Everlasting

by Nili

When a short hunting trip near Rivendell takes a turn for the worst, Legolas and Aragorn are separated from their companions. While the two must make it back on their own, Elrond tries to save the life of a friend – who might not even want to be saved.

5. The Gates of Summer

Disclaimer: For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.


A/N:

Alright, I'll admit that I am a little late. The reason for that is either that I've been incredibly busy since arriving and have only just finished unpacking (which is rather sad, considering that I've only brought a single sports bag), or it's because I still haven't got over the shock of finding out that there is Bovril Powder. (Btw, I was only kidding when I said I liked Bovril. I hate that stuff. shudders) I know, I know, it's hard to believe, but true. I don't really know why I am even surprised. sad headshake

The most likely reason, however, is that my laptop doesn't like AOL 9.0 which I had to install to be able to go online, something I understand only too well. It took me nearly two days to sort the problem out, and the fact that the weather has been warm and sunny didn't really help either, to be honest. And yesterday, when I wanted to post, informed me that the document manager was offline "for repairs". It's a conspiracy, I swear it is. g

Be that as it may, now I have the time to post this last chapter. I'm sorry you had to wait for it; it truly wasn't my intention. shakes head sheepishly Blame AOL and , not me. g

It is, however, very nice to hear that you liked the Erestor-Elrond scene. That poor advisor isn't in enough stories if you ask me, and I am thinking about putting him into "A Sea of Troubles" together with a few other elves from this story, just to be fair. Glorfindel was in the last one, after all... watches Erestor run off in a mindless panic What's HIS problem? g


Alright, that's enough of my entirely useless comments, I'm sure that you are more interested in the last chapter. readers nod quickly Okay, I get it. Here is chapter 5, in which Aragorn and Legolas get back to Rivendell in a shape that, with a bit of imagination, could be called "alive", we meet Erestor's new arch enemy and Glorfindel and Elrond finally have that talk they should have had in chapter 1. And that's it, I think. g

Enjoy and review, please!

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Chapter 5


The sun was slowly rising over the valley of Rivendell, casting a soft, golden-red light over the deep gorge and the lands surrounding it. It was not exactly what one would have called a glorious day, but there were few clouds visible on the horizon and only a very soft breeze ruffled the canopies of the trees.

The two figures that were slowly making their way down a steep, winding path did, however, not care overly much for such things. It was questionable if either of them would have noticed if it had started to rain or hail, a blizzard might have been completely ignored and even a horde of three-headed ravenous flesh-eating squirrels could have appeared and performed a dance without them taking any notice of it.

One of the two, an elf with long blond hair, no shirt and a rather dark expression on his face stopped for a moment to orient himself, his eyes wandering over the path that was sloping downwards and disappearing around a tall tree to their right. After making sure that he was where he obviously expected himself to be he returned his attention to his companion, who looked as if the only thing keeping him upright and on his feet was the elf's arm that was slung around his middle.

"It's not much farther now," he told the dark haired, very, very pale man he was holding up. "Besides, we should meet a patrol or your brothers any time now."

The man didn't raise his head even an inch, but his eyelids fluttered open after some failed tries and he blinked tiredly.
"That's … what you said … two hours ago, Legolas."

"That is not true," the elf shook his head and began to move once more. "It was merely one hour ago, my friend."

Aragorn shook his head minutely, wincing openly when the movement inexplicably renewed the pain that was raging in his side.
"No … said it twice."

"I most certainly did not," the elf protested with mock indignation. "It is unbecoming a prince to repeat himself needlessly." He smiled slightly, something that did not diminish the worry in his eyes. "I may, however, have said something that sounded extremely similar."

The man didn't answer but smiled slightly, and Legolas was once again torn between the urge to sigh with relief and to start worrying even more. They had left the cave about three hours ago – or rather he had left the cave, since Aragorn hadn't truly been conscious at that time after having been ripped out of his slumber.

The first hour or so the man had been drifting somewhere between unconsciousness and waking, something about which the elf had been very glad. Even now, after two more hours of walking down this path, the man wasn't fully conscious, and Legolas didn't know if he should view this as something that would allow his friend to escape the pain and weakness he undoubtedly felt, even if only temporarily, or if he should get worried that Aragorn wasn't fully aware of his surroundings.

Legolas finally shrugged inwardly and gripped the man a little bit more tightly, deciding that there was nothing he could do anyway. He needed to get Aragorn back to Rivendell, now, and stopping again to let him rest a little bit more was out of the question, no matter how gladly he would have done it.

"Where is the next guard post, Aragorn?" he asked, anxious to at least try and keep the man awake and aware of his surroundings. "We passed the small beech wood next to the road half an hour ago. There should be one somewhere around here, I think."

Aragorn swallowed thickly as he vainly trying to get his surroundings into focus. For the past two hours he had been seeing everything double – which was in fact an improvement, at least compared to earlier this night. When he had awoken after Legolas had got him out of the troll-cave, he hadn't been able to see anything except large blobs without defined outlines.

For a moment he pondered Legolas' question, but after a few heartbeats he couldn't remember what it had been in the first place. His entire left side hurt as if someone had taken a handful of red-hot coals and had planted them inside of him, and the rest of him felt just like bodies usually did when they had been mistreated by a horde of four trolls.

"How did you find me?" he whispered softly, already having forgotten that Legolas had in fact asked him something.

Legolas frowned and wondered if he should repeat his earlier question, but quickly decided against it. It didn't truly matter anyway where the next guard post was. He would simply continue down this path; if there was a patrol or a guard post nearby, they would most certainly rather be spotted by them than the other way round.
"You mean after you were found by the trolls?"

Aragorn nodded, and the elf smiled weakly.
"That was not too hard to accomplish, my friend. You do not need the eyes of an elf to follow the trail of four trolls that are mindlessly stomping through the forest." He fell silent for a moment, carefully manoeuvring the two of them around the tree at the bottom of the path, and added, "How did they find you in the first place?"

Aragorn laughed wryly, or at least started to laugh since sharp pain shot through him almost instantaneously. If not for Legolas' supporting hands he would have doubled over, but while attempting to keep Aragorn on his feet, the elf's forearm knocked into his wounded left side. The collision was so brief that it would usually not have affected him at all, but now the short contact was enough to literally pull the ground out from under his feet.

The sky suddenly turned blinding white and then dark as night, and the next thing Aragorn knew was that he was lying on the ground, the sky spinning in wild circles above his head. There was someone talking to him, someone he should know, but the pain in his side was simply too strong to let him think about anything else. After an eternity, the pain had abated somewhat, at least to the degree where he could breathe more or less regularly without nearly passing out from the pain.

"…alright? Elbereth, answer me, reckless human? Estel! Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

"Do … I l-look … alright?" the man finally managed to gasp.

"Now that you ask, no, you do not," Legolas replied evenly, so relieved that he would have dropped to his knees if he hadn't been kneeling already. "I am sorry, Aragorn. I should have been more careful."

"Not … not your fault," Aragorn shook his head, still trying to get his breathing under control.

"No, of course not," Legolas answered sarcastically. "An invisible orc appeared, pushed me to the side, thrust its elbow into your wounded side and disappeared again before I could stop it." He nodded seriously. "You are right, these things happen all the time."

"E-Especially around here," Aragorn nodded faintly and squinted up at the elf's face that was hovering over his, seeming to be a foot and then again a mile away. "Now help me up."

Legolas apparently wanted to protest for a moment or two, but in the end he simply took the man's hands and pulled him to his feet. Aragorn turned even whiter as his position changed so abruptly, and he bit down on his lower lip so sharply that he tasted blood. Legolas either tactfully ignored the half-stifled whimper that escaped him nonetheless or hadn't noticed it while he was once again checking the bandages for fresh blood, and a few moments later the elf straightened up again, a tentative smile on his lips.

"Well, at least the bleeding hasn't started again," he told the man with more confidence in his voice than he rightly felt. "You might escape that writing exercise after all."

"Don't mention … that in front of … Erestor," the man shook his head firmly. "It might serve … to give him … i-ideas."

"Hmm," the elf shook his head as well, carefully starting to move again. "You might be right. Returning to Rivendell and having to write something like 'I am not supposed to go near orcs, trolls or wargs' in various fonts and languages isn't exactly what I would call entertaining."

Aragorn nodded minutely, but it was clear that he wasn't really listening.
"They … stumbled over me," he finally said slowly.

Legolas blinked and quickly chanced a look at his friend's face before he returned his attention to the path beneath their feet. 'Idiot,' a voice inside his aching head whispered accusatorially. 'You should have checked him for head injuries.'

"Who did, mellon nín?" he finally asked carefully.

"The trolls," the man retorted evenly.

