CHAPTER 12
He was floating ina strange place. There was no pain and no sensation either. There was no sadness but no joy. There were no screams of agony and yet, no peace. There was light, however. Above him he could see the surface, a ruddy glow of flickering fire. But here there was no fire. Here it was calm, like the space between one breath and the next. Elrond found a certain comfort in this place, as he watched the surface drift further and further away.
"Son of Earendil. You cannot remain here."
Elrond's heart faltered at the sound of that voice. Rich in wisdom and steeped in sadness, her voice caused ripples in the stillness of his world. After the silence of his mind her voice was thunderous and he cringed away from it. But in this place there was nowhere to hide.
Son of Earendil? Yes. He remembered a father. Remembered standing upon the beach with his brother and watching a sail sink below the distant horizon. His father had only ever been a shadowy and intermittent presence in Elrond's life. What was a father to him?
And his mother . . . what of her? A sad and lonely lady who's hugs were filled with love and loss. And then even she had abandoned him in order to protect a jewel. A jewel . . .
Maglor had at least spoken with him. Had taught him to sing. But Maglor had walked away too . . . leaving Elrond and his brother to die in the forest. Then had come Gil-galad, bringing security and friendship. It had been Gil-galad's presence that had allowed Elrond to accept his final desertion . . . that of his brother, Elros. Even now, Elrond could not fully understand his brother's choice of mortality . . . the choice allowed all peredhil or half-elves.
"Elrond Peredhil. Come back to the light."
He curled in upon himself, trying to turn from the ruddy glow of the fiery surface above. His own voice sounded dull and empty in comparison to the life crowded into her command.
"Leave me be. It hurts."
A soft chuckle teased him. "Light is life and life can hurt. But that is no reason to push it away. Light can illuminate much that is beautiful."
It became clear that she did not intend to leave so Elrond tried to push her away. "And light can show much that is ugly," he muttered.
"And such has been your experience, I know. A father that seemed to ignore you, a mother that abandoned you, held captive by your enemies, a twin who turned from you to take mortality and death. And now your closest friend killed for what you perceive to be no reason."
Intellect had to applaud her precise catalogue. Elrond waited for her next words, this woman who seemed to be able to read his very soul.
"I know how painful life can be, child. I too have seen much that is ugly. But I have also seen great joy."
A flash of light, pure and white as moonlight on new snow . . . and . . .
The terrible sound of ice grinding upon ice and a cold so intense that his hands felt as though they were on fire. The burned-out hulks of a fleet of ships on an empty shore. Great sadness at the memory of jewel scattered beaches, never to be walked again. Deep love mirrored in steal-grey eyes. The intense joy of looking down into the face of a tiny babe with a down of silver hair and huge blue eyes. A tall and slender elf maiden, dancing in a grove of silver trees.
Elrond's heart tripped and moved on at a faster pace at this last for here was the maiden of his childhood vision. He turned to look up, surprised to see the ruddy glow of the surface closer now.
"Come back to the light Elrond of Rivendell. Life awaits you. Your song is not yet ended and there are wondrous harmonies yet to be woven in and from it."
A pale and slender hand reached down through the flames and with trembling and hesitant fingers he grasped it. Her hand wrapped about his firmly and a pale light formed from their merged fingers, white shot through with blue. It sped down his arm and blazed across his torso, settling in a searing line from shoulder to hip. A slight tug . . . and Elrond lay gasping and thrashing in fire laced water.
"Quickly, Eithel. I have done my part and now you must do yours."
Cool hands forced Elrond's body to stillness and a cup was pressed to his lips. Liquid trickled into his mouth and he swallowed, reflexively at first and then greedily. It was sweet and cool and all he craved.
The world began to recede once more, but this time he was cocooned in dark comfort. He knew instinctively that this was a place of safety and surrendered to it gladly, his last impression one of soft, cool and strangely familiar hands smoothing the hair from his brow.
00000
Glorfindel let out his breath dizzily, aware for the first time that he had been holding it and unsure how long he had been doing so.
It had been a strange and awe-filled time that seemed to stretch on forever but had probably only lasted for moments. Glorfindel had heard no words but, watching the faces of both Galadriel and Elrond, he suspected that some converse was taking place. For the first time in many hours Elrond stirred beneath her touch, almost as though he wished to escape it.
Slowly the tense features smoothed and Galadriel had slipped her fingers about his, where they lay limp upon the coverlet. To Glorfindel's surprise Elrond's own fingers had curled loosely about hers. Was it his imagination or had he seen a faint glow about their joined hands?
Then it seemed to the warrior that time sped up, for everything began to happen at once. Eithel pushed past him, carrying a cup of some clear liquid. Elrond took a deep choking breath and cried out in pain. Galadriel's lady lifted Elrond's head while the young healer shakily fed him the contents of the cup and, with a small sigh; his charge sank back into a deep sleep.
Time slowed to its accustomed pace and Glorfindel approached the now crowded bedside. He glanced from face to face, hoping for explanation and finally had to resort to asking. These Galadhrim all had an infuriatingly enigmatic air.
"Have you healed him?"
Galadriel's eyes fixed him and Glorfindel sensed amusement in them. He was relieved when those silver eyes focussed instead upon the slender maiden who was now helping Eithel bathe their charge.
"I only showed him there was much still to live for. The choice to take up that life again was his. You could say that he healed himself."
Glorfindel wondered whether the mortal saying, "Never go to the elves for council. For they will tell you both yes and no," had been coined by someone who had encountered the inhabitants of the Golden Wood.
The tall lady floated past him in a glamour of silk and power and Glorfindel could only bow at her passing.
TBC
