The Music in My Heart

Title: The Music in My Heart, Chapter 45
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); Slash and het.
Feedback: This is my first fanfic, so constructive feedback appreciated.
Archive: AFF.net; fanfiction.net
Acknowledgements: Many thanks to Alex Cat for her help in betaing this fic.
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 45 --- I Fear No Danger

“When I hear music, I fear no danger. I am invulnerable. I see no foe.
I am related to the earliest times, and to the latest.”
Henry David Thoreau

*****

Nodding his head, Elrond pulled her trembling form tight against his chest. Her muffled voice whispered, “How is this possible?”

He had no answers to offer. “I do not know how they are connected, only that they appear to be. At least, we now have something to study that may yet aid both our trapped fëar and answer the question of where your Naneth has gone.” (mother)

Lifting her chin, he held her gaze for a few moments before adding, “It will not be easy and may well be a painful path for all of us to take before we find our answers. Can you do this, meleth-nîn?” (my love)

When she did not answer, Elrond repeated his question. “Can you do this, Seere?

Moving closer, she tucked her head into the curve of his neck before she answered. “Aye, I can. It is a comfort to know we will face this together, melme. I do wonder how the rest of our family, nay the rest of the Eldar, will deal with this. The Dead Marshes have haunted us all for so long.” (love)

“Tis a valid concern, pen vuil. Perhaps we should consider possible solutions to our puzzle first before we involve others. What say you to that?” Elrond asked. (my heart)

“Maybe. But what if they see something we cannot? That has often been the case when we talk about our visions with our family. I tend to support sharing our thoughts with them… trying to keep it contained to our small group for now. Does that make sense, ind nin?” Seere asked. “I do worry this information this will only make Ada’s grief more acute.” (my heart)

Sighing, Elrond bent his head to rest it on the top of Seere’s. “I would hate that as well, but he has the right to be told. Your father is as dear to me as a brother and I would not cause him pain if it could be avoided, but he will know if we do not include him with the others. He also possesses a brilliant, analytical mind that will add much to the discussion.”

“There is also Haldir to consider. You may not know this, but his Adar was one of the Lorien elves we lost at Dagorlad. His fëa is trapped in the marsh with the rest. We have talked on several occasions since his return of his pain at finding his naneth in Mandos… still waiting for the return of her husband. She faded soon after her husband’s death. Haldir was unable to convince her to return with him. This topic will grieve him greatly.”

“Legolas’ Adar’ra is also trapped in the marsh. His father never forgave Ereinion… or me for his death, though Oropher’s own miscalculation contributed much to the loss of many of Greenwood’s forces. Azeriel’s family both lost relatives at Dagorlad too… I believe two brothers of Azeriel’s Naneth.” Elrond sighed. “There will be many that will be affected by this news, but our theory must be considered if we are to have any hope of finding a possible solution.” (Grandfather)

She leaned more heavily against Elrond, her arms twining around his waist, and whispered, “This theory does answer one of the questions my father and I have been asking about my Naneth’s fate. We both asked Haldir if he had word of her spirit arriving at the Halls of Waiting before he departed Mandos… he had not. Nor that of her guard. If they are indeed trapped in some similar fashion to the fëar in the Dead Marshes…”

A strangled gasp from the doorway caused them to swivel around to seek the source. To their immense dismay, Celeborn was holding up a visibly shaking Erestor. “Laurea?”

*****

Seere and Elrond jumped to their feet and rushed to aid Celeborn in supporting the stunned elf to the nearest chair. “Ada! Please Ada… listen to me. This is but a theory… one we had not planned to share until we were more certain of our facts. We do not know anything that can be counted as fact, Ada.”

Getting no reaction to her pleas, Seere wrapped her arms around the trembling elf and began to sing a song of comfort she had learned as an elfling. It had been her way of reaching him when his grief became too great. As in years past, strong arms reached out to pull his daughter into his arms.

