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tolkien_slashy_swapsTitle: Love Breaks the Chains (1/2)
Author: Aglarien
Beta: Ennorwen
Email: agie@aglarien.com
Rating: R
Pairings: Melpomaen/Glorfindel, Elrond/Erestor
Warning: AU.
Written for the Slashy Santa Fiction Exchange for Verayelwe
Request: G – NC-17. There should be some fluffiness, Mel suffering from a lack of self-confidence, getting some comfort. A few candles and a present would be nice.
Disclaimer: Alas, not mine, except for the cats. Master Tolkien owns all the rest. I promise to return his elves when I’m done playing with them.
Summary: A lonely elf is rescued from a life of slavery and taken to Imladris.
Special thanks to Lady Mirfain for the title.
Love Breaks the Chains
Glorfindel gazed out of the window as he lay beside his husband of just a few weeks. It had snowed earlier in the day and the fading sun’s rays turned Imladris into a sparkling wonderland. He hoped the snow would not delay his beloved’s gift from arriving on time for the Yule celebration that night. His eyes fell to the lithe elf in his arms. Lilac-grey eyes that could twinkle with merriment were still misted over in sated reverie, soft pink lips were still slightly swollen from their afternoon amorous adventures, and long tousled hair fell like auburn silk over the pillows. And to Glorfindel’s eyes, his beloved had never looked more beautiful. Unable to resist, he buried his nose in the dark hair, relishing his mate’s enchanting scent of lavender. A smile lit his face as he recalled the first time he had ever smelled the smaller elf. It was not a pleasant smell….
A little over a year previously….
Glorfindel, leading the elven counselor’s escort, spurred them onward, away from Mirkwood and towards home. Winter was coming early and they had crossed the mountains over the High Pass two days before. He had no desire to be caught out in the wilds for the first snowstorm of the season when home was only a few days away. Normally they would not have attempted the hazardous trip to Mirkwood and back so late in the season, but Elrond had insisted that it was critical Erestor meet with Thranduil before the weather cut them off from the other realms. As dear as Erestor was to Elrond, Glorfindel knew it must indeed be important if he was sending the counselor. Pushing aside Erestor’s protests that he was perfectly able to lead his own escort, Elrond and Glorfindel had insisted that the captain accompany him with fifty of their best guards. Although Elladan and Elrohir had begged to join the patrol and help see to the counselor’s safety, Erestor himself had forbidden it, insisting they remain with their father. He would not see all who were dear to Elrond risked on the journey.
Nearing a human village, Erestor suddenly stood up in his stirrups. “Oh, look, Glorfindel!” he cried. “They are having a faire! Could we not stop for just a little while?”
Glorfindel chuckled at his long-time friend. “You want to buy him a gift, don’t you? He always brings something back for you from his travels.”
Erestor grinned and nodded, “Please? I know he does not need anything. As much as I wish to be back home, I just want to get him a little something.”
The captain looked back over his shoulder at his men and saw their hopeful faces. He had been pushing them hard. A few hours delay would not hurt. “Very well. All right, we will stop, but just for a few hours – no more.” Turning to his men, he said, “Half of you stay with the horses on the outskirts of the village while the other half enjoys the faire. After two hours, the first ones will come back to guard the horses and the rest of you may go to the faire. In four hours we leave.”
The elves rode on. After a few moments, Erestor said, “I must say, some regular food will not go amiss – for any of us, I’ll warrant. I am quite tired of dried fruit and waybread. Do you suppose they will have fresh fruit and vegetables?”
Glorfindel shrugged. “I would imagine so. I will check for some provisions while you go with some of our guards to find his gift.”
And that is exactly what they did. The village folk were a little wary of the elves at first, but seeing they meant no harm and were spending silver readily, the villagers soon welcomed their presence. Glorfindel and a few of his men had just completed their purchase of several sacks of ripe apples, oranges and assorted vegetables when Erestor hurried over to him with four of his guards.
“Glorfindel,” the counselor said under his breath. “Come, quickly.” Grabbing the captain’s arm, he pulled him away. “Draw your cloak around you – put your hood up.”
Glorfindel motioned to his guards to return to the horses with their purchases, then drew his cloak around him, raised his hood, and allowed Erestor to drag him away with the four other guards, noticing they were all likewise covered. “Tell me,” he said quietly. “What is wrong?”
“You have to see, my lord,” one of the guards whispered. “At the end of the town there is an area where a man is selling slaves. There is an elf….”
“What?” Glorfindel hissed. “Show me.”
“We have to help him,” Erestor whispered. “He is so small and thin – and they have chains on him.”
They neared the area where men were gathered around a raised platform on which the slave trader was auctioning his “wares”. Glorfindel stopped them out of earshot of the men and watched.
“Do you see him?” Erestor whispered. “Behind the platform. He is the last remaining and is to be sold next.”
“I see him. We cannot just take him without causing trouble,” Glorfindel whispered. “I do not want us to start a war here. If we called in all of our guards we could do it, but that is not the best way. How much coin have you left?”
Erestor reached into a pocket and handed Glorfindel his coin purse. The captain weighed it in his hand. Without being asked, the four guards handed him their own purses. Nodding his head in thanks, Glorfindel took out his own. “I think it is enough.”
“Look, they are starting,” one of the guards whispered.
Moving close enough to join in on the bidding when it was time, they watched and waited. The slave trader extolled the virtues of the elf, promising the buyers a strong servant for many years, and one who did not need much to eat. One of the men looking to bid on the elf yelled to the trader to remove the slave’s ragged tunic so he could see the state of the “merchandise”. Too many lash marks would mean the elf was not easy to manage. The men seemed satisfied with the result.
Glorfindel cringed when he saw the small elf wrap his arms around his boney frame, the chains fastened around his wrists clanking. He was very undernourished, his ribs clearly sticking out, and was none too clean. When the trader forced the elf to turn around, the captain’s hands curled into fists at the sight of the lash marks.
“We have to get him out of here,” Erestor whispered, his eyes filling with unshed tears. “I cannot bear to see an elf like this. He is so young.”
“We will not be leaving without him, Erestor, one way or the other,” Glorfindel replied through his clenched teeth. As they waited, he caught stealthy, barely perceivable movement out of the corner of his eye. A rustling of leaves, no more than from a gentle breeze, told him that most of the rest of their patrol, alerted by the elves who had been with him earlier, had taken positions in and around the surrounding trees.
In the end, it took all six pouches of their silver, the gold hair clasp that Erestor had purchased as a gift, and the gold and sapphire brooch worn by Glorfindel on his cloak to purchase the elf. None of the elves regretted parting with their possessions to free one of their kind.
When the trader declared that the elf was theirs, Erestor rushed to the platform before anyone could stop him, and reached for the smaller elf, for once in his life totally disregarding everything else around him. He was solely focused on helping the elf they had just “purchased”.
Neither Glorfindel nor the guards, however, were so unobservant. Seeing the look in the eyes of the trader and the other men at Erestor’s beauty, and moving as one, they threw back their hoods and cloaks and unsheathed their swords.
“Do not even think it!” Glorfindel cried out in a loud voice as some of the men moved for their own weapons. “You would be dead before you raised your swords.” At his nod to the trees, tens of arrows flew over the heads of the men. “We have purchased this elf fairly and we are leaving with him – now!”