"Oh," Legolas nodded relieved, remembering his earlier question. "I see."

"They came not long after … you had left," Aragorn recalled softly, trying to concentrate on speaking rather than on the pain in his body. "I tried to hide, but…" He trailed off and shook his head once again. "They came too close. I wasn't fast enough to run away, and … couldn't climb a tree."

"It wouldn't have changed anything if you had tried to climb a tree," Legolas shook his head as well, guilt eating at his heart. "They would simply have shaken you out of it and you would have broken every bone in your body in the fall."

"Good … point."

Legolas barely heard the man's soft words, his thoughts once again returning to the moment when he had returned to find Aragorn gone. There had been few times in his life when he had felt so helpless and angry at himself, and a part of these feeling were still persistently clinging to his heart, refusing to let go of him completely.

"I am sorry, Aragorn," he finally said, his eyes fixed firmly on the stony, dusty path in front of him. "I shouldn't have left you there alone. Your brothers told us that there were trolls about, but I didn't even think of it once, so concentrated was I on my grand idea to built a flet. I don't know what I was thinking. Forgive me."

"Don't … belittle your ideas, Legolas," Aragorn protested next to him, sudden worry for his friend pushing the pain and exhaustion in his body to the side. "It … it was a good one."

"Oh yes," Legolas nodded sarcastically. "It was an idea that led to your being taken captive by a horde of trolls that very nearly ate you! It was perfect, you are right."

"You could not have known about them," Aragorn shook his head once more. "It was an accident. It was not your fault … none of it. There is nothing to forgive. Besides, it's … it's not as if you got away unhurt. Don't think … I have missed the way you … c-cradle that arm of yours when you think I am … not looking."

Legolas gave him a surprised look; he really hadn't thought that Aragorn was aware enough of his surroundings to notice that he was hurt.
"It is nothing, I swear. And I wish it was that easy."

"It … can be," Aragorn smiled and did his best to ignore the way something scalding hot seemed to burrow ever deeper into his chest. "If you accept that ... there are things like f-fate and misfortune and that you can't blame yourself … for things that are beyond your control."

"Hear, hear," the elf said good-naturedly, but some of the guilt in his heart was fading away. "You should listen to your own advice from time to time, Estel."

"I know," the man agreed readily. "Adais saying just the same – all the time. But … mostly, it is his advice … I should be following, of course."

Legolas grinned slightly, but worry once again stabbed through his heart when he heard how much weaker his friend's voice had become after all this talking. He gave their surroundings a quick look and cursed inwardly when he still didn't see any sign that anyone had seen them. Where was a Noldo when you needed one?

"I think I know what you are talking about, my friend." The fair haired elf gave his increasingly white-faced companion a quick look. "And now stop talking. It's still quite a long way to Rivendell, and you will need your strength."

"Since when are you … a master healer, hmm?" Aragorn asked, but he, too, felt how much the small conversation had exhausted him.

Even though the sun was just rising it seemed to him as if she was shining down on him hotter than ever in his whole life, and the one or two drops of blood he still had inside of him (he was firmly convinced that it couldn't be more than three) felt as if they were turning to molten lava under the sun's harsh glare. His earlier assumption that the pain in his side couldn't possibly increase was right now being proven wrong, and if he was perfectly honest with himself, he didn't care in the slightest if Legolas claimed to be a master healer or even Estë herself.

"Since the only person around here who knows more about healing than me got himself impaled on a scimitar," Legolas answered curtly.

"Ah yes," the man mumbled tiredly. "I almost … forgot about that." He fell silent for a moment, and Legolas was already congratulating himself on getting that stubborn human to shut up and save his strength when he opened his mouth again, his voice so soft now that it was hard to understand him. "My … sword? Did you…"

Legolas sighed and nodded before the dark haired human could finish his sentence.
"Yes, I found it. And no, I won't give it to you now, so you need not ask me to. You will get it back once we're back in Rivendell and your father expressly allows it."

With an effort, Aragorn dragged his dropping eyelids open and gave the blond elf next to him a suspicious look.
"Are you sure you … aren't one of the twins in disguise?"

"Quite sure," Legolas smiled broadly and grabbed the man a little more tightly as he stumbled over a dead branch lying on the ground. "If I were, I would have to strangle myself for allowing you to get into so much trouble."

"They wouldn't," Aragorn moved his head minutely from side to side. "I mean, they wouldn't hurt you … permanently. It wasn't … even your fault."

Legolas laughed softly and shook his head.
"Oh yes, they would. I dare not even imagine what your father would do, but let me tell you one thing: Your brothers will skin me alive if they find out about all this."

"How right you are. Somebody please get me a knife," a soft voice somewhere to their right said sarcastically, and both their heads whipped around, Legolas' head moving quite a bit faster than his human companion's.

For a moment, Legolas stared at the trees standing left and right of the well-used path leading down into the valley of Rivendell, truly believing that one of them had awoken and spoken to them. He wasn't sure whether or not he believed the tales and stories about talking trees, about the Onodrim that were still said to live in the large forests to the south, but even in his slightly confused and exhausted state he realised that there were two flaws in his reasoning: One, there was no reason for one of the fabled Ents to be here, and two, even if there were, he really didn't think that such a creature would be threatening him in such a manner.

A small smile spread on his face as his tired brain finally came to the only possible conclusion, and he looked up even further, finally spying Elladan's figure, who was sitting in a tree to their right on a large branch about thirty feet above the ground. The twin was cocking his head to the side, apparently scanning the two bedraggled figured who had appeared a few moments ago, a curious mixture of reproach, relief and worry on his face. Now that Legolas was actually paying more than the most fleeting attention to their surroundings, he also saw the rest of what appeared to be Elladan's patrol.

It took the elven prince a moment or two to actually realise that they were safe, that he had found help and would be able to get Aragorn back to his father alive. The realisation sunk in slowly, but finally the worry and fear that had been lying on his shoulders like an extremely heavy coat fell away. His grin grew even more, and he would almost have lost his grip on his human friend who was simply staring uncomprehendingly at his foster brother.

"Well," Legolas finally said, too relieved to come up with anything cleverer or more eloquent, "Are you coming down here or are you planning to sit there all day?"

Elrond was walking down the corridors of his home into the direction of the healing wing, a bright smile on his lips that lit up his tired face. A rather large part of him felt ready to drop and sleep for a century or two, but he was too excited and simply happy to actually sit down and rest.

Well, not perfectly happy, of course. There was no way an elf – or half-elf, for that matter – could be happy when his seneschal, his youngest son and the son of the king of one of the most powerful elven realms on Arda were lying in the healing wing and/or their rooms in various states of bloodiness.

But at least they were alive, Elrond told himself firmly while he was smiling radiantly at a group of younger elves who stepped to the side to let him pass, apparently on their way to the Hall of Fire. None of the three was in a condition to go anywhere in the near future (not even Prince Legolas, who seemed to be most surprised about that), but that was some small detail that only they would consider offensive.

The half-elf shook his head slightly, his gait slowing even more as he thought back to the scene that had greeted him this morning after a rather excited servant had all but taken him by the sleeve of his robes and had forcefully pulled him down the stairs and into the courtyard. It did not matter how many times he had already seen his sons injured in one way or the other, he would never get used to it.

His heart had almost given out – and if he had been mortal, he was firmly convinced that it would have, too – when he had set foot into the courtyard, only see Elladan ride through the gates with his unconscious human brother in his arms, looking so worried that Elrond had immediately assumed the worst – a very wise course of action when dealing with his sons, as he'd learnt a long time ago.

His mood had not really improved when he had actually seen Aragorn's injury, and to say that it had got worse when he had laid eyes on Legolas would have been the understatement of the century. The blond elf had been covered from head to toe with bruises and rather painful-looking lacerations, he had lost his shirts, there had been a large, bloody abrasion on his left temple, and he had broken two ribs and cracked a third and one of the bones in his left lower arm.

Elrond stopped for a moment in front of a life-sized marble statue of a young elf-maid, not really knowing if he should laugh or feel angry. Legolas had insisted that he was fine, all the time it took them to get him up the stairs and into his room. Then, when the healers had been seeing to his wounds, he had tried to convince them to let him stay with Aragorn, and only when Elrond had finally stepped into his room for a moment and had told him that Aragorn needed rest and was not to be disturbed had he fallen silent. Which did of course not mean that the prince would heed his words, the Lord of Rivendell admitted to himself. If he was lucky, he would be in bed and resting now – something which he seriously doubted.

