by F.E.Morton
unbeta'd
italics thoughts
(elvish translation)
Disclaimer: just borrowing, the characters and settings are Tolkien's, the words here are mine. No money earned.
Summary: A look at what might happen if Legolas was just known as a messenger and not as Thranduil's son. The setting is just before the Council of Elrond. Features Glorfindel/Legolas pairing.
Note: My apologies for the delay; the holidays were more hectic than I thought they would be and I did not get any writing done on this story. Also, just finished catching up the chapters at the other site and then a 'glitch' caused two chapters, and all the review replies, to be deleted. I will try to redo them.
This chapter comes in two forms; this one and a more erotic version not suitable here. Check the other location if curious.
Also, though I am sure most folks know this stuff already, reference is made to the Star of Eärendil, the last Silmaril, and it is associated with Venus. This is not my idea, it is what Tolkien lore enthusiasts have determined through studying his letters and notes. The position of the Evening Star to the moon is accurate in the northern hemisphere for this time of the year, though I do not have a program written that calculates the phase of the moon the night before the Council of Elrond (If anybody does, let me know!) so the crescent is just my imagination. It was thus in 2004.
Finally, I know I promised the death ritual, but it seems to me now I had my logic reversed, for this situation with Erestor needs to be clarified before Glorfindel can participate in such an important activity.
Paenui Peth: Hin vi Tinnu (Part Ten: Eyes in the Twilight)
Galdor decided it was pointless to try and conceal the long hours Legolas had spent in his chambers, considering the news of it had probably already spread throughout the household, and led him to the main passage and down to the first floor. Cuthenin was a bit shaky on his feet due to the effects of the miruvor and Galdor kept a steadying hand upon the archer's elbow as they walked. Ironically, they encountered no one in the corridors and made the journey out the rear door without incident. Yet, though they did not meet anyone along the way, their progress was not unobserved.
Erestor's page, Lochgaer, had followed the emissary from Mithlond and the Wood Elf from the dining hall, on instructions from his Lord, and then stood vigil outside the elder's suite. Thus had he been so ready to hand when Galdor sought aid in acquiring wood for a fire in the hearth. Hidden in a shadowed alcove near the turning of the stairs, the aspiring diplomat had also learned of tea with the Hobbits and presently watched the two elves depart the chambers together a second time.
Lochgaer trailed them long enough to note the direction their exit would take, concluding correctly the destination was Glorfindel's abode, for Aragorn's efforts to make the lowly talan comfortable had not gone unremarked among the staff. Finally free of his task, the page hastened to make his report to Erestor and then share his evaluation of the messenger with his contemporaries.
Oblivious to this, Galdor and his ward proceeded through the grounds. Abruptly, Legolas halted and his immobility forced the noble Lord of the Tree to cease moving also. Paused in the herb garden between the kitchen and the main house, the Wood Elf stared in blatant delight at the uncovered expanse of menel, eyes reflecting the icy sparkle of the moon and the Evening Star.
The clouds had moved on without dropping their cargo of moisture upon the valley of the Bruinen and the last hints of Anor's rays had fled from the lower reaches of the welkin. The atmosphere shaded from a pale and hazy lavender hue into a deepening indigo near the zenith of the outer circle of Arda's boundary with the void.
Only the brightest points had yet appeared in the heavens but Ithil was already climbing the twilit dome of the evening sky and shone brilliantly, a mithril crescent shadowed by the Silmaril of Eärendil. Thinêl (Venus - Eärendil's Star) crowded close to the shimmering sickle, boldly poised in splendorous gleam, outshining every other jewel visible in the velvet veil of night.
"Tirion takes counsel with the Mariner," Legolas whispered, sharing a jubilant grin with his newly chosen Tirn'wador.
It seemed as an omen for him, a signal of the right choice he had made in permitting an outlander such an important role in his life. Just as Tirion often wandered on his course and needed Eärendil's guidance, so too would he require the sage advice of a Guardian in order to navigate the difficult path that lay ahead. "In Greenwood, it is rare to have such an uncluttered view of the sky. Tonight it will be filled with stars; I could look upon them for hours and not grow weary of the sight."
