Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: Forgotten Refugee (#176)
Author: Papilio
Chapters: 11

Archive: Tolkien
Category: Alternate Universe (AU)
Description: "I asked Erestor if he was born in Imladris." Glorfindel said. "He responded by shutting himself off completely!" Elrond sighed, the time for truth had come.
Published: 09 Aug 2003
Updated: 09 Aug 2003
Warnings: None
Type: Angst
Characters: Erestor;Elrond;Glorfindel


Chapter 1 - Pethron a lathron (Narrator and listener)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places or any other recognisable feature from J.R.R Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings.” Sadron and other characters that are not recognisable belong to me as does my interpretation of Erestor’s heritage and past.





Each heart is a pilgrim,

each one wants to know

the reason why the winds die

and where the stories go.

Pilgrim, in your journey

you may travel far,

for pilgrim it’s a long way

to find out who you are…



“Pilgrim” performed by Enya. Lyrics by Roma Ryan.

Taken from the album entitled “A Day Without Rain.”





The sun shone brightly in the sky above Rivendell, it was a lazy summer’s day and almost all activity had ground to a halt in the household. Every serving elf, Paige and stable hand had headed outdoors to enjoy and make the best of the wondrously warm and bright weather.



The Lord of the house himself was also enjoying the welcome respite from his labours and was currently standing on his private balcony blue/grey eyes taking in every nuance of summer, each stir of nature: a bird’s sweet song, a butterfly’s flight path, the sigh of the light summer breeze as it wound it’s way through the intricate and delicate elven architecture that was Rivendell, the Last Homely house.



From his lofty vantage point he could see several members of his household enjoying the season in their own special way, but his eyes caught and rested on the familiar forms of Erestor, Elladan and Elrohir. Erestor had at Elrond’s suggestion agreed to help train the two young elves in the way of arms, a position Elrond usually reserved for himself alone, but he had decided that Erestor could use the break from his demanding household duties. The seneschal was going to break down under the stress of his job if he did not take some time for himself and leisure.



Elrond watched as Erestor and his sons laid down a pile of weapons of different shapes and forms: sharp, light and delicately carved elven knifes, bows complete with full quivers, lightweight swords and the odd spear.



A slight scuffle from behind alerted Elrond to the presence of another elf in his chambers. Turning slightly Elrond was greeted with a smile from the tall, blonde Noldo who was indeed Glorfindel.



Glorfindel joined his Lord and old friend at the balcony, his sharp blue eyes quickly picking out the three companions whom Elrond had been observing.



Erestor now had a light but extremely sturdy sword balanced expertly in one hand and was lecturing the twins in its proper use. He went through several complex movements, the blade shining as the sun reflected brightly off the finely honed metal.



The twins stood as statues ,clearly shocked and surprised with the skill of the elder elf that held the position of advisor and housekeeper in the household. They had only ever seen Erestor with a quill in his hand and a stack of parchment in front of him, or directing a score of servants in their duties.



Elrond grinned at their surprise while next to Elrond Glorfindel raised an eyebrow at Erestor’s very obvious skill with a blade, surprise etched on the blonde’s face.



“I did not realise that he had such talent in arms, Elrond. It is highly unusual for one who occupies his position to be so trained in combat ,and Erestor is usually so reserved and scholarly. How did he come to be so well trained?”



“I taught him myself.” Elrond answered smiling at Elladan’s shaky attempts to ward off Erestor’s attacks.



“I did not know that you had.” Glorfindel stated clearly surprised at his friend’s statement.



“There is much that many people do not know about Erestor. You say that he is reserved and scholarly ,and this is indeed the case ,but he has seen his share of combat.”



“I know so very little about him, he is so very guarded when it comes to showing emotion and talking about himself. I have long since given up on asking about his past he does not take kindly to enquiries and need I remind you Elrond, that he has a sharp tongue.”



Elrond chuckled at Glorfindel’s last statement “Assuredly old friend, there is absolutely no need to remind me!”



The two stood in companionable silence for several long minutes as they watched Erestor’s continued attempts at teaching Elladan and Elrohir.



Finally Glorfindel broke the silence “If you do not mind me asking Elrond, what happened to Erestor that caused him to be so quiet and guarded? Once I asked him if he had been born in Imladris and he responded by shutting himself off completely, but I could clearly see the pain reflected from the depths of his eyes.



When Glorfindel turned to look at his friend he was shocked to see that Elrond’s face had darkened considerably and all traces of his former humour had dissipated.



“It is not all my tale to tell, and only Erestor can tell you it in full, but I shall relate to you the parts of the tale that I know from my own personal experience. It is a dark and tragic tale filled with grief and like most stories it also has its own secrets, secrets that I have kept for countless years. The main secret Erestor still does not know for it would tear him apart. You see Glorfindel, Erestor is not as hardened and cold as he would like everyone to believe, it is all an act. The sarcasm and biting remarks are all a cleverly contrived mask designed to stop anyone from reaching the inner truth of how fragile he really is deep down.”



Glorfindel sighed “I had no idea that he was so haunted.”



Silence reigned for several long minutes before Glorfindel once again broke the silence “Where did Erestor spend his childhood?”



Elrond’s eyes slid closed and a pained sigh escaped his lips “Eregion.”



Glorfindel gasped in shock “Eregion!”



“Eregion.” Elrond repeated.


Chapter 2 - Iaun (Sanctuary)

Somewhere on the road to Eregion, the Noldorin settlement of the “Gwaith-i-Mirdain” (people of the jewel smiths). Year 1677 S.A.





Dark storm clouds gathered in the sky above as rain threatened to spill forth in torrents from the heavens. A rider in a dark green woollen cloak galloped on in a desperate attempt to try and beat the rain. The hoof beats of his jet black stallion could just be heard over the increasingly frequent rumble of thunder.



Just then a cry of panic rent the air from beneath the folds of the rider’s cloak.



“Shhh, little one, we are nearly there. It’s alright, I am here.” The rider spoke to the bundle cradled beneath his cloak which was in reality a male elfling of two weeks.



Things had gone less than well that day. The babe’s mother had died that morning, a combination of exhaustion, exposure and weakness from childbirth had caused her to succumb. The child’s food supply had died with her and he had been forced to rush the last part of the journey.



