Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

The Bitter Glass	By : Massanie Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2220 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Title: The Bitter Glass

Series: The Bitter Glass

Sequel to:

Characters: Elrond/Glorfindel, Elrond/Celebrían, Erestor, Elladan, Elrohír, Arwen, Galadriel, Celeborn, Melpomaen, Lindir

Rating: M

Warnings: violence, AU, mentioned child abuse

Beta: oli…x

Disclaimer: Sadly, the only thing I own is the plot but none of the characters or places in it… they are all Tolkien's and of course I'm not earning any money with this.

Original summary:Time heals not every wound, but every wound needs time to heal. If only we could stop looking at the past.

CHAPTER 1: Ithilion

Gaze no more in the bitter glass.

Beloved, gaze in thine own heart,

The holy tree is growing there;

From joy the holy branches start,

And all the trembling flowers they bear.

Elrond looked at the solemn youth before him, thinking to himself that the quiet darkling was the night's impersonation: midnight black hair, skin as pale and shining as moonlight; his dark silver eyes glimmered like stars with an intelligence beyond his young age. Yet he was cold like a lonely winter night, his face completely devoid of emotions, a carefully attached mask that did not suit one so young in Elrond's opinion.

"And you want him to be your assistant?"

The older elf standing before Imladris' Lord only nodded and smiled. He was a tall elf with hazel hair and eyes that constantly seemed to sparkle with humour or mischief. Lord Dírhael was one of those elves who only needed to enter a room to brighten the mood considerably. They said him to be able to befriend any dwarf. Elrond seriously doubted that - but there was no denying, that his chief advisor was able to talk nearly anyone into nearly anything with his smile.

A convincing smile of that kind was now directed towards the lord of Imladris - and he hated it.

Elrond sighed. "I can´t allow that. He is obviously underage. I'm sorry."

"I am far older than I look: I will reach my maturity within the decade and it is a widely accepted fact, that an elf does not undergo great steps in development in such a short time - physically and emotionally.

Furthermore I enjoyed a very good education and if I might be so blunt, my skills and knowledge in humanities and science are far better than common at my age."

Elrond blinked and then informed the child in front of him, that this still made him a minor, whom to employ was *illegal*. Dírhael only pursed his lips to keep himself from laughing at his lord's expression, then turned towards his charge and before Erestor could go on, he interfered softly. "Would you wait outside for a moment, please?"

The youth looked up to the chief advisor, gave a curt nod and swiftly exited the room while Elrond still stared at him, one eyebrow raised in irritation.

Dírhael sat down in front of his lord and friend's desk, his smile slowly fading into seriousness.

"Elrond, I realize that I am asking a great favour of you, but I beg you to let Erestor stay here and unofficially help me a little bit. I don´t ask you to employ him full-time." He paused, seeking eye contact with his lord and friend.

"But he cannot go back to where he hails from. I promised not to reveal the details, but his life was not a good one so far."

Elrond quirked an eyebrow, letting his advisor know that he would not let him off the hook that easily.

"He is from Mirkwood, and yes I am absolutely aware of the difficulties" Dírhael added, when his Lord was about to interject.

"But I have friends there. Some border guards who once saved my elongated spine from getting eaten by spiders. I trust them Elrond, they are good people. Every time I visit Mirkwood, I spend at least one week with them, if they can afford it."

"The same border guards, who accompanied your young friend to Imladris?"

"If you knew his origins all along, why didn't you comment on it earlier?" The advisor asked in bewilderment.

The Lord of Imladris smiled slyly. "I wanted to see if my trustworthy chief advisor deemed it an important enough fact to tell me."

Said advisor only grumbled ill-humoured and Elrond laughed quietly.

"I am impressed though. Had I not seen them entering Imladris that day, I wouldn't have noticed without you telling me. He has no accent at all."

"I know ... it's a curious thing ... most of Thranduil's people do not bother to hide their accent. But it shows his good upbringing."

Dírhael waited some moments. He did not want to betray the young one's trust but he needed to tell Elrond what happened.

"Thalion said that his unit found Erestor in the woods. He had no food with him, not even a water flask. No weapons. Nonetheless he had successfully made his way to Mirkwood's boarders alive and unscathed and without being noticed so far.

He was sleeping on a tree when they came upon him.

He must have been very afraid and pleaded with them not to send him back and Thalion, being the elf he is, immediately took Erestor under his wing. And the others ... well, most of them are related in one way or another, or very close friends. So they all kind of adopted him ... They call him 'tôr' or 'rusc'." Dírhael smiled at the thought of calling the dark youngster 'fox'.

