Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Beautiful Dreamer	By : narcolinde Category: +Third Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 4288 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, its characters, or its plot and settings. No money is earned from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Beautiful Dreamer
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Chapter 5
- 6-Six
- 7-Part Seven
- 8-Epilogue
- 3
- 4
- 5
Part Four: Whether Shall I Wander

Elrond knelt beside Legolas, unsure of what to say, his usual stock of wise and consoling phrases inadequate, his glib and ready tongue cleaving to his palate as he fought the need to retch. He must give him something, some means of coping with this situation, so bizarre and frightening it had to be for the young archer, but Elrond did not even know whether he was crouched beside Thranduil's son or the sharp-sighted guide to the refugees from Gondolin. He had little time to ponder the enigma as there arose from without a violent confrontation of voices arguing and then a hand tried the door.

When it didn't budge, the latch was yanked and rattled impatiently and then the ponderous thud of a fist striking wood announced the ominous presence of a most determined petitioner.
"Open this door!" Glorfindel's deep voice boomed out, fraught with both rage and anxious dread. "Elrond, open I say! What are you doing to him? Legolas, can you hear me?" The hammering began anew and with more zealous effort, drowning out Faelon's pleas to cease and desist.

Elrond leaped up and raced for the portal but just as he reached it a fierce shout preceded a savage kick and the bolt ripped through the jam. The door flew wide, missing his face by centimetres and slamming into the wall with enough force to bounce off and slap against the Balrog-slayer's deflecting hand as he exploded into the room. The Lord of Imladris stood in stunned disbelief, eyes wide as they measured the probability of his certain doom at the hands of his loyal master-at-arms, that worthy Vanyarin Elda transformed into the very incarnation of righteous wrath, a murderous fire raging through his soul. Elrond thoroughly understood how the Balrog must have felt.

"Where is he? What have you done?" bellowed Glorfindel, glaring into the astonished face of his Lord. Then he pushed past him and stood scanning the room, frantically searching for the young archer. "Legolas? Can you hear me? Speak!"

"Glorfindel, this is inexcusable!" snapped Elrond, recalling he was the ruler of Imladris and planting himself back in the path of the frantic ellon. "Legolas is not in danger here. Please leave; we will speak of this unwarranted and barbaric intrusion later." Elrond was sure Legolas did not want any more witnesses to his current state of wretchedness, especially Glorfindel. He was thus surprised when a faint voice answered the ancient warrior.

"I hear you," Legolas said. "There is no need for alarm."

Both the Lord of the Golden Flower and the Lord of Imladris turned to see him standing pale and trembling, supporting himself against the armchair, making futile efforts to right his appearance. He attempted a wry smile. "I seem to have overindulged and my stomach rebelled. Lord Elrond is aiding me."

"Truly?" queried Glorfindel softly, taking a step closer, the simple word reverberating with the conviction to act at once if there was need, regardless his fealty to the House of Eärendil. His heart made a painful jolting jump as he scrutinised the archer; Legolas looked terrible and it had to be more than excessive drink that ailed him. "You called my name."

"Did I?" This surprised Legolas and his healer; they shared wide-eyed looks as he answered. "I was not aware of it. Forgive me for causing you such needless worry." He made an effort to bow but had to right himself quickly before he collapsed. That set his upset stomach to churning anew and his face took on the cast of spoiled milk. Frantic eyes flew to Elrond's as his lips and jaw clamped together tighter than a vise.

"Through there," Elrond pointed to an open arch and Legolas ran stumbling through it. Ere long, the muffled sound of fresh heaves punctuated the tense atmosphere. Elrond set a firm hand on Glorfindel's chest as the ancient soldier made to follow. "Nay, mellon, you know he does not want you to go in there and witness this. You have embarrassed him enough for one day."

"I?" Glorfindel was taken aback. "What have I done? He called for me; I mean only to ensure he is all right."

"He is not all right, as you have seen, but neither is his life in danger here. As to what you've done, we'll be discussing that in depth as soon as I am satisfied he will recover sufficiently to rest for a time."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Glorfindel, indignant, and drew his frame up tall and proud. "I have done nothing to harass Thranduilion. How dare you imply I…"

"Daro!" commanded Elrond, angry on his patient's behalf, remembering Erestor's words. "I don't know yet exactly what has happened to Legolas, Glorfindel, but I know you're involved in this so don't deny it."

