Chapter Eight Confusing Awareness
Glorfindel sat back moments later, pulling his friend out of the rubble. Elrond was injured, but not so seriously so that he couldn't be of assistance to those who were in dire need of his ministrations. Even if Elrond had been on his deathbed, his need and devotion to his people would not keep him detained from helping those around him.
Glorfindel noticed a large goose egg on the healer's forehead, and touched it lightly. A hiss caused him to smile. His friend was near waking, and felt pain. 'This is good.' The golden haired elf thought silently.
"Wake, my friend. There are those who need your assistance." Glorfindel whispered.
The head nodded briefly and one eye opened, revealing a glazed blue eye. "How long have I been out?" Elrond asked, closing his eye and taking a deep breath.
"Long enough." The reply did not come from Glorfindel, and caused the golden haired elf to look over his shoulder at the one who spoke.
"Gandalf!" Glorfindel sighed relieved. Around the corner, partially hidden by the long grey cloak the wizard wore, came the healer's lady. "Milady. Are you well?" Glorfindel stood quickly rushing over to her. He took her arm gently and helped her over the loose stone and wood.
Celebrían nodded smiling despite the pain in her leg. She knelt beside her husband and took his hand gently. "Elrond?"
A smile passed across his face. "Hello, my love." He whispered. Elrond opened both his eyes and looked at her intently. "How do you fare?"
"Better then you." She lightly smacked his arm. "You frightened me out of my wits. When you did not answer me, I thought I had lost you." She balled her fists and tapped his shoulder.
Smiling with mock hurt, Elrond attempted to sit up. Glorfindel quickly aided him. "I am well, Celebrían. A few bruised ribs, sore leg, but I live."
Muttering under his breath, Glorfindel frowned. "Bruised ribs? Aye, and I am a dwarf!"
Elrond glared at him. Suddenly, Elrond's face changed from one of happy smiling reunion to one of dread. He glanced at his wife, before whispering. "The twin's?"
Celebrían shook her head. "We have not found them yet." She allowed her eyes to meet Elrond's and he saw tears well up in them. Worried, he pulled her into a tight hug and rubbed her back looking at Glorfindel and Gandalf over her shoulder. "Do not worry, we will find them."
Gandalf walked forward, and whispered. "Elrond, it is time for you to pull forth Vilya and learn to use it."
Looking up quickly, he narrowed his eyes. "Not until my son's are found." He hissed between clenched teeth.
"More devastation and destruction will befall this peaceful realm if you do not wield the ring." Gandalf frowned.
"I know its powers, Gandalf. The ring of air will remain locked in its chest, until my children are found."
Shaking his head angrily, Gandalf raised his voice slightly. "You only know its powers with the aid of Nenya, you have yet to wield the full power of this ring."
"Gandalf." Elrond warned. "I will be more then willing to hear your words, but not until the twin's are found."
"Elrond." Gandalf started but was silenced when Elrond raised his hand. Shaking his head in fury, Gandalf nodded. "When your son's are found and you have healed then we will discuss this further. There is evil now in this realm, and it must be vanquished."
Nodding in understanding, Elrond pushed himself to his feet slowly, hissing in pain when he planted his feet firmly on the ground. "Now, where were the boy's when this quake started?"
Thranduil tended personally to Figwit's wounds, while his own healer was aiding those within the walls of the house. The long gash on the elf's leg was now bound tightly, and his leg looked over quickly.
"That should do it until we see Elrond." Thranduil smiled briefly.
"Elrond will have his hands full without having to worry over me. I will heal quickly." Figwit protested.
"Promise me you will see him once the seriously injured have been tended." Thranduil narrowed his eyes at the youthful elf.
Nodding his head, Figwit agreed. "You have my word."
Thranduil glanced over at the other litter where Galathil was now laying back. The elf's arm was covering his face, and appeared to be in some pain. Standing, the Mirkwood king walked over and lifted the elf's arm. "How are you?"
Blinking his eyes against the light, he attempted a smile. "I was fine until I laid flat. The pressure on my chest is almost too much for me to bear." He knew better then to lie to the king, Thranduil was skilled enough to know when one was giving false testaments. Nodding his head, Thranduil helped the elf into a sitting position.
