"You should collect your charge." Gildor pointed back to where Elrond had halted. Braigsûl pawed disconcertedly. The horse was straining to go forward, but Elrond had reined him to a halt, seemingly mesmerized by something in the distance. Glorfindel shifted between gazing back at the distant half-elf to the Noldo beside him. There was some emotion that Glorfindel could not discern or perhaps it was merely puzzlement in the Noldo's eyes. The wandering Noldor had succeeded in cajoling Elrond to sing for them last night; however, the effect was not what Glorfindel had anticipated. Instead of accepting Elrond as one of them, Gildor's contingent seemed to have silently labeled the peredhel as odd and 'foreign'. There seemed to be a nearly tangible change in their escorts' response to the young elf. Gildor and his band were skilled at shielding their thoughts. Fortunately, Elrond had been too distracted this morning to sense the change.
"I will retrieve him." Glorfindel turned his white steed around and parted with the rest of the company. It was dusk settled as they continued their search for a suitable campsite.
"Elrond," Glorfindel called as he approached the Peredhel. The youth appeared totally enthralled by something and visibly startled at Glorfindel's approach. Awe-filled silver eyes turned toward him in surprise.
"Glorfindel?" The Vanya smiled warmly even as he made a mental note to place extra guard on the distracted peredhel.
"You are falling behind. It is safer to keep up." Glorfindel meant to chastise him but fell silent when the young elf turned back to study the woods. "What is so enthralling?"
"Can you hear it?" Genuine amazement rang in the young voice.
"Hear what?"
"The whispers of the downy flakes." Glorfindel took note of the admiration and surprise in Elrond's voice. He sounded like a young adolescent just taking note of something they had never before appreciated. He recalled how awed Elrond had been after his audience with the Valar and announcement of his choice to be counted among the elves. Perhaps these changes were still ongoing.
"Had you not noticed it before? Is it an effect of the changes you have experienced since your choice?"
"I know not. I can not recall having the luxury of time to enjoy the snow." Elrond admitted.
"In the future, you should seek to change that. There is much to be said for having the time to reflect and take pleasure in the wondrous world that surrounds us." Glorfindel felt his heart surge at the tentative but genuine smile that curved across his friend's face. He had long vowed to try to elicit such reactions from this far to somber youth.
"Yes," Elrond agreed, his spirit buoyed by the simple fact that someone understood.
"But come, let us wait for the safety of Mithlond to indulge further in reflection. Our escort and that strict Teler would certainly be much chagrinned if we chose to forgo their company." Glorfindel smiled at Elrond's small laugh.
"Yes, as far as Cirulian is concerned, some black cloud of danger forever follows me around."
"Yes, and I have it on good authority that he is preparing you a space at the center of camp." Glorfindel laughed and coaxed Elrond forward on Braigsûl. "But come, let us get settled. There is food for both elf and horse." Braigsûl whinnied in agreement as they set out together. Nearly a mile later, they came upon the campsite. Horses were being brushed down and fed, while cooks toiled around a roaring fire in the center. Cirulian greeted them and directed Elrond to one of the tents that had already been constructed. The exhausted peredhel was too tired to protest the special treatment and gratefully disappeared inside. In a glance, the Cirulian conveyed to Glorfindel his intention to guard Elrond.
"That is agreeable. I will procure some dinner." Glorfindel smiled genuinely, though he was still perplexed by his earlier observations. Gildor's elves were busy ordering the camp and setting the watch. A thin stew was being prepared, but most of the nutrients were supplied by lembas. Once in a while, Glorfindel recognized curious glances towards Elrond's tent, and he silently thanked Cirulian for standing guard beside it. The wind changed abruptly, and Glorfindel reached out with his senses to detect what was amiss. Malevolence – foul wickedness approached and shrieked in dread. Familiar sing-song bird calls framed the distant clamor of hooves.
"To arms!" Glorfindel called out moving quickly to secure his bow and check his armor. "Vanyar drive enemy in this direction! Too arms!" The fire was immediately doused as Gildor and Ivorchith responded.
"Which direction? How far?" Gildor barked out instructions as elves quickly prepared.
"Due east. They approach quickly. We have maybe ten minutes or less." Glorfindel helped push the scattered rocks into a makeshift wall.
