The Music in My Heart
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
75
Views:
3,772
Reviews:
11
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
75
Views:
3,772
Reviews:
11
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 20 I Still Have a Dream
Title: The Music in My Heart, Chapter 20 (betaed)
Author: Sorsha
Fandom/Pairing: Elrond/OFC, Glorfindel/Haldir, Elladan/OFC, Elrohir/Legolas, others implied
Rating:.NC-17 for future chapters
Warning: AU --- Story set 770 years after ROTK; Some slash but, mostly het
Feedback: This is my first fanfic, so constructive feedback appreciated.
Archive:
Acknowledgements: Many thanks to Alex Cat for her help in betaing this fic. Thanks also to Lady Victoria for her comments and support.
Disclaimer: Any of the residents of Middle-earth and Aman that you recognize belong to Prof. Tolkien’s estate. The same is true about Middle-earth and Aman. I’m only visiting and admiring the “views”.
Summary: Sauron may be gone, but his legacy of evil still lingers. As Middle-earth faces the threat of another dark lord, a party of elves departs Aman on a mission for the Valar, a mission of mercy long delayed.
Chapter 20 --- I Still Have a Dream
“If you lose hope, somehow you lose the vitality that keeps life moving,
you lose that courage to be,
that quality that helps you go on in spite of it all.
And so today I still have a dream.”
Martin Luther King, Jr.
*****
The silence in the study was absolute. The six elves and one elleth were bereft of words, their hurt and shock overwhelming all else. None knew what to say to make the impossible make sense. How do you understand the betrayal of one that was loved as a son, a brother, and a friend, especially when that betrayal involved the murder of two… and very nearly a third?
Standing, Celeborn walked over to the table holding the decanter of miruvor. Silently, he divided the quantity between seven glasses. Taking the empty container, he walked to the door of the study and signaled an attendant. Handing it to the elf, he quietly asked that it be refilled and returned. He closed the door, returned to the table, and picked up two glasses of the potent drink. One by one, he handed a glass to each of his companions, his family. As silently as he began, he returned to his seat before taking a sip from his glass.
Sometimes there is nothing that can be said to ease a pain too deeply felt. Questions and, maybe, a few answers would wait for the next day. For the moment, there was only the comfort of shared grief, shared love, and shared relief, a profound thanks that their beloved Elrohir had been spared.
*****
/Why?/ The single question played over and over in his head. The events in the dungeon corridor had left him reeling, groping for an answer to explain how the elf he had loved as a son had committed murder.
Glorfindel wondered aimlessly through the gardens replaying every encounter he had had with Ermehtar since his return. /What sign did I miss that should have told me his heart had turned dark? There must have been something! Were there signs when he was an elfling and I failed us all by missing them?/
Coming to a large rock perched by the banks of the Bruinen, he wearily sat down. Memories of days long gone flashed before his swimming eyes --- the smile on Ermehtar’s face as he lead the horse he had found as a thirtieth begetting day present for his young friend into the paddock… a sparring match he refereed between Elrohir and his friend, the three young elflings shrieking with joy as they dove and swam in the river…. Tears poured down the warriors cheeks as the grief in his heart took over.
Two sets of brilliant blue eyes watched under the cover of the night as the proud warrior bent to bury his face in shaking hands; both watched and waited.
*****
Without the need for spoken conformation, Elladan and Elrohir walked back together to the suite of rooms they shared. A large sitting room was situated between the identical flanking chambers that housed the private rooms of the twins. Neither was surprised to find their beloved waiting for them in this shared space. Wordlessly, they stepped into the comforting embraces that opened before them.
For a long time the four stood lost in their pain and united by their love, but also by the fear of how close they had come to losing Elrohir. Knowing the twins would need to be close to each other to make it through the night, their mates gently lead the pair to the two large chairs they had pushed together by the large windows. Without a word spoken, the two sets of lovers curled into the comfort of the overstuffed chairs, each twin now free to spill their pain against their love’s offered shoulder as the rays of Ithil poured through the windows. Sighing, they felt the still of the night settle in around them.
