Title: Runes
Author: Reona
Email: reona32@aol.com
Archive: Peredhil, Library of Moria, Melethryn Archive, Fanfiction.net. Others-be my guest; just tell me.
Part: 2/5
Fandom: LotR
Pairing(s): Glorfindel/Elrond
Rating: R
Summary: Elrond is kidnapped by humans for his skill in reading runes. But the secret those runes tell could destroy the world.
Disclaimer: I don't own LotR. I do own this story and any odd characters that show up.
Warning: Attempted rape. I'm not nice to poor Elrond in this.
Authors Note: Uial is my creation; he's Elrond's horse. I'm guessing at the Elvish and so are you.
Ai Elbereth, berio nin ned i emih - Oh Elbereth, protect me during the dark time
Something soft pillowed his aching head but the bright light no longer burned at his eyes and the motion of a moving horse was absent. Elrond carefully opened his eyes and saw the blue canopy of a bed above him. Slowly turning his head, he found himself abed in a square room. Along the left wall were three tall windows, the bright sun dimmed with heavy blue curtains. Across from the bed was a single door, opened to a bathing chamber. To the right was a sitting area and another door, this one closed.
Upon the small table next to the bed was a glass of water and a pitcher. A dry cough escaped Elrond and he carefully began to sit up in the bed. He noticed that his outer robe had been removed from him, leaving him in his long tunic and trousers. When the half-Elf succeeded in sitting up in the bed he picked up the glass and greedily drank the cool liquid, soothing his sore throat. His body wasn't overly sore but his limbs still responded sluggishly to his mind's commands. He returned the glass to the table and rubbed a hand across his forehead, finding that his mithril circlet was gone. Quickly, his hands flew to the braid at the back of his head and found that the butterfly clasp he had been wearing was also gone. Tears gathered in his eyes for a moment; the mithril silver clasp had been a gift from his twin brother long ago. He felt no need to check for Vilya, he knew that no other but himself could ever remove her from him.
Wiping at his tears, he found that his face was dirt stained. How far had his captures traveled before he had been delivered here? They had obviously kept him unconscious for the trip, his only memory being that faint time upon the horse. He looked around the room again but he was indeed alone. Pushing back the covers, Elrond slowly turned on the bed and placed his feet on the wooden floor. Although this caused some discomfort as he forced his body to cooperate, he was able to stand from the bed with some aid from the table. The half-Elf hung onto the bedposts as he walked around the bed and headed for the windows. He made it to the first window without problem and drew away the curtains. The sudden light from the sun caused a stinging pain to form behind his eyes, now sensitive from the drugs. He closed his eyes and turned his head away, hiding his face in the cloth hanging. Slowly, letting his eyes adjust, Elrond drew his eyes away and looked out the window.
A city lay out before him, red terra cotta roofs spreading off into the distance until the sharp green of farmland began. Elrond tried the window latch and found that it opened easily. Fresh sea scented air blew into his face, although he could not see the ocean from the direction he was facing. Leaning out slightly, Elrond looked downward into a stone courtyard four stories below. Vertigo assaulted Elrond, the world twisting harshly, and he grabbed a hold of the curtain, pulling himself back. Burying his face into the cloth again, he waited for the dizzy sensation to leave him. Afterward, he moved away to open the other curtains, letting the sunlight in but being careful not to look out. There was no escape that way, there were no trees to climb and he would never be able to make that jump without injuring himself.
He searched the room, finding similar windows in the bathing chamber and that the other door was locked solid. He found his russet outer robe and his boots draped over a chair and dawned them again. His clip and circlet were not there, much to his sorrow. He suspected that his captures had taken them for the price they would bring, both ornaments being made of expensive mithril. He quickly found that all the draws of the furniture were also empty and the servant passages remained hidden. Sighing, Elrond lowered his tired body into a chair and settled to wait. There was nothing more he could do.
Some minutes later, the door swung open and banged against the wall. Elrond startled at the sound and stood. Two men entered the door, one staying at the threshold and the other striding toward the half-Elf. Both wore dark red coats of brocade cloth and heavy boots. Their skin was dark, telling of long hours in the sun, and swords hung at their waists. Elrond drew back a little, glaring at the man coming toward him. "I demand to know who is in charge here!"
The man grabbed Elrond's arm, pulling him forward roughly. "As you wish," the guard laughed. The man at the door laughed lowly as his comrade drew Elrond from the room and closed the door after them. The man set a swift pace down the hall but Elrond's limbs were still sluggish, fighting off the last of the drugs. "Keep up!" growled the man. Elrond gritted his teeth and was forced to hold on to the guard least a hurried trip down some stairs make him fall. He doubted his escort would catch him before he tumbled down the steps. The grip on his arm tightened and Elrond feared that he would have a bruise where the man held him.
They turned into a gallery hallway, many paintings of men upon the wall and tall windows opposite. Elrond turned his head away from the light as his eyes burned again and almost tripped as the man turned quickly. He was led into a study and the man pushed him down into a chair before a wide desk. The man smirked at him, cocking an eyebrow, and turned swiftly on his heel. He closed the double doors sharply and Elrond heard the clicking sound of a key in the lock.
Elrond rubbed at his sore shoulder, the pain shooting across his neck and down his spine. The desk he sat before was empty, the tall chair behind it absent of any person. Beyond that was a large window, from which Elrond finally saw the ocean. He wondered how far east or west upon the coast he was. Shelves filled with books and scrolls covered the walls and a large glass case stood to his right. "I must apologize for my guard's behavior," came a smooth voice. A man stepped out from behind the chair and turned toward Elrond. This man had sandy blond hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He wore a fine blue waistcoat and tailored pants, an etched glass of some dark liquid in his hand. "They do not met Elven royalty often and do not know how to give proper respect."
Elrond stiffened and folded his hands neatly in his lap, becoming lord of Imladris in a heartbeat. "I am not king of the Noldor, sir. I rejected the crown at the end of the First Age." he replied calmly. The man did not even blink at his rebuttal. "I would, however, like to know why I am here. A simple invitation would have sufficed."
The man smiled and Elrond felt his skin crawl. "King or not, Lord Elrond, I do have some use for you," the man replied, sitting down in his chair.
Elrond narrowed his eyes at him. "What makes you think I will help you after being dragged half across Arda?" he said with anger dripping in his voice. Although he knew not where he was exactly, a trip from Lothlórien to the coast was a long one.
