Bitter Dregs by Aiwen

Care for a Coffee?

Disclaimer: I am not JRR Tolkien, and do not own Middle-earth. I am merely playing in this world for your and my enjoyment. No money is involved.

Read Care for a Coffee?

Elrond's nose twitched at the smell of coffee as he followed the Arnorian ambassador, Arluin, into Gil-galad's withdrawing room. "Ah! I see trade with the south has resumed already," said Arluin

"It has indeed," replied the Gondorian ambassador, Borontir, smiling. "Imported via Umbar. If they are going to insist they are an independent trading port, we might as well trade. I brought some with me from Gondor. You must have some."

"That would be excellent," said Arluin. "I really have missed coffee. It is too cold for it to grow here. I've not had it since…" his face fell.

"By all means," said Borontir, gesturing at the tiny cups laid out on the tray in front of them.

Gil-galad thanked him politely and also accepted a cup, as did Elrond. If only coffee tasted as good as it smelled... Elrond inhaled deeply, the smell bringing back memories.

They talked of an assortment of things for the next while, getting an idea of what they could expect from Gondor's ambassador. "Don't you like the coffee?" Arluin asked Elrond.

"I love the smell, but I've never been too keen on the taste," admitted Elrond.

"Odd, for the brother of Numenor's first king to distain one of its better known delicacies," said Borontir. A muscle jumped in the man's cheek.

"I fear coffee is somewhat of an acquired taste," said Gil-galad. "I quite like it."

"Now the trade routes to the south are opening up, there should be more opportunity for acquiring it," said Arluin. "Along with many other things." He turned to Borontir. "I don't trust those Umbarians, though. The place is full of the King's Men. I am sure they will spy on us for the Nazgul."

"You are right that Sauron's fall doesn't mean that his kingdom has fallen apart. It does not even mean that we can be certain he won't turn up again himself," said Gil-galad with a frown.

"Sire, what do you mean, you aren't sure he's permanently gone?" yelped Arluin, dropping his cup to the saucer with a clatter. "He's dead, dead as the Isle of the Star!"

"Maiar are terribly hard to kill, and he's escaped the justice of the Valar twice, as well as escaping the combined armies of both our peoples once." Gil-galad pointed out.

"He has to be dead, sire!" insisted Arluin. "Otherwise Numenor died for nothing!"

"I certainly hope he is permanently dead, but we have to be prepared for any eventuality." said Gil-galad.

"Eru can't be so unjust as to destroy a nation full of women and children and leave the monster who misled them alive. He just can't!" cried Arluin, clutching the arms of the chair.

Gil-galad raised an eyebrow. "Sauron survived the Valar's destruction of Beleriand. This isn't a fairy tale, and you don't do your people any favors by being naïve."

Elrond frowned, leaning forward slightly. It wasn't like Arluin to get so worked up, and Gil-galad would normally not provoke an allied ambassador - or imply that Eru didn't care about justice!

"Naïve! You sit there and call me naïve, you vain, proud immortal. I know you distain us, and you haven't the faintest idea of what we went through and what it cost us. You've never been ruled by Sauron and a mad usurper who was out to SACRIFICE YOU TO MORGOTH!" He stood up, his chair crashing over backwards, a grimace on his face and tears glittering in his eyes.

The door opened, Ornendil, one of Gil-galad's guards, peering in.

"Could everybody please calm down?" said Elrond. "This isn't doing anyone any good."

"Calm down," Borontir sneered at Elrond, before crossing his arms and glaring at Gil-galad. "What will you do if Arluin doesn't, arrest us both?"

"No! I don't have to listen to this," cried Arluin, turning on his heel and striding towards the door. He stumbled over nothing and crashed on the floor, his legs oddly straight. Elrond and Gil-galad exchanged confused looks. Then Arluin relaxed, physically at least. "He tripped me!" cried Arluin, turning on Elrond.

"I haven't touched you," said Elrond.

"I'm not arresting anybody," said Gil-galad, rubbing his jaw and scowling. "I just want to make sure we're ready when the need arises. There's no need for… this." He gestured irritably at Arluin, and rubbed his jaw again, wincing.

Elrond looked from Arluin, who had disentangled his legs and was now sitting on the floor massaging his ankle, to Gil-galad, and then to Borontir, whose face bore a most peculiar-looking grin. What was going on? But he didn't feel anything wrong… "Are you ill?" The coffee – they'd all drunk it and he hadn't!

