Hello lovely readers! This is story that has been banging around my head for a while, one that I have deliberated sharing or not, but have finally decided that I might as well. Please forgive my mistakes/inconsistencies etc. I'm writing for fun, and though I want to try and be accurate, considering I have chosen a character with so little (basically no) canonical history, that is kind of a moot point. Essentially, this is just what my mind has supplied as a possible origin for the mysterious character of Erestor, with appearances from many other well-recognized characters. Please enjoy, review and give me feedback! As always, enjoy the read, I hope you enjoy.

This story takes place somewhere around The Second Age, before the fall of Eregion.


Erestor wandered cautiously through the unknown forest, letting the gentle voices of the trees wash over him as his eyes scanned the forest for any sign of the one he searched for. As charming as the trees were, the elf could not and would not allow himself to become distracted by them, knowing all too well that he was at a disadvantage in these unfamiliar lands.

The trail he was following was faint, barely even present in some places, but he was stubborn and tracking was something he had always excelled at. So he doggedly picked his way through the woods and thick underbrush, feeling the ebb of life through the happily humming woods.

Hello strange little elf, came the voices of the trees, do stop and talk to us.

A small smile curled at the elf's lips, but he just muttered an apology, unable to stop his pursuit in fear of having already given his quarry too large a head start. I'll be back, he soothed the trees, I'll be back and I'll bring my brother too, so you'll have two elves to speak to, rather than just one. The trees delighted at that, and the dark-haired elf smirked fully this time, knowing just how much his brother would hate him for forcing him to listen to the trees. Not that the other elf held anything against the woods, he just simply did not have the patience to endure their languid conversation and soft-spoken commenting.

At the thoughts of his brother, the elf grew serious again, thinking back to their last argument, to the horrid things that had been said and angry accusations that had led them to this point. Perhaps they both could have used more patience then, rather than the hasty and heated words with which they had fought.

Thinking back to it, not everything that had happened even added up, and it was only in hindsight that the elf could see where he had been in the wrong, where he had been too angry to try and understand Eludor's sign of the argument. He could have done better, he should have, but hindsight was a useless thing, and though he berated himself, the elf stuffed down his ire, more driven by his earlier failure to right the things that had gone wrong.

He paused momentarily, crouching to inspect the subtleties in the fox trails that scampered across the ground. Erestor would have to remind his dearest brother, that animals, least of all, foxes, did not leave such patterned and precise footprints. Shaking his head and standing from his crouch, the elf continued on his chosen path, more convinced than ever that the fool was actively avoiding and misdirecting him. But it the reason as to why that still remained a mystery.

Worry settled in his stomach, heavy as a stone as the dark-haired elf thought to how badly things had been as of late. He knew it went beyond the extent of two angry elves arguing and fighting like children. It ranged from the air between himself and Eludor, to the tension that has seeped into the region over the last fews years. He had been increasingly uneasy lately as he witnessed more and more people fight over utter nonsense, strangers draw weapons against each other, and the old tribes of Rhûn suddenly finding anger in the differences they had long put to rest.

As much as Erestor had tried to ignore the glaring troubles, he could no longer simply push aside the mounting uneasiness which all those living in the East felt. The proud but amicable people, once meeting casually and trading freely, now found all reasons for paranoia, unwilling to barter or even listen to one another in fear of hearing unfavorable news or igniting more arguments.

Nothing brought more despair to the elf than the image of the desolate trading junctions, empty fields and spaces sparsely littered with the few tents that remained. The posts had been bustling with trade for as long as he could remember, and it saddened Erestor deeply to see them fading into memory so quickly. If there was anything he could do to stop it, he would do it in a heartbeat, but that all rested on his ability to find Eludor and slap some sense into him.

What is wrong, strange elf? the worry from the trees broke through his thoughts, and he shook his head. These trees, so different from the ones beyond the Misty Mountains, were all so eager to help and let their melodious voices flow like the breeze. They were alert and awake, almost bursting with energy in comparison to the slowed and tired voices of those ancient trees of the east. These young woods teased lightly and let their thoughts flit from one thing to another, so odd from the woods in Rhûn, where the tree-voices were hoarser and their interactions sluggish and critical in the way of the extremely weary.

So much is wrong, friends, he whispered as he stopped in front of a large tree, perhaps you can help me?

