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Chapter 6.0
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Glorfindel and Legolas finally made it to the battle grounds, after weaving their way through hoards of servants who were helping prepare food and supplies for the warriors. An Elven horn sounded in the din, blown by a sentinel whom they had passed on the way to the Western border. The Mirkwood and Rivendell elves alike retreated and, noticing the two golden elves approach, went towards them for further instructions.
'Wait,' Legolas said simply, so they did.
A moment later, a white flag was waved by one of Legolas' warriors, a symbol for truce and negotiation.
'No!' the orc leader was yelling to the men, baring his teeth. 'It is a trap!'
'I trust the elves to hold their honour,' one man said, and many of the others nodded in agreement.
The orcs growled in response, but acquiesced.
With their Elven eyes, Glorfindel and Legolas noticed that the other party was honouring their white flag and they carefully approached.
'Who is the stepfather of the woman you seek?' Legolas said majestically, making a rare display of his princedom.
'I am.' A disheveled, fierce-looking man limped towards them, grimacing from the pain in his wounded knee. 'What do you want?' he demanded rudely.
'To speak with you,' the prince said with eyes as cold as ice.
'And with the leader of your clan,' Glorfindel called out, and another man stepped forward.
'What is this about?' the chief asked, not unkindly.
'We wish to discuss Lasswen's well-being.'
'Is she safe?'
'Safer than she ever was with him,' Legolas said with disgust, nodding towards the gruff man beside him.
'And what of us?' the leader of the orcs asked in his gravelly voice.
'We have no business with you,' the warrior said dismissively. 'And you have no business with these men.'
'Although you must still honour the truce,' the chief warned.
The orc made a biting motion at him, but said nothing further.
'Come,' Legolas said, indicating that the two men should follow him. 'We have much to discuss.'
'Where are we going?' Lasswen's stepfather asked. 'How do we know that you're not kidnapping us? We will not dare enter your city.'
'We would never think of inviting you,' Legolas said; behind his back, Glorfindel shot an apologetic look at the clan chief.
'Be careful what you say, elf, lest your father finds himself childless ere I leave this place.'
'Lasswen will find herself an orphan before that happens,' Legolas replied through gritted teeth, his voice shaking with impatience.
Glorfindel, too, was upset and placed a threatening hand on the hilt of his sword.
The small group walked until they were just out of sight of the battlers, but still within auditory range if help was needed.
'Speak,' the clan chief said with crossed arms. 'Who are you and what do you want?
'I am Legolas, prince of Mirkwood.'
'I am Glorfindel, warrior of Rivendell.'
'Rivendell? You have come a long way for a missing woman,' the chief observed.
'I came a long way for an unnecessary battle,' Glorfindel replied coolly.
The two men appeared to size up their companions before speaking.
'I am Saeros, chief of this village.'
'I am Tuor, Lasswen's stepfather.'
At the mention of Lasswen's name, Legolas started to tremble with rage.
'I found Lasswen near our Western border about a fortnight ago,' the prince told Saeros. 'She was weak with thirst and hunger, and her body was covered in large bruises.'
The chief remained silent.
'Upon closer inspection, I realized that two of her ribs were broken and her ankle was twisted. When I asked her what happened, she said . . .' Legolas paused for a moment, then, '. . . she said he did it – her stepfather.'
'Lies,' Tuor spat. 'That little vixen is telling lies. I would never lay a hand on her.'
'She ran away from home,' Legolas continued, ignoring Tuor's comments. 'She could not live there any longer. It is not a suitable place for a young woman to live.'
'Our village?' Saeros inquired, but Glorfindel shook his head.
'Nay, his home.'
'Surely you do not believe them, my lord?' Tuor said to the village leader. 'They have kidnapped her and now they want to get rid of us so there is no one to lead the battle.'
'You can ask her yourself if you would like,' Glorfindel said. 'However, she may be hesitant to see him again.'
'What then, Tuor?' Legolas said with a sweet cruelty. 'Will you be hanged? Or banished?'
Tuor paled slightly and did not reply.
Saeros looked from one elf to the other, as if trying to decipher whether or not they were telling the truth.
'Where is Lasswen now?' he asked.
'In the palace,' Legolas said.
'Is she being taken care of? Is she safe?'
'Always.'
If Saeros saw the glint of brotherly protection in the prince's eyes, he did not comment on it.
'My lord?' Tuor inquired uncertainly.
