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Love’s Healing Flame	By : Argleena Category: -Fourth Age to Modern times and beyond > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 947 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The following work is based on the fantasy world and characters created by J.R.R. Tolkien and I do not own them or profit from this piece of work.

Chapter List
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For a couple of minutes, the elves all stared at one another not knowing what to say or do, until the clomping of hooves and sharp bleating cries of, “MAAAAH-MA-MAAAAH,” snapped Melpomaen out of his daze. He was a young, timid and quiet elf, just past his majority, currently training as one of Erestor’s lower assistants. Suddenly, he realized somebody had to do something. Erestor needed help. While Elrond and Glorfindel would do all they could for Erestor in the Halls of Healing, there was also much that needed to be done here in order for Erestor to be able to heal fully and make a recovery. If they didn’t get this right and support their college, he could potentially even fade from the mental trauma caused by all of this.
     “All right, listen up,” Melpomaen called out, in a voice louder than anyone had ever heard come from his tiny body before. “Eludir, Fenrir,” he designated, pointing to the two nearest guards standing by. “Catch those goats and get them OUT of the house. Saelbeth, gather as many assistants, scribes, library staff and anyone else that generally works under Elrond or Erestor and get sorted through this mess of paperwork. Let’s see what can be salvaged, what simply needs rewritten and what needs to be reworked altogether. Any non-urgent tasks and duties can wait, this takes priority.” He continued to look around the room. “Lindir, I need you to find housekeeping and have someone come clean up the mess from the spilled food and tea before it really sets in and they should also go through this wing of the house to ensure our two animal visitors didn’t leave any other messes elsewhere that need cleaned up.” Turning to another young guard in training, Aeonor, Melpomaen directed, “You! Go track down the twin sons of our Lord, I have a hunch they have something to do with all of this. Take them to Celebrían and explain to her the situation. She and Elrond will need to have a little chat with their little orclings about the ramifications of what just took place.”
     Melpomaen continued to direct the others and assess the situation at hand. Despite being only a lowly, lower assistant in training, everybody was listening to his orders and following directions. Even Fuirdir was lending a helping hand with only minimal mumbling and complaining. Melpomaen along with a group of four of Erestor’s highest ranking assistants and staff came together to draft a schedule and list of revised duties to assign the office, scribing and council staff for the foreseeable future. This outline would allow for the strictly necessary daily tasks to be completed, while elves would rotate day and night (with breaks for food and rest) to work to repair and replace the damaged documents and work lost here today. Lindir was circulating amongst the realm as we speak to enlist volunteers to help with some of the simpler tasks. They even got some of the older students in the advanced classes to help with basic scribing, copying and translation. Melpomaen made sure within his planning not to rely on Erestor’s services for the foreseeable future and forbade any elf from disturbing him, whether it be for the simplest or most complicated of matters. If they really couldn’t figure something out on their own, they were to bring the matter to Melpomaen and he would consult Elrond or find someone who could provide some insight. He was certain Elrond would have Erestor locked down for at least two weeks to recover and rest, no matter how Erestor might fight it, that is if Erestor ever recovered. His spirit looked pretty broken to Melpomaen, he prayed to Eru and every Vala above that Erestor would not fade from this.
    Meanwhile, in the Healing rooms, Erestor was slowly coming to from his unconscious state. Luckily, after he passed out, his body relaxed and he was once again able to take in a full breath. Erestor still felt a bit out of it. He was shaky and exhausted as a consequence of the adrenaline that had been pumping through his system earlier. He opened tear soaked eyes to see the blurry visages of Elrond and Glorfindel standing over him. He automatically flinched back at seeing Glorfindel standing above him. A familiar ache in his chest thudded to life with the remembrance of his once friend’s betrayal. The Golden Lord’s face dropped in realizing that Erestor was flinching away from him. Relieved that Erestor had regained consciousness, but recognizing that Erestor did not want him there and now was not the time to hash things out, Glorfindel excused himself from the room so Elrond could complete a thorough examination of Erestor.
     After a thorough examination and what felt like an endless barrage of questions, Elrond concluded that Erestor was over worked, over exhausted and had had a minor breakdown coupled with an anxiety attack. Erestor had answered most of Elrond’s questions honestly and opened up about most of what had been going on the past three fortnights to get him to this place. The one thing he kept to himself was what happened with the guards making the bet and Glorfindel’s involvement. It was still too near to his heart and painful to share with someone else, even someone as close as Elrond.
