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In The Name of Faith	By : acids Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 5506 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Title: In the Name of Faith (16/?)

Disclaimer: All the well known elves belong to mighty lord Tolkien. I was just borrowing them.

Warnings: non-con sex, rape, graphic violence/torture, incest (anything I could think of)

Author�s note: very very dark fic. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS! If you do not like it, do leave.
SORRY, I am so sorry for the long delay. I was not in a very good health, mentally and physically. But enough with the excuses and just please go on with the story. Hope you like it.

Thanks Morgana for beta reading.
* * *
Chapter Sixteen
Every pair of eyes of all the Elves around the clearing were stuck firmly onto the two forms engaged in combat. Breaths were held pent-up, as they watched in rising trepidation as the contest went on. The atmosphere around them was filled only with the singing of two blades as they met and clashed in the stillness of the morning air.

Glorfindel and Felenduir had been fighting for hours, or so it seemed. There was no whatsoever sign that the duel was nearing its end, for the two competitors were very well matched in strength, speed and skills.

As the battle grew heated, both of the Elves began to bear the consequences of their match. They each had taken small wounds here and there from each other's sword. Heavy sweat, mingled with blood soaked their clothes, drenching their faces and hair almost completely.

Glorfindel poured all of his anger and hatred into the fight. He fought with a lethal intent, his strokes were precise and every swing of his sword aimed only for a kill. Felenduir was too confident in his movement, and that would be his undoing. The Sinda was indeed strong and undeniably deadly, but Glorfindel was the more experienced sword man. He knew well where and when to lash his sword whenever Felenduir left an opening, furthermore he knew that all he needed to do was to wait for the right momentum to finally strike the final blow, the one that would be the death of the Sindarin Prince.

The only problem was, Glorfindel could feel himself weakening. He was beginning to get exhausted and his still injured rib was hurting him terribly. It sent needles of pain throughout his whole body and the pain gradually increased with each movement he made, forcing him to rely heavily on his instinct instead of his usual fighting abilities.

Much to his dismay, Felenduir somehow didn't show any sign of the same fatigue. The younger Elf was still as cunning and powerful as when he had first stepped onto the field. As the time passed by, he seemed to even grew stronger and more blood lusty, as if by coincidence he could sense Glorfindel's weakness.

Glorfindel swayed as Felenduir swung his sword near his head. He staggered backward and quickly raised his sword to deflect the upcoming blow from his foe, taken aback as he met it with a slight shock to his shoulder. He spun around fast, and then simultaneously struck the next one, his sword made a sharp clanking sound as it met Felenduir's high above his head. They locked in that position for a few seconds, before Glorfindel saw a twitch of sly sneer on foe foe's face.

Realization came down too late. Too focused was he on the fight, he failed to register that Felenduir swung his leg aimed to his midsection. Glorfindel's anguish cry was heard as Felenduir's booted leg landed on the left side of his belly, exactly on the spot where his injured rib was located. Agony exploded through Glorfindel's whole body, creating stars to burst in his vision and causing him to almost black out and slip to oblivion.

Taking the advantage of Glorfindel's momentarily stunned state, Felenduir threw his sword and dove toward him. He caught the hand that held the sword and twisted it savagely behind his back, until Glorfindel felt his shoulder might get dislocated and had no other choice but to drop his weapon.

Before the Noldo could contemplate any reaction, Felenduir tackled his feet and followed him down as Glorfindel collapsed face first onto the grassy ground, draping himself on atop of Glorfindel's back. He pressed one knee to the small of Glorfindel's back, while his other knee pinned Glorfindel's left arm. His free hand was pressed to the back of Glorfindel's neck, almost choking him with all the pressure he put upon him and trapping him secured.

Caught in the waves of pain and mounting anger, the blond seneschal gave out a violent struggle, striving with all his might to dislodge his attacker, only to find soon enough that it was useless. Felenduir was one solid weight above him and no matter how hard he tried, his position was locked for any attempt of escape.

"Get off!" An angry growl left Glorfindel's mouth.

With a desperate surge of strength, the blond Noldo doubled his effort to throw his opponent, which Felenduir welcomed with a rather delightful snort.

