Chapter 39

Misunderstanding

The fiery chasm stood before him, a whip of fire in its terrible hands. A wicked grin played across the fiery face of the demon, and the golden elf stood there, motionless. He could not turn, he could not scream in his growing fear. He could only watch as the demon slowly made its way towards him, raising his whip ever higher. He loomed before the stricken golden elf, twice as tall as he was. But he was no elf; it was indeed a demon of might. It took delight in the screams of terrified elves, and it wanted more. It always wanted more. Desperate calls rang in his ear, and the golden elf flinched, realizing that he was about to lead his people to safety. But he had to face his fiery demon. Something ignited within him, and he raised his sword, bearing a determined look equal to the demon. And the fight commenced; the cries of his people were his motivation to defeat the enemy, but as powerful as he was, the demon was stronger. He was able to draw blood from the fiery demon and it howled a terrible cry that echoed in his mind. The demon fell towards the cliff, and the golden elf thought his victory was ensured. But it did not end there: the demon pulled him back, entangling its claws on his golden hair, and pulled him with it, down into the shadows. He let out a fearful shout and closed his eyes. He prepared himself for the darkness, for the pain that was promised as he fell, and he could only hear the demon laughing wicked, laughing at their promised death.

Glorfindel screamed into the night. Unsteady blue eyes scanned the dark room, preparing himself for the enemies that might come. For a moment, he was confused; heart pounding within his chest, sweat dripping from his forehead. He was shaking and he yearned for someone to hold him. But he was alone, just like that fateful day. He pulled the blanket over his head, shaking and sobbing at the nightmare. He needed someone to hold him. Get it together, he reminded himself as the tears fell from his eyes. No, he would not close his eyes again. If he did, he was sure to see the demon laughing again at his death.

"Lord Glorfindel," Erestor called out to the golden elf who sat across the table. It was supposed to be breakfast, but Erynlith and the others were already done with theirs, and Erestor was the only one to eat his. Luckily, Glorfindel had just risen up and sat with him on the table. "Are you alright? You seem to have had a bad night," he commented, taking notice of the other elf's puffy eyes and dismantled look.

"Yes," Glorfindel answered weakly and took little bite from his bread. "Is Eryn around?"

Erestor narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "She went out riding with Elladan and Elrohir. She should be back soon. Why?"

"Nothing in particular." The warrior shrugged and stood up, not bothering to excuse himself politely like he always did.

Odd, Erestor thought and went back to his cold breakfast.

In the gardens, Glorfindel waited at the usual bench where Erynlith sat when she waited for him from the barracks. He kept his thoughts to himself, trying to get himself together before she arrived. She would surely notice his overall look, how his tunic was wrinkled and his hair not yet braided. When he got out from the bed that morning, he could not rid of the puffy eyes from his sobs last night. He had been in Rivendell for months but never did he spend a night sleeping. It seemed to concern Elrond and Celebrían in a way, but the elf lord and his wife did not want to pry too much.

The neighing of horses snapped Glorfindel back to reality. He looked up expectantly, his eyes reaching the area where the horses were reared and dismounted. Three elves were laughing together as the guards offered to take their horses away. Glorfindel sighed in relief; Erynlith was there with Elladan and Elrohir. He wasted no more time; he quickly got into his feet and approached her.

"Ah, good morning, Glorfindel, tra-la-la," she sang cheerfully. "Have you eaten your breakfast?"

He did not answer. Instead, he pulled her good wrist and she followed. Elladan and Elrohir blinked at the suddenness of the captain, but decided to shrug it off.

"I think Lord Glorfindel is going to propose soon." Elrohir laughed as he and his brother marched to the main house.

"Aye, but Glorfindel will get a good scolding from Erestor first," added Elladan, snickering.

"It would be nice though," Elrohir mused. "I mean, Erfaron was never affectionate to others that much. Lord Glorfindel might be a good start." And the conversation continued until they reached the house and eventually greeted their parents and younger sister.

Back in the gardens, Glorfindel slumped back into the bench and sighed deeply. He was still holding Erynlith's hand, too tightly for her comfort, but she chose not to mention it. There was something written on Glorfindel's face that she could not interpret. Was it fear? Did his nightmares return again? Whenever he turned to her for comfort, mostly in the night, she would only give him words of encouragement. Little did she know that her words did not help him at all. No words could have scared the demon inside him. Erynlith placed her hand on top of him and squeezed, prompting him to look into her grey eyes.

