Voices In The Dark

Title: Voices In The Dark

A/N: By this point you should know the drill...
Read as you like, Review as you will.
All are Tolkien's, but with my little twist.
Love those elves! Happiness is!

Thanks to Linauri for betaing! She’s doing such a wonderful job!


Chapter Sixteen: One Long Day: Morning Meeting I.


Glorfindel walked through the quiet halls to Legolas’ door the next morning, wondering how the younger elf was feeling after the events of the night before. Did he regret telling him of the dream? Was he still willing to see Elrond as he had agreed to?

Glorfindel had been up quite early already, and had gone to speak with Elrond privately before Anor’s light had barely touched the eastern mountains. The Imladrian Lord had answered his persistent knocking with a bleary-eyed growl, a deep maroon robe thrown loosely on over his black silken pants, his hair a long, tousled mess down his back.

“It is early,” he said, his voice still rough with sleep.

“I know,” the blonde Elda answered, not looking the least contrite. “I have need to speak with you.”

“The kitchen maids have yet to rise.”

Glorfindel couldn’t help but smirk a little. “They rose a short time ago.”

“Anor has not even shone her face,” he continued, still sounding irritated.

“A situation that shall be remedied shortly, I’m sure.”

Elrond heaved a sigh, then moved aside and gestured Glorfindel into his chambers. “This is why we have our discussions in the evenings,” he muttered, closing the door behind the slightly taller elf. “It is supposed to prevent you from waking me before the birds.”

Glorfindel chuckled. “You know I wouldn’t wake you if I didn’t deem it important.”

“I believe your concept of important and mine differ greatly.”

“It’s about Legolas.”

One dark eyebrow rose as the elf lord’s face suddenly became more alert. “Yes? And?” He gestured towards a chair resting before an unlit fireplace, and Glorfindel accepted, perching on the edge in restless manner.

“I spoke with him last night,” he told Elrond, who moved to stand behind the other chair with his arms crossed over his chest and one hand fingering a lock of his dark hair. “He was having a terrible nightmare when I passed his door. It woke him from sleep; a dream where he was turning into an orc and being attacked by other elves.”

“He actually told you this?” Elrond asked, looking a bit surprised. As solitary and aloof as the Mirkwood prince appeared, getting him to tell of anything personal seemed a great achievement.

“After some pressing, yes. I tried to reassure him that there was nothing to fear, that he was in no danger of coming to harm.” He shook his head, searching the floor as if for missing words, before raising his head to look back at his friend. “Elrond, I fear he has somehow convinced himself that he is turning into a creature of Morgoth.”

At those words Elrond gave a start. His mind raced back to his conversations with Master Saeldis, and the former Tutor’s accusations of some sort of dark madness inflicting the younger elf.

Glorfindel noted the moment of shock and consideration, tilting his head slightly in question. “What do you know?” he asked quickly.

“Just a few things Master Saeldis told me. He seems to have similar thoughts regarding our young guest.”

Glorfindel gave him a quizzical look. “I shall assume Thranduil did not know of this, or he would have mentioned something more in his letter. Why has nothing been said before? Saeldis was his tutor, after all.”

Elrond appeared thoughtful. “He said he feared he wouldn’t be believed, which could be true. We are often blind to the faults of our own children, and quick to defend any sort of criticism against them. You have been spending some time with Legolas. Have you seen any signs of this madness?”

Glorfindel shook his head. “Nothing that I would consider of dark design. He has these odd mood swings, as you have no doubt noticed, but he has never harmed any. Except for his attack on Elrohir – ”

“Attack?!” Elrond leaned forwards, his hands dropping to clutch at the empty chair before him. “When did this happen?”

Glorfindel realized no one had told Elrond of the incident, much to his chagrin. Quickly he sought to reassure him that everything was well. He seemed to be doing quite a bit of reassuring lately, which he found a bit humorous despite the situation.

“Yesterday,” he explained, “in the archery field, the twins and I were trying to persuade Legolas to come swimming with us. Elrohir pushed him a little too far and, I believe out of fear, Legolas turned and threatened him at the point of an arrow. He didn’t do any harm; it was more of a warning actually. But it brings me to the other reason I came to see you. He carries burn scars from his shoulder until down past his hip on his right side, the cause of which I think you can guess.”

