Brother, where art thou?

Author’s note:

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

Chapter 10:

More troubles

Elrond was slowly lulled into a light slumber by the motion of the wagon. Even though he was determined to stay awake; he was weary to the bone from caring day and night for his son and the worry that constantly gnawed at his heart.

He sat with his back leaning against the wooden balustrade on the front side of the wagon, with his son’s head resting in his lap. He stroked the black tresses gently and hummed a soft melody to calm his troubled mind. The two warriors riding left and right of the wagon smiled at each other, as the Elf-Lord’s eyes drifted shut, trusting the surrounding guards to protect them.

Yet, seemingly minutes later, he jerked up, when he heard a shout of warning from Glorfindel, still guiding the wagon. He carefully rose to his knees, trying not to disturb his fortunately still sleeping child. A second later the first arrow imbedded itself only inches from the Elf-Lord´s hand on the wagon railing.

“Keep down,” Glorfindel shouted with a quick look behind him, as he urged the horses to greater speed. Elrond ducked protectively over Elladan´s body as another projectile flew only inches above his head. Peering just an inch over the wagon railing into the dense forest he saw a large band of orcs closing fast.

“We cannot outrun them,” he shouted back, trying to overcome the noise the wagon and the horse hooves produced accompanied by the howling of the orcs.

“I know,” Glorfindel answered with a grim expression on his face. His posture was taut with the exertion needed to hold the horses and wagon in line but he kept urging the horses forward.

As Elrond had feared, the jostling of the wagon intensified, throwing the two occupants on the platform from one corner to the other. Elladan moaned and clawed his hands instinctively into his father’s robes. Elrond tried to stabilize the frantic tossing of his son´s body, without much success.

He gasped as an orc managed to jump onto the wagon raising his scimitar. Without thinking, the Elf-Lord kicked out with his boots with full force sending the orc flying backwards from the wagon bed.

When the wagon rumbled over a large rock on the ground the Elf-Lord was nearly thrown from the wagon as well. Seeing this, Glorfindel brought the horses to an abrupt stop, causing Elrond to lose his balance a second time.

“Thank you, very much,” he growled, yet his words were drowned by the battle noises coming from all around the wagon. Glorfindel grimaced briefly knowing that the dark-haired elf had not really chided him. With his sword already drawn the golden warrior sprung from the cart. After tethering the frightened horses to a sturdy tree trunk he rushed away to help his men holding the orcs at bay.

“Don’t move and stay down,” Elrond whispered into the older twin’s ear, as Elladan looked at him questioningly. “I can help,” Elladan answered shaking his head.

“No, you can´t,” Elrond retorted and tossed a blanket over his son’s body to hide him.

He rose and was about to leave the relative shelter of the wagon, when he felt a hot pain suddenly spreading from his right shoulder. However, before he had time to fully comprehend what had happened, an orc jumped at him and together they tumbled from the wagon.

Elrond cried out in pain as the arrow protruding from his shoulder, was snapped by his rather hard landing on the ground with the orc on top of him. His vision blurred momentarily, and he knew this would be his end if he didn’t manage to get rid of the foul creature looking down at him with dark cold eyes.

Gathering all his strength, Elrond managed to free his hand and pulled a small knife out of his belt. He thrust it into the belly of the orc with such speed it left the orc no time to react. He grit his teeth, rolling onto his stomach and shoving the dead orc from his body. He froze when he regarded the battle scene before him.

The warriors and Glorfindel were hard pressed by the large group of orcs, trying to keep the foul creatures away from the wagon. The fighting skills of orcs never matched the abilities of the elves, but their advantage was always their greater numbers.

Elrond had managed to grow accustomed to the pain in his shoulder and was about to rise again, when he heard a cry from the wagon. His blood ran cold when he realized that the cry had come from Elladan. The pain was forgotten while he scrambled to his feet, pulled out his sword and jumped back onto the wagon.

He gasped when he saw an orc hovering over Elladan with a knife held high in his hand, ready to strike any second for a fatal blow. With an enraged cry he threw his sword, full knowing that he had no time to cross the distance before the orc would kill his son.

