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Life in Imladris was a lot better than Lindir could have ever expected. The people were pleasant, the food excellent and the routine comforting. He especially loved the mixture of different cultures and how no one really stood out as from the rest.
Granted, it was very different from what he had experienced before, his previous life had been filled constant travel with a nomadic group of elves and he had gotten used to a fast paced life without many secret corners to withdraw into, read and draw or compose in.
He had always been a quiet elf, and had come to enjoy the life he had built for himself in Imladris. About 300 years ago when his travel group had decided to spend the winter in the hidden valley. A particularly violent snowstorm had blocked the road they wanted to travel, and he enjoyed the longer stay so much that he decided to stay for good.
The lord himself had invited him to live in the city after realising that the young elf had spent most of the winter with his nose burried in a book, devouring any and every book he could find.
Lindir smiled and breathed in deeply. It was late winter with spring soon on the horizon. The air, although cold very refreshing.
Although he had not made many friends in his time in Imladris, he had gotten to know Erestor quite well. The advisor had recognised his talent for quick and neat writing, which quickly lead to him getting a position in Imladris as a scribe and assistant to the chief councilor and the esteemed lord of Imladris himself.
One of Lindir's favourite past times was sitting in the Hall of Fire and listening to the stories the guests of Imladris had to tell. He liked to write the tales he heard into different songs that he practiced on his own, he rarely if ever played his compositions in front of others, he never felt like they were really worthy of their attention. Or like he was worthy of their attention.
The Hall of Fire was getting fuller this time of year, more guests arrived in order to take part in their late winter festivities. It was a celebration of love, called Auromel, where traditionally, pining elves would confess their feelings and would hopefully find them returned.
Lindir loved and hated this time of year, he loved the singing and laughter sounding merrily throughout the entire valley and he hated how much it took out of his (beloved) lord and hated even more how all he wanted is being held in his lord’s strong arms, exchanging soft kisses and whispering quiet words of adoration into each other’s ears.
Lord Elrond… Lindir sighed, “Remember yourself Lindir”, he admonished himself, “you are but a servant and even if he by nothing short of a miracle, granted by the Valar himself had feelings towards you, it could never be. It would go against all traditions. “
He shook his head as if that simple movement could dispel all these unwanted thoughts from his mind. His good mood was gone.
The half-elf was someone that Lindir admired a lot, his sense of duty and devotion to the health and happiness of his people was unparalleled to anyone Lindir had met before. He was extremely intelligent and on days where he was relaxed and in a good mood, showed his wicked sense of humour. Those days were Lindir’s favourite.
He decided then to bring his lord some refreshments before offering up his help. The lord always took on too much work for himself so everyone else could spend time with their loved ones and with his wife in Valinor, Arwen in Lothlorien and his sons hunting Orcs, Valar know where, there were not many left that were close to him. Lindir always thought that this time of year, he must feel especially lonely and unloved
Lindir scoffed at the thought that no one was here to love the lord. “I am here, aren’t I?” he thought as he headed to the kitchens to have some tea prepared.
Elrond massaged his aching temples as he read over the organisation scheme again. The normal organisation for the festivities were difficult enough to manage with all the different arrival times of guests, length of stays and number of guests as well as entourages, making sure they can all be fed and have a place to stay for the nights without too much conflict arising between different parties. Some Noldor and Sindar could still not be left in a room alone without the threat of a new kin slaying looming over everyone’s head.
If all of that was not complicated enough, there was the matter of decoration, entertainment, and food. Which apparently all needed his approval or direct input. The organisation of work schedules was a nightmare as well, most of course asked to be permitted not to work during the festivities and that had to be decided fairly as well. Many disputes were created over this and more often than not, Elrond was asked to settle them.
He pushed aside the stack of papers that consisted of the normal everyday sort of paperwork: political correspondences, trading agreements, more dispute settlements and other requests that would have to wait until more urgent matters were delt with.
This year, to make matters even more complicated the elven holiday of Auromel had fallen on the same day as the steward of Gondor’s begetting day. The steward himself was a reasonable man that Elrond found quite pleasant. He asked for council without shame and seemed to want to do right by the people of Gondor without expecting too much praise or glory.
