The Hawk and The Raven

Title: The Hawk and The Raven
Author: Ivory Wolf
Summary: Youfic. you are erestor's assistant and you can't figure him out and glorfindel keeps hitting on you. what happens when you have to chose between firey passion and loyal love?
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Erestor and you
Feedback: desired.
Characters: You (willow), Jasmine, Glorfindel, Erestor, Elrohir, Elladan, Elrond. There are other characters, but i can't remember them off the top of my head.
Betas: myself
Author’s notes: below.
*Disclaimer: the only people i own are willow, jasmine, willow's mother and father, and jasmine's father (if he's ever mentioned). all of the lord of the rings characters aren't mine. i don't make money writing this.

please don't expect quick updates with this story. i'm going to take my time with it and make sure i'm satisfied with everything before i put it up. i'm still working on 'to warm an advisor's heart' so don't panic. hope you enjoy this story.
love,
Ivory Wolf

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“’Wanted. Assistant to Chief Advisor of Rivendell. Must be well-educated in mathematics, history, and languages. Speaking and writing English is a plus as the Assistant will travel with Chief Advisor to the land of man. Must be easy to get along with, have a positive attitude, be well organized, be flexible, and have a friendly personality. Wages will be discussed as well as benefits. The Assistant will be housed in Lord Elrond’s home near the Chief Advisor. Interviews will be conduct this weekend only from noon until the evening both Saturday and Sunday at Lord Elrond’s home.’”

Your sister stares at the paper before looking to you. She holds the paper up for you to see. She is sitting at the kitchen table and has been reading that damn paper over and over again for nearly five minutes. Apparently, she swiped it from your neighbors step this morning on her way to her garden. She pushes back her blonde hair as she studies the paper again with her deep blue eyes. Blue eyes that match yours. You wouldn’t be surprised if she’s memorized it by now.

“This has your name written all over it Willow,” she says. “You are all of these things and more. Lord Elrond would hire you the second he talked to you.”

You don’t reply. You focus on stirring the herb soup. Your long brown hair is tied back in a bun to keep it off of your neck. You wipe the sweat from your brow as you try to decide if the soup is cooked right.

“Willow, are you listening to me?” Jasmine asks. She stands and walks over to you. She sticks the paper in front of your face. You push it from you. You grab a poorly carved wooden bowl and pour some of the soup in it. “Don’t you get it? If you take the job you could work in the office instead of out in the fields. Willow!”

“Hush,” you snap. “Mother doesn’t need all of this ruckus. I won’t be working for Lord Elrond of his Chief Advisor because I’m needed here more than in some fancy office.” You put the bowl on a tray. You open a shabby cabinet and pull a chipped cup. You fill it with water. You mentally check off the items on the tray. Soup. Water. Medicine. Spoon. Napkin.

Satisfied, you pick up the tray and carry it through the tiny house and up the stairs. You reach your mother’s room and knock on the door. “Are you awake?” you call softly.

“Of course. Come in, Willow,” she answers. You open the door with one hand. Your mother looks as fragile as ever. She is too skinny and you doubt she’d be able to stand for barely a few seconds before falling. Her hair is silver and spread out on the pillow below her head. Her dark blue eyes lighten up when they see you. She struggles to sit up.

“I’ve brought you herb soup. The doctors said this might help,” you say. You put the tray on her lap. You fluff her pillows.

“Don’t fuss over me so much, I am fine.” She puts her hand on yours. She smiles at you and pulls you into a hug. “I wish you would go out at least once in a while. I may be bedridden, but you’re not.”

“Mother.” Jasmine enters the room with the paper in her hands. You want to grab it from her, but she reaches your mother before you have the chance. She hands the paper to her.

You stare at the ground as your mother reads it. You hear her gasp in excitement. “This is your big chance Willow,” she says. “You’ve always been a fantastic student in school and you’re one of the kindest people known in this side of Rivendell. You’d do wonderful in this career-“

“No,” you say. “I need to stay here and take care of you.”

“Poppycock,” she says. She takes your hands and holds them close. “Willow, you need to begin a life of your own. You have already reached majority and what are you doing? Stuck here taking care of your mother.”

“I like taking care of you.”

“We both know that’s a lie. A kind lie. But a lie none the less. No one wants to be stuck practically babysitting another for the rest of their lives.” She puts the paper in your hands. “Go to the interview. Promise me you will. Please.”

You know if you promise her then you’ll go. Promises are sacred to you and you don’t take them lightly. You sigh. “Yes, Mother. I promise.”

