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Disclaimer: Middle earth and all of the characters
associated with the Lord of the Rings are the creations of J.R.R. Tolkien and
are not mine. I do not own them.
Rating: Pg for the most part. Some parts are
probably Pg-13 for violence and major angst.
Warnings: None yet, but I will let you know.
Spoilers: This is a sequel to The Choices We Make,
so if you haven’t read the first one you might be a little confused at the
beginning. But you have my welcome to read it anyway! :)
Author’s note: Well everyone here is your sequel!
I told you I was not as evil as you thought I was. Did I hear the words season
final cliffhanger? At least you do not have to wait an entire season break.
I put Legolas through 19 chapters of hell in the last
story. Lets see how many I can rival it this time. And the votes are in…
Elrond and Thranduil’s lazy bottoms are going to join the fun! Boy did they
ever wonder across the wrong author… actually Thranduil was going to be a part
of this story anyway. I just wanted to know whom else you wanted.
Is everyone ready for another chase?
“A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own.”
-Thomas Mann
*********
Floating…
No, he was falling…
Falling…
Falling in an empty abyss devoid of light.
His mind felt scattered and confused.
Images painfully drifted just out of his reach.
Why could he not hold onto any?
A house… weather vane… sunlight…
They were right there!
Why would they not come closer?
The images began to be pushed even farther away by a white mist. A thick fog slowly began to fill his mind.
Why was this familiar also?
One thing he did know… he was afraid.
Of what?
Not for himself.
Fear drove the damping fog back as well as the familiar and distant images. As his mind slowly pushed up through the heavy curtain another sensation came to him.
Pain.
His head was on fire! At least he thought is was his head. The intensity grew to overwhelm the fog.
The pain he felt combined with the fear shot his mind up out of the gloom.
His mind snapped back into wakefulness with such force his body convulsed in pain and shock.
As Elrond Peredhil shot bolt upright his head connected with a surprised Celaviel’s nose and she fell backwards as he came forwards.
Celaviel hit the floor as Elrond sat up. She recovered quickly and, holding her nose, sat back up. She was too relieved to have Elrond awake to mind being smacked in the nose. Her joy was short lived, though, as she saw the confusion in his grey eyes.
“My lord?”
Elrond did not seem to hear her and his eyes held no recognition in them.
“Elrond,” she asked more forcefully, “can you hear me?”
The Lord of Imladris looked to the elf maid almost franticly. Celaviel was becoming very unnerved by his searching look. She desperately hoped that whatever had happened had not just addled her lord’s brain. He continued to look around confusedly, looking like he was about to bolt like a frightened hare anytime. To where she could only guess.
Celaviel, fighting the urge to just slap him, desperately grabbed a hold of Elrond’s face forcing him to look at her.
“It is alright, mellonamin,” she began steadily and slowly, “you are safe here. I do not know what you saw, but it is over.”
//my friend//
Elrond seemed to focus on her voice and appeared to calm considerably. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing.
The two sat that way in silence for a while until Elrond finally opened his eyes. His head was throbbing so bad that he could not keep the strain out of his eyes. Celaviel definitely saw this and she saw something else as well. Her lord’s eyes held a strange and unrecognizable glint to them that was unsettling to her.
Elrond stood suddenly breaking her contact with him.
“Are you well? What happened? Are you alright? Were are you going?” she asked following Elrond as he left the room.
“My lord?” she asked when he took no notice of her.
Celaviel was right on Elrond’s heels as he stalked down the hallway.
“My lord? Elrond, stop! Elrond!”
Celaviel halted as Elrond walked into his chambers and closed the door abruptly on her. What in Middle Earth was going on? Elrond was usually not so distant and he had never ignored her before. She was one of Rivendell’s resident healers after all. She stood worriedly outside the door. If only Glorfindel or one of his children were here to follow him in there. Celaviel did not feel comfortable leaving Elrond alone right now, but she could not bring herself to enter in there without his consent. She decided then that she would if the situation required it, though.
Celaviel knocked quietly on the door and called to Elrond. When she received no response she tried again, but louder.
She would wake all of Rivendell up if she must.
********
Elrohir cradled Glorfindel all the way. This could not be happening. The golden-haired elf was still hanging on, but Elrohir had serious doubts if he would make it through the rest of the day.
What would his father do if Glorfindel died now?
Elrohir did not even want to think about it. He pressed down on the wound even harder. It would not end like this. He heard Elladan finally give up talking and he became silent.
The room fell deathly silent.
