Chapter Five: The Dam Breaks

Glorfindel glanced around himself at the faces that were lit by the fire. Belegon sat up straight as a proud king, with Arandur and Malchathol on either side of him looking as uncomfortable and slightly suspicious as was to be expected. Rasaras sat between Arandur and Glorfindel, squirming and looking on anxiously. Erestor sat beside Malchathol, and if Glorfindel had not known better, he would have called the expression on the advisor's face one of thinly veiled terror.

The tall Man that was seated before them smiled again, his angular face lit by the fire's orange glow. His clothes were slightly torn and dirty, as if he had spent a long time out in the elements. Rich brown eyes flecked with gold looked on each one of them. "You are welcome, my friends," said the Man in a rough, thickly accented voice. "I am Morazôn of Númenor, and I lead a patrol for a nearby settlement. My men and I have been using this cave as our habitation for two weeks now, but we have seen no other people. How came the Fair Folk to wander by this place?"

Belegon cleared his throat. "I am Belegon Taurvagorion, Captain of the Guard of Imladris. I was leading a small company of warriors and ambassadors to Mithlond across the Ered Luin, but we were caught in the blizzard. Our horses were unable to go any further, but I remembered this cave from my travels in these parts many years ago. I did not expect to find it inhabited."

Morazôn smiled. "You and your friends are welcome to remain with us, Captain Belegon. My lieutenant Tanakûl will be happy to find you suitable places to rest—this is a large cavern, and we have plenty of room to share with weary travelers."

Belegon dipped his head in a small, courteous gesture. "We are indeed in your debt, Master Morazôn. We will not impose upon your hospitality for more than this night, and we will make plans to depart at dawn."

The Númenórean lifted one bushy eyebrow. "Surely your horses will not be any better off then? The snow will still be just as deep."

"It will be easier to guide their steps in the daylight, without the wind and snow blowing in our faces. Besides, we are due in Mithlond for a delegation with Lord Círdan and his folk, and it would not do to keep him waiting long. We are grateful for your hospitality and do not wish to burden you."

Morazôn grinned, revealing a row of slightly yellowed teeth. "The Fair Folk are no burden at all, Captain. It is an honor to count you among us."

Out of the corner of his eye, Glorfindel saw Erestor reach behind Malchathol and tap Belegon's shoulder. "He is not to be trusted," mouthed the advisor in soundless Quenya. Belegon had a sketchy knowledge of the ancient speech, but Glorfindel guessed that Morazôn had no knowledge of it at all. He was a bit offended for the Man's sake—after all, here he was sheltering them in their need and not accepting any kind of reimbursement, and Erestor had to whisper about him in a speech he could not understand. It was hardly fair. Morazôn glanced at Erestor, and the Man's face darkened with suspicion. Something flashed in the ember-like brown eyes for a moment, but it was quickly replaced.

Belegon looked back up at Morazôn as if nothing had happened. "May the favor of our people rest upon you, Master Morazôn. Where do you wish us to settle?"

Morazôn fired a rapid stream of Adûnaic at a group of Men, and one of them stepped forward. He was a lean, wiry fellow with a sharp-featured face and shifty eyes. "This is my lieutenant Tanakûl," said Morazôn. "He will show you the place we have prepared. Your horses are comfortably kept within the inner reaches of the cavern."

Belegon nodded. "Many thanks. I will have one of my warriors stand guard over the entrance, to relieve your men of the task." He nudged Malchathol, and the swordsman stood to his full height. His head came within a foot of the ceiling, and with his cape thrown back and his sword at his belt, he looked like a formidable watchman indeed.

Morazôn glanced up at Malchathol—he had to nearly strain his neck to do so—and there was a hint of apprehension in his eyes. "Of course," he said nervously. "All enemies quail before the blades of the Firstborn. We fear no evil with your warriors near."

Belegon stood, and all the others followed suit. The captain reached over and shook Morazôn's hand. "May the Valar bless you for your kindness."

Morazôn grinned again. "Indeed."


Erestor sat by the fire in their makeshift quarters and waited until the chamber was almost empty. A few of the Númenórean scouts still milled about, gazing at the Elves with their strange brown eyes. Erestor had never seen such eyes—not that the color was unusual, it was just a strange look. It was not hatred, or admiration, or curiosity; it was more like an interesting mix of the three, as well as something else he could not decipher. Whatever it was, it was disturbing. He did not like the Men one bit.

He caught at the corner of Belegon's cloak just as the captain was about to walk away. "If you do not mind, Belegon, I would like to speak to you a moment," he whispered.

Belegon smiled. "As you wish. Would it be more tactful to stand farther away from the general mass of listening ears?"

