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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
- 24
- 25
- 26
The Gift
by Mirasaui

Chapter Part 25: Lost and Found
Haldir worried. It was as if Lindir had vanished. One moment he had been hot on Lindir's trail and the next it was stone cold. Tracking an Elf like Lindir through the woods should have been easy. After all, Haldir was a Marchwarden! How could Lindir have eluded him so thoroughly? There was not a blade of grass, bush, branch, or leaf disturbed that would indicate his passing. Even the trees were silent and could not or would not tell of Lindir's presence. Haldir had been searching now for hours and was ready to admit he needed help, most specifically Glorfindel's. But how was he to tell his long-time friend that Lindir had run, again? And what had caused the minstrel to act the way that he had? What deep dark secret did the Elf possess that made him believe he would be cast aside by his friends if it were revealed?
Haldir raised his hands in frustration. "Dragon fire!" He felt such a fool. Lindir had run, only the Valar knew why, just when Glorfindel needed him the most. Making up his mind, Haldir ran as fast as he could back to The Last Homely House. He had to find Glorfindel before Lindir left Imladris proper.
Glorfindel had only been in his room for a few moments when a breathless and wild-eyed Haldir burst through the door. "Glorfindel, it is Lindir," he managed to get out, "he has left, h-he is leaving Imladris!"
Before he could finish the last of his sentence, the ancient warrior had grasped Haldir's shoulders tightly with his large hands, shaking him in his effort to drag out more information.
"When, Haldir... when did he leave? Why? What happened?" Once Glorfindel was over his initial shock, he released his hands from the Marchwarden and hurriedly began strapping on his weapons. "Where last did you see him and which direction was he heading? Never mind, tell me on the way!"
Haldir related his last conversation with Lindir, the minstrel's unexpected flight and the efforts he had made to locate the Elf as they hurried down the hall and out of The Last Homely House, the wheels of Glorfindel's mind turning with each step they took.
"I have already sent a guardian to the stable and one to the gates, if any have seen him they shall inform us ," the Marchwarden finished.
"To the stables, Haldir." Glorfindel commanded. "He has such a head start, we shall never catch him on foot!"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a guardian appeared leading Glorfindel's Asfaloth and Haldir's grey.
"My Lord Glorfindel, Marchwarden Haldir," the sentry said with a slight bow, "Lindir must have doubled back and headed for the stables. He passed through the gate riding his brown mare heading towards the Ford. I have provided a fully provisioned pack for each of you and Garion is organizing a search party."
Both Glorfindel and Haldir were already mounted and moving by the time the guardian finished speaking. "Inform Garion we ride for the Ford," Glorfindel yelled over his shoulder as he dug his knees into Asfaloth's side. Sensing his master's urgency the great white horse bunched his muscles and was soon flying down the path in a wild gallop with Haldir on his grey just a nose length behind.
Though one part of his mind kept a lookout for prints left by Lindir's horse, the other was racing over reasons why Lindir would have run. What was it Haldir had said? That Lindir had done something in his past that would cause his friends to look at him shamefully. Glorfindel could not think of any rumor or hint of such an action and he had known the minstrel since first he came to Imladris. Lindir had been but an elfling then and a traumatized one at that. The poor child had never regained his memories of his parents' death. Glorfindel, Elrond, Erestor, and a few guardians were the only ones who knew what truly happened and they had sworn never to reveal those facts. Lindir believed in his heart that Orcs had caused the tragedy and that was for the best.
Bending low over Asfaloth's neck, Glorfindel urged Asfaloth to go faster. Although Lindir was a trained guardian, it was never a good idea to travel outside of the borders alone. Orcs, Wargs, wolves and Men were amongst the dangers one could come across unexpectedly, and even if the woods were clear of these enemies, there were other ways to get hurt. The thought of Lindir lying injured and helpless only made Glorfindel more anxious and determined to find his lover.
