Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves

Title: Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Author: Lynsey
Websites: http://lynsey-schadegg.livejournal.com/ and http://lotr.adult-fanfiction.org/authors.php?no=1296789875 .
Mailing List: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Fiction_by_Lynsey/
Beta: None
Chapter: 6/?
Pairings: Erestor/Glorfindel
Rating: NC-17 overall, PG-13 this chapter
Warnings: AU, hermaphrodite
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Do not sue, all I got are college loans, and this isn’t helping to pay them off.
Summary: Glorfindel, newly returned to Middle Earth, catches a ride to Imladris with a band of gypsies.
A/N: Ellian=hermaphrodite. Ama = the elven word for a hermaphrodite parent.


Screams and pounding of horse hooves rang through the night air as Glorfindel and Erestor ran toward the sounds of battle. The ruckus seemed to be coming from an area far from the clearing, and the warrior breathed in relief that the sleeping gypsy camp was safe for the moment.

They stopped while they were still hid within the forest, not willing to give away their positions just yet. He guided the young elf into a small gathering of trees, ducking him down so he was hidden deep within the shadows.

“Whatever you do, don’t make a noise. Don’t come out until I call for you.”

Eyes wide with fear, Erestor nodded. “Please come back for me.” Please don’t die.

Glorfindel leaned down, and with one hand tangled in silky dark hair, he kissed Erestor with all the promise he could marshal. He pulled away, and moved in the direction of the riot. He glanced back once to make sure his beloved was well hidden before he continued on.

There was a pause within the cover of the trees as Glorfindel assessed the situation. The area was in chaos, and the reason made Glorfindel's lip turn up a feral snarl. Orcs. Dozens of them. Another camp of elves was set up here, and it had obviously been overrun and underprepared to defend itself.

He drew his sword and charged forward, cutting down the foul creatures as he went. The guards that were protecting the party were disorganized and scattered throughout the encampment. The overwhelmed soldiers were doing their best to fight off the repulsive monsters, but they were too few. The cries of the injured and terrified were everywhere. Glorfindel seemed to fly through the camp, his sword a blur of silver and black blood.

The soldiers caught sight of the shining warrior in their midst. The rate at which he destroyed the fell beasts encouraged them, rallying their last vestiges of strength and courage to push out the remaining orcs. Several creatures ran, fleeing into the night.

Shouts echoed throughout the camp as every member was searched for.

Not all of them were found.

"She's missing!" said one of the guards, frantically searching through the camp. "The Lady Celebrían is missing!"

Celebrían. Lord Elrond's wife.

One soldier raised his voice and addressed the remaining members of the party, "We will mobilize the camp and search for our Lady. Half the guards will pursue the demons, the other half will stay to protect the rest of the camp."

Most of the elves were busy packing up what had not been destroyed in the battle, all the while keeping an eye on the warrior that had appeared out of thin air, fought with a skill they had never seen, and glowed with the light of the Valar.

"I will help," Glorfindel stated, wiping black blood from his blade. "I am afraid I have dawdled at my leisure for too long, and now the great family has suffered for it." He was grim as he sheathed the blade at his back.

"I don't believe I understand..." the guard said, puzzled and clearly wanting to get the search underway and not have to humor some stranger.

"I am Glorfindel of Gondolin. I was sent by the Valar to protect the family of Lord Elrond."

The guard gulped and nodded, bowing his head in deference.

Glorfindel turned back toward the area he had hidden Erestor. "I must gather my things. I will return shortly. Have everyone ready before I return and I will lead the rescue expedition."

With that, he bolted into the forest and recovered his beloved. Erestor was frightened and very quiet as they scrambled back to the gypsy camp, and he held on to Glorfindel's hand as tightly as he could with his own little, work roughened hands.

Glorfindel shouted an alarm as they approached awakening everyone in the camp immediately.

Erestor's father spilled out of his wagon, glaring at his son but focusing his attention on Glorfindel.

"Orcs," Glorfindel reported. "A nearby encampment was attacked. Have everyone at the ready in case they come this way." With that, he went to his own sleep pallet by the fire and swiftly packed everything away.

Bellfaer grabbed Erestor and spun him around, shaking him a little. “What were you doing out with that…that tramp at this hour?”

“Father, I…” Erestor watched Glorfindel with worried eyes. He shrugged out of Bellfaer’s grasp, skirting quickly out of his reach and running toward Glorfindel.

"What are you doing?" Erestor breathed, ignoring the warning glare his father leveled at him.

"I have to leave, little one."

Erestor was shocked, grabbing Glorfindel's arm to stall his packing. "What? You...you can't..."

The warrior gently peeled Erestor's hand from his arm and kissed the back, not caring who saw. "I need to leave. I'm so sorry, little bird. I'll come back for you, I promise."

