Spring In Rivendell

The Lady of the Golden Wood grinned as she looked over the last of the preparations. Everything was ready, and soon Elrond’s children would be hers…as would the life of his little whore.

The trap had been set with the utmost care. Erestor was nearly eleven months pregnant, and he spent almost all his time in his rooms resting, eating, or sleeping. The stress of carrying twins taxed his small body greatly, and he very rarely left the warm haven of Elrond’s bed. The small family had been ecstatic when they had discovered that the dark elf carried twins. Galadriel had nearly beheaded her informant when she had received the news. She had bided her time, waiting and planning, and now it was time to set everything into motion.

The contingent of advisors traveling from Mirkwood to Imladris had never suspected the attack that had overtaken them. The strike had been calculated and perfected until the men executing the raid did so with absolute surety. As planned, nearly all in the party were terribly wounded, but none were dead. The amount of injuries ensured that none would be able to leave the sight under there own power, except for one. A fleet footed scout, the only one left uninjured, made haste to Imladris to bring his Lord. Only Lord Elrond and his top healers would be able to fix this mess.

Galadriel left the scene in her mind and opened her eyes to gaze on the gardens of Rivendell from her hiding place. Soon, the Lord and his Seneschal would leave to treat the wounded, and Erestor would be left unprotected.

*********************************

The scout from the injured party trembled in exhaustion as he was laid upon a bed in the healing wing. He was still relating the specifics of the attack and the position of the party in relation to Imladris as he was checked over by healers. Elrond frowned, listening to the ravages that had devastated the sizable group.

“My Lord, so many are injured. Grave wounds and broken bones. They need help!”

Elrond nodded and gestured for Glorfindel to follow him out of the healing room, along with his contingent of advisors. “I am going to aid the party,” Elrond stated. “You three,” he indicated with a wave of his hand toward the highest of his advisors besides Erestor, “will run things until I return. Glorfindel, you will come with me. I want you to pick out the best scouts and warriors we have. I will not be ambushed on my way to aid the injured.” Glorfindel nodded and diverged from the group to head in the direction of the barracks. “You,” he waved his hand again, indicating a senior healer that also acted as a councilor, “will gather the healers we will need. I want them all to have some training with sword, bow, or any weapon for that matter.” The healer nodded and turned back to the healing wing. He finished doling out assignments to his entourage, and the Lord made his way to the rooms he shared with Erestor and Glorfindel.

Erestor blinked sleepily as Elrond entered the room in a huff. Immediately, he moved to the wardrobe to pull out both his and Glorfindel’s traveling packs. Erestor pulled himself into a sitting position with some difficulty, feeling the strain in his back before he relaxed back into the pillows.

“Going somewhere?” he questioned quietly.

Elrond blinked and looked up from his packing, as if just realizing that someone else was in the room. He left his bags and sat on the side of the bed with his beloved husband, pulling the heavily pregnant elf into his arms.

“There is a party of heavily injured elves along the borders that needs my help. I will be leaving as soon as possible to aid them.”

Erestor looked worried. “Will you be gone long?” he asked as he rubbed his swollen abdomen.

Elrond placed his hands over Erestor’s and sent a small tendril of healing energy into him to sooth his sore back and aching body. “I promise I will be home before your time has come. I would not have you bear my children alone.”

“So Glorfindel goes with you?”

“Yes. Celeborn will look after you until we return.”

Erestor smiled. He had been spending quite a bit of time with the elder elf since he had come to live in Imladris, and they had become fast friends. “Hurry back to me,” he demanded as he pressed a kiss to Elrond’s lips.

“I promise.”

***********************************

As Elrond, Glorfindel, and their company of warriors and healers rode out of sight, Galadriel shifted in her hiding place. The vial of potion she held in her hand sparkled in the sunlight. Long had she worked to perfect the concoction, testing it over and over on various subjects, usually with undesirable results. Finally, after many days of toil, the creation was perfect. She popped the wax sealed cork out of the bottle, and quickly downed the contents. She waited, standing perfectly still, and added her magical energy at just the right moment. The Lady pulled a small mirror from her pocket, and viewed her new features in the reflective surface.

The face of her former son-in-law stared back at her. Donned in clothes she had modeled after Elrond’s she looked like a carbon copy of the Lord of Imladris. The Lady turned Lord exited her hiding place, and walked determinedly to the Last Homely House.

***********************************

“Elrond!” Glorfindel called over the pounding of hooves. The dark-haired Lord slowed his beast down and came level with his Seneschal.

“I’m turning back,” Glorfindel stated.

“What? Why? I need you here!”

“I need to go back. I don’t know why, but I need to.”

“Glorfindel, you are needed-”

“Back at home,” Glorfindel cut him off. “Please. I’m asking you as your husband. I need to go home. Please,” he said as he clasped Elrond’s arm.

Elrond nodded. “Go then. Send another few warriors after us once you are home to make up for your loss.”

Glorfindel nodded, leaned over and kissed his husband’s cheek, and turned his horse around.

*************************************

Galadriel made her way through the house, getting a few confused looks from the staff, but no-one stopped her. She merely smiled at them and continued on her way. Her target was so close. Elrond’s suite stood at the end of the hall.

************************************

Glorfindel urged his horse faster and faster, the feeling of dread rising uncontrollably within his breast. He had to get home. He had to.

************************************

Galadriel opened the door slowly, and gazed around the room, eyes coming to rest upon the bed and its occupant. She pushed the door open completely, and after closing and locking it made her way to the side of the bed. Her guise had worked. She had obtained her goal: getting to Erestor.