But he had not been lying, Elrond thought darkly. Aragorn did need rest; a lot of it actually. He knew that he had to tell neither his sons nor Legolas how close they had come to losing the young man. The son of Thranduil might have done quite a good job of stopping the bleeding, but another few hours later and it would have been too late to counteract the infection that had already been spreading inside of the young ranger's wound when he had been brought here. Orc scimitars were notorious for causing festering wounds because the blades were filthy even if the orcs didn't coat them with various poisons.

The dark haired elf shook his head, firmly putting these thoughts out of his mind. It didn't matter; Aragorn had not been poisoned. His wound was infected and a very bad one to begin with, yes, but Legolas had got him here in time. Barring any unforeseen complications, his human son would be just fine, and all they would have to worry about this coming month would be him trying to escape their care, something which happened far too often.

Right now the man was sleeping, still under the influence of a draught Elrond had given him when they had started tending his injuries, and one of the twins was sitting in a chair at his bedside to keep an eye on him, even though Elrond had assured them that the other healers would look after their brother and that they should get some rest instead. When he had left, Elladan had been sitting in the large, stuffy armchair with his eyes fixed firmly on Aragorn's pale face, and he was sure that he had seen Elrohir slip into Legolas' room.

Elrond took up his walk once more, still smiling slightly. It was good to know that his sons were watching over the two of them, and no matter how sternly he may have told the twins to get some rest, he was very glad that they had decided to keep an eye on their brother and friend – it was, in fact, the reason why he had left in the first place.

Deciding that he would administer a cup of his famous – or infamous – tea to both Elladan and Elrohir if they were still refusing to take some rest at sundown, he walked down the corridor, turned right and came face to face with Erestor, who was waiting in front of the large double door that was leading to the healing chambers.

Elrond came to an abrupt stop, inwardly asking himself why he seemed to collide with every other person lately, and gave his dark haired advisor a quick nod.
"Erestor."

"My lord," Erestor nodded back, a happy, relieved sparkle in his eyes that hadn't been there when Elrond had seen him last. The reason for this became quickly apparent when a wide smile spread over his usually so reserved face and he added, "He is awake!"

"So I have heard," Elrond smiled softly. The message that Glorfindel was awakening had reached him when he had still been busy treating Aragorn and Legolas, and he hadn't found the time to see to his friend until now. "You have seen him already, I assume?"

"Yes." Erestor looked strangely flustered for a moment. "Mistress Gaerîn, however, was so kind to point out how important it is that he gets enough rest and … assured … me that I could return to my duties."

Elrond hid a smile just in time and nodded earnestly. He seriously doubted that Gaerîn, the healer whom he had entrusted with Glorfindel's care, had phrased it just like this. It didn't matter that the she-elf in question was in fact tiny, petite and even younger than the twins; if she saw the health of one of her patients endangered, she could get rather explicit. She had a knack of formulating her orders in a way that always seemed polite and respectful, but she also didn't leave the shadow of a doubt in anyone's mind that she would rip your heart out of your breast if you didn't do what she told you this instant – which was, of course, the reason why he had chosen her in the first place. If there was one healer in Imladris that could deal with a hurting, ill-tempered Glorfindel, it was Gaerîn.

His inward smile widened. Erestor had been thrown out, by a child not even half his age.
"I see," he finally said. "I have the utmost confidence in Lady Gaerîn's abilities. If she says Glorfindel is fine, then it is so."

Erestor didn't answer immediately, but judging from the way his eyes narrowed at the mention of the she-elf's name it became rather clear that he didn't share his lord's view in the slightest. The dark haired advisor finally nodded politely, annoyance and chagrined acceptance swirling in his eyes.

"If you say so, my lord." Erestor straightened his shoulders and set his jaw, fixing his eyes on the large wooden doors as if expecting them to open at any moment to reveal a large fire-breathing dragon together with its brood. "Do you wish me to … accompany you, my friend?"

Elrond fought to keep a straight face, the worry of the past days making way to irrational merriment that threatened to brim over.
"No, mellon nín," he shook his head, almost losing his composure completely when he saw how Erestor's shoulder dropped slightly in relief. "I think I will speak to him alone."

"Good luck then, my lord," Erestor muttered, apparently torn between relief and annoyance with either Gaerîn or their golden haired friend. "He is already complaining."

"Oh?" Elrond arched an eyebrow.

"Yes," Erestor nodded, a small smile on his lips. He had never thought he would be so happy to hear Glorfindel complain about one and the same thing over and over again. "He feels awful," he began to count on his fingers. "The bed is too hard or too soft, the sheets are making his skin itch, the bandages are too tight, the view boring, the company horrid, the décor terrible … should I go on, my lord?"

"No, thank you," Elrond shook his head with a large smile. "I think I see your point."

Erestor returned the smile and was about to bow and turn around, but he seemed to think better of it and looked back up, locking eyes with his lord and friend.
"Talk to him, Elrond," he said earnestly, the fact that he was calling the other elf lord by his name emphasising how serious he was. "The Valar know I've tried to make him tell me what is wrong, but he won't talk to me. He needs to speak about whatever troubles him, now more than ever. Don't let him get away with avoiding your questions."

"I will do my best," Elrond nodded darkly, determination flickering to life in his grey eyes. "Thank you, my friend. For everything."

Erestor merely smiled again and turned around, and a second later he had disappeared around the corner. Elrond looked after him for a moment or two before he straightened his back and turned to the door. He hesitated only a moment before he reached for the handle and opened it, stepping into the room as soundlessly as possible and closing it behind him again.

Before he could even scan the room, a small, delicate figure with flaming red hair had appeared in front of him, wearing a frown that seemed to be at odds with her otherwise lovely face. The frown turned into a smile when she saw who had just entered the room, and she inclined her head and curtsied quickly.

"My lord," she said softly, looking up to fasten grey eyes on Elrond's face. "How are Estel and the prince?"

"They are well, considering the circumstances," Elrond returned the nod. "If we can keep them in their beds, they should make a full recovery."

"I'll get the chains then, my lord," the young she-elf retorted darkly.

Elrond smiled broadly.
"Yes, that might be a wise course of action, Gaerîn." He turned serious quickly and nodded into the direction of Glorfindel's bed. "How is he?"

"As well as can be expected," she answered in a low voice. "The fever is all but gone, there are no signs of infection as far as I can tell and only little fresh bleeding. With time, Lord Glorfindel should be just fine."

It was strange how good it felt to have another healer confirm what he had already heard from other elves on his way here, and Elrond closed his eyes for a moment and nodded, thanking Eru Ilúvatar for sparing Glorfindel's life.
"Thank you for watching over him," the half-elven healer finally inclined his head and opened his eyes. "I will stay with him for a while now."

Gaerîn was intelligent enough to know when she was being dismissed, and with another curtsy she turned around and left the room. Elrond didn't watch her leave but immediately made his way over to his friend's bedside, the urge to make sure for himself that Glorfindel would be alright burning strongly within him. He only needed to take a couple of steps to reach the bed, and for a few moments he simply remained where he was, looking down on Glorfindel's still form.

He was still pale, almost as pale as Aragorn had been when he had been brought here, Elrond thought. It was a different pallor though; it didn't look quite as deathly-white anymore, not as if he were only one step away from death's doors. The bandages covering almost his entire torso had been changed sometime during the day, the white linen now almost blending into the white sheets.

Not really knowing whether or not his friend was awake, Elrond reached out and placed a hand on the blond elf's forehead, sighing softly in relief when his palm made contact with cool, dry skin. Before he could withdraw his hand, Glorfindel's eyes opened slowly and he blinked twice, apparently trying to get his surroundings into focus.

"Welcome back," Elrond smiled gently and withdrew his hand, sitting down onto the chair sitting next to the other elf's bed.

A tired smile spread over the other's face and he swallowed quickly, his eyes fixing on the water jug next to Elrond rather than on his face.
"Thank you, my lord."

"It is I who should thank you," Elrond shook his head while he filled a cup with water, having followed his friend's gaze. "If you hadn't sensed that first ambush, Eru alone knows what might have happened."

Glorfindel merely shook his head, but before he could answer Elrond had helped him sit up and had pressed the rim of the cup against his lips. After the golden haired elf had drunken his fill, the cup was removed and Elrond helped him lie down again, wincing inwardly when he saw the pain on his friend's face, and his determination to make Glorfindel tell him what was wrong faltered.

Glorfindel nodded into Elrond's general direction but still didn't meet his eyes, and the half-elf's resolve grew once more. This could not go on.

"Aragorn and the prince – they are fine?" Glorfindel asked, his voice soft and full of suppressed pain.

"Yes," Elrond assured the other elf quickly. "They will be just fine, both of them. The rest of the warriors are also alright, don't worry."

"Erestor already told me," Glorfindel nodded, closing his eyes once more. "I am glad, then. I shouldn't have led them down that path."

