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lotr_sesaTitle: Camaraderie
Author: samtyr
Fandom: LotR
For: LotR SeSa 2010 (erfan_starled)
Genre: Friendship (very vague slash)
Characters: Erestor, Glorfindel
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and the plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Friendships that start unexpectedly often are the most enduring.
~~Tirion-on-Túna~~
The glint of golden hair caught Erestor’s eye, for there were few Vanyar who had decided to remain in Tirion. Curious, he looked over the wall and saw a small boy happily playing in the dirt of a vegetable garden.
“Hello, little one.”
“Hi!” The golden-haired child gave the dark elf a quick gap-toothed grin before turning his attention to arranging white hyalmar shells along the garden’s border. Erestor tried to imagine who the child belonged to.
Erestor watched the quiet scene unfolding for several minutes until a maid hurried into view, clearly looking for her lost charge. She moved awkwardly for she was veiled in the overtly modest fashion of the oldest Vanyar houses.
“There you are!” she said, snatching at the child’s arm and pulling him to his feet. The child’s eyes watered but he made no sound of protest. “Come, before your grandsire notices. You know better than to wander in public like this.”
“He was not causing any trouble.” Erestor spoke up, wondering just what was going on. “Surely things cannot be that bad.”
“Please my lord, say nothing.” The maid looked at him with rising panic in her eyes. “Please.”
Erestor nodded in acquiescence but his eyes were narrowed in concern as he watched them walk away.
~~Helcaraxë~~
Erestor clutched the heavy wool cloak tightly around his shoulders but it was little help against the bitter cold. He struggled on, trying not to think of the ones who had fallen. This was madness but he had promised to follow Fingolfin.
Once again, his eye caught a tiny flash of gold, and he turned around to look. Yet another elf stumbled to the ground and he hurried to their side. If at all possible, he would not let this one fall. He knelt, pushing at the stiff golden hair that was iced in a helmet of silver.
“Glorfindel!” He was stunned to see the Vanya on his hands and knees, head bowed. “Where are your people?”
“I am alone.” There was a harsh cough as the youth shook, trying to pull a thin cotton blanket around his lean frame. “My grandsire banished me as soon as I came of age. He said my Noldor blood was a curse.”
“Come, let me help you.” Erestor pulled the youngster to his feet, watching as he swayed in the strong, biting wind.
“I do not think I can go on, Erestor,” he said as he began to sink to down again. “I’m so sleepy.”
“Yes, you can. Get up.”
“No, I cannot.” Glorfindel struggled to reach into the pocket of his tunic, and pressed something in Erestor’s hand. Erestor looked down and saw a small white shell. “Keep this to remember me by?”
“I will not let you fall, Glorfindel.” Erestor said. “We will walk together. You will share my cloak.”
Erestor pulled the youth to his feet once more, wrapped his cloak partly around him, and so they continued on through the unrelenting snow and ice.
~~Gondolin~~
“We have eleven Houses.” Turgon looked around at the assembled nobles. “Who shall become the twelfth?”
A brief silence followed the question as it was given careful consideration, for Turgon had a distinct vision of what he wanted his kingdom to become even though the building of it had scarcely begun.
“May I speak?” Erestor stood in the chamber. “I would like to nominate Glorfindel.”
“You do not wish for your own House, Erestor?” Turgon raised an eyebrow, faintly amused at the dark elf’s words, for it was well-known that Erestor was one of the most eligible - and elusive - bachelors in the city.
“I am already allied to one,” he replied smoothly. “Glorfindel is young but he already is one of our finest warriors; he is well-suited to establish a House.”
“Are there any other suggestions?” Turgon asked though it was no less a command, despite that the words were quietly spoken. “Unless there are any objections?”
There were none, for the chamber remained quiet.
“Bring him here, Erestor,” Turgon told him, so Erestor bowed and hurried out. Within moments he was outside, listening for the sounds of children’s laughter.
For whenever Glorfindel was off-duty, the children crowded around him and he would listen to them and play with them, often allowing them to dress his hair with all sorts of flowers, ribbons and other trinkets.
