Realization

Title: Realization
Fandom: LoTR
Author: Lynsey
Websites and Mailing List: See links under user information
Beta: None
Chapter: 13/?
Word Count: 2879
Pairings: OC (Corchvorn)/Erestor
Rating: PG-13 this chapter
Warnings: None really
Disclaimer: I do not own LoTR or its characters. I do not make any money from this fiction.
Summary: Sequel to “Tolerance.” Glorfindel comes to a realization.


It was morning, Glorfindel knew. He should be getting up, packing his things, and readying the horses. But it was cold, and the boy curled against him was warm and soft. Corchvorn’s mellow breaths fanned over Glorfindel’s neck in humid little puffs. Dim light from the banked fire made the boy’s dark hair glow a rich, chocolate brown in the dark. Occasionally, the boy would hum or twitch in his sleep, or he would burrow closer to the heat of the larger elf.

Glorfindel wasn’t going to think about how good it felt.

With one last, lingering moment to savor the smaller body, Glorfindel gently shook Corchvorn’s shoulder. “Time to get up, little one.”

“Hmm?” the boy whined and blinked open his sleepy eyes. “Is it morning already?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t see any sun,” Corchvorn protested and lethargically settled deeper into Glorfindel’s hold.

The blond smiled slightly at the sweetly grumpy face. “There are no windows in this cabin, little one, but none-the-less morning is here, and we need to prepare to leave.”

“But…so warm,” the boy breathed. Full, slightly parted lips pressed into the curve of Glorfindel’s neck. The blond shuddered faintly, and Corchvorn whispered, “Are you cold?”

“No,” Glorfindel swallowed. “I’m not cold, young one. Come, let’s get up.”

The warrior rolled Corchvorn away from him and stood up before the little clinging limpet could attach to his side again. The boy sleepily rubbed his eyes as he sat up and swung his legs to the side of the bed.

“How is your leg feeling this morning?” Glorfindel asked as he started pulling on more layers of clothing to stave off the cold.

The boy slowly flexed the leg, a contemplating look on his face. “It’s really stiff, and kind of hot feeling.”

Glorfindel motioned the boy to lay back down and Corchvorn immediately complied. The leg was unwrapped and closely examined.

“You’re showing signs of an infection,” Glorfindel murmured as he touched the sides of the wound. “It’s not bad, yet. Let me clean it up a bit more before we head out for the day.” The water kettle was efficiently hung in the fireplace and Glorfindel stoked the flames. The remainder of the soup was also reheated. Warm water was used to thoroughly clean the wound, and the blond warrior added a thicker layer of the cream ointment from the night before. Clean bandages rewrapped the leg. After finishing the last of the soup, Glorfindel helped Corchvorn into his clothing.

Horses were cared for and tacked in short order. Glorfindel helped Corchvorn onto Asfaloth’s back after getting the beautiful steed to the ground again. The horse heaved to its feet smoothly and Glorfindel mounted behind after tying Corchvorn’s horse to the saddle.

“Ready?” he asked the boy in front of him.

Corchvorn nodded and shifted a little as his leg throbbed at him. “The sooner we get home the better. I don’t know how much longer my leg can take this,” he admitted quietly.

Glorfindel nodded and encouraged his horse forward into the cold, early morning air.

**********************

“Erestor?” Elrond called as he entered the room. He’d put Erestor up in the guest room of his personal suite. With the darkling’s husband gone on delivery, Elrond hadn’t wanted Erestor to be alone…not in his current condition, anyway. Here, he could keep an eye on the lad and make sure he didn’t do anything drastic.

The darkling was standing at the window, staring blankly out over the courtyard his room overlooked.

“Yes, my Lord?” he responded quietly.

Elrond sighed. It had been like fighting a battle these several days. Erestor was horribly withdrawn, and pulling any information from the boy had been damned near impossible. It was frustrating, to say the least. How was Elrond supposed to help the boy if he couldn’t even talk to him?

