True Bow (Cuthenin)

Cuthenin (True-Bow)

by F.E.Morton

unbeta'd

italics = thoughts

(elvish translation)

Disclaimer: just borrowing, the characters and settings are Tolkien's,
the words here are mine. No money earned.

Summary: A look at what might happen if Legolas was just known as a
messenger and not as Thranduil's son. The setting is just before the
Council of Elrond. Features Glorfindel/Legolas
pairing.

Note: My apologies for the delay; the holidays were more hectic than I
thought they would be and I did not get any writing done on this story.
Also, just finished catching up the chapters only to have two of them wiped out, along with the reviews for them! I have replaced them, thanks to Daphne for alerting me to the problem, and have tried to restore as many of the review replies as I could recall. Thank you to everyone here reading and especially to those reviewing.

In this chapter, though I am sure most folks know this stuff already,
reference is made to the Star of Eärendil, the last Silmaril, and
it is associated with Venus. This is not my idea, it is what Tolkien
lore enthusiasts have determined through studying his letters and
notes. The position of the Evening Star to the moon is accurate in the
northern hemisphere for this time of the year, though I do not have a
program written that calculates the phase of the moon the night before
the Council of Elrond (If anybody does, let me know!) so the crescent
is just my imagination. It was thus in 2004.

I know I promised the death ritual, but it seems to me now I had my
chapters reversed, for this situation with Erestor needs to be
clarified before Glorfindel can participate in such an important
activity.

Cheers,

Fred

December 10, 2005

Paenui Peth: Hin vi Tinnu (Part Ten: Eyes in the Twilight)

Galdor decided it was pointless to try and conceal the long hours
Legolas had spent in his chambers, considering the news of it had
probably already spread throughout the household, and led him to the
main passage and down to the first floor. Cuthenin was a bit shaky on
his feet due to the effects of the miruvor and Galdor kept a steadying
hand upon the archer's elbow as they walked. Ironically, they
encountered no one in the corridors and made the journey out the rear
door without incident. Yet, though they did not meet anyone along the
way, their progress was not unobserved.

Erestor's page, Lochgaer, had followed the emissary from Mithlond and
the Wood Elf from the dining hall, on instructions from his Lord, and
then stood vigil outside the elder's suite. Thus had he been so ready
to hand when Galdor sought aid in acquiring wood for a fire in the
hearth. Hidden in a shadowed alcove near the turning of the stairs, the
aspiring diplomat had also learned of tea with the Hobbits and
presently watched the two elves depart the chambers together a second
time.


Lochgaer trailed them long enough to note the direction their
exit would take, concluding correctly the destination was Glorfindel's
abode, for Aragorn's efforts to make the lowly talan comfortable had
not gone unremarked among the staff. Finally free of his task, the page
hastened to make his report to Erestor and then share his evaluation of
the messenger with his contemporaries.

Oblivious to this, Galdor and his ward proceeded through the grounds.
Abruptly, Legolas halted and his immobility forced the noble Lord of
the Tree to cease moving also. Paused in the herb garden between the
kitchen and the main house, the Wood Elf stared in blatant delight at
the uncovered expanse of menel, eyes reflecting the icy sparkle of the
moon and the Evening Star. 

The
clouds had moved on without dropping their cargo of moisture upon the
valley of the Bruinen and the last hints of Anor's rays had fled from
the lower reaches of the welkin. The atmosphere shaded from a pale and
hazy lavender hue into a deepening indigo near the zenith of the outer
circle of Arda's boundary with the void.


Only the brightest points had yet appeared in the heavens but Ithil was
already climbing the twilit dome of the evening sky and shone
brilliantly, a mithril crescent shadowed by the Silmaril of
Eärendil. Thinêl (Venus - Eärendil's Star) crowded
close to the shimmering sickle, boldly poised in splendorous gleam,
outshining every other jewel visible in the velvet veil of night.

"Tirion takes counsel with the Mariner," Legolas whispered, sharing a
jubilant grin with his newly chosen Tirn'wador.

It seemed as an omen
for him, a signal of the right choice he had made in permitting an
outlander such an important role in his life. Just as Tirion often
wandered on his course and needed Eärendil's guidance, so too
would he require the sage advice of a Guardian in order to navigate the
difficult path that lay ahead. "In Greenwood, it is rare to have such
an uncluttered view of the sky. Tonight it will be filled with stars; I
could look upon them for hours and not grow weary of the sight."

"Aye, this is a fine place to observe the beauty of Varda's gift to
elfkind. Yet Imladris cannot boast the numbers visible from the beach. In
Mithlond, menel seems to take up more of the space than the ground, for
the sea remains dreary and restless through the dark hours. There is
nothing to draw the eye away from contemplation of the numerous
constellations. Many enjoy observing the stars while stretched out on
the warm white sands of the falas (shore)."

"I would like to do that."

"Mayhap someday you shall. I would welcome you in my home."

Legolas allowed himself to be tugged into motion again and the pair
continued through the quiet grounds. It was a time for rest after the
day's labours, a break before the formal evening meal was served and
the camaraderie shared afterward in the Hall of Fire, and few elves
were out on the paths and by-ways. Legolas found this strange, for in
Greenwood the trees were never empty and the twilight was as likely a
time as any other to encounter one's friends and neighbours.


More so, if one desires privacy during tinnu (twilight) a
screen needs be drawn about the talan. Not for the last
time, he considered how very different each of the elven realms was
from the others. Mithlond seemed strangest of all, considering its
conjunction to the Sundering Sea.

"What is the ocean like, Tirn'wador?"

"I could not hope to describe it to you acurately." Galdor reflected in silence for a moment before resuming. "It is like a lake that is
endless, yet its surface is a deep green rather than the clear blue
seen at Evendim. It is not smooth and reflecting like the waters at
Long Lake but quivers, trembling and tumbling over itself as a running
stream trips upon stones.