"Thalion managed to make Erestor tell him his story and decided that Erestor could not stay in Mirkwood, so they brought him to me and told me what his family did to him."

Dírhael halted, seemingly not inclined to reveal more details. He leaned back in his arm chair, folding his hands in his lap while encountering his lord's raised eyebrow with a calm gaze.

"You know I can't let him stay with my chief advisor all day, seeing and hearing everything. There are ..."

"Oh, all right." Dírhael sighed dramatically, then he continued, seeking eye contact with his lord.

"His mother drowned in the Enchanted River soon after giving birth to him and since no one knew the identity of his father Erestor lived with his mother's relatives."

Elrond watched his friend closely. The usual mirthful advisor leaned back in his chair, his hazel eyes so full of sadness directed towards the large windows facing Imladris beautiful gardens. Restlessly they roamed over the landscape as if he was searching something there, searching for words to describe what was too despicable to describe.

He settled for telling the facts.

"They abused him. His uncle and his cousins did."

Elrond was perceptive enough to understand that Erestor's relatives had done more than simply beating the youth up. The way Dírhael said those words, the way he looked ...

"They violated him?" In his shock Elrond raised his words, earning a glare from his advisor and immediately he lowered his voice.

"I'm sorry ... They violated him? If that is true, he has to tell us their names. Such a crime cannot go unpunished! I can contact Thranduil and ..."

Dírhael only shook his head. "He won't tell. I've tried to convince him. But he only told me his uncle held an important position in Thranduil's court and no one would believe him. He is terribly afraid that his uncle might find him. All Erestor wants is to stay here. And I would like to help him."

"All the worse if the culprits hold important positions. Thranduil has to learn about this."

Dírhael wrung his hands in frustration "You will not get him to talk."

Both elves became engrossed in their own thoughts and silence settled between them. Long moments passed while Dírhael waited for his friend's decision in the matter. Elrond on the other side contemplated every possibility to ensure that Erestor's relatives got their just deserts.

Finally Dírhael quietly intercepted Elrond's musing. "He is one of the most intelligent elves I've ever met. True, he is not really modest ..."

A gentle, almost fond smile played on the advisors lips, earning him an amused snort from his lord.

"... but he is a gentle being. Not with foreign elves, but you should have seen how he handled my horse Carnil - or how Carnil handled him, I don't really know." He chuckled. "And Erestor is truly bright and he wants to learn. He is interested in everything he sees. He is versed in history – as much as one can be who has not seen it with his own eyes! He knows the basics of how to play the harp and the flute, he has some skill in phytology and I am absolutely positive, if you just give him the chance, he will be a great diplomat and economist as well as an architect and healer."

Elrond raised both hands and eyebrows to stop his chief advisor. "Oh Dírhael! He is neither one of the Maiar nor some higher being. And I have my doubts with him being a diplomat. None of his skills seem to include social abilities or courteousness."

Again silence settled between the two friends. Elrond watched his advisor. Dírhael was reliable and intelligent and he would normally trust him with his children's life. But in this matter he could not stop himself from doubting his friend's opinion.

If a youth like Erestor had been violated he would surely be showing signs of the Elven sickness - maybe fading signs, barely visible, but still...

"Call him in; we'll see if he lies."

Dírhael looked to the door. He was a little bit nervous. He didn't doubt the young one, but Erestor seemed to have the ability to offend everyone he spoke with. Though he would have liked to avoid this situation, Erestor would now have to deal with Elrond's curiosity as a healer.

"Will you examine him?" Hearing the hesitation in Dírhael's voice, Elrond raised an eyebrow. He would do nothing to hurt the youth and his friend had always trusted him so far. That Dírhael didn't want Erestor to speak with him directly raised his interest further - and his mistrust.

"Superficially at least. But I promise to keep his past in mind, so will you please call him in?"

Dírhael stood sighing and walked to the door but as his hands reached for the doorknob, he hesitated again.

"Elrond, he is admittedly not very courteous, but I hope you will not hold his directness against him." The advisor looked at Elrond, seeking eye-contact.

"Sometimes, directness is a welcome change, my friend, and nothing I would hold anyone accountable for."

Dírhael murmured something unintelligible and opened the door, revealing a small anteroom, where Erestor sat, totally upright with his hands folded in his lap. The young one looked up, trying to read the advisor's face. "The decision is not yet made, am I correct? Shall I come in again?"

The older elf observed his charge. The young elf still seemed devoid of emotions, but his hands slightly shook, betraying his nervousness. Dírhael sighed sadly. He was sure that his charge would be allowed to stay. But he did not know if he could stay with him.

"Yes, please. Come in, pen neth."

