Chapter 15

Erestor was feeling utterly miserable. He knew he should be dead, but based on the constant agony pulsing through his body, he evidently was not. He tried to smile when he saw Elrond, but that proved impossible. Seeing the tear stains on Elrond's face, he wanted to say something to comfort him, but speaking was difficult right now. Elrond sat beside him and took his hand. "I suppose that we'll have to postpone the chess game."

Involuntarily, Erestor laughed. And then regretted it. Pain unlike anything he had ever known lanced through his body. "Don't…make me…laugh," he managed to say between panting gasps for air.

Elrond looked over and saw Haldir, who was quite awake. "Hello, Haldir. Should be more careful."

Haldir nodded. "You're probably right. But it's just a flesh wound. If it's okay, though, after I can actually get up, I'd like to go back to Lorien."

"Yes, that would be fine."

"I think the battle is nearly over anyway."

"Thank the Valar."

"Elrond," managed Erestor, squeezing Elrond's hand. "Glorfindel?"

Elrond was a little curious as to how Erestor would know something was wrong. "Mandos took him." The admission brought more tears to his eyes. It had been a long time since he had felt this way and it would take him a long time to get control of his emotions. "I'm sorry…"

"Not your…fault. Mine."

"How is it your fault, Erestor? You had nothing at all to do with it."

But Erestor knew it was not true. While unconscious, he had received a message from Mandos. He had been skeptical of it until just now. Mandos had told him that Glorfindel had died to save his own life. Mandos also told him that he couldn't tell Elrond. "You're right." He closed his eyes; he was so tired. "Stay…with me?"

Elrond smiled. "Of course I will." He heard swift footsteps to the door and saw Elladan leaving. Almost, he called after him. But he knew better.

"Don't worry about him," said Haldir. "He'll either manage to deal with this or he won't."

"It just feels so wrong that he and I are both in love with the same elf."

"Love you…too," murmured Erestor, more asleep than awake.


Galadriel walked into the room with a sorrowful expression on his face. "Celeborn, Elrond just farspoke me."

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"It's Haldir." She gauged Celeborn's reaction. She, of course, knew about their fight. But she wanted them to make up. Though Celeborn might not understand, she genuinely did want her bonded husband to be happy. If that meant that he had to seek happiness elsewhere, then she would encourage it. She did not want Celeborn to hate or resent her.

Celeborn rose to his feet a little too quickly. His heartbeat picked up. Had Haldir been killed? Would the gods really be that cruel to him? "What happened to him?"

"He's alive. He took a nasty blow. He will be returning as soon as he can walk again."

Celeborn let out an unconsciously held breath. "Thank the Valar." He wanted no more than to see Haldir again, to get on his knees and beg Haldir to take him back.

"Oh, and there was some more news, some good, some bad. Glorfindel has been killed."

Some part of Celeborn was upset about that, but Celeborn also knew what Glorfindel had done to Elrond's life all that time ago and could still not find it in his heart to forgive Glorfindel. "And the good news?"

"Erestor has returned."

A smile appeared unbidden on Celeborn's face. He remembered the sole time that he had slept with Erestor and would do nearly anything to get another night with him. He wondered how Haldir would react to the news, if he would lose Haldir to Erestor. That might be more than he could handle. "Any news on Elrohir?"

"No, nothing. Elrond plans to send out someone to look for him, and Prince Legolas is apparently a spy within the rebel camps, but he has so far been unsuccessful in locating Elrohir."

"He's probably dead, isn't he?"

Galadriel looked down at the ground. "Probably."


Elladan was ready to kill someone. He wasn't sure who he wanted to kill, either his father or Erestor. It was obvious that his father was so in love with Erestor that even Glorfindel's death barely affected him once he was in Erestor's presence. Elladan had memories of his father's behavior after Celebrìan had died. His father had not allowed anyone close, even his own children, for months. Admittedly, his father was bonded with Celebrìan a lot longer than with Glorfindel, but still. His father should have some respect for his son's feelings.

He pounded his fist against the wall. Immediately, he regretted his decision to do so and howled in pain at the warm blood trickling down his fingers. He looked up at the ceiling. "Damn you, Mandos!" If Mandos hadn't claimed Glorfindel's life, then his father would have to, at the very least, pretend that he didn't love Erestor. But with Glorfindel out of the way, Elrond had free reign.

A knock on the door. "Who is it?" called Elladan.

The door opened and Elrond walked in. "I think we need to talk."

"No, we don't. I think it's disgustingly wrong for us to fight over the same elf. You're my father. He's your age, not mine. I accept that I don't stand a chance."