"Are they back again?" She asked, carefully choosing her words.

"It was terrible," Glorfindel whispered.

She tried to smile although knowing it would not help. "I am here, Glorfindel. Talk to me. Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" She knew it was impossible for them to do so, especially when Aduial en Meleth was approaching; the other elves might think of something else, something far scandalous. But she would do anything to stop Glorfindel from shaking; he was not supposed to be like this. He was supposed the battle-ready Captain of Rivendell, who could single-handedly disembowel orcs and ride bridle-less horses. He was supposed to be mighty and stern and disciplined, not this trembling and sobbing elf beside her.

Glorfindel looked into her eyes. He looked somewhat hopeful at that offered, and he was willing to comply easily. But did she mean her words? There was doubt in him, and he searched for signs of doubt in her too. There was none; he could hardly believe it. When he nodded, Erynlith smiled and squeezed their hands together again.

"It will be alright, Glorfindel, tra-la," she assured again, and Glorfindel kissed her brow in thanks.

The moment Erynlith told Erestor her plan on staying in Glorfindel's chambers for the night, his dark eyes widened in disbelief. All of a sudden, he was furious and marched right into the grand bedchambers of Glorfindel to confront him. Everyone followed the furious counselor into the long passageway, including a worried Celebrían and Elrond, and a pair of amused brothers. Erestor, despite Erynlith's pleads, flung to large double doors open and found a surprised Glorfindel.

"Who do you think you are?!" Erestor roared as he grabbed Glorfindel by his collar. He was gritting his teeth. Years of being a warrior made him a terrifying opponent. And that claim sparked something in him, and everyone feared Erestor's wrath. There was always one thing to make him lose his patience, and that was anything concerning Erynlith.

Glorfindel only stared at the fuming elf in front of him.

"Do not think yourself too highly that you can claim Erynlith that fast!" Erestor shouted.

"Erestor, please!" Erynlith called out behind him. "This is not what you think it is! I am just trying to… Fine! Let's forget I said something to you, okay? Let him go." She got between them and pulled the glaring Erestor away. She spared an apologetic look at Glorfindel as she shut the doors behind her, taking Erestor and the other curious elves away from the scene.

No one could blame Erestor's action, certainly not Lord Elrond. It was already too long that he had almost forgotten that Erestor raised Erynlith as his daughter, and came to treat her like a sister now. If Elrond encountered someone who would claim Arwen, he would definitely be furious about it as well. There was no one to blame in the incident, but he felt sorry for the golden elf to face the wrath of Erestor too soon.

When Erynlith and Erestor were back into her chambers, she glared at him and sighed exasperatedly.

"Really, Erestor! What are you thinking? Do you think is a petty romantic stuff?! Do not make Aduial en Meleth an excuse! You know nothing about why I want to spend the night there, and it involves none of your wild imaginations!" She admonished him. Not only did Erestor confront Glorfindel in his own chambers, but he also insulted and shouted at him.

"I am sorry…" Erestor said obligingly. Then, he huffed and crossed his arms, still not letting go of his pride. "But not entirely sorry. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind as well. He seems to claim you every single day for himself. And I am worried that you…"

"What?" She challenged, preparing herself for the answer.

"I am worried that you might pledge yourself to him," Erestor admitted in a quiet voice. It was shameful to think of such a way, already being too possessive on his own right. He sighed deeply and murmured again: "I am sorry, Eryn. I do not wish to lose you any sooner, but I cannot deny that Glorfindel would suit you…"

"Erestor, please." Erynlith crossed the room and embraced him. "I will not pledge myself to anyone. Not yet, I think." She laughed and kissed his cheek. "I will torment you for a couple of hundred years more, tra-lo."

"Oh, really?" He simpered. "I thought you are only waiting for a certain Elvenking to court you."

Instantly, she flinched and turned away from him. No one had ever really mentioned that before. She thought everyone had forgotten about her complicated relation to him. Indeed, there was care and love and protectiveness between them, but they did not speak anymore since she left Greenwood. She had only heard from Amroth that Thranduil was now an Elvenking in the northern part of the forest. She guessed Thranduil was not interested in her anymore, and had probably found someone to spend his life with. And she would have to move on.