Erestor looked back down to his hands and frowned as if he did not understand why they were shaking like that. Slowly he stood and with a last glance towards Dírhael, he entered Lord Elrond's study.

Dírhael followed, but stayed in the background and when Erestor noticed that he would have to stand his ground alone, he swallowed and hid his shivering hands in his sleeves. Up to now it had been some kind of job interview in which he had to convince the lord of Imladris to employ him, and he had had a powerful ally with the chief advisor. Now the next minutes would decide if he was allowed to stay or send back to his family and probably into death. And no one would help him win this fight it seemed.

"My lord, I realize that I might have been too forward, and I want to apologize, if ..."

Elrond had seen the youth starting to panic when Erestor noticed that Dírhael did not come to stand behind him like he had done earlier. His thoughtful, clinical gaze swept over the youngster's appearance and took notice of the small signs of fear: He saw the shivering hands being hid in the black sleeves, the dark eyes glistening with unshed tears. And so he interfered before Erestor started despairing in earnest.

"Hush, pen neth. I told it to my chief advisor moments ago, and I will repeat it to you: I appreciate forthrightness. Now, sit down, please."

Erestor sat down slowly, his eyes never leaving the face of lord Elrond. Said lord rounded his desk and hunkered down before the nervous youth. He then gently took the slender hands in his, the skin unhealthily cold and pale. For the first time he saw the dark eyes holding along to the intelligent sparkle a world-weariness that Elrond had never seen in one so young.

With a lump in his throat he looked back to the slender fingers that ever so lightly shook within his grasp.

"Your hands are cold." he softly said. "Pen neth, since when have you felt the coldness?"

Elrond looked up when Erestor was not answering. The young one's eyes were trained on his advisor, a look of pure betrayal on his face that slowly faded into the stone mask Erestor had worn before. Elrond saw all this with a sinking feeling - it seemed he had just destroyed all the trust the young one had had in Dírhael. It would surely cost his friend weeks, probably months, to rebuild what he had destroyed in less than one minute.

"Pen neth, look at me." Elrond waited, until Erestor faced him again, the cool, dark eyes resting on his. There was no emotion in them, all the nervousness had gone.

Anger was a mighty friend that could easily beat fear if it was used in the right way. And anger could be hidden much more easily than fear. This lesson should not be learned so early in life if at all.

"I had to know. You are asking me to do something illegal by letting you work with Dírhael, for you are still some years short of your maturity. Furthermore he is my chief advisor - I cannot let a stranger whose past is to be concealed from me -lord of this valley and its guardian - work with someone who has insight in confidential matters. I told him to either tell me, or to forget about it. Can you understand that?"

Erestor sat motionless for some moments. Then he nodded. "Yes, my lord. I can understand your reasoning and would probably have done the same, had I been in your place. But I still think lord Dírhael could and should have asked me for my permission first. He gave me his promise!"

But the mask stayed in place nonetheless. Elrond decided that this problem had to be solved at a later time - and not by him.

"Erestor, since when have you been in the care of the Greenwood guards that accompanied you here?"

"eight months ... and 12 days."

"That's a long time to heal, yet the signs of the Elven sickness are apparent."

"I know, my lord. Some of the signs have been there for years now. They will need more time to diminish, or to vanish."

Erestor's lips had become a thin line, but he held his lord's gaze, seemingly untouched by the fact that he had been dying ever so slowly.

Behind him, Dírhael swallowed and he blinked his tears away. Elrond looked at the youth, feeling depressed. The young one had been destroyed, his innocence stolen away from him and brutally ripped apart. Now Erestor seemed to have learned that feeling nothing at least didn't hurt.

"They will only vanish if *you* allow them to."

Erestor frowned. "I don't know what that means … but I promise, if you will let me stay, this will not interfere with my work."

To say that Elrond was taken aback would be an understatement - he was quite effectively shocked. After what the youth had obviously been through (as the marks of the elven sickness clearly showed), Erestor expected them to hold it against him. For a moment Elrond seemed lost for words and he only pulled himself together when he saw Erestor steeling himself for rejection.

"Pen neth, I would never ever refuse to give shelter to someone in need - be it man, dwarf or elf. I will not send you away!

But Erestor, we need to know who has done this to you. Thranduil needs to know this. Such a despicable crime must be punished … "

Elrond knew he was not really being fair, but the end justifies the means and so he continued after a moment "They might do it again."

But Erestor did not answer and behind him, Dírhael shook his head and his eyes pleaded with Elrond to let it rest.

Still, Elrond tried two more times without success. Then he gave up. Maybe the young one only needed a little bit more time, although he doubted that.

The lord of Imladris sighed and turned to his advisor.

