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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

VI. Melpomaen
His eyes slowly focused. The day had started some time ago and the sunshine was warming the shadows of the library. A dull pain in his neck forced him to move his head and he raised it from his hands. Before him laid the opened book. He had been reading it in the night and then he must have fallen asleep. Gradually he became aware of the presence of another person. A hand was resting on his shoulder, it must have woken him up. In spite of the pain he turned and looked up at the elf who stood next to him.

"What are you doing here?" the unknown dark-haired elf asked. "Who are you?"

He did not understand him. What was the stranger asking? How could he answer him? He hadn't wanted to fall asleep here. Was it so bad? Lindir said that he could go to the library. What was the elf going to do? Scared, he looked into the green eyes which watched him. Suddenly a thought flashed into their depths.

"I've got it," the stranger said in the common tongue and smiled. "You must be our new arrival. You came with Lord Glorfindel, didn't you?"

A bit relieved he nodded. At least the elf was not angry with him. Nevertheless the proximity of the elf and the hand on his shoulder made him feel uneasy.

"I'm Melpomaen--a bit of scribe, a bit of librarian, sometimes an advisor of Lord Elrond, I'm--well what is needed," he introduced himself. "But what are you doing here?" He took the opened book from the table and looked at it curiously. "The Return of Noldor and the Battle under the Stars? But that is in original Quenya." He arched his eyebrows curiously, then sat on the chair and put down the scrolls he carried. "You can read it?"

The dark haired elf nodded.

"Where do you come from?" Melpomaen asked.

He did not remember anything from the times before... If only he could recall his memories! He frowned and shrugged his shoulders.

"Can you write?" The dark-haired elf obviously was not as young as everyone thought. Although he did not speak and his memories were lost, a high intelligence and a kind of wisdom might be hidden behind the dark eyes. Now all that was needed was to uncover it. Melpomaen smiled when the elf shrugged his shoulders helplessly once again. At least something interesting was happening in Imladris after a long time. And it could become interesting even for him� "Lunch will be served soon," he continued.

Curiously Melpomaen watched the chocolate eyes widen in even more surprise and his look turn frightened. A lunch? The dark elf thought frantically. Is the time so late? How could he have slept so long? Did anybody search for him? Had he missed something? Lord Elrond and Lindir will be angry!

"... But until then you could come with me if you have nothing more important. And take that book with you." He stood up and approached the bookcase where the book came from. "Somewhere here must be its translation in Sindarin..." His fingers caressed the lines of books until he turned back with the victorious smile and with a similar tome in his hand. He arched his eyebrow questioningly. "You could learn this language... or recall it."

Yes, he would like it. He would like to understand the elves around him. Their language was not completely unknown to him, he even understood a few words... He nodded eagerly. He grabbed the scrolls which Melpomaen left on the table as well as his book, ready to leave.

"So come," the scribe laughed and opened the door so that the the elf could enter the corridor with his full arms.

He followed Melpomaen throught the corridor that Lindir had showed him the day before. He knew that Elrond's study was near the library. Close by the next door Melpomaen halted and turned to him.

"I heard that Lindir showed you around yesterday. The house was too big for me for the first few weeks--I had to ask for the right way all the time. Don't be afraid to seek help. Well, this is my study, you can find me here mostly... along with some another elves. We do what is needed: transcribing, sorting, registering...accounts, documents, corespondence, everything. Come." He opened the door and entered.

Some another elves? The dark elf stepped inside carefully and looked around. The chamber was large and bathed in sunshine. Next to the windows were situated three desks and another two in the center of the room. Many tables and bookcases and shelves stood haphazardly, sagging under the piles of books and scrolls. He could also see rumpled papers on the floor and in the corners. While he entered the room the heads of every elf raised and four pair of eyes laid on him. Shyly he tilted his head in greeting. Immediately Melpomaen pushed him inside the room and closed the door behind him.

"Friends, allow me to introduce yesterday's distraction, otherwise known as the new arrival to Imladris," Melpomaen addressed the elves, before briefly introducing them to him. "Come," he pushed him to the empty place at a desk. He took the scrolls that the dark elf carried and put them on the messy pile of papers on the desk. He pushed the books aside onto a nearby table and drew up a chair.

"Sit down," he said to the dark-haired elf who was trying to make himself invisible by hiding behind the curtain of his long tresses. Obediently he sat down and put the book he carried on the desk. Melpomaen placed the translation next to it and added some papers from the drawer. He also drew an inkpot nearer and offered him a blue quill.

The dark elf caressed the colored feather and looked up to meet green eyes. What did Melpomaen want from him? He did not even know if he could write, but the scribe had already opened the book to the first page.

"So, try to write the first line," he appealed to the dark elf.

