Healing Hope

Chapter Seventy-One

Here to Help

“I have learned that to have a good friend is the purest of all God's gifts, for it is a love that has no exchange of payment.” Frances Farmer

In far away Mirkwood Elrohir sat up and gasped. “Elladan!”

Elrohir’s breath was coming in short gasps as he struggled to understand the searing blast of heat that strengthened and then dissipated with an audible pop inside his head. Ever since he had sensed Elladan in the void and realized that his twin was fading, Elrohir continued to suffer from the debilitating pain he had taken from his brother, as though he were burning up from inside. The irony was that the burning was eclipsed by the emotional agony caused by the severing of his bond with Elladan. Now Elrohir tried to force himself to breathe, but his chest seemed compressed, as though invisible bands would not allow him to inhale. As blackness claimed him, his last conscious realization was of the golden thread inside his heart confirming the restoration of his bond with Elladan. His brother lived!

Estel was just about back to sleep when Elrohir had sat up so quickly and called Elladan’s name. Now, as the child became fully awake, he realized that the arms holding him were slack and that Elrohir was lying back with his eyes closed. Fearful at the sight, Estel tried to shake his brother awake as he called his name. “Ro?”

Erestor held the warm washing cloth to his face for a few seconds before gracefully lifting his ebony hair and moving the cloth to the back of his neck. A faint noise, muffled by the sound of the rushing water, caught his attention, but he was unable to identify it. He continued with his ablutions and was drying his face when Estel’s cry reached his ears clearly. Alarmed at the distress in Estel’s voice, he dropped the towel and rushed into the twin’s bedroom.

Legolas, having come to report his bad tidings to Erestor, was outside Elrohir’s door when he heard Estel’s call. Without pausing to knock, he burst into the room to see what new calamity had befallen them. At the rate things were going, his hair was going to start shedding from the stress! He found Erestor leaning over a dreadfully pale and obviously unconscious Elrohir. Estel was watching tearfully.

Legolas’ concern for Elrohir and his need to reassure Estel warred within the prince for a moment, but Elrohir had Erestor, and that was the deciding factor. “Estel, come to me.”

When Estel heard Legolas, he crawled off the bed and ran into his arms. Legolas picked up the child and soothed him as much as he could.

Erestor looked back when Estel climbed off the bed and saw Legolas. He was grateful that Legolas was there to distract and care for the child. “Prince Legolas,” he managed to say as serenely as possible, for Estel’s sake, “would you be so kind as to summon a healer?” Though Erestor had brought a variety of herbs with him, it would be foolish not to utilize the healers of Mirkwood. They would undoubtedly have access to far more supplies than the Seneschal had carried from Imladris, and one thing Erestor was not, was foolish.

Seeing the fear on Estel’s face, Legolas smiled at him encouragingly. “King Adar would like to share some muffins with you, Estel. Would you like that?”

“But, but Ro...” Estel wailed.

“Master Thedin took good care of you now, did he not?" Legolas asked, walking across the room.

When Estel nodded hesitantly, the Prince continued.

“He will take good care of your brother as well,” replied Legolas. When he reached the door, the Prince looked back at Erestor. “I will take Estel to Adar and then summon the healer.”

Erestor nodded. “Thank you.” Quickly he turned back to Elrohir as a low groan came from the twin. "I am here to help you, young one,” said Erestor.

Elrohir’s head thrashed back and forth on the pillow as he fought off the bands that seemed to constrict his chest and he swam towards consciousness as Erestor’s voice reached him in the darkness.

“Sedho, Elrohir, rest!” soothed the Seneschal, as he assessed what could be affecting the twin now...whether it was related to the lost bond with Elladan or something unknown to him.

O-o-O-o-O

Elrond smiled at his son. “Welcome back, Elladan.” With his thumbs he gently massaged the twin’s temples as he continued to bring his eldest to full consciousness. “You have been on quite a journey.”

The Elf Lord glanced up at Mithrandir. “He is awakening far earlier than I expected.”

“Yes,” mused Mithrandir, thoughtfully stroking his beard. A frown furrowed the Maia’s brow. “I did not anticipate his rejoining us for another few days.

Elladan’s eyes closed briefly, but then weakly batted open once more. “Adar...” He tried to speak again, but his throat was too dry. “Water...” he croaked.

Elrond reached for the cup of water that Sariboril quickly poured and handed to him. “Here,” he offered, holding the cup to Elladan’s parched lips, “just a sip to begin with.”

Tired of trying to see over both Mithrandir and Sariboril, Glorfindel moved over to the side of the bed behind Elrond where he could see for himself how Elladan fared. The Balrog Slayer was relieved beyond measure to see the young one awake.

