Resurrection 29

Resurrection

Part 29

Posted: December 29, 2006
Title: Resurrection
Author: Larien Elengasse

Summary: Time goes on, war comes to Middle-earth again, and Lindir has a talk with Erestor.

*****

The years marched on as Glorfindel and Lindir, and Erestor and Gildor lived uneventful lives. Erestor remained dedicated to Gildor, pushing his love for Glorfindel deep inside to some inaccessible place where he could keep it hidden. Glorfindel did the same, numbing himself to the ache in his heart and finding solace and comfort in Lindir’s generous arms. Lindir chose to live the lie because it was easier than living the truth, and Gildor waited for the inevitable, keeping what he knew in his heart to himself.

Heartbreak came in the form of Gwathel’s passing. Erestor’s faithful companion and good friend finally succumbed to time, her brave spirit departing her form in her sleep one night. Gildor helped Erestor bury her remains in the woods where they so often walked. Erestor remarked that he was glad that her heart gave out before her body, and that her last days were spent walking in the woods she loved and playing with her family.

Thranduil and Lindir’s friendship endured through letters passed between their realms. In them, Lindir learned of Thranduil’s long courtship of his bride to be, and their eventual wedding beneath the boughs of spruce in the northern reaches of the great wood. He wrote a song for the auspicious event, which was performed by Greenwood’s renowned flutists. His friend became a father as the princess gave birth to a son. His name was Legolas, a good name for a woodland prince. Lindir could not help but wonder how things might have been if Thranduil had come to him at a different time, under different circumstances. He wrote another song, this one for the elfling prince, one that Thranduil said caused Legolas to smile and coo when his mother sang it to him. Lindir promised to visit Greenwood, someday.

Centuries of peace in the western lands caused complacency to set in amongst all Imladris’ residents except one. Despite the long, uneventful years, Elrond still felt the presence of Sauron’s evil. Rumors of unrest were coming from Nûmenor; the great citizenry of men was dividing. There were those known as “Elf-friends” who maintained their ties of friendship with the Firstborn, despite the risk of persecution from their rulers, and they somehow found a way to maintain communication with Círdan and the Elves of the Grey Havens.

Ar-Pharazôn took Sauron prisoner and held him in Nûmenor, which was of great concern to all the elves in Middle-earth. Sometime before this, dark creatures were seen in the Northern Wastes. It was said that they were Nazgûl, the men corrupted by Sauron when they accepted the Nine Rings of Power, devices made by the Dark Lord in order to ensnare the hearts and minds of men, who were now turned into shadows of what they once were.

Elrond believed that Nûmenor was perched on the edge of destruction as Ar-Pharazôn’s lust for power and immortality increased. If Nûmenor were to be lost, and if the rumors of Nazgûl were true, then their hard-earned peace was about to end.

Erestor entered Elrond’s chamber, to find his lord shaken. The Lord of Imladris sat in a high backed chair, his pale grey eyes gazing out of the window. He held letter loosely in his hand; it dangled from his fingers as if it were ripe to fall.

“My lord?” he asked quietly.

“They are dying,” Elrond murmured.

“Who, my lord? Who are dying?”

“The Elendili,” Elrond answered. “Sauron’s wickedness has taken hold and Ar-Pharazôn is murdering them in sacrifice to Melkor.”

Erestor placed his hand over his mouth as he felt tears prick his eyes.

“All that Elros brought to fruition, all that he hoped and dreamed, has fallen into darkness. He chose mortality so that he could begin a new civilization of men. I lost my twin to that dream, and now his dream is dead.”

Erestor crossed the room and knelt beside Elrond’s chair, taking the letter from his lord. His fingers closed around Elrond’s hand as he softly spoke, “He will not have died in vain. We will help them as we always have done. We will shelter those who have remained true to Elros’ sacrifice.”

Elrond turned his gaze to Erestor and smiled weakly. “We shall, my friend,” he answered.

Glorfindel burst through the door of Elrond’s study. As Erestor looked upon his friend, he thought he had never seen him look so stunned.

The Elda’s normally peaceful and warm face was transformed into a mask of shock, his breath came in sharp gasps, as he had ridden hard from the valley and ran up to his lord’s chambers from the courtyard. “War,” he breathed. “War has fallen upon Nûmenor. Ar-Pharazôn has set out to attack the Valar.”

Erestor stood in shock. What would drive men to such an end? What madness had taken hold in what was such a noble place?

Elrond stood beside Erestor. “How came you by this knowledge?”

“The Eagles,” Glorfindel replied.

“Prepare to ride to Lindon. This violence could spill upon our own shores.”

Glorfindel nodded. Elrond turned to Erestor. “Make preparations to bring our people inside the circle of the mountains; we may yet be at war. Sauron never forgets his enemies.”

Erestor nodded and followed his lord out of his chambers.