“Good.” She smiles, but you know she’s in pain. Though the doctors have given her plenty of painkillers, they only ease it enough that she can function. “Now, if you two will excuse me, I think I will eat my meal before taking a nap. The summer festival is still going on, why don’t you two go?”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Jasmine says. “Would you like us to get you anything?”

“I think I would like the soft sweet stuff from Sandriel,” she answers. She tries to think of what it was called.

“Cotton candy,” you say.

“Yes!” Her eyes brighten at the thought. “It’s been so long since I’ve had any. I think I would like some. . . if that’s all right with you, Willow.”

“Of course, Mother.”

Jasmine grabs your hand and pulls you out of the room. “We will be back later,” she calls over her shoulder. “Try not to have too much fun while we’re gone.”

Your mother chuckles. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” she says.

‘No, you won’t,’ you think. ‘You’ll never be fine again.’

You let Jasmine guide you to the festival as you think of everything that has happened in the past decade. Your mother grew weaker and weaker within a few months until she couldn’t walk without a cane. The downward spiral continued until she wasn’t able to get out of bed without falling. Then the pain started. Such pain that she would spend the night tossing and turning as she screamed. None of the herbs from Jasmine's garden helped so you were forced to go to the doctors. They were able to give you herbs that helped relieve her, but they could never explain the illness.

“We’ve never seen anything like this before,” one said. “We didn’t know that elves were able to get sick.”

You’ve researched all you could, but you still haven’t been able to find the cause. Now all you can do is take care of her and hope her pain will stop.

“Don’t look so glum, Willow,” Jasmine says. “We are out, you should enjoy that.”

“And who will watch Mother?” you ask.

Jasmine stops walking and hugs you close. You bury your face in her shoulder as you fight the tears. She doesn’t say anything and she doesn’t need to. While you have cared for Mother all of these years, you know you couldn’t have survived without Jasmine. She has been your comfort and the one who would spend the night talking to you when you couldn’t sleep. She isn’t just your sister; she’s your best friend.

You pull away from the embrace and wipe the tears that managed to escape down your cheeks. “I’m fine,” you say. “Let’s go.” You and Jasmine walk arm in arm down the street and towards the festival.

You can hear the music and smell the food before you reach it. The music is joyful and the food is enough to make your mouth water. You see the bright stalls and feel your mood lighten. You’ve always loved the festival.

You walk past the weapon, food, clothing, jewelry, and flower stalls. You hurry towards your favorite part of the festival. Jasmine laughs and runs with you, knowing where you are going.

“Come my children, it is time for another story.” The elf’s voice is deep and mysterious, as if she has a big secret to tell you. The elf has green, blue, purple, pink, and yellow bandanas wrapped around her head to keep her black hair held back. Her large green eyes shine as she looks to each elf, eager to hear another story from Madame Emerald. Her arms are covered with bracelets that clink together whenever she moves her arms. “What story shall I tell today?”

“The hawk and the raven,” you say quickly.

Her head perks up as she looks the elf who requested it. Her eyes fall on you. She smiles. “My darling, Willow. I see you have finally come back to the festival. I have missed not seeing you every year,” she says.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “Things. . .”

“I understand.” Her eyes are soft and you know she knows what you and your sister have been though. “You and Jasmine are as beautiful as I thought you would be when I first saw you.”

“That was centuries ago,” you say.

“That may be, but I haven’t forgotten that day.” Remembering she has an audience, she looks to the children. “These two elves have come to listen to my stories since they were your age. The story Willow has asked for me to tell was the story I told when I first met her and Jasmine. Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes!”

“Yes, Madame Emerald.”

“Please!”

You love seeing the excitement on the children’s faces. They are so young and innocent. You wish you could hide them from the troubles they will have to face when they’re older.

“Very well,” Madam Emerald says. “I will tell the story of the hawk and the raven.” She closes her eyes. All of you are silent as you watch her. You know she is mentally fishing for the story.

“Long ago,” she begins. “Before humans walked the lands. Before there were hundreds of elves crowding the forests, the birds ruled the lands. They soared high in the heavens and watched over all who inhabited Middle Earth. There were two birds who were praised above all others. The proud hawks and the intelligent ravens. Both had rulers who were fair and just. They did not rule for themselves, but the wellbeing of all.

“The hawks had a young prince named Gold Feather, for he was the fairest of all hawks. His feathers were soft and shined gold brighter than even the sun. He was a fierce warrior and a passionate lover. He was one all hawks fought over for all wanted to be the mate of the handsome hawk.

