Chapter 13:  clean sweep

A week had now gone by since Glorfindel had last visited Elvëa. Elrond had really hoped that the warrior would be able to reach her. Yet she had reacted to him just like every other visitor. She had berated and cried at the elf, and had called him names Elrond was not willing to repeat.

She had not paused in her ranting and listened for even a moment. Glorfindel had tried three more times, yet always with the same result. Finally, he had given up, his soul sore. He had accepted that he had lost Elvëa a second time. The being down in the cells was no longer the love he had so briefly found again.

The elves ruling Imladris were now sitting together to decide how to proceed further. The date for departure had been delayed twice, but Elrond was no longer willing to wait. All the preparations had been made to depart. The twin sons of the Elf-lord would still reside at the valley for the time being, but Elrond did not want to leave the unsolved problem of Elvëa behind. Fortunately, some insight had returned to the warrior´s mind and now they would discuss how to proceed.

Many options had already been discussed, but still no satisfying solution had been found. The most pressing question was still not answered. Was Elvëa simply possessed and was there a chance to free her from whatever has befallen her, or was she simply a mirage created for them to fall victim to a vanquished Istari´s plans?

“I still suggest taking her along and leaving her in the wild,” Erestor said slowly, wearied from a discussion without end.

“And then what? Chase her away and shoot an arrow in her back?” Glorfindel hissed and sprung to his feet. Elrond eyed his friend sceptically. He was still not sure how the warrior had handled the loss of his love.

He had said not a word about what had happened. His current comment did not bode well however.

“Of course not,” Elrond retorted, yet we cannot take her with us, nor can we leave her here. It would be best for her…..”

Glorfindel whirled around.

“You want to kill her?”

The healer closed his eyes briefly.

“Glorfindel, she is no longer in her right mind. She is suffering and I have the means to make her death as comfortable as possible. Her suffering, bodily and mentally, would end.”

“No!” Glorfindel cried. “Not as long as I draw breath. There has to be another way.”

With this, the warrior turned and left the room.

………………………….

Two weeks later, Elrond had nearly lost hope that any workable solution to their problem could be achieved. He had almost accepted that he would lose his long time companion, because Glorfindel had made no attempt to prepare for their journey so far.

The healer was very surprised when his Troop commander came to his office early in the morning.

“I agree to end her suffering, but I decide how and I will do it,” he declared with a determined voice while looking at the healer intently. Maybe some explanation how he came to this decision?

Elrond heaved a relieved breath.

“Off course. I will prepare everything and you tell me when you are ready.”

Glorfindel only nodded and left the room.

……………………….

The syringe with the narcotic agent clutched in his hand Glorfindel stepped down the stairs. Meanwhile, he was certain he was doing the right thing. Again he had tried to reason with Elvëa, had cried and shouted with her, had pleaded and even slapped her, but nothing had again brought forth the woman he loved more then life. Elvëa had vanished, replaced by an empty shell occupied by a twisted mind controlled by an unknown evil.

After the injection, she would fall into a deep sleep and her heartbeat would slow down until it would stop completely. Elrond had assured him that she would know nothing of all this. She would sleep and never awaken.

Glorfindel had already ordered that no guard should witness what was to come. He wanted to be alone with Elvëa.

When he stopped at the cell door, she was sitting on the wooden bench eyeing him, but saying nothing. This was new. Until now, she had ranted and cried the moment someone had come around the corner.

“Elvëa?” Glorfindel said and to his great surprise she reacted by standing up. Glorfindel swallowed. All the progress she had made in the last months had vanished. She looked like the corpse he had first held in his arms in the depths of Orthanc.

The warrior unlooked the cell door and stepped inside. Slowly he came nearer. He was already prepared for another verbal attack but quite the opposite happened. Elvëa looked at him and the mad expression had vanished from her eyes.

“Glorfindel where have you been?” she whispered, her cold fingers clutching around his forearm.

The warrior stepped back shocked. What was happening here? Even if nothing was left from the beautiful woman Elvëa once was, he could still glimpse shreds of her former self, of her beauty, of her love, of her gentleness. Her soft voice was raspy now but somehow familiar……

He swallowed again and clutched the syringe in his hand tighter. He would never be able to administer the drug if she looked at him with these lovely eyes. Never!

