Renewal

Renewal

The endless rain of flower petals and laughter was beginning to irritate Elphir beyond the realm of rational thought. He was as glad as any other that the Ring war was finally over, and he no longer had to serve on his father’s ships, but did the Gondorian people have to blare trumpets so constantly? One would think that they had never heard of the term ‘decorum’ before. Rolling his eyes, he shook the brass ringing sound out of his head and stepped out of his bedroom.

The moment he did however, he was swamped with a flying mound of red satin and pearls in the guise of his sister. Lotheriel hugged him, laughingly telling him that if he were to lie abed all day he would miss the excitement of the festival on the fifth ring. Another festival, Elphir groaned silently. Another which his father no doubt expected him to attend, while the ladies of Gondor’s court simpered at flirted for his attention. No doubt their own fathers had told them how lucky they were to be faced with the opportunity to attract the eye of one of Dol Amroth’s princes. At times like that, Elphir wished for nothing more than a large stick to beat in the heads of the fat merchants and their overly forward daughters. Being forced to be respectful and polite to doddering fools and flattering brats was one thing, but having to face the fact that to most of the Gondorian court he was nothing but a bull in market was another.

“Oh brother, tell me you are not going to wear that old thing again? Elphir why is it that you must be so old fashioned? Every time you go down to greet the common people you always dress so formally. Do you not ever let up even once?” Lotheriel asked him playfully. Ten years younger than him, his little sister had been cloistered during the war and had not felt anything near the full brunt. Had she been forced into the army as he had, Elphir had no doubt in his mind that she would not be nearly as cheerful or concerned about silk and pearls.

“I dress as I choose, and I act as I choose. I believe I have earned that right have I not Lotheriel? I have wasted so much of my life doing nothing but fight, fight and kill and…” Elphir trailed off, suddenly very tired. “Lotheriel, I am tired. I do not wish to go to the festival with you; I wish to rest. Would you mind horribly if you went by yourself? I can arrange an escort if you require one.” Elphir closed his eyes before opening them to see his sister’s hand on his shoulder, a serious gaze facing his.

Elphir, if you do not wish to celebrate no one will force you. I had only hoped to take you mind off your troubles. You stay up here in your rooms for so long, brother. There is never any happiness in you eyes, no smile on your face. Father and I are worried for you Elphir. It isn’t…” Lotheriel trailed off before looking down. “It isn’t healthy.” She added softly. Wrapping her arms around her brother one last time she hugged him tightly, burning the feel of him into her mind before slipping out the door and leaving him to his wanted solitude.

Closing his eyes once more, the son of Imrahil bent his head against the cool stone wall and let his mind wander. It was true that he had not truly let himself release the pent up tension of army life, even after the King had been crowned. In truth he did not know how to anymore. Long ago, a lifetime ago it seemed, he had gone to the Dol Amroth taverns with his friends; drinking and singing sea songs while their ships were being repaired from mercenary attacks. That had been over a decade ago when he had been young and there had still been a naïve hope that he and his friends would come out of the war unscathed. They had been fools.

He had heard the whispers, of how the youngest child of Imrahil kept to himself. How he refused the favours of noblemen’s daughters and had a tongue sharper than his sword. Elphir knew that he kept to the old ways, that even his father had chided him about being too rigid for one so young. How many times had it been now that the words “go out and enjoy what youth you have left” rung out from his lord father’s lips? There had been untold times when his sister had tried to drag him out to dances and festivals, trying to introduce him to her friends in the hopes that one day she would attend his wedding. All her efforts had been fruitless however, as Elphir had been too formal and unbending to truly enjoy the ladies of the court. Shaking his head at his stupidity of leaving his sister alone, he left his room in search of her. Sometimes Lotheriel shouldn’t be left alone, for who knew what mischief she could get up to.

“My lady, is there a reason why one as beautiful as you are frowning? Why are you so sad when you should be celebrating the beginning of a new age?” Glorfindel looked down at the small dark haired woman who had sat quietly in the corner of the room. He had seen her before, and she had always been smiling and laughing with the other mortals. This time however, she had isolated herself in solitude with a quiet sombre expression. Curious at the sudden difference, he had approached her and inquired.