“The palace fire.”

“Indeed,” Glorfindel nodded.

Elrond sighed. “It would seem much revolves around that particular incident. It might be advantageous to hear his version of the matter.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” Glorfindel rose from the seat with a smile. “You can bring it up when he meets with you this morning.”

“What?”

Glorfindel offered a small smile to the startled elf lord. “Oh, I told him that he should show you the scars. As a great healer, you might be able to have more insight as to why they haven’t completely disappeared. He finally agreed with me last night.”

“Ah.” Elrond looked down at his rumpled sleep clothes. “Then I believe I’ll need time to prepare for the day, now that I’m already up.” He said the last with a scowl. Glorfindel merely laughed.

“I shall leave you be then,” he said, walking to the door. “Only, please, so far as anyone knows I never said anything about the scars to you. I promised Legolas I wouldn’t say a word to anyone, but after last night I thought you should know.” Glrofindel frowned, then stopped and looked back over at his friend. “I don’t know what happened, but I believe someone seriously hurt him somehow. He hasn’t told me very much, and what he has told me seems to be only one part of a much larger problem. I have reason to believe him possibly suicidal.”

“Suicidal?”

“Laurerána spoke to me of self-inflicted injury,” He told Elrond grimly. “I have noted healing wounds on his arm, possibly from a knife. I have not spoken to him of this.”

Elrond appeared thoughtful, heavy creases forming along his brow. “This situation continues to worsen, with no clue as to its cause. I have a strong feeling that Master Saeldis knows something, yet extracting the information is proving difficult.”

“Legolas fears him,” Glorfindel stated, recalling the events of the day before. “Or at least a part of Legolas fears him. After he threatened Elrohir, he caught sight of Saeldis walking past, and for a moment his eyes flashed with anger and terror. Laurerána does not trust Saeldis either, and I reason her view is shared by others.”

Elrond nodded. “Saeldis was his tutor. It is very possible he taught Legolas things or showed him things no elfling should be aware of.”

“You mean he may have inadvertently created his own monster?” Glorfindel’s eyes widened with surprise.

“It is possible. Yet we cannot accuse him without proof. This is all merely conjecture.”

“So noted.”

Elrond nodded in reply. “Perhaps I shall be able to gain some more insight into the problem when I speak with Legolas.”

“I do hope so. I am no healer, and feel out of my depth.”

The dark-haired elf smiled. “He has begun to trust you, which is no small feat.”

“I only pray I can build on that trust,” Glorfindel said with a wry twist to his lips. “If I fail, we may all fail.”

He continued to walk towards the door. “I will return with our young charge soon. Perhaps you can get a more definitive answer from him. If it was Master Saeldis who harmed him…”

“Then we shall deal with it.” Elrond answered grimly.


Review Responses:

Yanic: Thank you, and I’m glad you’re enjoying the building of trust thing going on. One of my biggest pet peeves is stories where after one character has been sexually abused, and is afraid of sexual intimacy, then another character immediately hops into bed with them for some sexual healing and then everything’s okay. It just seems to me that sex after such abuse is like trying to cure someone of being afraid of fire by burning them. Granted, there are always exceptions

Karen: Thanks! But aren’t afflicted elves so much fun?

Crookis: He’s mine! All mine! Bwahaha! Actually, I wish I could have one too. (sigh) Ah well. And some of the answers to the fragments will be forthcoming. Very soon now.

Lelann: Thank you for reviewing! Don’t worry, everything will work out in the end. Hopefully. Probably. (smile)

Ki: My co-workers already think I’m odd. But then again, how did ‘B’ put it? “Bookstore people tend to be the walking wounded.” So I guess we’re all a bit crazy. You included, my dear. And don’t worry, I promised to warn you before anything REALLY bad happens. Heheheh

Zed: Oh, I’m so glad you liked it despite the lack of action. And I’ll try not to do anything that will get me stuck in a padded room. I don’t think they even allow pens, and my muses would eat me alive! (grin)