Brother, where art thou?

Author’s note:

Many thanks to Erulisse and to Selene Aduial for beta reading this story for me. 

Chapter 9:

Long Ways

While crossing the seemingly never-ending forest Glorfindel looked worriedly again and again toward the wagon. On the uneven terrain of the forest floor the cart jolted up and down and sometimes the elf acting as driver was hard pressed to hold both the horses and the wagon in line.

He quickly banished the thoughts of what these rough movements would do to an injured person from his mind. He doubted that the journey back in a wagon was such a good idea, but he wasn’t a person that lingered long on a decision once made. Now he must make the best of it.

They carefully picked their way through the undergrowth and along a narrow path in the rocky terrain. Glorfindel urged greater haste, but soon decided that there was no sense to hurrying if he wanted the wagon to arrive in one piece.

On the second day Glorfindel was grateful that he was accompanied by ten warriors, as a band of wargs decided that the elves of this procession were a welcome variation to their usual menu. The big beasts surrounded the wagon and attacked at once. They had seemingly come out of nowhere and the elves had no choice but to defend themselves. If they wanted to proceed on this road, that the wargs had apparently chosen to occupy, they would have to kill them. To outrun them with their load would be futile.

As soon as he spotted them, Glorfindel dismounted and quickly grabbed the reins of the two wagon horses preventing them from bolting and destroying the wagon in their panic. While holding the reins with one hand, he thrust his sword into the belly of a jumping warg, all too eager to attack the frightened horses.

The archers among the ten warriors had also quickly dismounted their horses and crouched in their defending positions. With a practiced routine born from long experience they quickly reduced their attackers until the last remaining warg vanished howling into the forest.

The fight was short but fierce and Glorfindel was grateful that no serious injuries occurred. He ordered a brief rest while he made sure that there were no serious wounds and that any minor injuries were cared for. As quickly as possible the procession resumed its way, reaching it’s’ goal at dawn of the next day without any further incident.

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Elrond jerked from his slumber beside his son’s bed. With a groan he briefly stretched his cramped back muscles and tried to determine what had woken him. With a quick look at the older twin and confirming that his son was still asleep he rose and walked toward the door, sure that the noise disturbing him had come from outside. With a fleeting thought he recognized that he could locate neither Maren nor Isiwen inside the house.

Stepping over the threshold and closing the door silently, he sighed with relief when he noticed a great wagon nearing the house flanked by ten Imladris warriors with Glorfindel riding in front.

He patiently waited until the procession had reached the little fenced in space in front of the house and stepped forward to greet the golden-haired elf. His smile however died on his face when he took in the battered state of his friend. He could see torn clothes, dried blood on tunics and pants and bandages visible under rolled up sleeves and trousers. He looked closely at the warriors and saw that the other elves didn’t look any better.

The dark-haired Elf-Lord quickly crossed the front yard towards where Glorfindel had stopped and was about to dismount. Instantly Elrond saw the fine lines of pain in the fair face and his concern rose. “What happened?” he asked worriedly, ready to lend a helping hand.

Seeing that he could not get away without an answer Glorfindel sighed. “We had an encounter with a pack of very hungry wargs. Don’t worry Elrond, there are no bad injuries, my men are only tired and already taken care of.”

Knowing that this statement would not placate the healer, Elrond´s next words confirmed just that.

“This I will decide”, the Elf-Lord said sternly and took a look around. “I will see every one of you during the next hour, have I made myself clear?” He received ten reluctant nods.

“Glorfindel?” Elrond inquired.

“Yes, yes,” the golden haired Elf-Lord murmured. “As if we do not have other, more important things to do.”

“I heard that,” Elrond retorted smiling and shoved his friend gently toward the house.

After seeing to the warriors’ wounds, providing them with nourishment, and seeing that they would rest, Elrond and Glorfindel debated the best way of proceeding. Elladan´s state was stable, but he was far from being in a condition that let Elrond relax.

Isiwen and Maren had arrived from their work in the little field behind the house. Offering suggestions and providing the two Elf-Lords with a map of the surroundings they again did their best to be of any help.

Elrond wanted to leave as quickly as possible, after granting Glorfindel and his warriors the proper rest they would need for the journey home.

Elrond once again looked after Elladan´s wounds, having stopped wondering why they refused to heal properly long ago, especially now after Glorfindel´s brief report about Elrohir´s equally bad state. He was not really surprised, yet greatly worried that Elrohir had so completely cut the connection with the outer world. The brothers were tormenting themselves in thinking each other lost and seeing no reason to go on alone.

The twins always gathered great amounts of strength from each other. Because of that it was even more dangerous when one of them was badly wounded. The other one was also dragged into the abyss and no-one could stop this.

Elladan awoke at his father’s ministrations and Elrond was shaken again, when he saw his son’s dull eyes and sensed his removed spirit. He was not quite coherent when he looked with pained eyes at his father.

Elrond laid a gentle hand on the hot forehead and again poured healing energy into the weak body. “We will leave shortly, my son, and soon you will be reunited with your brother. He is waiting for you.” Elladan closed his eyes, whether due to pain or relief Elrond could not tell. *Please let my words be true,* Elrond murmured, praying to every Valar listening.

…………………………………..

When the next morning dawned all was prepared. Elladan had been transferred from the house to the wagon and settled there as comfortably as possible. Elrond had made him drink a strong sedative to ease his pain and endure the journey. The Elf-Lords had gathered their belongings and the guards stood ready to leave.