The rider was making for Ost-in-Edhil, the capital of Eregion he had hoped to make it before the storm broke but clearly it was not to be.



His resolve re-affirming itself he fixed a determined look on his face and spurred his steed on to greater efforts as another, much louder roar of thunder sounded overhead.



* * * * * * * * *



Some time later and after a long and difficult journey the rider arrived in Ost-in-Edhil. Everyone was obviously inside due to the storm as none of the elven population was visible. After several long minutes of searching, the rider found the house that he had been searching for.



Dismounting as gently as possible, so that he did not disturb his charge, the rider knocked on the door to the house.



Within seconds a dark-haired male elf answered the door. He was tall and thin, extremely pale, with dark blue eyes, eyes which mirrored distrust of the stranger at the door.



“Mae Govannen, randir*, whom do you seek?”



“Maer Aduial mellon!** I seek Sadron, late of the Havens, now a member of your guild.



The guild referred to was the “Gwaith-i-Mirdain” led by Celebrimbor, Curufin’s son, who had discovered the rich reserves of jewels and mithril that were in abundance at the western side of the Misty Mountains. The elves had founded the realm of Eregion, and quickly established a very profitable and friendly trade relationship with the Dwarves of Moria. Dwarves seldom associate with elf-kind, they hold a deep contempt and dislike for the firstborn.



“Come in mellon, I will show you to a waiting room.”







Translations:



*Welcome, wanderer.



**Good evening friend!


Chapter 3 - Sadron

For one so small, you seem so strong.

My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm.

This bond between us cannot be broken.

I will be here don’t you cry.





The rider was shown into a side room within the guild’s meeting place, a small sparsely furnished room which contained a couple of chairs and a log fire which filled the room with a pleasant wood smell and provided much needed warmth.



After sitting himself down on one of the available chairs he undid the fastenings on his cloak to reveal the small elfling cradled within.



At the movement the babe started to mew in protest and thrash its tiny hands in the air. “Shhh, tithen mir*” I am here with you.



At the sound of his protector’s voice the babe quietened and settled down in the rider’s arms.



The elf grinned and leaned down closer to the babe in his arms. Seeing its chance the child reached upwards with its tiny hands and managed to capture the end of one of the elf’s long braids which had fallen forwards.



The elf let him and continued to murmur endearments to the babe. The young elfling had dark blue eyes and a tuft of dark hair and all the charm and innocence of a child. He is an angel the elf thought, I shall miss you when I have to leave.



The thought saddened the elder elf but there was one thing left to console him, and that was that he would see the child again sometime in the future. This is not forever. After all, you will not always be a fragile, powerless elfling, vulnerable to attack. One day when you have grown up we shall see each other again, of that I am certain.



He awoke from his pondering to find that the elfling had stopped playing with his braids and was gazing into his eyes. Blue/grey eyes met dark blue and it was at that moment he knew that a bond had been created between them, they would always be connected.



A soft noise alerted him to another’s presence in the room and looking up he met the light blue eyes of a tall Telerin elf with blonde hair who was wearing a smithies apron over his working clothes.



“Mae Govannen! You are Sadron?” the rider enquired of the blonde.



“I go by that name.” Sadron smiled.



“Pray, what is your name mellon?”



“My name is Elrond, I have brought the babe as was arranged.”



Sadron walked over to Elrond’s side and smiled down at the child who was cradled in the Noldorin elf’s arms. “He is beautiful although there is not a lot of his mother in his appearance, he favours his father.”



Sadron broke off and peered at Elrond a strange untrusting look came into his eyes mixed with fear. “Where is Celebrin?”



Elrond looked down at the babe in his arms, unwilling to answer.



“She’s dead isn’t she?” Sadron stated a look of complete and utter loss in his eyes.



“I am afraid so. She died on the road, she was too frail and there was nothing I could do for her.”



There was a long uncomfortable silence in which neither of them said anything.



“My wife and I will take in my sister’s son as was arranged, he is all we have left of her and similarly we are all he has left. Have no fear he shall be well cared for and when he is older he may decide to apprentice as a jewel smith or a lore master.”



Elrond nodded “I am grateful to your for your kindness…I regret”



Sadron interrupted this line of conversation “It has been decided.”



Elrond looked down at the babe in his arms “She named him Erestor.” He whispered in a sad voice. “It is such a tragic start to a new life, for a child to never know its mother.”



“Something tells me that this child will know much tragedy and sadness in his life but he has a spirit that will endure all hardships.” Sadron added.



“Can we offer you lodgings?” Sadron asked.



“Only for tonight, for I must depart with the sun on the morrow.” Elrond answered.



Standing he offered the child in his arms to Sadron, who willingly excepted the small burden. The babe was now fast asleep and only stirred slightly at the movement.



“I will get a member of our guild to show you to some lodgings” Sadron said.



Elrond looking one last time upon the elfling whispered “Maer manadh Erestor**, we shall meet again. May the lady protect and guide you. Namarie!”







You’ll be in my heart.

Yes you’ll be in my heart.

Now and forever more.





Lyrics by Phil Collins.





*Little Treasure.



**Good Fortune.



Thank you to everyone who reviewed it is much appreciated.



Papilio.


Chapter 4 - Mul ned din (Slave of Silence)

“And that was how Erestor came to be in Eregion.” Elrond finished.

It was awhile before Glorfindel said anything, he was still trying to comprehend the enormity of what he had just been told. “Doubtless he was caught up in the carnage of Eregion’s destruction?” the blonde finally enquired of his friend.

“He was indeed.” Elrond replied his voice conveying his sadness. “I very much regret the pain and fear he experienced during its destruction. There was so much violence…so much death!”

“Erestor was only twenty when the city was destroyed. Everything he knew for certain in his world, friends, family, and home…gone…all gone, destroyed before his eyes.”

“I was the one who found him, alone…unscathed…physically! I found him after the damage was done and the orcs long departed. He was wandering along the ruined streets of Ost-in-Edhil, heedless of all around him, staring detachedly at the carnage. He was as one in a deep trance, his face lacking any expression or emotion at all.”

“I manoeuvred him to safety and was shocked and worried by the lack of resistance he showed to a stranger leading him away by the hand. I did not know who he was at that point as he refused to speak and remained trance-like. One of his fellow survivors, a smith, told me his name.”

