GLORFINDEL LION-HEART
Genre: slash, humour, sap.
Rating: yellow/mild orange
Pairings: Erestor/Glorfindel (not the Balrog-slayer, though), Erestor/Legolas
Warnings: AU, and how! A wee bit of angst.
Beta: Miss Enismirdal, the mûmak multiplicator
Feedback: But most certainly yes!
Beautiful artwork by Nellas of Doriath!
Summary: Glorfindel wishes he had a lion-heart. And Erestor.
Author's notes: They only thing this story has in common with my "usual" AU are the customs of the Woodland Elves. Originally, this was supposed to be a stand-alone. Alas, it turned out to be a new series. Thanks for convincing me to write this series, it was a lot of fun!
CHAPTER 9
Mirkwood was everything Legolas had promised, and more. Glorfindel could not decide what he should look at first. There were trees, so high and old like no trees he had ever seen before, and they seemed to talk to Legolas. They lowered their branches in greeting, and bushes retreated to make way for Legolas and his travelling companion.
All Elves were in tune with nature, of course, but never had Glorfindel seen such a close connection as here. Forest sprites, indeed. He felt a thousand eyes watching him, weighing him, judging him, and not all of those eyes belonged to Elf or animal.
Fortunately, none of the infamous spiders decided to make an appearance, but Legolas had already told Glorfindel that they usually only came out at night. The two rode across the forest, and though Glorfindel could not make out a way, it was obvious that Legolas knew exactly where he had to guide his horse.
Glorfindel heard the murmuring of a beck, and to his ears it sounded as if the millions and millions of water drops held an animated conversation. Everything here was alive, thinking, feeling and speaking, alas in a language Glorfindel could not understand. The beck came in sight, and with it a small bridge leading to the other side.
"See, over there? This is the Great Cave of my father!" Legolas cried, suddenly very excited. It was obvious that he was happy to return home, and he drove his horse on. Glorfindel followed, alas with less enthusiasm.
He almost fell off his horse when, seemingly out of nowhere, two Elves appeared. He supposed that they had been hiding in the bushes or in a tree, but for all he knew, they might also have grown out of the ground.
Both Elves, armed with bows and dressed in green and brown suede, bowed deeply before Legolas.
"Welcome back, son of Thranduil. We hope the hunt has gone well."
They both eyed Glorfindel curiously, and he felt a little uncomfortable. Both guardians, for such they must have been, looked very young, but on a second glance, he could see that their eyes were old, wise and wild. Beings as ancient as these trees.
He swallowed hard.
"The hunt has been excellent," Legolas replied cheerfully, and jumped off his horse. He nodded to Glorfindel, who dismounted his horse in a less risky fashion, and introduced his guest.
"This is an old friend of mine from Imladris, Glorfindel the Bow-maker. Fulfil his wishes, follow his orders and show him the way to the wine cellar if he should ask for it."
Both Elves grinned, and bowed to Glorfindel.
"We have heard a lot of your skills, Master Glorfindel. Pray tell, will you show us some tricks of your trade?" one asked eagerly. Glorfindel, taken by surprise, stammered a few incomprehensible words. Legolas grabbed him by the sleeve and directed him towards the entrance.
"You may pester Master Glorfindel later on with all the questions you might have, but first, we will go and see my father."
The Elf who had addressed Glorfindel winced.
"I do not know if this is such a good idea, Legolas. His reaction when he heard of your return was not overly enthusiastic, to put it mildly."
Legolas rolled his eyes, and Glorfindel visibly shrunk.
"He will survive it. And so will we. Time to meet Thranduil the Terrible, Glorfindel! Do not allow him to impress you. He is kind of heart and could not harm a fly. Just… do not mention any dwarves, will you?"
Glorfindel, doubting that he would even manage to speak a single word in the presence of the legendary ruler of Mirkwood, only nodded, and followed Legolas in a daze.
Walking through the Great Cave was like finding a way through a maze. There were dozens of corridors, and they all looked the same. The ground was covered with sand, so fine that it was like walking on grass, and the light of the torches broke in the crystals embedded in the walls, illuminating the place with a magical, ever changing light. It was like looking through a kaleidoscope, and Glorfindel was absolutely fascinated. This was completely different from the murky cave he had expected; it was a place full of magic.
At the beginning of every corridor, a metal plate with an odd sign was embedded; probably somebody's arms. An odd custom.
"We will now enter my father's Great Hall. Do not be afraid, no matter what he says, and even if you are, do not show it. He has a lot of fun unsettling his visitors."
Legolas winked at Glorfindel, then the two Elves entered King Thranduil's Great Hall.
For a moment, Glorfindel could do nothing but stare. This was not a cave – it was a dome! Stalactites, illuminated by torches, shone in all the colours of the rainbow; crystals glittered on the walls, and the ground was covered with black sand which crunched under Glorfindel's boots. On both sides of the hall, seats were hewn into the stone – probably the seats of the members of Thranduil's council. Or, judging by the arms above each seat, the heads of the various clans of Mirkwood.
It was archaic. There was nothing of the playfulness of Imladris, or Lothlórien's level of sophistication. But there was dignity and magic, and Glorfindel was in awe.
In the middle of the hall stood a throne. It was nothing but a simple stone seat on a small pedestal, but the Elf sitting on it made it a throne nevertheless. Glorfindel did not really have an idea what to expect from King Thranduil, but he had imagined him to be a little like Lord Celeborn on a very bad day.
