Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Fractured Light	By : narcolinde Category: +Third Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2651 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the characters and settings created by JRR Tolkien. No profit earned from this story. Just for fun. OC's and story are erobey's.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
Erestor's Proposition

They walked quietly through the grounds, Erestor's long stride shorter on this occasion, his usual hasty air of urgency cast aside in favour of a more leisurely pace meant to accommodate Legolas' reduced stamina. The Wood Elf was already softly puffing, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and brow glistening just a touch. Erestor was watching him carefully, worried about the strain just endured and the thoughts that might be running through the young warrior's head. Yet the seneschal was not given to secrecy in this sort of endeavour and felt the woodland prince had already figured out what the accepted treatment was for a condition such as his.

The vivid blue eyes swivelled to meet his, wary and filled with dismay. Erestor could imagine the turmoil inspiring that quandary, for now that they were out of the house Legolas must be wondering how to behave with this ellon he barely knew who knew entirely too much about his trials. The seneschal offered a smile.

"That was rather unsettling," he said, "but they only mean to make you well again."

"Yes, I know this," Legolas frowned around the words and sighed, wiping at his forehead, brows uplifting to discover the moisture there. He stopped and stared at the faint smear across his finger tips. "That doesn't make it any easier to bear. Elbereth! I have never been so weak!"

The reply was couched in disgust and he set forth again with more determination at the speed he was wont to use and soon was huffing away with every stride. Mortified to have put on such a display of pathetic denial, he considering this ancient warrior must think him about as mature as a five year old. Really, his motivation for asking Erestor to stay after the meal eluded him, yet he could not deny he was glad to be out of there, save that now he couldn't even manage a simple walk to the stables without draining his reserves. Beside him, the tall Noldorin lord matched his gait perfectly, black locks swaying behind him.

"No, kindness and concern does not make their meddling any less disturbing," Erestor conceded, "nor is realisation of the body's limits known to inspire confidence. Even so, these things are not beyond your means to conquer them."

"No?" Legolas was forced to stop again, breathing hard to catch his breath.

"Of course not. You are already greatly improved, and getting outside, pursuing strenuous, wholesome exercise will enhance the body's renewal." Erestor fished about in his pockets, producing a very small flask of gold. The container was engraved in elegant script and bore initials within an elaborate seal, but his hands covered most of it. This he uncapped and passed to Legolas. "Just a sip should ease your pulse and help you regain strength," he said.

"I have suffered injuries before now and healing has always been swift," muttered Legolas, sampling the fluid. Expecting some form of strong, throat-searing spirits, his expression registered pleasant surprise over the smooth, cool liquid's sweet taste and he was not eager to hand the flask back. "Miruvor?"

"Aye, it is."

"You carry that by habit? I thought it was rare." Legolas examined the container, admiring the detailed decorations, and dared another swallow.

"Nay, I don't for it is," Erestor replied, a bit disconcerted. He hadn't thought Legolas would question such a thing and held out his hand for the flask. "That is enough, for it is known to cause lightheadedness if too much is taken."

"Then you brought it for my sake?" Legolas stared in wonder. "How did you know I would come away riding with you this day?"

"I did not, but it seemed right to have Miruvor." He resumed walking and Legolas joined him, arched brows prompting him to elaborate. "It is true I have been hoping to escort you through the grounds; I was but waiting for your health to improve a little more." The young prince was peering at him, the close regard speculative and undoubtedly intrigued. This both pleased the seneschal and made him flustered, an uncommon reaction that only generated more discombobulation. He found his heart thudding erratically and decided to turn the conversation away from his plans for the Wood Elf.

"As to your long convalescence, that is easily explained. You never tried to kill yourself before." His tone was matter of fact and he smiled again when the face regarding him presented absolute astonishment. "I see no reason to treat it like any other illness or wound a warrior might suffer. It is not a shameful thing, Legolas, to be so torn in heart and soul. I cannot say I have taken a wound like that, but I can tell you I admire your courage in fighting it now, in trying to heal."

Again Legolas stopped and Erestor paused with him, watching the play of emotions flowing through those expressive eyes. Acceptance and gratitude eventually predominated and Erestor allowed himself a minute moment of relief as he put away the Miruvor, glad he would not be the first to experience the prince's ire.

"I am trying to heal; why can't they see it?" demanded Legolas, appeased by knowing someone did. How he hoped this strange and perilous elf had an answer! This simple ploy to escape his father and Elrond's detailed dissection of his inner-most thoughts was producing most unexpected results, and he could not deny that Erestor's interest was flattering.

