Healing the Heart

AN: Hi everyone, this is the third chapter. I’m sorry it was later than I expected to get it out but I’ve haven’t been feeling very well for about a week. Thank you all for reviewing though! I greatly appreciate it and I’m so excited that you all like it so much. ^^” I’m speechless. (^^ extra points for who can tell me what the title of this chapter means. *hint* it is elvish). I also know there is a gross underestimated time that it would take riders to cross from Lórien to Gondor but I can’t have them traveling for weeks. ^^” sorry. Harry would be dead by then.

P.S. I apologize for a mistake in my last chapter. I had Galadriel as Elrond’s Mother-in-law but he does not marry Celebrían until after the fall of Sauron. I have changed it and apologize for the misinformation ^^”. Thank you.

Chapter Three: Hén


Elrond and Glorfindel had hoped to get to Minas Anor within two days time but even with their loyal and determined horse companions’ hard pace they were unable to reach the White City until late evening of the third. The sight of the looming white stoned walls and ascending levels that were carved into the mountain face brought relief to the Elven Lord’s heart as they raced towards the gates. They had finally arrived and he could now give all his attention and energy into helping an elfling that needed them. Neither he nor his blonde companion had stopped to sleep but they had managed a few dozed naps while riding. He was tired but he had been far worse before and the youngling was far more important than feeling a little weary.

They pulled the horses up short at the large imposing gate that towered over them, looking up to the guards above.

“State your name and what business you have in Minas Anor!” called one of the soldiers from atop one of the gatehouses on either side.

Elrond held his now anxious steed steady, the blood bay was stamping it’s hooves in agitation. Lalaith after all was just as tired from the journey, if not more, and he wanted a nice long rest in the stables whilst his elf-friend dealt with whatever it was the men needed him for. He and Asfaloth – Glorfindel’s horse companion – knew that it had something to do with a youngling but they didn’t bother to worry about it. Elves and men worried much over things that they had no control over. They should learn to be more like horses. Horses were stable and calm; they knew what to worry about and what would be cared for by nature. It was just how life existed. Still, his elf-friend was concerned for something and until he had no more use for him he would do all he could to help.

“Elrond of Imlandris! I have come with my advisor and my Captain of the Guard, Glorfindel to seek council with Prince Isildur on a very important affair!” Lord Elrond called back.

The name instantly registered with the guards as their prince had informed them the elven lord would be coming. They were to allow him in with no trouble and escort him to the palace at the top of the city as quickly as possible. Prince Anárion had made quite clear that there was to be no delay and of course they all knew without being told that it was connected to the small elf child that had been brought back to the city after a scouting mission the two princes had gone on. The whole situation was so extraordinary that it hadn’t taken long at all for rumours and gossip to begin running rampant throughout the city. The few who worked in the palace and had seen the elfling had instantly told all they knew while those who heard the stories added to them and brought in their own speculations until the truth of the details were lost in a web of curiosity and embellishment.

The one thing that everyone agreed on, however, was that the child was not well and the care of fellow elves might be the only chance the elfling had of healing. The urgency was not lost on the guards.

“We are glad to see you have made it safely my lords!” the guard called before instantly yelling at the men below to have the gates opened.

Orders and the sounds of oxen grunting and pulling were heard before the large, heavy gates to the city were pulled open. Glorfindel sent a glance at his long time friend while gently patting Asfaloth’s neck to sooth him. The creaking and grinding of metal gears and chains almost made the trained warrior elf wince as it assaulted his ears but he pushed back the urge to cover them with his palms and kept a watchful eye out for any deception. He had come to trust many of the men from Gondor but as Elrond’s only guard he could not risk bring caught distracted. Especially when they had no knowledge of how the elfling had ended up injured. He did not want to believe that a man of Gondor could do such a thing but until he was certain he wasn’t going to take any chances.

After what felt like an agonizing wait, the two elves were able to ride through the still opening gates and enter the city. A pair of soldiers were waiting for them on horse back, instantly going to the two’s sides.

“I am Eraith, my lords, and this is Hamelle, please follow us to the palace. Prince Isildur and Prince Anárion are awaiting your arrival urgently.” He said.