"Keep fighting, Noldo. I am waiting."

Although his shoulder and rib felt as if they were aflame and he could hardly breathe, Glorfindel was so tempted to answer the challenge. But a second later, out of a sudden instinct, he decided to change his mind. It was not only because he had no whatsoever intention to have another broken limp, but also because Glorfindel could vividly detect the rapidly pulsing hardness pressing to the rear end of his body.

Sometimes during the ordeal, Felenduir had grown aroused. Whatever it was that had caused it, Glorfindel didn't wish to know, but he realized quickly that his struggles doubtlessly would excite the Sinda even more. Glorfindel bit his lower lip, trying to overcome the revolting sensation that began to churnch in his stomach. Then by putting all the self-control he could summon, the blond stilled himself, gasping heavily and laying with his face pressed onto the grass as he waited for the next hit to come from the person sitting on his back.

Felenduir stared down exultingly at the figure sprawled helplessly beneath him. Slowly his lips curled into a wide smirk as he no longer met any resistance and knew right away that Glorfindel had just claimed his defeat. Still maintaining his iron grip on Glorfindel's arm, Felenduir�s other fist flew from the back of Glorfindel�s neck to grab at his long hair. He pulled hard, arching the golden head until it was only inches from his and forcing a stifled yell of surprise to leak passed Glorfindel�s lips.

"Pitiful," The Prince murmured. "Such a weak creature you are."

"Get off, Sindarin bastard," Glorfindel repeated in a detestable hiss. "This was meant to be a sword fight."

"Oh, but I have my sword indeed," A faint chuckle that was heard almost like an insane one came from the Sinda. "Have it right here. The one that I will use to pierce a certain part of your body, and it will not be your chest."

Felenduir bent down his head and Glorfindel bit harder at his lip at the feel of hot breath slithering to his ears like a tongue. Felenduir was too close, he even could smell the pine wooden scent radiating from his body.

"By Elbereth, you are beautiful." Felenduir's purred, his voice dropped low as he was swept by the current of his lust. "What think you if I decided to do you? Right here and right now. Put a little show in front of all my people and yours. Letting them hear as I tear screams from your pretty mouth, making them watch as you writhe beneath me in pain and shame .. Do you like that, huh?"

Glorfindel clenched his jaws ever so tightly, he was afraid his teeth might crack. "I would be better off dead."

"But of course you will die," Felenduir interrupted carelessly. "Once I am done with you, I will kill you. I will kill Legolas and slaughter your men. But not all of them .."

He then came to a pause, purposely allowing Glorfindel to swallow every word he had just said. It worked well, as cold fear and puzzlement slowly made their way through Glorfindel's mind. The grip on his hair didn�t make it possible to see Felenduir's face, but even so, Glorfindel caught clearly the unhidden hunger and predatory tone that lingered thickly in the voice of the other Elf.
Determined to show none of the turmoil running inside him, Glorfindel rasped. "I know not of what you speak."

"You don't?" Felenduir laughed softly, the kind of maniacal giggle that only added more elements to Glorfindel's distress. "Do not play so innocent with me, my beautiful whore, because I believe you understand perfectly of what I speak. Before the day ends, all your soldiers will meet their deaths, but not those two Half Elves. Come to think of it, I will rather keep them alive."

"You're ..what ..?"

"Aye, they are so comely, do you not think so?" The smug Elf replied, smiling inwardly at seeing another shudder raking Glorfindel's body. "I bet they scream beautifully too. I know I will enjoy it a lot when the time comes to break them. To see tears running from their eyes and to have them beg for mercy as I and my men fill their insides."

Finishing his words of obscenity, Felenduir bent down lower, this time really closing the distance between himself and the Elf underneath him, and licked Glorfindel's ear. "I can not help but wonder what will be the look on their father's face when he hears of the fate that has befallen his two sons. It will be the day I am foremost waiting for. But unfortunately, seneschal, you will not be alive to see that day."

