Disclaimer: None of Tolkien's characters nor the world of Middle Earth are mine and I do not aim to make any money from this story. I merely borrow the toys and play in the sandbox.
Rating: PG-13 (T)
A/N:
-o0o-
Gravity
Chapter 7
Far more familiar with the limits of his father's healing powers and the toll it took on its user, than he would have liked to be, Elladan was relieved to notice the steady rise and fall of his father's chest in Legolas' arms. Even more encouraging was the fact that Elrohir had adapted the same steady breathing rhythm. There was no longer any hint of the terrifying wheezing sound that had marked his few words and strangled coughs before.
"How are they?"
The words of Glorfindel drew his attention away from his twin and he looked up at the golden haired warrior. "They will recover!" He answered and could feel the relief flooding his veins when he spoke the words out loud, knowing them to be true. He had gotten too close to losing his brother this day but the knowledge that Elrohir would not leave him, not now, not ever, gave him new strength that washed the weariness of the day's events away like a ray of light that chases bad memories.
"They will need stretchers." He added, as the thought of their return to Rivendell occurred to him. His father and brother might be out of immediate danger, but a speedy return to the Last Homely House would still be necessary.
Glorfindel nodded. "I will ask Amrothion and Baranir to assemble them." He looked at Legolas then and held his gaze for a long moment, until the younger elf practically withered under the scrutiny. In the end, however, Glorfindel seemed to decide that what he had to say to the prince of Greenwood could wait. He turned around to return to his men.
It did not take the warriors long to build the stretchers that would facilitate his brother's and father's return to Rivendell and Elladan himself lifted his twin onto the wooden scaffolding that would carry him home.
Through all this, Elrohir remained unconscious, deep within a healing sleep that their father had, doubtlessly, placed him in. But it mattered little to Elladan, deep within the reaches of his heart Elladan could feel the presence of his twin's feä, steady, constant and reassuring, as it had been since the day they were born.
He let go of Elrohir's hand and handed him over to Amrothion and Baranir, who were preparing for the difficult task of getting the stretchers over the land slide in front of them, sending a new prayer of thanks to the Valar. Only by their grace had his brother and all of them been spared today.
-o0o-
Sunlight flitted over his closed eyelids, gently coaxing him to return to the light and to awareness.
His brother, though, was not quite as subtle.
"Open your eyes, Elrohir. We know that you are awake."
There was an unmistakable hint of a smile but also of relief in Elladan's voice and Elrohir renewed his efforts to open his eyes.
He was in the Healing Halls, much as he had expected from his brother's words and his own closed eyelids. Yet how had he ended up here? The last thing he remembered had been … He closed his eyes again, trying to collect his haphazard memories. He remembered leaving the house with Legolas to inspect the river path …
A wave of vertigo seemed to wash over him as he remembered the moment when the ground had given way beneath him and he had dropped into the dark below. He could almost feel the sinking feeling in his stomach anew, hear the deafening noise and realize the terrifying, certain fact of what was about to happen.
A steadying pressure on his shoulder interrupted the stream of unwelcome memories and he looked up to find Elladan had rested his hand on his upper arm, calmly lending support. Gratitude washed over him for the reassuring presence of his twin and he gave Elladan a reassuring nod to let him know he was alright.
And he found he was.
He was safe. He was home.
In the next minute, however, his smile froze, as a memory that had been at the back of his mind suddenly made itself known. His father! Elrond had been there. Elrohir remembered the warm embrace, the feeling of security that only his Adar could provide.
And he also remembered the soft tingle brought by the rush of his father's healing energy in his veins.
"Ada?" he asked, desperation sneaking into his tone as he looked at his twin, needing to know, needing to hear confirmation that their father was alright as well.
"I am right here, Elrohir", his father answered, just before stepping into the younger twin's line of vision. Elrohir released the breath he had unconsciously been holding, wincing at the sharp pain that accompanied the simple action.
"Here, drink this." His father held out a steaming cup and motioned for Elladan to help his brother into a sitting position.
"What about Legolas?" Elrohir asked between sips, barely suppressing a cough that send a sharp pain through his ribcage. It would still be a few days before the last reminders of his fall would fade, but already the tea his father had prepared took effect, dimming the pain and spreading a feeling of warmth throughout his body.
He fought the fatigue that always accompanied the healing herbs' pain numbing effects just long enough to get the answer he had hoped for.
"Legolas is alright."
-o0o-
After Elrohir had succumbed to the sleep-inducing effects of his tea, Elrond turned to his older son. "Shall we see how the young prince is faring?"
Elladan inclined his head in simple acquiescence and with a last look at his sleeping twin followed his father from the room.
