Chapter Two Aftermath & Aftershocks

He tried to open his eyes, but to no avail. There was only darkness. Elrond smelled the staleness of blood but also tasted it on his lips when he flicked his tongue out to moisten them. He coughed when dust hit his face and he tried to rub it away only to come back sticky. Attempting to raise he fell back with a cry when a sharp pain flew up his back. Gingerly, he shifted his weight off his left side, and sighed in relief when he started to feel his arm again.

He used his right arm to feel around him but felt only crumpled rock and debris. He heard shifting and movement causing him to open his one good eye and peer upwards. However he was met with a faceful of dirt as the building above him shifted a bit. Remembering the events from earlier, he sat up and cried out sharply when his back tightened and cracked.

Elrond fell back to the earth and he used his hands to feel for his injuries. He knew that he had a few broken ribs, making his breathing laboured. His arm was badly sprained, and his head throbbed from a large goose egg. He slowly raised himself onto his elbows and glanced down with his good eye and saw the horribly twisted leg. His right leg stood at an odd angle, and he could see the bone protruding from his pants.

Moaning from the bile that rose in his throat, he pushed himself up carefully. Ripping the sleeve off his robes he bound it tightly to his leg above the fracture. With the skill of a healer, he gritted his teeth and shoved his leg into the right position. Once his leg was once again in its rightful place he fell back into the dirt sweating. He coughed as more dust fell into his face, and he lay there wondering what had happened to cause the earth to split.

Something pushed onto his chest, preventing him from taking in deep breaths. He tried to sit up but he couldn't move. Opening his eyes gingerly, he noticed a large branch holding him to the ground. Stunned into wakefulness, he tried to push himself out from under it, but despite himself he it wouldn't budge. No matter how hard he pushed he couldn't release himself from the trees clutches.

Galathil lay motionless. His chest hurt, and he knew it was from more then just the crushing tree; his ribs were broken. He glanced around him but he couldn't see anything. Just bushes and the tree. Groaning, he tried once again to push himself free but after grunting and growling like a feral animal, he gave up and lay there snarling in frustration.

He felt as if he were flying. He tilted left and he swung left, but if he moved right it hurt. 'Strange.' He thought to himself. 'Flying shouldn't hurt.' He opened his eyes, and then closed them tightly at the sight that greeted him. Below him there was nothing but air, but further down there was rock, sharp jagged rocks, and the river. He opened his eyes carefully, fearing if he opened them too fast, he would meet the ground. The sound of tearing cloth caused his to lift his head then cry out fearfully as his pant leg slowly gave way on a jagged piece of marble. His whole right side ached, his saw his arm hang limply. He was upside down hanging there carelessly, slowly swinging back and forth. Using his left hand, he tried to reach the rock face beside him but it was too far. He felt jolts of pain run up and down his body when he moved the smallest little bit. He felt tears fill his eyes, as his mind suddenly comprehended what had happened. "RO!" He cried out frantically. He twisted so he faced the sheer rocks below him, searching anxiously for signs of his brother.

"ELROHIR!" He screamed into the air. No answer greeted him. He did not stop searching with his eyes, just dangled there. Another rip caused him to catch his breath nervously. "Ro." He whispered breathlessly. "Oh, please answer me. Ada! Nana!" He whispered, tears falling onto his forehead. He sniffled, but remained still as another rip caused his skin to crawl with fright.

He crawled out of the crumpled stables pushing aside broken wood, and pieces of rock. He glanced up and caught his breath sharply. His heart lunged painfully at the sight that met his eyes. Everything lay in ruins. The great house, he closed his eyes. "No." He whispered. Limping against the gash on his leg, he headed towards the Last Homely House. Pausing beside a slab of stone, he felt his heart lurch into his throat. Swallowing against the tears that threatened to emerge, he knelt and felt for a pulse on the small neck. There was none. He buried his head in his hands and prayed to the Valar for strength. Finally the tears came, and slipped unnoticed through his fingers into the dirt.

He was there the day his friend gave birth, and now this small child's fae was in the halls of Mandos. The loss of her child would bring grief to the family, and tear apart more lives, if they lived. Getting to his feet slowly, he proceeded towards the house, choking on his tears as he passed friends, more children, and death.

