Gilded Rose of the House of Gondolin
By Ellie in ElfPajamas
For disclaimer and other information (Genre, Rating, Summary, Advisories) see first chapter.
Chapter four: At Long Last, Vacation!
Erestor flopped onto the ground with a groan of pleasure. It felt so good to be off a horse's back! Glorfindel shook his head at his friend, mocking the advisor's delight in being on solid ground. Glorfindel dropped a pack near Erestor's head.
"I take it we camp here for the night." Glorfindel said, more stating a fact than asking.
Erestor only nodded.
Glorfindel flopped down on the ground to see what Erestor was staring at.
All that there was to see was the canopy of leaves far overheard.
"Dreaming, my friend?" Glorfindel asked.
"Yes...." Erestor said tentatively.
Glorfindel grinned wickedly.
"Let me guess, about a certain Mirkwood damsel?" Glorfindel teased.
Erestor sat up and looked down at Glorfindel, his silvery eyes wide in shock.
"What??? How do you know?" Erestor exclaimed.
The golden haired Elf on the ground just started to laugh, until Erestor punched him in the stomach. Faelon's words about staying in Erestor's good graces came back to Glorfindel in a rush as he tried to catch his breath.
"I take it that if I cross you this could be a quite painful vacation." Glorfindel teased.
"No, unless you tease me to distraction, this will be a peaceful hunting trip." Erestor growled.
Even he realized his attitude was funny, and they both had a decent laugh over it.
"So what are we going to hunt, Glor? Orcs? Spiders? White deer?" Erestor asked.
"Can't eat Spiders or Orcs, so I'd stick to the deer." Glorfindel said, being unusually serious. "We'll kill any malevolent beasties we should happen to encounter."
Erestor lay quiet for a moment, soaking in the soft sunlight that slipped between the leaves. It felt so good to be out alone with his best friend! But now that he was out in the wilds he wanted to see, his heart longed to be back amongst the merry Mirkwood Elves in Faelon's household. Melannen had seen them off that morning, which was a memory that Erestor was already eagerly reliving.
Glorfindel sighed contentedly.
"Glor? How does one go about courting a damsel?" Erestor asked quietly.
It was Glorfindel's turn to be shocked.
"Are you really that crazy about Melannen already??" Glorfindel exclaimed. "She's pretty, I know, but how much do you actually know about her?"
"Not much." Erestor ruefully replied. "Only what I could squeeze out of she, Calad, and Faelon."
Glorfindel flopped again.
This was too much too fast for his comfort. He felt like he was a bit too old for this, and almost wished that he hadn't been reborn. It was difficult to deal with the traditions of the Third Age. He would have just told the damsel he loved her, but of course nowadays it had to be more complicated than that. Glorfindel suddenly felt like an ancient artifact. And Erestor looked more like a child in his eyes. It was strange the things life could throw at you.
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Glorfindel sat with his knees pulled up to his chest. It had been a difficult day of hunting, Erestor had fallen into a pit that neither of them had noticed, and he himself had then proceeded to fall out of a tree into a scummy pond. He was a little sore, slightly bruised, and a bit humbled. Erestor was sound asleep on the other side of their little campfire. Asfaloth and Earen shuffled around near their masters. Glorfindel pulled his hood over his head and half-shut his eyes. He was much too old for this, much to old to have phobias that only children should. He shouldn't have such a fear of this beneficial element. But he did. He felt so frightened and alone, vulnerable and small, in the presence of a fire, regardless of its size. Even in Rivendell's Halls of Fire he was the Elf furthest from the fire. He'd held it in for so long, hidden the mesmerizing effects the dancing flames had on him, camoflaged the terror that the errant sparks held.
He was terrified of fire.
It was excusable, understandable. He'd been slain by a creature of fire, and it had scarred him mentally, if not physically.
Erestor had had sound reasons for lighting the small campfire. One, he was wet and wanted to wake up dry, two, humans were not too observant and might mistake the faintly glowing Elves for Orcs in the dark, three, Spiders were averse to being singed. Sound reasons all, but not sound enough for Glorfindel. He wasn't going to tell Erestor exactly why he was so opposed to the fire, he wasn't too sure of all the reasons himself. The firelight refracted off the clear membrane over Erestor's eyes, turning the silver depths a rainbow of hues. It wasn't so much beautiful as it was creepy.
