Disclaimer: I do not own any of Tolkien's work and I just borrowed some of the professor's characters. The plot, however, and those characters you do not recognize from Tolkien's work, belong to me

Please read 'The Cartographer of Greenwood' before you read this. This story will be a short ff of about maybe 25 000 - 35 000 words. Long pauses between updates are possible even though I will attempt to keep them short.

For those of you who read 'War of Elves': It takes place between chapters 2 and 3. I am still working on 'War of Elves' and have not abandoned the story. I hope writing this will help me get back into writing and figure out where I got stuck.


Long gras whispered in the soft wind wafting through its long halms. Small, unremarkable flowers adored some tips, opening in the warming day of beginning summer. In the midst of the green sea, a dry road crossing lay silent underneath the wide sky. A salamander sunning in the early warmth quickly scurried away when soft steps grew closer. Sand crunched under leather soles of a tall figure.

To call the elf approaching thin would have been an understatement. No, the tall figure was gaunt. Long hair caught the sunlight, reflecting it like polished silver, almost like translucent mist, carried by the soft wisps of wind. The elf was clad in worn clothes, threadbare and indistinguishable in colour. Had the many tears not been held together by even, precise stitches, the shirt hanging off from narrow shoulders would be barely more than rags. Stains of dried blood discoloured the washed cloth, forever ingrained. The boots were almost falling into pieces as well, despite the improvised stitches along the seams. Two battered leather tubes were slung over the stranger's back and only the weapons by his side showed no sign of wear. And yet, despite his appearance, a soft tune danced over the elf's lips, a tune intermingling with the natural sounds around him.

Soread, the lonely cartographer who set out from the distant vastness of Greenwood the Great so many years ago, slowed his steps until he came to a halt, standing in the exact center of the road crossing. The soft tune died from his lips as the keen eyes looked around. Years had passed since he had last stood at this very place, contemplating which way to turn. Before him, towards the east, a blue mountain range stood proud and tall, clad in green woods and bare rock, its many heads covered under white bonnets of icy snow, shining in the spring sun.

To his left, the road leading north, Soread knew Imladris, the Last Homely House, home to Lord Elrond. This was where he had come from the last time he had stood at this place. Twenty-four years had passed since, twenty-four years since he last exchanged a word with another elf.

"Ai, my Lord, had I just heeded your advice," Soread whispered, a shadow falling to his bright eyes as he looked down that path towards the forest.

Birds thrilled while the wood elf just stood still, contemplating once more which way he should turn to. Though he now wished he had heeded the elf Lord's advice and returned home, he once again found himself incapable of following that advice. Once more he stood here, torn. Closing his eyes, the tired elf listened to the song of his heart. He dreaded going home, still did. Instead, returning to the safety of Imladris, to the pure beauty and the generous welcome of Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian struck cords within him. Yearning to feel that welcome, to receive the attention the beautiful couple had so amply bestowed upon him once again. He did not trust the Noldor fully, could not after what he knew about past interactions between them and the Royal Family of Greenwood, yet there was no denying that they had been gracious towards him, a lowly cartographer set out to follow his desires and escape his fears.

It was his aching stomach that tilted his final decision towards the northern path. Growling viciously, it reminded Soread of how little he had eaten and how his hosts had offered him food and shelter at his last visit. Feeling guilty for returning to take advantage of this offer, Soread still could not help but hope he would receive it again, feeling certain in the assumption upon thinking of Lady Celebrian's shock about his narrow frame. And so, with growling stomach and swift, sure feet and a guilty mind, Soread turned north. A smile adored his young face once he walked down that path, looking forward to see Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian and the feeling of safety that had been stripped from him in the last years.

The trees were the first to greet him, recognizing him before he even stepped under their boughs. Their memories were ancient and they watched over the elves travelling through the woods. Too many elves for them to recall individually. But Silvan elves did not often venture into their shadows and Soread spoke freely and joyously to them. They remembered him clearly, the time passed since their last encounter irrelevant, a small period of time compared to their ancient roots. And so their deep rumbling voices echoed in his ears. Closing his eyes, the cartographer walked blindly, guided only by his friends. Rustling leaves accompanied his path.

As the miles melt away with each passing hour, a slight stiffness growing more pronounced with each passing milestone, the sun rose high into the sky. Sunlit patches adored the forest floor and the new leaves glowed with an intense green that touched the wood elf's heart deeper than all treasures of gold and germs ever could. It was just after the bright ball hanging high in the cloudless sky began to sink once more, that the trees spoke to Soread, bearing a message unlike the others before: "There are elves ahead, mellon-nin. They are from Imladris and often travel here. If you go to them, we are certain they will lend you one of their riding animals. You are exhausted, mellon, and we want you to rest in peace."

Their voices caused Soread to stop. Standing still, pressing his right arm slightly against his side, he tilted his head. The trees reassured him the elves were friends and that they would aid him, yet the cartographer just stood there. He wasn't sure if he wanted to speak with them. Dread filled his heart for no reason and Soread had to fight against it. Slowly, his hesitancy in crass contrast to his prior swiftness, the elf from Greenwood followed the trees' gentle probing and walked towards the group of Noldor.

