Mending a Heart and the Tie that Binds

Chapter 20 – Resolution


Elladan stood before the orc, knowing that there was a good chance he could die but not really caring. He would die saving the one he loved most, so his death would not be in vain. He saw Legolas in his mind’s eye dying painfully in the healing chamber and he felt his grip around the handle of his sword tighten. He may die, but this orc was going with him.

Garg smirked and pulled out a crude looking sword. “Are you ready to die, Elf?”

“Are you?”

Garg laughed. “Ha! You think that you can kill me? You and your pathetic little band of humans? Where are your comrades? I would especially like to see your twin; it would be nice if he could watch me chop you up into little pieces. Do not worry, I wouldn’t kill him. I’d rather leave him alive – secure in the knowledge that his big elvish heart would probably break and he would meet an untimely end anyway.”

“You are such a liar,” Elladan spat. “If what you are saying is true, then why have you come for me? You have already killed the one I love most in the world… just as you promised you would. And yet, you have still come for me.”

Garg had no idea what Elladan was talking about but was thrilled to hear that someone the Rivendell warrior loved had died. He was especially pleased that he had been credited with the murder. Thus, he decided to go along with the elf’s false belief. “I suppose you are right. I did kill your loved one and have still come to kill you. I suppose I am relentless – a monster to the bone. However, I am an orc of my word. If you recall, I told you that I would kill you or someone you loved. I meant to say that I would kill you **and** someone you love. You see, I am honest, but unfortunately not above mistake. I am here to rectify that now.”

“Then come for me,” Elladan hissed, “for it shall be the last thing you will ever do!”

Garg charged at Elladan and their swords met loudly in the air. Garg pushed Elladan’s sword back fiercely and took several swings at the elf’s torso.

Elladan moved out of the way and made a downward slicing motion, cutting Garg’s arm deeply.

“Aaaaaahhhhhh!” Garg screamed more out of anger than pain. “You will pay dearly for that, Elf,” he hissed. “No, no! Stay back!” Garg shouted at some orcs who rushed to his aid. “The elf is mine. Go back to your killing. Destroy every human here!” The orcs nodded and went back to the massive battle that was taking place nearby.

Elladan had been so preoccupied that he hadn’t even noticed what was going on behind him. He turned his attention for a moment and saw that several humans had been killed. Kress, the commander, the chieftain and at least fifteen other humans were battling fiercely. Some orcs had been slain too. Elladan noticed their mangled bodies on the forest floor. His attention had been diverted for too long though and he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his side. “Ai!” he screamed and jumped back, but his reaction was too late. He had been stabbed. In fact, the orc’s knife was sticking out of his side.

“Ha, ha, ha,” Garg laughed. “If you give up now, I will kill you quickly.”

Elladan had never felt such pain before but knew that he could not continue to fight with a knife protruding from his body. So, he grasped the handle and pulled the knife out. His blood spilled onto the ground and he fell to his knees.

In an instant, Garg was by his side. He jerked the bloody knife from Elladan’s hand and held it to his throat. “This was too easy,” Garg quipped. “And it is too bad that I will not be able to torture you just like the female elf that you tried to take from us last summer. I enjoyed watching her suffer very much, and now… I will enjoy slitting your throat and watching you drown in your own blood. Do not fret, it will not take you that long to die. And once you are gone I will ensure that your remains are delivered to your kin. Since we are so close to Rivendell, which I know is your home by the design on your cloak, I will dismember you and scatter bits and pieces of you around the borders of your realm. I will post your head on a stake and adorn it with your entrails. It will be much more fitting than that pretty little necklace you wear around your neck.”

“My necklace?” Elladan muttered with difficulty.

“Aye,” the orc sneered. “How else do you think I could tell you and your twin apart?”

Elladan thought of his beautiful engagement gift from Legolas and felt himself becoming angrier and angrier. He would not die this way. He had to kill this orc, but how? He admonished himself silently for letting his guard down, and knew that he had to gain the upper hand once again. He could feel the blade of the knife cutting into his neck and tried to struggle, but it was no use. Searing pain overtook him and there was nothing he could do. All he could think about was Legolas and how he had failed him.

