"Breath Penneth." Glorfindel gently rubbed at Valandil's back. The prince was bent over and had just vomited into the bush. Glorfindel handed Valandil his canteen. "Water to rinse your mouth."
"Thanks." Valandil mumbled weakly. A number of the younger soldiers had similar reactions including Haldir, who was currently huddled next to his foster father. Celeborn was tenderly caring for his son. The basement of Lord Amdir's manor had held unspeakable horrors. The darkness had concealed tortured and abused prisoners. All of whom were now in Mandos' care. The Ulairi's goals in returning appeared two fold. It had ruthlessly ended the captives' lives and attempted to eliminate evidence of its horrendous deeds.
"Had we advanced but a half hour earlier, we might have been able to save them." Valandil whispered.
"And yet, judging from their state, perhaps death was humane." Meneldil pulled his cousin to standing.
"The Ulairi did not kill them out of kindness." Glorfindel's voice was hoarse.
"No the fires were meant to obscure what transpired here." Valandil mused. His cousin nodded in agreement.
"The books we recovered will likely hold the tale of their imprisonment." Celeborn noted softly to Glorfindel.
"It is not one that I would wish to read. Definitely not a tale for the dark of night." Glorfindel shuddered, knowing that the Ulairi's account would be written in the dark tongue.
"See how much Athelas is available. No one who traversed those rooms will remain unaffected. We do not wish to risk any further loss of lives to the dark and evil hallucinations conjured by the black breath."
"I shall see to it immediately." Glorfindel turned and squeezed Valandil's shoulder. "Stay here, young one. I will return shortly."
"Sleep will not come easily this night." Celeborn fought to keep away the memories of his own battles with the black breath.
"Nor for many months to come." Meneldil predicted.
Xxxxxxxxxxxx
"Orcs and an Ulairi were found at the manor!" Celebrían gasped at the news. She could feel an undercurrent of worry from Elrond, through their growing bond, but Elrond's mien betrayed no emotions as he silently scanned Glorfindel's letter. "How can he be so stoic!" She thought as she squeezed Muriel's hand in support.
"None of the orcs escaped, but the Ulairi fled on one of its winged mounts." The scout continued with his description of ensuing battle and the ruined manor.
"Were there casualties?" Muriel fought to keep apprehension from her voice.
"There were many injuries but few casualties. The Prince sent a list. They are primarily worry about the effects of the black breath. I think Lord Glorfindel sent a list of the types of injuries that were sustained and the aide that is needed."
"Yes, he did." Elrond paused as he considered the requests. "It will take at least an hour to gather the necessary items. Is the situation safe enough for some healers to accompany those returning?"
"We will go by ship for that route is faster. The manor is now secured, although no one would risk staying inside. Once they have thoroughly evaluated the site, they are planning to demolish the building."
"A wise decision." Elrond agreed. "We did the same to the fortress of Barad-dûr, in the hopes that it would prevent or delay the enemy from returning."
"You think the darkness will return?" Muriel's voice shook ever so slightly.
"The One was not destroyed." Elrond observed.
"But maybe it is lost forever."
"I hope that is the case."
XXxxxxxxxxx
"How long since the messenger left?" Celeborn grimaced as he heaved another shovel full of earth over hole. They had carefully extracted the remains of the unfortunate people from the cellars. All agreed that these poor souls deserved a decent burial in a peaceful location.
"Six hours. I expect Elrond has already received the news. They must be busy coordinating the healers and gathering demolition supplies." Glorfindel paused to study the Silver Lord. "How is your arm? Did you not stab it?"
"Nothing I have not dealt with before."
"Stubborn Sindar! The black breath is not to be taken so lightly."
"I expect some unpleasant dreams ere I recover."
"Why did you not attend the gathering? At least we could have bathed your arm and the aroma would have eased the symptoms."
"Others have greater need." Celeborn shrugged and turned away.
Xxxxxxxxxxx
"I will go with the patrol to bring healing herbs and supplies." Celebrían declared.
"No, it is too dangerous." Elrond disagreed. Celebrían bristled at his tone, which was more akin to that of Gil-Galad's herald than the gentle healer she was familiar with.
"The Ulairi has fled and his force was eliminated. He will not return there." Celebrían reasoned.
"You can not know that. Great atrocities were committed there and danger may still be near. Stay here."
"You do not order me - neither now nor once we are married." Her eyes flashed in anger and her voice mirrored that of her mother. Elrond's eyes went wide in surprise at having provoked her ire.
"Your Adar would not approve. Please, do not go. Others can take care of this." His voice regained its usual warmth.
"It is a brief journey to the docks and a short trip by water. You already proposed sending several of the junior healers. I have some skills in that area as well and I would see my Adar."
"I will accompany you."
