Erestor bit down on a groan. Climbing stairs was too much. Elrond's arm snaked quickly around his waist. Warmth and healing flowed into his ailing body.
"Forgive me, but your injuries must wait." Elrond's voice was soft and full of concern. "Getting to safety is our top priority." Valandil stepped beside them and they guided the injured elf quickly up the stairs. They stopped to peer out a slim open window.
"The wind screeches ill tidings." Elrond muttered absently. The garden before them was filled with at least fifty of the enemy soldiers. He felt the morale of his companions sink but pushed the worries away and focused on reaching out to the golden warrior. Sometimes, they could communicate mind to mind as long as they were not too distant.
"The wind?" Erestor repeated the comment in surprise. They were sheltered in the building! There was but a little air coming through the window. How horrible was this evil that his friend already could hear it on the wind?
"Glorfindel, we found him. Where are you?" Elrond reached out to his friend.
"Our forces have just arrived. We gather in the woods behind the gardens. We will advance once you are safe." Glorfindel sent Elrond views of the gathered soldiers of men and quickly summarized the situation.
"Is he alright?" Valandil whispered urgently in Erestor's ear. Elrond stood with eyes closed, and they noted slight tremors periodically rocked his frame. They could hear voices from the basement echo up the stairwell, while here only a single wall separated them from a slew of opponents. Their situation seemed beyond dire.
"He speaks with Glorfindel. I pray there are many of our warriors poised to intercept these enemies." Erestor summoned all his remaining strength.
Xxxxxxxxxx
Celeborn and Haldir accompanied King Meneldil and a team of warriors. Intelligence indicated that the elves and several other captives were held in the basement of the administrative wing while Senetan gathered his men upstairs. It had been a little over an hour since Elrond's warning and several fleeing administrators and domestic servants had confirmed the attempted coup.
"We will enter at three points." Meneldil and the Steward Arandur pointed to the maps. "That will take their guards by surprise and give us immediate access to those held prisoner." All quickly agreed to the measure and in record time they had stormed the palace, overwhelming the smaller occupying force.
Celeborn and Haldir advanced easily, cutting down their foes with deadly precision. Neither of their minds held any mercy for these traitors. Evil men who had dared to take elves hostage. Not all men were evil, but the events of the last week had dampened any inkling Celeborn had ever fostered about welcoming men into the Golden Woods. Their King, now in Namo's care, had long ago limited contact with the other kindred.
"To the left." Celeborn barked as they came to the intersecting hallways. "Arandur said the most secure rooms are located this way." Enemies impeding their progress were rapidly dispatched, bringing them suddenly to the locked room where a lone sentry had fallen. Haldir rifled through the dead guard's pocket to retrieve the key to the cell. He threw it to Celeborn. Seconds later the door swung open and those inside gave a collective gasp. The room was filled with prisoners both administrators and captured guards. All fell back in fear as Celeborn and Haldir entered, for the elven warriors' hands and swords were drenched in blood and their faces were painted with wrath.
"Lord Celeborn! Over here." Cirulian shouted. The others parted to let the elves pass. Cirulian and Beleg were seated by a limp figure, whose head was wrapped in a blood soaked makeshift bandage.
"Rúmil!" Haldir cried and dropped down next to his brother.
Xxxxxxxxxx
"Follow my lead and do not speak unless absolutely necessary." Elrond gifted Erestor a last bit of healing strength before straightening. A minute later they were advancing out the door into a field populated with enemies.
"Elbereth protect us." The three of them silently prayed.
"Soldier!" The captain called over the moment he sighted them. His eyes narrowed as he assessed their gear. Elrond returned the Captain's salute. "There is not a moment to spare. Get chest armor from the cart and chose an extra weapon. Then line up in the gardens." The detour would take them further away from their goal, but there was nothing to be done about it.
"Yes captain." Elrond bowed slightly, projecting that peculiar blend of cockiness and uncertainty of a young warrior.
