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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.

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The Gift
by Mirasaui

Part 3: A New Tradition

"That was a grand story, Haldir!" the twins exclaimed after Haldir had finished with his tale. "Theren had a loving family and many friends. Ada (1), may we not start our own tradition and exchange gifts?" Elrohir asked his father.

"Yes, Ada, we could draw names this very night." Elladan seconded his brother's idea. "We do not have as many in our family as Althos, but we could include all at the table, for they are close friends. We could all meet next year at the same time. Please, Ada? Let it be so. Please?"
Elrond laughed softly. "See, Haldir, what you have started! We will never have a moment's peace until I relent. Very well, Elrohir and Elladan, That was a beautiful story and it would please me to start such a tradition here at Imladris."
"There is no guarantee that I will be present each year," Haldir told the two elflings. Maybe you should limit this celebration to your family."
"But it was you, Haldir, that gave us the idea," Elladan pouted. "Please Ada, can you not tell Iaurnaneth (2) and Iauradar (3) that Haldir must be here each year. Can they not do without him for such a short time?"
Elrond winked at the Marchwarden. "I believe Celeborn can be persuaded to give up his Marchwarden for such an occasion." Elrond turned and spoke to his footman. "Would you fetch me a pen, parchment and ink?" When the servant had done as he requested, Elrond wrote down the names of all that were at the table, including his wife who was not present. He read them aloud:
"Elrond, Celebrían, Glorfindel, Erestor, Elrohir, Elladan, Haldir and Lindir.
"That is eight, a nice round number. Elrohir, tear this parchment into strips and fold each so the names do not show. Find a bowl, Elladan. We shall place the names inside so the drawing may be fair."
"I am not sure I should be included in the drawing," Lindir said. I am not a member of the immediate household. I am only here at the table because I am off duty this week."
"Nonsense," Glorfindel spoke up loudly. "You belong just as much as Erestor, Haldir and I. We are not of the immediate family but we are all family friends. That is what counts, is it not, Haldir? Was that not the point of your story?"
"Aye, I suppose it was," Haldir mused. "Perhaps, I shall draw your name pen- velui (4), I know just what you need!" Haldir grinned, batting his eye lashes playfully at the blue-eyed Vanya across the table. Glorfindel was about to make a similar retort, but held his tongue at a glare from Elrond.
"That is enough from you two!" Elrond spoke sharply. He turned to his two sons. "If you are through, pass the bowl so all may draw a name. Keep the name you choose a secret for we wish it to be a surprise when we meet again next year."
"Ada?" spoke up Elladan. "Must we wait a whole year before we give our presents? May we not make an exception this time? Haldir shall be leaving at the end of the week. Why not present our gifts on his last night? We could draw names later for next year.
Please, Ada?" Both twins turned pleading eyes to their Father and again, he gave in.
"Is that agreeable to you, my friends?" Elrond asked. I shall omit Celebrían's name as she is in Lothlórien and add her for the drawing next year. Remind me, Erestor, to ask the cook to prepare a special meal and we will open a cask of that Mirkwood wine you so favour." Elrond gave his advisor a wink.
Erestor arched an eyebrow at his Lord. "Was that not the same vintage that was served the night you..."
"Not another word, Erestor," Elrond gave a warning cough. "Glorfindel and Haldir are trouble enough for one night, do you not add to the mayhem." A chuckle from Glorfindel earned a glare from Elrond. "That goes double for you, seneschal."
"Oh, Elbereth, I remember that night only too well. Erestor was..." Glorfindel could not finish for he was laughing too hard.
"No, Glorfindel!" Elrond's face was flushed. Erestor, Haldir, and Lindir were trying their best to stem their laughter, all remembering the night that Lord Elrond had imbibed a bit too much of that particular vintage.
Elrohir and Elladan were staring at the Elda in confusion, wondering why their Adar (5) was so upset while the others could not contain their mirth. No one was planning on enlightening them. A tale such as that would have to wait until the twins were much older. Erestor, trying his best to bring his emotions under control, thought back to what, at the time, was one of the most embarrassing moments in his service to Lord Elrond. Yes, it had been quite a night!
It happened some years ago, when Lord Celeborn and a group of Lórien nobles arrived for a visit. As was custom, Elrond had thrown a reception in their honour. Celebrían was not present. She was in Lothlórien visiting her mother and in fact, had been there for some time. Ever since the birth of the twins, the passion between her and Elrond had waned. For the sake of decorum, they shared the same chamber but not the same bed. Her trips to the Golden Woods had become more frequent and of a longer duration each time. Elrond missed his gentle wife. His nights were lonely and he did not sleep well. If it were not for the fact that Lord Celeborn was his father-in-law, he would have found an excuse to be absent from the night's celebration.
But it was not to be. Dressed in robes of state, Imladris' Lord graciously greeted each guest as they entered the brilliantly-lit hall. Once the receiving line courtesies were ended, Elrond found himself cornered by Lord Celeborn, who began a long, boring recital of a strategic battle plan from the War of the Last Alliance. Try as he might, Elrond could not interject a word edgewise, nor find an opportunity to make an excuse to leave. When the Lórien lord did stop for a breath, it was to signal a servant to refill their glasses, forcing Elrond to match him in drink. Celeborn had no problem downing such a vast quantity of alcohol in such a short period of time, but soon Elrond passed his limit. The party dragged on, until most of the guests took their leave and retired to their rooms.
