Healing Hope

Chapter Nine

The Sons of Elrond

It needs courage to let our children go, but we are trustees and stewards and have to hand them back to life—to God.  As the old saying puts it; “What I gave I have.” We have to love them and lose them.”
Alfred Torrie

As he gracefully descended the stairs, Thranduil’s eyebrows rose as he took in the level of controlled chaos that seemed to be running rampant throughout the house.  Servants were scurrying around talking in hushed whispers as doors slammed, and there seemed to be an unending clatter of pots in the kitchens. Never would he have believed it possible to see such helter skelter activity in a household belonging to Elrond.

The fair being snorted softly to himself, for kings never lowered themselves to actually do something so base as snorting.  Could this possibly be the household of the same Elrond who stood perfectly still and ramrod straight – with nary a hair out of place - by Gil-galad’s side for hours and kept the High King’s palace as organized and well running as though the Valar themselves had ordered it?

The king had just reached the bottom steps when Elrond and El…well, one of the twins, he was not sure which, came walking quickly through the doors.  Both were a sight, and were he not a regent and well trained in etiquette and protocol, his mouth might possibly have dropped open in amazement. 

Elrond had bits of straw sticking to his robes and there appeared to be dried blood on his robes and lower arms, though it was apparent he had at least attempted to wash it off.  His braids were askew, and there were smudges and even a small tear on his robes as though he had been on the ground on his knees.  Impossible!

The twin had been dripping wet and muddy when he first came before the king. Now that mud had dried and he was just a mess, though he too had washed from the elbows down and now there was blood apparent.  Obviously it was not his blood.

I am dreaming, thought Thranduil.  That must be the answer.  I am asleep and will soon wake up again.

Deep in conversation, neither elf gave the king more than a perfunctory nod as they hurried past him and started up the stairs. Curious, thought Thranduil, very curious. 

No, amended the King of Mirkwood, it was downright astounding!  Could this possibly be the same Elrond, who could trace his ancestry to the High Houses of the Noldor, Sindar, Vanyar, Edain – well there has to be some tainted blood in the line – and even that of the Maiar, who served as the Herald of the High King Gil-galad in Lindon and on the battlefield, who was such a warrior that he carried not a shield or wore a head dress nor, it always seemed to Thranduil, ever seemed to look messy even after battle, who Thranduil had known for three ages and had never seen lose his composure, his dignity, nor his bearing…could this possibly be the same elf?

About the time that Thranduil of Mirkwood was beginning to believe he had somehow been thrown into some dungeon of disbelief and unreality, Glorfindel, the golden warrior of the House of the Golden Flower, the hero of Gondolin, the famed Balrog slayer, and the savior of Thranduil’s sanity, walked into the house.

“Praise the Valar,” shouted the King.  “Glorfindel, please tell me.  Is this real?  Am I dreaming?”

Glorfindel who was rather taken back by Thranduil’s outburst looked at him as though he had suddenly grown two heads.  “Are you feeling well, Thranduil?”

“Am I…” stammered the king.  No, not stammered, for kings never stammer, thought Thranduil, who pulled himself up to his full height and regal bearing restored, calmly looked at Glorfindel and restated the question. 

“Tell me, dear Glorfindel, what can possibly have happened to the Elrond that I have known for three ages to so change him from the stiffest elf I ever knew to the one who just walked past me a dirty mess?”

“Oh!” smiled Glorfindel.  “I believe I know understand your question now.  The answer is quite simple.  It is not what but who.”

“Who?”

“Yes, who,” repeated Glorfindel.  “Estel, the answer to all your questions is Estel, for since he entered this household it has been one unending stream of chaos, laughter, joy and yes, even untidiness.”

“I see,” murmured Thranduil, though truthfully he did not.  “Then I am most anxious to make the acquaintance of this Estel.  Shall he be at the banquet tonight?”

