Here´s my next chapter. I intended to return to Legolas and Estel, but something (or rather someone) chose to make an early appearance, so please stay with me a bit longer. Next chapter you´ll meet them again, I swear.
Thanks to all who read and reviewed. You guys are the best ((hugs)). And of course, "thank you" to San for editing (she even demanded to know what happened to the "tree hugger" lol!).
Please be so kind and review, it is much appreciated.
Alina
Disclaimer: Not mine
Rating K+
Saviours
A roar filled the burning barn, the ruthless call of a wild beast ready to devour its prey. Elrohir finally felt his paralysis break and he stumbled backwards, wide eyes glued to the shrieking shower of flames and sparks that rushed at him far too swiftly to leave any possibility of escape.
Still moving desperately towards where he hoped the door to be, the elf closed his eyes against the biting smoke and tensed, preparing for the burning torment that would soon engulf him.
Instead, he felt an arm wrap around his waist and pull him sharply to the side. A wave of heat rushed past him and graced his left cheek, leaving a painful glow in its wake. He stumbled as he was being dragged into what his senses told him to be the middle of the flaming hell he had tried to escape, and he began to struggle against the grasp that held him. His panicked breaths sent more liquid fire into his lungs and he coughed painfully, blackness threatening to take away his last thready connection to reality.
No voice explained to him where he was being taken, no assurance could be heard above the angry yell of the fire as it screeched for its escaped victim. Instead, something wet and cool was thrown across his head, and despite his rising confusion, his breathing eased and the cruel pain in his lungs lessened. In his relief he ceased to fight his leader but followed numbly, registering only that debris hampered their escape as the intensity of the heat around them rose and fell like waves on the sea.
After what felt like an endless eternity Elrohir thought to hear elven voices through the hiss and cackle of the flames. The cloth around his head had warmed and lost much of its calming protectiveness, yet he sensed a slightly cooler draft tugging at his bare hands.
"Telo nev, telo nev, lhagr!" /Come here, come here, quickly/
The younger twin could feel his saviour pick up speed, but much of the other´s strength seemed to have waned in the heat and both stumbled, almost falling. His senses sharpening once more with the prospect of survival, Elrohir heard a crack above them that surpassed the fire´s noise and he instinctively reacted, pulling himself and the other to the left. The sudden movement took away the last balance the pair had maintained, sending them to the ground in a tumbled heap.
"Or len, or len! Ego, ego hi!" /Above you, above you! Away, away now/
Elrohir heard a muffled sound that sounded like a curse and then he felt the other grab him and pull him to his knees before giving him a violent shove. The elf fell more than crawled a few paces, whilst behind him a deafening roar sent fresh heat towards him.
The younger twin gasped and choked when a cloud of fiery torment wrapped around him, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving behind confused shouts and a bout of fresh air that was balm to his tortured body. Yet his mind screamed in worry. Elrohir raised himself to his knees and reached up with shaking hands to pull the cloth away form his head, desperate to see what had transpired.
Around him, sparks drifted and danced in the air, and licking flames shot up into open skies. The barn seemed to have disappeared, but when the elf moved his head he realized with a start that it was still there, a burning pit of boiling smoke and heat. Above him, the roof had given way to the heavens, but only a few paces away piles of red-hot rubble attested to where the wooden beams had gone.
Trapped beneath one of these beams lay an elf, motionless expect for his long blond hair that stirred in the winds the heat drove through the devastated building.
"Legolas?" Elrohir croaked, confused as he found himself unable to link what he saw with what his tired mind remembered. He could feel his consciousness slipping, no matter how valiantly he tried to hold on to it, and then he sank to the ground, never feeling the arms that caught him.
oxo
Elrond drove his horse across the battlefield so quickly that all around him seemed a blur. He felt a vague thankfulness towards Glorfindel who had taken it upon himself to see to the last remaining raiders and organize the help for the wounded. Yet his thoughts were not with the dead shapes he passed, nor with the groaning bodies his steed jumped whenever they encountered one. His mind was linked to his sons and fear clenched his heart.