Maybe the possession was over? Maybe she had returned, had overcome what had ailed her?

“Elvëa, I…..” he whispered, burying the syringe deeper in the folds of his rope. She was now standing just a breath away, her face turned slightly upwards…..

“My love,” she said softly, “we will be reunited in death.”

Before the words had sunk in, Glorfindel felt a stabbing pain in his upper back.

Staggering back, he tried to draw breath, but the burning only increased. Elvëa was holding a spiky object in her hand. The mad gleam had returned to her eyes.

“You fool. Elves are so easy to corrupt.”

With these words, she raised her arm for another strike but Glorfindel had regained his breath and balance.

Intercepting her hand in mid-air, he turned her around and injected the syringe in her neck. Her struggles continued, but slowed considerably until she was hanging loose in his arms.

Ignoring the pain in his back, he lifted the light body in his arms and placed it on the bench. The long rusty nail fell from her limp fingers and clattered to the floor.

Tears were rolling down his face, which were not caused by the new injury. He laid his head on her breast listening to her shallow breathing and her slowing heartbeat. Endless minutes it seemed to him but finally her heart had stopped.

Mustering all his strength, Glorfindel rose and turned. He was no longer willing to look into his beloved’s pale face knowing that he would carry the guilt in killing her for endless eons.

After only one step, however, he heard a noise behind him. Before his befuddled mind could comprehend what was happening, he recognized a movement at the cell door.

Elrond was storming into the cell closely followed by Erestor. A second later, he was pushed out of the way, only to be caught by the strong arms of Erestor. Freeing himself of the supporting hands and ignoring the ever increasing pain in his back, Glorfindel turned around again.

The dizziness caused by the blood loss let him watch the scene unfolding before him only through a haze, yet his heart nearly skipped a beat at the sight.

Elvëa was standing upright the rusty nail again in her hand. She had her hand raised high in the air again, poised to strike the dark haired Elf-lord standing right in front of her.

Again, her hand was caught in mid-air and with a strong push Elrond shoved the skinny woman back toward the opposite wall. Glorfindel and Elvëa uttered a cry at the same time.

Outwardly untouched by this, Elrond raised his right hand and Glorfindel instantly knew what would happen next. Elrond would call upon the power of the ring.

“Release me!” Glorfindel growled when Erestor again grabbed his left elbow. Ignoring the comment and the Vanya´s flashing eyes, Erestor only tightened his hold. Unable to escape, Glorfindel could only watch on in horror.

Before Elvëa had regained her balance, the Ring of Air unveiled itself on Elrond´s finger. A blue light was instantly spreading and covering every part of the small room. Quickly the light increased in intensity and soon Glorfindel had to shield his eyes.

Only Elrond seemed to be unfazed by the shining beam now directed against Elvëa. An unearthly cry came from the she-elf while she was again pushed back against the wall. Glorfindel cracked open an eye and observed in shock how Elvëa was changing under the impact of pure energy.

All what had made her elf-like, her long golden hair, her fine features, her slim appearance seemed to inflate, to waver. Her face was contorted in rage and pain until nothing was left that was making her a living being.

Glorfindel had closed his eyes and slumped to his knees, dragging Erestor down with him. He no longer wanted witness how the power of the ring was destroying the one woman he had really loved.

He remained a little longer in this position until he heard an odd grating noise. Lifting his head, he scrambled back. The light had vanished, yet the slumped body of Elvëa had begun to decompose.

Within seconds nothing more then a thin layer of dust was left.

Weakened from the blood loss and shock he sank to the ground and placing his head on the cold stone floor, his gaze was directed at nothing until unconsciousness took him.

……………………………………………..

Vairë was looking at the scene she had just woven into her tapestry, yet the scene felt unreal, as if someone else had guided her hand. She had not been aware of the scene unfolding, nor had she intended what had come out of it.

This concept was new to her and strange. She had ever been the creator of all the fates of their children but this life line had totally developed on its own and even the end was not her making.

She shook her head, sadness and anger duelling in her mind. How could the fate of this poor soul have gone astray this much without her noticing it? She had never had the chance to interfere.

