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The Gift	By : mirasaui Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 9163 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
The Gift
by Mirasaui

Part 11: The Comfort of a Friend
"What happened, Haldir?" Lindir asked. "Did you see Tebring?"
"I am sorry about your friend, Lindir," Haldir said softly. "They were bringing him in to the healing house when we arrived. He was not conscious and I could not see his injury as he was covered with a blanket. They took him in to Lord Elrond immediately. Glorfindel will have more information, I am sorry, that is all I can tell you."
Haldir sat down on the bed next to his friend. Lindir was a picture of dishevelment. Several strands of moon-white hair had escaped from his long mussed braid, and his cotton robe was wrinkled and pulled from his bout of sleep. But the young elf did not seem aware of his condition. Compassion, shock and pain radiated from his wide blue eyes as he gazed at the Marchwarden.
"It will kill him, Haldir." Lindir spoke in anguish. "He will not take to being crippled. Cowardly dogs are Humans! They are not like in your story, Haldir. They are cruel and hateful. What reason had they to come to Imladris? What reason had they to attack us?"
"I do not know, pen-neth (1)." Haldir shrugged. "I do not pretend to understand their motives. The Apanonar (2) are like the dandelion - a puff of wind and they are gone. They are not bound to this world as we are, and while none of us (races) know our final fate, Men above all, resent our immortality. We who have lived long see the world with different eyes. Our dreams are not of items of material wealth, but of spirit, essence. We value beauty in its aesthetic form, Men think only of its value in coin. Men see glory in ownership, power, and wealth and the bandits are the worst of Men. They kill not only for survival, but for lust and greed and care not who stands in their way. They do not see the value of the seed, only the mighty oak that it becomes."
For a moment all was silent, as the two elves sat lost in thought. Then a gust of wind blew the curtains inward and a slow roll of thunder broke the quiet. Tonight, even nature was upset, for there was in the air the smell of rain and the slight burnt aroma that precedes a sudden storm.
"And Tebring?" said Lindir bitterly, "What is to become of him? His life as a warrior is over. Never again will he run with the wind, chase the rain, or fly through the trees. I worry for him."
"So you should, Lindir. So you should." Haldir rubbed Lindir's arm absentmindedly. Tebring will suffer through many different phases before he comes to terms with his loss. He will first feel sadness and self-pity, later anger. He will need his friends by his side every step of the way. With time, he should resign himself to his fate. That sounds cruel, but it is what every warrior must face. We subject ourselves to injury or death whenever we pick up a weapon. Tebring will weather this. You must give him time."
Lindir hung his head. "I hope with all my heart, Haldir, that your words are true. I would not wish to lose him."
The older warrior looked at the billowing curtains and a slight smile creased his face. "The rain bathes the earth and makes it look as new. So it will be with your friend. His fears will wash away in time and as water brings new life, so will he find new paths to travel. I have seen this happen many times before, Lindir. Trust me."
Rosy lips returned the smile as Lindir too, watched the heavy fabric move with the wind. "You know I do, Haldir." I have learned much about you these past few days and can see why your lord and lady speak so highly of their Marchwarden."
Time slipped by as the two talked further and found out more about each other. Rain began to fall in large drops and soon the atmosphere was charged with static from the bolts of lightning that rent the air as the heavy drops became sheets of water falling from the sky. Ear-splitting booms shook the ground and rattled the walls as the splendour of the storm grew in force, 'till finally, heaven took its rest and the dark of the storm turned to the dark of night. The fury of the elements tamed, the music of the various night crawlers now the only sounds carried on the fresh-scented air.
The Marchwarden knew it would not be much longer before Glorfindel returned. He was rather surprised that Lindir had asked the seneschal to stay with him, knowing how timid the young elf was. It was a bold move for Lindir and Haldir realized that the young minstrel had no idea what he was letting himself in for.
The Lórien elf had known the golden-haired Vanya for a long time. Glorfindel, like Erestor and Haldir, had a side of him that he kept hidden. Outwardly, he was compassionate, teasing and boisterous, with a fiery temper that showed itself when provoked. But there was much hurt inside the ancient warrior. He had not only lost his life when Gondolin fell, but his friends and home as well. For no trace of the fair city remained and but few of its inhabitants now dwelled on Middle-earth.
Upon his death he roamed the Halls of Mandos, a place of darkness, solitude and grief. There he faced centuries of atonement for his pride and arrogance, with no company but his own. In the Second Age, the re- embodied lord was thrust full kilt into the War of the Last Alliance. A dark time for all, for many Elves and Men fell to the minions of the Dark Lord. Glorfindel was again a witness to death and destruction and the loss of close friends. And through all his trials, he suffered alone. For never had he found his mate, the one to whom his soul called, never, in all the ages of his long existence.
And now that Haldir had come to know Lindir and Lindir's heart, he feared for the young elf, for Lindir would give his heart to the golden warrior and Glorfindel would surely break it. One of the most respected and powerful elves on Middle Earth, a legend in his own time, an elf of golden deeds, ethereal beauty and great wisdom, but one who tragically believed with all his heart and soul that he would remain forever alone.
Glorfindel had been through too much, been hurt too many times and so had built a hard shell around his heart. And Haldir did not think that Lindir had the strength to put a dent in that shell. Many had tried before him and failed.
But Lindir deserved the chance and Haldir was determined to help him in any way he could, if only to pick up the pieces when it was all over, if it ever began.
"Are you planning to change clothes before Glorfindel arrives?" Haldir asked during a lull in the conversation. You are quite tempting in your disarray, but you would look better with your hair combed and in more appropriate attire. If you show me where you keep your comb, I will help you with your hair. It is something I do for my brothers all the time and if you do not mind my saying so, I am quite skilled."
