Disclaimer:

The characters, places, and events are creations of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit was or will be made from this story. It was written solely for entertainment.

Author’s note:

As always many, many thanks to my wonderful beta reader Erulisse.

Summary:

Imladris is swarmed with orcs. The elves struggle valiant but will it be enough in the end?

Rating: PG-13

Warning: the story is rated PG-13: this chapter contains violence, disturbing themes and death

Chapter 1:  the end of all days; Elrond’s POV

I stepped back into the alcove just in time to avoid the searching gaze of an Uruk-hai. Briefly closing my eyes I gripped the hilt of my sword that my knuckles went white.

I suppressed my first impulse to come forth and slain the brute stalking through the entry hall of my house. Only the last shreds of rationality stayed my hand. Contradicting the Uruks now would only end with my death and so I would not be able to rescue what was still worth rescuing.

My fury however was quickly replaced by sorrow when my searching gaze encountered the many dead elves lying strewn all over the floor of the hall.

Hardened because of the many wars I had fought and used to such cruelties my heart still clenched and the many years of peace had stored away such pictures in deep recesses of my mind with the hope of never being forced to see them again.

But the dead lying in the hall were from no memory they were real. I could smell the blood flowing over the floor and it let my stomach lurch.

These were no warriors, merely members of the staff and they had no chance to defend themselves against the vehemence of an advancing orc much less an Uruk-hai.

With a sharp intake of breath I pressed my left hand against a deep gash running down the length of my right side left from a dirty orc scimitar while I had fought my way through the hall. The blood loss already made me dizzy and let me feel light-headed. If the wound would not be treated any time soon I would not have to worry over other things anymore. Again I clearly felt what it meant to be Half-elven.

Again I risked a glance at the hall but ducked back when even more orcs pressed through the front door. Valar, this could not be. Where had these masses suddenly come from?

Most of the warriors were fighting outside the house and I could not hope for help from this side. They had all hands full in their helpless attempt to hold back the incredible numbers of orcs invading the valley.

Many warriors of the inner and the outer defence had been slain during the first attack wave and hordes after hordes were still pouring into the valley. Glorfindel I had not seen for hours.

When I heard the plump steps of an orc nearing my spot from the other side of the corridor I flattened myself even more against the wall. I could smell them before I saw them.

Again I had to stay my hand and not charge at them knowing that my superior fighting skill could not match the huge numbers roaming though the house in the end. Ten orcs passed my hiding place without noticing me or even looking into my direction.

I had to get out of the house. Here I could achieve nothing. Every room – from the library to the Hall of fire - was crowded with orcs, tearing all apart where they could get their filthy hands on.

The east wing of the house had long collapsed after the Uruks

had played havoc in the kitchen and somehow managed to dismantle the great hearth.

With no helpers there anymore to confine the fire it had unchecked spread throughout the room and beyond and left nothing but destruction in its wake.

I hastened through a side corridor but before I could reach the portal my blood run cold in my veins at the scene I could glimpse while hastening past a room.

I saw my youngest son Elrohir kneeling on the floor lifting the limp body of an elfling into his arms unaware of the Uruk behind the door it’s scimitar raised for the final blow.

Unbidden came the many dead children to my mind which I had encountered after checking on the nursery. My councillor Erestor and I had fought hard to reach this side of the house but after we had hacked our way through uncounted bodies of orcs our effort was in vain.

The orcs had made a thorough job of killing all elflings including Liriel and Thaniel, their nurses. Erestor had been killed too while holding four Uruhs in check to give me the opportunity to check on the children and look if anyone was still alive.

No breath anywhere in the nursery and one of my loyalist companions dead I fought the remaining Uruk down my fury lending me strength that was frightening.

This day had already seen the dead of my oldest son Elladan and of so many friends and companions that I thought there was no increase of sorrow possible. Yet the scene unfolding before me was promising otherwise.

I was going to lose another son. My heart nothing more then a deep and black hole, my hands are shaking with fury and from fever I uttered a battle cry in the hope to rescue at last one of my children.

