Songs of the Spirit

Chapter Eight:

Lindir blinked his eyes, slowly allowing them to refocus away from pleasant dreamings and into reality. As the last remnants of sleep cleared away he found himself momentarily confused. This wasn’t his room; the colors were not the deep green and cream of his own quarters, and the bed was facing the wrong direction. However it didn’t take more than a few seconds to remember where he was, and with it came the memories of what had occurred the night before. His lips curled into a smile, and he realized that he felt more relaxed than he had since time remembering. There was a wonderful feeling of lightness to both his mind and body. The previous night had been an unexpected pleasure, surpassing all his dreams of what could be.

Looking back on the past few days, he found it amazing how it all had transpired, and so quickly as well. He wasn’t going to delude himself into thinking that now everything was going to be perfect; that he now knew everything about the dark advisor; that he would never be hurt again. Such thinking was only for the foolish. Yet he also felt that his situation had changed for the better, and much more swiftly now that he found someone he could be open with. The whole thing was something he would have thought impossible, like a faerie tale or a song…

He found himself laughing inwardly. Hadn’t he said that he desired a love like the songs in which he sang? It seemed as though the Valar had gifted him with his wish; all he needed to do was take it. And yet, he cautioned himself, in many cases those songs did not end happily, or at least the lovers had some terrible trial to endure before they could be together. Had he and Erestor’s trials already been endured, and this love was their reward, or was there something else waiting within the next stanza? Only time would tell. Ballads tended to be predictable in a way life never was.

Lindir shifted to the side, and with a frown realized he was alone. Of course, he thought, noticing the way the sunlight poured through a crack in the dark draperies. It was quite late in the morning. Erestor would already be hard at work in his office.

He stretched his body from toes to fingers, arching his back off the bed while groaning contentedly, feeling much like a cat who had discovered his own private bed of catmint. Then he shifted to rise, but paused in the motion when he noticed something new upon the bedside table. Granted, it could have been there the night before and he just never saw it in the flickering darkness, never mind the fact that his attentions had been directed towards other things. He sat up to look closer.

It was a simple box, flat and rectangular in shape, and carved from the wood of a quilted maple. The grain was unbelievably beautiful; a pattern of light swirls that achieved an almost hypnotic quality. Upon the wooden box rested a note with his name written in scrolling letters and below his name a simple message:

‘That you may keep record of your compositions.’

It was unsigned, although seemed obvious who it was from. With building anticipation he set the note aside and moved to pull the box onto his lap. Deft fingers unlatched the lid and lifted it open. Lying stacked within were many sheets of parchment lined for musical notation. Across the top in a separate compartment was a beautiful white quill from some exotic plumed bird, as well as a small pot of fine black ink. Lindir didn’t know what to think as he ran his fingers across the cool parchment, brushing past the soft barbs of the pen. It was an exquisite gift, and not uncostly. It must have been purchased well before their interlude. He was immensely touched, and knew he must go immediately to its giver and thank him.

He set the box aside and rose from the bed, gathering his clothes from the previous night. It looked as though Erestor had picked them up earlier before he departed, folding them properly and setting them upon the chair. Lindir couldn’t help but smile at the reminder of his lover’s fastidiousness.

He grabbed the box and left the room, headed for his own quarters first. After taking some time to clean himself and change into a pale grey shirt, deep blue trews, and long vest, he found himself standing outside the door where Erestor spent most of his days working. For a moment he wondered if it might not be better to wait until after the elf had finished with his duties, but reconsidered. He was in an impulsive mood, and before he could think about it further he knocked on the door.

A response to enter was called, and Lindir complied, opening the door and walking into the small study. Erestor sat in front of a rather large mahogany desk covered with various scrolls and missives, paperwork and reports. He looked as though he’d been hard at work, his inked quill paused over a sheet of paper. His eyes widened upon seeing Lindir, and a radiant smile broke across his face.

“Good morning,” he said, setting the quill back into it holder. “Did you sleep well?”

“Most assuredly so,” Lindir responded, smiling in return. He closed the door behind him and stepped up to the desk, holding the box before him. “I found this.”

“Ah.” Erestor sat back in his chair.

“I wished to thank you,” the bard explained. “It is exquisite.”

“You sing so beautifully,” Erestor told him. “And I had thought that you might compose as well. After last evening, I know that is true.”

Lindir smiled shyly as the memory of the song he had sang previously came back to him, and its unexpected results. “This gift, I will treasure it, although I feel as though I should somehow reciprocate…”

Erestor grinned. “Ah, but you already have.” When Lindir gave him a questioning look, he continued. “Last night. The song. I cannot think of any better gift.” Both knew he spoke of the song preformed by the bard in the outer room, although the more sensuous aria preformed later was also brought to mind, and Lindir knew Erestor was thinking of that gift as well.

“But if you would like to help me with something…?” Erestor asked.

“What do you wish?”

He pulled a piece of paper from one of the piles on his desk and scanned it briefly. “In a little over a months time Elrond will be hosting a summer gala with the other realms in attendance. It tends to be a sizeable event. I would be extremely grateful if you were to provide some entertainment for the guests?”

