Resurrection 14

Resurrection

Part 14

Posted: October 27, 2006
Title: Resurrection
Author: Larien Elengasse

Summary: Erestor resigns himself and gains a new friend.

*****

Erestor watched Glorfindel and Lindir exchange tender touches and loving words from the doorway. While he was much relieved that his friend and assistant would eventually recover, it pained him to witness their gentle affection. What could have been his, had he not been so foolishly afraid, was now Lindir’s, and he would forever bear witness to their love for one another. He smiled wearily as Glorfindel turned to face him, and Lindir quietly called his name.

“How is my dear friend this morn?” Erestor asked quietly.

“Better,” Lindir answered. “Though I am very sorry that I have put you in such a bind.”

Erestor waived his hand. “Do not be ridiculous, Lindir. You could not have foreseen this, nor do you bear any responsibility for it. I am anxious to see you recover, more because you are dear to me than for any inconvenience that this terrible event causes.” He shifted his gaze to Glorfindel. “And how fares my other dear friend?”

“Much better now that Lindir is on the path to recovery,” Glorfindel answered.

“Would you do something for me, Erestor?” Lindir asked.

“Anything, my friend.”

“Would you escort Glorfindel to our chambers and see that he bathes, has something to eat, and goes promptly to bed? He has promised to do so, but I do not trust him,” Lindir answered with a sweet smile.

Glorfindel smiled as he shook his head. “Oh for Eru’s sake. I told you I would…”

Erestor covered his heart and bowed his head, interrupting Glorfindel’s protestation. “Of course, my friend. Anything to set your heart at ease.”

“Thank you, Erestor,” Lindir replied with a smile.

“Come, my stubborn friend, you heard your lover.”

Glorfindel sighed. “I am not an elfling, I do not need…”

“Shush!” Erestor admonished. “No more protest. Do as Lindir says or we will both incur his ire.”

Glorfindel turned and pressed one more kiss to Lindir’s lips, then he smiled and turned, leaving the room with Erestor at his heels.

* * * *

Erestor walked up the stairs behind the Elda toward his chambers. Midway, Glorfindel turned.

“All right, Erestor. You need not follow – Lindir cannot see you now.”

“I gave him my word, and I happen to agree with him. You are far too stubborn and far too neglectful of yourself. What good are you to him if you collapse from exhaustion?” Glorfindel opened his mouth to protest when Erestor held up his hand. “Tut! I will hear no more of your baseless arguments. To your room, Glorfindel.”

“You are quite the taskmaster, my friend,” Glorfindel murmured as he continued up the stairs.

“Aye, I suppose I have become that.”

“Where is your mirth, Erestor? You used to smile and laugh far more than you do now.”

“I have no time for mirth, Glorfindel. Unlike you, I have important work to do.”

The slight upward twitch of the corners of the Noldo’s mouth gave him away. Glorfindel chuckled. “Of course,” he answered. He paused. “I must speak to Gildor, there are things I am supposed to do this day…”

“Gildor is already about it, my friend; now, no more lame excuses, to bed with you.”

Glorfindel sighed. “I am resigned. There is no arguing with you.”

“I am so glad you finally came to your senses,” Erestor answered with a slight smile.

“Will you speak to Gildor about increasing the patrols?”

“I am sure he has already thought of that, but yes, I will mention it to him. Now, do I have to knock you about the head, or will you do as agreed?”

Glorfindel reached for the handle on his door. “Aye, I will. Will you look in on Lindir in a while?”

“Yes, my friend. He will want for nothing, I promise.”

“Thank you, Erestor.”

“It is what friends are for.”

Erestor smiled sadly as Glorfindel closed the door behind him.

* * * *

Erestor walked into the room where Gildor was keeping the she-wolf. His friend knelt beside the noble beast, checking her bandages and seeing that she was comfortable. Beside the soft bed he had made for her was a bowl of fresh water and another, smaller bowl that contained the remnants of a clear broth made from the drippings of the roasted fowl the cooks had prepared the night before.

“How is she?” Erestor asked softly as he entered the room, slowly approaching the wolf.

“She is better,” Gildor answered. “Nestagar made up a tonic that we mixed with the broth to help ease her discomfort, it should also help her sleep.”

“Will she live?”

“Aye. Though, she can never return to her pack. Even if her legs heal completely, I am not sure she will be able to get around well enough to hunt down prey or escape danger, and even if she could, I am not altogether sure they would accept her back, after she has lived among us.” He looked up at Erestor. “’Twas you that saved her, Erestor. ‘Tis now you who are her family.”

“Family?” Erestor asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Aye, family. Wolves live in packs, which are like clans; each one has a role to play. They do not last long on their own – they need a family to be a part of.”

“What of you?”

