From Broken Endings to New Beginnings

BY : Argleena
Category: -Multi-Age > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 245
Disclaimer: The following work is based on the fantasy world and characters created by J.R.R. Tolkien and I do not own them or profit from this piece of work. Original Characters are my own and marked as such (OMC, OFC).

This request written for Nuredhel for MSV (My Slashy Valentine) 2020, found on AO3. 

Request: Rating up to = NC-17
Requested pairing = Thranduil/Lindir or Elrond/Lindir.
Story elements = angst, hidden desire, the truth revealed at last
Do NOT include = death, au

Second Age, 3434
The Battle of Dagorlad

Erestor dragged himself slowly but stealthily through the half deserted Greenwood encampment. He was presently covered in the black blood of the enemy and the grime of war, with record books in hand after an ill fought battle. This Greenwood post he was currently passing through, filled with improvised shelters and tents of warriors now most likely dead or on Námo’s doorstep, was a shadow of what it once was after having lost more than half of their warriors in Oropher’s ill timed charge during the Alliance’s most recently ended battle. Already embittered due to their lack of provisions and inferior armor and weapons compared to the better prepared Noldor factions (who had had much more time to make ready for this war), this great loss now drew out even more contempt from the Greenwood contingent, regrets pouring out among them for ever joining this cursed alliance in the first place. 

Cries of pain and despair for the incomprehensible loses and gravely injured could be heard throughout the encampment. Erestor took extra care as he skirted the Prince’s tent, now actually the King, as Oropher had perished in the gruesome battle. He could hear Thranduil raging in his tent, crying out in pain and grief at the great losses he and his people suffered. Erestor knew in his heart of hearts that the more level headed Thranduil realized his father’s mistakes and fault in the destruction that overcame the Greenwood warriors in this devastating downfall for the Greenwood army when Oropher chose not to follow directions given by the High King. Surrounded by all this death, destruction and despair, however, it was easier for him to blame the Noldor, the enemy, the Valar... anyone else, rather than heap more guilt and blame upon themselves on top of the pain and losses they already suffered. Therefore, Erestor avoided the royal tents at all costs, hoping to avoid an altercation with the hotheaded newly crowned King. He hurried past guards and slipped quietly into the tent of Istuion. Glorfindel would have his hide if he survived the battle only to be skinned alive by the raging royal. 

Much like Erestor was to Elrond and the high-king, Istuion was not only a warrior, he was also a counselor to his king Oropher, (and now Thranduil) and the main record keeper for his people. Among their responsibilities as fighters, they also worked communicating between encampments, organizing provisions, and keeping records of all sort. Today the records that they were compiling accounted for the dead, missing and injured warriors across all free people who fought in this perilous battle. It was a disheartening job, but someone had to do it; so to Erestor from Imladris and Istuion from the Greenwood it fell. 

The two spent several hours exchanging information gathered in order to identify all that were dead, missing (and presumed dead), injured, and recovering (or dying) with healers throughout various encampments. Elves were immortal creatures with amazing healing capabilities, therefore, the sight of so many grievously wounded was one thing that could break through some of the barriers and stubborn prejudices between varying groups of elves. Many of the injured Greenwood elves had ended up with the healers from Lindon, Lothlórien and the Havens, while some of their injured ended up in the care of the Greenwood healers. Those that could, would be moved back to their home encampments. Those more seriously wounded would be left in the care of their brother and sister elves. To Erestor, this arrangement making, record taking and information exchanging felt almost never ending, but after hours they finally completed their task. 

When Erestor and Istuion finished their meeting for the evening, Erestor stood wearily and began to trudge his way back to his campsite and tent with heavy, worn out footsteps. He would have to try and find some sort of fresh water to wash up with and a few scraps of food to fill the void in his stomach with before he fell into bed. Maybe even his lover, Glorfindel, would be able to come rest from his duties with him for a short time before the dawning of a new day and more never ending responsibilities began again. Erestor, himself, must be up before the sunrise to prepare to meet with Elrond, herald to the High King and Lord of Imladris. Just as he reached the outskirts of the Greenwood encampment he saw a figure laying still and silent on the ground. 

Worried that it was an injured warrior, Erestor quickly approached the prone elf and felt for a pulse. While the elf on the ground was very pale and cold to the touch, he still had life within him. After trying to rouse the elf for several minutes, awareness, along with a pool of tears appeared in the elf’s lilac colored eyes. Shaking with the cold and his sobs, the smaller elf clung to Erestor. Realizing he would get no forthcoming information from the elf at this time, he lifted the strange elf to his feet and escorted him back to the tent which was Erestor’s home for the war. Along the way Erestor tried asking several questions, including the stranger elf’s name. Eventually a soft voice, raw from crying answered, “Lindir. My name is Lindir,” and that was all. 