“It was the destruction of Eregion that caused Imladris to be founded, as a haven for the now homeless refugees. For years Erestor refused to speak, the horror of the things he had seen had robbed him of his voice. He used to hide away in the libraries and gardens of the newly built Imladris, shirking the comfort and contact of fellow elves. In the end the servants and residents of Imladris accepted his withdrawal and left him to his own devices.”

“They just accepted that, was there nothing anyone could do?” Glorfindel frowned.

“You have to understand, my friend, that everything that could have aided him had already been done. I was of course very worried about him, and I spent a lot of time trying to elicit any kind of response from him, any sign that he was coming back to himself. I was worried that he would just slowly waste away as is known to happen with our kind, but there was nothing physically wrong with him, we just had to be patient, wait…hope.”

“So what brought about the change in him?” Glorfindel asked.

“A tragedy!”


Chapter 5 - I meth ned dinen nirnaeth (The end of silent lamentation)

When will I see an end to destruction and woe

and how will I see, no division in my life.



There comes a time to make amends

never too late to try again, to save our soul.



When will I see an end to the famine and war.

and when will I say there’s no solution no more.





Imladris (Rivendell in the common-tongue)







It seemed that his work never ended, he was continually overseeing final adjustments to the construction of Imladris and approving suggestion for bettering the newly formed elven settlement. He never seemed to have anytime for himself anymore.



Elrond sighed and rubbed a weary hand over his temple, sometimes his responsibilities and workload were just too demanding and to make matters worse the high king Gil-galad had arrived un-announced to visit Imladris and give the new realm his blessing.



Elrond had spent practically all of his time since the high king arrived running around overseeing the preparation of suitable accommodation for the royal visitor and all his body guards. Elrond sighed and sank wearily into a nearby chair “Now, if no one objects, I would like a bit of peace to myself” he whispered to himself.



Just at that moment a servant ran into Elrond’s chambers, a look of profound fear on his face and Elrond had to work hard to restrain the curse that was trying to free itself from his lips.



“My Lord come quickly…there has been an accident…a stable fire!” The servant managed to gasp out.



Elrond was on his feet and out the door as soon as the servant had finished speaking.



* * * * * * * *





Arriving on the scene Elrond found himself rooted to the spot at the terrifying sight.

The stables were engulfed by flame, the red and yellow fire licked at every beam of the structure and thick, black suffocating smoke clouded the air making it impossible to breathe.



All of a sudden memories he had worked hard to suppress resurfaced in his mind’s eye.



Sirion was burning and people were screaming…dying…the son’s of Feanor slew everyone who approached them…he and his brother Elros were backed into a corner by Maedhros and Maglor. And then…his mother standing on the edge of the high tower window, a beautiful and tragic figure clothed in a white, flowing garment her long, dark hair flowing in the breeze, the Silmaril clutched to her chest. Time stood still as she turned one last time to look on them then turning at last she cast herself from the open window, no sign of hesitation whatsoever on her face. He opened his mouth to scream…



A high-pitched scream rent the smoky air and Elrond was once again brought back to the present. He saw several of his people form a line so that buckets of water could be passed down the line in order that the fire could be extinguished before it spread to other parts of the settlement.



One of the stable hands approached Elrond, his face blackened by the smoke from the flames. “What happened?” Elrond enquired of the elf.



“We are not sure my lord, but we believe it to be a broken oil lamp. My Lord…Erestor is in there!”



“What!” Elrond shouted knowing that his face fully displayed his shock and panic at this news. “What are you doing about this? Why was he in there in the first place?”



The elf’s was startled into silence as his lord shouted at him. “My lord he has made it his routine, he often visits the horses, he causes no trouble, he just stands there petting them gently. I think they help soothe his pain…I have heard that traumatised people often find comfort and understanding in animals rather than in their own kind.”



“What is being done to rescue him?” Elrond whispered in a saddened voice.



“My lord Gil-galad was there when the stables caught fire. He was on his way to retrieve his stallion so he could go riding. He ran in when it caught fire.”



“He did what!” Elrond felt an even greater surge of fear and panic in his chest, not only was he going to lose Erestor he was also going to lose the high king of the Noldor to the flames.”



Elrond was just about to run into the burning stables himself when a shadowy figure emerged from the wreckage. It was Gil-galad and he had Erestor cradled in his arms.



Elrond ran towards them as fast as he could to reassure himself that they were indeed safe and did not require any healing.



Erestor was clinging to the high king, his face hidden as it was buried into Gil-galad’s chest. He was clearly sobbing his whole body racked by his sobs. Both appeared to be in one piece, no injuries were visible, although Erestor would have to be treated for shock.



Gil-galad laid Erestor gently on the ground and Elrond immediately fell to his knees next to the distraught elf. Erestor cuddled up to Elrond and Elrond took him into his arms and softly whispered endearments and comfort to the younger elf. Erestor turned to face Elrond and made eye contact with him, his dark blue eyes wide with fear and distress. He softly whispered “Why?” Then again “Why?” in an even louder voice. “First Eregion and now this! Am I cursed? Is everyone and everything I love on the face of Arda doomed to be destroyed? Everyone who cares for me! Everyone who takes me in suffers, it must be me!”



Elrond looked in amazement at Erestor, for he had spoken! The thing that he believed impossible had finally happened. If only it could be in happier circumstances.



“No Erestor! It is not you! Do not ever say that!” Elrond said in a firm voice.



“It must be. Even my father did not want me. He saw sense. Saw what a burden I would be!” Erestor whispered brokenly.



Elrond looked uncomfortable at this pronouncement “Of course he wanted you Erestor! It was just that the circumstances were not ideal and…”



A sob from Erestor cut him off. Sighing softly in defeat he finally looked up at Gil-galad who was looking at Erestor with deep concern and pity. “I trust that you are well my liege?”



“Perfectly well thank you Elrond I think I shall retire to my chambers. ” With one last concerned glance at Erestor and a nod at Elrond the high king turned and walked away in the direction of the house.



“Come little one. You need some medical attention and rest.” With that he picked Erestor up in his arms as if he weighed nothing and followed in the direction Gil-galad had taken.



Elrond’s last thought was only time can heal him now, each day is a step in the right direction.…wounded souls need time to heal.





There comes a time to make amends

Never too late to try again…to save our soul.