"I do deny it," Glorfindel stated gravely. "I swear on the oath I gave to Manwë ere I left the Blessed Realm: I have no wish to harm Legolas."
"Then even greater need is there for us to understand what is happening," replied Elrond, still doubtful though he had never known the noble warrior to lie. "Yet, this is not the time and I am sure you understand Legolas is in no condition to endure such a discussion. Please, mellon, if you would aid him, then go." Elrond tugged on a thickly muscled arm, relieved to feel the dangerous mood relenting as the fire banked in the Balrog-slayer's beryl eyes.

"Very well," grumbled Glorfindel, permitting himself to be turned round and herded to the door. He looked back to the open arch anxiously for all was quiet in the interior rooms. "You are sure he will be all right?"

"No, I am not, but I will do all in my power to help him." Elrond promised, unable to offer better consolation than this. He surveyed the worried countenance trained upon him; Glorfindel certainly did not appear to be hiding anything sinister. His distress was quite genuine and his concern for Legolas sincere. Why, the elven Lord wondered, had he gone secretly to Greenwood if not to seek out the namesake of his former lover?

"Does he share your view that I am the cause of this distress?" the Balrog-slayer asked suddenly, halting and peering in horror at Elrond. "I beg you, assure him it is not true."

"I don't know what he thinks because you broke down my door in the middle of a very delicate yet demanding procedure," Elrond pointed out tersely, "but I don't believe he holds you to blame for it, whatever it is." He sighed. "Glorfindel, go and let me see what can be done to resolve this dilemma."

"Aye, you know best; you are the healer." He took two more steps before he balked again. "Perhaps I should wait in the anteroom in case he calls for me again. Ai, Elrond, there was such despair in his voice!"

"Mellon, I understand your concern, but you heard him say he was not even aware of crying out and this I attest is true, for neither did I hear him do so."

"Aye," Glorfindel nodded but clearly was not content.
They reached the door and he was passed through into the cloud of scowling censure surrounding Faelon who waited, hands on hips, to escort him from the office. The fearsome warrior looked appropriately contrite and sheepish, seeing the splintered door frame and the secretary's disapproving frown.

"I told you to wait," scolded Faelon.

"Aye, you were right," apologised Glorfindel, exiting the office and pulling the door shut behind him, tendering his Lord a penitent shrug as it failed to latch and drifted ajar.

Elrond shook his head and poked at the battered frame, picking away a long sliver of wood. It was certainly proving to be a most unusual day. A slight sound behind made him turn and there stood Legolas, half revealed in the arch, looking less like a shade escaped from Mandos but shaken and confused nonetheless. He had made an effort to clean himself up a bit, his hair damp where he'd rinsed away vomit and the soiled tunic left behind. The sour odour still clung to him and permeated the room, enhanced by the vile puddle soaking into the rug.

"He has gone," assured Elrond, motioning Legolas into the office. "Come; we need to find a more suitable place and you could use a bath. Let us escape through the side door."

"Aye, thank you," mumbled Legolas, passing the armchairs and their disordered state with his head down. He lifted sorrowful eyes to Elrond. "I am sorry about the crystals," he said. "I don't suppose they can be repaired."

"No matter; I have another set," smiled Elrond, no longer in doubt that he had Legolas of Greenwood in his office.

There was no distress in the prince's eyes beyond that which such total loss of composure in front of his elders would normally induce and the lore-master was glad he did not remember the degrading history revealed through the trance. At least the properties of the spell had held true in that regard, though the manner in which Legolas of Gondolin had managed to seize control was unprecedented in Elrond's experience. Then again, he'd never treated a re-born elf trying to recapture a past life-time and meld it to the current one.

Elrond's features betrayed his own confusion and discontent with what he'd witnessed. Was Thranduil's son truly Legolas of the House of the Tree reborn? Thus it seemed, else whence came those memories, yet if so Námo had released him too soon, in the healer's opinion. Still, he had a patient to tend and Legolas Thranduilion was a mass of nervous strain and fatigue, adrift on the shifting tides of hormonal surges common to elves his age. There was another inconsistency and Elrond decided to resolve it immediately.