"It sings perpetually like a river yet its
voice is low and rises from the abyssal depths, exhaling in a sorrowful
lament that fills the air, underscoring every other sound and
infiltrating to one's very soul. Its song resembles the beating of a mighty
heart so omnipresent is it and yet one never tires of hearing its
rhythmic surge and pull.

"And it is filled with living things even as a river or lake. Sometimes
great beasts, larger than many of the ships I have been on, can be seen
rolling with the waves and blowing high fountains of mist and water
into the air. They have no arms or legs, as fish do not, yet neither
have they shimmering scales nor gills for breathing. To look into their
eyes you would swear there is a thinking mind staring back upon you,
and it is clear these are not ordinary swimmers. Dinin Thuiadryn
(Underwater Breathers) they are called.


"There are others of similar
kind, smaller and finer in appearance, that love to swim alongside the
boats as we go out upon the swells. They seem to smile and chatter a
strange speech almost, so intelligent is their demeanour."

"Ai! Why have I never heard of such wondrous creatures?"

"You live among the trees, Legolas. I would guess no one in Greenwood
has ever sailed upon Aeron and returned to speak of it."

"Nay there must be some remaining who came from Beleriand and stood
upon the falas before turning away to march east."

"Well, perhaps you are right and yet I am doubtful. The reason has to
do with the call of the sea. Among the Teleri, love of the ocean runs
strong in the blood. Once awakened there is no peace for the heart or
mind as long as an elf remains away from it. The Wood Elves would be
tormented to see this wonder and then return to the world of branches
and green leaves.


"Any silvan exposed to Aeron would perpetually hear
the song of the surf and smell the salt in the watery air, pining for
it and eventually grieving over the loss. Once sea-longing sets in,
there is no relief for the afflicted save passage to Aman."

"Could they not reside beside the ocean as your folk do?"

"Some do for long years, reluctant to leave behind family and the lives
they have known, yet these are mostly those with some Sindar or Noldor
blood in their pedigrees. I have observed numerous silvan elves, mostly
Galadhrim, who arrive in the Havens escorting family or friends wishing
to leave Middle-earth. Some cannot turn away and depart along with
their loved ones. Others gather up their courage and go from the
seaside, returning to their homes and kin for a time, sometimes for
centuries. Yet they always come back to the coast and sail away for
Aman in the end."

"Your words dishearten me, for while I would dearly like to meet these
Dinin Thuiadryn, I would not wish to be torn from Greenwood and my
people because of it."

By now the pair were far from the main house and nearing Glorfindel's
walled garden. The Balrog Slayer was not within, however, having left
with his warriors before annûn for night patrol as on the
previous evening. A lighted lantern hung from an elegantly wrought post
at the gate and illuminated the garden path beside his house. Galdor
stopped there and released Legolas' arm.

"Will you be all right on your own from here?" the elder asked with a
kindly smile.

"Aye, Trin'wador. I thank you for the escort yet I would have found my
way without it. I have no need of a nursemaid to see me through the
next hours," Legolas answered, no longer mindful of his tongue in the
ancient elf's presence thanks to a lingering, light-headed feeling of
intoxication.

"Indeed! Yet I did not wish you to take a wrong turn and end up in a
strange place. The miruvor drink still has you in its grip and that is
as I intended. Think on what we have discussed and then sleep for a
time. When you wake, seek me out and we shall conduct Pennas Lunnen
(History Sung). Let all within the Hall of Fire know the valour of your
comrades."

"Aye, Tirn'wador, that is fitting." Legolas' felt pleased to be offered
the chance to present the story of his friends' lives to the Noldor.
All shall hear of the strength found among the Wood
Elves. "Aniron Galu lín, Sadron." (I desire your
Blessing, Sadron.)

Galdor inclined his head solemnly and placed the palm of his right hand
over Legolas' heart. "Bellas ar Ithor en Tawar le beria; Sîdh a
Post en Estë le toba. Oltho mae, Cuthenin." (The Strength and
Wisdom of Tawar protect you; the Peace and Rest of Estë cover you.
Dream well, True-bow.)

"Le hantëan, Tirn'wador." (I thank you, Guardian.) Legolas bowed
his head gratefully and when he raised it to meet Galdor's eyes found
his heart lightened even as the elder's touch left him. He smiled.
"Ab'eveditham." (We shall meet later.)

"Ab'eveditham." Galdor watched beside the gate until he could no longer
see the archer's form and then returned to the Last Homely House,
hoping to speak with Elrond and Mithrandir before the evening meal.

Legolas entered through the gate and continued on across the silent
walled gardens surrounding Glorfindel's house, glancing curiously at
the darkened abode as he passed. Glorfindel's home was not even half as
large or grand as the Last Homely House yet even so it had two levels
and the same high-peaked red-tiled roof. He wondered how the re-born
warrior's decor would differ but the curtains were drawn and Legolas
could not see in, to his disappointment. Legolas was tempted to try the
door and see if he might at least peer inside, yet he resisted the urge
and continued to the grove of oaks.

Once under the cover of the ever-leaved hardwoods, the light of Ithil
diminished and it was more difficult to make things out. Legolas
climbed using direction from the tree itself since this was but the
second time he had been in its branches and as yet did not know by rote
the best route upwards. No sooner had he achieved the platform and
taken a step than his foot collided with a heavy metal object and he
exclaimed in dismay.


That was not here before.


Realising the interior was no longer free of clutter, Cuthenin waited
for his vision to adjust and then made his way cautiously through the
looming obstacles of solid furnishings toward a brighter spot close to
the trunk. There his hand discovered a lantern and a flint on the table
beside it, and this he lighted in order to get a look at his quarters.

He had to laugh.

