Hîr o Meril Thaifn [Lord of Rose Pillars]

Hîr o Meril Thaifn [The Lord of Meril Thaifn]
or
Istui Mornedhil Faradrim [Learned Dark-elven Hunters]
by erobey

disclaimer: Tolkien's not mine. Just for fun, folks!


Part Two: Erestor the Hero

Well it was noble, fine, and good to plan on being altruistic and benevolent and self-sacrificing, but all of that became rather difficult to maintain once a lengthy span of hours had transpired leaving Erestor cramped, hungry, and desperately needing to relieve his bladder. Ithil had long since arisen and still the Wood Elf lay draped across his torso in a complete stupor. The Noldo was anxiously and rapidly wiggling his right foot back and forth on the bed in a futile attempt to quell the urge to urinate. His arm ached from being locked in one position for so long beneath the silvan's body.

Legolas might have been freezing with shock but there was nothing wrong with Erestor's health and lying at the bottom a the pile comprised of blankets and a senseless elf had made him hot and sweaty. Next his stomach gave a particularly voluble rumble, something it had been doing with increasing frequency and volume over the last several hours, and he could bear it no longer. Erestor shifted the wounded elf onto his healthy side as cautiously as possible, pleased when no signs of discomfort accompanied the transfer and Legolas remained in the healing trance.

Should have done so long ago for he has not been shivering in quite a while. The Noldo thought a little testily as he hastened to the pool and gratefully answered his body's demands.

Erestor gazed around the cave, which was deep and tall with a high ceiling at least half the cliff's height. The cavern was shadowed but not submerged in pitch darkness for there was a broad beam of silver light streaming down from a crack near the roof. A more muted illumination reached the space through the opening behind the falls. The water in the pool shimmered under the diffused glimmer, little waves shoaling across its dark surface to lap upon the sandy floor.

Still naked the Noldo Lord strode soundlessly back to the bedside and picked up his damp and now muddy leggings, frowning at the mere idea of putting the cold wet material over his skin. He gazed down on the sleeping Wood Elf speculatively and then advanced to the shelves, searching for fresh garments. Legolas was somewhat shorter and slimmer than he, the older elf realised, but he hoped there might be some loose fitting sleeping clothes among the elf's wardrobe. Nothing matching this description materialised.

Erestor became engrossed in examining each article, unfolding and holding up various sets of leggings, tunics and shirts. He noticed two things right away: there were no undergarments and every single item was made of black leather, black silk, or black…something that felt peculiarly slippery and cool to the touch, almost like an extremely fine, spun metal. The Noldor shook his head and spared a glance at the immobile silvan, perplexed. This clothing was not even vaguely reminiscent of the chic sophistication Thranduil's youngest was wont to display in public.

It was a well established fact that Legolas was addicted to attention, having been catered to and spoiled from the time he was born right up until he decided to choose a Dwarf as his boon companion. That had rather dulled the radiance of the golden princeling in the eyes of his family, especially Thranduil, and thus, no longer doted on as the adorable and precocious baby of the clan, he turned to other sources to satisfy his craving for notoriety. He was constantly involved in one capricious activity after another, always discovered in compromising circumstances, usually half- of completely naked, and his promiscuous sexual exploits remained the focus of gossip throughout all of Aman.

He was a frequent guest at Cebir Fain [White Cliffs], Elrond's palatial estate on the shores of Eldamar, and whenever Erestor happened to see him Legolas was decked out in fine materials and elegant adornment. The clothing in the cave was like the outfit he had been wearing when the Noldo discovered him: severe and unembellished, constructed for practicality, economy, and anonymity. By the time Erestor had gone through every single bit of haberdashery the shelves were a shambles compared to the precision of the neatly creased bundles noted on his arrival.

Erestor shook his head and scowled foully as he drew on his cloying, saturated pants and tied them up. He sighed and wandered to the rear of the cave to see if there was any small opening he might have missed or more carved alcoves wherein food stores or a lamp of some sort might be found. Again, nothing useful was revealed. The back of the cave was smooth and ended in a solid barrier displaying neither cracks nor holes of any sort. Disgruntled, the Noldo turned to brace his shoulders upon the wall so that he could glare with due ferocity at the ill-prepared silvan for failing to stock anything edible.

Not even any lembas. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, and with a startled yelp promptly fell over hard upon the stony ground.

The Noldo lay panting in wide eyed panic and disbelief, for he could not truly have just passed right through a wall of solid rock to land in an entirely different room of the cavern. Yet that is exactly what appeared to have occurred. It was all the more disturbing because Erestor could see his upper body but not his legs, for the wall surrounded him from the hips down. He whimpered, fearful to move lest he be crushed, not comprehending how he had got into such a predicament in the first place.

