CHAPTER 4

The train bearing the wounded rumbled its way slowly through the wastelands beyond Sauron's gates and into the fresher air of Ithilien. Although even here, the dark lord's hand could be seen in the wake of his march of destruction upon the Tower of the Moon. The wagons, with their precious cargo gave the ravaged city a wide birth and finally halted upon the banks of Anduin.

Those most grievously injured had been drugged insensible for the greater part of the long journey, to spare them the jolting agony of roads torn up by the passage of too many ironclad feet and engines of war. Now the healers were allowing them a time of wakefulness before the river crossing.

In a grove of beech trees a small pavilion nestled slightly apart from the other healing tents. If Elrond had been aware at the time he would doubtless have objected to such favour, but Glorfindel and others of his household had shown their love in the only way they could in its erection in this quiet and scented place. Glorfindel had been to great pains to assure the healer that Elrond's people would fetch him if their lord exhibited any symptoms of distress before the Glinkuil's scheduled arrival, and only because of that had the placement of the pavilion been agreed.

Knowing to within a few minutes when his charge would awaken, Glinkuil had arrived a little while ago and ordered broth and drinks to be brought. Now Glorfindel watched as he drew back the blanket to inspect the bandages that still thickly swathed Elrond's body, nodding in approval as he found little in the way of fresh bleeding. One of pure elven blood would be further along on the road to healing but Glorfindel consoled himself with the thought that had Elrond been wholly mortal such an injury would have certainly brought about his demise.

A sigh presaged Elrond's return to consciousness and all eyes within the tent turned towards the still figure upon the raised pallet. Glorfindel took up his accustomed place at his friend's side at once, so that Elrond would find a familiar face when he surfaced from his enforced slumber. At his other side Glinkuil stood ready with a tincture to soothe the pain he knew would be Elrond's first awareness.

Pain clouded grey eyes opened, blinking into focus on the canvas above and then sliding down to take in the space around him. Glinkuil bent at once, slipping a hand beneath Elrond's shoulders and offering the small silver cup with it's tincture mixed in white wine. His charge swallowed trustingly, finishing all before turning to his friend.

"How long have I slept? I seem to recollect many such dosings."

"It has been six days. The healers deemed you would be more comfortable for the journey thus," Glorfindel replied as he eased his friend up once more to allow Glinkuil to slide another pillow beneath his shoulders.

"Journey?" Elrond surveyed his surroundings once more, apparently noticing for the first time that he was not in a communal healing tent. "Where are we?"

"We are in Ithilien . . . on the banks of Anduin. The first of the injured will be ferried across tomorrow," Glinkuil supplied as he accepted a tray from his assistant. "For now, you must rest and take nourishment. We could feed you little while you slept."

Drawing up another stool, Glinkuil selected a small basin of broth from the tray and proceeded to spoon it to his charge. Glorfindel could feel Elrond's discomfort. It was one thing to be given medicines in that manner but quite another to be fed like a babe in arms.

Clearly trying to distract himself, Elrond spoke between mouthfuls. "What of Isildur?"

"He and his guard left as soon as you were declared well enough to travel. Actually, "left" is too fine a word for what he did. He skulked off into the night, leaving the rest of his army to follow when they could. Not the best example for a king to set."

Glorfindel's tone matched his scornful words perfectly and Elrond almost smiled. Then his thoughts clearly turned to another king and a shimmer of tears gathered in his eyes.

"And Gil-galad? Where does he lie?"

Glorfindel could only shake his head. "His guards spirited the body away. No-one knows where they laid him."

Elrond accepted several mouthfuls of broth before he spoke again, his gaze distant. "That is as he would wish it. He would want no mourners at his graveside . . . a monument. His eyes ever looked to the future." A small smile. "He would often chide me for burying my head in histories and legends of the past."

There was the usual embarrassed silence as all present tried to find the right words to comfort. "I am sorry, Elrond. I know his death was a great loss to you." Glorfindel's thumb rubbed the back of his friend's hand.

"I shall miss him." Elrond refused the next spoonful of broth with a shake of his head. "I have had sufficient, Glinkuil."

"No, Hir Elrond. You may have had as much as you want but you have not had sufficient if you wish to heal." Glinkuil offered the spoon again but found himself upon the receiving end of one of the Standard Bearer's infamous glares. Even backed with no physical substance Glinkuil found it quite intimidating and drew back, searching for but finding no support in Glorfindel's face.

"Master Glinkuil, I promise that I shall take sustenance later. For the moment I wish to be alone. I assure you I have no intention of expiring within the next hour."

For a moment it looked as though Glinkuil was preparing to argue, but then he simply bowed and left. Glorfindel smiled to see his friend regaining some of his strength of will at least but when he glanced back at Elrond he found those piercing grey eyes trained squarely upon him now.

"You too, Fin. You need not hover over me any more. I am recovering and I suspect you have not seen the outside of this tent for some hours."

Glorfindel hesitated, then followed Glinkuil. Elrond deserved some time alone to mourn his dearest friend and he had never been one for public displays of emotion. The guards stationed outside would hear and send for aid if their lord showed any signs of physical distress.

When the two returned, some time later, they pretended not to notice the dried tracks of tears on Elrond's cheeks.

TBC

REVIEWERS

Coolio02 - Yep. Poor Elrond. (Mwahahahahahaha!)

Aemilia Rose - Awwww. Elrond in a blankie is too sweet.

Peleus 15 - Poor love just isn't used to being this side of the stethoscope.

SilverWolf 7 - I'm having way too much fun to let him heal any time soon.

Mew1945 - I'm glad to find another Elrond lover. We are too few and far between on lj.

Shirebound - He knows. He's just so disorientated, bless him.