"What is your age, Legolas?"

"I am one hundred twenty five, Hîren," he replied calmly but even this simple statement made colour rise to his cheeks. He sent a distinctly bitter look Elrond's way. "I know; it is far past the age when most ellyn reach maturity," he added defensively. "Everyone was wondering if I would ever get to this point. Many thought I would remain a child forever and I was more relieved than you can know when the changes finally started. I am not so excited about it just now, however."

"Legolas, the onset of puberty does not occur at an age defined by some sort of law. Everyone is unique and you need not apologise to me, or to yourself, for your specific natural development," Elrond counselled, taking a firm grip of the archer's arm and leading him toward the door. He was intrigued in spite of the dire condition of his patient's emotions, for every time they spoke the case became more convoluted and more questions arose. Was it possible Legolas had subconsciously suppressed his own maturation due to the horror of what had happened to him in his previous life?

"Ai Elbereth, he was so determined to get in," Legolas remarked, for they had reached the evidence of Glorfindel's rash and violent entry. Now the prince sought the healer's eyes with such a shy and fearfully hopeful expression that Elrond's heart wrenched to see it. "He was coming to my aid?"

"Aye, he was," Elrond watched Legolas carefully but there was no sign of that hardened warrior he'd briefly glimpsed here now. There was also no longer a suffocating cloud of sexual desire, neither round Legolas nor himself. "How do you feel about that, pen neth?"

"Ai! Glorfindel is bold and fair, Hîren, but what of our bond?" The scarlet flush suffusing the comely face was endearing, joined as it was by such a winsome smile and shining eyes. Here was at last an understated shred of ego, just a sprout of pride, and Legolas stood straighter, pleased to have caught the interest of two such renowned Lords.

"Legolas, you and I are not tied by any bond such as you mean. The trust of healer and patient we do share and I am glad for it, but I think you can acknowledge that the physical attraction has dulled a bit." Elrond held his mirth in check as he watched disappointment and relief war for control of Legolas' features.

"So we will not be lovers?" asked the relieved youth and then: "Mayhap it is not a thing to decide right now," the disappointed suitor added.

"A wise evaluation," Elrond grinned broadly, liking this Wood Elf more and more. "Let us deal with the immediate problems first and as I said before, once that is done you may explore your desires freely. If it becomes clear that I am the one you want for your first partner, then know that I will not refuse you unless I deem it would harm your well-being."

"That is fair," Legolas tried on an attitude of experienced, debonair gallantry and was pleased when Elrond affirmed it.

"Fair, indeed," he offered, letting his eye roam freely for just the right amount of time and then opening the door, bowing Legolas through it.

He led them away from the house and Legolas' heart sank, thinking they were heading back to the House of Healing. Must everyone know he was ill? He was sure the entire household was talking about his mishap at dawn and he would have to endure a lot of stares at the evening meal along with a slew of jokes about the novelty of using tea as a means of enticement. Suddenly the idea of being confined to the infirmary was not so unpalatable. Yet Elrond again took his arm and guided him a different way and in time they came upon a quaint and delicate gate, the entry into a fair maze, though at first it did not register as one. No high hedges or thorny shrubs defined it; instead tangled vines of intertwining jasmine and honeysuckle trained over trellises and arbours delimited the space.

It was a maze in design but not construction, Legolas soon realised, and thought it a strange idea for in places the walls vanished, allowing glimpses into the false turns and dead ends. These were transformed into little garden spots, some with fountains, others with shallow stone birdbaths, most with only a simple bench. For all that it was open, Legolas could not deny he felt potent energy round the place and longed to stop and sit a while, each nook more inviting than the last, so that he was disappointed as they progressed.

"My wife's invention," explained Elrond, knowing the effect the unusual structure had upon visitors. "She desired a secluded spot yet hated the idea of forbidding walls of stone or impenetrable yew. She liked even less the notion of making someone so confused as to lose their way while trying to locate her secret lair. So she added a touch of her particular magic to it, deciding that it was better to prevent visitors from disturbing her by encouraging their natural desire to sit and enjoy the beauty here."