"He may stay here, and he may accompany you, but not to council meetings. Neither is he to know about the more delicate matters you are entrusted with.

And don't ever refer to him as an employee or your assistant for that is illegal for someone so young; it would cause a scandal. He is your charge from now on and your responsibility. Unofficially or officially you have adopted him."

Dírhael nodded "Thank you, my lord. I will then officially adopt him, if this is agreeable to you, Erestor?"

The young one nodded but stayed silent.

For one moment Elrond observed the quiet darkling. Did Erestor even realize what that meant, what Dírhael was offering him? Adopting the youth would not only make him a citizen of the Hidden Valley but also give him the rights of an Imladrian lord; for as Dírhael's son he would be counted among the lords of Imladris.

But then again, Erestor had more problems than his social status right now.

As Elrond send the two of them away he noticed that Erestor kept more to himself than before the meeting. He didn't search Dírhael's closeness in any way as he had done only half an hour ago. Elrond felt guilty for that and only hoped his advisor and friend would somehow manage to get through to his charge again.

In time, Erestor would have to come to terms with what had happened to him. But Elrond felt that interference from his part would not be appreciated, neither by Erestor nor by Dírhael.

He would speak with friend and counsellor later, when Erestor had had a chance to settle in.

Elrond slowly walked back behind his desk and sat down, reflecting on the meeting with Erestor. His pallor and coldness were clear signs of fading, but he did not understand why the youth refused to reveal his tormentor's names.

He had not lied to him, Elrond would have noticed that but then again, Erestor had told him nothing come to think about it. He had wanted to hear a part of the youth's history in his own words to prove if the lad was telling the truth, but somehow Erestor had done exactly what was required of him so the lord of Imladris wouldn't insist.

Elrond decided he would have a talk with the Mirkwood guards.

Later that day Elrond walked to the training fields where his captain was training with some of his elder soldiers. Soon they would end the training and once again devote themselves to practicing with the younger guards or other duties; like Glorfindel whose attendance was required in a security meeting that afternoon with his second in command and his lord.

But as Elrond wanted to talk to his captain in private and Dírhael would attend the meeting also, he wanted to speak to him before.

Elrond had just come into view of the sparring soldiers when Glorfindel already noticed him. Centuries ago, when he had just returned from Mandos he would have immediately terminated the fighting and expected his soldiers to respectfully greet their lord. After the first of such an occurrence and a highly embarrassed Elrond later he had learned that his lord neither wanted nor was accustomed to such attention and he had stopped that behaviour.

Now they had been friends for a very long time and while he had quitted the 'lord' in private surroundings centuries ago, he still could not let go of all the customs he had gotten used to in Gondolin; Elrond was his lord and deserving of his respect and he would address him properly in public. It was as simple as that.

Glorfindel blocked his opponent's next blow and stepped back, indicating the end of the fight. Smiling, he bowed to his sparring partner and went to greet his lord and friend.

"My lord Elrond! It has been a long time since last you graced the training grounds with your presence. What brings you here? I have not forgotten time and our meeting?"

Elrond smiled and shook his head. "None of that, my friend, rest assured. I would like you to keep an eye on a new citizen, hailing from Mirkwood. An elf named Erestor. Dírhael has taken him under his wing: a friendly turn for some Mirkwood soldiers he feels indebted towards."

"You think him to be a threat, my lord?"

"I honestly don't know. I think he may not be totally honest about his past and he will be working with my chief advisor. You will understand that I'm not really comfortable with that: you know best, that even elves can be treacherous."

Glorfindel's face had turned into stone with the last sentence and Elrond immediately regretted his careless words. He was about to apologize as the blond interjected.

"I understand, my lord. I will have him observed."

Elrond nearly cringed and bit his lip. He had not wanted to cause his friend pain. "Thank you. I'll see you at the meeting."

And he turned and walked towards his office, leaving behind the ancient warrior deeply lost in memories of fire and screams.

This very evening Glorfindel set two of his soldiers on Dírhael's little charge: Arveldir and Tauron. He trusted them to keep quiet and they were good guards. Still it did not bode well for a free realm like Imladris if her citizens were being observed, but Glorfindel agreed with Elrond that they should not take the risk of a spy roaming free in the last homely house.

Glorfindel himself went to the library two days later after dinner, knowing Dírhael was likely to have returned there after taking dinner in the privacy of his rooms. He wanted to talk with Elrond's chief advisor and maybe get to know Erestor to see for himself if the young ellon posed a potential threat.

