Chapter 19…
…finally
Thank you to all my loyal reviewers. I don't deserve any of you.
Note: I know it's been kind of unclear, so let me clarify a couple things:
1. Flashbacks are in italics, and so are people's thoughts
2. Yes, i know that i'm keeping things about Erestor deliberately vague. I do know why he's important, but it would ruin the story if I were to just come out and tell you. All will be revealed in due time.
3. As i have not yet decided how to deal with haldir, don't expect him to show up anytime within the next couple of chapters.
4. I love all of you for reviewing...or just for reading.
"You must go to war. The Last Alliance is failing," said Galadriel softly. She could see the sorrow in Elrond's face. Elrond was a scholar and a healer. Though he was but young, he was well-known to most elves. Imladris was widely hailed as one of the most beautiful places in Middle Earth and Elrond as one of the best rulers.
Elrond looked at Galadriel, not quite understanding. It wasn't that he didn't believe the situation was dire. He knew it was, and he knew that every elf was expected to do everything they could to help the war effort. A frown creased his unlined face and he shook his head slightly in denial of some unasked question. It wasn't even that he really was anti-war. Sauron was a great menace, and deserved to be killed. It was just that Elrond had basic swordsmanship skills, modest archery skills, and dreadful strategic and tactical skills. He didn't see how he would be of any use in a war. He knew that he could be much more productive elsewhere. But Galadriel had a much stronger ability than he to see the future, and so he would always assume that she would know best. "Tell me why."
Galadriel seemed to think about this for a few precious seconds. She had a monumental choice to make: she knew how headstrong Elrond could be when he was determined to know something and so it seemed that she must tell him the reason, but to tell him the reason might bring about the downfall of elves in Middle Earth. She looked at Elrond's hard, resolute face. It was laughable that Elrond considered himself a terrible leader; he was the type of elf that others followed without question, no matter how right or wrong his decisions were. "You must go to war…because you will meet the elf that holds the future of Middle Earth in his hands." She saw what Elrond was thinking and added, "And it isn't Gil-Galad."
Elrond smiled in spite of himself. He could tell that Galadriel was being deliberately vague. "So if this elf is so important, why must I meet him…if it is a him."
"Yes, it is."
"So why is it important that I meet him?" Elrond frowned in frustration. Galadriel was like a mentor to him, but that didn't mean she couldn't get annoying at times.
Galadriel shook her head. "I cannot tell you that, Elrond. All I can tell you is that if you do not go to war, Middle Earth will fall to Sauron."
Elrond smiled again. "So, truly, isn't it I who hold the fate of Middle Earth in my hands?" He raised a knowing eyebrow.
"Perhaps for a short while, yes. Now, does that convince you to go to war?"
Elrond had known when he had been summoned in to see Galadriel that he would end up going to war. Up until now, he had sent supplies, but no warriors, and had allowed no citizen of Imladris anywhere near anywhere that could be construed as a battle area. He knew that that had made him very unpopular with many important people, but it kept his people safe and alive…for now. He sensed that Galadriel was more disappointed in him for his lack of responsibility towards the rest of the elves than angry at him for doing what he had done. "You will not let me leave until I have agreed."
"True enough. But it will be worth it, Elrond. I swear that to you."
It was so quiet out here now, moments before the sun began to show above the horizon. The grass was wet underfoot and made a slight squishing sound as he strolled through it. There was a slight breeze, enough to play with the braids in his air, not quite enough to mess them up. The sword in his hand was heavy, in its own way, but it was a familiar weight. His clothes were loose and light. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that everything in life made sense. The sweet perfume of the earth invaded his senses and made him smile.
He heard footsteps behind him, just as soft as his own. Slowly, unafraid, he turned to face whoever it was. He had to fight the grimace that threatened to appear on his face when he saw Elrohir. He couldn't help but frown when he saw the sword in Elrohir's hand. "Good morning, Elrohir."
"'Tis early to be up, Erestor."
"It's so peaceful like this. Not as…distracting as other times of the day."
Elrohir raised his sword. "How skilled are you with a sword?"
"I have a fair amount of skill."
Elrohir doubted that very much. But he was willing to indulge Erestor, his brother's lover. "Then shall we spar?"
