Forgotten Refugee

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.”