The man chuckled. "What makes you think you have any choice in the matter?" If he hadn't already hated him, Elrond would have loathed him for those words alone. He despised this type of person, conceited and arrogant. "My name is Lord Dameon Xavier and I have brought you here to read something for me."
"Read it yourself," replied Elrond.
Dameon lifted his glass to the light and swirled the red liquid. "You do not understand, Lord Elrond. This is not a collection of Númenórë writings or even your lovely Tengwar scripts. No, this is something far greater. But, alas, it is in a language no other can read." The human lord paused and took a sip of his drink. "Which is why I need your skill at reading runes, Lord Elrond, to decipher the script and unlock its secrets," he continued.
Elrond shook his head; there was no way he would help this human get anything. A dead weight settled in his chest at the thought of this man obtaining any of the old knowledge that might exist in the world. "I'm afraid I must decline my help, Lord Dameon," he said, disgust on his tongue.
Dameon smiled as if amused. "Again, you seem to think you have a choice," he said with mirth in his voice. He picked up a small silver bell on the corner of his desk and rang it. After a moment another human came in the door, this one also with sandy blond hair but no beard. He didn't wear the garb of the guards but wore a short blue brocade jacket over a shirt and pants. "My son," greeted Dameon. "Please take Lord Elrond back to his room and see that he is made ready for our little outing tonight." Dameon smiled at Elrond as the younger human walked toward them with a nod. "We must go at night, Lord Elrond. Must be hush hush and all."
Elrond almost yelped in pain as Dameon's son grabbed his sore arm and yanked him from his chair. He was pulled painfully out of the room and back down the gallery. The trip up the stairs almost twisted Elrond's ankle, hanging awkwardly from the man's grip. The human was grumbling something under his breath, some of which Elrond was able to understand. His words revealed that the man did not have a very high opinion of Elves. They neared the door where the two guards from before were standing and Elrond almost sighed in relief. The rough handling was making his body ache horribly and his head was beginning to pound. The two guards in red coats opened the door as they saw them approach. Suddenly, the man holding Elrond spun him around and backhanded him across the cheek. He then pushed Elrond through the open doorway and the half-Elf fell to the floor with a cry of pain. "Damn Elf! You just do as you're told!" yelled the man. The door slammed closed before Elrond could lift his spinning head from the floorboards and he was left alone in the room.
Some laughing sounded from outside the door and Elrond found his opinion of everyone in this house falling to the pits of Mount Doom. Slowly, he rolled onto his knees, one hand rising to cup his stinging cheek. He fought back tears as he carefully pushed himself up and made his way to a couch. A small flash of pain from his hip caused a tiny whimper in his throat as Elrond sat upon the couch. Elrond gently touched the corner of his lips and winced. He was in a bad situation; he was in the possession of an obvious insane man and his homicidal son who seemed bent on making him bleed. He would not give Dameon Xavier what he wanted, his inner fëa told him that if the man achieved what he wished then the world would be in danger. A band of ice formed around Elrond's heart and he closed his eyes as he felt his spirits drop.
The door opening caused Elrond to quickly open his eyes and he tensed. A cart entered the doorway, followed by a willowy young child in a faded green tunic and torn pants. The child could not have been more than 12 years old and had light brown hair that hung limply around his face. He stopped in the threshold and stared at Elrond, as if the half-Elf were something amazing. The child then jerked forward, as if pushed from behind. He glared over his shoulder and continued into the room. From behind him came the first guard, the one that had taken Elrond to Dameon's study earlier. The guard closed the door and stood by it, his arms folded across his chest and fixing a sneer at Elrond. The young human child walked toward Elrond and stopped the cart near him. "Hi!" he chirped happily. "I'm Avon and I'm supposed to see that you eat, King Elf."
Elrond dredged up a smile for the child, mentally taking back his opinion about everyone in the house. "I'm no king, young one," he said.
The child smiled brightly at hearing him speak and began to lift the silver dome covers from the food. "Well, you're a king to me. I hope you're hungry, King Elf, because I've got lots of food for ya. Mommas' a really good cook," Avon said. The guard snorted and Avon glared at him. "Not a word out of ya, Theron."
Elrond looked between the child and the man. He quickly lowered his eyes as the guard grinned at him nastily. Truthfully, even the thought of food made his stomach turn, probably another affect of being drugged for so long. "Thank you, Avon," he replied. Hesitantly, wearily watching the guard Theron, he picked up a spoon and dipped it into what appeared to be tomato soup. Some bread and cool juice later, Elrond knew he could eat no more and wiped at his mouth, careful of the tender bruise he could already feel forming on the side of his face. He looked up to find that Avon was staring at him, a look of awe once again on his youthful face. "What is it?" he asked.
Avon coughed a little and lowered his eyes. "It's just that…well…you're so beautiful," he muttered.
Theron chuckled and pushed himself away from the wall. "Yeah, Elf, you're real pretty," he agreed.
Avon frowned at the guard as he came nearer. "Put a sock in it, Theron," the child said.
Theron growled at him. "Mind your elders, kid."
"You aren't my elder!" exclaimed Avon. Theron pushed the child away with a grunt and grabbed Elrond's wrist.
"Unhand me!" ordered Elrond. Theron laughed and yanked him up off the couch, upsetting the cart and causing it to overturn. The loud crash drowned out the thump that sounded as Theron pushed Elrond against the wall, pinning him. Elrond's grey eyes widened as Theron broke the tie of his robe and pushed it off his shoulders. "Stop!" Fear turned his blood to ice and Elrond tried to buck the guard off of him, finding himself held firmly against the wall.
Theron laughed and leaned in to lick the half-Elf's cheek. Elrond almost threw up in disgust. "Pretty Elf," muttered Theron. The guard ground himself forward and Elrond cried out as he felt the man's arousal against his hip. Theron tugged uselessly at the sash around Elrond's waist, unable to free the folded cloth.
Avon came up behind them, his eyes hard, and grabbed the bottom of Theron's coat. "Theron, stop!" he yelled.
The guard hissed a curse and pushed the child away again. "Keep your mouth shut!" Finding the grip upon him loosened, Elrond pushed forward and escaped Theron. The Man yelled in anger and lunged for him, catching Elrond around the legs and bringing both of them to the floor.