“Elladan! Elladan!” Elrohir called, appearing out of nowhere.

Garg gasped with horror when Elrohir threw a broad bladed knife at him and struck him in the arm, causing him to fall backwards and release Elladan.

Elladan lay on the ground motionless.

Elrohir dropped to his knees, pulled Elladan into his arms and began to examine his wounds. He noticed that his twin had been stabbed in the side and his neck and been slashed. Elladan was covered in blood. “Elladan… Elladan… you are not dead. Do you hear me? You are not dead! I cannot lose you. Elladan! Elladan!” Elrohir wept, cradling his brother.

“How touching,” Garg said evilly, holding Elrohir’s bloody knife in his hand. “I was going to let you live, but now, I am going to kill you – just like your brother. Perhaps you will prove to be more of a challenge, since killing him was most disappointing.”

Elrohir laid Elladan’s body gently on the ground and stood ready to destroy this orc. He had decided that neither Legolas nor Elladan’s deaths would be in vain; this orc had drawn his last breath. He moved to strike at the orc with his sword but jumped back when an arrow suddenly struck the orc in the shoulder.

Garg screamed.

Elrohir turned to see where the arrow had come from and saw King Thranduil and his father galloping toward him. The king had fired the perforator.

Elrond leapt from his steed. “Elladan?” He began to examine Elladan’s wounds immediately.

“Elrohir, go and help your father. I will deal with this creature.”

“Sire, that is the orc… the one responsible…”

“Say no more,” Thranduil said. “He will die by my hand. Now, go!”

Elrohir joined his father on the ground beside Elladan and realized that his brother wasn’t dead; he was injured and dazed.

Elladan sat up and clutched his throat. Then, he observed his hand and saw that it was covered with blood. “What happened?” Elladan asked.

“You have been wounded by an orc,” Elrond said, wrapping his cloak around Elladan’s body and pressing part of it against his neck to stop the bleeding.

“Is he dead?” Elladan whispered, unable to speak louder.

“Is who dead?” Elrond asked.

“The orc… the orc who…”

“Shh…” Elrond chided gently. “You shouldn’t try to speak.

“King Thranduil is taking care of him,” Elrohir said enthusiastically.

Elladan observed Elrohir’s tear-stained face and injured arm, where he had shot his twin only hours before. Guilt wrenched his heart but he managed to smile faintly. He wiped a remaining tear from Elrohir’s cheek and asked simply, “What happened to your arm?”

Elrohir smiled. “I stood in the way of love and lost.”

Elladan frowned. “Elrohir… I… I am so sorry. I had no right…”

“Shh…” Elrohir said gently. “You had every right. I should not have tried to stop you. I would have done the same thing for Ellaria… it was unfair of me to expect you not to…”

The twins were interrupted by a human’s scream.

“What happened?” Elladan asked, sitting up abruptly and then wincing with pain.

“Another human was killed,” Elrond said gravely. “Elrohir, you are needed on the battlefield; I will join you in just a moment.”

Elrohir nodded. He grasped Elladan’s hand affectionately and raced to the battlefield with his sword in hand.

“Elladan, mount your steed and escape through the woods back to Rivendell. We need more warriors if any of us are to survive. There are too many orcs… we are outnumbered and will not be able to fend them off for much longer.”

“But Father, I am no coward. I should not leave. I should stay here and fight.”

“Elladan, you are in no condition to do battle. You can hardly talk. Plus, we need more warriors. You must ride to Rivendell and…”

“Aaaahhhhhhhhh!” Thranduil’s scream silenced Elrond in mid sentence. In an instant, he was beside the unconscious king’s body.

Garg was smiling. “So, you are still alive,” he said shaking his head, approaching Elladan. “Well, that is something that will change in the very near future.”

Elladan rose to his feet slowly and tried to ignore his pain. He focused on the ugliness of Garg’s face and knew that in the end, the true battle would be between him and this orc. Elladan picked his sword up off of the ground and looked the orc directly in the eyes. “Come for me, then… if you dare!”

Garg charged at Elladan once again and the meeting of their blades resounded in the air.

Elrond called to Thranduil who had been severely injured. He had three poisonous stab wounds to his chest and some blunt-object trauma to his head. He was dying.

