Some Futile Hope by Luxa

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Part One: Chapter Four

Elrond arrives for his first training session with the other Elves while Glorfindel tries not to think about his developing feelings for a certain war minister. 

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Second Age, September 11th, 1685. 7:58 A.M. 

 

As Glorfindel watch the young trainees finish trickling into the field, he felt his worry grow. Elrond knew as well as he did how it would look if he was late; so where was he? Had he decided not to come? Glorfindel had thought he'd looked anxious but determined when he'd left him the day before, not at all like he was going to skip out on the session. Had he overestimated Elrond?

 

No, he decided. He hadn't. It was just as he thought this that Elrond walked onto the training field, jaw set, wearing the plain tunic all trainees wore. It was so jarring to see Elrond like this, his pale (less pale, now, due to his exercise and training) face and long black hair pulled back in no more than a simple ponytail, that the other Elves did not recognize him at first. It was only when they had huddled into a group around Glorfindel and realized that there was a newcomer among them that heads turned in his direction. Elrond didn't give any sign of having noticed the attention, but Glorfindel knew it was only a facade.

 

Glorfindel cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "Okay, everyone, we'll start with our-"

 

"Lord Glorfindel?"

 

The first person to mention Elrond's presence was not, as Glorfindel had expected, a large, opinionated Elf that spent all their days in this training field, but one of the younger Elves who was training only in case there was an emergency that caused the whole of Lindon to go to war.

 

"Yes, Alcarin?"

 

"Is he...is he supposed to be here?" Alcarin nervously jerked his head towards Elrond.

 

"Yes, Lord Elrond is going to be joining us for some time."

 

"But...why?"

 

Most of the other Elves seemed torn between amusement at Alcarin and distaste for Elrond and seemed to be waiting for Glorfindel to speak before doing anything. 

 

"Any Elf in Lindon who wishes to train here may do so, Alcarin, and I make it a point not to interrogate them as to why. If Lord Elrond wishes to tell you, then you may ask him."

 

"I find it necessary to my duties to have a higher level of proficiency in regards to swordplay," said Elrond suddenly, his voice flat and calm. "As many have pointed out to me over the years, I am not as qualified for my position as I would hope." 

 

This seemed to send a ripple of surprise through all of the Elves, and there was a long moment of silence before a cheery, bulky Elf that rather reminded Glorfindel of Gil-galad said, "Lord Elrond, if you wanted to spar with me, I'm open." 

 

Glorfindel laughed, and everyone's attention shifted back to him. "I actually was going to open today's training session with a run around the field, although you're welcome to spar afterwards, Tarcil."

 

Tarcil gripped Elrond's shoulder and grinned before setting off on a brisk lap around the field with the other Elves, leaving Elrond to stand there looking confused before quickly realizing what he was supposed to be doing and joining them. 

 

Glorfindel gave himself a moment or two to relish in the idea that this might actually work before joining the group.  

 

Second Age, September 11th, 1685. 7:45 P.M.

 

Glorfindel approached Elrond's office cautiously, uncertain as to whether or not now was a good time to knock. He did anyway, figuring Elrond wasn't the sort who'd throw an ink-pot at him just for disturbing him. 

 

Elrond answered the door a minute later. "Yes, come in, I was hoping you would stop by. I have rather a lot of work to do, so I hope you'll excuse me for not giving you my complete attention. Help yourself to a cup of tea if you'd like."

 

Glorfindel did, noticing that it was still warm. Someone must have just brought it in. He took one look at the uncomfortable chairs and made his usual decision to stand. 

 

Elrond sat at his desk amidst a sea of papers whose order made sense only to Elrond. He resumed his work, and Glorfindel once again noticed how awkward his style of writing was, his hand held high above the paper. 

 

"It's awful, isn't it?" said Elrond conversationally, never taking his eyes off his work. "Being left-handed. I pray for the day someone invents ink that's already dry when you put it to paper." 

 

"Do you think someone will?"

 

"If someone doesn't, I will," replied Elrond, smirking. "Enough of this. I doubt you came here today to banter about my devil writing."

 

Glorfindel wished he knew what that meant, but as Elrond obviously wished to move on, he filed it away for another day.

 

"Yes, you're right. I came to discuss your performance today at the training field." 

 

Glorfindel wished he hadn't phrased it so formally, because Elrond looked up to give him a nervous smile that caused Elrond to blot his page and resulted in a completely different reaction in Glorfindel. He struggled to keep his cool and focused on what he was about to say next.

 

"It was fine, Elrond, don't worry. It was more than fine, actually. Not only did you perform well, but the Elves were surprised to see you there and many seemed to be ready to give you a chance. As long as you keep coming I think this plan may work."

 

Elrond sighed and chewed his lip. "Of course I plan to keep coming, that's the whole reason we did this. But I'm worried, Glorfindel. I'm going to have to leave early most days, my work demands it. I even did some extra work yesterday so I wouldn't be overwhelmed after training, but I've still got piles left. It's going to look bad, I know, but it can't be helped."