"Aye, this is a fine place to observe the beauty of Varda's gift to elfkind. Yet Imladris cannot boast the numbers visible from the beach. In Mithlond, menel seems to take up more of the space than the ground, for the sea remains dreary and restless through the dark hours. There is nothing to draw the eye away from contemplation of the numerous constellations. Many enjoy observing the stars while stretched out on the warm white sands of the falas (shore)."
"I would like to do that."
"Mayhap someday you shall. I would welcome you in my home."
Legolas allowed himself to be tugged into motion again and the pair continued through the quiet grounds. It was a time for rest after the day's labours, a break before the formal evening meal was served and the camaraderie shared afterward in the Hall of Fire, and few elves were out on the paths and by-ways. Legolas found this strange, for in Greenwood the trees were never empty and the twilight was as likely a time as any other to encounter one's friends and neighbours.
More so, if one desires privacy during tinnu (twilight) a screen needs be drawn about the talan. Not for the last time, he considered how very different each of the elven realms was from the others. Mithlond seemed strangest of all, considering its conjunction to the Sundering Sea.
"What is the ocean like, Tirn'wador?"
"I could not hope to describe it to you acurately." Galdor reflected in silence for a moment before resuming. "It is like a lake that is endless, yet its surface is a deep green rather than the clear blue seen at Evendim. It is not smooth and reflecting like the waters at Long Lake but quivers, trembling and tumbling over itself as a running stream trips upon stones.
"It sings perpetually like a river yet its voice is low and rises from the abyssal depths, exhaling in a sorrowful lament that fills the air, underscoring every other sound and infiltrating to one's very soul. Its song resembles the beating of a mighty heart so omnipresent is it and yet one never tires of hearing its rhythmic surge and pull.
"And it is filled with living things even as a river or lake. Sometimes great beasts, larger than many of the ships I have been on, can be seen rolling with the waves and blowing high fountains of mist and water into the air. They have no arms or legs, as fish do not, yet neither have they shimmering scales nor gills for breathing. To look into their eyes you would swear there is a thinking mind staring back upon you, and it is clear these are not ordinary swimmers. Dinin Thuiadryn (Underwater Breathers) they are called.
"There are others of similar kind, smaller and finer in appearance, that love to swim alongside the boats as we go out upon the swells. They seem to smile and chatter a strange speech almost, so intelligent is their demeanour."
"Ai! Why have I never heard of such wondrous creatures?"
"You live among the trees, Legolas. I would guess no one in Greenwood has ever sailed upon Aeron and returned to speak of it."
"Nay there must be some remaining who came from Beleriand and stood upon the falas before turning away to march east."
"Well, perhaps you are right and yet I am doubtful. The reason has to do with the call of the sea. Among the Teleri, love of the ocean runs strong in the blood. Once awakened there is no peace for the heart or mind as long as an elf remains away from it. The Wood Elves would be tormented to see this wonder and then return to the world of branches and green leaves.
"Any silvan exposed to Aeron would perpetually hear the song of the surf and smell the salt in the watery air, pining for it and eventually grieving over the loss. Once sea-longing sets in, there is no relief for the afflicted save passage to Aman."
"Could they not reside beside the ocean as your folk do?"
"Some do for long years, reluctant to leave behind family and the lives they have known, yet these are mostly those with some Sindar or Noldor blood in their pedigrees. I have observed numerous silvan elves, mostly Galadhrim, who arrive in the Havens escorting family or friends wishing to leave Middle-earth. Some cannot turn away and depart along with their loved ones. Others gather up their courage and go from the seaside, returning to their homes and kin for a time, sometimes for centuries. Yet they always come back to the coast and sail away for Aman in the end."
"Your words dishearten me, for while I would dearly like to meet these Dinin Thuiadryn, I would not wish to be torn from Greenwood and my people because of it."
By now the pair were far from the main house and nearing Glorfindel's walled garden. The Balrog Slayer was not within, however, having left with his warriors before annûn for night patrol as on the previous evening. A lighted lantern hung from an elegantly wrought post at the gate and illuminated the garden path beside his house. Galdor stopped there and released Legolas' arm.
"Will you be all right on your own from here?" the elder asked with a kindly smile.