"In his letter, Glorfindel specifically advised against you traveling. You are needed here to advise the healers. You said yourself that Rúmil's head wound needs to be drained and packed with healing herbs. You would trust no other. Neither would Adar."
"Celebrían, please reconsider." Elrond shook his head in bemusement as he grasped for the best way to persuade her. "Your Adar will return in two days. There is no need for you to risk traveling."
"My mind is made up." Celebrían's tone brokered no argument. "They will need herbs to counter the black breath."
Xxxxxxxxxxxx
Erestor turned away from the raised voices. He had observed some of their argument from a distance. He went to seek Cirulian in anticipation of Elrond's next order. Coincidentally the Teleri guard was close by.
"Cirulian, they are preparing to send another party to Amdil's estate."
"Elrond should not go. He is needed here." Cirulian brusquely cut him off.
"Elrond is not your only charge." Erestor pointed out.
"You can not tell me that Celebrían plans to go!" It sounded as if Cirulian snorted. Erestor shook his head, of course elves did not snort.
"She is gathering the healers now."
"Elrond should forbid it."
"Ah, you have been neither married nor betrothed."
"Certainly not to one as stubborn as the Galadriel and Celeborn's offspring."
"I remind you they are nobility and would not take kindly to your words. But Elrond attempted and is likely still attempting to persuade her otherwise. In case he is unsuccessful, I am sure that he will request…"
"That I gather the remaining elves to accompany her." Cirulian grimaced. "But that will leave Elrond unguarded."
"I will remain here to shadow him. He will be primarily occupied in the house of healing."
"Can you go back there so soon after what happened?" Cirulian gaped
"Those responsible have been captured or killed." The steel in Erestor's voice impressed the guard. "It is much safer here versus the manor of a known enemy."
"So be it."
Xxxxxxxxxx
Night descended on their makeshift camp. Most of the soldiers stayed close to the bonfires. No one dared enter the manor for shelter, so dark and oppressive was the air inside. Celeborn had kept himself occupied all day, directing the reconnaissance efforts as well as helping with the burials. But with the darkness the black breath seized greater hold. Celeborn's vision swam alarmingly, forcing him to follow the song of the trees. He squatted to sit under the shelter of a majestic oak. Its rich aroma and baritone song were as an anchor as the dark dreams threatened. Across the compound, Glorfindel was too busy negotiating with Valandil on assigning both elves and men to stand watch.
"We have ample men for the watch." Valandil protested. "There is no need to put you, our guests in further jeopardy."
"There is little risk in our participation." Glorfindel switched tactics. "You know as well as I do that elves do not need as much sleep. The ground and trees sing laments of the horrors that have occurred here. I think many elves would find the distractions of the watch preferable to quiet reflections of a sleepless night."
Xxxxxxxxxx
"Stay safe Celebrían – may Elbereth keep you safe." Elrond lovingly tucked the stray silver hair behind her elegant ear. "I only desire your safety. Never would I seek to coerce or constrain you."
"Adar needs me. I will be careful." She kissed his cheek and gave him a mock glare as she teased. "In the mean time, I do not wish to hear about how you overworked yourself."
"I will make sure of that." Erestor placed his hand over his heart as a sign of his promise.
"I shall hold you to it." Celebrían laughed at Elrond's raised brow. "But the boat will leave without me if I am not careful." She waved and accompanied the several of the junior healers onto the boat. Moments later her telltale silver hair was hidden beneath an elven hooded cloak. The Teleri guard discreetly kept his distance but kept his Lord's beloved ever within his sight.
Xxxxxxxxxx
"Never have I been so relieved to catch sight of a boat."
"Our last night in Númenor, we crept aboard the ships under cover of darkness." Meneldil remembered, the black breath enhancing and altering the childhood memory. "So many did not make it."
"Yet many did and were saved. We will strengthen two Kingdoms to keep them safe." Valandil promised.
"Yes, together we shall." Meneldil clapped his cousin on the shoulder. They moved forward to greet Captain Harman, who was directing guards to shadow the few healers that had accompanied them.
"Harman were you able to secure the necessary items?" Valandil asked.
"We have ample healing supplies. Lord Elrond directed me to set up a brew of athelas at the center of the camp and add fresh leaves hourly."
"Lord Glorfindel advises the same thing."
"I have brought many extra hands to aid in the search of the manor and ultimately in its destruction." Harmon paused as he realized that the prince was no longer listening to him. He was staring at silver hair that peeked from one of the new arrivals' hood.
"Is that?" Valandil stuttered and shook his head in blatant disbelief. "Elrond did not send?"
"I doubt that one does anyone's bidding." Harmon said cryptically. "She seeks her father and would not take no for an answer." Valandil turned and scanned the field of workers for the balrog slayer. He easily found the golden figure and hurried over to where he was surveying the injured.