His son Cahrdin however… his son was an arrogant, foolish young boy, barely past his majority. He had decided that this week was the perfect week to try his hand at diplomatic negotiations with Imladris and then afterwards celebrate together with the Elves, so the ‘Glory of Gondor could be properly appreciated’, as the Cahrdin had announced.
It was important to remain on good terms with Gondor, so, as much as he disliked it, he had to agree to Cahrdin’s plans. Cahrdin had invited his own troupe of musicians as ‘compensation’ and guaranteed that they knew the traditional elven songs as well as the Gondorian ones. Many of Imladris’ own minstrels were notorious for enjoying wine a little too much and as soon as they heard that they would not have to spend the entire night holding their instruments, they were suddenly happy that the Gondorians had invited themselves to the celebration.
Elrond was just glad that one inevitable conflict had been avoided so far.
The door to Lord Elrond’s study was usually open, or slightly ajar, welcoming in anyone who feels the need to talk to their lord and Lindir silently thanked his lord for this policy as he pushed open the door with his foot while holding the tray of tea and biscuits in both of his hands.
His lord seemed to be absorbed in the contents of the letter he was reading, not noticing Lindir until he stood a few steps away from the desk he was working at. When he did notice, Lindir heard a sharp inhale and grey eyes met his. Valar, Elrond looked tired.
Smiling brightly Lindir stepped closer and lifted his hands slightly to draw attention to the tray he was holding.
“Good afternoon, my lord! I brought you some refreshments, the tea is warm, and the biscuits are freshly baked.”
“Lindir”, Elrond acknowledged him with a small smile and slight bow of the head, “just set the tray down anywhere you find space, please”.
“Of course, my lord”, Lindir said and went over to a smaller desk next to the wall. It too was covered with correspondences, but he managed to find an empty corner. Turning back to his lord, he saw that he had gone back to reading his letter. His heart sank in his chest- he had hoped to encourage his lord to at least take a small break, but the lord did not seem very interested in the tea that Lindir had brought.
Lindir clenched his fists and swallowed down the anxious lump in his throat, “Apologies, my lord Elrond but,” he teetered off, unsure of himself. What was he thinking, it was not his place to disapprove of his lord’s actions.
Elrond looked up at him quizzically. “But what, Lindir?”
“I-I just… I just wanted to ask if I could assist with your work, my lord. I have finished my other duties a-and wanted to see if you needed help or well, an extra pair of hands?” Lindir managed to stutter out. Internally scolding himself for the slip up. What was up with him today?
Elrond hummed thoughtfully and looked back at the mess of papers that was cluttering his desk. “Let me see”, he said as he began sorting through the papers. “I remember you having an avid interest in music, we have to coordinate the different minstrels and which songs should be played at what time. Could I leave that in your hands?”
“Of course, my lord”, Lindir nodded enthusiastically, “I will leave to discuss with them straight away.”
“Here, you will need these, the general schedule for the evening, set lists and these”, Elrond pointed to a list of songs, “these will have to be played, the arrangements should be in that stack as well.” He gave Lindir a small, tired smile but Lindir counted it as a win, at least he could help ease his lord’s burden just a little.
Glancing at Lindir as he left, Elrond got up from behind his desk to get himself a cup of tea. Maybe it would help him concentrate and parch his dry throat a little. He knew he needed a break but there was just not enough time. He didn’t spare the biscuits a glance, he felt rather nauseous and did not want to risk upsetting his stomach even more.
The week passed like that, quietly and quickly. Lindir finished his usual work and then went to visit his lord to help with the workload and Elrond came to quickly appreciate how the usually quiet and shy elf started to liven up. After finishing the discussions concerning music, Lindir helped sort out accommodation plans and didn’t shy away from even the most basic of tasks.
