Chapter 5:  strained nerves

“Adar, come quickly! Elrohir was struck by a poisoned arrow!"

The Elf-lord blanched, the teacup he had been holding shattered on the floor and both elves rose simultaneously. After directing a barely concealed look of fright at his advisor, the healer and the warrior hastened after the older twin who had already left the room.

A thousand thoughts seemed to cross the healer’s mind while he followed his son down the long corridor toward the healing wing. He had no doubt that Elladan had brought his brother there.

When he entered the sick room he stopped momentarily. Elrohir had been placed on the central examination table. His chief healer Tinár was already busy cutting away the leggings along his son’s thigh where the arrow was embedded.

Mastering his dread Elrond rushed over uncaring that the table was surrounded by earth and mud from the boots. If his son had been struck by a poisoned arrow of the new deadly sort, then the dirt would be the least of his problems.

Elrohir was writhing on the table barely restrained by the hands of his brother. Elrond placed a hand on his son’s forehead and could already feel the fever that had always appeared when the victims were poisoned.

Mustering all his composure he looked deeply into his son’s eyes while pouring his healing energy into the body.

“Elrohir, I’m here now. Try to take deep breaths,” he ordered. He held up his hand to stop Tinár before the healer began the incisions needed to remove the arrow.

If Elrohir had been poisoned with the deadly substance then Elrond did not want to waste his son’s last moments by inflicting additional pain to remove the arrow.

Understanding his Lord’s silent command Tinár turned to mix a remedy that was always used to counter poison, putting the blade back on the nearby countertop as he walked away.

Glorfindel stood in the background looking over the scene with worry. He dreaded the moment when it would come to the worst and Elrohir would die.

Elrond would then be confronted with yet another failure – and undoubtedly the Elf-lord would see it as such. Glorfindel felt that this family could not bear another tragedy. With his lips pressed into a thin line, he watched as Elrond poured as much healing energy as possible into his son’s body and listened to Elladan´s voice pleading for his brother to hold on.

The other healers stood aside, feeling helpless but hoping that their Lord would succeed even though they suspected that it would be fruitless in the end. They had already seen how quickly the new poison claimed the lives of the unfortunates who had been attacked and not even the superior skills of the Elf-lord had sufficed to do anything against it.

After some time had passed, Glorfindel narrowed his eyes and calculated the time that must have already gone by. Elrohir was still moaning in pain and Elrond appeared to be deep in a healing trance. But by his count he felt that the time the poison had needed to kill the others had already been exceeded. Maybe it was the prolonged surge of concentrated healing energy that had countered the poison’s effect; or perhaps Elrohir had been fortunate and had not been struck by a poisoned arrow of the more deadly sort.

Elrond and Elladan were so absorbed in supporting Elrohir that they did not realize that the time when the poison had claimed each life until now had been exceeded.

Seeing the Elf-lord already sway from the exertion Glorfindel stepped next to the table and after taking a deep breath he dragged the healer determinedly away from his son. Elrohir had quieted and lay drowsy on the table his pain overpowered by the powerful input of his father's healing energy and the continued flow of support from his brother.

Tinár and the other healers gasped in surprise at the forceful act while Elladan gazed in bewilderment, first at Glorfindel and then at his father who was now leaning heavily on the warrior for support. Redirecting his focus, he only now registered that his brother had calmed and was looking at him with a yet dazed but relaxed gaze.

Elrond, still caught in his healing trance, tried to shake off the restraining arms of the warrior. Not succeeding he directed an angry glare at his advisor.

“Release me, Glorfindel! Elrohir needs my help!” he growled while still trying to escape the vice-like grip.

Glorfindel only gripped the healer more firmly.

“Elrond, listen! Look! Look at Elrohir. He’s still alive! The arrow was poisoned, yes, but it has to be the more common sort otherwise he would be dead by now!” the warrior said calmly not loosening his grip before his words had been acknowledged.

The Elf-lord jerked his head sharply in the direction of the examination table and his hard panting slowed when he observed the older twin was actually talking with his brother.

Elrond briefly closed his eyes before relaxing in Glorfindel's grip. He walked over to his son after he had been released. With relief he observed that Elrohir had really calmed down even if the poison was still wracking his body.

Elrond gripped the rim of the table to still his shaking hands. Seeing this and fervently sympathizing with his Lord, Tinár helped the younger twin drink the bitter medicine he had prepared. Elladan aided his brother, barely able to hold his tears of relief in check.

Having regained his composure Elrond placed his hands once more on his son’s chest and was pleased that the added painkiller within the remedy was already working.

After a few reassuring words and after seeing that the eyelids of Elrohir were already drooping he directed his attention to the arrow which was still deep in his son's thigh. With practiced ease he carefully cut the arrow out, throwing it angrily into a metal bowl.