He looked at the letters biting his lower lip. Then he looked up at the fair face uncertainly. Melpomaen smiled at him encouragingly. So he raised the quill and dipped it in the black ink. A drop formed on the tip immediately only to return back to the inkpot. Carefully he wiped the quill against the brim and brought it to the paper. He looked at the first letter in the book and made his first tentative stroke. Clumsily he copied the letter. In fact it looked like anything besides what he wanted to write. He twirled the quill in his fingers and looked at the dark-haired scribe.

But those green eyes did not see the cramped letter, they were fixed on his hand. Melpomaen slowly smiled. "Go on."

So he tried to copy another symbol and then another and another, with more or less success, biting his lower lip in concentration. He felt this was not the first time he had written. He had to have held the quill some time before. He frowned at the book with its shapely written pages and then at his own creation. Every line was written in a different way! It did not look like writing. Unhappily he looked at Melpomaen.

"You will make it, you will see." A comforting hand stroked his shoulder. He jerked under the unexpected touch. Melpomaen took his hand off immediately. With a questioningly raised eyebrow he watched the dark elf's face hidden behind long tresses, those chocolate eyes averted. "Well," Melpomaen stepped away from him. "You can continue if you want. I have some work to do but I will come find you for lunch, alright?"

Yes, he wished to continue. It felt so familiar to bend over the pages and to watch the letters covering them. So he nodded and without hesitation he started copying.

He did not even notice the time slipping away until Melpomaen's voice sounded above him again. "Time to finish!" Surprised he looked up at the scribe who instantly started to laugh. His dark eyes widened uncomprehendingly. Slowly he lowered them to his papers. Truly, there were some blots but the writen symbols were quite similar to those in the book. So he looked again at the scribe in question.

"I'm sorry," Melpomaen choked, trying to control his laughter. He pulled out a little mirror from somewhere on the table and gave it to the dark-haired elf who looked in it uncertainly. His chocolate eyes widened in horror. There were dark smudges on his faces and on the brow--even the tip of his nose was dirty. And Melpomaen wanted him to go to lunch? Never! All the elves would laugh too. It was bad enough when they whispered behind him!

"Allow me," said the scribe, taking the mirror from his hands. He pulled out a piece of clean white cloth and soaked its corner in the clear liquid of a bottle he also fished from the desk. Those dark eyes lowered to the hand which reached to push his dark tresses from his face. Then it held his chin while the other hand with the cloth started to remove the smudges. Melpomaen giggled for the last time before he cleaned the dirty tip of his nose and then he offered the cloth so that he could clean his hands too.

"Now, we can go," he said, smiling. The dark elf noticed that the other elves had left the office already. "I'm quite hungry and I guess that you are too since you missed breakfast."

Where were they going? The dark elf wondered. Quietly he followed Melpomaen who hurried down the corridors. The dark elf recognized some of the doors Lindir had shown him the day before. And then he stopped abruptly under the arch leading to the big dining hall while the dark-haired scribe almost ran inside. He can't go in there� But the next second his companion returned, grabbed his arm and dragged him inside. So the dark elf obeyed and followed, trying to be utterly inconspicuous. And it went well enough.

He was seated next to Melpomaen and safely hid behind the curtain of his hair, he looked around. They sat at the end of a horse-shoe formed table, with Lord Elrond sitting at the head. Lady Arwen was laughing next to the ruler and on his other hand sat the twins. The chair next to them was empty. In fact there were many more empty chairs in the dining hall. Obviously they belonged to the elves who had left with Lord Glorfindel.

"Soup?" Melpomaen's voice interrupted his observations.

The dark elf turned to him and nodded. He was not even hungry--the food he had eaten the previous evening was normally enough to sustain him for a whole week. But when he looked at the creamy liquid smiling at him from the plate he could not resist. He took the spoon but when he looked up at the elves opposite to him, he dropped it. They were so elegant, their movements as graceful as a dance. Like it or not he had to shift his hair from his face and with his eyes lowered he started to eat.

The dark elf didn't even protest when without asking Melpomaen placed a few baked beans and a lot of vegetables onto his plate while he was talking to the fair-haired elf opposite him. He shook his head when Melpomaen asked if he wanted more. Obediently he continued eating. In spite of knowing it was not proper his ears were catching every word. So much he wished to understand to the elves around him, their language seemed so familiar to him. He forced himself to eat a little sweet cake with cream that Melpomaen placed before him until he was able to refuse other sweetnesses.

The lunch ended when Lord Elrond stood up. The dark-haired elf watched the elves leaving the dining hall. Even Melpomaen stood up and leaned over to him, saying "Stay if you wish. You can find me later in the office but now if you'll excuse me�"

His dark eyes watched Melpomaen who hurried to the fair-haired elf dressed in the blue tunic and gray leggings. Immediately the scribe was entwined by the strong arms and met by a kiss. The dark elf averted his eyes. Slowly he also stood up and disappeared from the hall.