Elrond smiled at the bitterness in his son's voice. Then he noticed his son's bloody hand and saw a matching bloodstain on the wall. That broadened his smile. He had tried to relieve his anger on the walls before. Erestor had always laughed at him for doing so. Glorfindel had as well, for that matter. "Do you want me to see to your hand?"

Elladan looked down at his hand and shook his head. "I'll be fine."

Elrond wished that he knew what to say to appease his son. Deep down, he knew that maybe his son was right, that maybe Elladan would really be a better choice for Erestor. Elladan would demand more of Erestor in the way of commitment and that might be just what Erestor needed. But Elrond wasn't willing to give up on the love of his life for a second time.

"Shouldn't you be with Erestor?"

"Actually, he asked for you to go to him."

"I don't believe you."

"Fine, don't." Elrond turned and walked out of the room. He was now starting to feel the familiar tug on his heart. Whether or not Glorfindel meant to, he was starting to pull Elrond to the Halls of Waiting. Elrond leaned against the wall, his hand against his chest. "Ai, Glorfindel, please don't. You know how much this hurt me before…don't put me through it again." But there was really no way that either elf could control it. They were bonded, and that was that.

Elrond barely managed to make it back to his room before the pain became too intense for him to do anything. He only just managed to close the door to his rooms before he sank to the ground, tears of sadness and agony rolling down his cheeks.


Elrohir saw them all coming back and did his best to look inconspicuous. It was no use, though. Belegtur quickly found him and took him back to his tent, where he began stripping off his armor. Elrohir saw a deep gash in Belegtur's right shoulder that hampered his every movement. In fact, if Elrohir concentrated hard enough, he could feel Belegtur's raw agony. "Would you like me to bandage that?" he asked gently.

Belegtur looked at him. "Doesn't matter."

"Why not?"

"We have lost this battle." Clumsily, left-handed, he grabbed his dagger and put it to Elrohir's throat. "I should just kill you now."

"Please don't. I can help you." Elrohir hated the way he was acting, but his survival depended on Belegtur's survival. And without him around, he knew that Belegtur would do something dumb to get himself killed.

Belegtur looked at him suspiciously. "You don't like me, I know that. So why are you offering to help me?"

Elrohir held up his wounded hand. "We are bonded, Belegtur. I have no choice."

"Very well, princeling."

Taking that as a good sign, Elrohir left briefly to get the necessary supplies. Then he went back and found Belegtur still there, waiting for him.

"Come here, princeling."

Elrohir walked over and sat by Belegtur. "What?" he asked, beginning to clean out the deep wound.

Belegtur turned Elrohir's head and kissed him. "Thank you."

Elrohir didn't want to think about what would happen if Belegtur ever really began to like him. "Belegtur, you have to back down from here. It would be foolish to stay. My father's warriors are stronger than yours."

"What would you have me do, princeling?"

"There are better ways to go about doing this. I'm willing to help you…if you want my help. If you're willing to treat me as an equal…if you're willing to call me by my name, not my title, a title that I will now never hold."

Belegtur nodded. "Very well. I can agree to that…Elrohir."


Haldir awoke to Erestor's incoherent moaning. He looked over sleepily and saw Erestor thrashing about. By the moonlight, he could also see the glitter of tears on Erestor's cheeks. Elladan, who had come by in the middle of the night, was sleeping soundly on the chair beside Erestor's bed.

Haldir sighed and pulled himself up to a sitting position. Gingerly, he pulled himself across the small space between their beds and sat down gratefully on Erestor's bed. He gathered Erestor's hands in his own. "Shh, it's okay. It'll be fine."

Erestor half-woke up. "Don't go."

"I wasn't going to." He stretched out beside Erestor, wrapping an arm around Erestor's waist. "Go to sleep. I'll be here. I promise."

Erestor snuggled up to Haldir and was instantly asleep.

Elladan woke up about an hour after sunrise and found Haldir and Erestor in bed together. Quietly enough that he didn't wake them, he walked out of the room. Did Erestor just think that he could flirt with anyone and have them? Obviously he did and obviously it had always worked before. He didn't know who to go to. For the millionth time he wished that he could talk to Elrohir. His twin always had good advice. Or even Arwen. But she was in Mirkwood right now and definitely would not be allowed to come home with all this turmoil in Imladris.

There were only a couple solutions to his problem. He could give up on Erestor and find someone else. While that was a valid option, Elladan couldn't deny his attraction to Erestor and was not willing to let go without a fight. And that led him to his second option. He could make it clear to everyone else (and that included his father) that Erestor was his and that no one else could have him. He was unsure as to how Erestor himself would react to this, but he really didn't care at this point. Finally, there were the stupid options, like running away or killing himself, but those really didn't present themselves as valid in Elladan's mind.

