Rating: R
Pairings: Elrond/group/ m/m, m/f.
Summary: Fall trading brings new guests and old friends to Rivendell.
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Rivendell, in a time before the Great Ring's rediscovery ...
In the darkness of night, Elrond and Banidur walked arm and arm along the lantern-lit riverside path deep in conversation. They were returning to Banidur's campsite after watching the dancing on the lawns after dinner. A ring of torches in the distance surrounded the camp by the riverside, and formed a flickering ring of protection and security for the traders. They had posted sentries, little aware of how well guarded the secret valley truly was.
Banidur's son and grandson had assisted the dishwashers tonight, and had also later enjoyed the festival atmosphere of the dancing. They followed behind, with little Halodor asleep on his father's shoulder, dreaming of tall Elves, flickering bonfires and laughter all around. Banidur and his party had arrived for the fall trade fair a few days ago and were camped downstream from the houses of Rivendell along a grassy sward. After the embarrassing incident where a member of the thief's guild had come with his party several years ago, he was cautious to the extreme now, and kept his hand-picked trade party close, and camped together well away from the main houses of Rivendell.
A party of Dwarves was camped upstream at the edge of the lawns, and other guests and traders filled the guest wing and stayed with friends and family in the stacked houses. Rivendell had full houses and more this trading season. Elrond could not convince the man walking beside with any words or deeds that the past incident was forgotten and forgiven, so he let Banidur set his own rules to keep the trade opportunities open between their cities. Their campsite was neat and orderly, with great respect shown to the land and river. Banidur did not want anything to prevent them from being invited back next spring. Trade with the Elves and Dwarves was making his family wealthy, his reputation strong, and his business secure in these changing and uncertain times.
As they strolled along the narrow grassy path, Elrond looked at the tall and robust man walking beside him in the flickering light. He had a real fondness for this man from the south, he was a bit stouter and his short curls were grayer than last visit, but he was still a hard working man of deep integrity and honesty, a true friend and real craftsman at the forge. Preserving their business relationship, Elrond respected the man's personal space while he was at Rivendell, yet he still enjoyed the solid muscular arm and weighty foursquare feel of the man arm in arm along side him. He had brought his son and grandson on this journey, with many tears at the parting from mother and grandmother he had confessed.
The stout little lad was 6 years old now, and pleased to accompany his grandfather and father on this important and mystical journey. The curly-haired fellow was the pet of the tradesmen's party, and he had made the journey mostly napping in the saddle before one or another of the group. The sun had touched his nose and cheeks with a blush, and a scattering of freckles added to his impish charm. Sleeping in the billowing tents under the stars was such an adventure he would never have fallen asleep except for the tiredness he felt from long days of travel. He was a tough little fellow and never complained, he trusted his father and grandfather, and took them for examples of how he should behave. He was proud to be a trader this year, and was determined to do his job well. Never in his life would he forget his excitement as they arrived at their destination after many days travel.
They approached their assigned meeting place in the darkness just before dawn. At the edge of the forest they were met by the border sentries, and he got his first look at the mysterious Elves he had heard so much about at the hearthside. All tall, some dark haired, some with blond hair caught up in braids, they were dressed in gray and green, and they greeted the party with warm words. The sentries blindfolded the riders with great care and respect. The soft cloth tied gently over Halodor's eyes was a mystery and adventure in itself. Their entrance route to the valley was still kept secret, trusted though this party was. Halodor's father had explained this would happen, and he found it exciting and frightening at the same time, He snuggled back closer to his father in the saddle and waited for what would happen next.
Escorts led their horses and pack train carefully down the steep trails and they switched back a few times as far as Halodor could tell. Soft voices spoke in Elvish all around him, and he listened hard for the few words he had learned from his father. He wished he had paid more attention now as he heard the musical sounds drift around him. The soft voices, their horse's steps muffled in the deep leaves and soft soil, and the clink of harness and swish of tails were all that broke the dawn's calm.
