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.
Author's note: You will encounter links which lead you to other stories. While it's not a "must" to read them to understand this chapter, they might add a little background information.
CHAPTER 6
"How about 'Lúthien'?"
"No."
"'Arwen'?"
"Forget it."
"'Melanthia'?"
"'Dark flower'? What if she's a blonde?"
"Then we shall call her 'Galadriel'."
"Are you insane?"
"You are most difficult to please, my heart."
"Fin - by the Valar, for the last time: it might as well be a male. And you must admit that being called 'Galadriel' could be a tad bit embarrassing or our son."
"But she has a very masculine walk."
"Oaf."
"Old crow."
"Can I expect any kind of intelligent name suggestions, or shall I take this matter at hand myself?"
"Mauburz thinks nice name for nice lords' wee baby Elfling be 'Rupert the Naggler'. Good name."
"Rupert the Naggler?!?"
"Yes. Very good name for wee baby Elfling. Would be first Elf called Rupert."
No doubt.
"My dear Mauburz, I delight in the prospect of introducing my son, Rupert the Naggler, to my friends. And how I will enjoy our daily life in future - 'Rupert! Finish your breakfast Lembas! Rupert! Your chamber needs to be tidied!"
Fin laughed, and I shook my head. At the pace this discussion was processing, our poor wee Elfling would be old enough to choose a name him- or herself by the time we had come to an agreement.
Our resident Orc crossed her arms over her impressive bosom and showed signs of sulking.
"Mauburz still thinks Rupert is nice name. If not like it, you can take 'Montague'. Very nice name, too."
At this point, I decided it was time to leave the shop, tucked secretly on Fin's sleeve and we bid our farewell to Mauburz, who was still suggesting one "very nice" Orcish name after the other.
I slowly started to understand why Orcs always were in a bad mood.
When we stepped out in the fresh air, Fin said: "But you must admit, Brünhyldë' would be a formidable name for our daughter!"
"Next time you get pregnant and suffer through 10 months of agony, then you can call our offspring any name you like," I growled.
Fin hugged me, and planted a wet kiss on my cheek.
"Thank you, oh sun of my life. So Brünhyldë it shall be!"
We made a beeline for Master Elfar's carpenter shop. Fin had ordered the furniture for the nursery, as usual without consulting me first, and he refused to tell me anything about it, claiming it to be a 'surprise'. But now, with only a week or so to go till the birth, he decided to show me what our future Elfling's little nest would look like. As a long-time connoisseur de bon surprises Fin I braced myself for a nightmare in pink, laces and lavender bows.
"Ai, yer lordships! How good ta see ya!"
Elfar greeted Fin, and bowed his head in my direction with a friendly smile. Elfar, like me and Fin, was a Gondolin refugee, though way older than us, had never given up his thick accent and was a master in the art of carving.
Unfortunately, he also had a great skill in the art of drinking, a talent which interfered at times with his work, but once he started on a piece, his mind was focused on this task only, and he had, over the centuries, created some of the most beautiful furniture in Rivendell, among them Elrond's bed, Arwen's vanity and the house for Elladan's dog.
"How is the work processing, Master Elfar?" Fin asked.
"Ai, I'm almost done, if yer lordships care ta follow me to ta workshop, I shall show ya my work."
He led the way to the back of the shop, and I inhaled deeply the scent of wood and resin. My father had been a carpenter by trade, too, and this scent always reminded me of my childhood days.
In the middle of the room, an object, covered by a white linen sheet to keep the dust away, stood on a work bench. With an elegant move, Elfar tore the sheet off, a bit like a wizard who reveals the rabbit in his hat and before us stood one of the most beautiful artworks I had ever seen.
It was a swinging cradle, made out of honey oak, with beautiful ornaments of leaves and berries on the front, ranking around the arms of The House of the Golden Flower and The House of the Circling Raven. The headboard, however, was topped by a masterfully carved crow, holding something in its beak. When I stepped closer, I saw that it was a small basket with blackberries.
I was deeply touched, turned around and hugged Fin.
"Oh Fin - this is so beautiful! I wish I was an Elfling myself, so I could sleep in this gem!"
He laughed, and gently hugged me back, the mushy scenery observed by Master Elfar, who obviously was delighted that his work had found so thorough an appreciation.
"I thought, well ..." Fin said, and shuffled his feet, "...the blackberries symbolize the time when I was pining after you and you were too heartless and dense to notice ..."
I whacked him gently behind his ears.
"You could have sped up the process by not leaving dead Wargs on my bed, Fin."
"The Warg was not from me, my dear", he grinned, "all credit for this tasteful present goes to Master Fenrir."
I groaned.
"Why am I cursed with suitors who have no idea how to charm an Elf?" I whined, and Fin hugged me again, placing a quick peck on my cheek.
"Because you are such a beast, that's why. Would you like to stay here and see the other things Master Elfar has created for our Elfling? I have to hurry or I will be late for my meeting with Elrond."
He didn't mention Lady Firinwë, something I was most grateful for, and I nodded.
"Sure, I would love to see what other gems are waiting for me", I said, and Fin blew me a kiss, turned on his heel and left the shop.
