He'd come wild-eyed to Imladris, barging into Elrond's study on rank and because none had dared touch the raving Man: "Take it! You must take it!"
The ring extended in trembling fingers had chilled Elrond's very soul. And as Isildur had staggered closer, Elrond had reached, meaning to steady him.
But Isildur had flinched. And then attacked. It'd needed Erestor, Glorfindel, Elrond, and two servants to subdue him fully.
Now young Ohtar frets at his lord's sickbed. "Sir?" he asks, worriedly. Elrond, considering Isildur's uneasy rest, replies quietly:
"He'll be no trouble henceforth," and slips a hand into his pocket...
I'd attempted to write this as part of the "Edge of the Knife" drabble series, but it wouldn't fit. But I needed something to fill an accidental (the title of this drabble is appropriate on multiple levels now!) repetition in the B-day drabbles that I couldn't delete, so I dropped it in here for anyone who might have a hankering for Ringlord!Elrond.