When he had first met the young Ellon, that first winter he had instantly felt drawn to him. He was studious and quiet and yet had this innocent joy about him. It was as if nothing he encountered could even as much as dampen that joy. Maybe it was pure selfishness that made him ask if Lindir wanted to stay. It had been a long time since he was able to appreciate simple pleasures and beauties of life.
Ever since his wife Celebrian had sailed it was as if he was a mere shadow of himself, going about daily task just out of pure habit.
But Lindir, seeing him, speaking with him about even the most mundane things warmed his heart, he felt a strong pull towards the young elf. Feelings that he had long since thought himself incapable of reappeared.
But why did it have to be Lindir. Elrond was at least 3 times his senior and Lindir was incredibly beautiful. His warm eyes were so kind and his features so delicate. His long brown hair was usually half pulled back into a simple hairstyle, the rest gently cascaded down his back. It looked so soft to the touch, like liquid silk.
Elrond scoffed, ‘get a hold of yourself. He is not right for you; you would ruin him.’
Not like Lindir would be interested in an old, tired half-elf like him. Besides, even if he did say anything to the young elf, he would surely distance himself again. Lindir was shy and it took a lot of encouragement on Elrond’s side to help Lindir to leave his shell even a little. Lindir was not the type of elf to take to sudden confessions easily.
Glancing out of the window from his desk, he realised it was getting late, the dinner would soon be served in the main hall. He decided to take a break then. The list with things that were still to be completed was getting shorter than the list of things that were finished and especially with Lindir’s help there was no danger of not completing it on time.
He quickly made his way to the main hall and judging from the sound alone, it was quite busy. While the food was generally served at a certain time, there was no obligation for anyone to arrive at specifically that time. Elrond didn’t appreciate it when his staff waited to serve just because he or other members of the council had not arrived yet, so he was not surprised that the meal was in full progress when he stepped through the large doors to the hall.
The chair, that was reserved for him, was empty. The right one next to his however, he noted with disdain was occupied by Cahrdin. Sighing quietly, he put on a pleasant expression and took a seat. Elrond was not in the mood to hear another lecture about Gondor’s greatness and how Cahrdin was going to improve on it when he became steward himself. One could only hope that this boy would grow into a more responsible adult until that point came or the future of Gondor, and Elrond’s sanity, would be at serious risk.
Pushing the annoyance he felt away, he took stock of his surroundings and started serving himself. This part of the table was usually reserved for his family, friends, and esteemed guests but with none of his family currently present, Erestor and Glorfindel were seated in the places directly at his left, bickering as always and poor Lindir had apparently gotten the seat next to Cahrdin.
The young ellon looked at him with relief in his eyes as Cahrdin deemed Elrond a more interesting conversation partner and Elrond had to supress a grin, quickly covering his mouth with a hand. This man was just very special. He would have to ask Lindir later what he thought of Gondor’s future.
As expected, the conversation quicky turned from common pleasantries to Gondorian politics. Elrond was not truly listening, more focused on the food than on the things the man was spouting on about.
“Oh, and I saw your little pet running around earlier talking to my friends, it must be so difficult to think of more and more worthless tasks for him to do just to keep him occupied”, Cahrdin looked at him and laughed, seemingly not understanding his confusion at all.
Lindir’s focus was turned to the conversation the human was having with his lord as soon as the ‘friends’ were mentioned. Lindir had a difficult day trying to explain elven etiquette to the humans, who were if he didn’t know any better, breaking every single rule on purpose. And they just would not let themselves be corrected. It had been an incredibly stressful experience.
Cahrdin continued, smirking as he noticed Lindir’s eyes on him: “My lord, the poor elf is so easily bothered by the smallest of things, wouldn’t you say? I think it would be better for him to just remain in a safe little corner of the library. Maybe with a little blanket to hide under? He must so useless.”
Lindir stared at the human incredulously. He could not be serious. He looked over at his lord and saw…amusement? The half-elf had his hand lifted so it would cover his mouth, however his eyes betrayed his mirth. He looked at him then and Lindir felt his heart sink in his chest. Why would his lord find this amusing? He felt sick to his stomach, of course he had not been enough to be worthy of his lord.