"If you wish." Erestor had come out here mostly to relax. It was just precaution that he had brought the sword. He had not thought that he would actually use it. He wasn't sure at what point he decided, but he decided that he would let Elrohir win. He couldn't have Elrond's children hating him. So he held back, letting Elrohir get closer and closer to hitting him every time. But he made him work for it. A sheen of sweat stood out on Elrohir's forehead and he was breathing hard by the time he pinned Erestor at the back of a tree, his sword point lightly pressed against Erestor's throat. "Do you yield?"
"Erestor," said a highly amused voice. Erestor glanced over and saw Elrond walking towards them. "Have your skills become so rusty?"
"Obviously," said Erestor cheerfully.
"Elrohir, give me your sword. I find Erestor's statement to be…lacking." Elrond walked over and took the sword from Elrohir. As Erestor stepped away from the tree, Elrond said, "And how about you put some effort into it this time?"
Elrohir knew that his father was a hundred, a thousand times better with a sword than he was, and expected him to have forced Erestor to surrender within seconds. Now he saw that Erestor had only been playing with him before. For a while, as the two elves danced back and forth, it even looked like Erestor would win. Elrohir found himself watching a test of endurance and creativity between the two best swordfighters he had ever seen. The sight was breathtaking.
Then his father took control of the fight and managed to get as far as nearly getting Erestor up against the same tree that Elrohir had had him pinned against. It looked like Erestor slipped and dropped down to one knee. His father smiled triumphantly, but then Erestor delivered a vicious blow with the flat of his sword to Elrond's shins. Elrohir knew that had this been a real fight, to the death, Erestor would have just removed both of his father's legs at just below the knee. Elrond fell backwards, but recovered surprisingly quickly. "Come on," Elrond said breathlessly, "that was low."
Erestor smiled as he replied, "That'll teach you to corner me."
The fight resumed, just as fierce as before. Until Erestor casually twisted his leg around Elrond's and stepped back. Elrond landed hard on his back. Erestor removed his leg just in time to keep his balance and placed the sword point at Elrond's throat. "Like that?" he asked with a grin. He sheathed the sword and offered a hand to pull Elrond up. Elrond took it and pulled Erestor down instead. The two elves lay silently on their backs for a few moments.
Erestor got up first. "There is work that needs to be done, my lord," he said. "I suggest you do the same. Thank you for the exercise, though. We should do that more often." He looked at Elrohir and said, "You show the makings of a promising swordfighter."
"Will you show me some of those moves?" asked Elrohir.
"Certainly. In a few days, perhaps. That is the kind of abuse my body is not used to taking and I will be sore later."
Elrohir watched as Erestor walked back inside. The Erestor he had seen just now was the Erestor he could learn to live with.
Then the ever-present thought resurfaced in his mind. This is not your home. You do not live here anymore.
"Lord Celeborn!" came the frantic, emotionally uncontrolled voice as the door opened.
Celeborn looked up and saw one of the captains. It was, he recalled, the same one who had walked in on him and Haldir just a few days ago. It looked like he had just come in from fighting, and that immediately worried Celeborn. What news could be that urgent? "What is it?"
"It's Haldir, my lord."
Celeborn stood up. "What happened to him? Is he hurt?" Celeborn could not bring himself to ask if Haldir was dead.
"Please come with me, my lord."
Celeborn found it surprisingly difficult to keep his balance as he walked. It felt as though he were drunk. He seemed so detached from reality that it seemed like his feet weren't touching the ground. Only it wasn't elation he was feeling; it was pure, sick dread.
Celeborn closed his eyes when he saw Haldir. Haldir's eyes stared sightlessly upwards and the back of his head was a ruined pulp. He was covered in blood. They had not yet washed him or prepared him for burial. They had apparently wanted Celeborn to see him like this. And they were quite right to do that. Haldir had been his lover, after all.
He walked over to Haldir's body and dropped to his knees beside it. He took Haldir's cold, stiff hand and said, "I love you. I would have done anything for you. How could you have died? I loved you so much." For once, Celeborn could not fight back the tears. They flowed freely down his cheeks.
Eventually, Celeborn wiped the tears away and stood back up. He looked up at the ceiling. "How could you take him from me? I would have done anything for him. I love him. How could you? What did I do to deserve this?"
