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I wasn't going to post this so soon, but people seemed to want it!
Silent Song
Chapter 2
Orophin brushed a stray strand of hair off of his brother’s sweat-soaked brow. Haldir had fallen ill shortly after learning of Rumil’s death. No one had said so aloud, but Orophin knew Haldir was fading. He had pleaded with Haldir repeatedly not to leave him, but his older brother was past all reasoning, knowing only grief. He would allow no others near him; only Orophin could tend him.
Orophin was exhausted. He’d had little rest since they got the news and had ignored his own grief as he took care of Haldir. He too would fade if he did not get a respite soon.
He rose as he heard a knock on the door. He opened it to see Anoriel, an old friend he’d courted for a while. She smiled softly at him. “Orophin, the Lord and Lady wish to see you immediately.” She said. She laid her hand on his arm as he looked back at Haldir. “I will sit with him until you return.” He smiled at her. Though it had not worked out between them they had remained friends and he knew he could trust her.
“Thank you.” He replied. “He’s sleeping now, should he wake he may look for me. If he does - please try to keep him calm. He’s not let anyone other than me near him, its fear, I think. I will try not to be long.”
“We will be fine.” She assured him. “Just go.” With one last glance at Haldir’s still form, Orophin left.
He entered the Royal Talan and bowed to the Lord and Lady. He wondered what they could want that was so important he had to Leave Haldir’s side.
Lady Galadriel smiled at him. “Orophin, please sit down.” He nodded and sat in the chair to the Lady’s left.
“What can I do for you my Lady?” He asked softly.
She looked sadly at him, seeing how thin and pale he had become. Celeborn was right, this could not continue. Rúmil would not have wanted his brothers to fall apart.
“My grandsons arrived a short while ago.” She said. “They brought news from their home, it appears that one member of Rúmil’s patrol made it to Imladris.” Orophin gasped.
“Who was it my Lady?” He asked, though he did not really think it was Rúmil.
“We do not know, Orophin.” It was Celeborn speaking now. “Whoever it is was badly injured and has not been conscious since he was brought to Rivendell.” He looked at Orophin. “We want you to go to Rivendell and identify him.”
Orophin was shocked. “With all due respect, my Lord, the chance that it is Rúmil is - minimal.” His voice was so quiet it could barely be heard. “Please, My Lord, I cannot leave Haldir.”
“Orophin.” Galadriel placed her hand on his. “I realise that it is unlikely that this elf is Rúmil. But you are making yourself ill by ignoring your own grief. You will not heal until you have had time to accept the loss of your brother. Likewise, Haldir will not heal while he continues to cling to you. The loss of Rúmil has been hard on all of us. I would not lose you and Haldir too.”
Orophin bowed his head. Though the Lady spoke gently, it was clear there would be no pleading with her.
Celeborn stood and gestured for Orophin to rise also.
“Come.” He said. “I do not believe you have met my grandsons.” Sadly, Orophin rose and followed his Lord.
They left the room and walked a little way to an airy chamber where a table had been laid for dinner. Sitting at the table, having just finished eating, were the twin sons of Elrond. As they entered the twins stood in respect. Celeborn smiled. Orophin, my grandsons. The one with the blue broach is Elladan; the one with the green broach is Elrohir.” He turned to the twins. “This is Orophin. He will be accompanying you to Imladris and will remain there until the injured elf has healed.” The twins smiled and greeted Orophin.
After another brief conversation with the Lord and Lady, the three younger elves left the talan together.
“Is something wrong?” Elladan asked as they walked down the stairs. The elf beside him seemed unusually quiet.
“Forgive me.” Said Orophin softly. “My brother was amongst those lost in the mountains. I was thinking of him.”
“I am so sorry!” Elrohir said with deep sympathy. “I can only imagine how hard it has been for you. But is there not a chance that the elf we found is your brother?” He did not want to give Orophin false hope, but it had to be said.
Orophin shook his head.
“It is unlikely. Rúmil led the patrol; most likely he was the first to fall.” He closed his eyes in an attempt to compose himself. The twins were silent; it was most probably true. Elladan laid a comforting hand on Orophin’s arm.
Orophin sucked in a long breath. “My other brother has been ill since we lost Rúmil. I must speak with him and make arrangements for his care before we leave.”
“Of course.” Elladan said. “Dawn will be soon enough. We will meet you at the stables.”
“Thank you.” Orophin all but whispered and headed back to Haldir.
Re-entering his talan he found Anoriel waiting for him. “He hasn’t woken.” She said. “Though his sleep is troubled.”
“I know.” He acknowledged. “Anoriel, the Lord and Lady have ordered me to go to Imladris. They think that neither Haldir nor I will heal while he relies so heavily on me and I devote all my time to him. They are probably right, for they are older and wiser than I, but I cannot leave him alone. He needs someone to care for him.” He looked hopefully at the maiden.