"Those most exposed to the black breath should leave as soon as it is light." Glorfindel explained.
"Lord Glorfindel, your assistance is required." Valandil interrupted.
Xxxxxxxxxx
Erestor shadowed his friend and lord. He was ever vigilant but discreet. If Elrond was aware of his guardian, he gave no sign. The Edain had lost two of their Master healers. Master Salabart's tragic suicide was likely a murder in disquise. Master Falmar was being held on charges of treason and murder. The younger healers quickly learned to consult Elrond with their questions after he had taken charge of the triage efforts. The elven healer moved from room to room, beckoned by this or that junior healer. The apprentices and advanced students discussed their cases together and reporting on problems and treatments to the Elrond and the Healer Lótte. He witnessed several procedures including the draining of infected wounds, the difficult resetting of crushed ankle. He watched in awe as his friend handed a crying infant to the midwife. He listened as the skilled healer succinctly explained methods to remove the afterbirth all while deftly suturing its mother.
"Do you worry about blood loss to the Mother?" Lótte inquired. She had neither attempted nor observed such birth before. Healers performed an episiotomy in similar situations, where the baby was too large for the birth canal. But they were rarely successful in cases as dire as this one.
"Yes, infection and hemorrhages are the two great risks. It is a procedure only to be used in the most difficult situations." His efficiency was breathtaking. Mere moments after pointing out the folds of the uterus, they were swiftly joined. "Both speed and precision are utmost in saving the Mother's life."
Xxxxxxxxx
"You should not be here. What were you thinking?" Glorfindel stated.
"I am not one of your soldiers Lord Glorfindel. Neither you nor your Lord have jurisdiction over me. I am here to see my Adar. If you are so worried over my well-being, than I suggest that you lead me to him or guide me to Haldir." Celebrían's azure eyes bore into him until he finally broke from her gaze.
"As you wish my Lady." Glorfindel gave in, although he doubted that either Celeborn or Haldir would greet her happily. The ensuing search went on for nearly an hour and dusk had given way to darkness when Haldir emerged from the manor with the final group of scouts.
"Haldir, have you seen Adar?" Celebrían moved to embrace him. Haldir's eyes were creased as if in pain.
"Celebrían? You should not be here." Haldir bristled.
"And Naneth should not best you at the sword." She countered as she pulled him towards the fire and the refreshing aroma of athelas. "But come near the hearth, for I feel the chill of the black breath upon you."
"Was Celeborn still inside?" Glorfindel whispered as they moved towards the campfire. Cirulian heard the unspoken command and motioned for several warriors to accompany him on a search for the Lady's Adar.
"No, he had been in there much of the day. He was leaving when the group I was with entered." Haldir reported as he clutched his foster sister's hand.
Xxxxxxxxx
Exhausted, Elrond stumbled over to the sink where he haphazardly splashed his face with water. He sought the fragile connection that he shared with Celebrían. She was far from his protection. All he could tell was that she was deeply worried.
"Come Peredhel." A familiar voice teased lightly and Erestor's hand gently squeezed his shoulder. "You have made me tired just guarding you."
"You are well enough to guard?" Elrond squinted as he allowed himself to be led to a corner chair.
"More than I can say for you." Erestor thrust a glass into Elrond's hand and paused pointedly as he motioned for his friend to take a sip. "I understand and agree with your decision to send most of our sentries with Celebrían, but you, my dear friend, should never remain unguarded."
"I am just a simple healer today." Elrond lips slid into a sly smile as he sipped gratefully at the Miruvor.
"You are not a simple anything!" The bright laughter of the normally serious councilor chimed.
Xxxxxxxxxx
"Where would he have gone?" Glorfindel was nearly at his wits end. They had searched the entire encampment and had found no sign of the Silver Lord. Even the Prince and King had inquired among their men but none had seen the Sindar Lord in several hours. Celebrían spoke up suddenly.
"Glorfindel gather a group of elves to accompany me into the forest." The reborn warrior's look of confusion prompted her to explain. "If Adar were suffering from the black breath he would have sought peace in the songs of the trees."
"I will gather the rest of the guard from Lothlórien." Glorfindel abruptly hurried away.
"Haldir, please gather some athelas and my small healing bag." Celebrían ordered.
"My Lady please consider taking some of our men with you. For any men you come upon in the woods may be frightened by the presence of so many elves." Prince Valandil pleaded softly.
"My Adar would not have gone that far. Perhaps he sought sanctuary in one of the great oaks that lie but a mile or two from here."
Xxxxxxxxxx
The air was thick with smoke, ash, and the putrid scent of death. The fires of Mount Doom burned relentlessly, painting the sky in bleak, muted colors befitting the land of shadows.
