Title: You Are Still The One.
Author: Morgana
Email addy: morganalebeau@yahoo.com
Website; http://www.avalon.cobweb.nl/
Pairing(s): Glorfindel/Erestor, Elrond/Elros
Rating: R
Summary: Elladan happens upon an injured half-Elf with amnesia and Elrond
volunteers to care for the poor soul. Elladan is determined to find the
perpetrators and endangers his own life/safety in doing so.
Disclaimer: These characters are all Tolkien’s.
Warning: AU.
Author’s Note: Beta read by Aduial, thanks so much! And a thank you to
Ilye, for her help.
You Are Still The One.
Part 3
Warm, comfortable and in considerably less pain than that he had been
before; that was how he felt right now. The mattress he was resting on was
comfortable and the blankets that covered him warm and soft. He couldn’t
remember the last time he had felt like this; but then again, he didn’t
remember much to begin with.
“How do you fare, my friend? Can you hear me?” Elrohir, who was seated
in a chair beside the bed, wondered how to act. His fingers had long curled
around his patient’s in an effort to soothe, and so far the stranger hadn’t
shaken off the offered limb. “You are safe here. We want to help.”
/Help…/ The word itself meant little to him, but the tone of the voice
did. The tone was caring and reassuring, and he couldn’t remember anyone
speaking like him in that manner before. No, wait… A few hours ago someone else
had tried to soothe him. There had been several voices, actually, but only one
had remained with him, and it wasn’t the one he was hearing now.
Growing more aware of his physical state, he gasped softly at the lack
of pain in his body. He had been in agony the last time he had been awake, but
now something calming, cooling and healing had been smoothed over his bruised
skin. He still lived in darkness, but the bandages felt comfortable and offered
his eyes a chance to rest and recover.
“My name is Elrohir and I am a friend. You are in Imladris, the Last
Homely House to be precise. You are safe here.” Elrohir, at a loss what to say,
continued to repeat himself. “You are safe. No one is going to hurt you.”
He wished he could believe those words, but he wasn’t sure he could. But
then again, the pain had lessened considerably. It would be nice to believe
this Elrohir and surrender to a sense of safety. Cruel reality would intrude on
him too quickly again anyway.
“You are beginning to heal. Don’t try to talk or move about too much.
You need to rest.” Elrohir’s gaze was drawn toward the doorway and was relieved
when Elrond and Erestor finally appeared, closely followed by Glorfindel. “I am
glad you are here, Adar. I don’t know what to do.”
Elrond moved closer toward the bed, and when Elrohir vacated his chair,
Elrond sat down instead. He quickly claimed his patient’s hand, eager to establish
a connection with the stranger once more. “I am Elrond -- a healer.”
Yes! Yes! That was the soothing voice, which he remembered from the day
before. His fingers squeezed Elrond’s instinctively, unwilling to let him
vanish. A guttural sound left his throat; his first attempt at speech. But his
battered jaw still hurt and prevented him from forming words.
“Don’t tire yourself, my friend. Elrohir is right; you should rest.”
Elrond tenderly rubbed the back of his patient’s hand. He easily detected his
charge’s pain and instinctively tried to soothe him, sending a tiny amount of
healing energy into the other Elf’s mind. “Please drink some water before you
go back to sleep.”
Water… Cool, sparkling water. He’d had visions of it just prior to
waking up. When had been the last time he had drunk fresh water? Slowly nodding
his head, he tugged on the hand in his, hoping his savior understood.
Elrond smiled, ruefully. “Hand me some water, Elrohir.” His gaze shifted
from his patient to Elrohir; behind his son stood Erestor and Glorfindel, their
faces revealing every ounce of the compassion and sympathy they felt for their
charge.
Elrohir filled a cup with water and handed it to his father. Once more
standing back, he tried to swallow past the lump of emotions that had formed in
his throat.
“Sip slowly,” advised Elrond, placing the rim of the cup against
trembling lips.
Greedily, he swallowed the precious liquid, and a soft sigh escaped him.
The water tasted divine. Sipping some more, he made certain he still had a
tight hold on the other’s hand; as far as he was concerned, he wouldn’t allow
his savior to leave.