It was all Haldir could do to keep up with the warrior. His grey was a swift runner, bred for speed as were all the horses of Lórien, but Asfaloth was unique, the closest an Elven-bred stallion could be to the famed Mearas of Rohan. If Glorfindel kept up his maddening pace, he would not have the Marchwarden's protection when he arrived at the Bruinen crossing. But Haldir knew there was no point asking his friend to slow down. Glorfindel was on a quest and there would be no stopping him until he reached his goal, no reasoning with him either, the Lórien Elf thought with a grimace.
As if reading Haldir's mind, Glorfindel urged Asfaloth to an even faster pace, leaving Haldir and his mount in the dust. A fleeting glimpse of the seneschal's golden hair and Asfaloth's white tail streaming in the wind was the last the Marchwarden saw of the pair as they passed from view around a bend in the road. Haldir knew he was not that far behind, so losing Glorfindel was not the problem. But Asfaloth was not only faster than the Marchwarden's grey, he also had much greater endurance. If this chase lasted long, Haldir would be forced to rest and there would be no talking his friend into joining him. Glorfindel would stubbornly continue on his own. Haldir could only hope they found Lindir soon.
Lindir on the other hand was just as stubborn as his Balrog Slayer. It had been easy enough to elude Haldir, for the Marchwarden was not familiar with the woods of Imladris and Lindir knew plenty places to hide. While Haldir was searching for his tracks, Lindir had taken to the trees, knowing his woody friends would help him and not give away his whereabouts to a stranger. He had doubled back and headed away from the market to the barracks, where he had taken what supplies he needed then calmly walked to the stables. The lads who cared for the horses had no reason to stop him, so he was able to provision his mare and leave unmolested. The guardians at the gate were his friends and although they probably thought it odd he was leaving Imladris without escort, did not believe it necessary to question his errand.
He knew that Glorfindel would come after him, but he hoped he had enough of a head start to avoid meeting his former lover. For Glorfindel would not rest until he learned the truth and that was something Lindir wished never to reveal. Sador would be his companion now for as long as he could keep her. The season's mildness ensured plenty of sweet grass for grazing so he would not have to worry about purchasing feed. For himself, he had his bow and could forage off the land. Crossing the Ford at this time of year would not be a problem, so he urged his mare onward. He wished to far from Imladris by sun's set so he would have time to find a sheltered and hidden spot to camp. The trees there would not be as friendly as those of home and he had Sador to consider. There would be time later to choose a destination, for now he would continue his trek west.
~~~~~~~~~~
Meneldîn hummed as she carried the tray down the stone steps. Although it was frightening to enter the part of Imladris where those of dangerous mind were housed, Meneldîn treasured this escape from the kitchen and the watchful eye of Eowidith. Not only would the guards be glad to see her, for her visit relieved their boredom, but she would be able to spend a few moments with her special friend, Cirith.
Cirith and Meneldîn had both been born in Imladris and their friendship started at an early age. It was only recently that their platonic relationship had changed into something different, when Meneldîn received her first kiss. She blushed as she thought of her friend and the way his eyes would light up when he saw her. So it was with some surprise that she approached the cell where the Half-elf waited for her tray to discover Cirith not on duty.
Neither of the three guardians, Maethor, Hebor and Gelir, seated around the small table were of the group that had been here yesterday, but she had seen them often on the practice fields. They were playing a dice game that had become popular around the barracks, a game which to her nana's chagrin, Cirith had taught her. It was a game not suited for ladies as it involved gambling. If their captain caught the sentries at it they would be reprimanded, but the likely-hood of that was slim, for rarely did he visit the cells.
Feeling disappointed, as she had been looking forward to speaking with her friend, she addressed the sentry closest to her. "Gelir, I have a tray for your prisoner, you had best deliver his food while it is warm."
The guardian smiled, rose from his chair and took the tray from her hand. "What a pleasure to receive a gift from such a beautiful lady," he said with a grin. Meneldîn blushed and returned his smile.
"I can wait or return later for the tray when the prisoner is finished," she replied, tilting her head in the direction of the Half-elf's cell.
"That is up to you, my sweet," Gelir returned, shrugging his shoulders. "You are welcome to join us in our game if you do not wish to return to the kitchen.." Before she could answer, the others at the table began gesturing at the chair the guardian had vacated, begging her to sit and play. With a merry laugh she seated herself and waited for the dice to come her way.
