Feud

Feud
www.feud.shadowess.com
By erobey, robey61@yahoo.com
Beta'd by Sarah AK

Disclaimer: The recognised characters and settings used his his fiction were created by JRR Tolkien. The words, other characters, and ideas here surrounding them belong to erobey alone. No infringement is intended or monies earned through this work.

Summary: Erestor faces the Woodland King.

A/N: Not much is written in Tolkien's published works regarding Erestor's origins. Please allow the liberties taken here by recalling that this is a fanfic, and an AU one at that. There is no indication that Erestor was ever at Gondolin, or any translation given for his name that I have run across. I completely contrived the meaning from the following words: Erui=alone (Er), estë=rest (est), oré=inner heart (or), reasoning that a distraught and rather dramatic young elf might do the same under the unbearable grief and guilt I have mired him in!

Chapter 57: Amarth od Erestor [Erestor's Fate]
Part Two

The seneschal stared into his goblet, watching the liquid swirl, casting violet hued flashes upon his features from lamplight reflecting on the fluid's surface as he twisted the stem between his fingers. Over the course of his journey he had taken careful thought as to what he would say to the Wood Elves' King, but that was before he knew Pen-rhovan was safe if not sound. It had been easy to know the right thing to do, for he wished to retrieve the distraught archer and bring him out of the Greenwood to be healed by the golden magic of Lorien. He had been positive he would be able to convince the Sinda Lord that it would serve everyone's interests to lift the part of the Judgement preventing Legolas from seeking refuge among the other elven Realms.

Now the situation was not so simple, for the wild elf was among his own and apparently being cared for somewhere within this very mountain fortress. What right had Erestor to make any claim that Lorien would suit better, even if he felt it to be true? Such a statement would no doubt be taken as an insult upon the Greenwood and its King.

Further, he was now on less firm moral ground concerning his disregard of Elrond's trust in him and his duty to Imladris. With Legolas no longer endangered, how could he justify betraying his countrymen and revealing the plots of his Lord, however much he may disapprove of the actions? Erestor was equally to blame, afterall, and it seemed dishonourable to indict the son of Eärendil when he was not present to defend his actions.

{Dishonourable! A fitting word to describe my deeds to date! Whence comes this newfound devotion to noble sacrifice?}, the seneschal brooded. But he already knew; it had arisen at the rebuke of Aiwendil and the recollection of the fall of Gondolin.

For centuries uncounted Erestor had borne the chafing sting of these memories and felt the thorn of bitter anger against his father pressed deep within his hidden heart. Then a youthful Noldo warrior barely past his majority, he had been ordered to leave Damand's [Long Hammer: Erestor's father] side and safeguard the retreat of Tuor and Idril along with their child and as many of the innocents as could be salvaged from the ravaging of Morgoth's fire drakes and Balrogs. As the second born child, it was not Erestor's right to claim a place by Damand and fight for the King; to his elder sister was that privilege awarded. The last he had seen of them the entire palace of Turgon had been ened ied in flame, and only his sworn word given as the last token of respect he could make to his sire allowed Erestor to turn and leave them there to burn.

That, and absolute terror.

{Valour did not serve me then, and to my kin it rendered death as a reward for their adherence to its demanding creed!} he reflected, and recalled that from that time forward he had considered the term substantially inadequate considering the price paid for possessing the quality. On that day had he made the name Erestor [Alone Rests the Inner Heart], and he wondered now if any other than himself remembered that he had once been Sigiland [Long Knife].

As his long life continued he had seen so many immortal souls offered upon the altar of this elusive concept that it sickened him, and never was Arda made a better place for the loss of these elves. In fact, the cause of honour robbed the First Born of their greatest and wisest time and again, while this relentless entropy fed the twisted purpose of the Dark Lord.

Yet, Erestor had already begun his re-evaluation of this virtue's worth before setting forth with Aiwendil, and had come to accept a new definition of honour within the character of the Tawarwaith. Somehow, Legolas had managed to reverse the usual process, dredging up courage and fortitude out of disgrace and degradation, wringing greater power from his low caste than he had ever exercised as the Greenwood's prince, choosing to redefine himself in terms of the lands that cherished him rather than the elves who disowned him. Legolad nod no intention of relinquishing his life to retain his honour, for that had been stripped from him. Rather, the former prince lived honourably in order to achieve a very personal victory against the Shadow threatening his homeland.