He waited for another reply from Glorfindel, but none came. Mistakenly assuming Glorfindel's quietness as a sign of fear and resignation, Felenduir could no longer hold back his lust. His breathing quickened as he lapped at Glorfindel's neck and sucked hard, reddening the pale flesh as it made contact with his teeth. Too drowned was he in the sea of triumph and his own desire, that Felenduir entirely missed the furious glitter of anger that shone in Glorfindel's eyes, eclipsing nearly all of the green of Glorfindel's orbs and changing them to a pair of black slits.

To see Legolas tortured and ravished was one heart-stabbing experience, but to learn that the same thing would happen to the twins was a lot more than that. Glorfindel had known Elladan and Elrohir since they were but children. He had been there when they had been born, he had tutored them, watching them as they grew from elflings to adults as they were now. They were a part of a family he had never had, his love and care for them very much equaled that of a father to his sons. And to hear a maniac like Felenduir made such a threat of their lives had struck Glorfindel deep into the very core of his every nerve, plunging him into a certain degree of rage and disgust he had never experienced before.

Glorfindel closed his eyes and concentrated fiercely in his breathing, thinking and working on a new strategy. He had to fight, but realized he could not do so, not when he was trapped so vulnerable and defenseless like this. The only chance he had to break free was to play submissive. Glorfindel tilted his head, allowing Felenduir better access to his neck, which the Prince responded to by slurping harder at his skin. To convince him even more, Glorfindel suspended his tension, as evidence that he had just admitted his surrender.

The tactic worked wonderfully after some moments. As passion ran strongly through him, Felenduir unconsciously loosened his grips on Glorfindel�s body. It was only but a moment, but that was all Glorfindel needed.

Sending a quick prayer to the Valar that he would not lose the only chance he had, Glorfindel tore away both his hands. Surprised by his sudden movement, Felenduir jerked up and was about to resume his grasps, but Glorfindel was much faster.

Lifting his body slightly from the ground, Glorfindel blindly swung his elbow behind, satisfied at the sound of loud crack and a grunt of pain as it met its target. As quick as lightning, he flipped around and faced his attacker. He grabbed the neck of Felenduir's tunic, then rammed his fist forcefully to the Prince's face, successfully knocking him off in one blow.

As Felenduir lay in agony, holding his broken nose, Glorfindel slid away, frantically seeking for his sword. He found it lying on the grass several feet away and took hold of it, then quickly yanked himself to stand up.

With one palm pressed close to his bleeding face, Felenduir sat and gazed up to the tall figure standing before him, managing to put a menacing grin on his face even in his awkwardly terrible condition.

"Not bad, Noldo," He commented, muffled by the hand on his face. "Not bad at all."

Glorfindel gave him one poisonous glare and kicked away Felenduir's sword, which landed in the front of the hurting Elf.

"Fight," It was all the word Glorfindel let out.

The fire that blazed in the Prince's blue eyes told him that Felenduir had just reached a certain level of anger that most possibly was mirrored his own. Felenduir spat the blood from his mouth and took his weapon in hand, then in one fluid motion, he stood on both feet.

Glorfindel didn't wait any longer to charge toward him. For a second time that day, their swords clashed against one another, as the two Elves moved in blood thirsty dance, eager to end each other�s life. But if in the first round of the battle, it was Felenduir who constantly put a pressure upon Glorfindel, now the table had turned.

Never before had Felenduir imagined that the words he had said to Glorfindel would have quite a destructible impact, nor had he thought how bad it was to be at the receiving end of the wrath coming from the one called a Balrog slayer. The fury in Glorfindel seemed to strengthen him ten folds, and thus it made him unstoppable. Felenduir was squirming under his attack, completely taken aback by the ferocity in every blow and strike Glorfindel lashed upon him. He desperately tried to attack back, but his act only caused Glorfindel to grow even more rampage and much more brutal.

They kept parrying unevenly, until at one time Felenduir accidentally slipped on his feet, leaving Glorfindel an opening he had been waiting for all along. With a flash of cruelty in his eyes and a measured accuracy of a highly trained warrior, Glorfindel struck his final blow, aiming to the spot at the center of Felenduir's chest. The Sinda's choking cry pierced the air as Glorfindel�s blade embedded deep into his body. His expression was one of denial and potent shock as the metal tore his heart, ripping the life out of him.