To be continued……………………

Chapter 2:  and so it begins

Ten hours before…….Elrond’s POV

I jerked out of my chair when the horn of the border guard echoed through the valley. With long strides I walked across my office and yanked the double doors at the balcony open. For millennia I hadn’t heard the horn, in fact I hadn’t heard it at all since the end of the war in Eregion in the Second Age. The signal had been created for the rare cases when the sheltered valley had been discovered by the enemy.

My gut clenched the moment I extended my senses out in the surrounding vale. From all sides masses of orcs and Uruk-hai were breaching our borders. They were running down the patrols, overwhelming them with their sheer numbers. I had no time to explore why I had not noticed this earlier.

I saw my Troop Commander racing into the valley and shouting from afar telling me what evil was afflicting my beloved home. He was only confirming what my senses had already told me.

Imladris was not a secret anymore. The enemy had finally found our hiding place and was attacking with such a great force that I did not even bother to call to the river for a last defence. The energy I would waste might be needed more urgently later.

I stopped listening to what Glorfindel was shouting knowing that he would re-arrange all available warriors within and outside the house. I hastened through my office to the opposite wall shedding my long robe while running.

With a determined tug I pull the long sword from its resting place high on the wall. I did not bother putting on the scabbard, knowing that I would not need the protection any time soon.

The steel felt warm and solid in my hands. Even if I hadn’t used the beautiful weapon in hundred of years I felt instantly familiar with the hum vibrating through it.

After a few swings to loosen up and reacquaint myself with its balance I turned and opened the hallway door forcefully. At the last moment I jerked the weapon back cutting a few strands of my councillor’s hair away as I pulled the blade back to me.

Erestor looked at me with an irritated glare but he merely tilted his head towards the corridor. After descending the great staircase we stepped into a hallway and I narrowed my eyes, concerned. Uruks had already rammed the massive entry door open and were now swarming the hall. Side by side we stepped forward to prevent the Uruks from killing more of my people. Two ellith had already been slain. The women had unfortunately been standing directly behind the doors when the first Uruk-hai had stormed in.

Anger and devastation lent us strength and we made quick work of the five Uruks and over twenty orcs already in the hall. Erestor, for millennia dedicated to scholarly pursuits, wielded his sword as effectively as any experienced warrior.

Yet even with our superior fighting skills and high motivation we had to draw back in the end. We had the skill but the orcs had the numbers. Their uncounted masses continued pressing forward and into the house without cease.

I told Erestor to take the left corridor toward the Hall of Fire. He would gather as many elves as possible and try to bring them to safety – a safety that was currently outside the house rather than inside.

I would head down toward the west wing to see if I could help in the infirmary – the likeliest place inhabitants would go for shelter and help. Briefly I wondered where Glorfindel had vanished to. I hadn’t seen any sign of my sons either.

I had barely cleared the main corridor and veered to the left to pass by the library when the door was yanked open. Galathil, the chief librarian, staggered out, a long spear sticking out of his back. I didn’t even have time to catch his collapsing body as I ducked to evade an arrow fired toward me from inside the room.

Seeing that Galathil was dead I abandoned the library. As much as the destruction the orcs would wreck in the room tore at my heart, it was nothing compared to the horror I experienced while fighting my way down the corridor as I continued toward the infirmary.

The corridor was already littered with dead elven bodies, male, female and elflings alike. My fury and determination rose with every scream I heard from behind closed doors and from every slain member of my household I came across. I showed no mercy towards any orc or Uruck-hai within reach of my sword.

Again I was nearly overwhelmed – both mentally and physically - by the sheer number of the foul beasts that were invading my house and the valley. This attack had nothing in common with earlier occasional clashes with bands of orcs creeping around the valley. Through those encounters even those who had been fortunate enough to find the hidden entrance had never lived long enough to tell the tale.

But this attack had been planned by a greater force and the numbers indicated that now the evil powers in the world had been merged into an army dedicated to finally eliminate the elven race.

This was exactly what was happening in my valley and if no miracle happened no one would survive to tell this tale or warn the other elven realms. I had the distinct feeling that this was only the beginning and that the other elven havens would be confronted with the same fate in coming days if they were not already under attack. Because I was actively fighting I had no time to far-speak with Galadriel and I could only speculate about what might be happening in Mirkwood.

