My Immortal
Fall Apart

Legolas was among those who found the wife of Lord Elrond after her ill-fated attack on the way home from Lothlórien. His investigation of the matter lands him into trouble, not to mention painful, haunting memories. (Heavy on Legolas and Elrond plots, non-slash)

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As the two Elves came unto the main entrance the great doors were already swinging open for the riders. There were voices of others outside calling for the horses to be handled and for the watch to be increased. Elladan was the first to come in, swift on his feet with an expression Elrond had never before seen upon the face of either of his sons. He was very afraid, this young Elf that was nearly reckless in his faith that nothing bad could befall them.

Behind him came Elrohir, slowly and with much the same expression as his brother displayed. They were rattled, shocked by whatever they had seen. Elrohir looked to the floor for a place to lay his bedroll, tossed it down in an unobtrusive spot and leaned against the wall, waiting. They were all waiting, Elrond realized, though only a mere span of seconds had passed since his arrival. The Prince of Mirkwood came beside him slowly, decorated in bruises and blood, looking as though he would collapse. Elrohir hovered there at his side, asking him if he were all right.

A small feminine moan removed all sounds, all sights and all observations from the forefront of Elrond's attention. Hearing it was like being jerked from a dream. He turned to his son and looked down into his arms at the shivering form of his wife. A sudden surreal horror crept into the moment as he beheld her wounds. There could be no doubt in his mind or in the mind of any other here that the author of this abuse was no Man, nor Elf, nor Dwarf. This was the work of irredeemable evil, of the creatures of Sauron.

Elrond stretched his arms out and accepted her into them, unable to tear his eyes away from her closed eyelids. "What happened?" he asked in a solid tone, knowing he must maintain an exterior of strength for all concerned. He looked into the face of his son for answers.

Elladan smoothed his sleeve across his cheek, wiping at some blood there. He shook his head as he watched his mother's troubled repose. "She was taken by orcs that have infested the Misty Mountains. Legolas was held with her for a time."

Only a brief look was spared to the young Elf whose eyes met Elrond's with sorrow. The Rivendell Lord's gaze silently asked all the questions his heart held, then flickered away as the he turned to bear his wife to his study. He did not look back to see who was coming with him as he carried her up the stairs with as much haste as he dared. Inside himself Elrond began to forge a barrier to keep his feelings at bay so he could do what lay ahead. He both welcomed and feared the spreading numb, but in any case knew it would be necessary in the beginning. He had to think right now even though underneath it all he was shaking.

The trip to his study seemed to take no time at all. They were there before it could hit him. The silence in the room was backdropped by the shuffle of feet and Celebrían's pained whimper as he laid her upon one of the couches by the fire. Undoing the cloak at her neck and pushing it off, he took a moment to do a preliminary scan of her body. The sky colored dress she had worn was ripped in many places, and made dark by dirt and blood. He took a moment to just look into her face, sliding his fingers tenderly down her cheek.

Above him a nursemaid came, having been called up by someone to tend the wounded Lady of Rivendell. She placed bandages upon the table beside him and raced away to another task, knowing her duties well. For all his learning Elrond felt almost lost at where to begin himself.

His hand seemed to lack feeling as it hit upon her shoulder, fingers curling around the tattered fabric as he shook her gently. "Celebrían?" he prodded, trying to rouse her. "Celebrían, lasto na hervenn lîn. Nuitho îdh lîn. Nuitho…1" His voice trailed off when she did not awaken.

He moved on, reaching for the torn opening of her dress. This was no time for modesty. He ripped the fabric down her, exposing undergarments saturated in blood. There was so much of it; scarlet that nearly replaced all the white. Her side had a gash painfully visible beneath a clawed tear in her clothes. He carefully peeled the blood-soaked cloth away, then ripped it open and off. When all the coverings had been removed, a chill spread through him. Bruises and cuts were everywhere, marring her thighs, her arms, her stomach. Her shoulder had been bitten.

"My Lord," Glorfindel said gently from above. "My lord, perhaps you should allow one of the other healers…"

"No!" Elrond's response cut into the seneschal's suggestion sharply. He reached for a cleaning rag that had been placed nearby, dipped it in a provided bowl of warm water and began the long work of mending his broken wife. He would apologize later, but right now all that mattered was her.

Two hour's work availed enough that Elrond could finally pause. She had awakened once, frightened and fighting until he calmed her with soothing words. Then she had given him such a look as would linger in his darkest memories for ages to come. He was not certain he wanted to know what she had suffered to cause such pain.