"Probably," he said, unable to suppress a tiny smile of his own. They moved closer to the back of the cave, a good few feet away from everyone else.

"Now," said Belegon as soon as they were sure they would not be overheard, "what is bothering you?"

"These Men. There is something very wrong here, Belegon, I am sure of it. I did not feel right the moment I set eyes on this cave, and its inhabitants have done nothing to put me at ease. They speak like friends, but they look at us with fear."

The captain shrugged. "That is not unusual for Men. No matter how much we try to reassure them, there is always a bit of fear in their hearts for us. It is as if we are wholly alien to them as a race. There is no reason for that to make you uneasy."

"You saw the way Morazôn reacted when Malchathol stood up. He immediately looked afraid and defensive. Even when we speak of Men, I cannot understand that reaction to an ally volunteering defense. Why would he be afraid of Malchathol unless he thought he had something to fear? Unless he did not count Malchathol as an ally at all?"

Belegon looked thoughtful. "You make an interesting point, and one indeed worth consideration. Yet you must also take into account the fact that we were introduced to Morazôn less than an hour ago, and he has only our word to depend on. I would think him a poor leader and defender of his people if he was not hesitant to trust us."

"That is true, and if it was only that reaction that alerted me, I would concede the point. But it is not only that. I understood what Morazôn said to Tanakûl when you asked about where we would stay—one of the things he said was 'Put them in the back.' Our horses are also here in the inner reaches of the cavern. Why is it important for Morazôn to keep us as far as possible from the entrance to the cave? Because he does not want us to leave unless he wishes it, perhaps?"

Belegon shook his head. "You are looking at all of this with a mistrustful mind, Erestor. You are extremely uncomfortable here and you wish to be gone. I completely understand, and I assure you that I do not blame you for feeling that way. We are only staying here for the night, and in the morning we will leave and continue on toward Mithlond. When we reach Mithlond, we will alert Lord Círdan of this outpost and allow him to take such action as he feels is necessary. I can do nothing now—I have given my word that we will stay here for the night, and if they are truly hesitant to trust us as you say, then my going back on that decision will only make matters worse. We can go no farther tonight; we have no choice but to stay here until dawn."

Erestor bit his lip. "I understand. I do not feel any better about these Men, though. They do not mean us well."

"What would you have me do? They have shown us hospitality in our need, and you saw how Morazôn refused any kind of recompense for his generosity. We cannot leave, and it would only hurt our position here if we acted suspicious and doubtful. It is only for one night. You do not even have to sleep if you do not want to. I set Malchathol as the watchman, so at least one of us is on guard and alert. We are not defenseless."

He sighed. "I know. I still have a foreboding feeling, though. I do not trust Morazôn or any of the others, and the sooner we are away, the better off I will be."

Suddenly Erestor heard a snort of disgust from behind him. He whirled around and saw Glorfindel looking down at him. "You don't trust anyone, do you, Erestor?" the warrior said, his voice harsh with repugnance.

Erestor drew himself up to his full height—which did no good since he only came up to Glorfindel's nose anyway—and frowned. "I trust Lord Elrond and Captain Belegon. I have met few others that merit my complete trust."

"Oh, well, pardon me," spat Glorfindel. "I suppose I will just leave you to yourself and speak with the other untrustworthy members of our company. It's a wonder you agreed to come, if you think the rest of us are going to murder you in your sleep!"

"I did not say that. I highly respect the others, and the more I get to know them, the more I trust them. I do not fear for my life around them a single bit. You, on the other hand, are only more repulsive every time you open your big mouth! I do not trust you any farther than I could throw you!"

"Well, Little Master, I hope you are satisfied to know that no one else trusts you, either! Why do you think Elrond sent me? Because Belegon needed another assistant? If you would just keep quiet and stop being so doubtful and cynical about everything and everyone, we would be much better off! You have already managed to nearly cripple yourself and your horse!"

"The reason I fell through was that the ice was too thin! It is a marvel that you did not fall through and break your foolish neck when you went skipping across the ice without waiting for Belegon's word!"

"Not only that, you've also highly offended Master Morazôn by whispering about him behind Malchathol's back only seconds after he offered to shelter your ungrateful self for the night! It's no wonder they all hate you! I only hope they don't hate the rest of us, too, because of your impertinence!"

"That's enough!" said Belegon suddenly, shoving Glorfindel and Erestor apart. His green eyes flashed. "I am astounded at the manner in which you both carry yourselves! Do you mean to make a mockery of our people to these Men?"

"No," growled Erestor. Glorfindel only glared at him.

Belegon ignored the glares. "Since the very beginning of this journey, you two have done nothing but antagonize one another, and I want it stopped here and now! There is no reason in Middle-earth why the two of you cannot even be civil to one another. You are bickering like ill-mannered children, and you should be ashamed of yourselves!"