When the trade party arrived deep in the valley his wonder had grown as he heard the loud rushing of a river over the stony bed. The path was even now and the horses had stopped. His large brown eyes had opened very wide as the blindfolds were removed from the trade party downstream from the settlement, and he beheld Rivendell in the dawn's light. His gasp of awe was echoed by others in the party arriving for the first time. Mystical Rivendell was deeply entrenched in the myths of men from the South, and to see the city rise before them in the early morning mist, tall towers lifting upwards into the sunlight and wreathed in roofed corridors, was to see a dream and legend come to life before their very eyes.
His eyes opened even wider in awe of the dark haired Lord of Rivendell who had ridden out to meet them, for who else could this figure be? Seeming to appear out of the mist, dressed in silvery green clothing, on a giant gray horse, Lord Elrond the legendary warrior, respected teacher and healer, and subject of countless myths and stories, took physical form right before his youthful eyes. Was this also the evil and dangerous Elf his grandmother had warned him about? One of unsavory habits and unclean behavior? What should be believed?
As the Master of Rivendell approached the trading party he removed the gray cloak's heavy hood from his head, yet he was still somewhat lost in the heavy fog dressed in pale green and gray. A silver circlet glinted upon his brow, and strands of the blackest hair rose and swirled in the gusty morning breezes along the riverside. Halodor believed this myth had materialized right before his eyes from the heavy air and his mouth fell open. His grandfather and father had told him many tales of their adventures in the mythical city, and here was its legendary Master smiling and greeting their party right before his eyes.
With a nudge from his father, he remembered his manners and greeted Elrond with courtesy and respect in carefully pronounced Sindarin as they shook hands. He shyly stuttered out his rehearsed lines and then took in the figure before him with rapt attention. Elrond smiled and was very pleased at his efforts, greeting him in Sindarin as well before switching to the common tongue. Halodor was very glad to be seated before his father in the big saddle with a strong arm around him. His mother and grandmother had also told him many tales about the Elves, stories of a different sort, and he was not certain what he should believe at this very moment.
Elrond's fingers were long and slender, and he noted that tiny white scars criss-crossed them as they shook hands. The clear gray eyes seemed sad to him, but the smile was warm and the words kind. Still stricken silent with wonder he also noted the fine velvet fabric of the quilted riding jacket, the woven design in the green leggings, and the way the gray cloak shimmered in the dawn mist. The tall gray leather boots were embroidered with entwining vines and leaves, and silver threads glimmered in the design. Halodor was afraid this apparition might disappear before his eyes unless he watched very closely.
He was a smart lad and well tutored by his father and grandfather in observation and proper behavior, he was in training to be a tradesman. Watching closely, he noted Elrond's hair, caught in a simple silver circlet, as it rose in long curling strands in the wind along the riverside. Bright fall leaves flashed as they turned and swirled in the mist around the trade party. He felt he was actually in one of the wondrous stories told by the fireside, and then smiled as he realized he was indeed part of the next story to be told.
His first view of Rivendell in the mist, the swirling leaves, the cool air and the gentle smile on Elrond's face, was a memory that stayed with Halodor the rest of his life. He never missed another trade party to Rivendell the rest of his days. He would never have believed at this moment that he would later apprentice at the forges of Rivendell in his teenaged years, and he could little guess now that his life would be wrapped up with the Elves in the great battle against evil that lay many years in the future. The sad gray eyes, strong handshake, and the gentle smile of the Master of Rivendell had won Halodor's trust and affection immediately despite what grandmother had warned him about. He thought the very air crackled around Elrond with power and energy.
