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From Broken Endings to New Beginnings	By : Argleena Category: -Multi-Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 747 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The following work is based on the fantasy world and characters created by J.R.R. Tolkien and I do not own them or profit from this piece of work. Original Characters are my own and marked as such (OMC, OFC).

Chapter List
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What is causing Lindir to become ill? Will Lindir continue to hide secrets?
Early Third Age, 001-109
Imladris
Lindir flourished in his new home of Imladris. While there were times of sorrow and bouts of longing that would occasionally overcome the young one, there were more and more smiles and good days as time moved on. Lindir had initially fretted about where he would fit in in Imladris, but he had no reason to worry. The people of Imladris accepted him immediately as Lindir’s kind soul and soothing songs help heal and quiet many elves’ grief and sorrow after the war. Lindir quickly became involved with the minstrels and the music and theater department, often performing evenings in the Hall of Fire. He also stayed on as a part time personal assistant and scribe to Erestor and Lord Elrond as needed. He continued sparring and training with Glorfindel when both their time allowed and he visited the healing halls at least once a day in order to try and raise the spirit of those who were injured or feeling down both through visiting or through his music. He soon became a permanent fixture in Imladris. You’d be hard pressed to find any that would want to give him up to another realm, even just for a temporary traveling performance. He was their sweet minstrel, beloved by all who met him, as well as confidant to the Lord’s Chief Councillor.
Erestor treasured his friendship with Lindir. Unfortunately, due to his position and rank in Imladris, Erestor often had to make decisions that were not popular with everyone. He was also in charge of enforcing that all played their appointed roles in their budding valley appropriately. His brisk, aloof and efficient manner could be off-putting at times, and he held no enjoyment or time for idle chatter, gossip, or foolish elves. In Lindir, he found a close friend and confidant. Someone he could go to for discussions and advice, but also one he could just sit quietly with. While he loved Glorfindel, even the ancient Lord’s impudent manners, to the stars above, sometimes he just felt that Lindir understood his more scholarly interests better than Glorfindel. Plus, it was always nice to have someone to lend an ear when he got into a spat or annoyed with his lover, as naturally happens with partners of many years. Glorfindel and Elrond strongly approved of this budding friendship. They often worried for Erestor, always working and rarely socializing outside their small group. They also saw this friendship did Lindir a world of good. He was strong and healthy and all signs of fading were far in the past.
Unlike Erestor, who preferred to keep friendly company with a scant few trusted elves, Lindir bloomed while in Imladris and could often be spotted having a conversation with anyone from a stable hand, to administrators, to the cook’s children. He was certainly loved by all, and in time came to care greatly for all those in the small valley that surrounded them. All and all, things were going smoothly, except for an incident that occurred in the year 87 of the third age.
That particular year was a busy one. Erestor and Lindir spent many late nights in Elrond’s office, discussing the foreboding feelings and visions that Elrond had been increasingly experiencing over the past few years. He felt a whisper of warning on the wind, speaking of danger and evil yet to come. Elrond felt it was increasingly more important than ever to once again unite the realms of elves and men, to form a resistance to this growing unease. Unfortunately, many of the Elvish realms and outlying villages had grown complacent and suspicious of outsiders, especially the Greenwood, who still seemed to hold a grudge about that fateful battle at Dagorlad so long ago. Elrond and Erestor would work hard to have their counselors and diplomats reach out and form bonds with the other realms across middle earth in order to strengthen themselves against a common enemy.
One early spring morning, Erestor strode briskly into his office, his hands full with correspondence that had come in with the morning courier. He glanced briefly at Lindir and acknowledged him with a nod of his head. Tossing aside most of the pile, Erestor kept one in hand that bore the broken seal of Greenwood. He was re-reading the joyful announcement, deciding what needed to be done in response to it as their relationship with the Greenwood was a precarious one.
“Lindir, I have a special assignment for you,” Erestor said, still glancing over the correspondence. “I have just received joyous news from the Woodland realm and I trust only you to assist me with providing a diplomatic response that will help strengthen our ties with the Woodland Realm. Certainly if I give this to Melpomaen he will make some… silly… irritable…” Erestor’s voice seemed to fade away in Lindir’s ears as he rambled on about the new assignment.