The trees delighted, swaying their branches happily and whispering how they may be of service as the elf put a hand to the tree's trunk. Have you seen another elf come this way? Dark hair, wearing the same colors as I? He should have thought to ask the trees earlier, but his thoughts were so consuming, he had acted more on instinct than anything.

The trees ruffled their leaves, yes, yes, another strange elf came this way! They offered little else, but simple was the way of trees, so the dark-haired elf smiled, gently pushing them for more, which way did he go? The wood underneath his hand hummed with life and the forest grew louder with coalescing whispers, west, west! they echoed, heading to the kingdom, he was.

Really? it shouldn't have been such a surprise as it was, but he had heard his brother disregard the elven kingdom with such bitterness for so long, he almost expected him to avoid it at all costs. So, he was heading for Lindon after all?

yes, yes, the kingdom, yes, to the Blue Mountains and beyond, the trees continued, he spoke so little, but the lonely elf goes to see the king!

Lonely indeed, thought Erestor, if he had been talking to the trees.

Belatedly he realized, to see the king!? That was even more of a surprise, because since when did Eludor care to speak to the Noldor king?

There it was again, that sinking feeling that bubbled in the elf's chest, as whispers from his memory raced to the forefront of his mind. Rough whispers behind cupped hands and the tight-lipped, drawn faces among people as they filtered in and out of villages and junctions. The occasional news from the western lands had always intrigued Erestor, but he had not paid too much mind to the updates about the events there. He had been far more concerned recently with the festering implications of darkness within their own lands, traveling frequently from villages to traveling tribes to collect what information he could. Those trips had revealed the enormity of the fear that actually plagued the lands, and the extent with which it had spread. From the Iron Hills and Dor-winion to the far eastern shore of the Sea of Rhûn, there was an unnatural tension in the very earth that was manifesting in tangible ways now.

Erestor suppressed a shudder as a wave of alarm swept through him, the critical thoughts that had pestered him for months threatening to encroach on him now, when it would be most inconvenient. He just couldn't shake the feeling of discontent that had plagued him for long now, perhaps even since the blue men from across the western sea had arrived years ago.

The dark-haired elf patted the tree's trunk before moving in the direction they had indicated, his mind still reeling with more thoughts than he could process. What could possibly be driving Eludor to actually go to Lindon and seek out the king he had long since sneered at? It was not like the older elf was only ever bitter, but he had always had a harsh resentment of all things in the west, wanting ferociously to ignore and forget the fact he had ever lived there. The news of his departure for those very lands, had shocked and stunned Erestor thoroughly.

He thought back to the heated words he had shared with the wizards when he had learned of his brother's departure. Pallando had remained angrily silent towards both the elf and fellow istari, refusing to reveal what it was that had sent Eludor away. And, later, when the elf stormed away angry and confused, it was Alatar who had followed him and demanded adamantly that he go after his brother. As if he hadn't been fully prepared to do so already.

He had set off that very night, already behind with the hours, if not day, long head start the other elf had had. That had been well over a month ago, and the entire time the dark-haired elf felt he had been close yet decidedly behind his quarry. And now he felt like he was even more behind, given his delay in the mountains where many unsavory things still lurked about, and where he had to fight his way through a group of stone trolls that caught him off-guard. He had been so tired from his dogged pursuit, and had smacked right into a massive boulder that had not been there moments before. The sounds of the creatures shifting to surround him had made him quickly realize that it wasn't a boulder he had collided with, and that he was about to be in a world of trouble.

Thankfully, all traces of exhaustion had fled and the elf's speed saved him from that potentially lethal situation. Although the pursuit that ensued had forced him to back track a few times and find another way around the troll territory, he eluded the trolls at last, relatively unscathed and more aware of the need for caution. It had cost him the whole night, and had set him back tremendously, but after that encounter, he forced himself to rest, spending the whole morning on the high branches of a sturdy oak. But time was pressing, and something inside him was urging him to be quick, as if a there was a deadline he were fighting against, one he couldn't see, or discern, but one that drove him, regardless, to pick up his pace. With those thoughts, the elf took off at a run in the direction the trees lead him on, mindful of uplifted roots or low hanging branches.

Finding Eludor was proving to be a challenge, for the older elf had many more years of experience, and he had, after all, spent the first years of his life in the west. Yes, he had an advantage, but Erestor was nothing if not determined, and he this was one matter he was not willing to drop.

The friendly trees whispered to him as he darted past.


