The Music in My Heart

Title: The Music in My Heart, Chapter 55 (betaed)
Author: Sorsha
Fandom/Pairing: Elrond/OFC, Glorfindel/Haldir, Elladan/OFC, Elrohir/Legolas, others implied
Rating: R
Warning: AU (Story set 770 years after ROTK); Slash and het.
Feedback: This is my first fanfic, so constructive feedback appreciated.
Archive: AFF; FF
Acknowledgements: Many thanks to Alex Cat for her help in betaing this fic.
Disclaimer: Any of the residents of Middle-earth and Aman that you recognize belong to Prof. Tolkien’s estate. The same is true about Middle-earth and Aman. I’m only visiting and admiring the “views”.
Summary: Sauron may be gone, but his legacy of evil still lingers. As Middle-earth faces the threat of another dark lord, a party of elves departs Aman on a mission for the Valar, a mission of mercy long delayed.

Chapter 55 --- The Present Moment

"Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment."
Buddha

*****

Elrond gratefully accepted a cup of herbal tea from his friend as Erestor urged him toward a chair in the quarters he would share with the other ellyn of his party. It had been a long and exhausting day. The arrival of a patrol from the garrison several miles from its safety had been a welcomed sight and they had been swiftly escorted into the small stronghold.

He and the other healers had spent the last hours treating those that had sustained less serious wounds during the earlier battle. Many of those they had tended in the field had required more sophisticated care than they had been able to give them in the rushed conditions of the exposed valley. The intent of field care had been to save their lives and stabilize them enough to survive transport to the garrison. They had succeeded in saving most of those they had treated, but the poisoned arrows had made their mission more difficult than it might have been.

Despite their best efforts, they had lost two more men and a second dwarf before they had managed to completely purge the poison from their wounds. They had reminded themselves, while their losses had been heavy, it could have been far worse if they had not had sufficient quantities of the antidote to the poison their enemy had been using. Elrohir and the other healers had, like Seere, recognized the scent of the deadly brew and moved quickly to administer the willow’s bark derivative. Their patients had finally settled into healing sleeps under the watchful eye of Celeborn and a human healer named Walda.

Glorfindel had required a second dose of the foxglove potion when his heart rate had become unstable once again. Elrond had cautioned Haldir that they would not know if the combination of the poison antidote and the potions to counter Glorfindel’s allergy had caused any permanent damage to his heart until he awoke. Celeborn had volunteered to sit with their patient through the night, hoping his presence would ease some of the worry and fear gripping his son’s heart.

Now that the healer had done all he could, Elrond turned his attention to the other issues that would rob him of sleep this night. Patrols from the garrison had begun to return as the daily rotations cycled through the early evening. They had reported that a growing number of Orcs and Uruk Hai had been seen in the vicinity of the garrison. Bands of Easterlings had been plaguing the area in recent weeks, and their numbers had also begun to grow.

Draining the last of his tea, he mused, /this can mean one of several things. One, they have been sent to recover the artifact and, from their numbers, their master wants the tablet quite badly. Another option is that the Hordes have been sent to follow or attack our expedition. This too is a worrisome. As bad as those possibilities would be, there is also the possibility the Hordes have grown in numbers to the point that these local sightings were indicative of their spread across Middle-earth. If this was the case, our mission to uncover their master is of even greater urgency than we had supposed./

Setting his empty cup aside, Elrond rose and walked to the door. Hearing voices to his left, he moved down the narrow corridor, noting the worry in the tones of the other members of his party. “We cannot leave it here… that is not an option! We have too few to defend it from a large force. Further, these troops are responsible for the safety of a large section of southern Gondor and cannot remain inside the garrison indefinitely.”

“Prince Aranuir is entirely correct, we cannot leave it here. It is obvious the Hordes are intent upon recovering it given their focused attack on Glorfindel. The only place where it can be securely kept is Minas Tirith,” Legolas agreed.

Erestor’s tired voice added, “Another consideration is the scholars there are the only ones that might be able to decipher it. I feel strongly that knowing its secrets will help us understand our enemy… perhaps prevent whatever evil he plans from being carried out.”

Elrond paused inside the doorway of the small office and studied the faces of his kin and allies. “You are all correct. Ara… might I purpose we send a large detachment to Minas Tirith to guard the artifact until it is within the walls of the City? They could complete the journey in less than two days if they ride hard.”

