History Lessons, The Second Age, by Nilmandra

Chapter 3: Visions of Danger

Travelers' Campsite - dawn

Rain had fallen steadily all night, slowing to a drizzle and then ceasing near daybreak. The sun broke through the clouds just after dawn, burning away the fog and mists that hung over the land. The alcove beneath the jutting rock where they had sheltered had kept them fairly dry, but their blankets were damp. They moved the wagon out from beneath the rock, and spread their blankets out over the top of the wagon cover.

"Those will be dry in just a few hours in the sun," said Elladan satisfactorily as he hitched the mare to the wagon.

"Elladan, come see the river," called Elrohir.

Elladan climbed the rocks and found Elrohir seated on a tree branch leaning out over the Bruinen. Beneath him the brown waters churned and flowed at a fast pace, with debris floating along the edges, picked up by the rising waters that had widened the river.

They watched the swirling brown waters loosen a section of rock and soil, the large clump falling into the river and quickly breaking apart as the current swept it southward. "I am glad we crossed the Fords yesterday," commented Elladan. "Come, it is time to depart."

Glorfindel was mounted and already leading the mare, speaking to her softly of the day's journey and how she would not need to swim again for some time. She nickered and threw her head, pleased at the attention from the warrior and his stallion, who whinnied in return and nudged her with his nose.

"I think we have a love affair starting," laughed Elrohir as he mounted his own horse and quickly caught up to Glorfindel.

Glorfindel smiled and began to sing a somewhat bawdy tale of courtship, inserting the names of the stallion and the mare for the lovers in the song. His horse jingled his small bells merrily in time with him. Elladan and Elrohir joined him in the chorus, and Garthon hummed along. It was, Elladan thought, a fine day.

They followed the Great East Road as it veered away from the Bruinen and turned westward. Glorfindel set an easy pace on the road until the sun dried them, then increased the speed. It was midday when he stopped them to rest the horses.

"We can eat while the horses drink and graze," he decided. "We should reach the Last Bridge by mid afternoon and there is a good site to camp not far beyond that. We shall pass Amon Sûl tomorrow."

Elladan spread out the fare reserved for their meal, and the three younger warriors seated themselves near Glorfindel. They all hoped he would continue the story he had begun the night before. Glorfindel watched them with an amused smile, knowing well what they wanted but not offering. Elladan knew that it was a story Glorfindel did not tell often. He had said his memories were unclear and often he could not say exactly when events happened. Still, he had promised the twins when they were small that someday he would tell them.

"Glorfindel, will you continue the story you began last night?" asked Elladan after being nudged by Garthon.

Glorfindel sipped his water and looked at the sun, noting its position before nodding his agreement. "I do not know how long after Námo's judgment it was until I was next aware . . ."

~ ~ ~* * *~ ~ ~

The vision of Námo faded from Glorfindel's thought, and he again entered a period of rest. How long it lasted, he did not know. When he next had a conscious thought, it was of light and song, the light soft and glowing and the song delicate and moving. In his thoughts he told the bearer of the music that the song was beautiful, and that he felt as if he sailed on the wind with the notes surrounding and uplifting him. There was no response, and this did not concern Glorfindel at all. The music faded then, and the light too, and he waited patiently for something to fill the void they had left. He allowed for what he felt was a polite amount of time to pass before directing his thought again into the void. He repeated his first thoughts, but heard only gentle laughter in return.

"Glorfindel," came a soft voice, "open your eyes."

Glorfindel had to think for a moment why this would not be possible. His fëa did not have eyes. Yet, when he considered this more deeply, he felt a slight twitching where the eyes of his hröa had been. He told his mind to open his eyes, but the darkness remained. But he had felt twitching. . . and the fëa did not twitch. He smiled at his own logic, and when he did so he felt the skin of his face move.

Suddenly a warm hand touched his face, cupping his cheek and gently stroking his skin with its thumb. He started at the sensation, and then unconsciously leaned into it, seeking the warmth of living flesh against his own. The hand continued to stroke his cheek and then his hair, and he felt the strands tickle his cheek. A tear of amazement and delight and pure joy slid from his eye, and he reveled in the pleasure of it. Such textures and forms and feelings!

"Glorfindel, open your eyes," repeated the soft voice.

It was a male voice, but not one that he recognized. He liked the sound, though, and wished the voice would speak again.

"Not until you open your eyes," came the teasing reply.

Glorfindel laughed aloud. The sound startled him, and he stopped, but then laughed again. What a joyous noise! He had not thought to hear laughter again, much less his own! Gradually his eyelids responded to the command by his mind, and slowly opened. He blinked several times, his heart pounding as the pupils focused, and the place he was in began to take on color and dimension. There was light, but it was dim and he found himself wishing to see the sun and feel its warmth on his face.

"Much better," the voice commented, a hint of amusement still present.

The being moved slowly into his line of sight. His face was neither young nor old, but very wise and kind, and he was now smiling at Glorfindel. He was not an elf, but obviously of a higher race. Glorfindel thought he should sit up and greet this person, but found that his body was not yet ready to respond to such commands. He tried to greet the person, but the sound he heard was not at all the words he was trying to say. He switched tongues to the High Speech of Aman, but the sound was garbled even worse. He frowned, unsure what to do next.

"Speech will come," the person assured him. "Your fëa and hröa are learning to work together. Soon you will be up and moving and speaking as you once did."

Glorfindel suddenly wondered about his body. It had been burned and battered in battle, and buried by the eagles. He recalled this from the tapestries he had seen in Mandos' Hall. He looked around the room, trying to determine if he was still in the Halls of Waiting, but he could see light shining on the wall before him, and no tapestries were hanging within his sight, so he supposed he was not. Who, then, was this person before him? And where did the new body come from? Was it similar to the old one, before it was destroyed?

"You have many questions. This is good, for I have many answers," the person answered. "My name is Olórin, and I am a servant of Manwë. You are in an antechamber of the Halls of Mandos. Once your body and mind are reconciled, you will be free to move about as you wish. Your body is an exact replica of what it would have been had you always lived in the Blessed Realm. It may look exactly as you remember it in Middle-earth, or slightly better." Olórin paused to laugh at the smile that crossed Glorfindel's face at this comment.

Olórin picked up a lock of Glorfindel's hair and held it up before him. "Still the color of gold, and the eyes looking upon it are still the finest blue." He pulled back the light cloth covering Glorfindel, and lifted the larger hand into his own. He began a gentle massage, first of each finger and then the palm, moving up the wrist and forearm. He spoke softly, naming each body part and gently moving it.

Glorfindel reveled in the touch. The warmth and pressure of Olórin's hands conveyed much, even as his words sounded as music to Glorfindel's ears. His mind seemed to recognize his limbs after Olórin touched them. His skin tingled and felt alive, and as he concentrated on his fingers he heard Olórin exclaim, "You moved your fingers!"

After the simple joys of moving his fingers and toes, Glorfindel closed his eyes and sighed. The smile would not leave his face and he felt Olórin's hand again brush his cheek.

"Rest, Glorfindel. When you wake, I will be here."

~ ~ ~* * *~ ~ ~

The young elves were thoughtful and quiet as Glorfindel finished his tale. They had finished their meal, and the horses had eaten and drunk their fill as well. Glorfindel rose and whistled, and his stallion and the mare both ran to him. He stroked both heads and murmured to them, and even from a distance his ability to communicate with the animals and be understood by them was obvious. The mare pranced over to the wagon, and waited patiently as Glorfindel reattached the harness to her.

"Glorfindel," said Elladan slowly, "do you think a baby just born feels like you did when you woke?"

Glorfindel laughed. "When I held the two of you on the day of your birth I wondered that too. But no, I think the events are much different. My mind seemed intact, although my sense of time was diminished then and for some time afterward. My body was whole, a more perfect form of what I had known in Middle-earth - and it worked - it just did not work with my mind. It seemed as if connections had to be made between my thoughts and every muscle and fiber of my body."

"Were you afraid?" asked Elrohir. "If I awoke and I could not speak or move, I would be filled with fear."

Glorfindel thought about this for a moment before answering. "I was not afraid. This will seem a strange answer, and I am not sure I can explain this well. How do you explain the beauty of a field of wildflowers to one who has never had sight?"

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances and then shrugged. "If they had not seen a flower and did not know color, it would be nigh impossible," admitted Elrohir.

"That is also what it is like for me to explain new life in Valinor. I awoke nearly as innocent as a newborn babe. I did not fear or worry, but merely wondered. I had memories of my prior embodied life, but while I recalled love and friendship, the pain and weariness of that life was gone."

"Is it back now?" asked Elrohir hesitantly.

"What do you mean, Elrohir?"

"When you returned to Middle-earth, did the pain and weariness return too?"

"I again can feel those things, just as you can. But those that existed in my former life did not return because I came back," answered Glorfindel reassuringly.

Elrohir seemed relieved, and again Glorfindel was moved by his tenderheartedness. He did so dislike seeing those he loved suffer. "Come, let us ride! We shall cross the Last Bridge in just a few hours!" called Glorfindel as his stallion began to trot ahead. Smiles again covered the faces of his three companions and they set off.

* * *
Imladris - dawn

It was early in the morning, just as Anor began to brighten the eastern sky, when Erestor brought the children to Elrond. Elrond had not slept that night, nor had many who lived in Imladris. Rain had fallen in the night, hampering their search efforts. As Erestor looked at the Master of Imladris, he thought that he had never seen such grief and fear unmasked in the grey eyes.

Erestor had found Liriel's father among the searchers, and asked permission to wake his daughter. She had told what she knew of Arwen the evening before, yet Erestor had hopes that she might help fill more of the gaps in time of the prior morning.

Liriel had been tired but was quite worried for her friend, and when Erestor left her he had the names of other children who sometimes played near the waterfall. He interviewed children all that night, waking them in cottages and within the main house, and suddenly he had a more complete picture of Arwen's morning. He had gone back and rounded up the children, and with their parents gathered behind him, he knelt on the floor near the children, and helped prompt them to tell what they knew.

"I went to meet Arwen at the waterfall, and when I was almost there, just past the big rock, she came running towards me. She was crying, and all wet and muddy," began Liriel. When Erestor prompted her, she continued, "Her bag was open and things were falling out of it. I tried to stop her, but she just said she would come back later. I waited for a long time, and when she did not come back I went home." The child looked at Erestor, hoping she would not have to tell Master Elrond that she had been mad at Arwen for not coming back, but Erestor smiled at her and smoothed her hair and thanked her.

A young male elf stepped forward then, and Erestor looked at him sternly. The child had been weeping, and behind him his parents also had tears in their eyes. He looked up once at Master Elrond, and then quickly back at the ground as he began his story.

