VI: Moon Over Rhosgobel

Glorfindel was sitting on the ground in front of the bench that stood on one side of the bower door, his head on his knees, oblivious to the cold of the late autumn twilight, when Radagast came out. The Wizard held a strip of linen in his left hand. He looked down at the elf who was too sunk in misery to notice Radagast standing next to him, and pity washed over his face.

"Laurefindil," he said quietly.

The sound of his name in Quenya startled the elf, lost in dark memories, and Glorfindel looked up at the Wizard. Silently, Radagast showed him what was in his hand — a splinter of metal barely a finger’s width in length sat in the middle of the piece of linen. Glorfindel stared at it incomprehendingly and looked up at Radagast again in confusion.

"It’s from the knife that the orc used on Estel. Must’ve hit bone and broken off, getting lodged between tissue where it wouldn’t be seen right off. I suspect in your rush to help the lad, you and Elrond failed to notice the missing piece from the knife so never looked for it. No, don’t touch it; it may still be covered with poison."

"Estel?"

"Alive, for now." The Wizard sighed, sitting down on the bench on the other side of Glorfindel. "Where’s Elrond?"

"Asleep. I strengthened the healing trance a while ago. He won’t awaken before tomorrow unless I release him."

Radagast nodded distractedly.

"How—?" Glorfindel began but Radagast cut him off.

"There was more than just the usual poison that orcs use on their weapons. From the smell of the blood, I suspect not only dagnir-e-gaur" — Glorfindel nodded, being well aware of what poisons orcs preferred to use on their weapons — "but eredhras as well."

"Eredhras?"

Radagast nodded, carefully folding the linen around the metal splinter. "A fungus that attacks certain grains. Causes hallucinations and paranoia. A nasty combination meant to assure that the enemy died insane."

Glorfindel shivered at the thought. He stared down at the ground between his knees. Without looking up he began to speak in a low expressionless tone. "I’ve only felt that kind of fury twice in my life."

Radagast wisely remained silent, allowing the ellon to speak when he was ready.

"The first time," Glorfindel finally said, after several minutes of silence between them, "was at... at Alqualondë and Turgon forbade us from interfering. I almost hated my lord at that moment, but I hated Fëanor even more." He closed his eyes, resting his head against the bench for another minute or so of silence. Then, without opening his eyes he spoke again. "The second time was when we lost Elenwë in the Crossing. I don’t think I ever knew what hate really was until then. I think the fury that I felt for the Fëanorians at that moment was the only thing keeping me alive. It burned through my fëa like a torch, consuming me and warming me when everything else around me was a frozen hell. For the first time in my life I wanted to kill something, anything."

For another stretch of time neither spoke. Radagast stared out into the distance, but his thoughts were elsewhere and elsewhen and his eyes were full of sadness.

"I thought I was cured of such evil when I was reembodied," Glorfindel whispered, almost to himself, yet Radagast heard and gave a snort of disbelief.

"Had you remained in Aman, no doubt that would be true, but you chose to return to Middle-earth and with it the possibility of experiencing the marring all over again. Do not be too hard on yourself, son of Gondolin. You were not to know that Estel’s attack on Elrond was poison-induced. I doubt if the lad will even remember what he said in his delirium. And you probably saved his life, though I doubt that was your original intent when you stormed into the bower looking like the wrath of Mandos."

Glorfindel stood up and faced the still seated Wizard in surprise. "What do you mean I saved his life? I was ready to kill him, wanted to, in fact!"

Radagast gave another snort and stood up as well. "I very much doubt that, elfling. You’re too noble, for one, and you love the lad too much for another. No, you were angry but you are no Túrin."

Glorfindel flinched at that but did not contradict the Wizard.

Radagast glanced down at the piece of linen still in his hand. He took Glorfindel’s right hand and placed the cloth into it. "As for your saving Estel’s life," here the Wizard looked into the elf’s eyes, a glint of humor welling from deep within, which somehow comforted Glorfindel, though he could not say how. "Well, let’s just say that without you, er, shaking things up a bit, the stitches wouldn’t have burst and we wouldn’t have seen the corruption inside until it was too late. Though, mind you, I think the lad throwing up just before that helped."

