SWORDS AND PACIFIERS
This chapter has now been beta-read by the wonderful Eveiya. Thank you!
Rating: PG to PG-13, depending on the chapter (don't rise your hopes, though. I'm hopelessly vanilla.)
Category: slash, humour, AU (very!), some angsty bits as well
Pairings: Erestor/Glorfindel
Other pairings mentioned: Haldir/Rabbit, Aragorn/Arwen, Elrond/somebody (female), Elladan/somebody else (male)
Warnings: mpreg and revolting food cravings
Thanks go to: The Magic Rat, Nic, MajorClanger, Anand (official bad influence), Kharessa, Lyric, and all the gentle souls who have sent feedback for the previous stories.
CHAPTER 5
ERESTOR AND FIN
performed by Lord Glorfindel
music and chorus: Lindir and the Lindon 5
Erestor and me, we were lovers
Ai Varda! We argued and loved
We swore we'd be true to each other
Just as true as stars above
But I'm a rogue - he caught me doing him wrong.
Erestor came looking to find me
He was angry and in for a row!
And in his sweet and loving hands
He held a top class Galadhrim bow
It was my fault, I've been doing him wrong
Chorus:
Well Erestor walked in the garden
And right there, for all plain to see
Was his beloved Glorfindel
Being kissed by Lady Firinwë!
Fin was his Elf, and he caught him doing him wrong.
Erestor, I beg, please don't kill me
Though death I surely deserve
But I'd return from Mandos anyway
So that arrow would go to waste
I am your Elf, I know I have done you wrong.
Chorus:
Erestor considered his options
He didn't want Fin to be dead
So he decided to punish another
And got rid of the lady instead
Fin was his elf, you better not forget!
* * *
It is bad if you live in a place where Orcs are too close for comfort.
It is worse if this means you have to carry a sword with you all the time.
But it's a disaster if you are eight months pregnant and find yourself unable to gird your sword belt anymore because you have the figure of a constipated cave troll.
I was getting depressed, but Fin couldn't understand it.
"You look fabulous, darling, and you have to admit, this stomach of yours is most handy for hobbits who seek shelter from the rain …"
Cretin.
One day, while I was floating in the bath, Glorfinkle landed on my stomach for a rest. They say no Elf is an island; the crow thought otherwise.
Ai Elbereth! Why me! Why me!
I threw the sword including sheath and belt in a corner, cursed a blue streak down on Fin's head for getting me in this state, and went to the other room to fetch my bow and quiver.
Not that I was really upset with Fin for turning our dynamic duo into a trio - after all, the training for the actual event had been most pleasant and satisfying, so you will not hear any complaints from my part. But by now I really wished our Elfling would be born soon; I was getting tired and moody, even depressed at times, and I felt increasingly uncomfortable with my appearance.
This aside, our Elfling was of a fiery temper, judging from the kicks and pokes I received. Interestingly enough, our offspring seemed to have a very settled opinion about our kin and friends already; hardly a movement besides a gentle floating could be felt when I was talking to Elrond, or when Glorfindel was near (save for the incident when Fin mentioned in my presence his plans to paint the nursery pink, and our Elfling jerked in what I assumed to be terror).
Happy bouncing occurred in the presence of the twins, and something I can only loosely describe as Uruk'hai battle technique knocked me almost off my feet on the rare occasions where I had to talk to Lady Firinwë.
One of these unpleasant encounters had taken place at Mauburz' shop; the Orc disliked Lady Firinwë with a vengeance, and I still have serious doubts it really was an accident when Mauburz stumbled that day, carrying a two gallon barrel and consequently showering the lady from Lothlórien with Eau de Mordor, so Elrond had to quarantine her for a week and moved her to quarters which were close to the pig stables.
That day, our Elfling rummaged around in my womb like never before. Mauburz, who had brought me a chair to sit on, stated with a smug grin: "You have clever Elfling, nice Master Erestor. Elfling doesn't like stoopid Elf lady."
