Chapter 11:  striking fate

Three months later, Elrond heard voices beneath his study balcony. About to get up anyway, he shoved back his chair and stepped out on the balcony, taking in a deep lungful of the clear evening breeze. How he would miss the moderate clime of the valley, the ever present roar of the waterfall and the contrast of wide lawns and huge forests.

His breath however hitched when he saw which voices he had heard. Glorfindel and Elvëa were walking through the garden.

Walking however was not the right word to describe the scene, at least concerning Elvëa. The skinny woman was leaning heavily on Glorfindel´s arm, the warrior taking most of her weight off her feet. Not that she weighed much anyway.

Nonetheless, Elrond raised an eyebrow in wonder. Month ago he had sworn, that this woman would never rise, much less walk. Again Elvëa had surprised him, yet the incredulity of the action made her even more mysterious and Elrond more suspicious. His knowledge as a healer had not come by chance and her recovery was against all laws of known science.

Considered by rational standards of physics Elvëa should have never been able to recover, yet here she was walking through his garden, talking with his Troop commander, even if her words were few, croaked and most inscrutable.

Elrond wondered if a higher power was behind Elvëa´s recovery, if it could be called so and the healer was not assuming the Valar behind all this. Elrond feared that the worst had yet to come.

………………………………..

Another month later, when nearly all preparations were complete for the upcoming departure to the Grey Havens, Elvëa had made another big step toward her recovery. Elrond had stopped wondering how this could be possible. He had accepted that all his experience of life had proved false in the case of this woman.

She was still very reserved toward all the elves in Imladris, only towards Glorfindel did she seem to open up. While she spoke only few words when absolutely necessary; she seemed to have found a secret way to communicate with the warrior.

Again Elrond had tried to persuade Glorfindel to leave with them for the Blessed realm, but again Glorfindel had refused with a vague promise to come later after he had shown Elvëa the wonders of Middle- earth. Elrond was under the impression that at least Elvëa was impatiently waiting for their departure to finally be alone with her former lover. Glorfindel was also adamant in not leaving, at least not now.

Even if Elrond had stopped voicing his concerns, his uneasiness increased from day to day as their leaving draw nearer. Elvëa was somehow feeling his aloofness and opened more up even, speaking a few words directly to him.

She even tried to get in contact with the other inhabitants but Elrond always had the feeling that she only did what was expected of her. Her cold green eyes constantly darted around, their wary expression never leaving them.

Elrond wandered for a last time through his grounds, determined to shake off the disturbing thoughts constantly invading his mind when thinking about Elvëa. Maybe he was simply disappointed that Glorfindel was not coming with him to Valinor?

Angrily, the healer shook his head. What right did he have to deny Glorfindel his happiness? If the warrior wished to stay longer in Middle- earth then he had to accept this.

………………………..

Elrond was rudely awakened from his night slumber by a determined knocking on his bedroom door.

“Master Elrond, wake up! We need your assistance!”

The healer was wide awake instantly. The voice belonged to Lindir and it was coloured with urgency and dread.

Grabbing his night robe he called out an affirmative and quickly slipped into his slippers.

When he left his bedroom Lindir was still hovering inside his rooms with a hounded look in his eyes.

“Quickly, it’s Elvëa,” Lindir said while already storming outside.

Elrond sighed and grabbed the ever present and packed healing bag from a chair next to the door and followed Lindir onto the corridor. At the next moment he heard a high pitched cry, undoubtedly coming from Elvëa. While increasing his pace Elrond saw a few elves gathered in front of Glorfindel´s apartments.

Elrond raised an eyebrow. Elvëa being the reason for a disturbed night’s sleep was nothing new and had become a sad habit during the last months.

Seeing their Lord coming down the corridor the elves parted. Elrond stopped in mid stride, however at seeing his chief counsellor Erestor sitting on a bench pressing a thick wad against a heavily bleeding wound at his shoulder.

Elrond inhaled sharply. What was the meaning of this? He had expected Elvëa to be needing his help, but not a wounded member of his household.

“Erestor, what happened?” the healer asked, unable to keep the concern out of his voice.

While he quickly stepped closer to steady his counsellor who was already swaying, due to loss of blood Elrond tried to make sense of the unfolding events.

Why was no one helping the wounded elf? Elrond’s confusion was mounting. He was just to kneel in front of the dark haired elf but the outstretched arm of Erestor made him hesitate.

“Elrond, it’s not me – it’s Glorfindel!” Erestor groaned, his face contorted in pain.

Steadying the counsellor, Elrond turned his head and froze. The scene he glimpsed through a gap in the crowd of elves made his blood run cold. A scene sprung up from a nightmare.

………………………………

Elvëa was standing in the middle of the living room, a sword raised high in the air. Her white night gown was blood stained and torn. Only now, Elrond recognized the guard standing in front of the woman was equally raising a sword in her face.