He got up quickly, bumping against the table in his haste, so some of the wine in the goblets splashed over the rim onto the table.
“Hey be careful! This fabric is not cheap!”, the human yelled at him.
“I apologise lord Cahrdin, my l- lord Elrond. I remembered I had some work left to do. Please excuse my rudeness.” Then he turned and left the hall in a hurry, without waiting for permission to leave. His eyes were burning, and a lump was forming in his throat, he bit his lip and clenched his hands into fists. He just had to get away from there, had couldn’t stand the way his lord looked at him.
He weaved through the different groups of elves gathering in the hallways and servants flitting through the halls, carrying various thing needed for the feast. He got to his quarters and slammed his door closed, leaning against it, barely choking back a sob. Pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes, he threw himself on his bed.
He had thought he was being helpful, that he was making his lord’s life easier. He knew he was not good at many things and apparently his efforts were not helping his lord at all, he was only amusing him and at one point his lord would surely get tired of him. And what would Lindir do then? He cherished his life in Imladris and if his lord would get tired of him then… then he would no longer be his assistant and then, and then…
Then h would have to go back to travelling on the road, back to days of constant chatter with his only task being to cook dinner in the evening and sing one of the old songs every now and then.
His thoughts were racing in a panic, he did not want to leave, no one could make him! And he loved his lord, loved him so much the thought of not being able to spend time with him made his heart ache. He curled up into a ball on his bed, clutching a pillow so tightly to his body that his knuckles were turning white. His rabid, shallow breathing gave away to sobs and he hid his tear streaked face in the pillow.
He didn’t know how much time had passed as he sat there sobbing but when he looked back up, he realised the evening had long since turned into night.
He would do his duties quietly and quickly tomorrow, he decided, hopefully without being noticed. Maybe that way his lord would not tire of him so quickly. Lindir just had to make note of what he did wrong and fix it. Then he would surely be allowed to stay.
Having made up his mind, he got ready for bed and spend the rest of the night staring at his ceiling. He wouldn’t not be able to find any sleep tonight.
Lindir tried his best in the next two days to be as unobtrusive as possible, to just blend in with the shadows and care for his lord’s needs as best he could. He paid attention to every little sigh and smile, making note of what was appreciated and what wasn’t. He quickly grew frustrated however, he could see Elrond becoming more and more tired.
The half-elf was working into the late hours of the night and Lindir knew that if he said something, it would not be appreciated and knew that harsh remarks would follow any comment Lindir would make about getting enough rest. Swallowing down his worry, he headed to the main hall for lunch and then planned to go to the library to do some research that Erestor had requested of him.
Elrond was not present for the noon meal, nor for the evening meal and Lindir was conflicted, he wanted to make sure that he was alright, see if he needed anything and yet on the other hand could he risk putting his lord in a worse mood than he was already bound to be in?
The thought of angering his lord made his stomach clench but worry was tying a knot in his already abused stomach.
Maybe he would just walk past Elrond’s study on the way to his quarters and then, if lights shone through the door, risk a glance? His mind made up, he decided finished his research in the library and then choose a book to take with him for some reading before bed.
Most candles in Elrond’s office had burned out with the exception of two, one of them on his desk, threatening to drip hot wax on the papers scattered around.
Now that the festivities were about to begin, he could finally focus on the stack of his usual work that had started to build up. There would not be much time after the feast tomorrow so it was best to finish as much as he could this night. He shook his head in order to dispel some of the tiredness but quickly realised that was a big mistake. The world started swimming in front of his eyes and darkness started creeping in from the corners of his vision.
He was so tired.
He had not been sleeping well, he found it difficult to fall asleep and even when he did, his dreams were dark and restless.
Maybe a short nap would be good, he thought. Just a short one. The settee on the other side of the room would do nicely. But he felt heavy, he tried standing up using his arms to push himself away from the desk. They were shaking badly. Maybe walking across the room was not such good idea after all. He sat back down into his chair; the world was getting even darker now.
His head was getting too heavy for him to keep it upright anymore. He stopped resisting the pull towards the desk’s surface. A short rest would help him recover.