"Let me have a look at those ribs." The king sighed.
Galathil took a deep breath once he was sitting upright, and half grinned at the king, but winced when his ribs were touched. "Gently." He hissed.
Nodding, the king fingered the several broken ribs the warrior held. Dark bruises covered the elf's chest signalling six or more cracked ribs, and one broken. "Do not move too much, this broken rib is in place of puncturing a lung if you are not careful." The king muttered.
Growling, Galathil nodded his head in frustration. "I suppose fighting is out of the question then?"
Raising his eyebrow, Thranduil looked up. "Who would you fight?"
Shrugging, Galathil chuckled before wincing.
They glanced over to the window where the king's healer had jumped. There had been no word from within, and this caused the elves on the ground worry. "Do you suppose everything is alright in there?"
Thranduil looked at Galathil briefly before standing and walking over to the window. He unclasped his formal robes and shrugged them off with a faint sigh of relief when it fell off his shoulders. Now clad in only a light tunic and his leggings, Thranduil lifted his tall frame into the window. He gasped slightly at the sight before him.
His old friend, Erestor was seated beside his healer Suiren who was deep in a healers slumber. Thranduil had never seen this new young charge so intent on healing. Walking forward, Thranduil felt his heart tighten when he caught sight of the child Suiren was concentrating on. It was Lord Elrond's son.
The king gasped. "What happened?" Catching Erestor's eye.
Shaking his head putting a finger to his lips, Erestor glanced back down at the child. Thranduil knelt beside them and took the child's limp hand in his. To his horror, the child's hand was icy cold. He added his other hand and began rubbing it to warm it up. The king kept his eye on the child's face while doing this and saw no movement or improvement.
Elrond's son was deathly pale, his face slightly ashen, lips blue, and rapidly breathing despite the seemingly lack of air the elfling drew in. Thinking back on his own family, he felt his face fall. This child was in dire need of his father's healing abilities. Thranduil felt a growl emanate in the back of his throat and he stood up furiously. He would not allow this child to die. Stumbling out of the room, the king of Mirkwood began his search to find Elrond.
With the aid of his friend, Elrond was helped out of the small cramped space. Glancing around him at the ruins that were once his home, Elrond gripped his wife's hand tightly. Footfalls caught his attention and he called out. The racing feet stopped suddenly and now grew louder heading towards their location.
Gandalf whispered. "Thranduil comes."
Elrond glanced at his quickly before calling out again. Looking above him through the hole, he saw the distinguished blonde head peer over the side. "Thranduil." Elrond nodded in greeting.
"You are needed, Elrond." Thranduil caught sight of Celebrían and bit his tongue.
"My first duty is that of a father." Elrond noticed the king's shift of eyes to his wife. Looking quickly at Glorfindel, Elrond whispered. "Lift me up."
Glorfindel frowned but refrained from comment and latched his hands together to lift Elrond to the king's waiting form. Thranduil saw this, and knelt lowering his hand quickly, before Celebrían could protest. He gripped Elrond's hand and lifted, quickly whispering to him. "Your son has been found. He is in need of your aid."
Pulled to the upper level, Elrond glanced down at the others. His wife glared at him, and he smiled. "I will go with Thranduil to find the boy's. You, Glorfindel, and Gandalf search down there."
"Elrond." Came his wife's warning.
Shaking his head firmly, he gritted his teeth. "It will be faster if we search different directions."
Without waiting for his wife's reply, Thranduil and Elrond headed towards the end of the hall. "Who did you find?"
Shaking his head, Thranduil led him towards the room where his own healer and Erestor were waiting. "Your son is seriously wounded. We must hurry." Turning the corner, Elrond caught sight of his councillor. Giving a cry of dismay, Elrond raced into the room and slid beside the prone figure on the ground. Cutting his knees as he slid on broken glass, and rock, he lifted his hand to the healer's shoulder.