Little by little, in pairs and threes, the men who had attended the auction drifted away, wanting no part of any trouble with the elves, until only the trader remained.
Striding up to the platform, Glorfindel addressed the trader. “Give me the key to his shackles.”
The trader scowled. “No key. I must have lost it.”
Glorfindel suppressed an overwhelming urge to run his blade through the man and turned to Erestor and the elf. “Move away from him, Erestor.” The small elf stood, swaying, his eyes downcast as the counselor stepped back. Lifting the elf’s chin with a finger, Glorfindel looked into sad eyes, and said, “Do you understand me, young one?” The elf nodded. “Kneel and extend your arms out on the platform as far as you can. Then close your eyes and do not move. I am going to cut away your chains.”
The elf obeyed instantly, kneeling and stretching his arms out as far as he could, his eyes closed. His body shook, but he did not move.
In two blindingly fast swings, the crash of metal hitting metal resounded, and Glorfindel’s powerful sword severed the chains from the shackles on the elf’s wrists. “Help him up now, Erestor. We are leaving.”
Erestor assisted the young elf up, steadying him against his body, drew his cloak around the shivering form and placed his arm around the small shoulders. As they left the platform and joined the other elves, Erestor and his charge were surrounded and protected by the guards. They moved through the village as quickly as possible and reached their horses where two elves still stood guard.
“Let me take him, Erestor,” Glorfindel said. “Asfaloth can carry two more easily than your horse can. When we get a good way from here we can stop and rest and get him some better food.” Glorfindel knew that Erestor’s horse was capable of carrying both the slender counselor and the emaciated elf, but a feeling of protectiveness had overwhelmed him once they had reached the horses. Taking the smaller elf and lifting him easily into his arms, he set him on the great warhorse’s back, then drew a blanket out of his pack and wrapped it around the former slave. He handed the elf his water flask and a piece of waybread. “Eat this now and take some water. It will ease your hunger until we can stop.”
The elf reached out shakily and took the bread and water, looking at Glorfindel with frightened eyes.
“It is all right,” Glorfindel whispered, patting his leg gently. “You need no longer fear. You are among elves again and we will care for you. You are safe. No harm will come to you from any here. Eat.”
The elf cautiously took a bite of the bread, but his hunger betrayed him and he wolfed it down, followed by a large drink of the water.
“Feeling a little better now?” Glorfindel asked softly.
The elf nodded and dropped his eyes.
When all of the guards were accounted for, Glorfindel mounted Asfaloth, securing the small elf in front of him, took up the reins, and said, “Let us leave this place quickly. I do not think we will have any problem with the men, but they are unpredictable.”
As they rode away, Erestor watched the elf in front of Glorfindel. His eyes were haunted, and he had not said a word. The little elf’s head reached only the upper part of Glorfindel’s chest. He seemed dwarfed by the tall warrior. Moving his horse closer to Asfaloth, he smiled at the elf and said, “You are safe now, my friend. And you are free. When we stop to rest for the night, we will see about taking those shackles off of your wrists. My name is Erestor, and you are riding with our captain, Glorfindel. We only take you with us to care for you. When we reach Imladris and you are well again, it will be up to you if will stay with us. I hope you will. You will be very welcome there.” Erestor paused, waiting to see if the elf would speak, and perhaps give them his name. When the elf continued to sit with his eyes lowered, Erestor looked at Glorfindel in concern.
Glorfindel nodded. “Give him time, Erestor. He does not know us, and has had a hard time of it.”
Erestor nodded and they rode on.
Glorfindel bent his head to speak softly to the little elf. “It is true, you know. You are safe with us now, little one. Have you ever heard of Imladris?” The elf shook his head. “Ah. Well, it is an elven settlement, hidden in a valley and safe. It was founded as a refuge from the evil in this world. You will be very safe there, and no one will shackle you ever again. You will have enough to eat, and a good bed to sleep in, in a nice room. You will see, my little friend.” And baths, Glorfindel thought, wondering how long it had been since the elf had been allowed to bathe. His smell was….well, there was no other word for it but foul. His hair had been combed into some semblance of order, but it was just as foul smelling and dirty as the rest of him. Glorfindel didn’t even want to consider what the stench was made up of, and wondered how the elf had been forced to live to acquire it.
It was nearly five hours before they stopped, having reached a tributary of their own river, the Bruinen. Glorfindel had fed the silent elf small pieces of waybread and given him more water during their ride, not wanting him to become ill from too much food all at once, but not wanting him to be hungry either. The sun was beginning to move lower in the heavens, and Glorfindel reckoned they were far enough away from any danger from the trader or the other men, not that he had been seriously concerned about it.
When they stopped, the well-trained guards began setting up the camp, each knowing exactly which duty was theirs to perform. As some stood guard, others built fires, pulling out cooking pots from their supplies carried by the pack horses to begin preparing the vegetables they had purchased for cooking, while others left the area to hunt for fresh game. To the still frightened elf sitting on Glorfindel’s horse, it was an amazing sight to see so many elves working in unison without being ordered to do so.
Dismounting, Glorfindel lifted the silent elf from Asfaloth and set him on the ground. “You have ridden far today, little one. I hope you are not too sore tomorrow. Before we do anything else, let us see if we can get those horrid shackles off of you, shall we?”
The elf simply stood with downcast eyes where Glorfindel had placed him, but when the captain took his arm to lead to him to where Erestor sat waiting for them, he offered no resistance.
“Come and sit here, my friend,” Erestor said, indicating the log he sat on. When the elf sat silently, the counselor said, “Rest your arms on my knee while Glorfindel unlocks the shackles.” Erestor was afraid the elf might not have the strength to hold his arms out for a long period while Glorfindel maneuvered a slim piece of metal inside of the locks. He frowned when the elf silently placed his arms as he was told, but still did not look at them. A thought slowly took shape in his mind. “Were you told never to look at those who kept you, my friend?” he asked gently. The elf nodded.
Erestor and Glorfindel traded glances over the elf’s head. Glorfindel shook his head in disgust. The captain placed two fingers under the elf’s chin and lifted it up. Looking into haunted eyes, he said softly, “Those days are over, young one. Look at us. You are one of us. You no longer have to bow to the whims of men. You are here as a fellow elf – as a friend. You do not have to hide from anyone ever again. No one here or in Imladris will harm you. You will never again be beaten for doing something wrong. We are very proud of you for surviving as you have.”
The young elf took a deep breath. Oh, he wanted to believe what these elves were telling him. They seemed nice – as if they really did want to help him. The golden one had given him food and water when he was starving, and he had such truthful looking eyes – what little he had seen of them. The dark elf’s voice and touch were always so gentle; he seemed afraid of hurting him. If only he could believe them. If only he really was safe and would not have to go back to the men. If only he could be certain this was all not to simply test his obedience.
“It is true, little one,” Glorfindel whispered sadly, seeing the doubt and fear in the elf’s eyes. With all his heart, he wanted nothing but to see the doubt replaced with confidence and assurance. “You will see. We will just have to prove to you that now is the beginning of a new life – a good life – for you.” Taking the long, thin piece of metal that Erestor had supplied, he inserted it into the lock and slowly began to feel for the release.
