The Long Journey Home
folder
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
6,570
Reviews:
25
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
6,570
Reviews:
25
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Quiet Place
Title: The Long Journey Home
Author: silmfan (trueself101@yahoo.com)
Rating: PG so far
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel
Warning: m/m slash
Setting: Near the beginning of the Third Age, before the War of the Ring and when Elrond’s sons are still young elflings. Slightly AU (?)
Disclaimer: Obviously, these Elves do not belong to me.
Notes: There’s no absolute certainty that I will complete this…it looks like it might turn out to be a long series. It depends on how much time I have (which is not a lot to begin with). I also have a tendency to leave stories unfinished when my imagination well runs dry. But, here goes.
My thanks to those that read and reviewed.
(Thank you, Leigh. If it wasn’t for your email, I might’ve never gotten around to this.)
Again, feedback is appreciated.
Note: This story is mainly built on a series of incidents that may or may not be relevant to the plot or character development. It just depends on what’s in my head at the time. I’m not implementing specific time intervals (for example, three years or so between this chapter and that chapter), since the general time period can be derived more or less from dialogue or small descriptions. If not, then go with your imagination.
Another note: I know this chapter is particularly short, but it has pretty much everything I want in it. Also, I know next to nothing about flowers. So forgive me if I have my facts wrong.
Chapter 7: The Quiet Place
Erestor placed his hand up to the window beside him and slowly curled his fingers as if to clutch at the smooth glass.
‘Why was I there?’
‘Because I was drawn by Fëanor’s words…because I wanted freedom…because I had nowhere else to go.’
‘Why did I kill?’
‘Because I had to. For the Oath. I had to kill or be killed.’
‘Was it worth it?’
‘No.’
‘What am I doing here, then?’
‘Avoiding Tol Eressea. Avoiding Aman. Avoiding Valinor.’
‘Why do I feel a constant pain?’
‘My sins are mine to bear alone.’
‘What will I do when it is time?’
‘Fade. Hide. I do not know…’
Celebrian wandered quietly outside the library building, wondering where Erestor was. He missed lunch again. He wasn’t at the library, according to the assistants. It made sense…today was a Sunday, which meant that no work had to be done. Of course, Erestor usually continues to work but sporadically, he would go off and do something alone…like right now. Celebrian began to think of all the places where an Elf could find solitude. Well, an Elf like Erestor. It would have to be a place where hardly anyone went. She closed her eyes and traced, in her mind, a map of Imladris.
‘Perhaps the watchtower that faces the cliff…’
The Lady of Imladris decided to rely on intuition and now strode ahead with purpose.
That particular watchtower was built more for aesthetic than security purposes. Since no Elf could scale the smooth-faced cliff, it was clear that no enemy would come from that direction. It would be an obvious weakness on their part. The watchtower was a solid, enclosed building. It was lean but sturdy; the platform beneath the pointed roof offered a clear view for the far-sighted Elves but at the same time the stone walls shielded them from high valley winds. A high flight of stairs spiraled up from the ground; it deliberately lacked a railing in case enemies managed to invade. The steep and narrow stairs easily accommodated the fleet-footed, well-balanced Elves, but would be no match for clumsy Orcs. Several windows with wide ledges were built alongside the stairs so that Elves could keep a constant watch as they went up.
Celebrian smiled faintly as she opened the wooden door and looked up. She saw a flutter of a frayed edge of a black robe up by the highest window and knew that it had to be Erestor.
“Erestor…what are you doing?”
The Lady’s soft voice was easily carried up toward Erestor’s sharp ears. The dark-haired Elf did not move, but spoke loudly enough for Celebrian to hear.
“Being alone, my Lady.”
“You missed lunch.”
“I know.”
Celebrian strained her eyes, using the sunlight through the windows to detect a far-away look on Erestor’s somber face. His knees were drawn up on the window ledge and he was staring out of the window as if something outside the tower captured his attention. But Celebrian knew better; he was lost in his memories…again. She sighed and clasped her hands together.
“We would like you to be there for dinner. You must eat, you know…”
“I will be there, my Lady.”
His voice came out as a mechanical response. Celebrian knew then that she would get no further word from him. She turned to open the door, when suddenly Glorfindel barged in.
“My Lady….”
The golden-haired Elf bowed hastily.
“What is it, Glorfindel?”
“I apologize for following you, but Lord Elrond desires an urgent word with you.”
Celebrian sighed and looked up fleetingly at Erestor then back at Glorfindel.
“Very well. Thank you, Glorfindel.”
With that, she left, vanishing as if she’d never been to the watchtower in the first place. The silence was deafening and Glorfindel felt awkward as his cloak made a sudden rustling noise. Curious, as he had never been instructed to oversee this particular tower, Glorfindel soundlessly climbed the stairs. As he neared the platform, he noticed a figure sitting on a window ledge, apparently in some sort of quiet meditation. The warrior turned his head a little and realized that it was Erestor. How coincidental. Glorfindel had wanted to talk to Erestor about an hour ago, but couldn’t find him. And here he was all along.