"Get off!" screamed Elrond, kicking his leg up. Theron grunted in pain as the half-Elf's foot connected with his knee and slapped Elrond in the face. Avon started yelling for the guards as Theron pulled himself up to straddle Elrond's hips. Tears leaked from Elrond's eyes as the guard groaned above him, the man rotating his pelvis against the half-Elf. A dagger blade flashed in the light and Theron cut away the sash around Elrond's waist, clawing at the collar of his tunic. Elrond sobbed as he heard the fabric rip, baring his shoulder. "No…stop," he muttered. Elrond pushed against him but the force was not enough to move the Man, the half-Elf's body still affected by the drugs.
Theron began to thrust his crotch against Elrond's hip, leaning down to bite at the pale skin of his shoulder. "So…beautiful…" the guard grunted, lust darkening his eyes. Theron suddenly screamed in pain and his head bowed back. Avon cursed and yanked again on the guard's hair, yelling all the while. "You little brat!" The child ducked the blade of the dagger and was able to use the guard's momentum to push him off of Elrond. The half-Elf rolled away, curling against the footboard of the bed.
The door burst open as Theron turned toward Avon and a booming voice echoed in the room. "What is going on here?" yelled Dameon. Elrond flinched at the sound and hugged himself, bowing his head until his long hair hid his face.
Avon moved until he was standing in front of the huddled Elrond, glaring at Theron. "Theron tried to attack him!" he accused.
Dameon's cold eyes took in the ruined clothing around the room and he sneered. "You fool!" he screamed. The human lord stormed toward Theron, who had paled at his entrance, and backhanded the guard. "If you've injured him I will have your head!" Dameon turned toward where Elrond was and neared him.
Avon quickly stood in his way and bowed low to the human lord. "Please, my lord, I will see to the Elf. His injuries are not grave. I will look after him," pleaded the child.
Dameon sneered, anger in his eyes, and turned on his heel. "You had better!" he growled. "I want him ready for tonight or you will see the lash come morning!" His son stood in the doorway and Dameon pointed at him. "Jalen, see that this piece of scum is taken to the brig!" The human lord stormed to the door. "And see that this mess is cleaned up!" he ordered, seeing the overturned food cart.
Jalen bowed quickly, lowering his eyes as Dameon went out the door. "Yes, father," he said. As the human lord's heavy footsteps echoed down the hall Jalen raised his eyes and sneered. "You heard Lord Dameon!" he yelled. "Take him to the brig and have a maid come to clean the room!" Theron was hustled from the room, the guard yelling at Avon, throwing curses at the child.
Jalen pushed the other guards from the room, sneering over his shoulder at where Avon and Elrond were. "Damn Elves…" Elrond flinched as the door slammed shut, leaving the room in a heavy silence. The half-Elf remained huddled against the footboard, tears falling down his cheeks under his hair. His torn tunic hung down his right shoulder, showing a livid set of teeth marks where Theron had bitten him in his sick passion. His stinging cheek was a molted green and brown color where he had been hit twice, his advanced healing ability allowing the bruise to deepen in color so quickly. Terror, anger, and humiliation twisted within his chest, making his throat burn and his limbs tremble. Avon's soft caress to the crown of his head only made him flinch again, unable to bear even the touch of someone wishing to comfort him.
Avon drew his hands away when he saw the half-Elf flinch, tears of regret that anyone could treat such a beautiful creature so harshly in his eyes. "I'm sorry, King Elf," he whispered. Avon stood helplessly next to him for a few minutes until turning and entering the bathing chamber. Vaguely, Elrond heard the sounds of running water and Avon's quiet movements in the next room.
Some minutes later, Elrond's body gave one last shudder and his eyes finally focused on the floorboards. Slowly, feeling as if he were moving through mud, he raised one hand and wiped at his face, wincing as other sore places on his body protested. Lifting his head proved to be a bit harder but his hair finally fell away from his face. His sparkling eyes fell upon Avon, who stood by him with a robe in his hands. Elrond stared at him for a moment until recognition dawned. "Avon, my young champion, thank you."
Avon's face turned red with embarrassment. "Aw, I'm nothing special," he protested. "Couldn't just let him hurt ya like that."
A small smile came to Elrond's lips. "You are very special, Avon. Don't ever let anyone tell you that you are not. I own you a debt I may never be able to repay," he said.
A pleased smile covered Avon's face and he turned a deeper shade of red, if that was possible. "Would you like a bath, King Elf? It would do you some good," asked the child.
Elrond looked into the bathing chamber and saw the steam coming from the pool, his sore body longing for the warmth of the water. A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered the touch of that guard and wished to wash it from his skin, if not his mind. "A bath would be wonderful, young champion." This caused Avon's blush to renew itself and the child sheepishly handed Elrond the robe he carried. Elrond slipped the robe over his shoulders and used the footboard of the bed to slowly pull himself to his feet.
Dizziness attacked Elrond for a moment and Avon gripped his elbow as he saw the half-Elf sway. "Easy now," the child muttered. Together, they made it into the bathing chamber and Elrond was able to kneel on the stone besides the pool. Avon went to a dressing table while Elrond dipped his fingers into the water and found it to be at a pleasurable temperature. Avon returned to his side with a brush. "You're hair is all tangled," he said.
Elrond looked at the brush and frowned a little; he did not think his arms would allow him to brush his own hair. "Will you brush my hair for me?" he asked.
Avon's eyes widened with amazement. "You want me to brush you hair?" he echoed. Elrond nodded with a smile and Avon eagerly nodded his head. "I'd be honored, King Elf." The child moved behind Elrond and set the brush to his hair. Avon paused for a moment. "I don't want to hurt you," he muttered guiltily.
"You will not," replied Elrond. Avon bit his lip and carefully drew the brush downward. Several minutes later saw Elrond with his eyes closed in pleasure and Avon with a big grin on his face. Elrond's hair once again shone like black onyx set with stars.
Reluctantly, Avon stopped and returned the brush to the dressing table. The child stopped again and bit his lip, indecision on his face. "I will wait in the other room for you to finish," he said, thinking that Elrond would be uncomfortable undressing in front of anyone.
"Avon?" Elrond called softly. The child turned back again to see the half-Elf draw his hair over one of his shoulders. "I need your help. The buttons for my tunic are on the back and I cannot reach them." Elrond's voice was soft and a fine trembling shook his shoulders again.
Avon took a deep breath and approached the half-Elf again. "Okay," he said easily, placing himself behind Elrond. A row of mother of pearl buttons ran from the collar of the tunic to the small of the back. Gently, mindful of every body movement Elrond made, Avon undid the buttons. When he was finished, Avon backed away. "I'm done."