After greeting the rest of the party, Elrond came back along side and offered Halodor a seat before him for the ride to the campsite. Looking at his father and grandfather for permission, his heart raced in excitement. With nods from both he was handed over to the broad back of the gray stallion, and he noted that Elrond had ridden out bareback. Elrond slid back a bit to make room, and gathered his billowing cloak around them both for warmth as he had noted that the boy's hands were cold as he shook them. He gathered up a portion of the long wavy mane for Halodor to hold, as there was no bridle either, and slid a protective arm around him to hold him safe. Already wonders upon wonders were piling up in the boy's senses and memories. Elrond controlled his massive mount with just a word, and rode comfortably without the heavy gear that men relied on. He watched the horse's large gray ears as they moved and were attentive to any word addressed to him. The dappled gray neck arched before him and muscles rippled as the horse moved. Warm within the soft and weightless cloak, feeling the powerful animal beneath his short little legs, Halodor felt he too was legendary at this moment.
With a word and gentle nudge they rode forward at a slow walk, and Halodor looked around at his friends and relatives beaming with pride and excitement. Who would believe this tale when got back home? And, what would grandmother think? His father just smiled and chuckled a bit, what an introduction to the trade fair this was for his son. Elrond looked down at the curly hair and felt the small warmth against his body. He remarked with a smile to Banidur that it had been many, many years since his own sons had been small enough to ride with him. Banidur did not realize that many years meant centuries in mortal time.
Halodor craned his neck to take it all in as they crossed the stream and approached the stacked houses on their way down river. His mouth formed an "oh" of wonder as they passed under an elevated walkway and beyond the towering Great House. He could not wait to explore its many stairs and corners, an adventure his father had promised him. He had not been certain he wanted to wash dishes after dinner, however now he would reserve judgment in light of all he had seen already.
After routine business at breakfast, Elrond spent some of the day in the forges with the Dwarven trading party and the rest of the afternoon wandering between trading stations set up along the lawn. Bright pennants fluttered in the breezes and many languages filled the air. Clouds filtered the fall sunlight and balmy breezes made for a perfect day, and belied the coming of winter. Stalls sold foods from braziers, cheeses and fruits, and ale flowed from Rivendell's ample cellars. Leaving the household needs buying to Lindefal, Erestor, and the household staff, and trusting the needs of the forge to the smiths, Elrond wandered as he pleased, his eyes taking in the wealth of goods brought for trade. He was joined by this old friend or that one as the day progressed, but offers for company were shrugged away with a smile as the day promised to stretch out long into the night. The festival air in the settlement was exciting, but tiring in the extra details that needed minding. He was not in the mood for dalliance tonight. Such are the burdens of leadership he thought as he was greeted by yet another shy smile and grasp of the hand. Where were all these smiles and winks in the long lonely nights of winter he wondered? Was it the festival that sparked this rash of flirtatiousness amongst the normally very friendly inhabitants?
As he strolled among the booths, his eye was caught by a pile of tiny oval gems that lay glowing in a corner booth. He carefully laid them out along a line and smiled as the sun brought their milky depths to life with rainbows of fire. He selected them for a ring for Arwen. Milky and opalescent, they were pale as the moon until turned just right, when they flashed with a rainbow of colors, just as his daughter could turn from studious and serious to merry and prankish in the blink of an eye. An entwining silver band of leaves around the gemstones was quickly commissioned, and the ring would be ready before the dinner gathering. He had been thinking of a token of affection for his daughter, and the ring seemed to suit his mind today as the perfect gift. It would be a ring of fire to bind their hearts with affection.
Lindefal was just now involved with buying great lengths of threads wrapped in silver and gold for the embroiderers to use, and had a thick sheave of leaves of the finest parchment for the library under his arm. There was always a need for new leaves of parchment as older works were re-copied to preserve them through the ages. Lindefal's aide had a stack of soft leather sheets in his arms, ready for tooling and fitting into book covers. Elrond had selected several bottles of particularly fine inks already; the library would be in good shape for the long winter's work amongst the manuscripts and books.
Erestor had seemingly been everywhere all day, buying this and that and fussing over the guests and their needs. He and Findalor had been very visible and present at all the gatherings, and the Household Guards were there as well, though less conspicuous. Findalor was not as forgiving as the Master of the House, and well remembered the murder of the dwarf at a previous gathering of traders. Cirgalad and Galenbrethil had been trading medicines for supplies as well, and new students at the medical school were adding new wonders to their experience through exposure to the Dwarves and Men present at the trade fair.