His feet led him to his room. The moment he opened the door he was welcomed by yelping puppies from the different corners of the room. Surprised, he closed the door and caught the nearest animal. He lifted it in his arms and caressed its gray-black fur. He rearranged the basket that they had turned upside down, along with the now empty bowl. 'I see you are not hungry anymore,' he laughed voicelessly. 'How did you do it?' He looked into the puppy's eyes and then he buried his face in its soft fur before he put it in the basket. The puppy immediately started to try climbing out.

The dark elf caught the next running ball of hair, identical to the first one. It had the same gray-black colour, even the one ear that was raised. He caressed the puppy and put it in the basket. Then he looked around. 'Where's the last one?' On the place where he saw the animal last was only a wet pool on the marble floor. He shooked his head curiously. In the next room which happened to be a bathroom he found something like a duster but in fact it was a towel. He cleaned the little mess and on all fours he started to search for the lost puppy.

The dark-haired elf raised the beadspread and looked under the bed. 'Here you are, you little beast!' he smiled at the puppy and reached for him. But the little animal didn't want to be caught so easily and evidently thought it was great fun trying to escape his hand and yelping hysterically. 'Oh, come on, be nice and come here!'

In the end he had to get under the bed too. Then he caught the surprisingly fast ball of hair before it could escape again. He sat next to the bed gasping, the puppy in his arms licking his fingers happily. 'Well, the lunch was excellent!' he laughed in his mind and caressed the last puppy. 'It had to be your job ecsaping the basket. I have to fetch a higher one for you.'

A quiet knock forced the dark-haired elf to look up. He stood up and approached the door to open it. A she-elf who was working in Val�'s workshop the day before was standing there. She smiled at the puppy in his arms before she looked into his eyes.

"My lady Val� asks you to come as soon as possible," she announced to him in the common tongue and waited for his nod until she continued: "Let me escort you then."

Again the dark elf nodded and disappeared into his room for a while. He put the puppy in the basket. It started to climb out immediately and he was sure that he would have to search for them again when returning. He quickly washed his face and hands and left the room.

Val� welcomed him to her house and pushed him inside her workshop. The moment both his legs were in the room, he was spun around a few times.

"Too thin, too skinny!" Val� whispered to herself. "What did they do to you?... We will have to adjut soon!... Lindir will look after� Where should we begin? Lets stand you on that stool, there's a lot of sunshine� I will fix the length."

The dark-haired elf went to the stool where Val� pushed him. She approached him like a big silver dragonfly, circling him until she stopped in front of him and frowned. "Take off that tunic!" She looked into his big chocolate eyes which widened and arched an eyebrow questioningly. "Do you understand me?" ahe asked in Common, realizing that was the language Lindir had spoken to him in the day before. But yes, the dark elf understood her very well. She was babbling in original Quenya but the command was Sindarian. He nodded with hesitation. How was he supposed to explain that to her?

Val� made another command but the dark elf shook his head. Surprise flashed in her eyes and she smiled brilliantly. "Now you understand me?" she asked and he nodded.

"Look at that," she murmured to herself. "What is that secret of yours, beautiful songbird?"

Those chocolate eyes narrowed slightly. Who did she speak about? What secret?

"Very well!" she exclaimed. "Take that tunic off, and we can begin!"

The dark-haired elf felt himself blushing deeply but obeyed. When he handed the tunic to the she-elf, Val� shook her head slightly. "You should eat properly," she announced and gave him a beige tunic. Again she started to flit around him, adding a pin here and there. Then she unblocked one side and took the tunic off him. Surprised he watched as she threw it to a passing she-elf and a moment later pushed a black robe over his head. She stepped back for a while watching him. In the end she shook her head.

"You are completely lost in that colour," she sighed. "I knew that was not for you."

He looked around trying to find a mirror. It was not a bad idea.

"Over there!" she waved her hand disappointed. So he lifted the long robe so that he would not stumble and went to the mirrors. How the flowing of the fabric was so splendid with his every step! Such a familiar feeling. He caressed the silk and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes widened in surprise. Like they were led by some other power his hands lifted and started to braid the long dark tresses until they were out of his face, leaving only two free strands before his pointed ears. He touched the reflection. How was the elf looking at him familiar! It was a picture from the past, from the time before�

Val�'s thoughtful eyes found his in the mirror. He nodded. It was the exact robe for him. The dressmaker approached. She took a few clips out of her hair and clasped his braided tresses.Then she watched him a long time before she smiled.

"You will return them later, now keep them� Come, lets fix the robe."

He let her lead him to the footboard. After that she flowed around him as before, but the waterfall of her words died and from time to time she looked at him, thinking.
A/N: Thank you for all your reviews, I really appretiate them.
Megan, thank you for beta-ing.
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Rescued Lord