There was no answer.
When Elrond was walking to his study, he smiled at Erestor. Erestor did not see the smile, his head was bowed in fierce concentration, idly twirling a quill between his fingers. He was wearing casual clothes, his hair held back by a single clip. As Elrond watched, Erestor flipped to another piece of parchment. Erestor unconsciously licked his lips, and Elrond turned away before anyone caught him staring.
Elrond entered his study and sat down, a broad smile on his face. It was so good to have Erestor back. Putting aside all his thoughts of Erestor, though, he turned to his work. That was a surprisingly good way to make him unaware of all the problems he was facing (i.e., competing with his son for the affection of Erestor).
Then the door opened. Elrond looked up, ready to shout at the person. No one was allowed to enter without knocking.
It was Erestor.
"You were staring at me earlier, my lord. Why?" Erestor closed the door behind him and stepped in.
"I'm working, Erestor."
"And you're distracting me from working when you stare at me."
"I'm not staring at you right now, am I?" Elrond purposely kept his gaze on the parchment, though he wanted nothing more than to look up at Erestor.
Erestor walked over to him and put a hand on Elrond's shoulder. Elrond looked up and Erestor grinned triumphantly. "See, I told you that you were staring at me."
Elrond grinned as well, and then pulled Erestor down into his lap. "Well, what are you going to do about it?"
"Now what are you going to do if someone walks in and finds us like this?" Erestor's tone was not joking and casual, but deadly serious. "Glorfindel died only a few days ago. Most people here would not accept this." He pulled away from Elrond. "And knowing my reputation around here, most elves simply wouldn't want us together on principle. And your children hate me already."
Elrond sighed heavily. "You know that I love you?"
"You tell me at least once a day."
Elrond shook his head. "Is this one of your boundary things? Do you think that simply because you are once again my chief advisor that you automatically have to become cold towards me again?"
"I think no such thing."
"Fine. Come to my room after the evening meal. You owe me a game of chess."
The time had come for Elrohir to face himself. Waking at dawn and dressing warmly, he saddled his horse and left Imladris reasonably unnoticed. It wasn't a long ride, but Elrohir was a nervous wreck. He was terrified that his father would find out what he was doing. His father was notoriously intolerant of traitors. And that was what Elrohir was, really.
After checking nervously behind him to make sure that no one was visibly following him, he stopped the horse, dismounted, and tied the reins loosely to a post near Belegtur's apartment. Taking a deep breath, he entered the building, and climbed the three flights of stairs to Belegtur's apartment. Unlocking the door, he walked in and found Belegtur already awake.
"Elrohir," he said, with a slight smile, walking over to give Elrohir a light kiss. "I wasn't sure that you'd come back."
"Did I have a choice?" Really, though, Elrohir considered, Belegtur wasn't so bad. It was just that he was so different from anything that Elrohir had ever encountered in his extremely sheltered life.
"Yes. I'm glad that you did." Another kiss, more intense this time.
Elrohir did not fight it, as he had the previous few times. He responded, slipping his hands up under Belegtur's rough shirt and pulling it over his head. Belegtur smiled and slammed Elrohir up against the wall, his hands running along the sleek muscles of Elrohir's chest and abdomen. Elrohir closed his eyes and smiled. He felt his pants ripped off, and a warm hand wrap around his erection. He moaned and thrust into the hand.
Belegtur pulled Elrohir's head up and kissed him, stroking him hard. It wasn't all that long before Elrohir came. Belegtur kissed him tenderly, then grinned and pushed Elrohir unresistingly onto his knees. "Your turn," he said.
Elrohir looked up at Belegtur and smiled, licking his lips. Slipping Belegtur's pants down to pool around his ankles, he took Belegtur's erection into his mouth. Belegtur was even more needy than Elrohir had been and came almost immediately. Belegtur pulled Elrohir back to his feet and kissed him again. "Does that give you any incentive to keep coming back?" he asked.
"Some." Elrohir grinned and reversed their positions easily, pushing Belegtur into the wall. Belegtur put up no fight and instead smiled. "Though it's nothing I couldn't get in Imladris. You'd be surprised at what amusements are available to a decadent princeling."
Belegtur smiled now. "Is that what you have become again, El?"