Suddenly Erestor was at my side again. I looked at him with surprise and irritation. Hadn’t I asked him to check on the Hall of Fire and rescue as many inhabitants as possible? Before I could say anything to him he raised his eyes and I saw that they held so much sorrow that I nearly stepped back from shock.

“My services at the Hall of Fire were no longer needed,” he said as he turned to slay an orc sneaking up at us. I looked at him in disbelief, yet my heart told me that his words were true.

We heard high pitched cries as another door was forcefully rammed open. We turned as one and ran further down the corridor.

Without thought we cleared the last corner and hastened across the corridor to enter the nursery. The sight that greeted me caused my stomach to revolt. Four elflings were already lying dead on the floor and another one was being sliced through by the long scimitar of an Uruk.

Now my restraint left me; my sanity took leave and a red haze took over. With a cry borne out of anguish, fury and the sole desire to kill these brutes I rushed into the room and hacked and twisted, parried and dealt blow after blow until no enemy, orc or Uruk-hai was left alive.

With my councillor on my side we made sure that no orc had escaped or were hidden even in the smallest crevice.

When our heart beats had slowed and the adrenalin rush reached almost normal levels our swords were bloody from tip to hilt. Dropping our weapons we crawled from one little body to the next in the hope of finding someone – anyone - still alive.

I kept one eye on the door, almost wishing for another orc to appear to give me the opportunity to vent my overwhelming anger and relieve my sorrow. But neither of my wishes, to either find someone still breathing or more orcs to fight against, was granted me.

Not looking at my advisor I retrieved my sword and was just about to leave this place of death when four Uruks crashed into the room attacking us at once. I watched admiringly as Erestor whirled around, grabbed his sword from the floor and with an impossible twist felled the first Uruk storming into the room.

I turned and fought the second Uruk-hai. Space and time blended together as we reactivated fighting skills long buried but never forgotten. Yet, all our strength and agility was not sufficient. Erestor was slain and I had no chance to prevent it since I was still fighting two Uruks at the time.

Seeing my long time friend fall snapped another cord in my very being and I managed to hack the two monstrous Uruks into pieces. I was too late to rescue my companion but my anger allowed me to hold onto my last shreds of sanity.

My trained eye needed no further confirmation. Erestor was dead. I left the room and simply followed the noise of battle.

Further down the corridor, almost at the entrance of the healing wing I saw a hunched figure kneeling on the floor holding a slender body pressed to his chest.

My breath caught and all air movement ceased. It suddenly seemed impossible to inhale. Without even seeing their faces, the postures of the elves in front of me told me that I had found my sons.

Just as I thought that nothing worse could happen the bond forever connecting me with my children snapped. I heard the call of Lord Namó summoning the fea of my eldest home. Echoing the anguished cry from Elrohir I fell to my knees beside my son, yet the youth only stared ahead with blank eyes.

Again I was granted no time to take a breath when the door to the healing wing opened and I could look past the great doors. Orcs were hacking at all that moved, patients and healers alike, turning the pristine white room into a mass of blood.

I had not yet found the strength to rise and go to the healing room when the side corridor door opened and Thalan, Glorfindel´s second in command stormed in. When he saw me he sank to his knees in front of me directing sorrowful eyes at me.

“He’s dead,” was all he whispered and I didn’t have to ask who he meant. Briefly I looked back into the corridor but Elrohir had vanished. Elladan’s body was also no longer there.

Raising my sword I stood up and uttered an unearthly cry. I stormed into the infirmary Thalan on my heels…….

To be continued      ……………………………………

Chapter 3:  what the future tells

 “Elrond – tolo dan na galad (come back to the light),” Glorfindel the former captain of Gondolin and now Troop Commander of Imladris and protector of the line of Eärendil repeated in a low but demanding voice.

Carefully, yet with some force he was shaking the shoulders of the elf lying prone on the floor.

He had just reported to the Lord of Imladis when the Half-elf had suddenly stiffened and a second later had collapsed to the floor without warning.

Stunned for just a moment the warrior had quickly crossed to his friend, kneeling beside him not bothering with the shards of the broken tea cup strewn about.