"Aye, I was getting most perturbed because you failed to stop at three cul de sacs where there are flowers I have not seen before," laughed Legolas, grinning. "I think it is a wonderfully courteous kind of magic. Much better than a stream that puts one to sleep and robs one of memories."

"Oh, indeed, yet here there is no need for stronger measures as there surely is in Greenwood," smiled Elrond, pleased to hear his guest more relaxed and at ease. "We will go to the centre, for that is really something unique. I believe you will be able to sleep undisturbed by dreams of any kind within."

"I pray you are right," nodded Legolas fervently. "I have never felt so unquiet and uneasy in my own skin. Is it this way for everyone?"

"No, not quite so severe as your troubles with it," he admitted, stopping to address the question fully. "For most it is exciting and a bit frightening but the burden of that fear is created by mild doubts and insecurities about one's allure. The dreams you are experiencing are not common, though sexual dreams are expected during this phase of maturation."

"You said as much before. Was the spell ineffective? I came out of it in great turmoil, ill and frightened. Can you tell me nothing?"

"I don't want to mislead you, Legolas, and neither do I want to form a judgement too quickly. There is much I need to consider before I can decide how best to proceed."

"But what happened?" Legolas implored, shooting a furtive gaze at Elrond and then away, brow furrowed and hands fidgeting as if he very much wished he had his bow to hold. "It had to be terrible; I revived under a sense of utter despair and a grief so profound I cannot bear to think about it."

"You did indeed," Elrond nodded. The last thing to happen was Glorfindel's death and given Legolas' of Gondolin's feelings for him he would expect nothing less. "That has left you now," he remarked, glad that it was so.

"But what does it mean? Did you learn the cause for my problem?" Legolas pushed for answers.

"I don't know," Elrond replied honestly. "The revelations were unexpected and I've not had the chance to consider their implications. I know you are worried and I do not mean to keep you in doubt. Truthfully, I must seek additional knowledge before attempting to interpret what I saw. Just let it go for now, Legolas," suggested Elrond, setting a comforting hand on the ellon's shoulder and through it coursed the healing power of Vilya to dispel Legolas' fears. "What I want is for you to refresh yourself and take a much needed rest. Here, see if this is not the perfect place for both." So saying he ushered his patient around the last barrier and into the centre of the maze.

Legolas inhaled and released a sigh of wonder and delight; never had he seen a place so serene and inviting at the same time. It was a garden proper with beds of many kinds of herbs and sweetly scented flowers, but at its exact midpoint was a bright, sparkling pool. The pond was artificial, a simple oval delved into the ground and then lined with tiles. A fountain at one end made the water dance and kept it fresh while adding the bubbly music of a tamed cascade. Skirting it was a rim paved with more tiles and set about with chairs and tables and benches of cedar. The sunlight bathed the spot with warmth and light that was not too harsh, thanks to a broad arbour shielding part of the pool. To one side there was a gazebo hung with gauzy curtains, a place to discard clothing and take up various oils and soaps and salts available therein.

"How beautiful," said Legolas, walking to the pool and crouching to dip his fingers in the water. "It is cool but not cold, warm but not hot. This is an amazing garden!" he enthused, looking back to Elrond, who stood smiling proudly and enjoying his guest's response.

"I thought you would appreciate it," he replied. "Here you will bathe and then rest there on that bench, the one already made up with downy pillows. There is a cotton robe, light and fresh, to don should you feel the need, though none shall disturb you here." He chuckled at Legolas' astounded expression.

"Did you plan to take me here before?" he asked.

"I thought about it," Elrond shrugged, choosing not to react to the suggestive verb Legolas used, "but had not yet decided. Now I think my heart had willed it so but just didn't inform my consciousness."

"I thank you for sharing Celebrian's Maze with me," Legolas stood and bowed solemnly, another hint of colour staining his cheeks as he interpreted that message through the filter of his newly awakened sexuality. Would Elrond stay to watch him bathe? At once he imagined another ellon here with him, an image of Glorfindel naked beside him in the water washing his back, and the surge of desire he felt was strong but not upsetting. That must be how it was supposed to be, he decided, liking the warm throb settling in his groin far better than the gnawing ache and constant erection that had assailed him these last two months.