"Felenduir!"

The scream came from none other than Alderios. Uncaring of his personal safety, the Crown Prince broke out from the circle of his soldiers and ran straight to where the two held their fight. Glorfindel heard him coming, and with that, he withdrew his sword, then hastily took a step back just in time as Alderios caught the falling body of his brother.

Alderios lowered the bleeding Elf onto the ground, holding him tightly as his sibling strayed in between life and death. Felenduir parted his lips, as if trying to utter a word. But just as soon as he did so, an immense amount of blood flowed out from his mouth, until he was almost choked by it. The wound Glorfindel had given him was too deep and fatal. One short look, and Alderios clearly understood that not even a miracle could save the younger Elf.

He gazed down, crying silently as Felenduir�s gasps lessened and his face became placid. Then after seconds of excruciating pain, Felenduir, the second born of Thranduil and one of the Princes of Mirkwood, released his last breath in the arms of his oldest brother.

Several paces away, Glorfindel stood behind the two, watching and absorbing every detail of the scene unfolding before his very eyes. As Felenduir died, it meant that he had just won the battle. More than that, he had just paid off his revenge for all the wrong and evilness Felenduir had done him, just like he had vowed. But strangely, Glorfindel didn't feel any sense of victory or satisfaction at all. All he felt was only an annoying nuisance of bleak, hollow nothingness, as if his heart had just turned into a cold hard stone.

He suddenly became aware of all the Sindarin soldiers that had gathered closer, forming a protective barrier around the two royals. Based on his instinct for an upcoming threat, Glorfindel tightened the grip on his sword. He heard footsteps coming from behind him, but knew that they belonged to his own kin. Elladan and Elrohir, with all their ten soldiers, halted and stood defensively around the blond Noldo. The tension was heavy in the air as they prepared themselves with swords in hands, waiting, should the Sinda plan to launch retaliation after Felenduir's death.

But the attack never came. Alderios, who was still kneeling down, gave out an order in low voices to some of his men. Three of the soldiers complied quickly, and carried the body of their dead Prince to the area where they kept their horses. Then slowly, Alderios stood up and turned around, coming face to face with all the Imladris Elves.

With a face and a voice filled with a maddening mix of genuine hatred and disgust, Alderios stated. "Take Legolas and leave my land. Do not ever set foot on Mirkwood again. Mark my words, seneschal, because the next time we meet, it will be with my own hands your life will be ripped from your very being. "

Glorfindel didn't even bother to voice any reply. The only thing he did was returning the Prince's glare with a fathomless gaze of an ancient Elf as he was. Alderios shot him one last despicable look, before he walked away to his horse and mounted. Then without looking back to Glorfindel or any of his other companion, the Crown Prince and all of the Mirkwood soldiers left the glade.
Glorfindel viewed as the figures grew distance, feeling still the same emptiness inside him. His reverie was short lived, as a more urgent matter suddenly came to his head. He spun around, searching with agitated eyes at his surrounding for one specific being. Legolas.

When he found him, he immediately broke into a run, almost colliding with Elladan in the process. Then as he neared, Glorfindel halted and sank down in his knees, laying his sword soundlessly on the grass beside him.

Huddling under one huge tree, Legolas had sat down. His hands were wrapped around his knees and his head was buried onto his knees, his tangled hair billowed around his head and shoulder in wild disarray. He sat very still as if carved of ice, where the only thing giving him life was the ragged, irregular rise and fall of his chest.

Glorfindel craved to touch him, wanting so badly to pull him into his arms and whisper to him that there will be nothing more to fear, but he knew such action would do no good. Legolas was in no condition of knowing what was happening around him, therefore even the softest of touch would undoubtedly create a tantrum.

Carefully, Glorfindel crept closer until he was a hand away from the trembling figure, and whispered. "Legolas ..."

As Legolas didn't make any sign of hearing him, Glorfindel tried again. With the same gentleness, this time he raised the tone of his voice a bit higher. "Legolas, 'tis I Glorfindel. You are safe now, pen-neth. Both your brothers are gone and you have nothing more to fear. Legolas, can you hear me?"