She smiled and placed her hands in Orophin’s. “I will care for him, do not worry. He will be safe with me.”
“I thank you.” He replied, squeezing her hands. “I must leave at dawn; feel free to use my room for as long as I am away.”
************************
Elrond observed the pale bandaged-swathed figure on the bed. The elf still breathed and for that he was grateful. Still, the longer he remained unconscious, the more unlikely his recovery became. It had been days now and the pale elf had not moved. Elrond sat down and placed his hand on the Galadhrim’s forehead.
“Cuiva. Cuiva, mellon nin. (Awake. Awake my friend.) You have dwelled in the darkness long enough.” He called to the elf, trying to will him back to Arda.
A slight movement made him look down and he smiled as he saw the elf’s eyes flicker. So severe were the Galadhrim’s injuries that his eyes had been closed, but now they began to open again. “Welcome back, my friend.” Said Elrond with a smile. “I have been most worried.”
Blue eyes, glazed with pain, stared up at him. The elf opened his mouth to speak but all he got for his efforts was a searing pain in his throat. “Please, do not try to speak.” Said Elrond gently. “You have been badly injured.” He put one arm round the injured elf’s shoulders and held him up while with the other hand he lifted a small cup. “Drink this, it will help with the pain.” He held the cup to the elf’s lips.
The elf swallowed and Elrond hated to see the warrior fight back tears as the liquid aggravated the raw wounds. “I’m sorry.” He said. “I know it hurts, it will ease soon.” The elf only nodded weakly as Elrond laid him back down. He was asleep again within minutes.
Elrond sighed sadly. Sooner or later, he was going to have to tell the elf about the extent of his injuries.
************************
Orophin said little on the way to Imladris. The twins carefully avoided the path where the messenger patrol had been attacked, though they had found and burned the corpses on their way to Lorien, they did not wish to inflict further pain on Orophin. Orophin for his part, drifted between grief for Rúmil and worry for Haldir. The twins did not bother him, but one was always close by. They kept a watchful eye on him, making sure his grief did not hit too hard now that he had time to dwell on it.
He was grateful for their silent support and he had a feeling he would need it more in the months to come.
Often he found himself wondering what had gone wrong, how a group of bandits had defeated a patrol of Galadhrim. Had they been heavily outnumbered? Had their deaths been swift? Orophin couldn’t bear to think of Rúmil suffering a slow, painful death. The Valar knew he didn’t deserve that. He wished he had answers and he hoped the remaining member of that doomed patrol would be able to provide them.
************************
Elrond sat down besides the sleeping elf. It had been several days since the Lorien elf had woken and though he slept a great deal, his sleep was the normal open-eyed elven sleep and he was coherent as far as Elrond could tell. His throat seemed to pain him less, though all attempts at speech had failed, much to the elf’s distress.
Now it was time for the truth.
He gently shook the elf’s shoulder, careful not to aggravate the many injuries. “I am sorry to disturb you, my friend, but I must speak with you.” He said quietly. The elf must have heard, for his eyes lost their faraway look and came to rest on the elven lord. Elrond took a deep breath. He was loath to do this; he did not even know the elf’s name. With both his hands broken, the galadhrim could not even write it down. But it could wait no longer.
“My friend,” He began, “When the orc sliced your throat, it did much damage. You were lucky it didn’t kill you. I repaired the damage as best as I could, but I could not repair it all. Your vocal cords were sliced so badly by the blade I could not salvage them. I am deeply sorry to have to tell you this, but you are no longer capable of speech.” Blue eyes opened wide in horror and shock. “I wish I could tell you that it will heal in time, but I cannot. Not even elven healing can help - the condition is permanent.”
The elf went even paler and shook his head. Denial was written plainly on his face. His eyes begged Elrond to take back those words, for it not to be true.
“I truly am sorry.” Elrond said sadly. “I can only imagine how terrible this is for you. But you are not alone in this. I have sent word to Lothlorien, I am sure they will send someone here for you. I am here for you too, and all those in my household. We will help you get through this.”
The elf turned away and buried his face in the pillow. Shock threatened to overwhelm him at the horrifying news. He had known his injuries were severe, but he had never imagined this. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and he tried to force them back as he took in the awful truth.
Mute. He’d never speak or sing again.
In that instant it hit him how much he relied on his voice. The simplest things, asking a question, saying good morning or giving an order would be impossible now.
“Why?” He thought desperately. He didn’t know what he’d do now. What was left for him? He could see no use for a mute elf. As despair engulfed him he found himself wishing he’d died with the others.
Elrond looked sadly at the shaking body of the elf. He prayed to the Valar that the Galadhrim wouldn’t choose to fade.
