Disclaimer: I own nothing but the OC's and the plot, everything else belongs to Tolkien and those who currently own the rights to his work.
Chapter 33 – Wounds
Third Age 2805
Glorfindel reached the borders of Imladris as fast as his steed could carry them and passed into the realm unhindered. Bregolien, sensing the urgency of his task, chose the swiftest path. He slowed only upon reaching the steep descent into the valley.
When they reached the main courtyard Glorfindel dismounted in one graceful motion, Eruanna cradled securely in his arms. Her eyes were closed as they had been for nearly the entire journey. Glorfindel ran up the steps and headed in the direction of the healing ward.
He passed a pair of ellyn in the hall. Their eyes widened at the sight of the Lord and the elleth he carried.
"Fetch Lord Elrond," he commanded them. "Have him meet me in the healing rooms." The ellyn went in opposite directions in search of their Lord. Glorfindel continued onward. He kicked the door to the healing ward open, calling out to the Chief Healer as he did, "Istuion!"
"Lord Glorfindel," Istuion's irritation at the Lord's abrupt entry vanished upon seeing the cause of Glorfindel's rudeness. "Eruanna?" the healer recognized the child's delicate features as her hair fell away from her face. He gestured to a small cot in the center of the room. "Set her down here."
Istuion helped Glorfindel lower the elleth onto the bed so he could have a look at her injury. There was a great deal of blood soaked through the back of her dress. Istuion withdrew a sharp blade from his robe and began cutting away the soiled cloth. "What happened?"
Glorfindel stood watching the healer gently remove the ruined dress. "We were ambushed just south of the border. She has a stab wound to her right shoulder. The blade was poisoned."
Glorfindel turned slightly toward the door. Elrond's footsteps could be heard as he rushed hurriedly down the hall.
Elrond entered the room and his eyes widened at the sight laid out before him. For the smallest fraction of a second he thought it was Arwen lying on that cot, but the elleth's hair was too light and her skin held more color. Relief washed over him, but it did not last. There was only one other elleth traveling with Glorfindel. He strode swiftly across the room. Istuion moved aside to give his Lord a better view of the injury.
Elrond studied the stab wound, noting the odd discoloration creeping out from its center. His head rose and he shot Glorfindel a question, "Poison?"
The Seneschal nodded.
"The wound continues to bleed," Istuion added gravely. "The poison may contain an anticoagulant."
Elrond stood and disappeared into the adjoining room. Istuion followed close behind. The pair returned with a cart of medical supplies began tending to her wound.
Glorfindel could do nothing but watch.
"Will more injured be arriving?" Istuion asked him.
"I don't know," Glorfindel was ashamed to admit. "I believe everyone was accounted for when I rode away, but there may be others who require treatment."
"Very well," Elrond addressed Istuion, "summon Caladwen and Bellasiel. We may need assistance." Istuion handed Elrond a drawing salve for Eruanna's wound and departed to carry out his Lord's command. Elrond shifted his gaze to his Seneschal. He was covered in orc gore, but appeared uninjured. "Go clean yourself up Glorfindel. You can do nothing more here."
It was an order and Glorfindel knew better than to argue with Elrond when he was with a patient. "I will send riders out to escort the others home."
Elrond nodded dismissively, returning his attention to Eruanna.
Glorfindel left the healing rooms to find his lieutenant awaiting orders. He gave Authion the location of the others. The warden assured Glorfindel that he would find Lady Arwen's company and see them back to Imladris safely.
Once Authion and the others were on their way, Glorfindel headed wearily to his chambers. He bathed as quickly as the water and grime permitted. After dressing in a set of clean robes, he returned to the healing ward. He was not permitted to enter, however, being informed by Caladwen that he was in the way. She ordered him to wait out in the hall. Elrond's lips curled into a smile as the great warrior was ousted by the young healer.
Glorfindel reluctantly obeyed the elleth's command and found himself pacing outside the door. He eventually settled down on a window seat to await news. His gaze drifted to the east. The hour grew late and his thoughts returned to the elves he'd left behind. No others had fallen during the battle, but he worried now that he'd departed before the fighting was done. Perhaps there were more that needed aid. He wished to hear word of the others. He did not have to wait long.
"How is she?" Arwen's voice startled him out of reverie.
Glorfindel stood abruptly as the Lady glided down the hall toward him. Erestor followed along with two wardens carrying a third with an injured leg. Glorfindel watched the trio disappear into the ward. He retuned his attention to Arwen. "Your father is with her still."
Glorfindel looked back down the hall, realizing that someone or ones were missing. "Where are your brothers?" He'd thought they too would come to check on Eruanna.