Glorfindel himself had never quite gotten used to the idea of watching fellow Elves sleep. He could only imagine how strange it looked to a mortal. He sighed deeply. He blinked, and a scene seemed to emerge from the fire. Gondolin. He couldn't have looked away if he'd tried. He felt the familiar anguish of watching his home burn, of seeing the evil minions of Morgoth circle the city as though it was theirs. He remembered guarding the flank of the refugees so vividly, trying to keep them all from death. He didn't want to lose more of the meager remnant, he couldn't afford to lose more. It hurt too much already to have lost those that hadn't made it out.
He fought off the Goblins and Orcs bravely, desparate to keep the remnant safe. Then the Balrog came. Glorfindel's heart skipped a beat, and his mouth was dry with fear. He was afraid, but he knew he had to fight this beast anyway, he had to defeat it at all costs, he couldn't afford to lose. His weapons flashed in the light cast by the creature of flame, the golden haired Elf fought valiantly against the foe that was twice his size.
Asfaloth knew that Glorfindel was in trouble, and tried desparately to bring his beloved master's mind back to the present. He nudged Glorfindel's back and shoulders repeatedly, trying to get through to him. The frightened stallion's efforts were in vain. He put his ears back in annoyance, trying to think of another way to save his master. He looked to Erestor. Perhaps the cranky Elf could help. He nudged Erestor awake. Erestor woke up mumbling something that sounded like "Melannen?" Asfaloth got desparate, seizing the bewildered advisor's cloak in his teeth and forcing him to look at Glorfindel.
Glorfindel could feel the heat that radiated off of the Balrog, feel it drying out his skin. He knew that in was only a matter of time before the flames engulfed him, it was like being face to face with a blast furnace. In a last ditch effort, he drove a dagger into the beast, knocking it from the safe footing of the cliff, then blindly tried to scramble up the cliff. He felt it grab him by his hair, felt his neck snap back as it pulled him down with it into the abyss. He was falling, falling, falling....
Erestor gasped and quickly dove at Glorfindel, knocking the Elf backward and smothering the greedy flames that had begun to lick at his long golden hair.
Glorfindel gasped as previously dead Ecthelion leapt into view and pinned him to the cliff, throwing a cloak over his head.
Erestor summoned all his strength to hold struggling Glorfindel to the ground. He wasn't sure of what had happened, but he knew whatever it was had not been good. Glorfindel fought him like a wildcat.
"Glorfindel! Glorfindel! Listen to me! Oh Iluvatar, what in the name of the Valar is wrong with you?" Erestor cried, taking a fairly hard blow from Glorfindel's knee.
Glorfindel seized Erestor and momentarilly threw him off. Erestor held him down again, this time digging his fingers into Glorfindel's tunic.
"Do you need my help or do you want me to go away?" Erestor growled in frustration.
Glorfindel grabbed him and flipped him over, pinning him to the ground.
"Erestor?"
"Yes, Glorfindel, last time I checked that was my name."
Glorfindel lightly smacked his friend in the head with a rolled up cloak. The action brought his singed locks into his sightline.
Glorfindel sat down, suddenly realizing why Erestor had tackled him. He swallowed hard. He hadn't realized that he'd just stuck his head in the fire, and the fact that he'd done it without noticing it and he'd been awake at the time scared him.
"I'm sorry Erestor, I-I didn't mean to knee you in the stomach, I-I didn't know what was going on..."
Erestor saw the haunted look that surfaced in his friend's eyes and put his hand on the other Elf's shoulder.
"Don't give in to them Glorfindel. They are only memories, they cannot hurt you now."
"But they do." Glorfindel sighed. "I miss it, I miss my homeland, all the friends and comrades I lost, you understand, I know you do."
Erestor nodded slightly. He did understand, he too had lost much that was dear to him. He smiled softly as a memory of his mother came to his mind.
"What was she like?" Glorfindel asked quietly, almost seeing the raven haired she-Elf dance in his eyes.
"She was wonderful." Erestor said softly. "I owe her so much."
He plucked a blade of grass and twirled it in his fingers.
"She taught me so much."
"What's your fondest memory of her?" Glorfindel asked, in the back of his mind thinking of the first she-Elf he'd loved as well.
Erestor laughed softly.
"I guess I was about ten. One of the other Elves, he was a bit of a bully, and he picked on me all the time. He made the mistake of doing it in front of my mother one time, and almost didn't live to tell about it. He punched me, knocked me down, and kicked me, then my mother came running, her eyes blazing, her hair all streaming out, this frightening crazed look in her eyes. She jumped on that bully and beat him black and blue, telling him that if she ever caught him picking on me again, she'd come after him with her rolling pin." Erestor said. "What's yours?"
Glorfindel laughed.