“Certainly,” Lindir replied, bowing slightly. Several days ago he might not have been so certain of his remaining in Imladris for that long. Now he had no reason to leave, and every reason to stay.

“Good,” Erestor smiled, dropping the parchment and leaning forward on his elbows. “The Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel will be attending. I would like for you to compose a song for them. I am certain, having spent some time in their court, you might know what sort of song they would like best?”

“I think I may be able to come up with something,” Lindir said, his mind already running down paths of inspiration. “And now I should probably leave you to your work. Will I see you tonight?”

“Most certainly.” His dark eyes locked with the bard’s. And then, impulsively, Lindir bent forwards over the desk and blessed Erestor’s lips with a kiss. It was only to be a quick gesture, a departing kiss before they parted ways, but it soon became something sweeter, as well as a reaffirming gesture of the trust they had placed within each other.

* * *

Two pairs of eyes, one light and one dark, peaked through the cracked door like two delinquent elflings spying on their elders. Erestor and Lindir were completely oblivious to the fact that they were being watched as they exchanged their departing kiss. The two spies couldn’t miss the dazed, yet happy look on Lindir’s face as he pulled away and slowly left the room. Erestor had a similar expression as he stared at the closed door where the bard had departed. Eventually he turned back to his work, although his normal air of complete concentration was broken by the soft smile crossing his lips. Then the eyes slipped away, and the other door closed softly.

“Well, that is promising,” Elrond murmured, backing away from the door with a grin.

“Indeed.” Thranduil’s expression matched the Imladrin Lord as he moved across the room. “They look good together.”

Elrond nodded. “And more than that, they should do well with each other.

“What do you know?” Thranduil asked, looking askance at the half-elf. He could sense something more lying behind his lover’s words.

“Only from what little you have told me of Lindir’s past, and what little I know of Erestor’s, those two seem to have much in common. They should be able to heal well together. It is a good match.”

Thranduil said nothing in reply, merely watching as Elrond moved to his desk and began organizing the various orders and reports piled there. Finally the half-elf looked up, and lifted one eyebrow in question.

“You are infuriating,” Thranduil said dryly.

“No fighting now,” Elrond reminded him, holding up a finger in reminder.

“I am not fighting, but my patience is waning. You know something of importance, and are deliberately baiting me.”

Elrond smiled sweetly. “Now why would I do that?”

More papers were shuffled, and suddenly the smile disappeared. Elrond heaved a deep sigh. “As a leader yourself, it is probably best that you are aware. Although I must express that some of what I am about say here not be repeated, as it is not my story to tell.” Thranduil nodded solemnly, which Elrond took as a gesture to continue.

“When Erestor first came here, he was much like Lindir in disposition. Quite shy, kept to himself… He never spoke much of his past, and still won’t. It was to Celebrian he opened up, after an altercation with another elf, and conversed with her about his past. It was through her that I discovered that Erestor had been abused as an elfling. His father would beat him, and eventually almost killed both him and his mother.”

“And you think something similar happened to Lindir?” Thranduil asked, his thoughts turning back towards the bard and what he knew of his past. Physical abuse wasn’t an idea he had ever considered, mainly because it was just not something normally attributed to their kind, the Kinslayings aside.

“Who is to say that Lindir’s father didn’t attack his own family, and then upon realization of what he had done, turned the blade upon himself? We know Lindir cannot abide fighting, and you told me yourself that he left Mirkwood when he heard you shouting at one of your sons. It is plausible.”

“More than such…” the blonde whispered, cerulean eyes still turned inwards. Other incidents came to mind: his inconspicuous nature, particularly when in the presence of an authoritative male; his avoidance of conflictive situations; the sadness of his music. “How can we be so unaware?” Elrond moved from behind the desk, stepping closer to the Mirkwood king with sympathy in his eyes. Such was a question he had long asked himself.

“It is not right,” Thranduil finally said with an intensely frustrated look. “As rulers and guardians we should be able to prevent such atrocities from occurring.”

“I agree.” Elrond said, his voice tense with his own frustrations. “Being not only a Lord and Guardian, but a Master Healer…Yet we are not omnipotent. When such things are as concealed in secrecy as they tend to be, we have no way of knowing help is needed until it is too late.”

“But there should be something we can do.” The blonde elf slipped despondently into a chair. He didn’t like being told that there was something he couldn’t do, especially when it concerned the welfare of his people. He was an elf of action, but in this he felt as though his hands were tied.

“Support them.” Elrond told him, moving to seat himself upon Thranduil’s thighs and placing his hands upon the elf’s lean shoulders. “Let them know they are not alone. Make other elves aware that such things can happen. Sometimes things as simple as awareness can do much to help lessen these problems. We may be immortal, but we are only elves.”

“It is a start at least,” Thranduil conceded, leaning forward to place a quick kiss on the half-elf’s lips.

Elrond smiled. “Yes, it is.”


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Jayn: Wow! Thank you for reviewing! And as a special treat, just for you, I’ll post the next chapter really soon…