Glorfindel glanced down at the piece of cloth now in his hands and shivered. Valar! It had been so close! He closed his eyes and clutched the cloth in his fist.

"All right, now, enough self-pity. Time to think of repairing some bridges."

Glorfindel opened his eyes and saw that Radagast was glaring at him in his typical fashion and the elf found himself grinning weakly. "Better. Now, go wake Elrond and show him that," he pointed to what Glorfindel held in his hand. "I suspect that will go a long way towards mending the shock."

For a moment Glorfindel just stared at the Wizard, his brown robe black with drying blood. "What about Estel?"

"Don’t worry about him. I’ll have some of my people clean him up, then you and Elrond can see him if you have a mind to, though he’ll be unconscious for some time yet. Now go."

And Glorfindel went.

****

"Elrond, wake up."

Out of the depths of a dreamless sleep Elrond heard Glorfindel’s voice but did not respond. There was an ache somewhere within him that he couldn’t quite identify and he somehow knew that if he woke up entirely he would have to face it. It was not the ache of emptiness where Celebrían had been. That was familiar, almost welcome, even comforting in an odd sort of way. No, this was a different ache, newer, rawer, and therefore not to be trusted.

"Elrond! Lasto na bith nîn, i vellon nîn. Echuio! Tolo ’ni galad."

It was a command he could not refuse, however much he wanted to, for the power behind the words was too insistent to ignore. Slowly, reluctantly, he opened his eyes to see that it was now nighttime and two candles lit the bower he shared with Glorfindel, casting a soft glow that reflected the starlight glinting through the branches above. Glorfindel, himself, was sitting on the edge of his cot, gently caressing his forehead. He was smiling.

"I see now that Elrohir comes by his reluctance to face the morning honestly. I was seriously considering dumping you out of your bed to get you to wake up."

"And I would have seriously considered consigning you to kitchen duty for the next millennium if you had."

Glorfindel chuckled and moved off the bed. "I have something to show you after you’ve washed the sleep from your eyes."

Elrond sat up, remembering now why he was there. Pain lanced through him, shattering against his fëa, splintering it into many slivers of being. He was not sure he really wanted to get up after all and contemplated retreating into sleep again. He suddenly felt Glorfindel’s hand on his shoulder and looked up to see tears in the other elf’s eyes.

"It’s all right, you know. But there’s a reason why Estel did what he did if you would hear it."

"Tell me."

"After you’ve washed up. I want you wide awake for this. I’ll make some tea in the meantime."

Ten minutes later they were seated at a table sipping tea. Glorfindel had also found some honey and walnut biscuits and had put some on a plate but neither felt the need for sustenance. On the table between them lay the piece of linen still folded up.

"What is that?" Elrond finally asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Open it up very carefully and do not touch what lies within."

Elrond raised an eyebrow at that but complied with Glorfindel’s instructions. In a few seconds he saw the sliver of metal lying within the folds of the cloth. He looked up at Glorfindel questioningly.

"We missed it. That was lodged inside Estel. Radagast thinks that it was smeared with a combination of werewolfsbane and hornseed."

Elrond gasped at the implications of what Glorfindel was telling him and felt the blood drain from his face. Glorfindel grabbed his hands, which he suddenly found were shaking. "Drink some tea. It’ll calm you."

Elrond nodded and complied and soon he could feel the calming effect of the tea taking hold of him and he felt his pulse quieting down. When he felt he had gotten himself under control again, he said, "I want to see him."

"Radagast said he would send someone to let us know when they’ve finished cleaning him up." Glorfindel hesitated for a moment before going on, his eyes on his teacup. "There was a great deal of blood loss, Elrond. It amazes me he even survived the trauma and he had that thing inside him for nearly five days!" He gestured with a nod of his head towards the sliver of metal, looking cold and deadly in the soft candlelight.