And, patting my stomach with her paw, she added: "You hear? Elfling growls."
Great. A growling baby. Just the thing I needed.
Cursed be the day Lady Firinwë arrived in Rivendell, taking up my place in the council "...while our dear Master Erestor is on maternal leave" and being busy ever since re-arranging and "modernizing" our ways.
And re-arranging and modernizing she did, by Elbereth!
Galadriel had made it clear in unmistakable terms that the lady should have free reign in everything, and while Elrond winced and ground his teeth, he bowed to her wishes.
We all sat gathered around the table in the morning for breakfast, and found our plates loaded with raw carrots, celery and cucumbers.
"Is this one of your pranks again, my dear sons?" Elrond asked, and gave his twins The Eyebrow.
Elladan and Elrohir shook their heads simultaneously, poking at the vegetables with their forks.
"We would never play pranks on you during breakfast", Elrohir said, and this was true, because Elrond was out of grace with everybody until 10 am, and without a proper breakfast, he could have scared an Orc with his mood.
The Lord of Imladris got up, straightened in all his glory, doing his best to look regal and intimidating.
"Who is responsible for this!" he boomed, and his voice echoed from the walls of the Last Homely House.
"Why me, of course, my dear Lord Elrond", and in came Lady Firinwë, carrying a large tray with various bowls, followed, as usual, by her rat-sized pet dog "Bubu" (don't ask). She put one of the bowls in front of each of us, and we all stared down at the steaming, mud-coloured, sticky and stinky substance they contained.
Elrond looked at the bowl, then up at Lady Firinwë.
"My dear lady," he started, "I would like to..."
"Oh, but you really don't have to thank me," she said, patting his shoulder, "it is a pleasure for me to cook for you. This wonderful meal I will serve you every day from now on; you all have gone a little stout, and we need to get you back in fighting form. Raw vegetables and horsetail-and-wheat-porridge is just the best thing to start your day!"
Haldir, who had winced at the word "stout", made a calming gesture towards Rabbit, whose facial expression clearly indicated that he would prefer to make the lady his breakfast meal. But as usual, he complied with his mate's wishes, and sat down again, grumbling and growling.
The growl was echoed from the other end of the table where Orophin sat, head bowed over the meal and sniffing suspiciously. He poked the bowl with a finger, then said to Rúmil: "It moved. Maybe it's still alive."
Lady Veet, one of King Thrandúil's daughters, whispered to her sister: "Liritar, this looks and smells exactly like the stuff Legolas puts on his face to keep his skin smooth!" Both girls pulled a face and snickered.
Elrond sat in his chair, looking unhappy and miserable.
"Ai, Erestor, nobody knows how I suffer. I have one daughter who ran off with a mortal, one son who spends his days crawling around in bushes, another son who has the healing talents and grace of a goblin, and now I have to eat celery for breakfast. Will my sorrows never end?"
"Do not despair, my lord", I said, in an effort to cheer him up, "it is only temporary. As soon as our Elfling is here, we can send the lady back to Lórien."
Elrond grabbed for a carrot, and waved it in front of my nose.
"Master Erestor, you better hurry up and deliver soon!"
And, taking a bite of the carrot, he added:
"This is NOT a request!"
BuBu howled and hid behind Lady Firinwë's robe, shivering and eyeing Bramble, who sat under the table.
"Ada!" she crowed, and tugged on Haldir's tunic, "My dog breakfast! It run away!"
Welcome to Rivendell, the Least Homely House.
* * *
The last autumn leaves were falling outside, the wind had gotten colder; not gently caressing my skin anymore, but biting and heralding that winter was close, not singing soft songs on warm summer nights, but howling like a ring wraith around the Last Homely House.
When I finally managed to fix my quiver to my back, no easy task with the extra tonnage I was carrying now, and walked down the stairs, I passed Glorfindel's study. He was talking to Elrond, and when I heard my name, I halted my steps and listened. Why was Fin talking about me with Elrond?