"Mine? I was a teenager, and Ecthelion and I were playing near the Fountain in Gondolin. We were having a mock fight, sheathed swords and all. He backed me up to the base of the fountain, and I lost my balance and fell in. My mother was watching from a nearby friend's home, and she knew that I couldn't swim, which Ecthelion had forgotten. I was floundering in the basin of this fountain, drowning, and my mother jumps in, pulls me out, and gives me a sound spanking! I never messed around near water again until I learned to swim." Glorfindel laughed, then sobered a little. "That was the same fountain Ecthelion and the Balrog drowned in."
Erestor sighed.
"My mother was killed when Eregion fell."
Both sat in silence for a moment, Asfaloth sneezed all over the back of Glorfindel's cloak.
Erestor stood and doused the fire, and noticing Glorfindel's puzzled look, he said;
"A fire many times brighter burns in your heart, my friend. You don't need any competition."
With that Erestor wrapped up in his cloak, laid down on the soft forest leaflitter, and went back to sleep.
"Thank you, Erestor." Glorfindel whispered.
He was soon asleep as well.
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The sun woke before the two Elves did. She smiled down on them, warming their sleepy bodies with her golden rays, enjoying as the light reflected off the soft golden hair of the gilded rose that lay on the ground so near the one whose hair was so black it reflected light in a deep shade of blue. Erestor was first to stir, and that was because Earen was nudging him. A massive white buck stood in the center of the camp. For a moment Erestor was shocked. But not too shocked to down it. It was a quick, clean kill, and the soft thump of the deer hitting the ground woke Glorfindel.
"Erestor! You did it! You downed a trophy white buck!" the half awake Elf exclaimed. "Wait until Melannen sees this!"
Erestor blushed, thinking the same thing.
"I'm sure Faelon would mount it for you, that's a trophy worth showing off."
"We'll swing by there this afternoon, maybe you'll get your kill before then." Erestor said, walking over to the carcass to admire the spread of the antlers. "What a lucky break! It really isn't often I get lucky, you know."
Glorfindel chuckled.
"I know. I don't exactly help matters, do I?" he teased.
Erestor laughed and set about tying the buck's limbs together.
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Two happy hunters rode into Faelon's courtyard that afternoon with fine trophy bucks slung across their horse's haunches. Faelon agreed to have the trophies mounted, Innas was skilled at the task and he would do it.
This time as they rode back out the gate, it was understood that they would be returning to Rivendell after a few more days hunting. Faelon wished them well and sang that strange song again as they left. Glorfindel now understood it to be a song of protection, but the words were lost to him.
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Two exhausted Elves were sacked out side by side. A thunderstorm would not have woken them. They'd spent the entire afternoon chasing deer, and they were spent. There was no campfire this night, Glorfindel's incident with fire the night before had seen to that.
Twelve bearded figures walked carelessly through the dark forest. They were merry with mead, they heeded nothing. They didn't notice the sleeping Elves until they stepped on Erestor. Erestor looked up in surprise, his eyes meeting the rheumy eyes of a very drunk dwarf. He kicked Glorfindel to wake the unsuspecting Elf. Elves and Dwarves were no great friends. As Glorfindel stirred and asked Erestor what was wrong, a dwarf struck him hard on the back with the flat side of his axe. The harsh laughter of the drunken Dwarves filled the clearing as Glorfindel cried out. Erestor reached for the sword in his belt. He was reluctant to do this, it was one thing to kill Spiders with it, it was entirely another to be killing dwarves.
"Get away from him." Erestor said softly, unsheathing the bright weapon.
The dwarves sneered at the dark-haired Elf.
"And just what do you think you're going to do against the twelve of us?" asked the head dwarf, looking pleased with himself.
Two dwarves jumped Erestor from behind and wrestled him to the ground. He heard them hit Glorfindel again and hoped that the golden haired Elf's gasp had nothing to do with mortal wounds and broken bones. The dwarves were really too drunk to understand that they were beating two Elves who had done nothing to them. Erestor felt tears of shame burn his eyes. He should have heard the dwarves, this should not have happened. The dwarves had heavy fists, and they were not merciful with them. Before they were finished Erestor's nose and mouth were bloodied and Glorfindel didn't look any better. Glorfindel graced one dwarf with a defiant, savage gaze, only to be repaid with a blow to the jaw. Erestor was shocked to see the advisor crumple to the ground. He did something he never thought he'd do. He bit the nearest dwarf. The dwarf howled in pain, releasing his grip on Erestor's shoulder. The enraged Elf wrested an axe from a nearby dwarf and swung it around at them.
"Be gone or be dead! Your choice!" Erestor growled.
