Chapter 11
Just One Cure
Kathalion had reached the outer walls of Rivendell. He flew around it once, unsure where to go. He had to find the lord of Imladris quickly, before he ran out of time. He too soon got sick of wondering he had to hurry! Making a quick decision, he picked a window, flew high in the sky, and like an arrow streaked for it, swift and sure.
Impact was worse than he thought. The glass of the windows were thick and hard, but thicker and harder was Kathalion's beak, shattering the window as he went through. The glass cut through him as easily as butter, and most of it followed him to the floor of the hallway he had just invaded. Glass fell around him and ahead of him, making his landing on the floor anything but pleasant.
He hit the ground hard and rolled, smacking into the wall with a loud THUD. He shook his head, then slowly got up and moved away from the treacherous pile of jagged glass that covered the floor, shaking the smaller pieces from his back and wings as he went.
He looked down the hallway, bracing himself for the stampede he was sure would appear.
Nothing came.
I wonder if I even woke anyone up? He thought, cautiously walking down the hallway. About two doors down he saw the handle slowly turn, the door cautiously open, revealing the glint of a white blade.
Stupid question. Kathalion thought, rolling his eyes heavenward and backing away.
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Elrond slowly opened the door, blade in front of him and peeked out. A cold gust of wind greeted him in the face, directing his attention to the large elegant window, now completely destroyed, pieces of glass littering the floor. Opening the door wider he allowed Elrohir a peek too.
"Stay in front of the door," he whispered. "Protect Legolas, until we know what's going on." Elrohir nodded, and watched his father step out into the hallway. "I don't think we're alone. I can sense another presence," Elrond said, quietly observing the glass-covered hallway.
"Lord Elrond?" the voice was strong and sincere.
Elrond jumped again, this time in true fear. What in the name of the Valar was that! That voice had not been spoken aloud, but right inside his head. Elrohir gave him a confused, and even a little fearful look.
"Do not fear. I will not harm you."
Confusion replaced Elrond's shock-induced fear. The voice was deep, but not harsh, very clear and calm. Elrond then noticed a slight movement from behind a table, and a beautiful, if not cut up black-blue eagle head poked out, watching him carefully.
Elrond breathed a sigh of relief. It was just an eagle. An eagle that could read minds, and was telepathic. He stopped. Wait a minute . . .
"Who are you?" he asked the eagle, who had fully stepped out from behind the table. He was mostly white, with his head and tail a blackish-blue color. The eagle looked at him, and still spoke the same way.
"I am Kathalion. I have been sent here by your sons, to heal the one called Legolas."
Bewilderment crossed the elf lord's features. This eagle . . . is the cure?
"But I must hurry. The elf I understand doesn't have much time, and there is something of great importance that I need to tell you."
The eagle limped toward the doorway, passing both the stricken elves. He entered the room and headed for the prince's bed. Elrond recovered and pushed Elrohir after him, following Kathalion to Legolas. Elrohir kept shooting his father confused looks, but Elrond paid no attention.
Kathalion hopped onto the bed and began to uncover Legolas carefully, relieving the prince of the layers of blankets. When Kathalion touched him the elf was so cold. Nodding to himself, he turned to the elf lord, who seemed to have gotten over the shock of talking to an eagle this way.
"How long has it been since he awoke last?"
"Nearly two days." Kathalion looked relieved, but wary.
"Good, good. Much longer than three and you would have lost him completely. Stand back please, and cover your ears! I'm going to wake him up."
Elrond backed away from the bed, pulling Elrohir with him. When they had done what he said, Kathalion turned to the unconscious prince. He placed his beak next to Legolas' ear and screamed so loudly that all of Rivendell shook from the cry. It took several moments for the sound to fade.
That was loud enough to wake the dead, though Elrohir, ears ringing, watching astonished as Legolas began to twist and turn, shuddering violently again, and open his eyes. Kathalion looked at him and smiled, but didn't say anything.
