the trouble with love

Chapter forty-one Trouble never travels alone

Haldir was glad he saw Elrond already marching towards him. He grinned at the expression on the Half-Elf’s face. “Apparently our lady has already told him we were coming. Look at his face.”
Elrond, who hadn’t wasted any time waiting for them on the porch, growled. “No, the trees did. Couldn’t you have picked a better moment to bring me two prisoners?”

Haldir dismounted and bowed respectfully. “Forgive us, but we had no say in the matter. They appeared on our road and we could not let them wander around. Our lord and lady have instructed us to bring them here.”

He squinted his eyes when he saw a distant look on both Elrond’s face as well as on Ecthelion’s. Not trusting the situation he gave his brothers a signal.
Rumil placed the tip of his dagger to his charge’s throat while Orophin snuffed, drew his dagger and hit the prisoner over the head.

The second the elf before him blacked out the alert expression returned to Elrond and Ecthelion. Ecthelion shook his head to get rid of the buzzing sound and the feeling of loneliness while Elrond rubbed his temples. “Thank you. I take it Galadriel provided you with some antidote?”
Haldir nodded. “She said it would counter his” and he pointed to the unconscious elf in front of Orophin, “magic, but we had no idea what she meant.”

Elrond nodded. “I do. Now! I don’t know what I prefer: the One Ring or -this-. He’s powerful. Without you realising it he enters your mind and uses your own weaknesses against you.” He pinched himself to make sure this wasn’t another illusion. “Take him to the prison and guard him yourselves. I will provide you with more antidote. I shall have to bind that one’s magic I suppose. And who’s that?”

Rumil grinned. “His companion. Not very talkative, though. Unlike our wizard.” His grin deepened. “When he figured he couldn’t ‘charm’ us he started uttering one spell after another. Made the journey real edgy.”
Elrond smiled in understanding and approached Rumil’s horse. His gaze hardened when he realised who that was. “Impound that one as well. His punishment will be decided later.”

He turned and marched back inside. “Ecthelion, please inform Glorfindel about these events. And then get yourself into a cold bath.” Ecthelion nodded and turned the corridor that would lead him to Glorfindel’s room. Haldir smiled and signalled to his brothers. Together they brought the two prisoners to the prison. They would take shifts guarding them.

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Elvil turned his head when the door opened and grinned at the parade that entered his room. “Elnihir, are you all right? What is happening?” He jumped and hugged the other close.

Elnihir giggled. “I’m fine. Ata’da told us to come here. Well, actually he told uncle and Legolas, but uncle wanted Melpomean and me to come to. I’m sorry.”
Elvil smiled, knowing precisely what Elnihir was talking about. “Me too.” He cocked his head when he saw Legolas and Elladan were armed.

Elladan sat down on the chair and pulled him onto his lap. “Melpomean wanted us to protect you. I don’t see how we can do that without weapons. I don’t know why, though I’ve the feeling you do.”
Elvil closed his eyes as Elladan made sure he was settled comfortably and held back a sigh when he felt Elladan’s hand move through his hair. He rested his head on Elladan’s chest, drawing in the other’s scent. He nodded. “What do you know?”

Hearing these words Legolas looked at Elladan, indicating he would take Elnihir out the room for there might be things they still did not know, but the eldest twin signalled him to stay. “All we know is what Melpomean found out.” His eyes ordered the secretary to retell the tale.

Melpomean swallowed. “I cannot tell you more, Elladan. I promised you father I would not repeat it to anyone.” Elvil looked up and smiled. “But I am not anyone, Melpomean. Elrond asked that thinking of my safety. But I know I can trust you all to keep it a secret and I’m going to need help.”
Melpomean nodded, but remained silent. He wasn’t going to break a promise to Elrond. Elvil understood. “I guess I better talk and you’ll interrupt me when I give double information.” Elladan’s hold tightened for which he was grateful. He cd hid his eyes as he called back the images.

“You know Elrond is my foster and how I was found and named, right?” He smiled when he saw Elnihir’s concerned gaze upon him. But his smile increased when he saw the interaction between Elnihir and Legolas. “So you know that Elvil isn’t my real name.” He smiled. “My real name is Silmaïthil and my parents were of Vanyar and Teleri origin.”

