Healing Hope

Chapter Twenty

The Needs of the Many

“You sleep safe in your beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would do you harm.” George Orwell

A chastened Falathar quietly opened the door to Estel’s room.  The Mirkwood chief of guards was dismayed to see King Thranduil and the Prince sitting on the bed talking with Lord Elrond.  He had rather hoped to be able to make his apology to the Elf Lord privately and then to seek his king’s pardon, but such was not to be. 

With a resigned sigh, Falathar walked over to stand between where Thranduil and Elrond were seated on the bed.  Gracefully he took a knee, his head bowed. 

“My liege, my Lord,” he address the pair.  “I have grievously offended this house and brought dishonor to my people, and for that I do humbly beg your pardon.”

Both Elrond and Thranduil were fighting hard to keep the twinkle from their eyes, for both had been warriors for many centuries and the young one before them was just so earnest in his abject misery that they could not help but take pity on him.

Thranduil cleared his throat softly.  “Falathar, as my Chief of Guards, your every action reflects on me.”

“Yes, my liege.”  If anything the young guard’s shoulders slumped even further, causing Thranduil to quickly turn his head to hide the twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Elrond caught the motion and smoothly picked up the conversation.  “Imladris is a place of peace and refuge. I do not normally allow the wearing of weapons inside my home, young one.  However, given the circumstances of your last visit,” he paused to glance down at Estel and give a reassuring pat to his son’s chest – as much for himself as for Estel, “I have not asked for your weapons to be left outside.”

Thranduil leaned forward to place a hand on Falathar’s shoulder, causing the young guard to look up at him.  “An elf has been brutally slain this night, Falathar.  Orcs appear to be penetrating the outer defenses of the valley.  I have offered Lord Elrond the services of our warriors until this situation is resolved.”

“We shall be proud to serve along side our Noldor brothers,” Falathar responded immediately, his shoulders squared.

“I have agreed to transfer all authority to Glorfindel.  You and your guards will serve at his discretion,” stated the king.

Falathar frowned thinking through the order.  He did not like the idea of his king’s guard being under another’s command.

“There is nothing to think over, Falathar,” commanded Thranduil, when the guard hesitated.

“Of course, my liege,” responded Falathar bowing his head again.  “I shall report to Lord Glorfindel immediately.”

“Your king will be safe in my home,” consoled Elrond.  “You have my word on that.”

Legolas, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, came to his feet.  “Come on, Falathar, let’s go find Lord Glorfindel and get to work.  We have some orcs to hunt!”

“By you leave, my lords?” asked Falathar.

“Leave is granted,” said Thranduil.

As the two young elves left the room, Estel stirred from his sleep.

“Ada?”

“I am here, Estel,” replied Elrond, pulling the boy back onto his lap and smoothing the hair back from his forehead to bestow a kiss.  Satisfied that Estel did not feel feverish, he next carefully felt down the length of cast on the child’s arm.  It was there that he encountered the problem.

“Is your arm painful, Estel?”

“Yes, Ada,” the boy replied.  “But not bad enough for me to need your tea,” he quickly added.

Elrond smiled even as he arched an eyebrow.  “There is some mild swelling in your fingers.  It will require that you keep your arm elevated until the swelling recedes.”

Estel cocked his head to one side as he thought about his Ada’s words.  “Does that mean I have to stay in bed?”

“I’m afraid it does.  You may stay here or in the healing wing.”

“Here!” Estel responded immediately.  “Sariboril is nice, but she always kisses on me and treats me like a baby.”

“Then here it is,” smiled Elrond.  He stood up and laid Estel back on the bed, propping a couple of pillows underneath the cast, so that it was elevated at just the right angle.  Next he wrapped the sunshine blankey snugly around the boy and made sure that fluffy was within reach.

“Will Dan and Ro stay with me?” asked Estel hopefully.

“The twins are on patrol,” answered Elrond, “but Erestor and I will take turns staying with you. Would you like that?”