"Non-sense," she finally answered. "It has been a thousand years since I last saw him, tra-lay. I am sure the palace attendants are already watching over mischievous little elflings…"

"I wouldn't count on that," Erestor said regretfully. He shouldn't have mentioned Thranduil to her. He knew well that Erynlith did not entertain others during Aduial en Meleth because she was still hoping; one day maybe, that Thranduil would finally visit Rivendell and see her. But he never came, not even send a message.

"Promise me you would apologize to Glorfindel."

He sighed and nodded. "Very well."

"Anyway," Erynlith shifted the conversation elsewhere. "Can I spend the night in Glorfindel's room?"

As quickly as the words fell from her mouth, Erestor crossed his arms and glared. "No, you can't."

The golden forest was vast and cold.

As he looked behind, King Thranduil saw the Nandorian Elves of Lórinand assist each other in the hanging of the blue lanterns—the last preparation for the upcoming Aduial en Meleth. Earlier that day, King Amroth oversaw the progress in the kitchen and courtyard, while Thranduil isolated himself within his bedchambers. Snow had not fallen yet, but the weather was enough to make his words steam in the cold air.

Tonight, he wanted nothing to do with the preparations. He only wanted to see Lórinand. Standing beside the river Nimrodel had always sat on, Thranduil imagined how beautiful the river would be whilst frozen in ice. The sudden gust of cold air made him recoil in his thick robes; though Elves were not often subjected to chill or disease, as mortal Men were, Thranduil sometimes felt he could get sick. Raithon had always laughed it off; Santien would only grumble and shoo him away from the infirmary.

He really needed to get back to Greenwood.

His robes swept the damp earth, as he turned back towards the white fortress. Some of the Marchwardens greeted. He caught glimpse of the flock of minstrels huddled in the corner, practicing songs with their flutes, harps, and lutes. Thranduil ignored all of them. He went straight to a particular chamber, did not bother knocking on the door, and settled himself comfortably beside the ignited hearth.

Celairis glanced up from her blotched parchment, and smiled.

"I missed you at dinner," the King complained.

"You did?" She laughed and switched from one parchment to another. Her eyes quickly scanned the contents of the letter, before dipping her quill and writing something in reply. When it was done, she took another paper, read it again, signed, and set it aside.

Thranduil watched her with lazy eyes. "What are you even doing?"

Again, the counselor looked up, and then buried her nose back into her papers. "Reports, my King," she answered, writing again. "Haldamir sent a new report from Greenwood; has something to do with their Aduial en Meleth preparations." According to her fellow counselor, the Silvan folk were requesting for more wine and food for the event, and to celebrate it outside the fortress. Celairis knew the King would immediately disagree, fearing the evil slowly lurking in their forest. As a Silvan herself, she would want to spend the night outdoors, but the King would surely hear none of it.

"Why do they have to worry about that?" Thranduil stretched his aching arms and legs, and settled on the couch. "I left Raithon in charge, as always. They could have all the wine they want, just make sure no troubles would happen afterwards." He sighed. "You know Raithon lets everyone do whatever they want."

"As always, my King." Celairis laughed once more.

When silence followed, Thranduil could not help but just watch his Chief Counselor do her duties. She was scribbling again, reading without her lips moving, and reaching over for more papers. She had been a very industrious counselor these past thousand years, and for once, Thranduil thought of thanking her. But he did not know how. Then, he saw a lovely lavender dress hanging by the wardrobe. It was a high-collared silk gown, with dozens of small pearls sewed on the skirt's hem, and a matching golden necklace sat on the round table nearby.

"Where did you get that?"

Celairis's eyes darted to where his finger was pointing. "A gift from King Amroth," she answered. "For tomorrow's celebration. He said the fabric was too wide, that he had it cut into two dresses. He gave one to me."

The King yawned, uninterested. "I suppose he gave the other half to Nimrodel?"

"I am afraid not, my King," Celairis whispered warily. "He sent it somewhere else."

Next Chapter: Aduial en Meleth is here!