"Aye, Trin'wador. I thank you for the escort yet I would have found my way without it. I have no need of a nursemaid to see me through the next hours," Legolas answered, no longer mindful of his tongue in the ancient elf's presence thanks to a lingering, light-headed feeling of intoxication.
"Indeed! Yet I did not wish you to take a wrong turn and end up in a strange place. The miruvor drink still has you in its grip and that is as I intended. Think on what we have discussed and then sleep for a time. When you wake, seek me out and we shall conduct Pennas Lunnen (History Sung). Let all within the Hall of Fire know the valour of your comrades."
"Aye, Tirn'wador, that is fitting." Legolas' felt pleased to be offered the chance to present the story of his friends' lives to the Noldor. All shall hear of the strength found among the Wood Elves. "Aniron Galu lín, Sadron." (I desire your Blessing, Sadron.)
Galdor inclined his head solemnly and placed the palm of his right hand over Legolas' heart. "Bellas ar Ithor en Tawar le beria; Sîdh a Post en Estë le toba. Oltho mae, Cuthenin." (The Strength and Wisdom of Tawar protect you; the Peace and Rest of Estë cover you. Dream well, True-bow.)
"Le hantëan, Tirn'wador." (I thank you, Guardian.) Legolas bowed his head gratefully and when he raised it to meet Galdor's eyes found his heart lightened even as the elder's touch left him. He smiled. "Ab'eveditham." (We shall meet later.)
"Ab'eveditham." Galdor watched beside the gate until he could no longer see the archer's form and then returned to the Last Homely House, hoping to speak with Elrond and Mithrandir before the evening meal.
Legolas entered through the gate and continued on across the silent walled gardens surrounding Glorfindel's house, glancing curiously at the darkened abode as he passed. Glorfindel's home was not even half as large or grand as the Last Homely House yet even so it had two levels and the same high-peaked red-tiled roof. He wondered how the re-born warrior's decor would differ but the curtains were drawn and Legolas could not see in, to his disappointment. Legolas was tempted to try the door and see if he might at least peer inside, yet he resisted the urge and continued to the grove of oaks.
Once under the cover of the ever-leaved hardwoods, the light of Ithil diminished and it was more difficult to make things out. Legolas climbed using direction from the tree itself since this was but the second time he had been in its branches and as yet did not know by rote the best route upwards. No sooner had he achieved the platform and taken a step than his foot collided with a heavy metal object and he exclaimed in dismay.
That was not here before.
Realising the interior was no longer free of clutter, Cuthenin waited for his vision to adjust and then made his way cautiously through the looming obstacles of solid furnishings toward a brighter spot close to the trunk. There his hand discovered a lantern and a flint on the table beside it, and this he lighted in order to get a look at his quarters.
He had to laugh.
Aragorn had gone to a great deal of trouble to make the old talan more appealing, and thus it was crammed with all manner of things Legolas would never have a use for in his everyday life. A small round table and two chairs were collected in one corner right next to the wrought iron brazier on which he had just stubbed his tow. A washstand was set up on the opposite corner complete with a large supply of extra towels and toiletries, a boar bristle hairbrush, a tortoiseshell comb, a nail-file, and mirror.
There was even a settee with space enough for two people and a pair of matching cushions large enough for seating on the floor. The wooden planks were no longer strewn with leaves and twigs but swept clean, and upon them lay no less than three carpets of thick soft wool.
Beyond all this was a thick feather mattress so large the silvan was certain it had been pulled from someone's bedstead. It was laid out on the floor on the west facing side of the talan, and this happened to provide the platform's only open view through the trees. Legolas already knew the vista included the Last Homely House and the cascading falls beyond it.
The softly plump sleeping pallet was covered over with an exquisitely embroidered, green satin coverlet. There were pillows and extra blankets galore piled upon this bed and Legolas had to wonder what the human imagined his normal resting habits might be to supply such luxury for a physical requirement that visited him so seldom. He certainly would not find such repose this night despite Tirn'wador's instruction to do so.
Cuthenin shook his head and smiled, making his way by the light of the lamp to a large trunk situated so as to double as a bedside table. It must be the one from the closet in the main house, he surmised, noting the painted scenes on its exterior. He lifted the lid and found within more of the paper wrapped, labelled garments from the man's early adulthood, so many he could change attire every hour and not run out of clothing to wear for several days. Nearby were the customary wicker baskets: one for clothes in need of laundering and another for carrying necessities to the baths. Aragorn had seen to everything and the archer gave thought to expressing his appreciation for such abundant courtesy.
