Intro
He ran, his body was screaming at him to stop, but he couldn’t, if he wanted to survive, if he didn’t want his parents’ sacrifice to be in vain, he couldn’t stop, he must run, and so he ran as fast as he could, his body bleeding and aching.
A green light shot past his shoulder, missing him by an inch, he flinched to the other side, he was so close, he had to escape, he had to, he was already at the bridge, he could do this. He heard the spell before it reached him, he dodged, and it is only later when he thought back would remember he had stepped on a piece of rubble. He felt his ankle pop then it flared with pain, his body going down to the left, he felt an electrifying sensation shoot up his length of his left foot up his calf, then he was falling.
He screamed as he felt the wind rush past his face, hands flailing out trying to grab on to something to no avail, as panic reached his brain he felt the blood leave, and then there was darkness.
“Dan’! hurry up! Or we’ll miss dinner!” The younger twin shouted back at his brother atop his horse.
“Ro’! Slow down! Our horses are tired, let them take their own pace!” Elladan chastised his brother. He smiled as his brother slowed down, thinking his scolding finally got through his brother’s thick skull.
His smile turned into a frown when he saw Elrohir stop completely, “What’s wrong?” He rode to a stop beside his brother, not needing an answer anymore as it was right before him.
A few feet in front of them was a being, most probably a man, but that was unimportant, what had made them stop was that the man was drenched in a pool of blood around him. His body was clothed in black, probably soaked through with blood too, but they could not see.
Elrohir got off his horse and rushed towards the man, feeling his neck for a pulse, he felt a weak beating. He looked up at his brother, he didn’t have to ask, they were twins, they knew what the other was thinking. He carefully scooped up the being and passed him to his brother before getting on his own horse, they sped off to their father.
The Lord of Imladris was in the feasting hall, enjoying his dinner with his daughter and kin by his side, his sons were absent but he was used to it, the mischief-makers would come when they wanted to, they were late far too many times for him to care anymore. He smiled when he heard thundering footsteps that were no doubt his sons running to their dinner.
“Father! You must help! A man is gravely injured!” At his son’s distressed yelling he stood up, looking as his son stopped before him, panting and desperately trying to talk.
“Elladan! Be calm and explain, I will not be able to understand you like this.” Elladan took a pause as he breathed in and out, evening out his breathing so he could talk properly.
“We found a man injured outside of Imladris, he has bled profusely!” At this he started moving out of the hall with his son and Arwen beside him.
“Elrohir has brought him to the healing chambers.” Elladan informed his father. They sped off to the healing room.
When they got there, the healers were already rushing about the room, gathering herbs and creams trying to stop the bleeding of the stranger.
“How is it?” Elrond asked as he rolled up his sleeves and looked at his patient.
“He has lost a lot of blood, gashes and bruises about his body, left ankle sprained, right forearm fractured and bruised ribs.” (1) One of the healers informed him. He nodded and got to work, he could do nothing for the blood lost but he could stop the bleeding, sew up the wounds, reset his bones and bind them, the rest was up to the man himself.
Elrond sighed as he dipped his hands into the wash basin to wash off the blood, he would need a change of clothes and a proper bath but he wanted to stay close and monitor his patient for the first few hours. When he settled down onto the chair beside the bed, he finally got a good look at the boy’s face, for that was what his patient was, a boy.
His patient’s youthful face was spotted with bruises and cuts, he had dark shadows under his eyes, his hair was an unhealthy pale, skin greyed and ashen, his body that was littered with bruises and gashes was thin, what could have caused the boy to end up in this situation? He shook his head, orcs would not have left any of their victims alive, his gashes looked to have been cut open by swords and knives, bruises beaten on by a force, and worse of all, he had been left to die. What could a boy his age have done to deserve this?
He looked after his patient while his mind searched for the answers to this stranger. Hours passed and the sun came up, a healer came to take his place looking after the boy, he gratefully went to get a much needed bath and some sleep, much of his healing energy was spent on the boy, he needed rest to replenish.