CHAPTER 8

"I have been managing to feed myself for several hundred years. Put that spoon down." Elrond's voice lacked volume and the effect was somewhat dulled by the slight cough at its ending but his tone conveyed the point clearly enough.

Glorfindel dropped the spoon back into the bowl of broth and folded his arms with an exasperated sigh. "You have not almost bled to death and then suffered with fever for six days before though, have you? But by all means, go ahead."

With a scowl that could have scared away a dragon but had limited effect upon a balrog slayer, Elrond reached for the eating implement. His scowl deepened as he found his hand trembling, his fingers lacking the strength to even grip the stem. Glorfindel watched calmly as he dropped it back into the basin three times, finally drowning it, stem and all. The spoon lay submerged in the warm liquid, eyeing Elrond smugly from its murky bath.

Glorfindel dropped his head to hide a smirk as Elrond muttered, "Don't like mushroom broth, anyway."

Now that Elrond's fever had broken he had become more and more frustrated as his body refused to heal at the speed he wished. This afternoon's battle was but one in a long line of skirmishes he had held with both Glorfindel and Glinkuil over the last three days. They had covered such important matters as, who was going to wash his face and brush his hair, to whether he was capable of getting up to deal with his own bodily functions. So far Elrond had lost every argument but that didn't stop him trying and Glorfindel had to admire him for his sheer stubbornness.

Elrond leaned back into the mound of pillows behind him and stared at the roof of the tent, his hands falling still at his sides. Glorfindel made no comment, neatly fishing the spoon out with a fork. Taking up a fresh one he filled it and held it to his friend's mouth. Elrond opened without comment, accepting both broth and defeat.

"Glinkuil tells me you are well enough to travel if we take the journey slowly." Glorfindel made small talk as he tried to distract the Lord of Imladris from the humiliation of being fed like a child.

"Aye. And at least I will be spared riding in a wagon. The passage is too rough."

The slight uplift in Elrond's tone alerted his friend. "I am afraid you should not get your hopes up. Glinkuil is out there supervising the assembly of a litter for you. You cannot sit a horse in your present condition."

As he had suspected it would, this initiated another glower. "I will not be carted about the countryside like . . . like . . . like some suckling pig on a platter. You can tell Master Glinkuil I will not be requiring his contraption."

"I will do no such thing. Be sensible, Elrond. You are a healer. You are stitched together down the entire length of your body and you are still recovering from a fever. Apart from the danger of tearing Glinkuil's carefully wrought stitches . . . for which he may just let you bleed to death . . . you are too weak to hold yourself upright. You have not sat up without the aid of pillows for two weeks."

Elrond's voice rose. "And whose fault is that? I have tried to get up on several occasions and you have wrestled me down each time."

Glorfindel lifted the tray aside, realising that in his present mood it would be impossible to get Elrond to take any more. "And do you honestly believe that I would have been able to do so were you ready to get up? It was hardly a fair match."

If Glorfindel had been the sort of person who kept a diary he decided that he would have put a red ring around this date, for Elrond was unable to come up with a suitable retort. He settled instead for gathering up the tray and leaving his charge to stew in his own bile.

Outside, Glinkuil looked up from his supervision long enough to offer him a sympathetic glance. The journey to Lothlorien was going to be very long.

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"I can walk that far. It is only a few steps. At least allow me that dignity." There was a note of pleading in Elrond's voice that Glorfindel did not remember ever having heard before and it tugged at his heart, overriding other considerations. It was, after all, only half a dozen steps to the exit and the litter lay just beyond.

Glinkuil was more used to such tactics, however, and was not so easily swayed. "Lord Elrond. You are too weak as yet. You have not sat up for more than an hour at a time these past two days." He continued to ease his charge into a loose linen robe for the journey. As a consequence, Elrond's next words were somewhat muffled as Glinkuil dropped the large skein of fabric over his head.

"I am healing much faster now that the fever has subsided. You can walk with me if you are so concerned." His somewhat tousled head appeared through the neckline and Glinkuil went on to thread his arms into the sleeves and wrangle the fabric down his torso over the thick layer of bandages.

Glorfindel came to his rescue. "We can walk either side of him, Glinkuil. He is right. It is but a few steps." He eased Elrond up a little to allow the healer to slide the fabric over narrow hips and smooth the robe down over their charge's legs.