Others, however, including a slightly tipsy Lord Elrond and a more sedate Lord Celeborn, retired to the Hall of Fire, where a particularly lovely ballad was being sung by Lindir. Elrond, in his bid to get away from his father-in-law, took a seat next to Erestor, relieved to be free of the monologue on the battles of the Second Age.
Although feeling somewhat dizzy, Lord Elrond thought it too early to retire to his chambers. Lindir had a beautiful, soothing voice, and as he listened to it, Elrond's eyes began to close. He jumped as he felt a nudge to his side. He opened his eyes and in his somewhat drunken state, found something from which he could not tear himself away. He was suddenly very aware of the one sitting next to him on the bench.
Why had he never noticed the beauty of Erestor? When had his Chief Advisor become so enticing? Elrond stared in blurry fascination at Erestor. Silky black hair framed an exotically oval face with liquid brown eyes and long, dark lashes. Erestor's skin was golden in the light from the fire accentuating his high cheekbones and rosy, red lips. Luscious lips, lips that begged to be kissed.
"Mm..." Elrond leaned closer to Erestor and began to run his fingers through Erestor's hair which was unbound and careened halfway down the lovely Noldo's back. Elrond sighed with delight. Erestor, suddenly aware of his employer's intentions, sat stiff as a board.
Unfortunately, the effects of the alcohol in Elrond's system were such that he soon lost all trace of sensibility. Certain hormones in his body began to work overtime. To him, Erestor looked a tasty treat and he just could not resist. Imladris' Lord began to whisper words of endearment into the ear of his extremely sober advisor, much to Erestor's consternation and extreme embarrassment. At least Elrond thought he whispered.
The more his body reacted to the presence, in his alcohol soaked mind, of the luscious tidbit sitting beside him, the louder and more passionate his declarations of love became. Poor Erestor could do nothing without attracting attention their way. What was worse, Erestor's body began to react to the lewd suggestions pouring into his sensitive ear. When one of Elrond's hands moved to the buttons on Erestor's robe and the other slipped under the heavy garment to the waistband of his leggings, Erestor panicked. Elrond stopped speaking words of endearment and began to alternate between frantic pants and animal growls. The volume of his voice increased to such a level, that a horrified Lindir had to raise his own to drown out that of his lord's. Erestor knew he had to act, fast!
As nonchalantly as he could, he grasped Elrond's roving hands and tried to force him into a more respectable position. That was a major mistake, for the highly inebriated elf began to tell Erestor in no uncertain terms just how lovely he was and how desperately he wanted him. The more Erestor tried to quiet his over eager lover, the louder and more aggressive Elrond became. Lindir, aware of the struggle between the two, became so flustered he stopped singing. The resulting quiet brought Elrond's lustful cries to a larger portion of the audience, who was now aware of his actions and trying hard not to show it.
Erestor was brick red by the time Lords Glorfindel and Celeborn took pity on the two. With Erestor's help, they managed to escort the totally soused Lord of Imladris to his quarters. The walls of the Hall of Fire echoed with laughter the moment they exited the room.
It was a sober and chagrined Lord Elrond who apologized to Erestor, Lord Celeborn, and the rest of his guests the next morning. And of course, it was an incident he would never be allowed to forget! But, he would be damned if it was going to be dredged up at the dinner table in front of his innocent children! "Glorfindel!"
"Yes, my lord," the seneschal said, a twinkle in his bright blue eyes.
"Draw a name!" Elrond commanded.
Glorfindel reached into the bowl and made a production of picking out a piece of folded parchment. He unfolded the paper an inch before his eyes and looked at everyone at the table. "I drew my own name," he said with a grin. "Does that mean I have to give myself a present?"
Haldir groaned. "Pick another name, Orc breath, we are tired of waiting." Glorfindel swirled the folded tabs around in the bowl and finally made his second pick. Peering at it, he broke into a smile and to everyone's relief, stated he was happy with his choice.
"Your turn, Oh Valiant Lord of Imladris," Glorfindel said in a slurred voice, passing the bowl to Elrond. Elrond gave him an exasperated look then reached into the bowl to make his own selection. Satisfied that he had not chosen his own name, he passed the bowl to Haldir.
After all present had a chance to draw from the bowl, Lord Elrond declared dinner officially over and not too soon, judging the condition of Glorfindel and the Marchwarden. He would have a talk with his seneschal in the morning. "Not that it would do any good," he thought sadly. With that, he headed off to his chambers for a good night's rest.
Lindir had taken his time opening his folded parchment. He had not liked the idea of choosing names in the first place. Please let it be one of the children, he prayed. Elladan and Elrohir would be the easiest to choose a gift for. With bated breath he read the name that Elrond had written:

Oh no, not Glorfindel! What was he going to do? Glorfindel was the one person at the table whose name Lindir truly had not wanted to choose. What did one give a legend? What did one give the person who meant more to him than anything? What could he ever hope to find that was perfect enough for such a flawless elf? Nothing that Lindir could think of would be good enough for the vision of beauty that was Glorfindel.