"Thank you," said Elrond softly. He waited until the child had turned away again to pull the tunic off his arms and then over his head, baring himself from the waist up. Another bruise peeked from under his trousers at his hip and one shoulder blade was red. Elrond bit his lip to keep a whimper back as he was forced to move sore muscles and mistreated limbs. He undid his pants and slipped them off, checking to make sure Avon was still looking away. He then unwrapped his loincloth and slipped into the pool, sighing in relief as the warm water engulfed him.
Avon peeked over his shoulder at the sound and found Elrond in the pool. "I didn't put in any scent because I didn't know what you liked," he said sheepishly.
Elrond cupped some water in his hands and splashed his face. "That is alright, I do not wish any," he replied. He cleaned the traces of tears from his face and gathered a cloth and soap from a basket on the edge of the pool. The half-Elf looked over his shoulder and saw that Avon had seated himself near the doorway, although facing away from the bathing pool. Elrond washed his body, careful of sore spots, and imagined he was washing away that man's touch. He saw it drain off into the pool and be forever taken away from him, leaving him clean once more. "Ai Elbereth, berio nin ned i emih," he whispered.
"What was that?" asked Avon. "It was beautiful."
Elrond smiled and washed some soap off. "A prayer for protection to Elbereth," he answered. He opened a bottle from the basket and sniffed it, smelling apple blossoms. The next bottle smelled of sage and heather.
"Elbereth?" echoed Avon, stumbling over the Elvish word. "That is your people's goddess, right?"
Elrond smiled, most people didn't even know that. "Yes, Elbereth is the queen of the Valar. She was said to have placed the stars in the sky to welcome us when we awoke at Cuiviénen."
"Cuiviénen?" asked Avon. Several times repeating it later with Elrond's help, Avon was able to get something close to the proper pronunciation.
"It means simply 'Water of Awakening' and it's the lake in Middle-Earth where the Elves awoke," answered Elrond. He paused, clutching the apple blossoms scented bottle in his hands. "Young champion, I fear I need your help again." Avon looked over his shoulder carefully. "I cannot wash my hair, just as I could not brush it. I will need you to do it," said Elrond.
The half-Elf kept his shoulders below the water line as Avon stood and came to the pool. The boy knelt at the edge and took the bottle. "I would be honored again, King Elf," he said softly. Elrond smiled and turned around, feeling the child's small hands settle in his hair. He was feeling much calmer now. "Have you ever seen Cuiviénen?" asked Avon.
Elrond stopped himself from moving his head. "No, no one knows where Cuiviénen is. Some say that it is the Sea of Rhûn, for the east was not always a place of evil, but we can not be sure," he answered.
"I have seen the Sea of Rhûn!" exclaimed Avon. "Well, from the distance anyway. We traveled by it once when traveling under the Lady's orders to Lake Town for trade."
Elrond opened his eyes, becoming alert. He must be in Gondor then, eastward along the coast, for a more westward position along the coast would not find one passing by the lake traveling north. "Avon, can you tell me about your city?" he asked. "What is its name?"
Avon blinked as he picked up a cup and washed the apple blossom shampoo from the half-Elf's hair. "You do not know?"
Elrond sighed. "I know nothing except that I may thank Lord Dameon Xavier for bringing me here."
Avon stood and grabbed a towel. "Out you go before you wrinkle," he said playfully. He turned his head away as Elrond stood and accepted the towel. Avon kept his head averted as the half-Elf dried, going over to a large cabinet and opening it to reveal clothing inside. "Well, this is the city Tancdor of Gondor, on the west side of the Great River delta. It is under the ladyship of Meyana Trilee, a distant relative of the Steward. Dameon Xavier is her magistrate." Elrond listened, placing the city close to the Belfalas and disheartingly far from his home. Avon came back to the dressing table with clothing over his arm and shrugged at Elrond. "Besides that, there isn't much to tell." Elrond fell silent as he pondered, searching his memory for any useful information about this city. Almost automatically he dressed in a white shirt and trousers, a light blue tunic with short flower petal sleeves and a silver belt going over it. Avon placed an opal brooch at his throat and then settled a silk two-layered drape over his shoulders, the short top layer scrolled with delicate silver threads.
Avon then took his hand and guided him back out into the bedchamber. There they found a woman just finishing cleaning up the overturned food cart. "Momma!" cried Avon. The woman looked up and blinked as she saw Elrond. She had the same light brown hair as her son's and wore a maid uniform. Avon released Elrond's hand and hurried to the woman, receiving a hug. Elrond, fatigued even after the refreshing bath, sat in the nearest chair and watched the greeting. "Momma, it's true what Poppa said! Lord Dameon did bring an Elf into the estate!" exclaimed Avon.
Avon's mother was busy staring at Elrond, who met her amazed gaze with a small smile. "Oh my," breathed the woman.
"Mae govannen, Lady. I am Lord Elrond of Imladris," said Elrond, fighting back a yawn.
"Told you he was beautiful," whispered Avon, Elrond being able to hear him with his Elven abilities.
The woman dropped into a deep curtsey and bowed her head. "I am honored, Lord Elrond. My name is Iylle, mother to Avon."
Elrond stood and crossed the room to her, softly using two fingers to drew her chin up. A trace of fear still lingered in Elrond's grey eyes as Iylle looked at him. "You have no need to bow so to me, Lady Iylle. Your son is a blessing upon this land and I am forever indebted to your family," he said.
Another look of awe overcame Iylle again and Elrond released her. She looked at her son in confusion. "Avon, what happened?" she asked.
Avon folded his arms and made a disgusted look. "Theron was being a big jerk and tried to attack King Elf. I had to stop him."
Elrond touched his shoulder with a smile. "And that, my young champion, is why I am indebted to you and your family. I will never forget the bravery you showed in saving me." Avon beamed and the half-Elf stroked his cheek softly.
"Lord Elrond, you seem to be tired. Would you not like to rest for a while?" asked Iylle.
Avon nodded and grabbed Elrond's hand again, leading him to the bed. "Yes, King Elf, you should rest. It will do you some good," he said enthusiastically.
Elrond sat upon the bed, trying hard to keep the fine tremble from his body. "I will take your advice and rest, young champion." The boy blushed as Elrond lay down, settling against the soft sheets and pillows. Small hands stroked back his dark hair and pulled up a blanket to cover him as Elrond began to drift, falling into exhausted sleep. His last sight before he fell into the void was of Iylle and Avon hugging.
