They targeted him simply because he was different, ambushing him like some wild animal. The hunters slowly and methodically reduced the circle until the innocent victim drew aware of the danger. By then, it was far too late. They mocked him as they ripped off his noble garb. Jeers and punches were accentuated by cries of pain.
"Galadriel," the beloved voice called her back from the vision. She shivered with cold, always an after-effect of visions, although a warm blanket had been wrapped around her. Foresight or a dream? Would her intervention cause this collision or help avoid it?
"Some honeyed tea." Her Adar's concerned voice floated in the air. Moments later a warm cup pressed at her lips as nonsensical words soothed gently.
"A vision then." Familiar strong hands brushed her head.
"Her Adar," she realized belatedly.
"Should we delay our departure?" Celeborn pulled the shivering figure closer and laid a kiss on the pain-creased brow.
"I will be fine." Her voice sounded weak and far away.
"Of course you will, beloved."
"You shall ride in the carriage." Finarfin's tone was one of command. Celeborn smiled as he felt her bristle. In the last few years, such carriages and wagons were solely used to transport the injured or to move supplies. She was Galadriel and would not take well to being classified as an invalid. Celeborn the wise inserted a gentler argument.
"Ereinion sent a carriage for us. It seems your nephew wishes to show his appreciation for your deeds. We would not wish to appear ungrateful for the High King's attentiveness." Aran Finarfin gave an undignified cough.
"He will need a few years yet to grow into that title."
"He will make a great King," Galadriel affirmed.
Xxxxxxxxx Refuge camps xxxxxxxxxX
"Slowly Erestor, you do not wish to over-exert yourself." Niphendriel hovered nearby, anxiously watching her son hobble across the small open square. Perspiration beaded on his brow. Sighing in defeat, he braced himself against his Mother. A new and unexpected voice startled them.
"There is no need to rush things." A bright voice chided as a strong arm wrapped gently around his waist, providing much-needed support. "There is no shame in a warrior taking time to recover from his injuries."
"Glorfindel!" Erestor panted from exertion.
"Seems you have exercised as the healer ordered. Now allow us to help you back to your tent." Glorfindel smiled at how Erestor's eyes darkened upon mention of 'tent'. Niphendriel supported her son from the opposite side. The three slowly traversed the short distance back to the tent. Glorfindel watched as Niphendriel attended to her son. Before long, Erestor was comfortably ensconced on the cot.
"Can I get you something for the pain?"
"Just water." Erestor's ragged breathing evened slightly. "It will pass soon enough, and I do not want to sleep so soon."
"How do the healers say you are progressing?" Glorfindel asked. Niphendriel glared at him as she answered her son.
"There seems to have been some nerve damage that will slow the healing process. It will take months to regain full mobility, but he will walk more steadily soon. Hopefully, next summer, you will be dancing at your sister's wedding."
"Yes, it would not due to be known as Calimdriel's invalid brother." Erestor commented darkly.
"Erestor!" Niphendriel's tone was warning. But Glorfindel laughed, the refreshing sound clearing the air like a gentle breeze.
"No, it would not, Penneth!" Glorfindel ignored the sour look his endearment elicited. "I could tell you stories of my own slow recovery after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. I think I drove my caregivers to tears."
"I find that hard to imagine." Erestor blinked in astonishment.
"It is true nonetheless. Elves like us do not endure confinement well." Glorfindel continued as he crossed to the entrance of the tent where a package had been placed. "But I brought some supplies to amuse you." He carried over the cloth bundle and set it on Niphendriel's worn trunk.
"Perhaps these might also guard your Naneth's sanity as she endures your recovery and rehabilitation." He smiled as he slowly unwrapped the bundle to reveal several books and a quill, ink, and parchment.
"This one is written by a friend of mine. I think you may enjoy it. It is a simple story about everyday life in Gondolin."
"I can not thank you enough!" Erestor's eyes lit with joy as he gingerly accepted the book from Glorfindel.
"You can thank me best by obeying the healer's advice. We've arranged for a carriage to bring you to Mithlond for the Yule festival next month. I know Elrond will want to see you."
"Elrond will be there! I thought he was ill and staying with the Avari for treatment."
"Cirulian and I will leave next week to retrieve him. King Gil-Galad would like him to spend the holidays at their new home."