His jet black hair wafted about his face, giving him a savage appearance, the moonlight lent an icy glint to his silver eyes. He was not one to be toyed with.
The dwarves feared the effects of one their own weapons in the hands of an angry Elf and ran for their lives.
Erestor dropped the axe and ran to Glorfindel's side, dropping to his knees to check on his friend. Glorfindel was curled in on himself, a good defensive position. A bruise was blossoming on the underside of his jawbone where the dwarf's knuckles had made contact. He was out like a light. That blow had knocked him unconscious, and more than likely had given him a concussion.
Erestor cursed softly under his breath. He hated being out at night where dwarves were present. They were volatile creatures, senseless idiots when drunk. Elves weren't much smarter when they were drunk, but they were certainly less violent. He drew Glorfindel onto his lap and looked at the unconscious Elf's eyes. Glorfindel blinked at the unexpected brightness of the moonlight. Erestor sighed in relief.
"Not dead, only stunned, huh, Glorfindel?" Erestor teased.
Glorfindel rubbed his jaw.
"Oww, I hate dwarf fists!" he moaned.
Erestor stuffed a cloak under Glorfindel's head before getting up and out from under him.
"I can't believe we didn't hear them coming!" Erestor sighed.
"They shouldn't have been coming, only Faelon hasn't been able to station all the sentries on the borders yet. They've trespassed here for almost a thousand years now, it doesn't matter to them that he's come back." Glorfindel said matter-of-factly.
"I hope he gets around to it soon, it isn't fun to be snuck up on by dwarves in the middle of the night!" Erestor laughed softly.
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On a balcony, overlooking the woods, an Elf knew his spell had failed. His friends had come to harm, against his will. His eyes sought the shine of golden locks as the early morning sunlight filtered over the forest. Glorfindel's presence had been declared by sun on gold the past two mornings, would this one break pattern?
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Erestor stretched painfully. Bruised muscles were no joke. At least it hadn't rained. He sighed and looked over at Glorfindel. Glorfindel was peacefully asleep. It turned out that he didn't have a concussion, just a bruised jaw and a couple gooseggs. Erestor quietly set about putting breakfast together, occaisionally looking at Glorfindel and contemplating waking the gilded Elf. The sun did it for him. Her golden rays washed over Glorfindel, making his hair look like liquid gold. He stirred, reluctant to get up. But the sun urged him, brightening the clearing until he had to get up.
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The Elf on the balcony relaxed, seeing the shimmer of Elven gold, undimmed. He turned from the forest, whispering in a strange language.
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Glorfindel stopped talking and turned, listening intently. He'd heard a voice in the wind.
"What is it, Glorfindel?" Erestor asked, wondering why the conversation had been abruptly cut off.
"I heard a voice on the wind." Glorfindel said, puzzled. "It was a strange voice, familiar almost."
Erestor frowned.
"Have you noticed that Faelon sings songs in some wierd language? I've never heard it before." Erestor said. "I can't imagine where he learned it."
Glorfindel shrugged.
"Perhaps from Mithrandir. It sounds interesting though, did you hear the song about the dragon?" Glorfindel asked.
"Dragon? No, I don't think so. How do you know it's about a dragon?" Erestor asked. "Do you remember how it goes?"
"Elrond knows it. He says it's about a dragon. It goes like this:
Win dain a lotica
En val tu ri
Si lo ta
Fin dein a loluca
En dragu a sei lain
Vi fa-ru les shutai am
En riga-lint
Win chent a lotica
En val tu ri
Silota
Fin dein a loluca
Si katigura neuver
Floreria for chesti
Si entina
Lalala...
Fontina Blu Cent
De cravi esca letisimo
Lalala...
De quantian
La finde reve
Win dain a lotica
En val tu ri
Si lo ta
Fin dein a loluca
En dragu a sei lain
Vi fa-ru les shutai am
En riga-lint.*"
Erestor felt chills for a moment.
"What does it mean?" he asked.
"Elrond said it was something like in the darkness the dragon wakes, to a heart numbed with cold the dragon takes, with you at my side the dragon sleeps, on dragon wing your wishes will leap. It's an odd one really. It isn't in the extra language Faelon speaks, it's a different one he says he learned from someone, it's an ancient language. But that bugs me because I'm an Elf of the First Age and I don't understand that language, how does he?" Glorfindel mused.
"I get the feeling that there's a lot about Faelon we don't know, and not all of it is good." Erestor said darkly. "I'm beginning to think these woods are bewitched."
~~~Footnote~~~
* "Sora". Ancient Romanjii, cannot be fully translated. Not supposed to be Romanjii in this story, I chose it for its exotic sound and look.
