7 Years had passed since the Last Alliance had departed from Rivendell. In that time, Lindir was put under the protective watch of Erestor. He taught Lindir the importance of literature, and the necessary role of being the assistant of a great Lord. Lindir also took it upon himself to learn how to play the flute given to him by Elrond. Within a few year's time, Lindir had mastered the instrument, much to the suprise and liking of Erestor. The songs he produced out of the instrument was filled with the longing to see his parents and friends again.
Lindir also began to find facination upon learning about the Valar. For every night, he would stand outside and pray upon the light of Earendil's star. He would pray for the safe return, or for their spirits to dwell happily in the halls of Mandos. He also sought out comfort in Elrond's bed, for he slept there every night. He would curl up against the pillow and breathe in the scent which had long since faded.
He grew taller and wiser, turning into a very young, yet very mature adult. The whole time he took Gil-Galad into example, and wore his hair the same way the mighty king would. The days went by uneventful, with the only thing keeping Lindir busy was the music he would write. First he wrote a song about the triumphs of Gil-Galad. Once that song was established, he wrote about the great and powerful warrior Glofindel. Last, he wrote a song about the wise and darkly beautiful Lord Elrond. The years went by fast, but each waking moment left Lindir in anticipation. But one day, Lindir was composing a new piece of music for Erestor when said assistant ran into the room exhasperated and panting. For in his hand he held a letter from Greenwood inviting them to welcome home all of the soldiers, for the war had ended in victory. Lindir couldn't help but grasp Erestor into a tight embrace and sing songs of victory. The two of them immediantly packed and left the next day.
They stayed in Greenwood in the company of Legolas, the prince of the Greenwood. For the prince was very much like his father, in appearences and behavior alike. Although Lindir missed the warmth of Elrond's bed, he took comfort in sharing the same room as Legolas, who had gew very fond of the elf. Months went by, as they waited for the return of the warriors from Mordor. And throughout this whole time period, Lindir was plagued by nightmares. They were mostly repeated, showing the same horrendous scene for nights in a row. One nightmare in particular was morbid. It portrayed the slaying of Elrond and Gil-Galad from the hands of Sauron himself. The dream always began with the two rulers engaged in furious combat, never leaving the other's side. Then each time, Sauron would thrust a spear through Elrond's chest, and grab ahold of Gil's throat, burning away at the tender skin of his arms and legs until nothing was left but ashy remenants. Lindir would wake up screaming, and would be quited by the prince, who took to heart the night terrors, for he was experiancing them himself. But Legolas was instead plagued by images about the death of his dear father.
But after four months after arriving in the Greenwood, while in the middle of teaching Legolas how to play the harp, a renowned and welcoming elven horn echoed all throughout the forest, shaking the palace of Thranduil. Legolas and Lindir froze in the blink of an eye, then darted outside, catching a very suprised Erestor on the way out. Standing underneath the trees of the forest, the light footsteps of elves could be heard. Clinging to Erestor the same way he did 7 years ago, Lindir watched trembling as the remenants of the elven army could be seen on the horizon. They approached slowly and solemnly, the whole time he squeezed Legolas's hand to keep himself from passing out.
The army proudly held up flags in victory as they began to march through the forest. The eyes of the soldier's were filled with relief, but also an unexpected sadness. Their faces were tired, but their shoulders were still held high. Yes, they had won. But at what cost?
"Ada!" Yelped Legolas when he layed eyes on the towering form of his father, King Thranduil. He ran toward his Ada, and as if he were an elfling, he threw himself on the king, tackling him to the ground. The normally stoic king laughed hysterically while Legolas smothered him with fleeting kisses to his face and hair, and tightening his hands around the long, golden pool of Thranduil's hair.
"Legolas. Ion nin. I missed you." Whispered the King as he pulled Legolas into an embrace, although he was still pinned underneath the lesser body of his son. Legolas curled up into the contact, laying on the forest floor, as elves warmly watched the reunion of Ada and Ion.
"I missed you too Ada." Replied Legolas, helping his father back on his feet, and brushing the leaves from his previously pristine robes.
Lindir watched the scene with a sad smile, which Legolas quickly registered. Dragging his Ada to where Lindir and Erestor stood, he introduced the king to his new friends. "Ada, this is Erestor, Elrond's accountant and dear friend, and Lindir, apprentace of Rivendell. I hope you don't mind, but I invited them to stay in Greenwood to wait for your return."