Elrond looked up and saw Erestor buying gemstones, and Galenbrethil fingering a length of cloth, thinking that his Household Staff was managing to be everywhere at once this week. As busy as they all were, the festival atmosphere, the introduction of new materials, and the new faces all contributed to a refreshing change of pace after a long and sleepy summer season. Pottery, ore, metals, fabrics and leathers all changed hands in busy trading amidst laughter and jesting. As he looked around the crowd, his attention was captured by Banidur walking towards him carrying Halodor in his arms, wrapped in a blanket. Elrond turned and was attentive instantly at the sight of a bloody rag tied around the lad's knee. He moved towards them in concern, calling out and beckoning to Galenbrethil as he went.
Elrond directed Banidur to the dais nearby and they sat Halodor in the central chair. A wink from Banidur indicated that the injuries were not serious, and he stepped back to watch. Halodor was keeping a brave face but big tears coursed down his sunburned cheeks. Elrond tucked the blanket in around his shoulders and sat down on the dais before the small fellow. The child was soaking wet. He gently took the tiny bleeding hands in his long fingers. "Here, you sit in the Master's big chair, and tell me what is the matter. I see an injury to this knee and your hands are scuffed. What has happened to you?" Galenbrethil came along behind them with her healer's case in hand, and she sat next to Elrond on the dais, tucking her skirt and healer's apron under her long legs as she crossed them beneath her. Their seats beneath the boy's eye level put him a bit off guard and eased his fears. Halodor looked at them through big eyes rimmed in tears, he was embarrassed to have caused a fuss when grandfather was busy working.
"Here, here," said Elrond as he reached up and wiped a tear away with a silken handkerchief. "Did you know that Elven healers ask permission to treat any wound first? May we look and see what has happened to you?" Halodor nodded in growing wonder at this kind treatment. His grandfather stood nearby with arms crossed, but not looking angry. In fact he was hiding a tiny smile as he stood waiting, who would believe this story at home? The legendary Master of Imladris seated before his grandson while providing first aid to a scrape?
Elrond gestured to Galenbrethil as he introduced her and they opened her healer's case and held it for him to peer into. The small bottles, dishes and rolled cloths did not look too frightening. Halodor spoke in a tiny voice, "I was looking at the fish in the river, and as I leaned forward for a better look, I slipped and fell in. I fell on some rocks."
Elrond took his small hands carefully and dabbed the cuts with a soft cloth and an antiseptic cream. He showed the cleaned scrapes to Banidur and Galenbrethil, and judged them not too serious. Each hand was carefully wrapped in a small bandaging strip of cloth. Then Elrond sat back and gently unwrapped the handkerchief from around the injured knee. The trousers were torn and fairly soaked in blood, and Halodor flinched at the touch. The several cuts here were deeper and had bled quite a bit.
"Tsk, tsk, this is more serious," Elrond remarked with a look up at Halodor. "How did you come to cut your knee like this?" Halodor just looked with wide eyes at the Lord of Imladris seated before him, gently holding his knee and examining the cuts. His grandfather cleared his throat and answered, "Well, our little adventurer was on the river bank when he took a tumble, he fell a good way from the bank down into the water, and some of the rocks were quite sharp. He gave me quite a start until we fished him out." Elrond nodded, "I see," and he reached for another jar of medicine and rolled a bandage to dab the blood away. Halodor was completely caught up in looking at the row of jars and strips of bandages that Galenbrethil had laid out, and the gentle touch and soft voice of the Master had calmed his fears.
