Chapter Five: Alien Familiarity
Imladris drew ever closer. Gandalf was beginning to think that he would reach Rivendell before he ran into a patrol, but still he kept his eyes alert.
No patrol stopped him. He had safely made it to Elrond's realm. A short sigh of relief came from his mouth as he stopped Shadowfax and dismounted in one fluid motion. The wizard checked on his small charge; no worse for wear, but no better either.
Lord Elrond appeared before Gandalf had made it up to the Last Homely House. "We saw you coming. Come, we need get him inside."
Gandalf nodded and followed the Elven Lord into his home.
"Who is he?" Elrond asked looking over his shoulder at Gandalf.
Gandalf looked down at the form in his arms, thin, pale and once the bearer of much beauty and nobility. "I believe this is the Lost Prince."
Elrond stopped dead in his tracks, and spun around to face Gandalf. He looked from Gandalf's old and tired countenance to the eternally youthful one. "Surely this is not the Lost Prince…" Elrond trailed off, shook his head and continued at a brisker pace. "Regardless, he needs help."
They continued on for a few moments that started to feel long and oppressive until the trio finally reached a healing wing. Gandalf gently placed his burden down, and Elrond quickly set to work.
~*~*~
The horses were exactly where Aragorn had remembered them being. He hadn't been here in a long while, but his memories were still fond and he often wished he could visit more often.
But now was not a leisurely visit and there was no time to linger. He gathered two ponies and a steed, and with a final look to the stable and vast backyard, he headed back around to the front of the hut.
The hobbits stood waiting for him, he offered a small but (hopefully) reassuring smile, and let them pick which pony they would like to ride. Frodo choose a small brown and Sam a white.
They left as soon as the hobbits had picked their respective horses, and Aragorn spared only one glance to Gandalf's home. If one's home reflected the owner, Gandalf's most certainly did. Slightly worn, but trusty and surprising.
The thought made him think of his own home, and strangely enough the elf whom had caused their flight. He felt an odd familiarity toward him, but somehow distance.
A familiar alien.
~*~*~
Barliman Butterbur peeked around his door cautiously. It may have been the second biggest mistake he'd ever make. The first of course being letting Wazurk and the rest into the Prancing Pony at all.
Wazurk's head lurked in the doorframe, Butterbur tried to frantically close the door again, but a large booted foot had found its way into the crack. The door was flung backwards and Butterbur flew with its sudden fling and landed in a heap on the carpeted floor.
Wazurk and Oltrak strode into the room menacingly. Oltrak smiled at the Innkeeper with a mass of rotting teeth. The gesture sent shivers up Butterbur's spine.
"Where is my elf?" Wazurk asked, coming up and placing his foot over Butterbur's crotch. The Innkeeper squirmed slightly and glanced up at his assailants. Oltrak had made his way to just beside Butterbur's head.
"He's, in, in Strider's room…" Butterbur began. Quickly the foot came down. At first the pressure was slight, at the very least a bearable nuisance.
"Try again."
"If he's not in that Ranger's room, I don't know." The pressure increased a hundredfold, and the last of Butterbur's words came out as a howl.
"Wrong answer," Oltrak said bringing his foot colliding with Butterbur's temple.
A sickening crack rang through out the room and Butterbur went still.
~*~*~
His world was slow again. And something was upon him…
Eyes. Eyes were on him.
He could always tell. They seemed to burn at his flesh. Maybe bite was a better description. But he hated the eyes.
The way they bore into him, with disgusting looks of lust and power. He stayed still. If they thought he was asleep (or unconscious), they usually wouldn't do anything to him.
Usually.
~*~*~
"He needs rest," Elrond said as he took his eyes off his patient and lead Gandalf out of the room. For a long while, the two had sat beside the unknown elf just watching and waiting. The initial treatment didn't take long; it was a simple matter of mixing and delivering a small concoction.
That would keep him out of danger for a time. It was assured that he would not die from his grieving heart anytime in the near future, but it was not a cure and as soon as it wore off he'd be in danger of death again. The only thing that could heal a wound such as this was time.
Elrond had left his bruises and abrasions untreated for now. The elf didn't need to be poked and prodded, it could make things a great deal worse, and none of them were life threatening so they'd been left in good conscience.
Once they were safely out of the room, Elrond look to Gandalf. "Why do you believe him to be the Lost Prince?"
Gandalf looked thoughtful for a minute. "Who else could he be, Elrond? No other elf has been taken and…abused as such in this age."
"He has long been thought dead, Gandalf. Think of Thranduil…" Elrond trailed off as he thought of the Elven King. He'd been so crushed when he'd learned his son's fate, after most assumed the young prince had been killed. His wife had been unable to stay in Middle-earth, and she'd left for the West, for she and the child had been very close. Thranduil had received a double blow. The loss of both his child and wife.
"He would be happy to hear that his son lives, I think," Gandalf stated obstinately.
"I am not so sure. In his mind, his son is buried and it might be best not to resurface the body! It may not be as merry a reunion as you would think. You must remember his wife left because of the prince."
"Surely you are not implying King Thranduil would blame the him for that?"
"I am just saying it is a possibility."
"A very unlikely possibility."
"Before we reopen old wounds, we should at least find out the identity of this elf."
Gandalf sighed, but nodded. "We should let him rest for now."
Elrond agreed. "Yes, it would be best not to question him so soon."
~*~*~
He was inside. And on a bed.