“Master Erestor, I’ve been looking for you.”
Glorfindel stood on the stairs in front of the window ledge Erestor occupied and used a light, friendly tone of voice. Erestor did not respond, but Glorfindel knew him long enough so that he was undeterred by it.
“I wanted to ask you something…would you go flower hunting with me? Lady Celebrian’s begetting day is coming up and Lord Elrond said that you knew the terrain best. I may know where all the trails are, but as to finding wild roses…well, I’m rather lost. I am hoping that we could also spend some time together.”
Still, Erestor did not move. Glorfindel sat on the edge of the window ledge and looked at the advisor. It seemed that he was in another place, another time…
“It would do you some good to go outside once in a while…”
Glorfindel tentatively reached over and placed a hand on Erestor’s shoulder. Hissing, the warrior drew his hand back as if it was burned.
“You’re freezing!”
It was then that Glorfindel saw how pale the advisor was, how old he really was…
Glorfindel’s exclamatory words snaked their way through Erestor’s fog of memories and pierced his thoughts. For the first time in several hours, the advisor shifted his gaze. As Erestor’s dark, unfathomable eyes fell on him, Glorfindel felt…as if he was being judged. It wasn’t until sharp words left the advisor’s mouth that Glorfindel broke the gaze.
“I told you before not to touch me.”
Sighing, Glorfindel looked out the window for a while, then back at Erestor.
“Valar’s sake…do you spend any time with anyone other than yourself?”
The warrior meant for it to be a stern response, but it came out as a near-whisper. Erestor turned his eyes toward the window again and fell silent as before. Glorfindel knew what this silent gesture meant: do not bother me and do not seek me out again.
“I won’t give up. You’ll die if you continue like this. Your soul is turning cold…I can see it. I just felt it. And don’t deny it.”
Glorfindel stood up and stared resolutely at the black-clad advisor. Erestor remained motionless. The warrior turned to go back down the stairs when he suddenly remembered something. He hastily unclasped his cloak and fastened it around Erestor’s shoulders, careful not to touch him. Without another word, Glorfindel hurried down the stairs. As he reached for the door handle, he caught a quiet sentence that floated down from above.
“Wild roses don’t grow in the fall.”
Author: silmfan (trueself101@yahoo.com)
Rating: PG so far
Pairing: Erestor/Glorfindel
Warning: m/m slash
Setting: Near the beginning of the Third Age, before the War of the Ring and when Elrond’s sons are still young elflings. Slightly AU (?)
Disclaimer: Obviously, these Elves do not belong to me.
Notes: There’s no absolute certainty that I will complete this…it looks like it might turn out to be a long series. It depends on how much time I have (which is not a lot to begin with). I also have a tendency to leave stories unfinished when my imagination well runs dry. But, here goes.
My thanks to those that read and reviewed.
(Thank you, Leigh. If it wasn’t for your email, I might’ve never gotten around to this.)
Again, feedback is appreciated.
Note: This story is mainly built on a series of incidents that may or may not be relevant to the plot or character development. It just depends on what’s in my head at the time. I’m not implementing specific time intervals (for example, three years or so between this chapter and that chapter), since the general time period can be derived more or less from dialogue or small descriptions. If not, then go with your imagination.
Another note: I know this chapter is particularly short, but it has pretty much everything I want in it. Also, I know next to nothing about flowers. So forgive me if I have my facts wrong.
Chapter 7: The Quiet Place
Erestor placed his hand up to the window beside him and slowly curled his fingers as if to clutch at the smooth glass.
‘Why was I there?’
‘Because I was drawn by Fëanor’s words…because I wanted freedom…because I had nowhere else to go.’
‘Why did I kill?’
‘Because I had to. For the Oath. I had to kill or be killed.’
‘Was it worth it?’
‘No.’
‘What am I doing here, then?’
‘Avoiding Tol Eressea. Avoiding Aman. Avoiding Valinor.’
‘Why do I feel a constant pain?’
‘My sins are mine to bear alone.’
‘What will I do when it is time?’
‘Fade. Hide. I do not know…’
Celebrian wandered quietly outside the library building, wondering where Erestor was. He missed lunch again. He wasn’t at the library, according to the assistants. It made sense…today was a Sunday, which meant that no work had to be done. Of course, Erestor usually continues to work but sporadically, he would go off and do something alone…like right now. Celebrian began to think of all the places where an Elf could find solitude. Well, an Elf like Erestor. It would have to be a place where hardly anyone went. She closed her eyes and traced, in her mind, a map of Imladris.