He strolled the perimeter of the pond and let the magic of the maze envelope him in tendrils of gentle welcome and soothing solace, feeling as if all his cares were being stripped away from him one by one. He felt lighter of heart and suddenly halted, stretching up tall on his toes, raising arms as high as he could and craning his face skyward, an unbidden smile overtaking his visage.

"Ah, it is good to see you so at ease," Elrond laughed as Legolas came back to earth and met his gaze with a beaming countenance. "Now I will leave you to rest and recover. You are to sleep covered in the blessings of Estë and no cares or visions will trouble your repose. You need true sleep, not just the respite of waking reverie. Let your body heal in this time and I will return before the evening meal to retrieve you. Once we have dined, for I have no doubt you will be famished, then we will set about unravelling this conundrum."

"I will do as you say, Hîren," agreed Legolas. "You are certain none will know to seek me here?"

"I am sure," nodded Elrond, smiling in kindly amusement at the return of the ellon's libido, for without the tunic to cover it Legolas' arousal was noticeable.

He left the maze pleased to know such spontaneous and natural responses were still possible for him, confident Legolas would explore his lust for Glorfindel by the more traditional forms of fantasising and masturbation, untroubled by the lurid scenes of the past. His path led him back to the Last Homely House but he eschewed his office, feeling the need for another consultation, and descended to the lair of his worthy seneschal. As per the norm, Erestor was expecting him.

"Had I suspected it was this serious, I would have written Thranduil for details as soon as Legolas arrived," the tall ellon complained. He'd just been treated to a thorough account of the morning digression into the life and times of Legolas, both the child of Thranduil's erotic dream of passionate enslavement and the night-sighted hero of Gondolin's actual seduction and rape. Now Erestor paced to and fro in slow, carefully measured steps, a departure from his normal stillness that did not grant his kinsman's heart succour.

"Then you believe he is reborn?" Elrond was not surprised, as he could find no better solution to the riddle, but Erestor flashed him an aggravated scowl.

"Did I say that?" he snapped. "Stop hastening to conclusions; we've hardly any facts at present."

"The visions were real, to this I would swear," Elrond argued. "How could he know any of it if he had not lived through it? Legolas' anguish and distress were genuine, as was Glorfindel's frantic desire to rush to his aid."

"Ah yes, our intrepid Balrog-slayer," droned Erestor, his tone not very complimentary at all. "That is what I would know from Thranduil, for Glorfindel's arrival in Greenwood coincides rather suspiciously with the onset of these dreams burdening the young Wood Elf."

"How can you surmise that?" Elrond was startled; it was not a connection he would have considered though he was curious over Glorfindel's sudden visit to the forest realm.

"I asked Legolas how long the dreams had been going on; didn't you?" Erestor could see from his cousin's chagrined expression that he had not and snorted a deprecating laugh. "Of course, I knew about Glorfindel's little personal errand. I am almost certain he went there demanding to meet Legolas and that Thranduil ran him off. We are not the only ones who know the weight of historic events. He's deeply worried about his son."

"I am not surprised by that." Actually, Elrond never ceased being surprised by what Erestor knew of events both near and far. Obviously, he'd had news from the distraught father before Legolas' sudden appearance in the hallway outside the office of the Lord of Imladris. "Yet would Glorfindel's interest cause these dreams if Thranduil's Legolas is not also Legolas of Gondolin?"

"Mandos is not a prison," Erestor remarked cryptically and resumed his sauntering stroll about the study.

"Ai Valar," groaned Elrond and he had to go sit down. This was not what he'd hoped to hear, though he'd already considered it; in fact, this very fear had sent him back to confer with his seneschal. A heavy sigh raised and lowered his shoulders and he stared at Erestor in grim dismay. "You think we must put it to the test, then."

"I do," nodded Erestor and joined him on the sofa. "How soon can you have the crystals ready?"

"At once," Elrond sighed again. "I have a second set."

"That is well. The sooner the better."

"Aye, Legolas is suffering terribly."