"I heard building had begun. But surely it can not be finished already."
"In truth, most buildings have but their foundations outlined. But when I visited last month, they were engineering the roof over the King's main quarters. I believe he plans to occupy most of those rooms for Yule."
Xxxxxxxxx Among the Avari xxxxxxxxxX
"Gildor! I did not know you and your band were encamped with the Avari!" Glorfindel embraced his old friend."
"It is good to see you, Glorfindel!" Gildor and Ivorchith both clasped the Vanya's shoulder. "We only just arrived from patrolling the hinterlands. I have just reported to the Herutaurë. We will leave in a few days to brief Gil-Galad in Mithlond. Do you have time for a toast among friends?"
"I could be coaxed into accepting a glass of wine." Glorfindel laughed brightly as he turned to introduce his companion. "Have you met Cirulian?" The Teleri bowed slightly in greeting as protocol demanded. Handshakes and laughter were exchanged, as well as names. Wine flowed and lembas were distributed. Food was not plentiful, but thankfully, this winter, there should be no one starving.
"One of Cirdan's warriors." Gildor clasped arms with the Teleri.
"Now in service to Gil-Galad."
"And your mission?" Ivorchith raised his brow in query. The tall Noldo's clothes were worn and stained. These warriors had earned a respite.
"Return Earendil's son to the safety of Mithlond. Since you are heading that way, perhaps we should travel together. There is safety in numbers."
"Ah, I have yet to lay eyes on the peredhel. Their healer keeps him in seclusion. But come, let us continue our discussion by the fire." Gildor clapped the golden elf on the back. "But come, there is surely time to share song and drink before you track down your charge."
Xxxxxxxxx Traveling xxxxxxxxxX
Celeborn brushed a golden strand behind his beloved's ear. Her porcelain cheeks were now tinged with red, like the makeup for the summer solstice festival, but it was nearly Yule. Their carriage had paused for the security check at the boundary of Mithlond. He could hear Aran Finarfin's brief discussion with the guards. Then the carriage door opened, and his father-in-law entered.
"It will not be long now, perhaps thirty minutes more. I gave instructions for the carriage to draw up to Gil-Galad's residence. Several of his guards will accompany us from here." Celeborn nodded and gently caressed the golden head that rested against his thigh. Finarfin crouched near his daughter's sleeping form and ran his hands along her head and torso to assess her condition. "She is with fever."
"It is mild, and she is deep in healing sleep. " Celeborn frowned slightly. "Perhaps I should have not agreed to us traveling yet."
"I do not think even you could have kept her in that tent another day."
"The change of scenery will be most welcome, though I had not anticipated the journey to be taxing. Tarwatirno seemed relieved to be rid of her." Celeborn said darkly.
"You must forgive my chief healer. He was at all of my children's births. My wife and I would trust no other. But between the four of them, I think he has set more broken bonds and stitched more gashes than he would like to remember." Finarfin looked away. "We were all devastated that they chose to follow Fëanor from Aman. Then to lose all my sons and nearly lose my daughter." He choked slightly.
"She will be well soon."
"She will welcome the change of scenery and should be more forthcoming about her injuries with Master Noenri."
"Gil-Galad's chief healer?" Finarfin mused aloud. "How do they know each other?"
"They both studied healing with Queen Melian in Doriath, although Noenri was already a master healer."
"Artanis studied healing?" He shook his head in bemusement. His daughter had always transcended gender roles, from working at the forge to insisted training with sword and bow. She had yet to divulged any details about the nightmarish crossing of the Helcaraxë. "She has experienced so much - grown so much. I hardly know her anymore."
"I think you know her in all the important ways. Perhaps these experiences changed her, but I am sure of one thing. You should be proud. She faced many difficulties with courage and tenacity."
Xxxxxxxxx Among the Avari xxxxxxxxxX
"Healing is a slow process that is promoted by meditation and rest. Nightmares often plague his nights. I gave the youth a sleeping-inducing tea." The healer's tone was professional, but Glorfindel sensed the undercurrent: much was being deliberately passed over. Cirulian shifted uneasily beside him.
"Perhaps you would be so kind as to show us to his tent?" Glorfindel slipped easily into an archaic form of the Avari language. Cirulian masked his shock at the strange language.