"This should not take very long to take effect." said Kathalion. Turning his attention to the shuddering elf, he recalled the way Aragorn had spoken of him. The essence of a true friendship, if ever there was one. "It's alright, young one," Kathalion gently nudged Legolas' head affectionately with his beak. "I mean you no harm. You're going to be just fine."
Kathalion moved his head and placed it over the elf's jerking chest, right over his heart. Thick, pearly tears began to fall from Kathalion's eyes, splashing onto Legolas' skin. Elrond and Elrohir moved over to the chair nearest to the bed and watched in silent wonder at the scene in front of them. Elrond watched the tears carefully. There was no tearstain as one might expect on the skin, but the tears were being completely absorbed. After a few minutes Kathalion moved to Legolas' throat and repeated the process. Then to the arms, the legs, his back, and sides. Every tear that was shed was absorbed into the skin like a sponge takes in water.
As Kathalion neared being finished, both the elven lord and his son noticed a change in Legolas' features – the skin changed from a sickly white to pink again, the violent shuddering slowed and eventually stopped altogether, and his face . . . Elrohir almost could not believe his eyes. Legolas' eyes were once again the vibrant blue he knew so well, filled again with hope and life. His features no longer contracted in spasms of pain, but was now fully relaxed and softened, color returned to his cheeks and lips, growing darker and fuller as the elf got healthier.
Finally Kathalion backed away a little, and watched the elf carefully as Legolas began to breath deeply, as though he were breathing for the first time. Slowly he regained the power to move his limbs. When he moved his hands for the first time of his own accord in days, Legolas was filled with such inexpressible joy. Elrohir moved from his spot next to Elrond and sat next to Kathalion. Slowly he leaned forward and touched Legolas' arm with his fingertips. No more than twenty minutes ago the skin was as cold as ice, but now . . . Elrohir trembled slightly at the warmth that now radiated through Legolas' body. Legolas carefully propped himself up with one elbow, got into a sitting position, and pulled Elrohir into a tight embrace. It was almost as if he had never been poisoned.
"I was so afraid," said Elrohir. "that even if Estel and Elladan made it back with a cure it would have been too late, and you would not even have been able to say good-bye . . ."
"It's going to be all right now," said Legolas softly, and as he did so, he reached out to the silver eagle, and place one hand on his head. "Hannon le, mellon nin." He whispered to the eagle, gently stroking the feathers on his head. Healing this way had always weakened him for a while, but it had been so long since he had been in the company of elves. Kathalion relaxed for a moment, enjoying it, but then he realized something. Legolas patted him much like how Aragorn had only a short . . . while . . . ago . . .
Aragorn! Elladan!
"Kathalion? What's wrong?" Elrond too had moved form his spot to the bed and had seen the eagle freeze in terror.
"There is something I need to tell you of your sons, as it needs to be acted on immediately." Kathalion whispered, ashamed of himself for almost forgetting so easily. Elrohir broke the embrace and turned around to face the eagle, and all three stared at him, understanding and responding to Kathalion's tone, giving him fearful looks.
Kathalion sighed deeply, then faced them. "They were taken."
Silence. No one spoke. Then Elrond spoke up, his voice filled with pain.
"Who took them? Where are my sons?"
"Orcs, and a . . . a . . . oh dear Illuvitar, . . . a demon."
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Elrohir hurriedly prepared his horse and led him out of the stables. Once outside, he looked around. The grounds around Rivendell were alive with activity. Torches were lit and elves were running everywhere. A few minutes later he saw Elrond heading toward him, Legolas following slowly behind.
"There's been a sighting." Elrond said as he stopped in front of Elrohir, and waited for Legolas to catch up. He looked slightly annoyed above everything else, probably because Legolas was not resting like he would have liked.
"A sighting? Of what?" Elrohir asked as he threw the reins over his horse's head and looked at his father carefully, apprehension written on his face.
"Coming from the south, or as of the last report. It is two horses, both rider less, carrying supplies."
"And . . .you don't mean that they belong to-"
"They belong to Estel and Elladan. It has been confirmed. They should be here soon. Some of our watchers are bringing them."