“Anam” Performed by Clannad.



“Anam” translates as “Soul.”


Chapter 6 - Erestor

I want to know how does it feel behind those eyes of blue?



Glorfindel had left Elrond standing at the balcony an hour ago reminiscing on events long past. The other elf had seemed distracted and saddened by the memories he had retold and Glorfindel deeply regretted having asked about them. Still at least he knew a bit more about Erestor and his past, how the younger elf had suffered! It deeply saddened Glorfindel’s heart to think on such pain!



Glorfindel was currently observing Erestor as he walked in the spacious gardens of Imladris deep in thoughts of his own.



I wonder what he is thinking about at this moment. What goes on in his mind? Do the memories of events past still plague him?



Of course they do, you fool! Does the fall of Gondolin still not trouble you…reside in your darkest dreams?





* * * * * * * *





Erestor was physically exhausted, his muscles ached and he felt like he had been assailed by 100 orcs instead of two fledgling elves still learning the finer points of weapons skills.



It had been too long since he had participated in such activities. He spent so much of his time indoors running menial chores and directing servants in duties that they had performed hundreds of times before, or at least that’s what it felt like at this moment.



He knew that his role in Elrond’s household was much bigger and more important than that; he was needed. It felt good to be needed, relied upon. He loved his job really, he had always been rather bookish and he loved keeping the required records that went with the job of seneschal. Why he had been an apprentice lore master at…no do not think about that, do not delve any deeper into that thought. The memories of what had been; what had occurred and what could have been were a constant nagging pain at the back of his mind like an open wound…wounds that would not seem to heal.



He had spent so little of his considerably long life there but it had been a home to him, his first real home before Imladris. He had had family there, friends, a bright future doing an occupation that was destined for him. He had had all of these things and more…until that dark day all those years ago.



He knew what it was to have everything in life that you could possibly want. What it was like to watch as it was all ripped away and destroyed right in front of his eyes.



The only other thing in life he could have possibly wanted at that time in his life were parents…his real parents.



For although Sadron and his wife had tried as much as possible to fill that most noticeable gap in his life…it had still not been the same. His mother had died it was not her fault that she could not be there for him, it was his father he did not understand.



He had asked Sadron about his father several times but the elder elf had remained closed mouthed about him and the reasons for Erestor’s removal to Eregion.



Despite his longing for his absent parents, he had had some wonderful and special days there, days that lingered in the memory.



Yes, he still remembered those days, for nothing could erase them from his memory.



There are some things that time cannot erase.







Maybe once in awhile there is a trace of a smile behind those eyes of blue

But it’s painfully clear there’s a river of tears behind those eyes of blue.



You know there’s nothing left to stand in your way except yourself, and I know.

Although your heart’s full of pain the hope still remains behind those eyes of blue.



…Behind those eyes of blue.



Lyrics by Paul Carrick.


Chapter 7 - Glamor uin galan ir govannem (An echo of the day we met)

I still remember the world from the eyes of a child.

Slowly those feelings were clouded by what I know now.



Where has my heart gone, an uneven trade for the real world.

I want to go back to believing in everything and knowing nothing at all.



“Fields of Innocence” by Evanescence.







Eregion year 1682 S.A.

Erestor is five years of age at this time.





It was a typical working day for the smiths of Eregion and Sadron and the rest of the Gwaith-i-Mirdan were to be found crafting the jewels of their trade in the great forges of Eregion.



Celebrimbor was still revelling in the completion of his greatest labour – three elven rings of great power. The rings had taken up all of his time and creative labour but he was now very near to completing them. Thus it was these rings that he was working on at that moment in the forges.



Celebrimbor held a simple gold band furnished with a sapphire up to the light, marvelling at its simplistic beauty. The gold reflected the light from the fire beautifully and the gem of deepest blue glittered in the glow.



Celebrimbor was distracted from his perusal at that moment by a tug at his forge apron. Looking down, in order that he may discover the cause of his distraction, his eyes lighted upon a small elfling of few years with raven-coloured hair and deep blue eyes. As blue as this sapphire Celebrimbor thought.



Laying the ring down on the forge bench he reached down and snatched the elfling up into his arms, surprising the youngster. “Ah an impostor, trying to steal our trade secrets!” he said while tickling the elfling cradled in his arms.



“M’not an mposter!” the young elf declared in a haughty tone while glaring at Celebrimbor.



Celebrimbor laughed at the young elfling’s outrage. “Prove it!” Celebrimbor teased in a gentle tone of voice.



“My names Restor!” the elf declared as if that were proof enough.



Celebrimbor looked down at the elfling in his arms thoughtfully “Are you indeed.” After a few moments contemplation Celebrimbor found the answer he was looking for in the solid blue gaze of the elfling’s eyes.



But his young guest’s attention had drifted to the sapphire ring resting on the work bench. “S’nice!” Erestor declared in a tone filled with awe. Celebrimbor watched the youngling’s eyes widen even more, if that was possible, when he declared to him that he had made the ring.



The young elf continued to gaze at it in wonder for several minutes, then turning to the elder who was holding him in his arms he asked “Where’s Sadron?”



“Ah, I thought that was who you were seeking?”



“He is here!” a familiar voice said from behind them, and turning around the dark-haired Noldorin elf meet the highly amused eyes of the Telerin elf.



“I see you have met Erestor, my Lord. I hope he was no trouble.”



“None at all, I seldom find myself in the company of elflings the experience was wonderful.” Celebrimbor answered gently placing Erestor back on his feet on the forge floor.



“Perhaps you shall marry someday my Lord and discover their delights yourself?” Sadron enquired of the master smith.



“I believe that I will never marry, I am married to my trade and I also believe that fate has determined otherwise for me.” Celebrimbor answered in a saddened tone but one that seemed set and slightly wistful.



Sadron did not say anything more regarding the subject and quickly changed the topic.



“I believe that young Erestor shall become a scholar when he is older, one of great learning, such as a lore master. He is very curious by nature and eager to learn for one so young.”



“Not warrior material like his father then.” Celebrimbor stated with slight surprise.



“I do not believe so.” Sadron answered.



“Unusual. I have found during my long years that children usually adopt the traits, and mannerisms of their parents.” Celebrimbor mused. “Have you finished up for the day Sadron?”



