Disclaimer: I own nothing of Middle Earth or any of Tolkien's worlds or characters. I have no permission to use these characters. This story was written for enjoyment only.
Note: Any spelling errors or character errors are my mistakes. I do not know everything of Middle Earth, so please forgive any mistakes that you might find.
Rating: PG, just to be sure for later chapters
Beta: no beta… yet… just a little help from my friends… Thank you Lieke! You've been very helpful!
Reviews: please do…
A/N: We lay our scene on Dagorlad on the first days of the first year of the third era, one of the first days both elves and men dared to hope again.
I saw the shadow decline I fought for liberty
In another world, another time
Reflecting battles full of fear
So far away from home
Death has been near
For survival of our race
The toll of blood it has been high
The dead will never see again
The sun up in the sky
I fought for liberty
Wavering on his feet he stared at the elves in front of him. "Me?" he thought "A king?"
"Adar?" he asked softly and looked at the elf standing besides him, suddenly feeling like an elfling again. The dark haired elf shook his head sadly and suddenly he felt his knees grow weak. The elf grabbed his arm and supported him back inside the tent.
Sinking down on the cot he laid down and closed his eyes.
"You should rest" a soft voice spoke in his head, "you are not fit to walk as of yet."
He opened his eyes and stared at the dark haired elf again who now sat besides him on the cot and placed a cool cloth on his forehead.
"Elrond" he spoke, "I can not do this" he whispered. "I have not the strenght my father had."
Elrond smiled sadly and sighed.
"You will do well" the Lord of Imladris spoke softly and checked his bandages which had shifted when he walked outside. "Now rest" he said sternly. "I will check on you in a few hours."
When the elf had left he allowed his tears to fall, he could feel them trickle into his ears and on to the pillow. "My father has died" he sobbed silently and closed his eyes to see the image of him standing in front of him, laughing out loud. Several more tears fell to the pillow. "I am alone" he tought next and watched as his mother's ship sailed into the West. "Adar, Naneth!" he called their names, "Don't leave me here all alone!"
When Elrond returned an hour later he found him still awake. His patient had wiped his tears quickly but the stains on the pillow betrayed him.
"I can't sleep" he sighed when Elrond looked at him questionning.
"Do not dwell on the past" Elrond spoke softly and replaced the cloth on his forehead. "The future needs your attention now."
"What future?" he asked, "I am alone, I have no future."
"You are grieving" Elrond spoke patiently, "Soon you will see those who need you and then you will see your future."
"What about me?" he asked his voice but a whisper. "Where are those I need?"
"They are right there" Elrond said and placed his hand on his chest, covering his heart. "What had happened, has happened, there is nothing we can do."
"What can I do then, when there's nothing left?"
"We move on" Elrond answered him softly and sat down next to him again. "You have to be strong, it's what your father would have wanted."
He remained silent for a long time and thought about what Elrond had said. Meanwhile the darkhaired elf had gotten up again and had started to mix several herbs together in a cup with some boiling water.
"I will make him proud" the patient on the cot said with conviction after a while. "Where ever he is, I'll make him proud of me!"
"That's more like it" Elrond turned and smiled. "But first, you have to get well again. Here drink this" he continued and offered him the cup with the steaming liquid. "It will help you sleep, help you heal" he answered the look in his eyes and watched as the elf on the cot swallowed hardly and handed back the cup sinking back in the pillows again waiting for the effects of the drug to take over.
When he finally slept, Elrond stepped up and removed the bandages on his patient. The large gash on the side of the elf's head caused him to worry, worry that his skull might have been fractured. The wound on his chest already showed signs of healing, but the edges looked black. Although the wound had been cleaned, some of the Orc filth remained inside while they had closed it to keep it from bleeding.
Elrond sighed deeply before reaching for a bowl of disinfectioning balm and applied it to the wound gently. He knew the elf suffered from a high fever due to the wound and the wound on his head would cause him halucinations. It would be best if he remained a sleep while his body mended, his heart would have to wait it's turn.
Covering the elf's body with a sheet Elrond left the tent and squinted at the sunlight that shone directly in his face.
"How fares our king?" an elf whose head was covered in a bandage asked Elrond as he left the tent. Elrond laughed shortly and mused over the elf's words. "He left as a prince, yet he'll return a king" he thought and smiled sadly. His patient didn't believe he was ready to be a king, yet his subjects looked up at him thus.
"King Thranduil will be fine" Elrond spoke loudly and moved away from the entrance to the tent.
I will return
Return to where I belong
Where I belong