Title & Chapter Number: Of Elves and Myths Series: In The Dark Of The Night 1/1
Author(s): - Author's Index
Fandom: Tolkien/Mythology
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Certain familiar characters belong to Tolkien, others to various cultures, I think you know which ones. I do not know any Elvish really... the title I pieced together from using Dragon Flame (though I do realize it's Sindarin, and I'm not entirely sure the Elves of Lothlorien speak Sindarin most... *puzzled look*)... half asleep I might add. Hopefully it's right. I make no money.
Warnings: None
Betas: Amy B
Cast: Erestor
Timeline: TA
Spoilers: Nope
Summary: A mysterious being visits Erestor's door one night, seeking entrance.
Notes: First off, just to head off any assumtions, these stories are not about the mythology of the Elves. They are stories containing mythology, sometimes combined, from Greek, Roman, Slavic, etc. cultures and incorporated into tales featuring Elves.
Second, there is no order to these as I write. Some take place during the War of the Ring, some take place after, some will probably take place before it. Others, still, aren't set in a specific time. The time setting is decided simply by what ideas come to me.
SPECIAL THANKS: To Amy B. for being such a terrific beta reader.
It was late in Imladris and a lone elf sat at a desk, his ebony hair unbraided and falling over his shoulders. Candlelight flickered over the desk covered with parchments and scrolls, some had been unrolled, others had yet to be unsealed. Erestor unrolled the scroll in his hands a few more inches to read on further about the troubles spreading throughout Middle-earth. Dark times had come upon them all since the One Ring had been found. Darker times were coming. He could feel it. He checked the bottom of the scroll to see Glorfindel's mark upon it before setting it down and picking up another one. He shook his head at this one. The dark cloud of Sauron was blotting out the sun, slowly but surely, and Thranduil was sending out invitations for a feast. Erestor sighed. He knew Thranduil meant well. He was only trying to keep spirits high and strong. Erestor had known the King of Mirkwood long. He was quite sure Thranduil knew where every player on the board was and had made decisions based upon every move there possibly was. He was not king without good reason, little got by him.
Erestor placed the invitation with the other scrolls already read and was reaching for another one when there was a knock on the door. He turned his head to stare at the door for a few long moments, his hand paused in mid-air. Who would be here this late? Another knock sounded and he rose to his feet. He could only think of one person who would call at this hour. As the thought crossed his mind, his heart sped up, thinking something dreadful must have happened for Lord Elrond to call upon him and he rushed to the door. He hastily pulled it open to stare for a moment at the figure before him who was most definitely not Lord Elrond. Or anyone he thought he knew for that matter. A tall, cloaked and hooded figure stood in the dark shadows outside the door. Erestor could not tell if it was male or female.
"May I be of assistance?"
The figure slowly raised its head, but the hood was deep and still no light penetrated the darkness within. "You work late this night, Erestor. You still wear your robes of office."
Erestor frowned, looking down at the black and silver garments he wore as if he'd forgotten what he was wearing. He did not recognize the male voice that greeted him. For some reason he found himself silently wishing he was wearing his sword, which was a startling thought, he had not worn it in centuries. "Who are you? Do I know you, sir? Show yourself," his voice held the authority of his position as Chief Advisor.
There was an answering laugh, but his late night visitor complied. Hands adorned with a couple of ornate rings and long polished fingernails reached up to brush the hood back. As Erestor gazed upon the smiling face watching him, he knew he had never seen this person before. He was also no Elf. Piercing, blue eyes studied him with amusement while the thin pale lips smirked at him. Wavy, black hair of shoulder length was slicked back away from the pale, high cheekboned face. Though Erestor could not clearly see him, even with his Elven eyesight, he looked a bit gaunt, as if he were poorly fed.
The pale man spread his hands opens as he peered past Erestor for a moment. "May I come in?"
Though good manners screamed at Erestor to let him in, his soul screamed at him not to. This was not one to admit entrance to, his instincts told him that and those instincts had served him well over the years. He ignored the question and submitted his own. "How do you know my name? What is *your* name?"
"Maelagar is my name." He smiled, as if he hadn't expected easy entry and was quite used to this give and take before he got it.
Erestor inwardly shivered at the name, but fought not to show it, as he crossed his arms and leaned casually against the doorframe. "And how do you know me? Have I met you somewhere, long ago, perhaps?"
"No. We have never met."
Erestor did not give him a moment to breathe before his next question. "Then how do you know me? Are you acquainted with the Lord of Imladris? With Glorfindel?" Surely, if he was he would know he'd been given the wrong name, the only name Erestor could think of so quickly.
Maelagar smiled, showing his teeth and Erestor's eyes were drawn to his canines which were unusually longer than the rest of his teeth, ending in slight points. "Yes, my friend and I go back some years, but I'm afraid we had lost contact of each other. Surely you can see that I mean you no harm? Lord Glorfindel sent me to you to find lodgings for the night."
Erestor took a step back into the room, eyeing the man with suspicion. "You shall not enter here, my friend, if that is what you are. My heart tells me you speak falsely."
Instead of reacting angrily to such accusations, the man merely tilted his head, closing his mouth as he smiled at him this time. "Oh, come now. I think you have been at the wine this night. I am no thief, nor am I a murderer. Please, I beg of you, let me in. I am weary."
Erestor shook his head. "No."