For Aragorn the silence was too much. He found himself trembling now. The coldness from that spectral witch had finally worn off, but the strain was taking its toll. The constant stress and no respite from the last few days were finally boiling over. Legolas was gone, Glorfindel could very well die soon, and he was to blame. Aragorn was so tired of all of it. So very tired…
The trembling only became worse and all clear rational thoughts were becoming far in between. Aragorn’s nerves could not take anymore. It was just too much. Too much…
Aragorn rose numbly to his feet. He really did not know where he was going or the fact that he was rising did not seem real.
He was tired of it all…
Too much…
Aragorn watched as Elladan rose as well. He thought his brother might be saying something to him, but he could not hear it over the pounding of his own heart. The ranger just looked at the elf as if he were speaking a language he did not understand.
Too much…
Tired…
Elladan’s look became more concerned when his little brother seemed not to hear him. The young human’s eyes were glazed over and stared at him almost distantly. Elladan stepped in just as Aragorn’s eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed. The elf caught his brother and gritted his teeth against the pain it caused to his collarbone. He guided the ranger down to the ground as gently as he could.
Elladan sighed.
That was three people in the last few days he had caught as they passed out.
This was becoming too much of a habit.
Elladan checked over Aragorn and turned to see Elrohir look at him questionably.
“I believe Estel is merely exhausted and who could blame him?”
Elrohir nodded at his brother, relieved that Estel had not received any serious injury that they had not spotted yet. The elf in his arms was enough to worry about right now. They could not risk moving Glorfindel and Elrohir refused to give up his position, so he stayed there.
Thankful for something to do Elladan tended Aragorn’s injures and made his brother comfortable near to Elrohir and Glorfindel. He was just tucking the edges of a cloak around Estel when he faintly heard someone enter the room. He looked up to see Nienor enter and walk towards him. The elf maid was sporting a bruise on her forehead.
Nienor knelt down and looked questionably at the human.
“Is he well?” she asked quietly not wanting to wake the ranger.
Elladan nodded to the she elf.
“Just pushed past his limit I believe. What about you, are you alright?”
Nienor gave the dark-haired elf a hard smile.
“Fine. Thranduil is not going to be pleased about this at all. Legolas woke suddenly and I never expected him to turn on me.”
She shook her head sadly.
“Where does he think he is going?”
“Nienor,” Elladan began hesitantly, “I do not know how to say this, but the Legolas that attacked you may not be the same one you remember.”
The maid cocked her head and looked at Elladan questioningly. Elladan hid a smile as he realized that was the same look Legolas gave him when he was confused.
He told the maid about the suspicions Glorfindel had warned them about before they got here and Elrohir quietly told her about Legolas attacking him when he entered the room. Elladan saw her uncle’s influence as she absorbed the information with a hard casualness. Nienor simply nodded her head when he was through.
“Is there a chance we could,” she paused searching for how to phrase it, “set Legolas aright again? Your father is usually quite confident when it comes to strange situations, do you think he could do something?”
“Mayhap, if anyone could do something it would probably be adar.” //father//
Elladan’s eyes suddenly went wide startling the elf maid in front of him.
“Mani?” she asked worriedly. //what?//
Elladan’s gaze snapped back over to Elrohir.
“Ada,” he reminded his brother.
“I was not paying it much heed while we were fighting,” Elrohir admitted, “but now that you point it out I no longer feel him either.”
Now Elrohir felt sick. First Glorfindel, then Legolas, and now maybe his father.
“I do not understand,” said Nienor.
Elladan recounted their rather insane plan and chase to Nienor. When he was finished it was his turn to look questioningly at her.
“How by Illuvatar did you come to be here?”
Nienor giggled to herself.
“You know my uncle’s ability of patience, especially when it comes to his son. To catch up with you we took the rather suicidal path strait over the mountains. When we entered this land no one wanted to enter the forest, so we skirted the border of it until we came here. The place looked calm when we arrived so I figured the three of you had not reached it yet, so I decided to wait. I am glad we did for I would never have imagined you would walk right up to the front door with all of the orcs there to welcome you!”
“That was Elrohir’s idea, not mine!” Elladan defended.
“I did not force you to do it, besides it was Glorfindel who stood up first,” Elrohir said indignantly.
Elrohir felt the blood flow finally stemming and sighed in relief. He would not except that it was because the older elf was simply running out of it. Either way the wound could be bound now.
“Elladan, come here,” Elrohir called.
Elrohir did not realize that the stress made his tone sound almost pleading. Elladan’s heart skipped a beat and he rose quickly. He went over and knelt down next to his brother.