The young elf fought the urge to hold his breath. He had been kept in chains for so much of his life that they were nearly a part of him. He heard a soft ‘click’ and the metal fell away from his wrist. A few moments later, another click and the second shackle fell. Raising his arms, the elf stared at his wrists. Was he really free? The two elves had said that he was. He cautiously lifted his eyes to the golden elf.
“It is true, little one. You are free,” Glorfindel whispered, seeing the look in the elf’s eyes. It would take some time for this one to fully realize his life had changed, thought the captain, and he wondered for how many years the young elf had been held captive. “Come, take your first steps in freedom again.” Rising, he offered his hand to the smaller elf.
The little elf wondered at the hand held out to him. Was he supposed to take it? He had never been allowed to touch anyone, not since he had been taken, and he did not allow himself to think of his life before that. Every once in a while, a flicker of a memory would come to him, but he always pushed it away – it hurt too much to remember. Deciding it would probably be best if kept his hands at his side, he rose and took his first hesitant steps. Nothing happened. No one said anything to him. Gaining courage, he walked past the golden elf, towards the river. He could feel the two elves’ eyes on him, but everyone else just went about their business and no one was stopping him.
Reaching the edge of the river, he wondered if it was possible for him to enter it. It had been so long since he had been allowed to bathe and he knew he was filthy, although his sense of smell had long ago adjusted to his own stench. The river here was narrow and slow, and probably not very deep. The setting sun glinted off the gently rippling water, and the soothing sound called to him. He stared at the water for long minutes. Some of the guards finished their tasks. Removing their clothing at the river’s edge, they entered it a little way from where the elf stood and began washing themselves and their long hair. Some were even playing and splashed one another with the water, laughing. The elf turned and looked at the two elves behind him plaintively, then to the river, then back again.
Glorfindel and Erestor walked slowly toward the young elf. “Would you like to bathe in the river?” Glorfindel asked gently. “There is time before our meal is ready.” The small elf nodded.
“I will bring soaps and clothing, Glorfindel,” Erestor said, “if you will stay and help our new friend.” The counselor smiled, pleased with the development, and hurried back to where his packs had been laid. Erestor was several inches shorter and lither than the average elf. Although the former slave was smaller yet, the counselor’s clothing would fit him best. As he gathered soaps, bathing oils, fresh tunics and leggings, and a few small towels he always carried on journeys, one of the elves who had been with him at the village approached.
“My lord,” the guard said quietly, “we have all been concerned about our new friend. How does he fare?”
“He has not yet spoken, Suithoron, but he has let us know he wishes to bathe in the river,” Erestor replied softly. “That is a good sign. I do not believe they allowed him to speak, just as he was not allowed to look upon his former masters.” Erestor looked towards the river where Glorfindel was helping the elf remove his tattered clothing. “My heart hurts for him, but I believe he will recover, given time.”
Suithoron nodded, “We will make sure he eats well tonight, my lord.”
Erestor thanked the guard and hurried to the river. Removing his own clothing, he joined Glorfindel and the elf in the river, bring the soaps and oils.
The silent elf had cautiously walked into the river, letting the cool water flow around him. It was more wonderful than he had remembered, and for the first time he felt free. Closing his eyes he submerged himself, and then rose again, over and over. With his back to the other elves, a small smile actually formed on his face before he quickly concealed it.
Erestor and Glorfindel watched the smaller elf, grinning, as they washed themselves and their hair. When they were finished, they looked at each other conspiratorially. It was time to get their new friend clean. Glorfindel called to the elf to join them, and obediently, if reluctantly, he came.
“I have some lovely soap here, my friend,” Erestor said. “It is time for you to wash the past away and become an elf again.” The counselor lifted the elf’s chin with his fingers. “You do not have to shield your eyes any longer, young one. Will you allow Glorfindel and me to assist you?”
It took only the elf’s nod, and the captain and the counselor set upon the filthy body and hair with zest. Glorfindel scrubbed the elf’s long hair, along with his ears and neck, three times, before all of the filth was finally removed. Erestor poured bathing oil on a small cloth handed to him by one of the guards and scrubbed the rest of the elf’s body with a vengeance until the years of accumulated dirt were no more.
The poor little elf didn’t know what hit him. He closed his eyes when he was told to, dunked his head into the river when commanded, and moved when and how he was ordered. The next thing he knew he was carried from the river, dried off, dressed in clean, new clothing, and was seated before a fire wrapped in a blanket, while Glorfindel toweled dry and brushed his hair, and Erestor fought with any remaining dirt under his fingernails.
The guards secretly watched, hiding their grins, as their new companion turned from a seemingly tiny, scruffy waif into a beautiful elf, with a crown of shining auburn hair on his head.
“No one would know you, little one,” Glorfindel said smiling, and he finally stood and looked at the little elf.
“You are an elf once again, and a most lovely one,” Erestor added softly.
The setting sun glinted off the smaller elf’s hair, turning it a deep red. Dropping down in front of the elf, Glorfindel asked, “Will you raise your eyes and look at us, little one?” The small elf raised his head and Glorfindel looked into the most amazingly colored lilac-gray eyes. The vision before him took his breath away, and he whispered, “You are indeed beautiful.”
“Mel…po…mean.” The little elf’s voice was harsh from long disuse. “My…my…name is Melpomaen,” he whispered, staring into the bluest eyes he had ever seen.
Glorfindel released a joyful shout and pulled the little elf into his arms. “Melpomaen! Welcome back, Melpomaen.” Grinning over the elf’s head at the others, he whispered. “Welcome home, little one. Welcome home.”
A startled Melpomaen didn’t know what to do when Glorfindel grabbed him and hugged him. It had been so long since anyone had held him…hugged him. But it felt so good. Gradually his arms found their way around the large elf, and when he heard the musical voice whispering, “Welcome home,” in his ear, all of his apprehension faded away. It was true – he was home. And he knew he was safe with these elves – this elf. Melting into the strong chest, held in strong but gentle arms, he cried for the first time in decades.
Glorfindel gently rocked the sobbing elf in his arms, whispering soothing nothings and holding him close. When Melpomaen’s tears finally ceased, Glorfindel smoothed his hair back from his face and gently dried his wet cheeks with his thumbs. Placing a chaste kiss on the younger elf’s brow, he asked, “Feeling better now?”
Melpomaen nodded. “I am sorry,” he whispered, his voice still horse. “It…it has just been so long since anyone held me…cared about me….”
Erestor sat down beside the two other elves and said, “Drink some tea, little one. It will help with your throat.”
Melpomaen looked up, his still moist eyes meeting Erestor’s. “Thank you. You have been so kind to me, but I was afraid.”
Erestor nodded. “It is all right. Drink the tea now. I feared that you had been forbidden to speak as well. Was I right?”
Melpomaen took the warm tea and sipped it, still held in Glorfindel’s arms. At Erestor’s question he nodded. “Some of them were afraid of me, I think. I was forbidden to speak or touch any of them.”
“For how long were you held, Melpomaen?” Glorfindel asked gently.
“I am not sure. It was through the lifetime of four masters. The fifth one needed money, so when his father died, he sold me to the trader.” The elf’s voice was slowly recovering, thanks to the healing tea that Erestor had brought.