A comfortable bed at that.
He opened his eyes slowly when he was sure there was no one else in the room. It was spacious and nicely decorated. Not over done, but…classy.
He had not been anywhere with class since, well, since before. The underlying scent was of medicines and herbs. It was oddly refreshing and he found himself breathing in huge amounts of air.
He sat up carefully, leaning at first on his elbows. He was still filthy and felt obscene in this beautiful room. Cautiously, he stood up.
His legs seemed to be working. That was usually a good sign. He stretched his muscles. Pulled his arms high over his head and stretched out his fingers. Rolled his shoulder blades and cracked his neck.
Somehow he felt alive.
He hadn't felt alive in longer than he'd been somewhere classy.
~*~*~
Glorfindel treaded softly to Lord Elrond's healing room with a green tunic and brown pants in his hands. He knocked softly, just in case the occupant was up and about, there would be no need to startle him by barging in. Elrond had told him to be cautious and not make any sudden movements. He'd also mentioned that Gandalf believed this to be the Lost Prince.
So that was how he'd made his color selections. If indeed this were the Prince he would feel at home in greens and browns. A silver eye appeared in a tiny crack in the door. Glorfindel watched on slightly perplexed. The door opened a bit more and dark head peeked out.
"You're an elf," a soft, slightly raspy voice said from the other side of the door.
"Yes, and so are you," Glorfindel said with a small smile. The door opened all the way and Glorfindel was greeted with the sight of the grimiest elf he'd ever seen. And that was including the twins.
The unknown elf stood leaning against the bed looking curiously at Glorfindel who offered a smile. "Hello. I have come to draw you a bath and treat the rest of those wounds."
"You are not going to chain me back up?"
Glorfindel shook his head. "Of course not. No one here is going to hurt you."
The other looked suspicious but humored Glorfindel with a nod.
Glorfindel smiled again. "This way."
He walked to a side room, the smaller elf following dutifully behind him. They came to a large tub, which was already filled with water. Elladan and Elrohir had volunteered to do so; they'd heated all the water themselves and poured it into the tub bucket by bucket. Quite the touching gesture, really.
"Go ahead and take that rag off," Glorfindel said glancing at the horrendous cloth still around the other's waist.
He took the cloth off slowly and slightly disappointedly. It was tossed softly to the floor and he raised his arms up slightly. "Do what you will then," he said casting his eyes downward. Perhaps this elf would be gentle.
"What?" Glorfindel looked shocked as he observed the painfully thin elf. Then it dawned on him. "No, no, I do not want to…Ai Elbereth." He looked at the other once more.
"I want not to…abuse you. Or touch you in any sexual way. No one else here does either. No one is going to touch you where you do not want, or make you do things you do not want. Understand?" Glorfindel stated gently, coming a bit closer to the naked elf.
He nodded curtly.
"Look up. I want to see your face. Your bath is getting cold," Glorfindel said smiling when indeed, the other looked up.
The other got into the tub carefully and blissful sigh escaped his lips, eliciting another smile from Glorfindel. "I am going to wait just outside, call me when you're done and we shall get you all fixed up."
The elf in the tub nodded and Glorfindel set the clothing he'd brought down and left the room shutting the door behind him.
~*~*~
Warm. It was good to feel warm again, comfortable again.
He hadn't been in water since Wazurk had thrown a fit and literally thrown him into a lake. But that hadn't been like this. This was nice.
He could get used to this.
And his kindred! At least one other elf, a nice one too. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed other elves until he'd seen and spoke to another. A small smile crossed his lips and sunk back into the water.
He felt safe.
~*~*~
Glorfindel had gone about gathering up dressings and various herbs to treat the unknown elf's wounds. Now he sat outside the bathing room door with a book in his hands waiting for the other to call.
It had been a quite a while, but Glorfindel could understand that. It was quite obvious the elf hadn't bathed in a very long time and he would want to savor the water. No doubt there would be a ring around the tub. He laughed, at least he wouldn't have to attempt to clean that! He felt pity for the one who did.
The bathing room door creaked open beside him and that same silver eye peeked out. "Uhm. I have finished."
Glorfindel smiled and put down his book and picked up the supplies he'd previously gathered. The door opened a bit more and he walked in.
"I am just going to dress your wounds," Glorfindel said motioning to the things in his hands. The other nodded.
"Would you like to sit?" Glorfindel asked putting the various items down on a convenient table.
He nodded again and sat down in a chair beside the table.
The dressing of the wounds went quickly, for Glorfindel had a good patient who kept still. Some of the wounds were quite disturbing to the blonde elf but he kept his thoughts to himself. After he finished he smiled softly.
"All finished. I have got some new clothes for you," Glorfindel said motioning for the other to stand.
Glorfindel pointed out the clothes, and the other once more nodded.
"Thank you," he said softly inclining his head toward Glorfindel.
Glorfindel smiled once more. "Of course. I will wait outside for you again. Then the Lord of Imladris has requested to speak with you, and then dinner. Are you hungry at all?"
The other smiled. Something close to a recognition flashed in his eyes, it was the first time Glorfindel saw the look and it would be along while until he saw it again. "Am I in Imladris?"
Glorfindel nodded and the other smiled at him slightly shyly. "I shall be right out here when you're done."
He left the room again.
~*~*~
Imladris. He knew the word and the safety that was behind it, but not the why. All that he knew was that he was safe here. Haven came to mind, but he had no idea why.
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