"It is difficult to know for sure," shrugged Erestor, gently reaching for the prince's arm and drawing him once more into a slow amble toward the stables. Considering what advise to offer, he reached overhead and picked a bough of delicate apple blossoms. "For your father, it is too soon seeing you to understand the progress made. He has been caught up in a harrowing cycle of guilt and frightful imaginings of your condition. He is filled with dread. As for Elrond, I think it is a different sort of fear entirely. He knows the anger is there, growing in your heart daily." Erestor lightly touched the fragrant branch to Legolas' chest. "He does not know how severe your wrath will be or what form it will assume when at last you unleash it."

"That makes sense," Legolas smirked, mildly proud to have the great Lord so flummoxed, and then met the glittering eyes watching him so keenly. He was angry, more than he'd been since his Nana's death, and was displeased to have it so obvious to these ancient lords when he couldn't feel comfortable enough to explore that seething tide of darkness within himself. Thus, he turned from it and focused instead on his companion. "You are very wise to be so adept in reading hearts."

"Aye, it is a gift," agreed Erestor, "though I am not sure there is any wisdom involved in it. Makes me rather good at my job."

"What is that?"

"Why, I verily run this place," Erestor stopped and swept his arms wide, holding the bough like a sceptre, pleased when Legolas grinned. They were now in the stable yard and the fragrant scents of hay and horses permeated the air while a steady bustle of activity filled the place. "Without my insightful input, Elrond would be severely disadvantaged."

"Baudh-en-Námo, (Námo's Judgement) is he giving you the power-behind-the-lord speech?" a laughing voice preceded the tall, golden-haired elf to whom it belonged as Glorfindel emerged from the barn leading his renowned and magnificent charger. "Do not heed him; I run things around here. Without my vigilant protection, we'd have humans putting up villages everywhere and before you know it they'd attract orcs and other vermin to the vale. Can't have that." He smiled warmly at the visitor, happy to see him out and about for of course all the valley knew he was there.

"Oh, I readily concede the need for a strong military contingent," said Erestor regally, "but it is diplomacy and negotiation that increases our strength and abundance."

"Bah! What nonsense. To hear you tell it, you talked the Witch King into abandoning Fornost," countered Glorfindel, grinning as Asfaloth left his side to welcome the Wood Elf.

The dapple-grey stallion lowered his black-velvet muzzle and breathed over Legolas, nickering a soft greeting ere he dipped his head so the ellon could scratch his broad brow. The two were instantly friends and both Erestor and Glorfindel were impressed.

"That is the first time I've seen Asfaloth so congenial with folk he doesn't know," noted Erestor. He neglected to report that the steed despised him utterly, probably because he was the only one brave enough to shoo the horse away when he raided the grain stores.

"Aye, he likes you," said the great general, nodding at the silent sylvan, knowing full well the effect his presence generally produced on young warriors. "Mae Govannen, Legolas o Greenwood. It is good to meet you; your grandfather is known to me."

"Mae Govannen, Hîr Glorfindel," Legolas bowed politely but found he could not generate anything more to say. While he had hoped to meet the legend once his heart had cleared enough to think about where he was, he did not want to present as foolish or fawning. Once again, Erestor provided the distraction needed. "Were you then at Angmar, too?" he asked.

"I was," admitted Erestor, "though my part was minor compared to the sacrifices made by so many gallant men and elves."

"Now he feigns modesty!" exclaimed Glorfindel in mock disgust. "All so that I will announce his accolades instead. So be it, for they are well-earned. Legolas, to Erestor goes the honour of defeating the vile Witch King himself."

"Truly?" Legolas' eyes grew wide indeed as he turned them once more upon the tall, imposing ellon beside him. "How did you do it? It is said those demons cannot be killed."

"Easy enough once you know the trick," hedged Erestor and leaned close to whisper in Legolas' ear. "I'll explain later when he is not around."

Of course Glorfindel heard him and rolled his eyes. "Fine, keep you secrets, mellon. I must leave you now, Legolas, in the capable guard of this worthy warrior. We shall meet again." With that he sprang upon the horse's back and the pair turned away toward the postern.

"Namarië," called Legolas, arm lifted in salute, gladdened beyond telling to have the gesture returned ere the mighty warrior left the yard. He could not withhold a wistful sigh and blushed to hear Erestor's soft chuckle over his obvious hero worship.

"He's just an elf, you know, no different than you or I," said the seneschal, "though he thoroughly enjoys knowing you find him all you imagined."

"Similar to you, that I can see, but I have done no great deeds," answered Legolas.