Lotheriel looked up at the tall golden elf. Not three days ago she had been in awe of the pale, slender beings but when she had been introduced to the new Queen awe had fallen away to a great abiding respect. Now as she sat looking at the golden stranger, she gave a watery smile and bowed her head. “There is no need to trouble you with my problems, lord. They are nothing to worry over. Please, enjoy yourself at the banquet for you are correct in that here is much to celebrate.” Hugging herself she shrugged. “Do no let my sadness ruin your night.”

Now it was the elf’s turn to fro“But“But surely there is something that is causing you such unhappiness, and I would wish you to smile again. Tell me what the problem is, if you would lady, and let me try to help you.” Sad grey eyes met concerned green ones as the lady looked at him for a long moment before nodding slightly. “You see my lord, it is my brother. His name is Elphir.”

Elphir paused before opening the door to the ballroom. Just getting out of his room had been a surprisingly difficult task, and it was becoming apparent to him why his family had become increasingly concerned. He could not remember the last time he had decided on his own to socialise with others. It was true, when his ship had sank and most of his men had been drowned or cut down he had despaired. When he and his father had led the knights of Dol Amroth to their deaths at the black gate he had felt a cold mist wrap itself around his heart. But when the Halflings succeeded where the might of the armies of men could not in throwing down the dark lord, he had merely felt light headed and empty, not joining the resounding cheer that emanated from the surviving force.

“There has been no joy for him, my lord elf.” Lotheriel said. “I know that it has been a long hard battle for my kinsmen, and that I had no part in it myself. But father and Amroth have both recovered from their grief. They are here at the party, drinking with their friends and singing over lost comrades. All attend except Elphir, who sits in his room and dwells only on death. I do not know how to help him, or how to make him see how happy he can be. My lord?”

Lord Glorfindel closed his eyes, listening to the young woman’s words. He knew what she spoke of, knew very well. How long had it been when he had wandered Arda after being first reawakened? There had been no colours for him when he had found out that Eregion had fallen and his lover Ecthelion had died in hideous pain. He had been alone, and had dwelt only on the pain of living. Yes, he knew what this young man was suffering from only too well. Opening his eyes he looked down at the woman and smiled. He would help her brother, and himself in the process; and he knew just how to do it too.

The Dol Amroth prince stopped dead at the sight of a blond elf sitting next to his sister. Who was this warrior to get so close to a princess of his realm, and did he have any idea that to do so was to be far more than familiar? Granted, she had sat even closer to many men before, but not one so… Elphir took a step back. That elf’s hair must have been spun from solid gold to get such a colour! He spotted Lotheriel staring at him and the golden haired creature turned around to face him. Locking eyes, the man froze to the spot.

Glorfindel smiled as the young man stopped dead. He had gotten that reaction from many young women, and indeed several young men as well. Mischief danced in his eyes, as a strange and exciting idea danced in his head. He had bedded one of the Rohirrim women, and a Gondorian man. Erestor had spoken sharply to him about his trying to get a taste of what every country had to offer, and Glorfindel had responded that it was because Erestor never bought him boxes of sweets anymore. The resulting verbal battle had been well worth it. He had yet to try a taste of Dol Amroth flesh though, Glorfindel reflected.

Elphir stood still as the elf got up from the table and sauntered over to him, smiling. “You are Prince Elphir, are you not? Your sister has been telling me of your bravery. I hold you in great esteem, your highness. Tell me, how are you enjoying the newfound peace?” Clasping the offered hand, he murmured a thank you, and searched his mind for a polite response when the clasped hand suddenly turned into a one armed hug.

“I am lord Glorfindel, of Imladris. Have you met Lady Arwen? I am with the wedding party for her father is my liege lord.” Glorfindel squeezed the young man closer to him, not at all surprised when the prince stiffened and squirmed. That was to be expected, and anticipated for later on. Rubbing the young man’s shoulder, he grinned at the lady and then winked. “Let us go for a walk, Prince Elphir. I wish to know the heir of Dol Amroth better.”

