Blood Thorns

Disclaimer: I own the spy, the scaly fish and a lot of homework due before finals week!! But JRR owns the good stuff!!

A/N:
“This is regular speech”
**This in mind speech**
‘’This is visions’’
“”This is thoughts “”
This is Kestrel’s written speech.

A/N 2: I am planning to do three chapters of each story at a time, so two more Blood Thorn chapters are on the way. Then I will do Hellfire then Moonfire before coming back to Blood Thorns for another three chapters. I hope you will bear with me throughout this new updating way and I am so sorry it has taken me so long to update lately, but have had college finals.

To my Lovely Readers and Reviewers: THANK YOU!!

Lost Souls

It had been a week since Elrond had visited the prisoner in the gray room. He had found no physical symptoms for her loss of memory, so he had formed the opinion that it was the result of stress and fear. Judging from the description of her condition upon arrival, Elrond thought it more then likely that she had seen or been part of something so horrific that her mind could not cope with the aftermath and had simply shut down her memories until such time that she could handle what ever she had been through. Erestor and Glorfindel had made daily reports on her condition and behavior; other then a few stubborn temper fits, the female was cooperating with them.

Kestrel had begun her testing with Erestor two days after Elrond’s visit and the advisor was well pleased with the progress he was making in determining the prisoner’s education level. The chief advisor had found that she could not only read and write Sindarin and Quenya but Westron as well. She was an avid student and seemed to enjoy all the forms of enlightenment she could weasel out of Erestor. Parchments littered the gray room from the many notes that Kestrel had made over the course of her studies. Some things seemed to bring a hint of excited recognition to her honey brown eyes, while others left her eyes strangely blank. Everyday her memories were surfacing and Erestor had no doubt she would fully recover them in time.

Erestor jumped slightly when the sound of a heavy book landing on the floor broke the thick silence of the gray room. The advisor had been deeply embroiled in fleshing out a treaty renewal that was due the next day, so the disturbance was more unwelcome then usual. Turning to look over his shoulder, Erestor found the highly amusing sight of Kestrel staring at her book as if a warg was going to spring forth and devour her whole. Wide eyes darted to the advisor before she pointed to the book and motioned him over to her with her hands. He found it rather funny that she did not wish to touch the book that now lay on the floor, yet was frantic for him to see what had upset her.

Glancing down at the page, Erestor saw the reason for Kestrel’s weird behavior; the history of the fall of Gondolin and a picture depicting Glorfindel’s battle with the Balrog. Lifting his eyes from the picture with a smile, the dark haired elf smiled as he acknowledged sadly, “Aye, youngling, that is our Glorfindel. I forgot that with your memories missing you would not recognize the name or the story behind our dear seneschal’s fight with the Balrog.” The elleth scrambled over the side of the bed and scurried to the blank parchments and ink with a haunted look on her face. Grabbing up the items she needed, Kestrel began writing like a whirlwind.

Scribble… Scribble… Scribble…

With a shaking hand, the prisoner handed her message to Erestor with frightened, sorrowful eyes. Clasping her hands tightly together, Kestrel awaited his reaction with trepidation. The inelegant snort and bark of laughter that followed was definitely not what she had expected. It took a few moments for the advisor to bring himself under control before he could answer her frantic questions. Settling himself on the edge of her bed, Erestor tried to keep his mirth leashed as he explained. “I sincerely apologize for my rude outburst youngling, but such a thought had not ventured into my mind. Nay, we are most definitely not in Mandos’ Hall of Waiting and Nay, you are not dead. Glorfindel did die when he fought a Balrog in defense of his city. He helped the elleth and elflings to escape the falling city at the price of his own life. The Valar chose him to return to Arda to keep safe Lord Elrond and his family. He is now seneschal of Imladris and it is his job to see to the security of our fair vale. You will have to ask Glorfindel yourself if you wish to know more of his life.”