Her whole side hurt, she realized that she was lying on a piece of wood and at an odd angle. She turned over and felt the clothing beneath her. She gasped when she saw a pillar that had missed her by inches. The large grey marble slab was by her head. Moaning as she sat up she glanced around her fear gripping her heart. The walls were gone, and the place was a crumpled heap. She quickly scrambled to her feet, slipping on the loose stone and dust.

Celebrian glanced around for signs of her family. The fear that gripped her heart told her to worry but the reason in her mind told her to find them first before all else. She guided her steps carefully, using her hands for support on the broken walls and furniture around her. The ground was uneven, and was missing in places. Finally she found what used to be the doorframe, and stepped over the wooden door. Her slippers slipped on the polished marble, and tore a piece of her dress.

She felt her heart beat wildly at the thought of her children. Grief threatened to rise at the devastation and loss of hope around her, but she shook her head violently. Her family needed her to be strong. Valar, she needed to remain strong. The sound of coughing brought her head around sharply, and she cried out to who ever it was. She breathed in a sigh of relief. She had found someone at least.

She scrambled over to the former hall, and looked down. "Elrond!" She cried into the darkness. His groan and whisper of her name caused her to loose all dignity and she let the tears finally fall.

Her heart leapt into her throat when she was tossed to the side roughly. The ground moved and she cried out as the shaking progressed causing parts of the ground below her to fall. She gripped the iron spear that still hung on its mounts and prevented her to fall, but she felt her heart rip when an agonizing cry from below reached her ears.

"ELROND!"

The balcony, which he hung from, dropped, and he cried out in terror. His pants ripped more. The ground shook again and he whimpered praying for his Nana to find him. "No more, please." He closed his eyes tightly. "Please stop. Daro." He wimpered.

The balcony shuddered and dropped again. Finally the ground ceased its shaking and he breathed in a sigh of relief. He slowly reached up with his right hand and gripped his leg, if he bent enough he could reach the ledge and maybe pull himself up. His left side was useless, nothing he did to convince it to work helped, so he let that side hang there. Glaring at it as he swung his fingers almost touched the iron rod that was bent below the ledge. Swinging again, his pants finally gave way, and he wrapped his fingers around the ledge as his legs dropped forcefully. His hand slipped and he dropped, the iron rod ripped through his skin, piercing his elbow. Crying out with intense pain, he bit his lip. The rod sliced through his arm right from the elbow and gripped his wrist in a deathlike grasp. He felt his eyes roll back and he lost consciousness.

Grunting from the weight of the tree, Galathil snarled at it. "Move, you son of an ork!" He was tired of the ground shaking, and he wanted to get the weight off him. "GET OFF ME!" He cried. He pushed against the tree, and felt himself move, but barely. Satisfied with his attempts, he continued his manoeuvres.

After wriggling like a fish on dry land, Galathil ceased his movements, sweating from his attempts. He smiled wanly at his progress. At least he had moved an inch from his current position. "Well by tomorrow night I shall have moved half way from below this blasted tree." Galathil growled, and continued to wriggle. Even against the pain and discomfort his chest was giving him, he used his hands to push against the bark, and his feet against the ground. He yelped sharply when his foot snapped from his attempts, he finally gave up.

Thranduil frowned at the juts in the ground as they proceeded towards Rivendell. 'Strange.' He thought. He stopped his horse and held up his hand signalling everyone to pause. The river before them raged flooding the ground on either side. It did not diminish like every other time they had visited. Shaking his head confused, he slipped off his horse and walked carefully towards the rivers edge. He felt his eyes widen at the ground on the other side of the river.

He shouted to his men and pointed across the river showing them the crevasses and turned earth. "I want you to find another way across Bruinen, I will search in this direction."

"My lord, we will not allow you to proceed on your own."

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at the youthful guard. He smiled inwardly at the nervous swallow. "Must I ask you again?"

The guard quickly shook his head and shouted a command that half of them search left and the others accompany the King to the right.

Thranduil ignored the whispers of his party as he sprinted to the right searching for a way across. Something had happened in Rivendell and he was not looking forward to whatever greeted his eyes when they finally found a way across.