Categories > TV > Star Trek: The Next Generation > Sons of the Stars

Questions

by TrekQueen

Elrond and Picard get to talking some more. Glorfindel drops in for a visit too.

Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation - Rating: NC-17 - Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Crossover, Drama, Erotica, Fantasy, Romance, Sci-fi - Warnings: [!!] [?] - Published: 2006-08-31 - Updated: 2006-08-31 - 1971 words

?Blocked
Disclaimer: I own nothing and make nothing financially off of my writings. I owe everything to the Great Bird of the Galaxy and Great Wizard of the Universe.

Author's Note: I have a website dedicated to LOTR/Trek crossovers called Palantir Crossroads that is a fanlisting of other fanfictions posted elsewhere by other authors. Please take a look if you are interested!

Chapter Two: Questions

After speaking with Lord Elrond, Picard rested and slept for a few hours. Despite the reminder in the back of his head for his need to escape back to the yacht, Picard knew he had to gather his strength and bide his time until an opportunity presented itself. He soon realized that the 'healers' checked on him every three hours or so but he had not seen Elrond since that morning.

Evening began to fall and Picard's interest was piqued as voices joined in song drifted through the archways and windows from outside. His bed did not afford a view but with some effort and strain against the throbbing in his side and head, he managed to stand by holding himself up on the bedposts. Gradually he shuffled toward the opposite side of the room but Picard paused as he came upon a wide section that had no supporting furniture nearby.

"Take it slowly, don't rush," Picard told himself as he let go.

The first few steps were not too difficult but by sevens steps a searing pain brought Picard to his knees. He shut his eyes tightly as he muffled a groan. Suddenly, strong arms helped lift him and Picard looked into the eyes of his savior once more.

"Picard, it is too soon for you to be out of bed," Elrond said with concern.

"I ... I only wanted to hear or see the celebration," Picard explained, pointing toward his destination.

"Ah, I see," Elrond smiled then cautiously walked him closer.

Picard leaned upon the offered support of Elrond's arm draped around his waist. Memories flooded Picard as a reminder of one of his fever-dreams came back to him, that it was these same strong arms that had comforted him. With ease, Elrond helped Picard recline on the window cushions on the sill. The lord gathered a few more pillows to prop behind Picard's head and neck so that he could look below.

They watched as dancers in circles spun in the firelight while their voices carried on the wind. They wore light, white clothing and walked barefoot in the cool grasses. The frame of a building's dark silhouette loomed nearby, halfway finished.

"It will one day be a hall for songs, music, bard's tales..." Elrond said whimsically. "There are many things still to do until Imladris is complete. Yet every night we commemorate how much we have done and give thanks to the Valar."

"Why do you not join them, Lord Elrond?" Picard asked.

"I wanted to see how you are faring first," he said, then paused. "And I have many questions for you as well that I hope you will answer."

"How so? What are they?" Picard queried.

"You are very different from the other Edain we have met," Elrond began. "I could say it has much to do with your loss of memory but you do seem to remember certain things like your name or the direction you have traveled from. Yet you seem rather content with this missing part of you, I would think one would be more distressed."

"True," Picard said carefully. "However, I have faith that it will come back to me in full. That is what comforts me... as well as the fact of knowing that I am safe here in your care."

"That heartens me some," Elrond said with a smile. "I am interested as to why you have not asked of your differences."

"I... thought our races may be common allies," Picard treaded into unknown territory. "That we are fairly familiar with each other's kinds. At least I feel that way."

"Elf and Man are," Elrond said softly. "Our two kinds do not meet as commonly as you seem to think, though."

"Well, hopefully we may one day come across someone I know or I will remember more," Picard said.

"Yes, for now you must gain back your strength," Elrond said as he rose to go. "Perhaps when you are feeling better you can join us as well in celebration."

"I will look forward to it," Picard said.

"One of the healer-maidens will see to you before it is too late in the night," Elrond said as he stopped at the door. "I will have her make your bed on this side so that you can come to the window easily when you wish."

"I appreciate it," the captain said as the elf stepped out.

With a sigh, Picard turned back to his view of the joy below. A few minutes passed and he saw the solitary figure of Elrond walk closer to the fire. He did not join in the dancing as everyone paired off but he still sang with them. Familiarity to the situation came to Picard as he watched, knowing the lonesomeness that came with being a leader. The festivities continued through the late hours and to its sounds did Picard find his slumber.

*
The morning dawned bright and welcoming, matching Picard's renewed vigor after a peaceful night. The healer-maidens had brought breakfast for him, much like the type he preferred: a bread-type food much like croissants with jams and butter. Water and warm mead was his drink.

"Quite the appetite you have," came a voice as Picard looked up from his meal. "It is good you are feeling more like yourself." The golden-haired elf from the day before stepped up to Picard's bed and gave a short bow of his head. "I am Lord Glorfindel."