"Ornendil, go to the infirmary at once and get the poisoning bag," Elrond told the guard, who paled. "Inform Arothir, and send for Master Moriel at the Houses of Healing. We'll need help moving them to the infirmary, too. Arluin should not try to walk there unaided."

"Who will guard them if I'm not here? I don't want the King left unguarded while he's ill with an assassin on the loose."

"Poison? How? Why?" demanded Borontir.

"Hand me a weapon and I will," said Elrond. "I did not drink the coffee. I am fine."

"Here, take mine," said Gil-galad. "If I'm likely to become," he paused and yawned painfully, "irrational, I shouldn't have one on me." He handed Elrond his sword, then a small dagger from inside one sleeve.

"Stay here," Ornendil said, glaring at them, before taking off at a run for the infirmary.

Those remaining stared at each other. "Do you really think we've been poisoned?" asked Arluin.

"Arluin, what is wrong with your legs, King Gil-galad's jaw, and Borontir's face, plus the behavior of all of you?" asked Elrond.

"They were really stiff," said Arluin. "And both you and Borontir were rude," he added to Gil-galad.

Gil-galad winced. "Can we chalk that conversation up to poisoning and pretend it didn't happen?"

"Arluin, you were flying off the handle at minor provocation, while Gil-galad is obsessing about Sauron to the point of alienating our allies and questioning Eru's judgement. That's not like either of you." said Elrond. "I don't know you well enough to know your usual behavior, Borontir, but you weren't exactly a paragon of diplomacy. Do any you have any other symptoms I should know about?" asked Elrond.

Two "no"s and one shaken head.

"Well, let me know if you do," said Elrond. "For now, we wait." Elrond stood up and looked into the coffee cups. His own was full, Gil-galad's was empty save for the dregs, Borontir's was half-full, and Arluin's had been emptied completely.

Gil-galad got up and started pacing.

Arluin twitched violently as his arms and legs spasmed, falling sideways. Elrond knelt down on the floor beside him. He didn't recognize the symptoms of whatever this was: the spasms and tight jaw seemed almost like lockjaw symptoms, which made no sense at all.

"Damn, that hurt!" complained Arluin, struggling to sit up, and panting a little.

Elrond looked up at his King. "I think you should sit down, Aranya," said Elrond. "I don't want you falling."

Gil-galad sat down in a chair, but twitched repeatedly as if he couldn't keep still. "I hate poison," he said.

"Don't we all?" said Arluin. Heads nodded all round.

Hurried footsteps announced Ornendil's return: "I've got the medical bag here," he said.

"Good," said Elrond, grabbing it and rummaging through it until he found the activated charcoal. Without knowing what they were dealing with, the best thing to do would be to bind the chemical so that no more of it could be absorbed by their system. Hopefully Moriel would recognize the symptoms.

Gil-galad grimaced as he saw the bag.

"Tough," said Elrond.

"I'm not arguing," said Gil-galad.

The charcoal powder was duly mixed with water, and Elrond made certain all three drank their share, disgusted faces notwithstanding. To be fair, it truly was vile stuff.

After that, the next thing to do was to get them to the infirmary on the first floor. Borontir and Gil-galad insisted on walking, while they put Arluin on a stretcher. Of course this attracted gawkers, who immediately wanted to know what was happening. Arothir barked at them to either help or get out of the way, which they did.

There were a couple of stops due to Arluin going into fits. They really did look like lockjaw, but that wasn't a drinkable poison. This had to be something foreign. They were in the hall outside the infirmary when Gil-galad's spine arched violently and he went completely rigid. Ornendil and Elrond caught him before he could fall, Ornendil cursing as they struggled not to drop their monarch instead of lowering him. Once he was on the ground, Elrond motioned to Golasgil to place the stretcher next to Gil-galad so they could get him onto it. Meanwhile, the peculiar fit passed, leaving Gil-galad adruptly limp and blinking as they moved him onto the stretcher.

"We're nearly there, Gil-galad," said Elrond.

Gil-galad nodded shakily. Elrond had been hoping his king might have escaped the worst of it, but it appeared they weren't so lucky.

Then they were at the infirmary, with both Moriel and Taurwen, thank the Valar. Moriel knew more about poisons than anyone Elrond had ever met. Surely she'd recognize this.