A sudden overwhelming sensation of shame enveloped his heart, recalling that he had wished only to die and spare himself the agony of fading, while folk of Glorfindel and Erestor's ilk had endured far greater hardships and yet made contributions to their world. Seeing the woebegone expression accompanying these thoughts, Erestor deduced its cause and reached for Legolas, setting his hand in a firm grip around his arm.

"You are young yet; there is plenty of time for you to do your part," he said, presenting an encouraging smile and permitting the prince's clear blue gaze to take its time and mark his sincerity. He was rewarded with a sombre smile and a nod. "Now then," Erestor tossed aside the drooping bough and tugged his companion into motion. "Let us imitate Glorfindel's example and ride out into the countryside. There are many interesting places to see here in Imladris."

They toured the valley at a leisurely pace, speaking little, Erestor stopping whenever Legolas wished, but he kept their journey on a definite trend and before long reached a high bluff overlooking a picturesque dell dotted with bright sunlit meadows and brief stands of hardwoods. Erestor dismounted and Legolas followed suit and the two stood overlooking the vale in silence for a time. The wind was brisk and set the strands of black and golden hair flying, first mixing and filtering them apart again.

"This is my favourite place," Erestor finally said and smiled as he met Legolas' inquisitive eyes. "It reminds me of my childhood home in Beleriand. See, the way the land is divided, open plains and sheltered wooded zones, it seems almost as if people ordered things thus and lived here once, long ago. So I imagine it."

"That is no wonder; there was indeed a village there," said Legolas with such assurance in his voice that Erestor was stunned speechless a moment. Thinking the learned Noldorin elf doubted him, Legolas hastened to justify his claim. "Natural meadows do not develop this way. Normally, the trees would have overtaken the empty space by now and that they haven't means the land is not the right composition to feed them. Other plants were there and the soil is depleted now. Only these grasses and wildflowers can find nourishment."

"You believe elves did live here?" Erestor at last found his voice.

"Yes. Have you never searched for artifacts left behind? People who till the land always leave other markers as well. I am sure we might find all manner of things there, just beneath the earth."

"What kinds of things?" The elder ellon was intrigued and caught the note of pride in the young ellon's voice. Legolas needed a means to feel worthy inside himself. His innate knowledge of the natural world was a logical topic through which the Wood Elf would shine and Erestor decided at once to employ it to fan that wavering inner light into brilliance. "I never thought to look for any signs such as you suggest."

"It depends on what elves were here," Legolas shrugged but scanned the vale more keenly, gratified to have a subject about which he was well-versed on which to expound. It was rather daunting to be in the presence of so many great people with only his prestige as Thranduil's son and the infamy of his desperate actions to put in the balance against his youth and inexperience. "I've seen something similar before, far to the south in Greenwood where my people no longer shelter. That region hasn't been inhabited since the fall of Amon Lanc and the land shows these same signs of over-use, thus I believe the elves were not sylvan and the settlement was abandoned long before Oropher's migration to Greenwood.

"This place was not colonised by Noldorin folk, for there would be deeper indentations where once stood houses of stone and wood. Telerin people, surely, but it is strange for we do not normally form agrarian communities. Such villages are too easily spotted and too difficult to defend. One raid of Orcs and an entire year's crops are ruined, houses burned, stores looted." He shook his head sadly. "That is probably why they did not stay."

"Nay," disagreed Erestor, "these must have been Avarin elves and this explains their fey nature." He found Legolas gazing at him quizzically. "What?"

"Avarin elves are not a race of people as are the Telerin and Noldorin and Vanyarin folk. They are just elves who did not want to go to Aman. They must represent all three races and I doubt they call themselves Avari," he said. He almost laughed at the astonishment in the elder's eyes and smiled, unconsciously straightening his stature and lifting his head.

"Incredible," said Erestor and meant it. "I have never considered what you just elucidated, though it makes perfect sense now that I hear you say it. I would love to know about the elves who first made Imladris home, but will it not disturb the land to go digging for relics?"

Again Legolas shrugged. "This land is already disturbed and altered severely. What we may do is minor in comparison. The people must have remained long here to so change the place."

"I wish I could see it through your eyes," announced Erestor, "for I confess I cannot detect these drastic changes. All looks serene and natural to me."

"That is only because you do not know the usual assembly of plants that would inhabit a meadow wrought by Yavanna's hands. In Greenwood I have seen such places, vacant due to felling of trees or fires. The trees always overtake the open land eventually and there is a specific progression of grasses, brush, shrubs, and finally trees. Shall we go down and examine your Avarin village?"

"Indeed!" Erestor laughed. "I am eager to learn if they were Telerin as you suspect."

"More likely they were of mixed descent," remarked Legolas as he leaped astride Emelin's back, "both Telerin and Noldorin."

