Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, or anything in common with it. Everything belongs to the Tolkien estate and New Line Productions, respectively.
"I found it!" Erestor called in a whisper. He gestured for Glorfindel to look between the trees near them. A full-grown stag stood proudly between the sturdy trunks, its antlers shining in the soft sunset light. The golden-haired elf smiled and crept noiselessly to his friend's side.
"Shall we take him?" Glorfindel asked quietly.
Erestor nodded, and Glorfindel strung an arrow to his bow, pulling back slowly until the bowstring was taut. Just as he was about to loose the arrow, something shot through the trees and broke his concentration. Whatever it was whizzed past him, stirring the air at his cheek, and struck Erestor. The advisor gave a cry and stumbled backward against a tree. The deer shied and disappeared into the forest.
Glorfindel dropped his bow and ran to Erestor. An arrow was sticking out of his chest, and the wound had begun to bleed. Glorfindel hastily ripped the arrow from Erestor's body and untied the laces on his tunic. The wound wasn't large, but it was deep.
Erestor's breathing had become rough and labored. "Is it bad?" he asked, his voice breaking.
"It could be," Glorfindel replied. He whipped off his cloak and tore some of the material off, fashioning it into a crude bandage. He picked up the arrow and studied it. "Orcs," he spat.
At that moment, a flurry of arrows hailed over them. Glorfindel slipped his arm under Erestor's and lifted the wounded Elf to his feet. They staggered into the woods, Glorfindel searching wildly for some sort of shelter. He would hear the orcs tramping through the brush behind them. Desperate, he laid Erestor down and drew his sword, felling a handful of orcs. Then, he picked Erestor up again, alarmed as he realized that the other Elf was unconscious. To the right he saw a cave and pulled Erestor's limp body through the narrow opening.
He gently lowered Erestor to the ground, wrapped in a cloak against the damp coolness of the cave. Then, exhausted, he fell against the stone wall and slid to his knees, his long fingers covering his face.
Night fell quickly, smothering all the sun's light, and with it came the rain. It fell softly at first, but it got louder, and a great crash of thunder made Glorfindel look up. His ocean-blue eyes gazed wearily at the sky's tears, and he brushed strands of silken gold from his face. Now he'd have to wait to return to Imladris when the storm let up.
Mentally exhausted, he crawled over to where Erestor lay and taking up his wrist, felt for his pulse. He sighed in relief and thanked the Valar. For a fleeting instant he had feared the Elf was dead.
Suddenly, a terrible thought gripped his mind. What if Erestor did die? He and Elrond's chief advisor were close friends, and had been for a very long time. Erestor was one of the factors in his life that kept him going. He was like a brother, and the two were always trying to find new things to do together. They spent a lot of time with each other, sometimes teaching the twins, sometimes arguing in a friendly way, sometimes just silently enjoying each other's company.
Glorfindel realized that if Erestor died, there would be no more evenings of idle chatter or days of hunting. And if any Elf knew about death, it was Glorfindel. Perhaps Erestor would be lost to the Hall of Mandos. Glorfindel felt tears pricking at the sides of his eyes. No. Erestor wouldn't die. He wouldn't let him. Resolutely, he gathered Erestor's limp frame up in his arms.
The golden-haired Elf stepped out of the shelter of the cave and into the drenching downpour. He gasped loudly as the icy curtains of rain suddenly pelted him, and pulled Erestor closer against himself. He set off toward Imladris at a dead run, the tearing winds and driving rain slicking back his long tresses, plastering his clothes to his body, but he paid no heed. Erestor's life hung in the balance, and his heart beat ever slower.
Then, after what seemed like centuries, ages, eons, the warm firelight of Imladris came into sight. He gave a hoarse shout of joy and made his way closer.
Elrond and Celebrian met him at the entrance, and quickly summoned healers. They carried Erestor off, saying the wound could have been fatal, that they'd returned in the nick of time. Glorfindel barely heard them as he fell, drained, into Elrond's outstretched arms. The Elven lord half-carried him to a couch.
Glorfindel murmured his thanks as Celebrian gently pushed his soaking hair from his face, sponged it with a warm cloth. As he began to slip into blissful, welcome sleep, he realized that one day he might return to Mandos. And there was no guarantee of his return if he did. He decided he would savor every day of his life with a new enthusiasm, that he would watch as the leaves fell in autumn, see the sun rise in the East each day, listen to birds and the trickle of waterfalls, remember and feel everything.
Until the last moment.
A/N: Mostly written 'cuz I felt bad about what I did to Glorfy in "A New Form of Torture", because he gets much worse. And I want to ask some questions, though:
#1- What do AU and OOC mean?
#2- What color is Erestor's hair?
#3- What color are Glorfindel's eyes?
If anyone can answer these, I'd be very grateful. And also, if you wish to review, please don't curse! I'd really appreciate it!