"Glorfindel, heed my advise as one of your oldest friends: you must tell Erestor the truth."
Truth? What truth? I stepped closer to the door, and heard Fin sigh.
"Ai, Elrond how could I tell him. Despite his declarations of health, he is not feeling well. How could I burden him with this?"
I heard Elrond pacing up and down, as it was his habit when nervous.
"Erestor has a right to know, Glorfindel. How can you share your life with him if you don't share this? The truth might hurt sometimes, but it is always preferable to silence - or a lie."
"He will despise me when I tell him, how could he not, when he learns what I have done?"
A cold hand was squeezing my heart together. Had Fin…? No, this couldn't be. Fin would never...
"Do not torment your heart anymore, Glorfindel. It may sound cruel, but these things do happen, and we must learn to live with them. Erestor loves you with all his heart, this I know for sure. He will understand."
The two walked to the back of the study, and I couldn't understand their conversation anymore.
My head was spinning. Sure I had misheard; this was nothing but a misunderstanding. Fin would never lie at me. He would never... cheat on me?
I leant to the next wall, clutching my bow. Unbidden pictures entered my head; Lady Firinwë, smiling at Fin with that brilliant smile of hers, touching his arm in passing, whispering to him, kissing him, the two of them laughing... laughing about me?
Stop being a fool, Erestor, I chided myself, you are seeing things. It was most probably a completely harmless matter.
I did my best to ignore that nagging doubt in my heart and the little voice in my head that kept on telling me that the guilt in Fin's voice must have a reason, and stepped out into the garden.
A dark cloud settled on my mind. I felt melancholic. Nature was preparing to go to sleep, the cheerfulness of summer was gone, and maybe it was also this confrontation with the circle of life that made me shiver: the leaves were falling, withering away, soon to be nothing but dust under our feet, while a new life prepared to come into this world. A dangerous world it was, but also a beautiful one.
I put one hand on my stomach, and said: "Do not worry, my little Elfling, your Ada and I will take care of you. And in the next winter, we three will dance in the snow." I felt the baby lean into my touch, and despite everything, I smiled.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Master Melpomaen, one of Elrond's younger advisors, who came stomping up the path, fuming like a Balrog.
"Master Erestor! When is your Elfling due? Hopefully soon; one more day with this Lothlórien shrew, and another kin slaying can be added to the history books!"
"There, there, Melpomaen", I tried to soothe, "pray tell, what has happened?"
"Haven't you heard?" he howled, waving his hands in the air.
"She has ordered me to paint Lord Elrond's chambers!"
"Ai, but Melpomaen, a little bit of fresh colour can't do much harm," I answered, not really understanding how a pot of paint could make our usually so calm and well-mannered advisor lose his countenance.
"She is painting the chambers in PASTELS!" he cried, wringing his hands.
This was bad. Carrots and celery Elrond might have forgiven her, for Galadriel's sake. But pastels?
"Melpomaen, have you already tried to talk to Lady Firinwë about this? Maybe you could convince her to..."
"No disrespect, my lord," Melpomaen interrupted me, "but I really don't see the point of talking. Give me a sword, and I solve the problem in a few seconds."
I shook my head.
"Ai, Melpomaen, don't say such things, not even in jest!"
"Who says I was jesting?" Melpomaen growled. "Don't tell me you haven't considered this solution yourself at one time or the other."
I crinkled my nose, thinking of one bright sunny afternoon when I had walked in on Glorfindel and Lady Firinwë in the garden, supposedly "discussing the guard schedule". That evening, me and Fin had had a horrible fight. For the life of me I couldn't see of what benefit the making of flower-chains to decorate Lady Firinwë's hair was regarding the boarder guards.
"What do you two intend to do when the Orcs attack," I had screamed at Fin, "thwart them with daisies? Why not shoot them with cauliflower, would be more effective!"
"I could also use the pumpkin you have resting on your neck, Erestor!"