For Lindir had been in love with the warrior since the first day he saw him. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone. What could the fabled Vanya, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower of fair Gondolin and renowned ancient warrior see in an elf like Lindir? Glorfindel was a hero, the subject of myriad ballads and songs. He died fighting a Balrog during the fall of Gondolin, saving Tuor, Idril, their son Eärendil and many others. After his death he spent an eternity in The Halls of Mandos, but the Valar looked kindly upon the golden Elf who had sacrificed so much for his beloved people. In reward for his valiant deed, they granted him new life. He was re-embodied and allowed a second childhood in Valinor.
It was there he was befriended by the Maiar, specifically Olórin, and he became almost like them, gaining powers that no elf ever had. But unlike most that were reborn, he did not spend the rest of his days in the Blessed Realm, for the Valar returned the warrior to Middle-earth, where he was to distinguish himself once again. Lindir's secret love vanquished the witch king and fought at Gil-galad's side in The War of the Last Alliance. Those who saw him fight claimed he was one of the greatest warriors of all time. But Glorfindel claimed no honours, faulting himself for failing to prevent the death of the High Elven King. Bound by an oath to protect the line of Eärendil, he remained in service to Lord Elrond as seneschal, commander of all Imladris forces, Second-in-command of the realm.
Lindir sighed. To him, the elf was unapproachable. What could Glorfindel ever have in common with a lowly elf like Lindir, one minstrel in a house of many? Not only that, Glorfindel was Lindir's commanding officer. For Lindir also served part-time duty as a guardian of the border. And what was worse, was that Lord Glorfindel had not wanted Lindir under his command. Lindir had to beg Lord Elrond to be allowed to enter training.
Once Lindir had proven his ability with the sword, bow, and knife, Lord Glorfindel still had to be persuaded by Lord Elrond to accept Lindir into the ranks. The ancient warrior did not see a need for a guardian who would only serve part-time.
Part-time, there it was again. Lindir was also part-time assistant to Lord Erestor. Lord Elrond's chief advisor was more than capable of running the household without his help. Lord Elrond had created Lindir's position only because Lindir had too much free time.
Lindir sighed. He was indebted to Lord Elrond, for the kindly elf had taken him in when he had nowhere else to go. Lindir wished he could do more for his lord, but he had no other skills. Lord Elrond simply put Lindir where he would do the least harm. Everyone tolerated Lindir and helped him out of pity, just as Lord Glorfindel had tried to include Lindir in the group at the table tonight.
Lindir did not normally take his meals in the dining hall. As a guardian, he ate in the barracks. But Lindir did not feel right doing so if he was not on duty. The first time Erestor caught Lindir eating in the kitchen, he insisted that Lindir dine at Lord Elrond's table. So a precedent was set, and every time Lindir finished his month long patrol, he was forced to wear formal robes and sit at Elrond's table, pretending to be part of the noble circle that revolved around his lord. But he knew his true place.
He was an orphan, abandoned at an early age when his parents were killed. He had been found in the woods and taken to Imladris where Lord Elrond gave him haven. His true heritage (6) was not discovered until later, when Lord Gildor Inglorion visited Imladris and recognized Lindir's resemblance to his sister. No one believed Lindir could be his long lost nephew, until Gildor pointed out Lindir's odd-shaped birthmark, a mark of the kin of his house. Lord Gildor was saddened to learn of the fate of his sister and her husband, but welcomed Lindir with open arms.
But Lindir thought of Imladris as his home. He did not have the wanderlust that called to his parents and Lord Gildor, and he expressed his wish to stay in Imladris. Lord Gildor accepted his decision with grace, but wished Lindir to be publicly acclaimed as his nephew, to hold the title of Lord. Deciding he was not worthy of such an honoured position, Lindir refuted his claim to the title, greatly disappointing his Uncle. And so Lord Gildor left without Lindir, asking only that Lord Elrond teach him the history of his people.
Lindir was greatly relieved. He never mentioned his heritage again. Though through birth he had noble blood, he did not feel noble. He had not fought in the great wars like Lords Glorfindel, Elrond, and Erestor. Neither did he have the grace, the refinement, nor the beauty of the Eldar. He envied them and yearned to be like them. And now, Lindir had to find a gift for the one elf that mattered most to him in all of Middle-earth. And Lindir knew that no matter how hard he tried, Glorfindel would be disappointed.
Why did this have to happen? Why did Haldir have to tell that story? Why did he have to draw Glorfindel's name? And, so it began, the gnawing pain in the pit of his stomach, the growing anxiety and endless, sleepless nights.

Notes:
1. Ada - Dad
2. Iaurnaneth - Grandmother - (not attested)
3. Iauradar - Grandfather - (not attested)
4. pen-velui - lovely one
5. adar - Father
6. Lindir's heritage as mentioned in my story is not canon, for Tolkien reveals little about the elf. Instead, my Lindir is based on Soledad's lovely story, "Innocence", especially his relationship with Gildor Inglorion.
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The Gift