"Who are you?" The healer gaped at the unexpected us of their high tongue.
"One of the first ones. A brother of your King, for I awakened shortly after him." Cirulian watched shock spread across the healer's face at whatever Glorfindel had told the healer. The arrogance of the healer seemed to melt away, and he bowed humbly to the reborn warrior. Cirulian could not discern what was spoken but could recognize the change in body language.
"This way, my Lords." The healer returned to Sindarin.
"So far from the fire?" Glorfindel shook his head in disapproval. "Cirulian, heat some blankets. Temperatures will sink quite low tonight." Indeed, even under a thick blanket in his tea-induced sleep, Elrond shivered with cold. Cirulian and Glorfindel set their cots abutting Elrond's and slipped the fire-warmed blankets around him.
"The heated coals were a good idea." Glorfindel praised as they settled down to sleep near Elrond. The peredhel was thinner than Glorfindel remembered, but as he assessed the sleeping figure, he could already discern some improvements.
"Is he well?" Concern laced Cirulian's voice.
"He is healing."
"How long does such healing take?"
"Wounds to the fëa are slow to mend. I spent nearly sixty years in Mandos. Most take far longer." Cirulian gaped at the reborn warrior. The fate of the dead was hard for the living to contemplate; yet the golden Vanya stood here before him. Glorfindel smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Fear not, I doubt it will take half that long. We should rest while we can." Cirulian nodded in agreement and a short time later both warriors were sleeping soundly. Incoherent mutterings woke Glorfindel near dawn.
"A nightmare?" Cirulian yawned. Glorfindel nodded as he leaned over the restless sleeper.
"Elrond, mellon-nin, awaken." Silver eyes darted open, betraying fear and anxiety. "All is well, my friend." Awareness flooded the silver orbs, then joyous disbelief.
"Glorfindel?" Elrond coughed as he drew in the cold air too quickly and frowned at the concern in his friend's eyes.
"We arrived late last night. You were already sleeping." Glorfindel lied openly. There was no need to tell his friend that they had discussed him at length with both the Avari King and chief healer.
"Kalmë said that I would remain here for the next year," Elrond whispered in surprise.
"Aran Gil-Galad bid you return for the holiday."
"To the camps?" Uncertainty mixed with sadness. "Elros said little remained in Mithlond. The ruins of the palace now grace a cliff overlooking the sea."
"He and Indiriel are excited to have you see the beginning of New Mithlond. I am told the foundations of the palace are already in place. A few buildings even have roofs, though their interior is far from finished." Glorfindel smiled as he saw joy light up Elrond's features. "Unless you wish to stay here?"
"No! When can we go?" The boyish enthusiasm and sweet smile were that of a young elf.
"Barely fifty," Glorfindel recalled. "We celebrated his coming of age at war."
"Gildor and his company arrived yesterday and wish to remain one more day. It will be safer for everyone to travel together. I thought we might partake of the celebration and dancing tonight and leave tomorrow morning."
Xxxxxxxxxx
Roads that curved off the main path were still unpaved, though sticks marked their outline. Here and there, completed buildings had sprung up as if by magic, though most areas were but grassy plots outlined only with stones. The carriage clattered up onto the newly laid main street. Breathtakingly deep blue eyes blinked open at him.
"All is well beloved. We should be reaching the palace in a few minutes." Celeborn bent and laid kisses on her brow. Her tenuous smile warmed his heart. He could feel the thoughts flying through her head.
"I should …"
"You need not do anything." Her Adar interjected as he helped her sit. Lids fluttered shut over opal eyes. Celeborn brushed off her cloak and straightened the broach, which cinched it closed.
"I doubt Gil-Galad and Indiriel will stand any ceremony. Their court is very much under construction, although the outlines of buildings and roads do imbue one with hope for the future."
"How do you feel?" Celeborn brushed a wayward gold braid behind an elegant ear. Moments passed in silence as Galadriel gathered her strength and straightened to her full height. The carriage clattered onto a circular drive and halted outside what would someday be a grand stone entranceway, though now it lacked a door. The horses moved slightly forward as the driver and footman exchanged suggestions and maneuvered the carriage door adjacent to the carriage steps. Several guards and servants swarmed out of the entrance, followed by Gil-Galad and Indiriel. The footman opened the door and helped them disembark. Finarfin was the first to greet his great-grandson and his wife.
