The 'Life in Imladris' Arc – stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell.
DandelionDisclaimer: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.
Note: This is not the first story in this arc. It's probably not even the second or third. I have three other stories started and a long list of ideas for others, but this was the first one done and I didn't want to wait any longer to post it. However, this story should be able to stand alone. I have no beta, so any mistakes are my own.
Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer.
Chapter One
He knew this was the ultimate end of his existence in Middle-earth. His last sight would be of flames. His last taste would be of tangy blood, the last thing he heard would be his own echoing screams, and his last smell would be that of sulfur and burning flesh. But he didn't feel any of the pain that should be associated with his other senses. All he could feel was an overwhelming sense of victory…
Glorfindel jolted awake and it took a few deep breaths for him to realize he was in his bedroom in Imladris. No balrog threatened him or the people of his city. The warmth on his face came from the sun, already fully above the horizon, but not high enough to wake most of the inhabitants of the Last Homely House. He had not had that particular dream in many decades, but after centuries, it had lost none of its potency.
He slid out of bed and walked over to his balcony, looking forward to watching the sun complete its journey into the sky and savoring the last bit of peace before he would be dragged from his chambers. Years ago he had promised the twin sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir, that he would take them on a long journey through the Misty Mountains as a Coming of Age present, but problems had arisen and it was not until this very morning that he would be able to fulfill his promise.
Their party was scheduled to set out around noon and Glorfindel knew that there were many preparations that still needed to be seen to. With a sigh, he turned his back on the sun so he could prepare for the day.
"I shall kill more orcs than you!" Elladan informed his twin, younger by merely minutes.
"Think what you want, but prepare to be disappointed," Elrohir shot back, rechecking his bow for the tenth time in half an hour. He was nervous about the trip, but that didn't take away from any of his excitement, either. "What are we still waiting for?"
"Erestor is still not content with the packing of the supplies," Elrond smiled, stepping up next to his youngest and removing the bow from his slim fingers. "Your bow seems to be in perfect condition, Elrohir." Elladan laughed as his brother flushed.
"Ada, do you not wish you were coming with us?" Elladan inquired.
"No, I am very content to remain here with the peace and quiet," Elrond replied. "I am sure you will have much more fun without me, anyway." He handed the bow back to Elrohir as Erestor, his chief counselor, approached.
"We are ready to depart now," he informed the family.
"Finally!" Elladan exclaimed. "Good-bye Ada!" He gave his father a quick kiss on the cheek and then practically skipped over to where their traveling party was gathering next to the three packhorses. Elrohir, slightly more demure, allowed his father to envelope him in a tight hug.
"Are you sure you do not wish to remain here with me?" Elrond questioned jokingly, rubbing his youngest's back through the thick material of his hunting jerkin and winter cloak.
"No," Elrohir said confidently. "I must make sure that Elladan does not kill all of the orcs without me." He still looked somewhat hesitant to leave his father's side, but there was also a strong resolve in his eyes to prove himself to the much older and more experienced warriors that were accompanying them. It was the first time the twins had been separated from both of their parents for an extended period of time.
"Come now, pen-neth, we mustn't keep your brother waiting," Erestor smiled, sharing an amused look with his lord. Elrond followed them towards the waiting group, scanning a critical eye over the party.
"You will be careful with them, Glorfindel," he informed the leader of the small party.
"Ada, we are adults now," Elladan complained, giving his father a suffering look. He had diligently reminded his father of that at every opportunity for the past seven years, since the day he and Elrohir had reached fifty years old and their majority. Elrond pursed his lips together.
"Do not worry, mellon, no harm shall befall anyone," Glorfindel laughed. "Let us depart."
The party of eight elves and four men crossed the bridge that would let them out of structural part of Imladris, though it would take them until the end of the night to reach the true borders of the elven refuge. The leader of the group was, of course, Glorfindel. He had hand picked three of his best warriors, Turma, Ehtyar, and Cúrië, to travel with them as well, more for the peace of mind of Elrond and Erestor than for necessity. Erestor was not as easily appeased as their lord, and had therefore decided to also come, if not to make sure Glorfindel did not get the twins killed, but to keep poor Lindir company. Lindir would have rather not come, being in the middle of a new song, but Glorfindel had demanded his presence and Lindir was never one to purposely conflict with anyone.
The men in their group had come at the request of the twins, who had always been fascinated with their late uncle's descendants, the rangers whom they had befriended in the last decade. Adkar was the leader of the men and had been a fairly constant presence in the twins' lives since they were born. With him was Ramses, another man who was familiar to the twins. The last two humans, Metarch and Tarmin, were strangers, brought by Adkar because they had proven themselves as capable warriors.
"Sing for us," Elladan requested of Adkar with a wide grin. Adkar returned his infectious smile.
"What song would you like?" he questioned. He had occasionally incited the ire of Elrond and Erestor with his less than poetic songs in the Hall of Fire, but the twins soaked up every word… the reason Elrond and Erestor disliked the songs.
"The maiden song," Elrohir suggested, perking up slightly at the thought of the bawdy songs the men knew.
"Elrohir…" Erestor sighed, but it did not prevent Adkar from starting the song at the top of his lungs. Seconds later both twins had joined in. The other men added their deep voices. Lindir rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the small twitch at the corner of his mouth as he observed the mirth of the twin sons of Elrond.
The singing continued for hours and Erestor swore they sang every lewd song known to men, and repeated some of them. Despite the abuse of his ears and integrity, he didn't comment, knowing it was keeping the wild twins occupied and out of trouble.
Glorfindel dropped back to keep step with Lindir. "Why do you not partake in the singing? I am sure your beautiful voice would compliment theirs exquisitely."
Lindir gave him an exasperated look, his hazel eyes looking pained. "Whoever defined this as music was obviously deaf," he complained.
"You wound me, child," Glorfindel teased. He had partaken in some of the songs and laughed merrily at the rest.
"I still do not understand why I had to come," Lindir changed the subject.
"I wanted to make sure you have not lost all of the sword skills I labored so hard to teach you," answered Glorfindel.
"I have not," Lindir informed him. "They are of no use to me, anyway."
"Oh?"
"I am sure there will always be someone there to defend me should I be attacked," Lindir joked, knowing that Glorfindel hated it when people were unable to defend themselves against physical threats. Every elf, including the female servants in Elrond's home, had been rigorously schooled in the art of self-defense. He had even started training the twins at the tender age of twelve, much to Celebrían's consternation.
"I think it is time to stop for the night," Adkar stated after a while. The sun had started to set, and before long it would be dark. The winter days were shorter and while no one in the party was particularly tired, it would be too dangerous to trudge through the snow in the dark.
"I agree," Glorfindel nodded. He doled out jobs to each person in their group so the camp could be set up quickly. Usually, they would not have to set up tents, as the elves loved to stare up at the stars, but with the threat of snow still imminent it was a safety measure to prevent them from becoming buried in a snowdrift.
"How long until we reach the mountains?" Elrohir questioned, bouncing over to Glorfindel's side. Glorfindel was glad to see his enthusiasm had returned. For a minute he had worried that Elrohir would succumb to his father's subtle urgings to remain behind, but the younger twin had held strong and now looked to be enjoying himself immensely.
"Less than two weeks," Glorfindel replied.
"Will we see orcs before then?"
"I hope not," laughed the balrog-slayer. "Otherwise, they would be too close to Imladris for comfort."
"I told Elladan we would not," Elrohir gloated. He hurried from Glorfindel's side to inform Elladan of his blunder.
tbc…
Translations:
Ada (Sindarin) – "dad"
pen-neth (S) – "young one"
mellon (S) – "friend"
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