Healing Hope

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Things Begin Badly

“I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.”

James Baldwin

Glorfindel was just clearing the top step to the third floor as Elladan was falling. The Golden Warrior reacted with lightening speed, but even he could not stop the inevitable. “Elladan!”

The twin never heard the Balrog Slayer’s call. He was unconscious even before his body crashed onto the floor.

Glorfindel raced down the corridor towards the fallen twin, quickly kneeling down beside him. Elladan was not moving and appeared to him to be lifeless. What could have caused this? Before attempting to move the stricken twin, Glorfindel ran his hands over Elladan’s body checking for any new wounds or breaks. While the prospect of a new wound was unlikely, given that the twin was inside his own home, Quenthar’s treachery the previous year had reminded them all of the sad fact that nowhere on Arda was safe and that danger could intrude even inside the Last Homely House The twin’s shoulder was bleeding again, but he found nothing else.

Still on the terrace, Elrond reacted immediately to the sound of his son’s name being called by Glorfindel. The Elf Lord was on his feet and running almost before his friend’s voice died away. Only slightly behind Elrond, Mithrandir followed as they hurried towards the third floor.

Outside the Last Homely House Helcar was speaking with three of his guards. After the wounding of the twins and the death of Belan, the Commander of Inner Defenses was keeping his Lord’s home guarded until he was absolutely sure that the threat was over. The three heard Glorfindel’s call and reacted quickly. Helcar turned to the senior guard. “Tighten the perimeter around the house; see that nothing gets through!”

“With me,” Helcar ordered the remaining two guards. The three rushed into the house in time to see Elrond and Mithrandir ascending the steps. Helcar led his warriors after them.

Elrond topped the steps to find Glorfindel kneeling beside Elladan. “What has happened?” he asked, as he dropped down beside Elladan. His hands repeated Glorfindel’s path as he assured himself that his son had suffered no new wounds.

Helcar stopped behind Mithrandir, immediately assessing the situation. “Stay with Lord Elrond,” he told the guards, who immediately assumed a defensive position around their Lord. Helcar then moved past the group to assure himself that the Healing Room was free from any intruder.

“He appeared to be attempting to walk down the landing to the stairs,” explained the Balrog Slayer. “He collapsed before I could reach him.”

“Did he say anything?” asked Elrond.

“No,” replied Glorfindel. “I do not believe that he was even aware of my presence.”

Elrond sighed. Why would his son be trying to leave the Healing Room? It made no sense. “Help me turn him over, Glorfindel.” Elrond slid one hand behind Elladan’s head and the other just under his arm so that his head, neck, and wounded shoulder would be supported while Glorfindel did the work of actually turning the twin. Working in tandem, the two turned Elladan over onto his back. His wound was bleeding freely now, but whether from the fall or before it, Elrond could not yet tell.

From behind them they heard a gasp. Sariboril too had heard the Balrog Slayer’s shout and made it up the three flights of steps as expediently as her healing body would allow. “What is it? What has happened?”

Before anyone could answer, Helcar emerged from the Healing Room to stand behind Glorfindel. “All is secure; there is no sign of unwarranted entry.”

“I do not believe that Elladan has been attacked again,” said Mithrandir, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

Stunned, Elrond looked up at Mithrandir. “What are you saying?”

“I sense...” The Wizard’s words dropped off as his eyes closed in deep concentration. Suddenly his eyes popped open. “We must hurry!” He started down the hallway towards the healing room even as Glorfindel was scooping the twin into his arms to follow. “Quickly now,” Mithrandir urged. “We have no time to lose!”

O-o-O-o-O

“A banquet?” Legolas blinked in astonishment. “A banquet?” he reiterated, a bit louder.

“Desist with the blinking, Greenleaf,” chided the King. “We cannot have our heir resemble a wood owl.” Thranduil chuckled at his own pun.

Legolas stared at his father for a moment and then shook his head as though in denial. His stomach knotted in dread. He never dreamed that anyone from Imladris would appear before Estel had time to heal completely. “The twins are going to...see Estel!”

Thranduil tilted his head royally and peered down at this son. “Your point being?”

“My point?” Legolas sputtered. “My point!”

“You are repeating yourself, Lasgalen,” the king said calmly. “If this is some new manner of speech you have affected, we are most displeased with it.”

Legolas opened and closed his mouth several times as he gathered his thoughts to attempt to convey the seriousness of the situation to his father “Adar, he looks terrible!”

Thranduil looked mildly insulted. “What happened to Estel is regrettable, but cannot be undone before he is reunited with his family. These are reasonable elves; they will allow us to explain the circumstances...”

Legolas could not believe what he was hearing. These were the twins he was talking about! “Reasonable?” The Prince opened his mouth again, but never got the word out.

