Title: Lonely In Love.

Author: Morgana  morganalebeau@yahoo.com

Website; http://www.paranoid.nl/avalon

Pairing(s): Glorfindel/Elrond, Glorfindel/Ecthelion and Erestor/Ecthelion.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The Valar deem the time ready for Ecthelion to return to Arda. Erestor is given the task of preparing the young warrior for a life in Imladris.

Disclaimer: These characters are all Tolkien’s.
Warning: AU, fluff, romance, minor angst.
Author’s Note: Not beta read. All mistakes are all mine; yeah, I am greedy! And remember; this is AU! Oh, and I know as good as nothing of Gondolin, Ecthelion’s death, etc, but I tried my best!

 

 

 

Lonely in love

The night will fade, the sun will shine
A new day - Lonely in love
And light the way for you to find

New love

 

Lyrics by Crimson Glory

 

Part 4

 

The magical sound of a hundred flutes created a deafening roar in his ears. “We need to stop Evil from entering our city! We cannot let them enter! Where is the House of the Harp? Why aren’t they coming to our aid? We cannot fight them back alone! Glorfindel! Stay close!”

 

Erestor woke with a start and sat upright. What had awoken him?

 

“The Balrogs… And there are Fire Drakes too! We need reinforcements!”

 

“Ecthelion!” Erestor pushed back the sheets and leapt out of bed. Clad in a long shirt, he ran into the corridor. He didn’t bother to knock and resolutely entered Ecthelion’s room. As he hadn’t been here before he needed a moment to orientate himself. The bed stood beneath an open window, and a gentle breeze floated into the room, but Ecthelion’s body was covered in sweat and he seemed feverish to Erestor.

 

Erestor quickly made his way over to the bed and sat down on the edge. Ecthelion was still calling out for reinforcements and his arms were moving like they were wielding a sword. Ecthelion kicked, trying to free himself of his opponents and his knee hit Erestor in the chest.

 

Erestor bit down the muffled cry that almost escaped him and wondered how to calm Ecthelion. Then he remembered what the younger Elf had told him earlier that evening -- how Celeborn had soothed him when he was having a nightmare.

 

“Glorfindel! The Balrog… Watch out! Glorfindel!” Ecthelion moved about, wildly struggling when arms tried to contain and calm him. “The Balrog! Gothmog! Nay!” His cries became shrieks, high-pitched and filled with pain. “Fire! I am burning! Burning!”

 

Erestor drew in a deep breath and then pulled Ecthelion close, afraid the younger Elf would hurt himself in his current state. “Ecthelion, there is a cool breeze in the room, and Ithil’s silver beams surround us. You are safe. You are with me. There is no danger.” Erestor rocked his charge, gently stroking Ecthelion’s back in an effort to soothe him further. “You are safe with me and it is cool in here. There is a cool breeze and you do not feel hot. Cool. A cool breeze.”

 

“Bur…ning…” But Ecthelion’s voice was calmer now and had taken on an entranced tone. “Not… burning?” He collapsed against Erestor, and instinctively wrapped his arms around him. “But… I… feel hot.”

 

“Then let’s rid ourselves of these sheets.” Erestor pushed the fabric away from Ecthelion, allowing the cool wind to brush against the feverish skin. With one hand he lifted the long, raven hair, enabling the breeze to also reach there. “You are safe here – safe with me, Ecthelion.”

 

Ecthelion vaguely registered the voice, but what truly reached the depths of his mind were the gentle ministrations bestowed onto his skin. “Don’t… leave… me.” He wasn’t certain who was holding him, and he didn’t really care, as long as this person continued to hold and ground him. “I…” Words fled him as a cool, soothing sensation spread over his skin, taking away the awful burning experience that had caused his nightmare.

 

“Don’t speak,” soothed Erestor, still rocking his charge. “There is no need to speak now. Rest instead.” Holding Ecthelion tightly, he continued to whisper soothingly, following the instructions the younger Elf had given him earlier that evening. Finding that Ecthelion’s breathing was evening out, and growing shallower, he slowly lowered them back onto the bed. He was forced to lie down as well, as the other Elf’s grip on him remained strong.

 

Ecthelion cuddled up to the warm form holding him and rested his head in the crook of the other Elf’s shoulder. “Stay…”

 

“I will stay,” promised Erestor, stroking Ecthelion’s damp hair. “You aren’t alone, Ecthelion.”