The village was burning freely now, for the houses that had been spared by arrows had caught the deadly disease of fire and flame from the neighbouring buildings. Elrond had chosen the small river that ran through the settlement as his path towards the barn that had held his twin sons. He knew that by no miracle the wooden structure could have escaped the fiery fate of the rest of the village, and he could feel a burning pain within him that told him that neither had his children.
As he neared his destination, he saw villagers who fled towards the banks of the river. They stumbled along, many coughing or limping, but there were rangers beside them who ushered them onto the ice before allowing them to sink down and catch their breaths. The elf could not help but admire the men for their choice of location, for here the people would have some respite from the fire.
As one of the rangers caught sight of Elrond, he waved towards him and pointed, indicating that he should pass the next bend in the stream. Unable to read the exhausted man´s expression, the elf lord spurred on his steed even more, not even feeling how the beast slithered and slid on the ice as it tried to heed its riders command.
What Elrond saw by the river´s shore made his soul cry out in both joy and worry. Sitting within the snow there was Elladan, obviously alive and alert as he cradled his twin´s limp body in his arms, rocking back and forth. For a breathless second the elf lord thought his oldest son was mourning his twin, but then he could see Elrohir move beneath his brother´s ministrations.
Elladan whispered something to his younger sibling and then scooped up some fresh snow, gingerly applying it to the other´s cheek.
Elrond was off his steaming horse and beside his children before he had fully registered they were alive, and he wordlessly wrapped his arm around Elladan´s shoulders while at the same time placing a soothing hand on Elrohir´s forehead, unwilling to cause any pain to the younger twin.
They remained like this for long moments. Elrond could smell the smoke on his children. He could feel the trembles that wrecked Elladan´s frame and the heat that emanated from Elrohir, but he could also sense that their souls were whole and strong. They were not teetering at the brink of the abyss, as he had feared, and the relief he felt was almost too much to bear.
Feeling both twins stir beneath his touch the elf lord finally let go of them, straightening. Fresh energy flooded his body and mind and when he spoke there was no quiver in his voice. "Together we stood, my sons, and as such the day was won." He looked around sadly at the burning houses and exhausted people. "The price was high but at least we withstood the tide. Many of our foes were slain, even though I fear more of them are still about."
Elladan nodded, accepting the information with an impatient look of urgency on his face, but it was Elrohir who spoke, even though with difficulty. Grabbing his father´s hand, he croaked: "Legolas - help him..."
"Shhh, do not speak now", Elrond soothed, "I am sure your friend is well and we will soon find both him and Estel..."
"No, Ada", Elladan interrupted silently, "he speaks of Calen. The barn´s roof collapsed on him as he tried to save Elrohir. The rangers are trying to retrieve him."
Understanding the nod that his oldest son gave him, urging him to move on, Elrond stood. As glad as he was for his sons´ safety, the elf lord felt a surge of worry for Calen. Many years he had spent on training the younger elf, and he could see in him the makings of an exceptional healer. He was one who would do anything to keep his charges hale. Even though no warrior by nature, Calen displayed endless courage in the face of pain and despair. It did not surprise Elrond that today he had gone to such extremes to help Elrohir, and he swore to himself that he would do anything in his power to keep the younger elf alive.
Walking across the sodden and bloody snow, Elrond stepped over several bodies. More lay between the blackened houses, their lifeless eyes staring at the brightening skies. Some wore villagers´ clothes; some had been left naked by the wicked transformation that had taken their souls before their lives had expired. Even though he steadily moved towards the barn where he could see several rangers gently carrying a limb body from the still-burning ruins, his resolve hardened to protect any life that had not yet been lost. The cost was too high already.
oxo
The sun had risen over what had once been a village, and for once its gentle rays did nothing to enhance the sight. The fires had been doused by now, yet grey smoke still rose high into the skies, marking the terrible destruction for all to see.