“Legolas, do not repeat that word!” Thranduil thundered. “One begins to think you are afraid of these Noldor!”

Legolas flushed. “I am not!”

“Good,” replied the king, “then let us prepare for our banquet. Our guests will be weary from travel and in need of refreshing.” He turned to Nárë. “Have them escorted to their quarters.”

“I will see to it,” replied the warrior.

“Then Nárë,” Thranduil added with a wink, “let us introduce these Noldor to some real wine!”

Legolas sighed. This was going to be a disaster!

O-o-O-o-O

Elrohir pulled himself from his musings. They were nearing the bridge across the Forest River and would soon be approaching Thranduil’s Caverns. Flowing from the Ered Mithrin, the Grey Mountains, the waters ran dark and cold, and the twin shuddered slightly at their foreboding appearance. He glanced over at Erestor to see whether or not he too seemed anxious, and found Erestor staring back at him as though the Seneschal could read his thoughts.

“Hebo estel, Elrohir,” Erestor counseled. “Elladan will not leave the circles of this world without you.”

The twin was saved from replying by the clatter of the horses’ hooves as they crossed the rock bridge.

Beling pulled his horse up to Elrohir’s other side. “Elrohir, how long shall we stay here?”

Elrohir looked at his friend as though he’d lost his mind. “We will leave immediately.”

Beling’s eyes went from the twin to Erestor and then back to Elrohir. Rather than argue, he simply bowed his head. “As you wish...” He moved to pull his horse back.

“Wait,” Elrohir’s voice stayed his movement. “We must allow the horses a few hours of respite and some food.” The twin hated to contemplate even a moment’s loss of time, but his little brother’s safety would now be his utmost concern. He must be certain that their mounts were in peak condition. “We will leave once the troop is sufficiently rested.”

Beside the pair, Erestor smiled to himself, pleased with Elrohir’s decision. The Seneschal caught movement ahead. “Elrohir...”

Before he could complete his sentence four Mirkwood warriors dropped from the trees before them. Elrohir held up his hand to halt his troop.

“Do you always allow strangers to approach the very gates of your palace?” asked Beling, genuinely puzzled as to how they were able to approach so closely without escort.

The elf before him snorted with derision. Looking at Elrohir, he addressed Beling. “We have been shadowing you for many miles, Noldo.” He said the last word as though it was distasteful. The Wood-elves were proud and not unaware that some of the Noldorin and Sindarin elves felt them inferior. The Wood-elves prided themselves on their independence and even on the fierceness with which they defended their kingdom from evil and outsiders alike. No one crossed into the realm without it being noted by the numerous and highly proficient scouts of Thranduil. “None enter our kingdom without our knowledge.”

“Or our permission,” added another warrior who looked, if anything, more haughty than the first.

Beling growled softly at the insult to Elrohir and moved his hand to the hilt of his sword. The other guards, seeing Beling’s movement, quickly did the same. Erestor noted the movement, but was not concerned that any actual hostilities would ensue. The young ones always felt the need to ruffle their feathers before each other. They rather reminded him of a pet peacock that had roamed around his home as a child. No, he was more interested in seeing how Elrohir handled the situation. This was not the twin’s first introduction to the art of diplomacy, but he had never before been called upon to do so in such stressful circumstances as this.

Ignoring the second statement, Elrohir hitched his eyebrow as he stared at the first guard. “Are you related to Haldir, by any chance?” Before the surprised warrior could answer this ridiculous query, Elrohir continued. “No, of course you are not.” He smiled without humor. “You simply remind me of him.”

A couple of sniggers could be heard from the Imladris party causing several more of the Silvan warriors to drop from the trees surrounding them.

Legolas and Táron exited the palace and saw the confrontation. Legolas sighed, “Come on, Táron, we may need to intervene.” Legolas could see that, so intent were they on their confrontation, none of the elves had noted the arrival of the Prince. He stopped, content to just listen for a few moments. He was curious to see how this would play out.

“Speak carefully, for they could be your last words,” mocked the guard, oblivious to Legolas standing a few yards behind him.

Elrohir burst into laughter, startling both sets of warriors. “Enough of this,” he said, and then grew deadly serious. He jumped from Celon’s back and stood toe to toe with the guard. “I have come for my brother...now.”

“Finally…” The voice clearly resonated in the clearing, freezing Legolas’ blood for a moment. It was the same voice he had heard from the talan saying that he should have let Estel fall to his death.

Fury washed over the prince. “Who said that?” he demanded.

Before any of the other startled elves could speak, Táron was moving from Legolas’ side. “Here, my Prince,” he called. “I saw the one!” The guard hurriedly grabbed one of the archers and pushed him before Legolas. Táron had no idea why the archer’s words had so angered the prince, but there was no denying the fire in Legolas’ eyes.