Elrond did not know what to do. He needed to rejoin the battle, but could not leave Thranduil unattended. And someone needed to summon more warriors from Rivendell before all was lost. For the first time in all of his years, the Lord of Rivendell could clearly see his end and the end of everyone he held dear. He knew that without a miracle, none of them would be returning home.

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Galadriel opened her eyes slowly and sat up, as she was sprawled across the floor in a most undignified manner. She regarded her surroundings curiously and realized that she was back in the healing chamber in Rivendell. Rising to her feet, she observed the prince, who was lying dead in the bed. The Lady touched the prince’s cold face and shuddered; she had to bring Legolas back. She placed her hands over the prince’s torso once again and tried to find her power within the prince, but to no avail. Their link had been severed – none of her power remained within him.

Consumed with guilt, Galadriel sunk to the floor and began to weep.

“I hope those tears aren’t for my sake,” Legolas said, smiling weakly.

Galadriel looked up and saw the prince sitting up staring at her, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Legolas!” she exclaimed, rushing over to the prince and embracing him. She kissed both of his cheeks and held him so tightly that Legolas could hardly breathe.

He chuckled softly and returned her embrace.

Galadriel, suddenly coming to her senses, released the prince at once, and stood before him with a forlorn expression on her face. “I apologize… that was very… familiar of me.”

“It is alright to be… familiar with someone you died with,” Legolas teased.

Galadriel hung her head in shame. “I… I thought you were dead.”

“I was,” Legolas said. “But we brought me back.”

“I do not understand what happened,” Galadriel said slowly. “How did you know how to bring us back here? How did you know when I enchanted you?”

Legolas paused for a moment and smiled. “Have you ever been told that once an elf crosses over… dies… and goes to the Halls of Waiting… that they change somehow? They are more knowledgeable… they are different.”

“Aye,” Galadriel said. “Like Glorfindel. He is unlike other elves. Oftentimes, we cannot sense his presence. He seems to have a great deal of wisdom, but he chooses to keep it unto himself. He is ancient, like me and Celeborn, but there is something… mystical about him.”

“Aye,” Legolas said. “Glorfindel is different. When he died and came back to Middle-earth, he was forever changed. I see now why he is reluctant to share his heart. He has knowledge but very little power… unlike me… and you.”

“What do you mean?” Galadriel asked, dismayed by the prince’s words.

“We are both different now, too. We are like Glorfindel… but stronger. Do you not feel it? Can you not sense the power inside you? It has increased… it is at least twice as strong as it was before.”

Galadriel touched her chest and her eyes widened. Her power had grown. In fact, it was so much stronger that as she became connected with it, the entire room became engulfed in a light nearly as bright as the sun. She allowed her hand to fall by her side and smiled. “I understand now.”

Legolas nodded. Suddenly he heard the sound of the wind in is ears, flooding his senses. In his mind’s eye he saw Elladan fighting a horrid looking orc and saw Elrohir, Haldir, Glorfindel and a slew of humans battling a legion of orcs. Then, he saw Lord Elrond tending to a fallen elf who looked near death. He tried to see the elf’s face but it was too late. In the next instant, the scene was gone and Legolas was left dazed, standing before Lady Galadriel who had a similar expression on her face.

“Did you see that?” Legolas asked.

“Did you?” Galadriel asked.

“Aye,” the prince responded.

“I did too.” Galadriel paused. “You had a vision? But I thought that that the link between us had been severed.”

“It has,” Legolas said. “I guess our connection is gone but I have still been left with the ability of foresight. If we saw the same thing, maybe my visions will be more like yours now. Perhaps they will no longer harm me.”

Galadriel nodded.

“Lady… what did we see?”

“Elladan and the others are in a great deal of trouble. We must summon as many warriors as we can find to head toward Gaidon to aid them in their fight. I admit that I am confused, though. I do not understand why Elladan and the others would go to battle now.”

“I do,” Legolas said. “Elladan went to find the orc that he thought had possessed me. He went to go and kill it. The others must have gone to help him… or tried to stop him… I do not know. What I do know is that warriors from this realm will not be able to journey that far in time.”