“I brought you some tea,” Elrond said as he sat the tray he was carrying down on the table near the window. “Would you like some?”

“Thank you, sire,” Erestor nodded graciously.

Elrond poured the tea and handed a steaming cup to the boy. Erestor thanked him distractedly then turned back to the window.

The Lord shook his head. They would get no-where at this rate.

“Erestor,” the Lord said sternly. “Don’t cold-shoulder me. You know I came here to talk.”

Erestor’s eyes were far away, hardly deeming to acknowledge the other elf. “I’m fine, my Lord.”

“Erestor,” Elrond snapped. “Here and now, child.”

The darkling blinked a little and looked over at Elrond. The elder elf almost shivered at the lifeless look in those eyes, but there was a spark…the slightest, smallest flash of life yet hiding in dark orbs. “Yes, Lord Elrond?”

“Tell me truly how you are feeling right now.”

Erestor’s head tilted slightly and looked with unfocused eyes at the other elf. “I’m hiding,” he replied in hushed tones.

“Hiding from what?”

“The pain,” the darkling whispered. “If I hide I can’t feel it.”

Elrond frowned. The boy was hiding within himself. It seemed there was no happy medium with Erestor. Either he felt the pain so badly he ripped himself apart to relieve the agony, or he fell into himself so deeply to escape it he became an empty shell.

He didn’t know which was worse.

Yet somehow, Elrond had the feeling that the longer Erestor hid from himself, the harder it would be to bring him back.

This was going to be heartbreaking.

Elrond came forward and took the cup from Erestor’s limp hands. He sat it down on the tray and took the small, ink-stained hands in his. “Erestor, I need you to wake up. I need you here.”

A dark head shook back and forth. “I can’t. I don’t want to feel it anymore. If I can’t let it out…”

“Erestor, look at me,” Elrond plead forcefully.

“No. No, please,” Erestor started pulling away, trying to tug his hands away from Elrond.

“Look at me,” the Lord compelled.

Erestor’s pretty, dark eyes blinked rapidly, then filled with agony and heartbreak so deep Elrond thought he would drown in it. The boy collapsed to the floor in a heap of limp limbs shaking in silent anguish. The healer fell with him, enfolding the smaller body in his own.

“I’m so sorry, Erestor, but I can’t let you fade away. Not while I still see life in your eyes.”

The scream that echoed through the room took the lord by surprise. The tormented sound rang through his ears and would forever stain his soul.

*************************

It was nearly dark by the time Glorfindel and Corchvorn arrived at the House. The cold was biting and getting worse by the minute. The horses perked up the nearer they got, eager to be home, fed, and warm. Glorfindel let his mare take them right to the stables and inside. The stable hands were standing at the ready even this time of night in case they were needed. The two boys helped a very tired and hurting Corchvorn from the horse as Glorfindel lowered him down. By the time their packs were untied a messenger from the main house had been notified and was there to retrieve their items.

Corchvorn sagged in Glorfindel’s hold, hardly able to keep his feet.

“Let’s get you to Elrond, child,” Glorfindel said. He swung to boy into his arms to much protesting.

“I can walk,” Corchvorn objected. “And I’m heavy. I don’t want to hurt your back…”

“I can get you to the healing wing,” Glorfindel reassured. “Just relax and hold on.”

The blond walked quickly with his armload into the House and through the maze-like halls to the healing ward. The young apprentice on duty looked rather sleepy as he sat at the desk. An open text, probably a vain attempt at keeping himself awake, sat open on the desktop in front of him. The youth immediately jolted into action when he saw someone being carried into the ward. Carrying usually meant injury, which meant his night was about to become much more interesting.

The apprentice showed Glorfindel to one of the neatly lined cots in the large space instead of one of the private rooms.

“What’s wrong, my lord?” the apprentice asked as he went about lighting multiple lanterns and candles to brightly illuminate the area.