"Why are there three of you?" The captain asked suspiciously.
"Sandor's partner was called to aid in the transfer of the prisoners. We seek Healer Falmar to care for Sandor's sprained ankle."
"Falmar has no time for that now. Line up." The captain turned to face Erestor. "Can you fight?"
"Yes Captain."
"Good Sandor. Your sacrifices are noted." He slapped Erestor on the back in camaraderie. Erestor swallowed a cry of pain. "See the healer once we return to Lord Amdil's estate."
"Yes, Captain." Erestor kept his tone and manner submissive. He walked unaided, though clearly favored his right leg. The captain was obviously satisfied with their explanations and turned his attention elsewhere. Elrond spoke for the three of them and they found themselves in a line to receive leather shirts studded with metal rivets. Next they chose long swords and strapped them around their waists. After passing a brief inspection, they were directed back to the gardens.
"Fifth row, see Wender for further orders." The officer pointed. After another short exchange they set off for the garden. The other soldiers they passed seemed strangely possessed as if they believed whole-heartedly that their cause was righteous.
"They seem the average soldiers." Erestor whispered. "Do they not know their true goal?"
"I would be hard pressed to tell them from our own guard." Valandil mused softly. "Little wonder our escort was fooled." They had made it half way across when the announcement came.
"The elf has escaped! Search the grounds!" A group of hostages, healers by the look of them, were being herded from the building. Their escort looked frighteningly familiar.
"Keep going." Elrond hissed even as he called to Glorfindel to alert him. They appeared to meander through the soldiers attempting to not to draw attention.
"Halt!" The voice echoed horrifyingly in Erestor's head. A sword rang as it was drawn.
"You must reach the gardens." Elrond's quiet order was clearly not to be argued with. He turned and drew his sword in one fluid motion. It rang out loudly as it met Amdil's.
"Traitors deserve death." Amdil sneered.
"Lord Amdil, it is you who is the traitor!" Elrond's voice boomed loudly. The wind cried danger. Amdil stepped back slightly. "Amdil colluded with his brother Senetan and Healer Falmar to poison your Queen. He planned an assassination attempt against your Prince." Elrond deftly countered Amdil's thrusts. They were locked now in a duel and Amdil's men stared on flabbergasted. Elrond called loudly over the clashes of metal on metal. "Are these the actions of a noble Lord? Do you really want to give your lives for such men? You are surrounded by five hundred royal guards."
Xxxxxxxxxx
"They are coming. Search for your prince and Lords Elrond and Erestor. They are disguised as enemy soldiers." Glorfindel informed the Captain of the Guard.
Valandil and Erestor did not turn back. They made a beeline towards the trees towards safety. Erestor's ribs throbbed and each breath brought additional pain. Valandil's arm curled around Erestor's waist in support.
"Halt!" A knife flashed close to Valandil's cheek. "Identify yourselves."
"I am Valandil. Harmon, lower your weapon."
"My prince! Thank the Valar you are safe." Harmon immediately lowered his blade. "Are you injured?"
"Lord Erestor's injuries require immediate care." Valandil told Glorfindel.
"Elrond is still out there - dueling with Amdil." Erestor coughed as he tried to catch his breath. "Go to him. I will be fine." A long look passed between the two elven warriors and then Glorfindel nodded and turned. Captain Harmon ordered his men forward.
"Drop your weapons and we will show mercy." Captain Harmon's voice boomed.
"No mercy!" Hissed a new voice of a dark figure that stood but fifteen feet in back of the dueling pair. Its very tone sent chills of paranoia and hatred through all present. "Kill them all!" The treacherous soldiers started forward, driven to act by this powerful being. A knife swirled soundlessly from the evil one impaling Lord Amdil in the back of the head. He fell forward forcing Elrond to step back. The sickening thud sent waves of horror through the half-elf. It was a horror that he suddenly recognized. Elrond's quick reflexes enabled him to knocked aside the morgul blade that flew in his direction. The blade hissed with evil as it clashed against his sword.