Elrond looked at the sliver and frowned. "How ever did you and Radagast find it?"

When Glorfindel did not respond immediately, he looked up to see his friend blushing furiously, his lips tightly pursed as if he struggled with some deep emotion. Elrond stood up and went to him, wrapping his arms about his head and shoulders and held him as great sobs wracked the elf’s body.

"What is it, mellon nîn? What is it you’re not telling me?" whispered Elrond.

In stuttering gasps Glorfindel confessed what he had done or had wanted to do, Elrond was never sure which it was. Most of Glorfindel’s words made little sense, for in his telling he often referred to people and events that Elrond knew lay in Glorfindel’s deep past and had little bearing on events in the present, but one thing he did know....

"Do not torture yourself this way," Elrond said as he brushed Glorfindel’s hair from his forehead. "You had no way of knowing and your anger was justified given the circumstances. You just said Radagast doubts Estel will even remember what happened."

"But we will," Glorfindel sniffed, wiping the tears from his eyes on the sleeve of his tunic.

"Yes, we will," Elrond sighed, releasing Glorfindel from his embrace, "and we must deal with it as best we may."

Elrond was about to sit down again when there was a soft knock at the entrance of the bower. "Come in," he called. The curtain was pushed aside and a middle-aged Woman peeked in.

"Forgive the intrusion, lords, but Radagast says as how you may visit the lad now if’n you wish."

"Thank you, Marfa," Elrond said, "tell Radagast we will be there shortly."

Marfa nodded and left. Elrond looked down at Glorfindel, still looking despondent but calm. "Shall we go?"

Glorfindel nodded and stood up. Moments later they were entering Estel’s bower. Radagast was there, now changed into a fresh robe, sitting beside the bed apparently in deep contemplation, for he did not stir at the entrance of the elves. Elrond moved towards the bed and looked down upon the sleeping form of his foster son. Estel was deathly white, but his breathing was slow and regular, indicating deep sleep rather than unconsciousness.

"He came to for a moment," Radagast said softly, looking up at Elrond. "I gave him something for the pain along with a sleeping draught. He won’t awaken until sometime tomorrow morning."

Elrond nodded, gazing at Estel sleeping. "He thought I wanted him dead," he said quietly, almost to himself.

"That was the poison speaking, Elrond," Radagast responded somewhat sharply. "The boy adores you, anyone can see that. Do not let words spoken in the midst of delirium trouble you overly much. I doubt if Estel will even remember what he said to you."

"But I won’t."

"Perhaps, but only if you choose to. I do not say that trust has not been broken, but ‘broken’ is not the same as ‘severed’." Radagast gazed at the elf-lord with great intensity for a moment and Elrond found he had to look away. "Do you love him?"

Elrond looked back at the Wizard in surprise. "What?"

"A simple enough question, even for you, elfling," Radagast said with a quirk of a smile. "Do you love him?"

"Yes, of course I do, but —"

Radagast shook his head. "There is no ‘of course’ about it, or a ‘but’. You either do, or you do not. It’s really that simple, Elrond, and if you love him, what else matters, heh?" Radagast stood up with a grunt of fatigue. "I will leave you with him. There is some food and drink on the table if you so desire, for I do not think either of you have eaten much this day. Goodnight to you both." With that he gave them a short bow and left.

Glorfindel moved to where Radagast had been and sat down even as Elrond sat on the other stool. For several moments neither spoke, each looking upon the young Man sleeping.

"He’s right, you know," Glorfindel said finally. "We either love him or we don’t." He leaned over and adjusted the blanket and smoothed the hair from Estel’s forehead.

Elrond, however, did not answer but continued gazing upon his foster son, deep in thought.