The elves the trees had been referring to belonged to a hunting group, headed by the fabled balrog slayer Glorfindel of Gondolin. They had only stopped for a small break. Already they were moving around the small camp once more, saddling their proud stallions. Musical laughter rang through the air, jokes thrown around between friends and old comrades.

They did not notice the wood elf carefully approaching. For several seconds the cartographer stood leaning against a tree trunk, watching, soaking up the words spoken in a language he had not heard besides in rare soliloquies for many years. Sindarin was not his language of choice when indulging in conversations with himself. Silver eyes flittered over everyone present. The cartographer noticed the hunters' weapons, took note of their light armour and hunting garb, the sharp tips of spears leaning against trees further down. They had not been hunting for food, that much was clear. Yet their clothing was perfectly clean, no blood smeared upon the steel plates or staining the leather and fabric, no injuries speaking of battle.

His presence still unnoticed, Soread stayed still for several minutes. Only once the first elves started to mount their horses did he step forward. His lips quirked slightly because still his presence went unnoticed, even though he now stood not five meters away from them.

"Excuse me, my Lords," he raised his voice, his Sindarin accented after such long misuse.

Glorfindel twisted around, flinching at the sudden new voice. Instinctively, his hand moved towards the sword. He froze once his keen eyes settled on the unexpected intruder and then he relaxed slightly, allowing his hand to fall to his side. It was an elf. The balrog slayer's eyes narrowed and his thighs pressed against the flanks of his proud steed. The horse pranced around so that Glorfindel could face the strange elf without having to twist.

"Are you injured?" Was the first question to leave his lips even as his blue eyes searched the emaciated form of the other elf. The bright silver-blond hair had him frown, so did the silver eyes. No Noldo, that much was obvious, yet his Sindarin sounded too strange for him to be a Sinda either. An elf from Greenwood then, Glorfindel realised, though the clothing would not fit that ethnicity.

"I am," the elf admitted with a soft smile as he bowed his head. The warrior high up on the back of his mount felt his heart skip a beat inside his chest, a shiver running down his back upon seeing the soft smile. With one fluid motion, he swung his leg over the animal's neck and slid down. But the other elf, now on eyelevel, continued: "Your concern honours you, my Lord, but my wounds shall be fine until Lord Elrond can take a look at them."

"Let me see," Glorfindel demanded, stepping closer. The strange elf sidestepped him with elegance, the smile still on his lips.

"I'd rather not, my Lord," the elf replied once the Noldo had frozen in surprise. "I trust Lord Elrond to take care of it once I reach Imladris."

A frown marred Glorfindel's brow. But at the same time, the elf before him met his eyes, fidgeting ever so slightly. Scanning him from head to toe, the Chieftain of Lord Elrond's forces took in the strong posture. Despite the thin frame, the foreign elf looked far from frail.

"If you are quite sure," the leader of the Noldorian patrol spoke reluctantly. He could not force his aid upon the other, not until it looked like there was no other way.

"I am, my Lord." The elf bowed again, the soft smile still on his lips, never leaving.

"You know Lord Elrond?"

"Our paths have crossed before, my Lord."

Hesitantly turning, not letting the injured one out of his sight, Glorfindel asked: "What is your name?"

"I am Soread, my Lord."

Glorfindel had to admit, this constant 'my Lord' was starting to grate on him. The Noldor did not usually call him that, at very least not with every sentence they spoke directed to him.

"Can you ride?"

"Yes, my Lord."

The older elf signalled to one of his companions to hand him the reigns of his horse. Quickly informing the hunting party that he'd accompany the foreign elf to Imladris, he then mounted his horse once more, waiting until Soread had done the same. The wood elf pressed his arm against his side as he swung upon the horse's back, sighing soundlessly once he could take his weight off his right leg. Letting neither his relief nor the discomfort of his almost healed wounds show, the cartographer subconsciously checked if the two tubes were still securely held on his back by his chest belt. Feeling the second belt buckle over his chest, he knew his daggers in place as well. His hands then fell to his sides, checking on his long knives.

The trees continued to whisper to him, encouraging his choice to return to Imladris even though the mapper himself already felt uncertainty creep up his spine with long icy fingers. Instead of focusing on his doubts, the wood elf decided to enjoy the beauty of the forest around him. It was young compared to Greenwood and Soread quickly steered his thoughts into a different direction, unwilling to think of his long abandoned home right now.

The light danced in bright spots over the forest floor, covered in thick leaves of the autumn passed, buried under snow for the winter and only now starting to disintegrate. The horses' hooves sounded muted against the thick resilient layer. Prancing in gentle rhythm, they would reach their destination quickly without exhausting the horses. Soread remembered the area well even though he had never actually mapped it. A storm had driven him to Imladris in a hurry at his last visit, advice he had hoped to heed had driven him away almost just as quick, only for the advice to be forsaken once he had actually stood before the road crossing. He had never taken the time to scout and draw the area surrounding Imladris' itself, instead now having seen all of Eriandor.

