Vertigo (part one of either two or three)

[zhie]

Title: Vertigo
Characters: Erestor, Glorfindel, Elrond, others in Rivendell
Warnings: Some violence/injury involved, NSS (non-sexual slashiness)
Summary: Horse training gone awry. Bunniverse compatible.


Making haste on his way back into the valley, Glorfindel dismounted before Asfaloth had a chance to slow all the way down. He took the steps up to the house two at a time. There was no explanation yet as to why he was in such a panic. One moment he was crouched in a glen helping a few of the scouts track a small band of orcs that were, thankfully, heading in the direction opposite Rivendell. The next, he had a moment of terrible vertigo, after which, panic, pain, and then anxiety. Only the last felt like his own emotion, and with few words to the others, he headed back to the house.

‘Where am I going?’ He paused at the landing of the great staircase, and looked first left, then right. Everyone seemed as confused to see him standing there as he was to be there. Someone grabbed his hand, and he turned to find Arwen, her face etched with worry. “Ada told us not to get you but I am glad Elladan decided to go.”

“I have not seen Elladan – what are you talking about?”

Arwen blinked. “Do you not know?” She bit her lip and fretted with her hands.

“Darling, I rode back on my own instinct, for what I do not know. Please, enlighten me, if you will.”

“Erestor—“

“Where?!”

“H-healing rooms,” Arwen managed to say, slightly frightened at the change in Glorfindel’s demeanor upon the utterance of one name. “He.. he fell.. a-and..”

The golden elf was already on his way up to the second floor. Everyone he passed made way for him to rush by, and he did not bother to knock when he reached the rooms. A minor amount of relief came when he heard voices coming from within the front chamber.

“I feel so stupid.” Definitely Erestor’s voice, Glorfindel decided, and was finally able to breathe again.

“How were you to know? Everyone makes mistakes.” That one belonged to Elrond.

“I know, but still... I have been doing this for how long?” Again, Erestor.

The light in the chamber had been dimmed substantially – curtains were drawn and a meager few candles were lit at the bedside. Erestor was propped up by a mountain of pillows behind his head and back. A towel had been draped over his lap to allow some amount of modesty, and Elrond tended to a gash across Erestor’s thigh. There was a larger wound on the opposite hip that had already been sewn up, but tiny crimson droplets continued to seep through the stitches. Glorfindel frowned at the pile of cloths wadded up on the bed, all of them spotted with blood. “Umm... can I... help... with anything?” he asked uncertainly as he came closer to the bed and caught the attention of the other two.

Elrond did not even look up from his work as he concentrated on making small, close stitches as quickly as he could. “I told them not to interrupt you,” said Elrond somewhat sternly, but it was meant as an apology to Glorfindel, the annoyance directed to his children. One hand held the needle up away from his work while the other took hold of a cloth and dabbed the edges of the open wound.

“I came on my own accord.” Glorfindel stepped cautiously toward the bed. He wanted to sit down upon the bed itself, to be close to Erestor, perhaps to take his hand to comfort him. Something was wrong with the arm on his side of the bed from the lifeless appearance of it, though, and Glorfindel did not want to hinder Elrond’s work in any way. He crouched down at the side, too far to offer comfort other than a sad, sympathetic smile. “What happened?”

“Gravity.”

Elrond shook his head at Erestor’s response. “At least your sense of humor remains undamaged, which is fortunate as I am not trained to mend such things.”

Glorfindel looked around the room and tried to discover some clue. Erestor’s riding boots dumped on the floor gave him one. “Arwen said you fell... from your horse?”

“Not from Ithil. I was working with Bree, and he came to the swift conclusion that he does not like people riding him.”

“Unfortunately, not swift enough.” Elrond made a few final passes, tying off the thread. “You are going to have a nasty scar there for a while, my friend.” The healer stood up and began to collect items from a cabinet near the bed. “Erestor was not in the pasture when Bree made his decision to throw him.”

Erestor nodded, staring straight ahead at the drawn curtains. “He waited until I coaxed him into the outskirts of the woods. Then he reared up and literally threw me off. I hit one tree, bounced off, and hit another before the ground took its turn. It was lucky Lindir came with me, else I do not know how long I might have been lying there.”

“It was lucky Lindir managed to calm Bree, else I would have two patients instead of one. I fear that my investment was a poor one and that your current project is going to be reassigned to the fields.”

“He is strong enough to be a plow horse,” agreed Erestor. He sighed. “I just hate to lose them like this. He had real potential.”

Elrond nodded as he traveled to the other side of the bed and shooed Glorfindel silently aside. “He still does. He may be very good in the fields.” As he crouched down, Elrond took hold of Erestor’s limp fingers. “Do you want me to give you something to dull the pain?”