"You could not have known," Elrond shook his head firmly even though the other elf couldn't see it. "You might have saved all their lives; who knows what would have happened if you had run first into the one and then into the other troupe of orcs unprepared."

Glorfindel shook his head slightly, apparently not really having heard the other's words.
"I have failed you, my lord. Because of me your son and Prince Legolas were seriously injured and almost killed. I beg your forgiveness."

Elrond shook his head again, confusion and a little bit of annoyance on his face.
"It was not your fault, Glorfindel. There is no need to beg anything of me."

Glorfindel merely shook his head again and turned slightly to the side, a more than obvious sign that he wished to be left alone, but Elrond had reached the end of his patience and was no longer willing to accept this kind of behaviour. There was no way he would leave now.

"What is it, my friend?" he asked softly. "What is it that is troubling you? This night, when you were fighting the fever, you were dreaming about Gondolin. Is this it? Are the memories of its fall haunting you once more?"

The other elf didn't answer, not that Elrond had really expected him to, and so the dark haired elf decided that the only course of action that might promise some measure of success was total bluntness. He ignored the way his heart constricted with pain at the mere thought of what he was about to say and narrowed his eyes at his fair haired friend.

"Are you blaming me?" he demanded to know, his voice sharper than he intended it to be. "Are you blaming me and my house for your death? Is this why you have been avoiding me all this time?"

Elrond had hoped to get a reaction out of his friend this way, but he had certainly not been prepared for the one that followed only a second later. The golden haired elf's eyes flew open and his gaze fixed on his friend's face, disbelief and horror on his face.

"I?" Glorfindel stuttered finally. "Blame you? What … how …" he took a deep breath and winced, but pushed the pain to the side quickly. "Why would you say that?"

"Don't insult my intelligence, Glorfindel," Elrond said emotionlessly, feeling a little bit relieved by the other's incredulous reaction. "I have seen you look at me and wince as if my very sight pains you in some way. You are avoiding my presence as if I was the carrier of a mysterious, deadly disease, and you ask me why I would say that you blame me for something?"

Glorfindel seemed about to say something, but then he turned his head away and clamped his mouth shut again, something that awoke in Elrond the very powerful urge to take his friend's shoulders and shake him.
"I could never blame you for anything, Elrond. You are wrong."

"Then what is it?" Elrond all but exclaimed. "Tell me, Glorfindel! If you are not blaming me, then why are you avoiding me? Please, mellon nín, talk to me! I beg you!"

For a moment, it seemed as if the golden haired elf wanted to remain silent, but then he began to shake his head, almost hysterical laughter dancing in his eyes.
"You don't know how wrong you really are," he said softly, obviously working hard to regain control over himself. "When your father was only a babe, I swore to protect him with all my strength, as I had sworn to protect his mother and grandfather. I could never blame his descendants for what happened all these years ago, least of all you."

Elrond didn't answer, sensing that now was not the time to interrupt his fair haired friend, who almost seemed to have forgotten that he wasn't alone in the room.

"You should have seen it, Elrond," Glorfindel went on, his eyes staring dreamily into empty space. "Ondolind was the most beautiful city I have ever seen; in my first life and in this one as well. Some said that it was almost as beautiful as Tirion itself, and none who had ever laid eyes on our city challenged that claim. The valley of Tumladen was green as the greenest emerald, and the city's walls were white as pearls and shone twice as brightly in the sun. The tower of the king was tall as a tree of stone growing into the heavens, and there among the countless fountains stood the two trees the King had made in memory of the Two Trees far to the West in Valinor."

The elf shook his head slightly, a fond smile on his lips.

"It was my entire world. We almost never left the city; only when my king set out to fight in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad. Even then, after that dark day, we knew that we couldn't stay hidden forever, that, one day sooner or later, he would find us, but we weren't willing to abandon our fair city, as Tuor bade us do. We should have listened to Ulmo's warnings that he had brought, I know that now, but then it seemed so unlikely that anyone could ever find us. The king trusted our defences and was unwilling to leave and get involved once again in the battles that raged without, and so we stayed."

Elrond nodded, even though he was sure that Glorfindel wouldn't have noticed if he had turned blue in the face. He, too, knew the tale of the Fall of Gondolin, knew how Maeglin, the nephew of the king, had betrayed the secrets of Gondolin to Morgoth for fear for his life and because of his desire to possess Idril, his cousin.

"And then they came," Glorfindel went on tonelessly. "Then as today we celebrated Midyear's Day with a great feast. In Gondolin we called it Andor Lairëo, or Ennyn Laer in the younger tongue; the Gates of Summer. Everyone was on the eastern walls to greet the rising sun when they came over the northern hills, an endless column of orcs, wolves, dragons and balrogs. Before even an alarm had been sounded, they were beneath the very walls; like a large mass of black insects they crawled over the walls and into the city. We never stood a chance."

Glorfindel shook his head and bit down on his lower lip, his eyes dark and hard.
"Ecthelion died. Turgon died. The people of my house died, and my friends and everyone I had known and loved. Our city fell to ruin, and if not for Idril's foresight and wisdom, not even she, her family and the few they could gather would have survived."

"But they did survive," Elrond interjected gently. "You saved them. You stayed and fought the balrog, giving them enough time to make their way to the Pass and escape."

"It was all in vain," Glorfindel shook his head darkly. "All for nothing in the end."

Elrond frowned, truly not understanding what his friend was talking about.
"I fear I cannot follow you, my friend."

"Tell me, Elrond," Glorfindel said evenly with a strange calmness on his face, "what happened to the Gondolindrim that managed to escape the sack of the city?"

The dark haired elf's frown deepened.
"They settled at the Mouths of Sirion with those who had escaped the destruction of Doriath. My father was their lord after his parents had taken the ship to the West. Elros and I were born there, but I really…" He trailed off, sudden understanding on his face. "Oh, I see. Maedhros, Maglor and the twins."

"Yes," Glorfindel nodded, cold fury on his face even after so many years. "Maedhros, Maglor and the twins. They slaughtered what was left of my people, and for what? For an accursed jewel that never brought anyone anything but grief!"

"I know," Elrond nodded softly, dark memories of how the remaining sons of Fëanor had assaulted his childhood home rising inside of him. "I remember it well. Neither Círdan nor Gil-galad were quick enough to aid us, and before their ships had even arrived the battle was over." He looked up, sad grey eyes locking with sad blue ones. "They paid for their deeds, Glorfindel, you know that. Amras and Amrod died that very day, and everyone knows what happened to Maedhros and Maglor."

"Fate was far too kind to them," Glorfindel shook his head, his eyes still gleaming with fury and sadness. "I do not want to speak ill of the one who has shown you and your brother kindness, but…"

He trailed off and swallowed thickly.
"I died in vain," he repeated softly. "It was all for nothing. But no, I do not blame you, son of Eärendil. I died gladly, for your grandparents, for your father and for my people. Neither they nor you are to blame for the fact that I did it vainly."

Elrond shook his head slowly, his eyes still not leaving Glorfindel's face.
"Then why do you avoid my company?"

"Because," Glorfindel began slowly, "Because, more and more often these past few years, you look so much like your father that I can almost believe it all never happened." Elrond merely stared at him, and so he continued, a small smile on his lips. "I loved your father, you know – like every other elf in the city, since the day he was born. He was a beautiful child, with the wisdom of the Eldar and the strength of Men in his heart, and he had the same love for the Sea that his father possessed. You remind me of him, Elrond, sometimes more, sometimes less. There is also much of your mother and her ancestors in you, but now that the times are growing dark like they did then there are days that I can see Tuor's stubbornness, Idril's wisdom or my king's strength in you, and I remember."

Elrond was silent for a moment, not really knowing what to say, but then he leaned forward in his chair, his eyes boring into Glorfindel's in an attempt to make that stubborn elf see reason.
"Glorfindel," he began carefully, "You cannot possibly believe that your death was in vain. You…"

"Don't," the other elf shook his head sharply. "Don't try to reassure or comfort me, Elrond. I made a choice, a conscious choice to stay behind and die. I did not expect to win against the balrog; if even Ecthelion had died, then how could I have possibly hoped to survive? I made that choice and died. I smelled my own burning flesh and hair and saw my skin catch fire before my very eyes, and for what? It was all for nothing! All this was for nothing, all the mighty, desperate deeds Ecthelion and so many others did availed nothing! I died gladly, thinking that I would ensure my people's freedom and survival, only to be returned to life and hear that they had been slaughtered! I never asked to come back, Elrond. I had made that choice and was happy; even in the moment the demon pulled me down with it into the abyss in shadow and flame I was happy in the knowledge that they would live!"

"And you did not wish to live once you came back," Elrond interjected softly.