Elladan briefly considered visiting his father, but decided not to. His father was a skilled warrior and though this would not be actual combat, the battle for Erestor's heart would mean a lot more to Elladan than the battle that had raged outside these walls for the past four days. The battle that, to all appearances, had subsided. The rebels had not appeared at all today. Elladan was not complaining. If this stupid rebellion was finally over, he could concentrate all his efforts on willing Erestor's heart.


Elrond woke up curled on the floor. He slowly maneuvered himself to a sitting position, feeling all the knots in his back from sleeping like this. As he sat, he tried to see how strong the pull would be today. It was still there, insistent and deadly, but Elrond didn't think that it was quite as strong as it was the previous day. Still, it was only morning and the pull, as he had found, grew stronger as the day went on.

He was strong enough to move about now, so he figured that he should make sure all of Imladris knew that he had not been killed. After taking a long, soothing bath, he dressed himself in his formal robes, deep green with a darker green embroidery around the shoulders and neck, and placed his mithril circlet of office over his dark hair. He was the Lord of Imladris and none, especially a bunch of half-trained rebels, would kill him easily.

Before he left, though, he went down to see Erestor. Erestor was sitting up and talking. His elven healing powers had undone much of the damage the blow had caused him yesterday. When Elrond entered and Erestor saw the way that Elrond was dressed he asked, "What's the occasion, my lord?"

"Well, for one, the battle's over. And I have to show Imladris that I am not dead."

"So you will go out alone, unprotected? My lord, that kind of foolishness I would expect of your sons, but not of you."

"Are you offering to go as my bodyguard?"

"Willingly."

"Absolutely not," protested Haldir from the other bed. He was still confined to bed, but he was slowly getting better, and hoped to be able to begin his journey home tomorrow or the next day. "Erestor, you just got better. You're not going out there to get yourself killed. And Elrond, don't be a fool. You should know better than to let him."

Elrond smiled. This felt just like old times, before Glorfindel had arrived. "I am the Lord of Imladris, Haldir, and I shall do as I wish. Erestor, are you coming?"

"Yes, my lord, if that is what you wish."

"Come on, then, we should get you into some formal robes." He smiled as Erestor made a face. He knew that Erestor had always hated formal attire.

"Black?" Erestor asked hopefully.

"As always, if that is what you desire. You've grown a little, so I think that you will have outgrown your old ones. I think you will fit nicely into mine."

"Very well, my lord." Erestor rose from the bed and walked a little shakily towards Elrond. When he reached Elrond, Elrond put an arm around his shoulders to help his friend.

They both missed Haldir's knowing smile as they walked out together. Elladan doesn't stand a chance.


Once in Elrond's rooms, Elrond began to look through his robes. He did not own much black, as he found it a morbidly depressing color. He preferred earth tones. But there, in the back, was a black robe he had not worn for centuries. He pulled it out; it looked like it would suit Erestor perfectly. "Here you go, Erestor. See how that fits." He turned around and found Erestor sitting on the bed, shirtless. Elrond's heart began to race; was this Erestor's attempt at seduction? Because if it was, it was succeeding. But no, Erestor got up and took the robe, disappeared into Elrond's bathroom and emerged a few minutes later. The robe fit nearly perfectly; it did not hug Erestor's slim frame as much as Elrond would have liked. But it would have to do. "Let's go," said Elrond, trying not to lose his breath at the sight of Erestor in his clothes.


Glorfindel couldn't help but smile at the sight of Erestor and Elrond together. Being dead had changed his perspective somewhat. He had seen the pull he had unintentionally exerted on Elrond and wished that he could stop it. He knew that Elrond deserved to be happy and he knew that Erestor would be more than willing to fill that role. The only question was whether Elladan would interfere and ruin this budding relationship.

He had lost his bitterness at being taken away from Arda. He knew that he would be mourned by some. His name would live on as a legend, as a lover, as a friend. He couldn't ask for much more.

"Glorfindel," said Mandos, appearing in the room.

"Yes?"

"As one of the dead, I must force you to stop looking upon your past life. To allow you to do so would anger the Valar and upset your fellow dead elves."

"You mean I can't see them…ever again?"

"If they pass into the Halls of Waiting, then you may see them. But you can no longer watch them."

"Why?" Glorfindel was upset now, and could feel tears welling in his (non-existent) eyes.

"When you died last time, were you allowed to?"

