Disclaimer:

see chapter 1.

Chapter 3:  hope destroyed

Half an hour had passed since Glorfindel had delivered the dark haired Elf-Lord into the hands of the healers. No sooner had he laid the wounded elf on the examination table than Tinár had taken over. He had politely asked the Troop Commander to leave the room, using the necessary force in his voice making it plain that he would allow no argument. 

Knowing that he could be of no help anyway, and that he would only hinder the efforts of the healers to rescue Elrond’s life, Glorfindel left, albeit reluctantly. He cast a last look back at the ashen face of his friend, a vision that would never leave his memory regardless of whether the elf would live or die.

Now he sat in the small antechamber of the healing ward covered with the blood of his best friend, his burning eyes directed at the closed door willing the healers to come out and tell him how the Elf-lord fared.

A few minutes before, Lindir had entered and asked about any news, but the blank look from the Troop Commander was enough answer for the minstrel, who quickly left again. Glorfindel was glad that no one else had entered the room after that. He had not the heart to console someone. He could hardly cling to hope himself.

However the longer he sat there staring at his bloodied hands, the more his anguish increased. Was it a good sign that the healers needed so much time or had they lost the fight?

Breathing deeply he knew that he had to calm down. His agitation helped no one, least of all himself. His thoughts were interrupted however by the sound of hoof beats clattering on the cobblestones of the courtyard. Without even seeing who was arriving Glorfindel knew it. He closed his eyes.

This could only be Elrond’s twin sons. His assumption was confirmed a minute later when hurried footsteps could be heard running down the long corridor toward the healing ward. Some one must have already told them what had happened to their father.

Sighing and knowing what was rushing toward him, the golden warrior rose and positioned himself between the entrance door and the surgery door. He straightened his shoulders and braced himself for the agitated youths.

No sooner had he masked his features when the door to the waiting room banged open and Elladan hurried inside, followed by his brother.

Looking frantically around the older twin showed no indication of realizing the blond warrior was standing there and started directly toward the closed surgery door intent on rounding whatever obstacle standing in his way. Elrohir was following right behind him.

Glorfindel quickly took another step into the young elf’s path blocking his way to the door efficiently. As if only now recognizing the warrior standing there, the twins stopped as one and Elladan directed an angry and irritated look at his mentor. “Move aside, Glorfindel!”

Glorfindel did not react outwardly to the openly aggressive tone, knowing all too well the emotions now raging in the young ones who had no knowledge of whether or not their father still lived. Their behaviour was only borne out of the desperation they felt. Meeting the other’s gaze unflinchingly, Glorfindel waited until the emotional storm had abated a bit, yet he did not move aside. Elladan would not push him aside, or so he hoped.

Raising a hand and laying it on the older twin’s shoulder Glorfindel looked quickly at Elrohir still standing a hair’s breath behind his brother. The younger twin however had lowered his eyes, as usual, waiting until the actions of his brother would enable him to act accordingly.

After another few seconds Elladan also lowered his gaze and asked with a chocked voice. “Glorfindel, what happened? How is Ada? You must let us pass to see him!”

Glorfindel fought with his own composure when he saw the anguish in the eyes of the twins now searching his gaze. Restraining his urge to simply draw them into his embrace and tell them that all would be well, as he had done when they were much younger, he only tightened his hold on the older twin’s shoulder while noticing that Elrohir had grasped his brother’s lower arm for comfort.

When the blond warrior did not answer immediately, Elrohir took a deep breath. “Lindir said someone attacked Ada and hurt him quite badly,” he asked for confirmation of this statement and at the same time feared the affirmative.

Glorfindel took a deep breath, as the picture of the bloody body lying on the floor resurfaced in his mind. He was glad that the brothers had not been forced to endure that sight.

“Your father was attacked by four deceivers pretending to be the merchants from Ardent. They stabbed him and left him seriously wounded. When we found him, he had lost a great amount of blood and was barely alive. As far as we know the attackers vanished without being seen.”

Glorfindel resisted lowering his eyes and braced himself for the emotional outburst that would now come without doubt. Yet the twin brothers stood there shocked speechless. Elladan paled even more and Elrohir grabbed the sleeve of his brother’s shirt in a vain attempt to steady him. But the change Glorfindel had dreaded did come quickly. The older twin clenched his fists and drew ragged breaths while Elrohir fought the tears already threatening to spill.

Despite his sorrow Elladan had not lost his sharp mind. “How could this happen? How was it possible for them to leave without being seen?” he asked with a low voice, the anger in his voice clearly recognizable.

Glorfindel took a deep breath, understanding the helpless sorrow turning into anger all too well. Elrohir released a strangled sob, knowing clearly that their mentor would not stop them seeing their father if the situation was anything but most dire, he nonetheless looked at the warrior with the same burning eyes as his brother demanding an explanation.

“I cannot answer any of your questions. When I arrived here the attack had already happened and I came just in time to find your father barely alive.”

Choking back a sob of his own Elladan tried again to get past the warrior. Glorfindel however had anticipated this and grabbed the arm of the dark-haired youth more tightly.