The next few minutes were spent explaining symptoms and case history. Moriel examined the three as they were placed on beds, and their outer clothing removed. She looked grim.

"You have seen something like this before?" Elrond asked in a low voice.

"Only a couple of cases, and neither was an elf. It is something out of the south. The Black Numenoreans sometimes use it."

"What is the antidote?"

"There isn't one, as far as I know. We're going to have to just treat the symptoms."

"Muscle relaxants," said Taurwen.

"We'll need anticonvulsants and painkillers too," added Moriel. "And for some strange reason, light, noise and touch tend to set off the seizures and spasms, so we're going to have to be careful how much we handle them once they start getting worse."

Taurwen glanced around the infirmary with a dissatisfied air. "I wish we had separate rooms here, but I don't want to move them again, and still less do I want to be out of reach when one of them has an episode."

Elrond followed Moriel into the next room, where she was getting medications ready. "Just how serious is this?" he asked quietly.

"Assuming it is this poison, very." She turned to look Elrond in the eye. "Elrond, we may lose all of them. I want you to stay with the King, and keep him quiet. He knows you well, and if his mind starts wandering he's more likely to listen to you than to either of us. You can restart his breathing and give strength if needed. Taurwen and I can deal with the ambassadors."

Elrond nodded, not wanting to think about what she implied. Gil-galad was not going to die if he had anything to say about it. Elrond went back into the main room and sat down on a chair next to Gil-galad.

Gil-galad looked at him. "How bad is it?" he asked, raising himself on one elbow.

"I'm to keep you quiet, and keep an eye on you," said Elrond.

"That bad, then?" said Gil-galad.

Elrond winced. Gil-galad always had been perceptive enough that trying to hide things from him was a lost cause. "We don't know as much about it as we like, but there are things we can and will do that will help. You're in for a pretty vile time, though."

"Just do your best with what you have," said Gil-galad. "I trust you." He lay down, and suddenly smirked. "I also trust your strong desire not to be High King."

Elrond glared at him, but Gil-galad had closed his eyes, a smile lingering around his mouth. Elrond rolled his eyes, and sighed noisily.

Then Gil-galad's muscles spasmed, his head snapping backwards as a sinister mockery of a grin spread across his face. Elrond watched, softly singing a spell to ease pain but feeling utterly helpless. The sooner Moriel got back here with those muscle relaxants the better. The fit passed, leaving Gil-galad limp and breathing heavily.

Moriel bustled in, and medications were administered. The three beds were each curtained off from each other to cut down on noise and light, as well as to give a little privacy. Everything settled down into a waiting game.

Sitting beside Gil-galad, who was now trying to sleep in-between short but nasty fits, Elrond could hear that things were not going nearly so well with Arluin.

Quiet curses from the doctors, and the sounds of thrashing, labored breathing and pained weeping made him want to go and help, but he reminded himself that Taurwen and Moriel were quite as capable of dealing with the ambassadors as he was, probably more so in Moriel's case. Elrond's specialties were infectious diseases and mind healing, while poisonings and aftereffects of enemy captivity were Moriel's. Not that there was an enormous amount any of them could do.

Ever so slowly, the minutes ticked by. Moriel stuck her head back through the curtain. "How is he?" she whispered.

"Resting mostly, fits every 10 minutes or so, less bad than the one just before you entered. I think the medications are helping."

"Good," she rubbed one hand across her brow, mashing a couple of curls aside that had escaped her braids.

"How are the others?" asked Elrond.

"Borontir sleeps, with occasional fits that are a bit less intense than Gil-galad sounds. Arluin is much worse."

"Anything I can do?"

She shook her head.

Gil-galad shifted restlessly on the bed and opened his eyes, "I don't look forward to explaining this mess to Elendil." he said. "The assassin was probably after me."

"Don't worry about that now," said Elrond.

"I'd better get back," Moriel said, ducking back out through the curtain.

"I hate being helpless," complained Gil-galad. "Why poison, of all the assassination methods out there?"

"Probably because they know you're better than they are with weapons, Gil," said Elrond. "Try and rest."

Gil-galad sighed, but closed his eyes.

 

So Much for That Idea

Read So Much for That Idea

Galadriel was eating breakfast with Celebrian in her sitting room, and looking forward to a nice quiet day. The spring morning was bright and pleasant, and she thought it might be good to sit outside and get some work done on that Nargothrond tapestry.