"Not when they did not, no!" Glorfindel shook his head again, anger and despair in his eyes. "I wanted to die, Elrond. When we were ambushed by the orcs near the Eagle's Cleft it was like a gift from the heavens – I could go down in a blaze of glory and take as many of them with me as possible! I had watched while my entire world was destroyed and my best friend and my king slaughtered! Of course I did not wish to live!"

"And now?" Elrond asked, trying to hide his apprehension. "Do you want to live now?"

The golden haired elf merely looked at him blankly, nothing on his face that could have given Elrond any clue as to what he was thinking, and Elrond took a deep breath, trying to get his emotions under control. He had been no more than a child when his father and mother had left, and his memories of them were hazy at best after all these ages. He had never thought that he could somehow remind his fair haired friend of his ancestors whom the other had known so well.

"Glorfindel," he began once more, deciding to try a different approach. "Tell me one thing: Do you consider my sons' existence to be unnecessary? Or the Evenstar's? Would you rather have it that they had never been born?"

Glorfindel's reaction to that question was rather interesting. His head turned around so quickly that he didn't even have time to notice the pain the fast movement brought and he stared at his friend, his eyes so large and indignant that Elrond had to suppress a smile.

"I love your children as if they were my own," he growled at the very calm half-elf sitting next to him. "I thought you knew that. If anyone else suggested that I wished them ill in any way, I would make him pay dearly for it."

"Yes," Elrond smiled slightly. "Yes, I know you would. But," he went on, his eyes darkening a little at the very thought, "Surely you realise that, if you had not stayed and fought the balrog that day, they would never have been born? Idril and Tuor would most likely have died, along with my father and the rest of their people. I wouldn't have been born. Elros wouldn't have been born, nor so many others who still live today."

"It's not the same," Glorfindel shook his head. "That is not what I meant, it…"

"Yes," Elrond interrupted him sharply with a voice that left no room for further arguments. "It is. You did not die in vain, mellon nín. It doesn't matter what happened later; it doesn't matter whether Maedhros and his brothers razed the Havens to the ground or not. Without you, I would never have existed, and neither would have Elladan, Elrohir or Arwen. Elros would never have become Númenor's first king, and his house would never have been founded. Aragorn would not have been born into this world, just like none of his forefathers would have lived before him. And it's not only me and my house, Glorfindel," the dark haired elf stressed insistently. "Take Gaerîn, for example. Her great-grandparents fled from Gondolin that day, and because of you they survived. Or Isál, one of your captains. His grandmother hailed from Doriath, I believe, but his grandfather was born in your city. He wouldn't have existed either. There are so many more I could name, my friend, so many that live because you fought and died for them."

Elrond shook his had slowly and continued.
"Yes, you may be right when you say that many of those who fled from Gondolin that day more than six thousand years ago died nonetheless. But even though many died when Fëanor's sons attacked my home, there were some that survived, Glorfindel, and even more of their children and children's children. You did not die in vain. You achieved what you set out to do, and I and my house and so many others will forever be in your debt because of it."

"But even now, after six thousand years, I wake up at night because I see it all over again," Glorfindel said softly, all anger seeming to have drained out of him. "I see how the walls are overrun, how Ecthelion is burnt alive and how the Tower of the King falls. I hear the screams of the dying and my own when I fall into the abyss to my death with the balrog. I can never forget it, Elrond, never, no matter how hard I try."

"Of course not," the younger elf said softly with a small smile. "Of course you cannot forget it, just like I could never forget the day the sons of Fëanor sacked the Havens of Sirion. Such memories are everlasting, just like your love and allegiance to Turgon and your departed friends will never fade or die. But the thing that is important is that you do not live there, my friend. You have to let go."

Glorfindel frowned, and so Elrond continued, choosing his blunt words with care.
"Gondolin is fallen, Glorfindel, and nothing you can do will bring it back. There is not even a single stone left of it since the War of Wrath. And even though it is gone, you still haven't left the pinnacle where you fought the balrog. A part of you is still there, and refuses to let go."

"That part is all I have left of my home," the golden haired elf said tonelessly.

"No, my friend," Elrond shook his head gently. "You have your memories of the days before Gondolin was discovered. You do not need to cling to the memories of your death, Glorfindel. You have so much more."

"And yet a part of me is dead and will forever remain dead," Glorfindel shook his head as well. "A part of me died with my home and my friends, and nothing anyone can say, nothing even you can say, will change that."

"I know," Elrond retorted softly, bowing his head to hide the tears that were suddenly welling up in his eyes. "Oh, my friend, believe me, I know."

A hand was suddenly placed on his forearm, and Elrond looked up to see Glorfindel's pale, from the strain slightly trembling hand wrapped around his wrist.
"Forgive me, my friend," the fair haired elf begged softly. "I spoke out of turn. I should not have brought that up."

"It is alright," Elrond smiled as best as he could. "It has been a long time now."

"The passage of time doesn't necessarily make it easier," Glorfindel shook his head. "Sometimes, it even makes it hurt all the more."

"Yes, it does," Elrond agreed sadly, his eyes locking with his friend's. "But you are not alone, Glorfindel. I know how it feels to lose a part of yourself – but that's all you've lost, my friend, a part of you. You have a home here, a people that need your protection and friends that love you. Don't shut us out."

"I have done no such thing!" the other elf protested automatically, but quickly lowered his head and smiled somewhat sheepishly. "Well, maybe I have. But only a little."

"That, my friend," Elrond interjected sourly, "is a matter of definition. Be that as it may, however," he went on quickly before his friend could object, "I give you my word of honour that, if you ever do something like this again, I will personally kill you."

Glorfindel raised his chin and met the other elf's gaze evenly, understanding full well that his lord and friend was indeed not talking about the orc ambush.
"Yes, my lord, thank you. I will think about your words."

"Then I am glad," Elrond smiled broadly, allowing the relief that was spreading inside of him to show on his face. "I thought you would never come to your senses."

"It is unbecoming an elf lord to mock a grievously injured person."

Elrond's smile grew to improbable dimensions at his friend's answer.
"It most probably is. I will think about it while you take some rest – and don't try to talk yourself out of it, because you won't succeed. Your body needs sleep to heal."

Glorfindel apparently thought about protesting, but before he could even say a single word, his eyelids seemed to develop a mind of their own and were beginning to drop. The blond elf lord attempted to open them again, and finally, after some moments of silent fighting which Elrond watched with quite a bit of amusement, they slid shut and stayed that way. Elrond smiled slightly and stood to his feet, and just when he had reached the doors, a soft, already rather sleepy voice halted him in mid-motion.

"Elrond."

The dark haired elf turned around, trying to hide the worry that had re-awoken in his heart.
"Yes, my friend?"

Glorfindel forced his eyes open with an obvious effort, the blue orbs still filled with sadness and suppressed pain.
"Next year," he began haltingly. "Next year, when we celebrate the Gates of Summer once more, I would like to greet the sun on one of the eastern balconies. I … I would be honoured if you would…"

"Gladly, mellon nín," Elrond smiled earnestly. "I would be most happy to greet her with you."

"I had hoped you would," the other elf mumbled with a smile, already half-asleep now that he had expressed his wish. "The High King loved to watch her too, and so did Idril … and your father, he…"

Before he could finish his sentence sleep finally caught up with him, and Glorfindel's eyes closed once again as exhaustion and long-ignored pain demanded his body's attention. Elrond remained where he was until he was sure that Glorfindel was resting as comfortably as possible, looking at his sleeping friend, and a small, sad smile spread over his face.

"Yes," he told the resting elf softly. "My father loved the sunrise. And so did Elros."

For a moment he just stood there, thinking back to places and people long gone, but then he shook his head and turned around, to the rest of his life and his children who were still waiting for him outside this room.

Aragorn was bored.

He didn't really know how it was possible for someone to be completely exhausted and bored at the same time; the only thing he knew was that he had managed it. This had to be a kind of personal record, Aragorn thought to himself with a dark frown, staring at his room's ceiling. He hadn't got bored so quickly since that time he had broken his leg when he had been fifteen years old – at least he thought so.

He wasn't really sure since it was quite hard to concentrate on anything at the moment, he decided earnestly, his eyes still not leaving the ceiling. His father's draught that had put him to sleep earlier was still affecting his senses, and even though he had to admit that it was quite nice not to feel all of the pain that still throbbed dully in his body, he was beginning to get fed up with the side effects. Not being able to concentrate properly was one of them and most certainly the most annoying, closely followed by the soft, grey haze that had laid itself over most objects in his field of vision.