“My friend here has a leg wound that needs seeing to,” Glorfindel nodded at Corchvorn, who blushed at the word ‘friend.’

“Well, let’s see it then,” the young healer said briskly. “We’ll see if I can handle it. If not, I’ll fetch one of the senior healers.”

Glorfindel nodded, and helped a brightly blushing Corchvorn out of his pants. The apprentice unwrapped the leg and examined the wound closely. “I can do most of the work, but I’m afraid I’ll need to consult someone about the best way to stall the infection. Here,” the youth went to a table filled with bottles and jars and poured a small cup with something clear. “Drink this,” the young healer coached. “By the time it kicks in I’ll be ready to go to work.”

“What…is it?” Corchvorn asked, making a face at the terrible smell.

The apprentice smiled wryly. “It’s a numbing agent. It smells horrible and tastes even worse, I’m sorry to say.”

Face screwed up in a mask of determination and distaste, Corchvorn took the potion in one quick gulp. “Argh, that’s disgusting!”

Glorfindel laughed. “Healers don’t know how to make anything that tastes good.”

“True that,” the apprentice nodded. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Corchvorn sighed after the youth left. “Do you think…I mean…Erestor would have expected me back long before now and…he might be worried…I just…”

“As soon as I have talked to the senior healer on duty tonight I’ll make sure to inform Erestor of what happened and where you are.”

It wasn’t much later that a worried looking Elrond entered the healing ward, apprentice tagging along behind.

Glorfindel smiled slightly and stood to greet his old friend. “Elrond,” he nodded in greeting. “See you pulled the short straw again.”

The lord nodded with a small smile. “My turn on the night shift is always interesting, at least. What brings you here? My apprentice said something about a leg wound…”

Glorfindel turned and gestured to Corchvorn, who was staring intently at the blanket modestly covering his lap. “The boy was injured in an avalanche, and we came across each other not long after. The wound frosted in the cold. I did what I could to remove the frost, and the boy had a rather bad fever for a couple of days. He’s also been fighting an infection in the wound. I stitched it up, but you of all people know what my stitching is like.”

Elrond nodded. The lord’s face was troubled, and not just because of Corchvorn’s injury.

He had no idea what the consequences of these two elves’ meeting would be. It was well known to everyone in the Valley just how furious Glorfindel was with Corchvorn, and truly he had all rights to be. Corchvorn had taken Erestor from the Seneschal in a very scandalous manner, regardless of whether the boy had done so intentionally. Elrond was worried…well, terribly worried that Glorfindel wouldn’t have pulled any punches with the boy. He may have done what was necessary to keep the boy alive, it would have been Kinslaying to do otherwise, but that didn’t mean the warrior needed to be cordial to the young messenger. In fact, Glorfindel could have been completely malicious toward Corchvorn and been wholly within his rights. The Seneschal was usually utterly respectable even to those he despised. But this was a matter of love, of the heart, and that could make any elf foolish.

Elrond could only hope that Glorfindel had done what he could to be polite to the boy. Corchvorn was in a delicate mental state as it was.

And Erestor needed all of Corchvorn’s support he could get.

The healer sat down on the side of Corchvorn’s bed and pulled the blanket off of his legs to begin working on the wound. “Hmm,” Elrond pondered as he turned the leg this way and that. “I’ll mix up a potion for you to take for infection while my apprentice cleans this up.”

Elrond stood and traded places with his apprentice. The young healer pulled a small folding tray closer and sifted through the contents. “Tell me if you feel anything,” the apprentice said and poked at the wound.

Corchvorn shook his head, then blinked as the world started spinning around him. “Whooo…” he exhaled, falling back on the bed.

The young healer smiled knowingly. “It does kind of have that effect sometimes. You can sleep if you are so inclined. Either way, you’ll end up feeling like you have the hangover from Mordor.”

“Great,” Corchvorn muttered and shut his eyes against the twirling room.