Nodding his head, the Prince added, “We have messenger birds here. One could be sent ahead to alert my mother and ask her to send troops to intercept our force as soon as possible. I would sleep easier thinking that dark object safe from the Hordes.”

Eärnur, Aranuir’s nephew and second, suggested, “Perhaps, a core cadre of troops could be grouped around the one carrying the artifact while the rest are arrayed in spokes surrounding them to sweep the area as we ride to keep the enemy as far from it as possible. It would take a fair number of our troops from this garrison to augment the numbers we have in the expedition, but it would provide the maximum protection to the bearer. If our Queen can send reinforcements…”

“An excellent suggestion, Prince Eärnur,” Prince Háma of Rohan offered. “As our troops will be mounted, we should be able to move quickly and avoid many of the Hordes that are on foot.”

“Could the message to Queen Arinzil include a request for additional herbs to make the antidote for the poison the enemy is using?” Behind Elrond, Seere appeared in the hall. “Master Walda of Rohan and I would also like to request a quantity of camphor and peach leaves, as well. We hope that it may serve as a substitute for willow’s bark in the poison antidote. We have very little of either with us as it has few traditional battlefield uses.”

“Peach leaves and camphor? That is a combination we never tried,” Elrohir mused. “Many have the allergy to willow’s bark, so another remedy would be welcome.”

“We lost one immediately when his heart failed due to a severe reaction and several others suffered from hives from its use. If we need to treat them again, their reaction will be much worse,” Elrond added, slightly relieved to have something to occupy his thoughts other than the Hordes. “I doubt Glorfindel would survive another dose of the antidote as his reaction was extremely severe.”

“I will ask for them to bring us a goodly supply of both, my lady. Are there other items we need?” Aranuir asked.

“As it seems the Hordes are liberally using poison to taint their arrows, it may be wise to ask for additional supplies to make the antidote and the heart strengthening decoction. We used a significant quantity of these items today and… this was but the first of what may be many skirmishes with the Hordes,” Elrond observed.

“Indeed, Adar’ra. I will see to it. Lady Seere, if you could provide me a list of the ingredients needed, I will include the list in my report.”

As the Prince seated himself at the desk to begin to code a message to his mother, Elrond noted the look of deep concentration marking his chief advisor’s face. “What worries you, Erestor? You seem lost in thought.”

“I was wondering if we might confuse and… perhaps mislead the Hordes from their pursuit of the artifact.” Looking up to meet his lord’s gaze, he asked, “Might not a cloaking spell help mask the location of the artifact among the cadre that will be charged with carrying it?”

“Indeed… an excellent idea, mellon nin. It might give the one to carry it some protection as the Hordes will not be able to focus on one rider. As I think of it, Ara, you might want to hide some of the troops sent to guard the artifact in the daily patrols. This will give the impression you are increasing your defense of the area. Those carrying the artifact may be able to leave under the same guise,” Elrond proposed. “If we manage to obscure the artifact from their notice, the force may be able to leave unknown to the Hordes in this area and be well away before they realize it is gone.” (my friend)

Legolas asked, “Are you suggesting we mislead them to think the artifact is still here? If we succeed, do we not leave the garrison vulnerable to attack without sufficient troops to protect her?”

Háma nodded in agreement. “That is a concern. Is it possible that, rather than completely hiding the artifact from them, we merely confuse them as Lord Erestor first suggested?”

Erestor sat in silence for several minutes, mulling the options. “I think Lord Elrond’s plan to hide the true numbers traveling as escort to the artifact will confuse them about our true plans. It will, I hope, also make them think the garrison is still well protected long enough to get the patrol well away from here. We simply need to mask it so that they do not know it has left the garrison until those carrying it are safely amongst the larger numbers. If that party can leave disguised as another patrol, they will have many miles between them and the Hordes in this area before they realize what we have done.”

‘A diversion…*” murmured Legolas, trading a smile with Elrohir. “I see where your youngest brother learned his ability to formulate strategy… your Adar and his old tutor.”

*****
The sudden movement from the wounded warrior caught both dosing elves off-guard. Jumping to his feet, Celeborn moved quickly to catch Glorfindel’s flailing arms before he could reopen the wound caused by the arrow. Seeing his son appear on the other side of the bed, he instructed, “Hold him. I need to check his vital signs so I can determine what I causing him to react like this.”

“Hurts…”

“Glorfindel, calm down, melme. I am here along with my father. Let us see what is hurting you and we will take care of you,” Haldir whispered, in a low soothing voice. (love)

Hearing his lover’s voice, the blonde warrior’s eyes opened to reveal glazed blue orbs. “Haldir… love you,” slipped from his lips as a racking cough robbed him of breath.