It made it really hard to see, Aragorn decided while his eyes left his room's ceiling and slowly travelled over the walls to the balcony doors to his left. He knew that the curtains were usually of a dark blue colour, with silver edgings at the bottom, but right now they looked more like grey than blue. The gleaming rays of the setting sun that streamed into the room through the gap between the two lengths of cloth weren't turning the silver threads a soft golden-red colour as they usually did; they were, out of reasons Aragorn couldn't possibly fathom, green.

This was most displeasing indeed, the young ranger thought to himself while his eyes were still fixed on the softly swaying curtains, and it was the healer's fault. When he had woken up, Elladan had been sitting in the chair next to him, but just when his older brother had calmed down again a little and had been about to start scolding him for his reckless behaviour, the small she-elf had turned up, the one with the red hair – or at least he thought it had been red.

Aragorn bit down on his lip while his muddled brain tried to remember the female healer's name. He knew it, he was sure he knew it, but he simply couldn't remember! After a while he gave up, his frustration quickly fading again while his sleepiness increased. It didn't matter what her name was, the fact remained that she had thrown Elladan out. He had been too sleepy to understand why she had done it, and even though Elladan had been highly unwilling, he had left with her in the end. They had gone to fetch his father, that much he was certain of, but he wasn't sure when exactly they had left his room. Maybe two minutes ago. Or maybe two hours.

He was still pondering this – and had just come to the conclusion that, no matter how long ago the two elves had left, it could not have been longer than two days ago – when a soft sound to his right caught his attention, and with the lazy slowness that sedatives always awoke inside of him he turned his head to the side. What he saw there would have alarmed him under other circumstances, but now it merely puzzled him.

Aragorn frowned and narrowed his eyes, trying to clear his vision of the dancing spots of light that had begun to appear in front of his eyes. After a few moments of opening and closing his eyes and viewing the scene from every angle available to him he came to the only possible conclusion: Legolas' head was floating in midair in front of his curtains.

This was most curious, the young man thought, his eyes not leaving the head of his friend that was right now turning from side to side, as if checking that there was no one else in the room. Legolas looked rather normal – or as normal as a person missing his or her body could – if one ignored the fact that his hair didn't look pale golden anymore, but rather white. There were also a few bruises and scratches on his face, and a large, purple abrasion on his temple, but Aragorn seemed to remember them, somehow.

Before he could remember when exactly he had seen Legolas in this rather ruffled state, two hands appeared next to the floating head and pushed the curtains aside, and a moment later the elf's head was joined by the rest of his body that stepped into the room. He stayed completely motionless for a moment, his head cocked slightly to the side, but then he closed the distance between the door and Aragorn's bed and sat down on the armchair recently vacated by Elladan, his movements rather stiff and slow.

A small smile spread on the elf's face as he saw the man's open eyes, and he leaned forward a little with a relieved sparkle in his eyes.
"You are awake."

"And you … have a body," Aragorn retorted softly, feeling quite relieved himself.

Legolas only blinked and frowned slightly, but came apparently to the conclusion that it was the far wiser course of action not to ask.
"I seriously hope so." His eyes narrowed when he saw the slightly glazed look in the man's eyes and gave an inward sigh of relief. Lord Elrond's potion hadn't worn off yet – so Aragorn hadn't sustained a head injury after all. "How do you feel, Estel?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Aragorn tried to move a hand in what was supposed to be a casual gesture but which nearly would have hit Legolas in the face. "How are you?"

"Well enough," Legolas answered quickly as he grabbed the man's hand and carefully pushed it back down onto the blankets. "It's nothing a few days' rest won't cure, your father said so himself."

Well, the young elf thought to himself, that might not be the whole truth. Lord Elrond had actually used terms like "extremely lucky" and "at least a week of strict rest", which left quite a bit to be desired in terms of precision. He was resting right now, wasn't he?

"Good," Aragorn nodded, still staring with fascination at Legolas' white hair. It looked rather strange, now that he thought about it. With an effort he wrenched his sluggish thoughts away from Legolas' unusual appearance and looked at him earnestly. "Glorfindel is … alright?"

"Yes," Legolas nodded as well. "Elrohir assured me that he will make a full recovery. The rest of the warriors managed to get back here without any serious injuries."

Aragorn smiled, quite relieved to hear Legolas confirm what Elladan had already told him.
"Where is he? Elrohir, I mean?"

"I don't really know," Legolas shrugged lightly, but froze immediately as a stab of pain went through his chest. "A small she-elf appeared and dragged him out. For a moment I was certain that she would actually take him by the ear and pull him out of the room."

Aragorn nodded seriously, once again trying to remember the healer's name. It was something beginning with "S", he was very sure about that.
"They have gone to fetch my father."

Legolas' eyes widened considerably, and his gaze immediately began to survey the room, as if expecting Lord Elrond to appear out of nowhere all of the sudden.
"And you tell me that now?" he asked incredulously, already half on his feet. "He will kill me if he finds me here! And after that he will give me to your brothers!"

"Don't worry," Aragorn blinked and shook his head, battling the sleepiness that once again threatened to overcome his senses. "You are his patient. He would never harm one of his patients." He waited until Legolas had sat back down again before he added, "Usually."

"'Usually'?" Legolas repeated suspiciously. "Just what is that supposed to mean, dúnadan?"

"Oh … he's had two bad days," Aragorn grinned sleepily. "Or so Elladan has told me." The man ignored the dark expression on his friend's face and concentrated on what he had wanted to tell the elf the entire time, pushing the exhaustion as far back as he could. "I … I wanted to thank you, mellon nín," he continued softly. "For saving me from the trolls and … for everything else. Thank you."

"As I said earlier, Estel," Legolas smiled softly. "Always. You are my friend, and when you need help, I will always be there."

"Unless," Aragorn retorted with a smile of his own, "my father could discover you out of bed against his orders."

"Well, yes," the fair haired elf conceded. "I may be your friend, but I am not suicidal."

"Says the elf that took on four trolls alone," Aragorn muttered under his breath. "Hear, hear."

"And since I am not suicidal," Legolas went on, ignoring the man's mumbled words, "I advise you to take some rest. If your father arrives here and finds you sleeping, he might actually not kill me – at least not right away."

"Good reasoning," Aragorn nodded, finding that it was becoming harder and harder to keep his eyes open.

"Thank you," the elf nodded as well, ignoring the sarcastic undertone that had tinged the man's words. "Now sleep."

"You really … are a stubborn elf," the young ranger mumbled while his eyelids slid shut.

"And you, my friend, are an insufferably reckless human," Legolas retorted with a smile. "Go to sleep."

Aragorn frowned slightly, apparently trying to hold onto what he had wished to tell the elf, but before he could bring the words into anything resembling a sensible order, they had faded completely from his mind.

Exhaustion and suppressed pain rose to the surface like an unstoppable wave, and before he truly knew what was happening, all conscious thought had fled from his mind as the comforting darkness of sleep enveloped him. Within half a minute he was asleep, and Legolas leaned back in his armchair, wincing slightly when his bruised back made contact with the back of the chair.

The elf simply watched the sleeping human for a few minutes, a wave of gratitude and relief once again welling up inside of him. For a long time he had truly believed that Aragorn would die before he could get him anywhere near Rivendell, a thought that had scared him far more than he was willing to admit to himself. Even though he had known Lord Elrond's foster son for only a little more than a year, he had become quite fond of him, and the thought of losing his human friend so early had frightened him deeply.

Legolas shook his head inwardly, dismissing these depressing thoughts. Neither of them had died and they had it made back to Rivendell in (more or less, at least) one piece, that was all that mattered. Now all they had to do was survive being mothered by the twins and every healer that could get his or her hands on them – a far more daunting task than dragging a half-dead ranger out of a troll-cave and through orc-infested territory. He was rather sure that that red-haired she-elf wouldn't allow them to get out of bed to stretch their legs or take a short walk – no, he was very sure about that. He didn't really know her, but he was reasonably certain that she and Hithrawyn, his father's rather forceful master healer back in Mirkwood, would get along just fine.

It was also entirely possible, Legolas thought, that Lord Elrond actually fulfilled his threat and chained them to their beds to make sure they got enough rest. In which case, he added inwardly, they would have to bribe the twins to help them pick the locks. He didn't really know with which threat or promise they would be able to convince them, but they would think of something.

There was one thing he was very sure about, however, and that was that the next few weeks would be highly amusing – most likely more for them than for the healers and Lord Elrond, he was fair enough to admit that. It would be easy enough to convince the twins to help them escape their father's clutches once their wounds were healed a little more; besides, he had yet to see the twins resist one of Aragorn's really pitiful looks.

With a last fond look at his sleeping friend Legolas carefully sat back in his armchair, put his bandaged left arm on top of his right one and waited for Lord Elrond and the twins to arrive.