Arwen frowned. "They wished to be sure no orcs remained in hiding near the border road. They said they would return when the wood was safe."
Arwen sighed. The wood will never be safe. And her brothers would always have reason to ride away. The Lady pushed away those thoughts. She did not have time to worry about her brothers now. "Can we?" she asked Glorfindel, gesturing toward the door.
Glorfindel looked down at Arwen's bloodstained clothes. It would not due for Elrond to see her in such a state. "I would not, if I were you." He gave the Lady a meaningful look. "I think it would be better if you find a bath and a change of clothes first."
Arwen looked down at her blood stained clothes. She was a mess. "I see your point." Arwen lifted her eyes back to Glorfindel to find she was no longer the object of the ellon's attention.
Glorfindel had his eye on Erestor. The ellon stood outside the door leading to the healing ward, peering through the cracked door.
Arwen followed Glorfindel's line of vision. The concern in Glorfindel's eyes could be found in hers as well. Something was wrong with Erestor. He'd not spoken a word since Glorfindel carried Eruanna away.
Glorfindel placed a reassuring hand on Arwen's arm and motioned for her to go.
Arwen cast one last look in Erestor's direction before departing.
Glorfindel waited until Arwen was out of sight before approaching his friend. "Erestor," he placed a hand on the ellon's shoulder. The counselor's muscles spasmed at the unexpected contact.
Glorfindel followed Erestor's gaze through the cracked door. Elrond and Bellasiel were wrapping Eruanna's shoulder while Istuion and Caladwen cared for the injured warden. Glorfindel shifted position to get a better look at Erestor's face. He looked lost, like a child abandoned in a dark wood.
Glorfindel pulled his friend away from the door. "Come, you don't want her to see you like this, do you?" The counselor was a bloody mess, more so even than Glorfindel had been.
Erestor said nothing but allowed himself to be led away from the healing ward. They reached his room, left untouched for more than a hundred years. It would have pleased Erestor, under normal circumstances, but for the moment, he took no notice of his surroundings. Erestor found himself drawn to the window overlooking the garden and stared out at the setting sun.
Glorfindel monitored Erestor's behavior with growing concern. Not knowing what to do or say for the moment, he entered Erestor's private bath and filled the tub with water. He reemerged several minutes later to find the counselor still staring absently out the window.
"Your bath is ready…"
Erestor said nothing.
Glorfindel waited a moment before adding, "Do you need help?" When Erestor failed to respond, Glorfindel lifted a hand to remove his friend's cloak. The Seneschal braced for the fist he half expected to knock him away, but Erestor stood doll-like and unresponsive. This is definitely not good. I need to get him talking, but talking about what?
"When was the last time you visited the training fields, Erestor?" Glorfindel knew the answer, the exact date, in fact, but he could not think of anything else to say.
Erestor sighed; the first sign since his arrival that he could hear Glorfindel. His voice was quiet and sounded quite unused. "Many years ago, long before Eruanna came to us."
Glorfindel breathed a quiet sigh of relief at the sound of his friend's voice. It had been more than three hundred years, a long time ago indeed. Impressed was not a strong enough word to describe Glorfindel's thoughts on the matter. Few could have handled themselves as well, so long out of practice. "None would have known it had they seen you today."
Erestor shuddered at his friend's well-meaning compliment.
The Seneschal did not miss his friend's involuntary response; it was not what one might have expected in answer to praise.
Glorfindel placed his friend's soiled cloak on the ground near the hearth. When Erestor made no effort to unfasten his tunic, Glorfindel once again moved to assist him, ever watchful for some sign his help was not wanted. Erestor had fallen silent once more, his eyes troubled.
It was more than disturbing. The fragile ellon that Glorfindel helped undress was a far cry from the one he'd seen not hours earlier. Glorfindel's eyes flew to Erestor more than once during their battle with the orcs. It was the cool precision of the counselor's blows that caught his eye. All the years Erestor spent striving to become the gentle, wise scholar could not destroy the warrior within.
It was a piece Erestor tried to bury deep inside… and he buried it well, perhaps too well.
It had become a game the House of Elrond played, a running joke among the wardens. They told stories about Erestor, stories passed down through the ages. Trouble was, none living in Imladris remembered those days, and so the young ones saw it as farce. Most were incapable of believing Lord Erestor had ever have been other than he was now, and so they laughed.
Glorfindel doubted the young ones who'd seen Erestor in action today would ever laugh again.
Glorfindel knew the truth about Erestor's past but still there was something that troubled him. He'd sparred with Erestor several times over the last millennium. The ellon that fought in those contests was Lord Erestor, the scholar and teacher, the counselor of Imladris, and he always lost. Glorfindel was not so sure he could defeat the Erestor he saw today.