"There are no trees here for protection!" Ivorchith yelled as they stocked the tents and supplies behind the barricade. Gildor's trained patrol jumped into a well-tuned routine. Archers readied their arrows and drew their bows. Glorfindel knew that Cirulian and Elrond were situated among the archers, but he could not see them in the darkness. The Noldor clearly too command from Lord Gildor, tensely awaiting his signal. They could now hear the approaching force. It would be moments before they would rise over the horizon.
"Wait for my command," Gildor called for their guests' benefit. All stood motionless with weapons at ready. Not a sound was uttered as the orcs burst into their field of vision, but still they were frozen, waiting until the mass of orcs was in range for the elves arrows to be most effective. A short whistle sounded, initiating a wave of arrows. Wave after wave continued until the orcs broke over the barrier, and nearly half of the elven warriors accosted them with swords. Glorfindel heard grunts of pain amidst Gildor's shouts to shore up the line. Even as the Golden warrior was focused on dispatching the orcs in front of him, he made careful calls to notify the closing Vanyar force of their position. The golden Vanyar swept in behind the orcs. Their combined forces quickly quashed the enemies between them.
"'Findel!"
"Orondo on your right!" Glorfindel spun and caught the orc in the side. A deft stroke slit the beast's side as the tall Vanya nearly ran into his friend. Both spun and stood back to back as they assessed the situation. Orondo's signals turned from attack orders to searching for wounded. Gildor's voice carried similar messages to search for fallen elves even as the call went out to secure the perimeter.
"We did not realize your group would be in the area. Word came from Eonwe that a group of the enemy had eluded their net. They have been flushing out remnants of the enemy forces from underground. Prince Ingwion sent us as one of two patrols to secure this area."
"We should see what aid we can provide for the wounded." Glorfindel turned towards the ashen remains of the fire, where a small triage center was being assembled. But it was not Gildor's voice that shouted commands, and tension was evident in the Noldor's stances though they hurried to comply. It took him a few minutes to place the young figure motioning for others to secure hot water and bandages as the elf verbally ranked the seriousness of the wounded. The words were clipped and precise, the confident voice of a Master Healer used to being in charge.
"Cirulian, this will need stitches. Control the bleeding with pressure and bandages until I return." Elrond signaled for the nearest Vanya to settle his friend down in their triage station, oblivious to the shocked looks of the Vanyar and Noldor. The dark-haired elf bent to assess his next patient.
"Are there healers among your group?" Glorfindel turned to Orondo. The question brought Orondo out of his surprised stupor. The shocked Vanya had also recognized the healer.
"Not a Master healer, but many of us have training in the healing arts. I had not realized that your young charge had studied the healing arts."
"He was the head healer directing the Edain healing tents."
"Edain?" Confusion mixed with horror in Orondo's voice.
"Edain and elves are not so different. I am sure he can figure out how to treat elves." Glorfindel's eyes sparkled with mischief. "But I jest. Elrond trained under Master Noenri, Gil-Galad's chief healer. Come let us see what aid we can offer." But Orondo, who had some training in the healing arts, pointed to several of his passing warriors.
"Aid Lord Elrond! He is the most capable healer among us. Ulcále guard the peredhel with your life." The tall Vanya crossed his hand over his heart and bowed slightly to acknowledge the order. Glorfindel moved across the way to assist Gildor, for the Noldor appeared ill at ease and stood uncharacteristically alone.
"Has the perimeter been secured?" Glorfindel asked.
"Yes, and extra watch assigned." Gildor startled slightly.
"We must hunt for the injured."
"Ivorchith yet lives but sustained an arrow wound." Gildor shuddered. It must have been gruesome.
"Let the healers do their job. We can only do ours." Glorfindel grasped him on the shoulder. "Come let us get rid of these foul remains." The clipped tones of command were a lifeline helping Gildor to regain his composure.
"We dare not raise a pyre. It would attract more enemies."
"Not now, but surely come morning. Lord Orondo was charged to flush out these stray orcs." Gildor nodded, suddenly recognizing the golden warriors who were already diligently working. A group was cleaning off swords and recycling arrows.
"Nice blade! Look at this workmanship." One of the Noldo lifted the now clean, familiar blade. Its surface glinted in the firelight.
"Must belong to one of the wounded." Another commented.
"To one of the healers, actually." Glorfindel enlightened them as he stepped over to take possession of the precious blade. "It was forged in Gondolin for Earendil's Mother." The other whistled in appreciation as Glorfindel inspected the sword. The well-worn sheath was probably still tied about its owner's waist; however, the owner concentrated on matters of life and death.