Once Gelir had delivered the prisoner's meal, he pulled another chair to the table and the game proceeded in earnest. They had played a few rounds, when Hebor placed three coins upon the table. "It is time we played for stakes," he stated. Meneldîn pouted, for she had no coin. "That knocks me out," she said, "I have no ante."
"I will wager against one of your sweet kisses," Hebor said, with a mirthful grin.
"Aye, brother and you will have Cirith to face if you win!" Maethor, the Elf sitting next to him replied. "Meneldîn is already wondering why it is your ugly face sitting here instead of his. Turning to Meneldîn, he addressed the question that had been on her mind. "With Lord Glorfindel's resignation, the weekly schedules were not completed. Captain Naldor put us back on last month's duties. Cirith is back at the gate this week. Hebor, put your money away, as long as Meneldîn is here we play no stakes. When she leaves, then I will give you the opportunity to enrich my pockets."
The game continued until Gelir, who was sitting closest to the cell, pushed back his chair and stretched. "It is time you returned, my dear. Give me but a moment and I shall retrieve your tray."
Removing a ring of keys from a peg on the wall, Gelir unlocked the cell door and went inside, closing the door behind him. Not a few moments later there was a crash, and the other two guards were on their feet. Before they could draw their weapons, Vand opened the door, his arm around Gelir's throat, the guard's own knife pressed against it.
"If you discard your weapons, he will come to no harm," Vand spoke in an even voice. The captured guard's face was white, his eyes wide open in shock. The two brothers still at the table looked at each other then slowly let their weapons fall to the floor, raising their hands to show they were empty. Vand nodded his head at Meneldîn, "You...wench...pick up the weapons and put them over in that corner." Meneldîn was shaking with fright, but she hurriedly did that which the peredhel asked. When she had finished, Vand stepped away from the door of the cell, gesturing to the other two guards and Meneldîn to step through it. When they had done so, he pulled the ring of keys from his belt and locked them in.
Once his comrades were imprisoned, Gelir's fright increased. The Half-elf was incredibly strong and his grip around his made it hard for him to breathe. As if in a dream he heard Vand's voice command him to strip.
"I cannot do so with your arm around my neck," Gelir replied.
Vand laughed cruelly. "You had best find a way and quickly."
His hands shaking, Gelir managed to do as the Half-elf requested, until he was leaning against Vand in nothing but his loincloth, his uniform in a pile on the floor. Vand dragged Gelir over to the door of the cell, opened it with the key and pushed the guard through, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him. As quickly as he could he removed his clothes and donned Gelir's discarded uniform. Then taking his pick from the weapons in the corner, outfitted himself with bow, quiver and sword. His final action before he left was to pick up his old clothes and stuff them through the barred window of the cell door. "Do not wish to offend the lady," he uttered with a smirk. Creeping cautiously up the stairs, he had soon exited the Last Homely House and in the blink of an eye, vanished into the woods.
Eowidith was fuming. She had sent Meneldîn on a simple errand that should not have taken more than an hour. But it was past that time and the elf had not returned. She knew what ailed her servant, for that young guardian was always hanging around the kitchen making eyes at the maid, but young love or not, this was the last straw. Turning to an Elf that was cutting up vegetables, Eowidith directed her to go to the lower floor and bring Meneldîn back. "Inform her, Galwen, one more lapse like this one and she will spend next week mucking out the stables!"
Hardly any time had passed, when Eowidith suddenly found a hysterical she-elf tugging at her arm. "The prisoner has escaped and Meneldîn and the guards are locked in a cell," Galwen cried, "I cannot find the keys to let them out!"
"Elbereth, child! What do you come to me for, 'tis the guards you must notify, hurry now, before we all end up with our throats cut!" Eowidith pushed the elleth (1) out of the kitchen, mumbling under her breath about a spoiled dinner and a Balrog Slayer that should have stayed in the Halls of Mandos.
It had been long since the warning bell was sounded in Imladris, but with the escape of the Half-elf, Commander Naldor felt it was warranted. The deep notes of the bell as the clapper hammered against its cast surface broadcast a message of doom throughout the valley. All that heard it paused what they were doing and began to walk swiftly to the Last Homely House.