End Chapter 2
*************************
Silent Song
Chapter 2
Orophin brushed a stray strand of hair off of his brother’s sweat-soaked brow. Haldir had fallen ill shortly after learning of Rumil’s death. No one had said so aloud, but Orophin knew Haldir was fading. He had pleaded with Haldir repeatedly not to leave him, but his older brother was past all reasoning, knowing only grief. He would allow no others near him; only Orophin could tend him.
Orophin was exhausted. He’d had little rest since they got the news and had ignored his own grief as he took care of Haldir. He too would fade if he did not get a respite soon.
He rose as he heard a knock on the door. He opened it to see Anoriel, an old friend he’d courted for a while. She smiled softly at him. “Orophin, the Lord and Lady wish to see you immediately.” She said. She laid her hand on his arm as he looked back at Haldir. “I will sit with him until you return.” He smiled at her. Though it had not worked out between them they had remained friends and he knew he could trust her.
“Thank you.” He replied. “He’s sleeping now, should he wake he may look for me. If he does - please try to keep him calm. He’s not let anyone other than me near him, its fear, I think. I will try not to be long.”
“We will be fine.” She assured him. “Just go.” With one last glance at Haldir’s still form, Orophin left.
He entered the Royal Talan and bowed to the Lord and Lady. He wondered what they could want that was so important he had to Leave Haldir’s side.
Lady Galadriel smiled at him. “Orophin, please sit down.” He nodded and sat in the chair to the Lady’s left.
“What can I do for you my Lady?” He asked softly.
She looked sadly at him, seeing how thin and pale he had become. Celeborn was right, this could not continue. Rúmil would not have wanted his brothers to fall apart.
“My grandsons arrived a short while ago.” She said. “They brought news from their home, it appears that one member of Rúmil’s patrol made it to Imladris.” Orophin gasped.
“Who was it my Lady?” He asked, though he did not really think it was Rúmil.
“We do not know, Orophin.” It was Celeborn speaking now. “Whoever it is was badly injured and has not been conscious since he was brought to Rivendell.” He looked at Orophin. “We want you to go to Rivendell and identify him.”
Orophin was shocked. “With all due respect, my Lord, the chance that it is Rúmil is - minimal.” His voice was so quiet it could barely be heard. “Please, My Lord, I cannot leave Haldir.”
“Orophin.” Galadriel placed her hand on his. “I realise that it is unlikely that this elf is Rúmil. But you are making yourself ill by ignoring your own grief. You will not heal until you have had time to accept the loss of your brother. Likewise, Haldir will not heal while he continues to cling to you. The loss of Rúmil has been hard on all of us. I would not lose you and Haldir too.”
Orophin bowed his head. Though the Lady spoke gently, it was clear there would be no pleading with her.
Celeborn stood and gestured for Orophin to rise also.
“Come.” He said. “I do not believe you have met my grandsons.” Sadly, Orophin rose and followed his Lord.
They left the room and walked a little way to an airy chamber where a table had been laid for dinner. Sitting at the table, having just finished eating, were the twin sons of Elrond. As they entered the twins stood in respect. Celeborn smiled. Orophin, my grandsons. The one with the blue broach is Elladan; the one with the green broach is Elrohir.” He turned to the twins. “This is Orophin. He will be accompanying you to Imladris and will remain there until the injured elf has healed.” The twins smiled and greeted Orophin.
After another brief conversation with the Lord and Lady, the three younger elves left the talan together.
“Is something wrong?” Elladan asked as they walked down the stairs. The elf beside him seemed unusually quiet.
“Forgive me.” Said Orophin softly. “My brother was amongst those lost in the mountains. I was thinking of him.”
“I am so sorry!” Elrohir said with deep sympathy. “I can only imagine how hard it has been for you. But is there not a chance that the elf we found is your brother?” He did not want to give Orophin false hope, but it had to be said.
Orophin shook his head.
“It is unlikely. Rúmil led the patrol; most likely he was the first to fall.” He closed his eyes in an attempt to compose himself. The twins were silent; it was most probably true. Elladan laid a comforting hand on Orophin’s arm.
Orophin sucked in a long breath. “My other brother has been ill since we lost Rúmil. I must speak with him and make arrangements for his care before we leave.”
“Of course.” Elladan said. “Dawn will be soon enough. We will meet you at the stables.”
“Thank you.” Orophin all but whispered and headed back to Haldir.
Re-entering his talan he found Anoriel waiting for him. “He hasn’t woken.” She said. “Though his sleep is troubled.”
“I know.” He acknowledged. “Anoriel, the Lord and Lady have ordered me to go to Imladris. They think that neither Haldir nor I will heal while he relies so heavily on me and I devote all my time to him. They are probably right, for they are older and wiser than I, but I cannot leave him alone. He needs someone to care for him.” He looked hopefully at the maiden.
