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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
- 15
- 16
- 17
The Gift
by Mirasaui

Part 16: The Harpists
True to her word, Eowidith lugged the heavy serving tray down the corridor leading to Lindir's chambers, grumbling every step of the way and scowling at any who crossed her path. The old cook thought about the silver- haired elf that charmed her so. She knew that every word that came out of the warrior's mouth was pure wargwash but she did not care. It had been a long time since any elf had bothered to speak to her in honeyed tones, and even though she knew it was all in play, she loved the Marchwarden the more for it.
Reaching the door to the Lindir's room, she rested one edge of the tray against its surface, freeing her hand to knock against the wooden panel. Before she could actually make the sound, the door opened and a smiling Haldir took the tray from her grasp. "My dear Eowidith," the Marchwarden chided, "I did not expect you to lug this tray up here all by yourself. You must truly love me after all!" He laughed as the cook just shook her head and tsked at him.
"Captain Haldir, you will have me blushing like a young maiden if you keep this up. Now tell me where you wish to dine and I will set your places. You two lovebirds might wish to share your feast on the balcony, considering what a fine day this has turned out to be." Eowidith gave the Lórien warrior a huge smile then turned her gaze to Lindir and frowned. "Leave it to the young ones to sit on their thumbs and let their elder's do the work. You have hooked quite a prize, talagan (1), and if you do not watch it, he will swim away!"
"Ah, Eowidith, Lindir is Glorfindel's love, not mine." Haldir said with a smug look. "But for now, that is our little secret. So it is best you set up here on this table, after all, we do not wish to give anyone the wrong idea." Haldir directed her to a small table inside Lindir's chamber.
"I should have known you would have better sense than to choose an elf that has not a shred of meat on his bones." Eowidith said, looking like the proverbial cat that had just swallowed the canary. "Lord Glorfindel now, with all his fine ways and airs...well, I can see how such a delicate little bird would strike his fancy. Balrog Slayer indeed! Was he not just in my kitchen the other day asking for a tray to be brought to this very same room? And right in the middle of my dinner preparations. I let him know what I thought of that! Never seen an elf so glad to exit my kitchen; practically tucked his tail between his legs in his effort to leave. Protector of Imladris, hah! Why the first sign of an Orc and he would..."
"Now, now Eowidith," Haldir said, quickly interrupting the cook before she truly got started on her diatribe against the ancient warrior. "You must not go on so about Lindir's heart. I shall let you in on another secret, I am a long time friend of the seneschal and know all about the stories of the First and Second age." The Marchwarden put his arm around the stiff-backed cook and began to lead her gently from the room.
"Glorfindel was a lot different in those days and that night there was a terrible conflagration...dragons, orcs, demons from the darkest depths of Arda pouring destruction on the Hidden City. Very few escaped their wrath.
... And when the dreaded Balrog appeared cutting off all hope of escape, his fiery whip slaying all in his way, brave Glorfindel stepped up. The dark demon cried out, "Who is that ugly being that shines like the sun?"
...which of course infuriated Glorfindel and he plunged his sword deep into its heart. While dear Glorfindel was boasting of his bravado, preening and running his fingers through his shining hair, the cheeky Balrog grabbed a handful of the golden locks and pulled... "
And so it went. Out the door and down the hall, Haldir regaled an almost giggling Eowidith with a mostly nonfactual and somewhat comedic account of the duel to the death between the force of evil, the putrescent Balrog and light, Rivendell's own mighty Balrog Slayer, Glorfindel. By the time they made it to the great hall where they would part, Haldir knew that the ancient warrior would never be able to redeem himself in Eowidith's eyes. Eowidith, for her part proceeded to the kitchen with a smug grin, determined it was her duty to keep a watchful eye on the vain and self-centered elf that Lord Elrond had misguidedly brought home to Imladris and trusted to its security.