“But Legolas,” Galadriel protested, “we cannot just sit here and let them die.”

“You are right,” Legolas said. “And I know who can help.”

Galadriel watched on in amazement as Legolas raised both arms in the air. He closed his eyes and became engulfed in a light that was so bright, the Lady had to cover her eyes with her hands to withstand it. She was in awe of the prince’s power and knew that whatever he was doing would mean death to the orcs who had been threatening their loved ones.

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Elrond watched helplessly as two more humans died in battle. He observed his comrades and several humans battling to the best of their ability but it seemed hopeless. More and more orcs streamed through the trees armed with crude weapons and the desire to kill. Thranduil moaned softly and opened his eyes.

“I am not dead yet?” the king asked, surprised. “My, how long it takes for the living to pass into the Shadow Land.”

“Do not speak that way,” Elrond chided. “You shan’t die. I will heal you.”

“Elrond… you must leave me here to die. You go… help the others. That is all that matters now.”

“Shh…” Elrond said. “Do not speak anymore, as talking takes much of your strength. You will need it if I am going to heal you.”

But the king did not hear Elrond’s words; he was unconscious once again.

Elrond sighed, realizing the hopelessness of his situation. He knew he needed to get Thranduil some help soon, or the King of Mirkwood would die. His heart could not accept Thranduil’s death, however, so Elrond clung to the belief that he could save the king before it was too late.

Nearby, Elladan faced Garg, who had nearly killed him only a short while before. Their battle was fierce and involved bloodshed on both their parts. Aside from Elladan’s wounded side and slashed throat, he also bore new wounds which included a scratch across his forehead and a deep gash in his left forearm.

Garg had his share of injuries, too, but was so determined to defeat Elladan that he hardly noticed.

Elladan fought with all of his might but found himself getting weaker and more tired by the passing of each moment. He had always considered himself to be one of the best warriors in Rivendell but knew that Garg was too strong for him, especially in his injured state. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to carry on.

Then, Garg made a fatal mistake. He got close enough to Elladan to rip the necklace from around his neck. He threw it on the ground and struck it with his sword, shattering the lovely stone that served as an engagement gift from Legolas.

“Noooo!” Elladan shouted, picking up what was left of his necklace.

Garg laughed. “You are next!” He lunged toward Elladan, who pulled his knife out of his cloak and stabbed Garg in the heart.

Garg made a gurgling sound for a moment and fell to the ground. His body jerked violently for a few moments but then he was still; he was dead.

Elladan’s whole body was aching, but all he could think about was Legolas. Had he broken the orc’s spell? Was Legolas alive? He rose to his feet and observed the horrific battle scene only a few meters away. It would seem that their defeat was imminent. He knew that only a miracle could save him and the others now.

Suddenly, Elladan heard a growling sound emanating from the forest. Then he heard another one and another one. These sounds became so loud that the battle stopped temporarily so the humans, elves and orcs could try to ascertain where the sounds were coming from.

“What the…” Elrohir began to ask, but his question was answered before he could finish it.

A very large wolf walked into the center of the battlefield and stood there. He looked around at the scene, threw his head up in the air and let out an eerie howl. Seconds later, thousands of wolves flooded the area attacking every orc in sight. The humans tried to escape the gruesome scene but had no where to go. They stood well armed, but ready to meet their fate.

A large wolf ran toward Haldir. He aimed an arrow at the creature’s head and was shocked when the wolf attacked the orc who was standing beside him.

The orcs screamed and tried to flee the scene but the wolves were relentless, tearing them to bits on the spot.

The elves wasted no time hoisting the humans, who were still alive, into the trees and taking refuge in the trees themselves.

Even Elrond climbed into a tree, dragging Thranduil upward with him.

“What sort of magic is this?” one of the humans asked.

Elladan did not know what to make of the situation until he remembered the only one he knew who was capable of summoning animals – Legolas. “It is Legolas,” Elladan said standing up on a tree limb. “Legolas lives!”

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Elladan could hardly wait to see the prince. When the battered warriors arrived, he leapt from his steed and rushed into the manor. “Legolas! Legolas!” Elladan tore into the healing chamber and stopped abruptly.

Legolas looked at Elladan calmly and smiled.