“Come, my friend,” Erestor said as he found Glorfindel seated by the foundation stones for the new fountain that Echthelion had designed. “The King wishes to see you.”
“I will come at once,” Glorfindel replied, carefully shooing the youngsters away as he stood up. “Should I -- do I have time to change?”
“You look just fine.”
Together the two men walked side by side, automatically matching the other's steps.
Glorfindel entered with flowers woven in his bright hair, celandine, elanor and uilos the most prominent among them.
“Glorfindel, we have decided you will be the head of the twelfth House of Gondolin.”
“Your majesty.” Glorfindel bowed deeply to the king, and then to the other assembled nobles. “My lords. This is a great honor.”
“And the name of your house will be?” asked Ecthelion, who was acting secretary for this session.
“The House of the Golden Flower,” replied Turgon before any other could answer. “Yes, it suits you well Glorfindel. Or I should say, Lord Glorfindel. But come; let us observe the formalities. Erestor, bring my sword.”
Glorfindel knelt with bowed head, scarcely daring to believe the light taps on his shoulders. He was a Lord now, he thought dazedly and nearly missed the next words the King spoke.
“… and as a Lord, your rank is now that of Captain. Rise, Glorfindel and take your place among the company.”
*****
Erestor knew better than to look back but he couldn’t stop from turning his head. Glorfindel stood at the head of Cirith Thoronath, facing a Balrog. His bright gold form was illuminated by the creature’s dark fire and Erestor already knew what the outcome must be, though his heart hoped otherwise.
xxxEndxxx
Author: samtyr
Fandom: LotR
For: LotR SeSa 2010 (erfan_starled)
Genre: Friendship (very vague slash)
Characters: Erestor, Glorfindel
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and the plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Friendships that start unexpectedly often are the most enduring.
~~Tirion-on-Túna~~
The glint of golden hair caught Erestor’s eye, for there were few Vanyar who had decided to remain in Tirion. Curious, he looked over the wall and saw a small boy happily playing in the dirt of a vegetable garden.
“Hello, little one.”
“Hi!” The golden-haired child gave the dark elf a quick gap-toothed grin before turning his attention to arranging white hyalmar shells along the garden’s border. Erestor tried to imagine who the child belonged to.
Erestor watched the quiet scene unfolding for several minutes until a maid hurried into view, clearly looking for her lost charge. She moved awkwardly for she was veiled in the overtly modest fashion of the oldest Vanyar houses.
“There you are!” she said, snatching at the child’s arm and pulling him to his feet. The child’s eyes watered but he made no sound of protest. “Come, before your grandsire notices. You know better than to wander in public like this.”
“He was not causing any trouble.” Erestor spoke up, wondering just what was going on. “Surely things cannot be that bad.”
“Please my lord, say nothing.” The maid looked at him with rising panic in her eyes. “Please.”
Erestor nodded in acquiescence but his eyes were narrowed in concern as he watched them walk away.
~~Helcaraxë~~
Erestor clutched the heavy wool cloak tightly around his shoulders but it was little help against the bitter cold. He struggled on, trying not to think of the ones who had fallen. This was madness but he had promised to follow Fingolfin.
Once again, his eye caught a tiny flash of gold, and he turned around to look. Yet another elf stumbled to the ground and he hurried to their side. If at all possible, he would not let this one fall. He knelt, pushing at the stiff golden hair that was iced in a helmet of silver.
“Glorfindel!” He was stunned to see the Vanya on his hands and knees, head bowed. “Where are your people?”
“I am alone.” There was a harsh cough as the youth shook, trying to pull a thin cotton blanket around his lean frame. “My grandsire banished me as soon as I came of age. He said my Noldor blood was a curse.”
“Come, let me help you.” Erestor pulled the youngster to his feet, watching as he swayed in the strong, biting wind.
“I do not think I can go on, Erestor,” he said as he began to sink to down again. “I’m so sleepy.”
“Yes, you can. Get up.”