He has fought with my brothers and knows the austerity of a silvan warrior's life. Aragorn hopes to make my stay here as different from that as may be.
Legolas shut the lid and set his lamp upon it, deciding he should at least attempt to adhere to his Guardian's counsel. He still had the elder's cloak about his shoulders and this he laid aside neatly, for though he had been inexplicably cold throughout the day he now found his temperature uncomfortably elevated. The reason was not difficult to divine; the discussion regarding his feelings toward Glorfindel had heated him up so that he longed for nothing more than to discard every scrap of fabric covering his body. Doing so would tend to inspire following Tirn'wador's first directive to think on their conversation and that would lead him to finally confront his overt and aching arousal.
It crossed his mind briefly to see if there was a privacy screen stowed away somewhere but he discarded the notion; the elves of Imladris did not inhabit the trees and thus there was no one nearby to observe him. Cuthenin disrobed, never imagining that his actions might provide entertainment for someone so far beyond his immediate perception.
Pacing within his study in the Last Homely House, Erestor was fraught with curiosity over Lochgaer's report. He knew the Lord from Mithlond was some sort of spiritual leader among those still clinging to the ancient superstitions, yet wondered what could require so long a conference behind closed doors.
And what of the elder's failed attempt to ensure the meeting's secrecy?
The Chief Advisor suddenly wished he did know more about the Wood Elves' customs. Why would the silvan enter Galdor's rooms under his own power then require aid to walk upright upon leaving? The page had said Legolas looked slightly inebriated, and such a state did not seem consistent with any sort of sacred ritual in Erestor's opinion.
For what purpose would Galdor ply the youth with drink enough to make him intoxicated? Not a noble one, I am thinking. Mayhap the Lord of the Tree has succumbed to his baser instincts and debauched the youth.
Yet as soon as the thought occurred he rejected it; Galdor was not partial to males, from all accounts the Chief Advisor had heard, and his conduct was never disreputable.
Then what is this about?
Erestor considered following the pair and paying a call on the messenger but then had a better idea, one that would ensure he did not run into Galdor on the way there. Quickly he snatched up one of his optical devises and hastened to the observatory. If he was lucky then he would be able to satisfy one of his questions, namely whether Legolas spent the night in his talan or entered into Glorfindel's house instead, there to await the warrior's return from patrol.
The advisor had learned long ago that his rooftop platform afforded not only an unobstructed view of the heavens but of every spot in the valley not hidden by trees, Glorfindel's home included. That he had used his clever visual magnifiers for spying on his lover was also true, and thus had he learned of the Vanya's infidelity so many centuries past. He hoped the silvan would light a lamp and give away his location: the talan or his new lover's home.
As soon as he reached the roof he saw the bright glint of the lantern aloft in the trees and trained his telescope upon it. The placement of that talan had been deliberately chosen to make it visible from the Last Homely House.
Nearly an Age ago, a break in the cover had been created when one of the oaks was lost during a lightening strike. New growth had sprung up but never flourished due to the existing trees' demands upon the soil and light. Thus the treetop playroom of Elrond's children had never been as private as they had all supposed and their tutor had always had them under his eye.
What he saw this night made him gasp in shock one second and grin with lascivious delight the next. The Wood Elf was stretched out naked on his bed, pleasuring himself.
"Oh Valar," Erestor whispered and found he had to swallow.
The Noldo was unable to stop himself, either from watching or from joining the silvan in the erotic activity. Soon Erestor was burning for release and quickened his ministrations to make it so. Just when he thought he could bear the tension no longer, Cuthenin's orgasm came, overtaking the youth with enough force to make him arch off the mattress in rigid throes of passionate fulfilment.
"Ai!" The sight sent Erestor into his own spiral of ecstasy and he dropped the telescope to the floor in order to grip the banister of the platform as the sensation consumed him. He watched his semen stream forth until gradually the flow subsided, leaning heavily on the rail as he attempted to catch his breath. After a time he heart rate slowed and he became capable of rational thought. Erestor made his appearance decent and retrieved the spyglass, training it again on the talan.