“Just do it,” said Erestor. He closed his eyes and set his jaw.

“Turn your head, Glorfindel,” instructed Elrond after he felt along Erestor’s arm. Glorfindel looked at the wall, and winced the same time that Erestor let out a yelp. “That one was not as bad as the other.”

“Says you,” replied Erestor, voice weak. He panted slightly to catch his breath again. “What is the verdict?”

“Both of your arms have fractures. The right one has more than the left, but it is going to take a few days before you can use either of them. Your cuts will heal, bruises will fade within a week. Your pride, well, I cannot diagnose how long that will be injured.” Elrond methodically cleaned up the area. “I will send someone to check on you in a few hours. You need to rest now.” He pulled a sheet up from the bottom of the bed and draped it over Erestor, and then motioned Glorfindel to follow him out of the room.

When they were on the other side of the closed door, Glorfindel said, “As long as I am here, I can make myself useful.”

“I have healers who can tend to him, Glorfindel,” replied Elrond as he walked into the upper apothecary and opened a cabinet. He pulled out a few jars containing crushed herbs and an empty bowl to mix them in.

“I know you do, but he gets very cranky when he is in these situations.”

Elrond poured a little oil into the bowl and stirred the concoction with his fingers. “He is the worst patient I have ever dealt with.”

“Then let me deal with him. You know I have a better grasp of herbalism and alchemy than most, and all he really needs is someone to fetch things for him and keep him from leaving the bed.”

The bowl was set aside and Elrond washed his hands in a small basin. “There is no need to twist my arm any further, Glorfindel. Erestor is in your care. The salve I just mixed should be spread over his wounds in an hour. Try not to wake him; he needs to sleep. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

An hour was just enough time for Glorfindel to check on his own horse, to change into house clothes, and to retrieve some food in case Erestor awoke and was hungry. Glorfindel stopped in the apothecary to retrieve the salve, which now had a pungent odor to it. He placed it on the tray of food and quietly opened the door of the room Erestor was in.

Erestor turned his head when Glorfindel entered. “Oh. You are still awake.”

“It is midday. Despite my ordeal, I am not very sleepy,” said Erestor. “I am very bored, though. You would think Elrond could have told my secretary to bring the correspondence or sent Lindir with his harp or... something!” He looked at the tray that Glorfindel carried to the table beside the bed. “What is that?”

“A little lunch, in case you were hungry.” Glorfindel lifted the bowl of salve from the tray with a smile.

“It smells awful,” said Erestor. “I am not eating that.”

“Not this.” Glorfindel carefully pulled the sheet down again, making Erestor narrow his eyes warily. “This is something to put on your wounds.”

“Good. Because I am not going to eat it.” Erestor pulled away slightly as the unguent was smeared across the stitched up wound on his hip. “Careful with that!”

“Sorry.” Glorfindel tried to be gentler, but again Erestor pulled away. “Will you hold still?”

“It burns,” countered Erestor angrily.

Glorfindel sighed. “Elrond said it was either this, or I had to kiss it to make it better. If you want, I can—“

“Just hurry up,” snapped Erestor. He snorted and clenched his teeth as Glorfindel covered the rest of his wounds, but hardly flinched while Glorfindel finished. “What happened to that nice red headed healer Elrond used to have working in this wing?”

“She threatened to quit if she was forced to tend to you again,” Glorfindel fibbed as he left the room to take the bowl back to the apothecary. He thoroughly washed his hands twice before returning, dismayed that they still felt greasy from the oil in the mixture. He would do anything for Erestor, he reminded himself as he returned. “Would you like something to eat?”

“Perhaps you have not noticed my lack of ability to grasp or lift things, making eating quite impossible.”

Glorfindel gave Erestor a cheerful smile as he tried hard to remain positive despite Erestor’s foul mood. “That is why I am still here.” A chair was pulled to the bedside and Glorfindel lifted the lid from the plate. “Everything is bite-sized. We have some grapes and some pieces of melon and cheese and tomatoes.” Glorfindel held up a grape and asked, “Shall we start with the fruit first?”

“I am not going to let you—“

Before Erestor could finish his sentence, a grape was skillfully pushed into his mouth. “I could bite you, you know,” he warned as Glorfindel next selected a morsel of cheese.

“True, but you know that I might enjoy that,” he replied with a wink before feeding his brooding friend the next bite of food.

Erestor was halfway through the morsels of cheese before he spoke again. “Something is off with the cheese.”

“Oh?” Glorfindel lifted a piece to sniff it, shrugged, and lowered it toward Erestor’s mouth. “Smells fine to me.”

