Forgotten Refugee

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.