Cuthenin was relaxed but still struggling to resume steady respiration, his entire body flushed a soft rose from the excitement, eyes still shut and lips parted just slightly. Then he stretching languidly upon the sheets, smiling, and reached for a cloth to wipe off the evidence of his ejaculation. That done he turned upon his side, presenting his unknown admirer a fine view of his rear, and thereafter remained still.
Erestor found himself reluctant to lower the scope and continued gazing upon the slumbering elf until the gong for the evening meal sounded dimly from his rooms below. With a sigh he turned from his scrutiny at last, deciding Glorfindel definitely did not deserve to be the one to introduce the visiting warrior to the carnal delights of male coupling.
The evening repast was an extravagant affair, nearly on the order of a grand feast. Though this meal was always formal in Elrond's house, the numerous guests had elevated the function to a degree of elegance usually enjoyed only on holidays and official state visits. Everyone arrived dressed to suit the occasion and with high expectations for the fare about to be consumed. Everyone save the messenger from King Thranduil.
Legolas did not appear at this gathering for he was still sleeping, having truly not rested more than a hour or two after his arrival at dawn. Yet he was young and physical recovery was rapid, thus he did not dream much past midnight. By then, most of the guests, at least the mortal ones, had begun to retire, leaving the Hall of Fire to the elves and their many songs and dances.
Galdor was not within the magnificent abode either, for after dining he had retreated to the path beside the kitchen gardens, there to await his ward's arrival.
"Suilad, Legolas," he called as the Wood Elf approached, smiling to see him rested and more at ease. "You are ready for the Pennas Lunnen, I see, and at dawn we will break fast together. Now let the Valley of the Bruinen ring with the glory of your friends' courageous deeds!"
"Sui pedich, Tirn'wador." (As you say, Guardian) Legolas could not suppress his justified pride to do so, for never had such a ceremony been performed amid outlanders in any account he had ever heard and he was honoured to perform this solemn and glorious chant for his friends. The two walked in silence and the archer gave another glance up into the heavens, now filled with the brilliance of a multitude of stars, and smiled.
Ahead the Last Homely House was brightly lit and from the mansion poured the luminous glow of hearth and lantern, the merry sound of fair elven voices, and the music of harps and pipes. Long before he reached the main doors, through which Legolas had never entered before, the silvan warrior announced to the revellers that a new experience was upon them. Inhaling deeply, he sang out in a voice as pristine and clear as the glinting gems of Varda's grace.
"Sí lú an rîn, sui hûnin niniel or rimai sui sîr, nîr nînath sui ross." (Now is the time for remembrance, as our sorrowful hearts overflow like rivers, weeping tears like rain.)
"Linnam an adhôr ind dhîm ah gell uireb." (We sing to replace sad thoughts with joy everlasting.) Galdor's exquisite baritone called in answer.
"Linnam o mellyn dangen vi maeth; hyn aun cuil uireb, awarthol bair ar nothrim an min theled fael." (We sing of friends slain in battle; they gave life eternal, forsaking homes and families for one just purpose.) Legolas resumed the chant.
"Linnam o cairdh hyn dely ar berin. Na gyrn hall. Eglerio maethyr dainnen!" (We sing of their deeds brave and fell. By their valour they are exalted. Praise the fallen warriors!) Galdor refrained.
"Sí lú an rîn, sui hûnin niniel or rimai sui sîr, nîr nînath sui ross." (Now is the time for remembrance, as our sorrowful hearts overflow like rivers, weeping tears like rain.) The Wood Elf completed the antiphon.
Every other sound had ceased upon the first notes of the sombre dirge and yet the air came alive, charged as surely as if a great bolt of energy was about to be unleashed from menel, filled with the anticipation of the First-born and the mortals alike within the house. Then the chant rang out again, dignified and profound, limned with majesty and grave solemnity, more distinctly now for the singers were closer. A third time the pentad resounded and this time the notes echoed through the Hall of Fire, for Legolas and Galdor had entered in.