Now that she was out of sight, Haldir almost skipped down the corridor back to Lindir's room. He usually did not indulge in such fanciful tales (lies) but he knew the dour cook could use a little humour in her life and that she had sense enough to know fact from fiction even if she would be loathe to admit it. Haldir laughed. That was fun. His only regret about the whole incident was that if Lindir and Glorfindel had planned to keep their love a secret, the cat was now out of the bag. For Eowidith was known not only for her fiery temper, but also for having the biggest mouth this side of the Bruinen!
Pulling up once again to the entrance of Lindir's chamber, Haldir slipped inside and rested his back against the door. As soon as his eyes met those of Lindir, the two burst into laughter, neither able to stop for a long moment. "Ah, Haldir, I needed that," Lindir said when he was finally able to speak.
"Laughter is good for the soul," the Marchwarden replied, his shoulders still shaking slightly. "And Eowidith did take the time to bring our meal to us in person, so we must not let her efforts go to waste." The food was not only hot, but also delicious, and it did not take long before both Lindir and Haldir had eaten their fill and finished most of the bottle of vintage Mirkwood wine. In between bites, Lindir told Haldir what had transpired between him and Glorfindel, of the love they now shared, and he thanked Haldir for giving him the courage to bring it out into the open. And Haldir was truly glad for both his friends, for it gave him a warm feeling inside to know that two hearts would be lonely no longer.
They talked for awhile then Lindir began to clear the remnants of their feast from the table. Haldir watched then idly moved to sit upon the bed. As he looked around Lindir's room, he wondered at the life of the comely elf, for the room was luxurious but terribly impersonal. There were none of the tangible reminders of a homey existence - souvenirs from distant places, sentimental ornaments or the type of clutter one would normally see in a "lived-in" room. All surfaces were bare of decoration; the chamber was sterile, cold.
A bank of arched windowed openings in the far wall led to a wide balcony upon which sat two chairs and a small table. The light from the windows relieved the mahogany-panelled walls, which normally would have darkened the chamber. Lindir's carved wooden bed was the dominant piece of furniture and was covered with a beautiful, dark, blue quilt worked with light, blue embroidery in a pattern depicting a stylized lyre entwined with flowering vines. The bed was piled high with plump velvet pillows that carried the same colour scheme and made it looked quite inviting.
The whole room was arranged by someone with a gifted hand. The heavy curtains that framed each window and matched the spread were held back with ties that were fringed in the same light blue as the embroidery on the coverlet. A large cushioned chair with a comfortable matching ottoman repeated the same colours in heavier velvet brocade, the wood of its frame and legs carved in a beautiful flowing pattern so typical of Elven design.
Opposite the footboard of the bed was the second largest piece of furniture, a heavily burled mahogany wardrobe, its front panelled doors highly polished and outlined with raised moulding. The top of the wardrobe contained a decorative panel that rose to a point. It was carved in high relief, depicting the same lyre centered in the stitches of the spread. The whole was balanced on delicate curved feet, the entire piece reaching upward to within a foot of the high ceiling, whose curved surface was painted a pale blue and decorated with stars.
On each side of the bed was a small wooden table, one of which held a cast metal candelabrum and the other a vase of freshly cut flowers. On the left of the bed, against the corridor wall was a small bookcase. There were many volumes of books on its shelves, each sorted and arranged in precise order, for Lindir, like Erestor, was highly organized. After all, Lindir did help the advisor with research and with maintaining Lord Elrond's library. But in spite of the lovely adornments and the handsome furniture, the room could have belonged to anyone. There was nothing in it that spoke of its owner at all. Or so Haldir thought, till his eyes caught the far corner of the room. There, close to the window to take advantage of the light, was undoubtedly the most beautiful object in the room and the one most cared for.
The full-sized harp, only the second that Haldir had ever seen, rose to a height of almost six feet. It was lovely beyond all imagine. The sound box was vast, at least to Haldir, for he was used only to the lap harp and it rose at a slant from its stepped base on the floor. The rounded column of the harp was fluted with a carved capital, ending with a distinctive backward curlicue at the top. The neck was gracefully curved and 89 wrapped strings were attached to its left side. There were three rows of these strings, their bottoms attached in alternate spacing on the centre of the soundboard. The two outer rows were strung in unison, which Lindir later explained were tuned to the natural notes and the middle row was tuned to the accidentals. The whole of the harp was smoothly sanded and polished with a detailed carved and gilded decoration at the neck and the knee. The wide sound box was pierced and a lovely gilded and coloured floral design was painted around each hole. Haldir had never seen a triple harp up close and was extremely impressed with its size, look, and the overall beauty of its design.