Despite this unpleasant memory and the uncomfortable conversation I'd overheard just a few minutes ago, I answered: "No, I most certainly haven't."
This was not really a lie, as I had indeed never thought of hunting down the most charming Lady Firinwë with a sword.
I was more thinking in the lines of bow and arrow ...
* * *
... Interlude – 3 months earlier ...
"Have you never made flower chains as an Elfling, my lady?" Fin asked, the chain of sweet-smelling roses slightly swinging on his index finger.
Lady Firinwë smiled.
"Sure I have, my lord - as you say: when I was an Elfling. But I am well past the age of flower-chains or equal silliness."
Fin rolled his eyes, ignored the protests of the beautiful lady from Lórien, and placed the flower chain on her head. He folded his arms, mustered his artwork and nodded.
"This is most becoming to your lovely face, my dear. And we have the duty to be silly, the older we get. If we don't oil those little wheels in our heads which make us do unwise and childish things, they start to rust and might as well squeak one day."
She joined in the laughter, and put her hand on his. He was splendid, this legendary Glorfindel of Gondolin - a warrior with the light heart of a child, a toy and a deadly weapon at the same time.
His reputation was legendary - she had never heard of another Elf who had been married and divorced five times. Their kind used to bond for life, and it hardly ever happened that a couple parted - and yet five times! She wondered what kind of demon was hunting Glorfindel, for that he must have one was clear to her, the knowledge only adding to the fascination.
And this aside, it could not be denied that he was certainly most handsome. Firinwë wasn't inexperienced in the art of love, an art she regarded as a game like the hunt, and she was a fine hunter, never letting a kill pass, and not even Lord Celeborn had been able to refuse her.
Lord Glorfindel was certainly a prey worth of her skills. She hardly wasted a thought on the pale, thin, ill looking Elf who hushed through the Last Homely House like a shadow, claiming to be Fin's mate - a pregnant male Elf, who had ever heard of such a thing!
Whatever Erestor was - he certainly couldn't be counted among the first born. Glorfindel probably enjoyed the novelty of it - and after all, he didn't have an heir. But at the end of the day, Erestor was a nuisance she would easily get rid of. She intended to offer her services as a guardian for the Elfling - once she had a hand on the cradle, she had a hand on Glorfindel's heart, and Erestor, who was not a dimwit, would see that there was no place for him here.
"Pray tell - what are you thinking about, my lady? You have a very smug smile on your lovely lips ..." Fin joked.
"Just - thinking of a game I enjoy playing, my lord."
"A game? Now that sounds more like fun - what game is it?"
She smiled dreamily.
"Ai - it's a very old game - as old as our kin. Shall I show you how to play it?"
Before Fin could answer, she had bowed forward, rested her hands on his shoulders and kissed him.
Fin gave into the kiss. Maybe it was because of his surprise, maybe it was because old habits are the hardest to get rid off, but for a brief moment, he returned the kiss. When they parted, he well noticed the triumph in her eyes, and he frowned.
"My dear lady - you should not waste your favors on a good for nothing scoundrel like me." he said, and adding in a most serious tone: "A good for nothing scoundrel who has a mate he loves more than his life."
Firinwë shook her head.
"You can't be serious, Glorfindel. You are an Elf lord, your family is one of the oldest in Middle Earth. You are a hero and a legend - do not try to convince me that you intend to waste more time than necessary on this... abnormality."
Fin growled, and she shied back. The change in his face was scary - this was not the charming, always joking Fin anymore, this was Glorfindel of Gondolin, who had slain the Balrog. Flames were dancing in his eyes, and his hands pressed painful in her upper arms.
Before Fin could say something, an arrow shot the flower chain off of Firinwë's head. They both jumped up, Fin grabbing for his sword to fight off the attacker.
It was Erestor.
And by the Valar, Fin had never seen anyone more regal, beautiful and deadly as Erestor, clad in black, bow in hand, three crows hovering above his head, eyes dark with anger, enhancing the paleness of his skin. He didn't look at Fin; his eyes were focused on Firinwë, who was still shocked, staring at the flower chain which was nailed to a tree by Erestor's arrow.