The unnatural silence that came from the young Sinda indicated that he was still incapable of catching any word from him. Glorfindel swallowed down fretfully. This could take forever, he realized. He could sit and keep talking to this statuette-like Elf, while at the other end Legolas would never be able to hear him and was slowly dying. It was too risky to make any physical contact, but at the moment Glorfindel was too desperate, he just had no other choice.
Lifting a slightly shaking hand, Glorfindel, ever so cautiously, laid one palm on the quivering shoulder. "Legolas?"

Never before Glorfindel thought that his act would have such a drastic effect. Legolas jerked up his head, sending him a wild terrified look that would remain forever in Glorfindel's head. His hand flew fast to slap Glorfindel's hand off him as whispers of terror left his lips.

"I�m sorry .. sorry .. Please .. no more.."

In one rapid movement, Legolas then jolted back, pressing his back tightly to the tree trunk behind him as if he wished to melt into it. He brought both palms to both sides of his head, and then he began to scream. Long, high pitched screams that came from the depth of his tormented soul and those that broke evne'ne's heart who heard it.

Legolas' disoriented manner drove Glorfindel onto the verge of his frustration. Too much fear had infiltrated the youngster's mind, he had even failed to recognize him. Tremendously panicked and knowing nothing else to do, Glorfindel jumped forward and caught both of Legolas' struggling wrists, causing the unstable Elf to thrash even more madly.

"Legolas!" Glorfindel shouted, aloud. "LEGOLAS!"

At the thundering of Glorfindel's voice, Legolas jerked to a sudden stillness. Glorfindel was ready to anticipate another fight from him, but much to his relief, it didn't happen. Legolas lifted his face, staring back with unseeing eyes, seemingly struggling to recognize the face before him. The seneschal waited patiently for a few long agonizing moments until Legolas' frighteningly vacant eyes started to focus, and sighed contentedly as the first sign of awareness began to creep into the dreadful face.

"G-Glorfindel ..?"

"Aye, 'tis I," Glorfindel smiled, silently thanking the Valar and repeating his earlier statement. "You are safe now, Legolas. You hear me? You are safe."
As a response to his words, Legolas' eyes darted around uneasily "Alderios ..."

"Your brothers are gone," Glorfindel answered him quietly, deciding it was not the right time to give the tidings of Felenduir's death to the young one. "And so all of their soldiers. You need not to fear them anymore. There is no more threat. You are safe. Trust me."

Legolas stayed silent for a long moment, neither moving or speaking any further. Then, as realization of Glorfindel's words started to dawn on him, silvery tears began to roll from his eyes. Glorfindel released his hands and circled both his own arms around his young lover, pulling him to his body in a tight embrace. Legolas leaned in to him, burying his face against Glorfindel's chest and clutching his fists to the front of his tunic ever so tightly as if his whole life was depending on it.

"Do not leave me ... Glorfindel," The young Elf sobbed, his voice came out too soft; it was almost lost in the breeze of the wind. "Please ��.."

"Never will I leave you, melamin. Never again," Glorfindel breathed, almost unable to hold back his tears at hearing such a wretched plea. "You will come with me. We're going home."

Glorfindel hugged him close, stroking his golden mane and murmuring comforting words to his ears as the young Elf wept, ever uncontrollably until he began to develop a hiccup. His hold didn't loosen even when the crying was finally subsided and Legolas started to relax, as he was drifting in and out of consciousness.

Using the opportunity of the youngster's insensibility, Glorfindel made a quick inspection of Legolas' wounds. The bright red liquid that was still flowing out from Legolas' lower region created a great knot is sts stomach. Glorfindel knew very little about tending to someone's injuries, and something like this was definitely beyond his skill to heal. He knew he had to find help very soon, lest the young Sinda would die of losing a massive amount of blood.

He curled his arms below Legolas' shoulders and knees and was about to lift up the weak body, when he realized that Legolas was still naked. Glorfindel cursed silently, wishing fervently for his cloak. He had taken it off earlier, and now he couldn't even remember where he had left it.