Elrond nodded tensely, worry still pulling on his heart. He prayed to the Valar that they were not too late…he did not know how he would be able to forgive himself if they were.

“Please, let us make haste.” He agreed.

The two soldiers nodded and instantly pulled their horses around to start off at a fast gallop up the roads and towards the top of the city where their guests were expected. Elrond and Glorfindel exchanged no words as they simply followed, both desperate for news on the little ellon that needed them.

“Father, father!” Aratan cried as he and his elder brother Elendur burst into the nursery where Isildur had been spending time with Ciryon and Valandil.

Anárion had finally put his foot down and pushed his older brother out of the elfling’s room and promised that he would look over him while Isildur took a break. The man had argued for nearly ten minutes before almost loosing his balance and falling over from exhaustion. Realizing that his brother was right, he gave in and agreed to take a break for the rest of the day. The younger prince had shuffled him off to bed for a few hours and afterwards Isildur couldn’t really argue with his logic. Sleep, a bath and a nice meal had done wonders for his stamina and he had to admit that he had missed his sons. Elendur and Aratan had placed themselves on a mission to keep watch for the elven lord that was supposed to be coming and Ciryon had instantly taken up the chance to be with his father and his new younger brother. He had only been playing with his two youngest for about an hour or so and was not expecting the two older boys to come barging in, making a huge racket and sending Valandil into startled screams and tears.

Isildur quickly tried to sooth his small son’s cries and sent a warning look to Aratan and Elendur for their conduct.

“Elendur, I am most disappointed that you my eldest son and heir to the throne, see it fit to thunder around the halls and throw yourself into rooms without first knocking. You, Aratan, should know better as well. Neither I nor your mother taught you to be barbarian children without the knowledge of manners.” He said firmly, causing the two boys to squirm and look down chastised.

“Yes, father.” They said together.

The prince nodded, seeing that his children understood his words and then turned his gaze to his oldest.

“Now, tell me what message the two of you are so desperate for me to hear.” He said calmly.

Aratan nodded quickly before Elendur looked up again, the eagerness back in his eyes.

“Father, we had to come tell you, the elven lord is here! He has gone to see the elfling! Uncle Anárion has sent us to retrieve you!” he said quickly, trying to appease his father’s mood.

Isildur blinked before relenting; understanding why his sons had been so urgent and stood from the chair he had been sitting in.

“Thank you for coming to tell me,” he said as he gently handed over the now mostly calm child in his arms to Elendur. “I want you to watch over your brothers until I or your Uncle comes back. Don’t leave the room, do you understand?” he said seriously.

He didn’t want his children trying to find out what was going on and seeing something they shouldn’t. The elfling’s fever had risen again in the last day and he was greatly afraid that he would not pull through, even with the help of Elrond. It was not a sight he thought they should witness.

The three boys seemed reluctant, wanting to know what was going on, but they gave in at the stern look he sent them.

“Yes father.” Elendur nodded.

Isildur nodded in return and offered a small smile.

“You are not in trouble for your actions this time but in the future be sure not to run and to knock before you enter. I will let you know what is happening once I am able.” He said gently before he turned quickly and left the nursery, walking briskly towards the room that the small elf was still sleeping in.

He reached the door and knocked softly before slipping in, not wanting to disrupt anything but also not wanting to barge in without warning. Out of the three adults in the room, only two looked up at his entrance. Anárion, who was standing nervously by the door, and a tall blonde elf that Isildur had seen on a few occasions but never quite remembered his name. The elf was standing near the end of the bed, almost as a guard for the small elfling that was shivering under the heavy blankets while the familiar form of Lord Elrond was perched on the edge and leaning over the small child while checking his temperature and feeling along his neck.

“What injuries did he have when you first found him?” the dark haired elf asked worried as he pulled back the blankets and began undressing the elfling carefully so he could examine him better.

Guilt stabbed his heart as he heard a soft whimper of pain escape the youngling’s throat at being uncovered. He was burning with fever but his body still believed he was cold and taking away the blankets helped little with comfort. He was thankful when Glorfindel moved to aid him.

