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This is a slightly rough version, I'll probably edit it later. Please point out any faults or problems!
Chapter 5
Lindir knew he could not tell Rúmil about his feelings. Rúmil’s self-esteem was more fragile than glass; Lindir knew that if he approached him now, Rúmil would assume it was pity.
Instead he struck up a tentative friendship with the galadhrim, becoming his almost constant companion. Orophin had initially protested for he felt Lindir was taking Rúmil away from him, unadvisable under the circumstances, but even he could see the positive effect the minstrel had on his injured brother and had eventually let him be. After all, he wanted what was best for Rúmil.
The minstrel had taken to going to Rúmil’s rooms first thing in the morning to ensure the elf actually left them. Orophin tended to walk on eggshells around him, meaning that Rúmil often got away with things that he shouldn’t, but Lindir had no such compunctions. Though generally gentle-natured and soft-hearted, he could be as stubborn as any warrior when the need arose. He forcefully ordered Rúmil out, be it to the gardens, or his own rooms. He ignored the glares Rúmil gave him, though if looks could kill Lindir would have been walking Mandos’ Halls for some time.
Yet despite the glares, Lindir knew that Rúmil didn’t truly hate him. Every once in a while he’d grace the minstrel with one of his small smiles and Lindir knew his efforts were not in vain.
He brought Rúmil wherever he went, whenever possible. He knew that it wasn’t fair to drag the self-conscious galadhrim to parties and concerts, but when he practiced, or spent time that would have been spent alone, he tried to make sure Rúmil was there. Maybe in time Rúmil would consent to being seen at more public events.
Today Lindir sat on the floor of his rooms, near the open door leading to one of the gardens. A violin was in his hands and he was carefully rubbing polish into the wood. Rúmil was nearby, staring out into the gardens.
Though the galadhrim still didn’t react to very much he was clearly comfortable here. His relaxed posture told Lindir that. A mug of tea sat within easy reach and from time to time he sipped it. The tea had been prescribed by Elrond to ease the pain in his throat; thankfully it also had a pleasant flavour. The graceful lifting of the mug was the only movement from the elf; other that that he could have been made of stone.
After a time Lindir laid the violin back in it’s case and stood up. It had taken him all morning to clean and polish his instruments and in all that time Rúmil had not moved from his position by the door. He had not even acknowledged Lindir when the minstrel had brought him a fresh mug of tea.
“It is a beautiful day.” He commented. “Shall we take a walk?”
Slowly Rúmil turned and gave Lindir the look which he had quickly determined meant, quite simply, ‘no.’
Lindir however, ignored him and gently urged him to his feet. Rúmil stood, not because he did want to leave the rooms but because he had developed a deep affection for the minstrel and found that he did not wish to upset him.
Lindir smiled and held out his hand. Rúmil took it and the two headed out into the gardens.
*********************
Elladan watched as Orophin systematically pulled every single fletching off a quiver full of arrows. The galadhrim practically radiated frustration and Elladan was hesitant to approach his lover.
“Is something wrong?” He asked from a short way away.
“These feathers are terrible quality.” He growled. “I’ll have to replace them all.” He continued pulling off the offending feathers. Elladan let him be for a few minutes hoping he would speak of his own accord. When he showed no sign of doing so Elladan reluctantly stepped forward and took the arrow from his lover’s hand. Orophin looked up indignantly but was silenced by Elladan’s fingers on his lips.
“It is more than badly-fletched arrows bothering you. Has Rúmil upset you again?”
“It is not right to be upset with him.” Orophin replied rather stiffly. “It is not his fault.”
“But you ARE upset with him.” Elladan said. “Whether you wish to be or not.”
Orophin looked away, the arrow idle in his hands and Elladan sat next to him.
“It is natural, I am sure I would be the same in your position.” He mentally shuddered at the thought of Elrohir enduring what Rúmil had.
“Why can I not get through to him?” Orophin burst out. “Why am I not enough? Am I so useless? First I failed to help Haldir and now Rúmil!”
Elladan drew him into his arms.
“It is not your fault. They have both been through much, so much that they cannot think clearly. Both of them love you very much, they will remember that in time.”
Orophin could not meet his gaze; he was still unconvinced.
Elladan sighed and bent his head, trailing soft kisses down Orophin’s neck.
He was unprepared for Orophin’s reaction.
Orophin jerked back as if he’d been slapped, turning to glare accusingly at Elladan.
“What are you doing?” He yelled. Elladan was shocked and snapped back.
“I was TRYING to make you feel better!”