She gave up on that idea as soon as Mithwen entered at a run, the door flying open with a bang. Galadriel put down her spoon and stared at her old friend. "The King has been attacked!" cried Mithwen.

"Tell me what happened," demanded Galadriel.

"I don't know, but they were half-carrying him, and the Arnorian ambassador was on a stretcher. They were heading towards the infirmary," said Mithwen, wringing her hands.

"Elrond?" asked Celebrian, standing suddenly.

Mithwen blinked, "I don't remember."

Celebrian relaxed a little, but looked to her mother.

Galadriel stood. "I'm going to find out who is in charge and what is going on," said Galadriel, striding from the room, followed closely by Celebrian.

The main guardpost was on the lower level by the main staircase and infirmary, not far from the main doors, so that was where she headed first. She ran into Arothir in the hallway immediately outside, along with Gildor Inglorion.

"Lady Galadriel, good," Arothir said. "I've put the Ambassador's servants under arrest, but I need someone skilled with osanwe to question them."

"Captain Arothir, exactly what is going on? They have diplomatic immunity."

"I thought you'd heard. Gil-galad and both Ambassadors have been poisoned using some strange southern thing the Black Numenoreans are fond of, in the coffee the Gondorian ambassador brought. Even Master Moriel doesn't know the name of it. There's nobody else in the palace who would have had the means, except the two Ambassadors. But both of the Ambassadors are themselves victims."

"Is Elrond ill?" asked Celebrian.

"He says not, and was acting as healer rather than patient," said Arothir.

"Well, that is one mercy," said Galadriel. "Who is in charge right now?" Celeborn and Cirdan were in Harlindon at the moment, and if Elrond was caring for Gil-galad...

"That would be you if you want it, my lady. I don't think Elrond can be pried away from the King's side right now."

Galadriel nodded. "I'll do it. Exactly how much danger is Gil-galad in?"

"You'll have to ask Moriel. It looked bad, though," said Gildor. "He had some sort of strange fit just outside the infirmary. I've never seen the like."

Galadriel swallowed, but focused on what needed to be done. "We'll need to make an official announcement of what is happening before rumors go completely wild. Has anything been said so far?"

"No."

"What else has been done so far?" asked Galadriel.

"I have Celebdil and Anariel watching for anyone being sneaky about leaving. Like I said, it is highly unlikely that anyone other than the Numenoreans would have access to the means."

"Why in Arda would any of our people want to kill Gil-galad?" asked Celebrian.

"The assassin could have been after the ambassadors, and assumed Gil-galad doesn't like coffee," said Galadriel. "Or someone could blame Gil-galad for something. People aren't always rational when it comes to things like a son dead in a battle gone wrong".

Celebrian's distressed expression didn't change. "He does make mistakes on occasion, you know," Galadriel said. "In any case, we must make some sort of official announcement. We don't want to make things worse, so perhaps something along the lines of 'The King and the Ambassadors have been poisoned. They are being treated, and the situation is being investigated.'"

"'Everything is under control', then?" said Arothir. "But what do we do if he dies? Or for that matter, how do we explain to the Kings Elendil and Isildur that their Ambassadors were murdered while under our care?"

"We deal with that if it happens. If the assassin was one of their men, they will be the ones explaining matters to us."

Galadriel had criers sent out explaining the situation, while Celebrian went to help in the infirmary. Then Galadriel went to the infirmary to check on the details of the situation, and find out how the victims were doing. She wound up getting Taurwen for a couple of minutes. The healer was obviously very worried, and Galadriel thought she had best let her get back to her patients. It looked like they might have to explain the death of one or more ambassadors, possibly in Gil-galad's absence.

Galadriel swallowed, remembering Gil-galad as he'd been when Lindon was newly-founded. It had been obvious how very young he was, excited and eyes brilliant with delight at the new possibilities now Morgoth had been overthrown. How had it come to this? Arda Marred strikes again. Time to go and make the assassin regret he'd ever decided to tangle with the Noldor.

---

Galadriel started with the Arnorians, having one at a time brought into their sitting room where she would question them. The first one was a very young man with an unfinished look and a prominent adam's apple. He also looked rather scared, sitting staring at his knees.

"I need you to look at me," said Galadriel.

He took a deep breath, and did so.

"What is your name?"

"Dirhavel," he whispered.

"Do you know why I am here?"

"Someone tried to kill your King?" the boy said uncertainly.