His knee was cleaned up quickly and medicine was applied. A soothing cream eased the pain and a clean bandage was neatly tied around the knee. Elrond gave his thigh a soft pat and said, "Now, you must come and see me tomorrow so we may check your progress. We cannot have an infection while you are here working at the trade fair with grandfather now can we?" Halodor nodded no and smiled a little smile as his grandfather gave him a wink. Erestor had wandered over to see what the gathering was about and Elrond looked over his shoulder at the tall Elf with arms full of purchases and aides at either side. "Master Erestor can have these trousers repaired for you, and can find a pair for you to wear in the meantime. Maybe you would like some Elven clothes to wear while you are here?" Halodor nodded yes with surprise at this unexpected offer of a gift.
Turning again to glance at Erestor, the Master's gray eyes looked steadily at the Head of the Household who was frantically thinking of where he might locate a pair of trousers this tiny at such short notice. The look he was getting from Elrond indicated he would comply at any cost. He smiled, "Of course we can repair these trousers. Why don't you come with me now and we shall go see what we can find for you to wear?" His grandfather nodded and picked Halodor up from the chair to follow Erestor on this new adventure. The boy's large brown eyes looked at Elrond over his grandfather's shoulder as they walked away and as he waved goodbye he whispered in Sindarin, "Thank You."
Dinner that night had been merry and the hall crowded with guests. Arwen had loved the new ring and showed it to many with pride. She had kissed her father after a warm hug of thanks. Small tokens exchanged between them were especially prized, and tightened the deep bond of love they felt. She presented him with a small, carefully crafted box that contained a small silver hair clip in the shape of a leaf with acorns. He smiled his thanks at her sensitivity to his appreciation of a well-made work and example of true craftsmanship. He kissed his daughter on the cheek, and then they were caught up in the gathering for the meal as the servers appeared.
Halodor appeared at dinner in a new costume of Elven make, green and gray, with a small cloak of his own, lightweight and warm. He barely limped as once again the large crowd and great dining hall took all his attention. He felt so grown up on this adventure, and was greeted by Erestor at door with a sweeping bow. All those embraced by Elrond were welcomed by the household staff as well, and the small fellow was winning hearts right and left with his plucky attitude and gentle manners. Elladan gathered him up with his father's permission, and the diners took their places for the evening meal.
After several days of trading, members of the trade fair parties were becoming accustomed to the open, warm and friendly environment that was Rivendell's natural atmosphere. The flirtatious servers were especially creative this night, and entertained with cherry words and warm smiles. Elrond wondered if he always got this much attention, or was just noticing it in his tiredness tonight.
A warm smile and wink from across the room was making him really wish this was some other slow and quiet evening, some other lazy day's end, and not the frantic close of a long day of activity that had drained his energies after a week of the trade fair. A server brushed his shoulder as his glass was refilled; a sweet whisper of invitation and kiss on the ear brought a smile to his face. What a bounty of pleasure beckoned his tired self, and yet he had an evening of dancing to oversee. He reached for his glass of wine with a sigh.
All the guest parties were accustomed to much different environments, and it was sometimes days before guests could stop looking about them in wonder at the sights that met their eyes. Dining in the Great Hall took some getting used to for some of the more reserved guests. Halodor sat with Elladan and Elrohir in the corner of the large dining hall, and the usual pranks abounded to the frowns of both fathers in warning. The twins made a fuss over the wounds of the little fellow, and showed a few of their own scars as well. Elladan carried Halodor to the kitchens on his back, and made the little one captain of his dishwashing team that evening. Things were somewhat reserved in the pantries due to the small one's age, but plenty of horseplay made the clean up lively enough.
The Elven love of the night and the stars was also an unusual attraction to the guests, and they joined the evening activities with interest. Dancing on the lawn took on a rambunctious aspect as inexperienced guests joined in the often-complex steps and inter-twining lines of Elven dancing. Halodor watched as long as he could, then fell asleep in his father's lap. Elrond sat in his chair on the raised dais and watched the crowd in the flickering light of the bonfire and lanterns with a weary smile and occasional chuckles as the normally complex and perfect lines fell apart in clumsy tumbles. A smile here and a word there invited his attention for the evening, made an offer of companionship or a chance to dance, but he waved them all by, it had been a long day indeed. Lifting the tankard of ale was even getting tiresome.