“I will enjoy having her around, yes. But it was you who bore her back here, it is you she will look to for comfort and guidance.” Gildor turned his gaze back to his work, a slight smile curving his lips. It was a little lie he told, but something in his heart told him that Erestor needed this companion.

“Well then,” Erestor murmured as he crouched beside the wolf, and tentatively reached out to stroke her pelt. “I suppose she and I should become better acquainted then. I have never been brother to a wolf before.”

Gildor smiled. “Aye, you two need to bond. Have you seen Lindir?”

“Aye. He looks much better.”

“Good. I will see him when I leave here.”

“Gildor?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for last night; for staying, I mean.”

Gildor wiped his hands upon a towel, and then clasped Erestor’s shoulder. “Anytime, my friend.”

* * * *

The weeks passed far too slowly for Lindir, who was anxious to regain the normalcy of his life before the attack. He could now play his lyre and the harp, and was getting around fairly well on crutches. His leg was still heavily bandaged to provide support for the healing bones, and by the end of the day, his arms and leg would ache if he spent too much time on the crutches.

He was sitting on a low chaise in the afternoon sun, his quill moving effortlessly across a piece of lined parchment. He was composing a new song for the celebration of Mettarë, when they would say farewell to one year and welcome the next. A strange scraping-squeaking noise caught his attention when he lifted his gaze above the edge of the parchment to see the strangest thing he had ever witnessed.

Toward him walked Erestor, moving far slower than normal, his black robes brushing the cut stones of the veranda as he approached. Next to him was the she-wolf that had been rescued the day of the attack. The wolf ambled along, her front legs on the ground, the back half of her body in a strange sling that was attached to a small cart. This contraption enabled the wolf to get around without putting undue pressure on her healing back legs.

In all of his days, he never would have imagined that staid and stoic Erestor would take a beast of Eru’s creation under his wing. It was not that his friend did not respect all living beings of nature, he did: he treated his horse very well, and loved the small birds that splashed in the fountain outside his office window. But a wolf? Surprise or no, Elrond’s Head Librarian walked side-by-side with a slender grey, white, and cream colored wolf, who had pale grey eyes that matched the councilor’s own.

They paused where he sat and he smiled. “She seems to be getting along quite well,” Lindir said softly.

Erestor reached down and stroked the wolf’s head. “Aye, I hope she will soon be able to move about without this contraption. It would make me very happy to see her run again.”

The wolf stepped forward and placed her chin on Lindir’s leg. The minstrel smiled and stroked her head. “She is so soft,” he remarked.

“I have been brushing her,” Erestor answered. “You would not believe the debris I found in her coat.”

“She did live in the woods,” Lindir replied, a slight grin on his face.

“Yes, but now she lives in the Last Homely House. Somehow, I doubt the housekeepers would be tolerant of her leaving a trail of debris everywhere she wanders. I look forward to giving her a bath.”

Lindir chuckled. “Somehow I doubt she looks forward to the same.”

“We all have our burdens to bear,” Erestor remarked, scratching the wolf behind the ears.

“What is her name?”

“Gwathel,” Erestor replied. “I thought it appropriate since we are now brother and sister.” Lindir gave him a confused look, and he elaborated, “Gildor said that wolves live in packs, and since Gwathel cannot return to her own safely, I have become her pack – I am her surrogate brother.”

“Ah, I see. Yes, that is an appropriate name for her.” He looked up at Erestor. “That was a kind thing you did, Erestor. Had you left her there, the wargs surely would have come for her.”

Erestor nodded. “Gildor says they used her as bait, to lure the rest of the pack to her rescue. He said it was not a good sign that they have become so cunning.”

Lindir swallowed. “Have they found many more?”

“Several, but they have all been killed. No orcs have been sighted yet.” He looked at the pale expression on Lindir’s face. “Forgive me, my friend. We need not talk of this.”

“I am fine,” Lindir answered. “I am more worried for Glorfindel than anything else. I suppose I should get used to it – worrying about him, I mean.”

“All who love him do,” Erestor said softly. “It is the price we pay for caring about those who protect us.” He noted that Gwathel seemed to squirm a little in her sling. “I think she has had enough for one afternoon. This contraption becomes a little uncomfortable for her after a while.”

“Thank you for stopping to introduce us,” Lindir said as he gave the she-wolf a soft kiss upon her muzzle. “I am glad to see her doing so well.”

“As are we to see you feeling so much better.”

“I shall return to work in a few days, if Nestagar gives me permission.”

Erestor smiled. “It will be good to have you back, but I would not have you do so if it slows down your recovery. Heed the healer’s advice, my friend.”

“I will.”

Erestor gave Lindir’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and then patted she-wolf upon the head. “Come, Gwathel, it is time for your dinner.”

Lindir watched the odd couple walk slowly away, then smiled and returned to his composition.

*****

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