Estel nodded his head, relieved that he would not be alone and that he was not required to admit that fear in front of King Thranduil.

“I still have several stories of when Legolas was an elfling as well,” volunteered the king.

“You do?” asked Estel brightening at the thought.  “Will you tell me?”

“I will, if your Adar does not object to my staying with you.”

Elrond dipped his head gracefully.  “Thank you.  It sounds as though Estel will have no shortage of company, which is good, for there is nothing quite so energetic as a four year old who is confined to his bed!.”

Thranduil watched as Elrond suddenly slumped. “What is it? Elrond?”

The Elf Lord raised tortured eyes to the king. “My sons…”

O-o-O-o-O

Glorfindel was in Elrond’s study pouring over a map of the valley with Helcar and Curúfin.  The location of all current scouts was marked and grids were being developed to aid in the deployment of more warriors.  The golden one had just come from alerting Sariboril to the possibility of injured warriors and was content that the healer would have the healing wing prepared for any contingency.

He had also met with each of his commanders and restructured all assignments to better cover the outer defenses.  Aradol assured him that the stable masters were on alert and that the availability of fresh mounts would be their top priority.  The armorer had also reported that the armory was well stocked with weapons and arrows.  Erestor had seen to it that hot soup and fresh bread would be available at all hours in the hall of fire to accommodate the hectic new schedules.

With a myriad of details running through his mind, Glorfindel had returned to the library to once again study the map, willing it to reveal to him what he was missing.  The comment Elrond had made about them not being able to see the orcs niggled at the back of Glorfindel’s mind, but he knew better than to push the Elf Lord for details at this time.  Elrond would come to him when he understood the situation better himself.  Until then, it was up to Glorfindel and his warriors to secure the valley.  They had fought off siege before, and they were certainly capable of doing so again.

 Legolas and Falathar entered the room.   “Lord Glorfindel,” announced the Prince.  “Lord Elrond has accepted my Adar’s offer of the assistance of our warriors.  We await your command.”

Glorfindel looked back and forth between the two young warriors for a moment, quite frankly surprised at the development.  “I most gratefully accept the King’s offer,” he responded.  “We have much ground to cover and many unanswered questions.”

He gestured for the pair to join them around the table.  “Here,” he pointed to the location where Belan had been ambushed, “is where Belan was slain.  However,” he moved his hand to a location several miles away, “this is where the twins found the most signs of orc penetration.”

“Is that area not routinely scouted?” asked Falathar studying the map intently as he tried to memorize the details.

Helcar bristled slightly at the implication, but Glorfindel’s small shake of the head stopped him from making any comment.

Legolas rolled his eyes.  He was going to have to have a talk with Falathar about actually thinking before he blurted out the first thing to cross his mind.  At the rate he was going, he would offend every inhabitant of Imladris before he was finished.

“Yes,” Glorfindel answered, “the area is well scouted.  What we have encountered is finding orc tracks that appear to be several days old when we know that the area was scouted and the tracks not seen.”

“How is that possible?” asked Legolas.

“That is what I would like to know,” replied Glorfindel.  “With the addition of your guards we will be able to cover more ground and, hopefully, find the answer to our riddle.”

“Are you able to discern how far into the valley the orcs have penetrated?” asked Falathar, still somewhat nervous about leaving King Thranduil unguarded.

“At this point, all signs point to the penetration remaining near our outer defenses,” answered Helcar.

“The elf that was slain,” asked Legolas, “was he inexperienced?”

“No!” broke in a voice from the doorway.  “He was one of our most knowledgeable scouts.”

All eyes turned to see who had entered the room.

“Beling,” said Glorfindel. He quickly took in the haggard look of the young warrior.  Beling was only just back from a long, hazardous scouting mission himself.   “You should be with your family now.”