Glorfindel was not a happy elf. No, he was decidedly not happy at all, not at the moment, and not since this Eru-forsaken day had even started. The golden-haired elf tried to block out the needless prattle of his officers as they examined the scene of the crime, pinching the bridge of his nose against the headache that was threatening to develop. The balrog-slayer glared at the tenaciously happy trees that swayed around him, gleefully unaware of his sour mood. Or maybe, Glorfindel thought sardonically, they were aware of it and yet enjoyed throwing their mirth in his face.

There was unease beneath his anger, and he knew it had more to do with the unexplained events of the day than his own misfortunes. He never was one to linger on the negative, but today had been trying from the very beginning, and it was not being helped by his current predicament. It was bad enough that he had woken in the middle of the night because of nightmares of fire and ruin, and as exhausted as he was, he had refused to go back to sleep and risk slipping into scenes best left forgotten. On top of that rocky start, the elf had been fetched from his quarters some few hours later by a nervous looking healer's apprentice. The young elleth had apologized profusely before letting him know that his presence was needed immediately in the healing wards and leading him there herself.

Glorfindel had followed, quietly promising extra stable cleaning and paper work to whichever officers under his command had managed to get themselves into trouble this time. Yes, Glorfindel had been annoyed yet fully prepared to reprimand his underlings, but he had not been ready for what truly greeted him when he entered the healing rooms.

Taking up most of the beds and looking to be among varying states of injury and duress, were what had to have been half of the elves under his charge. Most had been bandaged up, a few lay unconscious, while others still clearly shaken, watched silent and wide-eyed as he entered. Scanning the room that was still bustling with confused energy, Glorfindel had sought out the elf he instinctively knew would be among the healers. Bent over a squirming officer, was none other than Elrond himself, speaking in a hushed but reassuring voice. Glorfindel had taken the scene in for a moment longer, before calling out in a low but stern voice, "Does anyone want to tell me, what on Arda happened here?"

The question had been met with averted gazes and low mutterings, the typical embarrassment that came often from too young and inexperienced officers. It was, unsurprisingly, Elrond who answered him, "Their patrol was attacked somewhere in the woods," the Peredhel had said, shaking his head, "too close to the city and even worse, no one got a good look at what happened."

This, Glorfindel found nearly unacceptable, "what do you mean, no one saw," his voice must have carried some edge in it, for some of his officers cringed and were even more unable to look at him. Elrond had shaken his head, "none of the officers brought in could tell what us happened," he had shaken his head, "it's the strangest thing, not a single one got a good look at who or what attacked them." The exasperation in the other's voice had been nearly tangible.

At that moment, one of the officers, the one Elrond had been trying to soothe, spoke up, "We couldn't see anything because not only was it dark, but it was like the very shadows moved against us!" the officer's eyes had been too wide and bright for Glorfindel's liking. "It came out of nowhe-" a stern shushing from Elrond got the shaken officer to calm down once again.

Shadows that moved? That was not a good sign, and the blond elf could felt a tickle of worry in his chest. Elrond had caught his gaze then, communicating all his worries with it. Still confused, the golden-haired warrior had been about to demand again, what had happened, when a voice from behind him interrupted, "This is why we called you here so quickly," the deep voice of the king was deadly serious. "Captain Glorfindel, I know today was supposed to be a day of resting for you," the apology heavy in his voice, "but considering what has just transpired I feel it is necessary to send another patrol out, with you leading it, to investigate whatever it is that has found its way near our city."

Glorfindel full heartedly agreed with the king, but that did not mean he had not felt a degree of resentment for whatever evil decided to play its' hand on this day. His foul mood and creeping weariness had kept him silent for a few moments, as if he ever had the heart to deny a request from those he served, especially when Gil-Galad looked so earnestly worried and apologetic.

"Of course," he had nodded, "I will prepare some officers and leave as soon as possible."

That was how, a mere hour later, he and a few quickly rounded up officers had found themselves in the woods surrounding the city, looking for any sign of the perpetrators of the previous attack. Finding the site of the incident had been easy enough, but trying to discern any clue as to who or what may have been the cause, was another story. The part about the shadows that moved of their own accord, deeply troubled Glorfindel, bringing back memories of beast and creatures that he thought had fallen in the same age as he. Some of the other officers he had been graced with started whispering stories of magic and of dark beings, returning from the days of old much like a certain elf of old had come ba-

Glorfindel groaned and closed his eyes against the morning light. He shook his head as he asked the Valar, why oh why had he been saddled with such young and impetuous officers, when he had been returned to Middle Earth for a supposedly greater purpose.