Erestor did not notice Lindir’s white knuckles and crushing grip on the arms of his wooden chair at the mention of the Woodland realm. Lindir began to feel simultaneously feverish and freezing cold deep inside, with small droplets of sweat making their way down his brow and the back of his neck. His hands were clammy and locked onto his chair while his stomach felt as if it were making attempts to tie itself into knots. He struggled to force himself to keep his composure. Erestor’s voice came back into focus only to deliver a much more disastrous blow.
“It seems that the King had taken a wife in the noble lady Erdolliel Nostariel soon after he returned from the war. She bore them a son one month thence. The new prince is called Legolas. We should prepare…,” Erestor’s head shot up from the letter he was reading aloud as he heard a loud gasp, only to see Lindir doubled over, clutching at his breast and stomach. The delicate elf appeared pale, was shivering and sweating profusely.
The more that Erestor had read, the worse Lindir had felt. A stabbing pain sliced through his chest, causing him to gasp for air, finally gaining Erestor’s attention and stopping the blows the letter kept delivering the further Erestor read. Erestor rushed to his side and began examining the incapacitated Lindir for injury, questioning him as to what was the matter. His usual steadfast voice was shaking in fear for his friend, who had so suddenly deteriorated with no seeming cause.
Lindir’s mind was whirling and he was beginning to panic. How would he explain this to Erestor and no doubt Lord Erestor when Erestor undoubtedly would send for him. He swallowed back a bout of nausea and attempted to stand to go to the washroom to try and clear his mind. With his head whirling with emotion he collapsed back into his chair after dizzily standing up. It was all too much. The edges of his vision began to go black and he heard Erestor’s voice calling his name and then calling for Elrond, though it sounded like it was from a great distance away, at the end of a tunnel. It was then when Lindir’s consciousness gave out and he allowed the comforting darkness to swallow him.
The next thing Lindir was aware of was being in the healing halls, several people surrounding him, calling his name and coming fully awake after someone, most likely Elrond, placed some smelling salts under his nose. With a deep gulp of air, as if coming up from underwater, Lindir opened his eyes. He was quickly sucked back into painful reality from the comforting darkness, much of his distress returning. Elrond began methodically examining him, having gone into healer mode, asking question after question. While it wasn’t unheard of for an elf to fall ill, it was not very common. Elves possessed an enhanced immune system and healing capabilities that made them far less prone to falling for the illnesses of men. Still, elves weren’t completely immune, and Elrond was doing his best to figure out what was ailing his friend.
Lindir’s mind was reeling. What was he to do? What was he to say? His stomach clenched in another gripping knot and Lindir flew up into a sitting position, pushing Elrond’s hands off of his body, grabbing for the basin beside the bed. He vomited, over and over again, emptying his stomach until nothing remained of this morning's meal. Lindir’s mind still raced to come up with an excuse for this sudden sweep of illness. Suddenly the solution sprung to mind. He lay back down upon the bed and groaned at the pounding in his head and the throbbing in his chest.
“I think it was the fish I ate for dinner last night,” Lindir whispered, weak from this whole ordeal. “I had my dinner delivered last night, however, postponed eating it for some time as I was focused upon completing the emergency provision reports for the newly established patrol groups leaving today. When I did get to eat, I thought the fish tasted a bit strange, but it was edible. Now just thinking about that fish makes me feel ill again,” Lindir moaned, rolling over to his side. It wasn’t entirely a lie. He really didn’t feel well, and thinking of the fish did make him feel nauseous.
As this was going on, an irritable Erestor shot Glorfindel a deathly glare. Usually the captain could not be intimidated by the dark elf, however, at this moment he felt a great guilt, and his head hung low. Those reports that Lindir had been completing until late last night, they had technically been Glorfindel’s responsibility, but after a long and exhausting day on the training field, Lindir offered to take over the reports Glorfindel had already delayed completing for several days. This is just the way Lindir was, always looking to help others, even at the expense of his own time and health. Erestor had a different opinion of his partner shrugging off his reports onto others. He had fallen party to this sham too many times to remember. Glorfindel simply despised the administrative aspect to his duties.