Aragorn had gone to a great deal of trouble to make the old talan more
appealing, and thus it was crammed with all manner of things Legolas
would never have a use for in his everyday life. A small round table
and two chairs were collected in one corner right next to the wrought
iron brazier on which he had just stubbed his tow. A washstand was set
up on the opposite corner complete with a large supply of extra towels
and toiletries, a boar bristle hairbrush, a tortoiseshell comb, a
nail-file, and mirror.


There was even a settee with space enough for
two people and a pair of matching cushions large enough for seating on
the floor. The wooden planks were no longer strewn with leaves and
twigs but swept clean, and upon them lay no less than three carpets of
thick soft wool.

Beyond all this was a thick feather mattress so large the silvan was
certain it had been pulled from someone's bedstead. It was laid out on
the floor on the west facing side of the talan, and this happened to
provide the platform's only open view through the trees. Legolas
already knew the vista included the Last Homely House and the cascading
falls beyond it.


The softly plump sleeping pallet was covered over with
an exquisitely embroidered, green satin coverlet. There were pillows
and extra blankets galore piled upon this bed and Legolas had to wonder
what the human imagined his normal resting habits might be to supply
such luxury for a physical requirement that visited him so seldom. He
certainly would not find such repose this night despite Tirn'wador's
instruction to do so.

Cuthenin shook his head and smiled, making his way by the light of the
lamp to a large trunk situated so as to double as a bedside table. It
must be the one from the closet in the main house, he surmised, noting
the painted scenes on its exterior. He lifted the lid and found within
more of the paper wrapped, labelled garments from the man's early
adulthood, so many he could change attire every hour and not run out of
clothing to wear for several days. Nearby were the customary wicker
baskets: one for clothes in need of laundering and another for carrying
necessities to the baths. Aragorn had seen to everything and the archer
gave thought to expressing his appreciation for such abundant courtesy.

He has fought with my brothers and knows the austerity of a
silvan warrior's life. Aragorn hopes to make my stay here as different
from that as may be.

Legolas shut the lid and set his lamp upon it, deciding he should at
least attempt to adhere to his Guardian's counsel. He still had the
elder's cloak about his shoulders and this he laid aside neatly, for
though he had been inexplicably cold throughout the day he now found
his temperature uncomfortably elevated. The reason was not difficult to
divine; the discussion regarding his feelings toward Glorfindel had
heated him up so that he longed for nothing more than to discard every
scrap of fabric covering his body. Doing so would tend to inspire
following Tirn'wador's first directive to think on their conversation
and that would lead him to finally confront his overt and aching
arousal.

It crossed his mind briefly to see if there was a privacy screen stowed
away somewhere but he discarded the notion; the elves of Imladris did
not inhabit the trees and thus there was no one nearby to observe him.
Cuthenin disrobed, never imagining that his actions might provide
entertainment for someone so far beyond his immediate perception.

Pacing within his study in the Last Homely House, Erestor was fraught
with curiosity over Lochgaer's report. He knew the Lord from Mithlond
was some sort of spiritual leader among those still clinging to the
ancient superstitions, yet wondered what could require so long a
conference behind closed doors.


And what of the elder's failed
attempt to ensure the meeting's secrecy?

The Chief Advisor
suddenly wished he did know more about the Wood Elves' customs. Why
would the silvan enter Galdor's rooms under his own power then require
aid to walk upright upon leaving? The page had said Legolas looked
slightly inebriated, and such a state did not seem consistent with any
sort of sacred ritual in Erestor's opinion.

For what purpose would Galdor ply the youth with drink enough
to make him intoxicated? Not a noble one, I am thinking. Mayhap the
Lord of the Tree has succumbed to his baser instincts and debauched the
youth.

Yet as soon as the thought occurred he rejected it; Galdor was not
partial to males, from all accounts the Chief Advisor had heard, and
his conduct was never disreputable.

Then what is this about?

Erestor considered following the pair and paying a call on the
messenger but then had a better idea, one that would ensure he did not
run into Galdor on the way there. Quickly he snatched up one of his
optical devises and hastened to the observatory. If he was lucky then
he would be able to satisfy one of his questions, namely whether
Legolas spent the night in his talan or entered into Glorfindel's house
instead, there to await the warrior's return from patrol.

The advisor
had learned long ago that his rooftop platform afforded not only an
unobstructed view of the heavens but of every spot in the valley not
hidden by trees, Glorfindel's home included. That he had used his
clever visual magnifiers for spying on his lover was also true, and
thus had he learned of the Vanya's infidelity so many centuries past.
He hoped the silvan would light a lamp and give away his location: the
talan or his new lover's home.

As soon as he reached the roof he saw the bright glint of the lantern
aloft in the trees and trained his telescope upon it. The placement of
that talan had been deliberately chosen to make it visible from the
Last Homely House.


Nearly an Age ago, a break in the cover had been created when one of the
oaks was lost during a lightening strike. New growth
had sprung up but never flourished due to the existing trees'
demands upon the soil and light. Thus the treetop playroom of
Elrond's children had never been as private as they had all supposed
and their tutor had always had them under his eye.

What he saw this night made him gasp in shock one second and grin with
lascivious delight the next. The Wood Elf was stretched out naked on
his bed, pleasuring himself.

Illuminated in the soft glow of golden light, Legolas lay upon his
back, one arm curved over his head, face turned slightly away into the
crook of his elbow. The hand of that arm was slowly stimulating his
ear, fingertips languidly running along the rim and up to the point,
upon which he bestowed a slight squeeze before retreating back down to
the lobe. Over and over again in a steady rhythm he applied this
tantalising touch, and that it was enjoyable was beyond doubt, for his
chest heaved in deep, gusty gasps and his head would occasionally arch
back, exposing more of his long white neck in the process. There his
carotid artery would be throbbing, though even Erestor's powerful
spyglass could not reveal so fine a detail.