With a dull thud, the sword imbedded itself in the foul creature’s back, slicing through him and coming out through the orc’s chest. Unable to end his task, the orc grunted and fell on top of the older twin’s body, splattering him with his blood.

Elrond quickly slithered over the wagon platform still in motion from the nervously prancing horses, knelt by his son’s side and heaved the dead body of the orc from Elladan´s prone form. With quick moving hands, he searched Elladan´s body for injuries, but the young elf grasped his wrists and stopped his frantic movements.

“I’m fine, Ada. I’m not injured,” he whispered, closing his eyes in exhaustion. His father mustn’t know that his legs ached and his back burned from the harsh treatment the jostling of the speeding wagon had caused. At least not yet…he would find out soon enough anyway.

Not trusting his voice, Elrond only nodded and planted a kiss on his son’s forehead. When he rose to his knees again, the sudden silence hit him like another blow. Bewildered he looked around and sighed, relieved, when he saw that the elves had managed to kill or drive away the attacking orcs.

Ready to take a deep breath, his smile froze when he noticed two warriors kneeling on the ground surrounding a fallen body. Without seeing the one lying on the ground he instantly had a bad feeling in his gut about who was lying there unmoving.

Looking back at Elladan, he scrambled to his feet. “I will be back shortly.” Jumping down from the wagon again, he gasped when his shoulder protested against the harsh treatment. Clenching his teeth together, he ran toward the group, standing around Glorfindel.

The two warriors kneeling beside their captain looked up with mixed expressions of worry and relief on their faces. Elrond knelt by his friend’s side and gasped, seeing the large gash running down the left side of his head, bleeding heavily.

After a quick examination, Elrond quickly tore a strip of cloth from Glorfindel´s cloak and pressed it firmly over the bleeding wound. After many long minutes the blood flow lessened and the Elf-Lord was able to inspect the injury more closely. The wound needed stitching and Glorfindel would have an enormous headache when he woke. Fortunately the bone beneath was not broken, yet head wounds were never to be taken lightly, regardless of how harmless they looked.

Elrond nodded grateful, as one of the warriors held out more strips of cloth to him so that he could bind the wound temporarily until they reached Rivendell.

When he was finished he looked up into many worried faces and guessed the questions barely held back. “This must do, until we arrive home. We will transport him in the wagon but we should resume our way without further delay.”

Taking a deep breath, one of the warriors stepped forward and laid a hand lightly on the Elf-Lord’s arm. “You are injured too, my Lord. I will treat your injury first.”

Having forgotten his own wound but feeling it more intensely now that the adrenalin boost had lessened a bit, Elrond shook his head. “No time for this. The arrow is too deeply embedded and must be cut out. Therefore it is better that it remains where it is and stops the bleeding.” Not really satisfied with this answer, because he was quite able to remove an arrow, yet knowing that the healer´s knowledge surpassed his beyond measure, the guard nodded.

After this was settled, two warriors lifted Glorfindel´s body carefully up and laid him next to Elladan in the wagon. The younger elf’s eyes grew wide, when he realized who had joined him in this miserable position.

Knowing this was not the time to ask, he closed his mouth and moved closer to his mentor to keep him warm. Elrond supplied them with an extra blanket and only now, Elladan noticed that his father was cradling his right arm awkwardly against his body and saw the red stain beneath the cloak.

“Ada,” he gasped, “you are injured.” Before he could say more, Elrond raised his hand. “It’s not that bad. We must depart from here before more orcs arrive.”

Equally not satisfied with this answer, Elladan had the same insight as the guard before and said nothing more. Despite the disapproving looks from the warriors, Elrond scrambled onto the wagon box and took up the reins.

Just when he was about to give the signal to move on, they heard someone approach. Elrond closed his eyes momentarily, while the warriors again raised their swords and bows. Don’t let it be orcs, or something worse, he pleaded silently. In their battered state they were hard put to give any resistance.