The warmth of her comforting embrace and the gentle beauty of her song slowly penetrated the fog of his grief, reminding him of her loving presence in his life. Cleansing tears began to course down his pale cheeks as he became aware of the supporting hands clasping his shoulders --- Celeborn and Elrond.

/I am not alone in this. My daughter is here and still needs me. I have family and friends. If they are right, Laurea will need me too. We must discover the truth. If she is trapped so, I will find a way to free her to return to me or to go on to Mandos. I will never leave her to suffer such torment./

Calmed by the thought of his renewed mission, he looked up into worried silver eyes and demanded, “Tell me all. We will find a way to free them, if the Valar will it.”

A stunned look overtook Elrond’s face, a look seen by Erestor alone. “What is it, Elrond?”

*****

The council meeting had been urgently arranged. Legolas, Haldir, Lindir, Azeriel, and Gimli had also been requested to attend. The pale, grim-faced expression on Erestor and his daughter’s features intensified the tense atmosphere in the room.

Seeing this, Elrond began the meeting without delay. “I apologize for my abrupt departure this morning and this hastily called meeting, but there is a rather important development and we thought you needed to be told as soon as possible. This news could well affect the course of our mission for the Valar.”

For a moment, he let his eyes make contact with Haldir, Legolas, and Azeriel. “Before I begin, this news will likely affect the three of you deeply… as it has Erestor and Seere. I apologize too for the need to do this.”

Seeing their nods of understanding, he continued. “When Elrohir asked the question were we going to discuss the dreams Seere and I had last night, my first reaction was to deny the need. After all, what could our current situation have to do with the ancient tragedy of Dagorlad. What indeed?”

“As I began to answer, one of the images from my dream resurfaced… clear and vivid in my mind. It reminded me of words Seere had used to describe her vision of her Naneth --- floating in a green mist, the feeling of anger, hurt and fear associated with the image, the eerie light. Those are all things I would use to describe the bodies trapped in the marsh.”

Feeling shock building around the table, he went on. “I asked Seere to recount her dream to me without telling her of my observation. When she finished, I asked her to concentrate on one of the images from the marsh, but to describe her overall impressions… not the features of the individual she saw. Her reply was ‘Naneth!’”

Drawing a deep breath to steady his nerves, he nodded toward his toward friends. “Erestor and Celeborn overheard us talking and joined our discussion. Erestor made the statement that if the Valar will it, we will finally find a way to free them. In that moment, I understood. Part of the mission the Valar has given us is ‘a task of mercy long delayed’. I was told I would know what they wanted us to do when the time came for me to know it.”

“This morning, I saw clearly this task --- we are to find a way to free those trapped in the Dead Marshes and let their fëar complete their journeys. It may also lead us, may the Valar will it, to determine the faith of the Lady Laurea and her guards.”

*****

Haldir was the one to finally break the silence. With the news Elrond had finally identified their mission, the ring of command and renewed self-confidence once again rang clearly in his voice. “If the Valar have indeed given us this task, it would be the greatest privilege they could grant us. How are we to do this, my lord?”

Smiling a bit ruefully, Elrond replied, “I cannot yet say, though I feel I should be able to answer… as if the answer has already been given us and I cannot yet see it.”

“Perhaps, it would help, Ada, is you and Seere would recount your dreams for us,” Elladan suggested.

Nodding, Elrond looked at Seere for a moment, then said, “I propose I recount my dream as Seere’s is very much the same. Melme, please feel free to interject any observations you might have had that were different or where you think a point or detail I missed is significant.” (love)

Taking a deep breath, he began. “The dream always starts in the middle of the afternoon as the extent of the carnage was becoming clear to us all. The bodies were everywhere… some already dead… others with fatal wounds… others badly wounded and in need of care. The battle was still too fierce for any to stop to tend the wounded… or gather our dead… I have lived with the guilt of that fact for four thousand years!”

His voice broke and he struggled to continue. “If we had stopped… but nay, the toll would have only been worse if we had and the opportunity the day brought to breach the Black Gates would have been squandered, robbing our dead of any honor or purpose in their sacrifice. We had far too many days of futile loss in the years that followed for me to contemplate such a thing.”