After stitches, pain healing herbs and stabilization, Elrond turned from her and sat his full weight upon the floor, leaning his back against the couch. He looked down at his hands and saw blood there. It covered his dusky-blue robes in a terrible contrast. Not that he would ever want to wear these clothes again, anyway. He dropped his hands to his lap and lifted his gaze to his eldest son, who stood at the door. "How is she?"

Elrond closed his eyes, tired mentally and emotionally. He was nearly afraid to speak, for the illusion would be broken and all that he held so carefully hidden would burst free. Gathering his composure, he forced the pain to forge strength in a certainty that drove his tone hard. "She will live."

Elladan gazed over his father, looking upon his mother with uncertainty and fear. And an edge. It was unmistakable in this one. Elladan would soon look for some sort of justice for this, if he could. Elrond gave him a stern look, knowing well what his son was thinking. The young Elf honored his father, but was willful. His expression was not one of deference.

The Lord of Rivendell shouldered the concern. Now was not the time. Careful to avoid getting blood on the carpet, he stood up and gave his wife a parting look before nodding to the nursemaid that waited by her side. He could not remain here right now, not with so many questions on his mind. Not with so much fear in his heart. "Tell me what happened," he said, taking up a place beside his son and urging him into the hallway.

They stopped there by the door and Elladan gave a glance down the hallway. "My brother and I searched well from the doorstep of home on to the Misty Mountains, but it was Elrohir's insight that Nana would not be found before the High Pass. So we went there with all haste. Elrohir was right. We found her in an orc nest beyond the Pass, being held by orcs. Rumil had tracked her there and aided us in the fight. We do not know much, but Legolas was with her."

Looking down the hall where his son had, Elrond asked, "Where is he?"

"He is resting, after having collapsed, Ada. Shall I take you there?"

Elrond nodded and they began. He wondered how a young prince of Mirkwood would come to be traveling with his wife. Did he have a purpose in Rivendell? "How is he?"

Elladan shook his head, his tone clinical and hard. "He is not well. Traveling was difficult for him, but he made it on Rumil's horse. The orcs apparently overpowered him." They came to a door where Elladan let go of his harsh tone. "Here. This is where he was taken. Elrohir is with him I believe."

Laying a hand on the doorknob, the elder nodded and turned. The room's sole source of illumination was the slight part in the drapes across from the bed. Elrond entered and remedied that so he could get a better look at the injured prince. As he pulled them further apart, Legolas of Mirkwood opened his eyes and attempted to sit, favoring his right arm. Approaching, the Elf Lord waved him back and took a chair beside him. "You look like you're in pain. Has my son left you unattended?" he asked mildly, seeing no sign of Elrohir.

Legolas shook his head. "Only for the moment, to inquire about his mother." He was a soft-spoken young Elf, Elrond recalled. He had only met him a handful of times and always Legolas had spoken with respect despite old contentions between King Thranduil and himself. The prince looked at him with genuine concern. "How is the Lady?"

Elrond felt another stab of reality; busied himself by examining the cuts marring the prince's face. "She is…stable," he replied in a strained tone as he slid his gaze down to the blood soaking the shoulder of the youth's hunting clothes. "Open your shirt if you can and I will tend you."

The Mirkwood Elf complied immediately, though he had a rough time of it. Elrond aided him and saw an ugly gash glaring out at him. The skin nearby was tender to the touch, causing Legolas to flinch at the examination. The silence seemed to resonate uncomfortably between them. Elrond had no idea why this young one had been with his wife and Legolas knew nothing he said could comfort the Lord of Rivendell. Still, he tried. "I…wish I had gotten there sooner. I am truly sorry." He winced as Elrond pressed near the gash again. There were wooden splinters in the torn flesh.

Elrond frowned and took his hand away, shaking his head. "I have my work cut out for me, I see." He stood up. "I will collect my supplies. When I return I would like to know what happened."

Legolas nodded gravely. "I will tell you all I know."

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Author: Ruse –

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings isn't mine and nor is Elrond, unfortunately, nor Legolas or Aragorn. No infringement intended.

Sindar:
1 - Celebrían, lasto na hervenn lîn. Nuitho îdh lîn. Nuitho… - Celebrían, listen to your husband. Stop your sleeping. Stop…
2 - Ada…Nana… - Father (Daddy), Mother (Mommy)

A/N: The second half of my prologue. ;) Thanks to all my reviewers! Means a bunch!