It felt like he did not know his friend at all.
Glorfindel finished unfastening the final clasp of Erestor's outer tunic and slid the garment off his shoulders. He voiced a thought, more to himself than to his companion. "I should like the chance to spar with the warrior I saw today."
"No!"
The force of that single word would have made any other ellon step back. Glorfindel bristled slightly, the only sign he'd been surprised by the harsh reply. He tossed Erestor's tunic atop the ruined cloak before turning back to his friend. Glorfindel did not know what to make of his fierce response, "Why not?"
Why? Erestor shook his head, unable to form a reasonable, coherent response. "I…I can't."
Glorfindel moved to block his friend's view of the garden, for the first time forcing Erestor to meet his eyes. What he saw in their depths did not surprise him. Glorfindel had seen that haunted look in the eyes of many elves, the ancient ones who'd witnessed too much. Erestor tried to forget, to leave the past behind, but the darkness always returned. In the 7,000 years since the Noldor returned to Middle Earth, not a day passed when they were not prepared for war. One could only escape the violence of Middle Earth for so long.
For so long…how long?
Glorfindel had no idea when Erestor last saw battle. It was before his return to Middle Earth, Glorfindel was sure of that, but how long before? "Do you remember how long it has been since you've fought the enemy?"
Erestor closed his eyes. Do I remember? He would have laughed if the memories were not so terrible. "Lindon, a border skirmish at the beginning of the Second Age."
5,000 years? Glorfindel nearly choked on that number. "A very long time," he whispered. Glorfindel could not fathom how Erestor had managed to avoid killing for so long.
Erestor opened his eyes to find a myriad of emotions crossing his companion's face. He could feel the ellon's shock and disbelief wash over him in waves. For a moment, he thought Glorfindel might think him a coward, but cowardice and lack of skill were not the reasons Erestor turned his back on war. He was not ready to admit the true reason, to himself, or anyone else. "I found my books and peace and tried to forget. It appears I have not succeeded."
In those words some of the mystery surrounding Erestor began to unfold. There was a question Glorfindel wished to ask him, something which he'd always found curious. "Is that why you do not travel, even at others' request?"
Erestor looked away. He made no reply, but in the silence was his answer. Glorfindel understood. Travel was dangerous. It meant carrying a weapon. It meant killing and Erestor would rather stay in the same city for millennia than be forced to kill again.
It was not cowardice, Glorfindel was sure of that, but he didn't think Erestor was ready to share the reason he'd laid down his sword.
Glorfindel leaned against the window frame. If Erestor won't travel even at the request of the Lords of the Eldar…, "Then why did you make the journey to Lórien?"
Erestor's eyes grew wide. He was certain Glorfindel knew the answer to that question, but perhaps he'd been mistaken. "I could not let her travel alone," he replied.
Glorfindel smiled gently, knowing the 'her' in question was not Lady Arwen. "Well, your bath is getting cold. Do you think you can manage from here?"
Erestor lifted a hand to find his first two layers of clothing missing. He cast his gaze around in confusion to find the soiled garments in a pile on the floor. His neck flushed from embarrassment and he offered his friend an apologetic smile, "Yes, I'll be fine."
Glorfindel was no healer, but he was certain Erestor was not fine. He did, however, seem capable of bathing on his own. Glorfindel nodded and turned to leave Erestor in peace. As he reached for the doorknob he heard a quiet voice call his name.
"Glorfindel," Erestor paused, unsure of what it was he wanted to say. Too many thoughts, memories and fears wished to be set free, but he was not ready to share them with another. There were only two words appropriate for a moment such as this and they were spoken with deepest sincerity, "thank you."
Glorfindel accepted Erestor's gratitude with a nod before closing the door behind him.
He headed back to the healing rooms but his thoughts remained with Erestor.
He knew that men had a saying, 'time heals all wounds', but no mortal could fathom a life extending for ages beyond their own, lives filled with more grief and despair than any man would ever know. No, it was possible to live for millennia with wounds buried deep, so deep as to be forgotten. It was only in those rare moments, when one let down his guard, that a sharp pain could be felt, a reminder of the secrets buried within.
Healing only came from confronting the demons that haunted you, and even then, peace was not a guarantee. How many nights have I awakened to the smell of my own flesh burning? At least those who died had opportunity to heal in Namo's Halls. Those who lived were given only the pain of eternal memory, and Erestor buried his deep within.
Perhaps one day you will find the strength to bare these secrets, my friend, and heal your fractured fëa.