"Glorfindel."

Having his whole attention solely to Legolas, Glorfindel entirely forgot that there were others around him. He turned his head, not knowing since how long Elrohir had been standing at his side, watching him. The dark haired Elf held out his hand, handing him his cloak.

Smiling gratefully, Glorfindel took it with one hand. "Hannad, Elrohir."

Elrohir nodded and returned the smile, but otherwise he remained quiet.

Quickly, Glorfindel wrapped the cloth around the ravaged form in his hands as best as he possibly could. Then, ignoring the dull pain that came from every corner of his body, Glorfindel gathered him in his arms and carried him to where Elladan had Asfaloth ready. Five from their ten soldiers already waited on their horses' back, fully set to accompany Glorfindel during the long way to their camp, while the other five would escort the twins.

Elladan took a short glimpse at the figure in Glorfindel's hands, fully comprehending the hopelessness of the situation.

"Take him to Ada. Quickly," He told the blond. "He will know how to help him. Take the lead and ride fast, we will follow behind you."

Glorfindel gave him one brief nod of agreement and climbed up to the back of his horse. It was quite a difficult task to do with Legolas still refused to let go, but with Elladan's aid, he finally managed. His right hand circled around Legolas' body, resting him onto his chest, while his other hand took the reign. Then as he felt he was ready, Glorfindel bade his horse to gallop away, riding as fast as he could to save the life of his beloved Elf.

* * *

Shortly before midday, the Noldorin troops had reached the edge of Mirkwood forest, and had set up camp just on the outer rim of the forest. The sun was almost setting now, as Lindir and a group of Noldorin patrols were standing guard around the perimeter of their camp, waiting for Glorfindel and the others to make their return.

The sound of hooves quickly alerted them of uninvited guests. With no need for a command, all the archers had their bows drawn, pointing them directly to where the sound was coming. Lindir was ready to give a signal for his men to fire their weapons, but instead ordered them to a halt as he caught sight of the first rider of the upcoming party of Elves.

"Glorfindel."

The Captain's grin of relief promptly changed to a deep frown as he saw the depressed look on the blond Lord's exhausted face. He became even more horrified at the sight of the bleeding, semi conscious bundle sitting in front of Glorfindel.

"Lindir," Glorfindel greeted as he drew Asfaloth to a halt near the Elf on the ground. "I need to see Elrond. Hurry."

Not needing to ask any question, Lindir turned around and pointed to one of the soldiers. "You, take Lord Glorfindel to the healer's tent. And you," he gestured to the other. "Inform Lord Elrond that Lord Glorfindel had arrived."

The two soldiers quickly carried on with their orders. They leapt to their horses and rode to the camp, with Glorfindel following closely behind.

* * *

A grimace passed swiftly over Elladan's face as once more he heard a horrid scream ringing out from the healer's tent, followed by a sound of fighting. Next to him, Elrohir sat on the ground, was close to covering his ears and to flee, as he was no longer able to listen any further. All around them, their soldiers stood, bewilderment warred stiffly on their faces.

Elladan paced restlessly and swallowed an irritated sigh. He could not imagine what was happening inside the tent. For all he knew, the screams came from Legolas, who had been brought in a while ago, and that they had started as soon as Elrond and one of the healers had entered inside. Elladan wanted so direly to give aid, but his father had forbid him or anyone else in that matter, to go in there. So all he could do was to wait, but not precisely knowing how long he could retain his own calmness and patience should the screams keep continuing.

Inside the healer's tent, chaos issued. Apparently, Legolas, who had been laid on a wooden table, was refusing to be treated. He was too traumatized with his recent tragedy, to the point that he could not tolerate an alien hand touching his body. The only thing Elrond managed to do was laying a finger upon his wound, and already the young Sinda began to freak out.

He trashed like a panicked animal, screaming wildly, kicking and hitting at everyone in his line of sight, with almost no exception to Glorfindel. It was only when Elrond and the other healer backed away from him and Glorfindel came to the rescue, that he did begin to calm down. The young Elf then sat quivering, hiding his face against Glorfindel's chest and crying hysterically in the older Elf's arm.