Author: Reona
Email: reona32@aol.com
Archive: Peredhil, Library of Moria, Melethryn Archive, Fanfiction.net. Others-be my guest; just tell me.
Part: 2/5
Fandom: LotR
Pairing(s): Glorfindel/Elrond
Rating: R
Summary: Elrond is kidnapped by humans for his skill in reading runes. But the secret those runes tell could destroy the world.
Disclaimer: I don't own LotR. I do own this story and any odd characters that show up.
Warning: Attempted rape. I'm not nice to poor Elrond in this.
Authors Note: Uial is my creation; he's Elrond's horse. I'm guessing at the Elvish and so are you.
Ai Elbereth, berio nin ned i emih - Oh Elbereth, protect me during the dark time
Something soft pillowed his aching head but the bright light no longer burned at his eyes and the motion of a moving horse was absent. Elrond carefully opened his eyes and saw the blue canopy of a bed above him. Slowly turning his head, he found himself abed in a square room. Along the left wall were three tall windows, the bright sun dimmed with heavy blue curtains. Across from the bed was a single door, opened to a bathing chamber. To the right was a sitting area and another door, this one closed.
Upon the small table next to the bed was a glass of water and a pitcher. A dry cough escaped Elrond and he carefully began to sit up in the bed. He noticed that his outer robe had been removed from him, leaving him in his long tunic and trousers. When the half-Elf succeeded in sitting up in the bed he picked up the glass and greedily drank the cool liquid, soothing his sore throat. His body wasn't overly sore but his limbs still responded sluggishly to his mind's commands. He returned the glass to the table and rubbed a hand across his forehead, finding that his mithril circlet was gone. Quickly, his hands flew to the braid at the back of his head and found that the butterfly clasp he had been wearing was also gone. Tears gathered in his eyes for a moment; the mithril silver clasp had been a gift from his twin brother long ago. He felt no need to check for Vilya, he knew that no other but himself could ever remove her from him.
Wiping at his tears, he found that his face was dirt stained. How far had his captures traveled before he had been delivered here? They had obviously kept him unconscious for the trip, his only memory being that faint time upon the horse. He looked around the room again but he was indeed alone. Pushing back the covers, Elrond slowly turned on the bed and placed his feet on the wooden floor. Although this caused some discomfort as he forced his body to cooperate, he was able to stand from the bed with some aid from the table. The half-Elf hung onto the bedposts as he walked around the bed and headed for the windows. He made it to the first window without problem and drew away the curtains. The sudden light from the sun caused a stinging pain to form behind his eyes, now sensitive from the drugs. He closed his eyes and turned his head away, hiding his face in the cloth hanging. Slowly, letting his eyes adjust, Elrond drew his eyes away and looked out the window.
A city lay out before him, red terra cotta roofs spreading off into the distance until the sharp green of farmland began. Elrond tried the window latch and found that it opened easily. Fresh sea scented air blew into his face, although he could not see the ocean from the direction he was facing. Leaning out slightly, Elrond looked downward into a stone courtyard four stories below. Vertigo assaulted Elrond, the world twisting harshly, and he grabbed a hold of the curtain, pulling himself back. Burying his face into the cloth again, he waited for the dizzy sensation to leave him. Afterward, he moved away to open the other curtains, letting the sunlight in but being careful not to look out. There was no escape that way, there were no trees to climb and he would never be able to make that jump without injuring himself.
He searched the room, finding similar windows in the bathing chamber and that the other door was locked solid. He found his russet outer robe and his boots draped over a chair and dawned them again. His clip and circlet were not there, much to his sorrow. He suspected that his captures had taken them for the price they would bring, both ornaments being made of expensive mithril. He quickly found that all the draws of the furniture were also empty and the servant passages remained hidden. Sighing, Elrond lowered his tired body into a chair and settled to wait. There was nothing more he could do.
Some minutes later, the door swung open and banged against the wall. Elrond startled at the sound and stood. Two men entered the door, one staying at the threshold and the other striding toward the half-Elf. Both wore dark red coats of brocade cloth and heavy boots. Their skin was dark, telling of long hours in the sun, and swords hung at their waists. Elrond drew back a little, glaring at the man coming toward him. "I demand to know who is in charge here!"
The man grabbed Elrond's arm, pulling him forward roughly. "As you wish," the guard laughed. The man at the door laughed lowly as his comrade drew Elrond from the room and closed the door after them. The man set a swift pace down the hall but Elrond's limbs were still sluggish, fighting off the last of the drugs. "Keep up!" growled the man. Elrond gritted his teeth and was forced to hold on to the guard least a hurried trip down some stairs make him fall. He doubted his escort would catch him before he tumbled down the steps. The grip on his arm tightened and Elrond feared that he would have a bruise where the man held him.
They turned into a gallery hallway, many paintings of men upon the wall and tall windows opposite. Elrond turned his head away from the light as his eyes burned again and almost tripped as the man turned quickly. He was led into a study and the man pushed him down into a chair before a wide desk. The man smirked at him, cocking an eyebrow, and turned swiftly on his heel. He closed the double doors sharply and Elrond heard the clicking sound of a key in the lock.
Elrond rubbed at his sore shoulder, the pain shooting across his neck and down his spine. The desk he sat before was empty, the tall chair behind it absent of any person. Beyond that was a large window, from which Elrond finally saw the ocean. He wondered how far east or west upon the coast he was. Shelves filled with books and scrolls covered the walls and a large glass case stood to his right. "I must apologize for my guard's behavior," came a smooth voice. A man stepped out from behind the chair and turned toward Elrond. This man had sandy blond hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He wore a fine blue waistcoat and tailored pants, an etched glass of some dark liquid in his hand. "They do not met Elven royalty often and do not know how to give proper respect."
Elrond stiffened and folded his hands neatly in his lap, becoming lord of Imladris in a heartbeat. "I am not king of the Noldor, sir. I rejected the crown at the end of the First Age." he replied calmly. The man did not even blink at his rebuttal. "I would, however, like to know why I am here. A simple invitation would have sufficed."
The man smiled and Elrond felt his skin crawl. "King or not, Lord Elrond, I do have some use for you," the man replied, sitting down in his chair.
Elrond narrowed his eyes at him. "What makes you think I will help you after being dragged half across Arda?" he said with anger dripping in his voice. Although he knew not where he was exactly, a trip from Lothlórien to the coast was a long one.
