Chapter 5
A smile played on Elrond's lips as he entered the room. Erestor had curled up in his sleep, resting his head on his arms but one hand was still entangled with Glorfindel's, who was sittting on the stair, head slumped forward and resting on the bed.
"Glorfindel?" Elrond whispered softly, squeezing the seneschall's shoulder. Weary blue eyes gazed sleepily at him.
"Hmmm?"
"How is he?" Elrond nodded towards Erestor, "His sleep seems to be peaceful this time."
Glorfindel nodded, slowly stretching his legs, "He had a sort of emotional break-down during the night," the blond explained, "I comforted him till he fell asleep again, he has been sleeping fitfully since then."
"Erestor?" Elrond's eyes were wide with disbelief, "An emotional break-down?"
"Yes." Glorfindel's eyes narrowed intently, "He is capable of emotion, you know."
"Peace, meldir," Elrond took a step back, "I was merely surprised. Did you find out what happened?"
"Do you remember what happened shortly after I had been… send back to Arda?"
Elrond frowned. "What exactly do you mean?"
"At night," Glorfindel sighed, "When I had the nightmares… you remember?"
"Aye I
do," Elrond's eyebrows were almost meeting each other now, "Your
nightmares of your… death were so intense that the memories somehow
manifested themselves… your room almost burnt once…"
"Exactly,"
Glorfindel sighed, discomfort obvious on his face, "I think almost
the same thing happened to Erestor… he must have relived a
particularly painful memory for some reason and the memory manifested
in the blood…"
"Glorfindel," Elrond sighed exasperatedly, "That only happened to you because yiu had been reborn, had died before… such things usually don't happen."
"But perhaps Erestor…"
"No," Elrond cut him off, "He was alwas a scribe, a councilor, I have known him a long time Glorfindel, I would know if he had been reborn. The blood must have come from somewhere else?"
"And where?" Glorfindel asked sarcastically, "Just dropped from heaven?"
"That," Elrond smiled grimly, "Is exactly what I want you to find out, seneschall."
Dazed Glorfindel stared after his lord, shaking his head. Even Elrond seemed to be a little bit out of character.
He was actually humming a small tune as he strode into the great hall. A tune, which a certain young elfling had sung for him ages agi and which was totally out of place in the dark castle. He knew that some of the orcs were looking curioulsy at him but he chose to ignore that for now. Things were prpcessing far too nicely at the moment to scare off the slaves.
He grinned, seating himself at the black table as he drew his knife and carefully positioned his left arm over the silver bowl.
More than a month had passed since he had sent his newest servant away and he knew that he should have reached his goal soon. It was almost time.
Barak winced as the silver blade prazed his skin, cutting deeply into his wrist. A small trail of blood trickled down, running along his fingers before the drops gathered in the bowl. He could feel the power coursing through his blood. A power he would need in a few moments. Barak frowned and concentrated, forcing his natural heeling power to speed up and close the wound. Only seconds later no more than a faint silver scar was left.
Humming once more he hung the bowl with his blood over the fire place, waiting for the dark red liquid to evaporate.
"Duathion…" he chanted as fumes rose into the air and power was released into the room, "Duathion… by the bound of blood I call thee… hear me…" he smiled as his mind linked with Duathion's and raised both arms, speaking in an ancient language that Melkor himself ha taught him. The fire rose, encirling the bowl, melting the silver that dropped into the flames with a screaming chorus of hissing sounds that mingled with the coarse words he spoke.
Suddenly an absolute blackness filled the halls and a strange cold raced through him, glazing the walls in a thin coat of ice. The darkness retreated but part of it seemed to be caught under the ice, angrily vibrating against the ice.
Barak smiled. The spell had been completed. Soon everything he needed would be in his hands. Or rather everyone.
"Ow!" Elrond jumped up, angrily glaring at the chair he had just tried to sit down in. Grimly he rubbed his aching backside, giving the pinecone another murderous glare.
"See?" a light, laughing voice to his left said, "I told you he would fall for it."
Elrond stared as Elrohir slowly came out behind one of the many tapestries that adorned the walls.
The soft laugh was mirrored as Elladanstepped out of the curtains, grinning at his father.
