Warnings: Slightly odd material. Very A-U, very disturbing to some people. Especially, perhaps, for a few picky Christians out there. So if, from the Summary, you can already tell that there may be some material in here that may be offensive to someone, please DO NOT read this story. It's just a lame little idea I thought up on a rainy night…
Disclaimer: Tolkien's characters belong to Tolkien. In this case, Elrond belongs to Tolkien, and the priest belongs to…well, no one. Probably just me, eh?
Anger Confession"Have a seat."
A look of slight guilt. Uncertainty. Nervousness.
The small, wooden stool creaked quietly in protest as the robed figure sat down silently upon it, giving it little strain, but enough so that the poor piece of wood had enough pressure to complain.
The dark-haired head turned slowly toward the small window in the wooden door, the soothing candlelight from the nearby altar reflecting gently in the black tresses that fell in graceful locks and braids down the elf's shoulders and about his face, only partially concealing the quiet look of anxiety on the ageless face.
"Begin." The aged, patient voice from behind the little window spoke coaxingly to the nervous figure outside. One he could not see well for the small wooden designs criss-crossing the tiny window, but one he knew was present nonetheless.
"Bless me Father, for I have sinned." The elf spoke quietly, folding his long hands over his lap and keeping his head bowed as he said the words. "It has been…several years since my last confession."
"I see." The voice replied calmly from the other side of the window. "So tell me then, my child, what sins do you bring before the Lord today?"
The look on the formerly nervous-looking elf's face turned to vague annoyance at the title he had been given, but he said nothing of it as his hands tightened and he spoke once more. "I am…experiencing severe emotional disorders." He said quietly. "…disorders from anger…severe anger."
"Go on." The voice urged on patiently.
The figure made a slightly strained face, pain coming to the gray eyes briefly as his fingers started playing plucking neurotically at the hems of his sleeves. "Anger that has brought…well, licentious thoughts to my mind, along with the contemplation of considerable bodily harm."
At that, one bushy gray eyebrow went up upon the face of the priest sitting behind the window. "Bodily harm? And whom were these thoughts directed to, my child?"
Again, another annoyed fidget. "A…a man I know. Human, in fact." The elf cast his eyes downward briefly as he finally made a mental note to stop fidgeting with his clothing, and instead started distractedly working at smoothing out the wrinkles he had now created in the velvety fabric. "A human who is to be my future son-in-law, if all should bode well for Middle Earth…"
"Your future son-in-law?" The priest asked again, sounding just a bit puzzled now. "So he is to marry your daughter then?"
"Yes." The elf replied softly. "Within the year."
"Ah, well, that is to be understood." The voice replied from the other side of the door. "Losing a daughter to another man is often very difficult for the parent. But do you feel no joy at this joining between them?"
"How am I to feel such joy when she is giving up her life for it?" The elf replied quietly again, sounding just a bit emotional now as he spoke.
The priest turned his head just slightly so he could catch a peek at the face of the speaker in front of him. His eyes softened when he saw the teary glimmer in the gray-eyed gaze still directed toward the ground. "Ah, yes." He said with a nod, folding his own hands and turning his eyes away once more. "Yet another marriage between the races of elves and men. I had quite forgotten that that was an issue in the matrimony."
"I can see that." The elf replied, raising a sleeve to swiftly dab his eyes before looking up again bravely at the ceiling and folding his hands tightly against his lap as if to try and stay the remaining tears. "But now I feel this terrible anger toward Aragorn…an anger that nearly led me to striking him when I last encountered him in Rivendell. I could have hit him clean across the yard, but I managed to restrain myself. Is that…is that a terrible sin, Father? Am I never to be forgiven for what I have felt?"
"No, no, nothing like that, my child." The priest replied as compassionately as the holy ones come. "God forgives all. Baleberries, he forgave the Romans didn't he?"
"Well, yes…"
"Now, you pay attention to me, Elrond." The priest continued speaking, steepling his fingers and giving the elf outside a calculating look. "I suggest that you pray hard about this, and accept God's forgiveness into your heart. And try to look upon your daughter's marriage from the very best point-of-view…"
"But she is going to DIE!" Elrond shouted out so unexpectedly that the priest jumped a few inches and a few candles waved timidly behind the stool. "How am I to give over these feelings when I am NEVER GOING TO SEE MY CHILD AGAIN? WHAT KIND OF CONFESSION WILL EVER REMOVE THE ANGER I FEEL TOWARD THAT GOD-FORSAKEN MORTAL WHO IS SENTANCING MY DAUGHTER TO DEATH?"
"Um…well…that is why I said you should pray…" The now-vaguely-intimidated priest replied shakily – but found himself nose-to-nose with an elven dagger that had been stuck right through the window merely inches from his wizened face. "Er…all right then…why don't you have a seat now, Mr. Peredhil?"
It took a moment of stiff silence, but at last Elrond seemed to deflate, sinking back onto the stool now with a slightly more audible creak than there had been before. "Blessed Spirit, I am already condemned to the Great Void…"
"Well, if you continue in your behavioral patterns that are purely a result of anger and lack of self-control, I would say that that very well may be your outcome." The priest responded in a slightly gruff tone, arranging himself carefully on his seat again and looking out at the elf with a critical eye. "Have you ever considered talking with your son-in-law about this?"
"Future son-in-law."
"All right, future son-in-law."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I fear that if I should see him again, I will not be able to restrain myself from hurting him as I was able to do before."
"I see. What if you have a friend go along with you? Do you have any friends, Elrond?"
"Yes…Glorfindel and Erestor…they are good to me, but I fear that they will not trust me either…"
"Good friends always give each other a second chance."
"Most of the time."
"Indeed."
Sighing slightly, the priest sank back against his chair and rubbed his stubbly chin thoughtfully. "So what do you plan to do about this then, Elrond? Will you try talking with Mr. Aragorn?"
Elrond gave a small sigh, his hands fidgeting unconsciously with his crimson robes once more. "I will…if you think that is best…"
"I do." The priest responded, a vaguely relieved smile coloring his face as he said this. "Now, go on. Come back when you have done this, and you may tell the Lord how it went."
Elrond nodded, standing to his feet and giving the priest another nod of gratitude before raising his eyes to the golden, beautifully presented crucifix that hung before the wall of the church, crossing himself, and then turning to leave at last.
Leaving the poor old priest himself to pull out the well-placed dagger from the small window.
Please review! I know, I know, you're probably all freaked out now after reading something as bizarre as that…so make yourselves some hot chocolate with lots of fluffy marshmallows and go watch Lord of the Rings to recover yourselves. But who knows? There may just be another chapter to add to this one if I know you all liked this one…