Moving to settle the Balrog Slayer against his chest and shoulder, Haldir held him until the coughing fit subsided. “I love you too. Now calm yourself or you will reopen your wound, beloved,” the Lorien urged.

Focusing on Haldir’s sky-blue eyes, Glorfindel saw the deep worry… fear gripping his lover’s heart. “Do no… worry. Not… leaving… y… you.”

“Nay, you are not, for I will not let you go. Now, relax and let Ada complete his examination. You will soon be well, melme,” Haldir repeated. Looking up to meet his father’s steady gaze, he whispered, “Ada?” (love)

Giving his son an encouraging smile, Celeborn offered, “I think he has developed a mild case of pneumonia. That is not uncommon or unexpected after as severe allergic reaction such as Glorfindel had. The lungs often fill with fluid, making breathing difficult. I need to prepare him a strengthening tea to fight infection and to help clear his lungs. He should be better by morning. I will also add something to numb the pain from the poisoned wound so he can sleep.”

Rising to go prepare the potion, he reached over to grip Haldir’s shoulder. “Have faith, ion nin. Glorfindel is strong and he has a great deal of incentive to get better… he has you and your love for him. You will see; by morning, he will be better.” (my son)

In a low, tortured voice, Haldir whispered, “What if he is not, Ada? I have been… cautious in taking the next step in our relationship for fear of making a mistake. What if he dies and… I never gave him my pledge?”

“Have faith, ion nin. You will yet have that chance and when you do… take it. Stop living in fear of the future because of pains from the past. We all must live in the present moment or we fail to live.” Seeing the tears streaming down his son’s face, Celeborn gave his shoulder a final squeeze and left to prepare the potion knowing Haldir needed time alone with his elf. (my son)

*****

The morning dawned as the first patrol rode out of the protection of the garrison. Watching from the doorway of the main building which housed both the barracks and the small healing hall, Elrond watched his son and his mate prepare to join their patrols to begin their mission. Tamping down the fear he always felt when his sons prepared to depart on what was likely to be a dangerous mission, he had to once again remind himself that they were skilled warriors.

Walking over to lay his hand on Elrohir’s shoulder, he teased, “Estel would be so pleased to see you wearing the uniform of Gondor… finally having his older brother under this realm’s command.”

Smiling, his son agreed. “He would indeed. He offered us uniforms to wear when we marched on the Black Gates, given the clothes we had been wearing were in bad repair after the battles we had seen. Luckily, we had spare tunics in our saddlebags, so we declined his offer and wore the colors of Imladris as we marched. Estel only smiled at the sight. I think it gave him hope for it reminded him of his youth… of you and your care.”

“Estel and your sister accomplished so much during their time in this land. I feel the lingering echoes of their fëar in Minas Tirith… in the very spirit of Gondor,” Elrond mused. “Then too, Ara looks so much like my son, it takes me back to those dark days.”

“Excuse me, my lord. Are you really Queen Arwen’s father?”

Both elves looked over to find a young soldier had overheard their conversation. The look of awe on his face amused the pair though they took pains to hide their reaction, not wanting to embarrass him. “Indeed, penneth. Arwen was my beloved daughter and Estel… King Elessar was my foster son. I was blessed to have had them share my life.” (young one)

Eyes wide, the young man asked, “You were the Herald of Gil-Galad… fought in the Last Alliance?”

“I was.” Pausing to study the small group of warriors that had gathered around them, he smiled. “Once you have returned from your mission, I would be happy to tell you the tales of those long ago days.”

Celeborn had walked up unnoticed by the group. Laying a hand on Elrond’s shoulder, he suggested, “Perhaps, you can tempt him to tell the tales of his days as spy for the High King… of his excursions behind the walls of Mordor to watch and report on the building of Barad-Dûr.”

Elrohir laughed. “I would enjoy hearing that! You have seldom told those tales, Ada. They interest me greatly.”

Shooting the smirking elf lord a glare, Elrond noticed the excitement this possibility had generated among the young soldiers… now including several elven and dwarven warriors, as well as his son and son-in-law. Sighing, he gracefully capitulated. “Return safely and I will gladly tell you any tale that is mine to offer. I believe it is time for your patrols to leave. Travel safe.”

After receiving quick embraces from his kin, Elrond stepped aside and watched them mount. Within minutes, the last patrol had disappeared out of the gate. Now all he could do was wait and pray to the Valar for their safety.