“Yes my Lord. I shall be in bright and early tomorrow to finish my work” Sadron smiled and with a nod at Celebrimbor, turned to leave the forges Erestor now cradled in his arms.



“Oh, and Sadron!”



“Yes my Lord.”



“Although I personally do not mind, I suggest that you do not let Erestor wander down here again, it is not a safe place for youngsters to be in.”



“I agree my Lord.” Sadron turned and left with Erestor.



Now alone Celebrimbor’s mind drifted again to the elfling. So like his father and yet not! Only time will tell what shall happen to him, but I believe that he will never perform the duties he was born to perform, although he will face much suffering. May the Lady’s grace guide and protect him.


Chapter 8 - Maeg i hith ned lu (Penetrating the mists of time)

Looking back at my youth

I was content

Without dead knowledge

I was young, without time



Now I am sorrowful

Those days have long passed

Sadness and loss.



The great days of my youth

They were full of expectation.

The great journey that was before me then

Happiness was in store for me.



Na Laetha Geal M’Oige (English translation from the original Gaelic)

Sung by Enya, lyrics by Roma Ryan.







The sound of soft footfalls from behind Erestor alerted him to another’s presence and had the effect of startling him out of his memories. It was Glorfindel, the blond-haired Elda fell into step at Erestor’s side as he continued his walk through the beautiful gardens of Imladris. The air was filled with the sweet scent of flowers in full bloom and the evening sun beat down gently upon their backs as they walked.



At first they walked without any conversation, both feeling the need for companionable silence on such a summer’s day.



Erestor was genuinely wary around many of the inhabitants of Imladris, unable to find comfort in the presence of other elves, many of whom had not felt the enormity of loss that Erestor had, or if indeed they had many still had relatives to comfort them, unlike Erestor. He had never felt this way when it came to Glorfindel, feeling that he had much common ground with the ancient elf lord for both had lost a home that was special, beautiful and irreplaceable and both had suffered much sorrow and grief at it’s destruction at evil hands.



After awhile Glorfindel broke the silence that had encompassed them for the last fifteen minutes or so. “You still miss it, do you not, Eregion? It tears at your heart as effectively as a foe’s blade?” Glorfindel asked finally finding the courage to broach the delicate subject he wished to find out more about.



Erestor sighed but resisted his initial reaction of cutting Glorfindel off with a well aimed cutting remark, after all that would be running away and it was time that he stopped fleeing from his past, as painful as it undoubtedly was.



“Yes, the past still hurts! Memories of Eregion’s destruction still haunt me and my sleep is still plagued with nightmares of the worse kind. Guilt plagues my existence, by rights I should be dead with the rest of them; Celebrimbor and his nobles. But I survived where they should have, all due to Elrond’s intervention…an intervention that he still suffers for…lots of biting comments by the all so righteous Celeborn and Galadriel for they had spent a number of years in Eregion themselves and it is rumoured that she had a special place in her heart for Celebrimbor as he had for her. It is the worst kind of guilt, a survivor’s guilt. Somedays I wish that Elrond had left me wandering next to the charred ruin that was my home…left me for the orcs or grief to finish me off.”



“But then where would we be? We would never have had the privilege of having such a brilliant and expert seneschal and no doubt Elrond’s life would have been less content without his foster son. You must never think like that Erestor, although you have lost all of your family, we are your family now. Elrond looks on you as one of his sons, the twins look on you as another brother and I look on you as a trusted friend and companion, we all love you as such, the past is the past my friend the present is all that matters and the future…is unwritten, something to live for.”





Erestor sighed and sat down on the soft, green grass, Glorfindel silently joined him. “I still miss them you know; Sadron and his wife they were all the family I had, the parents I never knew.”



“Do you think that the dead we have loved ever leave us, their influence and memory is with you now, and someday when the day comes that you must finally leave Middle-Earth and sail to Valinor you will see them once more, of that I have no doubt.”



“I suppose it is a comfort.” Erestor said feeling lighter and slightly more carefree at this statement, turning to face the other elf he found himself wanting to ask him about Gondolin for he never had enquired about it. He had always assumed that like himself, Glorfindel would be reluctant to discuss a memory that was traumatic, and deeply painful.



“What about yourself, Glorfindel? Is the destruction of the hidden realm still as painful or has time helped ease the pain?”



Glorfindel was deeply unhappy about the way this conversation was starting to turn he like Erestor did not like to dwell on the destruction of his old home. The purpose of this conversation was to help Erestor bury his demons and finally move on, not to mention that it had the added benefits of allowing the elder elf the chance to get to know the mysterious elf better, and to satisfy his own curiosity about Erestor’s past… especially the bits that Elrond tactfully left out or would not tell him. But since Glorfindel had forced Erestor to reveal his feeling about Eregion, Glorfindel felt that in return he deserved to have an answer.



“It does!” he answered truthfully. “And like you my dreams are still haunted by the ruin of one of, if not the most beautiful elven realms to ever be built on Middle-Earth. Also, my long sojourn in Mando’s halls has helped ease the pain and I received help and guidance from the sister of the Feanturi, Nienna, she alone understands the full burden of sorrow and grief and as a consequence she knows best how to heal those who are maimed by it. By the time I finally left the halls of awaiting, almost all of my emotional wounds had healed over, leaving me with faint scars that are less painful than the previous open wounds.”



Erestor nodded his understanding and once again silence reigned between the two for some time until Glorfindel once again, as before, broke it having finally mustered the courage to ask a question that had plagued him for some time since he had spoken to Elrond.



“What of your parents, Erestor?”



“My mother’s name was Celebrin, a Telerin elf, who was renowned as a great healer having had a natural talent for the art from a young age. She loved her job and had a caring and loving nature. She had spent her childhood in the havens, Eglarest, before its destruction by orcs. She was still quite young when Eglarest was destroyed and had not attained her majority. She then went with Cirdan and the remnants of his people to the Isle of Balar where she dwelled for a long time, and then apparently she left and moved on to…I do not know where, because Sadron, her brother, said that he had disliked her decision to leave Balar and at that point in the tale he left off saying that it brought back bad memories of her foolishness and death.”



“What about your father? Surely you must know something about him?” Glorfindel questioned.



“No…I don’t!” Erestor stated flatly.



