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Rescued Lord	By : matschristiana Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 5631 -:- 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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Rescued Lord

V. New Dream
Relieved, the dark elf sighed as the doors of his room shut behind him. Yes, Lord Elrond was right. He rested against the side of the door and took a deep breath. It had definitely been a hard day, a very hard day. Lindir had worn him out although he had done nothing. Now the only thing he wished was to sleep. He looked at the large white bed that had caught his attention the previous night, and decided that this night he would lie on the white pillows without worries that he would smudge them. It was such a pleasant sensation to be clean. He caressed the sleeve of his white tunic. But then the soft silk of his hair brushed his hand. Curiously he took that long lock and twined it around his finger. He never knew that his hair was so long and soft.

Slowly he entered the next room where he had noticed the mirror the previous day, and surprised he watched his reflection. There was a completely unknown elf looking back at him. His tresses were black as a night sky, straight and shiny and his pointed ears tapered out gracefully from them. It was so different from the matted hair he had been used to for centuries. He touched his head again and shifted his hair away from his face. It was clean. The dust and oily dirt covering his features was gone. But the familiar dark eyes watched him. 'Those eyes!' a woman's voice shrieked in his memory so loudly that he jerked. Many times women from his human family had threatened that they would scratch his eyes out. He never longed for the attention that his eyes caught. Never. He would gladly be without it.

'When he takes a bath he doesn't look so bad. And those his pointed ears...' He remembered those words the merchant whispered to Lord Glorfindel very well. He knew that the golden-haired elf had watched him for a long time in the market. He knew that he wanted to buy him at any price and he had heard the threat when the merchant hesitated. Why did Glorfindel buy him? He shook as he remembered the years when the merchant would visit him every second night. That had been the same for centuries. Father and son and then his son... He had noticed how the merchant's heir had been watching him carefully for the last few months. He should be thankful to Glorfindel that he had led him from that place. But what could he expect from the golden-haired Lord? Why did he buy him? After all Glorfindel was told that he knew nothing. There was no other explanation...

He lowered his dark eyes and returned to the bedroom. His bedroom? How far was it to the chambers of Lord Glorfindel? Where exactly did he go? When will he come back? How many nights will he spend alone after Glorfindel's return? He pictured the vision of the golden-haired warrior as he left the Valley. His fair armour gleamed in the afternoon sunshine and the dark elf realized that it had been made of Mithril. His golden hair danced as his long grey cloak flowed behind him with his every quick step. His pale hands carried weapons, and there was an impatient yet resolved expression written in his beautiful features. Glorfindel was leaving for battle. The vision transformed to the memory of the afternoon when he realized that his new master was an elf. He remembered the charming smile and the touch of strong arms which caught him when he was falling from the horse. He remembered bright-blue eyes shining when Glorfindel smiled at his blushes...

A quiet rustle and whining caught his attention. Immediately his eyes searched for the basket where three hairy balls rolled over. He approached them and knelt. Next to the basket there was a bowl with prepared food for the dogs. �Are you hungry?' He pushed the bowl closer and took out one of the puppies. His lips curved in a slight smile when he saw the other two watching their brother and then trying to get out of the basket. He caressed the soft fur of the restless animal and put it down to the bowl. Probably she... Niende ... taught them to feed from the bowl because the puppy immediately sank its muzzle to the food. He placed the other two next to the bowl and stroked them. Elrond was probably right when he said that at the end all of the puppies would be his. Lady Arwen did not seem to miss them.

A quiet knock forced him to raise his head and look away from the adorable balls which started to explore the room. The door opened and Lindir stepped inside with a large tray. He looked around the chamber, lit only by the fading embers in the fireplace. His green eyes stopped on the dark-haired elf who watched him, sitting on the floor behind the table. The puppy trio ran clumsily around him.

"Dinner," Lindir smiled as he closed the door. "I thought that you were asleep so I didn't want to disturb you." He placed the tray down, then lit the candles on the table.

The dark elf stood up curiously and looked at the feast. Was he supposed to eat all of that? Soup, white bread, fresh and stewed vegetables, a few slices of meat with creamy sauce, cheeses of all kinds, fruit and biscuits, and three jugs containing water, cider, and wine. He shook his head. It was impossible to eat even one fourth of that. Besides, he was also surprised that they cared enough to feed him at all...

As if he were reading his thoughts, Lindir pushed out the chair for the dark elf and gestured for him to sit down. "Lord Elrond thinks that you should eat properly. Which also happens to be my opinion. You are too skinny. Before..." The dark eyes that looked back at him stopped his words for awhile. "... certainly you were not," he finished. "You are only bones and skin. What did you eat anyway?"