By Ellie in ElfPajamas
For disclaimer and other information (Genre, Rating, Summary, Advisories) see first chapter.
Chapter four: At Long Last, Vacation!
Erestor flopped onto the ground with a groan of pleasure. It felt so good to be off a horse's back! Glorfindel shook his head at his friend, mocking the advisor's delight in being on solid ground. Glorfindel dropped a pack near Erestor's head.
"I take it we camp here for the night." Glorfindel said, more stating a fact than asking.
Erestor only nodded.
Glorfindel flopped down on the ground to see what Erestor was staring at.
All that there was to see was the canopy of leaves far overheard.
"Dreaming, my friend?" Glorfindel asked.
"Yes...." Erestor said tentatively.
Glorfindel grinned wickedly.
"Let me guess, about a certain Mirkwood damsel?" Glorfindel teased.
Erestor sat up and looked down at Glorfindel, his silvery eyes wide in shock.
"What??? How do you know?" Erestor exclaimed.
The golden haired Elf on the ground just started to laugh, until Erestor punched him in the stomach. Faelon's words about staying in Erestor's good graces came back to Glorfindel in a rush as he tried to catch his breath.
"I take it that if I cross you this could be a quite painful vacation." Glorfindel teased.
"No, unless you tease me to distraction, this will be a peaceful hunting trip." Erestor growled.
Even he realized his attitude was funny, and they both had a decent laugh over it.
"So what are we going to hunt, Glor? Orcs? Spiders? White deer?" Erestor asked.
"Can't eat Spiders or Orcs, so I'd stick to the deer." Glorfindel said, being unusually serious. "We'll kill any malevolent beasties we should happen to encounter."
Erestor lay quiet for a moment, soaking in the soft sunlight that slipped between the leaves. It felt so good to be out alone with his best friend! But now that he was out in the wilds he wanted to see, his heart longed to be back amongst the merry Mirkwood Elves in Faelon's household. Melannen had seen them off that morning, which was a memory that Erestor was already eagerly reliving.
Glorfindel sighed contentedly.
"Glor? How does one go about courting a damsel?" Erestor asked quietly.
It was Glorfindel's turn to be shocked.
"Are you really that crazy about Melannen already??" Glorfindel exclaimed. "She's pretty, I know, but how much do you actually know about her?"
"Not much." Erestor ruefully replied. "Only what I could squeeze out of she, Calad, and Faelon."
Glorfindel flopped again.
This was too much too fast for his comfort. He felt like he was a bit too old for this, and almost wished that he hadn't been reborn. It was difficult to deal with the traditions of the Third Age. He would have just told the damsel he loved her, but of course nowadays it had to be more complicated than that. Glorfindel suddenly felt like an ancient artifact. And Erestor looked more like a child in his eyes. It was strange the things life could throw at you.
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Glorfindel sat with his knees pulled up to his chest. It had been a difficult day of hunting, Erestor had fallen into a pit that neither of them had noticed, and he himself had then proceeded to fall out of a tree into a scummy pond. He was a little sore, slightly bruised, and a bit humbled. Erestor was sound asleep on the other side of their little campfire. Asfaloth and Earen shuffled around near their masters. Glorfindel pulled his hood over his head and half-shut his eyes. He was much too old for this, much to old to have phobias that only children should. He shouldn't have such a fear of this beneficial element. But he did. He felt so frightened and alone, vulnerable and small, in the presence of a fire, regardless of its size. Even in Rivendell's Halls of Fire he was the Elf furthest from the fire. He'd held it in for so long, hidden the mesmerizing effects the dancing flames had on him, camoflaged the terror that the errant sparks held.
He was terrified of fire.
It was excusable, understandable. He'd been slain by a creature of fire, and it had scarred him mentally, if not physically.
Erestor had had sound reasons for lighting the small campfire. One, he was wet and wanted to wake up dry, two, humans were not too observant and might mistake the faintly glowing Elves for Orcs in the dark, three, Spiders were averse to being singed. Sound reasons all, but not sound enough for Glorfindel. He wasn't going to tell Erestor exactly why he was so opposed to the fire, he wasn't too sure of all the reasons himself. The firelight refracted off the clear membrane over Erestor's eyes, turning the silver depths a rainbow of hues. It wasn't so much beautiful as it was creepy.