“The ravens had a young prince named Night Feather, for he too was the fairest of his kind. His feathers were like silk and were darker than a moonless night. His intelligence surpassed all known animals and he was loyal to those he loved. He was the raven all other ravens would do anything for to have a chance to be his mate.

“But neither wanted any of the hawks or ravens so they spent many years alone. Because of their loneliness, they became friend and enjoyed being in each others company. One day, while they were flying over the beginnings of the lands of Lothlorien, they heard a sound coming from below. A voice, so beautiful and serene that it made angels weep in joy, reached their ears from below.

“’What is that heavenly sound?’ Gold Feather asked his companion.

“’I do not know,’ Night Feather answered. ‘Let us find out.’

“When they descended into the forest, they were taken back by a shocking sight. An elf maiden was bathing in the river as she sang. Her chestnut hair floated about her as she bathed. When she spotted the birds with her sky eyes, she shrieked in fright.

“’Do not be afraid,’ Night Feather said. ‘We will not harm you. We heard your singing and it was so beautiful that we had to see where it came from. Do you mind if we visit with you, if only for a while?’

“The maiden was flattered and agreed. That’s when the trouble began. The more Night Feather and Gold Feather spent time with the maiden, the more they fell in love with her. They would fight and fuss over who the maiden would choose as her husband.

“’She wants someone who will show her love,’ Gold Feather said.

“’She wants someone who she can trust to care for her,’ Night Feather said.

“The day came when both proposed to the maiden. She cried. ‘I will choose none because your friendship should be worth more than me,’ she said.

“Night Feather did not push further and continued to enjoy being with her as a friend. Gold Feather, however, wooed her every time they met with presents and compliments. One day, she announced she made her choice.

“’I choose Night Feather,’ she said. ‘Because while Gold Feather showed me affection, Night Feather should me true love when he didn’t try to bribe me with trinkets when I told him I would choose no one.’

“Night Feather and the maiden wed and lived happily ever after.”

“What happened to Gold Feather?” one of the children asked.

“He never found a mate,” Madame Emerald answers. “You see, the hawk may have loved passionately, but he was never loyal to one. He loved one hawk one day then went to another the next. The raven chose the maiden to be his one and only love.”

“I love that story,” you say Jasmine.

“I know you do,” she says. “Are you glad that we came?”

“Yes, I am. Let us go. I’m sure you want to look at clothes before we leave.”

“Now that you mentioned it, yes I do.” You share a smile with your sister. You enjoy the rest of your time spending it with your favorite elf in the world; your sister.

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“’O my darlin’ o my darlin’ o my darlin’ Clementine,’” you sing as you and Jasmine walk home. “’You were lost and gone forever, dreadful sorry Clementine.’” Jasmine twirls her new scarf in one hand and holds your hand in the other.

The scarf is pink, purple, and blue in a tie-dye fashion. Jasmine fell in love with it the moment she saw it.

In your hand is a bag of Sandriel’s cotton candy. When he heard it was for your mother, he made three fresh batches for you; pink, blue, and green. You couldn’t thank him enough, especially when he refused payment.

“I haven’t heard you sing in years,” Jasmine says. She is grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve missed hearing your voice.”

You feel yourself blush as you smile. Your smile fades when you come upon your house. The lights are out and the front door is open. “Oh no,” you say. Jasmine sees the opened door and gasps.

Both of you run to the house as fast as your legs can carry you. You start screaming; “Mother! Mother! Are you okay?” You hurry through the house and to her room. Her door is wide open. You cry out in shock when you see she’s not in her bed.

“By Valor,” Jasmine says. “Mother!” She runs through the house, screaming ‘Mother.’ You can’t move because you see a piece of paper in the spot where your mother had been lying earlier that day.

You force yourself to walk to her bedside. Your hands shake as you pick up the paper. You recognize your mother’s writing the second you see it. As you read it, you cry. You drop the cotton candy and crumble to the floor.

Jasmine comes in the room. She is shocked to see you on the floor and crying. When she sees the paper, she pales. “What does it say?” she asks.

“She’s gone,” you whisper. You hold up the paper to her. “She sailed to Grey Haven.”

Jasmine takes the paper from you and reads it aloud. “’My darling daughters. I’m sorry I had to leave you this way, but I knew you would stop me if I didn’t. I have given this much thought and have decided that it is time you two live life to the fullest instead of taking care of your dying mother. By the time you read this, I will begin my long sail to Grey Haven. Please forgive me, my daughters. I love you both more than life itself. I will see you again, on the other side of the sea. Love always, Mother.’”