 

“Glor…fin…del?” Ecthelion fought to open his eyes, which had closed to lock out his horrid memories of being burned alive.

 

“I am so sorry, but I am not Glorfindel.” Erestor couldn’t lie.

 

“Who… then?” His panic fought to return, but Ecthelion didn’t want to give this peaceful feeling up.

 

“It is I, Erestor.” To his surprise, at hearing his name, much of the tension left Ecthelion’s body and the younger Elf slipped into a deeper state of sleep.

 

“E…res…tor…” With that name still on his lips, Ecthelion dreamt – peacefully this time.

 

Erestor guarded the younger Elf’s sleep carefully and stayed with him for the remainder of the night.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I am sorry about last night,” whispered Ecthelion. He had just woken up and his face was still buried against Erestor’s chest. Unable to look at the elder Elf, he hoped Erestor was also awake and had heard his words.

 

“There is nothing to apologize for,” said Erestor, kindly. He loosened his hold on Ecthelion, allowing the younger Elf to leave the embrace if he desired so. But the truth was that it was Ecthelion’s crushing grip on him that kept them in place. Deciding to open up further to his charge, Erestor said, “I am no stranger to nightmares myself. I had them after fighting at Mount Orodruin and a good friend of mine also frequently suffers from them.” He had heard Glorfindel’s screams at night, which had much resembled Ecthelion’s. He had even gone to the blond’s room once to soothe him, but had found Elrond seated there, already calming the warrior. Tiptoeing, he had left, hoping they hadn’t noticed his unexpected visit.

 

“Thank you. You are very kind.” Ecthelion didn’t want to let go of the elder Elf, but knew it was the proper thing to do. When he tried to loosen his grip on Erestor, he realized he felt paralyzed. “I cannot move!”

 

Erestor gently stroked the long hair and used a kind, comforting tone. “You do not have to.” Ecthelion must have suffered some kind of shock during the night and still needed him close. “Do you want to talk about your dreams?”

 

Ecthelion trembled fiercely. “I do not!”

 

“It might help though. It might make them go away,” said Erestor in the same gentle tone he had used with Elrond’s children when they had been little. “Nightmares feed of the darkness in our minds. When you pull them into the light they lose some of their terror.”

 

“I cannot. Please do not make me.” Ecthelion instinctively buried his face against the fabric of Erestor’s nightshirt.

 

“I won’t force you, but the day will come that you want to talk about them. I will be patient until then.” Although this decision went against his better judgment, he knew it was best for Ecthelion. Whilst he continued to stroke the younger Elf’s hair, he used his other hand to massage the tense shoulders. Bare skin, tight with muscle cramps flinched beneath his fingertips and he finally registered the fact that his charge slept naked.

 

“Thank you for holding me. It must be awkward for you and… and I ruined your night rest.”

 

“Do not apologize, Ecthelion.” Erestor found the tense muscles loosening beneath the massage and the younger Elf’s hold on him began to weaken. “Are you rested enough to go for your morning run? Or do you wish to go back to sleep?” He would respect Ecthelion’s decision either way.

 

“I want to go running,” replied Ecthelion. The physical exercise would take his mind off of the burning pain his nightmares always caused. “That is… Will you accompany me?” He finally found the courage to lift his head so he could make eye contact with Erestor. Did the elder Elf think any less of him after witnessing him falling prey to his nightmares?

 

“I will join you,” said Erestor, who managed a reassuring smile. “But I refuse to go running on an empty stomach. I will fix us some breakfast. Why don’t you go down to the Sea for a refreshing swim?” His dark eyes now twinkled. “If we had a bathtub, you would not have to leave the house.”

 

“Maybe we can buy one?” offered Ecthelion, shyly.

 

“Maybe,” whispered Erestor, who was still stroking the damp hair and bare skin. “Can you let go of me now?”

 

Ecthelion nodded and then opened his arms, allowing Erestor to move out of the embrace. But he felt the loss keenly and wished Erestor hadn’t moved and was still resting against him. He had felt safe with Erestor!

 

Erestor felt the same way; he didn’t want to let go of Ecthelion either, but it was time they started their morning activities, which meant having breakfast and going for a run. He had planned to keep Ecthelion’s nose burrowed in the books he had brought from Imladris, but he now changed his mind. Ecthelion needed to be outside. Maybe they could spar instead. “I will see you in the kitchen when you are ready. And take your time.”