     Erestor’s chest caught when he saw the tears in Elrond's eyes after finishing his exam and interrogation. It was rare that Elrond shed a tear. Elrond apologized over and over to Erestor, saying he was sorry he had heaped so much on Erestor and for having taken advantage of his generous and hard working nature. He apologized for not being able to see with more clarity what Erestor had been suffering through these past few weeks and for not prioritizing Erestor’s wellbeing. Erestor shushed him. He reassured his Lord that while perhaps Elrond could have been a tad bit more observant it really wasn’t his fault. Erestor kept everything piled up to himself, he overworked himself despite feeling himself slipping and struggled with delegating tasks to others and give up control to help him relieve some of the burden. Elrond made it very clear that Erestor would be delegating far more of the workload he had steadily accumulated through the years and that Elrond would be locking him out of his office after a certain point every night and ensuring he took regular breaks and time off for himself. Erestor was no longer allowed to work himself to the point of fading.
      Speaking of work, Elrond forbade Erestor from returning to work for at least two weeks. He would figure out what to do about the damaged and lost documents, but now that they were entering the slower Rhîw season, Erestor would be taking a break. No matter how much Erestor argued that he just needed a good night’s rest and he would be ready to go in the morning, Elrond would hear none of it. He demanded that Erestor recover one week in a private room in the Healing Halls, so that he and his staff could monitor Erestor and ensure the only things he was doing were resting and eating, not trying to sneak around and get work done. Then after that if he behaved he could spend the next week resting in his chambers and doing light activities such as reading (for pleasure) or playing chess, with lots of sleep and rest mixed in. With a sigh, Erestor gave in, for now.
     Three hours later, after sitting in the silence, which seemed to amplify the thoughts in his head, Erestor was going out of his mind. Here he was, trapped in bed for two weeks when there was so much left to be done. Not only that, but he hated these healing rooms with their sterile smells, thin blankets and blank walls. Erestor would much rather rest in his own bed, piled high with soft pillows and mounds of blankets that felt just right to the touch. He could open the window in his room and let the fresh, crisp smell of winter permeate his senses. He longed for the walls of his room, painted a deep maroon color and decorated with centuries accumulation of art and sentimental knickknacks. The longer he lay in the healing rooms, the antsier he became. What he wouldn’t give for a nice hot bath and then a nice long slumber in his own room.
      Elrond came to check on Erestor shortly before dinner. After he left, Erestor counted to 100 and then made a break for it. He simply could not abide another minute in the healing room. He made his way to Elrond’s private bath, where he would soak before returning to his own room for some sleep while everyone was distracted with dinner. Elrond would be mad, but he doubted the Elf Lord would interrupt his rest just to drag him back to the Healing Halls. Erestor’s pride at creating such a devious plan and escaping brought a smile to his face for a few seconds. He was still feeling pretty broken and worn down however, and the memories of the past 6 weeks and disaster earlier still lay heavy in his mind. Grabbing a well worn and comfortable set of sleepwear from his room, Erestor made his way to the baths.
      For the next hour, Erestor soaked in the steamy bathing pool, working hard to get a hold on his emotions. That last incident had really broken him. He had let out a couple of hysterical sobs during his soak when his memories became too overwhelming, but at least he didn’t have anymore tears or another panic attack. Elrond would have personally traveled to the Hall of Mandos himself just to drag Erestor back only to kill him all over again if he lost consciousness in his Lord’s bathing room and drowned to death. The bath was refreshing but not as rejuvenating as he thought it would be. He spent too much of that time ruminating over the events that brought him to this point.
     Erestor dried off quickly from the bath, grateful the steam from the warm water kept the marbled room nice and toasty as Erestor exposed his bare body to the open air of the room. He quickly combed through the tangles in his hair and changed into his comfortable sleepwear. He crept his way stealthily back to his room, ready to simply crash face first into his large, cushy bed and hopefully fall into a blissfully dreamless sleep. As the sun set early this time of year, his room was bathed in darkness and shadows when he entered. He navigated his way through the common area to his sleeping chambers by memory, without lighting a single lamp or candle along the way. Erestor shuffled his way up the side of his bed to get to the bedside table. There he light a lamp and dimmed the blinding light to provide a low light ambiance and illuminate the room. When Erestor turned to climb into his bed, he nearly let out a shrieking screech, much like an elleth. There, sitting in Erestor’s armchair, which was situated underneath the window located directly across from Erestor’s bed, was Glorfindel. And from the scowl carved out on his face set in stone, he did not look happy.
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Love’s Healing Flame