“Over two hundred years!” Glorfindel exclaimed, holding the little elf tighter again. Melpomaen had done well to survive that long of a time. “Thank the Valar we found you!”
Erestor stroked Melpomaen’s shining hair. “You have done well, young one. Are you ready to eat your first real meal? It is ready now.”
“I have eaten more today already than I usually do in a week, but I am hungry again.” Looking to Glorfindel again, the one who had been feeding him all day, he whispered shyly, “May I eat again, Glorfindel?”
Glorfindel grinned, pleased that Melpomaen has remembered his name. “Indeed you may, dear one. Let us see what they have cooked for us. It smells delicious.” The captain realized that he would have to release the elf from his embrace, and found that he was reluctant to do so. It had felt wonderful holding Melpomaen. With a final, gentle squeeze, he allowed the elf to stand.
One of Erestor’s eyebrows shot up at hearing the endearment his old friend had called Melpomaen, but he wisely said nothing, and the three elves joined the guards for their meal.
Melpomaen sat between Glorfindel and Erestor on a blanket on the ground, and was handed a spoon and what seemed to him to be an awfully large bowl, filled with steaming, rich stew. Next to him were placed several apples and several pieces of griddle bread. He looked at Glorfindel with huge eyes, and whispered, “All of this is for me?”
Glorfindel chuckled as he took his own bowl of the stew from a guard and nodded his thanks. “All for you. Try to eat slowly, and let your stomach tell you when you have had enough.”
Melpomaen took up his spoon and dipped it into the bowl, and then carefully brought it to his mouth. His eyes closed in bliss as he tasted meat, potato, onion, and the rich sauce. “Oh!” he couldn’t help exclaiming when he had finished chewing and swallowing the first mouthful. Nothing he had ever remembered eating had tasted so good. Scooping up another spoonful, he continued eating, not even noticing how the others were watching him and grinning.
After the meal, the guards not on duty sat around talking and joking with Erestor and Glorfindel. Melpomaen simply listened as he munched on an apple, savoring every bite. Before long, his head began to droop, and he rested against Glorfindel’s shoulder.
“Tired, little one?” Glorfindel asked. “You have had an exciting and exhausting day.”
Melpomaen nodded and rubbed his stomach. “Tired from eating too much. In Imladris….do you eat as good there?”
“Better,” replied Glorfindel. “This is just camp food that old soldiers can cook up. There are big kitchens in Imladris and lots of cooks that make all kinds of wonderful things like cakes.”
“I think I’m going to like it there,” Melpomaen mumbled as reverie overtook him and his head dropped into Glorfindel’s lap.
Erestor stifled a laugh so as not to wake the sleeping elf, and whispered, “He has done very well today. He is still shy, but does not seem to be afraid of us any longer. Elrond will be pleased to hear how we rescued him.”
“And all because you wanted to stop at the faire to purchase a gift. The Valar surely sent us there today. I am sorry you had to lose the gift you purchased, Erestor,” Glorfindel whispered. He stroked the soft head on his lap.
“Do not think of it, my friend. It was nothing compared to his life. Melpomaen is much more important. I must remember to repay your guards when we are home, however.”
“I will take care of that, my friend,” Glorfindel said. “When we return home he will need some time to settle in and return to health, then he can begin thinking of what he would like to learn and do. I do hope he stays with us.”
“As do I,” Erestor whispered back, yawning. “Time to sleep, I think.” Rising, he motioned for Glorfindel to stay while he laid out their bedrolls. As Glorfindel normally slept next to Erestor while they traveled to ensure the counselor’s safety, it was a simple matter to place an extra blanket between them for Melpomaen. Once the bedrolls were ready, they carefully moved the small elf to avoid waking him, and lay down on either side of him. Erestor watched how Glorfindel looked at Melpomaen. “You like him very much.”
“I do,” Glorfindel whispered. “He is very precious. To have been through so much for so long – starved and beaten. He is small, but he is strong.”
“And quite a beauty,” Erestor added slyly.
“He is indeed beautiful, and I sense how beautiful his heart is as well. He is a precious soul. Good night, Erestor. Sleep well, my friend.” Glorfindel wrapped an arm protectively around Melpomaen and settled down to sleep.
~~~*~~~
In the morning, Melpomaen woke, cocooned in blankets, and feeling more warm and wonderful than he could remember. He thought about everything that had happened yesterday, the wonderful elves who had bought him from the trader, the clothes he now wore and the food he had eaten, and tears of gratitude welled in his eyes.
Glorfindel, seeing the small elf was awake, knelt beside him. “Good morning, little one,” he said, but then noticed Melpomaen’s tears. “What is it, dear one? Is something wrong?”
Melpomaen shook his head, and then sat up and threw his arms around Glorfindel. “I am happy,” he whispered against the large elf’s chest. “Thank you for helping me. Thank you for buying me and taking me away with you.”
“Oh, little one,” Glorfindel whispered. “You do not have to thank us. I am just so happy that we found you.” He hugged the little elf close. “We would have done whatever was necessary to free you.”
One of the guards approached with a bowl filled with more of the stew from the previous night. “Is our new friend ready for his breakfast, my lord?”
Melpomaen raised his head and looked at Glorfindel, confused. “But I ate just last night!”
“It is quite normal to eat three times a day,” Glorfindel said, saddened that Melpomaen had become so used to not being able to nourish his body. “You are so thin, and you need to eat regularly to regain your health, little one. It is not right for anyone – elf, human, dwarf or animal – to have to survive with as little food as you have done.” Thanking the guard, he reached out and took the bowl. Releasing the little elf from his other arm, he said. “Come and sit beside me and eat. We will ride hard and fast today and you will need the nourishment.”
Erestor returned from the river where he had gone to wash, and sat beside them with his own breakfast. “How do you feel this morning, my friend?” he asked Melpomaen.
Melpomaen stopped eating and his face lit up with a smile. “Happy. Thank you for saving me, Erestor – for bringing me with you.”
Erestor smiled in return and reached out to sooth Melpomaen’s still-tousled hair. “I am so happy that we found you, young one. It near broke my heart to see you there,” he said softly. “If we had not stopped there….” Erestor shivered.
“But we did, thanks to you my friend,” Glorfindel said heartily. “Do not think on if - we did, and Melpomaen is safe now.”
“May I ask you something, Glorfindel?” Melpomaen said.
“Of course, little one.” Glorfindel waited for the elf’s question.
Last night, I heard some of the guards address Erestor as “my lord”. And this morning, the guard who brought my breakfast called you “my lord”. Should I be addressing you both as “my lord” too?”
Glorfindel shook his head. “No, Melpomaen. The only reason the guards are calling me “my lord” is because of Erestor’s presence and the respect they bear him because of his position as our lord’s chief counselor. If Erestor were not here, they would be calling me just plain Glorfindel.”
“And I do not care for titles outside of formal occasions, Melpomaen,” Erestor added kindly. “Once we are in Imladris, the only time you need to address us as “my lord” is during formal meetings or receptions. But do not worry about that now. On those occasions, Glorfindel or I will guide you. The only person you will need to address as “my lord” for now is our lord, Elrond, and he will probably tell you to call him simply Elrond, as he does not care for the formality of titles among friends either.”
Melpomaen nodded and smiled, and then finished eating his breakfast in silence, savoring every bite.