Even if he already guessed what had caused the sudden blackout he was taken aback by its suddenness and vehemence. He was long accustomed to the visions that occasionally afflicted his Lord. If he was present, Glorfindel had always seen the first signs and was able to react accordingly.

This time however it was different. Seconds before the Elf-lord had been felled Glorfindel had felt such an overwhelming rush of evil that he had staggered back from the assault.

Never before had he experienced something like that. After regaining his inner equilibrium and shutting his senses against the invasion he had looked up at the other Elf-lord just in time to see him fall.

Getting no response Glorfindel sat down, pulling the Elf-lord’s head to be pillowed on his thigh. He knew that Elrond’s visions were usually short-lived but that occasionally they would last for hours. He made himself as comfortable as possible knowing that help would not be long in arriving.

He placed both of his palms against the healer’s face and proceeded to support him with his own mental strength. Instantly Glorfindel felt that this time something was different.

The vision was powerful, intense and overwhelming. He was hard-pressed not to remove his hands. He concentrated harder, channelling as much mental energy as he could spare into his friend’s body. Despite his efforts he felt that he was unable to break the barrier much less reach his friend’s mind.

A greater power then usual was at work here. The barrier around his Lord’s mind was solid and insuperable. Where Glorfindel had in past times glimpsed shreds of what the healer was experiencing, this time he could perceive nothing. What he could feel however was the utter darkness which had ensnared the Elf-lord’s being.

Glorfindel was not even sure if it was a vision or if the dark haired Elf-lord was being attacked directly on a mental level.

His worry increased. Elrond was used to visions and knew how to counter them. He had developed his strategies when his mind was attacked directly by the dark powers still residing in Middle earth, yet this time nothing appeared as it had been.

Where the Elf-lord was otherwise listless as long as the visions lasted, this time he moaned and shivered, breathing heavily as if in pain.

Glorfindel knew instantly that the Elf-lord was experiencing something terrible, something that even the balanced Half-elf Master of Imladris could not bear alone. This time it would not do to just sit beside him and lend him his strength. They had to do something quickly.

The heartbeat of his friend had increased alarmingly and cold sweat was appearing on his brow. The cramped muscles and their increasing tremors heralded nothing good.

However, before Glorfindel could think anything further the door to the study was pushed open and the healer’s twin sons rushed inside.

While Elrohir kept standing beside his father and looked at his mentor with a gaze partly demanding an explanation and partly reflecting his great worry in his dark eyes, Elladan had instantly knelt down and reached out a hand to connect with his father’s mind.

Feeling the younger elf’s presence in the aether Glorfindel pulled back slightly to give Elladan the opportunity to concentrate without disturbance. He lingered in the background to lend support if needed.

Feeling the gaze of the younger twin still directed at him Glorfindel looked up.

“It came without warning. Suddenly in the middle of a sentence he stiffened and collapsed to the floor. Yet something is different this time. It feels darker, more sinister.”

Where Elladan only snorted, Elrohir nodded absentmindedly. He and his brother had been just on their way from the stables into the house when their father had been assaulted. The emotions coming through their bond were so intense that Elladan had to lean on a pillar for support while Elrohir sank to the ground his eyesight suddenly blurred.

They had always sensed when their father had been afflicted by a vision or had been mentally attacked, yet it had never been this powerful and the evil flooding their minds nearly took their breaths away.

After regaining their composure they had headed into the house not sure what had happened or even if they had experienced a vision at all.

Elrohir joined his brother and knelt beside his father too. He placed his left hand on the older elf’s chest while with the right he clasped his brother’s hand.

Like Glorfindel before him, he was hard pressed not to remove his hand as he was nearly overwhelmed by the darkness assaulting his very being.

“That’s no vision,” Elladan suddenly growled. “Someone or something is attacking father while sending him into terrible emotional chaos. I could only glimpse shreds… It’s horrible.”

Elladan squeezed his eyes shut to bar his mind against the horror he had seen. Elrohir opened his bond to his brother to relieve him of some of the mental pain.

Seeing the reactions of the brothers Glorfindel could only guess what they were experiencing, yet the dreadful sight of his friend’s body left limited room for interpretation.