He lifted a trembling hand to push tentatively against the wall and shrieked when the tips of his fingers slipped through it as though it was composed of air. Erestor yanked them back and stared, pleased to find the digits intact, shut his eyes tight and sat up. A slight humming sensation droned around his ears and he dared open one eyelid. He realised he could now see his legs quite plainly as well as the rest of the cave's interior. Like a shot the Noldo bounded from the floor and away from the wall of ghostly stone, shuddering as he looked back and saw the rock displayed, substantial and impenetrable just as it should be.

"Magic!" he whispered. "Rogue Wood Elves, tampering with things they should leave be!"

He paced around the room a few times as his heart rate slowly returned to normal, stopping when he reached the invalid's bed, for Legolas was beginning to stir, moaning in the resurgent agony of his wounds.

"Legolas?" the Noldo bent low and queried. He was rewarded with a clear blue-eyed gaze swimming in physical distress and mental confusion.

"Lord Erestor?"

"Aye. How do you feel?"

"Like I have a great bloody gash in my side," came the sarcastic response as the silvan became fully cognisant and struggled to sit upright, gasping with the effort.

Erestor suddenly remembered that he did not care very much for the youngest son of Thranduil and this insolent attitude was a large part of the reason. He took hold of the archer's arm and pulled him up perhaps more roughly than he ought for Legolas blanched and bit back a shout of torment until all that was left to reach the air was a softly anguished grunt.

"How in Mordor did you find this place? What are you doing here?" the younger elf's tone managed to project a distinct accent of accusatorial arrogance through the discord of discomfort as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

The noble Lord did not appreciate it.

"I happened upon the falls quite by accident, henellon [little boy] for which chance of fate you owe your pathetic excuse for a life!"

Legolas sighed and gave a brief nod, opening his lips to speak, but suddenly froze as a look of absolute dread and wrath combined washed over his features. His attention had shifted to the disarrayed mess of clothing strewn about among the shelves, across the bed, and on the floor.

"Eru's Arse!" he hissed and sent the Noldo a furious glare. "You have been going through my things! Why were you rummaging through my clothes? Did you touch anything else? Valar, you perverted old…old Noldo!"

"How dare you!" shouted Erestor. "I am not one of your twisted admirers, Thranduilion, I assure you. I swam in here and was thus soaked; I merely hoped to find something dry to put on while I watched over your skinny, worthless hide!"

"Oh I find that so reassuring. What else did you handle while I slept? Did you…have you…if you took advantage of me in such a state I will…"

"Of all the vain, narcissistic, arrogant, preposterous and derogatory notions!" Erestor was incensed. "I should call you out for that! You walk dangerous ground to so impugn my character, henellon! I would sooner bed a dwarf than such a spoiled reprobate as you! I think I will just report your insubordination to your father and see what he has to say."

The Wood Elf was on his feet, shakily shuffling over to restore order to the contents of the cupboards, muttering a continuous string of foul epithets and curses under his breath. He flinched noticeably at the Noldo Lord's threat but managed to flash Erestor a withering glare of disdain from blazing sapphire orbs.

"Stop calling me that! I am not a child any longer and I do not care if you tell my father or not!" He returned to inspecting the contents of the shelves and abruptly inhaled an audible breath, swaying on his feet so that he was forced to grip the edge of the stone to keep from collapsing. "Oh no. Oh Valar, please, no!" He rounded in trembling fury on his benefactor bearing an expression that could only be described as demoralised terror, the small black, oblong devise Erestor had examined in his hand. He lifted it up. "Did you touch this?"

"Well, I picked it up, certainly, but…" Erestor stammered.

"Naneth nestagel tele o nâr! [Mother-effing rat's arse!]" Legolas threw the object across the room and it bounced over the stone floor right into the deep, gently rippling pool with a soft, musical splash.

"What did you say?" Erestor's mouth fell ajar in disbelieving shock.

"Thaur Orc ben-adar! [Abhorrent Orc bastard!]"

"Sin orfar, ben-ind, alhand galadh-gabor dithen! [That is quite enough you thoughtless, stupid little tree frog!]" shouted Erestor, red-faced in embarrassment and rage both. To his utter astonishment Legolas broke into a fit of melodic giggles and had to lean on the bookcase for support as he clutched his side.

"Oh Eru, is that the best you can come up with? I would wager you do not even know any profane words, you…you over-rated exalted prick! Of course you would bed a dwarf; what other species would tolerate your touch?" he gasped out between an unlikely mixture of guffaws and groans as his injury flared up under the strain of his heaving lungs.

"Baw! Lasto enni torog rein! Si aniron le eitha, istathach, telegas! Si aniron le eitha, pedithon le alperin ellon sui Adar lín! Le onech dâf naugrim le nestegi!" [Stop! Listen to me, troll shit! If I want to insult you, you will know it, arse-hole! If I want to insult you, I will say you are not half the elf your father is! You let a dwarf fuck you!"]