Despite the need for haste, Elrond and Glorfindel took their time to say farewell to Isiwen and Maren.

A plan had long settled in Elrond´s mind, how he could reward all that had been given. Isiwen and Maren had helped without thought and without expecting anything in return. This behaviour was rare in these times and all the more welcome when it transpired. Elladan would not have survived, had the human couple not taken care of him, and this Elrond knew very well.

In the fashion of men, Elrond stretched out his hand and took Maren´s in his.

“I’m deeply in your debt and I want to thank you with all my heart. I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble.”

Blushing slightly and feeling uncomfortable Maren shook his head. “I have said it before. It was an honour for us to be able to help. I only hope that your sons will recover.”

Elrond inclined his head and turned toward Isiwen. The slender woman came forth and embraced the Elf-Lord. “I wish you a safe journey home and please let us know how your sons fare.”

Elrond returned the embrace and nodded. “I will. Thank you.”

While Glorfindel also expressed his gratitude, the dark-haired Elf lord turned, mounted the cart and sat beside his sleeping son on the wagon bed.

After sitting himself on the wagon seat and with a last look back, Glorfindel took up the reins and guided the wagon onto the small path, flanked left and right by the warriors. Maren and Isiwen waved until the elves had vanished from view.

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Thinking back later Elrond thought that this journey back home was his longest of his life. It was very different from what he had expected; Elladan didn’t utter any sounds and only moved a bit due to the harsh treatment his body was forced to endure by the rough movements of the wagon.

Many times the Elf-Lord was forced to make sure that his son was still alive because it was difficult to judge by just looking at the still body beside him. The longer the journey stretched out, the more he began to lose the hope that they would arrive in time. Glorfindel did his best to guide the wagon smoothly over the rough terrain, but he was unable to change the surface of the land.

Elrond reached out to connect to his son’s fea and tried to strengthen his weak connection to the world.

Simultaneously he reached out toward Elrohir. He was frightened beyond measure when he was unable to connect to the bond of his youngest, but calmed his nerves quickly so as to not upset Elladan any further.

But what triumph would it be to save Elladan´s life if he was unable to arrive home in time to save Elrohir´s life as well? The victory over death would be a defeat, because Elladan would follow his brother to the halls of Mandos.

After many hours Elrond called for a halt, when he saw the tiredness in the faces around him. No-one had even uttered a word and so he must be the one to demand a break.

Without complaint Glorfindel stopped and the warriors quickly established a small camp.

Glorfindel freed the wagon horses to graze freely and gather their strength. He looked anxiously ahead, dreading what awaited them the next day. The rocky terrain was a perfect place for an ambush or an attack and they wouldn’t be able to outrun their enemy. Furthermore, the navigating would not become any easier the nearer they came to Rivendell.

The valley lay sheltered in a deep ravine and even travelling on foot or horseback was difficult, but with a wagon, that should not jostle too much, it would be a sheer, almost impossible task.

Glorfindel shook his head. He would deal with these problems when they presented themselves.

The golden-haired Elf-Lord walked over to the wagon and was surprised to see Elrond speaking softly with Elladan.

Glorfindel looked over the railing and looked into the younger elf’s eyes. “How do you feel, young one?” he asked.

Elladan tried a smile but failed. “I’m fine,” he whispered, “but your driving is terrible.” Glorfindel smiled back without comment, clearly seeing the fatigue in the older twin’s eyes.

Elladan was not up to his usual bantering. Glorfindel knew exactly how the jostling of the wagon strained the younger elf’s strength.

Elrond tightened the blanked snugly around his son’s shoulders and leaped from the wagon stretching his sore muscles. “I will be back shortly,” he promised Elladan and walked toward the fire that had been started by one of the guards in the meantime. He gratefully accepted a cup of steaming hot tea one of the warriors offered him.

Elrond looked, concerned, at his friend. “Rest a bit, you look tired,” he said.

“As do you,” Glorfindel murmured, flexing his sore shoulder muscles, but he stopped fearing that his arms would fall off any minute.

“Yes,“ Elrond smiled, “but I do not need to navigate two edgy beasts over this terrain. Please Glorfindel. It will help no-one when you fall from the wagon. We have still three days to overcome and I expect an attack any moment we are not alert.”

Nodding without another word and knowing that it was fruitless to argue with his friend, Glorfindel stretched out on his bedroll beside the fire and was asleep almost instantly.

The warriors distributed the duty of watch among them and rested too.

Elrond returned to the wagon and lay beside his son on the platform. Elladan snuggled close, seeking warmth, and the Elf-Lord smiled when he remembered the last time his sons had done that.

The night was uneventful for which Elrond was very grateful. In the morning he rebound Elladan´s wounds and was astounded to see that the marks didn’t look so ugly anymore. New hope pulsed through him, but was quickly dampened when he looked at Elladan´s closed eyes.

How must Elrohir feel right now? *Hold on, young ones*, he pleaded, *only a little longer*.

When he rose and looked at the camp, he was surprised to see that all was ready to continue.

Glorfindel sat at the head of the wagon and smiled at him. “Ready to go on?” he asked. Elrond snorted. “You should have woken me.”

Glorfindel´s face turned serious again. “The sleep was good for you both. I fear we will need our strength today. We have travelled undisturbed for too long.”

Elrond nodded. “I fear you are right. Let us be on our way then.”

To be continued………………………