"You look well suited, like you came to win," Erestor said, his voice completely calm, and all the more frightening.
"Erestor ..." Fin began, but Erestor cut him off with a simple gesture of his hand, not even looking at him.
He cocked his head, and pointed with his bow at Lady Firinwë.
"Do not touch my sweet prince."
With that, Erestor turned on his heel, and walked away.
Fin looked at Lady Firinwë, who had turned a paler shade of green.
"I apologize - I should not have been a willing participant in this game, even if it was for just a second. I beg your forgiveness for this weakness of mine, and I hope he will forgive me as well. But my lady," Fin continued, "do not dare ever, whether in my presence or not, to insult my beloved again. For by the Valar, should you dare to, you will find yourself in a situation where you will beg the Valar to have mercy and let you enter Mandos' Halls."
With that, he grabbed his cloak, and left the place, running after Erestor.
Lady Firinwë took a deep breath.
"Very well then," she said to herself, "back to Lord Elrond."
Being the Lady of Imladris was much more promising than being the 7th Mrs. Glorfindel, anyway.
* * *
I've had enough for one day, finished my walk and returned to our chambers. Glorfindel was already back, sitting at the desk, bowed over a document, writing. When I entered, he quickly opened the lid of the desk and hid the letter inside.
The nagging voice was back. What was he hiding from me? He was having secrets. Why? And more important: what?
"You are back, darling, thanks the Valar. I was getting worried."
He got up, and hugged me tight. Then he caressed my cheek, softly, so softly, and looked at me with an intensity I had never seen before.
"Please, do not go out anymore without me, my love. The woods are not safe anymore, and I am worried. So many things can happen, so quickly, and I can't bear the thought that any harm could befall you."
There was something in his voice - a desperation I hadn't known in him before, and it scared me. I felt like there was a door in his heart that I hadn't opened yet, and I feared what I might find there.
For Fin had changed. The closer the assumed date of the birth came, the more he got restless, and worried. Many nights, I woke up only to find him gone. In the beginning, I had been scared, even attempted to look for him, but Rabbit, who inexplicably always seemed to be where I was, had assured me that Fin was alright, and had answered my pleas to tell me where he was only with a vague gesture in direction of the woods.
What was it that drove Fin out of our home? What haunted him so much he didn't even dare to tell me? More than once I had fought with myself over whether or not to ask him, but there was something in his eyes which pleaded not to ask, and so I had never tackled the subject.
Right now, he nipped on my ear, and as usual, coherent thought fled me, so I decided to let the case rest for the moment, and gave in to his touch and scent and love.
* * *
The following day, I headed for the Healing House to suffer my weekly examination. With Elrond being busy, I was not exactly frolicking at the prospect of Elladan the Butcher Boy waiting with cold hands and a weakly suppressed lust to cut me open to still his thirst for knowledge, but alas, if I didn't go there willingly, Glorfindel, or worse, Mauburz would carry me to the Healing House. It had happened before, and I had no wish to see this embarrassing event repeated. This aside, Elladan was better than his reputation, and he was genuinely looking forward to our little Elfling.
Elladan was busy applying some kind of woodsy smelling ointment to a bruise on Orophin's back, and was happily chattering away, his gossiping only interrupted by agreeing growls from the Galadhrim, who looked rather smug.
I frowned. Coming to think of it, Orophin had managed to obtain quite a few bruises ever since he was here, and strangely enough his injuries always happened when Elladan was on duty in the Healing House. Was it ever possible that…?
But no. I shook my head and chided myself for being silly. Even the thought was too ridiculous. Or was it not?
My thoughts were interrupted by Elladan's light voice greeting me.
"Come in, Erestor, I shall be finished in a minute."
Elrond's heir wiped off his hand on a towel, and Orophin slipped back in his tunic.