"What, no Wood Elves?" joked Erestor and mounted up as well.

"Nay, surely not!" a huge grin overtook Legolas' features. "Sindarin, Galadhrim, Wood Elves, all these are but different names for arboreal Teleri occupying different places. The Faladhrim would not like it here either, so far from the seas." He considered a moment as they proceeded down the track. "It is fitting, for Imladris is a realm of many peoples even now. There are Noldorin folk and Sindarin folk and even Lindi, green elves, from Ossiriand, though most of those remain far to the north on the wooded coasts of Lindon. You have cultivated fields here now, do you not, Hîr Erestor, and a fine city with many smaller communities around it?"

"True, but stop calling me 'Hîr', if you please. You do not want me prefacing every utterance with 'Ernil Legolas', I'll warrant."

"Nay! I do not think of myself that way and I'd hardly know to whom you were speaking. Rammas is Ernil-en-Eringalen." His mouth shut tight upon completing the sentence and a dark burst of fire shot through the azure eyes, but he said no more and ignored Erestor's expression of mild surprise and curiosity. The clever assassin would not let it be, though.

"There is strife betwixt you and your brother," he said. "I did not mean to call it to your mind, but since it is now between us, I would speak of it openly." Erestor waited to see what reaction this might produce and was prepared for the prickly affront and withdrawal exhibited.

"I don't see why. Must my past ever be foremost in every conversation I undertake?"

"Certainly not and I did not mean to imply you should do so. I only wish to tell you that it is not something you need keep hidden in your heart, not with me. Should you desire an open ear to vent this anger building in your soul, I will gladly be your audience. A most discreet audience; in fact, I will be as stone for you."

"Stone? Stone does not feel and so I don't see how that can be, nor would I want an unfeeling friend. I confess I do not understand you, Erestor."

"It gladdens me to hear you name me friend, Legolas. I only meant that stones do not speak and so whatever you say to me will never be repeated. I am no healer and cannot pretend to understand the workings of the heart and soul as does Elrond, but I am a gifted listener. There, I have said it and we need not address the topic again unless you choose. I am here and I am your friend; as such, I am your staunch supporter in whatever you undertake, be that unleashing the demons of a conflicted faer or uncovering the remnants of an Avarin village."

Legolas was quiet as he considered this, not a little amazed to detect once more that winsome and wistful undertone in the assassin's voice, a softer inflection and gentler pitch. He could not deny it pleased him to hear it and this was even more confusing. Was he hoping for this elf to come to love him? If so, what could he offer in return if his heart belonged to Rammas. Mayhap it does not, not completely. Nay, that isn't true, either; I do love him no matter how angry I may be. Acknowledging that made him seethe with fury, knowing the feelings were not returned and, as he had begun to comprehend, that he had been used. He did not realise what a horrific scowl contracted his fair features and thus was unprepared for Erestor's contrite and doleful apology.

"Forgive me if I offended you; that was not my intent, Ernilen." Erestor mentally kicked himself; it was too soon to broach this topic and now he feared the prince would shut himself away in silent gloom once more.

"No," Legolas reached over and clasped the seneschal's arm. "I am the one who should ask forgiveness. Your friendship is generously given and I have permitted that very past I claim to want ignored to intrude upon it. Let us agree to seek for lighter topics and forgo that which can only drive away the joy such a day as this, such a place as this, and such company as this should bring. And I thought we agreed not to use though pretentious titles."

"Well said," smiled Erestor. They continued on in amiable silence and soon reached the daisy dotted meadow. Legolas dismounted and bent to take up a handful of earth, lifting it to his nose and rubbing it between his fingers. The seneschal joined him and waited for his evaluation.

"Aye, here were fields of plants for the harvesting of fibres: flax mostly and cotton, I think. We will find little artifacts beneath the roots. Bits of harness for oxen or metal buckles and clasps from the same. We will need to go into the trees to find the homes in which these people dwelled." Legolas stood and strode off toward the nearest stand of hardwoods, Erestor matching him stride for stride.

"How can you tell what manner of plant was cultivated here if none remain?" he asked, genuinely impressed by the Wood Elf's depth of understanding.

"Not all are gone," Legolas stopped and pointed out a straggling cluster of shrubby plants. "That is cotton; I have seen it growing in fields in the lands of Dale. Flax you surely know," he went on, gazing about to find a specimen. Erestor found it first and exclaimed aloud.

"There! Why did I fail to notice this before?"

"You were distracted by the flowers and the sense of peace residing here. The elves tried to repair the land ere they left it, but I do not think they knew how. They could not understand that the plants they needed could wear out the earth, thus I hold to what I said. They were Telerin folk, unused to an agrarian life. The land forgives them, though, and wishes they would return."

