Chapter 18 – Encouragements of an Old Friend

Elrond smoothed his son's hair back from his forehead and planted a small kiss on the warm skin. Elrohir was doing much better after several hours of rest. The stitches that held the cut on his neck closed had done their job, and the wound had finally stopped bleeding and started to heal. The bruises on his chest had already faded, indicating that the internal bleeding had already been under control before the poisonous dagger cut him. The elf lord was relieved that he did not need to worry about that injury. Elrohir’s fever was also diminishing slowly and steadily, and the young elf had woken briefly when Elrond checked on him a few minutes earlier. He was still rather disoriented, but coherent enough to inquire about his brothers and friend. Elrond reassured him that Elladan and Estel were fine and that Legolas was still clinging desperately to life. Elrohir did not press for more information, for he had drifted back into a deep sleep, and his father was thankful that he did not have to go into any details.

Pulling the thin blanket over his son's shoulder, the Lord of Imladris rose from the bed and exited the room. Making his way down the corridor to the adjacent room, Elrond halted as he noted familiar footfalls coming up the stairs. Turning around, he waited as Glorfindel caught up with him in a few quick steps.

“Welcome home, my friend,” Elrond greeted the blond warrior warmly. “It’s good to have you back.” The elf lord was glad that he would have an extra pair of hands to help him take care of the children while he worked to find a cure.

“It’s good to be back. Two weeks in Lorien was getting a little unnerving. I can’t believe I missed your son’s mischief after the first week.” Glorfindel’s smile turned into a frown when Elrond did not seem to share the jest. His friend looked weary and tired. His once proud posture was slumped slightly, as if an invisible weight were weighing him down.

“Is something wrong?” the blond elf laid his hand on Elrond’s shoulder as he searched those deep grey eyes of his friend’s. When Elrond did not answer immediately, Glorfindel felt a pang of fear rise from within him. “Elrond? What’s happened?”

“It’s a long story.” The dark-haired elf motioned for Glorfindel to follow him. “Come. Walk with me.” The elf lord led Glorfindel towards the next room and, the blond elf let out a surprised gasp as he saw the pale figure on the bed buried under layers of blankets.

Legolas’ ashen complexion gave him an almost transparent look. The elf prince’s eyes were closed, and dark circles marred the skin beneath his long lashes.

“What on Middle-earth happened to him?” the warrior exclaimed, shocked.

Elrond did not answer, but approached the bed and lifted the blankets gently. Noting the blood soaked bandages, the elf shook his head and sighed out loud. “Remember Baran and his son Thad?” Elrond asked as he removed the soiled bandages.

Glorfindel nodded numbly, his heart suddenly turning cold at the mention of the names. “Yes, I remember... too clearly.”

“Thad decided to avenge his father’s death.” The words hung thickly in the air, and it took Glorfindel a moment for the news to finally sink in.

“And Estel?”

“He’s fine... at least physically,” Elrond assured his long time friend and began to relate what had happened to him as the two of them worked on cleaning Legolas’ wounds and applying fresh bandages. “I’m more worried about Legolas. He’s already bled through three bandages since his return. I don’t know how much longer he can hold on...” the elf lord trailed off as he pulled the blankets back over the woodland being. “His body temperature is dangerously low, and if we can’t stop the bleeding, he’s going to die.”

The statement was blunt and straightforward; there was no room for maybes.

Glorfindel brushed his fingers over Legolas’ sunken cheek, and his hand rested on the elf’s face momentarily. “He’s so young,” the blond elf lord whispered sadly, “and yet he has taken up such great responsibilities in protecting Estel. The poor child had gone through so much.” After a short pause, he continued, “Thranduil will be devastated if he loses his only child...”

“We will all be...” Elrond choked out, unable to suppress the emotions that rose from within him any longer.

Glorfindel removed his hand from Legolas and in turn rested it on Elrond’s shoulder. “I know you have long treated Legolas as one of your own,” the warrior said sympathetically.

The Lord of Rivendell nodded slightly. “I love him just like any of my other children. It pains me to see him...” The rest of the sentence was lost when a sob robbed him of his voice. Silver tears trailed down his flawless face, and he quickly wiped them off with his sleeve. Taking a shuddering breath, Elrond exhaled slowly and tried to recompose himself.