Glorfindel instinctively removed his hands when the Elf-lord suddenly uttered a cry full of anguish and horror. Elrohir rose and hurried out of the room. Elladan stood also and began to gather the body of his father in his arms.

Glorfindel was on his feet too. He rushed to the sofa and removed all of the blankets from it before Elladan placed the dark haired elf down upon it. As expected it didn’t take long until Elrohir returned with Tinár, Elrond’s head healer in tow.

The young healer rushed over but faltered momentarily at the sight that greeted him. The Lord of Imladris was wildly trashing about, only Glorfindel’s restraining hands keeping him on the couch. His face was grey and his breathing was laboured.

“What in the name of the Valar…..,” was all Elrond’s assistant uttered before he stepped next to the sofa and felt his lord’s pulse. With a shake of his head he conveyed the message that something was drastically wrong.

“We have to bring him out of this state, otherwise….,” he uttered after a quick examination. He now placed both of his palms on the older healer’s chest.

Glorfindel´s head snapped up. “Otherwise what….?” he demanded directing narrowed eyes at the healer.

Tinár, not for nothing the head healer of the Last Homely House, looked at the Balrog Slayer with a mixture of frightening calmness and sorrowful sympathy.

“Otherwise he will die. His whole body is shutting down, not to mention his mental stability. I do not know what is happening, but this has nothing to do with his usual visions or other mental attacks. Someone or something has pushed his inner perceptions beyond anything endurable.”

“You are right,” Elladan confirmed. “But we have already tried that. Not even we were able to break this spell.”

Glorfindel looked at Elrohir but the younger twin only pressed his lips into a thin line. He felt as helpless as his brother and that their father was slipping further and further away from them.

Glorfindel´s mind raced. He would not accept that the Elf-lord was being snatched from them by an evil power they had not even identified, and he would not yet accept a defeat.

“Then we will have to cut off the evil influence and then guide him back from the abyss,” the fair hair warrior suddenly proposed.

While Tinár looked uncomprehendingly at the warrior – he was a formidable healer, but not enhanced with mental power – Elladan narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, yes and how shall we do that?” he asked. “It’s not as if we had not tried that already!”

Glorfindel was not impressed by the accusing tone.

“Then we will have to intensify our efforts, young one,” he simply stated and sat again at the Elf-lord’s head.

As before he pillowed Elrond’s head in his lap and covered the Elf-lord’s temples with his hands.

Suddenly the area under the warrior’s hands begun to glow. Elladan and Tinár removed their hands simultaneously in surprise. Elladan narrowed his eyes and was just to open his mouth, when Tinár placed a hand on his shoulder.

Elladan looked bewildered at the healer but Tinár only shook his head. Elrohir stood immobile, his eyes never leaving his father’s body.

The glow spread from the head over the neck and down the torso until Elrond’s whole body was enveloped in the faint glimmering. The brothers had never seen anything like it even though the display resembled the action when their father channelled healing energy in a badly injured body.

At first nothing changed. Tinár lingered nearby ready to intervene should something unforeseeable happen. Glorfindel had his eyes closed and was chanting something the healer could not understand. Elrohir looked at his brother in surprise but Elladan was intently listening to the words.

It appeared to him that the ancient warrior was saying something in Quenya, yet the words were foreign to him and he supposed that it was a very old dialect.

One effect the three elves standing before the couch saw immediately. The Elf-lord had stopped thrashing and his body was no longer shivering. Elrohir hoped with all his heart that this was a good sign. He had absolute confidence in his mentor and knew that Glorfindel would never do anything that would harm his father.

After a while the glowing changed its hue. Suddenly it was no longer glittering golden but rather intensely blue. In fact the intensity was increasing until he had to turn his head away not to be blinded.

Elrohir looked at his brother but Elladan had simply closed his eyes a nearly relaxed expression on his face as if he knew what was happening. Elrohir could see that the blue light had spread over the whole room, plunging his father’s study into an amazing twilight.

And suddenly Elrohir knew where he had seen the light before. Chiding himself for his stupidity he carefully turned his head opening his eyes just a fraction to confirm his guess.

The blue light was coming from the Ring his father was wearing on his finger. His gaze wandered to Glorfindel´s face and he wondered if the Noldo had the ability to call to the Ring of Power.