"Some of us go to the waterfall to fish. I was there early and Arwen came. She did not want to fish or play with me. She said she was waiting for Liriel. She just sat there with her doll. I thought she was not being nice. I did not know she was sad, Master Elrond. I would not have teased her or taken her doll. She started to cry. She said something about her brothers and I said her brothers would not want to play with a silly elleth who cried over dolls. I was going to throw her doll to the other side of the stream, but I missed and it fell into the water. I tried to get it for her," the little elf said, openly weeping now. "But she only cried harder and went into the water to get it, and fell. She was all wet and muddy and her pictures were scattered. She screamed at me that her brothers did too like her and then she ran off down the trail."

The child hung his head, sobbing and deeply ashamed, and his father stepped forward to stand behind him and lay a hand on his shoulder. With that comforting touch, he looked up and choked out the end of his story. "When Liriel came, I ran into the woods so she would not see me."

Erestor watched as tears slid down Elrond's cheeks, but he rose and also knelt before the sobbing child. Erestor could hear the child's plea for forgiveness through his weeping, and was not surprised when Elrond gathered the small elf close. Forgiveness was granted. Erestor did not hear the words that Elrond whispered in the child's ear, but when Elrond released the child he first brushed the tears from the little one's cheek and the small elf rejoined his parents much calmer than he had been.

The children were excused, and Erestor waited until their parents had taken them to a far corner of the dining hall before speaking.

"I have spoken to all the children near Arwen's age, and sent word for anyone who saw her yesterday to speak to me immediately. If the children's sense of time is correct, Arwen was not at the waterfall for very long. I have Calenil's search group focusing on the woods and caves beyond the waterfall. I am more convinced than I was last night that she is not on the grounds of Imladris," Erestor finished. He had carefully watched Elrond's face as he spoke, and continued only when he knew he had Elrond's full attention. "I think we should send a rider after Glorfindel and the twins."

Elrond was quiet for a moment, his fingers absently rubbing the tension from his forehead. "Send the rider," he finally answered.

Erestor nodded. "The search will continue all day, Elrond. We have already started over in the house and the grounds, and the patrols are searching inward from their positions."

"Master Elrond," Amariel touched Erestor's arm before interrupting him. "Lady Celebrían has awakened."

Elrond rose quickly and walked the length of the dining hall, the eyes of all present following him as he left the room. He did not look at any one person, nor acknowledge them. Parents hugged their children as tears slid down their faces. Erestor beseeched Elbereth and Eru himself to find Arwen and return her to the loving arms of her parents.

* * *

The four elves stood near the Last Bridge and stared in awe at the raging waters of the Hoarwell. The bridge remained above the water, but water lapped at the landing leading to the bridge. Brown swirling waters rushed below them, churning over the rocks and small embankments, and catching twigs and debris and sweeping them downstream.

"Wait here," commanded Glorfindel.

He dismounted and spoke softly to his horse, then walked up the landing to the bridge. He stepped lightly on it, inspecting the wooden planks as he slowly walked over it. He remembered it being built after the war in Eriador with Sauron, and recalled when Gil-Galad's and Elendil's troops had crossed it enroute to Imladris, where they gathered before marching to Mordor. Once he reached the other side, he turned and walked back across to where the others were waiting. The twins looked at him hopefully.

"The bridge seems sound," said Glorfindel. "Walk your horses across - Garthon and Elladan first, then Elrohir and I will follow with the wagon."

Garthon dismounted and walked gingerly to the bridge, his mount whinnying in fear at the sound of the rushing water. He spoke gently to the frightened animal, and soon they had reached the end. Elladan followed him, his horse on his left and Elrohir's on the right. He too spoke soothingly to the animals and soon they were across.

"Stay to her left and I will keep to her right," Glorfindel instructed. His own horse walked calmly ahead of them, ignoring the roar of the water. The little mare was less sure of herself and both Glorfindel and Elrohir coaxed her to move forward. She did as bidden, and they began the crossing.

Glorfindel heard the crack and snap of timber when they were nearly a third of the way across.

"Elrohir, go ahead," he commanded.

Elrohir looked at him for a moment, hesitating.

"Go!" barked Glorfindel.

Elrohir began to walk faster, encouraging Glorfindel's horse to move faster too, when he heard another splintering crack and looked back to see the back of the wagon begin to sag through a gap in the bridge deck. He slapped Glorfindel's horse on the rump and yelled at him to go. The stallion began to run as Elrohir turned back to help Glorfindel.

The mare was in a panic, the weight of the wagon dragging her down as the wheels sank through the planks. A section of the bridge collapsed behind them, the wooden beams falling into the waters below and speeding away like twigs in the raging waters. Elrohir watched it in fear and amazement, and then a shout caught his attention and he turned to see Glorfindel with his knife drawn. He was sawing at the harness that attached the wagon to the mare.

Elrohir grabbed at the harness and began pulling it with all his strength.

"Elrohir, release the harness! Let the wagon go! There is nothing in there worth risking your life for!" shouted Glorfindel.

The mare was screaming in pain as the wagon pulled her down, and she dug her heels in, fighting the dragging weight. As the bridge cracked and splintered around them, they fought to save the spirited mare. Finally, Glorfindel cut the leather harness from the small horse on his side and grabbed hold of it with all his strength, allowing Elrohir to repeat the action on his side.

"It is free!" called Elrohir.

Glorfindel allowed his side to release as soon as he felt the slack from Elrohir, and the little mare fell forward as the wagon began its slide down the splintering planks. Glorfindel steadied the mare, and began pulling her forward as Elrohir watched the wagon fall. He seemed mesmerized by the sight before him, and Glorfindel watched in horror as the far side of the bridge fractured and sent more planks and beams into the swirling waters below.

"Elrohir, MOVE!" he screamed.

A broken plank of the bridge caught the canvas that covered the wagon, ripping loose its edge and peeling it several feet back as the wagon slid free of the breaking bridge and fell to the water below.

Glorfindel yelled at the mare to go, and turned to grab Elrohir, who had not yet moved. He was within a step of the young elf when he heard Elrohir shout, "ARWEN!" and then watched as the young elf jumped off the bridge, following the wagon to the churning waters below.

"ELROHIR!" Glorfindel shouted as the bridge began to give way beneath his feet. He scrambled backward, and finally was forced to turn and run as the rest of the bridge began to disintegrate around him. As he ran off the bridge and up the small slope to where his horse was waiting, he saw Elladan already mounted and racing down the paths and cliffs along the riverbank. He looked back to see the wagon being swept downstream.

He swung himself up on his horse, his heart pounding as he raced after Elladan and Garthon, who had followed him. Elrohir had screamed Arwen's name and jumped. . . and as the implications of this sunk in, he felt a growing horror and fear that two of Elrond's children were about to perish in the raging waters of the Hoarwell.

* * *

Nûrsûl had left Imladris at daybreak, carrying nothing but his weapons, bedroll, water, a supply of lembas and a small pouch with necessities and the message he was to deliver. He was the fasted rider in Imladris, and often served as messenger. His name meant wind racer, and on this day he rode true to the name, pushing his beloved horse to his limit as they raced west along the Great East Road. The high waters at the Fords of the Bruinen had made for a tricky crossing and slowed him considerably, but he had made it safely. Several hours later he had seen signs of the camp made by Glorfindel and his company, and rested his horse in the same spot. He resumed his journey not long after, and again pushed his horse as hard as he dared. He and his exhausted horse reached the Hoarwell by dusk, and he was forced to dismount and walk closer to convince himself that what he was seeing was real.

The Last Bridge was gone.

He knelt down and began to crawl forward. He could determine that four elves had walked on the landing, as well as five horses, with one pulling the wagon. He made his way slowly to where the bridge used to be, and sat staring at the water and the far shore, then up and down the river. He believed they had made it across, but come morning he would inspect the shore in daylight, to see if the debris could shed further light upon this story.

He cared for his horse, watering him and setting him to pasture, then laid himself down on his bedroll and slept.

* * *

Lorinand (Lothlorien) - midday

Galadriel stood on the balcony of the flet, her eyes drawn to the northwest. Her hands gripped the rail of the balcony so tightly that her knuckles whitened. Her face was drawn and her lips pursed. She closed her eyes as the vision swept over her.

When it was past she opened her eyes, sensing that Celeborn was near. He stood next to her, his face concerned and his hands covering hers.

"You have had a vision," he said grimly.

"We must leave," she answered abruptly. "Now. We must take the Redhorn Pass and cross into Eregion."

"What have you seen?" Celeborn asked, even as he took her arm and escorted her inside. To his shock, he felt her tremble beneath his touch.

"Our grandchildren are in danger. A raging river, but I do not know exactly where," she answered even as she began to pack. She turned to look at Celeborn, but to her surprise he had left the flet. She walked to the door and heard him calling to one of Amroth's guards, asking for an immediate escort. Satisfied, she packed quickly with only necessary belongings. An hour later they were mounted and heading to the northwest. They would reach the northwest end of the woods by late evening, and resume their journey in the morning - up the Dimrill Stair and into the Redhorn Pass of the Misty Mountains.

* * *

Imladris- late afternoon

Elrond watched as Celebrían rose abruptly from where she was helping map the searched lands of Imladris. Her face drained of all color, and he jumped to his feet. He was nearly to her when she collapsed, Erestor catching her before she hit the floor. Elrond sank to the floor next to her, pulling her from Erestor's arms and into his own. He held her close, rocking her quietly in his arms as she slowly recovered.

"Elrond?" Erestor's voice sounded as if it were coming from far away.

Elrond turned to face his advisor only with considerable effort, for the pain in his own heart was as great as that Celebrían was experiencing.

"Send for Athranen, and have him prepare troops to ride west," he said roughly. "Harm has befallen Elladan and Elrohir . . . ."

* * * * *

fëa ---------spirit
hröa--------body
Anor-------sun
Elbereth---Varda, Valar who created the Stars
Eru---------Ilúvatar
Olórin------well, he has many, many names, we all know him, but he isn't in Middle-earth yet.

* * * * *

Chapter 4: Faces of Courage

* * * * *

Elrohir stood transfixed, staring at the crumbling bridge and the falling wagon. He watched as a beam bent, splintering up and outward, then finally breaking in half and falling into the raging waters below. His keen ears caught the sound of a scream, and he thought the little mare must be severely hurt to still be calling out her pain so loudly. A plank caught on the canvas cover then, tearing it several feet back from where it had been bound to the side of the wagon. He saw jars of the blackberry preserves that Glorfindel and Erestor had fought over just days before fall from the wagon, quickly lost in the depths of the river. The wagon had just slipped beyond the broken bridge when the sound of Glorfindel's voice calling his name drew his attention away from the destruction.

He looked up, and was starting to turn to do as Glorfindel bid, when another scream sounded. He looked down at the wagon, now falling, to see Arwen's terrified face staring back at him. Her arms reached out to him as she screamed his name again.

"ARWEN!" he yelled, fear filling him as he saw his sister plunging to what he thought was certain death. Without thought of his own safety, he jumped in after her.