He pushed the heavy library doors open and entered the dimly lit hall full of high bookshelves and reading tables; in front of him stood a scrawny young ellon with midnight black hair. He stood with his back towards the intruder and seemed to take notes of the books towering in the large shelves before him. When Glorfindel entered, the ellon whirled around, spilling half of the ink and pressed his back into the shelf behind him.

'Valar, he is beautiful' Glorfindel thought to himself. The young ellon looked like a black frightened cat ready to strike, the dim light softening his features and hiding the fact that he was maybe a little bit too thin for his age.

Glorfindel had always relied on his instincts and now he was taken aback for he knew that this ellon would play an important role in his life. One day he would be a beauty to behold and the golden lord knew he would fall for this darkling if he did not guard his heart well.

Still taken aback by his feelings Glorfindel raised his hands in an effort to calm the frightened youth. "I am sorry; I did not mean to scare you."

The black haired pursed his lips, obviously affronted.

"You did not scare me, lord Glorfindel; you startled me, that is all."

Glorfindel quirked an eyebrow to both: that he had not been frightened (the youth was still trembling slightly) and that he knew his name. For the Captain of Imladris neither wore official garments nor his uniform but casual brown leggings and a blue tunic.

"How did you know?" he asked with a smile. Erestor only graced him with an are-you-that-stupid-look and explained in a matter of fact "Your hair, the brooch."

Glorfindel cocked his head. He had never heard anyone address him with so little respect. He was a lord after all, not to mention his past deeds.

But it was true, he had not thought about his brooch -a gift from his cousin Galadriel. It was a beautiful fine-crafted piece of jewellery with the insignia of his house in Gondolin, the golden flower, embedded in it.

"You do not talk much, do you, little one?"

"Neither am I one for mindless prattle nor am I little – not physically and certainly not intellectually; I would appreciate it if you would not refer to me as such."

Glorfindel smiled amused. Once again the young ellon seemed like a cat to him - a teeth baring one. "I am most sorry if I have offended you, forgive me, *my young lord*."

Erestor nearly cringed at the gentle reprimand. Lord Glorfindel usually emanated a serenity that gave the impression of a man who did not care much about the opinion of others. Of course it was his own fault but he hated the fact that he had been put in his place by the famous balrog slayer.

Erestor bowed his head before meeting Glorfindel's eyes. "No, I must apologize, my lord. I didn't mean to lash out on you. It was disrespectful and uncalled for. Please excuse me now, lord Glorfindel, I have to clean up the mess I caused or I will be in trouble."

The moment that the blond nodded Erestor hurried out of the room.

Glorfindel shook his head at the insolence of youth and approached the shelf the young ellon had pressed himself against. Erestor had seemed very nervous. Maybe he had interrupted something? But he was sure, Erestor had not been able to hide something in his robes, he would have seen that. So Glorfindel searched for any documents worth hiding. But he had only just begun to leaf through the various books about herbs and medical tinctures when he was suddenly disturbed.

"Can I be of assistance, Glorfindel?" The captain inwardly cursed.

"No, thank you, Dírhael."

"Have you seen Erestor?" asked the chief advisor with a small frown.

Glorfindel grinned "If Erestor is that scrawny, brutally honest and totally disrespectful black-haired youth that spilled ink all over the floor, then yes."

Dírhael sighed, already becoming annoyed at his old friend. "You frightened him ..." he accused, the blonds grin only widened. "No I didn`t. Your charge was adamant about only having been startled a little bit."

Elrond's chief advisor gave the blond ellon his sternest look, just as Erestor returned with water and a cloth.

"Lord Dírhael, I am sorry for all the mess I caused. I will clean up immediately. But I am almost finished with the inventory of the phytology section. It seems that two books are missing. I have just been starting to search the shelves for the second time, but I have yet to find them. I have listed the books that need mending."

Dírhael smiled. "I'm not angry Erestor. Just clean up. And I wouldn't be too worried about those books, pen dithen."

Glorfindel grinned widely at the darkling who was grinding his teeth at being called 'little one' when he had just told the blond lord not to; but aside from that Erestor was doing a good job in ignoring the famous balrog slayer. If Dírhael noticed the little wordless exchange, he didn't comment on it.

"Elrond sometimes takes them to the healing wing if he has need of a recipe. He often lacks the time to have them copied for him let alone to do it himself."

The chief advisor then took Imladris captain by the elbow, effectively manoeuvring him towards his own study.

"He is making a potion?"

Glorfindel rubbed his temple. He had just gone to bed when Tauron, the younger one of the two guards observing Erestor, had knocked on his door. Now he stood in his antechamber with the young soldier, listening to his report.

"Yes, my lord. He went to the healing wing about half an hour ago and towards lord Elrond's labour. He started a fire and well ... is making a potion in there right now."