As quickly as the display had started, it ended. The blue light grew fainter by the minute and even the golden glow vanished.

Elrohir started when Glorfindel suddenly spoke.

“Take your father to his chambers, he has to rest. And keep him warm. He is not to be left alone.”

This was no wish but a clear command. While Elrohir and Tinár instantly started to follow the orders, Elladan remained standing near the couch until the two other elves had taken his father away.

“What just happened?” he asked his tone carefully neutral. “I was not aware that you can release healing energy much less that you are able to call on Vilya.”

Glorfindel raised his head. The gaze he sent toward the youngster caused Elladan to stagger back.

“There are many things you do not understand, Elrondion. I have done all in my power to help your Adar and now you should look after him. The danger is not over yet.”

Elladan´s mien clearly displayed his displeasure with this answer, yet he felt clearly that Glorfindel had drawn a line he did well to heed. With a scowl on his face he turned and rushed out of the room, yet not without making a mental note. He would not let the subject drop this easily.

As soon as the door had closed Glorfindel collapsed back against the couch closing his eyes in utter exhaustion.

He would not have had any strength left to counter the young elf and was grateful that Elladan had withdrawn without confronting him further. He knew, however, that the youngster would not back down and he would have to think about an explanation.

For now he had drawn a protective ward around the Elf-lord’s mind and cut off the evil from being able to reach him. Still the healer had to be guided back from the abyss.

He was unable to form one more coherent thought. Closing his eyes, unconsciousness took him at once.

To be continued…………………………

Chapter 4:  much needed reassurance

Elrond´s POV

When I had killed the Uruk threatening Elrohir I sank to my knees utterly exhausted. If another enemy appeared in the next few moments I was not sure if I would have the strength to raise my sword again.

Elrohir was still sitting holding the dead child in his arms. I was not sure if he even realized how narrowly he had escaped death. But, I asked myself, what difference would it make in the end? Our haven was destroyed, most of the residents had been killed and I had failed to protect those who had placed their trust in my hands.

I could still hear the noises of fighting inside and outside the house. Before the day ended the population of Imladris would be no more. The miracle I had hoped for earlier had not come. Never had I imagined such a situation to be possible. Had I been too confident in our hiding place?

A bitter laugh escaped my throat. It was too late for such musings and too late for regret. However, I would NOT die cowering on the floor. If this was to be my last day then I would send as many foul beasts to the abyss as I could.

The sound of my laughter however startled Elrohir from his stupor. My son looked at me with tear-filled eyes. It seemed that only now he registered my presence.

His expression changed suddenly from depressed to curious. “Ada, what….?” he asked, but I heard his words through a mental haze.

My vision suddenly blurred and I felt a presence in my mind. Instinctively I tried to guard my senses and shut the invasion out, yet I was unsuccessful.

Surprised but also worried, I was unable to withstand the wave of demanding thoughts suddenly flooding my brain. The feelings coming my way seemed familiar but had a tinge of otherness that felt foreign. Never had I experienced anything like this.

I was too tired and desolated to resist. With a last attempt I gave up and sank into black oblivion….

……………………………………………………..

Elrohir looked up when the door to his father’s chambers opened and Glorfindel strode into the room. Tinár had just finished his examination. Even though all the bodily functions of his father had again reached normal levels the Elf-lord still remained unconscious. Nearly twelve hours had passed since Glorfindel had tried to call Elrond back. Apart from the fact that the Elf-lord appeared calmer, Elrohir could not sense any improvement.

“Give him time, Elrohir,” Glorfindel said and the younger elf looked at the warrior in surprise. Elladan, who was lounging on a settee near the bed, narrowed his eyes. He had still not learned exactly what Glorfindel had done the day before.

“Are you feeling well again, my Lord?” Tinár asked while packing the last of his items into his bag.

Now Elladan rose to his feet. “Why should Glorfindel not be feeling alright?” he asked the healer.

Tinár looked at the Elf-lord and after receiving a permissive nod he directed his gaze at the older twin.

“After…helping…your father Lord Glorfindel lost consciousness. He only awoke an hour ago. Now I am glad to have only one prominent patient again.”