~~~*~~~
TBC
Author: Aglarien
Beta: Ennorwen
Email: agie@aglarien.com
Rating: R
Pairings: Melpomaen/Glorfindel, Elrond/Erestor
Warning: AU.
Written for the Slashy Santa Fiction Exchange for Verayelwe
Request: G – NC-17. There should be some fluffiness, Mel suffering from a lack of self-confidence, getting some comfort. A few candles and a present would be nice.
Disclaimer: Alas, not mine, except for the cats. Master Tolkien owns all the rest. I promise to return his elves when I’m done playing with them.
Summary: A lonely elf is rescued from a life of slavery and taken to Imladris.
Special thanks to Lady Mirfain for the title.
Love Breaks the Chains
Glorfindel gazed out of the window as he lay beside his husband of just a few weeks. It had snowed earlier in the day and the fading sun’s rays turned Imladris into a sparkling wonderland. He hoped the snow would not delay his beloved’s gift from arriving on time for the Yule celebration that night. His eyes fell to the lithe elf in his arms. Lilac-grey eyes that could twinkle with merriment were still misted over in sated reverie, soft pink lips were still slightly swollen from their afternoon amorous adventures, and long tousled hair fell like auburn silk over the pillows. And to Glorfindel’s eyes, his beloved had never looked more beautiful. Unable to resist, he buried his nose in the dark hair, relishing his mate’s enchanting scent of lavender. A smile lit his face as he recalled the first time he had ever smelled the smaller elf. It was not a pleasant smell….
A little over a year previously….
Glorfindel, leading the elven counselor’s escort, spurred them onward, away from Mirkwood and towards home. Winter was coming early and they had crossed the mountains over the High Pass two days before. He had no desire to be caught out in the wilds for the first snowstorm of the season when home was only a few days away. Normally they would not have attempted the hazardous trip to Mirkwood and back so late in the season, but Elrond had insisted that it was critical Erestor meet with Thranduil before the weather cut them off from the other realms. As dear as Erestor was to Elrond, Glorfindel knew it must indeed be important if he was sending the counselor. Pushing aside Erestor’s protests that he was perfectly able to lead his own escort, Elrond and Glorfindel had insisted that the captain accompany him with fifty of their best guards. Although Elladan and Elrohir had begged to join the patrol and help see to the counselor’s safety, Erestor himself had forbidden it, insisting they remain with their father. He would not see all who were dear to Elrond risked on the journey.
Nearing a human village, Erestor suddenly stood up in his stirrups. “Oh, look, Glorfindel!” he cried. “They are having a faire! Could we not stop for just a little while?”
Glorfindel chuckled at his long-time friend. “You want to buy him a gift, don’t you? He always brings something back for you from his travels.”
Erestor grinned and nodded, “Please? I know he does not need anything. As much as I wish to be back home, I just want to get him a little something.”
The captain looked back over his shoulder at his men and saw their hopeful faces. He had been pushing them hard. A few hours delay would not hurt. “Very well. All right, we will stop, but just for a few hours – no more.” Turning to his men, he said, “Half of you stay with the horses on the outskirts of the village while the other half enjoys the faire. After two hours, the first ones will come back to guard the horses and the rest of you may go to the faire. In four hours we leave.”
The elves rode on. After a few moments, Erestor said, “I must say, some regular food will not go amiss – for any of us, I’ll warrant. I am quite tired of dried fruit and waybread. Do you suppose they will have fresh fruit and vegetables?”
Glorfindel shrugged. “I would imagine so. I will check for some provisions while you go with some of our guards to find his gift.”
And that is exactly what they did. The village folk were a little wary of the elves at first, but seeing they meant no harm and were spending silver readily, the villagers soon welcomed their presence. Glorfindel and a few of his men had just completed their purchase of several sacks of ripe apples, oranges and assorted vegetables when Erestor hurried over to him with four of his guards.
“Glorfindel,” the counselor said under his breath. “Come, quickly.” Grabbing the captain’s arm, he pulled him away. “Draw your cloak around you – put your hood up.”
Glorfindel motioned to his guards to return to the horses with their purchases, then drew his cloak around him, raised his hood, and allowed Erestor to drag him away with the four other guards, noticing they were all likewise covered. “Tell me,” he said quietly. “What is wrong?”
“You have to see, my lord,” one of the guards whispered. “At the end of the town there is an area where a man is selling slaves. There is an elf….”
“What?” Glorfindel hissed. “Show me.”
“We have to help him,” Erestor whispered. “He is so small and thin – and they have chains on him.”
They neared the area where men were gathered around a raised platform on which the slave trader was auctioning his “wares”. Glorfindel stopped them out of earshot of the men and watched.
“Do you see him?” Erestor whispered. “Behind the platform. He is the last remaining and is to be sold next.”
“I see him. We cannot just take him without causing trouble,” Glorfindel whispered. “I do not want us to start a war here. If we called in all of our guards we could do it, but that is not the best way. How much coin have you left?”
Erestor reached into a pocket and handed Glorfindel his coin purse. The captain weighed it in his hand. Without being asked, the four guards handed him their own purses. Nodding his head in thanks, Glorfindel took out his own. “I think it is enough.”
“Look, they are starting,” one of the guards whispered.
Moving close enough to join in on the bidding when it was time, they watched and waited. The slave trader extolled the virtues of the elf, promising the buyers a strong servant for many years, and one who did not need much to eat. One of the men looking to bid on the elf yelled to the trader to remove the slave’s ragged tunic so he could see the state of the “merchandise”. Too many lash marks would mean the elf was not easy to manage. The men seemed satisfied with the result.
Glorfindel cringed when he saw the small elf wrap his arms around his boney frame, the chains fastened around his wrists clanking. He was very undernourished, his ribs clearly sticking out, and was none too clean. When the trader forced the elf to turn around, the captain’s hands curled into fists at the sight of the lash marks.
“We have to get him out of here,” Erestor whispered, his eyes filling with unshed tears. “I cannot bear to see an elf like this. He is so young.”
“We will not be leaving without him, Erestor, one way or the other,” Glorfindel replied through his clenched teeth. As they waited, he caught stealthy, barely perceivable movement out of the corner of his eye. A rustling of leaves, no more than from a gentle breeze, told him that most of the rest of their patrol, alerted by the elves who had been with him earlier, had taken positions in and around the surrounding trees.
In the end, it took all six pouches of their silver, the gold hair clasp that Erestor had purchased as a gift, and the gold and sapphire brooch worn by Glorfindel on his cloak to purchase the elf. None of the elves regretted parting with their possessions to free one of their kind.
When the trader declared that the elf was theirs, Erestor rushed to the platform before anyone could stop him, and reached for the smaller elf, for once in his life totally disregarding everything else around him. He was solely focused on helping the elf they had just “purchased”.
Neither Glorfindel nor the guards, however, were so unobservant. Seeing the look in the eyes of the trader and the other men at Erestor’s beauty, and moving as one, they threw back their hoods and cloaks and unsheathed their swords.
“Do not even think it!” Glorfindel cried out in a loud voice as some of the men moved for their own weapons. “You would be dead before you raised your swords.” At his nod to the trees, tens of arrows flew over the heads of the men. “We have purchased this elf fairly and we are leaving with him – now!”