Elrond’s features showed compassion and understanding as the tendrils of
his mind were probing his patient’s, sensing gratitude and hope. “Slowly,” he
cautioned when water dripped from the lips. He wanted to support his patient’s
head, but the injured half-Elf refused to release his hand.
Erestor, who involuntarily leaned in closer toward Glorfindel for
comfort, whispered into the other’s ear, “His recovery will take a long time.”
“But you are certain he will recover?” whispered Glorfindel in turn,
surprised but also delighted when Erestor touched the small of his back,
tenderly resting his hand there. It was a strangely possessive and protective
gesture that he normally wouldn’t associate with the dark-haired advisor. And
he leaned in closer in turn.
“Elrond will see to that,” stated Erestor, confidently. “Can’t you see
that familiar gleam has returned to his eye? It disappeared when Celebrían sailed
for Aman. It is back now; look closely and you will see.”
Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed, searching Elrond’s gaze. And yes, Erestor
was right. That gleam was back. A heavy burden was lifted from his shoulders,
realizing Elrond would overcome losing his wife. “You are right.”
Erestor nodded thoughtfully, only now realizing his hand rested at the
small of the blond’s back. When had he reached out? His eyes widened slightly,
realizing Glorfindel wasn’t moving away from him. The blond allowed the touch,
had even leaned in closer. A smile formed on his face and his gaze met
Glorfindel’s.
Glorfindel returned the smile, determined to discuss this development
later. He had to be reading the signs, which Erestor was emitting, correctly.
The advisor *was* interested in him!
A soft moan, coming from their patient, drew everyone’s attention.
Elrond immediately moved closer, maintaining the weak connection he had managed
to create between them.
“The pain will lessen in time,” Elrond promised. After disposing of the
now empty cup, he stroked the long, raven hair, which easily reached the
other’s hips. He couldn’t help but wonder what his charge would look like once
the swelling went down and the bruises had faded. “My friend, can you tell us
your name?” It would help create a tighter bond if he could address his charge
properly.
/My name?/ He had forgotten his name, and couldn’t remember what his
life had been like before they had hurt him so badly. He shook his head once,
hoping Elrond understood.
“Does that mean you don’t want to tell us?” inquired Elrohir, surprised.
“No, it means he doesn’t remember,” corrected Elrond, who had caught
that particular thought in his charge’s mind. Thoughtfully, he studied his
patient. “But you need a name.”
/Then give me one./ He felt lost in this darkness and Elrond’s hand was
his only link to the outside world. A name might strengthen that connection. He
had stumbled from a situation in which he had known only pain, into one where
reassurance and safety was offered, something which he craved so badly.
“A name,” whispered Elrond, taking his time to think of an appropriate
name for his charge.
“
Glorfindel gave the dark-haired advisor an approving smile. “A new
beginning, yes.
Elrond nodded in agreement. “
Erestor bowed his head momentarily. “I am glad you approve.”
Elrond’s gaze then shifted away from Erestor and back to his patient. “
Slowly nodding his head, he continued to tighten his hold on Elrond’s
hand, never considering the hold might have become painful at this point. /
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His sleep had been surprisingly calm and restful, undisturbed by the
frightening thoughts that usually haunted him. Warm fingers were curled around
his, rubbing his knuckles in a comforting way. A smile formed on his face, and
he ignored the pain that followed now that his facial muscles were put to work.
“How do you fare this morn?” Elrond had kept vigil at his patient’s bed
and had soothed away any unpleasant thoughts or images, ensuring a peaceful
sleep. However, after witnessing certain images in
Attempting speech, he stuttered, “Wa…ter?”
Elrond smiled brilliantly. “But of course!” This half-Elf was wrapped in
mystery and he was determined to find out the truth. It was odd; he felt more
alive than he ever had. Reaching for the carafe, he filled a cup with fresh
spring water. Elrond carefully sat down on the side of the bed and smiled
warmly, even though his patient couldn’t see it. “You will have to let go of my
hand if you want to drink properly.”
He didn’t want to let go… But he didn’t want to remain thirsty either,
and in the end his thirst won over his need for contact. He let go of Elrond’s
hand reluctantly, shivering briefly at the loss of the physical contact. But
then Elrond’s warm hand cradled the back of his neck, supporting him and thusly
making it easier for him to sip.
Elrond sensed
“The bandages have to remain in place for at least three more days.”