*****
The two old friends claimed the two chairs Elrond and Seere had used earlier in the evening. The refreshed bottle of miruvor sat between them on the table. Neither expected easy comfort or answers to make sense of the insensible. They had lived too many long years to think that was possible. But Celeborn and Erestor knew the value of their friendship and knew it would see them through this tragedy, as it had so many before.
*****
The Lord of Imladris felt the weight of his years settle on his shoulders; felt them all the more keenly for the contrast to his pleasure earlier in the evening. The horror of the vision, the fear for his son’s life, the grief over the death of an old friend… and of one of the five, and the pain over the betrayal of one he held dear torn at his heart.
/Galu am i Elbereth! If not for the vision Seere and I shared, my son would be dead at the hand of one he called brother. Thanks be to Eru that my son was spared!/ (Blessings upon the Star-lady!)
Rubbing his hand over eyes burning with unshed tears, Elrond moved to the archway leading onto the balcony off of his sitting room. He had always preferred the view it afforded over the one from the balcony off his bedchambers, though that one was the more private. Tonight, he was blind to the beauty of his valley.
Leaning heavily against the doorframe, he began to unfasten the clasps holding his formal robes in place. Tossing the heavy garment onto a nearby chair, he stared out across the gardens to the river beyond with unseeing eyes. A welcomed breeze drifted through the trees, cooling the lingering heat in the stones of the balcony floor.
A faint noise from the adjacent balcony penetrated the fog of emotions clouding his mind. /What was that?/
Moving toward the balustrade separating the two spaces, he peered into the dark trying to see what had caused the sound. /There it is again. Someone is crying. Seere./
Torn by the elleth’s obvious pain, he called out her name in a low, gentle voice. Getting no response, he tried again, yet still received no answer.
Reacting from a combination of his own pain and the need to comfort the elleth who was rapidly capturing his heart, he swung his right leg over the railing and pivoted his body to follow. Dropping quietly to the deck, he slowly moved in the direction of the sounds of her grief.
“Seere? Tis I, Elrond. Seere?”
Her head lifted from the pillows piled on an ornate chaise lounge that dominated the space of the balcony. Her face had been ravaged by her grief and a steady stream of tears left trails that glowed silver in the moonlight along each cheek. “My lord?”
Caught in the moment, Elrond moved to her side and pulled her unresisting form up into his arms. Seere buried her face against his chest as she clutched him to her body. A fresh storm of tears hit, leaving her shaking with the force of her pain.
Without conscious thought, Elrond lower them both to the chaise and settled himself into the pillows. Lifting her into his lap, he nestled her firmly against his chest. Lowering his head, he hid his face in the curtain of her hair and let his own tears fall. Awareness of anything other than their shared pain and the comfort found in the other’s arms was forgotten.
Neither noticed the soothing flow of healing energy that flared to life between them, forging another link connecting their fëar. The bond that formed was tentative, yet held the potential of great power. They heard, but did not yet understand the song that whispered to their hearts. Both were oblivious to the fact that their lives had just changed forever.
*****
Glorfindel lost track of the passage of time as he sat upon the rock lost in his grief, but the warm, strong hand that settled upon his right shoulder gradually pulled him back to awareness. Looking up, he found himself gazing at the profile of a fellow warrior. No words were spoken as both knew he could offer nothing to comfort him… save his company.
Sighing, Glorfindel turned his eyes back to the flow of the river. /No, Haldir you are too wise to think there is anything you can say to take away this pain, but your company is a blessed consolation./ Subtly, he shifted to his left making room for the Lorien elf to join him on the rock.
Haldir sat down beside him, dropping his hand in the process. Pulling his legs to his chest, he wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his head against his raised legs. After a few minutes, he lifted his eyes to study the Balrog Slayer. Sky blue eyes met dark blue eyes to exchange a silent message of unconditional support before he returned his gaze to the rushing waters before them.
A sad pair of blue eyes watched from the nearby woods; watched and knew a chance, an opportunity had been lost. Confused by this feeling and blinded by tears, their owner turned and disappeared into the silent forest.
*****
The long night passed and the family of Imladris watched as the rays of Anor filtered through the trees on the eastern slope of the valley. The pain of the coming day would have to be faced, but the hours of the night had provided their comfort. Hope had not been lost, merely dealt a harsh blow.