"Be gone, you servant of evil." Elrond shouted. He stepped forward toward the Nazgul, now recognizing its true nature. It screeched at the human that dared to challenge him. Its burning eyes were suddenly visible, emitting cold, hatred, and despair outwards in waves.
"Men are nothing. Eru has nothing prepared for you. You end as dust, disintegrating to nothingness. You are worthless." The wraith's evil invaded his being and made him tremble. Elrond was thankful that this servant of the dark one thought him a man, making its mental assault less effective. Its mistake brought a small smile to the peredhel's face. He noted how the battle continued around them as if the others were under some type of spell. It was as if Elrond alone had recognized this evil poised before them. Its identity had been hidden until Elrond had named it. Understanding dawned.
"Men of Arnor!" Elrond endowed his voice will all the power he could spare. "Look at the true face of your enemy and unite! It is a Nazgul. One of Sauron's minions." The evil leader screeched and advanced towards his foe.
"You are but a man! You cannot kill me! You will beg for death once I am done with you." The dark figure hissed unaware of who it was that stood in front of him.
"You are one of the lesser wraith Kings." Elrond taunted, betting that the men did not know whom they had truly served. Nazgul drew forth a mace and the spell was suddenly broken. Amdil's men halted like puppets on a string now devoid of their puppeteer. Elrond held up the sword in defiance, although his heart was suddenly uncertain as he realized this sword was one of the enemy blades not his well tempered sword Hadhafang. There was precious little time to dwell on that fact before the mace made contact with the foreign blade and shattered it. Elrond dived to escape. He rolled to the left and swiftly rebounded to standing. He pulled his only remaining weapon, a long knife, from his belt. The Nazgul was nearly upon him. His mace was symmetrically topped with deadly spikes. It swung towards him with amazing speed, but Elrond had the presence of mind to dash out of harms way. Yet, the very air glistened with evil, penetrating his body with sickening cold. If it were possible to forgo breath, he would have, for the evil seemed to seep in through his lungs. The Nazgul screeched in rage, its burning eyes locking with Elrond's as it focused and aimed its weapon. Elrond's connection with the wind had been strengthened by the use of Vilya, but he had left the ring in the security of Imladris. His call to the wind did not go unanswered, however, and it gusted as the Nazgul swung the mace, knocking the weapon momentarily off balance. The wraith snarled and quickly recovered. But the minute pause was enough to allow Elrond time to dodge the blow. He raised his knife and made a split second decision: head or neck. Both were shrouded in darkness, neither truly visible. Elrond hurled the knife towards his foe. A perfect hit! It sliced through the left side of the wraith's neck. But the only consequences appeared to be to the knife as it smoked and burned like mere hay. The Nazgul merely laughed.
"Your feeble weapon can not hurt me. Your time is at an end." The Nazgul sensed victory and moved in for the final blow. The man had stumbled and was scrambling to regain his footing. But a fiery arrow from beyond them carved a flaming path through the wraith's clock, setting it aflame. A golden form of an elf dashed forward to step in front of the man as if to protect him. The Nazgul's anger echoed in a mighty roar.
"Return to your master empty handed." Glorfindel ordered. His sword knocked the mace from the creature's grasp as flames ate at the dark fabric. An unearthly scream followed. The despair and horror chilled the air, the remnants of the black breath. It slowly dissipated replaced by streaming sunlight. Glorfindel turned to assess their situation. The combined forces of Muriel and Meneldil's guards were quickly overwhelming the stunned and now leaderless enemy soldiers.
"Aim for the head next time - perhaps between the eyes." Elrond muttered as he moved beside Glorfindel.
"You made a perfect throw." Glorfindel praised, throwing his arm around his best friend. They would commit the knife's lack of effectiveness to memory. There was no substituted for experience. "When did you suspect a Nazgul was present?"
"I only just guessed. Erestor?"