Glorfindel grabbed his small pack of items and his saddle, quickly strapping both to his horse that was pegged not far away.

"No! You can't leave me! Naur, please,” the dark little elf pleaded as he seized Glorfindel in a desperate grip.

Glorfindel watched with sad eyes as Erestor's father came over to collect him. The darkling thrashed in his father's strong hold, crying out for his beloved. The gypsy leader glared silently at Glorfindel, perhaps knowing what he had done to corrupt his beautiful, innocent son.

"Let me go! Naur! Naur please!"

Glorfindel finished saddling his horse and strapping his possessions to its back. He mounted and cast one last, mourning glance at his beloved gypsy. The boy was better without him, he had always known that. Now he had no choice but to leave him...and he decided he would not fulfill his promise to return for him.

He turned his horse and rode to the aid of the Lady Celebrían, who he should have taken responsibility for long before this.

************************

They didn’t find her in time to save her.

Physically, the beautiful Lady healed with the loving care of her husband, Lord Elrond. However, she started wasting away, unable to recover from the maiming of her soul. Glorfindel had gone right to work, strengthening the Imladris defenses, but he felt it was too little, too late.

The family was grateful for everything he had done, and the twin sons of Elrond were eager to begin tutelage under the ancient and renowned warrior. The young Lady Arwen was gracious toward the new leader of the Imladris soldiers, and took over the duties as the Lady of the territory. None of the family members blamed Glorfindel for Celebrían’s illness of heart, which only made the warrior feel guiltier.

He was the one to personally escort the family to the docks. The Lady was sailing, a last effort to save her. The tearful goodbye from her family was barely acknowledged. The beautiful, frail creature touched their faces distractedly. She seemed trapped within her own inner horror, unable to sleep, unable to awaken.

It was five relatively quiet years later that the gypsy band came to Imladris.

*************************

Glorfindel watched from the balcony as the gypsy encampment set up in the courtyard below. The wagons and people were familiar from the time he had spent with them. They were preparing for the small carnival they staged to earn money. Bright, multi-colored tents were being raised and the sounds of music could be heard on the wind.

He turned away from the scene and sighed, leaning back against the railing. The memory of the young gypsy that had stolen his heart haunted him every day, every moment. Erestor must be happier now. Maybe he had found someone to love him, someone who would not fail him.

“Will you be joining us for the festivities?” Lord Elrond asked as he joined the Seneschal on the balcony. “It looks to be very interesting.”

“I believe I will retire. I am exhausted and do not wish to be tired on the morrow.”

“Ah, come now my friend,” Elrond said, placing his hand on Glorfindel’s arm. “Join me. I believe that a walk through the carnival would do you some good.”

Glorfindel shook his head and smiled. “I don’t know, my Lord.” He did not want to be recognized by the gypsies. By now, he was sure that his and Erestor’s illicit affair was common knowledge. He couldn’t imagine the ruckus that showing his face among the gypsy camp would cause.

“I’m making it an order,” the Lord said. “Be ready to go down in an hour.”

************************

Glorfindel kept his head down as they meandered through the stalls, looking at the beautiful, hand-crafted wares the gypsy camp was selling.

So far, he had avoided being recognized and he hoped to keep it that way. That was, until a small bundle of energy ran smack into this legs as a group of children stampeded by.

“Oof!” the little child landed on his backside, looking dazed. Glorfindel leaned down to make sure the elfling hadn’t hurt himself. He was surprised to see the child had bright, golden hair in contrast to the dark haired gypsies. The only color variation he had seen in the camp was the occasional red-head amongst the sea of black. He did not recognize the elfling as being the offspring of anyone in Imladris, so he had to belong to one of the gypsy’s.

Big, dark eyes stared up at the tall warrior, seeming larger than life to the elfling even as he knelt down.

“Are you alright, little bird?”

“Naurferedir?”

Glorfindel slowly looked up with severe trepidation.

Erestor stood not far away, as perfect and beautiful as the last time he saw the little gypsy. His breath caught as his heart did something painful within his chest.

The tiny child before him smiled and climbed nimbly to his feet. “Ama!!” he exclaimed, running over to hide himself within the gypsy’s skirts. He peeked out through the folds of the fabric at the still kneeling warrior, giggling.

Glorfindel stood slowly, carefully. Nothing else existed but the dark beauty in front of him. The dark eyes he loved so much were wide with many emotions: astonishment, grief, and anger were the foremost.

“You…you didn’t come back,” were the meek, whispered words. “You promised.”

“Ama?” the little child pulled at Erestor’s skirts to gain his attention. “Can I go play?”

“Yes, baby,” Erestor said distractedly, stroking the child’s hair. The elfling whooped and ran off to join the other children again.

Glorfindel watched the tiny, golden child ran off. His gut clenched and he started shaking. “Is…is he…?”

“He’s yours.”

TBC…