Thranduil shook his head, and smiled warmly at his guests. "Not at all. It's a pleasure to meet you both. May I ask who are you looking for?" Asked the King, seeing the hopeful look on their faces.
Lindir timidly stepped forward and bowed gratefully. "Yes, my King. I am looking for Erenion Gil-Galad and Lord Elrond, as well as my parents."
At those words, the Elven-King's gaze dropped and he visably tensed. Seeing the King's composure drop so rapidly, Lindir closed his eyes, knowing something happened. The realization hit him like an orc's sword to the gut. He felt tears begin to well in his eyes. Thoughts flooded his mind, and he felt his blood turn into lava, scorching his heart. Bringing his hand up to his mouth, Lindir bit his fist in fear of screaming. He didn't want to ask, for he didn't want to know the answer.
His throat constricted and finally he weakly croaked out "Which one fell? Or was it both?"
Thranduil looked at the young minstrel with sympathy in his tired and relieved eyed before reaching into his pocket and placing a small tattered cloth in Lindir's hands. He held up the fabric, and looked at the faded woven patterns. It was a light blue color, with the sign of the Noldor embroided in a pale gold. The design was clear and very familiar to Lindir. It was the flag of Gil-Galad. He felt his stomach drop, and his heart stopped as he fell to his knees and sobbed terribly. He cried into the flag, feeling his body shake in terror and pain. Guilt ate away at his soul when he realized he was also crying out of relief, because it was Gil and not Elrond who had fallen into shadow. Legolas kneeled next to the minsterel, and placed a hand on his trembling shoulder.
"I'm sorry Lindir." He whispered, knowing there wasn't much he could do to console his new friend. Lindir looked at him with red eyes, and nodded fondly. He then adverted his eyes to Thranduil's and almost inaudibly whispered "And Lord Elrond?" At that, a stange look enveloped Thranduil's face, and he smiled thinly, dropping his gaze until he met Erestor's face, seeing the distant and wandering eyes of the elf. They shared a long glance, but Erestor's dazed look betrayed the sadness he felt. Averting his eyes once more into Lindir's face, Thanduil nodded, motioning for him to get off the ground.
"Come with me. I will help you look for him." The King held out his hand, which Lindir gratefully took in his own to help the young minstrel from the ground. In his other hand, Thranduil clutched his son's shoulder, pressing one last kiss to his temple. The three of them went off to find Elrond.
Erestor however, had been completelly forgotten, as he surveyed the elves in search of his Glorfindel. Most of the elves around him had dark, lusterous hair compared to Glordindel's glistening blonde hair. The thought of the elven warrior caused Erestor's heart to flutter as he remembered the kiss they shared in the forest that day.
He weaved in and out of the growing crowd, and after hours of fruitless search, Erestor collapssed against a large tree. He felt his fears worsen, and his heart constrict. The sun was beginning to retreat below the horizon, and a soft orange glow was cast upon the forest. Erestor sobbed until he found it nigh impossible to breathe, and a choking sound is all that escaped his lips. He pulled his knees close up to his chest, and buried his face in his hands. His purple robes fanned out around his sulking frame, and his hair glistened in the darkening sky. He shook his head, not yet willing to accept the fate of his best friend and not-so-secret love.
A nearby elf noticed the sobbing of Erestor, and crouched down, placing a comforting hand upon his shoulder. Erestor flinched softly at the contact, but made no effort to move his head up to look. He whimpered instead, further hiding underneath the veil of his waist-long hair.
Then the elf spoke. "Tell me. Who are you looking for? Perhaps I could ease your pain." Erestor shifted softly, curling himself up into an even tighter ball. But he didn't resist the other elf, and instead reached out to gently touch the hand that rested on his shoulder.
"He is named Glorfindel." Whimpered Erestor. He felt the elf flinch at the intimate gesture, but squeezed Erestor's hand in silent understanded.
"Glorfindel of Rivendell you mean? Yes, I am aware of him. Come my dear Erestor. We shall find this Glorfindel of yours." The elf said, smiling gently, leaning closer to the elf tucked closley against the tree.