What however made the healer reel, was the still figure of Glorfindel lying in front of his bed within a great puddle of blood.

Seeing his chief healer Tinár running down the corridor and overtaking the councillor, Elrond slowly rose. His eyes narrowed while he neared the entrance of the warrior´s apartments.

With a soft spoken but sharp command, he cleared the space in front of the door. The elves draw back further into the corridor while more guards were lining up left and right at the entrance.

Elrond tried to access the condition of the warrior. Obviously Elvëa had attacked Glorfindel while sleeping. Considering the great amount of blood beneath the fallen body and the drenched night shirt there had to be a deep wound. 

Elrond, however, had no time to piece the puzzle together. The moment he stepped over the threshold Elvëa whirled around, raised the sword and attacked. The waiting guard sprung forward and parried the blow while Elrond grabbed a sword handed to him by another guard.

“I will kill all you scum,” Elvëa cried, readying herself for another blow.

Elrond parried the next blow himself and motioned for the guard to leave the room. Reluctantly the elf followed his orders, but not without hovering at the door. Elrond made an effort not to injure the woman, not knowing what had triggered this reaction. Seeing the two wounded elves, however, his anger rose. His gut feeling had not betrayed him then?

With practiced movements, he shoved Elvëa further and further towards the wall, which was no great effort with the skinny woman. Nonetheless, she put considerable strength into her blows such as Elrond had never thought possible.

Having seen Tinár hovering at the door, Elrond shoved Elvëa again back to give his chief healer room for treating Glorfindel.

Looking at Elvëa made Elrond shudder. Everything that had made her an elf had left her. Her appearance, especially her eyes all looked utterly strange. The death like look had reappeared, the eyes again sunken in their sockets, the haggard form more emaciated then ever.

Hearing his colleague swear under his breath, Elrond turned his head to look at the healer. Elvëa used this moment of distraction to whirl around and break through the closed window.

Elrond was showered with glass splinters while Elvëa was falling together with the door frame of the great patio window onto the terrace. Unheeding of her many gashes, she rose, grabbed the sword and ran down across the lawn.

Elrond motioned for the guards to follow her while he shook out his clothing. After shoving away the glass with his shoe, Elrond knelt next to Tinár.

The healer had meanwhile cut the clothing free from the wound and was still pressing a thick pad over the deep hole to staunch the bleeding.

Elrond folded another linen patch. While changing the soaked one with the new he took a quick look at the wound. The sword had cut deep into the upper abdomen. The still heavy bleeding indicated that an inner organ or an artery had been cut.

“I must have him at the infirmary, at once!” Elrond said and Tinár only nodded.

While Elrond rose and left the room to prepare himself for the surgery Tinár organized the warrior´s transport toward the healing wing.

…………………………………………

For three hours Elrond had worked to save the life of the warrior and finally he had succeeded. Even if the great blood loss was still worrisome Elrond was confident that Glorfindel would survive.

Despite his weariness, Elrond was determined to find out what had happened this night. After making sure that Glorfindel was doing as well as possible considering the circumstances, the healer changed into more comfortable clothing. Silently closing the door, Elrond crossed the corridor to enter the sickroom of Elvëa’s second victim.

When he opened the door, Erestor looked at him with a dark expression.

“How is he?” he asked his cold voice betraying his worry. Elrond silently closed the door and approached him. Critically, he eyed his counsellor. Erestor´s right shoulder was thickly bandaged and immobilized, but apart from a pale complexion the elf seemed alright.

Elrond sat on the edge of the bed and inhaled deeply.

“Glorfindel is sleeping now. I stitched a pierced liver and closed a sliced artery. The blood loss however was great and he will need time to recover.”

Erestor nodded and closed his eyes briefly.

“What happened Erestor?” Elrond asked. The dark haired elf opened his eyes reluctantly. Elrond had still not learned how Erestor had come to be injured and why Elvëa had suddenly lost control.

“I was working late with Lindir at the library. I was on my way back to my rooms when I recognized a shadow behind me but it was already too late.

Elvëa had rammed a sword in my right shoulder before I could even blink. In my shock and pain, I punched her back with a hard blow but she recovered quickly. Before I could even rise, she had pulled open the door to Glorfindel´s rooms, reached his bed and stabbed him with her sword. Had Lindir and the guard not come to our aid we would be dead.”

Elrond eyes had widened. Elvëa had purposefully attacked both elves with the intention to kill? He was hard pressed to believe that, yet the results he had just treated.

Shaking his head he rose. From the beginning he had a bad feeling about this woman. He deepest fears had sadly come true. He would end this spectacle once and for all.

He had just received the information that Elvëa had been captured and was now secured in one of the cells. This demon would never again come near to someone he cared for. He would made sure of that.

To be continued………………………..