‘Perhaps the watchtower that faces the cliff…’
The Lady of Imladris decided to rely on intuition and now strode ahead with purpose.
That particular watchtower was built more for aesthetic than security purposes. Since no Elf could scale the smooth-faced cliff, it was clear that no enemy would come from that direction. It would be an obvious weakness on their part. The watchtower was a solid, enclosed building. It was lean but sturdy; the platform beneath the pointed roof offered a clear view for the far-sighted Elves but at the same time the stone walls shielded them from high valley winds. A high flight of stairs spiraled up from the ground; it deliberately lacked a railing in case enemies managed to invade. The steep and narrow stairs easily accommodated the fleet-footed, well-balanced Elves, but would be no match for clumsy Orcs. Several windows with wide ledges were built alongside the stairs so that Elves could keep a constant watch as they went up.
Celebrian smiled faintly as she opened the wooden door and looked up. She saw a flutter of a frayed edge of a black robe up by the highest window and knew that it had to be Erestor.
“Erestor…what are you doing?”
The Lady’s soft voice was easily carried up toward Erestor’s sharp ears. The dark-haired Elf did not move, but spoke loudly enough for Celebrian to hear.
“Being alone, my Lady.”
“You missed lunch.”
“I know.”
Celebrian strained her eyes, using the sunlight through the windows to detect a far-away look on Erestor’s somber face. His knees were drawn up on the window ledge and he was staring out of the window as if something outside the tower captured his attention. But Celebrian knew better; he was lost in his memories…again. She sighed and clasped her hands together.
“We would like you to be there for dinner. You must eat, you know…”
“I will be there, my Lady.”
His voice came out as a mechanical response. Celebrian knew then that she would get no further word from him. She turned to open the door, when suddenly Glorfindel barged in.
“My Lady….”
The golden-haired Elf bowed hastily.
“What is it, Glorfindel?”
“I apologize for following you, but Lord Elrond desires an urgent word with you.”
Celebrian sighed and looked up fleetingly at Erestor then back at Glorfindel.
“Very well. Thank you, Glorfindel.”
With that, she left, vanishing as if she’d never been to the watchtower in the first place. The silence was deafening and Glorfindel felt awkward as his cloak made a sudden rustling noise. Curious, as he had never been instructed to oversee this particular tower, Glorfindel soundlessly climbed the stairs. As he neared the platform, he noticed a figure sitting on a window ledge, apparently in some sort of quiet meditation. The warrior turned his head a little and realized that it was Erestor. How coincidental. Glorfindel had wanted to talk to Erestor about an hour ago, but couldn’t find him. And here he was all along.
“Master Erestor, I’ve been looking for you.”
Glorfindel stood on the stairs in front of the window ledge Erestor occupied and used a light, friendly tone of voice. Erestor did not respond, but Glorfindel knew him long enough so that he was undeterred by it.
“I wanted to ask you something…would you go flower hunting with me? Lady Celebrian’s begetting day is coming up and Lord Elrond said that you knew the terrain best. I may know where all the trails are, but as to finding wild roses…well, I’m rather lost. I am hoping that we could also spend some time together.”
Still, Erestor did not move. Glorfindel sat on the edge of the window ledge and looked at the advisor. It seemed that he was in another place, another time…
“It would do you some good to go outside once in a while…”
Glorfindel tentatively reached over and placed a hand on Erestor’s shoulder. Hissing, the warrior drew his hand back as if it was burned.
“You’re freezing!”
It was then that Glorfindel saw how pale the advisor was, how old he really was…
Glorfindel’s exclamatory words snaked their way through Erestor’s fog of memories and pierced his thoughts. For the first time in several hours, the advisor shifted his gaze. As Erestor’s dark, unfathomable eyes fell on him, Glorfindel felt…as if he was being judged. It wasn’t until sharp words left the advisor’s mouth that Glorfindel broke the gaze.
“I told you before not to touch me.”
Sighing, Glorfindel looked out the window for a while, then back at Erestor.
“Valar’s sake…do you spend any time with anyone other than yourself?”
The warrior meant for it to be a stern response, but it came out as a near-whisper. Erestor turned his eyes toward the window again and fell silent as before. Glorfindel knew what this silent gesture meant: do not bother me and do not seek me out again.
“I won’t give up. You’ll die if you continue like this. Your soul is turning cold…I can see it. I just felt it. And don’t deny it.”
Glorfindel stood up and stared resolutely at the black-clad advisor. Erestor remained motionless. The warrior turned to go back down the stairs when he suddenly remembered something. He hastily unclasped his cloak and fastened it around Erestor’s shoulders, careful not to touch him. Without another word, Glorfindel hurried down the stairs. As he reached for the door handle, he caught a quiet sentence that floated down from above.
“Wild roses don’t grow in the fall.”