"Then what happened to them?" Erestor asked. He didn't know quite what to make of Legolas' deep connection to everything in nature, though Elrond had described his daily meditations and communion with Arda. He wondered if the sylvan realised what a unique gift this was, a connection as deep as any possessed among the Maiar, and answered himself in the negative. The seneschal found himself what had happened to Legolas to make him so lacking in self-esteem rather than pondering the fate of the unknown villagers.

"Who can say? Mayhap they made their way down to the ocean or over the mountains. My people claim there is a colony of sylvans living near the inland sea of Rhûn. These might have been their ancestors."

"I have heard those rumours but none have been able to locate that hidden realm," remarked Erestor. Suddenly he stopped and stooped down, retrieving a small, shiny disk faintly imprinted with a delicate design that might have been decorative or might have been words. He held it out for Legolas to see. "What do you make of this? I would say it is a coin save elves seldom engage in commerce that way."

"I cannot guess," Legolas took it and inspected the worn surface. "It is not silver entirely else it would have tarnished, but there is surely silver in it. It could be a coin. Everything we find will be a mystery and it is best not to assign these objects a name and purpose until we learn more." He handed it back, smiling, sharing the eager excitement Erestor transmitted. "We must mark that place where it lay so to inspect the area further." So saying he took out his handkerchief and searched for a stick to tie it to, thrusting this into the soil where the object had been found.

"Surely it has been moved by time and the elements. That cannot be its original resting place."

"Maybe so, but maybe time and the elements have merely uncovered it, having first buried it Ages ago, and this is where it fell or was dropped by one of the inhabitants of this village." He gave the artifact back. "The first remnant of these people, who abandoned so fair a place for realms unknown. The honour of the initial find goes to you, Erestor, as it should since you discovered the location itself," he grinned and moved on, scanning the ground as he went.

"Nasan. (So be it)" Erestor joined him and they reached the woods without recovering anything more, but once beneath the limbs Legolas halted, pointing to one of the trees, all of which were very old, yet this one was clearly more ancient and venerable. Indeed, the Wood Elf actually bowed low and did not encroach further for a time, seeking that variety of communion with the great oak particular to the sylvans, until at last he smiled at the seneschal.

"This is the place and here is the very tree where these people would meet to hold gatherings and meetings of every sort. A blessing is the bond between the First-born of Iluvatar and the first-born of Yavanna, for these elves imparted some of the Music of their souls to this tree, enabling it to survive far past its natural life. Now, with the added power of Elrond's ring, Doroniaur may never perish until all the elves have left Middle-earth. She bids us welcome and is glad for us to learn of her 'hen pannen' (walking children), but begs we will not dig about too deeply here near her roots. It was an important community once; perhaps we will find something of great beauty and refinement even to rival that golden flask of yours, Erestor."

"Ah, this?" Erestor brought forth the small canteen again, marvelling anew at Legolas' unconscious insight. "In a manner of speaking, it is a relic, too, of my days in Gondolin. Great beauty, indeed, would an object need to present to compare favourably with anything from that lost realm."

"You were at Gondolin?" Legolas halted and gaped at the seneschal, eyes scanning his face and form as though there ought to be some noticeable sign of the ancient city lingering there. His scrutiny again made Erestor uncomfortable so that he turned away from the gaze as he answered.

"I was born there." His tone and demeanour bore a melancholy caste and Legolas, attuned since childhood to monitoring the moods of those around him, squelched his curiosity, not wishing to force the ellon to recall that which must be painful.

The pair resumed their walk in silence and began their investigation, defining the bounds of the settlement after an hour's painstaking inspection of the woods. It was smaller than Erestor would have thought considering the size of the fields they'd crossed, yet Legolas opined that they would probably find this but one enclave and that the actual village was a cluster of such home sites rimming the cultivated gardens.

Erestor wondered if the separation denoted different family groups or if it was due to race and custom, with Noldor apart from Telerin folk. Legolas held that the designation was according to clan groups, the people thrown together and mingled much as the sylvans and the Sindar were now. The discussion cleared the air between them, for Erestor resumed his normal attitude, and neither cared for the passing of time, so much greater was the sense of enjoyment in their task and the gradual acknowledgement of the accord growing between them. Finally, Erestor proudly called Legolas over to his greatest find: a well.

So deftly delved and properly supported was the shaft that the earth had not closed over the hole. Around it was a ring of stones carried up from the river bed several leagues away. No doubt there had been a fine structure here complete with a means for retrieving the water at the bottom, which shimmered and winked at the elves when they bent low over the rim. Smiling together, they sat upon the grass and surveyed the place from this vantage.