THE END

mellon nín (S.) - my friend
ada (S.) - father (daddy)
Onodrim (S.) - Ents
Ondolindë (Q.) - 'The Rock of the Music of Water', the original Quenya name of the elven city of Gondolin
dúnadan (S.) - 'Man of the West', ranger

Well, and that was it, I'm afraid! The reckless human and the stubborn elf have arrived safely, are - more or less - in one piece, and Glorfindel has talked about what was bothering him. That's all very nice, isn't it? sighs contently Yes, it actually is.
I hope you've all enjoyed this little story, short as it was - especially Marbienl, of course; it is her birthday present, after all. I am beginning to suspect that I will have to write a "How Aragorn and Legolas met"-story at some point, but that's another matter. g

About "A Sea of Troubles", the sequel to my last story "To Walk in Night": I am beginning to write it right about now, but I really don't have that much time at the moment. A very, very tentative guess is that I will post the first chapter sometime at the end of this month, probably around the 25th or something like that. Please keep in mind that that is a TENTATIVE guess. It all depends on how good the weather's going to be (this far, it has been quite nice actually!) and how motivated I'll be. So don't send me threatening mails when it's not there on the 25th. g Encouraging mails, however, are always appreciated! g Okay, that's it for now; I hope to see all of you then!



Nili

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Additional A/N:

Deana - Uhm, yes, I guess you could say that. Legolas didn't really have that great a time. g Thanks a lot for all your reviews!
Mornflower - LOL, so Legolas is your date? And so is Estel? Well, that will be one hell of a party, I guess! g And don't bother to leave, you are scaring me already. No, that's not really true. It takes a lot more to actually scare me. Spiders, for example, which is rather pathetic, I know. g
Lindahoyland - Oh, don't be sad. There will be another story here soon - if everything goes according to plan, which it admittedly never does. shrugs It'll be here, sooner or later. It's very nice to hear that you like my stories (I just can't keep the humour out of the chapters. Believe me, I've tried. g), and right now I am definitely enjoying my trip, even though one of my friends nearly drowned me in the swimming pool. It was quite a near thing. g
Ana - I hope you got my mail. sometimes does that, you usually have to wait for a while until the chapters become visible. Then again, that was before they changed everything a few weeks ago, so maybe they don't become visible at all anymore. shrugs I will never understand them, I fear. g I am sorry for making you laugh aloud, though. I hope that doesn't cause too much inconvenience? g The characters just insist on saying these things. It's not my fault, really. g
Kathleen LaCorneille - g So you didn't like those words either? I'm very sorry to hear that... It seems that you and Legolas have something in common then! gasps for air while she is being squashed by Kathleen Ah, thank you, it's very nice to see that you're so happy to have your ranger back. But I am getting the very distinct feeling that he's not too happy about your conversation - I wonder why... g You're quite right though, Elrond and Glorfindel will be fine, eventually. They just need to get over their stubborn pride and actually start talking for once. shakes head Males. I am sorry to say that there won't be any more scenes with the twins, but they'll be in my next story, so don't worry. Thanks a lot for all your nice, long reviews! huggles
Gwyn - Uhm, yeah, I kinda like canon. I do in fact loathe stories that stray too far from what really happened. I know that it's all not real, but if you're using Tolkien's universe, I think it's only fair to keep to his version of "history". Yes, I know, I'm a freak. Slash isn't that bad though, because many writers only change the nature of people's relationships, not history itself. I can live with that. g The thing about an Erestor angst fic is that we know virtually nothing about his character; most of the things that are more or less accepted about him (e.g. being a quite, reserved scholar which is not necessarily the way I'd describe him during the Council of Elrond) are made-up as far as I know. That's okay though, since I do that too, but there is really very little known about him. frowns I will have to think about it. I'm glad to hear that I made you squeal, no matter because of what. g There's a little bit of Erestor in here though, so read on!
Firnsarnien - LOL, it really appears that you're a busy bee! I was never a great fan of backpacking or anything of the like, so I hope you had a lot of fun! I haven't seen Terminatot 3 (Number 1 and 2 were enough for me, thanks! g), but I can imagine what kind of magnet you're talking about. evil grin And I would never kill Glorfindel! I'm not writing AUs, so you need not worry. All canon characters are safe (more or less, that is), it's only the original ones that have to be careful... I haven't really though about whom to kill in the next story, to be honest, but if you don't want me to kill Elvynd, that's fine. I'll kill Isál, then. g
LOTRFaith - You can borrow this original CendanDoll™! It even threatens you in an emotionless voice if you press the button on his back! Great, huh? g And you are right, of course, Glorfindel indeed needs to talk about whatever it is that's bothering him. Don't worry though, he will. I made him do it. g Wood-elves are indeed quite insane, no matter how much Legolas refuses to admit it. We know it's true. g
TrinityTheSheDevil - grabs Glorfindel tiredly DON'T try to sneak off with my characters. I still need him, at least for this chapter. Restrain yourself a little, will you? g LOL, that very nice man you're describing sounds indeed rather handsome! Go get 'im, girl! Or at least stalk him till he yells at you to go away. g And you should know by now that I never permanently maim our dear heroes. I would never do something to seriously damage their rather nice bodies! g
HarryEstel - g Great to hear it was soon enough. I am sorry for posting this one so late, but I really couldn't find the time somehow. Sometimes life can be very busy indeed. I'm very glad you liked it so far, and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well!
Jera - Jera! You're back! huggles I really, honestly, seriously missed you. I wasn't really worried or anything since I know how hard it is for you to go online, but it's very nice indeed to see that you're reading my newest insane little story. It's very, very kind of you to say all these very nice things, and I'm very glad you've been enjoying the last four chapters. I hope you'll find the time to read the last chapter too some day, thanks very much for your review! huggles again
AngelMouse5 - I can in fact email you this story, since I actually managed to remember to copy it onto my laptop. I don't have the other ones though (even though AEFAE might be hidden somewhere. I'll go have a look later, I promise), they're all back at home. Since I also didn't manage to import my inbox, out of reasons I truly don't understand since I've never had that problem before (I sometimes really hate Netscape), I'm afraid you'll also have to send me your email address again. But I promise I'll send it to you. I do. Really g
Lynn-G - LOL, you don't have to get down on your knees. I always update, it just takes a little bit longer than planned sometimes. But I usually update within a few days of the intended time. g Great to hear that you're liking this so far though, thanks a lot for all your review!
Grumpy - Yup, Glorfindel is indeed a rather poor elf. It's definitely not easy for him. huggles elf lord I do rather doubt that Legolas learned anything from this little escapade - he is incapable of learning, at least that's what I sometimes think. It's the only way to explain all this. evil grin
Noldo - Hmm, how do they manage to get into these situations ... I think it's a gift. Or a curse, take your pick. g Glorfindel is also my favourite elf if I'm completely honest, even though I also have a soft spot for Fëanor, please don't ask me why. And somehow I also like Ingwe. shrugs I know, I'm weird. Glad you're agree though, concerning Turgon's hair colour. I also think that he was actually dark haired, but with these part-Vanyar you can never be too careful. g Ah, so you're Uineniel? Noldo is a lot better, I think. I'm quite surprised that wasn't taken yet, though. Strange.
LegolasGreenleafGil-Estel - I'm very sorry for not posting Friday. There was really no way I could; on Friday I was still trying to convince my computer to accept AOL. Unfortunately my computer has actually good taste and didn't. g Most of the time I stay in Essex when I'm here, but sometimes I'm also down in Kent and directly in London. I like it no matter where. It's nice to hear that you liked that one sentence though. I thought it to be quite funny, too. g
Crippled Raven - To be honest: I hate Bovril. I also hate Marmite and steak-and-kidney-pie, and mint jelly. Mint sauce, however, is extremely yummy. g Wearing full body armour might be a good idea, I think. Especially for the two of them; I think they have broken every rib at least twice. Aragorn is indeed Elladan's, Elrohir's and Arwen's cousin, about 40 generations removed. I think it were 38, but I'm not sure. And forget the films, at least if you want to learn anything about the relationship between Aragorn and Elrond. Elrond never behaved like that, and never threatened to take Arwen with him into the West. It's all rubbish. And I don't even know who that guy is. I did know it once, but I forgot it almost immediately. He's just not worth remembering. g LOL, I love the job description. It's highly accurate! Hmm, my chapter titles are never very obvious to be honest; it should become clearer this chapter though. Essentially it's describing Glorfindel's memories and Aragorn's and Legolas' friendship. Very essentially. g
Emiri-chan - gulps nervously I'm very sorry you have to wait, I really am. But so does everybody else, isn't that at least a small consolation? ducks heavy object Apparently not... g I hope I didn't really kill you though. Apart from the fact that I really don't need another spirit haunting me, it's also stupid to lose reviewers that way. g At the moment, I really can't read anyone's stories, I'm sorry. I'm using my friends' internet connection, and I really don't want to stay online any longer than I absolutely have to. But I think I read the first part of your story, sometime back in college. Was it something about the twins and Helm's Deep? I really can't remember more, sorry.g
Sadie Elfgirl - LOL, yes, I imagine Glorfindel would add that to his list. If he's really having such a list, I think it's a couple of feet long by now... g So you liked the shirtless scene? Really, you DO need to sort out your priorities! Aragorn is nearly dying and what do you think about? g And I think both Legolas and Aragorn have that particular talent. I honestly don't know which one is worse. g
Tychen - Let me congratulate you on your fist signed review! huggles It looks very nice indeed! g I am sorry to say that I hate Marmite even more than Bovril though. It's both disgusting. shudders I really hope the summer has returned; this weekend has been quite nice, hasn't it? I'm really hoping that it's going to stay like this for a little longer... LOL, no they're actually not in such a bad way, are they? Well, this is only a short story after all... g Thank you very much for all your long, wonderful reviews!
Templa Otmena - Yes, the method needed a little work, indeed. Stubborn, reckless wood-elf. shakes head evil grin If you liked that scene with Elrond and Erestor, I'm quite sure that you'll like the next scene in this chapter. It's quite sad, that's at least what I think. I had to wipe away a few tears while I was writing it myself... LOL, yes, "the ol' reverse-psychology ploy" nearly always works, doesn't it? They're all not too bright... g And no, I don't like Medieval history. I hate it, I really, really do. And the worst thing is that I have to learn all that boring, horrible stuff for my exam! grrrrr It's not fair. It is very nice to hear that you've enjoyed this story as well as the last ones, thank you very much for all your very long and nice reviews! huggles
Nietta - blinks Uhm, you're really quite evil, did you know that? Laughing at Glorfindel's misfortune... Tsk, tst, tsk. Evil Nietta. I nearly forgot (mostly because I forgot to import my inbox before leaving): You may of course quote that sentence. There was a mistake in there somewhere, though, so I would be grateful if you'd just correct that. Thanks a lot. And you're quite right, of course: Cendan and Aragorn could indeed meet when Aragorn is serving Thengel and Ecthelion as Thorongil. I have had one annoying little plot bunny bouncing around in my head quite a long time now... g Right now I'm in Essex, and it truly appears as if I brought at least a bit of good weather with me! Let's hope that lasts, too! g
Firniswin - shakes head You know I would never truly kill Aragorn! Well, at least I think I wouldn't. At least not without giving the matter considerable thought. evil grin Don't worry about reviewing. (Even though that's very nice of course) I totally understand that RL can get very annoying from time to time... I'm very glad that you're enjoying this so far, thanks a lot for the review!
Kitsune Kida - Yes, I really think sometimes Aragorn hates being human. It's understandable, of course, after growing up with the oh-so-perfect elves. Every human would feel like that, I think. blinks I hope you and your precious will enjoy this bit too. eyes you carefully I really hope so.
Lirenel - Thank you! That's actually quite a nice compliment! I always try to put a bit of background and history into my stories, I think that makes it more "real" and interesting. It's nice to hear that you're enjoying it! I didn't really manage to update "soon", but I hope it was soon enough! Thanks for the review!
Zinnith - I don't think he wants to fall asleep, he only wants to rest for a while. Yes, I know, it always starts like that, doesn't it? g I absolutely agree though, they should indeed be locked in closets, for their own good. g I don't believe there was anyone who fought a balrog and actually lived. Glorfindel died, Ecthelion died, Gandalf died (more or less, at least), Fëanor died, Fingon died. Yup, I think they all died! As I said before, your theories are very close to the truth. Well done! Idril and Tuor sailed to Valinor when the latter felt old age approaching, and it is said that, even despite the Doom of the Noldor, they managed to make it there and that Tuor was the only mortal man who was ever accepted there. Lucky them. g I like the Holy Grail too, it's great! I like the guardian of the bridge of doom or whatever it's called. And Tim, the wizard. g And Sir Lancelot, and Sir Robin, and... g grabs cookie Thanks a lot! I love cookies! g
Alasse Tiwele - g Glad I managed to make you happy. We aim to please, after all. g I am also having trouble believing that the story is already over. It's only five chapters, for crying out loud! I haven't even started yet! shaked head Very weird, really.
Elvendancer - I really hope he doesn't. I am not really slow, but I bet an angry elf lord is a lot faster than I am. g And I wouldn't really chose the term "interesting". "Terryfying" would be more appropriate... g
Radbooks - snickers Legolas, the fireman, huh? Well, that IS an interesting idea... You don't need to worry about "your Glorfindel", you know that I would never kill a canon character! At least not without a very good reason... evil grin As I said, the next story should be out in about a month or so, so you don't have to wait too long! That's something, right? bright smile
Marbienl - LOL, no, I'm still not anywhere near Manchester. Sorry. But they do have a few places in London where you can get nice curry (even though it is, like everything in London, quite expensive), so don't worry about me. g And yes, the trolls are quite stupid. They're really not known for their intelligence - except the olog-hai, that is, and they most certainly are not olog-hai. g And your guess wasn't too bad; Elrond does indeed remind Glorfindel of Turgon, among others. This IS a short story, though! Only 90 pages, that's nothing! At least compared to my other stories... g And no, I HATE the Teutonic Knights. Everything, including the 80-years war, is better than that... Celeborn was staying with the twins in Imladris, but HE most certainly did follow Galadriel over the Sea, it is only not known when. So at least the two of them were reunited, that's something. g So we'll be quite far away from each other, huh? Excellent ... uh, how sad... g
Chip - Hobbits? In England? And they make pudding? blinks Oookaaayyy, if you say so... g Thanks a lot, I did indeed manage to get here safely (even though I hate it when the plane takes off), thanks a lot for all your reviews!
Fliewatuet - Yes, it is, isn't it? It's either a gift or a curse, I'm not really sure myself... g It is very nice to see that you're reading this insane little story! I had already feared that I scared you off or something like that... g I hope you'll enjoy this last chapter too, thanks a lot for your review! huggles
Maranwe1 - There is really nothing anyone can do about it. I am using a thesaurus, actually, but you're right, they're not that helpful. It also depends on how well I can think in English on a particular day. There are days it's really easy, and there are days where I have to really concentrate to write anything. shrugs It's qutie weird. Hmm, let me see, gammon... "1. Meat cut from the thigh of a hog (usually smoked); 2. Hind portion of a side of bacon". At least that's what my little computer-thesaurus says. g I hope you'll enjoy your first college days, then! I think I spent the entire first term in a petrified haze... g
CrazyLOTRfan - LOL. I like the T-shirts. Can I have one? Do you have blue ones? I'll take everything but pink and purple... g Oh, so you meant the next cliffy? That's okay, I guess, since there will be plenty in my next story, or at least I think so. I love them too much to stop writing them now... g Saw? What was I supposed to see? That you've stolen one of my characters and are hitting him with a shovel? Nope, I definitely didn't see that... g
Cosmic Castaway - I did NOT call you an idiot driver. I am not really sure what I said, but I am sure that I never said something like that! mock outrage Really! Speedy is a very good term, and one many people have used to desribe me as well! It's very nice to hear that you enjoyed your time in NYC - and that you liked that sentence, of course! Thanks a lot for all your reviews!
Yuuki Ryuu - Don't wory about that, can be quite confusing. Plus they hate me and eat my chapters all the time, so I'm really not surprised. g I'm not really sure whether or not I'm going to put Celylith into the next story to be honest. He won't be there for the first few chapters, that's something I can tell you, but I don't know yet where he will be in there later. Sorry. g But I will think about it long and hard, I promise. g
Vampy2k - Of course he isn't dead! I would never kill him just like that! huggles Glorfindel I like him far too much! You're right about Elrond having to patch up Estel, of course - how did you know? You have to be psychic! g
Aratfeniel - I don't really think Aragorn is ashamed of his ancestors, at least not of all of them. I think he just has trouble to remember the rest of them, not only Isildur, Tar-Calion and what their names might have been. They all sound so similar! grrr Sorry for not posting the chapter sooner. My computer is still giving me trouble - it really doesn't like AOL... g
Jazmin3 Firewing - That sounds like a lot of fun! I am not a very great fan of sailing anywhere, but that really sounds interesting... Are you insinuating that Legolas' plan wasn't very well thought out? Well ... I think you're right! Legolas might not agree, of course.... g

Thank you all very much for your reviews! They helped me a lot, and encouraged and amused me very much! Thanks! huggles all reviewers