"He and Valandil are safe. I would hazard to guess that he is already receiving medical attention." Glorfindel handed Elrond a familiar sword – Hadhafang and briefly grasped his friend's arm as if to reassure himself that he was whole and well.
"I prayed for this a few minutes ago." Elrond admitted softly.
"You broke his spell without it. Although you are fortunate that I have some practice recognizing your disguises. It was a trial to pick you out amongst a field of men." Glorfindel smile at his Lord's disheveled appearance as well as the haircut but made no comment.
"Come now!" Elrond chided. "Did not the appearance of the Nazgul help narrow your search?"
Xxxxxxxxx
"Adar! Rúmil!" Celebrían rushed forward to kiss her foster brother lightly and embrace her father. She led them quickly to the triage area, where Lúnril had taken charge. The young healer was busy giving instructions to the many volunteers.
"Celebrían, Rúmil will need surgery. Have you a place prepared?"
"Surgery?" A sob escaped Celebrían. Lúnril hurried over.
"This way, my Lord. Celebrían, can you separate the wounded by the severity of their injuries?" Celebrían nodded and with those parting words found herself in charge of their makeshift hospital. Luckily, she had completed several healing internships. She prayed in thanks for her Naneth's insistence that she develop many different skills. The new wave of patients had another dear friend among them.
"Erestor!" She gasped and moved quickly to help him.
Xxxxxxxxx
Glorfindel hovered nearby, both to assist Elrond with the injured and to be sure that his friend was well protected. He had lost count of how many men they had tended on the field. They were the triage station, the first line of treatment. Elrond moved amongst them, assessing, treating, and leaving instructions for others to follow up. The newly freed healers had quickly adapted and were furiously working.
"Lord Glorfindel!" An urgent call pulled the golden warrior upright. He glanced at Elrond, who was focused completely on the patient.
"Here." Glorfindel stood to address the elf. "What is the situation?"
"Lord Celeborn sends for Elrond. Rúmil suffered a severe head wound. They are treating him at the palace but he needs Elrond's expertise. Can you find him?"
"I will send him right away." Glorfindel held back a smile. Few would recognize the peredhel in his current state. The guard nodded and left. Glorfindel bent down to where Elrond was stitching up an arm wound. For men, wounds in the extremities could be extremely dangerous. If a major artery was nicked, the person might bleed out in less than five minutes.
"Elrond are you well?" It was unusual for Elrond not to answer a direct question and Glorfindel noted the perspiration that beaded on the elf lord's normally composed face. He ran his hands along his friend's head and torso. He felt a small bruise at the back of his head but nothing serious. He could sense the pain building.
"Elrond?" Glorfindel rubbed his friend's shoulders gently in an effort to relax the tense muscles and provide some relief for the developing migraine.
"Almost done." Elrond responded quietly, thankful for the relief the gentle massage offered. "It is merely a headache, a product of a stressful few days."
"Rúmil needs your aid." Glorfindel related once Elrond had finished the stitches. Elrond nodded and called for one of the young healers to finish the bandages. Then he and Glorfindel rose and made their way to the palace. Two of the royal guards flanked the pair for the short walk.
Xxxxxxxxx
"Halt! Elves only passed this point." The young Galadhrim's tone was benevolent but it triggered memories in Elrond's tired, throbbing head. His mere appearance could evoke hatred or awe. Very few fell in between. He closed his eyes against the memories.
"Please give me, your humble servant, the strength to aid both the callous and the kind. Help me to persevere and to carry out your will." Elrond whispered in prayer to Eru Ilúvatar. As if in answer a strong supportive hand grasped his shoulder and Glorfindel's light soothed him.
"Elrond, are you well?" The golden warrior whispered.
"Lord Elrond?" Roval stuttered. His tone carried both awe and embarrassment at having not recognized the great elf lord. "Come this way, Rúmil needs your aid."
"Has Erestor been cared for?" Elrond's concern was palpable. The junior healer instantly recognized her Lord's voice, although her eyes widened as she took in his appearance. She wisely chose to focus on the matters at hand.
