Chapter 9: actions we never wanted to take

After he had cared for Erestor´s injuries and advised the elf to rest, Elrond left the private quarters of his councillor and was now on his way to the healing ward. What he had postponed against better judgement he had to do now. He had to make sure that his Troop Commander did not have the chance to threaten someone else again. Still shocked by what Erestor had told him, he reviewed the report while walking down the corridor.

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Erestor had silently opened the door to Glorfindel´s sickroom just a crack to see if his friend was awake. To his surprise he saw the bed was empty and from his position he could not glimpse Glorfindel. Opening the door a bit further, Erestor had peered around the door and finally spotted the warrior standing at the window.

He had frowned. Was Glorfindel already allowed to leave the bed? The advisor shrugged his shoulders. Glorfindel should be aware of what he was doing and Lord Elrond had visited the warrior only shortly before.

He took two steps inside the room and cleared his throat when the warrior didn’t react from his entrance, but even after this announcement the elf did not react. He still stood at the window like he was carved out of stone looking into the courtyard below.

Erestor´s frown had not left his face. Was the warrior deliberately ignoring him or was he so preoccupied with his thoughts that he really had not heard him? Erestor had come to a decision and stepped up next to the elf, lightly touching the other’s shoulder.

“Glorfindel?,” he had asked in a low voice not wanting to startle the elf. Somehow he had felt strange in the presence of his long-time friend. Something was emanating from the warrior that was entirely alien to him.

Later, Erestor could hardly recount to Elrond what had occurred next. It had all happened so fast that he did not have the slightest chance to react. His hand had just made contact with the elf’s shoulder when the warrior whirled around and punched his balled fist into Erestor´s chest.

Having not expected this, the advisor was thrown back with such a force that he impacted hard with the opposite wall. The wind was knocked out of him and he had fought to catch his breath. Erestor was barely able to gasp when Glorfindel moved toward him with a speed no one would expect from one recently recovered and with his right hand pinned his shoulder against the wall with a bruising grip.

However, it was not the pain or the unexpected act that had made Erestor gasp; it was the utter hatred that had stared back at him from the once blue eyes of his friend which were now nearly black with anger.

“Never touch me without my permission. Can’t I have some peace?” Glorfindel growled. For a few seconds more the cold stare continued, but from one moment to the other the eyes had lost their alien expression and the warrior had looked nearly surprised or maybe even exasperated.

Without another word Glorfindel had turned and walked back to the window looking out again as if nothing had happened. Erestor had blinked to make sure he had not imagined this. The pain in his back and the already blooming bruise on his chest and shoulder however had confirmed, strikingly, that the warrior had just attacked him.

He had not wanted to irritate the Troop Commander again, so he had left the room quickly without another glance towards the Elf-lord. Another attack and he could not guarantee he would not fight back. In the corridor again he had flexed his aching shoulder to make sure that nothing was broken.

Fighting down his irritation and taking deep breaths to calm his furiously beating heart he had wondered what had happened to his friend.

Lord Elrond had told him that Glorfindel was deeply grieved and depressed over the incident with the patrol but this attack went above all that could be excused with a traumatised mind.

Never one to not solve problems by himself Erestor quickly made his way down the corridor nonetheless. In this matter he was in need of council from the psychologically trained mind of a competent healer.

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The healer shuddered at the recollection. He felt responsible for what had happened to his advisor. He should have expected something like that. He had not yet told anyone else about the dark imprints he had seen on the warriors mind.

Erestor knew of course that a Nazgûl was initially responsible for the death of the patrol, but the fact that the Troop Commander was still in some way controlled he had kept to himself.

Valar – if anyone else other than Erestor had suffered the attack…Elrond swallowed. He had let himself be lulled in by the warrior’s confirmation that he was all right. He had all too readily believed the false declarations from a mind occupied by an enemy.

Nonetheless the healer wondered how the confrontation had played out. He suspected that the Nazgûl did not have full control over the warrior yet; otherwise he would have easily been able to kill Erestor while he had caught him unaware.

Obviously the warrior was still fighting against the intruder and there was a battle over dominion. Yet, was Glorfindel even aware that he was subjected to another’s will or was he just fighting intuitively?

Having reached his patient’s room the healer straightened his shoulders. He would go in there because he had to make sure if his most trusted friend was no longer the master over his mind. The requested guards had already appeared and were now standing to the left and right of the door. He acknowledged their presence with a nod.

“First I will go in alone. I will call for you if necessary.” Receiving a reluctant nod from both of them the healer did not miss the uneasy gazes the warriors exchanged. Yet they had also glimpsed the long knife strapped to his belt.

This however would be his absolute last means to placate his friend. He hoped he would be able to control whatever was occupying the elf’s mind with the power of Vilya and if not; than with the means of the strong sedative he carried in his pocket.

Blowing out his breath he opened the door and stepped over the threshold.

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He had barely stepped inside the room when the hair on his neck stood on end instantly. Elrond had made himself believe that he was prepared for an incident like the one Erestor had told him about; yet the strong arm encircling his throat from behind caught him off guard nonetheless.

The warrior must have waited next to the door to pounce on whoever was stepping inside. After the attack on Erestor Glorfindel had only to put two and two together to know who was entering. Glorfindel was strong yet Elrond was no weakened scholar. By using all his might and experience he would at least be able to shake loose the strong grip or whirl the warrior around, but this could not be done without risking his friend getting injured again.

Glorfindel had obviously lost the fight for his free will. Elrond could no longer feel the familiar fëa of his friend. Only the presence of the Nazgûl was prominent now. Knowing that this battle had to be fought by the power of the mind and not with the means of strength, he hesitated to hurt a body enslaved by another’s will.