Before the food could reach its destination, Erestor turned his head away. “I think you should try some of it,” he demanded.

Glorfindel drew back his hand, but did not look as if he was about to do any such thing. “I thought this was your favorite,” answered Glorfindel. “You need to keep up your strength in order to heal.”

“What did you do to it?” If they weren’t heavily bandaged and broken, Erestor would have crossed his arms over his chest at that point. “You put something in it or on it,” he accused.

“No, I did not do anything to it,” replied Glorfindel honestly.

“Then you told someone to do something to it,” countered Erestor. “Or someone offered to do something and you let them. Suffice to say, something...” He trailed off as a yawn interrupted him. “Something is...” Another yawn. “Dammit, Glorfindel, I was not tired!”

“You will be now,” Glorfindel assured him. “Here, come on, just have a few more. You can hate me in the morning, but I want you to get better.”

The rest of the food was eaten willingly, with some encouragement from Glorfindel, who reminded Erestor that the faster he healed, the faster he could beat him for his trickery. “I would never do that to you,” Erestor sleepily assured Glorfindel once the tray was empty.

“I know.” Glorfindel pulled a thicker blanket up over Erestor and removed a few of the pillows so that he was in a more comfortable position. “Now if you need me during the night, just call for me. I will be in the adjoining room.”

“There is no need for that.” Erestor looked as if he was going to say something else, but did not.

It was not unnoticed by Glorfindel, who sat down on the edge of the bed once he had tied everything up and put the chair back in its place. “Yes?”

“Well...” Erestor paused. “If it would not be too much trouble, would you mind tucking the blanket in under my feet? They get cold during the night sometimes.”

Glorfindel leaned down to the end of the bed, lifted up Erestor’s feet, and tucked the blanket and sheet so that they were anchored under Erestor’s heels. “Anything else I can do for you, cupcake?”

“You are so luckily I have limited mobility,” mumbled Erestor, his eyes mostly closed.

“Oh, I know,” agreed Glorfindel.

“Could you pull the blanket up under my chin?”

“Does your neck get cold, too?” wondered Glorfindel as he did as he was asked.

Erestor yawned again before answering. “Sometimes.”

“Anything else, honey?”

“Check on my horses for me tomorrow?”

“Sure. Anything else?”

“What, no sweet talk this time?”

“Anything else, sweetie pie?”

“Not right now.”

Glorfindel stood up and walked to the windows, fixing the drapes so that no splinters of light were peeking into the room. “Remember, if you need me, just call.”

“Mmmhmm. Need you, call you.”

Glorfindel smiled, and while very tempted to stay and watch Erestor sleep, he knew that Erestor would sleep best in a completely quiet room. Besides, he had other thoughts on his mind, and as soon as he heard the light sound of Erestor snoring, he picked up the tray and backed out into the hallway, closing the door ever so slowly behind him.

After dropping the tray and empty bowls in the kitchen, Glorfindel sought out Melpomaen and thanked him for preparing the sedative that had coated the cheese. His next stop was the administrative end of the house, where Glorfindel gently knocked on the doorway to Elrond’s office. He was beckoned in without the Elven-lord having to look up. “I seem to have a dilemma on my hands.”

“Erestor is always a difficult patient,” said Elrond sympathetically. He set down his quill and looked up. “I can easily assign one of my apprentices to him.”

“No, no, that is not exactly my trouble,” said Glorfindel as he sat down in one of the chairs facing Elrond’s desk. There were two, and he often took the left one while Erestor sat in the right. Today, however, Glorfindel sat down in Erestor’s chair. “I have an idea, but I am not sure what Erestor’s reaction will be to it.”

Elrond folded his hands on top of the desk and nodded for Glorfindel to continue.

“He really loves those horses. I know how distressed he is going to be if Bree ends up pulling carts and ploughs. There has never been a horse that I have not been able to train. On the other hand, if I calm Bree to the point he is able to be ridden, then Erestor might be upset that I stepped in.”

“Might be upset?” Elrond chuckled when Glorfindel nonchalantly shrugged. “You have known him longer than I have. You are well aware of the fact he is not going to be delighted to have someone else finish a task for him.”

“I know, I know.” Glorfindel settled his elbows on the edge of the desk and rubbed his face with his hands. “But I am hoping he will only be very upset for a brief period of time, rather than mildly upset for the next few decades watching that horse in the fields.”

“It sounds as if you have already made up your mind,” said Elrond. He reached over the desk and gently patted Glorfindel’s shoulder. “You had better hurry up with your plan. You only have a few days before he will be mobile again.”