"It is good to see you my Lord. Erestor is in healing sleep. I had to reset two of his ribs. That was the most serious damage. Lady Celebrían is treating his other injuries."
"And Rúmil?" Elrond swiftly followed Lúnril as the junior healer proceeded to update him on the situation. Lord Celeborn's eyes widen when he saw the exhausted peredhel enter the operating room sporting a man's haircut. It was an image belonging to the first age when the peredhil had headed off with a contingent of men to fight in the War of the Wraith. He opened his mouth to ask a question but then shook it away. Rúmil needed Elrond's full attention.
"Your assessment was quite accurate." Elrond praised Lúnril hoarsely. The tone gave Celeborn pause. "The bleeding must be stopped and the excess blood drained. Lúnril we will need those fresh healing herbs to pack the wound and the powders from my room that promote tissue regeneration. Celeborn may I count on your assistance?"
"Of course." Celeborn nodded and called to his wife mind-to-mind. Galadriel was also a skilled healer. Elrond started out providing descriptions and observations, but these came less and less frequent as the hours passed.
"The blood vessels that weep need to be found and healed or else there will be dire consequences." Galadriel watched through her husband's eyes providing commentary on the different techniques that Elrond was employing.
"That is the third technique you have tried." Celeborn said aloud as he watched in wonderment. Elrond did not respond. Over the next hour he barely spoke but to ask for an instrument or for the blood to be wiped away from the incision site, so demanding was the task. Celeborn could see the strain he was under as beads of perspiration gathered on Elrond's brow.
"Damn Migraine." Elrond pushed the thought away and tried to focus, although the pain pulsed rhythmically. Perhaps Celeborn had spoken but could not be sure over the cacophony in his head. Again, he let some of his healing energy seep into Rúmil. He counted the last sections silently as he assessed the area. "Four …. three … two …. one. Thank Eru the bleeding had finally ceased."
"Elrond?" Celeborn noted how the peredhel trembled.
"The surgery was taxing." Galadriel reassured him. "If it is a migraine, he will need rest but he will be fine."
"It has been a draining week for all of us." Celeborn sent another silent prayer to Elbereth to protect his foster son, who lay too pale against the white table.
"Please." Elrond's whisper brought Celeborn back to attention. "Pack the wound with the herbs that Lúnril has prepared. They will inhibit internal bleeding and promote healing." The Peredhel stepped aside to allow Celeborn and Lúnril room to finish. A gentle hand wrapped around his shoulder but he had closed his eyes to ward off the nausea hoping to finally give into exhaustion. Unfortunately, he knew from experience that the clashing migraine would prohibit true rest.
"This way." Glorfindel grimaced at the waves of pain that emanated outward from his friend. He guided him to the nearby sink and helped him wash the blood from his hands and take off the soiled apron. Then Glorfindel manuevered his friend out of the surgery and through the maze of corridors. Elrond's eyes remained closed for most of the journey. He was silent and his brow was creased with pain. Somehow, they traversed the large distance to their suite quickly. Soon Glorfindel was easing him down onto a bed.
"Pull the curtains closed." Glorfindel directed. Some commotion ensued and the room was bathed in darkness, although Elrond still did not open his eyes.
"My Lady." Glorfindel turned to find Celebrían carrying a try with a steaming cup and a wet cloth. She silenced him with a finger to her lips and set the tray down. She eased the hot compress over her beloved's eyes and forehead.
"Hot." He hissed as he noisily exhaled.
"It will help." Celebrían reached out with her mind to touch that of her beloved. The pain and memories that reverberated through his mind were frightening. He made a tremendous effort to erect a wall around his thoughts but in his migraine weakened state it could not stand against the daughter of the Lady of Light and the Celeborn the Wise.
"No." His voice was barely a whisper as the barrier collapsed. He felt her admonishment.
"Beloved, do not hide from me. We shall share both the sweet and the bitter. I am strong enough. I will not break." She spoke mind to mind as she squeezed his hand. She lifted his head slightly and gently coaxed the willow bark mixture into him.
