Disclaimer: this installment is for the sole purpose of entertainment both the author and the readers.
I do not intent to make money of it, so please don't sue me.
All characters unless noted otherwise are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien.

It's Tolkien's fault. Had he given us more female Elves to work on....
As it is we must deal with what we have - not that we care. :-))

Rating: R/NC-17

Summary: In the wake of Elrond's council solitary Erestor finds a new love ....and an old one returns unexpectedly.
Slight SM, lots of drama and some sex. Be warned and prepared...

Author's note: this is the result of an RPG, so not solely written by me but by Lady Phoenix as well.

Archieve: as long as we know: yes.

Feedback: YESSSSSS! It keeps us going!

Pairing: Erestor/Lindir, Erestor/OMC

There were few curious stares from other inhabitants. Nobody knew about Lindir's bonding and some thought that the minstrel's short affair with the Chief Counselor was over by now. Ivor was by far a more fitting companion in their eyes anyway. Everybody would be. Everybody but the boring, intimidating ancient Noldo.

Lindir led Ivor to the place where the falls fell and chose his favorite spot. Sitting on the smooth rocks, Lindir looked out across the still water to where it met with the falls, the almost violent plunging and rippling of the water that somehow soothed the eye. "'Tis one of my favorite places to sit, to think, to write..."

"I can see why." for a rather long time Ivor stood in silence. The sunlight was broken into myriads of rainbow-colored spray - only for a moment though, then Arien had traveled too far to keep the effect alive. It did not matter. Tomorrow it would happen again and every day thereafter. Time did not matter to an immortal being. The power of the waterfall was immense, the grounds vibrant with a distant thunder. Ivor let all this suffuse his consciousness. Wild, untamed beauty - how he loved that!

A wind-tattered cedar stood at the edge, whispering delightful now as it brushed Ivor's form gently. "The tree likes you and your music. You must truly be gifted if even the plants miss your voice!" his eyes shone like polished mithril as he smiled brilliantly at Lindir.

After another while of contemplative silence, Ivor ventured once again - somebody had to know if the rumors were true, after all! "Say, do you know anything about a mad elf living here? It is probably only a silly rumor from the folks at Mirkwood, yet I wonder if there is not a certain truth to it." he lowered his voice "I must gather and spread gossip that feeds me after all." he shrugged.

"Nothing more than the rumors... They speak of an elf living wild in the woods..." Lindir shook his head. "I know of no such creature, but it is rather a romantic image. To live from the land, wild and unfettered... it is rather interesting. I sung of it once. I fear more thought it a joke than a romantic ballad, though. I failed rather miserably in my intent even if they did enjoy the performance," he sighed. "I like to think that all the stories are true. So much more interesting if they are... Truths can be expanded, extended, warped, of course, but... that makes them no less true."

"Aye. Although living from the land can result in an rather empty stomach at times. But if you are willing to pay that price for the sake of romanticism..." the illusionist laughed. Ivor thought about what Lindir had told him. "Maybe... maybe that elf is an Avarin? There are rumors that not all of them had been captured by Morgoth, that some of them still run free and that they are by now - after all those ages - are very different from us. Maybe we could find him?" Ah, this would be quite an adventure!

"I know little of the Avarin... Tell me," Lindir urged with a smile as they sat together. "If I am to search the woods for some mad elf, I should at least know what I am searching for, after all." The bard drew up his legs and rested his chin on the arms crossed atop his knees.