“The tide of the battle finally turned and our forces charged after the fleeing enemy through the Black Gate to the base of Orodruin and to Sauron’s fortress. Once they had retreated behind the walls surrounding Barad-Dûr, Gil-Galad and Elendil halted the attack for the day. We thought we had made great progress and that the war would end very soon. Little did we know…” Pausing, Elrond seemed lost in the painful memory. A faint “Years…” slipped from his lips.

Seere reached over and covered his hand with hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. Her touch drew his attention back to his grim-faced audience. “We began to make camp. Had it still been daylight, we would have been standing in the very shadow of Mt. Doom. After seeing to my troops, I went to the healing tents to assist in the treatment of our wounded. I expected great numbers to be lined up needing care, but there were relatively few… those from the last skirmishes as we pursued Sauron’s troops through the Black Gates. There were none from the main battle. Once I had done what I could there, I went in search of Ereinion… the King, thinking he would know why our wounded had not yet arrived for treatment.”

A steady flow of tears began to stream down his cheeks as he relived the heartbreaking moments that followed. In a voice choked with grief, he continued. “I found him standing on the edge of a great, foul marsh… one that had not been there earlier in the day. I had fought on that plain but hours before… had seen… the bodies were still there, but they were covered by the murky water.”

His voice wavered as the full horror of day gripped his mind. “I could hear their cries! We all could. I stepped forward intending to go into the water after them. Ereinion grabbed my arm and pulled me back. We struggled because I did not understand why he was stopping me from going to their aid!”

Staring into Seere’s eyes, they shared the memory of that agonizing moment before he finished his story. “Ereinion had to knock me to the ground to stop me. He had me pinned before I understood what he had been trying to tell me. ‘I will not lose another to this dark enchantment. I have already sent too many to their doom in the battle and many others seeking to rescue our fallen. I will not lose you, too.’” The last had been said in a bare whisper only Seere clearly heard.

“We stood there until dawn… by those cursed waters, staring at the expanding marsh that had taken the place of a broad, flat plain. It stretched for as far as we could see by the light of small fires that burn randomly across the marsh. The whole scene had an eerie… evil glow. The waters were green in places. Lights could be seen under the surface… lights that seemed to clash and spark with rage, anger… pain! A large crowd had formed along the banks… periodically someone had to be restrained from diving into the water to free our comrades… friends… family.”

“The elves could hear the voices calling for aid though the men and dwarves could not… and we wept in grief for we knew… the fëar of the fallen were still trapped under the water. We grieved… but did not know how to help quiet the voices,” he whispered. (spirits)

Looking over at Celeborn, Glorfindel, Erestor, and Lindir, his fellow survivors of the army of the Last Alliance, he saw their tears and felt their grief as clearly as he felt his own. “I still hear them. They haunt me… have haunted me for four thousand years. I have long prayed for their deliverance. If the Valar mean for us to bring their mercy to these, our brothers and sisters, I will do all I can to honor this mission. I would gladly trade my life to free them.”

Unable to contemplate losing him, Seere gave a gasp of pure pain and launched herself into his arms. “N’uma, Elrond! N’una! Do not say such a thing! I will not lose you too! I told you that long ago and I still mean it, meleth-nîn,” she whispered against his ear. (“No, Elrond! No!”) (my love)

Pulling her down into his lap, Elrond buried his face against her neck and let the beat of her heart settle his own… silencing for the moment the voices of the marsh. Sighing, he tightened his grip as he whispered, “Gen melin, Seere.” (I love you, Seere.)

A soft smile lit her features. “Gen annon guren, Elrond… ilyamenie” (I give you my heart, Elrond…always.)

*****

Unsure of how to react to the scene playing out before them, Elladan cleared his throat attempting to catch his Adar’s attention. “Ada, our meeting? The mission of the Valar?”

Hearing the embarrassed tone of his son’s voice, Elrond lifted his head to look at Seere. Deciding a little more shock would not harm anyone, he leaned down to place a lingering kiss on Seere’s lips.

