I looked over the post a while ago, and felt that I should put a bit more into it. Not much, but a little more different. More is on the way, and the wait will not be as long as it has been before. Thank you for all the excellent comments! :) Oh, for those of you who are Glor fans, check out www.geocities.com/queen_of_the_night_jewel/Glorfindel_Shrine.html
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Elrond had ridden to Rivendell upon Toron, though he had wished to follow after the orcs that had taken his best friend. But he knew that to be a foolish notion, as he was wounded. He had sent search parties out, and then had allowed a healer to look upon his wound. It had not been deep, and after treating and bandaging it, he rode out again the next morning. For three days they had looked for the orcs, and only found traces of them. There had been no hope by the end of the third day that they would find Glorfindel, yet Elrond could feel that he was still alive. Then they had found him.
The orcs had abandoned the golden haired Elf, who had been near death at the time, in a small clearing. Elrond had been the first to find him, and that memory was forever burned in his mind.
Many of them had given up hope, and even his sons' faiths waned. But he had continued, his soul burning with some pain that was not entirely his own. He knew not when he had left the group behind, but he had, and had come upon the clearing alone.
Remnants of a camp remained, but that was not what had drawn his attention. It was the being staked to the ground in the middle. He had not been able to see clearly, for the shadows of night were slowly covering over the scene, but he knew it was Glorfindel. He had slowly come forth, his senses picking nothing up but the still figure before him.
Finally he had been able to discern what wounds Glorfindel had physically sustained, and his heart nearly broke under what cruel things he beheld. A rope of thin wire had been tied around the Elf's neck, and lashed into the ground, as were his arms and legs tied by the same thin wire, and lashed to the ground in the same manner, the wires cutting into the pale flesh, drawing forth blood. Wounds lay open and bleeding, a large one upon his shoulder, directly above his heart. Others that were smaller yet just as deep, were scattered across Glorfindel's body. His emerald eyes were closed, and his mouth hung open, his lips a faint shade of blue as his skin was near gray. Kneeling quickly at his friend's side, he took no notice of the blood that seeped into his clothes as he grasped hold of the wire around the Elf's neck. He had cut quickly at the wire, severing it with slight difficulty, and unwrapped it from his friend's throat. He had then set upon reviving his fading friend, pulling forth his healing strength, and lending it to that still heart. It seemed like eternity had past before that heart began to beat again, and Glorfindel began to breath.
"No, no!" Glorfindel had groaned, fighting against the bonds that still held him down, cutting deeper into his wrists and feet.
"You are safe now, Glorfindel," Elrond soothed as he worked quickly at the bonds, severing them before they severed the Elf's limbs to the bone.
"No, no," Glorfindel moaned, his eyes fluttering open, revealing a panicked soul within.
"Shhhh, nîn mell meldir, it shall be well now," Elrond said, cutting the last bond before returning to gently touch his friend's scarred face.
"No, Elrond, no. Let me die," Glorfindel had whispered, his eyes becoming hopeless and forlorn.
"No, Glorfindel, you shall live. Your wounds shall heal," Elrond said softly.
"Nay, nay. Please, Elrond! Let me die!" Glorfindel pleaded, pushing away from Elrond.
Then it seemed as if he had receded back into himself, and he lay, shuddering helplessly in his own blood, his eyes near black with terror, helplessness and pain.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Elrond stirred from his memory just as Glorfindel jerked upon his bed. A low groan came from those pale lips as emerald eyes turned outward from Elven dreams. For a moment, those eyes seemed lost, bewildered, yet, Elrond could see the one he wished to save in those darkened eyes, for that flicker of light within those depths could only be one being.
"Elrond?" Glorfindel called softly, almost as if he distrusted his own voice.
"I am here," Elrond said, coming nearer to the bed.
"What have I done?" Glorfindel whispered, remembered agony echoing in his eyes.
"It was not you," Elrond said softly, knowing in his heart that his Glorfindel would not do what the darkness had made him do.
"Nay, and yet it was. Is Arwen alright?" Glorfindel asked, his eyes filled with worry and grief.
"She will heal," Elrond said, hesitantly laying a hand upon Glorfindel's shoulder to comfort him.
A dark light seemed to come over Glorfindel's eyes at his touch, turning them as hard as stone, "Get your foul hand off me, Half Elven," Glorfindel spat, his voice turning from gentle and worried, to cold as ice.
Elrond did not retreat from that harsh look, but did take his hand from his friend's shoulder, "You have to fight, Glorfindel. Darkness cannot prevail over you."
"What darkness? I see no darkness here except in your foul blood. Get away from me!" Glorfindel snarled.
"This darkness will dispel soon from you, you have only need to fight it," Elrond said softly, placing his hand upon Glorfindel's brow, sending his power to knock the Elf out, before he regained enough power.
"I will kill you, Half Elven..." Glorfindel's voice trailed off as his eyes took on a turned inward look.
"Not before I free you from this darkness, nin meldir," Elrond whispered, his heart clenching in his chest as he resumed his watch.
