Elfpunzel

That next day, the negotiations went very smoothly, and so quickly, that Erestor would have been wary had he not had other thoughts on his mind. Immediately following the signing of the treaties, he hastily went back to his guest quarters to gather up all of the things he had brought with him as well as some provisions that he and Glorfindel would need. These he loaded into the saddlebags of his trusty horse, Asfaloth, and then went to retrieve the rope that Glorfindel had woven. It was very long, and much heavier than Erestor had anticipated. Therefore, he had to leave his weapons stowed in one of the saddlebags as he crept to the tree in the twilight.

“Glorfindel, Glorfindel, let down your hair, that I may climb without a stair!” he said as loud as needed and as quietly as he could. With giddy delight, he watched the golden braid as it spiraled down out of the tree, the end hitting the ground with a thud.

Taking a deep breath, Erestor reached out and took hold of the golden hair. He could sense his lover’s worry and climbed quickly in hopes that he could dispel his sweet Glorfindel’s fears. No candles were lit as he approached, which seemed odd to Erestor, and only made him climb faster. “Glorfindel?” he called out as he reached the window. Out of the shadows stepped... “You!”

“Yes, I could very well say the same to you,” answered Galadriel in a very bored voice. In one hand she held the end of the hewn braid, and in the other she held a dagger that was smeared with blood.

“What have you done with him?” demanded Erestor, trying to get a hold on the tree. He had no weapons to fight her, and had already dropped the rope. Clawing at the tree, he threatened, “If you hurt so much as a single hair on his head... well, figuratively speaking of course...” he realized as he looked at the disconnected braid.

“He has been sent away, and I care not where he goes to live,” she sniffed. “He is a disgrace to me and to the rest of the realm. It was I who protected him from a fate which he did not know,” she announced, sounding rather hurt.

Erestor snorted. “Somehow, I very much doubt your piety.”

“Tis true,” she replied, “for his mother ate the enchanted plants of my garden as he slumbered in her womb. Ancient and sacred plants, Flowers of Fertility. Dear Erestor,” she said mockingly, “do you know what the Flowers of Fertility have done to Glorfindel?”

“Of course I wouldn’t know, I’m not an evil witch with an enchanted garden,” he countered.

Narrowing her eyes at him, Galadriel said, “I shouldn’t even tell you, except that it will cause you greater pain in knowing as you wander aimlessly through the rest of your pitiful existence. The Flowers of Fertility have made him fertile. Able to conceive. Able to carry life. Able to give birth.” With each additional footnote, Erestor’s eyes widened a little more. “He is with child; a child you shall never see, nor shall you ever see him again, either!” With these words, Galadriel let go of the braid, sending Erestor tumbling to the ground.

His fall seemed fatal, for he was speeding toward the ground with his back down. Letting go of the golden braid, Erestor twisted his body and managed to land upon his hands and knees. A cluster of bushes broke his fall, but did not leave him unharmed. The large thorns of the bushes scraped and marred his beautiful skin, and pierced his eyes, instantly blinding him.

“My poor, sweet, dear Glorfindel,” he wept after whistling to his horse, “I have failed you, my love. Be strong until I find you,” he whispered as he felt about for the reigns and pulled himself blindly upon the horse.

Unfortunately, Asfaloth was terrible with direction, and without a rider to lead him, he indeed did wander as the witch said he would. Out of Lothlorien they traveled, and from there into Fangorn Forest, to the Morian Mines, and into the lands of the far East. Hope seemed lost that the lovers would ever again find one another.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“This story sucks!” announced Thranduil, who of everyone, had been listening most intently.

“Did I say it was over?” scolded Erestor. “Did I?”

“Well, it seems like it is, yes,” replied Thranduil, who was looking quite upset about the outcome and was snuggling a large stuffed teddy bear someone had brought into the room. “And still, no pirates. I think he lied about the pirates.”

Erestor shook his head. “Fairytales all begin with ‘Once Upon a Time’ and they all end with-“

“The End?” guessed Glorfindel sleepily.

“Yes, very good,” said Erestor.

“I hate to interrupt,” spoke Zhie, “but you know, Erestor’s blindness and Glorfindel’s cheesecake obsession... those sound really familiar. Like, I read them in a fanfic familiar.”

“The thing about storytelling and fairytales,” explained Erestor, “is that sometimes the storyteller changes the story a little, or adds things from other stories. That’s what keeps the stories new and exciting. Besides, can I help it that I’ve been influenced by other stories on MY list. It is my list, you know, I do read the other stories on it.”