The wounds that were revealed brought more worry to his mind but he was more accustomed to helping with wounds and while Glorfindel was experienced on the battlefield it did not mean he was prepared to see such vicious injuries on an innocent elfling. A small hiss of anger escaped the guard’s lips and Elrond almost wondered if it would be better to send him out of the room. He trusted Glorfindel with his life and he doubted he would listen anyway so he just trained his focus on Isildur and the youngling.

Isildur frowned, stepping a little closer so he could see what they were doing better.

“We found him almost unconscious on the border of our lands. He was bleeding heavily from the shoulder injury…I couldn’t tell what caused it, the wound is strange. We believe there is injury to his chest but I did not want to risk prodding too much and injuring him further. I know little about how to treat an elfling.” He said regretfully.

Elrond shook his head as he carefully began to peal back the layers of bandages on the small elf’s body.

“You did the right thing, elflings are delicate. You could have done more damage if you tried.” He assured him absently, more focused on tossing the old bandages aside and examining the wound.

The gash on the elfling’s shoulder was large and deep, located just above his heart. It reached almost completely over the top of his shoulder to his back and was still not closed completely. It was just a miracle that it didn’t seem infected…it looked horrible.

Glorfindel was holding him up gently and trying his hardest not to touch any of the bruises that seemed to cover the poor elfling’s entire torso and back. It almost looked like he had been hit over and over with some blunt object or thrown into one. The mere idea made the warrior want to ride out and track down the monster that had done this horrendous deed and tear their limbs off. Slowly. He held himself back, though, knowing he was needed there.

“There are also bruises on his legs and a few gashes as well…” Isildur explained, pointing out the injuries before motioning them to gently pull up his leg.

On the back of the elfling’s calf there was a bandage. Elrond gently unbound that as well to show a dark burn.

“It looks bad but when we cleaned and bound it he responded in pain so we know that at least it wasn’t enough to damage anything permanent. It should heal on its own in time.” He said softly.

Elrond nodded with a deep frown on his face as he eased the leg back down and set to getting things ready.

“I’ll need more bandages and as many healing herbs as you have here. I brought what I could but I do not know if it will be enough.” He said as he took the clean bowl of water that a servant had brought when they first entered the room.

“Of course, we’ll have them brought now.” Isildur said, nodding when his brother left to fulfil the order, leaving him to remain with the elves.

He watched Elrond ring out the cloth before starting to try and pat some of the smeared blood from the elfling’s wound. His heart twisted painfully again in his chest when another moaned whimper came from the small ellon.

“Hush, little one, all is well, you are in safe hands.” he whispered gently, brushing the child’s bangs away from his face.

The elven lord frowned as he saw a strange scar on the elfling’s forehead. Glorfindel saw it as well and leaned in a little to get a better look.

“How did that happen?” he asked concerned.

“I am not sure but it seems old…” Isildur said softly, watching them but keeping a respectable distance away now.

Elrond nodded, lightly tracing the scar before pulling back to focus on the shoulder again. The scar was strange and it didn’t look like the youngling could have acquired it through normal means, but it was also old and obviously not a threat to his health while the injury on his shoulder had started to bleed again already.

“I may have to sew it shut.” He said softly, hating to do something so drastic on an elfling but knowing that it might be the only way to have it heal without difficulties later and without as much chance of getting infected.

Glorfindel nodded tensely, his silver blue eyes locked on the small youngling’s face. It was so frustrating for him to sit there and be helpless. He could fight any monster and train hundreds of thousands of elven warriors…but when there was a youngling harmed and broken in his arms he could do nothing…just sit there and watch. The feeling was one of the worst he had experienced so he tried to keep his mind busy wondering over his appearance.

To his knowledge there hadn’t been an elf with hair so dark since the time of the High Elves and Finwë the High King of the Noldor himself. Elrond’s line came closest but theirs was still only darker shades of brown and it was mostly due to the mortal heritage that his lord carried. There were some pure lines, like Erestor’s, that held brown hair but like him, the most common colors for elves were blondes and silvers. Such dark hair would more likely have come from a bloodline mixed with mortal men or women. Was that why the youngling was left alone? Had his elven parent been killed or died of an accident and his mortal one dead of old age before the youngling was mature enough to know how to care for himself? Had the villagers or people around them shunned them for their joining? Had the child been abandoned to starve and die alone?