Garion and the five Elves of the search party he commanded also heard the peals of the bell. Without hesitation, Garion turned the group around and headed back to Imladris, the safety of the Last Homely House and his Lord overriding that of one elf. When they reached the gates, all were assigned to the frenzied search for the escaped prisoner.
Commander Naldor had personally informed Lord Elrond of the escape and his lord had directed Erestor to write messages that would be sent by to Lothlórien and the Greenwood, warning them of what had occurred. Commander Naldor also told them about Lindir. Both lords were beside themselves with worry for the community at large and for the minstrel. The Commander had assigned extra protection for Lord Elrond and the twins, even though both felt that the Half-elf would most likely be determined to leave Imladris.
Later, alone with his lord in Elrond's study, Erestor voiced his concern over Lindir's solitude on the road and expressed his relief that Glorfindel and Haldir had gone after him. Lord Elrond, at the mention of his former Seneschal, said not a word, but pressed his lips together in a thin line. Erestor noticed the reaction and decided it was time to intervene.
"You have been his friend for millennia," Erestor said calmly, "can you not forgive him now for his folly? Perhaps if he...."
But Lord Elrond did not let Erestor finish. In a voice that could barely control his irritation, he answered his advisor. "When and if Glorfindel returns with Lindir, I will discuss this, for now there are more pressing matters upon which I must post my attention!"
"As you wish my Lord," Erestor nodded his head, feeling not a little bit sorry for his long time friend. He sighed, wishing Glorfindel good speed and great luck in his search.
Lindir and Sador continued at a canter down the path leading to the Ford, when suddenly Sador's gait faltered and she began to limp, directly thereafter coming to a complete halt. The minstrel jumped from her back and looked for the cause of the injury. He examined each hoof and found a stone wedged painfully in the one on the right. He removed it and walked her around in a circle, checking to see how she distributed her weight.
"Elbereth," he exclaimed, realizing Sador's muscles had tied up causing extremely painful cramps. He sighed then began to give the trembling mare a massage. This he continued for a few moments until the stiffness and cramping began to subside. Patting her neck and speaking words of comfort, he walked her around slowly. There was no way he would be able to ride the mare, she should in all rights be returned to the stable for care. But Lindir could not go back. He would have to find a place where they could both rest and be hidden from the road. Leading the mare into the woods, he began to seek such a location.
He found such a place after a fair walk into the wood. Trees hid a tiny clearing with enough space for him and Sador to rest comfortably. He gave his mare water then brushed her coat and massaged her sore muscles again, covering her with a blanket when he was through. He would let Sador rest, then walk her again later.
Sitting down in front of a large oak, Lindir folded his arms on top of his knees and lay his chin upon them. Now that he had stopped his race to reach the Ford, his situation hit full force. Sobs wracked his slender frame as he cried his sorrow to Sador and the surrounding woods. Oh, how he would miss his golden warrior, his taste, his touch, his love. No, Lindir thought, he did not deserve that love anymore, nor had he ever. Glorfindel was as lost to him as if he had never known the Elf. He cried until he had no tears left, until he was exhausted and empty inside. Then curling up besides a root, he watched his mare, waiting for the time to pass before he would walk her again. Melancholy and depressed beyond measure, he did not realize when sleep overtook him. Only the old oak at whose feet he sheltered acknowledged that the unhappy being beside him was for the moment, at rest and at peace.
Anor had moved behind the trees when Glorfindel commanded Asfaloth to stop. Sador's tracks had vanished and the warrior wondered why. Dismounting, he searched the surrounding area, looking for clues of Lindir's whereabouts. Hooves pounding against the dirt told him that Haldir was not far behind, and it was just moments later that the Marchwarden halted his gray and hopped from its back.
"Any signs?" Haldir asked, walking over to where Glorfindel was examining the brush at the side of the road.