*****
Author: Sorsha
Fandom/Pairing: Elrond/OFC, Glorfindel/Haldir, Elladan/OFC, Elrohir/Legolas, others implied
Rating:.NC-17 for future chapters
Warning: AU --- Story set 770 years after ROTK; Some slash but, mostly het
Feedback: This is my first fanfic, so constructive feedback appreciated.
Archive:
Acknowledgements: Many thanks to Alex Cat for her help in betaing this fic. Thanks also to Lady Victoria for her comments and support.
Disclaimer: Any of the residents of Middle-earth and Aman that you recognize belong to Prof. Tolkien’s estate. The same is true about Middle-earth and Aman. I’m only visiting and admiring the “views”.
Summary: Sauron may be gone, but his legacy of evil still lingers. As Middle-earth faces the threat of another dark lord, a party of elves departs Aman on a mission for the Valar, a mission of mercy long delayed.
Chapter 20 --- I Still Have a Dream
“If you lose hope, somehow you lose the vitality that keeps life moving,
you lose that courage to be,
that quality that helps you go on in spite of it all.
And so today I still have a dream.”
Martin Luther King, Jr.
*****
The silence in the study was absolute. The six elves and one elleth were bereft of words, their hurt and shock overwhelming all else. None knew what to say to make the impossible make sense. How do you understand the betrayal of one that was loved as a son, a brother, and a friend, especially when that betrayal involved the murder of two… and very nearly a third?
Standing, Celeborn walked over to the table holding the decanter of miruvor. Silently, he divided the quantity between seven glasses. Taking the empty container, he walked to the door of the study and signaled an attendant. Handing it to the elf, he quietly asked that it be refilled and returned. He closed the door, returned to the table, and picked up two glasses of the potent drink. One by one, he handed a glass to each of his companions, his family. As silently as he began, he returned to his seat before taking a sip from his glass.
Sometimes there is nothing that can be said to ease a pain too deeply felt. Questions and, maybe, a few answers would wait for the next day. For the moment, there was only the comfort of shared grief, shared love, and shared relief, a profound thanks that their beloved Elrohir had been spared.
*****
/Why?/ The single question played over and over in his head. The events in the dungeon corridor had left him reeling, groping for an answer to explain how the elf he had loved as a son had committed murder.
Glorfindel wondered aimlessly through the gardens replaying every encounter he had had with Ermehtar since his return. /What sign did I miss that should have told me his heart had turned dark? There must have been something! Were there signs when he was an elfling and I failed us all by missing them?/
Coming to a large rock perched by the banks of the Bruinen, he wearily sat down. Memories of days long gone flashed before his swimming eyes --- the smile on Ermehtar’s face as he lead the horse he had found as a thirtieth begetting day present for his young friend into the paddock… a sparring match he refereed between Elrohir and his friend, the three young elflings shrieking with joy as they dove and swam in the river…. Tears poured down the warriors cheeks as the grief in his heart took over.
Two sets of brilliant blue eyes watched under the cover of the night as the proud warrior bent to bury his face in shaking hands; both watched and waited.
*****
Without the need for spoken conformation, Elladan and Elrohir walked back together to the suite of rooms they shared. A large sitting room was situated between the identical flanking chambers that housed the private rooms of the twins. Neither was surprised to find their beloved waiting for them in this shared space. Wordlessly, they stepped into the comforting embraces that opened before them.
For a long time the four stood lost in their pain and united by their love, but also by the fear of how close they had come to losing Elrohir. Knowing the twins would need to be close to each other to make it through the night, their mates gently lead the pair to the two large chairs they had pushed together by the large windows. Without a word spoken, the two sets of lovers curled into the comfort of the overstuffed chairs, each twin now free to spill their pain against their love’s offered shoulder as the rays of Ithil poured through the windows. Sighing, they felt the still of the night settle in around them.
*****
The two old friends claimed the two chairs Elrond and Seere had used earlier in the evening. The refreshed bottle of miruvor sat between them on the table. Neither expected easy comfort or answers to make sense of the insensible. They had lived too many long years to think that was possible. But Celeborn and Erestor knew the value of their friendship and knew it would see them through this tragedy, as it had so many before.