“Now, now,” Elrond soothed. He could feel the tension in the room building between Glorfindel and Erestor and could tell Lindir was beginning to fret, probably blaming himself. Let us let Lindir have some peace and rest. You will all return back to your duties and I will provide Lindir with a tea to soothe his stomach and allow for a restorative sleep. In the meantime, he could use the peace and quiet… alone ,” Elrond emphasized when Erestor acted as if he were going to argue to stay and observe his friend some more. Soon the room was empty, except for Elrond and Lindir. Elrond made a tea for Lindir to help alleviate his symptoms and then tucked Lindir in to rest. As soon as Elrond left the room, the tears that Lindir so valiantly tried to hold back streamed down his face. Lindir rested fitfully in the healing room for the remainder of the day, becoming sick twice more when his emotions overwhelmed. Finally, he entered a healing sleep late into the evening, sleeping through the night. The next day he had many visitors, trying to cheer him up, including Erestor, Glorfindel and Elrond. It took most of his energy out of him to put in a facade that he was beginning to feel better, when really, old and long buried emotions threatened to pull him down again.
Lindir strove valiantly to lock his grievous memories away and get back into the swing of things. Day by day things became more normal again, and after two weeks, he felt like he was pretty much back to himself. Elrond and Erestor were like mother hens watching over him. Even for a man, who didn’t have Elvish healing capabilities, two weeks was an extraordinary amount of time to fully recover from, “food poisoning.” An elf should have been all better in a day or two. They kept a sharp eye on Lindir, hoping to avoid a relapse or further complications. Glorfindel was his saving grace during this time, often sneaking him snacks and reading material and even sneaking him out from time to time for walks in the garden. He knew what it felt like to be cooped up from injury. The best part about being with Glorfindel at that time was that the golden warrior did not endlessly press to discuss what was wrong with him or constantly ask how he was feeling. He simply made jovial conversation with the minstrel, which did much to take his mind off the true problem and diminish the ache inside his chest.
As for the letter Erestor had wanted Lindir to craft for the Greenwood, he placed Saelbeth in charge of communications with that realm instead, which worked well as he had distant relatives residing there. By the time Lindir was healed and back to work, Saelbeth had crafted a congratulatory response and taken over as diplomat to the Greenwood affairs.
Life continued on much as it always had. For the next twenty years Lindir worked hard to tamp down on all the upsetting emotions swirling inside at times and focus on the blessings he had in life, such as his recent promotion to head minstrel and his many and varied friends who brought joy to his life. Despite the stalwart attempts of many in Imladris and from visitors to the realm, Lindir took no lover and seemed to hold no interest in bonding or love. This didn’t seem of concern to many. Elves were immortal beings who often remained celibate for centuries. And after all it had taken several millennia for Erestor and Glorfindel to find their true love in each other and cultivate it into what it is today. Lindir was only 867, just a babe compared to some elves. Erestor certainly was not going to rush him. He, in fact, would often assist Lindir in ridding of or avoiding unwanted suitors such as the handsy archer from Lothlórien who followed him around for a full week.
Erestor recalled one other time Lindir particularly was fed up with his suitors. It occurred during a time when they had groups of warriors from Lothlórien and the Greenwood visiting for a warrior exchange program. Lindir was particularly apprehensive about any suitors. He burst into Erestor’s office shortly after their arrival and begged Erestor to keep his whereabouts secret, and assisting in finding imaginative places for the next two weeks for him to work from. After his performances in the Hall of Fire at night during those weeks he would hurry off stage and disappear so that none could find him. While Erestor thought this slightly strange and extreme behavior, he just put it up to Lindir avoiding a particularly overly enthusiastic suitor. If one looked closely enough at Lindir, however, they could see a lingering sadness and fatigue creeping back into his eyes during this time.
Despite this minor setback, and a few other (brief) instances where Lindir would grow especially melancholy, withdrawn, or distant, he really was flourishing in the hidden valley. Alas, as it is in any great story, that peace never lasts forever. In the summer of the Third Age 109, everything would change for Lindir. Out of nowhere, his peace filled world would soon come crashing down.

Names
Erdolliel Nostariel- dark one born of nobility
Saelbeth- name meaning wise one
Melpomaen- name meaning fig and clever/skilled, Figwit
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From Broken Endings to New Beginnings