After cleaning and bandaging the wound, he motioned to his older son. Elladan picked up his sleeping brother and carried him to a secluded alcove, placing him on the clean bed.

Briefly Elrond made sure that the standard poison remedy was already working and after a promise from Elladan to sit with his brother and a few short instructions for the healers Elrond left the room.

Just outside he smiled when his advisor silently walked up to him.

“I think I need some fresh air,” was all he said. He turned knowing that Glorfindel would follow him into the garden.

………………………………………

The next day Glorfindel went in search of the Elf-lord. He hadn’t seen him all day. Tinár informed him that Elrond had checked on his son in the morning but since then he hadn’t seen him either.

Elrohir´s condition had improved considerably. His temperature was still high, a testimony to the residual poison still in his body, yet it had lessened compared to the day before and the effects of the toxin were slowly wearing off.

After checking the Elf-lord’s study and finding it empty, Glorfindel nodded to himself. He knew of one place where Elrond would often go if he needed time to think or to simply be alone.

Quickly Glorfindel left the house through a side entrance and hastened up a stone stair winding up a spiralled archway. Finally he reached a platform sheltered by a filigree roof that formed a beautiful pavilion.

On a wooden settee, he glimpsed the healer reclining, relaxed with his head resting on a comfortable armrest. To any casual observer it would seem that the Elf-lord was sleeping, yet Glorfindel knew that he was not.

Elrond often came here to contact the Lady of Lothlórien or to receive news from outside the borders of the sheltered valley in ways only a few could even perceive.

Glorfindel quietly came closer and sat down opposite the Elf-Lord to wait for him while resting in a comfortable chair. He was sure that Elrond had recognized his presence despite his far away gaze and he was quite willing to wait until the Elf-lord’s mind had returned to this place and his conversation was ended.

Glorfindel was not as well versed with far speaking as the healer, although his skills outmatched most others. Still, he dared not eavesdrop nor inquire after the Noldo's business. Elrond would tell him if it was appropriate for him to hear even if he could well guess what business Elrond was conversing about with the Lady of Lothlórien.

While waiting Glorfindel pondered the new situation, since fighting against orc poisons was a daily occurrence. The foul beasts had always used these methods to inflict even more pain than an arrow alone would. It had always been a race against time between the healers and the ever-changing new toxins the orcs developed.

Until now the elves had always kept pace, countering this perfidious strategy. Now however something had changed. Glorfindel was worried that although Elrond had searched for days on end, he had not even gotten close to finding a remedy that really worked.

Today they had lost another injured warrior, a young elf born in Imladris only six hundred years earlier. Where the remedy Elrond had brewed the previous night had postponed the death of the young elf, it had not helped in the end. The youth had died in agony like the victims from the days before and the additional time to find a remedy had been ineffective. Elrond had been left with no other choice then to drug the elf against the pain as much as possible until the call of Lord Námo relieved him from his torment.

This situation was new to the healer. Never before had he not found a remedy against an ailment or at the least something that would be able to bring relief. This unnerved the son of Eärendil greatly and it worried Glorfindel.

Elrond's having retreated here high above the grounds of Imladris to far-speak with the Lady of Light was testimony to his desperation.

Then from one moment to the next the healer stirred and sat up rubbing his temples with the palms of his hands. As Glorfindel had guessed he was not in the least surprised to see him sitting across from him on the chair.

For long moments the two friends pondered their own thoughts while unconsciously listening to the Song only elves could hear amongst all the creatures living on Arda.

Suddenly the Master of Imladris rose and walked to the rim of the platform. Glorfindel also rose and joined the Half-elf, both of them standing at the edge of a sheer drop which featured no balustrade.

“Galadriel has not encountered either causalities or a new poison; however she has perceived that some new malice is stirring at Dol Guldûr. They have also encountered increased orc activity in the past weeks. Your guess that the poison comes from beyond the mountains seems correct.”

Glorfindel inclined his head even if the confirmation did nothing to ease his heart. That the new malice was possibly stemming from Dol Guldûr was bad news indeed. The consequences were less appealing too and the Half-elf’s next words gave voice to his own dark fears.

“I must travel to Lothlórien and, if need be, further toward Eryn Galen!” Elrond finally announced. This was not a suggestion but a statement and a decision already made.

With these words the healer turned and left the platform. Glorfindel remained just a moment longer. He could count the reasons for the healer to leave his valley on one hand.

Sighing he turned, already thinking about the preparations he had to make.

Would they find help or a solution beyond the mountains? With a heart that was heavier than before he had climbed the stairs to the pavilion, the warrior hurried after the Half-elf.

To be continued………..