Elerrina

Break Through All Defenses

Elladan jumped from the horse in less than a second as he joined Elrohir and Glorfindel, who were already hurrying towards the unmoving figure of the Elf-Lord. For a moment, Elerrina could not move. Time and space had seemed to freeze, as her eyes remained glued on the Lord of Imladris' limp form.

She saw Elladan throw himself on the ground, kneeling to the right side of his father while Elrohir and Glorfindel took the left, their hands quickly assessing any signs of life. None of the other elves had moved, unsure of how to proceed in the situation as they nervously waited for news on their seemingly unconscious lord.

She could not bear to look at the Elf-Lord, and yet, her eyes would not part from his limp figure. Her mind kept reviving the terrifying seconds she spent hidden in the cold darkness of the cabinet while she heard the orcs successfully take captive the Master of Rivendell. She could still hear the sound of the Elf-Lord's light grey robes trashing as they hit the floor, the nauseating noise of a boot hitting flesh...

Elerrina watched expectantly as Glorfindel gently turned Elrond over on his back, her heart freezing in her chest as she saw both of the twins' eyes widen suddenly. Elrohir's hand reached to the Elf-Lord forehead, brushing away the dark strands of hair that fell on his face, the touch so gentle she hardly believed he had touched him. A large gash covered in dried blood spread over the Elf-Lord's right eyebrow, marking the place in which he had been brutally knocked unconscious. A fine trail of fresh blood still flowed from the wound, like a bright red threat that ran down the aggressively bruised cheekbone.

Elladan's quick fingers reached frantically to the side of his neck, checking for a pulse. Seconds seemed to stretch, and time seemed to stop as they all waited in silence, her heart drumming hardly inside her chest, its constant pounding the only sound that reached her ears. After long seconds, Elladan's silver gaze shot up to meet her eyes, the silver irises relieved and sure as he nodded his head before directing his gaze back to his father. Elerrina felt herself release the breath she did not know she had been holding as Elladan's low words echoed in the silent air, louder than they had been pronounced.

"Pulse is strong, although his skin feels ice cold" he breathed and she could see Elrohir let out a sigh of relief, even if his eyes did not travel up to meet his brother's gaze, never leaving his father's face.

"I do not see any blood, apart from that on the head wound" Elrohir's voice muttered as his eyes looked up at the Balrog Slayer, searching for a confirmation on his assumptions.

"Neither do I. There are two broken ribs, and the right arm also appears to be broken." She could hear Glorfindel's steady diagnose as his eyes traveled up and down his Lord's form, hands carefully feeling the bones for fractures. They were so close to her, only a couple of feet away from the place in which she stood, along with the forgotten party of elves; and yet, they seemed so far. Everything seemed so far and distant as her eyes watched carefully the scene before her, unable to look anywhere else. She felt as if an invisible barrier had formed, separating the rest of the elves from Glorfindel and the twins, as nobody dared to take a step closer.

But it was not that invisible barrier which prevented her from moving. The air felt strange, the dead silence crawling on her skin, the stillness making her shiver slightly. Vilya had become heavy around her neck, pulling towards its master, whispering lowly. Something lurked in the grey air; she could feel it, almost like a ghostly presence unreachable to her senses.

"Not a single orc" the soft, almost inaudible voice made her jump slightly, as she had not heard anybody approach. She turned her head to her left to meet Legolas' worried light blue gaze, his thoughts neatly legible on his narrowed eyes.