Legolas, realizing that he was the center of attention, decided that this was one confrontation he did not want to make in public. Never taking his eyes from the sullen archer, Legolas straightened his shoulders. “Táron, take this elf to a holding cell; I will deal with him later.”

That certainly gained everyone’s attention. Only King Thranduil could send someone to the dungeons of Mirkwood, but a holding cell was certainly within Legolas’ authority as Heir to the Throne as well as a Commander of Warriors.

“Come on, you,” barked Táron, grabbing the elf by the shoulder. “I do not know what you have done to so incense our Prince, but I would not want to be in your position.”

The angry elf shook off Táron’s hand and glared at Legolas. “I only voiced what many here thought!” The elf was so irate that he failed to note the proximity of the Noldo Lord behind him. “Humans have caused us nothing but grief! They should all be killed before they can corrupt our lands...”

The elf’s voice ended in a strangled gasp as Elrohir grabbed him by the hair from behind. Before the archer even knew what was happening he found his head pulled back and Elrohir’s dagger at his throat. “Of what human do you speak, ignorant one?” The twin’s eyes gleamed, and he tightened his hold as he saw defiance on the guard’s face. “It would not be my brother, would it?”

Several of the Silvan guards moved as though to intervene, but Legolas shook his head to stop them. “Do you know who it is you have offended with your evil talk?” the Prince asked the foolish elf, who could only shift his eyes over to see him, for if he moved any Elrohir dagger would cut his throat. “He is one of the Duo of Death.”

Elrohir would normally have rolled his eyes at that, but he was too tired, frustrated, worried and generally irritated to react to anything but the anger he felt towards this guard. “I would not have expected this kind of intolerance from one of the first born,” he finally said with disgust. With one swift movement he removed and sheathed his dagger and threw the elf at Legolas feet. Elrohir was suddenly very weary with all of it...the worry for his twin, the continual onslaught from orcs, the need to be constantly on guard, and the loss of too many he loved over the millennia. He sighed. “Please just take me to Estel.”

Behind him, Erestor cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should first pay our respects to King Thranduil.”

Elrohir nodded his head tiredly and sighed. “Yes, of course. Forgive my lapse of manners, Legolas.”

Erestor beamed with pride. Elrohir was his father’s son! Not to mention that he had been ready to do some damage of his own to that bigoted elf, but the twin had beaten him to it! Oh, Glorfindel would enjoy hearing that tale!

Legolas wanted to inquire as to why Elladan had not come with his twin, for surely he had had sufficient time to heal from the orc attack. However, the Prince realized that now was not the best time for questions. He stepped forward and placed his hand on Elrohir’s shoulder. “Come, arrangements have been made for you to refresh yourselves after your journey.” He ordered one of the guards to see to the horses as the party dismounted.

Legolas led the group towards the palace while the guard began to gather the reins of the mounts. Celos and Celon were not about to be led anywhere, however. The twin whites shook off the guard as though he was no more than a pesky fly and headed straight for Elrohir. Both had sensed the tension in the air and were not about to be led away and separated from one they loved and protected.

Hearing the commotion behind him, Legolas turned around. The guard he had assigned to the horses was lying on the ground where Celos had flung him, and the rest of the horses were now following Celos as he proudly led the way to the palace.

When Legolas stopped, the party from Imladris did also. Elrohir almost smiled and Erestor gave an affected sigh when they saw Celos and Celon leading the horses behind them. Those worrisome horses would be the death of him yet, he just knew it. Not only did they disrupt dinners in the Hall of Fire, but apparently they were now going to try to do the same thing in Thranduil’s Kingdom.

“Beling,” Erestor groaned. “Will you please assist with the horses?”

“Of course,” agreed the affable elf. Beling turned to help gather the horses but then quickly faltered and turned back to the group. “You will wait on me...will you not?” he finished meekly. “You will not leave me?”

Confused, Erestor just stared at him trying to figure out what had Beling so nervous all of a sudden. “What has you concerned, Beling?”

Beling was twisting the reins in his hands as he looked back and forth from Legolas to Erestor. “Those...those things are out there, my Lord,” he finally admitted sheepishly. “You know...the spiders!” He looked quickly to Legolas. “I mean no disrespect, Prince Legolas.”

Legolas could almost have smiled if he were not so anxious about what was to come. “Our gates are well guarded, Beling,” soothed Legolas. “You need have no fear of the spiders.”

Reassured, but not completely convinced, Beling nodded and led Celos and Celon in the direction indicated by the Mirkwood warrior. Beling noted that the Silvan looked extremely amused and had the distinct feeling that he was the source of the guard’s humor. Beling sighed, but then brightened. After all, he was a naturally optimistic elf. Besides, after such a bad beginning, things had to go better after this!

TBC

Translation:

Hebo estel: Have hope