Lindir, noting Haldir's examination of the harp, went to stand by its side. "Have you ever played a three row harp?" he asked. When Haldir shook his head, Lindir smiled. "It is difficult, for you must pluck the inside strings to play sharps and flats, but there are many more things about it that are unique, that make the effort worthwhile. For instance," and with this, Lindir sat behind the harp and rested it upon his left shoulder. His fingers gracefully plucked the outer strings and he played a series of quick repeats. Haldir's face lit with surprise. There was no way to reproduce that sound on a simple lap harp.
Lindir laughed at his expression. "Oh, there are many advantages to this instrument. I can play it so many different ways. I can play the melody of a tune with one hand or with both. I can alternate the melody with both hands or play with one hand and harmonize with the other. It is so much more complex than that which you play. He plucked a lively little tune and the shimmer of notes that the harp produced was like nothing Haldir had ever heard.
Entranced, the warrior came closer and reaching out, plucked a few of the strings with the pads of his fingers. "So lovely," he mused. "Play something, Lindir. The minstrel complied and the sound was as if three harpers sat together and played. The notes trilled up and down the scales, their sweet sounds lingering in the air, building in volume as Lindir plucked faster and harder on the strings, then softening, till almost naught was heard. The sound was as of laughter on a summer day and Haldir could hear the chirrup of tiny birds, the trill of the nightingale. Lindir changed his finger motion and Haldir imagined the soft patter of a gentle rain, the tinkling of a fountain. Each individual note rang clean and crisp and the two elves laughed with the joy of the music.
"Name me one of your favourites and we will play together," Lindir said, looking at the Marchwarden with shining blue eyes. Picking up the lap harp and testing its strings, Haldir cocked his head to the side in thought. "Perhaps the Lay of Nimrodel?" he suggested. And with Haldir playing the melody, Lindir's fingers on the great harp wove a moving accompaniment to the well-known lay.
"You are much better than you profess, Haldir," Lindir said. "I had no idea you played, much less the extent of your talent. I am surprised you do not sit with the harpers at the festivals in Lothlórien."
"You are kind in your compliments, Lindir, but you overstate my skill. There are a few guardians who have talent at the pipes and harp and we come together in fun. But it is never arranged and is not a formal practice, just an impromptu gathering." Haldir shrugged his shoulders as if to emphasize the non-importance of the event.
"Nevertheless, you are much better than you admit, and now that we have played together we must do so more often. Promise me we will play again at least once more before you leave!"
Lindir kept at it until he obtained a promise from the Marchwarden. They played a few more simple tunes, then Haldir played one that he had written himself. It was quick and lively and once Lindir learned the melody, he hummed along in time.
Eventually, Haldir tried his hand at the great Harp, laughing as his fingers tried to reach inside to the centre strings, much more difficult than it looked. "Aaagh, he cried in frustration, I can hit the notes, but it throws off my timing."
"It is a practice you must become used to," Lindir said, laughing along with Haldir. "It would not take you long to do so, and you will find once you play a triple harp, it is hard to give up.
"I daresay," said Haldir, "but I am sure they cost a fair amount of coin, and I cannot see one sitting in my talan. Besides, Rúmil and Orophin would have a fit. They tease me enough about the simple harp I play at home!"
"Well, you are welcome to play mine anytime. And the next time I visit Lothlórien, I plan to call you up for a duet. It is about time others heard your skill, for you play as well as many of the Harpers at Imladris. You constantly surprise me, Haldir. Your talents are numerous, and you display them with such modesty. What other skills have you that I have yet to discover?" Lindir smiled at the odd look that Haldir gave him.