"You possess all the attributes of a most resourceful spy, based on your ability to ferret out so pivotal a location so quickly," laughed Legolas.

"Oh, did I neglect to mention that is one of my chief responsibilities here?" rejoined the seneschal. "I am often gone from the valley, slinking stealthily through the Enemy's secret lairs, gathering intelligence upon which Glorfindel and his brave warriors base their manoeuvres."

"I believe you," averred Legolas, grinning.

"Yet what is so significant about a well?" Erestor guided the conversation back to the villagers. "It is necessary, this I see, yet surely there are other objects and sites more demonstrative of the culture that devised them."

"Perhaps, but there is much to learn here beneath the soil. How the water was drawn forth, for instance. Is the mechanism a simple winch and pulley or some sort of pump? Did the folk bear the water away in earthen jars or transport it via chutes and pipes? All of these things will reveal much about the folk who called this place home."

"Of course," Erestor nodded and smiled. "You seem to have done this before," he observed.

"Aye, though the culture was not ancient," Legolas admitted freely. "In my Adar's stronghold are many abandoned places, some deep beneath the earth. Often as a child I would go exploring there. In one section I found a place where the dwarves who delved the fortress had lived during their work. I learned much about the Anfangrim by what they left behind."

"That seems a dismal and dangerous playground for an elfling." Erestor stared at the woodland prince with something like horror. "I have no love of caves and holes in the ground."

"Nor do I, any more." Legolas' gaze turned inward and he shivered, recalling the time when his joyful meandering amid the labyrinth ended. He'd somehow taken a wrong turning and became lost, and while he was not so young as to be reduced to panic and terror, still it took him two days to find the way again and his torch had long since died, his small pack emptied of food and water. The damage to his health was much less serious than the knowledge that no one had noticed his absence, for Rammas had been out on patrol and never learned of it. Without even really considering it, Legolas poured out this story to Erestor and was immediately comforted to feel the weight of the seneschal's hand upon his shoulder.

"That is an unhappy memory," he said, "a burden each and every one of the First-born is destined to carry. The grief and sorrow afflicting us all spawns the same in those we would most hope to shield from it. I am certain your Adar would never have allowed you to even go into those caves, much less fail to note your absence, had he been well and strong. His love for you is evident." He gave a firm squeeze ere he withdrew his hold. Truly, he was scandalised by the account and saw more clearly how Legolas' natural dignity could become so eroded that life itself became unbearable, nor did he miss the importance of Rammas' place in the tale.

"Aye, this I know," Legolas smiled his thanks for the kind words.
No speech passed between them as the serenity of the glade surrounded them once more and lent each an abiding sense of belonging. Again recognition of their deepening friendship became foremost in their hearts and Erestor felt the time was right to speak of it. Indeed, the prince's sudden revelation of such personal events demanded it.

"Legolas, I know you have no wish to discuss the cause that made you seek the realm of Námo, yet there is that which I would say and that which I would hear you answer," he intoned gravely, watching the clear blue eyes fill with wary dread.

"What would you have me say?" Legolas demanded, disappointed for he had so enjoyed simply having a friend and doing normal things, for the most part free of thoughts of death or of Rammas. That this was true surprised him and it showed.

"Tell me what you're thinking now," urged Erestor and drew near, reaching out to cover Legolas' hand where it rested on the turf.

"Oh!" Legolas felt heat rising in his cheeks but did not withdraw from the contact. "I was just amazed that while we've been here, I barely thought of Rammas nor have I felt the pull toward Mandos a bit."

"That is good!" cried Erestor, deeply gratified and encouraged, while simultaneously concerned over the inescapable relevance of Thranduil's elder son in Legolas' life. A suspicion began to work its way into his thoughts that increased his dislike of Greenwood's Crowned Prince. "Then it is wise for me to speak frankly with you."

"About what?" Legolas pulled away, fearing he already knew the topic of this conversation. "I would rather you did not. Must the day's end become as was the noon? Please, I have not been as easy in my own skin in many months as I have been in these few hours."

"It heartens me to hear it," assured Erestor, "nor have I any wish to ruin such peace and contentment. Rather, I would prefer to be the cause for many more such hours for you, Legolas. That is why this talk is necessary."

Legolas sighed heavily and it was plain to see the weight of his guilt, anger, and sorrow gathering over his spirit. Erestor almost gave in, yet he was wise and genuinely desired to help the young prince overcome his grief. He named his terms boldly.

"Hear me through and then consider all I say before answering. It is vital lest I would not insist so strongly, Legolas."