A deep sigh escaped
“I am not certain,” said Elrond in all honesty. “I don’t want to instill
any false hope in you. Much depends on your ability to heal.” His patient’s
raspy voice told him that
/Thank you for being honest./ He appreciated that Elrond wasn’t telling
him lies in order to make him feel better. If he was to remain blind for the
rest of his life, it was best to know so right from the start.
Elrond placed the now empty cup aside and allowed
He squeezed once, indicating he had understood, but a part of him was
afraid of Elrond’s questions. Why, he didn’t know, for he didn’t remember who
he was or why he had been treated in such a cruel way.
Elrond knew he had to tread carefully, unwilling to do anything to cause
his patient distress. “Are you in much pain?” Two squeezes followed, reassuring
him. “That’s good. Are you comfortable?” One squeeze. “I see,” he said,
smiling. “You are in Imladris. Did you do know that?” Another squeeze. Elrond
carefully considered his next question. “Do you remember your real name?”
Distress appeared on
He wished Elrond would stop asking his questions. Quickly squeezing
twice, he began to pull his knees closer to his chest, wanting to curl up in a
fetal position.
“I am sorry that my questions made you feel uncomfortable, but I need to
know these things if I am to help.” As his right hand was already confined to
/I don’t want to remember!/ In spite of his raging emotions,
“You are in a state of shock at the moment,” whispered Elrond, who
continued to stroke the long, dark hair, “but I promise you will continue to
grow better. I will see to that.”
Finding comfort in Elrond’s words,
“You are half-Elven,” said Elrond, thoughtfully.
/Half-Elven?/ Confused, he wanted Elrond to explain this to him, but
then the most sensual sensation he had ever felt followed, making him melt from
the inside. Soft fingertips ran along his ear, leaving the earlobe after a
gentle caress. His body stirred in a most unexpected way and he blushed
fiercely.
Elrond couldn’t help being amused by that particular reaction. “Yes, you
are half-Elven as well.”
/As well?/
“I was born half-Elven, my friend. When the time came for me to decide
my destiny, I chose to belong to the Firstborn. But your time hasn’t arrived
yet. You are a young soul, but yes, one day you will be asked to decide your
fate and I hope you will choose wisely.” Elrond sensed that making such a
decision was the last thing on his charge’s mind. “But I am getting ahead of
myself. First you need to recover.”
/Will I? Make a full recovery? And will you watch over me?/ He couldn’t
quite explain why Elrond’s continued presence in his life was so important, but
it was. Since Elrond had entered his life, things had greatly improved and the
Elf had quickly become his life line. He didn’t wish to be separated from him.
“I will stay close,” promised Elrond. “From time to time I will have to
leave as my duties will call me away from your side, but I will always return
here.” Elrond hoped those words reassured
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Glorfindel’s blood froze in his veins, when a terrifying scream echoed
through the corridor; he had been on his way to his private rooms when he heard
it. Spinning around, he had quickly located the source of the wail, and broke
out in a run, heading for Erestor’s chambers. He drew his sword from its
scabbard and flung open the door, storming into the room, ready to defend
Erestor from his attackers. But what he found was a trembling dark-haired Elf,
sitting upright in his bed, tightly clutching a pillow. The dark, chocolate
brown eyes were still at half-mast, heavy with a dream-filled sleep. Another
pleading yelp left Erestor’s lips.
Glorfindel quickly put his sword back into the scabbard after realizing
the truth. Carefully, he approached the trembling advisor. “Erestor? It is I,
Glorfindel.” Was it really a nightmare that had made Erestor scream out like
that? /That must have been a horrific dream then!/ He quickly covered the
distance to the bed, sat down, and folded his arms around the horrified looking
Elf. To his surprise, Erestor didn’t struggle against him; the raven-haired Elf
even pressed his body close to his, shivering fiercely. “I am here now. You are
safe. It was just a dream. A bad dream.”
/A dream…/ But Erestor knew better. /It wasn’t a dream. It really
happened, Glorfindel./ But he couldn’t tell the blond that. Glorfindel would
question him and he couldn’t take that risk. In this emotional state he might
actually answer Glorfindel’s questions!
“You feel cold.” Glorfindel frowned deeply. Elves didn’t normally feel
cold! Eager to share his body warmth with the advisor, he pulled Erestor even
closer to his body. Oh, yes, Erestor fit against him perfectly!