Her voice is shaking and thick with emotion by the time she is done. Tears are streaming down her eyes and her hands shake. She falls to her knees beside you. You wrap your arms around each other and sob.

“What are we going to do?” Jasmine asks.

“I know what I’m going to do,” you say. “I’m going to keep my promise to Mother because I know she’d want me to.”

Jasmine looks at you in amazement. She almost smiles. “You’re really going to do it?”

“Yes,” you answer. “This weekend I’m going to Lord Elrond’s home.”

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“Your next,” an elf says. She’s holding a parchment. “Follow me.” You squeeze your sister’s hand before following the elf down a large hallway. You are lead into a large room with a long table where three elves are sitting at and a chair a distance away from it. Two of the elves you recognize without introduction.

The elf to the far left is named Glorfindel, the Golden Flower of Rivendell. He has long golden hair that shimmers under the light. His eyes are crystal blue and smile with his light pink lips. Unlike the other two, he isn’t wearing a dress robe, but a tunic and pants. You know of him because your house is near the border of Rivendell. He and his troops have come and gone many a time on your road on the way to patrol the border.

The elf is Elrond, the leader of Rivendell. He has chestnut hair and grey eyes. His dress robe is crimson, bringing out the natural blush in his cheeks. He studies you and seems to like you so far because he is smiling.

The elf to the far right is. . . well, you don’t know who he is. All you know is he’s handsome. He has thick midnight colored hair. Darker than any you’ve seen before. He has kissable lips and high cheekbones. You don’t know why, but you find him both attractive and unnerving. His eyes are chocolate and stare at you without emotion. It’s almost as if the elf feels nothing. His robes are dark grey. You know he’s the type who would blend into the crowd.

So, two of the three are smiling; you hope that’s a good sign. You are suddenly glad you let Jasmine talk you into borrowing her bright yellow dress. The only reason you don’t like it is because the slit because it goes up too far for your comfort. Not too mention you are probably showing a far amount of cleavage because of the way the top is design.

“It’s a long sleeved dress so that’ll cancel out the cleavage,” Jasmine had said when you complained. You couldn’t resist moving your forearms and watching the sleeves flow around them like water as Jasmine zipped you up. “Just don’t bend over and you’ll be fine.”

“This is Glorfindel, Captain of Lord Elrond’s Army,” the elf who walked you in there introduces. You can tell from her tone of voice she is fond of the Golden Flower. “This is Lord Elrond.” Again, her tone is warm but you know it’s from respect more than the lust she had for Glorfindel. “And this is Erestor, Chief Advisor of Rivendell.” Her tone is dull, showing she doesn’t feeling anything for the Chief Advisor.

‘So this is the elf I’ll be working with,’ you think. You feel nervous. You’re not sure if you want to work with him or not because you don’t know what to make of him.

“Glorfindel, Lord Elrond, Erestor, this is Willow,” she says. She hands a paper you filled out earlier to Lord Elrond. As she passes you on her way out of the room she whispers; “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” you whisper back.

When the elf is gone, Elrond stands and waves to the chair across from them. “Have a seat,” he offers.

“Thank you,” you say. You sit in the uncomfortable chair as Elrond sits back down. You look to each elf and don’t know whether you should speak or not. When nothing is said, you decide to say something. “So, have all of you had a good week?”

Lord Elrond’s eyes widen in surprise. “Actually, I did,” he answers. “I took my children to the festival this week. If I’m thinking correctly,” he looks down at the paper you filled out, “you live near there.”

“Yes, I do.” You smile. “My sister and I went there just the other day.”

“I thought I recognized you,” Glorfindel says when he glances at the paper. “Her family's the one who always offered food and drinks to myself and my soldiers whenever we came or left the borders,” he tells Elrond and Erestor.

“Your mother is Yanmia, correct?” Erestor asks.

“Yes, that was her name,” you answer. He doesn’t react so you guess he already knows about her sailing to Grey Haven. “Did you know her?”

“I hear her perform at one of Elrond’s gatherings a decade ago,” he answers.

“I remember Yanmia,” Lord Elrond says. “She had a beautiful voice. She stopped singing. . .”

“Once she got sick,” you finish.

Lord Elrond shifts in his chair and looks down at the paper. “It says you got your education at the public school here,” he says.

“There are many applicants who went to Trential’s Private School,” Erestor says. “That school, as you know, is the best and most challenging school Rivendell has to offer. Why should we pick you over them?”

So he’s going to be the tough one. That’s fine with you because you’re up for the challenge. His opinions matter more than the others because you’re sure he’s going to have the final say in this.