Little by little, in pairs and threes, the men who had attended the auction drifted away, wanting no part of any trouble with the elves, until only the trader remained.
Striding up to the platform, Glorfindel addressed the trader. “Give me the key to his shackles.”
The trader scowled. “No key. I must have lost it.”
Glorfindel suppressed an overwhelming urge to run his blade through the man and turned to Erestor and the elf. “Move away from him, Erestor.” The small elf stood, swaying, his eyes downcast as the counselor stepped back. Lifting the elf’s chin with a finger, Glorfindel looked into sad eyes, and said, “Do you understand me, young one?” The elf nodded. “Kneel and extend your arms out on the platform as far as you can. Then close your eyes and do not move. I am going to cut away your chains.”
The elf obeyed instantly, kneeling and stretching his arms out as far as he could, his eyes closed. His body shook, but he did not move.
In two blindingly fast swings, the crash of metal hitting metal resounded, and Glorfindel’s powerful sword severed the chains from the shackles on the elf’s wrists. “Help him up now, Erestor. We are leaving.”
Erestor assisted the young elf up, steadying him against his body, drew his cloak around the shivering form and placed his arm around the small shoulders. As they left the platform and joined the other elves, Erestor and his charge were surrounded and protected by the guards. They moved through the village as quickly as possible and reached their horses where two elves still stood guard.
“Let me take him, Erestor,” Glorfindel said. “Asfaloth can carry two more easily than your horse can. When we get a good way from here we can stop and rest and get him some better food.” Glorfindel knew that Erestor’s horse was capable of carrying both the slender counselor and the emaciated elf, but a feeling of protectiveness had overwhelmed him once they had reached the horses. Taking the smaller elf and lifting him easily into his arms, he set him on the great warhorse’s back, then drew a blanket out of his pack and wrapped it around the former slave. He handed the elf his water flask and a piece of waybread. “Eat this now and take some water. It will ease your hunger until we can stop.”
The elf reached out shakily and took the bread and water, looking at Glorfindel with frightened eyes.
“It is all right,” Glorfindel whispered, patting his leg gently. “You need no longer fear. You are among elves again and we will care for you. You are safe. No harm will come to you from any here. Eat.”
The elf cautiously took a bite of the bread, but his hunger betrayed him and he wolfed it down, followed by a large drink of the water.
“Feeling a little better now?” Glorfindel asked softly.
The elf nodded and dropped his eyes.
When all of the guards were accounted for, Glorfindel mounted Asfaloth, securing the small elf in front of him, took up the reins, and said, “Let us leave this place quickly. I do not think we will have any problem with the men, but they are unpredictable.”
As they rode away, Erestor watched the elf in front of Glorfindel. His eyes were haunted, and he had not said a word. The little elf’s head reached only the upper part of Glorfindel’s chest. He seemed dwarfed by the tall warrior. Moving his horse closer to Asfaloth, he smiled at the elf and said, “You are safe now, my friend. And you are free. When we stop to rest for the night, we will see about taking those shackles off of your wrists. My name is Erestor, and you are riding with our captain, Glorfindel. We only take you with us to care for you. When we reach Imladris and you are well again, it will be up to you if will stay with us. I hope you will. You will be very welcome there.” Erestor paused, waiting to see if the elf would speak, and perhaps give them his name. When the elf continued to sit with his eyes lowered, Erestor looked at Glorfindel in concern.
Glorfindel nodded. “Give him time, Erestor. He does not know us, and has had a hard time of it.”
Erestor nodded and they rode on.
Glorfindel bent his head to speak softly to the little elf. “It is true, you know. You are safe with us now, little one. Have you ever heard of Imladris?” The elf shook his head. “Ah. Well, it is an elven settlement, hidden in a valley and safe. It was founded as a refuge from the evil in this world. You will be very safe there, and no one will shackle you ever again. You will have enough to eat, and a good bed to sleep in, in a nice room. You will see, my little friend.” And baths, Glorfindel thought, wondering how long it had been since the elf had been allowed to bathe. His smell was….well, there was no other word for it but foul. His hair had been combed into some semblance of order, but it was just as foul smelling and dirty as the rest of him. Glorfindel didn’t even want to consider what the stench was made up of, and wondered how the elf had been forced to live to acquire it.
It was nearly five hours before they stopped, having reached a tributary of their own river, the Bruinen. Glorfindel had fed the silent elf small pieces of waybread and given him more water during their ride, not wanting him to become ill from too much food all at once, but not wanting him to be hungry either. The sun was beginning to move lower in the heavens, and Glorfindel reckoned they were far enough away from any danger from the trader or the other men, not that he had been seriously concerned about it.
When they stopped, the well-trained guards began setting up the camp, each knowing exactly which duty was theirs to perform. As some stood guard, others built fires, pulling out cooking pots from their supplies carried by the pack horses to begin preparing the vegetables they had purchased for cooking, while others left the area to hunt for fresh game. To the still frightened elf sitting on Glorfindel’s horse, it was an amazing sight to see so many elves working in unison without being ordered to do so.
Dismounting, Glorfindel lifted the silent elf from Asfaloth and set him on the ground. “You have ridden far today, little one. I hope you are not too sore tomorrow. Before we do anything else, let us see if we can get those horrid shackles off of you, shall we?”
The elf simply stood with downcast eyes where Glorfindel had placed him, but when the captain took his arm to lead to him to where Erestor sat waiting for them, he offered no resistance.
“Come and sit here, my friend,” Erestor said, indicating the log he sat on. When the elf sat silently, the counselor said, “Rest your arms on my knee while Glorfindel unlocks the shackles.” Erestor was afraid the elf might not have the strength to hold his arms out for a long period while Glorfindel maneuvered a slim piece of metal inside of the locks. He frowned when the elf silently placed his arms as he was told, but still did not look at them. A thought slowly took shape in his mind. “Were you told never to look at those who kept you, my friend?” he asked gently. The elf nodded.
Erestor and Glorfindel traded glances over the elf’s head. Glorfindel shook his head in disgust. The captain placed two fingers under the elf’s chin and lifted it up. Looking into haunted eyes, he said softly, “Those days are over, young one. Look at us. You are one of us. You no longer have to bow to the whims of men. You are here as a fellow elf – as a friend. You do not have to hide from anyone ever again. No one here or in Imladris will harm you. You will never again be beaten for doing something wrong. We are very proud of you for surviving as you have.”
The young elf took a deep breath. Oh, he wanted to believe what these elves were telling him. They seemed nice – as if they really did want to help him. The golden one had given him food and water when he was starving, and he had such truthful looking eyes – what little he had seen of them. The dark elf’s voice and touch were always so gentle; he seemed afraid of hurting him. If only he could believe them. If only he really was safe and would not have to go back to the men. If only he could be certain this was all not to simply test his obedience.
“It is true, little one,” Glorfindel whispered sadly, seeing the doubt and fear in the elf’s eyes. With all his heart, he wanted nothing but to see the doubt replaced with confidence and assurance. “You will see. We will just have to prove to you that now is the beginning of a new life – a good life – for you.” Taking the long, thin piece of metal that Erestor had supplied, he inserted it into the lock and slowly began to feel for the release.
