A/N: I must not only bow to Tolkien for the characters author Edward Khmara for some of the plot ideas. I get unsure when I go into a completely new writing idea and would love feedback, so please let me know what you think! Thank you!! To my faithful readers, do not worry, Milkya will return in my next story along with that group and timeline. This is a detour in my writing journey.
Chapter One
I will tell you a story. A story of the old religion, one where magic is as real to you as the clothes on your back. Perhaps you will not believe me. For this is not magic as we know commonly in our world, but that of a different source, a different power altogether. The only thing I can ask is that you hear my tale and then make you own judgment, is what I speak real or is it nothing but a dream?
It started after my fight with the Balrog, after my trip to Mandos and my rebirth to beautiful Imladris. This is the time when Elrond and CelebrÃan were the proud parents of two boys, Elladan and Elrohir. They were yet young then and in lessons. It is there in the exquisite realm of Elrond that I saw things even I, who had visited the Valar themselves, would not believe to be real. Then again, not many in this age practice those arts of long ago.
Now sit and listen to my words, and forgive me if everything is not as it seems, for I am a warrior and not a storyteller. Things may get going quick, for the buildup to me is a little boring, but I shall do my best to give you the events as they occurred.
Now, let us begin.
Imladris in summer is truly a magnificent sight. The days are lovely for relaxing and playing and the nights bring a cool that refreshes you to the core. For two young elves, though, their summer would only be complete if there were no lessons for them to take. Alas, that was not to be for Elladan and Elrohir, in this warmth of the late afternoon sun they were on the training fields with myself, Glorfindel, their tutor in all things military.
"Come, young Lord, you must attack with more precision. Your form needs to be clean and tight or an enemy will get through your defenses." I said, "Attack me again."
From the grasses nearby, Elrohir cheered, "Come, brother, show him what power is in our blood!"
Holding up his wooden staff, Elladan got into position for assault and sprung into action with a noble attempt, and once more was face down on the ground. "No fair!" he protested, "You are so much bigger than I am!" At his young age, perhaps 12 in the years of humans, such outbursts are still common, even in the sons of a powerful Lord.
"And was not the Balrog so much bigger than I was?" Came the question.
"But you died to!"
Fair point.
"Now, now, my son, the sun is low, time to come in for dinner and lessons with Erestor." Elrond chided as he strolled towards us.
Hearing the magic word: dinner, the twins gathered their "weapons" and ran towards the house with all speed. I stayed behind to clear the sparring ring for the next comers.
"How are they progressing?" Elrond asked me.
"Very well, actually, though Elladan more so than Elrohir. I think maybe I finally have a way to tell them apart. Perhaps your younger is meant for something other than fighting."
"It is true," Elrond agreed, "he does so much better at lessons with Erestor. My youngest may be a scholar, which would suit me fine. I could not bear to see them both fight in battles. One would make my heart suffer, two would crush it."
I nodded and could understand his point, though I had no children of my own to compare that feeling to.
"If we want some dinner ourselves, we best hurry before hungry and hungrier eat everything in the kitchens." Elrond laughed at my joke and together we returned.
I sat eating my own dinner as the sun finally bid farewell to Imladris. When the dessert course came, to the screams of delight of the twins, a shadowy figure appeared in the archway.
"Ah, Erestor!" Elrond called, "So good to see you. I trust your day went well."
"As good as can be expected." Came the mumblings of the reply. I smiled when he appeared. He is an old, if not distant, friend.
When the twins' faces were covered with sweet cream from their dessert Erestor knew it was time for them to have their lessons with him. History, negotiations, languages, writing and arithmetic were but a short list of the topics Erestor covered in the evenings. Hyper from the sweets, the black robed Elf had his work cut out for him as the children bounded off towards the library, Erestor slowly in tow.
I stayed with Elrond in the great hall. Usually we would break into a great discussion about any range of topics from defense to plain gossip. Now every conversation, even among elves, need be Arda shattering. Tonight, however, Elrond was musing deeply about something and my curiosity got the better of me, as it always did.
"What are you thinking about, my friend?" I asked.
"Glorfindel?" Elrond began, "What are your impressions of Erestor?"
That question caught me completely of guard. I was expecting him to ask me that the same as to ask me whether I wanted to wear pink ribbons in my hair.
"Why did you ask me that?"
Elrond sighed, "My friend, I know your relationship has been interesting, if not a little disjoined. Do you consider him a friend? He has been so alone for a long time and I think someone like you could bring him out of his shell."
"I do like him, he is someone I would like to know better."
"I wish you luck on your journey to find Erestor, Glorfindel. But know this, he is not an elf as you and I are. He is something different altogether and be careful. I would not wish to see you hurt and drawn into his darkness."
"His darkness?" I gasped, "What do you mean?"
Elrond stood, "I cannot tell you more, I was sworn to secrecy. I can reveal no more than I have. Goodnight, Glorfindel."
Elrond's spooky demeanor made me think more about my friend, Erestor. He was one I had known for a long time. I first met him when we both lived in Gondolin. He was one of the refugees on that mountain pass when I had my little skirmish with the Balrog. I remember him covered in children. Being one of their tutors, those who had lost parents either to battle, injury or simply were lost in the chaos of our exit, clung to him as their trusted teacher. Erestor held as many as he could in his arms, and kept the elder ones around him by yelling their names and ordering them to keep up and stay with him. His voice rang out, commanding and piercing and the children could easily follow his words to safety and hopefully, an eventual reuniting with at least one of their parents. In that way, he saved as many lives and I had, but my way had fire and death and much more glory.
Being one of those elves whom I had known from my previous life, I thought I knew everything there was about him. However, thinking even more deeply on the subject I realized that I didn't know him at all! I didn't know his favorite food, music or even time of year. I didn't know what books he liked to read above all or even what he did all day. All I, and all of Imladris, knew about the advisor was that he was locked away in his study working all day while the sun shone and spent the evenings, under the moon's light, teaching Elladan and Elrohir from his vast knowledge. No one knew what he did with his personal time, but for the schedule he kept, it was possible he did not have any personal time.
The idea that an even greater secret had been kept from me all these years, indeed, centuries, rattled me to the core and I vowed I would discover all that remained hidden, and in so doing, perhaps bring Erestor's attention to me as well and strengthen our friendship.
TBC