Then followed the long Lay of Calarlim, for Cuthenin could not help but emphasise the account of this dear one's life above the others'. Spellbound the Noldor listened, for the archer's voice was as fair as his form and combined the allure was irresistable. None dared join the soloist nor would the musicians so much as pluck a string, and it was said later the Lord of the Valley and his sons wept for the silvan's loss. So sweet was the sound of his singing that even those already abed, even the doughty dwarves and Rangers, awoke with tears upon their cheeks and a sorrow so keen it pained their hearts to listen to the strains of the silvan's lament.
As the first rays of Anor breached the high barrier wall of the eastern cliffs, the final overtones of the last stanzas died away in a softening echo that was swallowed by the omnipresent roar of the falls. Yet faintly did the returning troops of the night patrol discern the song and hastened to reach their destination, curious to know what had passed during their absence. At the lead sped Glorfindel, urging Asfaloth for speed, for he was certain he knew the source of this subdued and mournful hymn. Thus with great splendour the elven warriors were borne into the grounds of Elrond's house and were met by a quiet and restrained populace. There was no jesting put forth nor cutting word spoken of the messenger from any mouth that morn.
Glorfindel strode briskly to his home, hoping to find his guest at the talan, and was disappointed to find the platform deserted. Hurriedly he washed and changed his attire, not even considering the reason for his impatient haste, knowing only a need to see Cuthenin and learn that everything was right with him. Oft through Ithil's hours his thoughts had wandered to the archer, distracting the Vanya noble with concerns over his well-being and conflicted considerations regarding the role of Faer Hebron. Thus it was with no small degree of dissatisfaction that Glorfindel was met at his very gate by Galdor and accompanied the elder Lord back inside the house.
Now Erestor had been in the Hall of Fire and received the full impact of the Pennas Lunnen. This did naught but increase his desire to prevent the youth from becoming Glorfindel's lover, for in his mind it was unjust for his former paramour to acquire such a prize after the shameful way he had been treated. How could the Valar allow Glorfindel to not only go unpunished for his wrongs but actually reward his infidelity by granting him the first taste of this virgin warrior?
Even more, he could discern the silvan was capable of great depth of love and that such a gift might be tendered to Glorfindel was galling. He would not permit such to come to pass. Glorfindel spurned the advisor's love, why should he become the recipient of the Wood Elf's heart?
He denies me, now let him know the sting of like rejection. Legolas shall not bind his soul to Glorfindel.
Erestor watched and waited as Legolas and Galdor took the morning meal together then parted. The messenger headed out doors and the advisor followed after a discreet interval. Yet no sooner had Erestor stepped outside than he lost track of the Wood Elf. Perplexed, he wandered into the gardens, reasoning the silvan might like to tour the grounds, and followed the small brook as it wended its way amid the beds and the foliage.
After some time of this aimless walking, Erestor halted beside the stream within a small stand of beeches and pondered where he should search next. Would his elusive prey return to the talan or perhaps seek out the Hobbits? Was he more likely to take to the training grounds, ask after Mithrandir's counsel, or engage the company of the twins?
"Valar! Where can he be? An elf is not capable of vanishing into the air, not even a silvan," he complained aloud, no closer to a decision than at the beginning of his rambling walk.
"For what reason do you seek a silvan elf?" a voice wafted through the branches and drew the Noldo's gaze upward and to the right. There gazing down upon him, not more than two metres above, perched in apparent comfort and ease upon a sturdy limb was Legolas.
"Ah! A start you gave me, Legolas!" Erestor said and added a light laugh. "I was searching for you, that is true."
"What is it that you would ask of me?"
"Nay, I have not come here to pose questions, Legolas, but to tender a humble apology, if you will accept it." Erestor bowed as he spoke, hoping his words would carry enough sincerity to coax the visitor from the heights. To his invidious glee, the archer leaped down at once and approached him with arm extended.
"I am glad to do so," spoke Legolas as he gripped the advisor's forearm in the traditional warrior's grasp, wary but willing to listen.
"That is better, then, and a weight is lifted from my heart for your generosity. It was wrong of me to ascribe to you hurts inflicted by another. Seeing you and Glorfindel together raised many unhappy memories."
"I am sorry for your grief." It was more difficult to speak the polite response than Cuthenin would have liked.