“Yes Elrohir?” he asked trying to make his voice sound calm.
“The bleeding is starting to slow and I believe we can bind the wound.”
Elladan took a deep breath grateful Elrohir had not told him what he had feared.
The twins, with the aid of the other elves bringing what they needed, bound Glorfindel wound and cleaned the elf up. Glorfindel did not even make a sound while the sons of Elrond tended to him. Neither of them spoke out loud that they feared, that he had lost too much blood and he would never awake again. For the first time in a long while they desperately wanted their father to be here, if the fair-haired elf should die his long time friend should be by his side as well.
Elladan, Elrohir, and Nienor settled down for the long vigil. Other elves gathered quietly in the room to wait and lend support. Glorfindel was well known amongst many of the Silvan elves and respected by all. Estel was sleeping fitfully, but at least he was resting and the twins decided not to wake him unless…
Glorfindel was still deathly pale and his pulse was faint, but al least he was still fighting. Elrohir sat right next to the injured elf. The rise and fall of his chest was too slight to notice with the layers of material he was wrapped him so Elrohir placed his hand underneath them on the older elf’s chest just to make sure. It was comforting to the dark-haired elf to know that his friend still drew breath. And should the dreadful, but not unexpected, come to pass he would know when it happened. Elrohir sighed. This felt too much like the long night of waiting after his mother was brought back to Rivendell. His mother had made it through, though, and he sincerely hoped Glorfindel would as well. One glance at Elladan told him that his brother was thinking along the same line.
Nienor elected not to chase after Legolas for the time being. Her cousin was going who knows where and he might be mad, but at least he was relatively fine, physically anyway. Out of respect she felt their place was here for now. Should it happen, one such as Glorfindel did not deserve to die alone, so… they waited.
“Where do you think Legolas is headed?” Nienor asked quietly some time later.
Elladan shrugged sadly, and then winced. ‘Dolt,’ he scolded himself.
Nienor did not miss the reaction and neither did Elrohir.
“What is broke?” Elrohir asked guessing with the force his brother hit the door that something had to be.
“Nothing serious,” Elladan answered.
“That was not my question Elladan. I will look at it myself if you do not tell me now,” Elrohir pushed.
Elladan was too weary to put up a decent argument with his brother and relented.
“A couple of ribs and I do believe I have cracked my collarbone.”
“You call a broken collarbone not serious!” Elrohir said testily as quietly as he could.
“Shh…” Elladan quieted his brother, “there is nothing to be done about it anyway.”
Before Elrohir moved Nienor cut in.
“I will see to it Elrohir. I am not as knowledgably as either of you when it comes to such things, but I have dealt with my share of broken bones.”
Much to Elladan’s annoyance his ribs where wrapped snugly and, to his greater annoyance, Elrohir insisted that he put his right arm in a sling. After Nienor was finished he looked to Elrohir in irritation.
“Happy now?”
Elrohir hid his smile when Elladan asked him and simply nodded. His brother never was one to undergo patching up quietly. Much like their missing friend he remembered sadly. They would find Legolas he knew. No one had to say it for it was already an unspoken agreement. They would all search for the missing prince eventually, but right now another friend was in greater need of their support. And so they waited…
Dusk settled over the land of Angmar and darkness began to spread across the land. The land was by far pleasant as the sun sunk below the horizon, but some of the oppressiveness usually present at nightfall was lifted with the passing of the fiend who had held an iron grip over the place.
At the time Elladan had taken Elrohir’s place to give his brother a break. He kept the arm not in a sling resting on the Glorfindel’s chest. Still the elf barely clung to this world, but he was hanging on.
Estel had not awoke all day, so exhausted was the ranger.
Nienor was sitting next to the young human keeping a watchful eye.
Elrohir stood and stretched out his legs. He desperately wished they could camp outside of the dreadful tower, but Glorfindel would not survive the move.
The sound of some sort of commotion outside brought everyone’s head up. Something was happening outside, but the voices where not alarmed or frightened.
Elladan raised a delicate eyebrow at his bother that happened to be standing.
Elrohir shrugged and walked over to the window to see what was transpiring. Nienor and Elladan stared on in confusion when Elrohir’s face paled somewhat.
“Mani naa ta?” Elladan asked at his brother’s reaction.
//What is it?//
“Do you remember when you said you would grovel at Thranduil’s feet for the aid?”
“Ays,” Elladan began slightly confused, “Mankoi?” //yes / why?//
Elrohir swallowed and turned to face Elladan.