It seemed that Mirkwood plague had already started to cause trouble - not even three weeks after his arrival.

The Mirkwood guards had left some days ago, leaving behind a very silent and quiet Erestor. It had been the only time he had seen the young one show real emotions besides the little outburst of fear in the library. The Mirkwood elves had bid Erestor farewell in the privacy of the young elf's rooms. Then the group had made their way towards the courtyard, where lord Elrond would see the visitors off.

Glorfindel had been on his way to the courtyard himself, when he saw the Mirkwood elves entering the hallway from the opposite direction. He had been about to greet them, when he saw a small dark figure rushing past the group of elves and throwing himself into Thalion's arms. He had heard Erestor sob and plead with his friends to not leave. As the Mirkwood elves had tried to calm the young ellon, he had silently left, giving them some moments alone.

Glorfindel had then joined Elrond and told him that the Mirkwood party would be delayed for a few minutes which had earned him a curious look. He had whispered only for his lord's ears: "Erestor does not take it well."

Elrond had nodded with a sad expression and they had waited patiently for their guests to arrive and Elrond had sent them on their way with messages for king Thranduil and his best wishes for their journey.

Ever since then, Erestor had been barely talking to anyone and even his joyful friend Dírhael had been in a dark mood. Hence his habit to call the young ellon 'Mirkwood plague'.

Glorfindel always smiled to himself, when using that nickname. Maybe that was his shrewd way of 'guarding his heart'.

"I'm coming. And please fetch Dírhael."

Ten minutes later Glorfindel was quietly walking towards Elrond's labour, his soft leather boots not making any sound on the cold stone floor. He stood before the wooden door, listening to any sound coming from within but there was only the soft crackling of fire.

One moment he hesitated. To be in Elrond's labour in the middle of the night did not bode well. That alone could be causing many problems for the young one. He did not believe that Erestor was intending to harm someone, but still.

Slowly he opened the door, revealing a dim lit large room. The walls were covered with large shelves containing various supplies that Elrond used. There was willow bark against pain, sage, chamomile, birch leafs, henbane, wolfs bane and many more. Because of the toxic effects of some of the ingredients like wolfs bane and because of Elrond's expensive instruments, only few had keys to this room - a fact only adding to Erestor's current problems of having entered without permission.

When spotting the young ellon sitting in front of the fire, he stilled and crossed his arms, patiently waiting for the boy to notice him.

Erestor seemed even paler than he had been in the library, his complexion grey and unhealthy. The young one crouched before the ember in the fireplace, both arms folded around his knees on which his head rested. Long moments passed while Erestor remained in this position – unaware of the amused captain standing only meters away.

Eventually Glorfindel gave up and cleared his throat to get Erestor's attention.

If it wouldn't have been so much fun, he would have felt bad for startling the youth like he did: Erestor stood so promptly that his circuit collapsed and he had to clasp the table behind him to prevent himself from falling. Glorfindel rushed forward and steadied the young ellon.

"Easy Erestor!" He waited for the young ellon's fear filled face to turn towards him. At least Erestor had the decency to be ashamed, even if this would not help him much. "You know that you're in a mess? What, pray tell me, are you doing here in the middle of the night?"

"ERESTOR!" Dírhael rushed into the room towards his charge. "What is this all about? What by Eru and the fourteen Valar are you doing here?"

"I just ... I ... I didn't want to ..."

"Why did you do that, Erestor? I gave Elrond my word, I vouched for you!"

Glorfindel rolled his eyes. For being Elrond's chief advisor, Dírhael had the habit to rush things and he definitely was a tad too dramatic. There were certainly more important things than giving the young one a tongue-lashing, even if he had earned it. So he interfered before Dírhael could go on.

"Erestor, what is this potion you have been working on?"

The darkling looked to him, already wearing his stone mask and Glorfindel sighed. "It's for a dreamless sleep." He turned towards Dírhael. "I didn't ... please hîren. I promised to not let it interfere with my work."

Glorfindel knitted his eyebrows, wondering what nightmares Erestor could have that caused him to secretly make sleeping potions. He watched as the chief advisor drew his charge into a tight embrace - Erestor immediately growing rigid – and shook his head.

"Dírhael, might I suggest you bring him to his chambers and stay with him. I'll report to Elrond in the morning. I would advise you to make an appearance with Erestor, too. I don't think, Elrond will be amused about this little ... something here." he gesticulated to the small cauldron on the fire. "I'll go to bed, if you do not mind ..." And he exited the labour without another word.

The next morning, Glorfindel made sure to catch Elrond when he left his chambers to speak with him before Dírhael could. He then gave his lord and friend a detailed account of the past night's happenings, all the while studying his lord's feature.