"Aye."

"Tonight?"

"Tonight. Here would be best for at least no word of it will get abroad."

"You can supply everything needed?"

"Of course."

Yet neither moved to set this plot in motion for each dreaded undergoing the strain such a procedure involved. Indeed, neither one had ever tried it before and the practise was known only through ancient texts dictated by Melian herself in the Time before Time. Minutes ticked away as the two elven Lords brooded over the situation and eventually Erestor stirred, rising just prior to a polite knock upon the door.

"I sent for Glorfindel," he announced and ushered the reborn ellon inside. "Thank you for coming," he said with a dip of his head, but his tone was cool and the menace in his voice increased another notch. It made the mighty Balrog-slayer cringe just the faintest bit.

"Of course," Glorfindel nodded, surprised to find Elrond here also. He looked from one to the other, suspicious and wary of their vaguely accusing stares. "What is this about?"

"You went to Greenwood recently," stated Erestor without preamble. "To what purpose?"

Glorfindel's eyes widened in astonishment to discover his movements so carefully marked but he did not let it loosen his tongue. "Yes, I did and the reason is none of your business, Erestor."

"That won't do," admonished Elrond testily, rising. "We've cause to suspect your visit was the catalyst for what ails young Legolas."

"What? That is preposterous!" blustered Glorfindel, face going red. "I only met him once formally at a ball. We barely spoke."

"Why so, since he is the reason you went there?" Erestor queried.

"Thranduil told you all about it, no doubt," the mighty warrior complained, the words rife with rancour. "What if I did want to court him? Is it so wrong? I sent the most courteous request in the old manner, pleading my case to his father when really I might have just gone straight to Legolas. He is of age, after all. Thranduil is smothering his son; that's what drove Legolas from the woods."

"I think not," Elrond shook his head in aggravated disappointment. "Glorfindel, I know what Legolas represents for you, but to go there and foist that hope upon him was unconscionable. Sharing the same name does not mean they must share the same spirit. He deserves to live his own life, mellon, not merely become the validation for yours."

"Is this why you so readily agreed to return to Middle-earth?" demanded Erestor. "How did you know of his birth? Did Námo grant you this knowledge?"

"You are ensnared in the convoluted mesh of your devious mind, Erestor, inventing this tortuous plot to account for what should be self-evident." Glorfindel pointed at him, his honour wounded by such a charge. "I came back at the behest of Manwë even as I said. If you doubt my integrity then speak with Mithrandir and he will verify my statement." He turned on Elrond then. "That you would think this of me is too harsh. I did not know of Thranduilion before coming here, but when I found out then I could not help but hope. I had to see him. Since you seem to understand my motives, how can you accuse me of trying to do him harm? I would never ask him to assume an identity not his own; indeed, such isn't even possible to do."

"Oh, have you become one of Námo's disciples?" retorted Erestor acidly. "I think not; therefore, you can know nothing of what is possible in the realm of spirits."

"Enough!" shouted Glorfindel. "I'll not endure your abuses, Erestor, for I have committed no crime. What can you know of Mandos? I at least have dwelled in the spirit realm and thus understand it a little. If you are so keen to increase your knowledge, then I will happily slit your lying throat and get you there."
"All right," Elrond got quickly between them, though he knew well that Erestor's baiting was only that, designed to push Glorfindel past the barrier of denial into revealing his heart. "Let us not fall to violence either in word or deed, my friends," he said soothingly, catching Erestor's eye to indicate he was satisfied. "We all want to help Legolas overcome this nightmare in which he has become mired."

"Aye, at least we agree on this," growled the reborn warrior, glaring into Erestor's chilling and remorseless eyes. "If there is aught I can do to assist him, then name it. Legolas is everything to me and deserves only happiness."

"Very well," intoned Erestor gravely. "I warn you now this once and never again, nor will I hear reprisals from you over the results achieved by the cure. We need to test whether this Legolas is your friend from Ages past or a bright new soul beset by an ancient and woefully wounded one."

Glorfindel allowed a small gasp to escape him and recoiled a step from Erestor. He sent an accusing frown at Elrond and then faced the seneschal. "You speak as though you know much more of our history than I would like," he spat.