"I have plenty others that it would not be appropriate for me to show you," Haldir said wistfully, but with a sly grin on his face. "I hope Glorfindel realizes what a treasure he has in you, mellonen (2), for if things were different, I would take you home with me to love and cherish. Ah, but you cannot control the ways of the heart and yours is bound to another."
"You are such a tease, Haldir," Lindir replied. "Come, let us play one more tune and this time we will sing the different parts together while we play. What about the song of Beren and Lúthien?" It is long, but if you can play it, I would love to hear us together."
"I can." Haldir replied. "I shall play the melody and you the accompaniment. I shall sing low part and you can sing high." It was a beautiful performance, the sad strains of the music telling the tale of the fateful lovers. Haldir's bass to Lindir's sweet soprano paid homage to both the music and the lyrics.
Such was Haldir and Lindir's joy in the music they could have played for the rest of the day, but time was passing and they had much to do. With a happy sigh, Haldir put down the harp and motioned for Lindir to do the same. "If you wish to browse the market and be done before Glorfindel arrives, we had best leave now."
Lindir nodded in agreement then feeling guilty about Tebring, asked if Haldir minded making a stop at the Healing House, for it lay in the direction they would be heading. Haldir voiced his acceptance and they left with that intention.
Tebring's mate, Tambor, and the ever faithful Garion were seated once again on the bench in the corridor when Haldir and Lindir entered the House of Healing. Tambor told them that Tebring still locked himself in seclusion and would speak only with Healer Anaran or Lord Elrond. They talked of Tebring's stubbornness and other matters but there was not much else they could do besides give their support to the grieving Tambor. They stayed for a while then politely made their leave, promising to return soon.
Since it would not be too much longer before Glorfindel was due back from patrol, Haldir and Lindir walked swiftly down the tree-shaded path that led to the market. They would spend a few hours looking at the different wares, and Haldir planned to suggest items he thought might appeal to Lindir and his ancient warrior.
-Ambush
"It is an ambush, fall back!" Glorfindel shouted, as he spun Asfaloth around. He had exchanged his bow for his sword as soon as the men dropped from their hidden perch in the trees. Vastly outnumbered, the seneschal knew the elves only hope would be to make a quick escape and ride back to meet the reinforcement unit he had sent for earlier.
Wielding his sword like the seasoned warrior that he was, Glorfindel tried to keep his eye on both the attackers and the two elves fighting by his side. During a moment of opportunity, he swung Asfaloth in between the men and his companions, giving the two guardians a free path to escape. "Noro assan!" (3) He shouted, knowing they were too well-trained to hesitate, and would obey his command and flee. He paused only long enough to make sure, before plunging back into the thick of the battle. He had fought a Balrog, surely he could hold the men off long enough to save his friends.
But these were not a mis-matched group of bandits he was fighting. True, they wore no marked armour but they fought as a highly trained unit and they knew how to fight against elves. Managing to keep Asfaloth near a close group of trees and vines, Glorfindel was able to keep the men from circling around behind him but their numbers were such he and Asfaloth were hard put to hold them off.
Drawing on inner reserves, Glorfindel began an ancient chant in Quenya. His time spent incarnate in Valinor was not in vain, as he had gained much power from his association with the Maiar. As the last words left his lips, his body began to glow from deep within, till a golden light burst forth, blinding all in its path, causing his enemies to back away. But the protection came a bit late. Before the spell had time to take hold, the ancient warrior received a deep gash in his thigh and another in his sword arm. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Glorfindel continued his chant in silence, praying his strength would hold in time for reinforcements to arrive.

Notes:
1. talagan - harper
2. mellonen - my friend
3. Noro assan! - Run for it!
The Triple Harp was crafted in Italy around the 16th century and came to the British Isles sometime in the 17th century. With the invention of the Pedal Harp its use declined. It has remained popular in Wales and is commonly known today as the Welsh Harp. Tolkien makes no mention of the Triple Harp in his books. The use of it in my story is simply due to the fact that I fell in love with it long ago.
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The Gift