“Well, don’t just leave it there!” complained Dark Dreamer. “Get to the end already.”

“Yes, we need more!” declared Eryn.

Erestor raised his hand to hush the crowd. “I was just getting to it. Now where were we... ah, yes...”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was many long years later that Erestor, growing weary of their travels, came upon a pair of children playing in a river that Asfaloth came to for water. Hearing their shouts of glee, and the language they spoke, Erestor concluded that these were elflings. From what they were saying, he could tell they were pretending to be pirates. He called to them and asked where he was.

“Sir, this is Imladris that you are in,” said the voice of a little girl. “We have come to the border to play; our Nana says we must not wander further.”

“Your nana is wise,” replied Erestor as he dismounted and knelt upon the ground, scooping up the water and rubbing it against his face. “I used to live here,” he told them. “Do you know Lord Elrond?”

“Oh, yes!” declared the little boy. “He is very kind and almost like an Adar to us. He brings us nice things, like toys and clothes, just like he gives to his own sons.”

Erestor smiled. He had hoped that Elrond would find someone to settle with, for the elflord had for some time wished for children. “Would you be able to take me to Lord Elrond, my young friends?” asked Erestor.

“Of course,” said the little girl. “We will need to let our Nana know where we are going, first,” she said. “Come with us! We will show you!”

Erestor had not the heart to tell the young children that he could not see where they were going, and so followed closely by listening to their footsteps and the sound of their voices. Asfaloth curiously followed behind them, grazing here and there as he went.

“Nana lives in a little cottage near the big house,” explained the boy. “Stay here, we will be right back after we tell him.”

“Uhm, alright.” Erestor stood where he was told, wondering at the boy’s slip. But then, his ears picked up a sound he had not heard, and never thought he would again. The sweet song of the birds came through the trees and stopped suddenly as cries of “Nana! Nana! We are going to the big house!” rose up from the house.

Straining to hear the singing again, the fading hope suddenly sparked anew. If indeed the singing he heard was who he thought it was-

“Nana says we can go!” announced the little girl, grabbing hold of one of Erestor’s hands. Her brother had a firm grip on his other hand, but Erestor’s feet were firmly planted. “Well, come on, silly! We won’t get there unless you walk there!”

Just as Erestor began to step forward, he stepped back. The song began again, a song fit for birds, in a clear tenor voice. It was beautiful, but filled with sorrow. His heart leapt and he gasp. He knew the children were confused, and if he was wrong they would be even more confused, but he had to try. He needed to try. “Glorfindel?” he called out hopefully.

The song stopped. Erestor held his breath.

Racing to the door of the little cottage, Glorfindel looked out in disbelief. His mouth was open in shock as he took in the sight of his lover standing in the yard with his children- their children- on either side of him. “Erestor? Erestor!” Running full speed, Glorfindel practically knocked Erestor into the grass, careful to avoid harming the twins. “Erestor, I thought I had lost you- Erestor? What has happened to your eyes?” questioned the blond.

“Oh, dear Glorfindel, to hear your voice again- my sightless state is worth having found you again,” he said, wrapping his arms around the elf who had knocked him to the ground. “Glorfindel, oh, sweetheart, do not cry,” he comforted, holding his lover to him.

“You... you are blind? How? Did she do it to you?” Tears fell from Glorfindel’s eyes, raining down upon Erestor’s face.

“Do not cry, hush, darling, please,” said Erestor in a soothing voice. “A small sacrifice to have you in my arms.” Hands traveled up to rub Glorfindel’s shoulders, and he smiled as his fingers brushed against the wavy golden locks, which now reached midway down Glorfindel’s back. “You are so beautiful, just as I remember,” sighed Erestor as the two curious children looked on.

“But you... how are you to see again?” Glorfindel continued to weep, and as he did, his tears fell into Erestor’s eyes. The magic within him from the plants of the enchanted garden served to heal Erestor’s wounds so that when he blinked and opened his eyes again, he was able to see.

Their joyful reunion was a first meeting of the children and their father as well. Erestor was introduced to young Eredel and Erestiel, whose smiles warmed his heart. Lord Elrond was indeed happy to have his chief advisor and good friend returned to the valley. Most of all, Glorfindel and Erestor were glad to be with each other again, vowing never to part and to always have lots of... cheesecake. LOTS of cheesecake. Tons of it. Every. Single. Night. And they all lived happily ever after. Except for Galadriel, who was stalked by a shifty-eyed dwarf named Rumplegimlinskin. But that is a tale for another day.

The end.

For more stories by this author, all you need to do is Pounce! (http://pounce.dreamelf.com)