"Welcome to Mithlond!" Indiriel called out as she waved to her friend. Galadriel smiled and took Celeborn's arm and gild down the steps. She hid her weakness behind a serene smile as they approached the King and Queen and gave them their obeisance. Indiriel threw decorum to the wind and embraced Finarfin's daughter.
"It is so good to see you!" She warmed the too-cold hands in her own. "How I prayed you would be well! But come, we have some refreshments prepared and a warm fire going in the parlor. Then you must all rest from the journey."
Xxxxxxxxxx
Glorfindel emerged from the undulating circle of dancers. His azure eyes locked with those of the Forest Lord, and in the brief glance, welcome and greetings were exchanged. Momentarily disoriented from the swirling dance, he stood still to search for his friends among the crowd. Gildor and his band were seated at the edge near the great oaks. He was happy to see that Elrond had finally joined them after trying to opt out of the event. He moved past Gildor and Ivorchith, who were conversing with a small circle of young Avari elves.
"Is there anyone Gildor can not charm?" He chuckled softly to himself. "Even the xenophobic Avari!"
"What is so amusing?" Gildor questioned.
"Nothing can compare to the circle of dance." Glorfindel praised warmly, making the gathered Avari heartily agree. Soon, many were offering polite goodbyes as their hearts returned towards the dance.
"You have chased away our audience!" Ivorchith teased lightly before escorting an elleth to the circle.
"Your friend is quiet." Gildor glanced at the peredhel who sat, seemingly entranced by the dancers. The hum of conversations swirled like eddies but seemed to pass by the slim figure. The young elf was wrapped warmly in a thick cloak but still shivered. Gildor noted a small group of Avari, who were staring at the peredhel.
"He is young and has seen far too much." Glorfindel sipped at his wine. Gildor nodded thoughtfully.
"You ordered him to come tonight." Gildor observed quietly. "Twas not his choice."
"Gil-Galad told me how much Elrond likes such dances."
"Perhaps he does not feel welcome here." Gildor mused as he strolled determinedly to fetch a glass of the hot mulled wine. He stooped near Elrond, who startled at his approach.
"Something to warm you up." The irrepressible wanderer smiled warmly.
"Thank you, my Lord." Elrond lips turned upward with a forced smile. He accepted the glass graciously but could not hide his dubious sniff at its contents.
"Not a sleeping draught, though often it has that effect." Gildor laughed as Elrond took a sip. "May I join you, Earendilion?"
"Of course." The soft voice barely carried over the din around them. The youth flinched ever so slightly as a group of revelers passed. Gildor looked up to study the retreating elves, who sporadically glanced backward with undisguised curiosity. The King and Queen had treated the newcomers with care and respect, but Gildor could read the disdain that was painted in some eyes. The elf next to him flinched again before the soft voice addressed Glorfindel.
"I would prefer to return to my tent, if it is alright."
"As you wish, my Lord." Glorfindel bowed and smiled at his young friend.
"We will accompany you," Gildor interjected as they rose to their feet.
"Do not let me spoil your evening." Elrond waved them off.
"You do no such thing. Next time we visit, you will be well enough to dance." Glorfindel put his arm around Elrond's shoulder as they moved through the crowd. "They mean well, but everyone has been through a great upheaval. It will take time for them to accept you." The Vanya perceived Gildor's concern. Thus, he was more observant of other's reactions as they walked among those celebrating. Elrond only relaxed once they cleared the gathering and emerged alone onto the forest path. It was not long before they entered the small tent now cluttered with three cots.
"Thank you for escorting me back. Please go enjoy yourselves. I only plan to rest for tomorrow's journey." He pulled a warm blanket around his thick cloak and sat on the cot.
"Can you hear the thoughts of others?" Gildor sat down across from Earendil's son, who both trembled and looked astonished at the question.
"How? Why would you think that?" Elrond shook his head in shock as Gildor leaned forward to grasp his hand.
"Do you hear the thoughts of others Earendilion?" Gildor's tone was insistent, as one assured in his leadership.
"I… sometimes …it comes unbiddened …. I know not how to stop it…" Several tears slipped down Elrond's icy cheeks. Gildor leaned over and wiped them away.
"You hear those who can not shield their minds. Those less knowledgeable and less gifted cannot veil their thoughts from others."