The man chuckled. "What makes you think you have any choice in the matter?" If he hadn't already hated him, Elrond would have loathed him for those words alone. He despised this type of person, conceited and arrogant. "My name is Lord Dameon Xavier and I have brought you here to read something for me."
"Read it yourself," replied Elrond.
Dameon lifted his glass to the light and swirled the red liquid. "You do not understand, Lord Elrond. This is not a collection of Númenórë writings or even your lovely Tengwar scripts. No, this is something far greater. But, alas, it is in a language no other can read." The human lord paused and took a sip of his drink. "Which is why I need your skill at reading runes, Lord Elrond, to decipher the script and unlock its secrets," he continued.
Elrond shook his head; there was no way he would help this human get anything. A dead weight settled in his chest at the thought of this man obtaining any of the old knowledge that might exist in the world. "I'm afraid I must decline my help, Lord Dameon," he said, disgust on his tongue.
Dameon smiled as if amused. "Again, you seem to think you have a choice," he said with mirth in his voice. He picked up a small silver bell on the corner of his desk and rang it. After a moment another human came in the door, this one also with sandy blond hair but no beard. He didn't wear the garb of the guards but wore a short blue brocade jacket over a shirt and pants. "My son," greeted Dameon. "Please take Lord Elrond back to his room and see that he is made ready for our little outing tonight." Dameon smiled at Elrond as the younger human walked toward them with a nod. "We must go at night, Lord Elrond. Must be hush hush and all."
Elrond almost yelped in pain as Dameon's son grabbed his sore arm and yanked him from his chair. He was pulled painfully out of the room and back down the gallery. The trip up the stairs almost twisted Elrond's ankle, hanging awkwardly from the man's grip. The human was grumbling something under his breath, some of which Elrond was able to understand. His words revealed that the man did not have a very high opinion of Elves. They neared the door where the two guards from before were standing and Elrond almost sighed in relief. The rough handling was making his body ache horribly and his head was beginning to pound. The two guards in red coats opened the door as they saw them approach. Suddenly, the man holding Elrond spun him around and backhanded him across the cheek. He then pushed Elrond through the open doorway and the half-Elf fell to the floor with a cry of pain. "Damn Elf! You just do as you're told!" yelled the man. The door slammed closed before Elrond could lift his spinning head from the floorboards and he was left alone in the room.
Some laughing sounded from outside the door and Elrond found his opinion of everyone in this house falling to the pits of Mount Doom. Slowly, he rolled onto his knees, one hand rising to cup his stinging cheek. He fought back tears as he carefully pushed himself up and made his way to a couch. A small flash of pain from his hip caused a tiny whimper in his throat as Elrond sat upon the couch. Elrond gently touched the corner of his lips and winced. He was in a bad situation; he was in the possession of an obvious insane man and his homicidal son who seemed bent on making him bleed. He would not give Dameon Xavier what he wanted, his inner fëa told him that if the man achieved what he wished then the world would be in danger. A band of ice formed around Elrond's heart and he closed his eyes as he felt his spirits drop.
The door opening caused Elrond to quickly open his eyes and he tensed. A cart entered the doorway, followed by a willowy young child in a faded green tunic and torn pants. The child could not have been more than 12 years old and had light brown hair that hung limply around his face. He stopped in the threshold and stared at Elrond, as if the half-Elf were something amazing. The child then jerked forward, as if pushed from behind. He glared over his shoulder and continued into the room. From behind him came the first guard, the one that had taken Elrond to Dameon's study earlier. The guard closed the door and stood by it, his arms folded across his chest and fixing a sneer at Elrond. The young human child walked toward Elrond and stopped the cart near him. "Hi!" he chirped happily. "I'm Avon and I'm supposed to see that you eat, King Elf."
Elrond dredged up a smile for the child, mentally taking back his opinion about everyone in the house. "I'm no king, young one," he said.
The child smiled brightly at hearing him speak and began to lift the silver dome covers from the food. "Well, you're a king to me. I hope you're hungry, King Elf, because I've got lots of food for ya. Mommas' a really good cook," Avon said. The guard snorted and Avon glared at him. "Not a word out of ya, Theron."
Elrond looked between the child and the man. He quickly lowered his eyes as the guard grinned at him nastily. Truthfully, even the thought of food made his stomach turn, probably another affect of being drugged for so long. "Thank you, Avon," he replied. Hesitantly, wearily watching the guard Theron, he picked up a spoon and dipped it into what appeared to be tomato soup. Some bread and cool juice later, Elrond knew he could eat no more and wiped at his mouth, careful of the tender bruise he could already feel forming on the side of his face. He looked up to find that Avon was staring at him, a look of awe once again on his youthful face. "What is it?" he asked.
Avon coughed a little and lowered his eyes. "It's just that…well…you're so beautiful," he muttered.
Theron chuckled and pushed himself away from the wall. "Yeah, Elf, you're real pretty," he agreed.
Avon frowned at the guard as he came nearer. "Put a sock in it, Theron," the child said.
Theron growled at him. "Mind your elders, kid."
"You aren't my elder!" exclaimed Avon. Theron pushed the child away with a grunt and grabbed Elrond's wrist.
"Unhand me!" ordered Elrond. Theron laughed and yanked him up off the couch, upsetting the cart and causing it to overturn. The loud crash drowned out the thump that sounded as Theron pushed Elrond against the wall, pinning him. Elrond's grey eyes widened as Theron broke the tie of his robe and pushed it off his shoulders. "Stop!" Fear turned his blood to ice and Elrond tried to buck the guard off of him, finding himself held firmly against the wall.
Theron laughed and leaned in to lick the half-Elf's cheek. Elrond almost threw up in disgust. "Pretty Elf," muttered Theron. The guard ground himself forward and Elrond cried out as he felt the man's arousal against his hip. Theron tugged uselessly at the sash around Elrond's waist, unable to free the folded cloth.
Avon came up behind them, his eyes hard, and grabbed the bottom of Theron's coat. "Theron, stop!" he yelled.
The guard hissed a curse and pushed the child away again. "Keep your mouth shut!" Finding the grip upon him loosened, Elrond pushed forward and escaped Theron. The Man yelled in anger and lunged for him, catching Elrond around the legs and bringing both of them to the floor.