"That same someone has also harmed Ambassadors Arluin and Borontir," said Galadriel. "We need to find out who they are."

"I don't know anything!" cried Dirhavel. "and I'd never hurt Arluin. He's my uncle! I don't have anything against your High King and I've scarcely met Ambassador Borontir."

"I believe you," said Galadriel, sighing slightly. There was no lie in the boy's eyes, only panic and worry. "But have you any idea who might have?"

"No," said the boy. "Although I have barely met the Gondorians. Why do you assume it was one of us?"

"Who made coffee this morning?" asked Galadriel.

"There was coffee?" said the boy.

"Yes, at the meeting this morning."

"I'm not sure. It must have been one of the Gondorians, though. Probably Duilin. He's the Ambassador's manservant."

"Who normally has access to the coffee?"

"Duilin and the Ambassador. Maybe all of them? I don't know. The Gondorians brought it, and they've got it somewhere in their suite. I think they didn't want any of us sneaking some without permission."

"Would you have? Never mind." Dirhavel didn't really know very much that could be useful, and he was most assuredly innocent of murder. "That is enough for now."

"Will my uncle recover?" Dirhavel asked.

"It is too soon to tell for certain."

"If I can do anything to help, my lady," said Dirhavel, staring her right in the eye, "just let me know. I want whoever poisoned my uncle caught."

The rest of the interviews with the Arnorians went much the same, though none of the others were quite so young.

Galadriel turned to examine the Gondorians next. They were the most likely place to find the would-be assassin, after all.

She promptly ran into a major problem. Rodnor would not look her in the eye without becoming faint with fear. After a minute, one of the others finally told her that he had been interrogated mentally by Sauron back in Numenor and was terrified of osanwe. That explained why she couldn't sense anything from him beyond terror. She couldn't see past it, and trying was making her feel sick to her stomach. Innocent or guilty, she could not tell through this means.

On to Duilin, the man who had made the coffee this morning. He was the most obvious suspect, but he met her eyes from the first second.

"Will Ambassador Borontir be all right?" he asked. "The guards said he was poisoned!"

"I am trying to find out who poisoned him," said Galadriel.

Duilin nodded. "What do you need to know?" he asked.

"Was any of the coffee drunk at any time before this morning?"

"Yes, a couple of times. The most recent was yesterday. There was never any problem…"

"Who touched the coffee between yesterday and this morning?"

"I did, my lady, but I didn't poison the Ambassador."

"Did you know they also poisoned the High King and Lord Arluin?"

Duilin went ashen-faced and his eyes bulged. "Sauron's lying tongue! I didn't do it, my lady! You have to believe me! Please don't attack Gondor."

"Whoever did this likely wants a war. So as you can see, I need to know everything you know about what happened with the coffee." said Galadriel.

Duilin nodded, swallowing.

"There is a method that allows me to see inside your mind everything that you saw," she said. "It is invasive, and I would not use it save in great need. Have I your permission?"

"Yes, my lady," said Duilin. "I want the son of an orc caught."

Galadriel signalled to the guard to come closer, then reached out and touched Duilin on the forehead. "Now remember making coffee yesterday."

As Duilin, she experienced making coffee, enjoying the smell and the sound of the dripping dark liquid. That was followed by serving it and carefully putting the bag back in its hiding place in the ambassador's bedside table. Memories flowed past of random other tasks from yesterday, including a few of being in the privy which she tried not to look at too closely.

The next morning followed, showing a very similar routine of coffee making to the previous day. Duilin was clearly not guilty, and he did not know who was. Still, there was now little question that the coffee must have been adulterated after the coffee was made yesterday and before this morning. She broke contact, and blinked and stretched a bit, glad to be back in her own body.

Duilin stretched, looking very creaky. "How long?" Galadriel asked the guard.

"Nearly supper time," he said. She'd been in Duilin's head for many hours. She stood, steadying herself for a moment against the back of her chair. Questioning the others could wait. It was time to eat something, and to find out if her grandnephew would live.

A Day Out of Nightmares

Read A Day Out of Nightmares

Meanwhile, Elrond had been having a day out of nightmares.

On the bed, Gil-galad went into another fit, his face twisting into a hideous parody of a grin. Where was the next round of medications Moriel had promised? Elrond stalked to the entry of the curtained-off alcove. "I need more medications now!" he said loudly. "Including a fever reducer."