"Now, this is really ancient lore and I do not think there is a single elf in Middle-Earth who is that old. So, this is certainly one of those cases you mentioned, Lindir. True, yet stretched and twisted." Instead of standing upright to sing the lay, Ivor sat down comfortably. "And for the sake of my voice I shall not sing all the hundreds of lays that make the whole story, I shall only give you a rough outline:
"At the time of the Awakening we were but one tribe, living in the far east in Cuivienen and we called ourselves the Quendi - that is an ancient Quenya-word and means simply 'those who speak with voices'. Little did our forefathers know about our arrival being anxiously awaited by the Valar.
"One day Orome discovered the Quendi on one of his hunts and he intited them to follow him to the Undying Lands. Almost all accepted, being blinded by the spledor of the Vala and his entourage of lesser spirits. You know that they split up during that long travel: your Sidarin forebearers finally decided not to cross the Sea and stay in Belerian which is now forever lost - whereas the Noldorin, Vanyarin and Telerin continued to cross the Western Sea. This is why only those tribes are named High-Elves or Light-Elves: they lived in the light of the Two Trees that cast their light all across Valinor 'ere Morgoth destroyed them with the help of Ungoliant, the mother of all spiders.
"Only a small group of elves saw no need to even leave Cuivienen at all and for their refusal they were named Avarin - those who refused. They would have slipped from our memory if not Morgoth had so cruelly enslaved them." Ivor paused, gathering his thoughts. His voice took on a darker note.
"He who had always defied the will if Iluvatar the Great, Lord of the Lords of Arda, Creator or the Valar and all that we know, he who once had been the mightiest of the Valar, Melko whom we call Morgoth, decided to make his own race of creatures.
"Yet not able to really create, he instead hunted down the Avari, locked them up in his caves and under tortures unthinkable transformed them into what we now know as Orcs. Not only did he have his own foul brood, again he spat into the face of Iluvatar.
"But it is said that he never caught them all, that - like all his plans this one was flawed - and that some of those elves who never gave up the ancient way of living, are still roaming free. A scattered people, now so estranged from their elven brothers that some even say they resemble more beasts than elves, for they are said to be clad in furs and rawhide, taller than us, stronger in build and swift like deer." his eyes had taken on a dreamy look. He would love to actually see one of those ancient brothers. But would they even understand each other? Already Quenya was an alien tongue to most Elves in Middle-Earth - how could a tongue that was still older, more isolated, bear any resemblance to any language they knew today?

"Who knows, if we stay away from the well-trodden paths, we might discover something new yet very old? What say you?" he beamed at Lindir. He found Lindir wonderful company and the fact that the minstrel was off limits made things even more relaxed, to his own surprise.

"To speak to one so old..." Lindir smiled, excited at the idea. "I cannot say how long I will be up to the search, but we can begin at least. Surely if he has hid for such long years in these woods, then there would be signs. I am no tracker, but it should be obvious..." And even if they found nothing, Lindir knew he would have wonderful company and enjoy his new friend's presence.

Ivor shrugged. "We can continue tomorrow or next week then. Or next month." what did it matter? Time was of no importance to an elf. How long the search would take - a month, a year or ten even: it did not matter. They had all time they needed.

Though he still ached for the return of his lovers, Lindir felt renewed by his contact with Ivor and grateful for the magician's calming influence. "Come. We shall venture to the deepest parts of the forest. If anyone were lurking about on the edges as we are, then they would surely have been spotted long ago."

"Aye. You know this place best: where do your folks never go? That should be where we will start." Ivor stood and pulled Lindir to a standing. "Imagine: if this is true we might be the first to see an Avarin ever since the Elves left the place of Awakening. They will sing songs about us!" he laughed, excited about this unexpected turn of events.

Lindir decided not to point out that if Ivor's story spread, he might be mentioned in song anyway. Instead he laughed along with his new friend and held tight to Ivor's hand as they made their way into the forest. He loved wandering and traipsing through the woods. Laughter bubbled up as they crept through the forest, and Lindir wondered if he would be able to keep his joy in check enough to prove stealthy when they drew closer to their target. He had not felt so wonderful in a long while. "Ah, my friend, I shall be well in no time. I already feel a thousand times lighter!"

Ivor laughed quietly. Not that he knew dark moods himself, but he had been told that a change of mind could work miracles to the body. He did not complain. Already did he feel a connection to the minstrel who now led him into the untouched corner of the vale.

After they had claimed across a stretch of boondocks with piles of rotting deadwood and dense undergrowth that hindered not only their forthcoming but also their stealth, they reached what looked like a path.

Not being a huntsman Ivor was unable to determine if it was just one trodden by deer, boar or whatever else. All he could say was that it was a clear straight narrow grassy line leading further into the forgotten parts of the protected valley.

Ivor's heart was beating with excitement as he looked at Lindir with a cocked eyebrow.

+++

High up in an elm-tree Uru had curled up in his nest. It was built with liana, twigs and leaves and formed a wide, comfortable bed in safe height, away from predators that could stumble across him during his time of resting.

He happily sucked the marrow out of a bone, slowly dozing off while the sun climbed the sky when suddenly! his ears twitched wildly. //footfall! VOICES!// All hairs on end, Uru's mind raced: he could not even remember any Quendi having come this way EVER. It was impossible they had discovered him - he had always been too careful, had always taken great pains not to leave traces in their part of the valley. Now the voices and steps stopped rather close by and - being the ever-curious - Uru leant over the edge of his talan and looked down...