The sense of unease surged as an chill tickled the back of his neck, making him suddenly aware that someone, or something, was watching them. The golden-haired warrior immediately quieted his patrol and whirled in the direction he felt the disturbance. Upon closer inspection, the trees were indeed acting strange, keeping oddly to themselves in the presence of so many elves, when they normally would be beckoning and whispering for attention. They nevertheless swayed their branches inconspicuously in the breeze, giving off an air of an almost unperceived giddiness.

It all could have almost been normal, just the playful antics of the friendly woods, but Glorfindel knew best that it was when all seemed well, that most things went south.

"The trees are acting strange," a small statured green elf spoke in a confused tone, suddenly at the balrog-slayer's elbow, "they're whispering about some strange elf that has been speaking with them, but they will not answer my questions when I asked for more." That both confused and alerted the blond, because another elf would have no need to hide themselves when visiting the realm, unless of course, their intentions were no good.

Glorfindel turned his keen gaze towards the trees the other elf was looking in and scanned the branches, thoroughly combing through the foliage. Moments passed in eerie silence, when suddenly, there among the thick branches of the towering trees, he spotted a subtle flash against the leaves. In a blur, Glorfindel had his sword drawn, immediately alerting his officers to do the same. "Bring yourself forth!" his voice broke through the silence in the woods, and he watched keenly as movement came from the leaves. It was subtle, just like his first glimpse had been, something he would have missed if he hadn't been so focused. Nothing but silence greeted him, and Glorfindel indicated to his officers to slowly approach with him, flanking him as they neared the occupied tree.

"Whoever goes there," he started, keeping his voice steady and commanding, "be aware that you now stand within the land of Lindon, and are therefore obliged to present yourself to the King, or be forced to do so."

In the silence that followed, tension seeped in from the officers, and Glorfindel himself could sense the being in the trees holding still with apprehension. The quiet of the moment was broken when the figure took off, rushing through the branches with more speed than the blond elf anticipated.

The balrog-slayer took off after the figure with own surprising speed, hearing his officers' startled yells and rushed footfalls as they followed as well. The green elf that had alerted him to the other's presence was in the trees in a flash, with a cry of "Ech- hon dant-!" (let him fall - sindarin)

The plea riled the trees and they effectively loosened their branches and allowed their precious 'strange elf' to be dropped to the ground. Despite their cooperation though, and judging from the sheer excitement that the giggling trees were exuding, Glorfindel had a sneaking suspicion that they had purposefully allowed the elf a gentle fall that let them to easily continue their escape. The targeted elf was fast, faster on the ground than Glorfindel himself. Unacceptable, his mind supplied, and the blond urged his legs to push on faster, soon outpacing the officers that followed.

Keeping all his attention focused on following the quickly disappearing figure, Glorfindel pushed himself hard and fast through the trees, pursuing what he could only rationalize, was the culprit to this whole mess. The thought had just crossed the blond warrior's mind when the figure before him veered suddenly to the left and disappeared behind a thick tangle of bushes and trees. The warrior cursed as he skidded sharply in that direction, rushing through the thicket and stopping short when he saw nothing before him.

Impossible! he thought, where could that blasted elf have gone?

There should have been at least an indication of which direction the other elf had gone in, but in no direction that he turned his head, did he find a single trace, and the trees held their silence. Glorfindel sent a mighty glare in the direction of those inconspicuous branches, and felt the trill of silent laughter trickle down from them. The damned woods were laughing at him and they were without a doubt aiding the fleeing elf, who was probably dashing away through those horrid branches.

The ancient warrior frowned, refusing to acknowledge the irksome trees that called to him in honey-voiced distraction. He turned in a circle before stomping away in a particularly inviting direction, shocked at how he had been outdone by some random, mysterious wood elf who had apparently decided to make Lindon the target of their terror. He had gone but a few minutes in his chosen direction when, yet again, he felt the familiar chill at his back.

This time, the blond elf didn't react so suddenly, but continued forward, his back to the one watching him. At the same time, Glorfindel stretched out his senses, feeling out the presence of the other elf, who, although well concealed, stood out amongst the trees. The blond moved a few more paces before he bent down as if to examine the ground. He collected a decently sized rock and concealed it in his palm as he straightened, making a show of checking the woods before moving on. He walked on, no longer paying attention to where he was going but rather keeping his attention to the presence behind him. The blond elf made it a ways from the lurking one before he sensed movement from behind. In that instant Glorfindel whirled and launched his rock into the branches.