But the elf lowered his eyes to the dinner instead of replying. What did he eat? Whatever he captured from the table when the humans finished or what he could steal in the store or find outside in the fields and forest. Definitely he had never been offered such a feast. With sidelong looks at the fair elf, who tried to find the lost puppies and watch him at the same time, he started to eat. He tasted a little from every food, then rested back in the chair and looked at Lindir who had found the last dog at last, under the bed. The fair-haired elf snarled at the gray-black ball angrily and placed it to the basket with its brothers.

"Dogs in the house?" He shook his head. "Arwen must be out of her mind!" Then he turned to the dark elf and frowned. "That is all you are going to eat?"

The dark elf shrugged his shoulders apologetically. He was so awfully full that he was not sure he would move.

"All right then," Lindir sighed. "So go to rest. Val� is expecting you to come for fittings in the afternoon."

Afternoon? What should he do until then? But before he could think to ask, Lindir bowed his head and left with a murmured "Sleep well." What will he do? This was not right. He wished so much that he could speak. He opened his mouth... but after a while he shut it with tears in his eyes. Nothing. Not a single tone. So he blew the candles out and approached the bed. Carefully he smoothed the white blanket with his hands. It was so soft. Without hesitation he took off his clothes and slipped onto the soft pillows. He stretched and then sighed blissfully. The cool fabric caressed his skin pleasantly. But he was tired and his dark eyes slowly unfocused.

'A silver-haired figure was walking towards him, and Mithril armour shined in warm sunlight, illuminating the elf. The dark elf did not see his face, but he knew him. He knew him very well. Then a helmet and unsheathed sword gleamed. And he saw many other figures. He knew them all. But he could not remember them. They were passing him by without noticing. Fair and dark figures whose eyes did not see him. He called to them, he tried to reach them but before he could touch them they passed away. Saddened he sagged to his knees. He raised his hands to the fair elf whom he saw first.

A scream left his lips when he saw his hands were covered with blood, black and red. Again he looked at the silver figure. His heart constricted. The fair warrior was bound to an instrument of torture, and his body was covered with layers of blood. Shining hair tumbled to pale shoulders and the rest fell down across his face. The dark elf raised shaking hands to expose his features...

With an unvoiced scream the dark-haired elf sat up in the bed, gasping for breath. His heart was throbbing as if it wanted to get out of his chest and a cold sweat was running down his shaking body. He did not remember having such a nightmare before. He had never dreamt about a silver-haired warrior...

He stood up a bit uncertainly and approached the table where his shaking hands grasped a goblet. He took a long gulp of wine and felt the liquid driving away the cold left from the nightmare. He turned to the white bed that had been so tempting he had forgotten his nightmares. But they would not let him forget... He did not want to fall asleep again. He could not.

He dressed slowly and approached the opened window. The sky above Imladris was velvety black and the waxed moon along with thousands of stars was shining. He heard the whispering of the forest and the song of nearby waterfalls and brooks emptying into the river. He caught a glimpse of the flash of their surfaces. The warm night wind carried the narcotic scent of night flowers and the twittering of night insects... There was a peace outside which slowly calmed his disturbed body and mind.

After a while he successfully lit the candle in the single sconce and silently slipped from his room. He walked through the dark corridors of the quiet house. The dark was everywhere, surely everyone slept. Though he knew where his steps were leading him, he still smiled slightly when he saw the heavy door with silver mounting. Carefully he touched the shiny handle and pressed it. The door opened quietly and the arched chambers with lines of bookcases, full of books and scrolls of all sizes, appeared before him. He let the door close behind him.

He approached the table where a single candlestick stood and he lit it from the flame he brought with him. For a while the silence was broken by the quiet cracking before the jumping flames turned into still yellow ones. Then he looked around. The majestic atmosphere was surrounding him, and the silence was nearly palpable. This mysterious library had attracted him from the first time he had seen it. He knew that these chambers were a familiar world to him. He approached the nearest bookcase and caressed the backs of the books on the shelf. The he took one of them and opened it.

Desperately he stared at the black letters that he did not know. He returned the book to its place and took another one. He knew he had seen that script as he knew that he had heard the language of the elves of Imladris. Though he understood only the few sentences that Val� had said herself, he was sure that among all those books he could find at least one that he would be able to read.

Determined to find it he started to search. And it seemed that he had good luck. In a short time he was sitting by the table absorbed in the pages of The Return of Noldor to Middle Earth. He needed to light other candles that he found in the library because he could not stop reading until his dark head fell down. Uncomfortably leaning against the table, he fell asleep just as the sky started to clear up and a new daybreak was about to come.
TBC
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Rescued Lord