"Fine. I shall come clean to you. I am not acquainted with Lord Glorfindel and, by the way you reacted after your questioning, I assume that is not actually his name. Good show." He smiled his thin smile at him for a moment. "Dangerous creatures roam the night, I did not want to take a chance when there was a safe haven so near. Forgive me for my wrongful claims, I meant no harm, but I did not know where to go so late. Your door was one of the few leaking candlelight."
Even if he were telling the truth now that did not explain how he knew Erestor's name. "If you speak the truth and mean no harm, the Valar will find you shelter, but it will not be with me."
He shut the door before the dark man could protest. If he truly had wanted entry why did he not just force his way in, Erestor had no arms to hold against him if he should choose to do so. That puzzled him greatly, as he sat back down, but did not go back to work. He felt sure that the man was not human as he appeared and that he was quite powerful, so why hadn't he just forced he way? Maybe he couldn't. He recalled stories from when he was an Elfling that his mother had told him. Certain evils could not cross any threshold without being invited.
The thought dawned on him suddenly, what of the other inhabitants of Imladris? He must get out word of this pale intruder. He rose and pushed miscellaneous books and things off of the wooden chest that sat at the end of his bed. He opened it and began pulling things out, littering the floor with them; his bow, his arrows, his helmet, his armor, other items that held memories for him and finally his sword. He pulled it out of the scabbard, the blade catching the candlelight.
Carrying the sword at the ready in his hand, Erestor crept to the door. He quietly listened with his ear pressed against it for several long moments before he slowly pulled the door open and peered outside. He saw no one. He pulled the door open some more, preparing to step out when he paused. Something told him he shouldn't venture out. That it would be a mistake to do so. He bit his lower lip in his pondering frustration. It was his duty, as an Elf of Imladris, to warn his people, but what if Maelagar was lying in wait for him? Elves might be immortal, but they were known to die and it had been long since he had seen battle.
He shut the door and leaned against it. He would keep an ear out for any suspicious sounds and when morning came the first thing he would do would be to get word out. Daylight would be here within a few hours. He whispered a silent prayer that the Valar would keep close watch over Imladris where he could not.
Erestor dragged the chair over to the door and sat down, his sword laying across his lap. He did not move for the remainder of the night.
~*~*~*~
Elrond stepped out into the light of the early morning, a grim and worried look on his face as Elrohir followed behind him. Just then, Erestor came running around the corner, sword in hand. Both father and son, having never seen the Chief Advisor in such a way and Elrohir had never seen him armed, stared at him with blank looks on their faces. He came to a sudden, but light, stop in front of them.
"M'Lord! There is an intruder in the city! You must --!"
Elrond grabbed him by the shoulder with one hand while the other grabbed the wrist of his sword hand to lower the weapon currently aimed at... a most vulnerable spot on his person. "Erestor, calm down. We know."
It was Erestor's turn to stare and then he paled. "You know? Then I have failed! I was too late!"
"Erestor!" Elrond momentarily looked ready to slap him.
Elrohir pushed him out of the way though. "Erestor, do not worry. He has been caught... well, killed is more like it, but all is well."
They both thought Erestor would faint from relief. "How? He did not hurt anyone?"
Elrond took the sword from him. "Come with us. Elrohir shall tell you on the way."
Elrohir looped his arm through Erestor's as he steered them both after Elrond. "A pale visitor came to our door not long before dawn, we'd just come in from patrol. I answered the door, I think the man, or whatever he was, thought I was alone, Elladan was out of sight in one of the corner chairs half asleep already. He said something about you sending him to us for lodging for the night and that he was a friend of Glorfindel's, but he hadn't told him he was coming. He had wanted it to be a surprise. He seemed off to me, but Glorfindel has been known to make odd friends... so I bid him to come in."
All three turned into the room the two twins shared where the body of the dark man lay on the floor, a pool of dark blood soaked the front of his cloak where there was a ghastly wound in his chest. His head lay not too far from him where it had come to rest when he'd been decapitated.
Elrohir finished up his story while Elrond and Erestor stared at the scene. "No sooner had he come in then he attacked me. He had such sharp fangs and here I was unarmed for the night already. Luckily Elladan is easily roused for he shouted at the thing and ran him through when he turned, letting me go."
Elladan had been standing guard over the body with a fierce look on his face. He looked up at Erestor and Elrond. "I beheaded him just to be on the safe side."
Elrond raised his eyebrows and just nodded at him. He turned to Erestor. "I believe you have a story to share with us, Erestor, but not right now." He handed the sword over to him. "Why don't you go rest a bit. Word must be sent to Mirkwood and Lothlórien about this. There may be more of them. Word should also be sent out to all of our kin abroad."
Elrohir stepped forward. "We should head out to see what news can be collected from Men and warn them as well."
Elrond nodded. "Yes, but not this moment you're not. Rest a while."
Erestor nodded, more to himself then any of them. They had things under control. Even if there were more, he felt he could relax now. While Elrohir and Elrond began arguing, as father and son will, about the importance of getting word versus resting, Erestor slipped out the door to head back to his own room. He held up the sword for his inspection as he slowly walked back. Perhaps he should visit the training grounds more. He was definitely going to be wearing his sword at his side from now on.
The End
~*~*~*~
Maelagar -- Though Mael means lust and Agar blood and so are switched around, I translate this name as Bloodlust.
~*~*~*~
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