Orophin glared at him. “Sex is not the answer to everything, Elladan! Why must you think it is?”
Elladan fought to keep hold of his temper.
“I do not recall any previous complaints.” He spat out.
Orophin almost screamed in his frustration.
“Sex will not give Rúmil his voice back, or convince Haldir to live!”
“Neither will yelling at me!” Elladan retorted. “Or perhaps you have tired of me and I am of no interest to you any more!”
Orophin looked up in horror.
“No! How can you think that? I love you!” Suddenly he was scared, had he lost Elladan to a childish temper-tantrum?
Elladan caught the fear in Orophin’s eyes and calmed himself.
“I love you too. But you cannot go on like this. It will destroy you.”
Orophin closed his eyes.
“I know. I can feel myself falling apart.” He looked desperately at Elladan. “You’re the only thing keeping me together. I never meant to hurt you.”
Elladan gently took him into his arms.
“I know that you did not, for you love me as much as I love you. But you must calm yourself and be patient with Rúmil. Do not lose hope, Orophin, he will overcome this. As you are there for him, I am here for you.”
Orophin held his lover in a tight embrace.
“Not a day goes past when I do not thank the Valar for sending you to me. Thank you, Elladan.”
Elladan smiled. “You are most welcome. NOW can we make up properly?”
Orophin had to laugh. “Aye. Let us go and make up!”
Elladan grinned and quickly dragged Orophin off. Neither were seen again for the remainder of the afternoon.
***********************
Rúmil walked with Lindir through the lush gardens. The minstrel sang quietly as they walked, trying his best to pick songs that he thought Rúmil would like.
Rúmil appeared to appreciate his efforts, until he sang a particular verse about Gil-galad. Then the galadhrim wrinkled his nose his disgust and gently but firmly placed his hand over Lindir’s mouth, stopping him from continuing.
Lindir had not been able to stop himself from laughing.
“You do not like that one I take it?”
Rúmil had shaken his head and looked pained.
“Very well then!” Lindir said. “I’ll find something else!”
They had carried on like that for some time, Lindir singing softly, Rúmil enjoying the peacefulness of the gardens and Lindir’s company. He was amazed at the amount of time the minstrel spent with him; still wrapped in deep depression he could not understand why anyone would willingly seek his companionship.
Not until they came to a carved fountain did they stop to refresh themselves, for the day was hot, even for elves.
Rúmil splashed the cool water onto his face, before drinking as much as he could. Still healing, he felt the heat and the cold more than a healthy elf would.
Lindir also took a drink, noting the relief on Rúmil’s face as he cooled himself down.
“He’s too hot.” He thought. “Maybe I should not have brought him here.”
But Rúmil did not look particularly unhappy, especially now that he was cooler.
Rúmil sensed Lindir looking at him as he pushed a now-damp strand of hair behind his ear and graced the minstrel with one of his rare smiles.
Lindir smiled back, every time Rúmil did that his heart skipped a beat and reinforced his desire to see the galadhrim happy again.
In a moment of mischief, he reached into the fountain and splashed a large amount of water into Rúmil’s face.
Rúmil spluttered, spitting water and glared at Lindir. The minstrel gave him an innocent smile.
For a moment Rúmil was shocked, such games were no longer a part of his life. Oh, they had been commonplace once, but that was before the attack ripped his life apart. But when he looked at Lindir he could not refuse the minstrel his fun. After all, Lindir had done so much for him.
Determined to try, he splashed the minstrel back, hitting him directly in the face. Lindir blinked, surprised at Rúmil’s accuracy. “He is a galadhrim!” He thought to himself, splashing back.
Rúmil retaliated again and soon the two were engaged in a water-fight that any elfling would have enjoyed. Clothes were soaked and Lindir’s laughter rang throughout the garden.
It wasn’t until Lindir breathlessly called a halt that Rúmil realised something that shocked him. He really had enjoyed himself! For a few minutes he’d forgotten all about his pain and despair and lost himself in the game, something he had not thought possible. It cast a light in the shadows of his heart and he knew it was all thanks to Lindir.
He pulled Lindir close to him, hugging him in a gesture of thanks.
“You’re welcome.” Lindir murmured, returning the hug and wishing he could tell Rúmil just how much he meant to him.
Instead he broke away and took Rúmil’s hand in his.
“We should head back. Our clothes will dry as we walk.” Rúmil nodded and kept his hand in Lindir’s as they walked slowly back. He felt more at peace than he had done in sometime and wondered just what it was about Lindir that made him feel that way.