Instead the Elf who stood up when Legolas and Glorfindel entered was slight of build, smaller than Legolas, and looked even younger than his son. Had it not been for the wisdom of millennia in those green eyes and the stern expression on his face, Thranduil could have been mistaken for an Elf only a few years past his majority. His garments were simple, leggings made of black suede, black boots and a dark-green jerkin. On his head was a crown of ivy, and Glorfindel would have been enchanted by this beautiful being if the king had not obviously been so very angry.
"Legolas! I demand an explanation! Where have you been? And why are you dragging strangers into our realm? Do you not think that two warriors with golden hair are enough for one realm?"
Legolas grinned, and opened his arms.
"Ada! I am happy to see you as well! Come here, let me hug you!"
"I do not wish to hug you. If you were not too old for such business already, I would put you over my knee and spank you!"
"You did not spank me when I was an Elfling, ada, and now it is too late to start new customs," Legolas replied, a cheeky grin on his face.
Despite his words, Thranduil hugged his son tightly, and for a brief moment, Glorfindel could see the expression of love and relief on the king's face. But this lasted really only but a moment.
"And now tell me, who is this and why is he here?" the king growled, and pointed at Glorfindel, who was beginning to feel a little angry about this outrageous treatment. Legolas put an arm around his shoulder and pushed him in front of Thranduil.
"This is Glorfindel the Bow-maker, ada. He comes from Imladris, and he is a friend of mine."
"Ha. Imladris. So you are one of Elrond's bugaboos then, eh? And why are you here, if I may ask? I cannot remember inviting you to cross the borders of my realm without permission."
Glorfindel clenched his jaws and closed his hands into fists.
"I am here because your son invited me, Sire. You may believe me that I would have never set a foot into your realm had it not been for him and the memory of one who has been dear to me!"
Thranduil arched an eyebrow, and much to his surprise, Glorfindel could see the same mischief in his eyes that he had previously found in Legolas'. Being obnoxious, so it seemed, ran in the family then.
"Ah, you have brought me a pepper pot here, Legolas. Good! I like Elves with fighting spirit! Things are far to quiet around here. But as I do not think your intention was to keep your old father entertained, I kindly ask you to tell me now why you disappeared without leaving a note and why you brought along this souvenir from Imladris. You! Put those chairs back, right now!"
Right in the middle of his discussion with Legolas, Thranduil had jumped forward and thundered at two servants who had approached them, each of them carrying a chair.
"But Sire, we thought that your son and his guest might wish to sit down…" one of them whimpered, but Thranduil cut him off.
"You thought, ah? Do not think! It is plenty enough if I think around here! I have told you over and over again that no piece in here may be moved, under any circumstances! Which part of 'never' is it you did not understand? Back with it where you took it, immediately!"
The servants bowed deeply and hurried to follow their king's orders. Glorfindel began to wonder if maybe Thranduil's mind was a little troubled at times.
"Idiots. They will never learn," Thranduil grumbled. "Come, let us take a seat over there."
He led Legolas and Glorfindel to the seats of the council and asked them to sit down. Legolas did not seem to think his father's behaviour to be somewhat peculiar, on the contrary: his friend also glared angrily at the servants.
A very odd family.
"So, speak, son. And I wish to hear the full story," Thranduil ordered once they had all taken a seat. Legolas steepled his fingers and looked at his father with great seriousness.
"I had Glorfindel brought here because of Erestor, ada."
Thranduil paled, then his eyes narrowed.
"Legolas. This is a matter only concerning our people. You had no right to invite an outsider. You broke your word, you promised not to speak of this to any Elf outside of our realm!"
"I kept my promise, ada, for I did not tell Glorfindel why I brought him here. He trusted me without an explanation. I felt that I was right, and you were in the wrong. And as we would have never managed to find an agreement, I acted as my heart told me."
Thranduil snorted.
"Your heart. Of course. And now you expect me to become all soft and forgive you?"
Legolas shrugged.
"I expect you to live up to your reputation as a fair and wise ruler, ada."
Thranduil stared at his son and at Glorfindel, who had no idea what the two Mirkwood Elves were talking about. He seemed to consider his son's words, then he nodded and stood up.
"Very well then. But the responsibility is all yours, Legolas. I feel that this is a mistake, and not what Erestor would have wanted. Whatever happens – you are responsible for the consequences."
Without waiting for Legolas' answer, Thranduil turned around, facing one of the many corridors leading to the Great Hall. He yelled something in a language Glorfindel did not understand. It sounded like a very odd version of Quenya, but Glorfindel, who only spoke Sindarin, was not certain about it.
For a while, nothing happened, then Glorfindel could hear the crunching sound of booted feet on the sandy ground. A hand appeared, touching one of the metal plates in the wall, and finally an Elf appeared, walking towards Thranduil, carefully avoiding the chairs the servants had wanted to move earlier on.
"You called for me, my king?" he asked.
Glorfindel felt Legolas' fingers dig painfully into his arm. He opened his mouth to speak, but Legolas put a hand over his mouth, a silent order to keep quiet. Not that this had been necessary, Glorfindel knew that he could not have said a single word, even if he had been allowed to.
"Indeed, I have," Thranduil said, glaring angrily at his son. "I wanted you to know that Legolas has returned from his little unannounced journey, and thought you might wish to welcome him."
The Elf bowed his head, turning his head to Thranduil.
"It is good to meet you again, Legolas. I have missed you."
Legolas bowed his head, though it was a pointless gesture.
"I have missed you as well. It is good to be home, Erestor."
* * *
TBC