"It looks as if they passed through here, Haldir," Glorfindel replied, pointing to a faint impression in the soft dirt underneath a bush. "From the depth of these tracks, I think Sador has injured her back leg, possibly a stone bruise or a cramp. Stay here and wait for the search party, I am going in after Lindir. If I need help, I will signal. If I am not back by the time Anor sets, you will know I have found trouble."
Haldir nodded then squeezed Glorfindel's shoulder. "I hope you find him, meldir (2)."
Sky-blue eyes which moments before had mirrored despair now shone with hope as Glorfindel paused at Haldir's words. "I will not stop looking until I do," Glorfindel whispered, "for I cannot live without Lindir." Squeezing his friend's shoulder in return, he turned and entered the wood.
His soft leather boots made no sound as he moved, searching the ground for the U-shaped imprints of Sador's hooves. Lindir as an Elf and guardian left no trace of his passing, so although Glorfindel wished no harm to any being, he was thankful that Lindir's mare had given him a trail to follow. He could only hope he would come across his love before Anor set, for even Elven eyes would have difficulty seeing the faint marks in the darkness.
Time passed slowly for Glorfindel, his thoughts never straying from the elf that had caught his heart. Memories of Lindir and their time spent together flashed before his eyes and he wondered again what caused the minstrel to run, what it was that Lindir feared. Only yesterday, Lindir had assured him that nothing would ever come between them. Now, as Glorfindel walked the woods he was wracked with doubt. Even if he did find the minstrel, would Lindir still want him? Now that he had opened his heart, would it be broken once again? He wanted to cry his frustration and misery to the world, but he kept silent, not wanting to alert his love if Lindir were near.
He had begun to wonder if perhaps this trail was old, when he heard the soft nicker of a horse. Closing his eyes for a moment, he prayed to the Valar that he would find Lindir and his lover would not be injured. As quietly and stealthily as he could, he approached a dense patch of trees and foliage, just the place that an Elf who did not want to be found would choose for hiding.
Years of training made Lindir alert to any disturbance in the forest, but in his saddened state, he almost missed the faint sound that was alien to the natural surrounding. When Sador nickered softly, he crouched, his ears straining for the least noise or movement. Pulling his knife from his boot, he crept silently across the clearing towards the shelter of the trees on the other side.
A flash of gold from behind made him tense. He tried to run but before he could reach his stride, a heavy weight crashed onto his back and pushed him to the ground. Glorfindel held on tightly to his love as Lindir struggled to free himself, crying Lindir's name as tears welled in his eyes.
"Leave me be, Glorfindel, please. Let me go," Lindir whispered in between pants as he strove to free himself from the strong grasp of the Elda. But his effort was in vain; he could not dislodge the heavier and stronger elf.
"Why, Lindir, why? Glorfindel whispered, tears flowing freely now that he had his lover in his arms. "Why have you run from me? What have I done to deserve this?"
Lindir, hearing his lover's plea, felt a dam burst inside. His body heaved with his sobs as he fought to catch his breath. The fight had left him, he had no choice but to tell the only one he had ever loved why it was their love could not be.
"I-I never wished to hurt you, Glorfindel," Lindir said. "If y-you release me I will tell you what you wish to hear." The minstrel's voice hitched at these words and Glorfindel took pity on him, loosening his grip. Lindir turned onto his back so he was facing his lover. He looked into the warrior's wet eyes and his heart bled at seeing Glorfindel's tear-stained cheeks. His resolve weakened, his courage almost failed him, but he could not hold his secret inside any longer. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and began his story.
"I am not what I seem, Glorfindel. All these years, I have called Imladris home and partaken of its hospitality. But I have given nothing in return but falsehood and dishonesty. You, who at an early stage in my life, I called benefactor, I betrayed most of all."
Here Lindir paused, trying to find the courage to go on. Glorfindel had not said a word once he had released Lindir, only gazed at him with eyes filled with hurt. If Lindir could erase that look, he would give the world, but he knew his next words would cut deep, words that once spoken would leave no doubt in the warrior's mind that Lindir was worse than evil.
"At the time in my life that I needed someone the most, you found and comforted me. I was but an elfling, hurting, bleeding inside, yet you took me in and gave to me so much of yourself. The long days I spent in the healing halls found you always at my bedside, ever cheery and supportive, and I looked forward to your visits each and every day.