He was rewarded with a startled yelp and snapping sounds as the pegged elf tumbled out of the tree. The elf landed with a muffled curse and Glorfindel was upon the offending creature within seconds, "Stay down if you know what's good for you," he warned as he drew his sword. The elf on the ground froze halfway through pushing himself up, staring wildly at the blade now level with his face.

"Good," the blond elf started, "now that I have your attention, tell me- what is a wood elf doing terrorizing citizens of Lindon?" He watched as the other elf frowned, dark brows furrowing and eyes flashing from the sword to his face. The look the elf gave Glorfindel, almost made the tall warrior feel ridiculous for asking such a question.

"I'm not a wood elf."

It was Glorfindel's turn to frown, hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. He shook his head, "That's not the important part," he forced himself to lower the sword, lest his already frayed nerves drive him to true violence, "what are you doing here?"

The elf blinked at him, eyes fixed on his, before shrugging, "I'm just looking for my brother." The tone indicated some try at nonchalance, but really? from his position from the ground, the elf had no right to act as such.

"Oh really?" Glorfindel gave the elf an exaggerated look, "so you wouldn't mind coming with me to report your presence to the king." Something flashed in the elf's face, his eyes darting away from Glorfindel's and then back. "Oh," he said, holding the warrior's gaze and slowly pushing himself to his feet. Glorfindel allowed this, giving the elf some semblance of a choice.

"Perhaps I should just leave," the elf said quickly, "no need to alert your king of my presence, I was not aware I was already in Lindon." That wouldn't do, there was no elf within these lands that was not aware of Lindon's borders. The ancient warrior raised a golden brow, "It is necessary, especially since someone attacked a patrol this morning."

The elf gave him and incredulous look, "I had nothing to do with that."

Glorfindel looked into the elf's eyes, "But you are aware of the fact that it happened." It was obvious that the elf knew about the attack, no surprise in his countenance to indicate otherwise. The elf stared at him, "the trees here are quite chatty, they told me all about it."

The balrog-slayer took a step forward, "clearly, you're lying." The elf froze again, holding himself still at the tall warrior's approach "I'll ask again, what are you doing out here?" Glorfindel asked in a voice he knew commanded authority. The elf in front of him took an instinctive step back, his body going rigid. Something flashed across the elf's face before he quickly composed himself and he took on a cool blank look. The elf clenched his hands and raised his chin. "I told you, I'm looking for my brother." The tone was icy this time.

The blond stared at the other elf, carefully noting the half concealed hilt at his hip and the defensive stance he had subtly adopted. The elf stared right back, defiance playing across his features.

"What is your name?" Glorfindel demanded, in the same stern voice he had used before. The elf just stared at him silently, giving the slightest tilt of his head. The action reminding the balrog-slayer of the ravens that were often found on high walls and perches in Lindon; those beady-eyed, bothersome creatures that squawked at squawked at random, and watched in eerie silence at all other times.

Glorfindel crossed his arms and could have rolled his eyes at the other's prolonged quiet. "Silence," he drawled, "a great answer, and surely one that will pass well in front of the king's court." That earned him a cold glare and an even icier refusal to speak. The blond shook his head, he was not looking forward to having to explain today's events when he reported to the king later on. And even thinking about having to be present when the elf was questioned in court was enough to remind the blond of the headache he had been staving off. When he had told the king that he would investigate who or what had attacked his patrol squad, he was not aware that he was going to be dealing with such a impetuous imp of an elf, and not a horde of bandits or hostile orcs. Somehow, Glorfindel would almost have preferred the foul creatures of the dark lord, for at least those were straightforward and easy to take care of.

"Have you suddenly gone mute, or did my rock hit you harder than anticipated?"

That got him the twitch of a brow and the pursing of lips, but no other response. The golden-haired warrior huffed and dropped his arms to his sides. His dark mood from earlier certainly not helped by these events. He reigned in his temper, and tried a different approach.

"Well," he spoke through clenched teeth, "my name is Glorfindel," he gestured to himself, "now what's yours? It's only a courtesy for you to tell me now." There was a flicker of annoyance across the elf's face which then turned into a visible eye-roll.

"Well, Glorfindel," the elf started lowly, "my name is non-of your concern and I don't have time for your overbearing presence." With that the dark haired ellon spun on his heel and made for the trees.