This answer surprised Glorfindel, he had thought that Erestor would know something of his father. This piece of information caused Glorfindel’s curiosity to increase tenfold and he determined to find Elrond and ask him outright...he obviously knew something. The blond elf had tried to avoid asking his old friend outright because he was fairly sure that Elrond would not tell him and then proceed to tell him that he had absolutely no right to know.



The two sat in contemplation for some time before Erestor suddenly rose to his feet. “I must go Glorfindel, it is not long to dinner time and I must fulfil my allotted duties and see to the servers.” With this said the mysterious elf turned his back on Glorfindel and made his way back towards the house.



Glorfindel sat for sometime after Erestor had left. Erestor’s past chasing about in his head…Elrond.



It all came back to Elrond.



Smiling a devious smile, Glorfindel rose and headed back towards the house and dinner.



Tonight…he would ask him tonight.


Chapter 9 - El eria e mor (A star rises out of the darkness)

The chapter everyone has been waiting with baited breath for.





With dinner now over, Glorfindel decided that it was time to ask Elrond about Erestor’s parentage. That was how Glorfindel found himself walking down the corridors of Imladris towards Elrond’s private chambers, the last rays of Anar had long since departed and the sky was dark, Varda’s stars scattered across it’s face, each a bright point of light in the darkness.



When Glorfindel entered Elrond’s chambers it was to find him standing on his balcony staring out into the night, a slight night breeze ruffling his hair and robes.



“Daro tiriel na enni o i duath, iaur mellon-nin!”* Glorfindel nearly jumped out of his skin, he had believed that Elrond had not heard him.



“I did not know that you knew I was here” Glorfindel muttered.



Elrond turned from the window a look of amusement on his face “Footsteps betray, can I help you Glorfindel?”



Glorfindel offered Elrond a rather sheepish grin and then joined him at the balcony. Glorfindel soon saw what Elrond was looking at.



Down below them Erestor was walking one of the woodland trails, seemingly deep in thought.



“He is deeply troubled.” Elrond stated.



“I would have to agree with you. He wonders constantly about his past and Eregion.” Glorfindel answered.



“The time draws near when I must tell him the truth. I have kept the truth from him for so long, for his own good, I cannot anymore. One day when he travels across the sea to the undying lands he will find out, and that is not how I would like him to discover the truth.”



“Will you tell me?” Glorfindel enquired softly.



Elrond turned from the window and looked into his friend’s eyes. “If I do, you must promise not to tell him, for it is my place to tell him.”



“You know Elrond, I really would have thought better of you! Here he is pining away, longing for a family and he has one right here in front of his eyes.” Glorfindel raged.



Elrond looked puzzled for a moment then burst into gales of laughter. Glorfindel just stared at him, wondering what was so funny. Surely his hunch had been correct. “Well, why else would you take him as your foster son and bring him back to Imladris.”



“He is not mine, although his father was a close acquaintance of mine.”



“So, who was his father?” Glorfindel asked again, now totally exasperated at this point.



“Well I am not at liberty to say Glorfindel” Elrond said in response, a highly mysterious tone to his voice.”



“Elrond! I have a sudden urge to commit extreme violence on a certain Peredhel” Glorfindel exclaimed trying hard to resist the sudden urge to punch the elf lord, suddenly aware that he was shouting and Erestor was within ear shot.



“I am not at liberty to say.” Elrond repeated. “But I must say that Erestor looks very radiant under starlight, do you not think so?”



It took Glorfindel a matter of seconds to work out the riddle. He stood stock still staring at the figure below them, how had he not seen it? Erestor was the mirror image of Gil-galad! The same eye-colour, hair colour and skin tone he even had the same whiplash tongue. The only visible difference was his build; Erestor was extremely slender where Gil-galad had been extremely well-built for an elf. The only explanation for this was that Gil-galad was the exception not the rule when it came to build.



“Tell me! How was such a thing possible without the full knowledge of his court” he whispered at last.



“That,”sighed Elrond “is another story entirely.”





AN – Applaud me or shot me. If I get more applause than abuse I will write the next chapter, otherwise I will just crawl away and change my pen name. Keep in mind that there is enough space in canon for this to be possible.



Papilio. (for now, ouch)





Translations



* “Stop glaring at me from the darkness/shadows, my old friend.”


Possible meaning of Erestor’s name = The one who is lonely. (My Beta’s research.)



Quenya: Eresse-Taar



Eresse-lonely



Taar- The one who is.


Chapter 10 - Hil Gil-galad (Heir of Starlight)

Life of late had been unbearable for Erestor. He felt inquisitive eyes upon him wherever he went, sensed hushed whispers, sentences that trailed off without explanation.



His heart ached in ways he could not articulate and there was none he could turn to for comfort.



Sighing, he set about the annual linen inventory; a hateful job that he would normally delegate but today was exactly what he needed, a mindless task to fill the time.



Time, to elves it was both a blessing and a curse.



“I spy with my little eye, something beginning with S.S.!”



It was Lindefal, Elrond’s Aide and Valet, self-styled comedian and royal pain in the butt!



“Stacked sheets!” was the instant comeback from the Steward of Imladris.



“Wrong! Sad Seneschal! I get to go again!” Chirped Lindefal, and did the fool actually clap his hands? Ga!



“Please! Go!” Said Erestor, shooing the Valet with an imperious hand.



“An Elf could feel unwanted!” Sniffed Lindefal.



“This Elf frequently does!” Sighed Erestor then he drew him-self regally upwards and manoeuvred Lindefal out of his way.



“How can one of your intelligence bear to count bed linens?” Lindefal enquired.



Erestor lost count and pointedly began over!



“Min…tad…neled.”



“Would Arda fall from her axis if you came up with an unmatched set? Hmm?” Lindefal never knew when to let go!



“MIN…TAD…NELED…!”



“What a sad thought! Orphaned sheets! No...not plural, for then one would simply pair them, wouldn’t one? Of course that would only work if they were of a matched colour! Otherwise.”



“For the love of the Valar! Desist you moron! What does it matter whether or no they pair up or match? This is laundry! Not the Middle Earth lonely hearts dating service!” Flared Erestor.



“Exactly! So why then do you count?”



Erestor turned the key in the lock of the walk-in cupboard, took a deep calming breath and then walked away!



“You DO know what your trouble is, don’t you, Erestor? You have no sense of Humour!” Came the voice of the closet.