Elrohir was stunned. "What's going to happen?"
Elrond sighed. "I don't know. I have sent for Mithrandir, but I don't know if we'll be able to find him in time for either Elladan or Estel. We need to get out there and find them."
Legolas finally caught up with them and gave Elrond his piercing glare. "I'm riding with the others."
"Legolas, no! You have not gained enough strength for such a ride, you aren't ready for a battle." Elrond looked pointedly at the way the prince had limped to them, and how one arm was wrapped lightly over his midsection. But if Legolas noticed, he gave no heed. He dug one hand into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper the very sheet of paper Aragorn had been working on so intently the first night Legolas had woken. But that felt so long ago, a lifetime ago. Legolas handed the paper for Elrond to see.
The elf lord unfolded the one crease and smoothed the parchment in his hands. Once he was done, he could only stare at it.
It was a drawing, a detailed sketch of the elf prince himself. Elrond was amazed at the detail Elrohir, the artist of the family, could have done no better. In the drawing Legolas was kneeling on one knee with his knives in hand, in a protective kneeling stance. He was looking at a dark shadow somewhere deep in the trees. Yet the part that confused Elrond the most was a fallen figure at Legolas' side a dark haired being who wore no shirt, and bore several marks of mistreatment. The look in Legolas' eyes in the picture was filled with pain and intensity. When Elrond looked up at the Legolas in front of him, his eyes held no difference from the picture.
"They are both out there, risking their lives for me," Legolas said in a low, pain filled voice. "I need to get out there and help in any way I can. Some of my strength has returned, I can handle a ride in the dark. But please Elrond." Legolas looked the elf lord directly in the eye. "I will never forgive myself if they both be lost and I stayed behind and did nothing to help, and . . ." Legolas gestured toward the picture. "I think Estel needs me."
Elrond sighed. He knew that look, and he understood the fear the prince concealed within. "All right, but I want you to stay with Elrohir, do you understand me?" Elrond gave Legolas back the parchment.
Placing the sheet of artwork back inside one pocket, Legolas nodded. "I will stay with him."
Just then several elves on horseback ran out of the woods and toward the great home of Rivendell. In the midst of them were two rider less horses; both of which looked annoyed and upset that they were being herded like cattle, rather than the war horses that they were.
"Come." Said Elrond, leading the way to where the horseman had stopped. "We must see if they bring any news."
The other two followed him, and Elrond went over to one of the elves and began to talk quietly to him. But Elrohir and Legolas' attention was soon riveted as a loud commotion broke out in the middle of the ring of horseman.
The two horses were beside themselves with fury. They didn't seem to understand why the elves wouldn't let them go back the way they had come, and they were neighing and twisting in anger. Legolas quickly recognized one of the horses – Aragorn's stallion Arien was making more of a fuss than the other. Legolas ran up to the horse, grabbed his bridle, and quietly soothed him. The stallion calmed at the elf's clear familiar voice, having heard it several times before, but was remained on the edge of barely controlled patience. Eyes wide, he pranced on his feet, desperately wanting to go back the way he had come.
Elrond nodded to the elf he was talking to and walked over to Legolas. "I've been told that they both have been quite a problem on the way home. They desperately want to go back. They didn't like the idea of leaving their masters, but they know how to be obedient."
Legolas stroked the stallion's neck and nodded. "He wants to go back – you can see it in his eyes. He feels guilty for leaving his master behind."
Elrond nodded. "Have the supplies and equipment removed, and take him. He could help you find Estel and Elladan, if you listen to him carefully."
"That I will." Legolas immediately began to pull off the bags, then the saddle, and the horse's bridle. The stallion stood quietly, and when Legolas mounted with slight difficulty, he gave a small whicker of appreciation.
Elrond continued. "Go with Elrohir and try and find what you can. I will get the rest of our warriors together and follow as soon as I can. Good luck!"