 

Ecthelion nodded, thankful that Erestor understood. With a sad feeling eating his heart, he watched as the elder Elf gracefully walked out of his room. Erestor had saved him from insanity last night; at least it felt that way to him. The elder Elf had grounded him, had pulled him away from those horrific memories. That could only mean one thing; Erestor cared for him. It was amazing, mused Ecthelion. Erestor had only been here for two days and there was already a strong friendship building between them. Sitting upright in bed, he pushed his hair away from his face and smiled weakly. /And I care for him too./

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Surprised, Ecthelion followed Erestor when they went back outside again. They had run – in silence this time, as he didn’t feel like talking – and had then gone for a refreshing swim in the Sea. This time Erestor hadn’t insisted on his privacy and they had swum together – once more in silence. It was as if he couldn’t grow out of this negative feeling that had claimed him since he’d had that nightmare. Erestor had been a silent support, for which he was grateful. The elder Elf hadn’t forced him into conversation and had allowed him to work through his problems in his own time.

 

“Do you have your weapons here?” asked Erestor, sitting down on the grass.

 

“Of course!” His curiosity was piqued and with that some of his enthusiasm returned. “Would you like me to fetch them?”

 

“Just two swords. That is all we need.” Amused, Erestor watched Ecthelion disappear into the house again, only to emerge with two practice swords a few minutes later.

 

“Will these do?” Proudly, he presented the swords to Erestor.

 

Erestor accepted them and first balanced one and then the other in his hand. “These will do.”

 

“What for?”

 

Erestor was pleased to find the sparkle had returned to Ecthelion’s eyes and so had the youth’s energetic enthusiasm. “For sparring. You need to train, Ecthelion. You cannot simply neglect your weapons’ skill because you got me for a teacher!” Erestor rose from the grass and stretched. “We should warm up first.” He had seen Ecthelion do these exercises before and once his student had overcome his initial surprise at seeing him do them as well, Ecthelion joined him. “Lord Celeborn trained you personally?” Erestor kept a close eye on Ecthelion, making certain he wasn’t rushing these exercises.

 

“Aye, he did! Haldir, Rumil and Orophin helped as well.”

 

“That is quite a privilege; to be trained by the best.”

 

“Aye,” agreed Ecthelion. /But it was also hard work./ Celeborn, Haldir, and his brothers hadn’t been easily pleased and had pushed him to the edge. He could tell that sparring with Erestor would be less tense. “And who trained you?” He hoped he wasn’t crossing any boundaries. Although Erestor had told him some personal things, he wasn’t certain just how much the elder Elf wanted to confide in him.

 

Ending his exercises, Erestor stood still, watching Ecthelion and reading the fear of trespassing in the gray eyes. From the start, he had known he had to be honest. “A lot of Elves did.”

 

“Name one?” Ecthelion had finished his own exercises and he now gave Erestor a pleading look. He thirsted for knowledge!

 

Erestor sighed, deeply, deciding to be honest. “What do you know of the High-King?”

 

“Ereinion? Also known as Gil-Galad? He led the attack on Sauron at the Battle of the Last Alliance and…” His eyes widened, dramatically. “Did you know him?” /He must have! He told me he fought at Mount Orodruin!/

 

“Aye, I knew him.” Erestor’s thoughts traveled back to that fated day. “He trained me.”

 

Ecthelion soundlessly moved closer. “He did?”

 

“He was a good friend,” said Erestor, releasing another sigh. “When he died…” Ereinion’s death had almost devastated him. “We suffered a great loss that day.”

 

Ecthelion’s expression grew sad. “You mentioned you also had nightmares. Are they about… losing him?”

 

“It was a cruel and ruthless battle, Ecthelion,” replied Erestor, making eye contact with the younger Elf. “It was slaughter. In that battle, Elrond and I covered each other backs. Ereinion got somehow separated from us and we reached him too late.” Even now, so many millennia later, tears appeared in his eyes and he wiped them away.

 

“I am sorry,” whispered Ecthelion, at a loss. He didn’t know what to say, or how to offer comfort.

 

“It was his destiny,” said Erestor, resigning himself to the truth. “We lost so many that day.”

 

“But you survived.”

 

“Aye, I did.” And he had regretted it ever since.

 

Seeing Erestor’s distant expression, Ecthelion wondered if sparring was a wise thing to do. They needed to be focused and concentrated. An injury could easily occur during a sparring match.