 

Glorfindel privately agreed with Elrond, but he said, "I'm sure if you keep coming, they'll understand that you're not just blowing it off. In fact..." Glorfindel had just had an idea, a good one. "...why don't you send someone to come get you at the time you need to go? They can make it sound like you have to go, like you've been summoned...well, not by the King, that wouldn't help, but by someone important, and you can make a big show of not wanting to leave, but you have to. Does that sound like it could work?"

 

Elrond raised an eyebrow. "Do you think it could work every day?"

 

"Sure, if you play it right. It could also help impress on them how much work you do, because I don't think they realize that. They probably think you...you..." Glorfindel tried to think of a way to end that sentence that wasn't insulting. 

 

"Spend all my time lying naked on Ereinion's bed, waiting for him to finish his silly duties so he can get back to me?" suggested Elrond wryly.

 

Glorfindel felt his face color. "Not exactly like that, no."

 

"But close enough. Again, Glorfindel, you have proved invaluable to me. I cannot give you enough thanks."

 

"You don't need to. It's a pleasure to help you." 

 

Glorfindel bowed slightly, out of habit more than anything else, and Elrond said, his long eyelashes lowered as they concentrated on his paperwork, "You may go, Glorfindel. Go wherever you go when you're not with us."

 

"Back to my rooms then, to read." 

 

Elrond laughed at that, and his deep voice sent a bolt of lighting straight down Glorfindel's stomach. He hurried out of the office. 

 

Or, he thought guiltily, I'm off to my rooms to engage in a far less wholesome activity. 

 

Second Age, September 27th, 1685. 6:45 A.M.

 

"Oh, hello, Elrond," greeted Glorfindel, pausing in his exercises to greet the Half-elf. "You're a bit early, only us officers are here. Any particular reason, or just here for a bit of early training?" 

 

Elrond had been training every day since that nerve-wracking first day, and Glorfindel was glad to say that general attitude towards Elrond had improved. It was true that many thought that this was a passing whim of his and was going to drop it in due time, while many others claimed to know that Elrond was only doing it to please the High King. A few had cottoned onto the truth and said Elrond was there to stay. The jeers and insults to Elrond's face had stopped, while the gossip was so concentrated on his appearance at training that people were completely forgetting to call him nasty names.

 

As for their plan to have Elrond summoned out of practice early every day, it was working quite perfectly, and Glorfindel rarely heard Elves say that they didn't think Elrond was working hard anymore. 

 

"A particular reason, I'm afraid," said Elrond. Glorfindel now noticed that Elrond was wearing the same heavy robes as the night before, only now they were crumbled and ink-stained. There were dark shadows under the Half-elf's large gray eyes, and his smile was tired.

 

"Ereinion and I have been up all night, going over plans. The Enemy is amassing an army and he's pointing it right at us. We have finally agreed to call out our reserve troops and send them to the training grounds so they can brush up their skills."

 

"For how long?" asked Glorfindel. 

 

"Until war."

 

"You...definitely think that's going to happen?"

 

"Yes."

 

Glorfindel thought. "I know you're pressed for experienced soldiers, but you're going to have to find some. We can't train many more than we have coming right now. When are they reporting for training?"

 

"Tomorrow."

 

Glorfindel gaped at Elrond, who smiled thinly.

 

"It was all I could do to get Ereinion to delay it that much. He is under the impression that we must do everything in haste, although I believe that it may be several years before us or the Enemy is ready to go to war. I will comb our archives and pull every soldier who's been to battle out of retirement as soon as possible. The ones who lives in the capital, you'll see tomorrow. It will take some time for the ones who live all around Lindon, so you'll have to make do." 

 

"Yes, sounds good. Thanks for keeping me informed."

 

Elrond sighed. "I'd like to stay and train with you, but I need to get cleaned up." 

 

"We have extra sets of tunics in the back of the changing rooms," said Glorfindel cheerily. "You're welcome to use one of those. I can't promise that they're gorgeous, but they're clean."

 

Elrond hesitated. "Are you sure?"

 

"Of course, that's what they're there for. Just throw your robes on the back wall, no one will touch them."

 

Elrond smiled tentatively and set off towards the changing rooms. Glorfindel concentrated on his push-ups so he wouldn't feel tempted to watch Elrond's backside as he retreated.

 

"Ridiculous," he muttered.

 

He heard a low chuckle behind him and turned to see another officer behind him, a  warrior woman who was old for Lindon, having fought in the War of Wrath. 

 

"Ridiculous?" she repeated, smiling. "Yes, I think so too. Ridiculous that one should be so attractive."

 

"Telperien..." he said, exasperated, not really at her, but her ability to grasp the truth so quickly.  

 

"In fact, I might chase him myself if I didn't fear the wrath of the King."

 

He ignored her and continued his push-ups. She didn't look like she was going anywhere, so he finally said, "He is devoted to the King, Telperien. He cares about Gil-galad more than anyone."

 

"I know," Telperien replied. "You might want to remember that."

 

He grunted in response, and she laughed. "Hurry up with those push-ups, I want to spar with you. Give you a chance to beat me for once."

 

Glorfindel was reduced to mere syllables as she sat on his back. 

 

 

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Chapter End Notes

Hmm. Not sure how I feel about this chapter. On the other hand, it's been some time since I wrote it, so I'm not sure I remember this chapter either. Sorry for all the young OC Elves I think are in this chapter! :)