"Be that as it may," Elrond intervened before the combatants came to blows. "Your evasive words tell me you have become worried about this possibility yourself, Glorfindel. The time for this dissembling is far past, mellonen. For the sake of Thranduil's son and your benighted lover, set aside your reservations now and help us do this thing. He cannot remain free long, if such is his state. You more than we two understand the danger to an un-housed soul wandering loose in these dark days."

Silence filled the confines of the sumptuous salon as the implications of these words burrowed deep inside each one's heart and mind. The horror of it was inescapable and this at last broke through Glorfindel's resolve. He collapsed in a chair and covered his face with a piteous groan.

"Curse Melkor!" he seethed. "He does not deserve that fate after all he has endured already."

Elrond went to him and settled consoling hands upon his stooped shoulders. "Nay, he does not. If he is reborn, then he has come free of Mandos too soon and suffers still. The procedure will give him healing and allow him to relinquish that painful past."

"Or, should he be not reborn, then Thranduil's son is not to be used this way by him, his body taken and his spirit ousted so that his namesake may be here with you now," Erestor warned of the other, equally plausible scenario. "Then he must be convinced to return to Mandos and submit to the judgement of Námo, as must all who perish by violence and grief."

Glorfindel raised his head and peered long at Erestor, seeing now that he had Legolas' interests foremost at heart. For this, he would willingly endure all the slurs the Noldorin Lord could fling upon him. He offered the wily seneschal a grim smile. "So be it; we are in accord. Either way, Legolas needs our help. What must we do?"

"Ai, it will not be pretty or pleasant, I fear," sighed Elrond. "We must take him back into that history and there coax from him the truth. If he is your Legolas reborn, then he will face the demons of the past and subdue them. If he is an un-housed spirit, then we must confront him with his abuse of a free-born ellon living the life granted him by Eru. You will have to convince him to go back to Mandos, Glorfindel."

"You know of a means to achieve this visitation?" Glorfindel almost hoped the answer was negative but looking upon his comrades he already knew the answer. He sighed and rose. "There is something you have not said," he challenged. "Speak; whatever it is, it cannot be worse than what I have already seen in two life-times."

"Do not be so sure," cautioned Erestor and this time his words were filled with compassion. He looked away frowning, lowering his proud countenance in shame.

"Indeed, Glorfindel. What we must do is recreate the original ordeal, hoping this will lure Legolas into revealing himself," explained Elrond.

"Nay!" Glorfindel stared at them in disbelief. "You would ask me that? Valar, I will not add to his hurts in that way. I have sworn it everyday since my death, that should I be granted another chance at life, I would honour him as he deserved. He never did harm to anyone but was punished unduly nonetheless. There has to be another way."

Their silence spoke for them and Glorfindel had not the heart to protest anymore. Between them swirled the reality that if they were wrong, then they would have perpetrated upon an innocent the same degradation suffered by Legolas of Gondolin. The only consolation was that Elrond would exact agreement from his patient before the spell was cast. It was on all their minds that this was no way to enter into the delights of sexual union. Erestor at last spoke what none could bear to say.

"I cannot do this to a virgin. You must take him first, Glorfindel, with as much tenderness and dignity as your heart allows."

"My heart is broken," Glorfindel choked out, tears filling his eyes. "I did not want it to be like this. I should not have gone to Greenwood, then he would not have known I live."

"It need not be harmful," soothed Elrond, wrapping an arm over the Balrog-slayer's shoulders. "He desires you and he wants to learn of these pleasures. You need not break his heart in teaching him."

"Be at peace," said Erestor. "This is not your doing; I see it now. Whether you had gone to Greenwood or not, this crisis would still have arisen for our young friend. Be glad instead, for you will ensure he is not debased in this life, whoever he is, ancient soul or new-sprung spirit."

"He is in Celebrian's garden, mellon," said Elrond. "Go to him."

TBC

NOTE: Thank you Tourette for sticking with me :) and thank you neerdua for reviewing :) Yes that was a very harsh chapter but I think I got it out of my system and this chapter shows some hope for that happy ending i promised :)
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Beautiful Dreamer

Part Four: Whether Shall I Wander