This stood in stark contrast to the esteemed Lord of Imladris, who had done just the opposite: using his influence, prestige, and exemplary reputation to achieve the destruction of an unsuspecting innocent and score a low blow against the Sinda King.

Erestor felt his bile rise, disgusted with himself for being party to it all, willingly, while acknowledging that he, too, had been used. He was really quite angry with Elrond Peredhel, and suddenly it did not seem so traitorous to betray his machinations.

As his silent ruminations stretched into minutes with no indication that he would reply to Thranduil, the two Istari shared concerned gazes and Aragorn loudly cleared his throat to try and get his mentor's attention. The seneschal raised his eyes from the shimmering wine and regarded each individual with calm detachment he did not truly feel in his heart. He exhaled audibly and set the goblet down upon the table as he rose and faced the King.

"Forgive my reticence, Lord Thranduil!" he began, "it is not always easy to look upon one's own failings without seeking a means to cover them over or assign them elsewhere!

"I would simply say that you have been deeply wronged and the Lord of my lands has attempted a blatant espionage to gain knowledge of your fortress. Elrond hoped to use Legolas as a source for this information, but I am pleased to report the venture was unsuccessful."

Thranduil gave a rude snort at this pronouncement, but Erestor ignored it and continued.

"As for myself, I wish I could claim no association with the plot, but to do so would be a lie. I fiedfiedfied to have to admit to you my full complicity, even in the damage wrought upon the Tawarwaith…"

The seneschal's speech was interrupted by the abrupt rise of Thranduil, livid in outrage, an impatient gesture of his hand underscoring his wrath.

"Enough! None of that is news to me, Noldo spy! You stand here and mouth these half-truths, thinking I am too dull to comprehend thel del design behind this undertaking?

"I will have your full confession: Imladris seeks to provoke an uprising among my lands using this, this forest champion to rally my people against their King! Admit your Lord's avarice, Erestor! He seeks control of the Greenwood through manipulation of that depraved bastard he got with my former Queen!"

All eyes stared in disbelief at Thranduil as this shouted accusation reverberated within the confines of the small study. Tan frn frowned, confused, for he had been under the impression his Lord now believed the outcast was truly his offspring. Likewise, Mithrandir found the outburst suspicious for according to Fearfaron Thranduil accepted his paternity. Aragorn and Radagast, while in the dark on that notion, nonetheless found the crude recrimination reprehensible.

Erestor winced at the reference to the likely parentage of the wild archer, for he still believed this himself and his guilt assailed him mercilessly. He had suspected this from the start, and had done nothing to stop Elrond from the sexual debasement of the feral warrior. Indeed, he had aided his Lord and done the same himself, playing the fallen elf's exhaustion and loneliness against him to take what he desired.

But ruling the Woodland Realm had never been a part of their scheme.

"I assure you, Thranduil, Elrond has no intention of extending his boundaries across the mountains!" chided Mithrandir.

"You wish to assure me?" scoffed Thranduil and directed a venomous glare upon the wizard. "Perhaps you are not in possession of all the facts just yet, Mithrandir! And how quickly you have forgo you your bond to my lands and Realm!"

So speaking the King bent to unlock a drawer in the desk and rummaged about a moment before drawing forth a small rolled parchment. This he brandished in the air and then slapped it down on the table right in front of Erestor.

"Pick it up; tell me whose hand wrote that letter! Read it aloud to your colleagues!" he said with vindictive glee. "For let me be the one to offer assurances to all of you, those words will be made known to every elven Realm upon Arda!"

Thranduil sat again to enjoy the expression of horror that quickly began to cloud the seneschal's eyes, as Mithrandir rubbed his hand across his brow and Radagast got up to see for himself what the Sinda Lord had produced. Aragorn sought to rise also, and hurriedly Gandalf grabbed his arm to stop him, but this only fuelled the human's curiosity more and he pulled away to take a place on Erestor's left. Before the Man had done more than acknowledge the hand of his foster-father, a groan left the advisor's throat and he dropped back upon his seat in disbelief.

Without thinking, Erestor let Radagast take the scroll from his hand, and the Brown wizard opened it out as Aragorn crowded forward to peruse the document with him.