"Lord Elrond healed my body, but you healed my spirit, at least as much as any could. And you were kind not to ask what I had been through and I hid it deep inside, knowing that if I told, all I had gained would be lost.
"But others asked and guessed. I let them think that which was not true. After my parents' death, Glorfindel, I did lose my senses for a while. It was then you found me, and I believed at the time you were one of the Valar, come to take me to Aman. Your hair shone golden in the sun and your eyes were like an endless summer sky. I could have gazed forever into their depths. You were my savior; my hero and I worshipped you. But you, like everyone else, I played false."
Here Lindir paused. His eyes of ocean blue eyes gazed into those of the sky, the same that he remembered from that long ago day. Only this time, they brought no comfort, only pain. Pain because he knew this was the last time Glorfindel would look at him as a friend, much less a lover.
Other memories surfaced. The cold look on a bearded face of one that watched as an Elf fought desperately for his life. Lindir felt again the rock hard grip around his chest as he struggled to free himself, just as he had struggled with his lover only moments ago. He saw his father's expression of surprise as the red river of life poured from his body, heard his last whisper of love to his only son. These scenes flashed in never-ending play before his eyes. He saw his mother and the hurts the cruel men inflicted on her body. Hurts not understood at his tender age, but grasped years later. The men had made him watch as they defiled her body. He had seen the light fade from her face just as it had from that of his dear father.
If only he had struggled harder, had bit and stomped and scratched at his captor, done anything to remove the vile arms that held him. But he had only watched and cried to the Valar to show mercy. That was only the beginning of his crime. When the light had died from both of his parents and the Men had released him from their hold, he did not fall upon the knife and travel to the place where his loved ones beckoned. No, he was selfish and he pleaded, nay begged for his life. He deserted his parents, left them calling for him as they made their way to the place where the wronged reside. Left them childless... and for what? To beg succor from the very souls who ruthlessly maimed and murdered them. Betrayed the two elves that had cared for him more than life itself, who had died trying to protect him.
He had done as the Men bade. With blistered hands, he had turned the earth aside to dig the grave that would be his parents' final resting-place. He had endured the taunts, the tough of their filthy hands. Endured it all, for one more glimpse of the sun and the green growing of the trees and when the hole he had dug was deep enough to cover those dear ones that had given him life, he was the first to cast the dark earth over them.
It had been that moment when through his tears, he saw her, the ghostly outline of his mother as she opened her arms and beckoned Lindir to her. Tearfully she cried his name over and over. Oh how Lindir had longed to feel the warmth of her embrace, to have her hold him next to her heart and whisper sweet words of endearment. But his feet would not move, his wish for life was too strong. And so, he broke his mother's heart. With his own so burdened with sorrow he could barely stand, he watched as the ghostly image of his father gave him one last, longing glance, then placed his arm around his mother's shoulder and led her away, their sorrowful images fading into the trees. Lindir was never to see them again except in dreams. Coming out of his reverie, he looked at the beautiful face of his love.
"M-my parents were not murdered by Orcs as I led everyone to believe, Glorfindel," Lindir burst out suddenly, "I killed them!" And in a softer voice, "I killed them."
And with that he jumped to his feet and ran. Glorfindel followed, but the injury to his thigh would not allow him the speed he needed to catch the younger elf. Still he ran, on and on until he thought his heart would burst from his chest. Just as he felt he could run no more, the Valar granted him a gift. Lindir's boot caught on a root and the minstrel fell. Glorfindel pushed with all he had and in a maddening dive managed to catch Lindir by the ankle before Lindir re-gained his footing. With the strength of years of practice with the sword, the Elda pinned Lindir to the ground once more.
It was a moment before Glorfindel could draw breath but when he did, he spoke in a whisper. "No, Lindir, you are wrong. I saw your parents die and it was not you that killed them."
"You were there!" Lindir exclaimed in disbelief. "You were there and did naught to stop it?"