After accepting several sips of water, Elladan’s head fell back tiredly onto the pillow. “Where is El?” he whispered. “He took so much of the pain...”

Elrond frowned slightly. “What do you mean, Elladan?”

“The burning...” Sleep threatened to claim the twin once more, but Elladan fought it off. He needed to make sure his brother was well. “Adar, El took so much of the pain from me,” he choked.

“Do not talk now Elladan,” Elrond soothed, forcing the shock from his voice. “You need to rest.” Gently he eased his son’s fëa into sleep, and watched the twin’s eyes glaze over as he slipped into the waking dreams of the Eldar.

“What did he mean?” worried Sariboril. As quickly as she asked the question, the healer realized that it was one that should best have been left unspoken, for it would do naught but bring more worry to her Lord, and she could see his proud shoulders already slumped at the news.

Whey faced, Elrond sat back and looked at his son for long moments as his mind raced over the implications. If they had sent Elladan into oblivion while Elrohir was assuming his pain, what had they done to the twin? His glanced quickly at Mithrandir, as did Glorfindel and Sariboril.

The Maia was frowning as he puzzled through the situation. “No,” he assured them, shaking his head slowly. “The spell could not have been shifted to Elrohir...”

The three elves sighed in relief.

“...but,” cautioned Mithrandir, “because of their bond, which I had not considered before, Elrohir might have been left with the pain that he drew from his brother.”

Elrond looked as though he had been slapped. “Elrohir...” What had he done to his son? Not only was Elrohir suffering from the severing of the twin bond, but now it seemed that he was also left with this added pain. The Elf Lord was filled with dread for the younger twin. He closed his eyes, resolutely gathering himself as he attempted to stop the trembling in his hands.

Glorfindel decided then and there to take control of the situation. For months he had watched Elrond push his feelings down as he focused on dealing with one crisis after another, beginning with Quenthar’s kidnapping of Estel. He put his hands on Elrond’s shoulders. “Sariboril will stay with Elladan; you are coming with me.”

O-o-O-o-O

Legolas quickly walked back to the King’s study. He was not surprised to find his Adar still poring over a missive, with Nárë now sitting in one of the adjoining chairs, lounging casually as he carried on a conversation with Thranduil. The torches along the walls had been doused and the only light now came from an oil lamp on the king’s desk reflecting brilliantly on the polished wood.

“Adar,” Legolas announced abruptly, “Estel has come to share the muffins with you.”

Nárë looked puzzled at Legolas’ pronouncement, but the strain on his son’s face and in his voice immediately alerted the King that something was amiss. The fretful look on Estel’s face corroborated the fact. “So I see.” He carefully laid down his quill. “I find I am in need of a snack and hoped you would join me, Estel.”

Estel’s bottom lip quivered. “Ro is sick, King Adar. His eyes were closed.”

Thranduil’s eyes found his son’s.

“As we came in, I asked the guard to summon Master Thedin,” confirmed Legolas.

Nárë stood and stretched with affected nonchalance. “Estel, come with me and we shall pick out the best muffins to bring back here. We can have a picnic here on this nice, shiny table of the King’s.”

“No, you will not!” growled Thranduil good-naturedly. "We will not risk leaving a crumb or two to mar its ever so perfect surface.”

Despite the shenanigans of the pair, Estel hesitated, momentarily rendered insecure by the night’s events. Nárë winked at him. “I will give you a pony ride to the kitchens,” tempted the Weapons Master. With that, he turned around for Legolas to put the child onto his back.

“Pick out a really nice, big muffin for me, Estel,” urged Thranduil with a smile. “I find that I am quite ravenous of a sudden.”

Making sure that he was securely held, Legolas shifted Estel over to Nárë’s back, and the warrior began pawing the ground and neighing like a horse. Jostled, Estel grabbed hold of Nárë’s neck to balance himself as they started off towards the kitchens.

As soon as they were out of Estel’s range of hearing, Thranduil turned to his son. “What has happened? And I want the entire story this time.”

O-o-O-o-O

“Come with me,” repeated Glorfindel.

Still reeling with fear for what had befallen Elrohir, Elrond stood up almost without thinking about it.

“Sariboril, Mithrandir, watch over Elladan,” commanded Glorfindel.

Mithrandir chuckled and nodded while Sariboril looked as though the Balrog Slayer had grown a second head. All she could do was nod dumbly as Glorfindel turned Elrond towards the door and gave him a gentle shove between the shoulder blades to get him moving.

“Walk,” said Glorfindel.

Half way across the room Elrond seemed to break from his dumbfounded state and turn back toward Elladan, but the Balrog Slayer was not to be denied.

“Elladan is in good hands,” admonished Glorfindel. “Come, Hîr nín.”