****

During the night it snowed — though only a dusting — yet it was enough to remind them all that winter would soon be upon them. It was now the sixteenth of Hithui and in seven days the season the elves called Rhîw would begin. Soon it would be time for the Midwinter festivities, though neither Glorfindel nor Elrond was thinking that far ahead. Instead they spent the night beside Estel’s bed, watching over him. Once, near midnight, Estel began moaning in pain and Elrond gave him something for it so that he fell back to sleep without completely waking, but other than that the night passed without incident. While Elrond was tending to Estel, Glorfindel stepped outside the bower for a few moments and when he returned he was carrying his harp. He tuned it to "Starlight on Snow", which gave the harp a gentle, wistful tone and began to play. The music seemed to soothe the young Man and even Elrond began to relax some, the tension in his shoulders easing.

It was dawn before Glorfindel stopped playing, laying the harp aside only when Radagast came in to check on his patient. Both Elrond and Glorfindel took the opportunity at that time to attend to their own needs, changing into fresh clothing and breaking their fast with a light meal of fruit, cheese and bread before returning to Estel’s bower.

"He seems to be holding his own," Radagast commented as the two elves came inside. "Did he awaken at all?"

Elrond shook his head. "He was feeling pain around midnight and I gave him something for it, but he never fully came to. I do not think he will awaken for some time yet."

Radagast nodded, seemingly only half-listening. "No doubt. We will just have to wait and see. In the meantime, try to get some broth down him if you can."

Elrond smiled thinly. "This is not the first time I’ve had someone unconscious under my care, Radagast."

"Hmm? Oh, yes, of course. By the way, if you want to send a message to Thranduil telling him you will be delayed I can have one sent this afternoon."

"Thank you, but it won’t be necessary. I informed Thranduil in my last missive that we would arrive sometime before Yule, but I gave no specific date. He will expect us when he sees us."

Radagast quirked an eyebrow at that and smiled wryly. "Knowing Thranduil, that probably did not sit well with him. He does like to have everything planned to a nicety. Having someone just drop in whenever they get around to it is not his idea of being neighborly."

Elrond smiled back. "That’s because he’s used to dealing with mortals and dwarves and does not care to have them wandering through his forest unless he’s been given plenty of warning."

Radagast nodded. "Yes, that’s Thranduil for you. Well, anyway, I have things to do. I’m sure if anything comes up you can handle it between you."

"How long do you think it’ll be before we can move on?" Glorfindel asked Radagast, but it was Elrond who answered.

"At least two weeks and probably closer to three."

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow at that but Radagast nodded in agreement. "Sounds about right. I might even say an entire month will pass before you’re ready to move on. Well, in the meantime, the lad’s going to need much care. You both up to it?"

Radagast gave them both a shrewd look. Glorfindel found he could not look at the Wizard but Elrond answered for them both. "Yes. We’re up to it, Radagast. He is after all my son."

Glorfindel glanced up at Elrond, feeling much relieved. Radagast nodded without speaking and left.

Estel woke briefly later that afternoon when Elrond and Glorfindel were attempting to get some broth down him. He smiled when he saw his adar but otherwise said nothing, slipping into sleep once again after only a couple of sips of broth, but it was enough to hearten the two elves. When he woke again it was dark. He tried to sit up but found he was too weak to do more than raise his head slightly. It was enough, though, to alert Elrond and Glorfindel and they were by his side immediately.

"Adar," Estel croaked as he struggled to sit up. "What happened? Why do I feel so weak?"

"What do you remember?"

Estel had to think about it and his words were slow in coming. "I... remember birds singing... and then... I was shouting something, but I don’t remember what." He closed his eyes, feeling drained.

Elrond and Glorfindel shared a look between them and then Elrond spoke. "The knife that wounded you was poisoned, iôn nîn, and you became delirious. Radagast found a sliver of the blade still inside of you. I’m afraid you lost much blood and you will be some time recovering."

Estel nodded, sighing in resignation, then a thought came to him and he opened his eyes again and looked up at Glorfindel. "You called me a son of a balrog."

Glorfindel felt himself turning red in embarrassment. "I’m afraid I was overwrought. I am sorry, Estel."

Estel continued staring at the elf for a few moments before speaking again. "I must have really done something stupid for you to call me that. The last time you called anyone that was when my brothers disobeyed your direct orders and nearly got me killed on our last patrol together."