When the door shut close behind him, I returned my attention back to Master Elfar, who was beaming with pride on his craftsmanship.
"I am most pleased to hear ya like ta cradle, Master Erestor", he said, polishing the wood lovingly with a rag, "and if I may say so, me wife and I are looking very much forward to see young life again in ta Last Homely House."
"You are very kind, Master Elfar", I replied, still gazing at the beautiful cradle.
He kept on polishing, explaining how he had spent days to find the right wood and where he got the wax to polish the piece from. I nodded, hearing my ada talk, who had always presented me for my begetting days with wonderful toys like a rocking horse or small carved animals.
"Ai, Master Erestor,'t is the second cradle I made for Lord Glorfindel, and I hope it won't be the last!"
My head shot up, and I stared at the other Elf.
"The second cradle? Why - has he ordered another one?"
Elfar paled visibly, fiddled with the rag and stuttered: "Did I say second? I beg yer pardon, Master Erestor, t' was only a slip of speech, no, of course not, why would one need two cradles,'t is just this one, dear lord, my apologies, I was speaking about ta bed I plan to carve for yer wee Elfling once ta wee one has grown out of ta cradle."
He quickly hasted to the next room, and I followed him, admiring the delicate furniture for the nursery, but at the same time I had the feeling that something important had happened, that I had missed crucial information.
I sighed. It was about time the wee one was born and things could go back to normality.
* * *
Halfway on back to the Last Homely House, I sat down on a big stone by the gardens. Walking or any kind of movement had become increasingly exhausting, my back and my legs hurt, and so I decided to rest a little before I returned to our chambers to take a nap.
It was not until a few moments later that I heard muffled giggling.
I looked around, but couldn't see anybody close by. Had I misheard?
I shook my head, and made to get up when I heard the giggling again.
This time there was no doubt: somebody sat behind me in the bushes and giggled.
With a quick move, I stuck my arm up to my shoulder in the shrubbery, grabbed for the squirming life form I found there and dragged it out of the bush.
It was Elrohir. A very embarrassed Elrohir, looking ruffled, with leaves in his hair, tunic open and cheeks flushed crimson.
Surprised, I let go of his collar, and looked at him disapprovingly.
"Elrohir! What nonsense is this! How long will we have to endure your fruitless hunt for your imagined intruder?" I barked, and he stared at the tips of his boots, kicking a pebble in the go.
"This is a most undignified behaviour for a son of Lord Elrond, Elrohir. Have you forgotten all I taught you? I demand this stops now. You are becoming the laughing stock of Rivendell."
Elrohir still didn't answer, but looked back over his shoulder every other second, obviously very nervous.
I put my hand on his shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"Elrohir," I said in a milder voice, "believe me when I say that there is nothing in the bushes."
"Ahem ... actually, this is not quite correct, Master Erestor ..." said a voice from behind Elrohir, and when I looked over his shoulder, I saw a pretty Elf maid emerging from the bushes. She was clad in greens and browns, and there were leaves and red berries sticking in her auburn hair.
Elrohir turned even more crimson than before, and started to fiddle around with his belt, while I gasped for breath and tried to win back my composition.
"Elrohir!" I finally boomed, and tried to look intimidating, which was no easy task considering my baby gut, but I did the best I could.
"Who is this, and what is she doing in the bushes? And, even more importantly, what are YOU doing there?"
Elrond's youngest cleared his throat, and loosened his collar.
"Master Erestor, this is Lady Eldanorien. Lady Eldanorien, this is Master Erestor."
The girl stood up, and curtsied.
"Very pleased to meet you", she said, not shy at all.
"I wish I could say the same, my lady", I growled, and, directing Elrohir again: "I am still waiting to hear your explanation, Elrohir, alas with an ever growing impatience."
He shrugged.
"Ai... we met when I was scouting along the border to Mirkwood... her father doesn't like us much, what with the whole Oropher-incident and Gil-galad and everything... she came to see me, fell in the bushes and got a bruise, so I got some of Ada's ointment..."
He broke off, setting his jaw defensively.
"I was only trying to help!" he said, and pouted.
"Elrohir", I said, "I hope you are not trying to convince me that you and Lady Eldanorien have spent the last four months sitting in the bushes of the Last Homely House treating her bruises! Do you deem me a fool?"
The girl stepped in front of Elrohir, as if to protect him. She crossed her arms over her chest, and glared at me.
"What is wrong with sitting in bushes? I am a Woodland Elf - we like plants!"
"This, my dear," I replied, "is more a case of fruits than of plants. Does your father know you are here?"
She looked a little guilty.
"I always told him I went to visit my aunt, but I came here to see Elrohir."
She gave him an adoring smile, and he smiled back equally doting, taking her hand in his, and then gave me a pleading look.
"Please, Master Erestor - don't tell ada! He will be very mad at me, and certainly forbid us to see each other!"
Seeing my reluctance, Elrohir got out the big weapons, made puppy eyes, batted his lashes and even added The Quivering Under lip, which beat me every time, so I sighed and gave in.
"Alright, Elrohir. But I insist that, if you are serious about this, you will talk to your father when the time comes. If you truly care about her, you must also have the courage to stand up for your love."