 

“Let’s do this,” announced Erestor, taking on a fighting stance. Lifting his sword, he gestured for Ecthelion to attack him. “I must warn you though. It has been centuries since I last sparred.”

 

Ecthelion forced a smile onto his face, pretending not to see the pained expression in Erestor’s eyes. “I will go easy on you, then.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

One hour later, Ecthelion decided Erestor hadn’t been honest with him. “Mercy!” Erestor knew how to use a sword and had disarmed him several times. Not even Celeborn had managed to do that! Erestor was a different fighter than the Lord of the Golden Wood; the raven-haired Elf used every opening to teach him a lesson. /He is a much harder teacher than the others ever were./ And he had thought their sparring matches would be less tense? Ha!

 

Erestor aborted his attack and took a step back. “Tired?” Ecthelion had proven to be an excellent sparring partner, although still a bit inexperienced. He clearly recognized Celeborn’s fighting style in Ecthelion’s tactics and realized the younger Elf still needed to develop his own fighting style.

 

“Nay, not tired. Scared!” Ecthelion grinned, wickedly. “I never thought you could fight like that.”

 

Erestor’s expression darkened and he was serious when he addressed his student. “In times of war you have to fight for your life. Celeborn taught you how to wield a sword and I suspect Haldir taught you some defensive stances. But the attack is the most important part. You need to keep your enemies at a distance. Once they get too close you are on the defensive and you will have lost your advantage on them.”

 

“Will you teach me?”

 

/I will have to teach you,/ realized Erestor, /You were reborn to help us fight Evil and I cannot let you go onto the battle field without these skills./ Realizing Ecthelion was still waiting for his answer, Erestor nodded once. “I will.”

 

Ecthelion’s eyes simmered with the desire to learn and please. “When?”

 

“Not this afternoon. Arien is too high in the sky and it is growing too warm to train properly.” Erestor studied Ecthelion and regretted the loss of innocence that would occur once the younger Elf took a life for that very first time. /I wish I could keep the Evil away from you. But Elrond told me the Evil One is gathering his strength and it won’t be long before he tries to gain dominion over Arda again. And when that happens, you need to be ready./

 

Ecthelion wondered about the sorrowful look in Erestor’s eyes, but didn’t ask for an explanation – maybe even fearing the truth. Instead, he followed his tutor back into the house and helped him prepare lunch; all thoughts of war, death and evil momentarily forgotten.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Ecthelion’s hand hovered over the pile of books, which Erestor had placed on the windowsill only a moment ago. Cocking his head, he read the titles, realizing many of them were about Imladris, Mirkwood and Lothlórien; the great Elven realms. He was most curious to learn more of Imladris. Erestor had told him many things about Elrond’s realm last night, but he still wanted to hear more.

 

His fingers almost caressed the book on top, but he quickly pulled away. Books were precious to their owner and he didn’t want to touch them without Erestor’s permission.

 

“You may read them, if you want to,” said Erestor, who placed dinner onto the table. He had opted for a fish soup with freshly baked garlic bread.

 

“Are you certain?” Ecthelion was still slightly hesitant to take the book into his hand.

 

“Aye, I am certain.” Erestor managed to keep his amusement from his face. “Books are a source of knowledge and should be read. They are of little use unread.”

 

“Thank you!” Ecthelion selected a book on Imladris and eagerly opened it. The first page had a lovely drawing in soft pastels, depicting the Last Homely House. “I want to go there one day.”

 

“I am certain you will,” replied Erestor, knowing that once Ecthelion knew about Glorfindel, the Captain of the Fountain would seek out his former brother in arms and lover. “But first you need to eat. Join me.”

 

Ecthelion placed the book on the edge of the table, far away from the soup. “I like reading.”

 

Erestor nodded, pouring the soup into Ecthelion’s bowl, and serving him a generous amount of the bread. “Reading is the first step to attaining knowledge.” He sat down and began to eat his soup, occasionally dipping the bread into the liquid. After a while, he found that Ecthelion was watching him. “What is it?”

 

“I never saw anyone do that.”

 

It took Erestor a moment to figure out what Ecthelion was talking about. “Dipping the bread in my soup? It tasted very good. You should try it.”

 

Ecthelion did and chuckled, pushing the moist bread into his mouth. It did taste good.