"Get off!" screamed Elrond, kicking his leg up. Theron grunted in pain as the half-Elf's foot connected with his knee and slapped Elrond in the face. Avon started yelling for the guards as Theron pulled himself up to straddle Elrond's hips. Tears leaked from Elrond's eyes as the guard groaned above him, the man rotating his pelvis against the half-Elf. A dagger blade flashed in the light and Theron cut away the sash around Elrond's waist, clawing at the collar of his tunic. Elrond sobbed as he heard the fabric rip, baring his shoulder. "No…stop," he muttered. Elrond pushed against him but the force was not enough to move the Man, the half-Elf's body still affected by the drugs.
Theron began to thrust his crotch against Elrond's hip, leaning down to bite at the pale skin of his shoulder. "So…beautiful…" the guard grunted, lust darkening his eyes. Theron suddenly screamed in pain and his head bowed back. Avon cursed and yanked again on the guard's hair, yelling all the while. "You little brat!" The child ducked the blade of the dagger and was able to use the guard's momentum to push him off of Elrond. The half-Elf rolled away, curling against the footboard of the bed.
The door burst open as Theron turned toward Avon and a booming voice echoed in the room. "What is going on here?" yelled Dameon. Elrond flinched at the sound and hugged himself, bowing his head until his long hair hid his face.
Avon moved until he was standing in front of the huddled Elrond, glaring at Theron. "Theron tried to attack him!" he accused.
Dameon's cold eyes took in the ruined clothing around the room and he sneered. "You fool!" he screamed. The human lord stormed toward Theron, who had paled at his entrance, and backhanded the guard. "If you've injured him I will have your head!" Dameon turned toward where Elrond was and neared him.
Avon quickly stood in his way and bowed low to the human lord. "Please, my lord, I will see to the Elf. His injuries are not grave. I will look after him," pleaded the child.
Dameon sneered, anger in his eyes, and turned on his heel. "You had better!" he growled. "I want him ready for tonight or you will see the lash come morning!" His son stood in the doorway and Dameon pointed at him. "Jalen, see that this piece of scum is taken to the brig!" The human lord stormed to the door. "And see that this mess is cleaned up!" he ordered, seeing the overturned food cart.
Jalen bowed quickly, lowering his eyes as Dameon went out the door. "Yes, father," he said. As the human lord's heavy footsteps echoed down the hall Jalen raised his eyes and sneered. "You heard Lord Dameon!" he yelled. "Take him to the brig and have a maid come to clean the room!" Theron was hustled from the room, the guard yelling at Avon, throwing curses at the child.
Jalen pushed the other guards from the room, sneering over his shoulder at where Avon and Elrond were. "Damn Elves…" Elrond flinched as the door slammed shut, leaving the room in a heavy silence. The half-Elf remained huddled against the footboard, tears falling down his cheeks under his hair. His torn tunic hung down his right shoulder, showing a livid set of teeth marks where Theron had bitten him in his sick passion. His stinging cheek was a molted green and brown color where he had been hit twice, his advanced healing ability allowing the bruise to deepen in color so quickly. Terror, anger, and humiliation twisted within his chest, making his throat burn and his limbs tremble. Avon's soft caress to the crown of his head only made him flinch again, unable to bear even the touch of someone wishing to comfort him.
Avon drew his hands away when he saw the half-Elf flinch, tears of regret that anyone could treat such a beautiful creature so harshly in his eyes. "I'm sorry, King Elf," he whispered. Avon stood helplessly next to him for a few minutes until turning and entering the bathing chamber. Vaguely, Elrond heard the sounds of running water and Avon's quiet movements in the next room.
Some minutes later, Elrond's body gave one last shudder and his eyes finally focused on the floorboards. Slowly, feeling as if he were moving through mud, he raised one hand and wiped at his face, wincing as other sore places on his body protested. Lifting his head proved to be a bit harder but his hair finally fell away from his face. His sparkling eyes fell upon Avon, who stood by him with a robe in his hands. Elrond stared at him for a moment until recognition dawned. "Avon, my young champion, thank you."
Avon's face turned red with embarrassment. "Aw, I'm nothing special," he protested. "Couldn't just let him hurt ya like that."
A small smile came to Elrond's lips. "You are very special, Avon. Don't ever let anyone tell you that you are not. I own you a debt I may never be able to repay," he said.
A pleased smile covered Avon's face and he turned a deeper shade of red, if that was possible. "Would you like a bath, King Elf? It would do you some good," asked the child.
Elrond looked into the bathing chamber and saw the steam coming from the pool, his sore body longing for the warmth of the water. A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered the touch of that guard and wished to wash it from his skin, if not his mind. "A bath would be wonderful, young champion." This caused Avon's blush to renew itself and the child sheepishly handed Elrond the robe he carried. Elrond slipped the robe over his shoulders and used the footboard of the bed to slowly pull himself to his feet.
Dizziness attacked Elrond for a moment and Avon gripped his elbow as he saw the half-Elf sway. "Easy now," the child muttered. Together, they made it into the bathing chamber and Elrond was able to kneel on the stone besides the pool. Avon went to a dressing table while Elrond dipped his fingers into the water and found it to be at a pleasurable temperature. Avon returned to his side with a brush. "You're hair is all tangled," he said.
Elrond looked at the brush and frowned a little; he did not think his arms would allow him to brush his own hair. "Will you brush my hair for me?" he asked.
Avon's eyes widened with amazement. "You want me to brush you hair?" he echoed. Elrond nodded with a smile and Avon eagerly nodded his head. "I'd be honored, King Elf." The child moved behind Elrond and set the brush to his hair. Avon paused for a moment. "I don't want to hurt you," he muttered guiltily.
"You will not," replied Elrond. Avon bit his lip and carefully drew the brush downward. Several minutes later saw Elrond with his eyes closed in pleasure and Avon with a big grin on his face. Elrond's hair once again shone like black onyx set with stars.
Reluctantly, Avon stopped and returned the brush to the dressing table. The child stopped again and bit his lip, indecision on his face. "I will wait in the other room for you to finish," he said, thinking that Elrond would be uncomfortable undressing in front of anyone.
"Avon?" Elrond called softly. The child turned back again to see the half-Elf draw his hair over one of his shoulders. "I need your help. The buttons for my tunic are on the back and I cannot reach them." Elrond's voice was soft and a fine trembling shook his shoulders again.
Avon took a deep breath and approached the half-Elf again. "Okay," he said easily, placing himself behind Elrond. A row of mother of pearl buttons ran from the collar of the tunic to the small of the back. Gently, mindful of every body movement Elrond made, Avon undid the buttons. When he was finished, Avon backed away. "I'm done."