"You can hear other's thoughts too?"
"Some of us can. It is a gift more common among those who have seen the western shores, although perhaps this is a remnant of Melian's line. Did not Galadriel instruct you in your healing gift or how to shield your mind from unwanted invasion?"
"My healing gift, yes, but I could always keep my thoughts from others." Elrond's face betrayed horror as he whispered. "Am I invading others?"
"Not purposefully but in a way. Glorfindel or I could teach you." Gildor started, but Vanya interrupted with a snort.
"I could not." Glorfindel disagreed. "I know well how to shield my thoughts and not to invade the thoughts of others. But to teach it to another that is a different matter."
"Alright then, perhaps Cirdan, Galadriel, or I could help. It is not unusual for these things to manifest themselves once one has reached their majority."
"I would like to learn. It is not pleasant to hear other people's unfiltered thoughts."
Xxxxxxxxxx Mithlond xxxxxxxxxX
They had indulged in a veritable feast given what rations were at this time of year. Everyone savored the hearty stew and wine. Indiriel kissed her husband then led Galadriel and Celeborn to their room.
"She is still unwell." Ereinion mused as he moved to fill Finarfin's glass. Waiting until his Uncle, Aunt, and wife were well out of earshot.
"I see you waited to comment."
"I am wise enough to know when things are better left unsaid." Ereinion's serious mien broke into a grin. "There is little need to risk my Aunt's ire."
"It was a near thing," Finarfin whispered and sipped at the wine. "Healing will take some months yet."
"But she will fully recover."
"Yes." A small pause was broken by a soft whisper. "It brings me great sorrow to know that is not the case for Indiriel. She is a treasure."
"My treasure," Ereinion whispered and looked away. "Twice, she barely escaped death. I count each hour we share together as a blessing."
"You are both certain that you will not sail? There is healing in Valinor."
"I can not. My place is here with my people. I can not explain – but from what I hear of the song, I know I am needed here."
"Indiriel might yet seek healing."
"She refuses, and I would not truss her upon some ship against her will. Under such circumstances, she might not survive the journey."
"Yet you hold out hope."
"Perhaps in time, I may convince her."
"My Eärwen would like her immediately. Should you convince her, be assured that she would be welcomed with open arms in our house. My wife will lament deeply when I return without one of our family." Finarfin paused thoughtfully. "It seems that letters and portraits will need to suffice. Do you know a good portrait painter?"
Xxxxxxxxxx Taking leave of the Avari xxxxxxxxxX
"Remember, Penneth, you are still healing, not healed." The Herutaurë embraced him. Elrond had bristled at the memory of the Avari healer's last orders. "We will look for your return in the early summer." Elrond's wild black mount snored impatiently, but the young elf whispered quiet endearments as he mounted. Kalmë stepped over to confer with the willful horse, who immediately quieted.
"Safe travels, Elrond. During your next visit, you must learn how to properly train your steed." The guard held his hand over his heart, bowed, and disappeared before the stunned youth could respond.
Many had come to bid farewell to Gildor and his company. Elrond saw Lord Gildor and Ivorchith respectfully bowing to the Lord of the Forest and wondered how these wandering Noldor had managed to find such acceptance among the Avari. Once they made their cordial farewells, they mounted their steeds. Horses had a high mortality rate on the bloody fields of warfare. Gildor's contingent was one of the few these days to have enough horses for every elf. The Avari song to Elbereth echoed in their wake as the company slowly took their leave.
"You are shivering." Gildor addressed Elrond.
"I would be even colder without this fine hat." Elrond gave a cheeky grin. It was a gift from Selina. Beleford's wife had sent the men a box full of the hats during the war. Most people in Elros' contingent were happy to receive such a practical item. A furry flap extended over the ears. Elves, who were not bothered by the cold, thought this invention was quite ridiculous, and Elrond had born much teasing this morning.
"You look odd, to say the least." Gildor laughed.
"Luckily, this well-placed flap selectively filters insults." Elrond laughed as Braigsûl spit in Gildor's direction.
"Aye, it is a fair bit chilly this morning." Glorfindel drew up behind them. "Perhaps we will see enough sun to warm up a few degrees by lunch."
"Chilly does not adequately describe it." Elrond shivered and blew into his gloved hands.