Leading his distressed friend to a chair, Glorfindel eased him into it gently. “Do not despair, my friend. You said you have sent Estel to search the old house. Maybe he will find something useful.” The blond elf crouched down beside the large chair and tried to encourage his friend.

“I am not sure if there is anything to find. Even if he did, I am not sure if I can develop an antidote in time.” Elrond buried his face in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees and his body bent forward in defeat.

“You need to have faith in yourself, Elrond. If you give up now, Legolas is as good as dead.”

Elrond’s head snapped up abruptly at his friend’s words. “No! I will not let him die while he’s under my charge!” the dark haired elf said determinedly. “I will do everything within my power to save him.”

“Good! That’s the attitude I want to see in you,” Glorfindel said encouragingly and patted him light on the back.

“Thank you,” Elrond replied appreciatively, with a weak smile.

“Anytime, my friend,” came the other's reply.

Rising from the chair, Elrond moved towards the window and looked down at the garden below. Judging by the shadows cast by the sun, it was several hours past noon. The fact that Legolas was still alive gave him hope that the elfling might survive. All that needed to happen now was for Aragorn to return with something useful and for them to find a cure. In the meantime, the other healers and he were working frantically to develop something to counter the poison in the elf prince’s system, just in case Aragorn came back empty-handed.

“I need to get back to work,” Elrond said, while his gaze was still affixed to the fields beyond the gates, hoping to catch a glimpse of Aragorn and Erestor.

“I will send them to you when they return.” Glorfindel approached from behind and pulled him away from the window, directing him towards the exit. “Go. I will look after Legolas.”

Elrond nodded once and glanced back at the unconscious elf one last time, before being shoved out of the room by Glorfindel.

After Elrond’s departure, Glorfindel dragged the empty chair next to the bed and settled down into it with a heavy sigh, If he had not been away in Lorien, he would definitely had gone with the two children to search for Elladan and Elrohir. Then maybe none of this would have happened. But it was too late for regrets now. Taking the smaller hands in his own, the elf lord rubbed them tenderly, trying to work some warmth back into the icy fingers.

“Legolas, I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, I want you to know that we are doing our best to help you. So you have to be strong and hold on.” Not expecting a response from the comatose elf, he was taken aback when he felt a twitch in his hand. But when he examined the prince closer, he was disappointed to see hat there were no signs of him waking, and it made him wonder if he had only imagined it.

A soft knock at the door drew his attention away from Legolas momentarily, and the turned to see Elladan standing by the entrance.

“I thought I heard your voice,” Elladan said with a small smile.

Returning the greeting, Glorfindel motioned for the twin to enter. The younger elf moved towards the blond warrior and sat cross-legged on the floor beside his chair. The elf lord ruffled his hair affectionately, while giving him a quick visual examination. Elladan looked fine, except a little tired. He seemed to have regained his strength and was glad that the poison did not cause any long lasting effects. His shoulder wound had almost healed completely, but Elrond had insisted he wear a sling for a couple of days, so that he wouldn’t over exert himself.

Elladan squirmed uncomfortably under the scrutiny of the older elf. “I’m fine Glorfy, really,” he tried to reassure the elf lord, but Glorfindel was determined to see for himself.

Silencing Elladan with a wave before the dark haired elf could say anything else, the warrior prodded his injured shoulder.

“Hey!” Elladan yelped, “that’s not fair!” Reaching up to rub the sore spot, Elladan glared at Glorfindel with an annoyed pout.

“Yes, you are definitely fine.” Glorfindel grinned and dodged a swat from the younger elf. Both of them shared a brief smile, before turning serious once again. “How’s your brother?” the warrior asked.

“`Ro is getting better. His fever had gone down when I checked on him before I came over.” He paused briefly. “How’s Legolas?” He tilted his head towards the bed.

“Not too good, I’m afraid. Your father and I have just changed his bandages. He is still bleeding.”

“I hope Estel finds something that will be able to help him.” Elladan scooted closer to the bed and took one of the elf prince’s hands, squeezing it tightly. “Hold on, Legolas... for your father… for all of us...”

TBC...