 

Erestor was waiting for an opening to address last night’s nightmares, but Ecthelion always stayed clear of that subject. /What if he has them again tonight? Glorfindel sometimes suffers from them for weeks./ He knew he would go to Ecthelion to comfort him, but they needed to address the real problem; Ecthelion’s repressed memories. /But how can I do that without telling him about Gondolin and Glorfindel?/ In the end, Erestor decided to face one thing at a time and for now he concentrated on having dinner with his charge and making conversation to avoid awkward silences.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Ecthelion, would you fetch my lyre from my room?” Erestor was in the middle of cleaning up the mess he had made in the kitchen and planned on getting a fire going in the fireplace in a moment. He already looked forward to an evening full of music, chatter and laughter.

 

“But of course!” Eager to please, Ecthelion walked into Erestor’s room. He quickly scanned the room with his eyes and located the instrument. The moment he reached for it, a silvery reflection caught his attention. Horrified, he stared at the flute, which had been placed next to the lyre. Just seeing the instrument triggered his memory and an overwhelming roar invaded his ears. The sheer intensity of it took him back. He collapsed onto his knees and hugged his waist tightly. Rocking slowly, he tried to banish the music from his mind.

 

Realizing that it was taking Ecthelion an awful long time to collect his lyre, Erestor left the kitchen and joined his charge in his room. “Oh, nay…” He hurried over to the swaying Elf and knelt beside Ecthelion, who was using his hands to cover his ears. /Seeing the flute must have caused this!/ It was the only solution he could come up with!

 

The music continued to roll over him, ever-presented and demanding. Ecthelion vaguely realized someone had joined him, but he didn’t dare look at him.

 

“Ecthelion?” Erestor gently pried Ecthelion’s hands away from the younger Elf’s ears. “It is I, Erestor. Please look at me? Talk to me?” He moved into Ecthelion’s sight and gave the other Elf a weak smile. “Ecthelion? What is amiss? Please tell me. You can confide in me.”

 

“The flutes… The music… It is all around me and it won’t stop.” Pleadingly, he raised his eyes and looked into Erestor’s compassionate ones. “Please make it stop?”

 

Ecthelion’s tone almost broke his heart and Erestor used the same tactics as he had last night; rocking the younger Elf and whispering soothingly. A few minutes later his efforts paid off and Ecthelion calmed down. /Will the nightmares return tonight to torment him in his sleep?/ If that was the case, Ecthelion would need him again tonight.

 

“Only you can make it stop, Ecthelion,” said Erestor eventually. The expression in Ecthelion’s eyes calmed further and the advisor rose from the floor, taking Ecthelion with him. Now that they were back on their feet again, Erestor found he had to steady Ecthelion, who swayed. “Come with me.” Erestor took Ecthelion’s arm and led him into the living room, where he sat the younger Elf down in a comfortable chair. Pulling another chair close, he seated himself as well.

 

Ecthelion instinctively reached for Erestor’s hands and refused to let go when he had established a firm hold on them.

 

“You need to address this,” said Erestor, “Ignoring or repressing the nightmares won’t solve the problem. You have to face whatever haunts you.”

 

Confiding in Erestor – whom he had only known a few days—was hard on Ecthelion, but in the end his need to talk won. “It was the flute… Suddenly, their music was all around me… and underneath it I heard feet, marching.”

 

Erestor knew he had to tread carefully. Where was Mithrandir when he needed him?

 

“During the night, when I have those nightmares, I hear that sound too,” said Ecthelion, averting his eyes. “Am I losing my mind?”

 

“Nay,” said Erestor, who had reached a very important decision, “You are not losing your mind. You are remembering.”

 

“Remembering? Remembering what?” Ecthelion moved closer to Erestor. His entire life, he had asked Celeborn and Galadriel questions, but had never received a satisfactory answer. Would Erestor now finally tell him the truth?

 

Ecthelion’s hold on his hands tightened and Erestor could practically sense the younger Elf’s need to hear the truth. /Mithrandir, I cannot lie to him./

 

“Erestor? Please?”

 

“You are remembering your first life on Arda, Ecthelion.”

 

*That* was not what Ecthelion had expected to hear and he stared in Erestor in shock. “Please tell me more. Tell me what I need to know to banish these horrid memories from my mind.”

 

Erestor suddenly regretted being honest with Ecthelion, wondering just how much he could tell the younger Elf without endangering his charge’s sanity. He would have to dose all information very, very carefully and he still couldn’t tell him about Gondolin and Glorfindel. This was truly a delicate matter, one, which he hoped he could handle.

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