Glorfindel turned the minstrel so they were face to face, but still kept a tight hold on him. "Nay, meleth (3), I was not there when it happened. Did you truly believe that after finding one so young, lost, abandoned and abused, that I would make no effort to find the cause? Once you were settled comfortably and sedated, I led a party of elves on a search. It took us long, but we found the grave where your parents were buried. When we unearthed the bodies we saw the cause of their death. No elfling could have caused those hurts, Lindir, even if he had a mind to.
"We brought your parent's bodies back to Imladris, Lindir, where they were given an Elven burial. You were heavily sedated and too weak to attend. We thought the trauma of seeing your parents die had left you in a weakened state, not just your body, Lindir, but your mind. So we hid our findings from you when you awakened, waiting for a better time to tell you."
"But you never did, Glorfindel," Lindir said, once more expressing disbelief that such an event was kept from him. "Why?"
Glorfindel struggled with the question and for a long time did not answer. "There is more to the story, Lindir, but I swore an oath that I would not reveal it to you. I wish I could, but I cannot."
"Cannot, Glorfindel, or will not!" Lindir snapped his eyes ablaze. "I was worried that my lies would cause you hurt and now I find you have secrets that are just as dark. Let me up," he cried, trying to pry the warrior's hands from his arms.
Glorfindel moved to a sitting position and pulled Lindir up with him, however he still did not release him from his hold. "Everything I have done to you and for you has been for your own good. I love you Lindir, that is not a lie. What I withhold from you, I do only because it would hurt you to know the truth."
"Oh, and what gives you the power to determine that, Glorfindel!" Lindir almost spat in the other's face. "Hurt? You wish to know about hurt? I did watch my parent's die. You wondered once why I had such hatred of Men? So would you, meldir, if you were pulled from your father's arms by a filthy group of Edain--cutthroats, thieves. Twenty against one it was and my adar could not take them all. He died when the leader's sword pierced his heart, and I watched his blood flow till there was none left in his body. Yes, Glorfindel, I watched as the last words from his lips were for his wife and son. He died knowing what his wife would face next, and I watched for him as each one took my mother, watched while her lips that kissed me so tenderly were ravaged by those...animals. Watched and screamed as they killed her with their passion, watched until she no longer drew breath. What could you withhold from me, gwador, that could be worse than that!"
"Glorfindel's eyes went wide with shock as he listened to Lindir." You knew!" he whispered, "You knew all along! That which we swore to keep secret, which we thought would send you over the edge, you already knew!"
"Does that shock you, Glorfindel? That I watched and did nothing?" Lindir asked. "You talk of more, well I will tell you...more. You are right, Glorfindel, it was men that took the life from my parents' bodies, but it was I that killed their hearts! It was I who begged for life while they pleaded with me to leave Arda, to enter into Mandos' Halls. I broke their hearts into tiny pieces. They will be reborn and live in Valinor, but I... I can never face them again!"
Lindir tried once again to free himself from Glorfindel's grasp, not wishing to see the hatred that he knew would show in the Elda's eyes. But Glorfindel held him fast, and to his amazement, kissed his tears away.
"Lindir, my love... Lindir, you were so young. I ,myself, would have chosen as you did in that situation. Do you truly think your parents would have wished for you to die, parents as caring as yours? No love, in your shock your mind conjured a vision that you wished to see, that of your mother begging you to stay with her, because you did not want her to be gone. I have been to Mandos' Halls. None return from there the way you pictured, nor linger between this life and death the way you describe. I speak the truth, my love, from experience. Yes, you have lived with a lie all your life, Lindir, but it is your vision that is false, not you. You did nothing wrong, Lindir. You were wronged."
"Y-you do not hate me?" Lindir asked hesitantly, "knowing that which I did?"
"Lindir, look into my eyes and see the truth," Glorfindel commanded. And Lindir looked, and he saw.
Haldir heard them before they appeared, two muddied, bedraggled elves with tear-stained cheeks, leaning against each other, love shining in their eyes. Following behind was a sleepy and bored mare. Thanking the Valar that they were safe, Haldir rushed over and swept them both into his arms.

Notes:
1. elleth - female elf, elf maid
2. meldir - friend
3. meleth - love
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The Gift