Erestor found he had the capacity to block it almost totally!



“Even your ear points are starched! Erestor! Let me out of here!”



Erestor sighed, oh HOW torturing Lindefal could improve his mood!



Pausing to sign his inventory, Erestor heard footsteps behind him.



“Lindir! Good morrow child!”



“Good morrow, Master Erestor!” The Golden haired Minstrel of Imladris said shyly.



“Did you want something Lindir?” Erestor asked, knowing how shy the young Elf could be.



“Only to tell you that your Linen cupboard called out to me!” Lindir said awkwardly.



“Indeed? And what did it say?” Erestor said without hesitation.



“That it was little wonder Lord Elrond left you at Eregion!” Said Lindir.



“WHAT?” Erestor gasped.



“I suppose it has to do with the rumours about you!” Lindir innocently stated.



“What rumours child? Lindir?”



“Why, that Lord Elrond is your Sire!”



As Erestor caught the balcony rail for support a bellow loud enough to carve its way out of Moria yelled “ERESTOR! YOU SON OF A…..GET ME OUT OF HERE!”







“Drink! Erestor, drink child!” Said Elrond as he held a glass of miruvor to his Seneschal’s lips.



“I warned you, Elrond, that he had to be told! Once the rumour mill began to turn it was merely a matter of time!” Said Glorfindel.



“How am I to tell him? Where does one begin to explain that Arda was a vastly different world then, that it was for his own safety, that he was dearly wanted and yet…”



“And yet you gave me away!” Said Erestor, who was not quite as insensible as he appeared. Blue eyes swept open and the hurt all but broke Elrond’s heart!



“No! No, little one! I swear it was not my doing!” Elrond whispered.



Erestor squirmed out of Elrond’s arms and sat back on his heels.



“I should leave. You and Erestor have much to discuss.” Said Glorfindel.



“Even you, Glory? Does everyone in Imladris know I am illegitimate?” Erestor asked miserably.



Glorfindel shot an angry look at Elrond! “You see? This is what comes of procrastination! Deal, my Lord!”



The door of the study closed rather more noisily than was necessary and Elrond knew the time had come!



“No, you are most certainly not that, little one! Your parents were honourably wed, naming the name of the Lady Elbereth, and blessed by the Valar. You were sent to Eregion, to Sadron, your Mother’s brother to keep you in safety for fear of an assassin’s knife or some lethal potion in your food. You must never, ever think that your father sent you away from disappointment or lack of love!”



“Who is my father?” Erestor whispered, his hands gripping Elrond’s robes so tightly that his knuckles were ivory!



“Was, child, for he has fallen into shadow!”



The scream of torment was heard across the valley as Erestor fell apart in Elrond’s arms.



It was too much to bear, to find out that one had a father and lose him in the same sentence!



“Who was he?” Erestor gulped his breathing coming in tiny hiccoughs now that he had cried himself dry.



There was nowhere to turn now and so Elrond spoke the name.



“Ereinion Gil-galad”



Erestor froze.



“That is simply not possible! Why, that would make me…”



“My King!” Said Elrond as he eased of the chaise beside Erestor and went to his knees.



“If it was known…how the world as we know it would change! It must be secret!” Gasped Erestor.



“Exactly so, your majesty! Do you now see why you were secreted here after Eregion fell? These are perilous times! Were Sauron to discover that the one who faced him has a son…no, it does not bear thinking about!”



“But all here think I am your son!”



“Then we must let them, for if they believe they have solved the riddle they shall not seek an answer!”



“Who does know?” Erestor asked.



“Glorfindel, Gandalf and I. None others who still live, but now that you know, we must make sure you never encounter Lady Galadriel!”



“Shall I ever see him, Elrond? Or my mother?”



“One day! When the battle is won…or not…and the firstborn leave these shores for Valinor, Ereinion Gil-Gilad will wait upon the shore, a bear of an elf, you shall not mistake any other for him!”



“That day when the stable caught fire, it was my father who risked his life for me! He held me!” Whispered Erestor in awe.



“Aye, and for the first time since Eregion you spoke! He sat by you all that night as you lay asleep after I gave you the sleeping draught to calm you! He left you a gift!”



Elrond rose and fetched a small ebony casket bound in mithril which he placed into Erestor’s hands before bowing and leaving.



Erestor’s hands shook as he lifted the lid and found mementoes of his heritage.



A miniature framed in gold of his father.



A baby curl set into a crystal frame.



A baby’s shoe.



A sketch of Erestor asleep in his cradle in Lindon, drawn by his Sire.



A mithril handled dagger set with a sapphire so pure it made Erestor’s eyes hurt when held to the light! It was engraved in Elvish “Hil-Gil-Galad”



“He loved me! I met him, though I did not know it and he loved me!”



Suddenly all was right with Erestor’s world; he could wait!







Author’s Note.



Lindefal is not my own character – I liked him so much from The “Coronar” series that I borrowed him apologies to the author. It was intended as a compliment and he can be removed if you object.



Papilio.


Chapter 11 - Epilogue - I aderthad ned adar a ion (The reunion of father and son)

I’ll wait the signs to come,

I’ll find a way

I will wait the time to come.

I’ll find a way home.



My light shall be the moon

And my path - the ocean.

My guide the morning star.

As I sail home to you.



“Exile” performed by Enya. Lyrics by Roma Ryan.

Taken from the album “Watermark.”







The sun was setting, leaving a trail of amber fire in its wake. The night air was cold and Erestor, feeling chilled pulled his warm travellers cloak tighter to him. Silence reigned, the only sound was the gentle roll of the waves under the boat’s hull.



There were few occupants in the boat with Erestor, two others one Telerin the other a woodland elf. He did not try to initiate conversation he preferred the silence and the gentle lolling of the sea to company. It seemed to him that old, familiar habits die hard.



He was one of the last to leave Middle-Earth to join his kin over the seas. He had lingered when others had departed, unwilling to forsake the land he was born into and unable to refuse the call of duty.



For he had remained with Elladan and Elrohir until they departed the world forever, offering service, loyalty, friendship and comfort when the inevitable occurred. The twins had been unable to refuse the call of the mortal blood flowing through their veins, they had tried for they were unwilling to leave their parents forever but in the end it had triumphed over them.