A general pile up formed at one point as the rapidly moving line entangled itself into a bundle of arms and legs, and he found himself doubled over in laughter. The musicians added to the mix with increased tempos and impromptu changes in the tunes.
Glorfindel had disentangled himself from beneath that pile and staggered away with a shaking head and arms held well out for protection, but with a smile growing across his face. Dancing was never like this at elegant and stately Calas Galadhon. Elrond could hear his daughter's laughter across the lawn, and watched with a chuckle as Elladan crawled out from beneath tumbled dancers on his belly. The flickering bonfire sent sparks flying into the night air and the ring of torches around the lawn formed wavering designs in the gusty breezes. Elrond noted it was yet another ring of fire that gathered them together in comradeship and a love of life this night.
Even the less outgoing traders from Lorien were gathered on the lawns tonight, the cooling breezes and overwhelming joy in the gathering affecting even their stern countenances. Arwen even got some of them to join the less vigorous dances. Legolas' blond hair flying behind him a turn caught Elrond's eye. Even the wary and watchful party from Mirkwood seemed to be enjoying themselves. The party of Dwarves, too dignified to dance with those so much taller than they, enjoyed the activities with round after round of ale and boisterous song. Whatever rumors circulated about the Master of Rivendell, it could rarely be said that his guests felt want or were treated poorly. Tales from this fall's trade fair would make the rounds of the taverns for months afterwards, there was something relaxed and plentiful about this season's meeting, and the deep and secret valley and the ring Vilya embraced them all and granted them respite from care and woes.
Elrond was holding a tankard of ale in one hand and in the other a long length of embroidered ribbon that Findalor had bought for Galenbrethil. In the flickering firelight he thought it would look fetching in her dark wavy hair. In all the activity Findalor had had not seen her yet that day, and he was caught up in the dance at this moment. Guests and friends sat in the other chairs and benches on the dais as they took a breather, and finally Galenbrethil and Findalor came by to collect her gift. She gave Elrond a small pottery bowl with a lid, and he opened it to find a creamy substance with a mild, minty fragrance. She smiled as he sniffed carefully, she was well aware of his dislike of strong scents. "It is a cure for headaches that men use," she replied to his raised eyebrows. Rub a bit on your temples and take a whiff, then lay down a bit. She gave a glance to the large tankard beside him. "Drink much more of that ale and you can try this cure in the morning!" She tied the length of ribbon along her long braid, and then she caught Findalor's hand and they whirled away and joined the line forming for the next dance.
Banidur came by the dais with his family to bid them good evening, and Elrond took the chance to leave the festivities with them. After a very long and busy day he thought he might use some of the headache cream tonight, ale or no ale. Lanterns lit the trail to the campsite downstream and as they strolled along in the cooling air the sounds of song and laughter faded behind them. He was glad to leave the noisy party behind him and enjoy the company of these solid and companionable friends. As they walked the long path downstream he relaxed a bit. He liked the company of men for the most part, straightforward and easy to read, with no undercurrents of auras and secret desires to cope with, he found them refreshing and delightful. He slipped his arm Banidur's as they walked, thankful for something to balance on, as was Banidur. He had enjoyed more than a tankard too many of the fine ale of Rivendell.
They discussed the good prices Banidur was getting in trade and the general success of the fair for everyone as the river ran merrily beside them and the stars glinted ever more brightly away from the house lights and the bonfire. They approached the ring of torches and the sentry and Elrond paused. With a fond smile, he bid sleepy Halodor good eve as they parted at the campsite.
