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tolo dan na galad (`come back to the light`)  by Laikwalâssę

Tolo dan na galad

(`come back to the light`)

Chapter 10: places we never wanted to look at

For a short time, Elrond felt a great dizziness and was about to withdraw; more by instinct than consciously; but in time he remembered the purpose behind his actions and let himself be dragged along by the current his mind was following. He was no longer sure if he would be able to willingly stop this process and return to a conscious state of mind or if the power of the ring would continue dragging him along until he had reached his destination.

He nearly laughed out loud. He did not even know where his destination was. He had never done this before. He had always only brushed the surface of others’ minds or read thoughts easily bared before him to impart comfort to a failing spirit, but never had he intruded someone’s fëa this deeply and certainly not to hunt and defeat an enemy hiding there. He had no idea what to expect.

When the whirling kaleidoscope came to a stand-still, he briefly shut his mind’s eyes to stop his world from spinning and to stabilize the swaying floor beneath his feet. He was aware that his body was sitting beside the warrior, watched over by his sons and that these feelings were only imagined, but his brain could not distinguish between reality and illusion.

Now that his mental journey had ended, he looked around and was almost disappointed because he could not make out anything more than a dimly lit room – a room without any doors or windows. He carefully stepped farther into the room, and the faint blue light originating from Vilya that had surrounded him until now vanished entirely. When his eyes had adjusted to the dimness, he could make out a faint glimmer coming from the opposite wall.

He stiffened his muscles expecting an attack from the dark spirit at any moment, but when nothing happened, he narrowed his eyes. The glimmer did not move nor could he feel anything dark or alien about the form ahead of him whatever or whoever it was.

With all of senses heightened, he gasped when he realized that the crouched figure on the ground was none other than Glorfindel. He carefully stepped closer. Not even for a second could he let his guard down despite the worry for his friend. This could be a trap. The warrior had not yet reacted to his arrival.

Slowly the healer knelt down and lightly touched the warrior on his shoulder. Without raising his head, Glorfindel shifted just a fraction. *Be careful, Elrond. He’s here, watching us. He cannot be defeated easily.*

With a frown, the Elf-lord withdrew his hand. Glorfindel seemed unsurprised by his presence. In fact, he did not show any emotion at all. Cautiously Elrond looked around as far as his eyes could penetrate the gloom. Just when he turned back to the elf, Glorfindel´s head jerked up and his eyes stared past him. Elrond turned to follow the line of sight but saw nothing.

“Watch out,” Glorfindel suddenly said in a low tone. Elrond rose and now he could perceive something. A dark figure, barely recognizable against the blackness, was suddenly standing there. Narrowing his eyes the healer looked at the figure carefully. He could not make out any features in the face, which had nothing to do with the dimness of the light. Rather, there was nothing in the face of this being the eye could catch on. It was expressionless, devoid of any characteristics, shapeless, wavering, and alien.

Nevertheless, the evil emanating from the being was flowing toward him like a dark vapour, chilling, enveloping, and repugnant. For a second Elrond felt the overwhelming desire to recoil and withdraw but a moment later his unique self-control got the upper hand and he straightened his shoulders.

However, before Elrond could take one-step toward the enemy the shapeless face was drawn into a grimace and high-pitched laughter could be heard.

“Look, look, what we have here? The Master of Rivendell himself. Your poor Troop Commander is unable to fight for himself, what a pity. He has failed before and will fail again. Now you think you can defeat me?”

Not raising to the bait Elrond hid his disdain at the presumptuous being behind a stony mask. He moved between the dark shadow and Glorfindel. The elf had not reacted to the taunt. He had remained immobile.

This made the healer more uneasy then the taunting of the Nazgűl. Redirecting his gaze to the gloomy figure Elrond took another step closer to the being, intent on enlarging the safe distance for the warrior. Something was wrong with Glorfindel. This defeated bearing was unusual for Glorfindel even in such a situation.

“You seem very sure of yourself, but this I will change,” he said in as calm a tone as he could master while being face-to-face with a minion of the Dark Lord.

For a second the Nazgűl seemed stunned but then the unbearable laughter resumed. The healer planted his feet apart and prepared himself for the battle. He had to end this here and now; his friend’s mind had been subjected to this evil already too long.

Gathering all his mental power Elrond directed his full attention at his enemy and released a mighty push of channelled energy. 

 

……………………………………

The gazes of the twin brothers were fixed on the face of their father; their countenances still troubled. The healer had been sitting beside the golden warrior for over an hour now and seemed frozen in time.

At first, they had barely dared to breathe for fear of disturbing their father’s concentration. They could clearly feel the tension in the healer’s posture. They had witnessed and supported with a healing trance many times before, but this was different. The healing was the secondary part. The main goal this time was to free a spirit from an occupation.

The twins had total confidence in their father’s abilities, yet to fight a Nazgűl within another’s mind was nothing the Elf-lord had attempted before. Their fears, not only for their father but also for the warrior whose spirit was the battleground, were not ill founded.

With one of his father’s hands firmly grasped in his, Elladan’s fëa was connected with his father’s wandering spirit, while Elrohir had bound his spirit to the warrior’s. They only held light contact to determine immediately if something went wrong, but dared not probe further, much less intervene, even if the desire to help was great.

Their hearts however felt restless and their feelings of desperation were spreading. What should they actually do if something went wrong? What could they do? Again, Elladan directed a searching look at his brother, and again he received hopeless look in return. They could only wait.