"Nasan," groaned Legolas, shoulders slumping as he lowered his face atop his hands.

"You know there is no need to perish from grieving sickness, do you not?"

"Aye." The single syllable was curt and cutting but Legolas kept his head down.

"Then the method of achieving this cure is also known to you?"

"It is," he ground the words out and shifted in discomfort. He really did not want to speak of this. "I cannot undergo that therapy."

"So have others believed who were deep in the grip of the sickness," said Erestor calmly. "Yet I have seen it work and so have you. Your own Adar is living proof of the effectiveness of this cure, as is my kinsman, Elrond."

"You would have me dishonour the bond I cherish most," Legolas spat, countenance lifting as he trained furious eyes upon the seneschal. "In doing so I would also dishonour myself. How is this fitting? Is it not damning enough to endure this despicable fading death? Denied the dignity of a warrior's passing, now you expect me to make use of another to rid myself of that bond, not caring if such use might damage another heart as well. How is this just and good?"

"No one asks this of you," stated Erestor. "A true bond need not be sundered, nor would those joined by a true bond remain unforgiving of the means to salvage a cherished mate. Do you suppose those sundered by death long to have the living partner join them in Mandos? Do you count your Adar dishonourable or your Naneth defamed because he lives?"

"Nay, I know Ada still loves and cherishes Nana," Legolas scowled and squirmed uncomfortably. It was something he tried not to think about too much. He'd been so happy to have his Adar become a part of his life at last that he'd steadfastly refused to contemplate how it had come to be. At least, not overly much. That Galion was long beloved as his guardian had made acceptance much easier.

He heaved another aggrieved sigh and flashed the Noldorin lord a glance. Erestor was waiting patiently, his eyes awash in commiseration and remorse for forcing the unpalatable discussion. Legolas was immediately moved to ease the conscience of this ellon who had showed him such friendship and spoke before quite realising what he said. "I will hear your words, Erestor. Know that I realise your intention is to do me good. Yet, what do you propose here? Are you to be my…my paramour?"

"Such is the notion of Elrond and he is a wise healer; thus, his recommendations ought not to be discounted. I have been successful in this endeavour in the past and that is why he thinks it best." Erestor presented this as simply as he could, finding no benefit in hedging the truth in genteel speech. As expected, Legolas was shocked to hear the actual words and scrambled to his feet, staring upon the seneschal, a mixture of curiosity and anxiety warring within his eyes. Erestor rose as well.

"You have done this before?" the prince blurted out. "What of your own heart, Erestor? Have none of these salvaged souls remained dear to you?"

"I have done it once and the person is indeed dear to me and I to him, though the bond we share is no longer the intimate one of mates or lovers," Erestor explained. "We remain as we were before his bout with grief: staunch friends, allies, and kinsmen."

"Kinsmen!" Legolas gasped, thoughts reeling as the implications of this became clear. "You and Elrond?" He was dumbfounded, uncertain whether to admire the assassin or shun him, whether it was right to become a kinsman's lover for the sake of saving him or whether it was atrocious.

"Aye. It was after Celebrian left, of course, and Elrond was fading. The desire to go with her had been so strong, but he did not do so on account of his promise to Gil-galad. That she counted a great betrayal. Enmity came between them at the end and she cursed their bond, saying she desired it no longer. She gave back her wedding band and went to Aman with the clear intent of starting life anew, should her soul be healed of the torments she endured. Elrond was devastated. The idea that he had traded her for Vilya, which were her last words to him, ate away at his spirit. Had I not intervened he would have perished within a year."

"That is terrible," Legolas was shaking his head over the chilling tale. "How did you convince him to put aside his natural feelings for Celebrian?" he could not help but ask, curiosity overcoming manners.

"I didn't," answered Erestor bluntly and then stood silent, arms crossed over his chest, daring Legolas to ask him. The prince took the challenge, again bending to the inquisitive nature all elves possessed.

"Well, then, how did you become his lover and affect this cure, for surely he is well and whole now?"

"I had help," said Erestor. "His sons aided me by drugging him with herbs and strong wine. I carried him off to the place we'd arranged for the tryst and managed the rest on my own. We kept him nearly unconscious for almost a week while I worked to rejuvenate his spirit, and when I deemed him capable of accepting the truth, we brought him out of the fog."

"Valar! What happened then?"

"He nearly killed me," Erestor snorted with grim mirth, "and in the effort to do so suddenly came to realise he had no wish to hurt me. Indeed, he found he loved me as much as he ever had Celebrian. We reconciled and were paired for many years, centuries." He fell silent as memories claimed his attention and Legolas thought he detected a fleeting shadow of sorrow and loss passing through the cool grey eyes. Then the bold assassin grinned and shrugged. "We are only close friends now. He healed and had no further need of the comfort of our union."