“No, my lord,” he said firmly. “I want to help find the ones who butchered my brother.”  He walked over to the table and stared at the map.  “I know these orcs.  I shadowed them for weeks, and though they never entered our borders they showed an uncanny amount of organization and order.  The fact that I was never able to find their lair is another aspect that marks them as unusual.  There is more to this band than is normal.  Someone or something is aiding them.”

Legolas placed his hand on Beling’s shoulder.  “My condolences on the loss of your brother, my friend,” said the prince.   “Mirkwood stands ready to avenge him.”

“And that we will,” confirmed Falathar. 

“Are you sure you want to do this now?” asked Glorfindel.  “No shame will be assigned to you if you do not feel able to continue.”

Beling’s hand fell onto the area on the map where his brother had been killed.  “This is the place?”

Glorfindel nodded.

“This area is very near the trail most often used by the orcs to attack the settlements.  It is also where I first encountered King Thranduil’s party.”

Falathar paled slightly at Beling’s words.  Had they been close to an ambush themselves?

O-o-O-o-O

Elladan and Elrohir reached the border land near the area where Belan was killed just after first light.  The pair had ridden hard, burning off anger and frustration after their encounter with Falathar.

Elladan leapt from Fuinur’s back.   He knelt down, his hand carefully feeling the outline of the new tracks.  “Look at this, El,” he called.  “These are fresh.”

Elrohir had dismounted from Celon and walked over to where his brother was examining the ground.  He frowned as he studied the tracks.  They led deeper into the sanctuary.  “We’re much closer in than we were last night,” he observed.  “I don’t like this, El,” he said, shaking his head.  “Orcs have should never have made it this far into the valley, especially with us more on alert.”

Elladan rose to his feet, staring into the forest around them.  His instincts were screaming, but his eyes could detect nothing. 

Elrohir picked up on his twin’s feeling and drew his bow.  “I see nothing,” he said softly.

Elladan nodded his head towards Celon, and Elrohir followed his line of sight.  The stallion was standing stock still, his head high, his nostrils flared as he sniffed the air.  Fuinur pranced nervously beside him.

“They feel it too,” said Elladan.  “Perhaps we should not trust our eyes.” 

Before Elrohir could puzzle out what his twin meant, Elladan drew his own bow, notched an arrow and closed his eyes.  Elladan reached out with all the instincts that a son of Elrond possessed, slowly turning to face in towards the inner valley.

Elrohir jumped as suddenly Elladan gave a roar and released his arrow.  Immediately the forest seemed to come alive with vile creatures as orcs charged them from three directions. 

The twins fired arrow after arrow with deadly accuracy until the orcs were too close, and then the pair drew their swords and prepared to meet the charge.   If the orcs thought to make quick work of two lone elves, they were in for a bitter surprise.   These two had long ago perfected the art of orc hunting and were as deadly in their art as any alive.

The pair fell immediately into the back to back formation they had always used.  Their twin bond allowed them to anticipate the actions of the other, which made them as precise a fighting machine as was possible.

Long and hard against the overwhelming odds they fought, frustrating every charge the orcs threw against them.  Celon and Fuinur aided the pair where they could, landing deadly accurate blows with their heavy hooves and helping to even the odds.  But numbers will tell, and even the mightiest swordsman may be felled by a single arrow.

From seemingly out of nowhere a thick black arrow flew straight and true, striking Elladan in the back with a sickening thud of impact.  The twin jerked forward from the blow, landing on his knees before pitching over onto his side.

“El,” screamed Elrohir, as all around him the panting orcs hesitated, drawing back for a moment as though anticipating the feast they were finally about to enjoy. 

“Celon, go!” he commanded, and the blood splattered white stallion bolted for Imladris with Fuinur trailing after him.  Elrohir would not see his faithful horse fall to these foul creatures.

Deliberately the younger twin moved to stand over his fallen brother, a look of fierce determination written in every line on his fair face.  “You will not have him,” he said slowly and deliberately.

TBC