The magnification was more than sufficient to permit distinctly minute
observation of nearly every other aspect of the archer's physique.
And his exquisitely erotic responses to the indolent
gratification those elegant hands provide. Erestor let the
device traverse down the lean youthful body, pausing to enjoy the
vision of peaked, maroon nipples rising and falling with every heavy
breath. The advisor licked his lips, wondering what those small nodes
of sensitive flesh tasted like and whether Legolas would cry out to
have them licked and nibbled, suckled and tweaked. Erestor swallowed,
finding his own suspiration accelerated and his sexual appetite awaked.
One hand dropped to his crotch and caressed the swelling organ trapped
against his thigh.

He let the telescope continue its exploration, halting at the navel, a
small and inwardly folded oval that served to entice lingering appreciation
of a taut belly and its ridges of straining abdominal
muscles. Oh, to run his hands over the skin there, to learn if the Wood
Elf was ticklish, to feel the fine line of hairs running from the
little dent in the inviting body down into the tight curls of pubic
hair.


Erestor's enhanced vision followed that path, even though he could not detect any
such lineation, and gasped a second time. Legolas was not completely bare, yet only a delicate fuzz
surrounded his genitals. The archer's penis arose red and hard
from between his legs, the tight sac of his scrotum equally smooth and
darkly coloured beneath the organ's root.

Cuthenin's fist was wrapped tight around his solid shaft, working it
with excruciating sloth, squeezing and pumping with steady pressure,
twisting just slightly as he pulled his cock forward from his stomach.
Up and down with mesmerising regularity he applied his practised touch
but at such a rate that orgasm would be gradual and probably quite
euphoric when it came.

Erestor's heart gave a jolt and his cock flexed as Legolas unexpectedly
lifted his hips to thrust forcefully into the tightening grip. Two
clear beads of liquid oozed from the slit in the glans and the silvan's
thumb expertly swiped them up and smeared them all along the slender
sex as he continued his massaging stimulation. The Noldo Lord gaped,
breathing audibly through his dry mouth as his free hand hastened to
untie his leggings and get his erection free. He began to masturbate,
matching his pace to the Wood Elf, and groaned when Cuthenin repeated
that pelvic tilt and shove manoeuvre.

Abruptly, Erestor whisked the optical instrument back to the averted
face, wishing he could see the Wood Elf's expression as his ecstasy
built and he neared release. The silvan still had his countenance
turned away but then, as if responding to the voyeur's thoughts, he
switched hands, moving his head so that he could reach the other ear
and give it the same attention. Erestor exhaled a low moan; Legolas was
completely lost in his fantasy, eyes squeezed shut and brow furrowed,
cheeks flushed and lips parted. His tongue darted out to moisten them
and Erestor was sure he had just whispered something into the night air.

Ah, to feel those lips close around his aching penis, that tongue
lavishing his throbbing cock with tantalisingly dilatory licks, the
acute tingle as the sound of Legolas' appreciative hum of delight
surrounded his ardent erection.

Erestor stopped his actions momentarily to sharpen the focus of the
scope and when next he pointed it at Cuthenin he could see the entire
body more clearly. There was a sheen of sweat on the Wood Elf's
labouring chest and the colours of the tattoo on his breast seemed more
vivid. He enjoyed the sight of the nipples again but impatiently
resumed scrutiny of the genitals.


Legolas was gently rolling his balls
between his fingers and Erestor copied him, crying out incoherently at
the sensation this evoked. He had an unobstructed view of the archer's
stiff erection, slightly curved and slick from the
slit's secretions, and Erestor decided he would not mind at all having a
taste of that.

The silvan's hand went back to work on his cock, moving a bit more
quickly now, and a sweep of the lens of the spyglass up the svelte body
revealed the other fingers relentlessly teasing those tiny points of
ruby flesh adorning the elf's chest.

"Oh Valar," Erestor whispered and once more had to swallow.

The Noldo was burning for release and quickened his ministrations to
make it so. Just when he thought he could bear the tension no longer,
Cuthenin's orgasm came, overtaking the youth with enough force to make
him arch off the mattress in rigid tremors of passionate fulfilment.
Long jets of creamy fluid spurted from his cock and spilled upon his
stomach as he continued to pump.

"Ai!" The sight sent Erestor into his own spiral of ecstasy and he
dropped the telescope to the floor in order to grip the banister of the
platform as the sensation consumed him. He watched his semen stream
forth until gradually the flow subsided, leaning heavily on the rail as
he attempted to catch his breath. After a time he was able to breathe
more normally and became capable of rational thought. Erestor made his
appearance decent and retrieved the spyglass, training it again on the
talan.

Cuthenin lay limp in the aftermath of release, struggling to resume
steady respiration, his entire body flushed a soft rose from the
excitement, hair a wild tangle of golden threads upon the pillow, eyes
half-lidded and mouth agape. Then he stretching languidly upon the
sheets, smiling, and reached for a cloth to wipe off the evidence of
his ejaculation, giving his relaxed penis an endearing little tug as he
did so. That done he turned upon his side, presenting his unknown
admirer a fine view of his rear, and thereafter remained still.

Erestor found himself reluctant to lower the scope and continued gazing
upon the slumbering elf until the gong for the evening meal sounded
dimly from his rooms below. With a sigh he turned from his scrutiny at
last, deciding Glorfindel definitely did not deserve to be the one to
introduce the visiting warrior to the carnal delights of male coupling.

The evening repast was an extravagant affair, nearly on the order of a
grand feast. Though this meal was always formal in Elrond's house, the
numerous guests had elevated the function to a degree of elegance
usually enjoyed only on holidays and official state visits. Everyone
arrived dressed to suit the occasion and with high expectations for the
fare about to be consumed. Everyone save the messenger from King Thranduil.

Legolas did not appear at this gathering for he was still sleeping, having truly not rested more than a hour or two
after his arrival at dawn. Yet he was young and physical recovery was
rapid, thus he did not dream much past midnight. By then, most of the
guests, at least the mortal ones, had begun to retire, leaving the Hall
of Fire to the elves and their many songs and dances.