Erestor had lived in Imladris with them until the end, unwilling to leave his old charges while they still lived. How could he leave them, the elves he had known since their birth, which he had taught, trained and comforted over the years? In the end Erestor concluded that part of it was to do with his reluctance to allow anyone to experience the depth of loneliness he had felt through his life.



The end had been painful to say the least, goodbyes always are…especially the eternal ones that last forever. For the firstborn have a very different fate from the followers, it was likely that they would never meet again. Death was an acquaintance of old to Erestor, he was sure he could survive two more. It had been a strange experience watching them die from old age, a natural occurrence and one that elves did not experience.



Arwen had also departed the world forever not long after Aragorn had forsaken his life as is the custom of ancient Numenor. Grief had taken her and so the likeness of Luthien was once again lost to the world.



Erestor had made a pilgrimage to Gondor before he left to pay his last respects to Aragorn. He had been fond of him as a child, the young man-child who used to stalk him and hide the quills that Erestor used to write the household legers.



It was time! The time had come for him to make the journey across the sea and join his kin, it could be put off no longer and besides there was nothing and no one to stay for. He had seen everyone he cared for safely away to their rest and his duty had been completed.



He would be able to see Elrond again, how he had missed the elf who had been a substitute father to him! And he would finally be reunited with his real father, Gil-galad…he still could hardly comprehend the truth. It had been such a blow to him to know that his father had been there all the time, but still out of reach. This time he would be greeting his father, not his king.



The stars shone above him, small pinpricks of light in a black velvet sky. Pulling his cloak further around him he allowed sleep to overtake him.



* * * * * * *





He awoke to the sound of voices, sweet singing voices drifting through the mist.



A Elbereth Gilthoniel,

silivren penna miriel

o menel aglar elenath,

na-chaered palan diriel

o galadhremmin ennorath

nef aear, si aearon,

Fanluilos, le linnathon

nef aear, si aearon.



Erestor felt all his troubles fade slowly from his body, all his grief and worldly cares left him in that moment, drifting away into the air with the last fading notes of the beautiful prayer.



All of a sudden the mist was swept aside as if by an invisible hand and there before him were the undying lands and the haven of Alqualonde. The sun was bright in a bright blue, cloudless sky and there anchored in the haven were the beautiful, radiant swan ships of the Teleri their pale wood shining in the sun.



Erestor knew at that moment that he was home, truly at home. He had travelled a long way and a lifetime to find it but here it was in front of him. In a way part of him had always doubted whether such a place could really exist, when there was so much evil and pain in the world…but here it was tangible proof that such a heavenly place existed. All paths led here.



The boat he was on docked at last, greeted by the welcoming cheers of the Telerin inhabitants of the havens. A sea of blonde and silver-blonde heads were to be seen everywhere he looked…except…there. There was a patch of darkness among the light, he found himself drawn to it. He walked forward slowly, gently easing his way through the crowds hovering around the jetty.



What he saw caused him to come to a sudden halt. It was Elrond and, and…Sadron and…where was his father?



He found himself walking towards them, disappointment heavy in his heart. Elrond immediately pulled Erestor into a tight embrace, telling him how much he had missed him.



Sadron followed Elrond’s lead embracing his sister-son. “Erestor, I can hardly believe that it is you! How you have grown and matured, when I departed from life you were an elf of a mere twenty years your mother will be proud.”



“My mother?” Erestor whispered. “I’m finally getting to meet her?”



“Yes she is waiting for you in Tirion.”



Erestor nearly broke down right there at the thought of meeting the mother he had never known. Bringing himself back under control he composed himself enough to whisper. “Where is my father? I had hoped that he would be here to meet me.”



It was Elrond who provided an answer. “He is. He wanted your meeting to be private he is down on the beach.”





* * * * * * *





Erestor approached with trepidation, the warm, golden sand under his feet muffled his footsteps as he approached the dark-haired figure standing on the tide line gazing silently out to sea.



Before he could get to close, however the figure turned to face him. Twin sets of identical sapphire eyes met across the short distance between them, one set scared, desperately seeking acceptance in their twins while the other set were filled with tears for a scarred childhood and opportunities lost.



Gil-galad closed the gap between them with one long stride, pulling his long lost son to him for an embrace.



Erestor felt an overwhelming sense of completion. He had found himself at last...he need spend no more years of his life wondering about whom he is and who his parents were.



After what seemed like an eternity of sobbing brokenly into his father’s chest, he finally calmed down. Gil-galad broke the silence between them.



“I have waited so long for this moment, waiting and watching from afar. I spent the years at Imladris before the siege of Barad Dur longing for this, wanting to tell you the truth. But I was scared of the pain it would cause you, and the position that would be thrust upon you as the son of the High King. I never wanted that life for you. The life of a king is filled with duty and isolation. I would never inflict that upon you but I fear that in protecting you from one life I inadvertently subjected you to a worse fate, filled with the reality of war and grief nin-ion*”



“You were not to know ada. You cannot see into the future.” Erestor replied.



“If only I could have.” Gil-galad muttered.



A comfortable silence surrounded them as the stood together gazing out on the majesty of the sea.



“It’s beautiful, magnificent and I can feel its pounding in my heart and head…it calls to my soul.” Erestor said his eyes filled with wonder.



“It makes sense that you would be plagued by the sea-longing. You mother is the same, it is clearly the result of the Telerin blood in your veins.” Gil-galad replied.



“I cannot wait to meet her.”



“She longs to meet you.”



“Shall we?”



“Yes, I think it is time.”



Taking his son’s hand in his Gil-galad turned and walked back up the beach towards the fair city. Both chatted amiably as they went to embrace a new life…together at last.





Dedicated to Soledad Cartwright, for all your encouragement and support.



A huge thanks goes to my long-suffering Beta reader! Thanks for you support and suggestions.



As always a huge thanks to everyone who reviewed!



Papilio. J





* My Son.




O Elbereth Star-kindler,

(white) glittering slants-down sparkling-like-jewels

from firmament glory [of] the star-host,

to-remote-distance after-having-gazed

from tree-tangled middle-lands,

on-this-side [of] ocean, here [on this side of] the Great Ocean,

Fanuilos, to thee I will chant

on-this-side [of] ocean, here [on this side of] the Great Ocean!
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