The day passed quickly. Soon they left the forest, Glorfindel leading him down the valley. From down there, the wood elf could see the narrow path hugging the cliffside to his right, the path he had taken the last time.

Trusting the balrog slayer's guidance left Soread to let his mind wander. His stomach was clenching painfully in his abdomen and he pulled out a few young leaves from the small bag attached to his chest belt. Putting them into his mouth, he began chewing, ignoring the bitter taste that spread quickly across his tongue.

The sun was still high in the sky when the breath-taking city came into few. The sound of falling water intermingled with birds' song, rushing in a constant, calming stream down the mountain face, flowing around the archways, bridges, houses, free places and towers of the city of Imladris.

The way leading up the hill was steep, long slopes cut into the end of the valley. No horns sounded, no bells announced their coming. Only a guard stepped aside once they approached, signalling them to ride straight through the open gate. Imladris was welcoming to everyone.

Here, Soread knew his way around. He had mapped this city, adding it as a small picture to the maps he had gifted Lord Elrond when he had left. The greenwood elf led his horse towards the large house of Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian, riding past the grand house of healing and the guest house and onto the courtyard. Swiftly glancing towards the narrow bridge leading to the narrow path hugging the rockface, Soread let the reigns loose. Petting the white horse's neck, he smiled.

Soread felt his heart blossom as he dismounted the steed. Just a few meters ahead, three steps led up to the large entrance doors, standing wide open and allowing the spring breeze into the Entrance Hall. The courtyard itself was covered with coarse sand but the gardens opened just behind it. Large trees spend shadow further in, curved metal archs acting as beautiful stakes for full roses in vibrant hues of red, yellow, white. The smell of their open flowers was light in the air, not oppressive yet always present. Birds were singing loudly, chirping in the trees. And in the flower beds, small buds were beginning to open, stretching the petals hidden inside.

Gently brushing through his mount's mane, Soread stepped past the stallion. He had known Imladris was beautiful, but the beauty of spring still took his breath, so unlike the impressive resilience the city had shown during the autumn storms.

He saw Glorfindel dismount as well, handing the horses' reins to the equerry who had casually walked over with a spring in his step.

Allowing his gaze to wander over the sunlit façade of the main house, the sudden urge to draw took a hold of the cartographer. A bird started singing and Soread's eyes started searching for the small being – Soread was certain it had to be a goldfinch. Instead of finding the bird nestled in the tops of a tree, the young traveller found his attention drawn to something else. There, in the gardens, the beautiful Lady of Imladris, Celebrian, gentle yet strong, Lady of Imladris and wife to Lord Elrond Peredhil, knelt before one of the flower beds, tending the plants. Soread's smile grew wider, his eyes lighting up with true joy. He walked towards the archway to the garden, stopping just outside.

"My fair Lady!" He called and Celebrian raised her head. She looked up and down before she spotted Soread standing beyond the archway. For one moment, their eyes met and the cartographer's smile turned into an amused grin which some would describe as feral. He raised his hand towards his chest, bowing his head in deep respect. "Forgive my intrusion into your home, my Lady. I hope I have not –"

"Soread?" Celebrian interrupted his polite words. Uncertainty rang in her voice, but not even a second later, the beautiful she-elf jumped to her feet. "Soread!" She smiled as brightly as the sun, her hair floating behind her as she now raced towards him, joyous as if she were a little girl.

"Oh Soread! It really is you!" She only stopped for one moment to look him up and down, a frown already finding its way back on her face still dominated by her open smile. Then, she embraced him. She felt the younger elf stiffen under her touch, felt him draw back ever so slightly before he froze completely. For several seconds she held on before drawing back.

"It is so good to see you, Soread! I am glad you came back!" The younger elf once more bowed his head, his eyes moist. He breathing suddenly sounded a bit choked. Celebrian felt her heart ache for the young mapper, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder. The bones stood out harshly underneath the thin layer of washed-out fabric.

"It is good to see you," she repeated her earlier sentiment, this time more softly. No words left her lips concerning the state of her young guest, even though her eyes took in the stitches in his clothing, the ragged tears, the washed-out colour. It was the shirt they had provided the cartographer with at his last visit. Twenty-four years ago.

"Let us go to the kitchens, you must be hungry." As if to confirm her suggestion, Soread's stomach growled loudly. The elf quickly pressed a hand against his abdomen as if that could suppress the sound.

"I … thank you, my Lady. Thank you." Soread's guilt returned tenfold. At the same time, he felt so safe like he had not in a long time. It was as if a weight he had not known he burdened was unexpectedly lifted from his shoulders, leaving him shaking with exhaustion. The tiredness rushed over him so suddenly that he stumbled, Lady Celebrian grasping his arm.

"Soread?" She inquired gently and the wood elf felt even worse.

"Please, my Lady, do not worry. I will be fine."

"But you are not right now. My dear friend, we told you our home is always open to you."

Soread smiled. "I remember your kindness all too clearly, my Lady. Had you not invited me back, I would never have dared to return here. I do not wish to be a burden to you."


Please review!

A big thank you to my beta(s) SamGreg!