Galdor was not
within the magnificent abode either, for after dining he had retreated
to the path beside the kitchen gardens, there to await his ward's
arrival.

"Suilad, Legolas," he called as the Wood Elf approached, smiling to see
him rested and more at ease. "You are ready for the Pennas Lunnen, I
see, and at dawn we will break fast together. Now let the Valley of the
Bruinen ring with the glory of your friends' courageous deeds!"

"Sui pedich, Tirn'wador." (As you say, Guardian) Legolas could not
suppress his justified pride to do so, for never had such a ceremony
been performed amid outlanders in any account he had ever heard and he
was honoured to perform this solemn and glorious chant for his friends.
The two walked in silence and the archer gave another glance up into
the heavens, now filled with the brilliance of a multitude of stars,
and smiled.

Ahead the Last Homely House was brightly lit and from the mansion
poured the luminous glow of hearth and lantern, the merry sound of fair
elven voices, and the music of harps and pipes. Long before he
reached the main doors, through which Legolas had never entered before, the
silvan warrior announced to the revellers that a new experience was
upon them. Inhaling deeply, he sang out in a voice as pristine and
clear as the glinting gems of Varda's grace.

"Sí lú an rîn, sui hûnin niniel or rimai sui
sîr, nîr nînath sui ross." (Now is the time for
remembrance, as our sorrowful hearts overflow like rivers, weeping
tears like rain.)

"Linnam an adhôr ind dhîm ah gell uireb." (We sing to
replace sad thoughts with joy everlasting.) Galdor's exquisite baritone
called in answer.

"Linnam o mellyn dangen vi maeth; hyn aun cuil uireb, awarthol bair ar
nothrim an min theled fael." (We sing of friends slain in battle; they
gave life eternal, forsaking homes and families for one just purpose.)
Legolas resumed the chant.

"Linnam o cairdh hyn dely ar berin. Na gyrn hall. Eglerio maethyr
dainnen!" (We sing of their deeds brave and fell. By their valour they
are exalted. Praise the fallen warriors!) Galdor refrained.

"Sí lú an rîn, sui hûnin niniel or rimai sui
sîr, nîr nînath sui ross." (Now is the time for
remembrance, as our sorrowful hearts overflow like rivers, weeping
tears like rain.) The Wood Elf completed the antiphon.  

Every other sound had ceased upon the first notes of the sombre dirge
and yet the air came alive, charged as surely as if a great bolt of
energy was about to be unleashed from menel, filled with the anticipation
of the First-born and the mortals alike within the house. Then the
chant rang out again, dignified and profound, limned with majesty and
grave solemnity, more distinctly now for the singers were closer. A
third time the pentad resounded and this time the notes echoed through
the Hall of Fire, for Legolas and Galdor had entered in.

Then followed the long Lay of Calarlim, for Cuthenin could not help but
emphasise the account of this dear one's life above the others'.
Spellbound the Noldor listened, for the archer's voice was as fair as
his form and combined the allure was irresistable. None dared join the
soloist nor would the musicians so much as pluck a string, and it was
said later the Lord of the Valley and his sons wept for the silvan's
loss. So sweet was the sound of his singing that even those already
abed, even the doughty dwarves and Rangers, awoke with tears upon their
cheeks and a sorrow so keen it pained their hearts to listen to the strains of
the silvan's lament.

As the first rays of Anor breached the high barrier wall of the eastern
cliffs, the final overtones of the last stanzas died away in a
softening echo that was swallowed by the omnipresent roar of the falls.
Yet faintly did the returning troops of the night patrol discern the
song and hastened to reach their destination, curious to know what had
passed during their absence. At the lead sped Glorfindel, urging
Asfaloth for speed, for he was certain he knew the source of this
subdued and mournful hymn. Thus with great splendour the elven warriors
were borne into the grounds of Elrond's house and were met by a quiet
and restrained populace. There was no jesting put forth nor cutting
word spoken of the messenger from any mouth that morn.

Glorfindel strode briskly to his home, hoping to find his guest at the
talan, and was disappointed to find the platform deserted. Hurriedly he
washed and changed his attire, not even considering the reason for his
impatient haste, knowing only a need to see Cuthenin and learn that
everything was right with him. Oft through Ithil's hours his thoughts
had wandered to the archer, distracting the Vanya noble with concerns
over his well-being and conflicted considerations regarding the role of
Faer Hebron. Thus it was with no small degree of dissatisfaction that
Glorfindel was met at his very gate by Galdor and accompanied the elder
Lord back inside the house.

Now Erestor had been in the Hall of Fire and received the full impact
of the Pennas Lunnen. This did naught but increase his desire to
prevent the youth from becoming Glorfindel's lover, for in his mind it
was unjust for his former paramour to acquire such a prize after the
shameful way he had been treated. How could the Valar
allow Glorfindel to not only go unpunished for his wrongs but actually
reward his infidelity by granting him the first taste of this virgin
warrior?

Even more, he could discern the silvan was capable of great depth of
love and that such a gift might be tendered to Glorfindel was galling.
He would not permit such to come to pass. Glorfindel spurned the advisor's love, why should he become the recipient of the Wood Elf's
heart?


He denies me, now let him know the sting of like
rejection. Legolas shall not bind his soul to Glorfindel.


Erestor watched and waited as Legolas and Galdor took the morning meal
together then parted. The messenger headed out doors and the advisor
followed
after a discreet interval. Yet no sooner had Erestor stepped outside than he lost
track of the Wood Elf. Perplexed, he wandered into the gardens,
reasoning the silvan might like to tour the grounds, and followed the
small brook as it wended its way amid the beds and the foliage.


After
some time of this aimless walking, Erestor halted beside the stream
within a small stand of beeches and pondered where he should search
next. Would his elusive prey return to the talan or perhaps seek out
the Hobbits? Was he more likely to take to the training grounds, ask
after Mithrandir's counsel, or engage the company of the twins?