Elrohir nodded, and, pointing at the Elf maid, I said: "And this goes also for you and your father, young lady."
Elrohir hugged me, which he hadn't done in a long time.
"Thank you so much, Master Erestor. Ada - I love him dearly, and I trust him, please do not doubt this, but - he is so formal, he would never understand that we are - bushing."
I had to hide a grin, and waved the two culprits off.
"Off, off, you annoying Elflings, before I change my mind!"
They both smiled at me, then disappeared in the shrubbery again.
And I walked back to the Last Homely House, remembering quite lividly an incident involving Elrond, Gil-Galad, a hazel bush and a completely shocked Thrandúil, who had interrupted whatever actions had been in process.
Maybe Lord Elrond was a hopeless case when playing Toblero - but when it came to bushing, he was an expert.
* * *
They days passed by. The date Elrond had calculated as the one for the birth was approaching, and my level of nervousness was reaching new heights. I had nightmares, dreamed of all the things that could go wrong during birth, started awake more than once bathed in sweat, and it took Fin hours to sooth and calm me down. It didn't escape me, though, that he was at unease as well, and he consulted Elrond on a twice-daily basis to ask if there was any news.
He also tried to talk to Rabbit, but our wild thing was most unhelpful.
"This is Erestor's business. You let him do what needs to be done, and everything will be good." he used to say, and neither pleading nor shouting from Fin's part could change his mind.
I asked Haldir how Rabbit had treated him when Bramble had been on the way, and the Galadhrim frowned, trying to remember.
"Let me see"; he said, and counted on his fingers, "he bit me four or five times, then there was the day when he broke my arm - it was an accident, though - he smashed my nose twice - again, not with intend - and yes, there were a couple of bruises, too. Oh yes, and a broken collarbone."
I snickered, and Fin swallowed hard.
"Haldir, no disrespect meant, but I have to ask: what attracts you so much to Rabbit?"
Haldir shrugged, and his face took on a dreamy expression.
"Oh, there are many things - but his most endearing features are his kind spirit and gentle nature."
Later, when we sat in the bath, I talked with Fin about it, and he suggested I should wear a muzzle for the time being.
I whacked him with a washing cloth.
I loved the water, I felt so light and my poor back got a rest. Fin giggled, then he stared at my stomach, and frowned.
"Darling, did you hurt yourself?"
I cocked an eyebrow.
"No, why do you ask?"
He traced a finger over my abdomen, and I moved away, feeling sore, and it was a most unpleasant sensation.
"There is a welt or a scratch, I can't really tell. You need to show Elrond, love."
Ah.
"Fin, it's not a scratch. That's where our Elfling will come out soon - I hope."
He gave me a most puzzled look.
"There? You mean - out of your belly?"
"Of course. What did you think?"
Fin looked rather sheepish, and I suddenly knew what he had been thinking.
"Fin! By the Valar! Where do you get these ideas from?" I cried, and shook my head.
He shrugged.
"What do I know about these things - I have to admit, though, that I really prefer this way. I had some ... rather disturbing theories."
I gave him a stern look.
"Fin. Whatever you do: do not share these theories with me."
He grinned, and kissed my belly button.
"No, darling. I shall discuss them during the next council. These meetings are always so boring."
This didn't leave me any other option but grabbing for his braids and dipping him under water.
* * *
Everybody was waiting eagerly for the birth - not only because most residents were looking honestly forward to the new life that would arrive soon, but also because the arrival of our Elfling meant the departure of Lady Firinwë, who had developed from a nuisance into a full blown crisis.
She hadn't stopped at painting Elrond's chambers in pastels. She obviously also thought that Elrond's bed needed some new accessories, like, for example, her own illustrious persona, and for the last month she had done her best and worst to wrap our Lord around her finger and in her net.
It was difficult to tell if her efforts bore any fruits. We all knew that Elrond was lonely, but he had loved his wife very, very much, and was missing her a lot - it would take a special Elf to take her place, and we all prayed to the Valar that "special" meant "kind, gentle, loving, loyal", not "Lady Firinwë".
Her tactics were clever, I had to admit. It was as if she was reading his mind (and knowing her, I wouldn't put that beyond her): when he felt thirsty, she came running with a glass of sweetest wine, when he felt a pang of hunger, she turned up with a platter of fruits, and while we all got the sharp side of her tongue, she was honey and roses around him, smiling and flirting. Her cleavage expanded exponentially to the length of her visits in Elrond's study, and she had taken to "incidentally" touch him when she passed by.
It was sickening.
We found it increasingly difficult to stay at least courteous, and Mauburz didn't even try. When Firinwë turned up at the shop to buy Elrond's massage oil, which our Orc mixed together especially for him ("Nuits sensuelles"), Mauburz growled at her and let her know that "Mauburz not sells nothing to stoopid Elf lady looking like bloated goose."
Lady Liritar, one of Thrandúil's daughters, turned up daily to deliver her reports on the developments in the Last Homely bedchamber. She was, thanks to her ability to hide behind tapestries and lurk under tables as well as a deep affection she harboured for Lord Elrond, my most trusted spy when it came to all things personal regarding our much loved lord, and she supplied me with tales of unspeakable horrors.
