The Returned | By : Liliana Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 8591 -:- 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. |
Author Notes:
Ertia: Thank you for the review sweety! :)
Hope everything is going well with you and I can't wait for your next update!.
Nikkiling: Glad you enjoyed the chocolate and Lindir. Keep him for as long as you need! *wink, wink*
DarkDreamer: The idea for the " Naming stones" came from an actual project I helped with a few years ago. All the volunteers got to have our names carved into individual bricks of the masonry wall we built. It was fun!
Jayn: Yes, Wonderer has a name...and a long road ahead of him. Hope you continue to enjoy his journey. :)
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CHAPTER 13:
" Erandir..."
The name fell from Glorfindel's lips in a soft gasp. He staggered backwards, as if forcibly pushed by the shocking revelation and would have fallen, had Taurnil not been there to steady him. Too overcome to regain any equilibrium, the Balrog Slayer leaned heavily against his old friend, his eyes almost impossibly wide as he stared at the two figures kneeling before the masonry planter.
" Erandir..."
This, then, was the reason for the feelings he had been experiencing. Feelings that until this moment, he had not understood. Glorfindel's heart constricted painfully, even as his vision did the same. Until everything around him became a clouded periphery that only served to sharpen the image at the center of his focus. He was vaguely aware of Elrond's voice, as his friend and lord took charge of the situation, dismissing the gathered elves until only he, Glorfindel and Taurnil remained to witness the play taking place between Erestor and Wonderer.
No, not Wonderer...Erandir.
Tears spilled from the colbat-colored eyes of the Balrog Slayer while he watched the stern advisor gently cup Erandir's broad face between his hands, holding it as if it were the most delicate treasure in all of Arda.
For as far as Erestor was concerned, it was.
He knew that the reality of what had been done to his little brother would sink in, soon enough. And he knew that when it did, the pain would strike his heart like a white-hot bolt of lighting.
But not yet, he prayed. Valar...not yet.
Let him keep seeing the beloved face, as it once was. Let him pretend that these last hundred years had been naught but a nightmare. Let him...
" Erestor."
The advisor reluctantly turned his head to look up at Elrond. The mighty lord was gazing down at him, his grey eyes filled with compasion and more than a hint of his own remembered sorrow.
" We should go inside, mellon nin." He said, gently. " We need to take..Erandir..to the healing rooms, so that I may..."
Elrond hesitated, torn between the desire to allow his oldest friend the time and privacy for this poignant reunion and the duty that he, as Lord of Imladris, had towards the welfare of all who dwelled within the hidden valley. A duty that made it imperative for him to determine exactly how much damage had been done to Erestor's brother by the forces of darkness. The peredhel lord took a steadying breath.
" I have to examine him, Erestor." He finished.
For the briefest of moments, the dark eyes of the advisor hardened.
{ Not yet... }
Then he nodded. " Aye, Elrond. I know what must be done."
Erestor turned his attention back to the altered form of his brother. He reached down to hold one of Erandir's dark hands, the first hint of that coming lighting bolt making him ache, as he could not help but notice how easily it could now encompass his own pale one, perhaps in a crushing fist.
{ Not yet... }
Gently, he tugged and Erandir rose with him, coming to a stand that was now a full head taller than his older sibling. Indeed, he was taller than the Lord of Imladris as well, his heavily-muscled body making it seem as if he was towering over the two, far more slender elves. And the vision of the little elfling that Erestor had been clinging to, began to fracture under the weight of reality.
{ Not yet... }
The three walked away from the planter, moving back across the courtyard until they reached the place where Glorfindel and Taurnil still stood. And though Erestor would have continued on past them, the choice was taken from him when Erandir came to an abrupt stop. The feral yellow eyes looked at the elf he had come to think of as ' The golden one'. The elf who had become his savior and protector. A soft, questing sound left his throat. The plea of one who was once more in need of that comforting presence, as he faced this new unknown. For one tense moment, the eyes of the Balrog Slayer met with those of the advisor, who had not spoken a direct word to him in nigh a hundred years. Then Erestor inclined his head, almost imperceptively.
" I will see to all that needs be done, my Lord." A quiet voice spoke next to Glorfindel, addressing the golden-haired warrior. " The reports from the scouts will be on your desk, when you are ready for them."
With those words, Taurnil came to stand in front of the group. He gave Erandir an affectionate pat on the shoulder, before taking his leave of the three elven lords with a respectfull bow. As the stalwart warrior made his way towards the barracks, so did Elrond resume leading the way to the healing rooms. Close behind him, Erestor and Glorfindel followed and between them, Erandir, who had left Imladris as an elf and was now returned as something else...
The physical part of the examination had been over quickly enough, as it was quite apparent that Erandir's body, in all its unsettling similarities to the Uruk-Hai, was likewise superbly conditioned. Through out the process, Erandir willingly and docilely submitted to Elrond's handling. The scent of the healer was one he not only recognized on its own right, but one that he closely associated with the silver-haired lady of his visions. Thus, he trustingly drank from the cup that was then put to his lips and allowed himself to be gently guided back to lay upon the comfortable bed. As his breathing settled into the rythm of deep sleep, Elrond asked that Erestor and Glorfindel await him in the adjoining sitting room. For what the peredhel lord was about to undertake, required his utmost concentration...
Time seemed to drag by interminably for the two elves standing at opposite sides of the small sitting room. Earlier, Glorfindel had softly called out Erestor's name, only to have the advisor walk away and go stand by the window, with his back to him. So they had continued to wait in silence, the frosty barrier between them still an almost palpable thing.
That was how the Lord of Imladris found them.
Yet for all their distance, the faces of the two elves became identical mirrors of alarm when they saw the worn and pale healer come through the doorway.
" Elrond!." Glorfindel exclaimed, rushing to his side as Erestor did the same.
" All is well. Be at peace." Elrond quickly reassured them. " Erandir will sleep deeply until the morrow." He then exhaled a tired breath, before continuing. " And I must seek some rest as well, before I can tell you of my findings. For I fear that I am quite...drained."
" I will escort you to your chambers." Glorfindel immediately offered.
" Nay, mellon nin. I would rather you remain here, with Erestor." Elrond said, before turning to look at the advisor. " We will speak at length later. But for now, as difficult as it is, you must let your brother sleep on undisturbed."
" Aye, Elrond. Though I see no need for company as I stand my vigil." Erestor said, his tone becoming icy.
" Nevertheless, humor me." Elrond answered. And with those last words, he took his leave of the other two elves.
The request proved to be well-founded. For shortly after the peredhel lord exited, The stoic composure that Erestor had somehow managed to maintain crumbled, as that promised lighting bolt of pain finally struck. Reeling from it, Erestor clutched at his chest, a strangled cry tearing from his throat. The sound pierced the Balrog Slayer's own heart and throwing caution to the wind, he gathered the advisor to himself, as both began to cry. All animosity between them was forgotten at that moment. Erestor clung to the warrior like one who knows he is drowning and so is desperate to seek any way to stay afloat.
For Glorfindel, the poignancy of the situation reached new heights, when the subtle scent of cinnamon and mint waffed to his nose from Erestor's dark hair. It was the same scent that had haunted him for the last hundred years. The scent that was unique to the one who had been his lover for nearly three millenia, before their bond had been torn asunder by his decision to send Erandir on that doomed journey. Closing his eyes, the Balrog Slayer breathed deeply of it.
At last, he once more held his beloved in his arms.
But oh! at what price...
TBC...
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