Scarred Fate

CHAPTER 25: Tress

CHAPTER NOTES

SCRIPTS:

'Thoughts'; ~visions~; **mind speech**; -l-Letters-l-

Elrond sat between Glorfindel's legs, his body resting against the chest of his lover, relishing in the comfort that the blond's embrace gave him.

Together they stared in the flames dancing hypnotically into the night. Glorfindel's hands stroked ever so gently over Elrond's upper arms, his lover's left hand resting on his leg, while both pursued their own thoughts.

The captain had arranged for guards as he had done the previous nights, his men had erected a campfire for the first time since their departure from Imladris and everyone had enjoyed a hot meal and some tea. They were now only half a day's march away from the Old Ford and the possibility of being attacked was far less tangible than in the mountains.

Still the soldiers were worried. They knew that Erestor, who had saved their loved ones in Imladris, their lord and probably many of their comrades by preventing a fight with those humans, would die if they came too late.

And they wondered if they would be allowed to enter the dark forest, for the relationship between the two realms was still somewhat strained. The lord of Imladris seeking entrance and accusing one of Thranduil's trusted advisors of kidnapping and attempted murder of the ruling family of the Hidden Valley would certainly not contribute to an improvement of that relationship.

But at least they knew where to search for Erestor.

Seldom had Elrond been this relieved as when Galadriel had contacted him again, telling him the name of his chief advisor's uncle.

Brandon. Centuries ago he had heard of his sudden and fast advancement within the ranks of king Thranduil's advisors. Now he knew that Erestor had paid the price. In retrospect he should have known; the moment that he read in Erestor's fine writing that he was a seer he should have known. But he had not.

But then again, it did not matter anymore as they were about to cross this depraved elf's plans. Only time and Thranduil stood in their way now; the proud king would not be pleased to hear accusations against one of his eldest advisors and maybe he would – unknowingly and unintentionally – hinder them to save Erestor.

"I love you." Glorfindel said, kissing Elrond's brown, satin-like hair, waking the brunet from his wandering thoughts.

The lord of Imladris looked upwards, nearly wrenching his neck in doing so, and smiled. "And I love you, Fin."

Glorfindel grinned. "I wish you would stop calling me 'tress'. It just sounds so ... stupid."

Elrond chuckled and then whispered for his lover's ears only "but 'Glorfindel' is just not a name made to cry out in passion. Three syllables ... it's just too long ... Laurinque"

"That has three syllables, too. Besides: Quenya, Elrond? That is unusual."

"But I like the sound of it ... laure ... isn't that better than côl?"

"Whatever name you want to cry out for me in passion, love, I do not care ... as long as it stays in our bedroom." Glorfindel murmured in a husky voice.

Elrond laughed. Again both Elves fell into a comfortable silence while the soldiers around them unrolled their sleeping mats.

CHAPTER END NOTES

Elrondion ~ son of Elrond

ellon ~ male elf

fin ~ tress

laurinque ~ golden one (Quenya)

laure ~ gold (Quenya)

côl ~ gold