In The Storm’s Wake
Standing on the balcony outside of his personal quarters, overlooking the valley, Elrond struggled to determine what was causing such a feeling of foreboding. The storm that had raged the night before could have possibly been the source of his discomfort, but somehow, the elf lord didn’t believe that.
The apprehension had begun the day before, sometime around the midday meal. Elrond was often plagued with such feelings, especially since darkness had descended on Middle Earth once again. But, this seemed different to him. More personal.
As he stood overlooking the garden beneath his window, he couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty that the night’s rain had produced. Granted, Imladris was a beautiful, relaxing place to begin with but the rains had seemed to almost rejuvenate the trees and flowers filling the garden. The colors seemed even more vibrant and the leaves of the trees seemed to quiver with a pleasure that the moisture had provided. Even the birds that dotted the trees and filled the air with song seemed happier. It was only Elrond who felt the unease that was looming.
The storm had burst onto the valley like a wave upon the sand. It had hit with such ferocity that it had almost taken the elven community by surprise. Naturally they had known the storm was coming and that it would be quite large, but the force it had hit with surpassed what even they had expected. It was fortunate that the valley hadn’t sustained any damage from the forceful winds and pounding rain. It was also surprising that the valley seemed so peaceful merely two hours after the storm had subsided.
Now as Elrond stood staring at the sunlight reflecting off the puddles of rainwater the unease of his thoughts suppressed the peace of the valley.
Morning meal was scheduled to be served shortly and the elf lord was looking forward to breaking fast with his sons. Elladan and Elrohir would, in all probability, be out checking with the guards and settlers throughout Imladris ensuring that all was well following the night’s activities. However, they would do all in their power to meet with their father for meals.
Turning quickly from the balcony, his long blue robes swishing around his feet, Elrond made his way back into his quarters toward his bedroom door. Having his twins back at home was always a cause for happiness as far as Elrond was concerned. So frequently now were they out with the rangers or securing the forests around the valley that the elf lord rarely got to see them. They had grown so quickly, that would probably seem an absurd statement considering their age, but if he could have them as elflings forever he would not hesitate at the offer.
Exiting his room, he was not surprised to be greeted by Erestor, the ever faithful advisor always seemed to be able to predict what it was that Elrond was in need or want of.
"Your sons have not yet returned my Lord."
"Thank you Erestor, and Glorfindel?"
"He left with Elladan and Elrohir, I suspect he will return with them as well."
The Elf Lord and Advisor made their way through spacious, airy hallways into the direction of the dining hall. Others would be awaiting to partake of the morning meal with the Lord of Imladris and his family and he did not want to keep them waiting. As they walked they continued to talk of the results of the last nights storm. There had fortunately been no injuries or severe structural damage, the flora and fauna of the valley had also survived unscathed. Overall, it appeared that the storms bark was worse than its bight and Elrond was grateful for that.
As he entered the dining hall and made his way toward his seat at the head of the table, the elf lord greeted the other elves who had met for the meal. Whether by gentle touches on shoulders or quiet words, Elrond acknowledged each elf present. Taking his seat, he looked around the room and noted that neither of the twins were present. He stalled briefly, but unable to wait any longer, motioned to the staff to start serving.
No sooner had he flicked his hand to the head server than the dining hall doors were flung open revealing a very agitated Elladan. "FATHER! Come quick." The dark elf didn’t enter the hallway, but stood in the doorway, a look of fear etched onto his face.
Elrond jumped from his seat, causing his chair to skid several feet away from the dining table. Without any word to the other diners and without questioning his oldest son, the elf lord moved swiftly and gracefully back around the table and followed Elladan out into the hall.
"What has happened?" His words were rushed. Worry raging inside of him. Elladan had left with Elrohir, was the younger twin injured somehow.
"It is Estel." Came Elladan’s reply.
These words caught Elrond off guard and the Lord of Imladris froze in his steps trying to grasp what had just been revealed to him. Estel was traveling with Legolas to the west, he wasn’t due back for weeks. "Estel? Has something ill befallen him? He is not due to return for some time."
Elladan reached to grab his Father’s arm and nudge him once again into action. "He was discovered just within the borders of Imladris riding slowly upon the back of an unknown horse. He is unresponsive and wounded." Panic was evident in Elladan’s voice. "Elrohir has taken him to the healing wing, Glorfindel is inspecting the horse."
This explained the discomfort that Elrond had been experiencing for nearly a day now. He had not suspected that it would be Estel in harm. He had not foreseen any danger when the pair had left Imladris several weeks before and knew that they could handle that which came their way. They were both very capable and experienced and Elrond had little cause to worry for them overly much.
