# 44 Wounds

Elrond could not get the image of his wife out of his head. The look on his sons' faces when they returned from rescuing their mother from the Orc den several weeks ago spoke of hidden anger and deep pain. When Elrohir handed her to him, she felt so light and looked so frail, so helpless.

He tried desperately to push the image out of his mind so he could focus on tending his wife's wounds. The nasty bruises which covered most of her body, the broken bones, and welts. Oh, in time, he knew she would heal from these physical injuries, but the wounds which worried him the most could not be seen. They were the ones hidden deep inside of Celebrían—the emotional scars.

These, he knew would be permanent and the only cure would be for her to sail. Elrond fought back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. This should never have happened to her. This should be him lying here in a traumatized state. Why had he failed to protect her that fateful day?

When Elrond finished tending her yet again, he went outside and screamed until he could scream no more. "Why?! Why did you allow this to happen to her? She was so innocent. That should have been me!"

Elrond fell to his knees and sobbed. He did not care who saw or heard him. Minutes later, he felt a hand rest upon his shoulder. "My friend, it was not your fault. Please do not blame yourself."

Elrond turned and looked into the soft eyes of Glorfindel which held sadness and pain. Glorfindel hated to see his friend hurt, and he could not help but blame himself for this. After all, he was sent here to protect this family. He held out his hand and offered to help Elrond up. When he accepted it, he led his lord to his rooms and sat with his friend as he cried once again.