The wagon hit the water right side up, the jarring impact breaking off two more of its wheels and plunging it partially beneath the surface of the water. Elrohir landed nearby in the water, feeling first a terrible pain as he hit debris in the water and then cold water filled his mouth and nose as the current dragged him under the logs and planks. He reached up, fighting his way to the surface and finally grabbing hold of a large beam and pulling himself up so that his head broke the surface of the water. He flung his arms over the top of the wood, crying out as another log crashed into his back. He gasped for air; then another rolling wave covered him. He choked on the foul water, but did not lose his hold on the floating log. It was several moments before he had his breath back and could inhale without coughing.

The current was rapidly sweeping him downstream. He watched the bridge recede in the distance, and then looked quickly around him. The wagon was some distance ahead of him, but he could not see Arwen. He felt the start of panic, wondering if she had been swept into the water. There was no way she could swim in this torrent. Hope for the best, Elrohir, he told himself. She must be in the wagon. She must!

He inched his way down to the end of the plank, kicking hard with both feet. Agonizing pain swept over him, and it seemed the roar of the river and the brightness of the sun both diminished as he fought to stay conscious. Pain and light and noise all returned with a vengeance, and Elrohir concentrated on the wagon to keep from crying out his agony. He had to catch up to it and see if Arwen was there. She had to be there; oh Elbereth, let her be there! He used one arm and his uninjured foot to paddle and kick his way closer to the wagon, and hope returned to him as he began to make progress.

* * *

Elladan raced parallel to the river, through the woods and hills, glimpsing the water only occasionally. He had to get far enough ahead of his sister and brother to be in position to help, but the paths were winding and it was taking far longer than he had time for.

He had felt his own heart fall when Elrohir jumped. He had seen his twin make the leap, but his mind refused to believe Elrohir would do such a thing. It wasn't until the wagon had bobbed back above the water and he saw the form of his little sister sprawled lifelessly on top of the statue, now broken, that he understood. He was still bewildered as to how Arwen had come to be in the wagon without their knowledge, but had to push those confusing thoughts aside to focus on how to rescue her. He had seen Elrohir disappear into the murky depths of the water, and then, after what seemed an eternity, he had surfaced in the midst of a small logjam. Hold on, Elrohir, he pleaded silently to his twin through the bond they shared. I will not lose either of my siblings this day!

"Elladan!" Garthon shouted.

Elladan looked over his shoulder to see Garthon on his horse, climbing to a higher path.

"This way is clear. We can get ahead of them and then angle back to the river!"

Elladan nodded and nudged his horse to follow Garthon. As soon as he reached the higher path, the two horses broke into a gallop. Elladan kept his eyes focused towards the river, and estimated they had come several miles when he saw a steep path leading to the riverbank. Garthon had also seen it, and led the way down the steep incline. Both elves leapt from their horses and moved to stand at the edge of the river, which raced by below them. The first of what they thought was bridge debris was just passing by them.

"I have rope," Garthon said suddenly. He ran back to his horse and opened his pack, pulling out a length of rope.

Elladan tied his rope to Garthon's, squeezing the knot tight and directing his will to the interwoven strands. The knot had to hold. He gathered the coils of slim rope into his arms and over his shoulder. He searched for several minutes for a tree that would suit his needs, and finally found one a ways south of the path they had ridden down. He climbed the tree, edging his way up and then out over a branch hanging above the waters. It put him only about fifteen feet over the river, and he had to hope that the wagon would choose to travel this side of the river and that his rope would reach it. He sensed Garthon behind him, and turning, helped tie the rope around the tree trunk between them. Elladan would toss the looped end at the wagon, and Garthon would help anchor the weight if Elladan was successful. And then they waited.

* * *

Elrohir battled the debris and churning waters for many long minutes before finally reaching the wagon. He lunged forward, trying to grasp the side of the wagon, only to have it slide from his bruised and bloody fingers. He cried his anguish to the wind as he tried twice more to grab the slippery wood, and twice more he slipped back into the waters. Ahead of him, the wagon spun as the front edge hit a large rock, and in frustration Elrohir shoved the plank he had used to keep afloat at the slowly spinning wagon.

The plank caught in the spokes of the remaining wagon wheel.

The force of the rotating wagon caused Elrohir, still holding on to the plank, to be spun around too, slamming him into the rock after the wagon slid around it. Elrohir gripped the plank tightly as the breath was knocked from him, and tears came to his eyes at this sudden new pain. He groaned and gasped for breath at the burning pain in his side, a red haze momentarily blurring his vision as he again fought to stay conscious. Elbereth, I am so close, he pleaded.

The wagon again picked up speed as no further obstacles blocked its path, and Elrohir slowly gathered himself for another try. He pulled himself hand over hand along the plank until he reached the wagon wheel, and then with a cry he put forth all his strength to haul himself up on top of the plank. He sat there for a moment, his hands gripping the wagon wheel so tightly that new blood was shed from the wounds caused by his fingernails digging into his palms. He drew in several breaths, shallow and short, as his injured ribs would not allow for more, and then climbed on to his knees and looked over the edge of the wagon.

He wept as he saw Arwen unconscious, but he could see her chest slowly rise and fall.

He crawled over the side of the wagon, attempting to land as gently as possible, but the wagon jolted and he fell inside, crying out as he landed on the scattered contents and debris in the bottom of the wagon. Jars of preserves bruised his back and sore side, and broken plaster cut his hands as he attempted to push himself free. A moan issued from Arwen and he pulled himself to her, heedless of his own pain.

She was lying partially on top of the broken statue, and partially underneath it. Blood matted the hair at the back of her head, and bruises and scrapes seemed to cover her. She was twisted at a funny angle, and Elrohir felt tears wash down his cheeks as he cried for the injury done to his beautiful little sister.

Thankful that she was mercifully unaware of her predicament and pain, Elrohir began to evaluate his surroundings. His every thought had been of getting to Arwen, and now that he had accomplished this, he had to figure out how to get them safely to shore. He started by throwing overboard every small item that was near him, saving only packages of lembas and foodstuffs that appeared dry in their wrappings. Once he had cleared space on the bottom of the wagon, he scooted to Arwen, the shooting pains in his leg reminding him of that injury, and carefully freed her from the heavy broken plaster and laid her on her back. Another tear formed in his eye as he saw the spare blankets Erestor had insisted on them bringing stacked in the corner of the wagon, and he stretched painfully to grab one. He spread it over Arwen, stopping for a moment to run his hands over her limbs. Her wrist was swollen and blood stained her dress. He closed his eyes to her injuries, and finished covering her with the blanket.

He looked up for the first time then, and surveyed the scenery around him. The area was wild, with no obvious paths or roads or villages nearby. He knew of ruins further south, from the maps they had studied, but here there was nothing. He felt a sinking despair that even if he could get them to shore, they were still far from home and injured and without horses. Suddenly, he looked up and across to the far bank. Elladan! Elladan was surely following the river, and Glorfindel too! Elrohir felt hope well within him, and wondered how cloudy his thinking must have been to forget his traveling companions.

He began searching the western shore, and was finally rewarded by a flash of white and gold on the high ridge above the waters. Glorfindel!

* * *

Glorfindel had raced along the river, staying along the low banks and keeping a close watch on Elrohir's struggles. Twice he had come near to leaping from his horse into the raging currents, in hopes of swimming to Elrohir and aiding him to the wagon or the shore. Both times Elrohir had managed to save himself, and now that he was in the wagon, Glorfindel raced up on to the high path, allowing his horse to gallop at the fastest pace the stallion could manage. He came upon Elladan's and Garthon's mounts moments later, and followed them to the rivers edge. He whistled the call of Imladris' guard, and at the return call he moved swiftly through the undergrowth to find Elladan and Garthon on their perch. He moved another twenty feet or so downstream and began edging out into the river, holding on to an overhanging branch, until he was waist deep in the water.

The wagon came into sight minutes later, and to Glorfindel's relief, Elrohir seemed to have made a paddle from the arm of the statue and was doing his best to move the wagon to the western shore. His long hair was matted and his face deathly pale, but the determination on the face of the young elf was unmistakable.

Glorfindel watched as Elladan threw his rope, looping it around the beam that was stuck in the wagon wheel. Elladan and Garthon both braced themselves against the tree, and strained against the weight of the wagon that threatened to pull them into the current as well.

As soon as he saw the wagon slow and begin to spin ponderously towards the shore, Glorfindel swam forward, crosswise to the current. He had tied his own rope to the base of the tree and swam with the other end in his hand.

"Hold on, Elrohir!' he called as he saw Elladan's rope tighten and jerk the wagon. He reached the wagon as Elrohir, unable to steady himself, slid from the wagon edge and into the water.

The wagon wheel creaked and groaned at the strain the rope was placing on it, and Glorfindel looked frantically for Elrohir, while knowing he had to tie off the wagon before the wheel gave way. He heard a splash, saw Elladan jump into the current, and felt a rush of relief when the dark head surfaced, unharmed by anything lying beneath the surface, and swam towards the wagon. Trusting Elladan to reach his twin, Glorfindel slipped the end of the rope through the lip where the harness had been, and tied it off.

"I have him!" Elladan shouted. He pulled Elrohir's head above water, and using Glorfindel's rope as a guide, pulled him to shore.

Garthon had backed off the log and run to the second rope, and already was anchoring himself, his heels dug into the mud as he began to pull on the rope. A moment later the last wagon wheel broke loose from the wagon, and the wagon slid free of the first rope. Glorfindel had swum towards shore, holding to the rope as well, and he could just again stand when the first rope broke. As the wagon began to drift downstream again, he ducked under the water as the second rope slid above his head, then began pulling it with all his might. He could feel the rope begin to move through his fingers, and knew that Garthon was also pulling. Stepping back as he went, they pulled the wagon to the shore, finally dragging it partially out of the water and on to the muddy shore. The four elves lay collapsed on the shore, exhausted, Elladan cradling the battered body of his twin in his arms.

In that ensuing moment of silence, sobbing was heard from within the wagon. Glorfindel leapt to his feet and reached over the side of the wagon. He carefully lifted Arwen, still wrapped in the blanket Elrohir had tucked around her, and cuddled her to his chest. One hand wrapped into his hair, and held on tightly. He sat down gracefully next to the twins, and held Arwen gently so that her brothers could see her and stroke her hair and whisper soothing words of endearment to her. She did not open her eyes or speak, just sobbed into Glorfindel's soaked tunic.

Glorfindel watched as Garthon retrieved the other length of rope and tied the wagon more securely. With a wordless nod the elf was gone, and Glorfindel knew he had gone scouting the higher ground in search of a suitable campsite.

"Assess Elrohir's injuries," Glorfindel instructed Elladan softly. He shifted slightly and began his own examination of Arwen. He could feel the sticky mat of bloody hair on his arm, and felt the wound gently, feeling a large bump and deep cut along the back of her head. She whimpered at the touch, and he tenderly stroked her cheek, crooning to her.