"Oh balrogs." came Moriel's harassed voice. "Celebrian, go and get them. They're on the table in the other room. I can't leave Arnil right now."

"We could use another healer," said Taurwen.

Moriel muttered something uncomplimentary, then went back to trying to steady Arnil's erratic breathing.

Meanwhile, Elrond turned back to Gil-galad, stumbling a little. He'd found that he could sometimes prevent the fits triggering, but this was burning strength Gil-galad might need later.

The fit ended, and Gil went limp as a boned fish. Elrond leaned over him, but it was obvious he was breathing. Erratically, it was true, but deeply. Elrond carefully put the leg that had fallen off the bed back on, and put the cold compress back on his forehead. Gil's breathing caught, but otherwise he stayed still.

Celebrian stuck her head in, and handed him the correct dosage in two separate vials. "Thank you," said Elrond. Now he just had to get them into Gil-galad.

"Gil-galad, can you hear me?" asked Elrond. "Open your eyes if you can." Gil-galad's eyelids flickered but did not open. "I want you to drink what I give you," said Elrond. Carefully, Elrond raised Gil-galad's head. The elf's hair was damp with sweat. Gil-galad opened his eyes, but they weren't focusing properly. He tried to jerk his head away, making an incoherent protest.

"I am Elrond. Your healer." said Elrond, moving to hold his monarch's head still. Gil-galad struggled weakly, and tried to bite Elrond's hand. Elrond took a deep breath, reached within himself and focused on Gil-galad's mind. He caught a glimpse of hideous orc faces, and hands holding a curved knife. Elrond winced. No wonder Gil-galad wasn't cooperating.

"You are safe," said Elrond softly inside Gil-galad's head. "I am Elrond. Now DRINK", Elrond said, opening Gil-galad's lips and carefully spooning part of the mixture into the side of his mouth, between lips and teeth. Gil-galad swallowed reflexively. Elrond then repeated the process until Gil had taken the medication.

"Shhh. That's better," said Elrond, moving Gil-galad's head back to the pillow.

Gil's eyes darted around, finally settling on Elrond's face. "El?" he croaked.

"Yes, I am Elrond."

Gil-galad smiled faintly. His eyes closed when Elrond made no further movements. A minute's rest, then it was another fit to deal with. Elrond heard a commotion from the other end of the room, but ignored it.

A few minutes lately, Moriel came over to check on Gil-galad. "How is Arluin?" Elrond asked.

"Arluin's dead," she said bleakly.

Elrond nodded. "Borontir?"

"Only the occasional spasm, and no fever. You said Borontir only drank half a cup?"

"Yes, or maybe a bit less."

"How much did the King take again?"

"All but the dregs," said Elrond. "Arluin drank his."

Moriel closed her eyes, allowing her exhaustion to show for a moment. "Still less than Arluin, and elves process poisons faster. We can do this." What she didn't say aloud was: I hope.

The day dragged on and on, one hour blurring into the next. At first Gil-galad seemed a bit better, but then the fits came closer together again and they had to give him another dose. Sometimes, too, Gil-galad would get a fit identical to those seen with the falling sickness. He was completely unconscious for some time after those. He was also getting weaker, breathing interrupted by the fits leaving him with blue lips, and an erratic heartbeat. The intermittent fever was making him dehydrated, and it was difficult to get water into him with his swallowing reflexes unreliable.

Moriel was working beside Elrond most of the time now, leaving Borontir in Taurwen and Celebrian's care.

Elrond sat down for a moment, having just restarted Gil-galad's breathing after his lastest fit ceased. "I want to try something different," he said to Moriel. "We need a stronger muscle relaxant."

"He'll stop breathing completely if you do that," said Moriel.

"I can keep him breathing, but these spasms are draining his strength so fast his heart is going to give out unless we do something," Elrond pointed out.

"It will take both of us, for hours, with no interruptions, and it still may not work." Moriel grimaced, then shook her head. "Normally I'd forbid it, but you are right. He'll die if we don't."

"I know. We need to eat first, also, or we are likely to fail. What time is it?" Elrond suddenly realized he had no idea how long they'd been working like this.

"I don't know. I'll ask the guards and get the medication ready. You keep an eye on Gil-galad, and eat something." Moriel left, heading towards the door. Wearily, Elrond wiped his hands, and took a few bites from the pasty that had been left on the tray for him, keeping watch over Gil-galad as he did so.