Orophin looked at his brother as he returned to the house with the ever-present Lindir. Though he looked impassive as always there were strange wet patches on their clothes and more importantly, there seemed to be a long-absent sparkle in Rúmil’s eyes.
Though the changes were slight, to those that cared about him, they were signs that there was hope yet. Orophin had yet to send word to Haldir; in his heart he had still feared loosing Rúmil. He had received word from Lórien that Haldir was still ill but was being cared for Anoriel.
But he was heartened by the progress, finding fresh hope that his family might one day be whole again. At the very least, it was time to send word to Lórien.
*************************
Haldir remembered a time long past, when another tragedy had struck them. Their parents had just been killed, both falling in the same attack. He was just short of his first millennium; Rúmil had just turned seven hundred. Orophin at twenty was but a baby.
Then, as now, he had fallen into depression. Though nearly three hundred years younger, it was Rúmil who had been the family’s strength, caring for both his older and younger brother. He had worked tirelessly, never complaining. Nothing was too much trouble, as long as his brothers were well cared for. Not until years later would Rúmil admit that he had finally broken down in Lord Celeborn’s arms from the strain. In time he had pulled his brother from the depths of his pain, distracting him with Orophin. As Haldir taught his youngest brother to read and write he’d come to realise that there were still things left to live for, that he still had a family.
But things were different now. Now not even Orophin had been able to rouse him. He had tried, but this pain was even deeper than the first and Haldir could not move past it.
Though many called him arrogant the truth was that he was anything but. He was a skilled and confident warrior, but he had a terribly fragile heart. Despite the rumours, he rarely took lovers and for many long years had found the contentment he desired from simple brotherly love. So close had he held them to his heart that Rúmil’s death was as his own. There was an emptiness inside him that would not go away. Even the thought that his fading would leave Orophin alone was not enough. He had been almost glad when he had been sent away, knowing that he could forge a new life in Rivendell. He loved Orophin dearly, but his heart was too badly broken.
Anoriel watched, as she always did. She had hoped that Haldir would regain the will to live, but he had not. He was fading; she suspected that he did not have much longer. Her heart went out to Orophin and she prayed to the Valar that he would not follow his brothers, rather than be left alone. But she knew that there was a possibility that this may well turn into a triple tragedy.
Slowly she made her way to the small kitchen, to prepare the broth she daily forced Haldir to eat, wondering if anything could pull him back from the edge.
End Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Lindir knew he could not tell Rúmil about his feelings. Rúmil’s self-esteem was more fragile than glass; Lindir knew that if he approached him now, Rúmil would assume it was pity.
Instead he struck up a tentative friendship with the galadhrim, becoming his almost constant companion. Orophin had initially protested for he felt Lindir was taking Rúmil away from him, unadvisable under the circumstances, but even he could see the positive effect the minstrel had on his injured brother and had eventually let him be. After all, he wanted what was best for Rúmil.
The minstrel had taken to going to Rúmil’s rooms first thing in the morning to ensure the elf actually left them. Orophin tended to walk on eggshells around him, meaning that Rúmil often got away with things that he shouldn’t, but Lindir had no such compunctions. Though generally gentle-natured and soft-hearted, he could be as stubborn as any warrior when the need arose. He forcefully ordered Rúmil out, be it to the gardens, or his own rooms. He ignored the glares Rúmil gave him, though if looks could kill Lindir would have been walking Mandos’ Halls for some time.
Yet despite the glares, Lindir knew that Rúmil didn’t truly hate him. Every once in a while he’d grace the minstrel with one of his small smiles and Lindir knew his efforts were not in vain.
He brought Rúmil wherever he went, whenever possible. He knew that it wasn’t fair to drag the self-conscious galadhrim to parties and concerts, but when he practiced, or spent time that would have been spent alone, he tried to make sure Rúmil was there. Maybe in time Rúmil would consent to being seen at more public events.
Today Lindir sat on the floor of his rooms, near the open door leading to one of the gardens. A violin was in his hands and he was carefully rubbing polish into the wood. Rúmil was nearby, staring out into the gardens.
Though the galadhrim still didn’t react to very much he was clearly comfortable here. His relaxed posture told Lindir that. A mug of tea sat within easy reach and from time to time he sipped it. The tea had been prescribed by Elrond to ease the pain in his throat; thankfully it also had a pleasant flavour. The graceful lifting of the mug was the only movement from the elf; other that that he could have been made of stone.
After a time Lindir laid the violin back in it’s case and stood up. It had taken him all morning to clean and polish his instruments and in all that time Rúmil had not moved from his position by the door. He had not even acknowledged Lindir when the minstrel had brought him a fresh mug of tea.