The hallways were dark when Lindir finally left the library. He had gotten lost in a passage detailing the history of Lothlorien and what might have actually happened to the Lady Nimrodel.
As previously decided, he walked past Elrond’s study and saw dim light shining through under the door. Anger be damned, he swallowed down the anxious lump in his throat and gently pressed down on the door handle, trying his best to open it as quietly as possible.
Anxiousness quickly turned back into worry when he saw his lord slumped at his desk, head laying on desk itself, uncaring of the creases that were forming on the parchments.
“My lord?”, Lindir called out softly, unsure of what to do. He must have exhausted himself and of course had not asked for Lindir’s assistance. Probably because he does not trust you to do a good enough job, Lindir thought to himself grimly.
His first hesitant call had not been enough to rouse his lord, so, stepping closer he called again:
“My lord? Night has fallen, would you not be more comfortable resting in your bed?”
Lord Elrond seemed to be unbothered by his calls, so Lindir stepped closer to shake him awake. The desk was not a suitable place to rest.
Strands of dark hair had fallen across his face so without thinking, Lindir went to brush them out of the way. Elrond felt warm, much too warm compared to a normal elven body temperature.
Frowning, Lindir quickly moved to feel his lord’s forehead and then his own. It was much warmer than his own but maybe that was the normal for a half-elf? But no, his skin was clammy, and as he looked closer, Lindir could see beads of sweat gathering on his lord’s hairline.
“My lord!” Lindir cried, “My lord, please you must wake up!”
He grabbed the half-elf’s shoulder and shook, trying to wake his lord from his stupor.
“Hmng?”
“My lord! Thank the Valar you are awake, I got so worried, I feared someone had hurt you or poisoned you or, or…” Lindir rambled, still tightly grasping his lord’s shoulder.
Grey eyes were staring hazily up at him, seemingly not understanding Lindir’s distress.
Elrond’s brows were furrowed as he tried to sit himself up. Another wave of dizziness and nausea overcame him, and he bowed his head back down, leaning his forehead against the cool surface of the desk. He stayed there for a while, losing track of time.
Then, Lindir was hovering around him again, his words blending together in one blur, buzzing around his skull without making much sense. Hands were guiding him to sit upright, which made his stomach lurch. Panickily he tried finding his bin, when someone pressed it into his hand, softly stroking his back as he was emptying his stomach contents into the bin.
After he finished, the same hands pulled him along and guided him to his feet. Hands were at his elbows supporting him as they walked him along the hallway. The last thing he knew before darkness took him was a soft surface under his back and a warm blanket drawn over him.
Lindir was anxiously pacing as the healer he had called earlier examined Elrond. How had he not noticed what was happening sooner? Someone must have slipped something in his lord’s food or maybe his drink was laced with something?
When the healer was done, he helped tuck his lord into bed.
“Is there a cure? He won’t die will he?”, he asked the healer anxiously. The healer let out a small laugh.
“A cure? Lindir, Lord Elrond is simply exhausted and has contracted an illness, it happens sometimes when he is not at his full strength. Not to worry, food and rest should be enough for him to recover. Someone will have to watch him however, until the fever goes down, it still is dangerously high at the moment.”
“I can do that, just tell me how to take care of him and I will!”, Lindir said eagerly. He couldn’t stand seeing that pained frown on his beloved lord’s face.
The healer gave him clear instructions and a tea that would help against the nausea and lower the fever. Before leaving, he turned and said: “And Lindir, please don’t hesitate to call me again should his condition worsen, or he be stubborn about resting. I will come back tomorrow as well to make sure he is healing”
Lindir nodded and went pull up a chair beside Elrond’s bedside. He still had the book he brought with him from the library, so he opened it and started reading.
He could not concentrate on the words on the page. He was angry. Angry with himself for not noticing, angry with others for pushing so much workload onto their lord and most of all angry with Elrond for not taking better care of himself.
Most likely the lord had just taken on all that work to ‘make other’s lives easier’. Lindir hated how worried he was. Clenching the book tightly in his hands he decided to set it down ere he’d damage it.