"It should hurt less by this evening. If you should still feel any discomfort, just call again."
Orophin nodded, gave Elladan a look which was decidedly doting, bowed his head in my direction and then slipped out of the door, leaving me alone with my nemesis.
"Hop in the tin, sardine!" he quipped, and patted the examination bed.
I groaned.
"Elladan, the only thing you are worse in than healing is jesting."
He grinned, far away from being offended.
"Aw, I love you too, Erestor. Just wait, once your Elfling is born, you will have become so used to my presence you will spend your nights weeping because you miss me so much."
I rolled my eyes, sat on the bed and started to unbutton my tunic, while Elladan washed his hands in the small basin on the wall and happily hummed a tune.
The melody triggered something; a memory, distant, like fading fog on an autumn morning.
"I know this melody - what song is this?" I asked.
Elladan giggled.
"Oh, it is just a silly ditty Glorfindel used to sing to us when we were wee Elflings," he replied over his shoulder, "do you know it? I have forgotten the lyrics, something about horses ..."
"Yes," I answered, "yes, I have heard it before ..."
* * *
Flashback Erestor
"Now come here, there is no reason to be shy, and I heard you quite a while ago."
The warrior sat under a beech in the grass and was carving on a piece of wood - an occupation which he interrupted now to wave the small Elfling closer to him.
Erestor kept on plucking the leaves off the flowers he had collected, unsure on how to proceed. His nana finally gave him a small pat on the backside, and shooed the child forward.
"Now be a good boy and go over to the kind lord, Erestor - it is impolite to just stand and stare. And maybe you can cheer the poor dear up."
She gave the Elf under the beech a friendly nod, and continued to collect the brambleberries in her wicker basket, secretly relieved to have her youngest out of her braids for a few minutes.
The warrior started carving again, and finally, Erestor's curiosity won the battle over his shyness, and he hesitantly walked over to the figure clad in blue under the tree.
For a while, the child just stood there and watched.
"What are you doing?" he finally asked.
"Carving," the Elf answered.
"What?"
"A horse."
"It is nice."
"Well, thank you, young master Elf, I am glad to hear you like this exquisite work of art."
The warrior gave Erestor a smile, and the Elfling lost a bit of his shyness. But my, this Elf was tall! Taller than Ada, who already looked like a giant to 6 year old Erestor. He was quite happy the warrior was not standing right now, for he sure must be an intimidating sight.
"I like horses." Erestor finally said. Due to the two missing front teeth, it sounded more like "hodded", but the Elf seemed to understand it, anyway.
"Now, who doesn't," he commented.
"My sister."
"Your sister doesn't like horses? Now how can that be."
"She is stupid."
The warrior suppressed a smile, remembering his own "fondness" for his older sister millennia back.
"Now, now. I am sure she is very nice."
"No. She pulls my braids."
"Yes, I guess that's one of the less favorable activities sisters tend to indulge in, and I am most afraid, young master Elf, that you will have to grin and bear it. Pray to the Valar she gets married soon, that's the only thing you can do."
Erestor didn't really understand what his braids had to do with his sister's marriage; secretly he doubted any Elf would be stupid enough to marry his sister. But he was watching with increasing fascination how the sharp knife of the warrior cut into the soft wood, the rough form of the animal becoming defined more and more, finally taking the shape of a steed.
"Pray tell, penneth, what is your name?" the warrior asked, without looking up.
"Erestor."
"Is this your given mother's name?"
"Mhm."
"She chose wisely."
The warrior gave a short bow, mocking the greetings among nobles, and said; "Most pleased to meet you, young master Erestor. I am Lord Glorfindel, chief of the House of the Golden Flower, but special friends, like you, may call me Fin."
"Fin!"
Erestor giggled.
"Fin! Fin! Fin! I like that!"
"I am most pleased to hear you approve of my name."