"But… but…" Elrond started to say, changing his mind and jumping forward, burying his sons in a tight hug, "We didn't expect you back for at least another forthnight!"
"We came early," Elladan started, returning the hug with almost as much enthusiasm as his brother, "We wanted to surprise you," Elrohir conmtinued, "And," his expression darkened slightly, "There are a few things we have to talk about with you…"
"Can it wait until after dinner?" Elrond asked, "It's almost time."
"It can," the twins said in unison, stepping back.
"Good." Elrond grinned wickedly, crossing his arms in front of his chest, "In that case you two can take this… offending item," he pointed briefly at the pinecone, "And give it a new residence outside, where no one, hear me, I mean absolutely no one could by accident step or sit down on it."
"Yes Adar."
"And since you seem to be so fond of pines, you can help the gardeners with them for the next… let's say… 50 years."
"But Adar!…"
"70." Elrond's eyebrows rose, daring his sons to utter another word of protest.
"Very well," Elrohir sighed after a nudge from Elladan's elbow, "Anything else?"
"Yes, if you see Erestor about, please send him to me."
"We will." Elladan nodded, dragging his twin out of the room.
Bellmaethorian frowned, urging his horse to a halt and soundlessly sliding to the ground. A foul smell lingered on the wind. Slowly he circled the area, checking the ground for tracks. He had decided to travel to Imladris first, knowing that the orince had friends there and was already close to the borders. Close enough to the Last Homely House that nothing evil should linger nearby. And yet, the stench evoked in him an unexplainable feeling of danger. He stopped as he suddenly encountered something. Still holding his mount by the rains he knelt down to the tracks, comitting them to memory and measuring them with the span of his fingers.
The tracks seemed to be footprints, about the same size of a well-grown human. The prints were deep, indicating that whichever creature had left these tracks was heavy, at least twice or three times the weight of a man, he guessed. The feet, however, ended in a three-fingered claw with sharp talons on each toe. Carefully he got up, straining his hearing to make sure that the creature was not lurking nearby. His frowned deepened as he noticed the broken twigs and leaves. Obviously the creature was tall as well, at least as tall as an elf, maybe even taller and walking on two legs.
He had never heard or read of such a creature.Shuddering he climbed back onto his horse. He would report this to the Imladris guard as soon as he was there. In safety.
A dark shadow moved in the bushes as Bellmaethorion rode away and stepped onto the clearing. A black muzzle rose, sniffing the wind that carried a low growl as the creature once more caught the scent of the elf. It irritatedly unfolded its wings as it stepped back into the shadow of the woods, black skin moving over rippling muscles and a nervously switching tail. It had been the wrong elf but it knew that the time would come. Soon. Its master would be pleased. It only had to remain hiden till the right elf came.
Dinner was a quiet and somewhat strange affair that evening. Elrond did not speak at all and kept stealing suspicious glances at Erestor when he thought that no one was looking. Glorfindel and Erestor only whispered to each other and looked equally suspiciously at Elrond while Lindir tried his best to start a conversation with the twins, who were far too busy with trying to figure out what was the mkatter with his father and their two former tutors. Even the servants did not dare to say anything.
"What do you think?" Elrohir whispered to his twin, taking the opportunity as another course was served.
"Don't know," Elladan hissed back, "Maybe they argued."
"Or maybe they already noticed some of what we have to tell father."
"Maybe."
Silence settled once more in the hall as the servants left, leaving their lords to pick at the food.
Miraculously Lindir had managed to convince the others into spending the remainder of the evening in the hall of fire and was now entertaining them by playing some songs on his harp.
Elrond throned in his chair, arms rested at his sides as he stared into the flames, while the twins sat on a bear-skin nearby, reclining against the wall and talking softly to each other.
Lindir smiled as he gazed at the two identical faces from under lowered lashes. No matter what, they had grown into two wonderfuly elves; he only hoped that their father would still see that as well when he found out.
"Lindir?" Glorfindel suddenly asked.
"Yes, mylord?" Lindir turned, looking inquiringly at the blond seneschall who was sitting cross-legged on the sofa he shared with Erestor.
"Why don't you sing something?"
"A wonderful idea," Elrond commented, "I think we could all do with a little distraction."