When he opened his eyes again and listened more closely, he clearly recognized the light clatter of hooves only produced by elven horses. He looked around and saw the guards relax also as they too realized it was an elf approaching. When the Elf-Lord looked forward again, he saw a dark-haired and well known, tall elf riding straight for him, followed by a large group of warriors.

“Erestor, you are most welcome. Your timing could not be better,” Elrond greeted his advisor.

Relief clearly visible on his face, Erestor held up a hand, stopped his mount and took a look around. With one glance, he recognized the desperate and desolate state of the small group and the worry on his face intensified, when he saw the two still figures on the wagon and the hunched form of his Lord on the box along with the dead orcs.

While the fresh warriors were greeted warmly by their comrades, Erestor dismounted and joined Elrond on the wagon. “What happened?” he asked while casting an anxious look at the still forms of Glorfindel and Elladan. Taking the reins from Elrond’s hands he scowled. “And, give me these.”

Elrond complied without words. He had been unsure about whether he would have been able to navigate the wagon properly in his current state.

“We were attacked by a large group of orcs and Glorfindel was wounded from a blow to his head,” Elrond explained, grateful that he could now share the burden of responsibility of bringing the two wounded home safely with Erestor. He felt suddenly sleepy and dizzy. The blood loss and pain had affected him more than he was willing to admit.

Seeing the weariness in his Lord´s features both from being wounded and from the constant care and worry over his sons Erestor only nodded. “And you have found Elladan,” he said with a look over his shoulder at the younger elf. “He was right then,” he murmured.

Elrond´s head jerked up at the murmured words and he looked confused at his councillor. “Who was right?” he asked frowning.

After quickly surveying the scene Erestor redirected his gaze at Elrond. “A few hours ago, Elrohir awoke briefly and kept calling his brother’s name. It was impossible to calm him. Then suddenly, he went limp, and was as lifeless as before. So I guessed that you must be near Rivendell and possibly in some trouble.”

“You guessed right, my friend,” Elrond repeated and squeezed the arm of the dark-haired elf sitting next to him gratefully. “Let us move on then.”

“That we will do,” Erestor answered. “But not before I have treated that wound of yours.” Elrond sighed knowing that he could no so easily avoid Erestor. Nonetheless he tried.

“As I have explained before, we have no time for this. Therefore we must leave and get these two to proper care,” he said inclining his head toward the two occupants on the wagon.

“Very well,” Erestor answered raising an annoyed eyebrow at the healer´s statement that he would not be able to treat an arrow wound, yet agreeing silently with the Elf-Lord that they should leave quickly. “But, at least let me bind your arm so it is immobilized and you can do no further harm to yourself.”

After a brief hesitation, Elrond nodded, knowing that Erestor could be as stubborn as he was. He also felt that this was the best way to save precious time.

After Erestor had finished, Elrond sat in the back of wagon, between Glorfindel and Elladan. Erestor guided the wagon toward home, finally, followed by the large group of warriors.

Soon Elrond was lulled into a deep exhausted sleep and Erestor urged the horses to greater speed, determined to reach Rivendell before nightfall with the hope of not gathering another patient on the wagon behind him.

When Elrond awoke he struggled to open his eyes. Why had he closed them in the first place? He felt comfortable, but why was his mind so dizzy and why was his vision partly blurred? He shook his head and tried to gather his shattered thoughts. What had happened?

Suddenly he bolted upright when his mind slowly revealed some memories to him. Instantly he regretted his rash movement, when a hot pain flared through his bound shoulder.

“Easy, Elrond,” Erestor said, now appearing in his line of vision. “You have only slept a few hours.”

Elrond looked at Erestor confused, still not in full grasp of his memories. “We are at home? How are the twins? How fares Glorfindel and why do I know nothing of all these things?”

Erestor gently pushed the Elf-Lord back on his pillow and smiled. He knew exactly, why Elrond felt so irritated. He had fallen unconscious during the last stage of their journey. Because of that he did not know what had happened when they had finally arrived home.

“Elrond, calm down. We are back in Rivendell, Glorfindel is doing fine, considering the circumstances and the twins are reunited. Elrohir shows no sign of waking yet and Elladan is unconscious too, but I think, even if it is only a feeling, that Elrohir has recognized his brother’s presence.”