"Arwen, sweetheart, I am sorry that hurt. I need to see what other hurts you have and soon we will do something to stop the pain," he whispered in her ear.

He could feel the damaged tissue and bones of her hand by just hovering his own hand above hers, and her dress was torn along her side where she had a long gash that ran from her ribs to her hip. Another long cut along her leg was clotted over, but filthy. Numerous bumps, bruises, scrapes and small cuts marred the small figure. When Glorfindel considered the broken debris within the wagon, he was not surprised. She had landed and rolled in broken glass and plaster, been pinned beneath the statue and knocked unconscious by some heavy item that struck her on the back of her head.

Elrohir's leg lay against Glorfindel's, and when Glorfindel finished checking over Arwen he moved slightly and heard a moan escape Elrohir. He had bitten through his lip at some point, trying to stifle his cries of pain, and now he bit into that wound, causing it to bleed anew. Glorfindel blanched as he looked on the badly broken lower leg, the skin torn where the bone had punctured it. His eyes met Elladan's, and he saw the fear there.

"His ribs are broken too. His breathing grows ragged," whispered Elladan.

Garthon suddenly appeared next to them, touching Glorfindel lightly on the shoulder

"I have started a fire and spread out the bedrolls and blankets, straight up the hill and to the left. I will start carrying up any supplies that can be salvaged from the wagon. Do you need my aid carrying them?"

"No, we can manage. We will need to find clean water, or boil some from the river," he directed.

Garthon nodded, and then moved to the wagon to begin unloading all that he could salvage.

Glorfindel motioned for Elladan to rise, and then placed Arwen in his arms. She still held his hair, but when Elladan began to work her fingers free she willingly switched her hold to his hair. Elladan carried her up the hill, using all care not to jostle her, while Glorfindel turned his attention to Elrohir.

"Elrohir, little one, it is time to rest," he whispered as he knelt beside him. He stroked the dark hair and tenderly kissed him on the forehead. "I have never been more proud of you." He looked into the pain filled eyes, placed one hand on Elrohir's forehead and the other over his heart, and using all the healing ability he possessed, gently pushed the young elf into sleep. Then he lifted him and carried him to the campsite.

Darkness had come by the time they had Arwen and Elrohir to the campsite. Arwen still would not open her eyes or speak, and Glorfindel pushed her also into a deep sleep. Then Garthon built up the fire, and Glorfindel and Elladan set to the unpleasant task of cleaning wounds, stitching gashes and setting broken bones. Both knew that Elrohir's broken leg required Elrond's skill to set, but they managed to at least align the bones and bind the wound, and then splint the leg,

It was nearly dawn when they finished, and Elladan sat with a roll of bandages in his hand, staring at it absently. Glorfindel moved to sit next to him, removing the bandages and setting them aside. He put his arm about Elladan's shoulders and hugged him. Elladan buried his face in Glorfindel's shoulder and Glorfindel felt the sobs shaking his frame.

"They are going to recover," Glorfindel said softly, reassuringly.

"I thought they were both going to die," said Elladan, after breathing in deeply and controlling his voice. "All I can think of are Adar and Naneth at home. If we did not know Arwen was hidden in the wagon, I am sure they did not either. They must be so worried! And now the bridge is gone and Elrohir and Arwen are too badly injured to travel and we have so far to go to get home. . . Naneth must think Arwen lost. She will be heartbroken, Glorfindel, and Adar too."

Glorfindel gently rocked Elladan in his arms as the young elf spoke his fears and worries. When Elladan finished, he answered, "Rest for a while, Elladan. We will come up with a plan in the morning and find a way to send word to your parents." He gently pushed Elladan down on to the bedroll next to Arwen, so that she lay protected between her brothers. Glorfindel sat watch over the three as they slept, all the while contemplating how they would get the injured ones home and hopefully word to their parents before that.

* * *

Imladris - dawn

Celebrían dressed in trousers and a tunic, a light cloak thrown over her shoulders for warmth in the early morning chill. She pulled on her boots and tucked a dagger into her belt, then fastened her short sword at her side. She was packing a few necessities into a small pack when she heard Elrond come into the room.

She turned to face him, watching his face as he beheld her state of dress. He looked her up and down, finally meeting her eyes.

"Whatever danger Arwen is in, it lies west also," she said roughly. "I feel it in my heart, Elrond."

He walked to her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. For a long moment she clung to him, feeling the muscles ripple beneath his tunic as he wrapped powerful arms around her. He was her strength, and together they would bear whatever was to come.

"Come," he said softly. "The patrol is ready to leave. I have sent word to Lorinand as well."

Elrond mounted, dressed as if for battle in garments he had not worn since returning from Mordor over two hundred years earlier. With Celebrían beside him, they rode west.

* * *

Nursul awoke at first light, and quickly took care of his own needs before heading to the river bank. In the clear light of day, he could see the splintered fragments of wood that were all that remained of the bridge. This still failed to give him a picture of whether the travelers had safely crossed the bridge, and so he made his way carefully to the riverbank, and began a meticulous search of the muddy grass and debris that littered the bank in places. He had gone several hundred feet when a sparkle in the sun caught his eye. He dug in the mud, uncovering a glass jar, still full. He rinsed it in the muddy stream water, cleaning most of the muck from it. He read the label and then opened the jar, sniffing the blackberry preserves. He closed the jar and tucked it into his pack, and continued his search. A short way further he found a strap of leather, and with some work dug it from the muck. It was a piece of harness, and after washing it clean he saw the mark of Imladris carved in the leather.

Dread filled his heart, and he whistled for his horse. He climbed back to the flat land, away from the high floodwaters, and rode several miles downstream. He did not see any further signs of debris and saw no sign of the travelers. He made the decision to ride back to Imladris with all haste, and raise the alarm that harm may also have found those he was seeking.

* * *

Garthon returned mid-morning with fresh meat and water, having filled all the water skins at a small spring he found several miles away. He prepared the meat, and set it to cook, then came and sat next to Glorfindel, who still sat watching over the children of Elrond.

"The waters remain high as far as the eye can see," Garthon spoke quietly. "There is no evidence of any enemy in this area. Our best hope may lie in the bridge at Tharbad, and then we could follow the road east of the Loudwater back to Imladris."

Glorfindel was silent as he considered Garthon's report and all the implications of moving an injured elf and a small child over such a great distance.
"You could send me ahead. Search parties are surely looking for Arwen, so perhaps I will meet help as I travel, thus shortening the time to bring aid."

"Traveling as hard as you may, it would still take you at least a week," calculated Glorfindel, "and that is assuming the bridge at Tharbad still stands, you do not run into any sort of enemy and weather does not slow you."

"Aye," agreed Garthon. He looked at the three sleeping before them. "Shall I go?"

Glorfindel was silent for a moment. While sending Garthon ahead in search of aid would help word reach Imladris much quicker, he hesitated to send a lone elf on a long journey through rough terrain. He would normally risk only himself in such an endeavor, but he would not leave his young charges. He met Garthon's eyes, and saw the sincerity in the request. Garthon understood the dangers and he wished to do this. He clapped the younger elf on the back, and grasped his arm in the way of warriors. "May the stars of Elbereth light your way, and the Valar guide and protect your path," he answered softly.

Garthon packed himself a supply of lembas, for he would not stop to hunt, but left his bedroll upon the ground. Glorfindel knelt, rolled and tied it, and attached it to the young warrior's horse.

"I would leave it for Arwen," argued Garthon.

"You will have the harder journey," said Glorfindel, raising his hand to end the discussion. "Fare well, Garthon."

"Fare well, Glorfindel," replied Garthon, and he nudged his horse into a trot, heading south.

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

Chapter 5: A Mystery Unraveled

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

Late morning along the banks of the Hoarwell….

Glorfindel watched as Garthon rode off into the distance, hoping for his safety and also that he would meet groups from Imladris searching for Arwen. He wished there was way to send word more quickly, but the ability to communicate without speaking was not a skill he could practice over such long distances. When Garthon was gone from sight, he turned back to the small camp and the three figures still sleeping near the fire. Elladan, he knew, would wake soon. Together they would need to make this into a camp that would last them for at least a week or two, or find another suitable site and move the injured ones to it. And if they did need to move Elrohir, Glorfindel wished to do it while he was still oblivious to the world around him. He moved to a nearby rock and sat down, contemplating all there was to consider about their current situation.

There was no clean water source nearby, at least not one that Garthon had found. The area was secluded and trees gave some cover, but they were in a spot not easily defensible. They had the food they had brought for the trip, and much of it had been salvaged from the wagon. They also had tarps to form a shelter and extra blankets. Arwen had no extra clothing, however, and the dress she was wearing was damaged beyond repair. The bandages and medicines of their healing kits have already been sorely depleted.

Glorfindel turned his attention to the river, looking down upon the rushing muddy water thoughtfully. He pondered the distance from bank to bank, and thought that if someone were on the other side, they might be able to string rope across the torrent below and transport supplies across the chasm. The only thing missing was someone on the other side of the river.

"Glorfindel?"

Glorfindel turned to see Elladan sitting up, a slightly confused look on his face. Remembrance then seemed to come back to him and he quickly bent over his sister and then his twin, and his countenance fell.

"I hoped this had all been a bad dream," he admitted softly.

Glorfindel stood and walked to the fire, caressing Elladan's head as he moved by him. "Unfortunately, it is not," he said. He fixed a plate of food and then handed it to the young elf. "We have much work to do while they sleep. Eat, and we will start."

While Elladan ate, Glorfindel explained Garthon's absence and his assessment of their predicament.

* * *

Elladan listened as Glorfindel outlined the tasks they needed to accomplish. This was his captain, who planned patrols, maneuvers and training expertly and efficiently; but it was also his childhood friend - the one who was like another father to him, a favorite uncle who looked after him like his own child. He could see the worry in Glorfindel's eyes and how often he looked eastward. It was obvious that Glorfindel too was concerned for Elrond and Celebrían, and what effect Arwen's disappearance must be having on them.

Even as he listened to all Glorfindel said and his thoughts strayed to his family, Elladan was already determining what he would do first. Clean water was of primary importance, and Elladan knew he wanted to see his brother and sister clean, free of the mud and blood that had liberally coated them. They had washed their wounds with the fresh water that Garthon brought, but their hair and the rest of their bodies were filthy. A slight smile tugged at his mouth as he thought of what Arwen's reaction to being so dirty would be under any other circumstance.

He finished eating, then straightened his clothing and rebraided his hair. He stood, still listening to Glorfindel, as he strapped on his sword and quiver of arrows, and tucked his dagger into his boot. Then he carefully emptied the remnant of the fresh water into a container retrieved from the wagon, and hung the empty water skins from his belt.

"I will go to where Garthon found water, if I cannot find a nearer source," said Elladan.