The young elf fought the urge to hold his breath. He had been kept in chains for so much of his life that they were nearly a part of him. He heard a soft ‘click’ and the metal fell away from his wrist. A few moments later, another click and the second shackle fell. Raising his arms, the elf stared at his wrists. Was he really free? The two elves had said that he was. He cautiously lifted his eyes to the golden elf.
“It is true, little one. You are free,” Glorfindel whispered, seeing the look in the elf’s eyes. It would take some time for this one to fully realize his life had changed, thought the captain, and he wondered for how many years the young elf had been held captive. “Come, take your first steps in freedom again.” Rising, he offered his hand to the smaller elf.
The little elf wondered at the hand held out to him. Was he supposed to take it? He had never been allowed to touch anyone, not since he had been taken, and he did not allow himself to think of his life before that. Every once in a while, a flicker of a memory would come to him, but he always pushed it away – it hurt too much to remember. Deciding it would probably be best if kept his hands at his side, he rose and took his first hesitant steps. Nothing happened. No one said anything to him. Gaining courage, he walked past the golden elf, towards the river. He could feel the two elves’ eyes on him, but everyone else just went about their business and no one was stopping him.
Reaching the edge of the river, he wondered if it was possible for him to enter it. It had been so long since he had been allowed to bathe and he knew he was filthy, although his sense of smell had long ago adjusted to his own stench. The river here was narrow and slow, and probably not very deep. The setting sun glinted off the gently rippling water, and the soothing sound called to him. He stared at the water for long minutes. Some of the guards finished their tasks. Removing their clothing at the river’s edge, they entered it a little way from where the elf stood and began washing themselves and their long hair. Some were even playing and splashed one another with the water, laughing. The elf turned and looked at the two elves behind him plaintively, then to the river, then back again.
Glorfindel and Erestor walked slowly toward the young elf. “Would you like to bathe in the river?” Glorfindel asked gently. “There is time before our meal is ready.” The small elf nodded.
“I will bring soaps and clothing, Glorfindel,” Erestor said, “if you will stay and help our new friend.” The counselor smiled, pleased with the development, and hurried back to where his packs had been laid. Erestor was several inches shorter and lither than the average elf. Although the former slave was smaller yet, the counselor’s clothing would fit him best. As he gathered soaps, bathing oils, fresh tunics and leggings, and a few small towels he always carried on journeys, one of the elves who had been with him at the village approached.
“My lord,” the guard said quietly, “we have all been concerned about our new friend. How does he fare?”
“He has not yet spoken, Suithoron, but he has let us know he wishes to bathe in the river,” Erestor replied softly. “That is a good sign. I do not believe they allowed him to speak, just as he was not allowed to look upon his former masters.” Erestor looked towards the river where Glorfindel was helping the elf remove his tattered clothing. “My heart hurts for him, but I believe he will recover, given time.”
Suithoron nodded, “We will make sure he eats well tonight, my lord.”
Erestor thanked the guard and hurried to the river. Removing his own clothing, he joined Glorfindel and the elf in the river, bring the soaps and oils.
The silent elf had cautiously walked into the river, letting the cool water flow around him. It was more wonderful than he had remembered, and for the first time he felt free. Closing his eyes he submerged himself, and then rose again, over and over. With his back to the other elves, a small smile actually formed on his face before he quickly concealed it.
Erestor and Glorfindel watched the smaller elf, grinning, as they washed themselves and their hair. When they were finished, they looked at each other conspiratorially. It was time to get their new friend clean. Glorfindel called to the elf to join them, and obediently, if reluctantly, he came.
“I have some lovely soap here, my friend,” Erestor said. “It is time for you to wash the past away and become an elf again.” The counselor lifted the elf’s chin with his fingers. “You do not have to shield your eyes any longer, young one. Will you allow Glorfindel and me to assist you?”
It took only the elf’s nod, and the captain and the counselor set upon the filthy body and hair with zest. Glorfindel scrubbed the elf’s long hair, along with his ears and neck, three times, before all of the filth was finally removed. Erestor poured bathing oil on a small cloth handed to him by one of the guards and scrubbed the rest of the elf’s body with a vengeance until the years of accumulated dirt were no more.
The poor little elf didn’t know what hit him. He closed his eyes when he was told to, dunked his head into the river when commanded, and moved when and how he was ordered. The next thing he knew he was carried from the river, dried off, dressed in clean, new clothing, and was seated before a fire wrapped in a blanket, while Glorfindel toweled dry and brushed his hair, and Erestor fought with any remaining dirt under his fingernails.
The guards secretly watched, hiding their grins, as their new companion turned from a seemingly tiny, scruffy waif into a beautiful elf, with a crown of shining auburn hair on his head.
“No one would know you, little one,” Glorfindel said smiling, and he finally stood and looked at the little elf.
“You are an elf once again, and a most lovely one,” Erestor added softly.
The setting sun glinted off the smaller elf’s hair, turning it a deep red. Dropping down in front of the elf, Glorfindel asked, “Will you raise your eyes and look at us, little one?” The small elf raised his head and Glorfindel looked into the most amazingly colored lilac-gray eyes. The vision before him took his breath away, and he whispered, “You are indeed beautiful.”
“Mel…po…mean.” The little elf’s voice was harsh from long disuse. “My…my…name is Melpomaen,” he whispered, staring into the bluest eyes he had ever seen.
Glorfindel released a joyful shout and pulled the little elf into his arms. “Melpomaen! Welcome back, Melpomaen.” Grinning over the elf’s head at the others, he whispered. “Welcome home, little one. Welcome home.”
A startled Melpomaen didn’t know what to do when Glorfindel grabbed him and hugged him. It had been so long since anyone had held him…hugged him. But it felt so good. Gradually his arms found their way around the large elf, and when he heard the musical voice whispering, “Welcome home,” in his ear, all of his apprehension faded away. It was true – he was home. And he knew he was safe with these elves – this elf. Melting into the strong chest, held in strong but gentle arms, he cried for the first time in decades.
Glorfindel gently rocked the sobbing elf in his arms, whispering soothing nothings and holding him close. When Melpomaen’s tears finally ceased, Glorfindel smoothed his hair back from his face and gently dried his wet cheeks with his thumbs. Placing a chaste kiss on the younger elf’s brow, he asked, “Feeling better now?”
Melpomaen nodded. “I am sorry,” he whispered, his voice still horse. “It…it has just been so long since anyone held me…cared about me….”
Erestor sat down beside the two other elves and said, “Drink some tea, little one. It will help with your throat.”
Melpomaen looked up, his still moist eyes meeting Erestor’s. “Thank you. You have been so kind to me, but I was afraid.”
Erestor nodded. “It is all right. Drink the tea now. I feared that you had been forbidden to speak as well. Was I right?”
Melpomaen took the warm tea and sipped it, still held in Glorfindel’s arms. At Erestor’s question he nodded. “Some of them were afraid of me, I think. I was forbidden to speak or touch any of them.”
“For how long were you held, Melpomaen?” Glorfindel asked gently.
“I am not sure. It was through the lifetime of four masters. The fifth one needed money, so when his father died, he sold me to the trader.” The elf’s voice was slowly recovering, thanks to the healing tea that Erestor had brought.
“Over two hundred years!” Glorfindel exclaimed, holding the little elf tighter again. Melpomaen had done well to survive that long of a time. “Thank the Valar we found you!”