An inarticulate cry, a mixed outpouring of disgust and anguish fled the mortals' lips and he forcibly grabbed the paper from the Istar's fingers, shaking his head in futile denial. Soon his entire frame was racked with quaking as revulsion and dismay ran through his body in rippling contractions against the poison introduced by this unforeseen glimpse into the dark black pit that occupied the place where Elrond's heart belonged. With a sob he regained his chair, cast away the vile evidence, and covered his face in his hands.

"Ah, Valar!" he whispered as he wept, "Ada!"

"Please," the seneschal's voice was barely audible. "Tell me that Legolas has not read this!"

Thranduil was astounded at the reactions his revelation of Elrond's baseness produced. His aim had indeed been Erestor, but never would he have imagined the Noldo's first response would be to inquire after the disinherited prince.

And the human was so overwrought that the King wondered if mortals could succumb to grief, feä rending from hroa to flee the obvious agony Elrond's foul descriptions had generated in the Man. As he watched, Mithrandir sought to comfort the mortal son of the mighty Elf Lord, but Aragorn refused to be consoled.

"Nay, the time has not proved propitious to inform him of his lover's true feelings concerning his worth!" replied the King at length, "but, I am sure that will change in the near future."

Erestor's relief was thus tempered with dread as he regarded Thranduil with repudiation.

"It serves no purpose to make him learn this!" intoned Aiwendil angrily. "Why punish him, for he is the one Elrond has sought to injure! Are you so eager to join the Noldo Lord's disgrace?"

"I am in no danger of that!" hissed Thranduil. "The sovereignty of my Realm has been compromised and the outcast made that possible! He put himself in this position! What are your thoughts, Mithrandir? Do you think Elrond should be spared his just condemnation in order to protect your bond-mate?"

The King's mocking tone drew Aragorn's sorrow-bowed head up and sent Erestor to his feet, backing quickly towards the sealed doorway as both Olorín and Aiwendil stood and filled the room with their majestic presence. Even Talagan receded from his usual spot at the King's shoulder in fear of the insulted Maiar.

"Be careful, son of Oropher!" growled Radagast and banged his staff upon the stone floor with a clash that shook the room, "for if your words are true you must prepare to welcome the ire of the Ainur!"

"You have exceeded the boundary of your status!" Olorín added. "Perhaps a new leader for the Greenwood is not an outrageous concept."

In spite of his distress, Aragorn admired the Sinda's mettle, for he rose and faced the challenge boldly, daring the wizards to act against him, though a brief tremor ran through his arms as he pressed his palms upon the surface of the desk.

"You would defy the Valar you serve to interfere in what should to you be a paltry concern?" he said derisively. "Somehow I do not think so! I wonder if the Powers would sanction your bullying and threats against the rightful ruler of the Woodland Realm? I seem to recall you are sworn against such interference!

"What I may choose to do with this written testimony to Elrond's treachery is my own concern and no other's! How I deal with that degenerate perversion brought forth by Ningloriel is not for you to decide, Mithrandir, even if you have linked your essence with his! Rather than raising his esteem in my eyes, your entanglement has only served to debase the respect you formerly enjoyed!

"Both of them will be exposed; let the free peoples understand the deceits the noble house of Eärendil has committed!"

"Nay!" A horrendous cry issued from Aragorn's lungs and he leaped up, his red-rimmed eyes awash in tears now gleaming with unchecked fury as he snatched up the discarded parchment and leaned over the teak-scented wood of the forest Lord's desk.

"I am not foresworn!" He brandished the scroll a moment and then with defiant determination he ripped it in two and then in twain again, never letting his gaze falter from Thranduil's.

"Echil úmaer gwaur! Coth firin! [Unfit, dirty human! Mortal enemy!]" thundered Talagan at this brazen disrespect from the Man and his sword sang as he unsheathed its length and lunged forward.

Aragorn let the remains of the paper flutter from his hands as he spun to meet the challenge, kicking his chair into the captain's path and drawing forth his broadsword to counter the warrior's advance. The collision of the blades unleashed a disharmonious, unholy screech of metallic friction as the pealing toll of combat rang through the room.

"Baw! Far! [Do not! Enough!]" shouted Thranduil. "Daro, Talagan!" He side-stepped to dodge his captain's sword as it swept an arc through the air scant millimetres before his face and landed with a resounding crack upon the previously pristine polish of the finely crafted table.

As the soldier realised his error his attention diverted momentarily to his King and only elven reflexes saved him from a grievous wound to his side as Aragorn pressed forward.