Lindir looked down at his robe and laughed. "I had not even thought about my appearance. My comb is atop the dresser. You will find a box of clips in the left drawer. But you do not have to do this, Haldir. Sit and relax, I will attend to my toiletries."
"No, Lindir. You sit. It is no trouble for me and is a task that I enjoy."
Lindir watched the Marchwarden as he gathered together what he would need. There was much to like about the arrogant elf. He smiled to himself. I never would have thought the day would come when I would call Haldir o Lórien my friend. At least some good had come out of Elladan and Elrohir's plotting.
Haldir walked over to the large wardrobe that stood on the wall across from Lindir's bed. "Do you mind if I choose your raiment for tonight?" he asked, not wanting to open the door without permission. He thought he could do a better job of making Lindir look his best than the young elf, considering the way the minstrel was feeling.
"Feel free to do so, Haldir, since you are up," Lindir said playfully, for a moment his mind empty of thoughts of his injured friend. He was also curious as to what the older elf would choose. He laughed when he saw what Haldir pulled from the wardrobe. The ingenious elf had selected one of his best tunics. It was a deep, aquamarine, silk brocade embroidered with gold thread at the neck and on the sleeves. Haldir matched it with a pair of soft, white suede leggings and tan boots.
"The tunic will go well with your eyes, pen-neth (2). You should wear it more often, as it is a good colour for you." Haldir said. "Change your clothes while I run to my room. I will not be long."
When Haldir returned, Lindir was fully dressed. The older elf sat down on the bed and motioned for Lindir to sit in front of him then picked up the comb and began to remove the simple ribbon that bound the minstrel's hair.
Lindir relaxed under Haldir's touch, enjoying the sensation of slender fingers moving through his hair. Haldir undid Lindir's long braid, letting the soft strands fall to mingle with the rest of the hair that hung down Lindir's back. When Haldir had worked it all free, he ran the comb through the long white tresses, gently removing the rest of the tangles. Lindir leaned backward as Haldir parted the silky locks and began to plait a section in the back. When he had finished with the braid, Haldir reached in his pocket and withdrew a lovely mithril hair clip with a dark, clear, blue stone.
Lindir gasped when he saw it. "Haldir, it is beautiful, and much too fine for me to wear."
"Nonsense, Lindir. It matches your tunic and makes a lovely contrast with your hair." You need colour to set off your braid. I am going to leave your hair loose in the front, for it brings out your eyes. Ah, you are beautiful, mellonen (4). Glorfindel will not know what to make of you."
At Haldir's words, the young elf turned a deep red. Surely the Marchwarden did not know of his feelings for Glorfindel.
"Aye, Lindir," Haldir said gently. "You gave yourself away yesterday. I know of your love for Glorfindel and I wish you the best. You will have no better opportunity than tonight to tell him, and I advise you to do so. Glorfindel will never know your thoughts if you keep them hidden."
"Haldir!" Lindir said in astonishment. "How could you even suggest that I do such, to think of love, when Tebring lies in the healing house his life in ruin. This is a time of tragedy, sorrow. The only reason Glorfindel sits with me tonight is to ease my mind. I could never take advantage of his compassion in such a way."
"There are other ways to show your love besides words." Haldir stated. "Glorfindel is not without feeling, nor any less deserving of the compassion he offers you. He grieves also, pen-neth (2), can you not see? It was his command that sent Tebring to his doom. At least that is how he will see it."
"Are you speaking from experience, Haldir?" Lindir gazed at the Marchwarden sadly. "Do you harbour the same guilt when those under you are injured or die?"
"Oh, I try to rationalize it, Lindir. I tell myself the galadhrim know what they are getting into, all the usual arguments, and it works to some extent. But, deep inside, any leader--be it me, Glorfindel, Lords Elrond or Celeborn--takes the blame and yes, feels the guilt. I carry it with me always. But I cannot and will not let it consume me."
"And who offers you comfort, Haldir?" Lindir asked.
For a brief moment the guarded look Haldir normally turned to the world was replaced with one of pain. It was so fleeting that Lindir almost missed it. So, Haldir had his secrets, too.
"Ah, you ask quite a personal question, meldir (5)," the warrior replied, a tinge of amusement in his voice. "That is something I will not tell you."
"Geheno lin, Haldir (6). I did not mean to pry." Lindir said an apologetic look on his lovely face.
"Avosto (7), it is a small matter, you need not apologize. Come, let us change the topic of our conversation." Haldir smiled at Lindir then stretched out his legs on the bed to a more comfortable position.
No sooner had he done so than a soft knock sounded at the door. It was pushed gently open and a servant walked in carrying a large tray filled with food. Directly behind the maid was the ancient warrior himself.
"Mae govannen (8), Haldir, Lindir," Glorfindel said. "I am sorry to be so long in returning. Haldir, my apologies, as I am afraid I have barely left you time to dress for dinner. I appreciate your staying with Lindir and also, all the other help you have given today."
"You are welcome. It was my pleasure, Glorfindel," Haldir replied. I am sorry to leave your company, Lindir, but I do wish to refresh myself before the evening meal. Posto mae, maer dú. (9)"
"Maer dú (10), Haldir." Lindir replied with a smile as Haldir turned and took his leave.

Notes:
1. pen-neth - young one
2. Apanonar - The Afterborn
3. Mellonen - My friend
4. meldir - friend
5. Geheno lin, Haldir - Forgive me, Haldir
6. Avosto - Don't worry
7. Mae govannen - Well met
8. Posto mae, maer dú - Rest well, good night
9. Maer dú - Good night
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The Gift