Elrond looked from Elladan to Glorfindel and then nodded his head in acquiescence. In truth, he was tired and badly in need of a few moments to gather himself else he would not have let his composure slip as he did earlier. “Lead on, maethor valthen nín,” he replied with just a hint of humor and irony warming his voice.

Flushed with his victory, Glorfindel quickly led Elrond to the Elf Lord’s study and out onto his terrace. Dawn was just beginning to warm the eastern sky, painting the mists rising from the Bruinen a rosy hue, while in a nearby tree a lark began her morning song. Elrond was momentarily lost in the beauty of the day’s rebirth as his soul communed with the peaceful surroundings. For long minutes he stood thus, drawing renewed strength from nature.

“What do you see?” asked the Balrog Slayer, breaking the spell cast by the awakening of the valley.

Elrond pulled his eyes from the vista, pondering what his friend could mean. “I assume you are expecting me to look beyond the obvious sunrise.”

“You ever were astute, mellon nín,” grinned Glorfindel, as he leaned back against the railing and crossed his legs at the ankles.

Elrond looked back to the east, allowing his mind and heart to follow the trails of Arda to Mirkwood. “My sons,” he said softly.

Glorfindel nodded, as though approving a pupil. “And who is with them this very moment?”

A warm smile graced Elrond’s features. “Erestor.”

“Erestor,” repeated Glorfindel, “who is a healer, a warrior, and where the children of Elrond are concerned, like a mother hen with her chicks. Elrohir is in good hands.”

Elrond sighed. “You are correct, of course.”

“Iston,” chuckled the warrior, drawing a raised eyebrow from Elrond.

“Do not push your advantage past where it can go,” cautioned the Elf Lord with a wry smile. “As I was about to say, I can do nothing to aid Elrohir, and worry for him will only be sensed by Elladan.”

Glorfindel’s smile widened. “Exactly...now, shall we enjoy a pot of tea before going back to the healing rooms?”

Elrond relaxed against the railing, gathering strength from the vista and from the one by his side. “You are my strong right arm, Glorfindel. Hannon le.”

“It is my pleasure, mellon nín.”

O-o-O-o-O

“Adar,” Legolas began hesitantly.

“The entire story, Lasgalen,” insisted Thranduil. “We believe we are owed that much.”

Legolas practically deflated with relief. He had wanted to talk to his father about it earlier, but felt compelled by Erestor’s caution not to do so. That was before the present crisis. “I wanted to tell you before…”

“But it was a personal matter,” finished Thranduil. “I understand that child, but the situation has obviously changed.” The king pulled out a chair. “Come, sit beside me and tell me what has happened, for I cannot properly judge the circumstances without all the facts.”

‘How true this was,’ Legolas thought bitterly, as he took the proffered seat. “If I had been able to forewarn you about what happened with Celeg, the incident earlier might have been avoided entirely.”

Thranduil raised an amused eyebrow. “That is possible.” He could not resist caressing his son’s cheek when remorse flickered across Legolas’ features. “However,” he added sternly, “we cannot know that for sure. Do not take on guilt that is not yours to bear.”

Legolas nodded. “How did you become so wise?”

“Wise?” Thranduil chuckled, “I am a monster, and you, I think, are putting off the inevitable.”

The Prince could not keep the smile from his face, even under the circumstances. “I love you, Adar.”

“As I love you, Greenleaf…now, the rest of the story, if you please.”

Legolas took a deep breath and began. “When I went to tell Erestor that…” embarrassed, Legolas paused.

“Continue,” urged Thranduil.

“When I went to tell Erestor that you were unable to change your mind about the decree,” he paused to give a quick glance to his father, before continuing. “When I approached the room, I heard Estel’s cry and entered. Elrohir was unconscious.”

“I noted during the audience that he bore a certain pallor,” reflected Thranduil. “You told me Elrohir has not been wounded, so what has happened?”

Legolas was frustrated, at a loss as to how to explain. “I do not understand all the ramifications of what the twin was experiencing.” Legolas swallowed and met his father’s eyes.

“It is easier if you just say it, Lasgalen, and stop all the preambles.”

Legolas sighed. His Adar was correct. 'As always,' he added ruefully to himself. “The twin bond between Elladan and Elrohir has been severed, and it is causing his current state. Lord Erestor told me that he found Elrohir practically unconscious on the floor before the audience.”

Thranduil stood up and walked a few feet away from the desk as he thought about what he had just been told. The grief he could see starkly written in his son’s eyes could only be a small portion of what Elrohir must be feeling. Now the onus rested on him, and the king was uniquely aware of the burden of leadership this night.

TBC

Translations:

Sedho - Rest

Hîr nín – my lord

maethor valthen nín - My Golden warrior

Iston – I know

Hannon le – Thank you