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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.

Chapter List
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Please note that the disclaimer and warnings for this story are given at the begining of the first chapter.
CHAPTER 2:
Elrond brought his gaze away from the glorious morning view outside the opened balcony doors of his opulent study.
He had been daydreaming of her again...
The Lord of Imladris stiffled a sigh, focusing his full attention back to the two elves who were sitting across from his desk, their chairs as far apart as possible, leaving a space of palpable frostiness between them. That sight sent another wave of melancholia to wash upon the shores of his eroded heart and as he apologized for his momentary lapse, bidding them to continue with their respective reports, Elrond could not help but to silently curse the bitter twist of fate that had brought such cruel and irrevocable changes to all of their lives...
***
Glorfindel sighed, inwardly.
Oh! How he had come to loath this morning meetings...
Once, this had been a truly pleasant way to begin the day. A time when they, as the three most powerful elves in Imladris, not only discussed the on-going agenda for the realm's continued welfare, but also renewed the deep bonds of a friendship that had lasted for millenia.
But it was no longer so. For in the space of a single tragic day, nigh on a hundred years ago, their world and the pillars of their triad had come crashing down, sundering their once treasured connection into three jagged pieces.
And though Glorfindel knew why Elrond continued to cling to this morning ritual, he knew as well that the elf seated with stiff-backed composure but a short distance away, had no desire to bridge the yawning chasm between them.
For Erestor would never forgive him...
***
The dark advisor sat in his chair, feeling like a spring too-tightly coiled.
Why did Elrond persist in continuing with these morning meetings, when they had become naught but an exercise in tension, he did not know...
It would be so much easier to just call them in to give their reports at separate times. That way, Erestor would be able to avoid having any contact with the Balrog Slayer altoguether. As it was, they managed quite well when left to their own devices, since all necessary comunications between their offices, could be handled by their respective assistants.
But he did know.
Elrond continued to cling to this once-treasured morning ritual in the hopes that Erestor and Glorfindel would find a way to heal their bitter rift.
And though the dark advisor understood the intentions of his friend and Lord, he wanted to rise up from his chair, slam his hands down on the desk and scream at him to stop. For it was all in vain.
Erestor would never forgive Glorfindel, because his heart could not forget...

~~~~~~~~~~
A hundred years was a long time, by the reckoning of the diminished Edain of this age. But to one of the Eldar...
It seemed only yesterday that the Lady Celebrian had been bustling about, like a gossamer butterfly, as she oversaw the last of the preparations needed to undertake her journey. She merrily commanded the members of her escort, who all responded to her ordering-about with a twinkle in their eyes, brought on by seeing their usually graceful and composed Lady, behaving like an eager elfling.
She had good reason to act thus. For after several centuries, she was at last going on a long-overdue visit back to the realm of her birth.
From the steps of the Last Homely House, her now grown children laughed out loud at her antics. While the Lady's spouse, looked upon her and thought that, aside from the day of their bonding and the times she had gifted him with three sable-haired babes, she had never looked more beautiful than at that moment.
Anor's morning rays were as a kiss that turned her hip-length silver hair into a radiant nimbus and her brillant blue eyes, eyes that their daughter had inherited, shone like precious jewels as she looked back at her family and grinned, ruefully, at her own behavior.
A ways away from all the bustle, two figures had stood side by side, their postures betraying a hint of the new-found tension that lay between them. A tension that neither could have guessed was to be but a foreshadowing of times to come.
They had spent most of the previous evening arguing back and forth.
" It is too soon!." Eestor had said.
" These are peaceful times." Glorfindel had countered.
" But what if trouble should befall them?." The dark advisor had asked, in a last ditch attempt.
" You know that the warriors of Imladris can easily dispatch any band of brigands they come across. All of them are highly trained. All of them."
And with that, their argument had come to a chilled conclusion. As seneschal, the final decision on the Lady's escort had been Glorfindel's to make. And since Elrond was supremely confident with the choices, Erestor knew he had no footing to stand on.
How could any of them had known of the fate that awaited the travellers?. They, who were now taking their leave of the courtyard, amidst waves of happy farewell.
For orcs had not been seen in Arda since the Battle of the Last Alliance, back in the second age...
TBC...
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The Returned