"I thought our agreement was to call me by my name."
"Is that not close enough? Besides, sex is always better with your bonded than anyone else."
"Says who?"
"Everyone. So, now that we've gotten through this, why don't you tell me what you've been doing?"
"Well, there is this one elf in Imladris…he's so good with a sword he beat my father. I've never seen anyone beat my father before."
Belegtur nodded. "What's his name?"
"Erestor. And Glorfindel's dead."
"Everyone knows that, El. Tell me something that I don't know."
"My father is rebuilding an army. It's going to be five times the size of the old one. He said that he didn't want anything like what you did to happen again."
"So if we're going to strike, we have to strike soon."
"Not necessarily. If we want to be more covert about it, we should wait a couple years…"
"A couple years, Elrohir!? Do you have any idea how hard it is to scratch by each and every day? Every day I die a little more…every day I fall a little farther. I can't last another two years, El. I can't last another six months. This was my last resort."
"I can get you money…"
"I don't want your fucking filthy money!" Belegtur pushed Elrohir roughly away. "Go back home, princeling. If you can get those fucking stupid ideas out of your head, you can come back. But not until then." He turned away from Elrohir and walked into another room.
"I'm sorry," Elrohir called after him.
A harsh voice replied, "Sorry won't keep me alive."
Elrohir found, somewhat to his surprise, that tears were stinging his eyes. He pulled his clothes on, emptied the money out of his pockets, left it on the table, and then walked out.
Glorfindel heard footsteps. That meant one of two things: either Mandos had decided to show up again, as he did every once in a while, to torment him here in this place isolated from everyone else, or that Mandos had given him a companion. He opened his eyes, and was stunned to see Haldir. He rose to his feet, and embraced a rather shocked Haldir. "Haldir? How did you get here?"
"Am…I'm dead, aren't I?"
Glorfindel closed his eyes. "Yes. You are in the Halls of Waiting. How did you die?"
"I don't know. I was…fighting the orcs…and now I'm here."
"MANDOS!" bellowed Glorfindel.
Mandos appeared in front of him, a whimsical smile on his face. "Yes, Glorfindel?" he asked calmly and patiently.
"Why is Haldir here?"
Mandos looked Haldir over. "As he is here, I think it is fairly safe to assume that he's dead."
"That's not funny, Mandos. Haldir shouldn't be dead."
"Ah, so you are one of the Valar now, to dictate who lives and who dies?"
"You had a lover, right, Haldir? Celeborn?"
Haldir nodded.
"What about Celeborn?" challenged Glorfindel.
"Elves do die. They typically leave behind lovers, families. Does that mean I should do something about that for everyone?"
"Celeborn is lord of Lorien."
"I am aware of that."
"Couldn't you do something about it, then? Because he's the Lord of Lorien?"
"My dear, persistent Glorfindel, I could not send Haldir back even if I wanted to, even if they hadn't already buried his body. Haldir…do you wish to see what you looked like when Celeborn got your body?" Mandos conjured up a picture. Glorfindel gasped when he saw the terrible wounds inflicted on Haldir. Haldir merely closed his eyes and turned away. "That body is ruined. Haldir cannot go back."
"Is there no other way? Can you not make one of your infamous deals?"
"No, not in this case."
"Why are you fighting so hard for me?" asked Haldir curiously. "What do I mean to you?"
"It's not what you mean to me, it's what you mean to Erestor."
Mandos chuckled. "This all comes back to Erestor, doesn't it? Everything always comes back to him."
"I will do anything, Mandos," said Glorfindel.
"You're already dead. There is nothing left for you to give." Then Mandos smiled cruelly. "No, there is something left for you to give me. You know of what I speak."
Glorfindel looked as though he had been struck a mortal blow. The things I do for you, Erestor. "Very well, Mandos. But swear to me that you will give Haldir back."
Mandos sighed heavily. "Very well. I'll see what I can do. It might take some time, though."
"As long as it gets done."
"Are you ordering me around, Glorfindel?"
"I think I'm entitled to."
Okay, now. i have some instructions for you. CLick that little box that says 'go' in the left hand corner right beneath this. I would really appreciate it. Grin. Should hopefully update this again by Wednesday. I hope.