Quite some songs and a few rounds of wine later the six elves were all sitting in front of the fire place, chatting avidly.
"Very well played, my lord," Lindir said as Elrond gave him back the harp, "But the text was somewhat…" his ears turned red.
Elrond laughed, grinning at the blushing minstrel, "I was but a soldier in Gil-Galad's army," he said, "And soldier's songs are all I know. Maybe sopmeone else has a more appropriate song?" he glaned hopefully around.
"Of course," Glorfindel started, plucking the instrument from Lindir's hands, "And I know just who."
Erestor stared at the harp Glorfindel had just thrust into his hands while the others glanced expectantly at him.
"Oh no," he protested, shaking his raven hair, "I cannot… I havn't…"
"Please do, Erestor," Elrond interrupted.
"I do not have the voice, my lord," Erestor squirmed as Elrond raised his eyebrows, "Well, maybe," he acceded, "But I haven't sung for a long time and…"
"Please do," Elladan and Elrohir butted in at once as he trailed off, "We have never heard you sing."
"Very well," Erestor sighed, carefully pulling a few strings, "I shall."
He only hummed at first and then sang, a slow, melancholy melody in a strange language that sounded almost elvish.
"Thank you for forcing me to stay on after dinner," Erestor said as he walked through the garden with Glorfindel.
"It was as much my pleasure as everyone else's," Glorfindel grinned, "Though I must admit you amazed me. You have the most beautiful singing voice."
"Thank you, lord seneschall," Erestor said graciously.
"Please sit down," Glorfindel quickly caught Erestor's arm as the advisor stumbled over a small rock and led the raven-haired elf to a small stone bench beneath an enormous beech.
Ithil had long ago risen and long, silvery shadows gently caressed the trees and flowers around them. For a while they sat next to each other, simply looking at their surroundings.
"What did it mean?" Glorfindel finally asked.
"What?" Erestor stared at the blond in confusion.
"Your song," Glorfindel gentlx cupped Erestor's hand with his own, "None of us knew the language. What was it about?"
"Oh…" Erestor stuttered briefly, "It was not really a song, it was rather a poem, a description of images and feelings."
"Would you translate it for me?"
"I can try." Glorfindel released a breath he had not known he had been holding when Erestor finally answered.
"It goes like this:
a soft whisper of wind
no more than a gasp
gently caressing yelling leaves
fog stirring and swirling around them
waving at the lonesome wanderer
bent head under dew-smothered cobwebs
a soft murmur of thoughts
almost like the fog
circling and winding
around cloud-obscured heavens
all light is drawn
into just one more grey
that suffocates dark mountain peaks
quiet footsteps at a whispering stream
wisps of foam easily lost
a timid glance upwards
small budding cusps upon an
almost lifeless tree
caught so close to blossom
yet frozen in eternity."
Glorfindel gulped as the loneliness and desolation the poem spoke of made his eyes water and buried Erestor in his arms, blinking repeatedly.
"Glorfindel…" Erestor said slowly, struggling against the blond.
"Sch…" Glorfindel whispered, licking his suddenly dry lips, "You know that you are not alone; you have found a family here in Imladris."
"I know," Erestor whispered, a soft smile on his lips, "As have you."
"Yes.." Glorfindel breathed, gently cupping Erestor's chin and tilting the advisor's head upwards, "We both have…"
Erstor bilnked gain as their lips met in a slow kiss, unable to believe what was happening.
"Erestor?" Glorfindel asked, drawing back as he noticed the tear that was running over the advisor's face, "What is amiss?"
"Please…" Erestor moved out of Glorfindel's embrace, slowly standing up, "I… feel… for you," he said, pausing every now and then, "But please accept that this… us… can never be. I would ask you not to approach me in this manner again."
"But Erestor…" Glorfindel stared at the dark elf, ibviously confused, "Where is the problem? I know we are both male but…"
"No," Erestor vehemently shook his head, "I anm sorry, Glorfindel, but I can never be with you." He inhaled a long painful breath. "I am already bound to someone."
Glorfindel stared in shock, unable to react as Erestor turned and fled the place, running back into the house with his steps on the path resounding hollowly in Glorfindel's ears.
"Bound?" the blond whispered as he finally understood what Erestor had said, "Bound? But to whom?"