When Erestor and Lindir entered Erestor’s tent, Erestor directed Lindir to a cot in the corner that had originally belonged to his lover. Sometimes Elrond or other counselors would use if the night became too late after a meeting or the individual was too weary to return to their own tent. Lindir immediately succumbed to sleep after crawling under the single blanket place on the cot. Erestor quietly washed up the best he could and settled for some lembas, dried meat and luke warm tea for his dinner. He glanced over at his tent mate in the candlelight. Lindir, while being average height for an elf was a very thin, lithe elf. He had moved with grace, even as distraught as he was. He had pale cream colored skin and Erestor could tell under the soot and grime that covered everyone in this Valar forsaken place, his hair was white color with a silver sheen, like a sparkling pure snowfall. Looking down upon Lindir in slumber, Erestor could see his vivid lavender eyes, glazed in deep slumber, surrounded by long, thick lashes. He certainly was a beautiful elf.

One thing that Erestor did notice was that Lindir’s clothing did not appear to be as worn and torn as most of that of the warriors. He wore a simple tunic, leggings and boots of good quality that seemed well taken care of. He didn’t move like a warrior either, rather, there seemed an ethereal grace about him with every motion. When Erestor lifted the sleeping elf’s hands, he did not see the calluses of a warrior, who wielded sword, knives, or bow, rather those of a minstrel who spent much time stoking the strings of the harp or a lute. He also had had the calluses of a scribe, accumulated after day in and day out use of the quill against the same spots. That is not to say he wasn’t a warrior. Many others who had once not been soldiers, but were farmers, blacksmiths, scholars, scribes, cooks, servants and many others things found themselves in the position of warrior during times of need. For some reason though, Erestor could not picture this one fighting. Perhaps he was a record keeper or counselor such as Erestor himself was. Several questions for his visitor ran through his head, however they would have to wait for another day. He was not even sure where this one came from. He found him near the Greenwood encampment but Lindir did not possess the typical coloring for one of that area. He looked more like he belonged more so to the groups from the Havens or Lothlórien. Erestor sighed and thought to himself, “just another of many mysteries to be solved at a later date.” He soon sank onto his own pallet and fell into a restless slumber. 

In the early hours of the morning, a rustling of the tent door woke Erestor from his fitful slumber. His lover, Glorfindel, was entering the tent space as quietly as his large frame made possible. He stepped inside and momentarily froze at seeing the unfamiliar elf resting on the spare cot in their tent. It had been Glorfindel’s cot, but since he and Erestor always shared Erestor’s pallet, the cot was mainly used for visitors. Glorfindel quickly shed his clothes, washed his face and hands from the small bucket of water Erestor had rounded up and slipped under the covers, his arms gliding around his dark mate, looking into sleepy eyes with a tired smile. 

“I see I’ve arrived too late, you’ve replaced me! Who is this lovely stray that has taken up my bed,” Glorfidel teased. Somehow, through all the horror and pain, Erestor’s lover seemed to maintain his cheerful disposition. Erestor knew it was Glorfindel’s way of coping with the atrocities of war without giving way to the dispar, as his sleeping tentmate had seemed to do earlier.

Erestor reached his hand up and playfully smacked his irreverent lover. “He may be in your bed, but you are in mine,” Erestor purred, stretching his neck up upwards in order to kiss Glorfindel soundly. He then let out a weary sigh. “His name is Lindir. I found him outside of the Greenwood encampment, laying cold and still on the ground after my meeting with Istuion. After I roused him he appeared to be steeped in a deep despair and I could get no information from him except for his name. He appears to be overcome with grief. I have a feeling he is very young and naive to the realities and hardships of war and wonder what exactly his role here is. If I have time and he is still here after my morning meeting with Elrond, I will try to gather more information from him. As it was, we were both too exhausted for me to investigate any further and I offered your spare cot this evening. I could not leave him out in the cold, grieving as he was. He would not have woke come morning.”

“Mmhmm.., “ Glorfindel hummed in sleepy agreement, pulling Erestor closer. “And think of all those who gossip that you have such a cold and aloof heart, uncaring of others. You reveal your true self to me, my persnickety counselor,” Glorfindel teased with a grin. 

Erestor just shot a glare at his partner, turning up his nose in a half-hearted affront. Glorfindel ignored the facade and burrowed in deeper, closer to the one he loved, sending him waves of comforting energy. “I suppose this means I must wait for another time to ply you with my deepest affections,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose into the nape of the advisors neck, one of Erestor’s many erroneous zones that he knew of. Erestor simply grunted, seemingly annoyed at the captain’s irrevrency, but in all actuality he was already snuggling closer to the one he loved, placing his hand on the great warrior’s chest above his heart, to offer his own form of comfort to the Elda who had also suffered many losses of his troops, down the hardworn battle toward victory in a war that had only just begun.

“Gi melin,” Glorfindel whispered.

“Posto vae, meleth nin,” Erestor yawned and settled into his lover’s arms for a couple more hours of desperately needed sleep. This time he slept much more restfully.


gi melin- I love you

posto vae meleth nin- sleep well my love



Istuion (OMC)- name meaning “Learned”

Erestor- name meaning lonely brother

Glorfindel- name meaning golden haired

Lindir- name Lind (tune/sound) & dîr (man): song-man/singer

*I will provide the meanings of any original character’s names I created, as they often coincide with the character’s personality. Some other character name meanings provided as well based on my best research abilities and knowledge of the Elvish languages. 

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