“It is a beautiful day.” He commented. “Shall we take a walk?”
Slowly Rúmil turned and gave Lindir the look which he had quickly determined meant, quite simply, ‘no.’
Lindir however, ignored him and gently urged him to his feet. Rúmil stood, not because he did want to leave the rooms but because he had developed a deep affection for the minstrel and found that he did not wish to upset him.
Lindir smiled and held out his hand. Rúmil took it and the two headed out into the gardens.
*********************
Elladan watched as Orophin systematically pulled every single fletching off a quiver full of arrows. The galadhrim practically radiated frustration and Elladan was hesitant to approach his lover.
“Is something wrong?” He asked from a short way away.
“These feathers are terrible quality.” He growled. “I’ll have to replace them all.” He continued pulling off the offending feathers. Elladan let him be for a few minutes hoping he would speak of his own accord. When he showed no sign of doing so Elladan reluctantly stepped forward and took the arrow from his lover’s hand. Orophin looked up indignantly but was silenced by Elladan’s fingers on his lips.
“It is more than badly-fletched arrows bothering you. Has Rúmil upset you again?”
“It is not right to be upset with him.” Orophin replied rather stiffly. “It is not his fault.”
“But you ARE upset with him.” Elladan said. “Whether you wish to be or not.”
Orophin looked away, the arrow idle in his hands and Elladan sat next to him.
“It is natural, I am sure I would be the same in your position.” He mentally shuddered at the thought of Elrohir enduring what Rúmil had.
“Why can I not get through to him?” Orophin burst out. “Why am I not enough? Am I so useless? First I failed to help Haldir and now Rúmil!”
Elladan drew him into his arms.
“It is not your fault. They have both been through much, so much that they cannot think clearly. Both of them love you very much, they will remember that in time.”
Orophin could not meet his gaze; he was still unconvinced.
Elladan sighed and bent his head, trailing soft kisses down Orophin’s neck.
He was unprepared for Orophin’s reaction.
Orophin jerked back as if he’d been slapped, turning to glare accusingly at Elladan.
“What are you doing?” He yelled. Elladan was shocked and snapped back.
“I was TRYING to make you feel better!”
Orophin glared at him. “Sex is not the answer to everything, Elladan! Why must you think it is?”
Elladan fought to keep hold of his temper.
“I do not recall any previous complaints.” He spat out.
Orophin almost screamed in his frustration.
“Sex will not give Rúmil his voice back, or convince Haldir to live!”
“Neither will yelling at me!” Elladan retorted. “Or perhaps you have tired of me and I am of no interest to you any more!”
Orophin looked up in horror.
“No! How can you think that? I love you!” Suddenly he was scared, had he lost Elladan to a childish temper-tantrum?
Elladan caught the fear in Orophin’s eyes and calmed himself.
“I love you too. But you cannot go on like this. It will destroy you.”
Orophin closed his eyes.
“I know. I can feel myself falling apart.” He looked desperately at Elladan. “You’re the only thing keeping me together. I never meant to hurt you.”
Elladan gently took him into his arms.
“I know that you did not, for you love me as much as I love you. But you must calm yourself and be patient with Rúmil. Do not lose hope, Orophin, he will overcome this. As you are there for him, I am here for you.”
Orophin held his lover in a tight embrace.
“Not a day goes past when I do not thank the Valar for sending you to me. Thank you, Elladan.”
Elladan smiled. “You are most welcome. NOW can we make up properly?”
Orophin had to laugh. “Aye. Let us go and make up!”
Elladan grinned and quickly dragged Orophin off. Neither were seen again for the remainder of the afternoon.
***********************
Rúmil walked with Lindir through the lush gardens. The minstrel sang quietly as they walked, trying his best to pick songs that he thought Rúmil would like.
Rúmil appeared to appreciate his efforts, until he sang a particular verse about Gil-galad. Then the galadhrim wrinkled his nose his disgust and gently but firmly placed his hand over Lindir’s mouth, stopping him from continuing.
Lindir had not been able to stop himself from laughing.
“You do not like that one I take it?”
Rúmil had shaken his head and looked pained.
“Very well then!” Lindir said. “I’ll find something else!”
They had carried on like that for some time, Lindir singing softly, Rúmil enjoying the peacefulness of the gardens and Lindir’s company. He was amazed at the amount of time the minstrel spent with him; still wrapped in deep depression he could not understand why anyone would willingly seek his companionship.
Not until they came to a carved fountain did they stop to refresh themselves, for the day was hot, even for elves.
