To lose hope, is to give up

Chapter 2: Nightmare

Elrond slipped into his bedchamber, silently closing the door so that he would not disturb his already sleeping wife.  He had looked after Arahel until he was sure that the boy slept peacefully. Once his foot was set immobile, the boy’s pain had lessened to a mere throbbing, making it difficult for Elrond to keep him from moving.

Elrond sighed when he saw the small space left for him.  His sons were sprawled in the middle of the large and yet always too small bed.  He squeezed himself next to rumpled sheets, entangled limbs and the icy cold little feet that always managed to find a way to his back.  Content nonetheless, he smiled. For no price in the world would he miss this. A happy family was all he had ever dreamt of.

He closed his eyes and was asleep almost instantly, only to be woken, it seemed to him, a few moments later by a none too gentle shake and a sharp voice.  “Elrond, wake quickly!” the voice urged.

The Elf-Lord blinked to push the sleepiness from his mind and looked into the concerned face of Glorfindel.  He bolted upright, knowing instantly that something was terribly amiss otherwise Glorfindel would never disturb him so roughly and only now did he realize that the room was filled with smoke, burning in his eyes and lungs.

“Fire!” Glorfindel said urgently as he roused Celebrían and the twins.

Now Elrond was wide awake.  The house was on fire!  His mind raced. What had caused it?  Had all the other inhabitants awoken in time to rescue themselves?  He looked at Glorfindel but knew instantly that now was not the time for questions. Glorfindel had also been caught off guard, judging by the bedraggled state he was in.  

Elrond leapt out of bed. He quickly put on his leggings after removing his night clothes and turned to receive a sleepy elfling from Glorfindel, who was already reaching for the other twin and starting for the door.

Glorfindel opened the door slightly and then quickly stepped back as a thick cloud of smoke and a wave of heat found its way around the small crack.  Elladan shrieked in fear and grabbed Glorfindel, wrapping his little arms so tight around his neck that he nearly choked the golden-haired elf.

Sensing the distress of his brother, Elrohir started crying and coughing in his father’s arms as Elrond tugged a blanket he managed to grab over his son’s head to filter the air somewhat.   Stroking the elfling´s back gently, he murmured soothing words into the little ear.  A pleading look from Celebrían  reminded him that they had to leave quickly.  In just a few minutes more they would no longer be able to breathe.

Meanwhile, Glorfindel had stepped into the corridor, shielding the other elfling’s face with the big sleeve of his robe. Elrond grabbed his wife’s hand to follow Glorfindel into the corridor.  He gasped when he saw their only escape route filled with thick, black smoke, the air shimmering with heat.

Hugging his son closer and holding Celebrían in a tight grip, he stumbled after the swaying figure of Glorfindel, confident that his long time friend would find his way out.  Elrohir trembled with fear in his arms, but Elrond could not soothe him, for every breath caused him to cough.  Blocking his own nose and mouth as well as he could, he pressed the head of his son close against his bare chest.  Celebrían stumbled behind him, nearly crushing his hand in her desperate attempt not to lose him.

For a brief moment, Elrond felt grateful that no guests dwelt in the Last Homely House at this time of year. Yet his concern for its many inhabitants mounted as he ran through the corridor.  Sometimes he sensed someone nearby, or heard a shout, but he was never able to see further than a few steps in front of him. 

The corridor seemed endless and Elrond shivered despite the heat.  His eyes watered so much from the acrid smoke that he blindly made his way forward. As a healer, he knew that they must leave this poisoned air quickly lest the intake of smoke do extreme damage.

He couldn’t see Glorfindel any longer, but he knew that the warrior couldn’t be far ahead.  Suddenly he heard a loud crack and seconds later, pieces of the ceiling came crashing down only inches away from him. He crumbled to the floor, shielding his son from the debris raining down with his body.  A piece of burning wood fell onto his shoulder, instantly setting the fabric of his robe on fire. He rolled onto his side to quench the flames and bit back a cry of pain as the injured shoulder was jarred. For a second he lay there regaining his wits.

“Ada!”  Elrohir’s piercing cry brought him back to his senses.  He rose to his knees and looked around in terror to find his child in the thick haze.  The sobbing child was sitting on the floor surrounded by glowing debris, his eyes wide with fear.

On his hands and knees he scrambled to his son and enveloped him in his embrace.  “Shh, don’t cry, Elrohir. Are you hurt?”

The boy shook his head and Elrond lifted him off the hot floor, already searching for his wife.  “Celebrían!” he shouted.

“I’m here,” a coughing voice responded and he nearly sobbed with relief, turning to enfold his wife in his arms as well. She spoke in a raspy voice and he could hear her worry: “Are you alright? I heard you cry out!”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine,” he reassured as he grabbed her hand, this time determined not to lose contact.

Huddled close together, the three resumed their way. For a short moment Elrond thought of Glorfindel. Had hid friend made it out safely? Was his other son safe? Then he banned these dark thoughts quickly from his mind. He trusted his long time friend completely. Glorfindel would protect his son with his life if necessary.

Sometimes Elrond looked up in a vain attempt to see how far the fire had spread.  Here in the left wing, the private quarters, the kitchen and guestrooms were located. Unfortunately, that meant most of the inhabitants dwelt here at this time. 

Knowing his house by heart, he recognized that it couldn’t be far to the main entrance. He looked at the tear streaked and dirt smeared face of his wife with concern as she succumbed to another coughing fit. Equally fighting for every breath, he quickened his pace. The elfling in his arms had stopped sobbing, only looking blankly ahead, overcome with the shock. His laboured breathing chilled the Elf-Lord to the bone. 

As yet unable to ease the son in his arms, and with a prayer for Glorfindel and Elladan, he summoned all his remaining strength in the attempt to rescue his family.

After what seemed an eternity, he heard the front door open and, following the sound, he stumbled outside, desperate to take a deep breath. 

Followed closely by Celebrían, he stumbled down the steps in front of the house and sank to his knees.  For a few moments, he simply knelt on the ground hugging his child close and holding his wife’s hand tightly, and as he regained his breath, he shuddered as the chill morning air crawled over his body. He looked down at Elrohir and planted a kiss on his son’s hot forehead, and the exhausted elfling closed his eyes. With his other hand, he drew Celebrían’s  head to his chest.

So they sat there, the chaos surrounding them momentarily forgotten.  Then he opened his eyes and blinked to ban the tears from them.  They had made it out, but where were Elladan and Glorfindel?

To be continued…………………