A short story collection featuring Thranduil, Legolas, Halbrand, Galadriel, Túrin, Finduilas, Galion, Elrohir and Elladan. There will be a dragon duel, an arranged marriage, a Dark Queen and a Dark Lord and much more. New stories and snippets are ad...
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Halbrand is hurt after the eruption of Mount Doom and Galadriel takes him to Eregion. This is a missing scene during that ride.
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3. Hurt
His body was in agony. The wound throbbed, his limbs ached with fever and his head swam. He lay in a stuffy room, dimly lit by candles, the latter likely there to hide the nasty stench. Sticky, disgusting liquid oozed from his abdomen and discolored his shirt.
Humans were so fragile, their bodies so damn weak, reacting to injury most chaotically and unexpectedly. Being sick was the opposite to the things he loved; strength, beauty, order.
But worse than the pain and humiliation of lying like this was the knowledge he had failed. That his plan to heal Middle-earth had shattered in ash and poisonous fumes. Even the plan to kill this Halbrand body so he could take a new form had failed.
Everything had been in vain: the battle, saving the Southlanders, becoming their king. Everything had been ruined by the traitor Adar.
He should have stayed in Númenor as planned, rebuilding his power until he was mighty enough to make a difference. But instead he had allowed Galadriel to talk him into coming here. It was ridiculous; the most powerful being in Arda had let himself be persuaded by an elf. She had used him to get what she wanted and for some reason he had not refused.
Galadriel had disappeared after the volcano; gotten herself killed, most likely. Bloody elf.
He took a breath and tried to find a more comfortable position on the clammy bedsheets, wincing as a spear of pain stabbed him.
Oh well. Perhaps he hadn't failed to kill himself, after all. It was only a matter of time.
~
The curtain was pushed back and he blinked against sharp daylight.
It was her. She stood in the opening, lit from behind, her hair shining like a Silmaril. At that moment he had never seen anything more beautiful.
"Halbrand." She hurried inside, her face full of concern. "I thought you had died."
"Better for me if I had done," he retorted bitterly, feeling rather sorry for himself. The first wave of relief at seeing her quickly changed into anger. If she had been alive all the time, why hadn't she come sooner?
One of the elf soldiers described how they had found him wounded, and Bronwyn, the healer woman, added that the wound had soured during the night.
Of course it had; he had uttered a strong curse when he fell on his sword to ensure swift death.
Galadriel carefully examined him, her fingers cool against his burning skin. He swallowed thickly, grinding his teeth as more pain flared up with her touch.