He grasped forearms with Glorfindel, but did not resist when the warrior embraced him. He clung to him for a moment, then forced his fears down and turned to his siblings. Kneeling down between them, he stroked each dark head and kissed each brow, whispering words of love to them.

"I leave you Glorfindel, though I wish I could stay with you, but he is better able to aid you than I. I will try to find you fresh water and more comfortable ground on which to rest. Sleep well," he murmured.

He rose to his feet and whistled for his horse, who followed him faithfully as he set out on foot.

* * *
Late afternoon on the Great East Road, midway between Imladris and the Hoarwell…..

Nûrsûl heard the sound of an approaching party long before he saw them. He knew immediately by the beat of hooves that the riders were elves, and his own horse flicked his ears in joy at seeing his kin. He whistled his approach, and was gratified when an answering call resounded immediately. A smile crossed his face, for though he bore bad news, he at least bore it quicker than he might have otherwise.

The banner of Imladris swayed in the slight breeze as the riders came into sight, and Nûrsûl was surprised to see both the Lady and Lord of Imladris riding at the head of the column. He dismounted as they neared, and then both Elrond and Celebrían were before him.

"Did you find them? Are they coming?" asked Celebrían without greeting or preamble.

Nûrsûl bowed before her, but was unable to meet her eyes and so instead focused on Elrond.

"My Lord, the Last Bridge is gone, swept away in the floodwaters of the Hoarwell," said Nûrsûl softly. He watched as Elrond's eyes widened in fear, and respectfully lowered his own gaze. "I waited until morning, when I could more thoroughly inspect the ruins to see if they were across before this happened. He slowly pulled the leather strap and the jar of preserves from his pack. "I found these on the eastern shore, about a half mile downstream."

Elrond took the strap as Celebrían reached for the jar. Nûrsûl watched the agony flit across their faces, and tears slid freely from Celebrían's eyes as she held the jar to her breast. Her eyes closed and she trembled, but then seemed to steady herself. She opened her eyes and turned to Elrond.

"They live," she said calmly. "They are somewhere down that river and we will find them."

Elrond gazed west for a moment longer. "This proves only that the wagon met disaster, not all of them. They would not have continued on to Mithlond, however. They would head south, seeking a place where they could cross and return north on the eastern shore," he mused aloud. "But Arwen. . . .Arwen is only a small child. She could not go far from Imladris of her own power. Yet I did not sense any threat about the grounds of Imladris. But she is in danger and I fear for her. . . ."

Celebrían was already re-mounting her horse. There was a gleam in her eye, an almost savage look like the one that Nûrsûl had once seen on a mother cat as she defended her kittens from a predator. He was suddenly reminded that their gentle and fair Lady was the daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel, and there was bound to be an iron strength behind her will.

"Return to Imladris with news of the bridge. Find Thavron. He will know to start planning for a new one," Erestor instructed him.

Nûrsûl watched as the party continued quickly west, and smiled as the lead guards had to put forth a little effort to catch Lady Celebrían and surround her, as was their charge.

* * *

Glorfindel was hesitant to leave Elrohir and Arwen unattended for even a moment, and so concentrated on tasks he could do in their current campsite. He pulled a spare tunic from his own pack, and using his knife cut the sleeves off just below the shoulder seam. He pulled needle and thread from the packet of materials every warrior carried to mend his own clothing, and began stitching pleats in the armholes. He opened up one sleeve and cut it to make a belt, then tucked away the material from the other sleeve. At this point everything was an asset, and that strip of fabric might end up binding a wound or holding a splint in place. His tunic was still many sizes too large, but it was better than Arwen's current dress.

He warmed the water Elladan had left, and then knelt down next to Arwen. She was still deeply asleep. They had removed her dress the night before, and now in the light of day Glorfindel began to gently bathe her. Tear formed in his eyes at the bruises and scrapes and tears to her flesh, and he found even more shards of plaster and glass to remove from her skin. He carefully changed the dressings on the deeper cuts and wounds, flushing them with the water and applying healing balms before recovering them. The gauze and linen bandages they would boil and reuse. Her hand seemed to be mending well, although he found himself wishing Elrond could tend to the small fingers. Her hand was smashed, and while Glorfindel sensed he had all the pieces set properly he wished for Elrond's firm and steady hands to confirm his work. Such small hands, already so skilled with a needle and pencil, quill and paintbrush, he thought as he kissed the back of her uninjured hand.

Yet elven healing was already at work. The lighter bruises had already begun to fade and the minor scrapes were healing over. She will heal well, he reminded himself. By midsummer she will be home, whole and healed. But never the same, he admitted. It would be long before her terror faded. He covered her again with a blanket and turned his attention to Elrohir.

"You I want to scold soundly for jumping off a bridge and splintering your leg, but my delight in your courage overrides my desire to chastise," said Glorfindel softly as he first stroked the dark head and then began to examine the many wounds that covered the pale flesh. "You thought only of Arwen, not of your life. You could not know that she would not be thrown from the wagon, and that you might have saved her at less damage to yourself. You are still a silly, wonderful elfling."

"Not an . . elfling," said Elrohir hoarsely.

Glorfindel moved his hand to rest along the side of Elrohir's face, on an undamaged section of skin where he could provide comfort.

"Still an elfling," contended Glorfindel softly. "A heroic, brave, courageous, tenderhearted elfling." He smiled at Elrohir as the young elf pressed against his hand, seeking comfort in that touch.

"How. . is. . Arwen?" asked Elrohir in small gasps.

"Shhh, no more talking," soothed Glorfindel. "I will tell you everything, but spare your lungs and ribs that pain. Arwen still sleeps. Her hand is broken, and she has many scrapes and bruises. Two long gashes we stitched. She will wake with a headache from the blow to the head, but I will ensure the pain is dulled as much as possible."

He stroked Elrohir's hair, and watched as his eyes fluttered shut. "Garthon has ridden to Imladris for help, but it may take a few days. You cannot be moved anywhere soon, but he will get the word that Arwen is with us to your parents as quickly as possible. Elladan is seeking a better campsite, closer to clean water.

"You have many bruises and cuts, broken ribs and a broken leg. Dirty river water got into your throat and airways. You are sore and hoarse and in pain, little one," Glorfindel leaned close. "Go back to sleep. When you next wake, we should be able to bathe you and make you more comfortable." Glorfindel looked into Elrohir's pain-dulled but trusting eyes, and pushed him back into healing sleep.

Elladan returned mid-afternoon, sounding the Imladris call as he approached. Glorfindel answered, grateful for his safe return, though he knew that his worry was likely needless. Elladan nodded at him as he dropped to his knees by his siblings, quenching his need to see how they fared before sharing any news he had brought. After several moments spent with each, he came to sit near Glorfindel.

He unfolded a map and spread it out across the rock between them. "I estimate that we are here," said Elladan, pointing at a small x he had made on the parchment, "probably fifteen to twenty miles south of the bridge. I was surprised to think we had come that far, but from the few landmarks on this side, it seems to be true." He carefully opened a second piece of parchment, this map drawn entirely in his own hand. "This is our location, and here is the spring Garthon found. I found two others, one farther south from his and one slightly closer to us. The best location of the three is the one Garthon found. We would have a clear view of the river and of any approach from the high ridge. A fire would be seen a long distance. The closest location is not bad, but the view to the river is impeded. The other is simply too far, I think."

Glorfindel picked up the map Elladan had drawn, noting the distances and locations of springs, natural trails and passage to the river. At each spot he had also estimated the width of the riverbed and the terrain of the land near the shore on either side. Glorfindel was impressed by the map and all Elladan had thought to include, and he could not help but to test his pupil and see what ideas were percolating in his mind.

"Do we have enough rope?" he asked.

Elladan immediately shook his head. "No, the length is too great. To create an adequate rope bridge over the river anywhere along here would require a double or triple stranded line. I have never tried a rope bridge over this length. Have you?"

"No," answered Glorfindel honestly. "It would be dangerous, but perhaps we could rig a carry line to transport supplies across." Inwardly he smiled, pleased that Elladan had considered the option and what it would take to do such a thing.

"Elrohir is badly bruised across his back and chest, and his broken ribs make any movement painful," said Elladan thoughtfully. "We can make a litter, but we cannot both carry him and leave Arwen alone. This ground along the upper ridge is level enough that Elrohir's horse could pull the litter, but even still it would jostle him." He considered this for a moment, then grinned. "Arwen is so small, we can lay her on the same litter with Elrohir and barely notice the difference in weight."

Glorfindel grinned back at him. "I will pack the supplies we salvaged and load them on the horses. The little mare is to carry nothing. She is walking well enough, but her back is strained. You start work on the litter."

Glorfindel caught the pleased look on Elladan's face, but said nothing. The young elf would find it inappropriate to take joy in anything right now, yet he was obviously pleased to be able to try his hand at creating the design in his head while also helping his siblings. He went immediately to work, using parts of the wagon he could pry apart, and wood and boughs from the nearby trees. Tarps to be used for tents on their trip were still in the wagon, undamaged, and in just over an hour Elladan had used the rope to bind the contraption together. He disappeared back to the river one last time, and reappeared carrying the remains of the statue, now armless. He set it down on top of the litter.

"This thing weighs more than Elrohir and Arwen combined," said Elladan. "Let us see if the litter can support its weight."

Glorfindel took two poles in hand, while Elladan picked up the rear poles. They both bounced the statue a bit and rolled it slightly from side to side, but the litter held. Unable to hide his smile, Elladan rolled the statue into the nearby woods and then the two of them set the litter down near Elrohir. Elladan began padding the litter with all the blankets and bedrolls they had left, and then waited for Glorfindel to lift his twin and move him on to it.

Glorfindel slipped an arm under Elrohir gently, cradling him in his arms while trying to lessen any pressure on his broken ribs and bruised back. Despite his caution, Elrohir moaned and cried out softly, and then coughed, a slight rattle heard deep in his chest. His eyes fluttered open, but the only sound he could make was one of pain. Glorfindel winced as well, and laid the injured elf on the litter. He tucked the blanket in around him.

"I am sorry, Elrohir," he murmured as he again touched the elf's face. "I will give you something for the pain in just a moment."

Glorfindel moved to the healing kit he had just packed, and quickly withdrew the vial he had already prepared. He mixed it with water, and then turned back to Elrohir. Elladan lay on his side next to his twin, his arm beneath Elrohir's head and neck, so that their faces were nearly touching. His other hand rested lightly against Elrohir's face. He took the vial from Glorfindel, and with coaxing and soothing words poured the bitter liquid into Elrohir's mouth and then lightly stroked his neck to help him swallow.

"Sleep, my brother, for I do not want you to feel even a twinge more pain," he whispered in Elrohir's ear. Elladan held him until Elrohir's eyes glazed over and slipped shut, and his pain-wracked body relaxed.