He certainly hoped not because if a story like that was true he would show them what it meant to harm one of the First Born.

Glorfindel was brought out of his dark thoughts by the younger prince and a servant girl bringing in the items that Elrond needed to help the small elfling. Instantly the lord set about making sure the instruments were clean and beginning to mix pastes and creams that would help sooth the young one’s pain while encouraging the injuries to heal. The blonde guard once more felt useless.

Elrond, however, had much to do and he helped to move the pillows out of the way so that his friend could gently ease the elfling down flat on the bed. He quickly decided that it was for the better that he sewed the wound shut, despite how young his patient was. His mind set, the elven lord began preparing the needle and using another paste, he cleaned the wound and the skin around it once more and numbed it for the process. He didn’t want to bring more pain than he had to, even if the youngling was unconscious. He would have to deal with this first then work on getting the fever down.

The head guard watched closely, concerned as he knelt by the young one’s head, reaching out to brush his bangs soothingly to try and bring some comfort to the other’s mind. He whispered softly to the ellon, telling him stories of Imlandris and what a wonderful home they would give him. He sung lullabies softly to try and fight away whatever demons were plaguing his mind.

Elrond said nothing, knowing that Glorfindel needed to feel like he was helping and that if they could give the elfling even just a small amount of comfort it was worth it. If the two men thought it strange or out of place they said nothing.

Isildur watched anxiously from his place at his brother’s side, wishing he could help as well but knowing that the elves would not take kindly to such an offer at the moment. That meant he had to simply watch and wait. He shifted, looking to Anárion and offered an apologetic smile.

“Could you go check on the boys? Make sure they get lunch. I don’t want them worrying too much over this.” He whispered. “And please keep them in the nursery…”

The taller brother nodded, glancing back at the elves for a moment before pulling away from the wall and opening the door to leave.

“Send someone to tell me if anything goes wrong.” He whispered, not so much to not let the elves hear them – they could after all – but just to not bother them or wake the youngling.

Isildur nodded and watched his brother leave before turning his attention back to the elves. Elrond was working hard and carefully to not bring more harm to the youngling. He found it interesting to watch, trying to catalogue what the other was doing and taking mental notes on how he handled the items he had and the steps he took in the procedures. The elven lord obviously knew far more about healing than he did and it was evident in his movements. It wasn’t surprising, however, considering he was thousands of years older than him and probably had just as much time to learn.


After what felt like ages Elrond was finally able to pull back and wipe his hands with a towel, knowing that he had done all he could. He had sewn up the injury on the shoulder then eased the other’s ribs by gently pressing them back into place. Thankfully they hadn’t been too bad, just a bit bruised and cracked. More salves and pastes helped sooth the bruises and burns on the elfling’s body and after dribbling some special tea mixed with healing herbs down his throat, his fever would hopefully be lowering soon.

Now, however, he was a bit bloody and quite exhausted.

Isildur stepped closer, looking to the dark haired lord once more and offering a faintly concerned look.

“I can take you to one of our bathing rooms for you to clean up, Lord Elrond, and I can have food brought to you both. You are probably weary from your travels…I’m sorry for having to contact you on such short notice.” He said politely, knowing how much commotion must have come from a messenger showing up in Lórien telling them there was a hurt child of their people in another kingdom.

“No, we greatly appreciate your messenger coming as soon as possible to inform us of the situation.” He said sincerely as he stood from the bed. “I can not explain to you accurately how much sorrow would have been felt by our people if this had occurred without our knowledge. Thank you.”

Isildur nodded his head in acknowledgement.

“We would not allow a child to be abandoned, no matter what race that child was.” He swore before stepping back some. “Please, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you where you can refresh yourself.”

Elrond nodded, looking to Glorfindel.

“Will you be alright to watch over the youngling until I return?” he asked, knowing that the blonde was probably just as tired as he was, if not a bit cleaner.

Glorfindel almost rolled his eyes. As if he would allow the elfling to be alone…

“I will be fine, my lord. You should make yourself respectable again, we wouldn’t want our little ellon thinking that we are barbarian elves now would we?” he teased faintly.

Elrond just chuckled and nodded.