Returning slowly along the river path Elrond looked with pride at the silhouetted outlines of the towers and at the twinkling lights of the stacked houses of Imladris. He never failed to appreciate the beauty and wonder that was his city, and every view offered something new to see, a unique aspect. The evening mist that formed in the fall season was rising from the river and wreathed the city's foundations in fog so it again appeared to float above the ground. He entered the paved courtyard and slowly climbed the spiraling stairs to his study. The idea of his large square bed, soft linens and piles of soft pillows was very enticing tonight. He thought with a chuckle that he must be feeling his centuries if he longed for an empty bed and a good night's rest. With a houseful of guests, well-loved friends and attractive strangers, he still sought solitude tonight. He placed his hands within his sleeves as he climbed the last few steps; it was chilly on this side of the house this late at night in the fall season.
As he entered his study he was glad to see a fire crackling in the study fireplace and thought that Lindefal might have left his evening of enjoyment to see to the Master's chambers. But it was Glorfindel who rose from the large chair before the fireplace and offered a glass of wine with a smile and a greeting. He was a bit disheveled and untidy after engaging in the boisterous dancing and merry making on the lawns, and his rosy cheeks indicated more than a single glass of wine had passed his lips. Elrond took the proffered glass with thanks and backed up to the fire for a toasty homecoming after the cold air near the river had chilled him. He would be the first to admit that the Elves of Rivendell had become urban and had lost some of the natural Elven resiliency to weather that marked their cousins in Mirkwood and Lorien.
He remarked on Glorfindel state of being and appearance and got a snappy response in return. They bantered a bit and Glorfindel admitted he was happy to be back in Imladris, and had especially enjoyed the trade fair this year. He announced his plans to stay through the winter and not return to Caras Galadhon with the trading party. Elrond nodded with gladness, Glorfindel's calm wisdom and good sense always stood in good stead, whether in simple matters of household management or in times of great need. "I see your small patient survived your treatment today," he jested. "I believe you have made quite the dedicated worshiper of the lad by your attentions." Elrond shook his head; "It was been many a year since a small hand reached for mine, those days have long since passed in my life. Elladan and Elrohir are often away, and Arwen can take care of herself these days." The touch of tiredness and melancholy in his voice reached Glorfindel even through the fog of celebration clouding his mind. Elrond turned with a sigh and held his hands to the cherry blaze in the fireplace. Thousands of years of friendship between these two ancient fellows gave Glorfindel deep knowledge of the sadness and joys of Elrond's life. Glorfindel saw beyond the deep sadness of those clear gray eyes, knew the depth of sorrow at Gil-Galad's death, and the loneliness of spirit he felt since Celebrian's passing over the Western Seas.
Glorfindel joined him beside the fire and drained his glass, setting it on the mantelpiece. He pushed long strands of blond hair over his shoulder. "Do you mind a bit of company tonight?" He asked. "I am not certain I could make it to my chambers at this point in the evening," he said with a wry smile. "Well," Elrond chuckled, "Come on then, but I warn you, I am tired, and headed to bed, and to sleep." They climbed the stairs to the upper level bedroom arm in arm speaking of the evening's events and laughing again at the unusual turn the dances had taken. Glorfindel gestured to the grass-stained knees of his breeches and a tear in his sleeve as souvenirs of the night's activities. "Never in Lothlorien," he said with raised eyebrows and pretended sternness.
They stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at Findalor standing by the fireplace and Galenbrethil piled up in the center of the bed in stacks of pillows. Stands of candles flickered around the room, the only lights beside the dying fire. She smiled and said, "We thought you would never arrive, and look who you have brought along with you! Glorfindel, it has been a very long time since we were close with you. I was beginning to believe you preferred our noble cousins in the Golden Wood to your old friends." She was unbraiding her long hair and had draped the new ribbon across the ornate bedpost.