"Ai, Master Erestor" she said, wringing her hands, "he is talking about keeping her here! Lord Elrond mentioned what a great help the lady was, and how he enjoyed her company!"
She almost cried, and I admit that I was close to losing my composition as well.
"This is entirely your fault, Master Erestor", Liritar said, looking at me accusingly, "you said I was not allowed to throw her in the Bruinen!"
"This is not quite correct, my child"; I replied, "I never said you should not throw her in the Bruinen, I only said you are not allowed to drown her. By now I think a little bath could only be helpful to cool her temper."
I was pacing up and down my study, thinking of a way to get rid of the Lórien nuisance, and finally stopped my restless wandering to look out of the window. I had a beautiful view on a rarely visited part of the garden. Not much care was taken on the bushes and plants which grew there, it was a place of the past, holding the grave of Estel's mother, and a statue of Gil-galad. Elrond often wandered this part of the garden alone, dwelling in the past, and we respected his wish for privacy and solitude.
The statue of Gil Galad.
Of course.
Why hadn't I thought of this before.
I turned on my heel, and looked at Liritar, who chewed on one of her braids.
"My dear Lady Liritar," I said, "wouldn't it be about time to show Lady Firinwë Lord Elrond's Gil-galad-thimble-collection? As she seems to be an Elf of great taste and keen on redecorating the Last Homely House, she would surely appreciate it to be allowed a peek at these - gems."
Liritar looked at me as if I had lost my mind.
"Lord Elrond's thimble collection? Why - but you know it is absolutely prohibited to even get near the glass cupboard!"
I laughed, and rubbed my hands gleefully.
"Ai, Liritar - but we really should not keep Lady Firinwë away from sharing Lord Elrond's greatest treasures. As she obviously has set her mind on becoming the new lady of Imladris, it is nothing but fair if she learns what is part of the deal."
An evil grin spread over Liritar's face.
"Master Erestor - I bow in awe in front of your wisdom. Lord Elrond chose wisely when he made you his chief advisor. And ada was so right when he said you were a snake."
Before I could comment on this compliment and express my feelings for King Thrandúil, she bowed, and sped out of the door, and I heard her whistle in the corridor.
There could be no doubt: Mirkwood had just declared war on Lothlórien.
* * *
It was a short-lived war - it ended the very same afternoon.
Words like these had never been heard in the halls of the Last Homely House. Words which would have made a Balrog blush. Mothers were covering the ears of their children, maidens fainted and Liritar and I were shaking hands, slapping each other's back and congratulating ourselves on our cunningness.
We hastily rushed out of the library and ran down the stairs as fast as my condition allowed, robes flying behind us, for we would have never forgiven ourselves if we had missed the exorcism of Lady Firinwë.
The whole court was gathered in the great hall when Elrond came storming down the stairs, one of Lady Firinwë's bags under each arm and carrying hold-alls in his hands, cursing and swearing like a Gondorian border guard.
He was followed by a much distressed Lady Firinwë, who wrung her hands and tried to stop him, as well as by Orophin and Rúmil, who snickered and carried more bags. BuBu was completing the procession, barking like crazy.
"Elrond ... please ... Rondy ...!" the lady cried, but Elrond didn't even slow down his stride.
"Don't you 'Rondy' me!!! Out! Out! You evil spirit of denseness! Leave my house, now, and you shall not return as long as I dwell here!" he howled, and kicked the main door open with such power that the door sprang out of its hinges.
"I only tried to make the Last House homelier, Elrond!" she whined, but Elrond had already thrown the bags out in the courtyard, and was now turning around, hair flying, eyes ablaze, not being the wise lord of Imladris any more, but the fierce warrior and Herald to the High King of the days of old.
He looked like he was 8 feet tall, and the Lady shrank almost into the ground when he pointed at her, contempt in his voice.
"There are many rules our kin have to follow, laws which shall not be broken and promises which must be held. I shall not mention oaths. But there is one law above all in this house whose breach I shall never tolerate," he said, and his face was now only an inch away from the one of the terrified Elven lady, "and that is: Thou. Shalt. Not. Touch. My. Thimbles."
He emphasized every word by poking at her shoulder with his finger, and he gave her The Eyebrow.
Finally, he straightened up, and said to Orophin and Rúmil: "Wrap this mess here up and escort her back to Lothlorien. Give Galadriel my regards, and if she has any complaints, she can tell the trees, for I don't care."
With that, he rushed majestically away.
"Right. Fine. I shall return to Lothlórien - it was not my intend to stay among you barbarians, anyway," Lady Firinwë snorted.
"BuBu, come here, we are leaving these peasants."
The rat-sized dog sat on the last step of the stairs, and eyed her thoughtfully.
"BuBu! Come to mommy!" she beckoned.
The dog yawned, then he walked over to the place where Bramble sat on the floor, hopped on the little girl's lap and rolled up in a furry ball, sighing contently.
"Peasants." Lady Firinwë said, "Nothing but peasants."
With that, she left.
We all broke out in spontaneous applause.
* * *
~~~INTERLUDE ~~~
Orophin found Elladan in the Healing House, busy mixing some herbs together in a bowl. When he noticed the Galadhrim, he asked: "Fallen from a tree? Kicked by a horse?"