Elrond gave no sign of anger or surprise and patiently waited for Glorfindel to end his story. When his captain had recounted Erestor's explanation, Elrond sighed.

"I should have expected that. It would only be natural for him to have nightmares, after what he claims to have been through."

"And may I ask what exactly he has been through? Since two of my most trustworthy men observe him and I was made believe that he was a possible traitor ... maybe I should know what we are dealing with Elrond."

Elrond leaned back thoughtfully. Why not? He had never actually promised not to reveal anything, and Glorfindel deserved to know, after all.

"What he *has* been through or what he *says* he has been through? Because in this case that might be a huge difference."

Elrond waited but Glorfindel just frowned at him.

"He claims that his family in Mirkwood abused him; that his cousin's and uncle raped him. He ran away, came across some border guards, who brought him here.

But the more I think about it, the more doubts I have."

"You already told me of your doubts that day on the training fields. But may I ask about the reasons? If he has been fading ..."

"When I first met him, he had been eight and a half months with the soldiers and he still showed signs of the elven sickness."

"And?" Glorfindel pressed, when Elrond looked at him expectantly.

"And he would not have had the strength to cross half of Mirkwood without water, food or weapons, when eight months later - safe and among friends - he had still such strong fading marks."

When Glorfindel kept silent, thinking about his lord's revelation, Elrond proceeded.

"So I went to Thalion. He told me that the marks had already been there when they found him and that they had not diminished since. They should have, Glorfindel, they should have!

He is very intelligent, Glorfindel, that I do not doubt. There *are* some plants that could cause his pallor and his cold skin, and the rest could be acted. It's not that hard after all. And he never really told me himself what happened to him. If he would have flat-out lied to me I would have noticed but he only told his story to Thalion, who told it to his family and Dírhael, who recounted Erestor's tale to me.

He could fake it all … or he is still traumatized and didn't realize that he is safe. Which is also a realistic possibility if he really was violated by those who should have protected, loved and cherished him. He might not trust us, or he suffers from the nightmares enough that his body and mind cannot heal ..."

"Why do you not speak with him again, see if he lies?"

Elrond shook his head. "Dírhael. He would have my head if I pressed Erestor further."

"But this is the perfect occasion. Erestor has done something illegal in order to suppress his nightmares. You, Elrond, are the best healer in Middle Earth. Who could help him heal his spirit if not you then who else? Tell Dírhael and Erestor that you will not charge him, if he accepts your help. They cannot possibly decline."

Elrond cocked his head and raised one single eyebrow in amusement "My dear Glorfindel of Imladris, maybe I should transfer you: from captain to advisor."

Glorfindel grimaced "I am not opposed to giving you my advice, Elrond, far from it, but I would prefer not to be confined behind a desk all day."

The lord of Imladris smiled "And it would be a waste to let a fine warrior and the best captain I could wish for decay in a stuffy study."

Valar, Elrond had not known that Glorfindel was able to blush that deeply. He grinned and stood. "Well then, I will have a talk with my chief advisor and his troublesome charge. I will see you at dinner?"

"Yes Elrond."

When Elrond entered his study Dírhael and Erestor were already waiting for him and both immediately stood. Elrond hid his good mood behind a grave expression and gave his chief advisor and the young ellon a short but sharp look. He rounded his desk without answering the words of greetings and set down, folding his hands on his lap and leaning back in his chair, waiting for an explanation.

"I see that you have already been informed."

Elrond nodded seriously but stayed silent.

"Has Glorfindel mentioned Erestor's motives?"

"Yes, he has." Smiling faintly at his long time friend, Elrond continued somewhat gentler. "But I would hear them from his lips, Dírhael. And I'd like to speak with him alone, mellonen."

Dírhael's eyes became wide and his body stiffened. For long moments he only sat there, wordlessly staring at his lord, whose eyes were trained on Erestor. Then he slowly stood and quietly said "I will wait outside then, my lord."

Elrond inwardly groaned, wondering about the wisdom in employing friends while his advisor left his lord's study, trying to have faith in his lord to make the right decision – and failing miserably. Elrond sighed; he would have to pacify his friend later.

All the while Erestor stood in front of Elrond's desk, his hands nervously playing with the hem of his sleeves. Long moments passed while he felt the silence building around him, suffocating him. He dared not to look at his lord, afraid what he would see and so he missed the gentle expression in the half elf's eyes.

For a moment Elrond asked himself how this young ellon managed to manipulate him like that – he would nearly have gone to the youth to take him into his arms and reassure him that everything was all right, that he was forgiven. He wondered if Erestor knew exactly what he was doing or if the young one just was really that insecure behind that stone mask of his and if that was what provoked his protectiveness.