Erestor stroked Melpomaen’s shining hair. “You have done well, young one. Are you ready to eat your first real meal? It is ready now.”
“I have eaten more today already than I usually do in a week, but I am hungry again.” Looking to Glorfindel again, the one who had been feeding him all day, he whispered shyly, “May I eat again, Glorfindel?”
Glorfindel grinned, pleased that Melpomaen has remembered his name. “Indeed you may, dear one. Let us see what they have cooked for us. It smells delicious.” The captain realized that he would have to release the elf from his embrace, and found that he was reluctant to do so. It had felt wonderful holding Melpomaen. With a final, gentle squeeze, he allowed the elf to stand.
One of Erestor’s eyebrows shot up at hearing the endearment his old friend had called Melpomaen, but he wisely said nothing, and the three elves joined the guards for their meal.
Melpomaen sat between Glorfindel and Erestor on a blanket on the ground, and was handed a spoon and what seemed to him to be an awfully large bowl, filled with steaming, rich stew. Next to him were placed several apples and several pieces of griddle bread. He looked at Glorfindel with huge eyes, and whispered, “All of this is for me?”
Glorfindel chuckled as he took his own bowl of the stew from a guard and nodded his thanks. “All for you. Try to eat slowly, and let your stomach tell you when you have had enough.”
Melpomaen took up his spoon and dipped it into the bowl, and then carefully brought it to his mouth. His eyes closed in bliss as he tasted meat, potato, onion, and the rich sauce. “Oh!” he couldn’t help exclaiming when he had finished chewing and swallowing the first mouthful. Nothing he had ever remembered eating had tasted so good. Scooping up another spoonful, he continued eating, not even noticing how the others were watching him and grinning.
After the meal, the guards not on duty sat around talking and joking with Erestor and Glorfindel. Melpomaen simply listened as he munched on an apple, savoring every bite. Before long, his head began to droop, and he rested against Glorfindel’s shoulder.
“Tired, little one?” Glorfindel asked. “You have had an exciting and exhausting day.”
Melpomaen nodded and rubbed his stomach. “Tired from eating too much. In Imladris….do you eat as good there?”
“Better,” replied Glorfindel. “This is just camp food that old soldiers can cook up. There are big kitchens in Imladris and lots of cooks that make all kinds of wonderful things like cakes.”
“I think I’m going to like it there,” Melpomaen mumbled as reverie overtook him and his head dropped into Glorfindel’s lap.
Erestor stifled a laugh so as not to wake the sleeping elf, and whispered, “He has done very well today. He is still shy, but does not seem to be afraid of us any longer. Elrond will be pleased to hear how we rescued him.”
“And all because you wanted to stop at the faire to purchase a gift. The Valar surely sent us there today. I am sorry you had to lose the gift you purchased, Erestor,” Glorfindel whispered. He stroked the soft head on his lap.
“Do not think of it, my friend. It was nothing compared to his life. Melpomaen is much more important. I must remember to repay your guards when we are home, however.”
“I will take care of that, my friend,” Glorfindel said. “When we return home he will need some time to settle in and return to health, then he can begin thinking of what he would like to learn and do. I do hope he stays with us.”
“As do I,” Erestor whispered back, yawning. “Time to sleep, I think.” Rising, he motioned for Glorfindel to stay while he laid out their bedrolls. As Glorfindel normally slept next to Erestor while they traveled to ensure the counselor’s safety, it was a simple matter to place an extra blanket between them for Melpomaen. Once the bedrolls were ready, they carefully moved the small elf to avoid waking him, and lay down on either side of him. Erestor watched how Glorfindel looked at Melpomaen. “You like him very much.”
“I do,” Glorfindel whispered. “He is very precious. To have been through so much for so long – starved and beaten. He is small, but he is strong.”
“And quite a beauty,” Erestor added slyly.
“He is indeed beautiful, and I sense how beautiful his heart is as well. He is a precious soul. Good night, Erestor. Sleep well, my friend.” Glorfindel wrapped an arm protectively around Melpomaen and settled down to sleep.
~~~*~~~
In the morning, Melpomaen woke, cocooned in blankets, and feeling more warm and wonderful than he could remember. He thought about everything that had happened yesterday, the wonderful elves who had bought him from the trader, the clothes he now wore and the food he had eaten, and tears of gratitude welled in his eyes.
Glorfindel, seeing the small elf was awake, knelt beside him. “Good morning, little one,” he said, but then noticed Melpomaen’s tears. “What is it, dear one? Is something wrong?”
Melpomaen shook his head, and then sat up and threw his arms around Glorfindel. “I am happy,” he whispered against the large elf’s chest. “Thank you for helping me. Thank you for buying me and taking me away with you.”
“Oh, little one,” Glorfindel whispered. “You do not have to thank us. I am just so happy that we found you.” He hugged the little elf close. “We would have done whatever was necessary to free you.”
One of the guards approached with a bowl filled with more of the stew from the previous night. “Is our new friend ready for his breakfast, my lord?”
Melpomaen raised his head and looked at Glorfindel, confused. “But I ate just last night!”
“It is quite normal to eat three times a day,” Glorfindel said, saddened that Melpomaen had become so used to not being able to nourish his body. “You are so thin, and you need to eat regularly to regain your health, little one. It is not right for anyone – elf, human, dwarf or animal – to have to survive with as little food as you have done.” Thanking the guard, he reached out and took the bowl. Releasing the little elf from his other arm, he said. “Come and sit beside me and eat. We will ride hard and fast today and you will need the nourishment.”
Erestor returned from the river where he had gone to wash, and sat beside them with his own breakfast. “How do you feel this morning, my friend?” he asked Melpomaen.
Melpomaen stopped eating and his face lit up with a smile. “Happy. Thank you for saving me, Erestor – for bringing me with you.”
Erestor smiled in return and reached out to sooth Melpomaen’s still-tousled hair. “I am so happy that we found you, young one. It near broke my heart to see you there,” he said softly. “If we had not stopped there….” Erestor shivered.
“But we did, thanks to you my friend,” Glorfindel said heartily. “Do not think on if - we did, and Melpomaen is safe now.”
“May I ask you something, Glorfindel?” Melpomaen said.
“Of course, little one.” Glorfindel waited for the elf’s question.
Last night, I heard some of the guards address Erestor as “my lord”. And this morning, the guard who brought my breakfast called you “my lord”. Should I be addressing you both as “my lord” too?”
Glorfindel shook his head. “No, Melpomaen. The only reason the guards are calling me “my lord” is because of Erestor’s presence and the respect they bear him because of his position as our lord’s chief counselor. If Erestor were not here, they would be calling me just plain Glorfindel.”
“And I do not care for titles outside of formal occasions, Melpomaen,” Erestor added kindly. “Once we are in Imladris, the only time you need to address us as “my lord” is during formal meetings or receptions. But do not worry about that now. On those occasions, Glorfindel or I will guide you. The only person you will need to address as “my lord” for now is our lord, Elrond, and he will probably tell you to call him simply Elrond, as he does not care for the formality of titles among friends either.”
Melpomaen nodded and smiled, and then finished eating his breakfast in silence, savoring every bite.
~~~*~~~
TBC
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