She smiled and placed her hands in Orophin’s. “I will care for him, do not worry. He will be safe with me.”
“I thank you.” He replied, squeezing her hands. “I must leave at dawn; feel free to use my room for as long as I am away.”
************************
Elrond observed the pale bandaged-swathed figure on the bed. The elf still breathed and for that he was grateful. Still, the longer he remained unconscious, the more unlikely his recovery became. It had been days now and the pale elf had not moved. Elrond sat down and placed his hand on the Galadhrim’s forehead.
“Cuiva. Cuiva, mellon nin. (Awake. Awake my friend.) You have dwelled in the darkness long enough.” He called to the elf, trying to will him back to Arda.
A slight movement made him look down and he smiled as he saw the elf’s eyes flicker. So severe were the Galadhrim’s injuries that his eyes had been closed, but now they began to open again. “Welcome back, my friend.” Said Elrond with a smile. “I have been most worried.”
Blue eyes, glazed with pain, stared up at him. The elf opened his mouth to speak but all he got for his efforts was a searing pain in his throat. “Please, do not try to speak.” Said Elrond gently. “You have been badly injured.” He put one arm round the injured elf’s shoulders and held him up while with the other hand he lifted a small cup. “Drink this, it will help with the pain.” He held the cup to the elf’s lips.
The elf swallowed and Elrond hated to see the warrior fight back tears as the liquid aggravated the raw wounds. “I’m sorry.” He said. “I know it hurts, it will ease soon.” The elf only nodded weakly as Elrond laid him back down. He was asleep again within minutes.
Elrond sighed sadly. Sooner or later, he was going to have to tell the elf about the extent of his injuries.
************************
Orophin said little on the way to Imladris. The twins carefully avoided the path where the messenger patrol had been attacked, though they had found and burned the corpses on their way to Lorien, they did not wish to inflict further pain on Orophin. Orophin for his part, drifted between grief for Rúmil and worry for Haldir. The twins did not bother him, but one was always close by. They kept a watchful eye on him, making sure his grief did not hit too hard now that he had time to dwell on it.
He was grateful for their silent support and he had a feeling he would need it more in the months to come.
Often he found himself wondering what had gone wrong, how a group of bandits had defeated a patrol of Galadhrim. Had they been heavily outnumbered? Had their deaths been swift? Orophin couldn’t bear to think of Rúmil suffering a slow, painful death. The Valar knew he didn’t deserve that. He wished he had answers and he hoped the remaining member of that doomed patrol would be able to provide them.
************************
Elrond sat down besides the sleeping elf. It had been several days since the Lorien elf had woken and though he slept a great deal, his sleep was the normal open-eyed elven sleep and he was coherent as far as Elrond could tell. His throat seemed to pain him less, though all attempts at speech had failed, much to the elf’s distress.
Now it was time for the truth.
He gently shook the elf’s shoulder, careful not to aggravate the many injuries. “I am sorry to disturb you, my friend, but I must speak with you.” He said quietly. The elf must have heard, for his eyes lost their faraway look and came to rest on the elven lord. Elrond took a deep breath. He was loath to do this; he did not even know the elf’s name. With both his hands broken, the galadhrim could not even write it down. But it could wait no longer.
“My friend,” He began, “When the orc sliced your throat, it did much damage. You were lucky it didn’t kill you. I repaired the damage as best as I could, but I could not repair it all. Your vocal cords were sliced so badly by the blade I could not salvage them. I am deeply sorry to have to tell you this, but you are no longer capable of speech.” Blue eyes opened wide in horror and shock. “I wish I could tell you that it will heal in time, but I cannot. Not even elven healing can help - the condition is permanent.”
The elf went even paler and shook his head. Denial was written plainly on his face. His eyes begged Elrond to take back those words, for it not to be true.
“I truly am sorry.” Elrond said sadly. “I can only imagine how terrible this is for you. But you are not alone in this. I have sent word to Lothlorien, I am sure they will send someone here for you. I am here for you too, and all those in my household. We will help you get through this.”
The elf turned away and buried his face in the pillow. Shock threatened to overwhelm him at the horrifying news. He had known his injuries were severe, but he had never imagined this. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and he tried to force them back as he took in the awful truth.
Mute. He’d never speak or sing again.
In that instant it hit him how much he relied on his voice. The simplest things, asking a question, saying good morning or giving an order would be impossible now.
“Why?” He thought desperately. He didn’t know what he’d do now. What was left for him? He could see no use for a mute elf. As despair engulfed him he found himself wishing he’d died with the others.
Elrond looked sadly at the shaking body of the elf. He prayed to the Valar that the Galadhrim wouldn’t choose to fade.
End Chapter 2
*************************