"Half-elf." An unknown voice sneered. She felt his remembered pain and humiliation. Loud voices and hateful images flooded her mind. Pain flared as a knife slash deliberately along a small wrist. Numbness followed a child's tearful prayers to Namo. A harp sounded and a beautiful tenor offered hope. Her own tears slid silently down her cheek. She was thankful that his eyes were hidden under the hot towel.
"Not worthy of you." He whispered in a pained voice. "just a …"
"Hush, beloved." She silenced him with a gentle kiss on the lips. She could feel his pain and something else - a lingering darkness that spoke of the black breath. "I am most blessed by your love and love you deeply in return. There is nothing hidden in your memories that could change my love for you. Rest easy, El-nin. You will feel better tomorrow." She focused her love and support towards him sharing with him her own peaceful memories of long afternoons among the Mallorns. A long while passed before he finally fell into a healing sleep.
Xxxxxxxxx
"We should search Amdil's plantation." Valandil suggested.
"Are there any with experience to recognize the evil magic of the Nazgul or the symbols of the black speech? Its presence at the healing halls serves as a warning. Great caution should be observed as you inspect the premises." Queen Muriel brow furled in thought.
"In that I can be of service." Glorfindel offered.
"If the great balrog slayer will join us, our men will have little to fear." The steward declared.
"Those who do not fear Sauron's minions have little wisdom." Meneldil shivered in remembrance of the evil talisman. "But it is best to make sure we wipe any trace of the Nazgul from these lands. Any inroads that they make will only give them whet their appetite for further conquest. I would that both Arnor and Gondor are strong, independent kingdoms with close ties to each other."
"Than it is settled. Valandil will gather our warriors and survey the plantation." Queen Muriel said firmly. Her son straightened at this surprising development, for his Mother had appointed him to lead the effort.
"You have more than proven yourself, Valandil." Glorfindel praised softly. Meneldil concurred.
"But unfortunately, some of our allies were grievously injured." Valandil's voice was ripe with sorrow. "Is there any word on Erestor or Rúmil?"
"Erestor will recover quickly. Rúmil came through the surgery well." Celeborn reported.
"Healer Lótte has taken charge of the hospital as Master Falmar is being held for conspiracy." Arandur ended the meeting with a report on the wounded status and the situation at the house of healing.
Xxxxxxxxx
Swirling dreams of happiness curled in his too-foggy brain. He was warm and comfortable, sprawled out on a soft mattress. He had no recollection of coming to bed. A warm body snuggled tightly against him. His shirt was unbuttoned and a warm hand rested on his bare chest over his heart. "It was a dream. It had to be." He kept his eyes closed against the disappointment that waking would bring. But as his mind crept closer to waking he noted soft warm breath in his ear and felt the peace of his beloved's mind touching his own.
"Celebrían?" He breathed in astonishment. His eyes widening as he glimpsed the beautiful silver hair. She pressed closer in response and stirred. Her stunning eyes met his and a radiant smile spread across her face.
"Beloved." She breathed moments before their lips met. The kiss began gently, a confirmation that both were alive and well, but soon escaladed at their joyous reunion to a desperate passion to sample each other. Breathes intermingled as tongues swept and dueled and hands boldly cupped the other's head. Fingers were equally joyous in exploring silken hair. Celebrian moaned than chuckled, the noise muffled by the kiss as she gently twirled her fingers in the too short hair.
"Now I know what you looked like as a young elfling." Elrond perceived her joyous thoughts mind-to-mind through their deepening connection.
"It seems I am at a disadvantage, not being afforded a glimpse of you as a child."
"I promise to share those memories with you in time." Celebrian's voice broke the dream and Elrond for the first time noted their compromising location - in a bed no less.
"Adar knows quite well where I am." Celebrian smile slyly as she leaned forward to kiss his ear. "I do not think we shall be … interrupted."