“Trying to send them around the bend, melme?” she whispered, reaching up to wipe the last traces of his tears from his face. (love)

“Umm…” he responded, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers needing the close contact to regain his balance.

“Enough! Seere, return to your seat this moment! Your behavior is most unseemly!” Erestor scolded. “Elrond, I will discuss this with you later.”

Surprised by the sudden reprimand, Seere turned to meet her father’s gaze. Narrowing her eyes to a near duplicate of Erestor’s, she asked, “Discuss what with him, Ada? If you are referring to my relationship with him, it is that MY relationship with HIM. I would...”

“Do not start this with me, Seere. This is the second time today I have seen you sitting in his lap, the two of you wrapped around each other...” he began.

“Erestor, you know my intentions are honor…” Elrond started.

“Nay, not you too! I am not..” Seere interrupted.

“Enough!”

Startled, the three looked around to see Celeborn glaring at them. “Can we stick to our meeting topic for now and let the three of you settle your differences later? We need to focus our attention on determining a means for accomplishing this task as Elrond is sure this is what the Valar meant.”

*****

After an awkward pause, the group returned to the topic of the meeting. They had been talking for some time when Glorfindel became intrigued by the thoughtful, faraway look in Lindir’s eyes. After studying him for several minutes, he took advantage of a lull in the conversation to ask, “What has your thoughts so occupied, Lindir?”

Surprised by the question, Lindir looked up to meet Glorfindel’s eyes. “I have been considering the wording of the Valar’s response to Lord Elrond’s questions… about what this task was to be… what the duty was they wished completed. Is it possible their answer was the answer… the one we are seeking?”

Confused, but intrigued by the question, Elrond asked, “How do you mean, mellon nin?” (my friend)

“It would be easier if you would repeat their response first, my lord”

“If it would help, of course.”

Watching Lindir closely for a clue of his thinking, he repeated, “You will recognize what you must do when the time comes, if you serve the Valar and keep the Song of Eru Ilúvatar always in your heart. Middle-earth is again threatened by darkness, the legacy of Melkor and Sauron’s evil. To aid you in this quest, any elf in Aman that wishes to accompany you will be given leave to do so. Once you have completed your mission, we will allow each elf to decide whether they will stay in Middle-earth or return to Aman.”

Nodding his head, Lindir said, “I thought I was remembering it correctly.”

Locking his eyes with Elrond, the minstrel asked, “Is it possible we do not seek a method, but a song? THE song to be exact.”

*****

Camp of the Last Alliance, Dagorlad Plain, Second Age 3434

“I take it you have never confessed to your mongrel?”

Swinging around, Ereinion scowled at his former lover. “Why do you persist in calling him such a disrespectful name? He carries noble blood of the three lines of the Eldar, the blood of the three original royal houses of the Edain, as well as, the blood of the Maia. He is special… unique among all of Eru’s children. He is no mongrel!”

Oropher gave a bitter laugh. “At least you now know of whom I speak… though your defense of him is no less passionate. That is progress, I suppose. It is almost laughable that you have not yet told him of your feelings in over a thousand years… almost, but not quite.”

Tilting his head to the side, he studied the face that still periodically invaded his dreams. The strain of the heavy burdens of his office had cut deep groves in the ageless beauty of Gil-Galad’s features. For reasons he preferred to ignore, Oropher decided to press his original question. “Why do you wait… or does the great king fear rejection? Does it give you pause that the object of your affection is well known to desire ellith… despite the many rumors of just how he achieved his position… or should I say which position he used to achieve his title?”

Narrowing his eyes coldly, Ereinion studied the elf before him. “Still bitter that I did not return your love, I see. That, too, is rather pathetic after more than a millennia, do you not think?”

A flash of raw pain lit the sage green eyes for a moment before being suppressed. “Do not flatter yourself. I have long since resolved my misguided feelings for you as unresolved grief for my beloved wife. Replacing you in my bed was no effort, I assure you.”