The survivors had moved away from the ruins, up the river and into the light forest where the wounded could be tended and the weary could rest. After a short debate they had burned the corpses of the dead by feeding one of the last fires, as they knew that burying them now would only take time and effort from those who needed tending.
Elrond sat against a tree, fighting his exhaustion. Both of his sons slept, not hale but alive. Calen was resting also, yet some doubts remained about his recovery. The beam had struck his spine and even the lord of Imladris had been unable to determine how far the damage went. He would have to wait for the swelling to go down. As for now, he had appointed a lightly wounded elven archer to remain by the healer´s side, ensuring he would not move.
More of the injured had been tended afterwards, both elven and human, until the faces had blurred into one nameless mask before the experienced healer´s eyes. Even so, he had not rested until all who needed care had been seen to.
"You forgot one of your patients, mellon-nin."
Elrond looked up at the sound of Glorfindel´s gently taunting voice. A weak smile touched his lips as he bid his friend to sit, knowing full well that the Balrog slayer was tired also.
"That is not so, friend", he disagreed, pulling up his sleeve to reveal the bandage that was wrapped around his hand and arm. The blond elf frowned. "We both know that there is more to this wound than you let on", he said, "you should ride home as swiftly as possible."
A look of genuine surprise flitted across Elrond´s features. "Why would you suggest that? The danger has not passed, and Estel might well be in its path. I will not be reduced to inactivity again. There is no call for it."
Glorfindel shook his head, amusement and worry warring on his fair face. "You truly are exhausted, old friend, if you do not realize that Vilya might well be the only protection against the poison that flows through your veins. You must not underestimate this curse of old."
"I do not", Elrond replied calmly, "but as strong as Vilya is, it might not be fit to save me from this threat. Nor is it meant to keep its wearer alive. It is meant to ensure the security of our valley, and I shall not even try to use it for selfish means."
"Selfish!" The blond elf shook his head in disbelief. "How can it be selfish to keep one of the most powerful elves of Middle Earth from falling into our foe´s hands? Is it not more selfish to let pride come before reason?"
Elrond´s eyes darkened. "Now you underestimate me, Glorfindel. I have no intention of succumbing to the call of darkness."
"Aye, and neither did those poor souls who attacked us last night with bared teeth and snarling breaths!" The warrior stood to his feet, too agitated to remain seated. "I implore you, Elrond, both for yourself and for us, seek the protection of Imladris. I shall not find the heart to fight you once your strength wanes."
Elrond had risen as well. "My strength is far from waning. Do not compare me to those poor humans who were ill-fitted to battle such a demon."
"I had my share of fights with demons, friend." The Balrog slayer´s voice had dropped to a pained hiss. "I know what it feels like when strength wanes and death approaches and you do not even know whether your sacrifice was in vain. There is no need for you to follow the road that I was forced to take so long ago."
Elrond looked away from Glorfindel, unwilling to face him any longer. He knew what torture his friend had gone through and it saddened him to have stirred it once more. From the corner of his eye he saw a ranger approach but then halt, hesitating at the scene before him before reluctantly turning back. A wise choice, whatever the man had intended to say.
"I do not mean to belittle your past", the lord of Imladris finally spoke, "but I feel that I have nothing to gain from seeking my home now. Salvation does not lie there, not this time. Please have faith in my choice."
Glorfindel sighed, touching the other´s arm to make him look at him again. "I have no doubt in you, mellon-nin. But there are powers that may break even your spirit, and the Goer are driven by a force as old and deep as Mordor itself." /werewolves/
"That may be", Elrond replied calmly, "but do not forget that some forces of good are both old and deep, also."
"Yes indeed", a third voice chimed in, a chuckle shining beneath the words, "luckily that is so, even though I am more old than deep, I am afraid."
Both elves turned as one, eyes wide as they stared at the robed figure before them.
"So", Gandalf said cordially as he shook out his coat and sat down in the spot that Elrond had just vacated, leaning against the tree with a content sigh, "shall we talk?"
TBC