Standing a foot away from the table, Elrond studied him intensively, his eyes automatically drawn to the blood that pooled in between the naked Elf's legs. If anything, Legolas' frenzied struggle had caused more blood to pour down from his insides. It was the more he moved, the more damage he did to himself. Elrond didn't know how long he had been bleeding, but by the extreme paleness on his face, Elrond instantly knew that Legolas had just entered a very critical physical state.

Coming to a final decision, the Elven Lord turned to his Elf assistant, who stood next to him and could only stare in shock at the sobbing blond wreck in Glorfindel's hands.

"Pass me the blue vial," He ordered, motioning to the medical pack that lay on the floor. "And a clean cloth."

Still having his arms around Legolas protectively, Glorfindel looked up quizzically to his friend. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to sedate him," Elrond's reply was short and definite.

Glorfindel's eyes widened. "You are going to what?!"

"Look at him, Glorfindel," The tone in Elrond's voice was almost impatient. "He is not in the appropriate condition to know that we are trying to help him. He is losing too much blood, lest I do something to stop it, he will die. But I can not tend to his wound if he keeps fighting like this."

"I understand," Glorfindel's brows knitted in protest. "But .."

"I know it is hard for you," The Half Elf remarked sympathetically, "Close your eyes or leave the tent, if you must, but you have to let us do this. You know that I am only trying to save his life. You do not want him to die, do you, meldir?"

Dark mist of uncertainty and bitter sadness clouded Glorfindel's face as he returned Elrond's gaze. He had had many ideas to save Legolas' life, sedating him had not been one of them. But Elrond was a highly skilled healer. Glorfindel trusted him fully, having witnessed him in much more distressing cases than this. And so if Elrond thought that sedating Legolas was the best way to solve this problem, then Glorfindel realized he would have no choice but to follow his friend's advice, regardless on how much he actually disliked it.

Hesitantly, the blond warrior nodded his affirmation. "Fine. Carry on."

"He will survive, Glorfindel," Elrond tried to soothe. "He is strong. I know he will make it."

Glorfindel stayed quiet and watched as the Elven healer handed a small blue bottle and a piece of white cloth to the dark-haired Lord. Elrond poured some of the concoction from inside the vial onto the cloth's surface and gave the bottle back to the healer. Then he walked over to Legolas' side.

"Lay him down and hold his hands," He told Glorfindel, then gave an order to his assistant." Take his legs. Don't squeeze too hard, just keep him steady."

Mentally strengthening himself, Glorfindel did as he was told. He gave one feathery kiss to the top of Legolas' golden head, then gently pushed him down onto the table. As he was lowered down once m Leg Legolas started to struggle, and turned even more savage as Glorfindel and the other Elf took firm grips on each of his limbs, pinning him immobile. Screams of incoherent words left his mouth, only to be muffled when Elrond pressed the dampened cloth over his mouth and nose.

The expression of raw confusion and black fear on Legolas' face was enough to make Glorfindel's heart shattered into million pieces. Ignoring the nails that dug into his flesh, Glorfindel bent down and whispered brokenly. "I'm sorry. You will be well after this, I promise."

The drug was quick to take effect. Legolas' body went limp, his holds starting to loosen, while at the same time his blue eyes began to roll back, the first signs that he was slipping into a deep and healing slumber. Elrond took his time to ascertain that Legolas was asleep, and when the young Elf's eyes finally glazed over, he withdrew the cloth and tossed it onto the ground.

"Very well," Elrond sighed. "Let us work quickly."

The two healers then busied themselves tending to every wound on Legolas' body, taking careful attention and great amount of time to heal the wound in his insides.

All the while Glorfindel sat on the table next to Legolas' head, watching them. Every now and then he would brush his palm over Legolas' sweat-soaked face and hair, marveling at how very young and fragile Legolas looked in his sleep.

Glorfindel leaned down, and kissed the porcelain forehead. "You will be well, a'maelamin. All will be well. Please, fight this and wake up for me."

TBC
Hannad - thank you
- 15
- 16
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In The Name of Faith