Thoughts of the Mirkwood Prince brought the young elf to the forefront of Elrond’s mind. "What of Legolas?"
"I know not father. Estel was alone." Elladan led his father into the healing wing and to where his brothers would be waiting.
Had Elrond not been an experienced healer and had many years of practice he would have been shocked by the sight that greeted him. Estel looked near dead, his face more pale than that of even the fairest elf. Dark circles and a deep bruising of his left jaw contrasted heavily against the whitened complexion. The young man lay on his right side, two arrows imbedded in his back, both having been snapped off several inches from the penetration point. The first buried deep in his left shoulder, the second in his right lower back.
"What in all of Middle Earth..." Elrond stopped himself as he stepped to his son’s bedside and began to look closer at the wounds. He placed his hand over Estel’s heart and closed his eyes. The man’s heart beat softly but steadily, his breathing coming in somewhat hitched. Without opening his eyes his slid his hand to Estel’s brow, fever raged and sweat beaded beneath his steady palm.
Opening his eyes once again, he stared intently at the pale face and tried to read that which he could from his foster son’s appearance. He rose and turned to his twins, he smiled weakly then moved on to the herb table just off to the side of the bed. As he pulled down tools and herbs, subconsciously mixing those things that he knew the young man would need, he began to speak with his sons, gathering what information he could.
"Were the arrows snapped off when you found him."
"Aye." Elrohir answered.
"Was there any sign of the Prince?"
"Nay." Elladan this time.
"Could he have returned to Mirkwood without our knowledge? Could he be somewhere within Imladris without us knowing of his return?"
The pair thought about this for a moment and then Elrohir answered questioningly. "It is possible, although unlikely, he would not have left Estel in such a condition. It would take the strength of the Gods to pull him from Estel’s side, injured as he is."
"Then it is necessary for us to determine what has become of him." Elrond turned back to the bed of his unconscious charge and slowly rolled the man onto his stomach. Taking a sharp healer’s knife from the bedside table, he cut Estel’s dirtied tunic away revealing the arrow wounds more clearly.
Infection had begun to appear on the edges of the injuries and the skin puckered around the broken shafts. If not for Elrond’s many years of experience treating such injuries he was sure he would have swooned at what he saw. The arrowheads needed to be removed forcefully even after the healer had cut the infected flesh surrounding them. A pungent aroma assaulted his senses as he began to cleanse the wounds and his stomach rolled slightly.
Elrond lifted his head from his patient and he took a deep breath. "Estel will not wake for some time, he is lost in fever, and I fear that is the only way we will truly know what has happened." He paused briefly to think of the next best course of action. A moan of discomfort rose from the young man and Elrond quickly returned his attention to the injuries. "Send a message to Mirkwood. Inform Thranduil what has happened and inquire as to the presence of Legolas. Send our fastest rider. Time is of the essence." As he spoke and thought, his hands moved about the injuries, working as if of their own accord.
The twins listened closely to their father’s words and watched his movements even closer, their own faces paling at the sight before them. Sorrow and concern in both of their faces.
"If the message must be delivered quickly, perhaps it is best if we are to use one of the birds." Suggested Elladan, stepping closer to his foster brother’s bedside.
"Make it so." Before the elf lord could continue, the healing room door swung open to reveal a very straight faced blonde elf lord.
Glordindel stepped quickly into the room and to Estel’s bedside. He placed a gentle hand on the back of the young man’s head and looked to Elrond for quiet confirmation of his condition. The two exchanged no words, just brief glances and nods.
"The horse reveals nothing. I can tell not where it has come from nor how Estel came across it. Nor can I be sure if the Prince was ever in its company." Glorfindel was confident in his assessment albeit vague and sketchy.
Without looking up from his patient Elrond continued to issue orders. "Send the message and then the three of you must take out patrols and circle Imladris in search of Legolas. We cannot await word from Thranduil if there is a possibility he is out there. Especially if Estel’s condition has any telling on how his may be."
"Yes father." The twins answered simultaneously then each stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on their brother. A silent shudder consumed the injured man and he groaned quietly with the comforting touch. With a silent prayer to the Valar for Estel and Legolas the three quickly departed the healing wing.
Once into the hall, the three separated, going in different directions. They would meet again in the stables with their respective patrols once preparations had been made and set out in search of the lost Prince. There was hope that Legolas had returned home to Mirkwood without their knowledge. However, if he was out there, they wanted to find him before someone else did or before death took him.