His hands grabbed Elladan’s tunic and he squished them, forcing his voice to remain steady and calm. “Millennia ago, even before the kin slayings, a group of elves retreated to I-Phathadyr. They existed of every race and lived there in peace; they did not venture out and they only tidings they received of the outside world was through nature. In this hidden way of living they became familiar with the ways of magic and slowly they learned how to wield it. But with that knowledge comes responsibility. The need of a leader, who guided its power into safe paths, became stronger.
Already in the beginning they’ve made my father their ruler, though he did not claim titles or anything.
For a long time he and my mother were happy. After a few centuries my mother learned she could not get pregnant. 175 years ago the people of I-Phathadyr wanted to give her something special for her name day. They preformed a chant that would enable her to conceive.”

He noticed the knowing glance between the others and stopped talking. “I thought you would stop me?” Elladan turned his head to look at him. “Melpomean did tell us your age, but it contradicted the age you told me earlier. But he was right.” Seeing Elvil’s puzzled look Elladan smiled. “You told me you were 75, remember?”
Elvil nodded. “I am.” Now it was Elladan to look puzzled. “But you just said 175 years ago your mother got pregnant and...” Elvil nodded. “She did. With my brother.” He grinned and turned his head to look at Melpomean. “Did you get the two of us mixed? He would be 175 now. If he were still alive.”

He sighed, drawing strength from Elladan’s embrace. “I was born a century after him but by that time the outside world had learned of our existence. Or at least evil had. Dark forces attacked us methodically; the attacks were always swift and sudden. We had no time to prepare, and hardly any to defend ourselves. Slowly our numbers went down. When I had reached maturity my brother got killed in one of the attacks. He knew he would and he told me to look after father and mother for him.” His eyes became wet with his tears and he smiled weakly when he felt Elnihir’s supportive hand. “Five years later my father told everybody to leave. Many took to the Grey Havens, some went to ‘Lóriën. My father had said we would go to Imladris. Some of the warriors stayed behind to make sure we got there safely. They would go to Valinor afterwards. They never even made it to the Grey Havens. We were ambushed and murdered.”

He sagged against Elladan; he needed to feel his rock to keep him sane. “Father and the soldiers told my mother to take me to Imladris; we weren’t far from the borders. At some point she turned back. I tried to stop her; I tried to save her, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t.” Elladan tightenes hos hold and forced his own tears back. He did not know what to say.

Suddenly Melpomean laid his hand on Elvil’s shoulder. “You are not to blame. You were faced with an overwhelming amount of evil. Take comfort in the fact they will be reborn.”
Elvil sniffed and managed a weak smile. “I do. And I should be grateful I survived at all. If Onardodya hadn’t been there I would have walked Mandos’ Halls as well.”
“Elvil?” He looked at Elnihir and read the question in his eyes. “The leader forced me to drink something, a poison that would have killed me. I don’t know what happened but when they had made me swallow it I felt my feet disappear and I was dragged away. And the first memory after that is of Imladris. I think she placed the medallion around my neck, thus saving my life.”

Legolas nodded. “There’s one thing I don’t understand though. How come it turned you into a baby?” Elvil shrugged. “The only reason I have is that I had already died.”
Legolas squinted his eyes. “You were reborn?” Elvil nodded, smiling when he heard Elladan’s non-believing gasp. “I was. It wasn’t able to bring me back, but it was able to speed up the rebirth process.”
“That we wouldn’t have guessed.” Melpomean said. “Elrond thought the magic of the medallion, combined with the poison made you a baby. If he learns this he will not believe it.” “He will have to, for it is the truth. But my murderer is still out there, so I don’t want others to know.” He laughed when he heard Elnihir hiss. Legolas laughed as well. “What he said.” Elladan grinned. “You mean being a snake? Legolas, I really thought you more a spider.”

He grinned at Legolas’ outraged face. Melpomean shook his head at the antics that followed. Elnihir, who had never seen a spider, asked Legolas what they looked like and if they were dangerous. Legolas went into telling many vivid tales of the ones that used to live in Mirkwood. It gave Elvil the time to overcome his pain that came with this reliving. He suspected Elladan would arrange for their rest soon. He knew three elves in the room that needed it, himself included.

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He smiled at his sleeping lover, who looked stunningly beautiful in his sleep. The light entering his room illuminated his form, accentuating it at all the right places. His hand hovered over the beautiful hair, caressing it without touching it, knowing that would wake him.