The Lórien Elf shook his head.
"Nay, Elladan. I came to bid my fare wells. Rúmil and I are leaving, escorting Lady Firinwë back to Lothlórien."
"Oh", Elladan said, and he knew it was not very intelligent, but he didn't really know how to voice this sudden feeling of loss at the prospect of seeing Orophin leave.
For a while, the ancient guardian of the woods and Elrond's clumsy offspring looked at each other, none of them knew what to say. Finally, Elladan cleared his throat, and muttered:
"I hope it shall not be centuries again before our paths cross, Orophin."
The Galadhrim shook his head.
"Nay - I shall return soon. Lord Glorfindel has asked me to become Guardian to his heir."
"You?" Elladan stared at Orophin with eyes like saucers.
"Ai. Why are you surprised, penneth? I have been your guardian, too, and your brother's, have you already forgotten this?
"No. It is just ... I find it so very hard to see you as my guardian anymore, Orophin", Elladan stuttered, and promptly dropped the bowl, which shattered in a thousand pieces on the stone floor.
They both crouched down at the same moment to pick up the shards, and their eyes met. Elladan had one of his days again, wearing two different clasps on his braids. Orophin smiled secretly. How enchanting.
"If you do not see your guardian anymore, who do you see then?"
Elladan took up a lovely darker shade of crimson, and fiddled around with the shards of the bowl, avoiding Orophin's piercing stare.
"I don't know, it's not important, please forget I mentioned it."
Orophin carefully put the shards he had already collected aside, and reached out, gently running the back of his hand down Elladan's cheek. The young Elf looked up in surprise, he didn't understand what was happening here, but he didn't move away from the touch, either, there was just this wide-eyed amazement about Orophin's action.
"I hope that you, one day, will know what you see. Namarie, penneth," Orophin said, bent forward and pressed a soft kiss on Elladan's forehead.
Then he left, and Elladan still sat on the floor, holding the shards of the bowl in his hand, then dropped them carelessly, ran his fingers over the spot on his cheek Orophin had touched him and closed his eyes.
For a long time, Elladan just sat in the dark.
* * *
I stood on the balcony, and watched the sky. A storm was coming, I could smell it in the air and feel it in my blood, and I felt something else, a stirring, a dull pain from my abdomen, and I felt restlessness. I had walked up and down my study all afternoon, feeling like a caged animal, and I longed for the woods, wanted to get away from all those visitors, gathering in Imladris to satisfy their curiosity and see the "miracle Elf".
It was hot. Unbearably hot. Why this? It was supposed to be cold. But I could hardly breathe, the air was stifling, I tore open my collar, and a new wave of pain made me gasp.
There were voices coming from the great hall, muffled by the door, but they disturbed me greatly, I wanted, no, I needed the quiet, solitude. I started to pace again, my skin itching from the heat, the pain increasing, and finally, I couldn't bear it anymore, took my blue cloak and quickly slipped out of the door, stepped down the stairs which lead to the garden on the back of the Last Homely House, and was finally out in the fresh air.
It called to me. I heard it. The wood, I was part of it, and when the first raindrops fell, I closed my eyes and raised my face to the sky, accepting the gift, and a longing I couldn't ignore took me over, a longing to run, run, to the end of the world and time and beyond.
* * *
Fin returned in the evening. He was a little late, as he had searched all of Imladris for strawberries. Erestor loved them, and he wanted to surprise his lover, who had looked awfully tired and worn these last days.
Truth be told, Fin felt a pang of guilt when he thought of Erestor. He knew he should have told his partner about his son, but he just couldn't bring himself to touch the subject. Fin was scared - what if Erestor decided he wasn't worthy to be a father? What if he left him? The prospect of ever being separated from Erestor was something Fin couldn't handle. He had never felt such a strong feeling of belonging to somebody as with Elrond's black haired advisor, and maybe he had known right from the beginning that Erestor would be his true love, otherwise he wouldn't have spent centuries on wooing the stubborn Elf.
He was a little surprised when he entered their chambers and found all windows wide open, the rain, driven by the wind, had left puddles on the floor, and Erestor was nowhere in sight. Fin quickly checked the chambers, and found the blue cloak gone, too.
Puzzled, he left the study. If Erestor had taken the cloak, had he left the house? But no, this was not possible. There was a storm outside, and Erestor would have never endangered their Elfling by going out in such a night.
Fin searched the house from top to bottom, alerting everybody, and finally, Elrond sent out his guards to comb through the garden, fearing Erestor might have fallen somewhere, or fainted, but there was nothing, no sign, not a footprint, and Fin started to panic. Where was Erestor?
By now, the storm was roaring with a terrifying might, but this didn't keep Fin away from searching. Maybe Erestor had left a note somewhere?
Fin looked under the bed, on the night table, he turned every paper in Erestor's study, and when he couldn't find a note, he hastened to the library, hoping to find something, anything, which would tell him where Erestor was.
Fin rummaged through the desk, but all he found were historical scrolls and some letters. He looked up when he heard a thud behind him, turned quickly, but could see nothing but a book that had dropped off a shelf, so he kept on going through the papers.