Rúmil splashed the cool water onto his face, before drinking as much as he could. Still healing, he felt the heat and the cold more than a healthy elf would.
Lindir also took a drink, noting the relief on Rúmil’s face as he cooled himself down.
“He’s too hot.” He thought. “Maybe I should not have brought him here.”
But Rúmil did not look particularly unhappy, especially now that he was cooler.
Rúmil sensed Lindir looking at him as he pushed a now-damp strand of hair behind his ear and graced the minstrel with one of his rare smiles.
Lindir smiled back, every time Rúmil did that his heart skipped a beat and reinforced his desire to see the galadhrim happy again.
In a moment of mischief, he reached into the fountain and splashed a large amount of water into Rúmil’s face.
Rúmil spluttered, spitting water and glared at Lindir. The minstrel gave him an innocent smile.
For a moment Rúmil was shocked, such games were no longer a part of his life. Oh, they had been commonplace once, but that was before the attack ripped his life apart. But when he looked at Lindir he could not refuse the minstrel his fun. After all, Lindir had done so much for him.
Determined to try, he splashed the minstrel back, hitting him directly in the face. Lindir blinked, surprised at Rúmil’s accuracy. “He is a galadhrim!” He thought to himself, splashing back.
Rúmil retaliated again and soon the two were engaged in a water-fight that any elfling would have enjoyed. Clothes were soaked and Lindir’s laughter rang throughout the garden.
It wasn’t until Lindir breathlessly called a halt that Rúmil realised something that shocked him. He really had enjoyed himself! For a few minutes he’d forgotten all about his pain and despair and lost himself in the game, something he had not thought possible. It cast a light in the shadows of his heart and he knew it was all thanks to Lindir.
He pulled Lindir close to him, hugging him in a gesture of thanks.
“You’re welcome.” Lindir murmured, returning the hug and wishing he could tell Rúmil just how much he meant to him.
Instead he broke away and took Rúmil’s hand in his.
“We should head back. Our clothes will dry as we walk.” Rúmil nodded and kept his hand in Lindir’s as they walked slowly back. He felt more at peace than he had done in sometime and wondered just what it was about Lindir that made him feel that way.
Orophin looked at his brother as he returned to the house with the ever-present Lindir. Though he looked impassive as always there were strange wet patches on their clothes and more importantly, there seemed to be a long-absent sparkle in Rúmil’s eyes.
Though the changes were slight, to those that cared about him, they were signs that there was hope yet. Orophin had yet to send word to Haldir; in his heart he had still feared loosing Rúmil. He had received word from Lórien that Haldir was still ill but was being cared for Anoriel.
But he was heartened by the progress, finding fresh hope that his family might one day be whole again. At the very least, it was time to send word to Lórien.
*************************
Haldir remembered a time long past, when another tragedy had struck them. Their parents had just been killed, both falling in the same attack. He was just short of his first millennium; Rúmil had just turned seven hundred. Orophin at twenty was but a baby.
Then, as now, he had fallen into depression. Though nearly three hundred years younger, it was Rúmil who had been the family’s strength, caring for both his older and younger brother. He had worked tirelessly, never complaining. Nothing was too much trouble, as long as his brothers were well cared for. Not until years later would Rúmil admit that he had finally broken down in Lord Celeborn’s arms from the strain. In time he had pulled his brother from the depths of his pain, distracting him with Orophin. As Haldir taught his youngest brother to read and write he’d come to realise that there were still things left to live for, that he still had a family.
But things were different now. Now not even Orophin had been able to rouse him. He had tried, but this pain was even deeper than the first and Haldir could not move past it.
Though many called him arrogant the truth was that he was anything but. He was a skilled and confident warrior, but he had a terribly fragile heart. Despite the rumours, he rarely took lovers and for many long years had found the contentment he desired from simple brotherly love. So close had he held them to his heart that Rúmil’s death was as his own. There was an emptiness inside him that would not go away. Even the thought that his fading would leave Orophin alone was not enough. He had been almost glad when he had been sent away, knowing that he could forge a new life in Rivendell. He loved Orophin dearly, but his heart was too badly broken.
Anoriel watched, as she always did. She had hoped that Haldir would regain the will to live, but he had not. He was fading; she suspected that he did not have much longer. Her heart went out to Orophin and she prayed to the Valar that he would not follow his brothers, rather than be left alone. But she knew that there was a possibility that this may well turn into a triple tragedy.
Slowly she made her way to the small kitchen, to prepare the broth she daily forced Haldir to eat, wondering if anything could pull him back from the edge.
End Chapter 5