Glorfindel himself had never quite gotten used to the idea of watching fellow Elves sleep. He could only imagine how strange it looked to a mortal. He sighed deeply. He blinked, and a scene seemed to emerge from the fire. Gondolin. He couldn't have looked away if he'd tried. He felt the familiar anguish of watching his home burn, of seeing the evil minions of Morgoth circle the city as though it was theirs. He remembered guarding the flank of the refugees so vividly, trying to keep them all from death. He didn't want to lose more of the meager remnant, he couldn't afford to lose more. It hurt too much already to have lost those that hadn't made it out.
He fought off the Goblins and Orcs bravely, desparate to keep the remnant safe. Then the Balrog came. Glorfindel's heart skipped a beat, and his mouth was dry with fear. He was afraid, but he knew he had to fight this beast anyway, he had to defeat it at all costs, he couldn't afford to lose. His weapons flashed in the light cast by the creature of flame, the golden haired Elf fought valiantly against the foe that was twice his size.
Asfaloth knew that Glorfindel was in trouble, and tried desparately to bring his beloved master's mind back to the present. He nudged Glorfindel's back and shoulders repeatedly, trying to get through to him. The frightened stallion's efforts were in vain. He put his ears back in annoyance, trying to think of another way to save his master. He looked to Erestor. Perhaps the cranky Elf could help. He nudged Erestor awake. Erestor woke up mumbling something that sounded like "Melannen?" Asfaloth got desparate, seizing the bewildered advisor's cloak in his teeth and forcing him to look at Glorfindel.
Glorfindel could feel the heat that radiated off of the Balrog, feel it drying out his skin. He knew that in was only a matter of time before the flames engulfed him, it was like being face to face with a blast furnace. In a last ditch effort, he drove a dagger into the beast, knocking it from the safe footing of the cliff, then blindly tried to scramble up the cliff. He felt it grab him by his hair, felt his neck snap back as it pulled him down with it into the abyss. He was falling, falling, falling....
Erestor gasped and quickly dove at Glorfindel, knocking the Elf backward and smothering the greedy flames that had begun to lick at his long golden hair.
Glorfindel gasped as previously dead Ecthelion leapt into view and pinned him to the cliff, throwing a cloak over his head.
Erestor summoned all his strength to hold struggling Glorfindel to the ground. He wasn't sure of what had happened, but he knew whatever it was had not been good. Glorfindel fought him like a wildcat.
"Glorfindel! Glorfindel! Listen to me! Oh Iluvatar, what in the name of the Valar is wrong with you?" Erestor cried, taking a fairly hard blow from Glorfindel's knee.
Glorfindel seized Erestor and momentarilly threw him off. Erestor held him down again, this time digging his fingers into Glorfindel's tunic.
"Do you need my help or do you want me to go away?" Erestor growled in frustration.
Glorfindel grabbed him and flipped him over, pinning him to the ground.
"Erestor?"
"Yes, Glorfindel, last time I checked that was my name."
Glorfindel lightly smacked his friend in the head with a rolled up cloak. The action brought his singed locks into his sightline.
Glorfindel sat down, suddenly realizing why Erestor had tackled him. He swallowed hard. He hadn't realized that he'd just stuck his head in the fire, and the fact that he'd done it without noticing it and he'd been awake at the time scared him.
"I'm sorry Erestor, I-I didn't mean to knee you in the stomach, I-I didn't know what was going on..."
Erestor saw the haunted look that surfaced in his friend's eyes and put his hand on the other Elf's shoulder.
"Don't give in to them Glorfindel. They are only memories, they cannot hurt you now."
"But they do." Glorfindel sighed. "I miss it, I miss my homeland, all the friends and comrades I lost, you understand, I know you do."
Erestor nodded slightly. He did understand, he too had lost much that was dear to him. He smiled softly as a memory of his mother came to his mind.
"What was she like?" Glorfindel asked quietly, almost seeing the raven haired she-Elf dance in his eyes.
"She was wonderful." Erestor said softly. "I owe her so much."
He plucked a blade of grass and twirled it in his fingers.
"She taught me so much."
"What's your fondest memory of her?" Glorfindel asked, in the back of his mind thinking of the first she-Elf he'd loved as well.
Erestor laughed softly.
"I guess I was about ten. One of the other Elves, he was a bit of a bully, and he picked on me all the time. He made the mistake of doing it in front of my mother one time, and almost didn't live to tell about it. He punched me, knocked me down, and kicked me, then my mother came running, her eyes blazing, her hair all streaming out, this frightening crazed look in her eyes. She jumped on that bully and beat him black and blue, telling him that if she ever caught him picking on me again, she'd come after him with her rolling pin." Erestor said. "What's yours?"
Glorfindel laughed.