At the mention of his own name, Erestor's head snapped up, and made contact with the eyes that he was longing for. Those beautifuly familiar blue eyes. Glorfindel was crouched down in front of him, with a look of pure happiness reflected on his face. Erestor's eyes widened and yanked himself and Glorfindel up until they were standing up again. He breathed heavily, and looked into those same eyes. Then Erestor unexpectedly thrusted Glorfindel against the nearest tree, and peppered his lips with desperate and sweet kisses. He whimpered when Glorfindel threaded his fingers into his hair, and gently pulled back his head, exposing Erestor's neck. Glorfindel then gentley pressed his lips onto the pale skin of Erestor's jaw, and smiled when a tiny squeak came out of the assistant. Erestor then grabbed hold of Glorfindel's chin, and kissed him roughly, smiling when Glorfindel made a sound of suprise. When they seperated, the two elves simply stared one again into each other's eyes. Glorfindel pulled Erestor into a gentle embrace. And so they stood like that, clasping each other. No words were necessary.
In the meantime, Legolas, Thranduil, and Lindir searched the crowd for a certain Elf Lord. It was almost sundown when they layed eyes on their destination. There was Lord Elrond, standing with Gil-Galad's spear clamped tightly in his hand. He looked tired, and was covered in blood and dirt. His skin, which usually was a deep tan, was instead pale and dry.
"Elrond!" Yelled Thranduil, and waved his hands, motioning for him to come over. Panicing, Lindir threw himself behind the redicuously tell Elven-King, and watched hidden as Elrond approached, a small smile on his face. It was then that Lindir took in the desheveled appearence of his Lord. He had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing that appeared fatal. His hair was messy (he tried braiding it himself again), and his clothed were tattered. Blood ran down the side of his face, which had an expression of longing when he layed eyes upon the Elven-King clutching his son.
"Mellon nin." Said Elrond, placing his hand over his heart in greeting, offering a smile to Legolas, who nodded warmly. "What can I do for you?"
Thranduil leaned forward, hugging Elrond gently, as if he were afraid of further breaking him. Thranduil knew how close Elrond had been with Gil-Galad. And now he was gone, walking in the Halls of Mandos. Thranduil straightened his posture and spoke with a friendly smile.
"I have an elf here who says he wants to see you again." Thranduil smiled, and stepped out of the way, exposing Lindir, who froze upon making eye contact with his Lord. They stood like that for a moment, staring fondly into each other's eyes. Elrond smiled, when he saw how tall and mature Lindir had become. So he stepped forward, and pulled the elf into a relieving hug. Elrond pressed his face into Lindir's hair, and Lindir buried his own face into Elrond's chest. Lindir shivered at the missed contact, and grinned when he felt Elrond sigh and tighten his grip on Lindir.
"Lindir. It's good to see you again You've grown much." Smiled Elrond. Without replying, Lindir reached out and took Gil-Galad's staff into his own hands. He traced the metal, eyeing the elvish inscriptions. Elrond's expression turned to one of sadness, upon realization that Lindir had somehow found out the fate of Gil-Galad. But one thing Elrond promised to himself was that Lindir would never find out exactly how the King met his demise. For he died fighting against Sauron, and was lifted by the throat and burst asunder into flames. But Lindir never asked.
"And my parents?" Whispered Lindir, not taking his eyes off of the staff. Elrond closed his eyes. Guilt overwhelmed him. How would Lindir be able to live normally without his king and without his parents? That was when Elrond decided that he would take Lindir to be his personnal assistant. He would take care of the young minstrel and protect him from all harm.
"I'm sorry." Was all Elrond was able to say, as he replayed the moment in which he watched the slaying of both of them. They had died in each other's arms. Maybe Lindir would be comforted by that. But upon the news of losing his parents Lindir didn't cry. He couldn't. All of his tears had already been shed. This startled Elrond, and he began to question how close Lindir was to snapping.
"I'm just glad you're okay." Whispered Lindir, almost inaudibly. He refused to look at Elrond, and instead looked toward Thranduil and Legolas, who smiled with a small trace of pity for the two elves.
"Come." Spoke Thranduil, as he held Legolas's hand in his own. "You need a rest. Both of you." Lindir grabbed ahold of Elrond's arm, seeing that his Lord was truly exausted and physically weak.
Elrond nodded gratefully, and followed behind King and Prince, with Lindir clutching onto his side, a small smile on his lips. In the corner of his eye, Lindir watched the star of Earendil shining down upon his son. At that moment, Lindir closed his eyes and thanked the Valar.