The Strong Heart

Chapter 7

Faerlan kicked at the elf as he ran away, striking him in the leg. The pony then ran like the wind, looking for someone to help his little elf. The training grounds were empty. Where was everyone? He ran to the door of Glorfindel’s office, raised his two front legs, and kicked as hard as he could. The door burst open.

“What in the name of ….” Glorfindel stared at the pony. “Faerlan! What is it? Where is Saercaeron?”

The pony whinnied and backed out, looking at Glorfindel to follow. Glorfindel shouted at Taurfaeron as he leapt onto the pony’s back. “Go get help! Follow us!”

Taurfaeron had quickly found Elrond. A servant was sent to find Amarion, while Elrond gathered some healing supplies he kept in his office. Suithoron and an escort of guards were waiting to escort them as they hurried outside. Elrond raised an eyebrow.

“We do not know what happened, my Lord. I cannot allow you and Amarion to go out there without an escort, even if Taurfaeron is with you.” Suithoron said.

Elrond nodded, mounted his waiting horse, and they rode after Glorfindel.

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Faerlan raced as fast as he could to the cliff, then came to a slamming stop. Glorfindel ran to the edge. He could hear sobbing.

“Saercaeron? Are you down there?”

“Glor..fin..del…I hurt…please..come..get..me,” the sobbing little elfling managed to get out.

“I’m coming, little one, I’m coming. Just hold on.” Glorfindel carefully lowered himself over the edge, searching for footholds. Saercaeron lay in a crumpled bundle on a ledge, half way down the cliff.

Glorfindel dropped carefully onto the ledge. “What happened, sweetheart? Did you fall?” Glorfindel carefully uncurled the elfling to examine him for injuries.

Saercaeron’s hand reached for Glorfindel, grabbing onto him tightly. “Someone picked me up….and threw me down here,” the elfling sobbed out. “They threw something over me so I couldn’t see!”

“I am here now, little one. You’re safe now. Tell me where you hurt.” Glorfindel wanted to hold the little elfling, but feared moving him.

“My leg..it hurts so bad. Make it stop hurting, please, Glorfindel.”

Tears welled in Glorfindel’s eyes. Removing his knife, he carefully cut away the elfling’s leggings. The leg was badly broken; a piece of sharp, jagged bone had pierced through the skin. Glorfindel carefully raised the elflings upper body and slid under him. Cradling the little elfings head and shoulders on his lap, he gently stroked his head and face. “The others will be here very soon, sweet one. Then we will get you out of here. Your nana will be waiting for you in the healing house and she and Lord Elrond and Nestoron will all make the pain go away and fix your leg.” Glorfindel bit his lip to keep from sobbing with the little elf.

“Glorfindel? Where are you?” Elrond called.

“Saercaeron! Where are you my son?” Amarion peered over the edge.

“We’re down here! Saercaeron’s leg is badly broken. You will need to get something I can place him on, and rope to pull it up,” Glorfindel called. “Hurry!”

Suithoron motioned to two of the still mounted escort, and they swiftly rode away. Rope was no problem, but they had nothing to lay the little elfling on.

Glorfindel spoke softly to Saercaeron. “Did you hear, little one? Your Ada is up there, waiting for you. We will get out of here very soon now.” Saercaeron was motionless, but moaned in pain.

“Is he conscious, Glorfindel?” Elrond asked.

“Aye. Did you bring anything for his pain with you?

“ Is there room for me where you are?” Elrond called.

“Aye, we’re on a ledge, about half way down.”

Elrond quickly removed his outer robe and grabbed his healing supplies and a flask of water from his horse. He tied the items to a rope and lowered them over the edge. “Glorfindel, take these. I’m coming down.”

“I have them.” Glorfindel called.

Elrond was just about to lower himself over the edge when Suithoron stopped him. “Forgive me, my Lord,” he said as he tied a length of rope securely around Elrond’s waist. “Glorfindel would have my head if anything happened to you.”

Elrond nodded and began his descent. Suithoron tied the rope end securely to the saddle of his great horse, then went to stand next to Amarion, placing a hand on his shoulder. The poor elfling’s father was ringing his hands in worry.

Elrond dropped onto the ledge. “Saercaeron, can you hear me?” The elfling lay with his head in Glorfindel’s lap, eyes closed, but the head nodded. “Will you open your eyes and look at me?” Saercaeron’s eyes opened. Elrond saw pain, but no concussion in them. He moved his hands over the elflings head, neck, shoulders, and chest, searching for other injuries. Finding none, he heaved a sigh of relief. “You are lucky, little one. Only your leg is broken.”

Taking the water flask, he mixed a large amount of crushed herbs in it. He motioned to Glorfindel to raise Saercaeron’s head, and placed the flask to the elflings mouth. “Drink, little one. It will make your leg feel better.”

Saercaeron swallowed several large mouthfuls, then relaxed back in Glorfindel’s lap again. Moments later, he was drifting off.

“Did he fall?”

“Nay. He told me someone threw him down here,” Glorfindel whispered.

“What?” Elrond whispered back. “Threw him down here?”

Glorfindel nodded. “And threw something over him so he couldn’t see.”

Elrond peered over the edge, farther over the cliff. “Look down there. What do you see?”

Glorfindel looked. “It looks like a cloak – a grown elf’s cloak.”

“And if I’m not mistaken, it’s a cloak made in Lothlorien.” Elrond added.


Tbc…..