Forgotten Refugee

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.