Finuial entered the room, laying the herbs down on the desk. Glorfindel was lying on the bed he had slept in since the dark haired elf had arrived; he was facing the elfling and the darkling elf still slept. The healer wondered at what point they should become concerned about his constant sleeping and made a mental note to speak to Rosuil about it later.
The healer crossed the room to collect the pestle and mortar that had been left on one of the side tables, giving him the opportunity to gaze at Glorfindel as he passed.
He stopped dead.
"Elbereth Glorfindel! What did you do?" he asked upon seeing the black eye that was rapidly appearing on the young elf's face. The healer sighed heavily as he picked up the appropriate salve and sat on the edge of Glorfindel's bed to treat the wound.
"He struck me in his sleep" Glorfindel replied before continuing to describe what had occurred in the healer's absence.
Finuial was surprised; the elfling seemed so frail and positively helpless in his sleep. After listening to Glorfindel's tale, he said, "So he would not give you his name?
Glorfindel felt inexplicably like the healer was trying to suggest that his elf was deliberately concealing this from them and felt he should defend him, though he could not imagine why, "I think perhaps he did not hear the question," he finally replied rather vaguely.
Gil-Galad entered the healing house as he had done every day since the elfling had been brought here. The healer and Glorfindel both made to rise; but he gestured for them to remain as they were.
"What happened?" he asked upon seeing the injury to the young elf.
Finuial who had just finished treating the elfling's eye replied, "it seems that the young one still has some fight in him My Lord Gil-Galad"
He tried to lie absolutely still. He had listened carefully and he had thought hard, trying to recall everything he knew about Glorfindel of Gondolin. One thing he remembered with clarity was that Glorfindel of Gondolin was of the Noldor, and though he had failed to notice until the healer had arrived, both the healer and Glorfindel of Balar spoke with that distinctive Noldorin lilt.
Though this he knew, he had to accept that the golden haired elf had treated him kindly and comforted him, and he had even heard the elf defend his actions to the healer. He had not realised he had struck the elf. He could not understand why he would defend him. Why? When he was wanted dead, did Glorfindel defend him, it made no sense.
The Noldo healer's words echoed in his head, Lord Gil-Galad. Lord Gil-Galad? Wasn't he the king of the Noldor?
Suddenly he was very glad to be scholarly, despite the teasing his brother had given him. His heart contracted in pain; oh he would suffer his teasing till the end of days to have him back!
A voice of reason bid him to control his emotions so as to not draw attention to himself.
He was unsure, but if this Gil-Galad was the King of the Noldor his situation was graver than he had thought possible, despair grew within him.
Involuntarily he tensed as he felt someone sit upon the bed and begin to stroke his hair, though he calmed a little recognising the elf's scent to be Glorfindel's.
His thoughts were coursing through his mind, the flash of swords, the sound of metal upon metal and the screaming of she-elves were occasionally punctuated by the sight of two perfectly blue compassionate eyes, and the voices talking softly about him all melded into one and he dosed.
"Nay! I won't let you!!!" he screamed, opening his eyes wide and moving away from the elf that was touching him, he froze as he came back to himself, and upon seeing three elves observing him in surprise.
"You were dreaming" Glorfindel said softly, advancing upon the elf and lifting his hand to soothe the elfling.
Glorfindel felt hurt when the dark haired elfling flinched away from his touch, ((Aiya! He is terrified! ))
The darkling elf's eyes moved between the two dark haired elves, his glare, half terror, half, accusation. A voice within him screamed ((they do not know who you are, there is still hope)) but he now felt little hope.
Gil-Galad was startled, he would have expected to see relief, confusion; perhaps even a little fear in the young one's eyes, but this blind terror was unexpected.
((What happened to you, that makes you fear your own kind with such venom))
It was the healer who first spoke, with concerned green eyes resting upon the small elf, curled defensively against the headboard of the bed. "How do you feel, young one?" he asked gently.
He didn't answer, couldn't answer. He heard his brother's last words in his head.
((Promise me you will stay alive, you must live, for all of us that are gone)) and he had promised it.
Tears fell from his eyes and he allowed Glorfindel to pull him into an embrace, keeping the golden haired elf between him and the dark haired 'king'.
Gil-Galad rose, shooting a questioning look at the healer, who looked back at him in concern, and advanced towards the bed.
Glorfindel felt the elf in his arms stiffen, and glanced over his shoulder at the Elf Lord. But Gil-Galad did not stop his advance until he was seated on the side of the bed and could see the elfling's face.
He spoke softly, in as comforting a voice as he could muster not wanting to add to the elfling's distress, "Suilad (greetings), young one, I am Gil-Galad, and this" he motioned towards the healer, "is Finuial, this must be very confusing for you"
Glorfindel tightened his hold on the elfling, who's crying had quietened with the Elf Lord's words, but who was now shaking like a leaf.
"Will you tell us how to contact your family? They must be worried" Gil-Galad continued, his eyes full of compassion.
Watery dark eyes stared at him, "I am the last of my kin," he answered in a voice that was remarkably steady.
Gil-Galad frowned and glanced at the healer who was also frowning and looked increasingly concerned.
"What is your name, young one?" Gil-Galad asked softly.
The elfling's thoughts raced, he knew he must answer this question; to delay would be to cause suspicion.
"Erestor" he replied, ((Aye)) he thought ((his tutor's pet name for him would serve him well)) for a moment he saw his tutor's bloodied face lying in the dirt, and he whimpered.
"Erestor" Glorfindel echoed quietly, guiding the elfling's head to rest under his chin.
"Welcome to Balar, Erestor" Gil-Galad stated. The elfling's tears hid the look of fear that still lingered in his eyes and Gil-Galad smiled at him reassuringly, "I must leave you now, but I will visit you again."