'Come,' Saeros said suddenly. 'We have a battle to continue.'
Legolas and Glorfindel looked at him in surprise, but his back had already turned.
'Good decision, my lord,' Tuor said, sighing in relief.
'I certainly think so,' Saeros said. 'Those orcs will never know what hit them.'
The elves' ears perked up slightly.
'Orcs?' Tuor asked.
'Aye, the orcs,' Saeros responded. 'Who else is going to help the elves get rid of the orcs if not us?' He turned back and secretly winked at the two elves.
'Well, I'll be,' Glorfindel murmured, chuckling.
'But, my lord, what about Lasswen?' Tuor questioned.
'What about her? She is safe with the elves. If she ever wants to return, she shall. Now you, Tuor . . .'
Tuor cowered away from the sudden rage that emanated from Saeros' being.
'. . . You have been warned on previous occasions. I have heard complaints about you before and reports concerning your . . . aggression, but I often overlooked them since you were such a valued member of our community . . . No longer.'
'My lord, surely you do not mean—?'
'You are banished, Tuor. Go spread your filth in other areas of Middle Earth, for it is not wanted here.'
Satisfied with the way things had turned out, the elves followed them to rejoin the battle . . .
. . . Except now, instead of the elves versus the men and orcs, it was elves and men versus the orcs, just like days of old . . .
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Chapter 6.5
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With the men on their side, it did not take long for the elves to force the orcs to flee. Mirkwood was safe once more . . . for the time being . . . The elves knew that Mirkwood would never be completely safe, for a shadow was constantly growing the in the East . . . So the Elves tried to make the most of their times of peace. There was to by merrymaking tonight, both to celebrate the victorious battle and to introduce Lasswen to her new life in Mirkwood . . . not to mention the sudden disappearance of Lasswen's cruel stepfather . . .
There was so much joy in the Elven lands . . . but there was pain as well. Warriors, brothers, friends, fathers . . . all had been lost during the battle. Tears poured down the cheeks of young elflings as they clung to their mothers, widows sought the open arms of friends, warriors mourned together for their fallen comrades . . .
But through it all, there was only one elf that Glorfindel's heart ached for.
Once the battle was over, he returned to the Healing Houses and waited anxiously by Erestor's side, yearning for him to wake up. He called his name numerous times and sang him songs from Gondolin . . . but the elf never opened his eyes.
'How long will it be before he awakens?' Glorfindel asked a Healer for what might have been the fiftieth time.
'I do not know, my lord,' the Healer admitted. 'These things take time.'
'Perhaps you would wish to join the festivities, my lord?' another Healer suggested. 'We can send word if anything changes.'
'Nay,' Glorfindel refused politely. 'My heart does not feel like merrymaking tonight.'
'As you wish.'
And the Healers left him alone in the room with the sleeping elf.
"Wake up, Erestor," he mentally called to the fallen advisor, allowing his eyes to fall shut. "Please, wake up. At this moment, nothing would make me happier than to see you wake up and tell you all the things that I have wanted to tell you for a long time . . ."
'Glorfindel . . .' Erestor mumbled in his sleep, and the blond's eyes shot open . . . but that was all there is.
Weary from the battle, Glorfindel pulled a chair up to the other elf's bed and rested his head down on his folded arms.
'I will be here when you awaken, Erestor, my Erestor,' he said, before succumbing to his fatigue and falling asleep.
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'He really does seem to love him, does he not, Legolas?' Lasswen asked, watching Glorfindel from the doorway.
'Aye,' Legolas agreed, allowing an arm to drape casually over her shoulder.
They had come to the Healing Houses in search of Glorfindel, hoping to lure him away to the festivities. Upon seeing this intimate scene, however, they changed their minds and decided that it was best not to intrude on this private moment.
'From what I am aware of, they have just met recently in Rivendell,' Legolas said, taking a sip from his wine glass.
'Well, love works in strange ways,' Lasswen said with a soft glint in her grey eyes. 'I hope that when I am in love, I will experience the same type of feelings that Glorfindel is feeling now, except . . .'
'Except?'
'. . . I would want my lover to be conscious,' she teased.
'I am uncertain about that,' Legolas said, rotating his glass in his hand.
'What do you mean?' she asked, sipping from her own glass.
'Well, whoever you choose, he would have to get through me first,' he said toughly.