First however he had to even the score to have a better basis for using his mental power. Relaxing his body and not fighting back, Elrond tried to placate the agitated warrior by seemingly relenting. The grip did not tighten further.

Concentrating all of his mind’s energy and calling for more strength upon Vilya, Elrond sent a mighty mental push toward the dark presence occupying Glorfindel´s fëa. The healer prayed that the warrior’s mind would not take any damage.

The Nazgûl did not react as predicted. He did recoil in shock and anger but did not release his hold in the slightest. The push however made him stumble back; but because off the still strong hold around his neck Elrond was forced along with the motion and both elves tumbled against the door with a loud bang.

Only now the strong grip lessened and Elrond could twist out from under the arm, scamper away and get back on his feet. Glorfindel was on his feet just as quickly when the door flew open revealing two grim looking guards with their swords drawn. While one of them stepped forward with his sword, pinning Glorfindel to his spot, the other guard looked between his Lord and his Troop Commander irritated and unsure how to act.

“Do not hurt him,” Elornd cautioned when Glorfindel stepped forward and the guard raised his sword in warning. An arrogant smile appeared on the elf’s face and Elrond knew this was only the Nazgûl´s doing. The guard looked at his chief bewildered.

The air in the room was pregnant with tension. From the corner of his eye Elrond noticed the arrival of his twin sons. He had to act now before the situation got out of control. Glorfindel, or rather the Nazgûl, would risk the destruction of the elf’s body if he saw a chance to kill the Master of Imladris.

Briefly closing his eyes Elrond gathered all his mental power and enhanced his outstanding ability again by calling upon the power of the ring. Not understanding but clearly sensing their father’s need for support the twins connected with his fëa and gave him all the strength they possessed. First focusing and then releasing all the power in a mighty push the warrior was bodily thrown back and tumbled to the floor unconscious.

Yet Elrond was also thrown back from the mental backslash. The healer landed ungracefully on the floor but no one cared. The guard, joined by his colleague looked in disbelief at the two Elf-lords on the floor. They had been told to come to the aid of the Master of Imladris if necessary and this was strange enough because the one Master Elrond was acting against was their chief. Now they had witnessed a battle they had no knowledge of, a battle of the mind.

The twins however, though also not fully comprehending why their father was using the ring´s power against their beloved mentor, rushed into the room concern etched on their fair faces.

His palms pressed against his temples their father had squeezed his eyes shut. Elrond’s mind reeled. The Nazgûl had screeched in terror while being pushed back, yet he had also heard the mental outcry of Glorfindel. As relieved as he was to confirm that his friend was still present he was shocked that he had hurt his friend’s spirit.

While Elladan kneeled down beside his father Elrohir directed an uneasy gaze at the prone form of Glorfindel. He knelt down next to the Commander, unsure how to help. He ordered the guard next to him to close the door.

“Adar, are you alright?” the older twin asked while lightly touching the healer at the shoulder. Opening his eyes the Elf-lord looked at his son. Elladan extended a finger to touch the heavy bump on his father’s brow. The contact made the Elf-lord flinch; he had not felt the pain until then. The impact with the door must have been rather hard.

“I’m fine, my son,” Elrond reassured his oldest and extended a hand. Not convinced Elladan gripped the outstretched hand and carefully helped his father back to his feet. He had not failed to notice the unnaturally widened pupils in his father’s eyes, but he was not sure if this was a result of the impact with the door or the mental push they had witnessed.

“Elrohir, do not touch him”, Elrond suddenly cried and the younger twin withdrew his hand as if burned. He had stretched out his hand to ascertain Glorfindel´s condition. He looked bewildered at his father. Why should he not touch the elf?

Fearing that the Nazgûl could use the contact to move into another body the Elf-lord sighed. The need for information was now overdue. “Elladan, Elrohir,” he said while inviting the guards with a nod, “Glorfindel’s mind is possessed by a Nazgûl. He first attacked Erestor and then me. I have managed to incapacitate him but unfortunately this will not hold for long.”

While the guards still struggled to understand, the twins nodded, albeit shaken at the revelation. That the warrior was acting strange was known to them, but that the reason behind this was that the warrior was possessed by a Nazgûl’s will they could not have imagined.

Elrond quickly crossed the room and knelt next to the warrior. He checked the heartbeat and nodded, satisfied that no further bodily harm had come to his friend. About his mind’s state he was not so certain. The warrior was deeply unconscious and so was the Nazgûl but this would not hold forever.

With the help of his sons the healer moved the limp body to the bed. He turned back to the guards. “I do not require your presence inside but please stay ready at the door.”

“As you wish, my Lord,” “Of, course, my Lord,” they replied before they left with a last look at the elf on the bed. Elrond could feel their consternation but they trusted him implicitly and for that he was grateful.

Seating himself at the bed the healer made sure that the warrior was still unconscious. He absently patted his pocket containing the vial with the strong sedative. He would force it down the throat of his friend if necessary to never give the Nazgûl or rather its mind the chance to possess Glorfindel´s body again.

Relenting to the questioning looks of his sons the Elf-lord’s features hardened. “Now let us free Glorfindel from this evil,” he declared and laid his hands left and right of the warrior’s face. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes.

“Be careful, Ada,” the twins whispered ready to support their father. Their faces reflected only concern for the two elders.

`I hope you are still there, my friend to guide and aid me! Elrond thought before his mind sank into the spirit of his best friend.

To be continued……………………