"Le hantëan. (I thank you.) I feel duty bound to warn you, Legolas, for you are new to these lands and have barely met the folk of Imladris. Not all is at it seems upon first glance."
"Of what do you speak?"
"Why, of the intrepid Balrog-Slayer, naturally. He wears an honourable bearing and it is clothed in a most attractive and agreeable form, as I am sure you would agree." Erestor smiled bitterly at the faint blush that stole over the silvan's ears at this remark, but he carried on, determined to spoil Glorfindel's plans. "Yet the heart within is inconstant."
"Nay, I cannot believe this. Why would you make such a charge?" Legolas did not even realise how hotly he contested the advisor's words.
"I am but reporting to you my own history," the advisor smoothly placated the riled Wood Elf. "If you would hear of it. My conscience will not allow me to stand by and observe the same fate befall another, making no attempt to avert the catastrophe of a broken spirit."
"You presume much and take your own gossip for fact." Legolas moved away, unwilling to confirm the Noldo's insinuation.
"Perhaps, yet you cannot deny it was his name you cried out in the night. Not everyone stays indoors through the twilit dusk and the oak grove is not so far from the path as to be out of hearing range."
Legolas eyes and mouth gaped wide in disbelief and embarrassment. He had not considered that someone might overhear his exclamations of passionate longing and flushed in humiliation, imagining the scene. He could not find words to counter this and turned to leave, dreading that the anecdote would be spread amid the population. A hand upon his arm halted his retreat.
"Nay, do not go," Erestor hid his sordid triumph to have guessed correctly, making his tone pleading and apologetic instead. "Your secret is safe in my keeping. I am here but to offer you the truth before you commit yourself fully. Sit beside me upon the grass and I will speak to you of Gondolin and my life there espoused to Glorfindel."
Legolas searched the advisor's eyes diligently, sure there must be malice inherent in the invitation. His instinct warned not to trust the advisor. Yet he could not deny his morbid curiosity to know what had befallen the couple to part them and reduce the noble Lord to such spiteful vengeance. In a corner of his awareness, he believed that a kernel of truth must be within the Noldo's claim, for such deep anger oft substituted for unbearable anguish. Thus, Cuthenin did stay and remained with Erestor through the morning, absorbing the dolorous tale the statesman could not hold back.
Indeed, so long were they sequestered amid the peaceful grove of trees that Galdor and Lindir ventured from the house to seek their respective friends, for the council was beginning and the two elves had not arrived. It was not without reason that their late entry together gave Glorfindel a deep sense of foreboding. He could say nothing, however, for the emissary from the Woodland Realm was seated by his Guardian, with Elrond and Erestor next, blocking the re-born warrior from conversing with him.
The council proceeded; its affect upon everyone was profound and Legolas' prediction was borne forth. From no less than the lips of Aragorn, Elrond's own foster son, came his peoples' condemnation.
'How came the folk of Thranduil to fail in their trust?' 1.
The memory of the sentence stung as sharply as the initial hearing of it had done. Legolas had defended his realm as best he could but knew it was not sufficient to account for such a disaster. Even Gandalf's attempt to minimise the error could not remove it from anyone's thoughts, least of all his.
At the council's conclusion Cuthenin was among the first to vacate the Last Homely House, eager to remove himself from chastising eyes and disapproving frowns that simultaneously failed to show surprise, as though such neglect of duty was no more than one should expect of Wood Elves.
Legolas walked determinedly from the stately grounds, making for the talan and his weapons. He was angry, mortified, disgusted, and ashamed, all at once. He could hear Glorfindel following, calling for him to wait yet he did not, desiring no discourse with the Balrog-Slayer as yet. What he needed was a means to work off some of the negative energy the morning's events had promoted, and a deep meditation upon the majesty of Tawar would not be sufficient.
I crave combat. I would go hunting Yrch, were I at home. First Erestor reveals his espousal to Glorfindel and then I must reveal the failure of the Greenwood. This atop the deaths upon my hands! All because I could not detain a simple gangrel creature in custody.
He headed for the training grounds, brusquely pushing past the Vanya as he left the walled garden and ignoring the hail from Galdor as well. They continued to follow and he listened as they bickered over him along the way.
"Wait here; I will tend to him," commanded the Lord of the Tree.