He gave the child a warm smile, then he said:
"If you like horses, you sure know this song, Erestor:
'Horsey, Horsey, don't you stop
Just let your feet go clipity clop
Your tail goes swish
And the wheels go round
Giddy up, we're homeward bound'"
Erestor nodded eagerly.
"Yes, I know it! Nana sings it when I go to sleep! Sing again!"
"Your wish is my order!"
Glorfindel's light voice carried through the wood, and Erestor clapped his hands, smashing the flowers he had previously collected. For a while, the child just sat in the grass, watching the carving to process and listening to Glorfindel humming.
Finally, the warrior put the knife back in its sheath, watched his work critically, then he handed it over to Erestor.
"Here, penneth - that's for you. It shall serve as a substitute till the time comes you will get your own mount."
The Elfling stared first at Glorfindel, then at the wooden horse with absolute amazement.
"My horse? For me?"
Glorfindel laughed.
"Yes, penneth, for you - just promise me not to hit your sister with it, will you."
Erestor took the horse, and clutched in tightly to his chest.
"Oh thank you! Thank you - Fin!" he added, and beamed up to the warrior, who smiled back.
Erestor was still only a wee Elfling, but he already recognized the sadness behind this smile, and he felt a pang of guilt - maybe the kind Elven lord had carved the horse for somebody else and only gave it to him now because he wanted to be polite?
"And I can keep it? Really?" he asked, "don't you have your own Elfling who would like it?"
Never in his short life had Erestor seen sadness like the one that was now apparent on the warrior's face. Glorfindel ruffled his hair, and gently stroked his cheek.
"No, my little pixie - I have no little Elfling."
Resting his large hand on the child's shoulder, he added;
"Not anymore."
With that, he got up, and, giving the little one a last smile, disappeared in the woods.
* * *
I quickly slipped off the bed.
"Wait, I haven't finished yet!" Elladan protested.
"I know - I am sorry, penneth, I need to check on something, and it is urgent."
With that, I buttoned my tunic back up, and hasted out of the room, running back to the Last Homely House and up the stairs to my chambers, taking three steps on once.
Back in my study, I knelt down by a small chest, holding the few belongings my mother had managed to pack for me when I had to flee Gondolin, leaving my ada, nana, my sister and my home behind, not knowing back then that I would never see them again, becoming a refugee without roots like so many of my kin. I had never dared to look into this chest ever since - too painful were the memories connected with its content.
But now I flipped the lid of the chest open without a second thought, rummaging through books, illuminations, some jewelry, till I finally, in the left bottom corner, found what I had been looking for.
I held the small bundle for a moment and took a deep breath. Then I gently freed the object from its protective hull, a green baby's blanket with embroidery of yellow and red flowers.
In my hand, small now, and dark with age, lay a beautifully carved horse.
"Fin." I whispered, and pressed the toy to my heart.
"Dear, dear Fin."
* * *
Can Erestor guess Fin's secret? Can Elrond escape the clutches of Lady Firinwë? Do carrion crows like rat sized dogs? How long will it take for Elladan to see what really causes Orophin's discomfort? And when will this most splendid Elfling finally be born?
This and more in episode 2579 of "The Young and the Orcless" - stay tuned...
* * *
Author's notes: Thanks for all the feedback - phew! I hope I didn't forget to thank anybody personally; I was surprised that Elladan and Orophin have so many friends, and yes, you will hear more of them. Thanks to all those gentle souls on the EOAS tag board who provided the most splendid inspiration.
Very special thanks go out to the most splendid Magic Rat for betaing this thingy. Consider yourself hugged.
Erestor's and Glorfindel's Elfling will be born in the next chapter, so keep your tissues handy, it's going to be an emotional affair.
I also took the liberty to smuggle a little "Placebo" reference in this chapter here. Tell me if you find it. ;-)
Ah, before I forget it: "Erestor and Glorfindel" is a spoof on "Frankie and Johnnie". That song is almost a traditional, sung by a gazillion of people. I spoofed Elvis' version.
And last but not least: "penneth" means "young one" (or little one. or something different altogether.)