The healer’s stumble had not gone unnoticed by the brothers. Elrohir wondered if Tinár was as clueless as they were about what Glorfindel had really done. Nonetheless he sent calming thoughts toward his brother.

Elladan was hard pressed to demand an explanation, but at the same time he was as shocked as Elrohir to learn that Glorfindel had fallen unconscious after trying to help their Adar.

“It would be nice if one could still get some information these days,” Elladan grumbled under his breath before he sat down on the edge of his father’s bed. Elrohir smiled realizing Elladan had accepted that he would get no information out of Glrofindel if the Elf-lord was unwilling to share it. He would tell them in his own time or never.

After Tinár had left Elrohir sighed and took Elladan’s place on the settee. The important thing was that Glorfindel had tried to help.

“Look, young one!” the warrior said suddenly.

Elrohir’s head jerked up at the comment and a moan came from the bed. Within seconds he was standing next to his brother. Glorfindel however stepped back, out of the Elf-lord’s range of sight. Elrohir frowned. Why would he move back?

He had no more time to ponder this thought because his father had finally opened his eyes. The reaction of the Elf-lord was much different from what they had expected.

Elrond’s eyes widened and with a sound between a sob and a silent cry he looked at Elladan. “You are alive?” he finally whispered.

The shock on Elladan’s face at his father’s words was highly visible. Glorfindel had his lips pressed into a thin line. Elrohir’s frown deepened. Why shouldn’t his brother be alive?

Elladan´s mind however was working quickly.

“Of course I’m alive, Ada,” he said while bending forward and hugging his father carefully. “And you are too!”

Pulling his arms around his son and hugging him tightly the Elf-lord took a deep breath. As Elladan drew back Elrond caressed his son’s cheek gently.

“I thought I had lost you,” he said with a thin voice that sent shivers down Elrohir´s spine.

“It is all is so confusing…why am I here?”

Elladan was at a loss. Irritated he looked over his shoulder at the warrior who was still standing out of sight.

Coming to a decision Glorfindel stepped forward until the healer could see him. As he had expected, Elrond jerked upright, his expression - incredulous.

“Glorfindel, what….?” he whispered squeezing his eyes closed. Glorfindel advanced to the bedside and motioned for the older twin to move aside. Stunned, Elladan complied without complaint.

The warrior sat down and took both of the healer’s hands into his.

“Elrond, listen to me.” He waited patiently until the healer had opened his eyes again.

“Elrond, nothing of what you experienced was true. We are still in Imladris and we are all alive. All is as it should be.”

Elrond looked at the warrior unbelievingly. What was he telling him? That all of the horrors he had seen over the last two days had not happened? But he could still smell the blood. He could still hear the screams of the dying and the cries for help.

As much as he wanted to accept Glorfindel’s words, he still too shocked to comprehend the words.

He closed his eyes and again felt a presence in his mind, enveloping his fea with a gentle light and leading his thoughts away from the horror. He leaned forward until he was enveloped in strong arms.

He willingly gave in to the subtle command to let go and sleep. Then he knew no more.

When Glorfindel felt the taut body leaning against him relax he carefully laid his friend back on the bed and covered him with the blanket.

After making sure that the Elf-lord’s sleep would not be disturbed he rose and motioned for the two young elves to follow him out of the room.

Too perplexed to argue Elladan and Elrohir followed the warrior, but not without sending a last look back at the now sleeping elf. They entered a small office adjoining their father’s bedroom. Barely inside, Elladan’s restraint snapped.

“Glorfindel, would you please be so kind and explain what is happening to Adar? My patience is running thin.”

“A virtue you have still to learn, Elrondion,” Glorfindel answered while taking a seat behind the great desk. However the initial scowl had vanished from his face, replaced by an unreadable mask. He motioned for the brothers to each take a seat.

Elrohir looked at his brother, silently advising him to comply or they would learn nothing. Still fuming Elladan finally took his seat.

After a while Glorfindel looked up and gazed sharply at the twins, making them both squirm. Again Elrohir was reminded why this elf was so different from all the others he had met in his life. The power of ages long past shone from the warrior’s eyes - eyes that could be kind and gentle but instantly change to threatening and demanding.