“Very well, my friend, I will return shortly.” he agreed, looking back to the elder prince.

Isildur nodded again and turned to lead Elrond out, reminding himself to go have a servant bring food once he was sure the elven lord was taken care of. He probably should go see his sons again, make sure that they were alright even though he knew they were in good hands. It would be more comforting to them to hear the news from their father.

The blonde elf watched the two leave before turning back to the small figure on the bed and carefully covering him with the blankets again to keep him from getting any worse, fever wise. He took one of the only remaining bowls left of clean water and dipped the cloth inside before ringing it out again and wiping the soft sheen of sweat from the youngling’s face.

The youngling didn’t seem to feel the touch, not moving or responding as he laid the cooler rag onto his forehead. It was a bit troubling to see the small elfling that should be filled with so much energy and life lying so still on a bed with his eyes closed. Even elflings did not sleep with their eyes closed unless they were very sick. Knowing that this situation was bad enough that the youngling’s body would react as if he was mortal caused Glorfindel’s nerves to be on edge.

“You should not worry us so, little one.” he whispered softly, his fingers gently brushing through the silky ebony hair. “You don’t have to be afraid any longer…you are safe. We’ll never allow anyone to harm you again…I’LL never allow anyone to harm you again…I’ll protect you, you have my word. You need to recover so that I can show you Imlandris…show you your new home…”

To his surprise, however, his voice brought a response from the small elfling. His brow wrinkled and a soft moan escaped his lips. Glorfindel instantly leaned in, pressing his fingers to the other’s forehead.

“Shh, little one, I’m right here, it’s okay.” he whispered softly, trying to sooth the youngling but he watched closely as the dark lashes fluttered faintly and slowly his eyes opened.

Glorfindel was a bit startled seeing the vivid green eyes gazing unfocused up at the ceiling before shifting over to him. The small elf seemed confused but not strong enough to pull away or try to sit up. Reaching out to ensure that he didn’t try, not wanting him to worsen his condition, the guard tried to sooth him brushing his forehead gently.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe…I’m not going to hurt you…I’m here to protect you.” he whispered, wanting the other to understand that he was no in danger any longer. “We are here now…”


Harry wasn’t sure what was going on, he couldn’t see well and he felt worse than before, hot and as if his head was swimming in the ooze that Snape always stocked his potions ingredients in. He could hear a soft voice, soothing and warm, making him think of singing again. He tried to make his eyes focus; he needed to be able to see who this person was because he knew it wasn’t the man from before. He didn’t like the idea that someone else was looming over him when he couldn’t protect himself.

Forcing his vision to push away the blurriness and finally be able to see just who was talking to him, he almost believed for a moment that he had died. The creature – it couldn’t be a human – was so breathtakingly beautiful that he thought he was seeing an angel. He remembered seeing the Veelas at the Quidditch World Cup and meeting Fleur during the Tri-wizard Tournament but even the highly influential pull the creatures had on his mind didn’t come close to the same level of radiance that was coming from the blonde creature looking down on him now.

He heard the beautiful person begin talking again, trying to calm him from any of the worries he was facing but he couldn’t make out the words, the sound of his voice. The lyrical tones drifted into his mind and without even realizing it the pain in his head began to recede a little. The gentle, feather light touches on his hair and forehead made his eyes flutter faintly and droop. The fear and anxiety of what these people could do to him melted away and there was just something about the other gently brushing his hair and trying to sooth his fears that made him think that maybe…this was what it felt like to have a mother…someone to care about him so much about him without even thinking about who he was or what he had done.

In his fogged, very groggy state Harry didn’t bother to be worried about what was going on or how easily the blonde could hurt him. It just didn’t seem like it was important…the look in the others eyes reminded him of Sirius…reminded him of the unconditional devotion he had for him and how he would do anything to keep him safe and happy. He wondered once again what his life would have been like if he had grown up in Sirius’s care…


“My name is Glorfindel, little one, how are you feeling?” he asked worried. “Are you hurting anywhere? Do you feel ill?”

He had to ask after all, he had to make sure that there wasn’t a problem hidden or that Elrond might have missed. He trusted the lord as the best healer in Middle Earth but even an elf could make mistakes. When the elfling didn’t say anything for a moment he was worried that he couldn’t speak or that he didn’t understand.