Glorfindel watched as Elladan sighed and then steeled himself as Glorfindel picked up Arwen, preparing himself to see another loved one in pain. Thankfully, Arwen remained asleep and blissfully unaware. He laid her next to Elrohir, and straightened and tucked the blanket in around her. Her arm was exposed for a moment, and Glorfindel saw the tiny flicker of light from another shard of plaster embedded in her arm. He gritted his teeth in frustration as he gently removed it and flicked it aside.

"I have visions of Arwen as a grown lady, still plucking the occasional piece of plaster from her skin," he growled in annoyance.

Elladan managed a brief smile as they gently tied the two to the litter, using their own trousers and other strips of cloth in hopes of irritating their wounds the least. Glorfindel stowed the remainder of their gear on the horses, and then gathered the four near to him.

"We are going to walk to a new campsite," he informed the four horses. He turned first to Elrohir's horse, acknowledging the concern the horse had for his elf. "You may follow behind Elladan, so you can see your master." He stroked the head of his own horse. "I ask you to bring up the rear. Make sure we stay together, and ensure your lady friend is well." He stroked the nose of the little mare last. "You have been brave thus far, and made it many miles despite your injuries. This trip is only a few more miles, and then you will rest for several days. You bore the heaviest burden before; now you shall bear none. Be strong, brave one."

Glorfindel moved back to the litter, squatted down, and grasped the back poles in his hands, and then lifted on Elladan's command. Elladan would lead, as he had scouted the terrain and knew the route, while Glorfindel would watch the injured ones for any signs of duress. With a short whistle, Elladan began climbing the rocky terrain to the high cliff, and all followed his lead.

* * *

Elrond climbed into the maple tree at the spot they had chosen to rest the horses. He climbed as high as the limbs that were sturdy enough to hold him allowed, and searched to the southwest. They were close enough to the Hoarwell that he could make out the ridges that bounded the river on each side, though he could not yet see the water. He needed this moment of silence to think, to make sure he was clearly thinking of what choices he had to make. Celebrían was intent on heading down the banks of the Hoarwell. Erestor was torn between wanting to ensure that Glorfindel, the twins and Garthon were well; and not wishing to abandon the search for Arwen. It was not that they were abandoning the search for Arwen, Elrond reminded himself. Groups were searching the grounds and the patrols were searching from their borders inward. But Erestor is right to want someone present should she be found, he argued Erestor's position. Elrond knew she was harmed in some way, but alive. Celebrían now seemed to sense it even more strongly than he did. She insisted that whatever harm had befallen Arwen, they still had to go south. Even now, Elrond could hear them arguing, something which he had not witnessed before. His advisor and his wife had always acted as a team; never had they been at serious odds like this.

"The only way Arwen could be this far from Imladris is if she stowed herself away in the wagon and went with her brothers!" said Erestor, exasperated. " Please, Celebrían, we do not . . . ."

"Wait!" Celebrían interrupted him. "What did you just say?"

Elrond would have laughed at the sight of Erestor rendered momentarily speechless - Celebrían had just raised her voice at him! - but he was stunned at what he had heard. Elrond climbed swiftly down from the tree.

"Erestor!" she pulled on his tunic sleeve. "Could she have done that? Was there room for her in the wagon?" When he did not immediately answer, she shook him. "Erestor, think!"

Elrond reached the ground and immediately moved between them. He could tell Erestor was deep in thought, and he also knew that one had to let the advisor think through whatever he was pondering, without interruption. His answers were always sound.

Erestor backed up against a rock, leaning on the edge of it. His eyes were far away, but his lips were moving as he spoke quietly to himself.

"We pushed the wagon back inside the barn, and then let the mare loose, so we could check the front wheel. I had pulled the canvass top tight before that, and when I came back into the barn, after the groom had finished the repair and reported to me that it was done, the canvass was loose on the edge. I thought nothing of it, that the groom might have tucked a tool back inside the edge. Everyone was ready to go and laughing and singing in the courtyard, so I tightened the cover down again, to make sure no water could get through it, and then the mare was rehitched and she pulled the wagon from the stable."

"And they got a late start because of the wagon wheel," Celebrían added breathlessly. "Arwen had time to go to the waterfall, see the other children, and then return to the stable. This is why she cannot be found anywhere in Imladris!" She paused then, as the same realization had occurred to all listening to Erestor's words. "Arwen was in the wagon! The wagon that fell from the bridge!"

Elrond pulled Celebrían to him, covering her shaking hands with his own, and calming her. "She lives," he reminded her, whispering those words in her ear. He paused then, looking at the waiting guards and Erestor. "That Arwen is with her brothers is the most likely reason we have not yet found her. Let us continue to the Hoarwell, and then we will head south."

Elrond held Celebrían's horse as she mounted, and then turned to his horse. He realized Erestor was still leaning against the rock, still talking to himself. "I can not believe I did not check that wagon one more time. How careless of me!" Elrond felt a flash of mirth at the picture his advisor presented - Erestor who doublechecked the doublechecking, who thought of every eventuality! Excitement rose within him, then, for if Arwen were with Glorfindel and the twins, then her situation was far better than what he had imagined when he thought her all alone or in the hands of someone who wished her harm.

"Come, Erestor!" he called.

The elf broke from his reverie and leapt on to his horse. With a new determination, he pushed his horse to the head of the column, his body language clear: if he had helped to lose Arwen, he would also be the first to find her.

* * *

Elladan led the way into the small clearing near the spring. He had selected the spot earlier, sure Glorfindel would agree with his choice, and already had dug a small fire pit, gathered some dry wood and cleared the ground of stones where the bedrolls would lay. He stopped, and called out to Glorfindel, "Here."

The pallet was set down, and both elves immediately knelt on either side of it to check their passengers. Arwen licked at her lips when Elladan touched her cheek, and moved slightly under the blankets. Elrohir, still drugged, did not move or respond when they touched him, but his chest slowly rose and fell.

"It is better he not feel the pain right now," said Glorfindel, voicing Elladan's thoughts as well.

The bedrolls they had lain on before were shaken out and laid on the ground again, but this time they lifted the blankets that the two lay on, and slid them to their beds. The litter was undone, and Elladan used the tarps to build a small shelter in the trees while Glorfindel started the fire. The water from the spring was cold and clean, and Glorfindel filled all the skins and containers they had and then started heating water in their pans. He fingered the largest of the pots, and laughed softly.

Elladan leapt down from the tree where he had been securing the tarp, and sat across the fire from Glorfindel. He cocked an eyebrow, knowing full well he looked like his father when he struck this particular pose, and waited for Glorfindel to explain the source of his mirth.

"Erestor," said Glorfindel finally, still smiling. "He packed twice as many pots as any group could ever use, including this big one. Because we have it, we can heat water to bathe Elrohir and Arwen."

"Good old Erestor," replied Elladan wistfully. He was quiet for a moment as he determined that he would do something nice for the old underappreciated elf who did so much for them.

"Do not overdo it being nice," warned Glorfindel with a laugh. "Good old Erestor enjoys every moment of the verbal sparring he does with you. He would not know what to do if you were suddenly nice to him all of the time."

Elladan laughed aloud then. There were some things in his life he was glad for, and even took for granted. One was that Glorfindel always seemed to read his thoughts, and the other was that Erestor would always scold him and he would always tease back. A feeling of warmth settled over him as he thought of what he was most glad for: that his father and mother would know that their children needed help and that nothing would stop them from finding him and his siblings.

* * *

Arwen awoke just as the sun was setting over the tops of the trees in the western sky. Her first thought in that brief moment between sleep and waking was that she could not see the sun like this from her room. Then she moved her head slightly, and a terrible throbbing pain made her cry out. She tried to raise her hand to touch her head, and a shooting pain ran up her arm. She felt loving hands touching her forehead and soothing words filtered through to her through the pounding in her head and her own sobs.

"Arwen, sweetheart," said Elladan tenderly. "I am here. You are safe, little one."

Arwen calmed herself and forced her eyes open. Elladan was next to her, and Glorfindel on the other side. She could see unfamiliar trees and what looked like a tent above her. A flood of memory returned to her, then, of the terrible trip trapped in the wagon, her fears of being caught where she should not have been, and then the sounds of the screaming horse and falling a long way into the river. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the memories to go away, but they did not. She bit her lip, trying not to cry, but the sobs started again and with each one her head ached more. Pain and fear overwhelmed her, and she could feel Elladan's hands on her but could not hear him.

"Nana!" she cried out. "Ada!" But neither her mother nor her father came to wake her from the nightmare she was in. Instead firm hands grasped her chin, and a bitter liquid was forced into her mouth. Gentle hands stroked her throat and held her mouth closed until she swallowed, which she had to in order to breathe. "Nana, I need you. Ada, make the hurt go away, please, Ada," she pleaded through her sobs.

The pain dulled, her eyelids became so heavy she could not open her eyes, and she felt herself slipping into the darkness.

* * * * *

Chapter 6: Found

* * * * *

Elladan and Glorfindel sat back down on the ground, relief evident on both of their faces. Elladan sighed, and then gently stroked his sister's cheek, glad Arwen was finally calm, even if her sleep was drug induced. Turning his gaze to Glorfindel, Elladan saw the weariness in the warrior and realized he had not slept at all the night before. He stood, and spread another bedroll out next to Elrohir and Arwen.

"I will take first watch," Elladan informed Glorfindel. He watched as Glorfindel considered arguing, but gave in to his need for rest and lay gracefully down by the injured ones. Elladan sat back down near the fire, building it up to shine brightly in the night.

May the light be a beacon to you, Adar, he thought. Elrohir and Arwen need you.

* * *

Elrond lay with Celebrían nestled in his arms, her body spooned against his, as she slept soundly. He pressed his lips to her hair and kissed her gently, glad that she had found rest. He had slept fitfully, his mind not allowing him any respite from the thoughts and worries for his children and the plans he was detailing for whatever they might find on the road ahead. Their camp was quiet, with those not on watch sleeping or resting quietly. In the distance Elrond could see Erestor perched on an outcropping of rock a half dozen feet above the path.

He absently stroked Celebrían's hair as his mind inventoried what provisions they carried with them against what resources they might need in the days ahead. They were traveling light and fast, and already messengers were being arranged to transport messages and supplies, if needed. You were regent to Eregion and Herald to the High King, he reminded himself. The preparations and plans for this mission could be made in your sleep, were your children not involved. But his children were involved, and they and Celebrían were his only weaknesses.

A soft call sounded in the distance, and several guards quickly faded into the night while others extinguished the glowing embers of the few fires within their camp. Elrond sat up, disentangling Celebrían from his arms, and turned to where Erestor had been sitting. The spot was vacant. Elrond rose and moved quickly to where Erestor had been.

"Elrond," called Erestor softly.

Elrond looked up to see Erestor standing on a high point on the rocks, and in just moments had joined him.

"There," said Erestor, pointing to the southwest. "A fire."