“I agree with most of what you said,” you say. The only hint of his surprise is the slight widening of his eyes. “While it is the most challenging school, I’m sure you’d agree with my saying that Kali is the best teacher any elven school in Middle Earth has to offer.”

He gives a slight nod while Glorfindel laughs. “Kali? She teaches children! What’s so challenging about that?”

You can’t believe his ignorance. “She has studied all over Middle Earth for centuries. She is the one the leaders go to for advice. She teaches children because she believes children between 2-6 are at a stage where they need stimulating and challenging work that will help their brains develop better. The statistics comparing her children with other teachers prove that hers are ninety-eight percent more likely to pass their finals with top scores,” you say.

“What does she have to do with you?” Erestor asks. “Like you said, she only teaches those from two to six.”

“She decided to tutor me,” you answer. “After my classes in public school, I would go to her home and study the textbooks from Trential’s Private School. She also threw in a few books from schools in Lothlorien and Mirkwood. I continued to study with her for nearly a two decades after my school career ended. So I can assure you I have more than enough intelligence to make up for my public education.”

Erestor nods again. Elrond notices and smiles again. He looks at you and winks. You guess he’s telling you this is a good sign.

“You also speak English, correct?” Erestor asks in English.

“Yes,” you answer back in perfect English. “Kali made sure I read and recited works written by man over the years.”

“Impressive,” Glorfindel says in Elvish. “Is there anything else you need to ask her, Erestor?”

“Why do you want this job?” Erestor asks. The question catches you off guard, especially coming from him. You didn’t expect him to ask anything that deals with your emotions.

You look at your hands. Should you tell them the truth or should you lie? “I never thought about taking this job. My sister tried to talk me into it, but it wasn’t until Mother made me promise that I even considered it.”

Glorfindel gasps, Elrond’s mouth falls open, and Erestor blinks. “You’re not supposed to say that,” Glorfindel says. “You should have made up something.”

“I don’t believe in lying,” you say.

“What do you think now?” Erestor asks.

You’re surprised he didn’t ask you to leave instead. “What do you mean?” you asks.

“You say you never thought about it. Now that you’re here, what do you think about it?”

“I want to have a job that’s mentally challenging, but won’t wear me down. I can handle what this job has to offer because it calls for intelligence as well as personality. I love talking to elves and being around them, but it’s a relief knowing I’ll also be able to do solo work,” you answer.

“I’m sure you’ve been worn down these past few years,” Lord Elrond says. “I heard the doctors were never able to diagnose what she had.”

“With all due respect, Lord Elrond, I’d rather not talk about this here. I don’t want this job out of pity, but whether or not you think I’m qualified,” you say.

“Unbelievable,” Glorfindel says. “Do you know how many elves came here and cried trying to make us feel sorry for them so we’d hire them? You have a damn good reason to be crying and you don’t take advantage of it!”

You wrinkle your nose. “I’m not interviewing for a part in a play, I’m interviewing for a job that requires honesty,” you say. “If I lie and act through this interview, what would that say about me and how I work?”

Glorfindel looks you over. He leans back in his chair and props his feet on the table. You cross your arms and look to Erestor. He is still staring at you with the same blank look he had when you first saw him.

“Well, I’m sure you have work you need to do,” Lord Elrond says. You take the hint and stand. The three elves stand, each offering there hand.

You shake Glorfindel’s. You feel your cheeks heat up when he looks down your chest. Unintelligent. Yes. Arrogant. Yes. Desirable. Yes! You don’t like it, but you can’t stop the lustful thoughts you think about the golden-haired warrior.

You shake Elrond’s. You like the elf and think of him as the father you always wanted since yours was a. . . You push the memories away. You see the concern in his eyes when he sees your eyes tear up. He is a very sweet elf.

You shake Erestor’s. Again, you are unable to get any read off from the elf. His hand is cold and it makes you smile. “What’s so funny?” he asks.

“My mother always had a saying about elves who have cold hands,” you say.

“What’s that?” he asks. You almost hear a faint curiosity in his voice.

“Cold hands, warm heart,” you answer.

His eyes widen slightly and he almost smiles. You hear Glorfindel gasp. “Did you see that?” you hear Glorfindel whisper to Elrond.

Erestor’s smile fades and he wears his usual blank face again. He releases your hand, which you hadn’t even realized he had been holding. “Good-bye Willow.”

“Good-bye Erestor.” You leave the room and nearly jump out of your skin when someone grabs you.

“How was it?” Jasmine asks.

You stare at the hand Erestor had shaken, it still tingled. “It was. . . different.”

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