The Wrong Path
Chapter 19
Author: Erviniae
Chapter 19/?
Prompt: #45 “The Wrong Path”
For the Hall of Books challenge
Pairing: Erestor/Ecthelion, Erestor/OFC, Glorfindel/OFC
Rating: PG to NC-17
Warning: AU, M/M, angst
Beta: aglarien1 and nikkiling –Thank you kindly.
Disclaimer: All belongs to the esteemed Tolkien. I make no profit
in having fun with his wonderful universe.
Summary: Sometimes the wrong path is often the right one.
Feedback: If you would be so kind.arning: AU, Angst, M/M
The village on the outskirts of Calacirya came into view in the distance. Eagles flew overhead, circling near the cliffs. A horn bellowed deep the arrival of the few ships that brought such precious cargo home. Palpable anticipation ran throughout the dock. Valinor’s favorite son had come home at last. Word was sent months ahead of the impending arrival. Many were the Elves who crowded into the seaport village that day; all to lay claim to being amongst the first to witness the arrival of Elrond of Imladris. Though he did not think so, Elrond was a hero amongst Elven-kind. All knew of his sacrifices; all knew of his many losses, and yet his honor was ever steadfast and his care for his people never wavered.
Celebrían wrung her hands constantly, her heart fluttering heavily against her chest. She had taken extreme care in her appearance. She wore her light hair straight down her back except for four love knots tied within: one for each of her children and one for her husband. Her dress of light green caught the sparkle of her eyes. Not just one time did she find herself ready to give into one emotion or another, whichever surfaced next within her. Years upon years she had grieved and eventually healed, here in the land of her people. Though some hurts could never fully be repaired, she was shown how to cope with them all. Immersing herself in the building of New Imladris, in hopes of having her family with her once more, was a balm to soothe her once much troubled soul.
Galadriel and Erestor accompanied Elrond down the gangplank. Instead of rejoicing at finally being in Valinor, their only thought was to get Elrond healing. The requisite census takers were enthralled by sight of the Elves before them. Unable to utter their practiced greetings, they instead dripped ink onto the parchment before them, as with wide eyes and opened mouths, they watched the majesty of Lady Galadriel and of Lord Elrond pass before them. Not until they watched as Lady Celebrían broke into a near run, her skirts discreetly in her hands, did they realize their error. Lord Glorfindel, the Marchwarden Haldir, and another unknown female Elf were next to follow. This time they remembered their duties and while blushing at the infamous Lord Glorfindel’s presence before them, they gently asked for verification of all that were disembarking.
Glorfindel quietly gave the names and with a gracious nod to the census takers, took Lothwen’s hand in his as they followed their lord eagerly. They watched as a tearful Celebrían embraced both Elrond and Galadriel. Squeezing Glorfindel’s hand in support, Lothwen suppressed a sob of her own in her throat. Suddenly her eyes opened wide and she laughed and began to pull Glorfindel along with a renewed strength.
“Father!” Melpomaen called hurriedly.
“Father!”
Erestor’s head snapped up as he heard his son’s voice.
“Go,” Elrond nodded.
Erestor bowed his head in deference before turning all his attention to his son. Erestor found himself almost knocked over from the intensity of the hug that was being given to him.
“Let me look at you!” Erestor laughed as he managed to hold his son at bay from more squeezing. Grinning from ear to ear, the two laughed and hugged once more.
“Me too!” A sweet voice spoke, and as Erestor turned to hug Fauniel, he found he could not get a good grip: her stomach stood in the way.
“What is this?” Erestor grinned as he kissed Fauniel’s cheek.
“A welcome home present,” teased Melpomaen and as Lothwen approached, she squealed in delight, hugging and rubbing Fauniel’s belly.
“You’ve been busy, my son,” teased Lothwen as she hugged him tight.
“Yes.” He managed to squeak the sound from within her ironclad grip.
Glorfindel stood back, watching the scene develop before him, feeling a bit awkward. Haldir stood beside him, searching the area for a familiar face. At that very moment Celebrían managed to greet those so faithful to her family. Both bowed before her but she waved them off and hugged and kissed the returned warriors.
“I have carriages waiting to take us all back to New Imladris. Glorfindel, your parents are there awaiting your return, as are yours, dear guardian.” She smiled fondly whilst leading them to the carriages. Lothwen grabbed for Glorfindel and pulled him in to the reunion where both her son and his wife summarily hugged him in welcome.
“Congratulations.” He nodded once.
“Thank you!” the expecting couple exclaimed in unison.
As the small party was led to the carriages, Erestor scanned the faces in the crowd near the busy little seaport village. The village was filled with Elves working happily or relaxing. Lothwen noticed him scanning the area. She knew for whom he looked. Feeling her gaze, Erestor sighed heavily and turned to her, taking her other arm.
“Come, Grandmother,” he teased, “let us go to our new home.”
“Oh, my, but are we that old?” she cringed.
“Aye,” smirked Glorfindel, which earned him a pout from Lothwen and a sneer from Erestor.
A lone rider sat upon a brilliant black steed, high upon the ridge of rock surrounding Calacirya. His black hair billowed behind him as the high winds wisped by, lifting up the errant strands to whip at his comely face. The horse whinnied and stamped its foot, feeling its owner’s unease. He arrived in time to see Erestor enter the waiting carriage. His heart flipped in his chest at the visage of the one who had held it so enthralled all those many years ago. His stomach lurking at the glimmer those raven locks gave off in the fading sunshine. Memories assaulted him, nearly causing him to call out in their attack. He strained his hearing and thought he caught the timbre of his voice floating on the breeze. He watched until the carriage faded into the horizon, until tears stung at his eyes.
“Coward.” He spat and steered his horse back to his home.
TBC….