"Valar! Where can he be? An elf is not capable of vanishing into the
air, not even a silvan," he complained aloud, no closer to a decision
than at the beginning of his rambling walk.

"For what reason do you seek a silvan elf?" a voice wafted through the
branches and drew the Noldo's gaze upward and to the right. There
gazing down upon him, not more than two metres above, perched in
apparent comfort and ease upon a sturdy limb was Legolas.

"Ah! A start you gave me, Legolas!" Erestor said and added a light
laugh. "I was searching for you, that is true."

"What is it that you would ask of me?"

"Nay, I have not come here to pose questions, Legolas, but to tender a
humble apology, if you will accept it." Erestor bowed as he spoke,
hoping his words would carry enough sincerity to coax the visitor from
the heights. To his invidious glee, the archer leaped down at once
and approached him with arm extended.

"I am glad to do so," spoke Legolas as he gripped the
advisor's forearm in the traditional warrior's grasp, wary but willing to listen.

"That is better, then, and a weight is lifted from my heart for your
generosity. It was wrong of me to ascribe to you hurts inflicted by
another. Seeing you and Glorfindel together raised many unhappy
memories."

"I am sorry for your grief." It was more difficult to speak the polite response than Cuthenin would have liked.

"Le hantëan. (I thank you.) I feel duty bound to warn you,
Legolas, for you are new to these lands and have barely met the folk of
Imladris. Not all is at it seems upon first glance."

"Of what do you speak?"

"Why, of the intrepid Balrog-Slayer, naturally. He wears an honourable
bearing and it is clothed in a most attractive and agreeable form, as I
am sure you would agree." Erestor smiled bitterly at the faint blush
that stole over the silvan's ears at this remark, but he carried on,
determined to spoil Glorfindel's plans. "Yet the heart within is
inconstant."

"Nay, I cannot believe this. Why would you make such a charge?" Legolas
did not even realise how hotly he contested the advisor's words.

"I am but reporting to you my own history," the advisor smoothly placated the riled Wood Elf. "If you would hear of it. My
conscience will not allow me to stand by and observe the same fate
befall another, making no attempt to avert the catastrophe of a broken
spirit."

"You presume much and take your own gossip for fact." Legolas moved away, unwilling to confirm the Noldo's insinuation.

"Perhaps, yet you cannot deny it was his name you cried
out in the night. Not everyone stays indoors through the twilit dusk
and the oak grove is not so far from the path as to be out of hearing
range."

Legolas eyes and mouth gaped wide in disbelief and embarrassment. He
had not considered that someone might overhear his exclamations of
passionate longing and flushed in humiliation, imagining the scene. He
could not find words to counter this and turned to leave, dreading that
the anecdote would be spread amid the population. A hand upon his arm
halted his retreat.

"Nay, do not go," Erestor hid his sordid triumph to have guessed
correctly, making his tone pleading and apologetic instead. "Your
secret is safe in my keeping. I am here but to offer you the truth
before you commit yourself fully. Sit beside me upon the grass and I
will speak to you of Gondolin and my life there espoused to Glorfindel."

Legolas searched the advisor's eyes diligently, sure there must be malice inherent in the invitation. His instinct warned not to trust the advisor. Yet he could not deny his morbid curiosity to know what had befallen the couple to part them and reduce the noble Lord to such spiteful vengeance. In a corner of his awareness, he believed that a kernel of truth must be within the Noldo's claim, for such deep anger oft substituted for unbearable anguish. Thus, Cuthenin did stay and remained with
Erestor through the morning, absorbing the dolorous tale the
statesman could not hold back.

Indeed, so long were they sequestered amid the peaceful grove of trees
that Galdor and Lindir ventured from the house to seek their respective
friends, for the council was beginning and the two elves had not
arrived. It was not without reason that their late entry together gave
Glorfindel a deep sense of foreboding. He could say nothing, however,
for the emissary from the Woodland Realm was seated by his Guardian,
with Elrond and Erestor next, blocking the re-born warrior from conversing with him.

The council proceeded; its affect upon everyone was profound and
Legolas' prediction was borne forth. From no less than the lips of
Aragorn, Elrond's own foster son, came his peoples' condemnation.

'How came the folk of Thranduil to fail in their
trust?' 1.

The memory of the sentence stung as sharply as the initial hearing of
it had done. Legolas had defended his realm as best he could but knew
it was not sufficient to account for such a disaster. Even Gandalf's
attempt to minimise the error could not remove it from anyone's
thoughts, least of all his.


At the council's conclusion Cuthenin was
among the first to vacate the Last Homely House, eager
to remove himself from chastising eyes and disapproving frowns that
simultaneously failed to show surprise, as though such neglect of duty
was no more than one should expect of Wood Elves.

Legolas walked determinedly from the stately grounds, making for the
talan and his weapons. He was angry, mortified, disgusted, and
ashamed, all at once. He could hear Glorfindel following, calling for
him to wait yet he did not, desiring no discourse with the
Balrog-Slayer as yet. What he needed was a means to work off some of
the negative energy the morning's events had promoted, and a deep
meditation upon the majesty of Tawar would not be sufficient.

I crave combat. I would go hunting Yrch, were I at home. First Erestor reveals
his espousal to Glorfindel and then I must reveal the failure of the
Greenwood. This atop the deaths upon my hands! All because I could not
detain a simple gangrel creature in custody.

He headed for the training grounds, brusquely pushing past the Vanya as
he left the walled garden and ignoring the hail from Galdor as
well.  They continued to follow and he listened as they bickered
over him along the way.

"Wait here; I will tend to him," commanded the Lord of the Tree.

"I must speak with him, Galdor," insisted Glorfindel. "It was unwise to
have his news told in such a forum before the rites of the dead could
be accomplished. Let me tell him of your decision."

