Glorfindel paced anxiously in Lord Elronds study. Having forgone the evening meal, he knew that Lorasar would be arriving any minute, and Galdrion also. He had been too angry to speak upon hearing of Galdrions demands, and it was all he could do to not march down the hall and apprehend Galdrion personally, casting him and his sorry brown hide so far beyond Imladris Lor would never be plagues by him again. He looked up, as the door opened, and Lorasar entered the room, her face white. He went over to her slightly trembling form, and drew her in to his embrace, smiling as he felt the dagger sheathed firmly within the folds of her gown. He should have known. But the poignant moment of comfort between the two was abruptly broken, as the other door flew open, and Galdrion marched in, a look of fury struggling to break on his features.
"Lorasar," he ground out, keeping a chair between himself and the embracing couple, for fear he would lunge at the now pale female that had defied him.
"Galdrion" she spat, her fear having fled in the wake of Galdrions comfort, to be replaced by cold, unrelenting fury.
"You must be the Lord Glorfindel. Tell me. Has my wife given you pleasure more willingly than she gave to me?"
Glorfindel let a low growl sound deep within his chest, feeling wrath curl through him, as he strained to reach the insolent sand runner.
Lorasar restrained him by placing a hand upon his arm.
"Glorfindel. Let me handle this. He wants you to react." Glorfindel sat then, his hands gripping the arms of the chair so tightly, she half wondered why it didn't splinter.
"I am no longer your wife, Galdrion."
"You will address your ruling Lord with respect!" Galdrion spat out, raising his hand to deliver a stinging blow. Lorasar stood, not flinching, as she raised her own hand, and caught his wrist before it came within a hairs breadth of her face.
"If you touch me again, I will kill you myself Galdrion. I no longer belong to you, and no longer do you have any claim over me."
"You cannot replace my claim with this males! You are not your own to give!"
Glorfindel stood then, protectively placing his hands on his mates shoulders.
"She was free from her first step within Eldar lands, and her heart is her own to give. Raise a hand to my wife again, and I will remove it."
Galdrion sneered.
"How quaint. But are you not forgetting something, Lorasar? By the laws of our people, you bare not legally bound to this male, for you are still married to me. And I choose not to divorce you, nor give him your hand. So still, you belong with me, both legally and bindingly." He sat down, content for now to not punish Lorasar. That would come later, in the privacy of his own rooms, when he could renew his claim upon her.
"Galdrion, your foreign customs are void in this land. I chose to divorce you, you have no say in the matter, for on the grounds of abuse and rape, any binding contract is void in our lands. So unless I am on your home sands and you reclaim me, I am nothing to you. No longer am I a Sand Runner, but one of the tree dwellers. My home is here, with my people in Imladris" Lorasar spat out, Glorfindel smiling coldly at the fire in her voice.
Galdrion slowly turned a bright shade of red, his face set in hard lines, betraying his cruelty, malice and resentment.
"This isn't over," he ground out, before getting up and going to the door.
"I will reclaim what is mine, pale Lord, so I'd watch her very carefully. You never know when something may happen. Accidents can be most unfortunate" he turned and stalked from the room, already a scheme forming in his dark mind, half mad with jealousy and rage. Lorasar sat down in the lap of Glorfindel, and he drew her to him, feeling her light trembling as he pressed her closer.
"He will not harm you," he murmured to her.
"I know," she whispered back. "But it's not me I'm worried about…"
Erestor sat at his desk once again, waiting for his visitor to reappear. The past few days they had passed in companionable silence, her pretending to read one text or another, he pretending to be busy with his paperwork (which had begun to mount up). They both continued to steal their little looks at one another, and he caught himself wondering more than once what she would look like without the obstruction of the face veil. She herself had read the same line thirty six times, as her mind went over and over all the seemingly harmless conversations they had had, about nothing in particular, that had formed a bond between the two that ran far deeper than their mutual love of books. It was getting to the stage where he would find any excuse possible to speak to her, a passing comment, a question about her old home. Until now, it had seemed he had hit upon the perfect solution.
"Sahara?" he asked tentively, almost afraid that she would refuse his suggestion to spend more time with him.
"Yes?" she asked hopefully, hoping that he would speak to her, beyond the seemingly pointless chatter they normally engaged in.
"I woul like to compose a text upon your people and their habits, their society. Traditions, customs. That kind of thing. I was hoping to use your endless supply of knowledge upon the subject to aid me. Would you be interested?"
"Well, if it aims to further the information of your people than yes. But you must understand, my home land is not the most pleasant of places, as I'm sure you understand. Why would you want me to help you? Surely Galdrion could be of more assistance than I."
Erestor grimaced. His plan was almost falling to pieces around him. "Well.." he began slowly, trying to find a way to propose his reasoning behind asking her in a way that would not completely embarrass him. "I had hoped to spend some more time getting to know you." And he had completely ruined all hope of not embarrassing himself with that one phrase. Sahara's cheeks reddened slightly.
"You want to talk to me?" she asked quietly. No male she had ever known had been interested in hearing her opinion. Rumil had been kind to her, but had no mind for politics or history.
"Well, yes. If you wouldn't mind."
She looked up at him shyly. "I'd like that."
Galdrion fumed, as he saw Sahara and the dark haired librarian leave the library, heads bent together, talking about some matter of historical importance or another. How dare she! Spurn he, her ruling Lord and master, especially to be with another man. The insolence was enough to bring tears of frustration to his eyes. First Lorasar, then Sahara. He fully intended to get them both back, no matter how many hides he had to pierce with his blade in the process. First he would get back his youngest wife, Sahara. Then he would see about arranging a convenient 'accident' for that pale Lord that had laid a claim upon Lorasar…
He was not the only one watching the two blissfully unaware elves waling up the hall. three pairs of eyes followed them also, with evil smiles upon there faces. This was going to be more fun than Glorfindel and Lorasar had been!
A/N sooo. How can they see Erestor blossoming love for Sahara, and not have a say in it. Don't worry. Their nasty little heads are full of plans for those two! Imladris match makers. Now….am sooo happy! Will be receiving my DVD copy of Labyrinth in a matter of days. WOOHOO! But moving right along…Galdrions gonna get it. But unfortunately, he has to get some other people first. You thought you were angry with him before? Wait for the next chapters!
And ookatoo thankyou for your review. I love hearing from new people. Any ideas?
Crecy, stop following the chocolate footprints for half a second. What do you think of this chapter? Lol. Okay. U can go back to following the trail now. But I'll warn you…Glorfindel's not there. I got him first! Lol I left you a piece in the living room
And Twinslover, you can have the twins this week if you like...but only if you review! lol