Before Glorfindel could respond, however, Estel slipped back into sleep. Elrond quirked an eyebrow at his friend, even as he readjusted Estel’s blankets. "And when were you going to tell me about this, mellon nîn?"

Glorfindel sighed. It was going to be a long month.

****

It was nearly another week before Estel recovered sufficiently enough to remain conscious for more than a few minutes at a time. For most of that week he was kept in healing sleep, roused every hour to sip some broth and to attend to personal needs before being sent back to sleep. By the first day of Rhîw Estel had regained enough strength to be able to sit up in bed and eat soft foods, though he did not eat much at any meal and tired easily. Hithui was waning before he was allowed to stand up and use the privy rather than the chamber pot, though both Elrond and Glorfindel had to hold him up. Once Estel was well on the road to recovery, the two elves took turns tending to him and even Radagast occasionally sat by his bed and told him stories of the forest denizens and the Men who lived near-by.

By common consent, neither the elves nor the Wizard spoke of what had happened. Elrond declared that when he deemed the time to be right, he would speak with his foster son about it. Glorfindel looked unsure but Radagast merely nodded. "A wise move. Estel was on the brink of insanity at the time. I would not hold too much credence in what he said."

"And yet, what he said..." Elrond started, then stopped to take a deep breath, letting go of the pain he still felt at the words his foster son had spoken. "What was said cannot be entirely forgotten, and surely deep within him he must wonder."

"Perhaps," conceded Radagast. "Tread carefully Eärendilion. Things are not always as they seem." And they spoke of it between them no more.

During the time that Estel was recuperating it snowed some more, the woodlands and the fields blanketed in a glory of white. Braziers were lit within the bower to ward off the worst of the cold but in spite of the fact that the bower was constructed mainly of living trees it remained surprisingly warm within even without them. Girithron was well underway before Elrond allowed Estel to leave the bower for any length of time, carefully bundled up against the cold. At first, Estel merely sat for a few minutes on the bench by the door, watching with interest the woodsmen’s children building snowforts and engaging in mock battles between the older children and the younger, laughing at their antics. Before another week was out, however, he was helping the younger children plan strategy, much to the amusement of the elves and the bemusement of the children’s parents. Radagast merely hrumphed, shaking his head as he went about his own business, but Glorfindel caught him one day teaching the youngest child, a lad not quite three summers old, how to make snowballs.

One bright morning when the snow sparkled in the sun and the sky was a cloudless icy blue, they had a surprise visitor. Estel was sitting alone in his bower finishing the draught that Elrond insisted he drink every morning and evening to ward off infection and to keep his system in balance during the long convalescence, when Marfa came to the door with a look of awe upon her countenance.

"Lord Estel," she said with a curtsey. "There be someone here to see you if you would be pleased to come out to greet him."

"Who is it, Mistress?" Estel asked politely, wondering why the visitor didn’t just come in.

Marfa’s eyes widened even more. "It’s best you be comin’ out to the yard, my lord." And with that she gave Estel another brief curtsey before leaving.

Intrigued, Estel rose carefully and gathered his cloak about him before following the Woman. Outside, the brightness of the morning blinded him and he had to blink several times before his eyes adjusted to the glare. When he could see properly he saw his adar, Glorfindel and Radagast speaking to the largest eagle he had ever seen. He felt his jaw drop in astonishment. The Eagle was perched on a large rock that stood just before the forest eaves. His feathers were golden-brown shading to black-brown. Golden eyes, keen with grave intelligence, stared at him with interest as Estel approached. The elves and the Wizard made way for him, their expressions unreadable. For a long moment mortal and Eagle merely stared at each other, then, belatedly, Estel remembered to bow, though his wound, while healing, did not allow him to bow very deeply.

"Welcome, my lord Eagle. I am honored by your presence."

For a moment the Eagle did not speak, merely gazing intensely upon the mortal before him. "I greet you Isildur’s Heir. I am Thorongil, kin to Gwaihir, Lord of Eagles. I came to see how you fared, for it was I who brought you hence from the scene of battle."