Nodding in understanding, Kestrel picked up the book she had dropped and resumed reading of the fall of Gondolin and Glorfindel’s subsequent demise at the hands of a Balrog. She shivered as the sad tale unfolded and could not help but wonder what consequences dying then being reborn would do to the mind of an elf. She felt her heart go out to the golden haired elf that had lost all he held dear, only to return to a time not his own. She knew it must have been hard to adjust to all the new things that had come to pass. She wondered if he still had memories of his old life and if those memories helped or hurt his soul. Not having much memory of her own life, lent Kestrel a unique perspective on the conflicting emotions, that she was sure would be involved, in coming to terms with two life times of thoughts and feelings. She vowed to herself to seek out answers to some of her questions when the warrior returned from where ever he had been sent.

Glorfindel rode cautiously through the tree line, scanning all around him for any unusual sights, sounds or smells. The patrol had cleared out three smaller bands of Orcs, but the threat of more loomed ahead. The scouts had reported a larger group of the vile beasts lurking in the higher mountain pass. Once this group of 100 Orcs was destroyed, the patrol would once more make for the safety of the Last Homely House and the warriors would get some much needed rest. The seneschal let his mind drift slightly, even as his senses roved the area. He wondered how Erestor was getting along with their prisoner and if any more of her memories had returned.

A slight smile flitted across his lips as he thought back to the last time he had seen the stubborn elleth. She had been overly rude and obnoxious to Glorfindel, but respectful and kind to Erestor; at least at first.

Flashback

Kestrel listened closely as Erestor outlined his test. Her brow furrowed after a few moments in deep thought, before she shook her head angrily. Arms crossed her chest and a mutinous look settled on her delicate features as she glared with dark venom at the advisor. Erestor had wished for the elleth to allow Glorfindel to draw the strange marking that covered her skin, as the seneschal was the better artist, but the female was annoyed to no end that they were still harping on her body drawings instead of the intellectual tests she had thought they were going to pursue. Erestor moved closer to Kestrel with single minded determination, after handing Glorfindel his charcoal and parchment. The narrowed eyes throwing out brown flames and the lips curled back in a snarl of disgust should have alerted Erestor about the folly of his action.

Erestor reached out to loosen the ties to her tunic, but was met by a snapping of teeth very close to his fingers. Pulling back with a frown, the advisor watched as the female stormed to where Glorfindel stood. Ripping the parchment out of his hand, the elleth tossed it in to the flames with a satisfied smirk tilting her chin defiantly at the dark haired ellon. Kestrel huffed at him before turning towards the door and pointing for them to leave. This did not sit well with the now glaring Erestor, but Glorfindel ushered the advisor out the door while speaking over his shoulder that they would return when she was in a more cooperative mood. The golden haired elf could not contain his mirth after leaving the gray room and told Erestor his idea to get the sketches done with less fuss.

Two hours later they had walked into the room with parchment and quills. The elleth was fast asleep by the hearth; thanks to a sleeping draught in her drink. It was almost an hour later that Glorfindel put the finishing touches on the sketches and the two ellon gently redressed the prisoner and laid her in her bed to sleep off the effects of the draught. The seneschal had hated to resort to such measures, but Erestor had stressed the urgent need to unravel the mystery of her body markings as soon as possible. Handing the sketches to the advisor, Glorfindel retired to his own room to ready himself for his patrol watch. Orc activity had increased and he wanted to personally oversee the eradication of the foul spawn from his beloved valley; plus he figured it would give the elleth time to calm down should she find out about the unorthodox method he resorted to in obtaining the sketches.

A series of bird calls alerted the patrol that the scouts had found the Orcs and effectively pulled Glorfindel from his musing. Moving with quiet haste, the patrol slid farther into the forest, taking to the trees as they made for the area where the scouts waited. The seneschal smiled in grim amusement as he spied the large, but unorganized, group of Orcs. These fell creatures stood no chance, with the seasoned warriors that formed his patrol, Glorfindel thought with pride. With a sharp nod from his head, a rain of arrows shot forth from the trees, followed swiftly by the whirring and slashing of blades as the elves descended on their enemy with fearsome grace. The fight lasted, but moments.