“Glorfindel…” Erestor mumbled the name against the blond’s chest when
Glorfindel refused to let go of him.
“What is the matter? You can’t breath?”
“No, I can breath!” Erestor reassured, quickly. He loved the way
Glorfindel held him so protectively, and he hoped the embrace would never stop.
“Ah, then there is no reason to let you go just yet. You still feel cold
and shaky.” Erestor felt so right in his arms that he was severely tempted to
lay the other Elf down and make love to him. But then the tremors that still
coursed through Erestor’s body registered with him and he felt guilty for not
considering the dark-haired Elf’s needs first. “Why don’t you tell me what the
dream was about? Maybe it will help.”
Erestor was tempted to tell Glorfindel -- not including any names or
mentioning this had truly happened millennia ago -- and when the blond began to
rock him and sing softly, all resistance melted away. “I once lost someone very
dear to me.”
Glorfindel stopped singing, and fought the urge to pull away so he could
look Erestor in the eye. Instead, he held Erestor closer. “Please continue.”
“I was in love with him for a very long time, but his heart belonged to another;
I never had a chance with him.” Erestor recalled his time in Gondolin, living
in the white city as one of Turgon’s advisors. Glorfindel and he had never met,
as he preferred to work in the background, never revealing himself. Turgon had
allowed this, eager to keep him in his service as an advisor.
Glorfindel frowned deeply, but at the same time he felt ecstatic,
hearing that Erestor preferred males. He had often wondered about the other
Elf’s preference. “What happened next?”
“He was injured in battle and his lover died.” Erestor moistened his
lips, realizing a white lie was in order. “He was nursed back to health, but
instead of letting himself love again he clung to his lost love.” Would he ever
be able to tell Glorfindel the truth? That he had loved the golden-haired
warrior from afar, and that when Elrond had suggested bringing Glorfindel back
he had volunteered part of his life force? That he had supplied the life energy
Elrond had needed in order to return Glorfindel to Arda? That his life energy
had been limited ever since? That he felt cold when Arda was warm, and lonely
because Glorfindel was out of his reach? /Not out of reach now,/ he reminded
himself. Erestor pressed close against Glorfindel, soaking up the other Elf’s
body warmth. Glorfindel was seldom this close, and had never held him in such a
manner, and he savored each moment.
Glorfindel swallowed hard, hearing pain and longing in Erestor’s voice.
“Then he was a fool and not worthy of your love.”
Erestor gasped at those words. Slowly, he lifted his head to make eye
contact with the blond. They were so close – only inches apart and their lips
almost touching. He had wanted this for so long; had wanted to taste Glorfindel
and hold him in his arms -- wanted to call him his beloved. And then Glorfindel
had begun to lean in closer, to touch him occasionally, and now the warrior
refused to let go of him. Was this really happening?
Realizing he had already passed up one chance, Glorfindel took charge of
the situation and gently pressed his lips against Erestor’s, instigating a slow
and sensual kiss. Erestor surged against him, hungrily, eagerly, and Glorfindel
realized he had been right all along; the attraction *was* mutual! Taking
advantage of the moment, he slipped one hand behind Erestor’s neck, supporting
his head and preventing him from pulling away. Glorfindel deepened the kiss,
and purred softly when Erestor eagerly returned the kiss, wrapping an exploring
tongue around his in a heated duel.
Erestor couldn’t believe this was really happening after so many
millennia of longing and unrequited love on his part. Unrequited no more, as he
had just found out, but he had always thought himself chanceless, knowing only
too well that Glorfindel had never really dealt with Ecthelion’s death. But
Glorfindel was kissing him -- with a desperate urge it almost seemed. He
tightened his hold on the blond instinctively, and couldn’t help producing soft
mews, encouraging Glorfindel to continue their kissing.
When they were finally forced to stop because they were running out
breath, they stared at each other, feeling uncertain where this left them.
Glorfindel was the first to find his voice again and to address Erestor. “I
have wanted to tell you how I feel for so long, but each time the opportune moment
came along something ruined it.”
“How *do* you feel about me?” asked Erestor in a trembling voice,
unwilling to release the blond just yet. He clung feverishly to Glorfindel,
making sure his beloved couldn’t walk out on him.