“No, I think not,” replied Glorfindel.   “You see all the activity has been because Estel was missing.  He has been found safely, but injured.  Elladan and your son are brining him back now.”

“Injured,” said Thranduil. “I am most distressed to hear that news.  Please give my condolences to Lord Elrond and convey that we should postpone the banquet until a more opportune time when I might have the pleasure of meeting all of the sons of Elrond together.”

“I shall,” nodded Glorfindel.  “There will still be a meal served in the hall of fire this evening.  You and your warriors are most welcome to dine there and share an evening of story telling and music with the elves of Imladris.  I shall be attending Lord Elrond and his son.  However, I know just the one to serve as hostess for the evening in our absence.”

“That will not be necessary,” replied the king graciously.  “My warriors and I will be most at home in your hall of fire.  I would not want to cause any more disruption to this household than I have already witnessed.”

“Oh,” smiled Glorfindel, his merry eyes twinkling with mirth, “It shall be no trouble at all.  Sariboril will be more than happy to act as hostess for the evening.”

O-o-O-o-O

Elrond finished his bathing and walked into his bedroom. The ever efficient Erestor had laid out his lord’s clothes, so he was dressed before Elrohir, for it took too baths to clean all the dried mud from Elrohir.

Elrond walked to the family surgery just down the hall way.  Sariboril was waiting for him there with Erestor. 

“Erestor, I believe we will need at least three large tubs of warm water up here to bathe Estel. From what Glorfindel says of his injury and his state we will need to thoroughly wash him before we can begin to work.  Once he is clean we can more methodically clean the injury site. 

“Sariboril, the break has torn through the skin of his arm.  I would like for you to assist me with the setting of the bone.  Elrohir will mix the elixirs that we will need.  Erestor, you and Glorfindel will need to do the bathing so that Elrohir, Sariboril and I do not become contaminated by the dirt on him.”

Erestor nodded his readiness.  “I will find Glorfindel.  I have a feeling that he is lurking somewhere near here.”

“I do not lurk,” came the reply from the doorway. 

O-o-O-o-O

“Elladan, we are there,” said Legolas as he broke through the last few trees onto the manicured lawn of Imladris.  He quickly reached up to hold back a limb of the last tree so that it would not hit the twin in the face.

Elladan had been riding almost by feel, so intent was he to keep Estel from being jostled too much.  The child had not regained consciousness in the few minutes that it had taken to reach clearing.  He breathed a sigh of relief when he looked up to see the Last Homely House in front of him, and nudged Celon to go faster now that they were clear of the trees.

“We’re home, Estel, home.  Ada will take care of you now.”

“Look,” smiled Legolas, pointed towards the stables.  Celos stood in the doorway looking out.  The heroic horse began walking painfully towards them with a worried Aradol trailing along trying to dissuade him.

“My brave Celos!” Elladan called, his heart leaping with joy to see that his beauty lived.

Elladan and Legolas reached the front of the house at the same time Celos did.  Celon whinnied and rubbed his nose protectively against his brother’s. 

“Here,” said Legolas, holding out his arms for Elladan to hand him Estel so that the child would not be overly moved by the dismount.

Elladan gingerly handed Estel down to Legolas, who took the opportunity to do just a bit of snuggling himself.   “Welcome home, mellon nín,” crooned the prince, gifting the child with a kiss to the forehead before handing him back to his brother.

Elladan took a moment to let Celos smell of the boy, smiling as the soft breath of the horse fell onto the child’s hair. The twin kept his tunic carefully covering the arm to protect it from any contamination from the horse, but he had to let Celos see that his sacrifice had not been in vain.  “You did it, boy,” praised Elladan.  “You kept the boar from killing Estel, and Celon took us to find Estel. Now I must take him to Ada, and you must go back and rest.  Go, go with Aradol, both of you!”

“Yes,” scolded Aradol, “you must rest, Celos.  Lord Elrond will put me to washing pots and pans if he sees you are up and about,” teased the stable master.  “Come with me, come…Celon will come too,” he coaxed the great stallion.  Both horses dutifully followed Aradol.