"Perhaps we can arrange a place closer to the fire for you."
"I would be most grateful." Elrond returned. Gildor and Glorfindel exchanged smiles, happy that it would be straightforward to guarantee Elrond's safety that night. Glorfindel had told but a handful of people of Galadriel's premonition, opting to keep the information from Elrond. The young Peredhel had enough on his mind.
"Grateful enough to treat us to a song?" Ivorchith turned and shouted to the others. "Earendil's son provides the music tonight!" Others cheered.
"If I can play with gloved fingers," Elrond murmured.
Xxxxxxxxx Refuge camps xxxxxxxxxX
Niphendriel smiled at the sight of her son, wrapped warmly in blankets and curled up contentedly with the books that Glorfindel had brought. The afternoon was decidedly cold, and the solstice was but a few days away. They had delayed their departure for Mithlond at the advice of the healers.
"Erestor, I thought you might enjoy something warm." She sat beside him and exchanged the elaborately illustrated history tome for a warm mug. The honey, herbs, and spices of the uruiwîn were festive and soothing. The traditional Sindarin mulled wine was originally a way to make wine past its prime drinkable again, especially during the lean winter season. But many who had grown up during the hard times of the War of Wrath associated this drink with the solstice celebration. The aroma never failed to bring a smile to her son's face.
"Uruiwîn! Thank you, Naneth!" Erestor moved over to make room for his Naneth on the blanket. "But you need not worry so much over me. Master Tarwatirno released me from his care."
"He recommended that you take things slowly."
"What will you do without an invalid son to care for?"
"Your sister's wedding will more than occupy my time. Oropher does not want to settle in Mithlond."
"He will need to at least until the forests recover and are purged of any remnants of enemy forces."
"In any case, it is your sister's and Orodiun's wish to have their wedding among the trees. They would have been married months ago, but Orodiun's family's wish was to hold a large wedding celebration. Oropher will travel to see if the Avari might be amenable to having the celebration in their settlement."
"Orodiun always speaks fondly of the years he spent with them learning the ways of the forest."
"It was wrong of me not to allow you that same experience."
"No," Erestor stated fiercely. "Oropher's family is large. You had just lost Adar. I would not have left you and Calimdriel then even if you ordered me to. She was just a tiny elfling."
"I love you, Erestor. I have always been proud of you." Tears welled in her eyes.
"We will celebrate the solstice and then help Calimdriel and Orodiun with their plans. Perhaps we can obtain permission to visit the Avari together."
"I would like that ion-nin."
Xxxxxxxxx Traveling to Mithlond xxxxxxxxxX
The smell of burning flesh permeated his senses. He moaned and gasped at the vivid memories. "Not a second time! He could not take such an onslaught again!" Light and warmth engulfed him, and a voice commanded him away from the horrors in his mind.
"Glorfindel, follow my voice to the present." No, it was not the deep, commanding baritone of his King. This was a rich tenor that wavered uncertainly. His blurred vision focused, but instead of the rich, stately garb of the King of Gondolin, a young elf stood before him, grasping his hand. The beguiling silver eyes shown with the light of the stars, while the silky night hair floated like smoke around a lean, angular face. "Glorfindel?" He blinked dazedly, trying to place the singular figure before him. The youthful brow was furled in worry. The elf was too young to understand, but the unusual spirit sensed the deep distress even in sleep. Memory clicked.
"Elrond," Glorfindel gasped as his hand ghosted the outline of the cheek.
"How can I help you?" Glorfindel's heart twisted with guilt at the genuine desire that rang in the young voice. How did one who had been robbed of his childhood and had suffered so much retain such a generous spirit? He vowed anew to succor and protect this extraordinary grandson of his King.
"You already have."
"But I have not done anything," Elrond muttered in confusion.
"You called me from dark memories and nightmares." Glorfindel smiled. "You do not think you are the only one who suffers from nightmares." Elrond blushed and looked away.
"Ereinion says it is better to talk about them – that talking diminishes their power," Elrond whispered.
"Does it?" Assure eyes probed flustered silver. There was no way he would ever burden this young peredhel with these ancient memories. No, not until he had grown into a great healer. His heart already foretold the youth's path. Yet never would he voice this foresight, for Elrond deserved to discover these things on his own.