He settled back into the loving cocoon and wiggled closer. His sleeping lover responded by drawing him closer still, mumblingoheroherent words. He had just rested his head on his lover’s shoulder, smiling in contentment, when his eyes widened. “It can’t be.” Focusing on his radar he knew it indeed -was-. Fear clawed at his heart and he jumped out of bed.

The movements instantly woke his lover who shook his head to get rid of the remnants of sleep. He stared at his pacing lover, who resembled a caged animal. He jumped out of bed and approached him. Forcing him to halt he grasped his shoulders. “What on Arda is wrong?” The haunted eyes fixed on him and the pain in them stabbed his heart. “Melamin?”

Seeing his lover Sealbeth sagged against him. He needed his strength, his protection. “Náro simen.”

Valthroman pulled him close and swallowed. /This better not be what I think it is./ Even though rage entered his heart he forced it away, knowing Sealbeth needed him here. “Who’s here, Melamin?”

Sealbeth’s grip tightened and he lowered his face on the strong shoulder. “Faegum cothen.” He felt the hands turn to fists, a silent promise to protect him. “Adar.” The word almost was unspoken but Valthroman heard it none the less and his rage intensified. “I won’t allow him to come near you ever again.”

Sealbeth broke down and for the first time in his life let out the pain and tears he had been hiding for so long. Valthroman supported him, keeping him from falling into the shadows of the past.

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Ecthelion smiled when he saw Glorfindel standing in the open window, gazing at the stars. He did not know what to think of it though. He had already knocked on the open door before entering and had mentioned Glorfindel’s name trice, but the blond had not acknowledged him at all. /Is he sleeping on the spot?/ Right now he held anything for possible.

He looked around; several bottles were scattered around the room. /Did he drink all this tonight? Every night?/ He remembered Elrond’sds wds which led him to believe this wasn’t a single occasion. /But why?/

He carefully approached the elf. Standing behind him he wanted to touch his shoulder but his hand froze in midair when he heard the blond speak. It took him a while to figure out Glorfindel was so lost in his thoughts he did not know he wasn’t alone. It was also obvious the words weren’t meant for him.

“And then they came. I still don’t know how any one could have betrayed us like that and to open the gates for those creatures. The fall of Gondolin, they call it. A second kin slaying, that’s what it was. O, my love, where are you? I saw you fall hours before that Balrog showed up and ended my life. I did not find you. Do you know Mandos’ cold was warm compared to the cold of loneliness? I miss you. Do you watch these stars as well?”

Ecthelion was about to tiptoe out, leaving Glorfindel alone, but the next words froze him on the spot. “Are you reborn, beloved? And where do you life? My Ecthelion.” He heard Glorfindel sigh. A long, loving sigh filled with longing and pain. He closed his eyes to hold back his tears. /Whom is he referring to? It can’t be me./

He heard Glorfindel’s voice change and listened as the blond started talking about the present. “There’s a new elf. He came from Valinor. He’s so much like you, Ecthelion; he not just carries your name, but he holds himself the way you would. But his eyes are different. They do not have your light. You, who saw so much sorrow and pain, have the most shining eyes. The more pain you saw the more you shone, as if to defy it. But he’s, I don’t know, empty I guess.”

Ecthelion stayed no longer. He could not hear these words and he ran out. He bumped into a table on the way out and the bottle, which was teetering on the edge, was sent on a collision course with the floor.

Hearing the sound of shattering glass, Glorfindel whirled around, his eyes immediately flying towards the table, eager to find the origin of the noise. Seeing the bottle in pieces he squinted his eyes; there was a handprint on his table where someone had leaned for awhile. Seeing the door ajar he came to life and broke out into a run, pursuing whomever had invaded his privacy. In the corridor he saw a cloak riding the air, indicating the owner was running and Glorfindel followed it. He was glad he saw it fly towards the gardens. If he lost sight he would at least be able to track it. /I hope I don’t pass out in the gardens. Good thing I didn’t drink so much./

End chapter 41
TBC

Translations:

I-Phathadyr means the closed lands; the word is Quenya, but with Sindarin grammar rules. I did this because to emphasise the tale. If they lived in relative exile it is logical they do not follow ‘normal’ rules. (I take ph (and not the expected b) because it’s plural. I just left out the n. this for those who know a bit more about the tongues)
Náro simen means he’s here
Faegum cothen means my worst enemy (Sindarin)
Adar means father