“Elladan, please listen to me. Let the healers do their work. We should not disturb them.”

Angrily shaking the grip loose, Elladan opened his mouth to tell the blond that they were accomplished healers themselves and more than capable to care for their father not only physically but emotionally as well, but before he had a chance to utter one word the door of the surgery opened and Tinár appeared on the threshold.

Three heads snapped around and gazed at the elf standing there. The healer took a deep breath and looked blankly at no one in particular.

“We have done all in our power, but the blood loss is too great. He’s dying.”

……………………………………….

While Glorfindel relinquished his hold on Elladan and closed his eyes in utter despair the brothers let out a keening wail and rushed past the warrior and healer. Now they could be stopped no longer. Tinár did not even try to hold them back. How could he have?

When the twins entered the room they briefly faltered in their advance taking in the sight before them. On the only bed in the room lay their father, pale and unmoving, his upper torso completely wrapped in bandages which hid the many wounds. On some parts the pristine white linen was already soaked with fresh blood.

Too shocked to form a coherent thought, Elladan rushed forward and sat on the left side of the still figure on the bed. Elrohir followed suit but took a moment to search for the bond with his father. While the thread with his brother was strong and vibrant he had difficulty even recognizing the quickly fading connection he had with his father.

A quick look at his brother showed him that Elladan had sensed the fleeting fea of their father too, even though he felt it more unconsciously.

‘We must stabilise him, before he slips past our reach’, Elrohir heard the silent command from his brother and without answering he sat down on the opposite side of the bed and mimicked his brother’s actions. Elladan had laid one hand on the side of his father’s face, the other over his chest.

After completing the circle Elrohir nearly let out a cry when his mind was pulled into a maelstrom of emotion, pain and confusion. Before he had the chance to comprehend what was happening, he was swept away in a current he could no longer control.

…………………………………………

Glorfindel was ripped from his shocked state when the door to the antechamber banged open again and Erestor rushed inside. The eyes of the two ancient elves met and the golden warrior had nothing to explain. The worried expression on the dark haired elf’s face told enough. He had already been informed.

Looking through the still open surgery door and seeing the brothers sitting in trance on their father’s bed, Erestor´s head snapped back to look in shock at Glorfindel. Instantly knowing why the advisor looked so startled Glorfindel turned and hurried into the adjoining room.

“We have to stop them. If Elrond is too far gone, he will drag them with him into the abyss,” Erestor called after the warrior. Glorfindel nodded grimly.

Erestor could only follow, yet he had no idea how to accomplish what he had just proposed. He could hardly tear the brothers out of their trance nor would they react to any command or plea.

Gazing at Glorfindel, now standing right next to the bed, he knew that the blond was struggling with the same thought. However one thing they both knew with certainty: If the Elf-Lord died, his sons would follow and they had no power to stop it.

Like Tinár, who had also returned to the room, Erestor watched the brothers carefully. Perhaps they should not intervene at all. They might accidentally make the situation worse. Erestor shook his head. How could the situation become any worse?

But perhaps the brothers could achieve something? He thought with some desperate hope. Above all they had to consider some other facts. Even if the Elf-lord had made his decision to be counted among the Eldar long ago he was still partly of the Edain when it came to his physical attributes.

An elf would probably have survived the brutal attack but being peredhil did limit the ability to heal considerably.

While thinking about all this the tension in the room grew with every passing second. Neither Tinár, Erestor nor Glorfindel had the heart to stop the brothers in their desperate attempt to reach their father even if the outcome seemed obvious.

Erestor closed his eyes. If fate was cruel today they would not only lose the Elf-lord but his sons as well.

The twins had nearly lost themselves after the torment of their mother at the hand of orcs, but they had managed to escape their devastating grief to some degree with help from those around them, mostly their father. If they lost their father now, there would be nothing in this world to stop them from falling into darkness.

The longer Erestor pondered this, the more he recognized a feeling creeping slowly but steadily into his consciousness. It was a feeling he had long ago buried into the deep recesses of his mind; a feeling that was powerful when released and used accordingly but dangerous when uncontrolled. Hatred was often the very essence that had sustained him and driven him in the many battles he had fought against the Evil One. He shuddered at the resurgence of his old companion.

He was normally a very self-restrained elf. Why was he reacting so strongly about the men’s’ deeds? Perhaps it was because the action was so selfish, so senseless and so unnecessary.

With a deep breath he tried to calm down but it was already too late. The beast had been awakened. Glorfindel´s head snapped suddenly around and Erestor returned the irritated look evenly.

The golden warrior had clearly sensed the strong emotion emanating from him. However, before he would reveal even more of his innermost self, Erestor turned, intent on taming the beast he had released.

When Erestor turned abruptly and hurried from the room, Glorfindel closed his eyes. Hopefully his friend knew what he was doing. He almost felt pity for the men. They would not escape their fate. Erestor would not kill them but they would find no place on Middle-earth to hide and they would answer to the elves for the crime they had committed.

To be continued………………