"I must speak with him, Galdor," insisted Glorfindel. "It was unwise to have his news told in such a forum before the rites of the dead could be accomplished. Let me tell him of your decision."
"Nay, there is more amiss than this council's outcome. I am his Tirn'wador and will ease his agitated mood."
"Aye, it is no wonder he is rattled; you saw him with Erestor."
"Indeed, the advisor may have been filling in some of the background ahead of you. Let me explain it fully. Go and see to the organisation of the scouting parties for no doubt your Lord has need of your wisdom."
"I will do so once I have satisfied my mind that Cuthenin bears me no ill will," countered Glorfindel stubbornly.
At this Legolas stopped upon the path and turned back, striding to them swiftly where they had halted in surprise and some trepidation, so gloomy and fierce was his expression. But his eyes cleared when he looked upon Glorfindel's, for he found nothing of duplicity therein, only concern and regret.
"Ai, Glorfindel, then go with a lighter heart. I hold nothing against you. Indeed, I am not the one you should hasten to set at ease. It is Erestor with whom you must square things."
"Cuthenin, do not heed his venomous words, I beg you!" implored Glorfindel. "You know he is capable of falsehoods. He imagines far more than ever there was betwixt us. It all happened in my last life; am I never to be forgiven?"
"Nay, it is not of Gondolin I speak. Erestor's ill-feeling is centred here in Imladris. He swears by the One that he saw you with another, intimately engaged."
"I was never espoused to Erestor here. I have not promised myself to anyone since my return to Middle-earth. He imagines wrongs that were never committed and claims harm by me that his own heart invented."
"Then you deny it?"
Nay, there was another, that is true, yet I made no…"
"It matters not!" Legolas spoke in impassioned frustration to hear such justification. "Erestor believes himself still espoused to you. He did not die nor feel the bond between you to be broken."
"Peace, Legolas, allow Glorfindel to account for his actions," chided Galdor.
"It is an unfair charge. When I perished, everything perished. I was reborn with a new heart that did not know him. I was remade with no binding ties to anyone." Glorfindel said, furious with Erestor for creating this rift before he barely even had the chance to befriend Cuthenin.
In silence Legolas considered this, for it was not a thing that he would have imagined. If Erestor was aware of it then he was truly in the wrong to demand what was no longer his to claim. He could not justly accuse Glorfindel of betrayal if their union had never resumed its former course.
"Did Erestor understand this?" he asked quietly and waited for a reply. Nothing did Glorfindel utter, merely standing with a dumbfounded expression covering his fair countenance. Legolas was aghast. "You never told him?"
"I…he refused to…"
"Love died in your heart even as your body was broken, yet you did not reveal this. Why? Can you wonder at his wrath to see you with someone else, to be rejected by the one he waited for as more than an Age passed? That is how he learned that he meant nothing to you any longer."
The intensity of this speech was enough to steal the words from Glorfindel's lips, for he perceived that somehow he had hurt Cuthenin without ever intending such a thing. There was a desperation within the tones, as though the silvan warrior had just lost one of the few remaining tethers keeping him bound to Arda, and that frightened the Balrog-Slayer. He shifted stricken eyes to Galdor, imploring intervention, as Legolas turned away with an exclamation of disgust.
"Legolas, there is more to this than Erestor has told. I ask that you refrain from judgement until Glorfindel's part is explained," cautioned Galdor, reaching out to grasp Legolas' arm and thus stall the warrior's escape. "I have spent the morn with Glorfindel, as I promised, and am satisfied. Long have I known him and I will vouch for his genuine intentions. His heart is not so cold as you think it. Come, recall your initial evaluation of his character and trust to the conclusion attained then. If you cannot, at least heed my counsel."
For a moment it seemed as though Legolas would defy his new Guardian, so vexed was his expression, yet finally he drew a deep breath and bowed his head.
"Sui pedich, Tirn'wador," (As you say, Guardian) he stated stiffly and gave a brief nod as his eyes met the re-born warrior's as well. "I will abide by the advice of my Guardian. Yet say no more to me of these matters until you have done so with Erestor."
With that he resumed his course and Galdor accompanied him, leaving Glorfindel alone on the path.
TBC
1. Direct quote from the Fellowship of the Ring.