Elladan stared at the prince, bewildered. He was different somehow. There was radiance about Legolas and he looked older somehow. His face looked the same, but there was something about his countenance – his bearing – that made him seem unreal. “Legolas?”

“My Elladan,” Legolas whispered.

Elladan observed Legolas skeptically. “Is… is it really you?”

“Aye, it is me.”

“Prove it then,” Elladan quipped, looking the prince up and down.

Legolas nodded and pulled Elladan into his arms. He kissed the Rivendell warrior tenderly, running his fingers through his hair and stroking his face lovingly.

“Legolas,” Elladan whispered, breaking their kiss and embracing the prince. “Legolas… I almost lost you forever. I watched you die…” Elladan’s voice broke as he spoke.

“All that matters is that I am here now,” Legolas said.

Elladan released the prince and smiled. He bowed to his grandmother when she entered the room, but she motioned to him to continue his conversation with Legolas. “Thank you for sending the wolves to aid us in battle. If they had come any later…”

“I know,” Legolas said.

“How did you know to send them?”

Galadriel’s eyes widened but she remained silent.

“I had a vision.”

“A vision?”

“Aye,” the prince responded.

“What? But I killed the orc that possessed you. I… I thought I saved you from his curse.”

“You did,” Legolas said. “The curse can no longer harm me… and I will no longer have nightmares. But the visions have remained… perhaps as a gift from the Valar for all that I have endured.”

Elladan nodded and then frowned.

“What is wrong?” Legolas asked.

“The necklace you gave me. The orc… he destroyed it. I… I am so sorry, Legolas. I…”

Legolas placed his right hand on Elladan’s mouth gently. “It was only a symbol of my love for you.”

“But… it was very precious to you. It belonged to your mother.”

“The most precious thing in my life is you, and my gift, the necklace, pales in comparison to you.”

Elladan smiled and his cheeks reddened a bit.

“Thank you for saving my life, Elladan.”

Elladan nodded, still blushing.

“Elladan,” Galadriel interjected quickly. “You are injured. Please go to the infirmary and allow your father to take a look at your wounds.”

Legolas’ eyes widened and he looked at his lover more carefully. He was astonished when he saw Elladan’s condition. “Elladan!” the prince exclaimed in shock.

“Well… I wanted to see you,” Elladan explained sheepishly.

“To the infirmary with you,” Galadriel said firmly, ushering Elladan toward the healing chamber. Before Legolas could leave, the Lady of Lórien blocked his path. “Legolas, why did you tell Elladan that he saved your life? He didn’t. I am the reason that you almost died… I nearly cost you your life.”

“I know,” Legolas said, “but Elladan and the others do not need to know that.”

“I cannot lie to them, nor can I allow them to believe a lie,” Galadriel said slowly.

“Then do not speak at all,” Legolas said simply.

Galadriel shook her head in disagreement.

“Have you seen Elladan?” Legolas asked. “Have you seen his current state? He is so thin that it is frightening. He is consumed with the weight of his guilt. He blames himself for not being able to save his mother, for Henna’s death and for all that has happened to me. He thinks that he failed all of us, but now… he believes that he has saved me. Can you not already see a change in him? His belief that he saved me just may save him. You cannot take that away from him. I will not let you. You owe me that.”

Galadriel started to protest but remained silent.

“I only have one question… why did you not simply ask me if you could enchant me? I would have said yes,” Legolas said.

“I was frightened and desperate,” Galadriel responded slowly. “Because of your power, you were my only hope of saving Elladan. I could not risk your rejection. If I did not ask… then I could assume that you would have agreed.” Galadriel shook her head slowly, her eyes full of tears. “What was I thinking? I nearly killed you. I am so sorry, Legolas. Can you ever forgive me?”

Legolas smiled. “There is nothing to forgive. I would have suffered much worse for Elladan. So, there is no need for guilt or sorrow. All is well. However, there is another favor that I want to ask of you.”

“What is that?”

Legolas’ smile widened. “I want to repay Elladan for saving my life, and I think you can help me do it.”

Galadriel’s eyes widened.