* * * *

Lindir stood with his hands tucked inside the wide sleeves of his robe. He watched with a mixture of awe and fear as Glorfindel stood beside the great bird. No words left his lover’s lips; he and the Eagle communicated without sound or voice. Lindir had seen the Eagles fly overhead many times before, and he knew of the special relationship his lover had with them, but he had never seen one so close. The massive bird inclined its head, slowly moving it a little to the left then to the right as it seemed to listen, then Glorfindel bowed his head and covered his heart, backing slowly away before the great beast took flight.

Glorfindel cast one glance at his lover and smiled sadly, trying to import some sense of confidence. He then turned and made for the barracks, leaving his lover standing upon the hill.

“Promise me you will be careful,” Erestor said as he helped Gildor pack clothing into a knapsack.

“You know I will be,” Gildor replied, turning and collecting his quiver and bow.

“You cannot come back to me half-dead again, Gildor. I do not know if I can bear it.”

Gildor smiled and drew Erestor into his arms. “I am not eager to endure such again myself, my love.” He tucked a braid behind Erestor’s ear. “Your happiness is what I want most, above all else. You know this, yes?”

Erestor nodded and wrapped his arms around Gildor’s waist. “I do.”

“Should something happen to me…” He placed his fingers on Erestor’s lips to silence his lover’s protest. “Should something happen to me, I want you to be happy. I do not want you to wander these lands in mourning for eternity.” He smiled. “Life can be short, Erestor, despite our long years. One never knows what waits around the bend or what the future may hold. It is important to live your life in such a way that you have no regrets.” He caressed his lover’s face. “No matter what comes, I have none. My time with you has been something precious to me.”

“You speak as if we will never see one another again,” Erestor whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“I have the feeling that there is still much to be between you and I; but I have learned the importance of not leaving things unsaid.” He pressed their foreheads together. “Never leave anything unsaid, Erestor.”

“I love you,” Erestor whispered.

“And I love you,” Gildor answered.

* * * *

Months wore on as Erestor and Lindir awaited the return of their loved ones. Thankfully, the need for bringing Imladris’ residents back inside the circle of the mountains had not come to pass, for the war that raged in the West did not touch the lands east of the Blue Mountains.

Erestor found Lindir sitting on a low chaise in the sunshine, his arms wrapped around his waist, and his clouded gaze focused on the ground. Drawing a deep breath, he sat beside his friend and tentatively placed an arm around the minstrel’s shoulders.

“Why do you deny him?” Lindir asked quietly.

“What?” Erestor asked in surprise.

“Why do you deny him your love? We all know that the two of you love one another – even Gildor knows such.”

So, it had finally come to this, after all these long years. Erestor withdrew and stood. “What have you said to Gildor, Lindir?”

Lindir looked up at Erestor. “Nothing. Think you so ill of me that you believe I would meddle in what you have with him? Think you so ill of me that you believe I would hurt him with this knowledge, as Glorfindel hurt me?”

Erestor swallowed. “No. No, I do not think that. I love Gildor…”

“I know you do, but you are in love with Glorfindel, you always have been.”

“No . . . no I am not.”

“You lie.” Lindir did not flinch from Erestor’s piercing gaze. “You lie to me, to yourself, and to Gildor. If only you had lied to Glorfindel. If he did not think you loved him, it would be easier to walk away from you. Instead, he lingers near you, hiding in my love to keep from becoming a shell of what he once was, always hoping that one day you will change your mind.”

“You are free enough with your love,” Erestor quipped, immediately regretting his words.

Lindir laughed; it was a hollow sound. “Aye, that I am. I am shameless, if the truth be told. I am shameless and weak, because I would rather live this lie than live alone. I have not found the strength to face the truth, so I continue to hope for what will never be. I am sure it is quite pathetic, but it is all that I have.”

Erestor swallowed the lump in his throat and knelt in front of Lindir, taking the minstrel’s slender hands in his own. “Valar forgive me for what I have done, but I can do nothing else. I have hurt you without ever meaning to, and if Gildor were to learn the truth…”

“He will not, not from me,” Lindir murmured. “I have tried to hate you, Erestor. I have tried to place the blame for all of this squarely on your shoulders, but I cannot. I own some of the responsibility for this, we all do. Despite all, you are one of my dearest friends and though I envy you, I still love you.”

Erestor gathered Lindir in his arms and held him close. “Oh, my dear, dear friend. I love you and I bear the guilt for your pain. What can I do?”

“The truth needs to be told, Erestor. This must end, all of it, but I am too weak and too afraid to do it myself.”

Erestor closed his eyes. “It will pass, Lindir. One day, Glorfindel will realize that he holds onto a dream; he will open his eyes and see you as he first did, as the beautiful, kind, loving soul you are, and he will forget about me. I promise this.”

He held his friend close as they watched the sun slowly set.

*****

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