After a moment though, the words seemed to register and the small elfling managed the faintest of head shakes to tell him that he didn’t.

“N-no..” he choked out.

The blonde nodded, placing the cooled rag back on his forehead.

“Then rest, you are safe here with us and once you are better we will take you home.” he said gently.

He watched closely as the ellon just looked up at him weakly. He wished more than anything that he could take the other’s place, to be the one that was hurt and allow the youngling to go unscathed…but it wasn’t so. All he was able to do was to stay with him so that he would not have to go through the pain alone.

“Can you tell me your name, little one? Do you have parents?” he asked gently, though he wasn’t expecting parents to be alive after finding him alone – at least not an elven parent.

The youngling seemed to waver for a moment, a dull pain flittering across his eyes.

“N-no…” he whispered, “The-they’re both…dead.”

Glorfindel nodded a little and brushed his fingers through the dark hair again softly. He couldn’t even begin to understand how scared a young elfling must be alone in a strange place. It just wasn’t right.

“Do you have a name then, or should I keep calling you little one?” he teased softly, hoping to bring a little smile to the other’s face.

No smile came though and for a long moment the elfling said nothing. When he finally did say something though Glorfindel wasn’t expecting what came out.

“I don’t…have a name…”


Harry wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say but he knew that he didn’t want to tell them his real name on the off chance that they might know of him. No, it would be better just to act like he didn’t have one or he didn’t remember, he could work from there. Besides, with a name like ‘Glorfindel’ he doubted that ‘Harry’ wouldn’t just stand out too much and bring anymore unwanted attention to him. Once he was able to figure out where he was and what was going on he’d come up with a new name until he could find Sirius.

“Wh-where am I?” he whispered weakly, wanting to see if he could gather a hint as to where exactly he had landed.

“You are in the kingdom of Gondor and currently residing in the palace of Minas Anor.” he said softly.

The words didn’t comfort him at all. He didn’t know where this Gondor was or Minas Anor…obviously though it sounded as if the world he had dropped in was set in some strange time difference. Maybe that was why the clothes all seemed to be based on ancient styles and why there were still kingdoms and palaces. It didn’t explain why he had pointy ears though. This person, however, had the same pointy ears… He wanted to ask what he was what type of creature he had become but asking about your own race would probably bring on some suspicion.

He was starting to feel tired again; sleepy and unsure about what he was going to do next. It was so much to take in at one time…so much to plan. He had to find out where he was, what he could do to find Sirius and then figure out a way to get back home. Yeah, it wasn’t the best place to be but he didn’t know how much better it would be to live in a time period out of the history books. He also didn’t want to stay too long and get caught up in any more of the trouble that he seemed to attract.

The blonde seemed to be able to feel his uncertainty and concern because he began talking again in his soft, soothing voice.

“Do not worry yourself now…just rest little one. You are safe and once you are well again we will take care of you.” he said gently, so soft and warm that Harry simply couldn’t fight against it any longer.

His eyes began to droop and the cloud of haze over his mind weighed down on him until he was lost into the sweet bliss of unconsciousness.


Glorfindel continued to run his fingers through the elfling’s hair, silently going over everything in his mind. He had been correct to assume that the youngling’s parents were dead. It wasn’t a comforting thought but he just hoped that the other hadn’t witnessed their deaths. If the small, frail creature would be traumatized he hoped that it wasn’t too much for him to bear. Elves might not easily die from injury but they were all susceptible to a broken heart. If the elfling was too far gone even after recovering from his physical wounds then it might just be more painful than before.

He hoped that wasn’t to be the youngling’s fate.

The blonde guard continued to remain at his side, stroking his hair and watching over him to try and soothe his fear away. He swore to himself that he would protect him…that if the youngling had no family he would become his family. Whatever it took to help him be happy and safe he would do…

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AN: So Harry has met Glorfindel! Tell me what you think! Thank you all for the amazing comments! I can’t say how wonderful you all are to me! Thank you! Oh and I'm starting a little message system thing to tell anyone who wants to know when this story is updated. If you want me to e-mail you and let you know please just put your email address on a review and I'll email you when I update. Thank you! ^^