“No, I cannot.” Glorfindel struggled to reach into the pocket of his tunic, and pressed something in Erestor’s hand. Erestor looked down and saw a small white shell. “Keep this to remember me by?”
“I will not let you fall, Glorfindel.” Erestor said. “We will walk together. You will share my cloak.”
Erestor pulled the youth to his feet once more, wrapped his cloak partly around him, and so they continued on through the unrelenting snow and ice.
~~Gondolin~~
“We have eleven Houses.” Turgon looked around at the assembled nobles. “Who shall become the twelfth?”
A brief silence followed the question as it was given careful consideration, for Turgon had a distinct vision of what he wanted his kingdom to become even though the building of it had scarcely begun.
“May I speak?” Erestor stood in the chamber. “I would like to nominate Glorfindel.”
“You do not wish for your own House, Erestor?” Turgon raised an eyebrow, faintly amused at the dark elf’s words, for it was well-known that Erestor was one of the most eligible - and elusive - bachelors in the city.
“I am already allied to one,” he replied smoothly. “Glorfindel is young but he already is one of our finest warriors; he is well-suited to establish a House.”
“Are there any other suggestions?” Turgon asked though it was no less a command, despite that the words were quietly spoken. “Unless there are any objections?”
There were none, for the chamber remained quiet.
“Bring him here, Erestor,” Turgon told him, so Erestor bowed and hurried out. Within moments he was outside, listening for the sounds of children’s laughter.
For whenever Glorfindel was off-duty, the children crowded around him and he would listen to them and play with them, often allowing them to dress his hair with all sorts of flowers, ribbons and other trinkets.
“Come, my friend,” Erestor said as he found Glorfindel seated by the foundation stones for the new fountain that Echthelion had designed. “The King wishes to see you.”
“I will come at once,” Glorfindel replied, carefully shooing the youngsters away as he stood up. “Should I -- do I have time to change?”
“You look just fine.”
Together the two men walked side by side, automatically matching the other's steps.
Glorfindel entered with flowers woven in his bright hair, celandine, elanor and uilos the most prominent among them.
“Glorfindel, we have decided you will be the head of the twelfth House of Gondolin.”
“Your majesty.” Glorfindel bowed deeply to the king, and then to the other assembled nobles. “My lords. This is a great honor.”
“And the name of your house will be?” asked Ecthelion, who was acting secretary for this session.
“The House of the Golden Flower,” replied Turgon before any other could answer. “Yes, it suits you well Glorfindel. Or I should say, Lord Glorfindel. But come; let us observe the formalities. Erestor, bring my sword.”
Glorfindel knelt with bowed head, scarcely daring to believe the light taps on his shoulders. He was a Lord now, he thought dazedly and nearly missed the next words the King spoke.
“… and as a Lord, your rank is now that of Captain. Rise, Glorfindel and take your place among the company.”
*****
Erestor knew better than to look back but he couldn’t stop from turning his head. Glorfindel stood at the head of Cirith Thoronath, facing a Balrog. His bright gold form was illuminated by the creature’s dark fire and Erestor already knew what the outcome must be, though his heart hoped otherwise.
xxxEndxxx
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Date: 2010-12-24 06:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-24 07:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-24 07:08 pm (UTC)I like seeing a civil, and civilised, Turgon. I have not often seen that side of him in stories. Erestor is a very attractive elf in your story. I like his quiet, but poised nature. He obviously impresses other people... There’s another glimpse of detail as Glorfindel is so good with the children, clearly enjoying them. The little scene has got a happy feel to it, and makes me smile. There’s a gentleness about him which is lovely.
There’s a very sad ending, to the story. It was a bit too sad for me to fully enjoy, which is why in my prompts I asked that my story not include death, or someone dying. Flowers were in the squick list as well, so I'm not sure what happened in that regard.
The cameos of their lives provide glimpses of who they are and what they are going through. The simplicity of the ending seems to give it more poignancy, reminding me of 'less is more'.
Thank you for writing me the story, Samtyr. Merry Christmas!