A flicker of orange could be seen perhaps twenty miles in the distance, in a clearing by a clump of trees along the river. The size and intensity of the flame did not vary much, confirming the idea that it was a controlled blaze. Elrond felt his heart leap and knew that they had located his children. He clapped Erestor on the shoulder.

"It is them, Erestor," he whispered.

He turned, leapt quickly down the rocks, and ran back to camp. He had instinctively strapped on his sword before leaving the campsite, and now he grabbed his pack, slinging it over his shoulder. He felt Erestor's restraining hand a moment later.

"You have scouts, Elrond. Let them do their job, and wait until morning. The river is treacherous in daylight, and more so now."

Elrond jerked his arm from his advisor's grasp, but Erestor's other hand quickly descended to stop him. For a moment their wills locked, and the two engaged in a silent struggle as Elrond tried to pull away and Erestor tightened his grip.

"If you go, Celebrían will follow. Do you wish to risk her on these banks in the dark?" hissed Erestor.

Elrond started to argue, formulated words permitting Erestor to keep Celebrían safe, even thought of ordering Erestor to release him immediately. It was the pain in his wrist that Erestor held in an iron grasp that brought him to his senses. He relaxed, knowing that Erestor was right on all counts. The ground was treacherous, he did have capable scouts whom he needed to trust to do their jobs, and he would not have Celebrían endangered. Erestor's grip slowly lessened, and he took the pack from Elrond and placed it back on the ground. He motioned to one of the guards to indicate where they were going, and then led Elrond to the rock where he had been sitting.

"Anor will rise and the scouts will return not long after. With the information they bring we will know what to expect and will be able to formulate a plan of rescue," said Erestor, his words meant to soothe and comfort, for both knew that Elrond already knew these things. They sat on the rock and watched the tiny orange flame until the rising light of Anor obscured it.

* * *

Elladan was finishing his watch when Arwen stirred, restless. Glorfindel was awake and took up a position near the fire, while Elladan moved to comfort his sister. He lifted her carefully into his arms, pillowing her head against a rolled blanket on his arm and cuddling her against his chest. She was immediately comforted by the presence of her brother. He sang softly to her, and she awoke gradually as the pain draught wore off.

"Arwen," Elladan spoke her name in song, humming around the word. He watched as her eyes fluttered open and slowly focused on him. The way he held her, she could not move quickly, nor would she feel the need to. "Hello, sweetheart."

"Elladan?" she asked hesitantly, unable to see anything beyond her brother and the curtain his hair formed around him.

"I am here, and you are safe in my arms, little one," he said and kissed her on the forehead. "You are still hurt, so do not move quickly, for that will aggravate your wounds."

Arwen was silent for a moment, secure and content in her brother's arms. She again felt pain, but it did not scare or surprise her now, and she concentrated on Elladan instead of it, just as her Ada had taught her.

"Where is Elrohir?" she finally asked.

"He is sleeping," answered Elladan truthfully. "He awoke last evening and spoke to Glorfindel. He wanted to know if you were well."

"He is badly hurt," stated Arwen softly.

"Yes, he is. But he is strong and will recover."

Elladan watched as tears formed in Arwen's eyes, but knew these were not due to physical pain or fear. Shame and guilt could be easily read in her expression.

"Will he ever forgive me?"

"Forgive you for what, Arwen?" asked Elladan gently.

"He is hurt because of me," came the tearful reply.

"Elrohir is hurt because the bridge collapsed in the flood," answered Elladan firmly. He saw confusion in her expression. She opened her mouth to speak, stopped, and then repeated the action. Pity filled his heart.

"Arwen, how did you come to be in the wagon?"

Arwen buried her face in his tunic, and Elladan regretted his words. He wished to relieve her of the guilt she felt, but perhaps she was not ready to speak of this now.

"We can talk about this another time," he whispered, stroking her hair.

"I was so scared," Arwen choked out. "I fell in the water and mud, and could not get my doll and it was the one you and Elrohir gave me and he said that you did not like little sisters who cried and so I ran back but I did not want Nana and Ada to see me cry and so I went to the barn and the wagon was there. I crawled inside, because I wanted to see you before you left. But I fell asleep and you closed me in and when I woke I could not get out and it was hot and I was so scared!"

Elladan felt tears slipping down his own cheeks as Arwen poured out her grief. He rocked her and hummed to her until she calmed, and wisely remained silent, allowing her to decide if she wished to continue.

"I was scared, but then I decided I wanted to go with you! So when Glorfindel checked the wagon I kept silent. He is going to be angry with me, and Nana and Ada too. I should not have done what I did. I knew it was wrong and I did it anyway," Arwen finished in a whisper, her face again buried in his tunic. When Elladan did not speak, her misery heightened and another sob choked her. She pushed away from him, whimpering softly as she put pressure on her broken hand. "I am sorry, Elladan. Please forgive me!"

Elladan turned her to face him again, gently setting her splinted hand back on her chest. He waited until she looked him in the eye, and then spoke, "Arwen, I am not angry with you. You are my sister, and I love you. We thought you might die in that river, and I am thankful you are alive. Elrohir is not angry, nor is Glorfindel. I am sure that Adar and Naneth are worried sick about you, though."

"I miss Nana and Ada," admitted Arwen tearfully.

"I know you do. I miss them too," answered Elladan. "I want nothing more than to see Adar walking up the path to us."

A low moan caught their attention then, and Elladan realized Elrohir was also awakening. Glorfindel was immediately at his side, gently lifting his head and speaking to him.

"Water," gasped Elrohir, the sound just audible to elven hearing.

Glorfindel held the water skin to his lips, dribbling drops of cool water past the parched lips and then lightly washing his face too.

"Arwen?" Elrohir asked hoarsely.

Elladan moved into sight of his twin, and turned so Elrohir could see Arwen. Elrohir was not satisfied until he could touch her, his trembling hand stroking her hair. Gradually his hand slipped back to his side and his eyes closed, but his breathing seemed forced and his pain was obvious to all.

Glorfindel held a bitter liquid to Elrohir's lips and was rewarded with a weak frown. Glorfindel would not be dissuaded, however, and at the simple command that issued from him, Elrohir drank the potion and drifted back into sleep.

Arwen watched Elrohir with tears streaming down her face, but when Glorfindel approached her with a dose of the painkiller, she pursed her lips.

"You will sleep and heal better if you are not in pain, Arwen. Please, take it for me. Take it so Elladan doesn't have to see you in pain," he coerced her.

"Will there be enough for Elrohir?" she questioned.

"There is plenty," lied Glorfindel.

She believed him, and took the bitter liquid willingly, and then drank of the water Elladan held to her mouth. When she was asleep, Elladan laid her back down next to Elrohir.

Elladan exchanged looks with Glorfindel, reading the worry evident in the older elf's face, then lay down next to Elrohir and curled about his battered twin carefully so as not to disturb his wounds. Elrohir is strong and he will recover, he reminded himself. He kept watch over his brother for the rest of the night, and hoped his words would prove true.

* * *

Glorfindel allowed the fire to burn to low embers as Anor appeared in the eastern sky. Their camp was well situated, and from the clearing, Glorfindel could see far to the east. As he scanned the shore he recognized small shapes moving several miles off, and when he followed his line of sight to where the eastern end of the Last Bridge would be, he saw more figures. His heart leapt with joy as he recognized the banner of Imladris. Elrond had come for his children.

* * *

Elrond seethed under the restraint enforced upon him by his guards and advisors. Next to him, Celebrían was tapping her hand impatiently against her thigh. Dawn had come and still the scouts had not returned, for the terrain was rough and darkness had slowed their progress. Elrond stood and, grasping Celebrían by the hand, pulled her to her feet.

"Enough of this waiting!" he said impatiently, showing a rare fit of temper. "There is little point in awaiting the scouts' arrival. We will follow and meet them on their return path."

Elrond felt some satisfaction in seeing his guards scramble to move ahead of him on the path, but bristled at the long-suffering sigh that issued from Erestor. He turned and glared at his advisor, but Erestor merely huffed back at him and rolled his eyes. Without a word to Elrond, Erestor began barking orders, directing a contingent of warriors to remain at the camp to await possible messages and news of needed supplies. Then, in a surprisingly swift move, Erestor situated himself behind the lead guards but ahead of Elrond and Celebrían, and led them forward.

"I did not know Erestor could be so commanding," whispered Celebrían.

"We all tend to forget that Erestor was a scout and warrior long before he chose lore and administration," answered Elrond with a smile.

A slight growl ahead of them indicated Erestor had overheard their comments, and Elrond could not help but add, "And he has the finest in elven hearing."

"I chose this path in life," Erestor spoke as if to himself. "I blame no one but myself."

Celebrían laughed aloud, and Elrond silently thanked Erestor, for he had again lightened her spirits by poking humor at himself. Then he turned his attention to the path and the western shore. They had gone only a few miles when a hint of gold among the trees in the far distance caught his attention. He stopped abruptly, causing Celebrían to bump into him, and he quickly pulled her to his side and pointed to the southwest.

"Look! Do you see the hint of gold?" he asked, excitement in his voice.

"Glorfindel! It is Glorfindel!" cried Celebrían. She climbed swiftly to a high rock a short distance ahead and waved her hands, knowing that her silver mane would be as easily seen as his gold. She jumped up and down, calling a shout of joy when Glorfindel waved back.

The miles seemed to fall away slowly, when in reality they covered the distance swiftly considering that the rough terrain made horseback riding nearly impossible. The guards had taken the horses on a higher trail a mile or so east of the river, where the path was more suitable for the animals. Those on foot stayed near the river, the rushing water at times drowning out all other sound, and moved with all speed on feet made light by hope to where the missing ones awaited them. It was noon when they reached their goal.

Glorfindel stood on the bank of the river, relief on his face, and at his call Elladan appeared from a clump of trees further up the hillside. His face lit at the sight of his parents and he called his greeting, though it was lost in the sound of rushing water. He disappeared for a moment, and when he next appeared he had a small bundle in his arms.

"Arwen!" cried Celebrían. "Arwen!" She sank to her knees, thankfulness and joy overcoming her, and it was Erestor who knelt beside her and rejoiced with her.

Elrond's clinical eyes were taking in the bandages and blood matted hair, as well as the slightly glazed look in his daughter's eyes. The smile on her face, however, and the way she held her arms out to them, answered the most important questions in his mind. She was safe and not seriously injured. His seeking gaze moved next to the slightly hidden area in the trees, but a tarp obscured his view. He knew Elrohir must be there, and the looks of worry, but not grief, on the faces of Elladan and Glorfindel told him his son was badly injured but alive. Garthon was unseen, but Elladan and Glorfindel had communicated adequately that he had ridden south for help.

"Master Elrond," Athranen was at his elbow. "Stand to the side."

Elrond moved aside and watched as Athranen took an arrow with a long length of rope attached to it and nocked it in his bow. He was aiming for a large tree on the western shore, and after a moment drew back the bow and loosed the arrow at the target.