Estel bowed again. "As you can see, my Lord Thorongil, I am well on the road to recovery. I thank you for agreeing to bring me to Rhosgobel. Had you not, I fear I would not have survived my wounds."

"It is well, then," Thorongil said, dipping his head slightly in dismissal, then he looked at Elrond. "I bear a message for you, Lord Elrond, from Gwaihir."

Elrond started, his expression one of surprise. "Pray tell me what word the Lord of Eagles sends by you."

Thorongil shifted his stance on the rock slightly and lowered his head. "The Lord of Eagles bids you to take better care of this one," cocking his head towards Estel, a glint of amusement in his eye. "He is indeed the Hope of this Age, but he is not the Hope Unlooked-for. That honor is for another. Yet that Hope will never come if this one dies before his time."

With that, the Eagle spread his wings and leapt from the rock, winging his way upward and westward towards the aeries of the Misty Mountains, leaving all feeling bemused. It was only when Elrond noticed Estel shivering that he bade his foster son to return to the bower. Glorfindel made to follow but a slight shake of Elrond’s head showed him that Elrond wished to be alone with Estel.

Once inside, Elrond heated some water for tea before sitting down with Estel who was still shivering, but not, he suspected, from the cold. Estel had not even bothered to remove his cloak and indeed had covered himself with a blanket as well. With some concern Elrond noticed that the color had drained from Estel’s face. "Are you well, iôn nîn?" he asked, feeling Estel’s forehead, which felt clammy, though there was no sign of fever.

Estel glanced at his adar, looking puzzled. "Wh-what did Th-thorongil mean, Adar," he asked, shivering all the while, "about m-my not being the Hope Unlooked-for?"

Elrond shook his head and sighed, rubbing Estel’s arms, trying to warm him. "I do not know, iôn nîn. I named you Estel when you were newly come to Imladris for you are indeed the Hope for your people. I have forseen that Sauron will rise again in your lifetime and it will be for you to defeat him if you will win both crown and queen, though how that might come about, I do not know."

When the water came to a boil Elrond stopped his ministrations and busied himself with making the tea. Soon the two of them were sipping the hot drink and Elrond was pleased to see that Estel had finally stopped shivering and color had returned to his cheeks. Yet, his countenance was still troubled.

"Tell me what you are thinking, Estel," Elrond said gently.

"None of you speak of what happened when I... when I became sick. Glorfindel rarely swears but when he does it’s for a good reason."

"Like when your brothers nearly got you killed during your last patrol together?"

Estel looked up in surprise. "How did you know? We all swore not to tell you."

Now it was Elrond’s turn to look surprised. This was a part of the tale Glorfindel had neglected to tell him while they stood watch over Estel. "Indeed."

Estel blushed in embarrassment. "I guess I said something in my... my delirium, didn’t I?"

Elrond smiled. "You might say that."

Estel sighed, then poured himself some more tea while thinking of what to say next. By now he was feeling warm enough to remove both blanket and cloak, which he did, standing up to lay them on the bed before returning to his seat. "So, do you want to tell me what happened to me?" he finally asked as he picked up his cup and took a sip.

"Do you think you’re ready to hear what I have to say?"

Estel shrugged. "Won’t know that until I’ve heard it, will I?"

Elrond nodded. "Very well. I will tell you...."

****

"Easy now."

That was his adar, though the hand smoothing his forehead was Glorfindel’s. He could hear the golden-haired elf crooning a healing song, but could not place it.

"Drink this, iôn nîn."

A cup was pressed against his lips and reflexively he drank. It was watered wine and he gasped as the liquid slid down his throat, burning as it went and sending him into a coughing fit. When he had himself under control again another cup was placed at his mouth but this was only water and he drank it eagerly, the cool liquid soothing his raw throat.

He wondered if he was blind for he could not see anything and then belatedly realized he had his eyes closed. Slowly he opened them as if afraid of what he might find, but all he saw was his adar sitting before him, a look of concern in his eyes, while he could feel Glorfindel standing behind him, stroking his forehead and singing softly. Radagast sat nearby, his expression unfathomable.