"I wouldn't have wanted to."

"Ah, but that isn't the point. Were you ever offered the chance?"

Glorfindel thought back. "No."

"Then you don't get the chance now. Come with me, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel shook his head. "NO! I gave my life for those people. The least I deserve is to find out what happens to them!"

"Do not raise your voice towards me, Glorfindel, or you will be very sorry."

Glorfindel felt a (non-existent) tear run down his cheek and wiped it away with a (non-existent) hand. Then he rose to his (non-existent) feet and followed Mandos from the room, erasing all connections that he had with his second life.


Erestor smiled as he stepped outside and was greeted with a cool breeze on an otherwise warm day. Today was so perfect as to be clichéd. The sun was shining brightly, the birds were chirping in the trees, not a cloud in the sky. And the battle was over. That was another important thing. Still, one had to watch one's step as he walked across the grass. All of the bodies had not yet been removed.

The robe he was wearing smelled of Elrond. He supposed that that was to be expected, but he had never before thought that he would wear Elrond's clothes. "It's a beautiful day," commented Erestor.

"Yes, it is. More beautiful because this horror is finally over." And maybe I can try to pick up where we left off. Especially because Glorfindel is dead. His arm curled around Erestor's shoulders. "So, where should we visit first?"

"The barracks," answered Erestor immediately. "I think they're important to keeping Imladris safe, so they should at least know you're still around."

"Right, as always. So…can I ask you an important question?"

Erestor looked at Elrond and saw those grey eyes sparkling with love. He had always loved the way that Elrond had worshipped him. "You're going to ask it whether or not I say yes, so you might as well."

"Will you stay and become my Chief Advisor again? Please?"

"I would rather marry an orc."

Elrond grinned. "I'm sure that that can be arranged. Seriously, though, Erestor, I need you to be there for me. Imladris has never been the same since you left. Please come back."

"I am back."

"As my Chief Advisor."

"I'll think about it."

Not thinking, Elrond leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on the side of Erestor's neck. Unlike when he had tried this previously, Erestor did not squirm away from him and explain to him that he was not interested. Instead, Erestor giggled. That stunned Elrond. He didn't think he'd ever heard Erestor giggle before. It was definitely something that Elrond would have to try later, when they were alone.


Legolas had heard that they were moving out. He knew that if he did not find Elrohir now, he would never manage to do so. And Elrond would never forgive him for that. So, after spending a sleepless night searching the camp, he decided the last place that Elrohir would be was with the commander, Belegtur. So it was Belegtur's tent that Legolas approached that morning. He had taken the utmost care to make sure that Belegtur was elsewhere. The last thing he needed was to be discovered on the last day that he would spend with these elves.

Legolas entered the tent, praying that he would find Elrohir there. And he did. Muttering a few words of thanks to the Valar, he dropped beside Elrohir, who appeared to be sleeping. He shook Elrohir gently. "Elrohir," he said softly.

Elrohir's eyes opened. He frowned in confusion at seeing an unfamiliar face, but soon managed to place it. "Legolas? What are you doing here?"

"Well, for one thing, getting you out of here."

Elrohir shook his head. "No." You're too late for that. If you had found me a couple days ago, I would have jumped at the chance, but that choice is no longer open to me. "I cannot."

"What do you mean, you cannot? It's very simple. You just get up and leave with me. Belegtur is leaving today. If I don't take you now, then I don't think anyone's ever going to be able to find you again."

"I told Belegtur that we had to leave."

Legolas's eyes narrowed. "Elrohir, what are you saying? That you're…you're helping this elf? Are you insane? He tried to kill your family! If what I hear is right, he killed your father. And you want to help him?"

"I have no choice, Legolas."

"There is always a choice."

Elrohir held up his hand. "Not anymore, there isn't. Not for me. I am bonded to Belegtur. And unless I'm there to make sure he doesn't do something stupid and get himself killed, he'll die. And he's strong enough to pull me with him. So I have to stay with him. As much as I don't want to, I must."

Legolas groaned at the younger elf's predicament. Truly, it was not something that Legolas would want to have happen to him. "I cannot go back to your father and tell him that."

"Well, I cannot come with you, Legolas. You know that."

"So what do I tell your father?"

"Tell him whatever you like. But I can never go home. You have to understand that. I am no longer Elrohir Peredhil."

"So who are you?" Somehow, to Legolas, Elrohir appeared decades, if not centuries, older than when they had last met.

"Just Elrohir. I'm sorry, Legolas. I hope that someday we meet again."

"Are you sure that this is to be your decision?"

"Yes. My home is with Belegtur now."


Review???