Author's Notes: Phew! Sorry for the delay in update! My dad arrived for a five-day vacation, so I was really busy. We watched a lot of movies and stuff. Yeah.

Okay, I think lots of people are anticipating the romance celebration. The draft has been prepared for a very long time now. If you want to suggest something, maybe something you are really rooting to happen (except Thranduil fabulously marching to Rivendell, probably), just tell me and maybe I could find a way to add it.

For this chapter, I guess it explored Eryn and Erestor's relationship a little more, and Eryn's take on her relationship with Thrandy. We've seen Thrandy sulk about it, but Eryn's been so busy with Glorfindel that she did not even had a time to stop and think—until Erestor mentioned it, that is.

*Asmodeus Black - Oh, believe me! If I wasn't a Thranduil fan as well, this would have been entirely a Glorfindel fic. I was planning on focusing more on Eryn/Glorfy, which explains the "for now..." bit. And yay, tra-lay! You did it! You are finally joining the dark side! *evil laughter*

*Rosiethehobbit17 - Silly me! I've forgotten where you actually are! I was thinking somewhere along the equator, but you are waaaaay in the south. I study tourism so it is nice to learn from someone who really lives there. As for my place, here in Spain at least, they have the best summer and the worst winter. My mom has skin allergy that gets worse during cold weather and gets better during summer. I guess we need to move somewhere else. LOL.

Yes, Thranduil is 98% drama and 2% lazy.

*only-one-mirkwood-princess - Celairis *grrrrr* but Glorfindel *hugs tightly*

*SparklesJustReads - I think Eryn would be happy with either Thrandy or Glorfy. She has a very flexible personality, and could cope with anyone's attitude. But the question is, would Thrandy/Glorfy be happy with or without her? Anyway, thanks for the review!

*Evangeline Pond - You may be the first solid Eryn/Glorfy and Thrandy/Celairis shipper! That's a surprise! Keep it up, girl~!

*Eirithdiel - Oooh, yes! Our handsome warrior ending up with a lady! How I love that idea! Would Eryn be fine for him, or someone else?

*llcyyxx - MUAHAHAHAHA! With that I will never get Thranduil to Rivendell! Never!

Nah, just kidding. I don't want to be mauled by the readers out there. LOL.

*Rousdower - ROUSSSYYY! *checks on notebook* Yep, you have just joined the Eryn/Glorfy ship. Thank you very much for your support, my dear. *wiggles with you*

*DeLacus - Goodness me! Thrandy does need an improvement. *writes that down* Glad to know you like Celairis (Sort of?) I especially do not want our beloved Elvenking spending his precious time with an elleth with no depth whatsoever. If a whore-like OC comes into this fic, I'll have Raithon immediately throw her out of the window. XD

*Guest - I was on my phone when I read your review and I literally laughed. My sister had to ask me what was so funny. I never thought of linking the term "shipping" to Valinor! Your comment is one of the most precious. Thank you for stopping by. I am glad you're enjoying the story!

*May East - Welcome here! Yes, I think Glorfindel still remains bewildered why he was sent back to Middle-earth. And you'll have plenty of chapters to enjoy shipping him with Eryn. Thank you!

*StrawberryObsession - Better late than never, indeed. Hope you've had a good time on your holiday.

You should really try to sing him a lullaby. I am sure Glorfindel wouldn't mind your tone (or anyone else's, in fact). Erestor could be trouble sometimes; his territorial attitude towards Eryn has somewhat increased over the years. A very clingy brother if you ask me. *shrugs* But, just like you said, Eryn does not see it that way. Her optimism and love for him blinds her of his true nature, like how she puts up with Thrandy's temper issues before. As for her reluctancy to celebrate the event, remember that Nimrodel was taken by orcs and Eryn had to rescue her. Both of them were bloodied and bruised. And yes, because Caladhir also died that night.

Your long review is very impressive. Are you always this an excellent observer when reading? I admit that I could not distinguish a character's development or flaws in the book, but you have it just right! I hope I am as good as you are. Keep it up, and thanks for the review~!

P.S. Thank you for everyone who has read this chapter! Hold on to your seats. Aduial en Meleth is coming next chapter! Don't forget to let me know your opinions or suggestions, so that I may edit the draft and include some of your suggestions.

Enjoy your day! （〜^∇^)〜