Hearing a noise above them, Lindir looked around. At first, he saw nothing and then... "Ivor!" he whispered urgently, gripping his friend's hand a bit tighter. "There, do you... do you see something moving just there?" Lindir pointed and felt a thrill of fear at the idea that they might truly have found something.

Uru shied away from the pointing digit as if it were a deadly weapon. The Etya had discovered him! What now? His mind raced.

Ivor's gaze followed Lindir's finger but all he saw were leaves and twigs and... "It looks like a huge nest. Maybe one of the Eagles lives here?" he whispered, unsure what to say or do.

The Ava's sharp ears picked up the hushed voice although he did not understand the words of that foreign tongue. He should better leave - Etyarin were weird folk and one could hardly predict their actions. Ever so slowly Uru moved to the opposite edge of his nest.

On the ground Ivor froze, seeing the slight move of the nest or talan. "By Elbereth, there's something up there!"

~~~

"Ai!" Erestor and his horse whirled around as if they were one being. While he pressed his horse in-between Daer - who was still on foot - and the mysterious fiend, he drew his sword. He knew it was probably useless against this enemy but he would still sell his skin at the highest price possible.

"Your master will not like your speech!" Erestor growled "For he was corrupted with the promise of power, and what good is power when there is nobody left to enslave, fledgling of a fledgling? Know that who you call master is but a miserable servant to the one now chained forever beyond the confines of this world. Iluvatar's song will not suffer discord."

Gil was pacing nervously back and fro, even the animal could sense the evil.

Daer remained close by his lover, tense, sword at the ready. "Why should we care for the opinion of someone who attacks unarmed innocents and then runs without facing their punishment? You have no honor and deserve no respect," he spat.

Long smirked. "I care not for the political scheming of celestial creatures, and I call no one 'master'. I serve those that will benefit myself and my goals, and only if I care to," he said, looking not at all concerned about Erestor's weaponry.

"But enough of such talk. What of the young one? Is he still withering away, or were you merciful enough to put him down before he could suffer too greatly?"

Hearing such talk spawned Erestor's anger greatly. He grit his teeth and growled "Your vile scheming was useless." Part of his mind was busy calming his horse but he was still very alert in the face of their enemy "I withstood Sauron, why should I succumb to YOU?" Erestor said with returned pride. He had been sent out with Glorfindel to shield the Halflings and Estel from the pursuit of the Nazgul; Elrond had well known that the inner light of those two ancient elves would blind the servants of the Dark Lord, and Erestor knew no fear - at least not in the face of an enemy.

"Lindir is well and will be as long as we breathe the sweet air of Arda." Erestor continued, bringing Gil one step forward and raising to his full height "Now, speak quickly: Who are you? what is it that you want?"

Long only laughed. "Very well; if you believe that having my name is going to help you, then I shall grant it. I am Long Singh, a foreigner in your land, though I have made it my home." He paused for a moment, thinking. "As to my purpose here... That is something you shall learn, and sooner than you would prefer, no doubt."

Seeing his pendant in Daerdion's hand, the mage smiled. "Ah, my amulet. Keep it, if you will. I am sure that one of your diviners will be able to learn some little tidbit from it that may or may not give you the answers you seek. It matters not to me; I will succeed, no matter how much you and those fools of the Fellowship resist."

Seeing no acute danger, Erestor pressed on: "How did we give you reason to hate us? Or do you seek to end our reign here? That is gone already, as you certainly have noticed." With the passing of the last High King the Elves had resigned, realizing their ruling had come to an end, that now the time of Men had begun. Thus more and more accepted the age-old invitation of the Valar and sailed West.

"Yes, and it's quite unfortunate, really," Long replied, looking somewhat somber. "I had hoped that the last bastion of civilized behavior might linger here in Middle Earth for awhile longer, but it seems that it is not to be. I bear you no ill will, truly. I only wish the less refined, more barbaric races to be disposed of. They will only destroy themselves, and they will no doubt tear this world apart as well." He held up a hand to silence any protests. "And, of course, Sauron will be no better. Which is why his reign here will be far shorter than he no doubt hopes."

TBC...

review this story

Previous Next Index page