Memory of the last few moments slowly returned and he felt his mind trying to shut down at the horror of what he saw there. He couldn’t possibly have said that to his adar, could he? But apparently he had. Shame flooded him, and something akin to despair. Elrond noticed and sighed, stealing a glance towards Radagast, who grimaced.

"All right, youngling, none of that," the Wizard said, his voice sharp and commanding. "No one here is holding you to blame for what was said in your delirium...but we are curious as to why you said it."

Estel stared at Radagast in shock at the Wizard’s temerity and saw that Elrond was also looking nonplused. Glorfindel had stopped singing and was no longer gently rubbing his forehead, so Estel lifted his head up to see behind him and saw the elf just standing there staring at Radagast in open astonishment. The sight forced a reluctant hiccup of a chuckle out of him and then he was openly laughing, which brought the elves’ attention back to him.

"Sorry, Adar," Estel choked out between spurts of laughter, "but you and Glorfindel looked so funny just now."

Radagast, Elrond noticed, now had a smug smirk on his face and realized what the Wizard had done and found himself smiling in spite of himself. Glorfindel rolled his eyes in exasperation but went back to rubbing Estel’s forehead and singing softly.

"Yes, well, I imagine we did," Elrond said in agreement. "But the question does remain...."

Estel nodded and reached for more water. After a couple of sips he began to speak, but refused to look anyone in the eye. "I think with everything that’s happened to me lately... I was beginning to feel... and then when I came back to Imladris this summer to find Arwen gone—"

Elrond leaned over and gently caressed Estel on his cheek, forcing the young Man to look up. What he saw in his adar’s eyes was enough to nearly unman him and he felt tears beginning to well. "No, hên nîn, the one has nothing to do with the other. I did not send Arwen away. Her daernaneth sent for her and she went, though she had hoped to see you before she did, but you were... delayed, as I understand it" — he looked up briefly at Glorfindel, not quite ready to forgive his friend for not telling him about Estel’s brush with death while on patrol — "and she could not delay her own journey any longer than she did." Elrond straightened with a sigh. "As for what has happened since," here he could not help smiling, "remind me to tell you what happened to your brothers when they went overmountain the first time alone, and they were well over eighty."

Glorfindel tried to smother a laugh at the memory Elrond’s words had evoked, but failed miserably. Estel looked back at the elf in surprise. "That bad, huh?"

"Oh, Estel, you have no idea, and if your brothers ever found out we told you, they’d never forgive either of us."

Estel found himself smiling and there was the glint of mischief in his eyes. "I won’t tell if you don’t."

The two elves exchanged brief glances before Elrond began speaking. "Well, it all started when Elrohir decided that he and Elladan were old enough to cross the Misty Mountains on their own. They wanted to ‘surprise’ their daernaneth and daeradar with a visit...."

As the elf-lord continued to regale his youngest son with the foibles of his older brothers, with Glorfindel laughingly adding his own commentary to the tale now and then, none of them noticed Radagast leaving, a smile of satisfaction on his face.

****

Dagnir-e-gaur: Werewolfsbane. Monkshood (Aconitum napellus), also called (in our world) "wolfsbane"; considered one of the most poisonous plants known.

Eredhras: Hornseed; ergot (Clavicepts purpurea) — a fungus that replaces the seeds of the rye plant (Secale cornatum) among other kinds of grains. It has a nauseous odor and is the source of the hallucigen LSD.

Lasto na bith nîn, i vellon nîn. Echuio! Tolo ’ni galad: 'Listen to my words, my friend. Awake! Come towards the light'.

Rhîw: Winter. In the reckoning of the calendar in Imladris, rhîw or hrivë lasted seventy-two days, ending on 3 Nínui, followed by echuir or coirë (Stirring). Unlike the calendar used by hobbits and Men, the elven New Year began on 28 Gwaeron.

Girithron: December.

Hên nîn: My child.

Daernaneth: Grandmother.

Daeradar: Grandfather.