Thud. Another book fell down.
Thud. Another.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Fin stood frozen on the spot, watching how one book after the other fell off of the shelf, one by one, the whole row, like pushed by an invisible hand. An eerie feeling crawled up his spine, and he made a hesitant step towards the shelves.
There was only one book left standing.
Something told Fin that he had witnessed something most extraordinary, and that this book was of importance, so he took the ancient tome, and it seemed to open in his hands all by itself.
It was about the life and habits of the animals of the forest.
"It is in their nature. They hide. They need to be alone. So they find a hidden place to bear their young ones."
A hidden place to bear their young ones. Of course. Erestor's ancestor had been of Rabbit's kin.
Fin was half crazy with worry, the thought of Erestor being out in the woods, alone in this storm, almost too much to bear for him. He ran through the rain to the stables, saddled Asfaloth and sped out only minutes later into the woods as fast as the horse could manage.
Erestor was out there, and he needed help, Fin could feel it, and he would save his mate or die trying.
* * *
An hour later Fin had to admit that he had gotten lost. The rain was falling down so tightly and heavily that he could hardly see the hand in front of his eyes; it was like a heavy grey curtain had veiled his way. The temperature had dropped even more, the ground had turned into a sticky muddy mass, and he had lost orientation. Fin had called for Erestor till he had no voice anymore, but there was no answer, nothing. Fin's tears started to mix with the rain.
He was soaked to his bones, tired, and desperate. Erestor, dear, darling Erestor, where are you, he asked himself over and over again while he tried to find some point of orientation in the wood. The trees, which he had always regarded as friends and allies, seemed hostile now, their branches reaching out to grab and scratch him, and when one branch tore the sleeve of his tunic, he didn't even notice. He was only driven by his worry and love for Erestor.
Suddenly, there was a light. Fin couldn't make out what it was, but it was a light, like from a lantern, dancing in front of him.
"Hello? Is anybody here?" he shouted against the storm, but there was no answer, only the dancing light.
Fin decided that small hope was better than no hope and to follow the light. The path in front of him was grown over with bushes and shrubbery, and there was no way Asfaloth could get through. Fin descended his mount and led the horse under a huge oak tree.
"No need we both get soaking wet, my friend," he said, and the horse nodded.
"I shall go and look for my darling Erestor, and you shall wait here for my return."
The horse hollered, and Fin followed the light which danced in front of him, almost impatiently, through the wood. He went for what seemed like hours, his soaked clothes clung ice cold to his skin, but Fin didn't care, all he thought of was Erestor, who was somewhere out here, alone, in danger, and the fear drove him forward. He neither noticed the cold wind nor the scratches the branches of small trees and thorns of berry bushes applied to his skin. He kept on walking, repeating Erestor's name over and over, like a prayer, and finally, the light halted in front of the entrance of a cave, half hidden by a blackberry bush.
Fin hastily climbed up the small hill, and finally stood in a cave. The metallic scent of blood hung in the air, and the bitter smell of fear. The small light was dancing over a body hunched up in a corner, gave one final bright flash and then extinguished.
Fin didn't have the time to consider this strange incident, or wonder where the light had come from, he hurried over to the corner and knelt down beside the lifeless figure on the cold stone floor, shaking Erestor and shouting at him to stop playing pranks, stroking his face and kissing him, but there was no reaction, no sound, and when Fin's lips touched Erestor's pale ones, he finally realized that his beloved was not breathing anymore.
A feral scream he didn't know he was capable off escaped Fin's throat, the eerie sound carrying through the woods, humbling the wind, the howling scaring the farmers close by, who closed the windows and locked the doors, praying to the gods to have mercy with the lost soul who was wailing his mourning out in the dark night.
* * *
The garden was beautiful - even more than it had been in my memory, but then, I was but a wee Elfling when I last walked in it, and though this garden had been destroyed millennia ago, together with all other things fair and good in Gondolin, I didn't find it odd that I was walking on these familiar paths now.
It was a beautiful summer day, birds were singing, and a mild breeze tucked on my braids. I felt light and cheerful, and the Elves I met on my way through the garden greeted me friendly and respectfully. A good place, I thought, a place where a troubled soul could find some peace, and peace was all I wanted right now.
A couple of minutes later, I passed a group of young Elves, gathered on soft blankets under a tree. A very fair young one was resting his head on the lap of a beautiful maiden, while two others laughed and joked with him. He gave a quick and obviously witty reply, for the group broke out in laughter, the cheerful sound carrying through the air like bells.
When they saw me, they waved, and I waved back, smiling. The young one, who was the centre of attention and, if I judged the blushing maidens gathered around him correctly, also the centre of attraction, perked up when he saw me, and beckoned me to come closer.
So I left the path, and strolled over the juicy green grass to the small group.
"My dear Erestor - what in Elbereth's name are you doing here?" the young one called, shaking his head disapprovingly.
I was taken aback, and frowned. "Do we know, young master Elf? I can't remember that I have made your acquaintance in the past."
He rolled his eyes, and then he turned to his friends.
"My darlings, be good little maids and leave us alone for a minute, will you? I have some matters of great importance to discuss with advisor Erestor."