Gil-galad was very still, his face icy pale and his chest barely moving with each breath. Watching Gil-galad's white face, Elrond wondered if this was the last time he'd see his friend alive with his outer eyes. It seemed such a stupid, petty way for him to die. Elrond could have sworn he'd seen a different fate waiting for Gil-galad.

Elrond sipped his tea, and began eating a pasty. He dropped the cup when Gil went into another fit. Elrond dealt with that, then poured himself some more tea, and finished his pasty. Moriel came back and ate, while Elrond took the opportunity to visit the privy. He came back just in time to help deal with another fit. They lasted longer and came far more often, but it was still that classic lockjaw fit that had so startled Elrond when he first saw it. Finally it was over, Gil-galad collapsed and lay frighteningly still. He wasn't breathing. Elrond pinched Gil-galad's nose closed and breathed into his mouth. The elf gave a weak, ragged gasp and started breathing again.

Moriel administered the antispasmodic, carefully triggering the swallowing reflex. Gil-galad was so exhausted it was difficult to get any of his muscles to react properly. Then Elrond slid into a trance state, watching his patient with senses other than eyes and ears, becoming deaf and blind to the outside world. He became heartbeat and breathing, telling them when to act and when to rest.

---

Chapter End Notes

A/N: I am not a doctor, and do NOT take anything in this story as medical advice. I do know that giving an unconscious person fluids by mouth is dangerous because they can choke, something that fanfiction often ignores.

To Solve a Mystery

Read To Solve a Mystery

Galadriel reached the infirmary, where she was stopped by the guards. "No one is to enter under any circumstances, by Master Moriel and Lord Elrond's orders."

Galadriel's heart sank. "Can you tell me what has been happening?" she asked.

"Lord Arluin is dead, and the King is near death," Ornendil said. "They are trying something risky to save his life that must absolutely not be interrupted."

"This day just gets worse and worse," said Galadriel.

"Indeed, my lady. Have you found the murderer?" asked Ornendil.

"I have ruled out many people, and learned much," said Galadriel. "Unfortunately, I have not found the killer yet, and I must eat before I do more."

So Galadriel went and ate, interrupted several times by worried people who wanted to know if their king would live. She told them that she did not know, but that he was in the best of hands and that they would know more by tomorrow. Then she went back and questioned the rest of the Gondorians.

That left her in quite a quandary, for as far as she could tell, none of them were guilty. Rodnor and Borontir were the only two possibilities left, but it would take a rare man indeed to poison himself to kill his foe. Perhaps matters would seem clearer in the light of morning – it wasn't as if anyone could reach any of the targets to harm them right now.

---

Breathe in, breathe out - Elrond was the breath, and the breath was Elrond. The world shook, and Elrond fell out of the trance, blinking groggily at the face over him. Moriel. "You need to rest," she said. "I'll look after our king for a while. He's breathing on his own again, so I think we can handle him without you. You were in trance for seven hours."

"Oh, that's good then," said Elrond. He looked down at Gil-galad, who was indeed breathing on his own.

Elrond closed his eyes for just a moment, and awoke to find Celebrian shaking him. "You need to come and lie down for a while," she said. "Lean on me," Elrond did, and found himself looking at an empty bed. It looked most inviting, and he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

A premonition of danger woke him. Unsure for a moment of where he was, he opened his eyes a slit. A figure loomed over him, holding… Elrond grabbed the figure's wrist and twisted it violently, sitting up and yelling 'Help!" as he did so. The wrist snapped, the scalpel fell to the bed and the man screamed. Borontir what the… thought Elrond, now pinning the man to the bed. Borontir swung his fist, but Elrond ducked and grabbed the arm. This unbalanced them, and they crashed to the floor, knocking the wind out of both of them.

The guards burst into the room, taking control of Borontir, and demanding to know what was going on. That was seconded by Moriel, Taurwen, Celebrian, and a weak croak from behind the curtain.

"He's awake?" Elrond asked, staggering to his feet and ducking his head through the curtain.

Gil-galad looked back, wearing an exhausted and confused expression, and trying to lift his head from the pillow.

"Oh no you don't," said Moriel, quickly pushing Gil-galad back down. "Elrond, can you go and get this lot to sort things out somewhere else?"

"I will, and I will come back afterwards to tell you what happened," he reassured Gil-galad, before ushering the others out of the infirmary.

They relocated to the guardpost across the hallway, Borontir unsteady on his feet, and cradling his wrist.