This vitriolic stream of invectives spewed forth from the regal advisor in such coldly derisive tones that the Wood Elf gasped and all colour drained from his countenance. He stared at Erestor with such a crushed and stricken expression in his wide blue eyes that it looked as though his heart had been verily ripped from his chest and stomped on. He dropped his gaze to the floor and slumped down on the bed in a dejected heap, exhaling a stilted moan as he buried his face in the blankets.

"We were never lovers. Gimli was my friend. He would never do that to me!"

Muffled and muted, this woebegone denial made its way to Erestor's hearing and the forlorn silvan's shoulders shuddered as he heaved a great sigh. That the bruising and welts indeed covered the elf's entire upper body was evident, and the advisor judged Legolas' back more deeply marked than his chest. The noble Lord at once regretted his harsh language and his failure to maintain his composure. Legolas had obviously been involved in some traumatic experience and was probably overwhelmed in pain and misery, lashing out at the handiest target in an effort to expel the accumulating distress.

"Gohena nin, Thranduilion; I should not have lost my temper nor spoken those words," Erestor said quietly.

"I apologise to you also. I should be thanking you for trying to help." Legolas lifted his head with effort and struggled to prop himself up on his elbow, grimacing in pain as he dared a look at his bandaged middle. Blood was once more oozing between his fingers and already a dark stain marred the dazzling white sheets. "Ai! Nestegi! [Ah! Fuck!]"

"You know, I do not recall ever hearing you use such language before, Thranduilion." In spite of himself Erestor shook his head and lightly laughed. "What has happened to you? You look as if you have escaped from Barad-dûr. How were you inured so severely?"

"Please do not call me that; I think I would actually prefer being referred to as a tree frog or troll shit," complained Legolas bitterly and sighed. "The truth is, Lord Erestor, I am in rather a tight spot just now and things are about to get incredibly worse."

"No, really?" The Noldo raised both eyebrows in an expression clearly indicative of exaggerated amaze.

"I am not being facetious! There is little time and I am going to need your assistance if we are both to get out of this unscathed."

"It is rather too late for you to spare yourself injury, Thran…Legolas," commented Erestor. "What in Mordor is going on?"

"I will explain later. For now we need to prepare. I must bind up this hole in my side first. Would you mind retrieving the medicinal supplies from the adjacent room? There is a sort of pantry in there and the kit is on the third shelf down, nearest the floor."

Erestor gazed at the blank wall at the back of the cave, reluctant to replicate his earlier experience, and shuddered.

"What exactly are we preparing for?"

"An unwelcome guest, my Lord. If you do not wish to be involved, now is the time to leave, for that devise you unintentionally activated will have alerted this person to my presence here. He is undoubtedly already en route."

"This individual, is it the one who did this to you?"

"Nay, his brother: Ossë."

Now had Legolas said Melkor himself was about to stroll through the non-solid rear wall Erestor could not have been more surprised. He was struck speechless for a second or two, then shook his head in confusion. Ossë, after all, was one of the Maiar attached to Ulmo's service and while purported to be a little on the belligerent side was not known to be a servant of Darkness. Additionally, Erestor had never heard that the Maia had a brother.

"But…Ossë? Why would Ulmo's apprentice come here looking for you and if he did why would you fear such a visit?"

"Please, Lord Erestor, I do not have time to explain it all just now. I understand if you do not wish to stay, but if you would go then do so at once or you will no longer have the option!"

As he hesitated, Erestor watched Legolas force himself up from the bed and begin oh so slowly limping toward the rear of the cave, clutching his wound and listing over it. His knees were shaking and he was definitely not going to make it to the hidden pantry. The Noldo reached him just as his legs buckled. Swinging the silvan up in his arms effortlessly and returning to the cot, Erestor stared down into the dazed, pain-filled blue depths and smiled as he once more deposited Legolas onto the mattress.

"I will stay. Now tell me again what you need from the room behind the non-existent wall that I see at the end of the cavern." Erestor was quite concerned with the level-headed manner in which Legolas stated such irrational concepts. Ulmo's acolite would have no cause to hinder the elves' departure. The Noldo began to wonder if the former member of the Fellowship of the Ring had received any sharp blows to the head recently along with his other hurts. Whatever was going on, the Wood Elf was in no condition to leave unattended and Erestor decided to humour him.

Legolas produced a wan but genuinely grateful smile and went over the list more carefully. He let Erestor proceed to within a foot of the wall then reached for another of the small black objects in the bookcase, pointed it at the rock, pressed one of the buttons and said: "Edro annin" [Open for me] in dramatically accented tones. The mirage shimmered and dissolved away, revealing the wide arched opening into the smaller cavern.

"Bloody Wood Elves and their parlour tricks," Erestor startled and gasped, halting in his tracks to peer over his shoulder at the grinning silvan. As he strode forward more confidently, he caught Legolas' complacent chuckle behind him.