"Nay, there is more amiss than this council's outcome. I am his
Tirn'wador and will ease his agitated mood."

"Aye, it is no wonder he is rattled; you saw him with Erestor."

"Indeed, the advisor may have been filling in some of the background
ahead of you. Let me explain it fully. Go and see to
the organisation of the scouting parties for no doubt your Lord has
need of your wisdom."

"I will do so once I have satisfied my mind that Cuthenin bears me no
ill will," countered Glorfindel stubbornly.

At this Legolas stopped upon the path and turned back, striding to them
swiftly where they had halted in surprise and some trepidation, so
gloomy and fierce was his expression. But his eyes cleared when he
looked upon Glorfindel's, for he found nothing of duplicity therein,
only concern and regret.

"Ai, Glorfindel, then go with a lighter heart. I hold nothing against
you. Indeed, I am not the one you should hasten to set at ease. It is
Erestor with whom you must square things."

"Cuthenin, do not heed his venomous words, I beg you!" implored
Glorfindel. "You know he is capable of falsehoods. He imagines far more
than ever there was betwixt us. It all happened in my last life; am I
never to be forgiven?"

"Nay, it is not of Gondolin I speak. Erestor's ill-feeling is centred
here in Imladris. He swears by the One that he saw you with another,
intimately engaged."

"I was never espoused to Erestor here. I have not promised myself to
anyone since my return to Middle-earth. He imagines wrongs that were
never committed and claims harm by me that his own heart invented."

"Then you deny it?"

Nay, there was another, that is true, yet I made no…"

"It matters not!" Legolas spoke in impassioned frustration to hear such
justification. "Erestor believes himself still espoused to you. He did not die nor feel the bond between
you to be broken."

"Peace, Legolas, allow Glorfindel to account for his actions," chided
Galdor.

"It is an unfair charge. When I perished, everything perished. I was
reborn with a new heart that did not know him. I was remade with no
binding ties to anyone." Glorfindel said, furious with Erestor for
creating this rift before he barely even had the chance to befriend
Cuthenin.

In silence Legolas considered this, for it was not a thing that he
would have imagined. If Erestor was aware of it then he was truly in
the wrong to demand what was no longer his to claim. He could not
justly accuse Glorfindel of betrayal if their union had never resumed
its former course.

"Did Erestor understand this?" he asked quietly and waited for a reply.
Nothing did Glorfindel utter, merely standing with a dumbfounded
expression covering his fair countenance. Legolas was aghast. "You
never told him?"

"I…he refused to…"

"Love died in your heart even as your body was broken, yet you did not
reveal this. Why? Can you wonder at his wrath to see you with someone
else, to be rejected by the one he waited for as more than an Age
passed? That is how he learned that he meant nothing to you any
longer."

The intensity of this speech was enough to steal the words from
Glorfindel's lips, for he perceived that somehow he had hurt Cuthenin
without ever intending such a thing. There was a desperation within the
tones, as though the silvan warrior had just lost one of the few
remaining tethers keeping him bound to Arda, and that frightened the
Balrog-Slayer. He shifted stricken eyes to Galdor, imploring
intervention, as Legolas turned away with an exclamation of disgust.

"Legolas, there is more to this than Erestor has told. I ask that you
refrain from judgement until Glorfindel's part is explained," cautioned
Galdor, reaching out to grasp Legolas' arm and thus stall the warrior's
escape. "I have spent the morn with Glorfindel, as I promised, and am
satisfied. Long have I known him and I will vouch
for his genuine intentions. His heart is not so cold as you think it.
Come, recall your initial evaluation of his character and trust to the
conclusion attained then. If you cannot, at least heed my counsel."

For a moment it seemed as though Legolas would defy his new Guardian,
so vexed was his expression, yet finally he drew a deep breath and
bowed his head.

"Sui pedich, Tirn'wador," (As you say, Guardian) he stated stiffly and
gave a brief nod as his eyes met the re-born warrior's as well. "I will
abide by the advice of my Guardian. Yet say no more to me of these
matters until you have done so with Erestor."

With that he resumed his course and Galdor accompanied him, leaving
Glorfindel alone on the path.

TBC

1. Direct quote from the Fellowship of the Ring.


Reviews: Trying to redo replies lost to the aff 'glitch':

from Chapter 7 at ff.net:

Steph: I feel honoured that you watch for the updates so diligently. Thank you! I am also pleased you approve the way I have described the twins. I want them to be perceived as noble and strong, unbiased and genuine, but not distant or aloof. These are warriors often away from Imladris among the mortals, and as such they must be down to earth. Your compliments are so encouraging and I am grateful for them. I will strive to live up to them.


wren: Thank you for reviewing and letting me know. So glad my story fits your criteria and I hope you stay with it to the end.


angelsfyre1: Thank you very much for you wonderful review and encouraging words. Your thoughts about the religious beliefs are exactly what I have in mind, too, and I hope I can make it believable. I will not go further than the death ceremony, I don't think, for that is what started me on the whole story and is its end. Of course the developing relationship must either be killed or encouraged, too! Thank you again.


Philomythus: Ah, I made someone drool! Thank you for your review and such a strong affirmation of the story. I am pleased I caught your attention out of the thousands of LotR fictions here; that is a great compliment. I do indeed love these chracters, as everyone reading and writing here does, and I am so happy that shows through. Hope to keep you reading!


T-chan: Thank you for such an insightful review and for all those kind words and for the hints regarding clarity. It is hard for me to know how the story is perceived from the readers' perspective except through the reviews submitted. You are right, I have been deliberately vague and perhaps I carried that a little too far. I will try to make things clearer in future chapters and get to the point. Beyond that, your compliments regarding how the characters are written is very gratifying and I thank you once more!