"My name is Jean-luc Picard," the captain introduced himself. "It seems I owe you a debt of gratitude."

"It is no matter," Glorfindel waved it off. "I was returning with my patrol. I could not in good faith leave a life to die in the wilderness."

"I am thankful nonetheless," Picard said. "How is it you came upon me?"

"We were seeing to the passes and forest if any lost and displaced travelers came this way from the destroyed cities and villages. We heard distressed moans and noises then came to you where you had fallen in the trees and bushes," Glorfindel explained.

"Displaced? Destroyed? Are you at war now?" Picard asked. "I thought I heard you speak of it to Lord Elrond yesterday."

"Yes, though I understand you have lost your past memories so you do not remember much," Glorfindel nodded with concern. "The Dark Lord Sauron has been in open war with us for four years but we knew of his intentions nearly a century ago. Many have died but plenty have escaped here and to other places in the west."

"You may go to battle soon?" Picard queried.

"It seems that way," Glorfindel said with a nod. "Lord Elrond has already dispatched missives to High King Gil-Galad for readying troops when reinforcements are needed. I fought Sauron's former lord a millennia ago so I shall see to his end as well."

"A millennia?" Picard said in shock. "How long do your people live?"

He was taken aback by Glorfindel's sudden laughter.

"You certainly do not remember a lot," the elf said. "We live forever; though, there are ways we can die, I can attest to that."

"I hate to be asking so many questions but... you have died?" Picard asked.

"And was reborn," Glorfindel said quietly. "I died one thousand seven hundred years ago in the destruction of my home as I protected Lord Elrond's sire and his parents. His sire was a mere child at the time but now I have returned here to be in Elrond's service."

"That is quite the story," Picard said with wonder. "Your age certainly does not show."

"Nay, it does not," Glorfindel said. "It is why many here are curious about you."

"Me? Why?" Picard asked.

"We do not age as Men do," the elf explained. "That is your gift from the Valar as is your subsequent path to death. Many have never faced or seen a Man of your years. I have, however, seen many after knowing many Men in serving Lord Elrond's grandsire."

"Lord Elrond is Man and Elf?" Picard asked, he would not turn down an opportunity to learn more about another culture.

"He is a Peredhil," Glorfindel said. "His mother and sire were as well but the Valar gave Elrond and his twin brother, Elros, a choice to cleave to one kind."

"What of his brother?"

Glorfindel sobered for a moment, "He chose the path of Men thus sundering himself for the rest of time from Elrond and elven-kind."

"That is sad to hear," Picard said.

"Perhaps that is why Lord Elrond has taken to helping you so greatly," Glorfindel suggested. "He will not forget his heritage and connection to Men. Nor will he forget his brother."

"Maybe," Picard shrugged. "I cannot say that for certain."

"None can but himself," Glorfindel said as he stood. "I shall be taking my leave of you. Good day, Jean-luc Picard."

"Wait, could you tell me if anything was found with me? A satchel or box?" Picard asked.

"Yes, there was," Glorfindel said thoughtfully before looking around then pulling out a bag from underneath a bed. "Here we are!"

"Thank you," Picard said as he took the pack and Glorfindel left.

Rummaging through some items, Picard realized he was lucky that he had not placed any padds or other technology in the bag with his books. Pulling out a small wooden box that was intact, Picard smiled and moved his food tray off his lap onto another table. Gingerly he stepped out of bed and climbed onto his cushioned perch in the window.

The glass panes had been left open from the night before and Picard pushed it more open to let the warm summer breeze blow over him. He looked below to see teams of elves at work on the hall while young elf-children giggled and chased each other in the nearby grasses. Now that it was daytime, Picard could see more of the place in which he resided.

Rooftops of finished and unfinished buildings peeked through the trees. Some were perched on hilly outcroppings while some sunned in open glades. Around them all stood tall cliffs with faraway shadows above. A crystal-like waterfall cascaded down one of the rock faces and down into the river valley the elves populated.

"Absolutely beautiful," Picard whispered.

Remembering the box in his hands, Picard opened it and brought out his Ressikan flute. The wondrous view had inspired him and playing always made him more at ease. Pressing his lips to the mouthpiece he began simply and let his heart take him.

*
Elrond had spent the morning in his study looking through books he had concerning the race of Men. He still had many questions about his new visitor that were not answered the night before. He hoped he could find more to quench his interest as well as help Jean-luc Picard remember his origins.

Immersed entirely in his research, Elrond did not at first hear the soft melody carried on the wind through his window. Looking up from a tome, Elrond stared out the window wondering what kind of flute was being played. Uncertain, he went to his window, which faced the healing chambers across the way. Sitting in the opposite window, Elrond spied Picard in a ray of sunshine with the flute as notes and melodies flowed out of it. Taking a seat in his own window, Elrond listened as he read for the length of Picard's playing.
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