The mortal let his fury fuel his muscles, knowing full well he could not win against this seasoned veteran yet compelled to continue, venting his anger and hurt upon the Sinda. He parried a powerful blow that sent him reeling back and stumbled, catching himself on the arm of a chair as he vaguely registered Erestor jumping out of the way of the spilling flames of an oil lamp shattered upon the rock hewn floor.

"Estel, this is madness!" shouted the seneschal as he tore off his tunic and used it to stifle the burning puddle. "Stop before we are all killed!"

Yet neither fighter heeded the orders and the confined space lent their duel no leeway for caution regarding the other occupants. The furniture was brutally abused as first Erestor and then Aiwendil were forced to use the elegant seating to fend off the sweep of the human's blade as he forced the captain back toward the hearth.

The next instant both warriors cried out in pain and threw their weapons down upon the stone, holding their hands away from them and staring upon their scalded, blistering palms. On the floor, lying amid the discarded scraps of paper, the blades were aglow as though newly pulled from the fires of forging. Then in a bright flare of yellow flame the fragments of Elrond's corrosive correspondence ignited, disintegrating into a plume of smoky ash.

All eyes turned to Gandalf.

"There now, perhaps we can all manage to be a bit more reasonable and polite," he said dryly. The Istar bent to right his dislodged armchair, pushing the horsehair stuffing back down where it was protruding from the deep slice Talagan's sword had bitten through the soft, supple leather. He sat down with casual nonchalance, as though nothing untoward had taken place.

Breathing hard under the exertion of the conflict and the searing of his hands, Aragorn could not help but break into a triumphant grin and a jovial chuckle. He leaned over and clapped the wizard soundly on the shoulder despite the burning sting across his fingers. He removed the broken-legged remains of his chair to the corner where the firewood was stacked, dragging another to take its place.

"Well done!" he said to Gandalf, retrieving his cooling sword gingerly from the floor. He met Talagan's eyes as the elf also bent to reclaim his weapon, and the two froze a second. "And to you as well!" the Man stated with a grim smile.

"Aye, worthy is your skill, for a Man!" the captain graciously conceded. He refrained from meeting Thranduil's furious glare as he sheathed his sword and returned to the corner at his Lord's back.

With relieved sighs and a scraping of wood upon rock, Radagast and Erestor also calmed down and resumed their seats before the King's deeply scarred desk.

Only Thranduil kept to his feet, for he was anything but amused by this outburst and the manner in which it ceased. The situation had quickly escalated beyond his control and this he found unacceptable. The human had defied him, Talagan had ruined his study and nearly beheaded him, and the wizard had destroyed the tangible proof of Elrond's perfidious actions. His gaze fell upon Erestor and the light of triumph returned to his countenance.

{The seneschal shall bear witness against his Lord! By his own admission, he was party to all that transpired between Elrond and the outcast!}

"Indeed, Mithrandir, your words are wise even if your actions are without precedent! All of this must be brought to light, but in an acceptable manner and within the proper forum!

"In two days time my Council is set to convene regarding the events of Erebor. As I have said, I believe the cause for the tragedies that day involves certain parties interested in creating havoc within my Realm.

"By his own hand, Elrond incriminated himself! Despite your attempts to eliminate this evidence, wizard, too many have already beheld it to deny its existence! And even were that not so, here is Erestor, acclaimed advisor and life-long colleague of Gil-Galad's Herald, who has already confirmed the truth of my claims!

"I shall of course require your candid repetition of these facts to my Counsellors, Erestor!"

The dismayed glances the four friends shared restored the King's good humour; his hand was once more firmly wrapped around the throat of Elrond's reputation, ready to throttle the vital gleam from the Noldo's elevated esteem.

"Well, that is an unusual demonstration of reasonable and polite behaviour!" mumbled Aragorn sardonically as he scowled up at the King.

"Indeed, you speak truthfully, for rather than consign you to my dungeons and the torments of the eternal darkness there, I am graciously offering you both the opportunity to explain your homeland's invasive, covert activities upon mine!" snapped Thranduil.

Abruptly his discourse stopped as his whole frame tensed, his eyes flashing as his countenance blanched and then flooded with colour. He fairly leaped over the table and, unbolting the door, threw it back upon its hinges and raced from the study.

Meril had not the ability to far-speak, nor did she require the gift to call her mate to her side. Thranduil had keenly felt her alarmed distress for their newborn and drew his dagger as he took the stairs in threes and fours to reach his infant son.

Tbc