a glare not malicious in nature, but of the sort that reminds the recipient of the glare that the sender has recently experienced much toil and stress and needeth no harassment at the moment to further stretch his already taut nerves.

"What of the council?" asked Elrond, using his mouth to speak the question as opposed to telepathy. "Have any of the guests who shall discover the threat of Mordor arrived in this fair country?"

"Several, my lord. Prince Legolas Greenleaf from the Wood of Mirk has entered with his companions whom thou hast requested attend. Alas, King Thranduil could not attend himself, and therefore he has sent his son in his stead. Several Dwarves have arrived also, from lands of which I do not know the location, and though I know not from where they hail, for it has never been mentioned, they are indeed here at the request of thyself and are currently knocking upon the stones and statues to make sure they are real and not an illusion; also, many insults have they thrown when they believe none of the Elvenkind are listening, insults that degrade the trees, plants, flowers, trees, bushes, vegetation, shrubs, and foliage."

"Attend to them, then," ordered the stressed and exhausted Elflord, waving in some direction with his hand and sending the sleeve that encased the arm in question billowing in a manner similar to that of a great flag. Inclining at the waist to lower the upper portion of his body and the head and arms that was attached to it and then seconds later raise it in the formal action known as a bow, Glorfindel hurried off to do as his lord had instructed him.

"Lord Father," came a soft voice from the corner. Elrond turned his head upon his neck to the left to see who had uttered the words, and seeing within his vision only Elladan and Elrohir, who had assuredly not uttered, turned his body a full ninety and fifty and forty degrees and looked to the direction that was previously his right but was now his left to view his daughter standing in the aforementioned corner waiting to address him.

"My daughter," said Elrond, turning his head left than right, then swiftly repeating the process in an action known as shaking one's head, "how couldst thou do such a thing? To harm the noble Glorfindel, steal his horse, and steal my sword, which hath been my most trusted weapon since the First Age." The Elflord clenched a fist and extended a finger, and brandishing the finger, which was not the last, nor the middle, nor the next-to-middle, nor even the thumb, but the one which he more often than not used to point, proceeded to waggle it dangerously up and down as he advanced upon his daughter.

"The deed that thou hast done is unforgivable!" Lord Elrond halted in his advance, and as he halted, lowered was his velocity and motionless did he become. "But since thou art my youngest and only daughter…." The Elflord spun on his heel, which was located opposite his toes upon his foot, and waved the aforementioned finger at Elladan and Elrohir. "I shall then place the blame upon m sons!" The twins, who were assumed to be related as such for they were born in the same year, looked upon their father with eyes that were both wide and astonished at the same time. "Thou shalt accompany Lord Aragorn in the future and aid him in his fight as thou once did for his father, Lord Arathorn." Behind Elrond, the Lady Arwen breathed a sigh of relief, and as she did sigh, the keen, pointed ears of Lord Elrond picked up on the sound, and he once again spun in half a circle to face his youngest child.

"Do not think that thou shalt survive this ordeal unscathed, Arwen. After what thou hast done, I shall not allow thee to marry Ellasar, not until he has become king of both Arnor and Gondor, not Gondor alone, nor Arnor alone, but both kingdoms of men and only both!"

"But Lord Father!" cried the Lady Arwen.

"Why dost thou address me as Lord Father?" inquired Elrond.

"Because as your daughter it would be improper for me to call you Lord Elrond," began Arwen, "but in my mind, it seems that Father alone doth hold less than a worthy amount of respect for thee and thy greatness, therefore, I have combined the two titles, and-"

"All right, my daughter, what dost thou desire?" inquired Elrond, knowing the politeness she exhibited could not be from respect alone.

"I wish to marry Lord Aragorn!" cried the Elf maiden yet again.

"Not until the requirements I place upon him have been met! Arwen, thanks to thy hasty actions, the ring of power almost fell into the nonexistent theoretical hands of the Enemy. Aside from that, the blood of humans and the blood Elves should never mix in a relationship. It defies the plans that Iluvatar set for our races upon our coming."

"But in thy bloodline runs the first elf slash human relationship!" argued Arwen.

"Thou shalt do as I say, not as my ancestors had foolishly done, for it is due to their folly that the great King Finrod fell to his death!" Upon remembrance of the noble Elf king of old, Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir reverently looked to the left.

"My lord!" With the words that he hath uttered several times already, the lord of the golden hair burst into the room, throwing the doors open with a loud, rather un-Elven bang and running with a swiftness that was born of having light Elven feet and wearing shoes instead of boots. "My lord, the dwarves! They – they are stomping upon the flowers!" And with these words, Glorfindel dropped his face into his hands, wincing upon remembrance of the bruise, and began to sob for the loss of the foliage beloved by all Elfkind.

Lord Elrond sighed and put a slender Elven hand to his aching head, for the Elflord was stressed and it was indeed beginning to show, but as the sound of raucous Dwarven voices floated in through the ornately carved windows, he removed the hand from his noble Elven brow, and drawing each of his fingers and his thumb in addition toward the center of his hand to form a fist, his slender Elven eyebrows drew together in a scowl, and in the direction of left did the Elflord glare, with devious thoughts of punishing the stress-inducing Dwarves.

"My lord… thy blood pressure!"