Lotheriel beamed as the two lords walked away in the direction of the royal gardens. Just to see Elphir look startled and confused was far better than the dead, lost look that had began to hang in his eyes. She hoped that the elf lord had been right, and that he could help her ber rer remember how happy he used to be. Whatever it took, she would welcome any change in Elphir that would return her brother back to her.

Elphir was not exactly sure what was going on; he had started walking over to the elf intent on telling him to keep his distance from his sister. That had suddenly changed into having Lord Glorfindel’s arm around his shoulder and his head next to his. It was strange to say the least, and despite thinking hard on the matter, he still could not pinpoint how exactly he had gotten into this situation. The fact that the elf’s arm had now shifted to wrap around his waist didn’t aid matters; indeed it made Elphir feel uncomfortably warm and flushed. Glorfindel was admittedly handsome and it had been some time since he had last indulged himself.

Glorfindel grinned as he watched the young man shift under his arm. Already the young prince had blushed a rather beautiful shade of pink, though he did not think that Elphir was aware of it. The young man had taken him by surprise, for even the golden lord of Imladris had not expected him to be so withdrawn. Nevertheless, he had full faith in his abilities to tease the young one out of his shell. “Tell me Elphir, the ladies tell me that you do not return their favours, why is that?”

The prince stopped walking at the question and slowly turned his head towards the elf. Granted, Glorfindel was a lord in his own right and should be highly respected; so should Elphir however. “I hardly see how that would concern you, Lord Glorfindel.” Elphir replied coolly, displaying every inch of royal backbone in his voice. When he tried to move away from the lord however, the soft warm arm became an iron bar holding him against the immortal creature. Unsettled, the prince met the elf’s eyes and was stunned at the gentle understanding held there. The iron bar softened, yet pushed Elphir closer to him until their bodies brushed against each other. “It concerns me that you are trying to run away from life, when now of all times you should be celebrating the existence of it. Elphir, do you not realise how close we all came to destruction?”

The man tore his eyes away and stared at the floor. “How can I not when the dead follow me in my dreams, when they haunt my steps? I lost so many of my men who were under my command; and now when I turn to mourn them I find that there are festivals on every street. What has happened to the old ways of solemnity and grief? Why this gaiety when our dead are even now freshly buried?” Elphir glared at Glorfindel, who now was softly rubbing the small of the man’s back with his hand.

Unknowingly, Elphir leaned back against the elf which confirmed a question that had been silently running through Glorfindel’s mind. “Elphir, do you not know how to let go? Mellon nin, it has been five weeks, and from what your sister tells me your men died months ago. You must let them go, for yourself if not for them.” So, this was the sticking point. Elphir had immersed himself in old tradition and celibacy in order to mourn for his fallen comrades. Misguided, but a good hearted attempt to do good by his men. Smiling, Glorfindel hugged the young man who tensed before leaning his head on the immortal’s shoulder.

“It is difficult to let go of things that you love, Elphir. But wrapping yourself in loneliness and hiding is hardly fair to those who died. Let me show you, let me be the one who can bring you back to the world. Do you trust me Elphir?” Daring greatly, Glorfindel cupped the prince’s head and gently pressed a soft kiss to the centre of the man’s forehead. “It is time to let go of your dead friends and enjoy life. Will you let me show you?” A very hesitant nod was his response.

He had no idea why he had nodded, but deep inside himself Elphir realised that his actions were destroying him. His lack of appetite had made him drop weight far more quickly than was healthy, his nightmares keeping him awake and restless throughout the night. Despite his earlier thoughts, he could see that Glorfindel was not doing this out of cruelty. The elf did not dig up old wounds to view them, merely held the human in his arms as cold tears soaked into the immortal’s robes. Elphir nuzzled Glorfindel’s neck, seeking the comfort offered there and was rewarded with another kiss on his hair. “Glorfindel?” He murmured softly. “Aye penneth?” Was the lord’s husky reply. “Will you spend the night with me tonight? Will you be with me?” Another kiss bestowed, this time on his mouth was the answer.

The night was a sweet one, filled with soft words and touches; and in the morning raised not only the son but a renewed prince of Dol Amroth as well.