Glorfindel stared for a moment, shocked at the blatant display of disrespect, before shaking himself and moving swiftly to bring himself to block the elf's path.

"Oh no, no, we're not done." He crowded into the other elf's space, forcing him to back track with a frustrated growl. Dark eyes cut up sharply towards the blond, "What is your problem?" he hissed.

Glorfindel glared back, "my problem?" the nerve of this elf!

"Well, since you asked so kindly," Glorfindel continued, "my problem is that I have been sent out here to deal with a disturbance in King Gil-Galad's land, and instead of finding any real issues, I find that it is you, an impertinent little elf that, judging from the looks of you, brings more trouble than he's worth." The blond felt himself bristle at each word, though kept a safe distance between himself and the other, not wanting to provoke a fight.

"I can assure you, Lord Glorfindel," the polite voice somehow managed to make the name and title sound like an insult, "I mean no harm to you or anyone else in this forest. I'm just looking for my brother, as I've told you." He held the golden elf's eyes, both as a way to convey his truth and a challenge to the other to not believe him. Glorfindel made sure to keep his hands clear of his sword, trying to display his intention to keep this interaction peaceful.

"As much as I would love to take your word for it," the smaller elf narrowed his eyes at the notable sarcasm, "it would hardly be prudent for me to do so. Plus, I gave my word to the king and his people that I would rid this forest of the trouble that plagues it."

The dark-haired elf's shoulders tensed, and Glorfindel watched as his face turn into an unhappy frown. The golden warrior was caught between petty triumph and exasperation, his control thrown out of sorts by the equally mercurial elf. The infuriating being glared heatedly at the taller elf, crossing his arms and raising a dark brow. Glorfindel swept his arm out, gesturing openly towards the elf,

"So, you can come willingly like the good elf you claim to be," Glorfindel tilted his head, trying to maintain some semblance of his famous patience, which was waning now at an alarming pace. "Or I'll have to find some other way to get you to come with me." He wasn't normally so curt, but Glorfindel was on edge and he just wanted to get this all over with.

The elf in question merely scoffed at the warrior's request, sending him a glare worthy of an orc.

"Why would I ever agree to that?"

Glorfindel grit his teeth, his agitation growing, "Well, let's see, you're a lone elf wandering around here, just 'looking for your brother,' you say, but," he emphasized the word, "you are armed and it is obvious by your persistent refusal to share your true intentions, that there is more to your story here." The flash of surprise in the other's eyes was confirmation enough, "Yes, I see that I am right. So do you care to tell me what you are really doing out here?" The elf's frown continued to deepen, his glare intensifying.

"Still refusing to cooperate?" Glorfindel continued agitatedly, "alright then, let me go on; I have a group of injured patrol officers that have told me something in these woods attacked them, something none of them could describe. And while I don't particularly think you could have done that," the dark eyes narrowed again, "I don't doubt it for a moment that you being here at the same time is merely a coincidence."

The elf in front of him inclined his head ever so slightly, "That is a hefty list, did you come up with all of those on your own?"

The golden warrior sighed, having known already that his words would have little affect. "You just couldn't make this easy, could you?" he spoke resignedly to himself.

The elf, clearly reading the meaning behind the words, shifted his weight, a precise and miniscule movement. But Glorfindel caught it, his keen eyes and senses far too honed to miss such a thing. He placed his hand back on the hilt of his sword, the movement not lost on the dark-haired elf, who kept his eyes firmly on the blond, "Easy for you or for me?"

Glorfindel felt the tension rise like a living thing. The forest suddenly felt colder, the trees stilling at the threat of a fight, all mirth leaving them in an instance. He shook his head, "listen, I'm not looking for a fight, I'm just trying to get to the bottom of what's been happening lately."

"I already told you, I have nothing to do with those things." The dark-haired elf spoke tersely, "I'm not going to Lindon and I'm certainly not speaking with your king."

Glorfindel bristled, a tense smile stretching his lips as he all but bared his teeth, "Fine then," he clenched his hands, "have it your way." With a sudden speed, he lunged at his opponent. The dark-haired elf darted out of the way, faster than Glorfindel had anticipated, but though the move was quick, it was not unexpected, and the seasoned warrior was ready. He stepped in the direction of the other elf's lunge.