The ellian was deeply asleep, his eyes closed as his body used most of its energy to nurture his children. The Lady slowly worked a thin length of rope around Erestor’s hands, careful to not wake him. Once the rope was secure, she jerked his hands up and tied them to the head board above his head in a quick, practiced movement before the dark-haired elf could comprehend what was happening.

“Elrond?” Erestor asked sleepily. Blinking his eyes clear as he looked upon the visage of his husband. “What are you doing here? I thought you left for the borders. What are you doing?” he queried as he pulled experimentally at the ropes around his wrists.

Galadriel threw back the blankets and repeated the procedure with Erestor’s legs while he lay with a quizzical _expression on his face. “My love? What are you doing?” Erestor shook his head, trying to clear away the cobwebs of sleep and confusion. His mind was muddled as he grew closer to his due date, the pressure of carrying twins, and peredhil twins at that, was taxing the limits of both his body and mind.

His mind cleared quite a bit when a knife suddenly flashed in ‘Elrond’s’ hand. He struggled more intensely, fear now motivating his actions. “Elrond? Elrond please answer me! What are you doing? You’re scaring me!” Galadriel pulled a short silk scarf from another pocket and crammed it into Erestor’s mouth as the small elf fought for freedom. She tied it into place with another piece of silk so the pregnant elf would not be able to call for help…and any screams would be greatly muffled.

Galadriel raised Erestor’s sleeping shirt to expose his ponderous belly, bringing the knife to the stretched, nearly translucent skin.

*************************************

Glorfindel charged through the House, knocking over servants and a great deal of furniture to get to his husband as fast as he could. Something was wrong. Very wrong. A wave of absolute terror and agonizing pain washed through him, bringing the golden elf to his knees. He staggered back to his feet, intent on getting to Erestor immediately.

**************************************

Elrond gasped as fear and pain whirled through his mind. The rescue party stopped and looked upon their Lord in a worried fashion. One healer immediately rode forward to steady Elrond as he tottered on his horse.

“I have to get home.”

**************************************

Glorfindel rammed into the door to his suite as he turned the handle, finding the door locked.

“Open the door! Erestor! Can you hear me?! Open the door!” No sounds came from inside, and the fear within the reborn warrior reached a fever pitch. He stepped back and kicked the door with all his might. It splintered off its hinges and he pushed it the rest of the way open, drawing his sword as he stepped inside to hear the wail of a newborn fill the air.

Glorfindel nearly lost all control when he saw the blood spattered bed, but he reigned in his temper. He did not want to accidentally harm his husband, or, from the sound of it, his children.

“Elrond?!” Glorfindel’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of his Lord sitting on the edge of the bed, blood covering his hands and the front of his clothes. Erestor lay tied to the head and foot boards, and a crying, shivering babe lay on the bed beside him. His face was deathly white, and his eyes were filled with stark panic and torment. ‘Elrond’ stood and pulled his sword where it hung strapped to his back, coming at Glorfindel in one swift, smooth movement.

Glorfindel barely got past his surprise fast enough to bring up his own weapon to defend himself. Metal clanged and Glorfindel was forced back by the charge, unprepared as he was. He recovered quickly and blocked the next attack and the next, quickly realizing that although this creature wore Elrond’s face, this was not his husband. It fought nothing like Elrond, and its eyes showed not the loving regard he was so accustomed to, but hatred that he felt deep within his soul.

They exchanged blows at a fast pace, Glorfindel barely keeping up with his attacker. It was not long before the golden warrior was disarmed. Glorfindel evaded a swipe to his middle, and made a grab for the dagger that rested on the mantle piece. The same dagger that Elrond had asked Glorfindel to end his life with many months ago. Glorfindel swung the dagger, praying to the Valar for the miracle…and he received one.

The dagger hit home, burying itself deep into ‘Elrond’s’ abdomen. Glorfindel released his hold on the weapon and stepped back, looking at his bloodied hands in disbelief. The creature’s eyes showed shock and not a little anger as it sank to its knees, hands holding the dagger in place. It finally slumped over to the side, lying on the floor in a pool of blood.

Glorfindel shivered, tears of shock coursing down his face. He stood in stupefied silence for a moment, until the frightened wail of the babe brought him back to his senses. He abandoned the body on the floor and flew to Erestor’s side. He worked quickly at undoing the ties on his husband’s hands and feet, and he released the gag. Erestor looked up at his beloved with haggard eyes. “I love you,” he whispered in a voice hoarse from screaming. Glorfindel started sobbing as he crammed a piece of bedding to the gaping wound in Erestor’s abdomen. He was a warrior. He knew how devastating a gut wound could be. Especially for one already weakened by carrying two large, half-elven twins inside of him. The baby still screamed and fussed where it lay next to Erestor, and the dark elf tried to reach down to pick up the child.

Glorfindel stopped him with a gentle hand to his chest. “Don’t,” he said through his sobs. “You’ll aggravate your wound. We need to get you to the healers.”

“He’s a month early, Glorfindel,” Erestor whispered. “He needs a healer as much as I do.” He put his hands over Glorfindel’s. “There is still the other within me. Make sure they live. Please do this for me.” His hands fell away as they lost their strength. “I love you, my husband. Tell Elrond I love him, too. Make sure my children know that I love them. So much.” His voice faded, his eyes fluttered closed, and Glorfindel panicked. He released the compress in favor of grabbing Erestor’s shoulders and shaking him.

“ERESTOR!!! DAMMIT, DON’T YOU LEAVE ME!!”

The ruckus had finally brought someone to the room, and Glorfindel looked up as he heard their stifled gasps of horror.

“GO GET THE HEALERS NOW!!!” he roared as he resumed trying to wake Erestor.

***********************************

Elrond galloped back to Imladris at an insane pace, praying for the Valar to guide his horse’s hooves. He had to get home.