He clapped his hands, and the females got up, pouting and sulking, quite unwilling to leave the beautiful Elf out of their hands, but retreating nevertheless, walking over to a small gazebo close by.
"Ai, females - aren't they just the greatest gift the Valar have graced us with?"
I thought briefly of Lady Firinwë and felt a mad desire to disagree, but decided to keep quiet and, when the other patted on the empty space beside him, sat down, gracefully, noting that this was an easy task, as my figure was slight and slim again, just the way it had been before Fin had turned me into a black-haired blob.
Now, sitting so close by my strange new friend, I took the time to look him over carefully.
He was young, hardly past his majority, I assumed, with dark blond hair, loosely held together by a simple blue velvet band, and clad in a blue tunic and black breeches. He was very fair of face, with noble features, but what made him so outstanding was the brightness of his eyes - they were blue, but still radiated a warmth and gentleness which made his whole face shine with an inner light.
"Who are you?" I finally asked, feeling a little uncomfortable under his openly mustering look.
He grinned. A cheeky grin, and one which struck a chord in my heart, reminding me of somebody, but I couldn't place whom.
"Ai, my apologies for my manners - I forgot we haven't been introduced properly yet. My name is Luinil. Have you heard of me?"
He looked at me expectantly, and I combed my memory for the name. Luinil... yes, somebody had mentioned the name once, but whom? And in what connection? For the life of me I couldn't remember.
Luinil shrugged.
"I see - well, I should have known. Ada has never been very communicative when it came to personal matters."
"Ada?" I repeated, looking at him questioningly.
"Glorfindel." he added, a little impatient.
Glorfindel? ADA? I stared at the young Elf open mouthed, and within seconds, all the small pieces of the puzzle clicked in place. So this was Glorfindel's secret - he had had a son in his former life! But why was he here? And why had Fin never told me?
Luinil gave me another one of his disarming smiles, reminding me a lot of Fin, as I now realized, and flopped down on his back.
"Ai, so much to tell, so little time. Look, let's not beat around the bush, Erestor; you are not supposed to be here. It's not your time yet, just like it wasn't Ada's time when he decided to end his life and attacked that Balrog. That's why he was sent back, and that's why you must return to your life now, too."
"End his life?" I asked, by now completely confused.
Luinil sat up again, embracing his knees with his arms.
"For somebody so bright, you are a little slow on the uptake, Erestor. So here the story in brief: there was a war. I wanted to go, Nana refused. I pestered Ada for weeks till he finally gave in and took me along. He did so because he was proud, and enjoyed the thought of fighting by my side. Alas, I was slain, Ada blamed himself for my death, my mother left him and finally, he decided to end his misery by throwing himself at that Balrog. Very heroic - but has it never occurred to any of you how unlikely it was that ONE Balrog should have been able to kill the great Glorfindel if THREE Balrog's hadn't managed to finish off uncle Ecthelion who, with all due respect, was not half the warrior Ada is?"
My head was spinning. This was too much to take in, and I shaded my eyes with my hand, feeling a headache approaching. But Luinil wasn't finished yet.
"Erestor - you might think this place is paradise, and that you will find peace here, but you are wrong. It's boring. I must know - I've spent the last millennia here. I have seen Ada marry and divorce again, I've suffered my way through his affairs and marriages with simple minded dancers, calculating widows and bossy ladies, and I was sitting here hoping that maybe, one day, somebody would come along who could manage that his smile would reach his eyes again."
He reached out, and put his hand on mine.
"You, dear Erestor, managed this. You have nothing in common, you drive each other nuts, and you argue without a break, but it is obvious you love each other very much. And when you put a stop to his plans to paint the nursery pink, I knew it was safe for me to return."
I got up.
"Now wait. This is too much for me to understand, and by far the strangest dream I ever had. What do you mean by 'return'?"
Luinil shook his head again, his face carrying the expression of careful maintained patience parents show with a slow-learning Elfling.
"Erestor - you are a very intelligent Elf, so please think: right now, you are standing in the Gardens of Gondolin, which have been destroyed millennia ago. You are talking to the son of your beloved, who was slain in The Great Battle back in the first age. What logical conclusion can you come to?"
I could only shrug helplessly.
Luinil sighed, got up, and put his hands on my shoulders, capturing my eyes in an intense stare.
"You are not dreaming my dear Erestor."
No?
"You are dead."
* * *
Fin heard the wind howl outside, driving the heavy gushes of rain through the forest, but he felt neither the sting of the cold nor the hardness of the stone he knelt on. He only felt this overwhelming, all consuming pain in his heart. He had cradled Erestor's lifeless body to his chest for what seemed like an eternity, stroking the skin of his lover and feeling how it lost its warm touch, seeing the dark brown eyes who used to sparkle in anger or passion glaze over like mildew glazing a brambleberry, kissed the hollow cheeks, whispered Erestor's name over and over again, begging, pleading, crying, and he cried out to Mandos to call him, too, but there was no voice, no answer, only the constant howling of the wind.
* * *
"Dead?"
I shook my head. Odd dream. Time to wake up - definitely.
"Ai, dead. As in: Gone. Deceased. Passed away. Not alive. As in ..."