As the healer went to work on Corchvorn’s leg, Elrond gave Glorfindel a meaningful look and nodded at the entrance to an adjacent room. Glorfindel returned the nod and followed the other man out of the main ward. Elrond closed the door behind them and walked purposefully toward a wall made up of tiny, carefully labeled drawers.

Hand knowingly and lovingly tracing down a column of drawers, Elrond hummed to himself and wondered how to start this conversation.

Glorfindel started it for him.

“In case you were wondering, I’ve been completely civil to the boy the entire time.”

“I expected no less from someone as honorable as you,” Elrond replied.

“Yes, you did,” Glorfindel countered as he leaned against a carefully cleaned and neatly ordered table. “And I don’t blame you.”

Elrond looked over his shoulder with an ironic half-smile on his face. “I always believe in your abilities, my friend.”

“You’re also practical to a fault. And you wouldn’t be so wrong in thinking that I wanted to be utterly savage to the boy. I wasn’t, but I thought about it. I wished to do so. I would have done so if the boy hadn’t needed my help.”

Elrond hummed in acknowledgement. “I’m sorry that you were placed in such an awkward position. It couldn’t have been easy for you.”

“No. It wasn’t easy at all. However…it was easier than I expected it to be.”

The healer raised an eyebrow at that but neglected to comment. He fished a few more items from the stockpile of herbs and sat them down on a workbench. Out of a row of trimly lined bottles, Elrond selected one and pulled the cork stopper out of the wide neck.

Glorfindel sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. “I promised the boy I would let Erestor know what was going on.”

Elrond stilled in pouring a thick tonic into the bottle. Setting the tonic down, he turned to face the warrior with a grave expression on his face.

“What?” Glorfindel coaxed. His face twisted slightly with worry at Elrond’s face.

“Erestor has not been well since Corchvorn left. It seems he was…harming himself to hide from the pain. I have him in my private suite so I can keep a close eye on him.”

Glorfindel paled. “He’s hurting himself?”

“Yes,” Elrond replied sadly. “He…the boy isn’t well, Glorfindel. He probably never will be.”

“Because of me,” the blond hung his head. The healer was truly surprised by that remark. He had been sure that Glorfindel blamed Corchvorn for everything. That he was blaming himself…

“No, Glorfindel,” Elrond said gently. He stepped away from the work bench and clasped Glorfindel’s shoulder. “There were so many unfortunate circumstances that brought the three of you to where you are. None of you are to blame. All I see is a series of terrible misfortunes that none of you could have foreseen or prevented.”

Glorfindel didn’t lift his head. “How can this be fixed? What could we possibly do to heal…us?”

Elrond’s eyes went blank for a moment and he hitched a little, sharp breath. “Together. You can fix it together,” he replied, almost distantly.

The blond looked up and into Elrond’s oddly vacant eyes. “Together?”

“You will heal together,” the healer said with conviction. Elrond blinked quickly then and slightly shook his head. Looking at Glorfindel again and gently squeezing his shoulder for emphasis, Elrond firmly whispered, “Together.”

Glorfindel nodded. “Thank you,” the warrior said reverently. It wasn’t often that Elrond’s gift of foresight reared its head, and when it did…it was something to be in awe of. The gift of knowing was something sweet and terrifying at the same time.

Elrond inclined his head and released Glorfindel’s shoulder. The healer turned back to his mixtures and picked up the bottle to judge the contents. “Erestor should be sleeping, but I’m sure he’d want to be here with Corchvorn. Would you mind fetching him from my suite?”

The warrior hesitated and hitched his breath. His head was spinning with thoughts and feelings and doubts. It took everything he had to say, “Alright. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I’ll keep Corchvorn company while you’re out.”

Glorfindel took a large, steadying breath and opened the door. With sure strides, the blond hurried from the healing wing and deeper into the house.

Erestor was waiting.

TBC…