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Legolas joined his brothers in one of the healing chambers, shocked by the news that his father was near death. Because of all that had happened, both Elladan and Galadriel had forgotten to mention Thranduil’s condition. The prince’s happiness had now been replaced with sadness as he and his brothers watched Elrond clean Thranduil’s wounds and apply a thick poultice made of Rovoe to them. The Lord of Rivendell asked the king’s sons to leave when their father’s condition worsened. He was going to try a more aggressive treatment and did not want Legolas and the others to witness it.

Elrond decided to focus on Thranduil’s most serious injuries, starting with one of the stab wounds to his chest. He removed the bandage he had applied a bit earlier and observed the wound numbly – it was very deep. He had hoped the poultice would have slowed the bleeding but it hadn’t.

Elrond felt his heart sink and knew there was not much hope. He would continue to change the bandages and apply the poultice, but Thranduil had to fight if he was going to survive, and Elrond knew somehow that the king had given up.

“Damn you, Thranduil,” Elrond said between clenched teeth. “Do you hear me? You are the most stubborn… willful elf I have ever met. All is finally well and you will ruin it by dying. Legolas has survived. Elladan saved him. They will get married soon. Dace and Tialise seem to be in love… I suppose they may wed. And what about Joren? The crown prince and his wife may choose to have a child in the future. What of that?”

When the king did not respond, Elrond sighed in exasperation. “What I mean to say is that your sons need you, Thranduil. They will need your guidance. Once our sons, Legolas and Elladan, are married, our realms will be united in a way. While I do not doubt Joren’s ability to lead… stronger leadership will be important with all of the changes that will occur.” Elrond cleaned the wound gently and applied more of the ointment to it. He noticed that Thranduil’s condition seemed to have worsened and he seemed to be struggling for air.

Elrond rushed over to a cabinet filled with herbs and pulled a small bottle. He opened it and placed it under the king’s nose, waving it gently so the king could inhale the sweet scent.

It was Berylroot, a potent herb that was native to Rivendell. It’s only function was to ease the breathing of someone who was near death.

When Thranduil’s condition stabilized, Elrond placed the bottle on the table beside him. His hands were shaking. Trying to ignore his aching heart, he started to remove another bandage but could not. His heart was so full of emotion that he thought he would burst. He knew there was nothing more he could do. The king was too far gone to save now.

Elrond made up his mind to call the king’s sons back into the chamber to say their goodbyes. The king of Mirkwood would die this day.

Elrond took two steps toward the door and stopped. He turned around and walked back to Thranduil’s bedside, staring at him helplessly. “I love you,” he whispered. “I have loved you for more years than I care to count. I… I am as proud and stubborn as you… and that is why I haven’t been able to say it. I… I was afraid. I was afraid to love you. There has been so much anger and misunderstanding between us… there has been so much time. And the other night when you told me how you felt… and that you would not come back here after the tournament… I… it was more than I could bear. And now… now you may leave this world forever and I do not know how to survive you. When Celebrían left, I had to be strong for my children. If you die… what will I do? I will have nothing to ease the pain of your passing… nothing else to focus on. Earlier, I said that your sons will need you… but… what I really meant is that I need you. I do not want to live without you. You asked me to forgive you, but it is my hope that you will forgive me. I love you with all of my heart, Thranduil. My greatest regret will be that I did not tell you sooner.” Elrond turned to go but froze when Thranduil groaned softly and opened his eyes.

“Am I dead?” the king asked, confused.

“Nay,” Elrond replied, “but… you are badly wounded… I… I fear the worst.”

Thranduil nodded slowly, wincing at the movement. He met Elrond’s eyes and spoke slowly. “I must be close to the Shadow World, for I thought you told me that you love me… that you need me.”

“I did say that,” Elrond said, grasping Thranduil’s hand gently. “I do love you. And… I do need you.”

Thranduil sighed and smiled faintly. He gave Elrond’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “Legolas… is he…”

“He is alive and well,” Elrond said.

Thranduil sighed again and an expression of relief spread across his face. Looking at Elrond hopefully the king mustered a weak question. “Is there any way I can survive this?”

“Aye,” Elrond responded. “You must fight. Together, we can save your life.”

“Together…” Thranduil said, meeting Elrond’s eyes.


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TBC...