“It’s not your fault, my love.”

The thought was suddenly in her mind. Not having recognized her spouse´s approach Vairë was surprised a second time in a row.

“Off course it is my fault,” she retorted more vehemently then she intended.

Námo was gliding closer. He enveloped his mate in his light blue, his shining aura placating her churned up mind. He was as agitated as his wife, because something like that had not happened before.

Some major evil had invaded this life line and created all this horror. Not really feeling any regret the Valier nonetheless felt some kind of responsibility. Even if Vairë had interfered, she could no longer take any influence on the developing fate. She had hoped for some positive effect from their favourite elf, but even mighty Glorfindel could not reverse what had been done.

Sadly, Vairë ended the thread of Elvëa´s life and made a knot at the end.

“One thing we can do at long last,” Námo announced. For the first time Vairë smiled knowing what her husband was talking about.

He would lift the ban, and the poor soul would finally find her way home. Vairë was already informing her sister Nienna to take all sorrow from the she elf´s shoulders and give Elvëa the peace she had long deserved.

…………………………………………………

Elrond looked with worry at the rigid back of his counsellor. Glorfindel was leaning seemingly casually at the doorframe of the great window opening up the Hall of Fire to the grand garden. For an ingenuous onlooker, a normal scene, but to the trained healer’s eye, Glorfindel was the image of a wounded soul.

The bodily wound Elvëa had inflicted was long healed, yet the scar on the soul of the proud warrior would need much more time to heal and it remained to be seen if it would heal at all.

Elrond had been shocked to find his counsellor again at the brink of death after another attack by the woman they had a second time underestimated. Their ruse to kill her and let her die in peace had failed. Now it was clear that a strong magic was behind all this and only an equal riposte could free them of whatever the Istari had placed in the body of this woman.

After Glorfindel´s recovery, Elrond had long tried to reason with the warrior, yet every word of reason or comfort had only proved that his counsellor had receded deeper into himself. Now he did not even respond to anything said to him.

Elrond was not sure what was really going on at the warrior´s mind. He had known the ancient elf now over such a long time but again and again Elrond discovered that there was so much he did not know at all about the Elf-lord.

He was not even sure what had made the elf react as he did. Was he mourning, was he angry, hurt, embarrassed – all of them or none?

Elrond still had major doubts that the woman now crumbled to dust had really been Elvëa. He still believed that she was an apparition the Istari had conjured up to reach and hurt them at last. How this had been possible would forever remain a mystery.

The question that was running in his mind, however, was where the soul of Elvëa had vanished to? Or had her intellect never existed, replaced from the beginning with this demon they had discovered many nights ago? Questions to which Elrond could find no answer.

But was it not foolish to think about it at all? Elvëa was gone and nothing would bring her back. It was a simple as that.

Yet even Elrond could not stop thinking about the mysterious appearance of the elf woman. Had they all suffered an illusion and only seen what they wanted to see? Or had Elvëa really suffered all this imaginable long time at the hand of the Istari only to be used to bring harm to them?

As assured as Elrond was, he no longer knew what he should think. Glorfindel´s strong reaction to this woman could not only be ascribed to an infamous sorcerer’s plot. Glorfindel was intelligent and smart, ever immune to every influence from the outside – however good or bad it might be.

Had his sharp mind be mistaken this time, or had Elvëa simply

been his soul´s mate and they had done her a great wrong?

Again, Elrond shook his head. How could he comfort his friend when doubts were relentlessly gnawing at his own mind?

Yet a solution had to be found. All was long prepared to depart – many of the inhabitants of Imladris were really on edge about the long expected, but ever delayed departure. Elrond knew he had to give the signal for the departure soon. He wanted to avoid a breaking apart of all the carefully made plans and schedules. He had after all more souls than one to care for, yet…..

“Glorfindel…”

The name had barely left his lips when the golden haired warrior whirled around.

“Elrond, stop skirting around me as if I could break apart at every moment. And my answer is still no. I will not come with you.”

Not leaving the dark haired elf the tiniest chance to react in any way, Glorfindel turned and left the room.

To be continued…….