Lasswen swatted him on the arm playfully and the two of them left, making their way back to the Great Hall.
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That night, Erestor awakened slowly; the ache was subsiding from his body and his thoughts were beginning to clear. His eyes fluttered open and took in unfamiliar surroundings.
"The Healing Houses," he realized, seeing a basket of herbs and a roll of bandages on a dresser nearby.
Very slowly and very carefully, lest the pain return, Erestor sat up . . . and was pleasantly surprised to see Glorfindel sleeping peacefully at the side of his bed.
'Glorfindel,' Erestor called softly, and the golden elf immediately woke up.
'Erestor!' he exclaimed. 'You are awake!' He looked as if he would like nothing better than to rush up to the elf and take him into his arms, but he restrained himself to prevent the elf from further harm. 'How are you feeling?'
'Like I have been hit with a boulder,' Erestor replied with a hesitant grin.
'I . . .' Glorfindel began, but then he trailed off as if uncertain what he should say.
'I . . . I am happy that you are here, Glorfindel,' Erestor said, somewhat flustered at his nearness.
Glorfindel smiled and laid a trembling hand on Erestor's own.
The other elf looked at it for a moment and his whole body stiffened in response.
'I apologize!' Glorfindel said quickly. 'I must have been caught up in the moment.'
'Glorfindel, listen, I . . .' Now it was Erestor's turn to trail off uncertainly.
'Erestor . . .'
'Are we friends, Glorfindel?' the advisor asked suddenly.
'Yes,' the blond slowly replied. 'But . . . if you would allow me to . . . to . . . er . . . court you, perhaps we can become something more . . .?' Glorfindel said boldly, a reddish hue appearing on his cheeks.
'Oh,' Erestor said.
'Of course, if you do not want—' Glorfindel hastily began, but Erestor interrupted him.
'I am flattered, Glorfindel,' he said. 'Yes, I would be honoured if you court me.'
'Are you sure?' Glorfindel asked. 'Because if not, we can remain friends . . . but if you really do want me to be your lover then . . .' The warrior sighed and ran a hand through his hair in agitation. 'I am doing this all wrong. I apologize, Erestor. I know that I must be coming on a little quickly – I hardly know you! But . . .' He looked directly into the advisor's eyes now. 'But I know that I have never felt this way before. I do not want to frighten you away, but I want you to know that nothing would make me happier.'
Erestor watched him silently.
'May I court you?' Glorfindel finished.
'Yes, I would be honoured,' Erestor said again, 'but . . .'
'But?'
'But I am afraid, Glorfindel.'
'Afraid?' Glorfindel echoed, shifting himself from the chair to the bed, beside Erestor. 'What are you afraid of?'
'That you may discover I am not good enough for you,' Erestor replied, allowing his defenses to crumble.
'Why would you ever think that, Erestor, dear Erestor?'
'You are a warrior of Rivendell! I am just a lowly advisor . . . Anyone would choose you over me. Is that not obvious?' Erestor hung his head in shame.
'I would not,' Glorfindel said quietly.
Erestor looked up to gaze into the warriors deep eyes.
'And I never want you to think that way! I just want you to be yourself and not try to change yourself into something that you think I may like "better".'
'But what if you are displeased with whom I turn out to be?' Erestor said shakily.
'I could never be displeased with you, Erestor,' Glorfindel said, moving closer. 'You make me happy . . .'
And then they kissed.
Their first kiss.
It was everything that Erestor had expected it to be – soft and hard at the same time, gentle and firm, tender and loving . . .
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Good and evil…
Sun and moon…
Water and fire…
Everything was composed of a duality, opposites, each concept of dark countered by a stream of light.
Erestor was the personification of "duality", for he led two different lives—one around his closest friends, and the other around everyone else. To some, he was a comfortable presence—a strong, supportive friend and ally. But to many, he was naught more than the Chief Advisor of Lord Elrond, an experienced, rather intimidating intellectual of high status in the hierarchy of Rivendell. But
It was the first lifestyle that he chose to show now. It was this first lifestyle that Glorfindel fell in love with.
It was the only lifestyle that Glorfindel would ever see from this point forward.
Now they could whistle together . . .
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Author's Note: Hey everyone. I'm sorry I haven't been updating as often as I – and you! – would have liked, so I thank you all for your patience and loyalty to reading this till the end. lol. I hope that you enjoyed this final installment and have some constructive criticism to offer me ;) Cheers!
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