He did not know how he would be able to free Glorfindel, if the golden haired Elf could not free himself. Elrond had tried what he could, but the darkness seemed so strong. But he would not give up, for he knew Glorfindel would not give up on him if such a thing happened to him, so he could not give up on him. Sitting once more, he sighed softly, and turned his stormy gray eyes upon the resting figure, praying to the Valar for the strength to fight this foul foe that had seized his best friend.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Elrond had ridden to Rivendell upon Toron, though he had wished to follow after the orcs that had taken his best friend. But he knew that to be a foolish notion, as he was wounded. He had sent search parties out, and then had allowed a healer to look upon his wound. It had not been deep, and after treating and bandaging it, he rode out again the next morning. For three days they had looked for the orcs, and only found traces of them. There had been no hope by the end of the third day that they would find Glorfindel, yet Elrond could feel that he was still alive. Then they had found him.
The orcs had abandoned the golden haired Elf, who had been near death at the time, in a small clearing. Elrond had been the first to find him, and that memory was forever burned in his mind.
Many of them had given up hope, and even his sons' faiths waned. But he had continued, his soul burning with some pain that was not entirely his own. He knew not when he had left the group behind, but he had, and had come upon the clearing alone.
Remnants of a camp remained, but that was not what had drawn his attention. It was the being staked to the ground in the middle. He had not been able to see clearly, for the shadows of night were slowly covering over the scene, but he knew it was Glorfindel. He had slowly come forth, his senses picking nothing up but the still figure before him.
Finally he had been able to discern what wounds Glorfindel had physically sustained, and his heart nearly broke under what cruel things he beheld. A rope of thin wire had been tied around the Elf's neck, and lashed into the ground, as were his arms and legs tied by the same thin wire, and lashed to the ground in the same manner, the wires cutting into the pale flesh, drawing forth blood. Wounds lay open and bleeding, a large one upon his shoulder, directly above his heart. Others that were smaller yet just as deep, were scattered across Glorfindel's body. His emerald eyes were closed, and his mouth hung open, his lips a faint shade of blue as his skin was near gray. Kneeling quickly at his friend's side, he took no notice of the blood that seeped into his clothes as he grasped hold of the wire around the Elf's neck. He had cut quickly at the wire, severing it with slight difficulty, and unwrapped it from his friend's throat. He had then set upon reviving his fading friend, pulling forth his healing strength, and lending it to that still heart. It seemed like eternity had past before that heart began to beat again, and Glorfindel began to breath.
"No, no!" Glorfindel had groaned, fighting against the bonds that still held him down, cutting deeper into his wrists and feet.
"You are safe now, Glorfindel," Elrond soothed as he worked quickly at the bonds, severing them before they severed the Elf's limbs to the bone.
"No, no," Glorfindel moaned, his eyes fluttering open, revealing a panicked soul within.
"Shhhh, nîn mell meldir, it shall be well now," Elrond said, cutting the last bond before returning to gently touch his friend's scarred face.
"No, Elrond, no. Let me die," Glorfindel had whispered, his eyes becoming hopeless and forlorn.
"No, Glorfindel, you shall live. Your wounds shall heal," Elrond said softly.
"Nay, nay. Please, Elrond! Let me die!" Glorfindel pleaded, pushing away from Elrond.
Then it seemed as if he had receded back into himself, and he lay, shuddering helplessly in his own blood, his eyes near black with terror, helplessness and pain.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Elrond stirred from his memory just as Glorfindel jerked upon his bed. A low groan came from those pale lips as emerald eyes turned outward from Elven dreams. For a moment, those eyes seemed lost, bewildered, yet, Elrond could see the one he wished to save in those darkened eyes, for that flicker of light within those depths could only be one being.
"Elrond?" Glorfindel called softly, almost as if he distrusted his own voice.
"I am here," Elrond said, coming nearer to the bed.
"What have I done?" Glorfindel whispered, remembered agony echoing in his eyes.
"It was not you," Elrond said softly, knowing in his heart that his Glorfindel would not do what the darkness had made him do.
"Nay, and yet it was. Is Arwen alright?" Glorfindel asked, his eyes filled with worry and grief.
"She will heal," Elrond said, hesitantly laying a hand upon Glorfindel's shoulder to comfort him.
A dark light seemed to come over Glorfindel's eyes at his touch, turning them as hard as stone, "Get your foul hand off me, Half Elven," Glorfindel spat, his voice turning from gentle and worried, to cold as ice.
Elrond did not retreat from that harsh look, but did take his hand from his friend's shoulder, "You have to fight, Glorfindel. Darkness cannot prevail over you."
"What darkness? I see no darkness here except in your foul blood. Get away from me!" Glorfindel snarled.
"This darkness will dispel soon from you, you have only need to fight it," Elrond said softly, placing his hand upon Glorfindel's brow, sending his power to knock the Elf out, before he regained enough power.
"I will kill you, Half Elven..." Glorfindel's voice trailed off as his eyes took on a turned inward look.
"Not before I free you from this darkness, nin meldir," Elrond whispered, his heart clenching in his chest as he resumed his watch.
He did not know how he would be able to free Glorfindel, if the golden haired Elf could not free himself. Elrond had tried what he could, but the darkness seemed so strong. But he would not give up, for he knew Glorfindel would not give up on him if such a thing happened to him, so he could not give up on him. Sitting once more, he sighed softly, and turned his stormy gray eyes upon the resting figure, praying to the Valar for the strength to fight this foul foe that had seized his best friend.