Once all the required items were gathered at the bedside, Legolas took inventory: there was a medical kit; four large colourless, transparent, intricately faceted gems; a tremendous blown glass jar with a fitted top that screwed down tight; a small spirit lamp and a ceramic bowl; a butler's whisk broom and dustpan; a tea towel; a block of paraffin; and a metal canister with a sealed stopper. He nodded with satisfaction.

Erestor now faced the task of treating the injury anew. This time things did not go as easily for Legolas, as he was conscious throughout the ordeal, and the noble Lord was impressed with the archer's fortitude and endurance during the excruciating procedure of cleaning and rebinding the gaping hole. When it was done the woodland fey lay panting softly, eyes shut and brow sheened in sweat, one hand protectively resting over the clean white bandage. After a few minutes he was able to compose himself somewhat and presented another shaky grin to his unlikely physician.

"Hannad," he croaked hoarsely and swallowed to clear his dry throat.

Erestor took the bowl from his collection of items and hastened to the water's edge, scooping up the cool liquid and then assisting Legolas to drink it. He was able to prop the Wood Elf up into a reclining position using the numerous pillows and then tucked the covers around his waist.

"That is better," he said kindly and met Legolas' bemused expression. "What?"

"Nothing, I was just not expecting you to have such a compassionate bedside manner."

"You wound me, silvan! I am known far and wide for my sympathetic nature."

They both laughed at this a little, for the Noldo was usually perceived as aloof and unapproachable, but Legolas winced from the pain it caused and that stopped the fun at once.

"I had better explain what to do now, in case I pass out, which is likely," Legolas took a breath and began. "Ossë does not know nor suspect that you are here and that is our only advantage. You must hide near at hand. Set out the gems upon the floor, there, near the bookcase, one for each corner of a 1 metre square." When Erestor had completed this task, Legolas picked up the black devise and punched a series of the buttons, aiming the end of the oblong object at each crystal in turn. At once a shimmery image grew, abutting the true stone beside the bookcase, and then seemed to gel into a segment of rock that had not been there before.

"It is just like the other wall, not really there at all. You can safely get behind it and Ossë will never guess as long as you are silent. He has never been here and does not know the actual layout of the cave," explained Legolas.

"Take everything else and place it behind the barrier. Light up the spirit lamp and melt the paraffin, remove the lid from the jar, and keep this canister in hand. At the opportune moment, you must open it and pour the contents over Ossë. It will render him into an unconscious state but not do him any serious harm. With luck he will be disabled for a day or three, long enough for us to make a clean escape."

"Opportune moment? How will I know when that arrives? You must be more forthcoming if you expect me to be of any use to you Legolas," complained Erestor as he transferred the items to the newly created false closet and set up the little stove. "And what am I to do with the wax and this jar?"

"That I cannot explain in words, anymore than I could have described the purpose for those gems until you beheld it with your own eyes. Trust me for I have faith in you, Lord Erestor, and your judgement. I have no doubt that you will recognise the proper instant as it unfolds." Legolas' words were grim and his expression dark, his indigo eyes focused inward as though lost in memory. He blinked and focused them on the Noldo with a sad smile. "All will be well."

Erestor had his doubts, for the Wood Elf was not looking very fit at all, but remained silent. Legolas' breath was short and shallow and his body gleamed with perspiration generated by the heat of fever. The Noldo was quite concerned for while the bruises and lashes were healing over, the puncture wound had not closed at all. From the symptoms presented, he was beginning to fear Legolas was poisoned. Even as he watched, the silvan's eyes slipped shut and his head sagged to the side; he had lost consciousness just as he had predicted. Quickly Erestor checked the patient's pulse and respiration, finding both regular but thready, and readjusted the cushions to better support Legolas' exhausted body.

There was nothing else to do at the moment, however, so Erestor sat down on the end of the bed to wait. He had no intention of rendering the Maia senseless. Whatever had happened to Legolas, the Noldo was sure Ossë could not have been involved and was more convinced than ever that the Wood Elf was succumbing to some sort of delirious paranoia as a result of whatever toxin was working through his system. Ossë, he reasoned, would be able to help him get Legolas back to civilisation and into a healer's care.

But then again, the whole idea of the aquatic istar showing up must be part of the strange delusion, too. Erestor realised. I have no choice but to leave him and go seek aid.

Just as he had risen from the bed to follow through on this thought, a tremendous splash of water surged up over the side of the pool, coalesced into a long, narrow column of blue liquid, and took on the slightly altered morphology of a tall, imposing elven Lord. The Maia had arrived.

TBC

Thank you Jasta! I am happy you like this one, it is lighter than Feud and gives me a little break.

Stephie P! So glad you found this one and are interested! I am hoping for the return of your 'Late Night' series in the future!