"What hope?" The elf gasped weakly, blood sprayed from his lips as he coughed. Elrond blinked, trying to push away the many implications of the simple question. He probed the elf's wounds. They had battled long hours this morning and since his return he found himself mostly powerless and unable to save many of his fellow soldiers. The chest underneath his shaking fingers was marred by three sword gashes. The blow that slipped through the fifth and sixth rib was mortal. The wood elf's lungs were already filled with blood.
"I am sorry I can not do more than hold your hand." Elrond stroked the light brown head. Unconsciously, some of his healing energy flowed into the youth, easing the tight, pained features. This one could not be much past his majority.
"Naneth." The youth coughed again. Dark red stained his lips and chin. Lids closed over emerald green eyes. "Selena of Greenwood."
"Tell her what, Penneth?" Elrond whispered and at the youth's lack of response added. "You were very brave to fight for freedom."
"I love her." The simple words were the youth's last, and the green eyes, although now open, no longer shown with brilliance of life. A cold hand grabbed his shoulder. Jerking his head, he found himself staring into the dead eyes of another of his former patients.
"You are dust. Nothing fashioned by your hands will remain." The dark voice mocked. "How many did you fail?"
"This is not real." Elrond fought to free himself from the shadowed dreams. He struggled to remember where he had been. He had just treated Rúmil in the palace healing halls. "I have helped as many as I could, although it was not nearly enough."
"Why do you deserve to live?" A familiar voice called. He looked up into Gil-Galad's burning eyes. It was a look that always preceded a roar of temper. In response many councilors would scurry around to do the King's bidding – to right whatever wrong Gil-Galad identified. Such a look of ire had never before been directed at him.
"Elrond! Mellon-nin!" Erestor urgently called, trying to keep his rising panic out of his voice. "Elrond. Come back to the light!" He squeezed the half-elf's shoulders and relief flooded him as he saw the cloudy eyes clear to silver.
"Failed so many." Elrond lamented. Erestor's hands moved to his friend's chilled cheeks, forcing the silver eyes to focus solely on him. "Erestor?"
"You have helped so many my friend. All is well. We are in Annúminas for Valandil's coronation." Erestor pulled him into a tight embrace. "Do you remember?"
"Yes." Elrond nodded, but his voice was strained and thin. Erestor led him out to the balcony and guided him into a settee, which was situated directly in the warm sun. Erestor had observed these symptoms after the war in Thranduil and in his brother Orodiun. He had even experience such symptoms himself. Why should he be so shocked? He vowed to pay closer attention to Elrond.
"Elrond, how often you do you experience flashbacks and hallucinations?" He knelt in front of the peredhel and warming both of the cold hands in his own.
"I am merely tired." Elrond dismissed his concern.
"No!" Erestor was adamant. "I have seen far too many others go through this! How long have you suffered from battle fatigue?"
"On and off since the final year in Mordor." Elrond admitted under Erestor's continued scrutiny. "As frequently as up to several times a month - although it has been declining in the past two years. I have been careful to get proper rest and set aside time for meditation."
"Which has been nearly impossible here." Erestor astutely noted. Elrond's sideways glance was all the confirmation needed.
"This is the first time in six months."
"Have you told Celebrían?"
"How does one broach such a subject?" The peredhel uncharacteristically hid his face in his hands. Unspoken was the unreasonable expectation that elven rulers never succumbed to illness or injury. There was an elven expectation that they were better to get rid of! Thranduil was similarly reluctant to divulge his own internal battles. Few returned from Mordor unscathed. Ironically, over the millenia, Elrond had organized countless group sessions and mediation hours for those that suffered from this affliction.
"And yesterday was your first disagreement with Celebrían." Erestor pulled Elrond's hands into his own and rubbed them vigorously as if he could physically ground the peredhel to the present.
"Yes." Elrond admitted quietly.
"It will happen again. Gwidian and I do not always agree but talking about our differences brings us closer together. But back to this other matter. Many of Greenwood's leaders also wrestled with such battle scars. You are the only healer who also fought! There is no shame in this. These are wounds many of us bear. You placed yourself at greater risk with your dual and conflicting roles as healer and warrior. Wounds to the fëa heal much more slowly." Elrond did not raise his eyes.
"Come I will brew a draught for a dreamless sleep." Erestor ordered. "You need rest and I am honored to watch over you."
"We all hide our hurts - you even more than most. It comes from our longevity, hurts compound over time." Elrond's brow creased with the irony of the situation. Erestor had suffered similar symptoms for many years following the fall of Eregion.
"Ah, but you and I are both looking forward to a period of great joy. Gwidian and I will soon be wed, as will you and Celebrían."
"I suppose that depends on your definition of soon. Galadriel would have us wait a hundred years. Perhaps that is wise for Celebrían needs time to travel and experience the world on her own. Otherwise, I fear she would grow to see Imladris as a cage."