The healer threw up his hands. "Very well. But I doubt you'll get more than one step." He glared at Glorfindel. "I shall hold you responsible for ensuring he does himself no further damage when he faints."

"I never faint." Elrond's voice almost held it's old strength, but even so it only made Glinkuil snort.

He motioned for Glorfindel to support Elrond in a sitting position and watched as the injured elf closed his eyes as soon as he was upright, clinging to his friend's arm. Glinkuil shot his temporary assistant a warning glance before moving to slip his hands beneath Elrond's legs and the two of them turned him slowly sideways until his bare feet were on the floor. There they waited for Elrond to open his eyes, Glorfindel wincing at the pressure his friend hands were inflicting upon his biceps

Finally, Elrond took a deep breath, grimacing as it tugged at healing flesh, and opened his eyes. Glinkuil watched closely, only signalling for Glorfindel to help him rise when he saw those grey eyes fully focussed.

With Glinkuil on his left and Glorfindel on his right, they eased Elrond slowly up. Glorfindel shot an arm about Elrond's waist at once as he felt his friend's knees tremble and he began to sway dangerously. Taking his share of the weight, Glinkuil tried once more to make his charge see reason.

"Lord Elrond, you are too weak. Please allow Lord Glorfindel to carry you to the litter."

His words had the opposite effect to that which he had hoped, although not necessarily the opposite to that which he had expected. Elrond clenched his jaw and attempted to take some of his weight off his helpers. "I will walk."

He essayed a shaky step, taking some time to lock his knee to take his weight. His face was pale and a fine sheen of perspiration began to appear on his upper lip. Nevertheless, he took another step and Glorfindel moved to support him as he swayed once more.

"Elrond, my friend. Stop being so stubborn. You cannot do this." Without waiting for permission, he swung Elrond up into his arms, earning a squawk of protest from his victim.

"Glorfindel, put me down this instant."

"No." Glorfindel merely strode towards the exit, causing Glinkuil to scurry ahead and push aside the flap. "If you fall and tear those stitches there will be two of us on litters because I believe Glinkuil may just attempt to kill me in retribution."

Outside, Glorfindel lowered Elrond onto the heavily padded litter and stood well out of range as Eithel arranged pillows and tucked blankets about his thunderous charge. Suffering the younger elf to arrange him, Elrond concentrated all of his spleen upon Glorfindel.

"Glorfindel, you had better take very good care of yourself from now on. Because if you are ever injured and put in my care you are going to be reminded of this event."

"If I am ever that stubborn, My Lord, I should hope you will take every opportunity to do so." Glorfindel bowed as deeply as any courtier and Elrond treated him to one of his most glacial glares. So intent was he upon the subject of his ire that he did not even notice when Glinkuil gave him a few drops to drink from a small flask.

With a final flourish and a wide grin at the helpers who were to carry the litter, Glorfindel turned to accept the reins of his mount from one of the escort. With that target pointedly ignoring him, Elrond glanced about him to find another and took in his surroundings at last.

"Glinkuil! What is this? You said it was a litter. It looks more like something a dowager lady from Elendil's court would travel in." He flicked a disdainful finger at the canvas curtains by his side.

It was indeed, quite an interesting contraption, resembling more a palanquin than a litter, with its canopied roof and curtained sides supported on four green oak poles. Admittedly, both roof and curtains were obviously made from the canvas of some now ruined tent but it was quite an unusual sight.

By now relatively used to Elrond's glacial mien Glinkuil knelt at the litter's side. "We must travel far and may encounter inclement weather. In addition, it will provide you with some privacy when needed."

Elrond accepted the explanation without comment, suddenly finding himself quite drowsy. He blinked in confusion, as the canopy above him seemed to roll away to his left and then back again. Realisation slowly broke through the growing haze in his mind. "What did you just give me?"

"A gentle sedative. You have had a busy afternoon."

"Gentle?"

"Yes . . . gentle. You are exhausted thanks to your unnecessary activity. The tincture is merely helping your body do what it needs to recover its strength." Glinkuil watched asgrey eyesblinked several more times, then nodded approval as Elrond's eyelids slid closed. The healer rose and motioned for the drapes to be lowered into place, a job that the bearers undertook with some alacrity.

TBC