No one said anything. Erestor looked down at the ground to avoid meeting Belegon's eyes. He was beginning to feel ashamed of himself. It was not like him to just lose his temper and say all sorts of horrible and hateful things to someone else.

Belegon sighed deeply and shook his head. "Glorfindel, I want you to go and help Arandur see to the horses. No—"he held up a silencing hand as Glorfindel started to protest—"not a word. I will speak with you later. Go now."

Glorfindel turned and left, tossing Erestor a smoldering glare over his shoulder. His gray-blue eyes were hard and venomous. Erestor lifted his chin and did his best to look just as formidable, but it was an empty gesture. He felt as if Belegon had dumped cold water on his anger and it had all dissolved into nothing.

Belegon grasped Erestor's shoulder and steered him toward a rocky outcropping in the cave wall that was about the same size as a bench. "We need to talk."


Author's Notes

MarySuesREvil: Wow, thank you so much! Yes, I agree, there is a measure of 'fanon' in the stories, both this one and "Snowballs." More so Erestor than Glorfindel, because IIRC Erestor had about three lines in the books and none in the movies. I'm glad that you're enjoying it!

Noldo: First of all, thank you for reviewing! Your kind words are greatly appreciated. As for your two questions: Alphien's age is given in what I would consider Elven years, not human ones. Twelve is a good round number between one and maturity, and since the Elves "reckon as far as possible in sixes and twelves," then turning twelve might be a landmark for them the same way that turning ten is a landmark for us. They would probably not have a birthday party every year (after you turned fifty they would all start to run together), but twelve might be a good excuse to have one. At least that's my idea. As for Imladris and the pronouns: that's one part vague/careless pronoun references, and another part just me being vague. I was using "Imladris" to refer to the house (Would they have referred to it as the Last Homely House while Lindon and Gil-galad remained? I figured that that was more of a Third Age name, but I could be wrong.) and "the valley" to refer to the valley. Rasaras lives near the main complex of buildings, but in a village that is far enough away that he can come to the top of a hill and be able to look over the famous cluster of buildings we know as Rivendell. As for the pronouns, I meant it to be more of a coming-of-age moment: his home and family are behind him, and the much bigger world of heavy responsibility in the Guard is before him. The fact that he is standing on a hill and gazing out over Elrond's house as he comes to this realization is more for metaphorical purposes than anything else. Sorry if it was confusing. :( Rasaras is not in fact a Noldo, and I figured that there would be more than just Noldor. It started with the Elven refugees of Eregion, but I thought that perhaps some Sindar or Silvan that sought Elrond's wisdom or protection could have come as well. Hope that answers your questions! On a side note, thank you for your encouragement about my original characters! I agree that they should be more than just "sidekicks." It's hard to do them right. Thank you for your kind words, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the story!

Lady of the Twilight Woods: ::grins:: Thank you! The scene with the snowbank was fun to write. I'm glad you enjoyed it!

seeing-spots: I'm glad I was finally able to introduce Rasaras to everyone. He will be important later on in the story. I don't think that Glorfindel and Erestor will resort to violence... I hope not! Those nicknames were a spur-of-the-moment idea—I hadn't intended to add them, but they sort of "came out" when I wrote the draft. I laughed out loud when I wrote them. :) Thank you for your words!

Erestor: Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it... Rasaras came out all right after all, I guess. I hope I explained the "before" line (a bit too vague, I have to agree), though it was hardly a mistake on your part! I'm almost tempted to drag out Glorfindel and Erestor's enmity for as long as I can... it's so much fun to write. :D

Silabrithil: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it. I hope you like the rest of it as well!

Coolio02: Not orcs. :) This is where the story turns a corner, I've realized, and I hope you like the rest of it as much as you like the beginning. Thank you and enjoy!

Elwen: Nope, not offended. It takes more than honest criticism to offend me. ; ) Rasaras is fun to write because (as you may see later on) he often does not think before he speaks. But I'm giving stuff away. Erestor will definitely be called to answer for his words! And, sorry, the twins are not born yet... this all takes place at about 1800 SA, so it will be a while yet before they grace Imladris with their presence. I know Elves don't like cats, but that doesn't mean that they aren't reminiscent of felines at times. :) Glad you enjoyed the chapters, and thank you for your kind words!

ann: Thank you so much! Realism is hard to do, though I'm honored that you think I succeeded. I hope you enjoy the rest of the fic!

sugar is your friend: I'm glad you enjoyed "Snowballs"! Thank you so much for your review!

Coming Soon: Chapter Six: Lost in the Flood