Arothir was looking very dangerous indeed as they all sat down on wooden chairs. Miron found himself without a chair, and opted for leaning against the wall. "First, Elrond, why were you fighting with Borontir?"

"He attacked me with a scalpel," said Elrond. "What I don't know is why. Is he in his right mind, or is this is another poisonous side-effect?"

"Kindly explain yourself," Arothir told Borontir.

Borontir glared back at them, looking rumpled and twitchy. For a moment Elrond thought he was going to go into another fit, but it passed as no more than twitching muscles and a disturbing smile. "I don't know why I did that," he said.

It rang false to Elrond, and apparently to Arothir as well. "Go and find Lady Galadriel," Arothir said.

Miron nodded, and left.

"I think I broke your wrist," Elrond said to Borontir.

Nothing much happened for the next few minutes, and Elrond found his mind drifting to Gil-galad's confused, but aware expression. If he was awake and trying to talk, he was much better than he had been some hours ago. He was most likely out of danger. Thanks be to Eru, thought Elrond. I really thought we were going to lose him for a while there.

Miron returned with a rather rumpled-looking Galadriel. "Now tell us again why you attacked Lord Elrond," Arothir said to Borontir.

"I don't know. The poison – he reminded me of Sauron," said Borontir.

Elrond blinked. Being confused with Sauron was a new one on him, not that he believed Borontir's statement.

"Really?" said Galadriel, sitting back in her chair. "In what way?"

"Just… the abilities," said Borontir, twitching.

"Is it safe for me to use osanwe, or do I risk killing him?" Galadriel asked Elrond.

"It is possible it might send him into a fit, but it won't kill him and shouldn't harm you," said Elrond. "Did you find the assassin, by the way?"

"Not yet, but he may be sitting right in front of us," said Galadriel.

"He only drank half the coffee in his cup," said Elrond. "Lucky, that. Otherwise he'd be flat on his back in bed at best, if not as dead as Arluin."

"Look at me," demanded Galadriel. Borontir looked away. "If you do not look me in the eye, we will take it as an admission of guilt. If you don't want to be executed for murder, look at me right now."

Borontir looked at her. "Did you poison Arluin and the King?" she demanded.

"Do you think I'd be crazy enough to poison myself to get at them?" he answered.

"Yes or no: did you poison them?"

"No," said Borontir.

"Don't lie," Galadriel said. "Well, we've found our assassin. I still have no idea why, though."

"I claim diplomatic immunity," said Borontir.

"For murdering the Arnorian Ambassador, attacking me, and bringing our king to the brink of death?" asked Elrond. He shook his head. "If we don't kill you, Tar Elendil will."

"You are a dead man walking, Borontir. You might at least tell us why you did it." said Galadriel.

"We also need the name of the poison, and any antidotes," said Elrond.

Borontir looked at them and something dark could be seen in his gaze. "You want to know why I did it? Fine." He pointed at Elrond, who frowned in confusion.

"You," Borontir spat. "You sit there, simply because you chose to be an elf. And my nation is dead." He gulped, his face twisting in rage. "You and Gil-galad did what, when Ar-Pharazon usurped the throne and Sauron cozened him into attacking the Valar? Absolutely nothing! We saved your lives when Sauron attacked Lindon in the War of the Elves vs. Sauron, and you, you sat by and did nothing to save us."

"We could have done what, precisely, against Pharazon?" demanded Elrond. "Gone to war against Numenor, and its mighty navy? We would have failed utterly, and you'd not have thanked us when Pharazon used the war as an excuse to murder every Faithful Numenorean he could lay his hands on. Sauron would have used the crisis to gain power over Pharazon even faster. Numenor and Mordor working together would have crushed the Eldar of Middle-earth, and those Faithful who had fled to Middle-earth."

"As for Pharazon, we did warn him of what Sauron was capable, as any reading of a history book ought to have done! He was too arrogant in his own strength to listen. When your people arrived as refugees on our shores, we helped you and befriended you." Elrond lowered his voice. "Do not confuse inability to help with lack of desire. You fool. And in your folly you end up serving Sauron's ends by murdering your own people."

"I wasn't trying to kill Arluin."

"But you knew it would kill him and you did it anyway."

Borontir looked away.

---

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Chapter End Notes

A/N: I wrote a murder mystery. Good grief. I guess there's a first time for everything...