Feeling the desire to fight leave him as quickly as it had come, Ereinion turned away from the golden-haired elf and resumed his study of the distant glow of Orodruin. “What do you want, Oropher? I have too much on my mind this night to waste energy trading insults with you. If you seek an apology for how I behaved, you have it. It is surely long overdue. And, I realized long ago that there was no small amount of truth in what you just said. You were still grieving for her loss. I am sorry that I added to that burden.”

It was several minutes before Oropher moved to stand beside his former lover. “Aye, I was… and you did.”

“I know and I regret that. My apology is sincere.” Ereinion turned his head to meet the other’s gaze, knowing he owed him that show of honest contrition.

Nodding his head, Oropher let his gaze sweep back to the flat expanse of the Dagorlad Plain as it stretched out before them. Changing the subject, he commented, “We risk much on the morrow… but it must be risked. Sauron must be defeated. We must do this.”

“Aye, we must.”

“Why have you never told him? I can clearly see that your love for him has only deepened… and yet you have not sought to claim him. Why?” Oropher asked.

Irritated with his companion’s refusal to let the matter drop, he bit out, “Why do you care? I would think you would enjoy my pain in this matter.”

Sighing, the Silvan shook his head. “Indeed, I might have enjoyed such a sight as recently as a year ago but… I feel that way no longer. While it is true, my feelings for you were bound up in my grief… I did love you. Still do to some degree. I find I no longer want to see you hurt. Elrond is the one you love. If this is so, I would want you together.”

Ereinion again turned his head to meet Oropher’s gaze, searching for signs of dissemination in the pale green eyes and proud face of the Greenwood leader. Satisfied with the truth of the other elf’s words, he answered, his voice low yet clearly marked with pain. “I am afraid. As you say, he has never shown interest in bedding with another ellon.”

Breaking eye contact, Ereinion stared blankly across the flat terrain. “Then too… our history is complicated. I took Elrond and his twin into my care while they were still well under their majority and guided them through those difficult years. I was his mentor and his support when he lost Elros. To try and change that… he may see my feelings as a breach of trust given all that has passed between us. I fear losing him and all that I have. So I count myself lucky to have his friendship and loyalty… and content myself with dreams of what might have been.”

“You are so sure he would reject you?”

A bitter laugh slipped from Ereinion’s throat. “Nay, I am not. Sometimes, I think I see… I have come so close on so many occasions… but my fears always kept me silent.”

Looking over at the Noldor, Oropher felt a sad smile overtake his features. “I never thought to see the day… the great Ereinion Gil-Galad paralyzed by fear that someone he desires might reject him. Tis not a condition that suits you, my king.”

A gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder. “Tell him, Ereinion. Tell him, while there is still time to claim some happiness. None of us… not even the Eldar, know how long we have left to us. Do not let your love go unproclaimed. It is a gift. Do not waste it.”

Ereinion inclined his head as he reached up to cover the other’s hand. “Wise words, mellon nin. I will… try to do just that.” (my friend)

Looking over at the elegant profile of the Silvan elf, a cold dread closed around his heart as he recognized the echo of prophecy in Oropher’s words. He had long been troubled by visions of his own death… a fiery end at Sauron’s own hand. In a moment of clarity unlike any he had ever known, he knew with certainty neither of them would survive the coming war… that Oropher too would be lost. An eerie shadow hovered over the head of his former lover and it chilled him to the bone.

Forcing himself to look away, he resumed his study of the silent, arid plain before them. Both took comfort in the hope that a start had been made to healing the riff between them. In retrospect, there had been real love between them… just not love that united souls. They knew, had times been different and the demands upon them less, they could have moved beyond the pain of their past to build an abiding friendship.

A common thought whispered through the mind of both. /Perhaps in Aman.../

The two stood together long into the night, content to quietly accept the other’s company. In his heart, Ereinion knew the shadow he had seen this night… Dagorlad itself would haunt his fëa long after the coming battle. Inexplicably, he also knew Oropher shared this belief.

*****