*****
“He has yet to wake since I gave him medication for pain and to fight the pneumonia… at perhaps, the third hour after midnight,” Celeborn observed. “I expect he will wake within the hour, but he may sleep longer. The coughing episode in the night took quite a lot out of him.”

Nodding his head in understanding, Elrond stepped closer to the cot where his ancient friend lay. Bending, he placed his head directly over Glorfindel’s heart and listened for several minutes. Releasing the breath he had been holding, he straightened and faced the worried elf standing near the end of the bed. “It is too soon to know with certainty, but I heard no sounds of hesitancy in his heartbeat. I will listen again once he is awake and his breathing is altered.”

Turning to Seere, he instructed, “I would like to prepare a special fortifying tea for our friend, as well as, the other patients that were poisoned. I may want to add a dose or two thereafter for the ones that suffered a reaction to the antidote.”

“Is it a draught I know, melme, or do you need to show me this mixture? I will be happy to make it whenever it is needed,” she offered. “I would also like for you, Ada, and Celeborn to meet with Master Walda and myself on the alternative to the willow’s bark decoction. I would very much like to have another antidote ready before we leave the safety of this garrison.” (love)

“Indeed, pen vuil. Perhaps Master Walda can join us for breakfast. We ate but little last evening and I need more than a piece of fruit this morning,” Elrond suggested. (dear one)

“A sound suggestion, Elrond.” Clasping Haldir’s shoulder, Celeborn added, “I will bring you some tea and a light meal when I return. Do not argue for you have not eaten since midday yesterday. Making yourself weak will not help Glorfindel.”

“Nay… it will not. Eat… my love.”

“Glorfindel! You are awake, meldir. How is your breathing? Is it difficult to draw a breath?” Elrond asked, as he stepped to the head of the cot and began to recheck his friend’s vital signs. (friend)

“Hurts… to move.”

“I understand, but is it difficult to draw a breath?” the healer pressed.

Focusing on his friend in hopes of ignoring the pain, the Balrog Slayer forced a deep breath of air into his lungs before painfully exhaling. Panting slightly, he answered, “Aye… can.”

“I hate to do this to you, mellon nin, but I now need to listen to your chest. Can you breathe deeply once again when I ask?” Elrond urged as he placed his hand over the wound in his friend’s shoulder so that he could sooth the pain with gentle pulses of his healing powers. Given the amount of energy he had used the day before, he forced himself to stop sooner than he would have liked knowing he needed to conserve his strength. (my friend)

Receiving a faint nod, Elrond again placed his ear over his friend’s heart and listened carefully. After several minutes he asked, “Can you drew a deep breath now, Glorfindel? This will be the last time I ask for now.”

Clutching Haldir’s hand for support, the blond warrior once again focused on his friend before drawing a breath. Relieved to find that Elrond’s touch had lessoned the pain of the wound significantly, he let the breath hang in his lungs for a moment before exhaling. After a moment, he asked, “Well?”

Lifting his head, Elrond met his friend’s gaze directly. “I do not hear any impairment to your heart. There is still some fluid in your lungs, but it is slight. Seere and I will brew more of the tea Celeborn gave you last night to help correct this situation. I do not foresee any long-term problems once we get you healed.”

Relieved cobalt-blue eyes quickly sought tear-filled sky-blue orbs. “Told you… be… alright.”

Too relieved to speak, Haldir dropped to his knees by the cot. Needing to reassure himself that Glorfindel would recover, he bent down to press a gentle kiss to his love’s lips. “Too close, melme… too close. I thought I would lose you following the battle yesterday… and again during the night!” (love)

Struggling to raise his hand against the restraint created by the bandages swathing his shoulder, Glorfindel had to settle for grasping the edges of Haldir’s tunic in a weak grip. “I will not… leave… you… if… I still… have breath… to fight.”

Raising his head, Haldir met Glorfindel’s eyes with a steady look, noting the struggle his lover was making to remain awake. “I love you Glorfindel. Here, before our family and friends… I ask you to betroth yourself to me. I pledge you my love, my loyalty, and my fidelity… forever!”

A soft smile lit the wounded warrior’s face. A faint, “…bout time…” slipped from his lips as sleep claimed him.

*****

A/N --- * Legolas’s comment in the movie ROTK when Aragon suggested they ride on the Black Gates to buy Frodo and Sam time and ‘safe passage’. Sorry, I couldn’t resist!