It was not a long walk to the inner council chamber where Glorfindel had been planning to talk to Legolas. When they approached the arching doorway Elrond was surprised at the silence within. A few steps further he found Glorfindel looking intently at Legolas, who seemed to be profoundly uncomfortable in his seat. Was it merely the waiting for what he knew was to come that made the young Thranduilion so unhappy or had Glorfindel's words truly been that harsh?
At the sounds of their entry, Glorfindel turned around. "Hir nin", he started, surprising Elrond with the formality despite the familiar setting. "We have been waiting for you. I have already discussed his commendable quick thinking and utter failure to account for potential risks with the prince, but I thought it best for you to decide on any … consequences."
Elrond understood Glorfindel's predicament instantly.
From what Elladan had told him, Legolas' actions had saved them all. And yet, at the same time, the risky manoeuvre could just as easily have killed Glorfindel and his elves.
It was a risk that should not have been taken.
It was the only reason they were alive.
Elrond inclined his head in a nod, accepting the charge - accepting the duty of deciding whether Legolas should be punished or not. The young elf was clearly expecting it, if his desolate posture was any indication. Yet, Glorfindel, who never shied away from rebuking recruits that acted foolishly, did clearly not wish to do so. Without a doubt, he would have evaluated the situation differently if their fight against the orcs had not been so desperate. Outnumbered ten to one, their chances had never been good and it was only thanks to Legolas that all his warriors returned home to Rivendell this day.
Of course there was another thing to consider - the young elf was the prince of Greenwood, and Elrond knew that even his valiant seneschal did not relish the thought of angering king Thranduil.
It was a difficult situation, certainly.
Suppressing a sigh Elrond took a seat at the large table in the centre of the room.
"Legolas", he began, "thank you, for saving my son's life."
Legolas looked up at this, clearly caught off guard. "My lord, I did not –"
"You have done more than you know, Legolas." Elrond interrupted him and waved off the prince's protests.
After a short moment, he continued: "Now, Elladan has told me off what happened at the Bruinen. According to his words, your actions saved our lives, and for that, too, you have my thanks."
Legolas released the breath he had been holding in anxious anticipation. He had clearly feared stronger words. Elrond's next words, however, made him freeze.
"However, your actions also almost killed our defenders. They were reckless and ill-conceived – the actions of an elfling not prepared for the reality of fighting."
Legolas shrank back as if struck.
Doubtlessly, being considered unfit for real battle was a fear that the prince kept well hidden, but that ruled him none-the-less. His home was besieged by dark forces and he dreamt of fighting alongside his warriors at the front lines, of keeping the evil at bay.
All the more reason for Elrond to make sure he would not try something as reckless under less dire circumstances.
"It seems to me now"; Elrond continued, in a more kindly tone, "that your father's intentions to send you here to learn the basics of healing was a bit short-sighted." If possible it seemed that Legolas was still getting paler, the mere idea of his father learning what had happened in Rivendell a worse fear than even facing Glorfindel's scorn.
Elrond hurried to alleviate the young elf's fears.
"I suggest that you take additional lessons in strategy, beside your duties as a healer's apprentice." The prince's head whipped up at these words, clearly that was not what he had expected.
"I am certain", Elrond continued, "that Glorfindel would be delighted to instruct you and guide your undeniable talent."
Legolas remained silent, speechless, but Glorfindel gave Elrond a reassuring nod, indicating at the same time that he approved of Elrond's decision in this matter.
As the silence from Legolas continued, Glorfindel decided to add some more reassurance. "I am sure that you will make a great leader in the field one day, young Thranduilion."
Legolas' thoughts, however, seemed to still be straying in a different direction. "But", he ventured, silently, "my father …"
Thranduil had indeed forbidden his son training in the art of war before he completed his healer's training and Elrond understood the prince's dilemma. Legolas was not one to lightly disregard the orders of his father and king.
"Your father will have to be informed of what has happened of course." Legolas blanched, but Elrond continued, "however, I am certain he will agree with my assessment once I tell him that your quick thinking, from behind the front lines," he added additional emphasis to those words, "saved the life of the famous Balrog slayer of Rivendell."
Elrond managed to suppress the smile that teased at his lips, but he was sure that Glorfindel noticed his mirth and would demand retribution later.
Legolas, however, seemed truly relieved and, what was more, eager for the promised lessons in strategy. With a noticeable spring in his steps, the prince left the room, as soon as Elornd dismissed him, Elladan following not far behind.
And as their steps faded in the hallway, Elrond finally allowed himself to let his weariness take hold. Slumping slightly in the chair he sighed deeply. The day's activities had taken their toll, yet his sons and his young charge were save now. He could finally try to find some rest.
Glorfindel seemed to read his thoughts. "Wine?"
"Yes."
- The End -