Surprise flooded the golden warrior as he blocked a well aimed strike from his opponent and then another that came from a lower angle. This elf was much faster than he appeared, having drawn two long daggers in so short amount of time. Glorfindel was alarmed that he had only noticed the one weapon during his interaction with the elf, and the fact that the other had managed to draw both in such a quick moment did not bode well.

The elf twirled the blades and made to slash at Glorfindel again. The balrog-slayer deflected and swung his own sword, the metal arching through the air and forcing the other elf back. Seeing the glinting dark eyes spurred Glorfindel, and the golden-haired warrior lunged again, but the elf moved into the blow. He caught the blade with his own, stopping it abruptly and using the moment to plant a swift kick to Glorfindel's stomach. The blow sent the warrior back a few paces, but Glorfindel quickly found his footing and turned, anticipating his opponent's next attack and moving to meet it.

His sword rung as it slid against a steadily aimed dagger, light vibrations running through his arm. With a flick of his wrist and turn of his weapon, the balrog-slayer smirked as he felt the offending dagger fly from his opponent's hand.

Hearing a hissed curse, the blond moved quickly, pulling his arm back and this time managing to drive his fist solidly into the elf's stomach. The choked grunted was followed by an indignant yelp as Glorfindel lunged at the winded elf. Though he tried to spring away, the smaller elf was yanked backwards by a large hand twisted into the back of his tunic.

The balrog-slayer swiftly pulled the elf close, wrapping one arm around him, successfully pinning his arms to his sides while his other hand reached to pry the remaining dagger from his hand. "This could have gone easier," he said off-handedly, catching the wrist that held the weapon, having narrowly avoided a wild stab, "but you didn't want to behave."

"Let go!" the captured elf growled, twisting in the blond elf's hold, surprisingly strong, but still unable to break the hold. Glorfindel, for his part, was increasingly annoyed, "If you would just calm down-"

The elf in his hold suddenly stopped his squirming, slumping heavily against the restraining arm. The sudden change almost unbalanced the balrog-slayer, his mind a flurry of confusion, "wha-" but as quickly as the elf had gone limp, he sprung back, using the distraction and his captor's lapse to his advantage. He twisted his arms free, elbowed the Glorfindel in the face and lunged out of the loosened hold.

Surprise flooded his mind and pain flared in his cheek as the blond elf watched the dark-haired elf stagger away trying catch his breath. He glared at the ancient warrior distrustfully, backing up a few steps when Glorfindel made to move closer. The golden-haired warrior watched the elf warily, and he wondered briefly if it was even worth the hassle to try to restrain him again.

Watching as the elf's eyes flicked over his discarded weapons, Glorfindel was reminded at the danger that this combative elf could pose, if he had not already, to the patrolling elves and wandering citizens of Lindon. The returned warrior had made a vow to protect those he could, in any way he could, and that included dealing with wild, infuriating elves. With his strengthened resolve, Glorfindel raised his sword and charged at his quarry.

The elf's eyes widened at the sudden change but instead of springing away as the blond warrior had expected, the elf only seemed to brace himself, perhaps sensing that he would not make it out of reach in time-

Glorfindel's mind whirled and came to a sudden stop when in a flash, he found himself laid flat on his back, staring in disbelief at the dancing branches and clear sky directly above him. What in the world!?

He had no memory of falling, and he was fairly certain he had not lost consciousness and yet, there he was sprawled out on the forest floor. How? The blond warrior swiftly got to his feet, scanning the clearing with a critical eye and realized with a mounting ire that the other elf was nowhere to be seen. Even the other's weapons had been scooped up and taken, no sign indicating where the other elf had taken off.

Glorfindel swore, the curse rolling off his tongue in Quenya as he turned around the clearing in search for a sign of where the elf had gone. The blond berated himself for underestimating him, he had always taught his junior officers to fight with their advantages, and he had often been used as practice when teaching how to defend against larger opponents. He was familiar with this move, and that made him all the more angry.

He swept the woods once more, but the trees were ever against him, their branches still in the wake of Glorfindel's glare. The elf shoved down his mounting ire and forced his keen eyes to pick out the most recently disturbed path. Trusting his instincts more than thought, the re-born warrior took off in that direction, hoping that his moment of inaction didn't give the other elf that much of a head-start.


Not much in terms of an intro, but I found it incredibly hard to be happy with how any version of this first part. More to come, most likely with horribly inconsistent updates. Please bare with me! Again let me know what you think. I would explain myself, but I want to do that through the story, so if you have any really pressing questions, do ask.

Alrighty, thanks for reading & review.