TITLE: Nothin’ Special, Chapter Eight
PROMPT: #175: Big (499 words)
AUTHOR: Marethiel/ThinkingLady
RATING: PG-13 (for potentially disturbing images)
DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em, drat it. I just take ‘em out to play. Many thanks to Professor Tolkien for creating these wonderful souls to populate my imagination.
NOTES: Sequential sequel to Prompt #168: Special
Even while whipping around, using the accumulated torque of his sword arm to separate an orc’s head from its body, Glorfindel’s sharp eyes took in the rest of the battle site. The twins held their own: Elladan’s sword sang as it cut down the beasts in his path with deadly accuracy; Elrohir’s short swords flew so fast they were hard to track. The rest of the Imladris guard cleared the cave mouth with brutal, vicious precision, giving room for Thranduil and his party to move ever closer to the entrance.
It had been Thranduil’s wisdom to position several archers covering nothing but the cave mouth; the last thing the rescuers needed were orcs rushing the cave to eliminate the prisoners.
It was over in a very short time. Thranduil did not wait until all was clear out front; he rushed in, prepared for almost anything. Glorfindel begged the Valar to let him not find his beloved son dead… nor Estel.
Elladan, too, entered the cave while the rest finished off their prey.
Glorfindel entered at an alarmed run when he heard sounds within of Thranduil in a rage. He skidded to a stop, wild-eyed, then smirked to see the Elvenking trying to wrench the mounted shackles out of the cave wall over the prisoners with his bare hands. Glorfindel had to wrest the King’s grip from the metal and bring him back to himself before he injured his hands, and only Glorfindel’s insistence that Legolas needed his sire to hold him upright could sway him.
Elladan supported Estel and Thranduil his son while a search was made of the orc carcasses for keys. Legolas managed to remain conscious; Estel sank into oblivion when the strong protective arms and gentle comforting words of his big brother surrounded him.
As Elladan and Elrohir labored over their young brother, Glorfindel examined Legolas and was relieved to be able to tell his father that aside from the remnants of a vicious beating, it appeared the Prince would recover.
Sadly, Estel had not fared as well. Elladan’s lips thinned as he studied the gashes in his young brother’s skin, the deep bruising on his lower back, praying there was no damage to kidneys or other organs. Miserably, while Elladan was still working, Estel regained consciousness and had to endure yet more pain and discomfort, but this time as his brothers’ hands. He was a stalwart young man, but even he could not avoid crying out as the most painful of his wounds were tended.
Glorfindel tried to distract the youngster with stories of their tracking them, planning their rescue, and then seeing Thranduil trying to take apart the cave, stone by stone. Estel smiled slightly at the memory of seeing Thranduil’s raw power and fury; it had made him appear huge in the cave’s small space.
“Truly, young Elrondion, he appeared as large as the Argonath,” finished Glorfindel, smiling fondly at the King, calmer now as he sang softly over his son dozing peacefully.
** to be continued **