The Mirkwood healer was deep within the healing and Elrond knew if he were to interfere immediately without making himself known, would cause the youth to loose himself. The power he felt emanate from Thranduil's healer caused him to frown. To go too deep in healing, the fëa would get lost within itself and never recover, this youth was getting too deep without knowing how powerful his healing abilities were.
Suiren felt the presence of another healer making himself known and he felt himself sigh in relief. Nodding his head, he allowed the other healer to lend his own abilities to his.
Elrond closed his eyes and fell into his healing solace, following the thin thread of his son's fëa. It was Elladan and he voiced it aloud. The injuries his son sustained were not serious enough to cause so much concentration. Furrowing his brows he searched within his son and felt the bonds of his twin's. Both were connected, and one was fading.
Thranduil sat down beside Erestor and silently watched Elrond and Suiren as they mixed their healing together. Elrond's face went ashen suddenly, and a hiss escaped his lips whispering Elladan. A small cry of dismay came seconds later, causing Thranduil to reach out to comfort his friend. A strong hand on his shoulder stopped him from interrupting the healing process.
"They are too deep, do not touch them. Something is amiss with Elrond's other son that is why they appear to be draining."
A whispered plea caused Thranduil and Erestor to look at the healer's. "You must find Elrohir!"
The king and councillor looked at each other once before getting to their feet quickly. Both raced to the window and jumped down in haste. Barking orders to his men, the King of Mirkwood ran past the two elves on litters and said nothing. Figwit and Galathil frowned, their eyes following Erestor and Thranduil until they were out of sight.
"What do you suppose?" Figwit whispered now alone with Galathil.
Shaking his head, the lesson's master rolled over onto his side and pushed himself upright. "Only one way to find out." He grimaced against the pain in his chest.
"What are you doing?" Figwit gasped, raising his eyebrows.
"I am going to lend aid to those who need it. Coming?"
Nodding his head, Figwit rose from his litter and stood shakily. "Lead the way."
Galathil and Figwit slowly walked towards the direction the Mirkwood king and Erestor had taken. Together they went in search of the party, and willing to lend what aid they could.
Celebrían snarled when her husband disappeared on the floor above them. With every intention of following her husband, Glorfindel who pointed towards the small opening leading to the stairs restrained her. "Let us go this way. It is safer. You know that Elrond would only leave your side if it were urgent."
Nodding her head, she allowed herself to be guided by the golden haired elf beside her. Gandalf whispered to Glorfindel in the tongue of Gondolin, causing the elf lord to look at him startled. He had understood the wizard.
"Elrond goes to help his son's. Keep quiet about this as they are in danger."
Shaking his head trying to clear his mind, he frowned suddenly. How did he know that language? He didn't remember it being spoken, nor did he remember speaking it.
"Glorfindel of Gondolin, ease your thoughts." Gandalf's whispered words filled his head again.
Growling in frustration, Glorfindel narrowed his eyes at the grey wizard. "You know who I am?" He snapped his mouth shut when he realized he had spoken in the same tongue Gandalf had used. "You have much to explain, Mithrandir!" Glorfindel snarled.
Nodding his head, his only reply was. "You will learn much once things have settled here."
Celebrían watched the two who accompanied her silently. They were keeping something from her, and she couldn't remember hearing the words they spoke before. She continued walking as they argued but before she could slip off they rejoined her causing her to sigh frustrated. Celebrían hoped that everything would be all right, but she felt a heaviness enter her soul the closer to the top of the stairs she got. Something was wrong, she could feel it. As a mother she knew her children were hurt and needed her, and as a wife she felt the tension of her husband, and knew instantly that her children had been found.
Giving a startled cry she ran off into the direction her husband had disappeared in, ignoring the startled shouts behind her.
"Catch her, she must not be allowed to see what has befallen her son." Gandalf shouted in the tongue long unused in the world.
Sprinting, Glorfindel quickly caught up to the lady and restrained her. "Nay, milady. There are more urgent matters to attend to at the moment."
Shouting in rage, Celebrían kicked her feet and tried to free herself from the vice grip Glorfindel had on her. "Let me go!" She cried. "What are you hiding from me?" She roared.
Glorfindel shook his head. "Come."