It landed in the river many feet from the shore.

One of the warriors quickly pulled the rope and arrow back to them, and Athranen adjusted his stance and angle to try to compensate for the gusts of wind that blew down the river and the arc created by the added weight of the rope. He loosed a second arrow, but it again fell short.

Much discussion ensued, and a young warrior moved to stand near Athranen. He carried a more powerful bow, longer and with a higher draw weight. He had long been the recipient of both respect and teasing over his excellence in shooting with accuracy over long distance, for he was young and had never used the bow in warfare or defense. He spent several minutes attaching the rope to one of his arrows, and then aimed for the same tree. The twang of the bow sounded loudly, and all watched as the arrow sailed west and imbedded itself neatly in the large tree.

Across the river, Glorfindel's smile nearly split his face as he tugged the arrow loose and tied the rope loosely about the tree. He stood back and watched as the young warrior nocked a second arrow, and imbedded it close to the first. Glorfindel then took the unused sleeve of the tunic he had cut down for Arwen, and tied it around the tree. He tied the two lengths of rope together around the tree and over the smooth fabric, allowing the tree to act as a pulley. He tied another piece of short rope, left from their supplies, snugly below that to serve as a lower anchor to the pulley, to help keep the rope looped about the tree from sliding down. When satisfied with the knots, he tugged on the rope, and waited patiently as the actions were repeated on the other side of the river.

While Arthanen finished the pulley, Elrond was busy preparing a basket they could send over immediately. He packed bandages and strips of linen, herbs for pain killing and healing of wounds, and his small package of surgical instruments. Last, he included pieces of parchment and quill pens, with a note stating his relief and love and asking for details of the injuries to Elrohir and Arwen.

The basket was attached with a strong clip to the rope, and the slow process of pulling the ropes around the trees was started. The wind caused the basket to teeter at times, but it did not open or fall and Elrond breathed a sigh of relief when the basket was finally in Glorfindel's hands. He could not help but think of elflings opening gifts on their begetting days when he saw Elladan and Glorfindel quickly go through the basket, but the moment of humor disappeared as quickly as it had come when Elladan grabbed a small packet and went immediately to the tarp where the injured ones lay. They are in need, thought Elrond with dismay. Glorfindel sat down with the parchment and pen, and spent several minutes writing. Elrond's impatience grew and he paced along the muddy shore until the basket was returned to him.

He grabbed the basket, snatching the note out of the bottom. He read it quickly, his heart falling as he considered the words before him. He raised his eyes to meet Glorfindel's across the wide expanse of water, and much more than facts were communicated in that moment. Glorfindel's fine script outlined symptoms and the items they would need to treat him properly, but his gaze carried the message Elrohir needs you.

"Erestor!" barked Elrond. When Erestor appeared instantly at his side, he handed him the note from Glorfindel. "The checked items remain back at the camp by the Last Bridge. Send for them. The rest I will prepare to be sent over now."

Erestor took the parchment silently and scanned it quickly.

"Athranen!" Elrond called for his captain next. He drew the warrior aside, and spoke in a soft voice. "How can I get across the river using those ropes?"

Athranen blinked and opened his mouth to protest, but was stopped by Elrond's upraised hand. "I do not want to hear it is unsafe or not a good plan. My son is in need of my aid, and I will go even if I have to swim. If you can stabilize a second line, I will walk the rope. If you want to tie me like the basket and winch me over, I will go as cargo."

"Lady Celebrían also?" asked Athranen softly.

"No," answered Elrond shortly. "I will have Erestor ensure she does not follow."

Athranen directed the retying of the lines after the basket was sent over and returned for the last time. The second line was set several feet above the first to allow for a handrail, while the bottom would serve as the footbridge. It was tied tight on Glorfindel's side of the river, and then wrapped several times around the tree on Athranen's side and anchored to trees behind them. Athranen tested the line's safety, applying weight and force to the line while his warriors added their strength to the anchoring lines. When satisfied, he nodded to Elrond.

A third line of rope had been belted about Elrond's waist by a tight-lipped Erestor. None present felt the rope bridge adequate, and Erestor had even snapped at him that not even a wood elf would attempt such a crossing. Elrond had faced them grimly, his glare and body language brooking no argument, and instead of listening to them, he had pulled Erestor aside and informed him that Celebrían was not to follow, even if that meant they had to tie her up and put her on her horse for the journey to Tharbad. Celebrían had not argued with Elrond about making the attempt, nor attempted to dissuade him. But Elrond could see the gleam in her eyes that said she would go if he did not, and if he made it she would follow.

Elrond leapt nimbly to the rope where it was wrapped about the tree, and found his footing sure as he began the walk across the Hoarwell. He held the top line loosely, allowing it to slide through his fingers as he moved forward, and found the crossing relatively smooth until he reached the middle of the current. There the winds were strongest, and he found himself buffeted by the air currents as they alternately seemed to push him to the side and downward, and then uplift him and knock him forward. Twice he slipped and grabbed on to the top line, leaning over it as his feet sought purchase on the footrope. Once his feet were back under him and he felt balanced, he closed his eyes, forcing himself to focus on his body and its relationship to the rope and ignore the swirling water and debris below him. When he opened his eyes, he turned his gaze to the shore ahead of him and saw his son watching him intently. Elladan was holding the rope so tightly that his knuckles were white, and his gaze was equally intense. Elrond concentrated on his son, and resumed his journey. Just then another gust of wind roared down the river valley, and Elrond felt the lower line swept from beneath his feet. As he fell, he grabbed the top line and held on tight.

* * *

Glorfindel saw Elrond slip the third time, and without thought, he grabbed the lower line and began wading out into the raging current. His mind raced with ways of bringing the elf in safely, but then suddenly he saw Elrond turn to face the opposite shore, swing his legs up on either side of the rope and cross his ankles over the line, and begin pulling himself hand over hand to where Glorfindel was waiting. Glorfindel stayed in the water until Elrond was above him, and then made his way back to shore, climbing up the muddy bank as Elrond dropped on to the ground near the tree and gathered Elladan in his arms.

"Glorfindel, my friend," said Elrond as he pulled him into an embrace as well. He released him and stepped back, looking briefly at Glorfindel's soaked trousers and boots. "Have you so little faith in me?"

Glorfindel laughed as the tension fled his body. "I was concerned your eyes saw only your children and not your own safety," he admitted.

Elrond replied, "I would have swum if I had to." Then he turned abruptly and began heading up the hill to where his injured children lay.

Glorfindel looked back at those on the opposite shore to see Erestor and Celebrían facing each other near the rope lines. He could tell from the motions the two were making that Celebrían was arguing she could go over the entire way in the manner that Elrond had used to finish the crossing, and Erestor was threatening to tie her up and carry her up to the path. "I do not envy you, Erestor," he murmured to himself. "I would take on another balrog before I'd argue with Celebrían." He turned then, and followed Elrond up the path.

* * *

Elrond knelt down quickly between his injured children, both in a drugged sleep, and laid a hand on each of them as he bowed his head in thanks that they were alive. Arwen, he could tell, slept peacefully, and he kissed her briefly before turning his attention to Elrohir. His quick mind had immediately memorized the detailed list of injuries that Glorfindel had sent, and he turned his attention first to his son's ragged breathing. Already Glorfindel had started the treatments he had sent over, and he could smell the eucalyptus and menthol that they hoped would help to ease Elrohir's breathing. They had elevated Elrohir's upper body to ease the exchange of air, and Elrond slid an arm behind his son and gently sat him upright.

"Hold him there," he said to Glorfindel. He sat behind his son, and began softly tapping over his lungs, avoiding the bruised areas as much as possible, and then pressed his ear to Elrohir's chest to listen to him breathe. He motioned for Glorfindel to ease Elrohir back to the blankets, and then removed the bandages and splinting from his lower leg. Examining it carefully, he found Glorfindel and Elladan had done a good job of aligning the bones, but he thought he could make some further minute adjustments that would aid Elrohir's healing.

He sat back on his heels, and contemplated his injured son. The bruises and scrapes that covered his pale skin were healing, and for this Elrond was thankful. He lightly rubbed across Elrohir's breastbone, and then repeated the action with slightly more force when Elrohir did not respond. The second time roused Elrohir slightly, enough to make him try to move away from the pain. His level of consciousness was appropriate to try the procedures now.

"There is fluid in his lower left lung, as you suspected," Elrond informed Glorfindel, "and the bones of his leg are setting well, but I would like to adjust them a little more."

Glorfindel moved without question to Elrond's surgical supplies, and began preparing for what needed to be done. Elrond turned his attention to Arwen then, inspecting her injuries more closely, especially her broken hand. His critical eye immediately noted the slight deviation in the broken fingers, and he decided he would reset them as well. While the imperfection was unlikely to be noticed by anyone else, he could not bear to leave alone that which was in his power to fix.

Elladan helped Glorfindel and his father prepare for what had to be done, and while they set to work, he penned a note of instruction on his father's behalf to be sent to those on the opposite shore. He readjusted the ropes as Athranen motioned for him to do, and when the basket came he slipped the note inside. By the time the note was back and read by his mother and Erestor, Elladan knew his father and Glorfindel were deep in their work. He heard Elrohir moan once, and then trembled as he felt a sharp pain in his own side, followed by a slightly louder cry of pain from his twin. He dropped to his knees and then sat back against the tree. A few moments later and he felt a deep grinding pain in his leg, and he willed all his strength to his brother. Even though Elrohir was unconscious, he felt his connection to his brother grow strong and he sensed Elrohir's pain and confusion. Elladan was both fascinated and scared by what he was experiencing, but continued concentrating on that bond and on Elrohir, feeling growing pain within his own body even as he felt Elrohir's pain lessen. The pain was not a part of himself, however, and he bore it without question or complaint. He knew he would never be able to describe what was happening, but he knew without doubt that he could bear the pain without difficulty and that in doing so, Elrohir was aided.

Elladan did not know how much time had passed when he realized that Elrohir was resting peacefully, and he again heard the roar of the water, the rustle of the wind in the trees and birds singing around him. The sun warmed him, and seemed to wrap its arms about him in a soothing embrace. He finally opened his eyes, unaware that he had closed them, and looked around him.

Across the river, a small contingent of warriors remained to bring them supplies and communicate messages back to the camp or Imladris. Further south, but now on the high road some distance east, Elladan could see the silver of his mother's hair and knew that she was in a party riding to meet them. He turned his gaze to his father, then, and saw him holding Arwen as Glorfindel finished replacing the bandages and splints on her hand. He rose to his feet and made his way silently to Elrohir, and lay down beside him. He could hear the ease with which his twin now breathed, the raspiness and gasping sounds nearly gone, and tears of relief slid down his cheeks.

* * * * *

Chapters 7 - 9

 

Chapters 1 - 3