"Yes, thank you, I get the point."
Luinil smiled.
"No, I don't think so. See - you shouldn't be here. You should be back on Arda, cursing my father for the trouble he got you in, calling him all kind of names well-mannered Elves shouldn't know, and not here, talking to me.
Now don't get me wrong - I enjoy talking to you immensely, what with you being my future father and all, but now you must go back, Erestor. For if you don't, my Ada's heart will break, and my fea [soul] can't return to life, and, no disrespect meant, but another millennia in the company of Gil-galad mooning over Elrond, and I volunteer to live in Mordor."
Going back?
Back home.
Back to Fin.
Fin.
Luinil pressed a chaste kiss on my cheek.
"So, off you go, Erestor, and I hope you will forgive me the mess in the library. Ada is sometimes a little slow on the uptake."
Once again, I was engulfed by darkness.
* * *
"Fin?"
Glorfindel didn't react when he heard the weak whisper of his name, blaming it on his imagination. He pressed the body of Erestor close to him, as if to protect him from the cold, though Erestor would never feel cold again, or pain, or pleasure, or Fin's love. He placed butterfly kisses on the dirty hair, his hands rubbing Erestor's arms, and the mighty Elven lord looked a lot like a wee Elfling clutching a rag doll.
"Can't ... breathe ... too tight ... you oaf ..."
Fin stared down at Erestor, who was looking up at him, hissing when another wave of pain tortured his body.
"You ... live." he said, maybe not the most poetic thing to say in a moment like this, but it was the best he could come up with.
"Of course I live, what did you think!" Erestor pressed through clenched teeth, "I fell asleep and had a very odd dream. But where have you been, I've been waiting for you!"
Fin swallowed the lump in his throat, and strived for a lighter tone.
"Ai, you most forgive me, darling, I was picking flowers and forgot the time."
"That is so you - here I am, trying under pains - horrible, horrible pains, I have to add - to bear the fruit of your loins, and you pick flowers!"
Fin kissed Erestor, and there had never been a sweeter kiss in the history of the Firstborn, that much is sure.
"My dear, as much as I would like to discuss my leisure activities with you now, I think we have more important tasks at hand."
With that, Fin gently lowered Erestor to the floor, rolled up his cloak and pushed it under his beloved's head.
"I promise you, the next time I will be here on time", Fin said, freeing Erestor of his clothes.
"The next time?!?" Erestor shrieked, hitting Fin's arm hard with his fist, then he moaned under a new wave of pain.
"There will be no next time, by the Valar!"
"What a pity," Fin sighed, "I was so hoping for twins."
* * *
The rain had ceased, the wind packed up his gear and returned to his chambers, and Fin was sitting in the cave, leaning against the wall. Erestor, who was wrapped in tightly in his blue cloak was cradled on his lap, exhausted and sleeping. In his arms, there was a tiny bundle, which moved and, at times, issued small, squeaking noises.
Fin looked down at his beloved, and at their newborn son, and bright blue eyes stared up at him under a shock of dark hair. Fin cried, but this time, it were tears of joy, and when a tiny hand emerged from what once had been Fin's favourite blue tunic, he offered his index finger, and the infant reached for the digit, holding it tight.
Outside, the morning sun was breaking its way through the clouds, and bright sunlight flooded the cave, chasing away the last remaining shadows of the night.
"Now look at this, Estorel - such a beautiful morning, and your other Ada is still asleep. Ai, but we shall let him sleep in for once, don't you agree?"
Estorel, who had only thanks to Erestor's vocal protests escaped the fate of being called Glorestor or Erfindel, made an affirmative cooing sound, and for one tiny moment, Fin thought the baby was winking at him.
But this was, of course, nothing but imagination.
* * *
(Almost) The End
* * *
Author's notes:
It's finished, yippee! I am fully aware that any timeline, canon or plot fetishist will retch after reading this story, but you know how we see things: "We prefer bow and arrow to canon."
First the thank-yous: to Magic Rat, my wonderful beta, muse and inspiration, and to all those gentle souls who took the time to give me feedback, encourage me and share their experiences about pregnancy and birth with me. I must be the best-informed Elf when it comes about Elflings now.
A special mention for the whacky crowd on the "Elf on a Shelf" tag board, which inspired great bits of this story, including Elrond's thimble collection and some of the names Erestor and Fin discuss for their Elfling.
Thank you Veet, Liritar and Eldanorien for letting me Elfy-Sue you. I hope you can live with the result. :-). Rabbit and Bramble are all the Magic Rat's, and I tried to handle them with care.
After wracking my brain over a name for the son of Erestor and Glorfindel, the sign over a local health-shop caught my eye when I was waiting for the bus - "Estorel". You got to take inspiration where ever you find it.
"Estorel" comes from an advertisement for children cough medicine, so I didn't use a "private" baby. I have no idea where the Frodo-doll comes from, somebody sent me the picture of it once. Estorel was dressed by Arwen of Rivendell.
Yes, there will be a sequel, dealing with the troubles young parents go through, but the main focus will be on Elladan and Orophin. Happy end guaranteed.
PS: Thank you, Chiara, for the yummy picture of Brian. :-)