25. Ch. 23
A/N: In my world, Glorfindel and Maedhros did not meet in Aman. Glorfindel was not born in Aman…he got the 'Light' when he was reborn there before he returned to Arda. I know this is really off, but I need it to make this story go the way I want it to.
Glorfindel slipped silently into the library. He could not fathom why he was seeking out the Galadhrim. He certainly had no desire to share his failures with a stranger. Still, he needed to speak to him, and quickly. He slowly walked towards the silver head just visible over the back of an armchair.
Feeling someone approach, Orophin stood and turned, a smile crossing his face. The smile dimmed as he took in the dejected looking elf lord.
"Does the offer still stand?"
In response, the younger elf set his book aside and motioned to the doors that lead to a small courtyard. Glorfindel followed him out. Once it was clear they were alone, Orophin sat on a stone bench and looked at the warrior expectantly. Glorfindel ran a hand over his face and sighed.
"I have no idea where or how to start. I am not really sure why I sought you out."
With a gentle smile the young elf replied, "Just imagine you are talking to yourself. I will not interrupt."
"Well, it started a few days ago," Glorfindel began as he took to pacing. "I got…well, I mean Namo…Oh Mordor! You will think I'm crazy. Never mind, I should not have distu…"
"My lord, you are troubled and that concerns me greatly. Never have I known anything to rattle you. Please, let me help." For some unknown reason the golden lord could not deny the Silvan and furthermore, he found he did not want to.
"Namo came to see me." He paused to see the younger elf's reaction; there wasn't one, so he continued. "He told me that…" Should he mention Ecthelion? No, that had nothing to do with his problem. "…a warrior would be returned and that I was to help him get acclimated to his new life. He did not tell me who it was, only that I would know when the time was right. Well, I now know who it is and I am afraid that it can only mean that I am to be replaced."
At that Orophin gasped, "Surely you are mistaken! Why would that happen?"
Glorfindel was a bit taken aback by the archer's adamant behavior. The golden elf continued, "You already know that Maglor has returned." It was more of a statement. "Namo has seen fit to return Maedhros as well."
Orophin could not help the dumb-founded stare on his face. That was not what he expected to hear. "Continue," he said softly.
Glorfindel sighed. "I am to help one of the greatest warriors, strategists, and leaders of all time become re-acquainted with this world. I can only assume that he was sent back to complete at which I failed."
Now the young elf was completely at a loss. Failed? Failed at what, how? These questions raced through his head. Everyone who met the golden warrior held him in the highest regard. Surely the old warrior did not think the fall of Gondolin was his fault.
Erestor stood in the shadow of the doorframe, watching the scene before him. He had not see his lord so happy in decades; it took years off the elf. He could not help that his eyes were drawn to the reclining elf. He had learned the history as an elfling; there were sketches and a few paintings of the legendary son of Feanor, but they paled in comparison to the actual being. Not wanting to interrupt the 'family' moment, he silently slipped out the door, unnoticed…well, nearly unnoticed. A pair of mahogany eyes followed the silent elf.
Maedhros lost himself in thought as his family fussed over him. He wondered about the elf. When he first woke and saw the young elf, he could not help but admire the blue-black hair and intelligent eyes. He knew the elf…Erestor, that is what Elrond had called him…held a position of some power. The healers certainly hustled when he was about, and Elrond had enlisted his help instead of one of the other healers.
"Elrond?" His voice sounded so odd to his ears.
The elf lord stopped the fluffing of Maedhros' pillows. "What do you need? Are you hungry, perhaps a light meal?"
Maedhros raised an eyebrow. Lindir smirked as he realized where his lord learned that technique. The minstrel must have inadvertently made a sound because he soon found himself the center of attraction. He could not hold the chuckle back as three eyebrows quirked up.
"Forgive me my lord," he stammered, "it's just the, umm..." He pointed to his eyebrow. Maedhros' rich laugh filled the room and lilted out the window, stopping Erestor in his tracks. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. Elrond's advisor let out a little sigh.
Back in the room, Lindir thought it a good time to leave, especially once he noticed that Erestor had managed to sneak out. "If you will excuse me, I have a few things to take care of. It was a great pleasure meeting you, Maedhros." The silver elf gave a little bow and headed for the door.
"Wait, I will come with you." Maglor rose from the bedside chair. Lindir turned and met his love halfway across the room. Giving the older elf a chaste kiss on the lips he whispered, "Stay with your family. I will see you at dinner." He kissed Maglor again, turned and left the room. Maglor stared after him with a silly look on his face.
"Quite a lover you have there, little brother." Maglor attempted a glare, but given his face was a lovely shade of pink, there was no heat in the look. The three elves laughed and settled in for some quality catch-up time.
"My Lord, I really do…"
Glorfindel continued as if the younger elf had not spoken. He paced with a distant look in his eyes. "I was returned to serve and protect Eärendil's house. I have not lived up to that honor. The Silver Lady was attacked and forced to sail. Her devastated sons hunt the countryside in search of every orc they can find. My Lord worries they will not return and now there is the growing threat of evil. All because I did not feel the need to escort Celebrian myself, as I should have." By now Glorfindel's voice was raised and there were tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
Orophin reached out and caught the warrior's sleeve, pulling him to sit next to him on the bench.
"What happened to the Lady was no more your fault than it was mine!" Glorfindel pinned the young elf with a disbelieving glare. Orophin took a deep breath and continued. "I led the escort waiting for Lady Celebrian. When she did not arrive at the appointed time, I should have ventured beyond the borders to intercept her."
"You had no way of knowing anything was wrong."
"Exactly, and neither did you." The two elves stared at one another. Glorfindel dropped his head into his hands in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. Uncertain of how to proceed, the silver-haired elf gently rested a hand on the strong back; his eyes stung with tears for the great elf beside him.
A knock on the door drew the three elves from their reminiscing. "Come," Elrond called.
"Forgive the interruption, my lord. Your meals will be served here shortly. I will make the necessary excuses to Captain Haldir and his brother."
"Thank you, Erestor." The dark haired elf gave a small nod. "I would not have been able to get through everything that has happened without him. He is the one who truly rules this valley. I am just a figurehead." Elrond continued.
Erestor blushed at his lord's compliments. "That is untrue and you know it, my lord. I am only fulfilling my duty. Please excuse me." Erestor nearly bolted from the room. He hated attention. As far as he was concerned, Elrond was being overly kind. He didn't do anything any other chief advisor wouldn't do.
Maedhros smiled at the retreating elf with a sort of melancholy look. "Are you alright?" Elrond asked concerned.
"Yes." Maedhros answered then quickly thought, 'Well, Elrond has good taste in elves.' The wounded elf closed his eyes and sighed. It was too much to expect that not only he would be returned, but that he would find love as well. He grudgingly admitted that Elrond and Erestor complimented each other wonderfully.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.