Elrond sank back and sighed. The news could be worse, yet the lasting unresponsiveness of his sons worried him greatly. “Has Glorfindel awakened?” he asked, watching his advisor closely.

Aware of the scrutinising look Erestor smiled again, fully knowing that he could not hide the truth from the Elf-Lord. “Yes, he has, but only briefly. He looked tired and a bit disorientated, but now he is resting.”  

Elrond frowned. “No wonder, with this kind of head injury. He must be watched closely.”

“We will do so,” Erestor promised, slowly getting irritated over his Lord´s refusal to rest again.

“I cannot lie here idly. I must look after the twins,” Elrond stated, trying to struggle into a sitting position.

Now the end of Erestor´s patience was reached and he held up a hand. “Elrond, please. You are barely able to stand. You are not able to help your sons right now, and you need your strength for yourself. I don’t think that they are in immediate danger. They can surely wait a few hours more, until you have regained a bit of your strength. Elrond, listen to me. Should something change, I will fetch you, I promise.”

Hearing the slightly irritated under-tone in Erestor´s voice the Elf-Lord complied without further complaint and closed his eyes. “You are right my friend, as always. I’m only so frightened to lose them, now that I have found hope again.”

“I know,” Erestor whispered. “I will watch over them.”

……………………..

When Elrond awoke the next time, he felt much better. He didn’t feel dizzy anymore and the pain in his shoulder had subsided to a dull ache. Nonetheless he closed his eyes and opened his senses to the outside world.

As he extended his mental fingers toward the bond that connected him with his sons, he gasped. Elladan´s connection was very weak and he couldn’t sense Elrohir´s at all. He jerked upright, knowing that he must act quickly. He drew the covers back and stood up.

He grabbed the nearby nightstand to steady himself, as the floor swayed dangerously. Angry over the betrayal of his body, he put on his tunic and walked with stubbornly pressed lips toward the door.

When he had almost reached his goal, the door opened and revealed a concerned looking Glorfindel. The golden-haired elf quickly crossed the distance and grabbed his friend´s arm, before the Elf-Lord managed to fall. “Do not stop me,” the Elrond said between gritted teeth. “Something is wrong with the twins and I must see after them.”

Glorfindel nodded. “Calm down, my friend. I’m not here to stop you in fact I’m here to fetch you. I think you are right. Something is wrong.” Elrond looked up relieved that the golden warrior would not stop him, and then fear crossed over his face when Glorfindel confirmed his worries.

Accepting Glorfindel´s arm to steady his slightly swaying step, the two elves hurried down the long corridor toward the room the twins shared. Glorfindel quickly opened the door, while Elrond squeezed past him.

The dark-haired Elf-Lord stopped dead in his tracks at the sight that greeted him. His sons lay side by side, facing each other on the large bed. The identical bodies lay there completely still and their faces were deadly pale. Nothing indicated that they even lived.

After the first shock had passed, Elrond rushed forward, sat on the edge of the mattress and placed a hand on each forehead. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing mind. Again he tried to connect to his sons’ fea and was again barely able to. Calming his much too fast beating heart and swallowing the anguish that rose in his throat, he inhaled deeply and poured as much healing energy, as he could provide into the weak bodies.

He blocked out the outer world and concentrated only on this task, there was nothing more important at that moment. He knew that he would endanger himself, but he didn’t care. If he was unable to bring his sons back from the brink of death, then his life would hold no meaning for him anymore.

Glorfindel silently closed the door they had forgotten in their haste and walked soundlessly to a nearby chair, not to disturb the Elf-Lord, but ready to support his friend should the need arise. He knew that this could only end with a collapse. Elrond was not hale enough to expend so much healing energy; his own body still required much for his own recovery. But Glorfindel knew that the healer would overstep all limits where the fate of his sons was concerned.

The fair-haired elf shuddered. If Elrond was not successful in calling the young ones back, then he would lose three elves this night and all off them were very dear to him.

To be continued…………………….