Elrond continued into the chamber and reached up to remove the simple circlet from his head and place it on the broad desk nearby. He unwound the remains of the day's braid and ran fingers through his wind-tangled strands of hair. He took the small ceramic dish out of his deep pocket and slipped out of his outer robe, strolling across the room to hand the cream to her. "Healer, please demonstrate the use of this new medicine for us." Sitting on the edge of the bed he flopped back into her lap amongst the pillows and closed his eyes. She gathered his long hair aside and removed the lid of the small jar. Dipping her fingers into the creamy substance she gently she dabbed a bit at each temple and began to massage the fragrant cream into the skin. She stroked his face and eased the tired lines around his eyes with loving fingers. She had calmed his troubled mind many times before, and in much less pleasant situations that this. She smiled at their comfort and peace now, and stroked his temples with real affection and attention to her task. Findalor leaned on the mantle before the fire and finished off his tankard of ale. He chewed thoughtfully on the bread and cheese in hand; it had been a long day for him as well. He was content to stand before the fire and rest his watchful eyes and weary mind. Galenbrethil's beautiful long hair fell forward as she leaned over her patient with attentive fingers. He loved looking at her whatever task she engaged in.
Glorfindel was removing his clothes quite dramatically, but with much difficulty. Even his fumbling fingers had a grace that belied his inebriated state. He was actually able to hop about without falling as he removed his trousers. Elrond opened an eye at the laughter of the others to see the normally noble and grave Glorfindel hopping about on one foot entangled in his clothing. His ashen hair fell into his face and waved with his efforts. He managed to finally remove the trousers, and posed before them proud and nude, gesturing to his body in pride that he had managed to remove his clothing with no assistance. This troublesome task accomplished, he walked to the distant side of the bed, pulled the layers of soft linens aside and with great aplomb crawled onto bed behind Galenbrethil. He tossed his long hair back with an exaggerated sweep of the hand. With a word of goodnight, he was asleep as his head touched the pillow.
Findalor was laughing by the fire as he removed his boots, and he came across the room to the bed. "Elrond, foot." He commanded. Elrond sleepily raised a leg and Findalor undid the lacings and removed the tall boot. "Other foot." More slowly, the other leg rose and the boot was removed. Elrond enjoyed these games as much as the others, each was dependent on the others for love and care and nurturing though the long years of their lives. Each cherished the affection and care that was lavished on the others, and they were a family of friends and lovers, now close, now apart, moving through interlocking circles of love and affection throughout the long years.
Findalor unlaced the leggings and gave them a tug, pulling Elrond nearly off the edge of the bed. Rising up at this rude awakening, he sighed and rose to undress himself. Findalor managed to remove his clothing with much less grace than Glorfindel, finally falling across the bed in the attempt to clear his feet from his bunched trousers. Galenbrethil pulled her long gown over her head with ease, and uncharacteristically gave it a toss across the room to catch on a chair nearby. She turned and crawled into bed behind Glorfindel, where he was warming the sheets already. She was of a mind to let these others just struggle alone this late in the evening, and snuggled up along his long back, throwing an arm across his slender side. He scented his silken hair after the fashion of those in Lorien, and the clean mossy scent cleared her mind as she drifted off into sleep sharing his pillow.
Elrond was sleepily trying to untangle the pile of pillows and linens and finally crawled into the bed and pulled up what he could manage around him. He leaned back into Galenbrethil's soft form and buried his face into the cushiony pillows. His mind wandered far away from the earthly realm in blissful release. The soothing flow of energies around him was familiar, comforting and protective.
Findalor sat on the side of the bed, thankful he had assigned the day watch already and did not have to greet the sun on patrol. He rubbed his tired face and stretched his arms wide, turning his stiff back this way and that. He looked at the row of sleeping forms lined up beside him. Long strands of hair, ashen and raven, flowed over slender shoulders and across white crispy linens. He smiled a wry smile of protectiveness and love, his friends and lovers lay before him asleep in trust and peace.
He glanced around him at the flickering candles in stands around the room, many had burned down low and guttered, slowly going out one by one. As the ring of lights burned low and he tucked himself into bed, he thought that even in the darkness of night, the fiery circles of love and friendship would bind them all until the end of time. Wondering at this unusual philosophical turn of mind, he watched the last candle flicker out and closed his eyes in deep and utter peace and exhaustion. Let the morning bring what frolicking among them it may, tonight they rested in friendly companionship.
The End
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