“What ailed your father was no vision, nor was it an attack of the usual kind. Rather, it was a powerful assault, the source of which we have yet to determine. The force which gained access to your father’s mind pushed his perceptions beyond anything imaginable. He experienced cruel and horrible things during the time he appeared unresponsive to us. Even if I could not perceive exactly what he was experiencing I could tell that it had reached and even exceeded his power of endurance. Maybe he will speak of it to you, or maybe not. It is enough for you to know that he was caught in this malice to a degree that he really thought it was true. Thus his awkward reaction when he saw the two of you or even me. I assume he saw us dead or something similar to that.”

When the warrior had ended the brothers frowned while digesting what they had heard. The enemy had opened a new field of battle and the attack level had now reached a new stage. And somehow the Balrog slayer had been able to repel the attack or at least guard their father’s mind against any further assaults.

Since the warrior did not elaborate further the brothers accepted the explanation knowing that they would never be able to force the ancient elf to give any explanation he was not willing to give.

“Fine,” Elladan declared after Glorfindel’s silence continued. “Then we are glad, my Lord, that you found a way to support our father’s struggle against the attack.”

Elrohir cringed at his brother’s anger but if he or Elladan were expecting Glorfindel to fall to the older twin’s provoking tone then they were disappointed.

“Always at the service to the line of Eärendil, penneths,” Glorfindel replied, his face still an expressionless mask.

Even though Elrohir was as angry at the dismissal as his brother, he stood and practically dragged Elladan from the room. Out in the corridor the older twin leaned against the wall balling his hand into fists.

“I hate it when he does this,” he groused while closing his eyes. Elrohir smiled and tugged at his brother’s arm.

“Come, we will learn everything eventually. Now let us look after Ada. I’m still worried about him.”

While following his brother Elladan nodded. They had known Glorfindel for their whole lives and still there were moments like this where the elf acted almost foreign and they glimpsed secrets he was unwilling to reveal.

……………………………………..

When Glorfindel entered the room he was pleased to see the healer was sitting in a comfortable chair at the open balcony door. However the far away look on the Elf-lord’s face revived his worry.

Three days had now passed since Elrond had regained consciousness but still the Half-elf had not returned to his former self much less taken up his duties. This was highly unusual behaviour for his friend.

Long had they talked, both with and without the Elf-lord’s sons present, but only walking through the house and the surrounding grounds had finally chased away the last doubts that it had all been only a bad dream.

Yet the Elf-lord was still shaken, partly over the still vivid memories and partly because he had been unable to repel such an invasion. In some way unknown to him, someone or something had found a way into his mind. That had shaken his confidence.

The healer raised his eyes when he heard someone approach and motioned for the warrior to take the other seat. Glorfindel inclined his head and complied with the invitation. They sat in companionable silence, both elves contemplating the happenings of the past days.

Glorfindel knew what was plaguing his Lord. Until now they had managed to hide the beautiful valley from unfriendly eyes and mask the knowledge that a refuge existed. Imladris was forgotten to the world through the unfailing dedication of the warriors led by the Balrog-slayer day-by-day partnered with the alert watchfulness of their Lord.

Now the enemy had shown them that their assumed safety was not as complete as they had thought. Of course there was nothing imminent truly threatening their existence but the attack had shown a new direction and that was disturbing.

“Maybe it was simply coincidence and I am worrying over nothing,” the healer suddenly said. Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. In fact he had come here to give some comfort but his friend’s words made his reassuring words vanish.

“In my long life I have learned that there is no such thing as coincidence. All happens with a purpose behind it even if we do not always discover it. One can surely never be too cautious. We will take this as seriously as any other threat to our valley and we will continue – what other option do we have anyway?” the warrior asked.

Elrond smiled thinly, silently thanking his friend for trying to comfort him. Yes, he would return to his normal routine but he would remain even more careful and alert then usual.

Glorfindel inclined his head again.

“As I said to your sons recently: It is always my pleasure to be at the service of the line of Eärendil.”

Now Elrond smiled openly and accepted Glorfindel’s outstretched hand to help him up to his feet. Yes, he counted himself lucky to have the support of this elf. Together the healer and the warrior left the room. Their people awaited them.

End.