Looking back up to study his lord, he noticed him awake and blearily looking at him.
“W-what”, Elrond coughed, his voice rough and throat sore. Lindir offered him a cup of the now tepid tea. Elrond cleared his throat and tried to speak again, this time successfully:
“What happened? I don’t remember…”, he trailed off, studying his surroundings. “Lindir, how did I get here, why are you in bedchambers?”
Lindir breathed in deeply, trying to banish some of the anger he was feeling.
“We are here, my lord, because you overexerted yourself trying to finish everyone’s work in one week and now you are sick- Do you know how worried I was when I found you? I thought you were dying!”, he got up and starting pacing around the room, “How much, my lord, how much pain and suffering do you intend to make yourself go through until you deem it acceptable to give up and ask for help? You could have asked me!”, Lindir took a moment to breathe before he continued ranting on.
“You could have asked me for help, and I know I would not have been able to do much, but I was there. I always am there for you, you only need ask! I know you think me pretty useless but Elrond you have people who care about you, who love you, I care about you, I lov- “, Lindir abruptly stopped himself and covered his mouth with his hand, as if trying to physically hold the words in.
He had said too much, he had said too much and now everything was ruined.
Elrond was staring at him, slowly blinking as if trying to catch up with all Lindir had just thrown at him. “Lindir, I… I am sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just…” He trailed off looking positively chastised. Then he seemed to realise what Lindir had said and frowned.
“You aren’t useless, where did you get that idea from? You’ve actually been a big help recently, without you I would have never….”, Elrond trailed off, his frown deepening. The fever still seemed to have a strong grasp on him, his usually quick mind was sluggish and slow.
Lindir blinked, he had not expected this reaction. He walked back to his chair and took a seat next to the bed again. He studied his lord carefully. His face was still covered In a layer of sweat and his eyes were a little glazed. He moved to feel Elrond’s temperature, frowning with concern in his eyes.
As he touched Elrond’s forehead, his lord made a small sound in the back of his throat. He quickly pulled his hand back, afraid that he had hurt him somehow.
Elrond looked unhappy and turned to his side, looking at Lindir: “It was nice. Your hand is cool, and it feels…nice.”
Lindir couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, his lord was usually so eloquent, seeing him so normal made his heart jump in his chest. It was him and him alone who was allowed the privilege to see Elrond and not the lord everyone knew. ‘He is like this because sick and weak, you should not interpret things into situations, you shouldn’t even be thinking about this.’, he angrily thought to himself.
He went to the bathroom to get a wet and cool washcloth and when he returned, he helped his lord to turn back on his back, slightly propping him up with pillows behind him.
Handing his lord some more tea, sat down on the bed next to him and wiped off some of the sweat from his brow with the washcloth.
“You should get some more rest”, he said quietly, “The healer says you should recover within a few days, given enough rest.”
Elrond gave a quiet hum of acknowledgement before snuggling back down in his pillows. Lindir hid his smile at that.
“You know, Lindir”, Elrond murmured quietly, “I care about you a lot too.”
Lindir stared at him not quite trusting his ears, he felt his face flush brightly, had he really heard correctly?.
“I am glad”, he said shyly, feeling a little awkward, what was he supposed to do now?
“Would you stay with me for a while? I don’t think I can find any rest alone” Elrond asked, voice slightly muffled by a pillow. He was feeling strangely unsure of himself.
“Of course, just one moment”, Lindir said and took off his outer robe and shoes, before pushing back the covers and slid into the bed next to his lord.
Elrond snorted softly: “I had thought you might camp out in that uncomfortable chair again, but this is much, much nicer”, he turned his head to Lindir’s shoulder and took a deep breath, his eyes were closing on their own and his breath started to even out.
Lindir smiled affectionately and put his arm around Elrond who was now deeply asleep again, lips slightly parted and breathing softly. Lindir gently smoothed down his sweaty hair, pressed a soft kiss onto the dark locks, “Sleep well my love.”
This Auromel would turn out to be the best one yet.