"Mine? I was a teenager, and Ecthelion and I were playing near the Fountain in Gondolin. We were having a mock fight, sheathed swords and all. He backed me up to the base of the fountain, and I lost my balance and fell in. My mother was watching from a nearby friend's home, and she knew that I couldn't swim, which Ecthelion had forgotten. I was floundering in the basin of this fountain, drowning, and my mother jumps in, pulls me out, and gives me a sound spanking! I never messed around near water again until I learned to swim." Glorfindel laughed, then sobered a little. "That was the same fountain Ecthelion and the Balrog drowned in."
Erestor sighed.
"My mother was killed when Eregion fell."
Both sat in silence for a moment, Asfaloth sneezed all over the back of Glorfindel's cloak.
Erestor stood and doused the fire, and noticing Glorfindel's puzzled look, he said;
"A fire many times brighter burns in your heart, my friend. You don't need any competition."
With that Erestor wrapped up in his cloak, laid down on the soft forest leaflitter, and went back to sleep.
"Thank you, Erestor." Glorfindel whispered.
He was soon asleep as well.
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The sun woke before the two Elves did. She smiled down on them, warming their sleepy bodies with her golden rays, enjoying as the light reflected off the soft golden hair of the gilded rose that lay on the ground so near the one whose hair was so black it reflected light in a deep shade of blue. Erestor was first to stir, and that was because Earen was nudging him. A massive white buck stood in the center of the camp. For a moment Erestor was shocked. But not too shocked to down it. It was a quick, clean kill, and the soft thump of the deer hitting the ground woke Glorfindel.
"Erestor! You did it! You downed a trophy white buck!" the half awake Elf exclaimed. "Wait until Melannen sees this!"
Erestor blushed, thinking the same thing.
"I'm sure Faelon would mount it for you, that's a trophy worth showing off."
"We'll swing by there this afternoon, maybe you'll get your kill before then." Erestor said, walking over to the carcass to admire the spread of the antlers. "What a lucky break! It really isn't often I get lucky, you know."
Glorfindel chuckled.
"I know. I don't exactly help matters, do I?" he teased.
Erestor laughed and set about tying the buck's limbs together.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two happy hunters rode into Faelon's courtyard that afternoon with fine trophy bucks slung across their horse's haunches. Faelon agreed to have the trophies mounted, Innas was skilled at the task and he would do it.
This time as they rode back out the gate, it was understood that they would be returning to Rivendell after a few more days hunting. Faelon wished them well and sang that strange song again as they left. Glorfindel now understood it to be a song of protection, but the words were lost to him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two exhausted Elves were sacked out side by side. A thunderstorm would not have woken them. They'd spent the entire afternoon chasing deer, and they were spent. There was no campfire this night, Glorfindel's incident with fire the night before had seen to that.
Twelve bearded figures walked carelessly through the dark forest. They were merry with mead, they heeded nothing. They didn't notice the sleeping Elves until they stepped on Erestor. Erestor looked up in surprise, his eyes meeting the rheumy eyes of a very drunk dwarf. He kicked Glorfindel to wake the unsuspecting Elf. Elves and Dwarves were no great friends. As Glorfindel stirred and asked Erestor what was wrong, a dwarf struck him hard on the back with the flat side of his axe. The harsh laughter of the drunken Dwarves filled the clearing as Glorfindel cried out. Erestor reached for the sword in his belt. He was reluctant to do this, it was one thing to kill Spiders with it, it was entirely another to be killing dwarves.
"Get away from him." Erestor said softly, unsheathing the bright weapon.
The dwarves sneered at the dark-haired Elf.
"And just what do you think you're going to do against the twelve of us?" asked the head dwarf, looking pleased with himself.
Two dwarves jumped Erestor from behind and wrestled him to the ground. He heard them hit Glorfindel again and hoped that the golden haired Elf's gasp had nothing to do with mortal wounds and broken bones. The dwarves were really too drunk to understand that they were beating two Elves who had done nothing to them. Erestor felt tears of shame burn his eyes. He should have heard the dwarves, this should not have happened. The dwarves had heavy fists, and they were not merciful with them. Before they were finished Erestor's nose and mouth were bloodied and Glorfindel didn't look any better. Glorfindel graced one dwarf with a defiant, savage gaze, only to be repaid with a blow to the jaw. Erestor was shocked to see the advisor crumple to the ground. He did something he never thought he'd do. He bit the nearest dwarf. The dwarf howled in pain, releasing his grip on Erestor's shoulder. The enraged Elf wrested an axe from a nearby dwarf and swung it around at them.
"Be gone or be dead! Your choice!" Erestor growled.