Legolas nodded, easily turned Arien around and rode to Elrohir. "Come, Elrohir!" he called to the elf as he mounted his own horse. "Let's go find the rest of our family!"
Elrohir nodded and grinned, then kicked his mount into a canter. "We ride!"
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Elrond watched the two riders disappear into the forest, then turned and checked on the rest of the uproar. As he did so, Kathalion saw the elf lord and flew to him.
"Are they going?" Kathalion still talked in his normal manner, but Elrond was now used to that.
"Yes. I could not hold either back, not even Legolas. They have wills of iron, both of them. But right now Legolas seems to show that more than Elrohir – he would ride even though he is not nearly close enough to his normal strength."
"He feels terrified. I can tell." said the eagle. "He will never give up hope that Estel and Elladan live, but the old fear will never leave him. He must be strongly connected with Estel to take such a risk."
Elrond nodded. He had seen the young elf's resilience to giving in to fear, but it did not stop the fear from haunting him. Nor would the connection between them be severed, not while they held to hope.
"I just hope that nothing will happen that will destroy his hard inner strength."
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A strange rider entered Rivendell not long after, bent low over his horse's neck. He slowed, and stopped on the outer edge of the commotion, and watched the excitement with an experienced eye. He dismounted and led his horse closer to the elves that were preparing to leave.
He stopped one of the elves in his haste and asked for Lord Elrond.
"He is over there, next to the stables, sir." The young elf said as he recognized the rider and pointed in the right direction. "He will be very grateful you have come."
"Thank you." He led his horse over to the stables, and quickly found Lord Elrond talking to a familiar dark blue and white eagle.
"Lord Elrond! Is that Kathalion?"
Elrond turned in surprise at the newcomer, and the surprise quickly turned to joy and relief.
"Mithrandir! It is good to see you! I need your help!"
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"Mithrandir, what are you doing here? I sent for you only a short while ago."
"It seems that your messenger found me quite quickly. About a week ago something told me that I should come and check on you and your family, and make sure you were all right. It also gave me the feeling of haste, so I came as quickly as I could."
"Thank you Mithrandir. I do have great need of you right now."
Mithrandir listened quietly to what Elrond had to say, which surprisingly did not take a large amount of time. Elrond told him everything that had happened and what they had found out about the poison, the cure, Kathalion, Moran, and Valkenor, and what was going on that very moment.
When he was finished, Mithrandir did not speak for a few moments. When he continued to do so, the elf lord pressed the wizard. Even though he knew it was unwise, fear can make one impatient.
"Mithrandir, what should we do? I know little of this demon, for Kathalion could tell me nothing useful."
Mithrandir looked his old friend in the eye, and sighed. "Then I suggest we go find out."
Elrond gave him a look of bewilderment, but then gave him a grim smile. "You are better versed in dealing with these kind of dark powers. Tell me what I should do."
"Go prepare yourself. We shall ride and do what we can."
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Minutes later Elrond and Mithrandir were outside, ready to battle if needed, leading their horses to the center of the small group of elf warriors. Kathalion flew up to the elf lord and the wizard one last time.
"I must bid you farewell, my friends, and I pray the Valar will help you find what you seek. Send my thanks to Aragorn and Elladan, for they have taught me much in the short time I knew them. Farewell!"
With that Kathalion leapt into the air and was swiftly far away from them. But right before he disappeared, he let loose a loud, echoing call that sounded both mournful and hopeful at the same time. As the sound faded, Kathalion was gone.
Mithrandir and Elrond, along with the small group of elves sat listening to the echo die almost as if in a trance.
Finally Elrond mounted his horse with remarkable ease and spoke aloud to the elves.
"We need to take great caution into this expedition. I'm not sure what we are going to face when we get there. Remain as silent as possible, and when we near the site we will leave the horses behind and sneak up on our enemies. Be ready when I call. Now," he paused, and looked at Mithrandir. "Move out!"
Quietly now the elven riders urged their mounts into a careful run, as swift and silent as shadows moving through the trees. Elrond and Mithrandir quickly took the lead. The fight had begun.