Elladan carried Estel up the steps following Legolas, who opened the large front door for him. 

“Legolas!”  Thranduil’s eyes went wide at the sight of his son…his formal tunic was missing and the inner one was now covered in mud and indeed, there was even a smudge on the prince’s chin.

Legolas turned to see his Adar walking down the hall from the Library.  “Adar, we have found Estel!” he called joyfully as he trailed after Elladan.

Elladan barely looked, so intent was he on getting Estel upstairs to their Ada.

As he ascended the stairs he could hear Thranduil saying something about mud and all the son’s of Elrond.

O-o-O-o-O

Glorfindel and Erestor met Elladan and Estel at the door of the surgery. 

“No, Elladan, give him to me,” said Erestor.  “Glorfindel and I will cleanse him.”

Elladan was opening his mouth to argue when Legolas put his hand on the twin’s shoulder.  “Look at yourself, mellon nín; you are covered in mud.  Come with me.  Wash and change into clean clothes and we will come back to check on Estel.”

With a last wistful look at his baby brother, Elladan handed the precious bundle over to Erestor and Glorfindel.  “Wait,” he said, reaching out to soothe back the hair and bestow a quick kiss to the top of his head.  “Take care of him.”

“We will care for him until you can return, fear not,” said Glorfindel.  “And Elladan…well done.”  He turned back into the room as Elladan and Legolas went down the hall to the Elladan’s room.

Glorfindel held Estel out from him slightly so that Erestor could carefully remove first Legolas’ tunic and then Elladan’s before slicing through the makeshift sling that the twin had used to secure Estel’s arm to his chest.

Elrond could not resist peeking around them to see for himself how badly the arm was broken.  As he had been told, the bone had punctured the skin and there was quite a bit of swelling around the site from what he could tell.

“Stand back, my lord,” said Erestor.  “It wouldn’t do to get any of this mud on you before you have to work on the boy.”

Duly chastised, Elrond stood back a bit but still kept close watch on his son.

Erestor slipped his arms under Estel’s head and feet and, with the tub between them, the two elves slowly lowered Estel into warmed water.  The loose bits of dried mud and bits of grass began to float to the surface.  Glrofindel took his knife and began to gently cut the tunic away from the boy, clearing it first from the arm before quickly moving to the rest of his body.

When he was finished, he cupped his hand to pour water over Estel’s hair and used his hand and a soft cloth to clean the boy’s face, taking extra care as cuts and scrapes were revealed.  Once that was complete, he slid his arms back under Estel and the pair lifted him out of the now filthy tub.

They maneuvered to the next tub and repeated the process of washing.  Now that more of the mud was gone they were able to continue faster.  As he washed, Glorfindel quickly and expertly felt for any more broken bones.  He found what he thought might be a couple of cracked ribs, but no more broken bones.  Elrond tucked that information away to contend with once they had set his arm.

By the time they had finished with the third tub, Estel was clean and wrapped in a soft white robe.  His injured arm lay exposed on top of the soft material. 

Their job complete Glorfindel and Erestor stepped back to allow Elrond and Sariboril to go to work.  Elrohir had the potions and elixirs all prepared and ready as the two healers began the tedious and intricate job of repairing the damaged limb. 

As night fall descended upon the valley, the elves of Imladris once again settled down to await word of the young son of Elrond. Many of the sons of the line of Elendil had dwelt within this valley, hidden and protected, many had they watched grow and learn at the knee of Elrond, but none before had been claimed as a son of Elrond. None other had so claimed the hearts of them all as this one little silver eyed child whose laughter had returned joy to the halls of the Last Homely House and whose innocence and tender heart had brought healing to the hearts of so many others.

Yes, they would settle down and wait, for this one was well worth the effort, and the first born of Imladris treasured every moment they had with their little Estel, the hope of so many.

TBC