Kiril: WOW! Your review took my breath away. Goffman! Wow again! He practically defined human thought and motivation for actions, so this is an incredibly high praise for me. I do try to make what the characters say and do believable and justifiable, even if their rationale is skewed. Such it is for most, I have found. We believe our individual perception of events is the correct one and it is difficult sometimes to get past that. Actually, I have been pleased that most readers are very open-minded regarding the way I am writing the characters. It is easy to get caught up in preferring a specific personality for a character, and any deviation from it raises flags. The greatest concerns thus far have been over Erestor and Ithil'wath, yet most of those who disagree with the characterisations have not abandoned the story, and that is a great compliment, too. My deepest thanks for your strong support and your exceptional praises!


From Chapter 8; ff.net:
SilentOne: That is one of the nicest things a reader can say to a writer: that you have come to care about these characters. Thank you very much and I hope to keep your interest right to the end. Sorry the wait for this update has been so long, I will try to do better.


Steph: Your reviews are such morale boosters for me I cannot thank you enough! I have put a lot of thought into it and am happy you appreciate that. To me it is not worth the effort of writing if I have not first put in the effort to plan what is going to happen and why. Now this story is not going to be a long one, I am afraid, for there are really only two issues yet to be dealt with: will Legolas fade or will the death ritual save him and will he accept Glorfindel or deny his desire and stick to his strict upbringing. However, I can promise at least a few more 'squeeable' chapters before these things are resolved!


cindy: Why thank you very much! I am always so happy to learn I have captured someone's interest when there are thousands of stories here to choose from!


Gemini969: You always let me know you are reading and encouraging me to continue. Thank you for that dedication, I appreciate it beyond words, mellon nin.


From Chapter 9 ff.net:
pris: Thank you so much for that! I worried folks would be put off by Legolas' previous emotional breakdown and now this lack of knowledge, but you know if he has any feelings at all he would need to let go at some point, and that is Galdor's main purpose. He will try to help Legolas find away to have both his peoples' acceptance and the real love and commitment of a life-mate. Not an easy task! I am also pleased that it comes across that Glorfindel is falling for him almost against his will, rather than just lusting for him.


Gemini969: I am sorry for such a long wait for the update! Here we go, things start heating up a bit now. Thank you for your faithful encouragement!


SilentOne: I thank you for such kind words and am glad you were not put off by my putting that poem there; it seemed to fit. I apologise that the wait has been so long, RL has been hectic. We do not hear of Galdor's interrogation here, however, but it will be addressed in greater detail soon. Thank you so much for reviewing!


From Aff.net; reviews since 11/27/05. First, let me apologise to those who reviewed after 12/04. I read those reviews and did not get the chance to reply before they were wiped out. I want you to know I appreciate so much your compliments and wish I could reply in more detail. To Daphne, an extra than you for letting me know the glitch had deleted two chapter.


Aislynn: Your review is wonderful and I thank you very much for it. I could not resist putting in those early encounters between the future fellowship members! The ideas about messengers' names originally comes from erobey's Legolas and the Balrog story but I like the notion of these nicknames between comrades. Plus, it is also not unusual in many cultures for people to have public names for anyone to use and more private ones that only friends and loved ones are permitted to speak, so it fits with the cultural background I am trying to create. Sorry for the long delay in getting this posted, I will try to do better!


TopazKat: I hope you got the chance to catch up on the other chapters now that they have returned after the glitch! Thank you for reviewing and letting me know you are enjoying my work. I really appreciate you pointing out that Legolas was not well developed in the books, since the focus was on the quest itself and the elves had a smaller part in it than the Hobbits, naturally. It is easy to forget this considering how many fanfictions there are that show Legolas one way or another, and so I am glad my depiction meets your expectations. Your praise regarding detail is dear to my heart, for that is what I try to do, describe what I see in my mind for others to visualise. Oh, and those fighting scenes are so difficult! Thank you for the compliment. I plan to detail the death ritual but beyond that I will not expound on Pâd-en-Tawar further in this story. The notion of Tawar as an entity was picked up from Feud and I have expanded it some here, using it as a way to express how different the Wood Elves have become from the other elves over time.


Daphne: A triple thank you for your review, given twice, and for the email to alert me to the glitch. I know of and enjoy Estelielle's work and am happy you found your way here from her homepage. You are right, this fandom is very active and has lots of great writers, thus your kind words are very much appreciated. I confess I have never seen Queer as Folk. Strange as it may seem I do not have TV, just internet. Nonetheless, it is high praise to get such a fine recommendation from another writer. Thank you again!


yanic: I feared I had lost you! Thanks for checking back in and for those compliments. As you predicted, things are heating up.


Teri: Oh I am glad you caught up on the chapters AFTER the glitch! your comments regarding Galdor and his part in this is terrific and to the point. I have set Legolas up for a fall and if someone is not there to catch him, no fellowship. we cannot have that! And, this chapter begins to unfold the past a little, but i decided the real details need to come from two very different sources: Galdor's external, more dispassionate evaluation and Erestor's condemnation of Glorfindel. As this chapter indicates, those two will go head to head and resolve this one way or another, for Legolas has given Glorfindel an ultimatum. Now as for tattoos, I have the spray of Morning Glories described on Legolas' lower back and it did take a whole day to do. We took a break for lunch and of course for the restroom, but otherwise just kept at it. I got it during a tattoo convention and had only the one day there, so it had to be finished. Went so this particular artist could sketch and then etch the design upon me, and I could not be more pleased. (which is good since it cost the Moon!) But I admit, it was painful and I was sore!


Spirit_Melody: I thank you for reviewing and for the compliments, and am sorry the glitch erased them before I could respond in greater detail. Know that your continued support is mush appreciated, mellon nin.


And there was at least one other reviewer and I am mortified that I cannot remember the generous person who submitted it. Please forgive me, my mind is a sieve sometimes. I would not want to leave anyone's kind remarks unrecognised. Thank you so much for taking the time and trouble to review!