*****
The Lord of Imladris felt the weight of his years settle on his shoulders; felt them all the more keenly for the contrast to his pleasure earlier in the evening. The horror of the vision, the fear for his son’s life, the grief over the death of an old friend… and of one of the five, and the pain over the betrayal of one he held dear torn at his heart.
/Galu am i Elbereth! If not for the vision Seere and I shared, my son would be dead at the hand of one he called brother. Thanks be to Eru that my son was spared!/ (Blessings upon the Star-lady!)
Rubbing his hand over eyes burning with unshed tears, Elrond moved to the archway leading onto the balcony off of his sitting room. He had always preferred the view it afforded over the one from the balcony off his bedchambers, though that one was the more private. Tonight, he was blind to the beauty of his valley.
Leaning heavily against the doorframe, he began to unfasten the clasps holding his formal robes in place. Tossing the heavy garment onto a nearby chair, he stared out across the gardens to the river beyond with unseeing eyes. A welcomed breeze drifted through the trees, cooling the lingering heat in the stones of the balcony floor.
A faint noise from the adjacent balcony penetrated the fog of emotions clouding his mind. /What was that?/
Moving toward the balustrade separating the two spaces, he peered into the dark trying to see what had caused the sound. /There it is again. Someone is crying. Seere./
Torn by the elleth’s obvious pain, he called out her name in a low, gentle voice. Getting no response, he tried again, yet still received no answer.
Reacting from a combination of his own pain and the need to comfort the elleth who was rapidly capturing his heart, he swung his right leg over the railing and pivoted his body to follow. Dropping quietly to the deck, he slowly moved in the direction of the sounds of her grief.
“Seere? Tis I, Elrond. Seere?”
Her head lifted from the pillows piled on an ornate chaise lounge that dominated the space of the balcony. Her face had been ravaged by her grief and a steady stream of tears left trails that glowed silver in the moonlight along each cheek. “My lord?”
Caught in the moment, Elrond moved to her side and pulled her unresisting form up into his arms. Seere buried her face against his chest as she clutched him to her body. A fresh storm of tears hit, leaving her shaking with the force of her pain.
Without conscious thought, Elrond lower them both to the chaise and settled himself into the pillows. Lifting her into his lap, he nestled her firmly against his chest. Lowering his head, he hid his face in the curtain of her hair and let his own tears fall. Awareness of anything other than their shared pain and the comfort found in the other’s arms was forgotten.
Neither noticed the soothing flow of healing energy that flared to life between them, forging another link connecting their fëar. The bond that formed was tentative, yet held the potential of great power. They heard, but did not yet understand the song that whispered to their hearts. Both were oblivious to the fact that their lives had just changed forever.
*****
Glorfindel lost track of the passage of time as he sat upon the rock lost in his grief, but the warm, strong hand that settled upon his right shoulder gradually pulled him back to awareness. Looking up, he found himself gazing at the profile of a fellow warrior. No words were spoken as both knew he could offer nothing to comfort him… save his company.
Sighing, Glorfindel turned his eyes back to the flow of the river. /No, Haldir you are too wise to think there is anything you can say to take away this pain, but your company is a blessed consolation./ Subtly, he shifted to his left making room for the Lorien elf to join him on the rock.
Haldir sat down beside him, dropping his hand in the process. Pulling his legs to his chest, he wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his head against his raised legs. After a few minutes, he lifted his eyes to study the Balrog Slayer. Sky blue eyes met dark blue eyes to exchange a silent message of unconditional support before he returned his gaze to the rushing waters before them.
A sad pair of blue eyes watched from the nearby woods; watched and knew a chance, an opportunity had been lost. Confused by this feeling and blinded by tears, their owner turned and disappeared into the silent forest.
*****
The long night passed and the family of Imladris watched as the rays of Anor filtered through the trees on the eastern slope of the valley. The pain of the coming day would have to be faced, but the hours of the night had provided their comfort. Hope had not been lost, merely dealt a harsh blow.
*****