"And you?" Legolas asked, voice gentler than a summer breeze. "Does your soul no longer crave that union? Is desire so indifferent?"

Now Erestor turned away, unable to hold that clear blue gaze, for somehow Legolas had seen the wounds his heart had taken then. "I am happy he is well and whole," he offered, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from his tone. "Desire is not indifferent, Legolas, but I do not long for him that way now."

"Yet you did, for a time, after he was no longer moved to join with you," Legolas said softly. He drew close and settled a comforting hand upon the tall ellon's shoulder, touched by his sacrifice and the price he had paid to aid his cousin. "Your heart is strong and noble, but I wonder if it is prepared for another such rejection. I would not harm you thus; another way must be found."

Erestor turned to him in surprise and gripped the young ellon at the biceps, smiling in appreciation for such considerate words. The idea drifted through his thoughts that he would indeed be destroyed by such rejection from Legolas, but he pushed it aside. "Here is another noble heart," he said, pressing his palm against the Wood Elf's chest, "and it must not be permitted to falter and fade. What I propose is not a union with me, but with Elrond himself, pen neth."

Legolas' eyes popped wide and he stepped out of Erestor's light embrace. "With Elrond?" he stuttered. That he had not expected. "How so if he is well, for now he must think only of joining his wife when at last he leaves for Aman. Am I to drug him with wine and woo him as you did?"

"Nay, I would not have you endure that," laughed Erestor darkly, "nor are you healthy enough to manage it just now. You are right, too, to say he is consumed by this false hope of reunion. She was serious in her actions and has dissolved that bond. Whatever Elrond may wish, Celebrian will not be there to greet him on the shores of Eldamar. I would have him face that reality with a strong ally beside him. I believe you would be an excellent companion for him and he would come to love you dearly; so dearly he would not be searching for her face when the two of you cross the sea. Already he finds your beauty and grace compelling, though he will continue to resist the attraction as long as possible."

"I know not what to answer," murmured Legolas, thoughts whirling with all he had heard. He did feel drawn to the great healer, but had considered this more the kind of respect and admiration he tendered to his Ada than to a potential lover.

Then again, he had not permitted himself to envision anyone as a potential lover, save Rammas. Yet, that was not exactly right either, for had he not already pondered Erestor's interest in him and found it pleased him? Unwittingly, his eyes traversed the virile male before him and the examination prompted a quickening of his pulse. Erestor was attractive, alluring, and possessed of a mysterious, commanding presence. Legolas blinked, blushing over these thoughts, and found himself hopelessly befuddled by his reactions to the seneschal's proposal.

"You need not answer now. As I said, I want you to consider all this carefully before you come to a decision," Erestor continued, glad beyond telling to note that the young prince was no longer protesting against the idea of being cured of grief by this method. Now it was only a matter of who would be the physician to undertake the healing that consumed his thoughts. This was progress indeed and he was relieved, for approaching Legolas so directly was surely not in Elrond's plans. But then again, neither is marking Elrond as the paramour part of his design.

The seneschal felt his heart jump, seeing the open appreciation overtaking Legolas' features as he was evaluated frankly, a pang of regret following it. Part of him hoped the young warrior would reject the plan and choose him instead, but he believed the course he'd outlined was best for all concerned and would not turn from it now.

"I will think on it," agreed Legolas, "and discuss it with Adar, if you do not object."

"Nay, I was going to counsel you to do so."

"Nasan. You will have my answer in six days' time."

No more did they say on the subject nor did they continue their studies of the abandoned home-site, the day being far advanced. Unwilling to worry Thranduil unduly, both agreed to resume the archaeological investigation on the morrow and returned to the Last Homely House.

TBC

The Names:

RAMMAS: Wall

TALAGAN: Harper

MUINDORADAR: Uncle (brother-father)

FORN'WAEW: North Wind

SAMMAR: Neighbour

GILION: Star Son

Note: A little longer than most chapters for this tale, but I wanted to spend some time developing the friendship between Erestor and Legolas, with its undertones of mutual attraction. Is Legolas' response to the seneschal based on that subconsciously registered comment when first Erestor saw him? Even I am not entirely sure anymore. Hope this was not boring stuff.

Disclaimer: Main characters and settings originally created by JRR Tolkien. Just for fun, no money earned. OC's and story are erobey's.
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Fractured Light

Erestor's Proposition

Disclaimer: Main characters and settings originally created by JRR Tolkien. Just for fun, no money earned. OC's and story are erobey's.