“I love you,” said Glorfindel, without any hesitation at all. “I love
you.” Smiling smugly, he kissed the tip of Erestor’s nose. “So, are you going
to tell me how you feel?”
Erestor managed a weak smile, which added considerably to the attraction
Glorfindel already felt. /Adorable,/ thought Glorfindel, /that blush makes him
utterly adorable!/
Erestor gathered his courage and spoke words he had thought he never
would. “I love you too. I have loved you for a long time.” He waited for
Glorfindel to make all necessary connections and when understanding appeared in
the sky-blue eyes, he confirmed the other Elf’s assumptions. “I lived in
Gondolin for a short time, and I always saw you from afar. I fell in love with
you, and when you returned to join Elrond’s household, I grew hopeful that you
would one day feel the same way about me.”
“I never knew,” whispered Glorfindel, dazed. “Then you must have been
very happy to see me join Elrond’s household.” A cheeky grin surfaced on his
face. “Námo never mentioned I would find a new love here, but then again, he
didn’t say much.” Erestor paled, and Glorfindel wondered why. “Erestor?”
But no, this wasn’t the right moment to confide his secret to Glorfindel
and Erestor merely shook his head. “It is nothing. Don’t concern yourself.
Probably a residue of that nightmare.”
“That nightmare,” said Glorfindel thoughtfully, and finally catching on,
“was it about me?”
Erestor swallowed hard, realizing he wouldn’t get away with lying. Nor
did he want to lie to Glorfindel. “Yes.”
Glorfindel massaged the back of Erestor’s neck with one hand, whilst the
other drew soothing circles on the dark-haired Elf’s back. “Was it about what
happened in Gondolin or…?”
“I wasn’t in Gondolin during that last, fatal attack,” explained
Erestor. /I am sorry, my love, but I cannot tell you yet that it was my life
force that restored you to life. Elrond merely sent out the call to Námo./ He
needed to distract Glorfindel so the blond would stop asking him questions
about his nightmare, so he rubbed his cheek against the warrior’s shoulder,
sighing contently. “This feels nice.”
“Yes, it does,” purred Glorfindel, running his fingers though Erestor’s
long mane. “Does this mean I may court you -- officially?”
Erestor smiled against Glorfindel’s shoulder, thoroughly amused. “You
want to court me?”
“Oh, yes, I do. I am a romantic at heart, or I have been told so.” He
had wooed Ecthelion extensively, though the other warrior had assured him it
wasn’t necessary. “I like the game of courtship. I would like to make you mine,
properly. To walk with you beneath the stars, recite poetry, hold you -- kiss
you.”
“I hope you want to do more than just kiss me,” teased Erestor,
overjoyed that Glorfindel loved him back.
“I will – eventually,” promised Glorfindel, pressing a chaste kiss on
the top of Erestor’s head. “Now that I have you, I will never let you go.”
“I might hold you to that promise.”
“I expect nothing less from you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Elladan? We sighted fire. This pack is very careless.”
“They don’t know that we are near -- following them,” mumbled Elladan,
considering his next step. “We will remain hidden for now.” They were
outnumbered and if there was a head-on confrontation they would lose the fight.
“We will take up position high in the trees. We cannot afford for them to find
us, so tell everyone to proceed very carefully.” Elladan watched them move
quickly and soundlessly, securing their places in the branches. A deep sense of
foreboding overcame him, almost making him feel queasy. Something felt wrong,
something felt off, and he was determined to act very cautiously. He wouldn’t
let the fate that had befallen that injured half-Elf happen to his men. They
would stay well out of reach.
At least he hoped so.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Orders were issued quickly, and the horses turned around. Estel led the
Rangers into the direction Erestor had pointed him and he hoped they would
intercept the pack of Orcs and Men before Elladan happened upon them. It wasn’t
that he didn’t trust Elladan to defend himself properly -- the half-Elf had
been one of his teachers -- but the fact was that the Elven party was grossly
outnumbered and would probably lose the fight.
Looking over his shoulder, he felt confident that his party could take
on the scavenging Orcs and Men. His own party consisted of thirty Rangers --
most of them experienced warriors. What he really hoped for was meeting up with
Elladan’s party before taking on the enemy, but would he arrive in time?
Realizing speed was of the essence, he urged his steed to go faster.