His jet black hair wafted about his face, giving him a savage appearance, the moonlight lent an icy glint to his silver eyes. He was not one to be toyed with.
The dwarves feared the effects of one their own weapons in the hands of an angry Elf and ran for their lives.
Erestor dropped the axe and ran to Glorfindel's side, dropping to his knees to check on his friend. Glorfindel was curled in on himself, a good defensive position. A bruise was blossoming on the underside of his jawbone where the dwarf's knuckles had made contact. He was out like a light. That blow had knocked him unconscious, and more than likely had given him a concussion.
Erestor cursed softly under his breath. He hated being out at night where dwarves were present. They were volatile creatures, senseless idiots when drunk. Elves weren't much smarter when they were drunk, but they were certainly less violent. He drew Glorfindel onto his lap and looked at the unconscious Elf's eyes. Glorfindel blinked at the unexpected brightness of the moonlight. Erestor sighed in relief.
"Not dead, only stunned, huh, Glorfindel?" Erestor teased.
Glorfindel rubbed his jaw.
"Oww, I hate dwarf fists!" he moaned.
Erestor stuffed a cloak under Glorfindel's head before getting up and out from under him.
"I can't believe we didn't hear them coming!" Erestor sighed.
"They shouldn't have been coming, only Faelon hasn't been able to station all the sentries on the borders yet. They've trespassed here for almost a thousand years now, it doesn't matter to them that he's come back." Glorfindel said matter-of-factly.
"I hope he gets around to it soon, it isn't fun to be snuck up on by dwarves in the middle of the night!" Erestor laughed softly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On a balcony, overlooking the woods, an Elf knew his spell had failed. His friends had come to harm, against his will. His eyes sought the shine of golden locks as the early morning sunlight filtered over the forest. Glorfindel's presence had been declared by sun on gold the past two mornings, would this one break pattern?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Erestor stretched painfully. Bruised muscles were no joke. At least it hadn't rained. He sighed and looked over at Glorfindel. Glorfindel was peacefully asleep. It turned out that he didn't have a concussion, just a bruised jaw and a couple gooseggs. Erestor quietly set about putting breakfast together, occaisionally looking at Glorfindel and contemplating waking the gilded Elf. The sun did it for him. Her golden rays washed over Glorfindel, making his hair look like liquid gold. He stirred, reluctant to get up. But the sun urged him, brightening the clearing until he had to get up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Elf on the balcony relaxed, seeing the shimmer of Elven gold, undimmed. He turned from the forest, whispering in a strange language.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Glorfindel stopped talking and turned, listening intently. He'd heard a voice in the wind.
"What is it, Glorfindel?" Erestor asked, wondering why the conversation had been abruptly cut off.
"I heard a voice on the wind." Glorfindel said, puzzled. "It was a strange voice, familiar almost."
Erestor frowned.
"Have you noticed that Faelon sings songs in some wierd language? I've never heard it before." Erestor said. "I can't imagine where he learned it."
Glorfindel shrugged.
"Perhaps from Mithrandir. It sounds interesting though, did you hear the song about the dragon?" Glorfindel asked.
"Dragon? No, I don't think so. How do you know it's about a dragon?" Erestor asked. "Do you remember how it goes?"
"Elrond knows it. He says it's about a dragon. It goes like this:
Win dain a lotica
En val tu ri
Si lo ta
Fin dein a loluca
En dragu a sei lain
Vi fa-ru les shutai am
En riga-lint
Win chent a lotica
En val tu ri
Silota
Fin dein a loluca
Si katigura neuver
Floreria for chesti
Si entina
Lalala...
Fontina Blu Cent
De cravi esca letisimo
Lalala...
De quantian
La finde reve
Win dain a lotica
En val tu ri
Si lo ta
Fin dein a loluca
En dragu a sei lain
Vi fa-ru les shutai am
En riga-lint.*"
Erestor felt chills for a moment.
"What does it mean?" he asked.
"Elrond said it was something like in the darkness the dragon wakes, to a heart numbed with cold the dragon takes, with you at my side the dragon sleeps, on dragon wing your wishes will leap. It's an odd one really. It isn't in the extra language Faelon speaks, it's a different one he says he learned from someone, it's an ancient language. But that bugs me because I'm an Elf of the First Age and I don't understand that language, how does he?" Glorfindel mused.
"I get the feeling that there's a lot about Faelon we don't know, and not all of it is good." Erestor said darkly. "I'm beginning to think these woods are bewitched."
~~~Footnote~~~
* "Sora". Ancient Romanjii, cannot be fully translated. Not supposed to be Romanjii in this story, I chose it for its exotic sound and look.