Dark shapes, wisps of thoughts swirled around their minds; undoubtedly echoes from the confrontation happening right before their eyes yet so far away.

Absently Elladan rubbed his thumb over the stone of the ring on his father’s hand. Vilya was visible now, as it was every time its power was called upon. The faint blue light emanating from the beautiful blue stone illuminated the whole room. The light brought comfort, yet increased their anguish. The power behind the light supported the healer, but with the growing intensity they knew greater demands for Vilya’s support were being demanded; therefore the enemy was fighting back hard.

At this moment, the light was very intense, nearly blinding. Erestor had closed the heavy curtains making sure that anyone looking at the windows would see no sign of light. Very few in Imladris knew that the Elf-lord was the wielder of one of the three rings of power, and this should remain so.

Without warning, it happened. The ring´s light increased again; the blue glow began to spark. The Elf-lord on the bed uttered a cry and the body of the golden warrior convulsed. Shocked, the brothers relinquished their hold on the elves, but only for a second. Quickly they restored their bond and witnessed a battle they had never imagined possible.

 

……………………………..

When the beam of energy collided with the dark figure, Elrond let out a surprised cry. He was stunned because, while the Nazgűl screamed in rage and pain, the Elf-lord was thrown back with such a force that he slid many feet across the floor to finally impact hard with the wall.

Shaking his head to get rid of his light-headedness, the healer came quickly back to his feet and realized, to his amazement, that the energy was still flowing from him and colliding with the force of the evil being in the middle of the room.

The light of Vilya shone a brilliant blue and the beam of the enemy had a dark red glow. Where the two lights met, they mingled into a single blinding light fighting for dominance.

A pained moan made his head jerk around and away from the fascinating spectacle to the crouched figure on the floor. With shock, Elrond realized that Glorfindel was writhing in pain. Still concentrating on fighting, the healer at first could not identify what was causing the warrior his distress. Narrowing his eyes, he finally saw that some of the red energy was being diverted and targeted at Glorfindel.

Redirecting his gaze back to the Nazgűl Elrond took a deep breath. He pulled himself up to his full height. Calming his thoughts and emptying his mind he put away all the worry and concerns he had, gathering his power and calling upon everything Vilya could offer.

Slowly but determinedly he strode forward, with every step intensifying the blue light until the bypass of red energy ceased. The Nazgűl screeched again but this time in fear. He had no choice but to withdraw from the mighty Elf-lord, now terrible to behold in his rage.

Elrond did not grant the Nazgűl a second of repose. He had to defeat him right now. He felt how the power of the energy directed at him was wavering, yet his own limits were nearly reached too. With strength born of desperation, he moved another step forward. He had the Nazgul cornered against the opposite wall. It was fighting back uncoordinated and frantic now, out of fear and agony.

Closing his ears to the curses and taunts Elrond mobilized all his intellect, remembering that this was only happening in an unreal dimension, to destroy the one who had killed so many elves. Elrond built an enclosure around the dark spirit and sealed the opening quickly. Only faintly, he could hear the screams, which quickly changed into pitiful wails.

The light of Vilya had stopped the moment the prison was sealed. Panting hard the Elf-lord sank to his knees utterly spent. His hands pressed to the cold floor, he gasped breaths of air into his tormented body. He gave no heed to the cries of the Nazgűl. After a few minutes they had stopped anyway.

When the shaking of his muscles lessened somewhat Elrond rose and turned. With dread he looked at the now still figure on the ground. Had his victory been a defeat in the end? Had the concentrated energy killed the warrior? From this distance at any rate he could not make out if the elf still lived.

Stumbling forward the Elf-lord knelt beside his friend and quickly turned the warrior over. The face of Glorfindel was still contorted in pain and his eyes were disturbingly closed. With a shaking hand Elrond reached out and searched for a heartbeat. His own nerves were still frayed and he needed a few moments to make sure that he was indeed feeling a pounding beneath his fingertips.

With a relieved sigh the healer sank down the wall and pillowed his friend’s head in his lap. He did not have the strength to do anything else right now.

His eyes looked at the stone mound he had created. He could no longer hear anything indicating that the Nazgűl was still active. He was defeated and the memory could now be erased from the elf’s mind.

Stroking his friend’s hair Elrond closed his eyes, intent on sitting here until the warrior regained consciousness and he himself could return to his body.

After an indeterminate period of time the warrior stirred and Elrond opened his eyes to look into the blue eyes already focused on him. Pleased, he felt that some strength had already returned.

But instantly he felt that something was not right. He had expected some relief from Glorfindel, but nearly the opposite was the case. Instead, Glorfindel emanated desperation and a weariness that frightened Elrond. He was still affected from the Nazgűl’s occupation but somehow he should also feel the lifting of the dark veil that had surrounded him.

“Glorfindel?” Elrond asked, anxious to learn why the warrior was reacting this strangely. “The Nazgűl is defeated. You are no longer possessed by him. You are safe and free, my friend.” But the healer still got no reaction.

With sadness in his eyes that nearly took Elrond’s breath away, the warrior rose into a sitting position.

“Elrond, I thank you for what you have done for me,” Glorfindel began with a voice that made all the hair on the healer’s neck stand on end. “But as I said before, it was not my intention to survive and I will definitely not come back with you. Please return alone and let me die in peace.”

To be continued………………………….





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