"Erestor? I told you I would never send anyone in need away. I told you, you could stay. Why did you not come to me, to ask for a sleeping potion? Why by the Valar did you force your entrance in my labour? There are reasons why only few people are allowed in there. And I am sure you knew it was illegal, stealing a key to a restricted area, mixing potions in the middle of the night."

"I did not steal a key. I used a lock pick."

That blunt answer earned him a snort.

"I did not want you to know that I needed a sleeping potion. I promised you my condition would not hinder me in my work." He said in a small voice.

"Erestor, this cannot go on like that."

Elrond nearly missed the whispered plea "Please do not send me back."

The lord of Imladris knitted his brow. Either the young ellon was really afraid or he was the most brilliant actor he had ever seen. The lord of Imladris observed his opponent closely. The young one's eyes were still trained on the ground and he seemed to concentrate on his breathing so as not to cry. The black waves of his hair shielded him partly from Elrond's gaze.

Either way, now he had to put Glorfindel's plan into action. He rounded the desk, told Erestor to sit down and rearranged the other chair so he could seat himself directly in front of the young darkling.

"Will you look at me, Erestor? When I said that it could not go on like this, I did not mean that you had to leave Imladris. I meant that you have to face the ghosts of your past.

And I will help you. If you need sleeping potions, so be it, I will give them to you ... controlledly ... but you cannot take them forever."

Erestor looked at him and Elrond could see the defiant expression in his eyes for only one moment before the youngster managed to hide it.

"I will not charge you for trespassing or thievery, but I want you to talk to me. I am a healer, Erestor, I will help you. If you want to stay, we will meet once a week. Dírhael can accompany us, if it makes you more comfortable. Are you agreeable to that?"

"Yes my lord. But I don't ... I can't ... I do not want to speak of how he … "

Huge black eyes turned towards the lord of Imladris, a haunted look in them that made Elrond shiver. After taking some steadying intakes of breath, Erestor cocked his head, his face completely void of emotions as if completely detached from reality. But his trembling voice betrayed his inner turmoil.

"He tied me down so that I would not be able to fight him ..."

Tears ran down the pale cheeks "and he touched me and …"

A quiet sob shook Erestor's small frame and Elrond slid down to kneel before the youth so that he was at eye-level with the darkling. His arms closed around him, hugging him close against a firm chest. The young one clawed at his robe, drenching his shoulder with bitter tears while Elrond silently rocked Erestor forth and back.

"Hush, pen neth, you do not need to tell more now. I will listen whenever you are ready, child. You are safe now, here with Dírhael and me. And whatever you need shall be granted to you. You need but ask."

Elrond was torn between relief and grief. Not only was the young one playing along without any problems, but he also could feel that he had not lied, so now Elrond knew that the youth had been truthful: he had been abused by his family. At the same time his heart went out to the elf before him. How he wished Erestor would confide in him, so that he could make sure, Erestor's family would be punished.

They stayed that way for long minutes until the tears subsided and Elrond drew back, grasping the slim shoulders to make Erestor look at him.

"You can decide, what you want to tell us and when and we will help you heal. But promise me, that you will come to Dírhael or me, if you have need of something, all right?

"I will."

Elrond smiled, the young one still looked pale and his dark eyes were red-rimmed from crying but he seemed extremely relieved also and much more alive than he had seemed the last time in his office.

"Now off you go, calm my chief advisor who is probably having a heart attack outside. Come to my office tomorrow after dinner."

Erestor actually smiled. Elrond was stunned how that simple gesture made the young one so much more approachable, almost beautiful; even with his swollen eyes and flushed cheeks.

Eru, what was wrong with him? He was married to the most beautiful elleth in Middle Earth who had given him three wonderful children, and now he found himself attracted to an *elfling*. He would have to remind himself that Erestor was a patient, nothing more.

"I will be there, my lord."

When Elrond told his captain that afternoon that Erestor had told the truth, Glorfindel was not relieved, for it meant the beautiful young ellon had been at his relative's mercy for years. And although Elrond told him it would not be necessary to have Erestor observed anymore, Glorfindel decided to keep an eye on him and be Erestor's guardian for the years to come.

CHAPTER END NOTES

Phytology: study of plants, botany

tôr ~ brother

rusc ~ fox

pen neth ~ young one

pen dithen ~ little one

hîren ~ my lord

mellon ~ friend

mellonen ~ my friend

ellon ~ male elf

elleth ~ female elf

ithilion ~ moon's son

Song: 'The Two Trees' by Loreena McKennit
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The Bitter Glass