Elves toiled deep into the night, scouring the area for survivors and piling enemy remains. Most finally settled down for sleep a few hours before dawn. Glorfindel settled once he was sure that both Cirulian and Ulcále guarded Elrond, who was oblivious to anything but his patients' well-being. Too soon, he woke to the sounds of preparation for the breaking of the fast. He changed into a less rumpled tunic, pulled back on his warm cloak, and stowed the rest of his gear. Gildor stood by the fire sipping tea and stared at the dark figure, who moved among the wounded.
"Just a few days ago, you consoled him and gave him advice. What makes you now uncomfortable?" The golden elf could read a begrudging like warring with revulsion in Gildor's eyes.
"Yesterday, he seemed an elf. But now, it is not that cold, yet he shivers as one of the Edain. He stares off at the snow as if he has never heard its quiet whispered descent. He looks like an elf, yet few elves born in this land have such mental gifts. I witnessed his hand glow with light as he treated Ivorchith. My gwador (sword brother) would not have survived without the young one's surgical skill." Gildor divulged quietly. "How do you, with your stature and knowledge, reconcile this? He is an enigma."
"His heart is pure. I am honored to be his friend."
"It is unnatural to mix the kindreds."
"I do not question the will of the One. Only several times have the kindreds mixed and produced offspring. Surely, it is the will of the One."
Xxxxxxxxxx
Cirulian watched in amusement as the dark-haired elf put a saddle over his uncooperative steed. The horse snorted in disgust. Normally, elves did not use saddles; however, this one had been specially designed to hold a pack, which the elf was now trying to fasten on. Cirulian could hardly hold in a snort of laughter at the exasperated elf's struggles with the willful horse. Once the task was finally accomplished, the elf pleaded with the steed to let him mount, but Braigsûl snorted and blew at the elf's hair.
"You could help the poor elf!" Glorfindel slapped the back of Cirulian's head as he maneuvered his horse around Cirulian's.
"Elrond, did you get any sleep last night? When I turned in, you were busy suturing Ivorchith's wound."
"Not really." Elrond' sighed in frustration and turned away from Braigsûl. The horse responded by nipping at the elf's long hair and pulling it affectionately. Glorfindel bent and spoke gently to the black stallion.
"I think wise Braigsûl has your best interest at heart. He worries you will doze off and fall from the saddle." Glorfindel turned a concerned gaze at the peredhel. "Those dark circles under your eyes indicate he is correct. Come ride with me for a while so you can rest."
"Glorfindel, I am dirty and ripe from not having bathed. It has been far too cold for such luxuries." Elrond's face colored in embarrassment. While unspoken, his next thought was easily heard. "I do not want to repulse you." Glorfindel had not imagined him to be so self-conscious of his status. Perhaps this new ability to perceive the thoughts of others contributed to this insecurity. In any case, Glorfindel dismissed his awkward mumbles with a wave and extended his hand to help Elrond mount.
"Put your worries aside and rest. You helped many and will soon enjoy a hot soak in Lindon." He pulled Elrond back to lean against his chest and wrapped his cloak around them. "Sleep without fear. I am guarding you."
"I know. Thank you." Elrond sighed and relaxed in his friend's arms. Cirulian and Ulcále pulled closer to flank him on either side as the Vanyar gathered around them. The Vanyar elves, most closely associated with the Valar and Maiar as their King Ingwë Ingweron, resided on the slopes of Taniqueti. Perhaps this association allowed them to appreciate the diffuse light of the Maia that emanated from the peredhel, for they had readily accepted his mixed heritage as a blessing of the One. Elrond fell into a deep and refreshing sleep in this supportive, accepting atmosphere.
"We will press hard today to try to reach the outpost. From there, it is but a one-day ride to Lindon." Orondo drew up next to Ulcále.
"Thank you for your aid in guarding Elrond. He will be safe in Lindon."
"You must still be vigilant, for his heritage sets him apart." Orondo turned, cranking his neck to assess the reborn warrior. "At least his coloring favors the Noldor with whom he will reside, but you will forever stand out among them. Yet I hear rumor that you will not return with us to Valinor."
"No, my song is needed here."
"Surely you have gone above and beyond your duty. You have already given one life to this cause. I would see you happy."
"I will be happy." Glorfindel shifted the sleeping figure in his arms slightly. Elrond smelled less than most men and no worse than the horses. He smiled, happy that the touchy peredhel slept peacefully. Soon, he vowed to gently probe Elrond's feelings about his choice and its consequences.