"Thank you," said Elrond softly. He waited until the child had turned away again to pull the tunic off his arms and then over his head, baring himself from the waist up. Another bruise peeked from under his trousers at his hip and one shoulder blade was red. Elrond bit his lip to keep a whimper back as he was forced to move sore muscles and mistreated limbs. He undid his pants and slipped them off, checking to make sure Avon was still looking away. He then unwrapped his loincloth and slipped into the pool, sighing in relief as the warm water engulfed him.
Avon peeked over his shoulder at the sound and found Elrond in the pool. "I didn't put in any scent because I didn't know what you liked," he said sheepishly.
Elrond cupped some water in his hands and splashed his face. "That is alright, I do not wish any," he replied. He cleaned the traces of tears from his face and gathered a cloth and soap from a basket on the edge of the pool. The half-Elf looked over his shoulder and saw that Avon had seated himself near the doorway, although facing away from the bathing pool. Elrond washed his body, careful of sore spots, and imagined he was washing away that man's touch. He saw it drain off into the pool and be forever taken away from him, leaving him clean once more. "Ai Elbereth, berio nin ned i emih," he whispered.
"What was that?" asked Avon. "It was beautiful."
Elrond smiled and washed some soap off. "A prayer for protection to Elbereth," he answered. He opened a bottle from the basket and sniffed it, smelling apple blossoms. The next bottle smelled of sage and heather.
"Elbereth?" echoed Avon, stumbling over the Elvish word. "That is your people's goddess, right?"
Elrond smiled, most people didn't even know that. "Yes, Elbereth is the queen of the Valar. She was said to have placed the stars in the sky to welcome us when we awoke at Cuiviénen."
"Cuiviénen?" asked Avon. Several times repeating it later with Elrond's help, Avon was able to get something close to the proper pronunciation.
"It means simply 'Water of Awakening' and it's the lake in Middle-Earth where the Elves awoke," answered Elrond. He paused, clutching the apple blossoms scented bottle in his hands. "Young champion, I fear I need your help again." Avon looked over his shoulder carefully. "I cannot wash my hair, just as I could not brush it. I will need you to do it," said Elrond.
The half-Elf kept his shoulders below the water line as Avon stood and came to the pool. The boy knelt at the edge and took the bottle. "I would be honored again, King Elf," he said softly. Elrond smiled and turned around, feeling the child's small hands settle in his hair. He was feeling much calmer now. "Have you ever seen Cuiviénen?" asked Avon.
Elrond stopped himself from moving his head. "No, no one knows where Cuiviénen is. Some say that it is the Sea of Rhûn, for the east was not always a place of evil, but we can not be sure," he answered.
"I have seen the Sea of Rhûn!" exclaimed Avon. "Well, from the distance anyway. We traveled by it once when traveling under the Lady's orders to Lake Town for trade."
Elrond opened his eyes, becoming alert. He must be in Gondor then, eastward along the coast, for a more westward position along the coast would not find one passing by the lake traveling north. "Avon, can you tell me about your city?" he asked. "What is its name?"
Avon blinked as he picked up a cup and washed the apple blossom shampoo from the half-Elf's hair. "You do not know?"
Elrond sighed. "I know nothing except that I may thank Lord Dameon Xavier for bringing me here."
Avon stood and grabbed a towel. "Out you go before you wrinkle," he said playfully. He turned his head away as Elrond stood and accepted the towel. Avon kept his head averted as the half-Elf dried, going over to a large cabinet and opening it to reveal clothing inside. "Well, this is the city Tancdor of Gondor, on the west side of the Great River delta. It is under the ladyship of Meyana Trilee, a distant relative of the Steward. Dameon Xavier is her magistrate." Elrond listened, placing the city close to the Belfalas and disheartingly far from his home. Avon came back to the dressing table with clothing over his arm and shrugged at Elrond. "Besides that, there isn't much to tell." Elrond fell silent as he pondered, searching his memory for any useful information about this city. Almost automatically he dressed in a white shirt and trousers, a light blue tunic with short flower petal sleeves and a silver belt going over it. Avon placed an opal brooch at his throat and then settled a silk two-layered drape over his shoulders, the short top layer scrolled with delicate silver threads.
Avon then took his hand and guided him back out into the bedchamber. There they found a woman just finishing cleaning up the overturned food cart. "Momma!" cried Avon. The woman looked up and blinked as she saw Elrond. She had the same light brown hair as her son's and wore a maid uniform. Avon released Elrond's hand and hurried to the woman, receiving a hug. Elrond, fatigued even after the refreshing bath, sat in the nearest chair and watched the greeting. "Momma, it's true what Poppa said! Lord Dameon did bring an Elf into the estate!" exclaimed Avon.
Avon's mother was busy staring at Elrond, who met her amazed gaze with a small smile. "Oh my," breathed the woman.
"Mae govannen, Lady. I am Lord Elrond of Imladris," said Elrond, fighting back a yawn.
"Told you he was beautiful," whispered Avon, Elrond being able to hear him with his Elven abilities.
The woman dropped into a deep curtsey and bowed her head. "I am honored, Lord Elrond. My name is Iylle, mother to Avon."
Elrond stood and crossed the room to her, softly using two fingers to drew her chin up. A trace of fear still lingered in Elrond's grey eyes as Iylle looked at him. "You have no need to bow so to me, Lady Iylle. Your son is a blessing upon this land and I am forever indebted to your family," he said.
Another look of awe overcame Iylle again and Elrond released her. She looked at her son in confusion. "Avon, what happened?" she asked.
Avon folded his arms and made a disgusted look. "Theron was being a big jerk and tried to attack King Elf. I had to stop him."
Elrond touched his shoulder with a smile. "And that, my young champion, is why I am indebted to you and your family. I will never forget the bravery you showed in saving me." Avon beamed and the half-Elf stroked his cheek softly.
"Lord Elrond, you seem to be tired. Would you not like to rest for a while?" asked Iylle.
Avon nodded and grabbed Elrond's hand again, leading him to the bed. "Yes, King Elf, you should rest. It will do you some good," he said enthusiastically.
Elrond sat upon the bed, trying hard to keep the fine tremble from his body. "I will take your advice and rest, young champion." The boy blushed as Elrond lay down, settling against the soft sheets and pillows. Small hands stroked back his dark hair and pulled up a blanket to cover him as Elrond began to drift, falling into exhausted sleep. His last sight before he fell into the void was of Iylle and Avon hugging.