Time Enough for Love
by Elfscribe, elfscribe5@yahoo.com
Characters: Legolas/OC (Elwin), Elrond/Glorfindel, Lindir/OC
Overall Rating: NC-17, this chapter PG
Beta: Capella
Disclaimers, see chapter 1
****************************
Chapter 8 - Rainy Night Revelations

Will's breathing had changed, becoming shallower and more labored. He held
Elwin's hand clutched to his chest. The elf sat in the dark, unmoving, trying to
lend whatever strength he could. It seemed just days ago that Will was a
handsome, vital young man, an image Elwin still carried full-color in his head.
And now to see him so old and ill was a sore trial.

Earlier the family had come in and sat for a while, each taking a turn to talk
to Will, to tell him they loved him. Will had moved and tried to speak when Cade
had come, but now he showed no sign of consciousness.

This was the third Rushlight whose spirit Elwin had felt depart from this world.
The first he had known, also named William, had died suddenly in an accident
while still young, in his forties. Not even of age for an elf, Elwin thought. By
the time the Imladris elf had heard and come to visit, the man was already
buried. He had vowed he wouldn't let that happen again.

But this time was different. With no other Rushlight had he been as close as
once he'd been to Will. Against Elwin's better judgement, they had become
lovers during the summer in which they had entered the contest. It was not wise
for many reasons: the community would never have accepted it; Elwin didn't think
Will deserved a flighty elven lover who disappeared for years at a time; and
Elwin wasn't in love with him, not in the way Will wanted.

They had parted hard that summer but both agreed it was best, or so Elwin had
thought. Several years later he had returned to attend Will's wedding to Mandy.
Then the first child, Timothy, had come. Then the others. Whenever Elwin had
made his sporadic visits, he had been pleased to see the family had grown and
was thriving. Will seemed happy and Elwin believed their brief affair was
forgotten. Eighteen years ago, when Mandy died young of an illness, Elwin had
come to comfort Will, who would not be comforted. His love for his wife had been
great. Elwin had not guessed until today that the man was still in love with
him. How could he have known? It turned his heart inside out.

Lisbet came into the room bringing a lantern and a tray with a steaming mug and
half a loaf of bread on it. "You shouldn't be sitting in the dark, Master
Elwin," she said.

He looked up at her. "Perhaps you're right; it leads to dark thoughts."

She set down the tray, fixed the lantern on a hook in the ceiling, then looked
at him sidelong. "I brought you sommat to eat." She picked up the mug and
handed it to him. "Go on, then."

He took a sip. Hot cider. It tingled sharp-sweet in his mouth. "Thank you." He
looked out the window at the night sky and realized how late it was. "Is
everyone else still up?" he asked.

"They're up, but dozing by the fire," she said. She sat down and put her hand
on Will's arm. "This is so hard. He's been ill for quite some time but he just
held on until you got here. He's always been stubborn."

"I feel badly that I didn't come before."

"Well, you got here in time. So don't feel bad, Master Elwin." He glanced up
and found her watching him intently. "He talked of you often," she continued.
"He was very fond of you."

"I know."

Was very fond. Already he is spoken of in the past tense, Elwin thought. He felt
the cool, bony fingers still gripping his, still clutching at the last shreds of
life. A lump came into his throat. He shifted restlessly and remembered how
Legolas's face had looked while he was sitting in the chair where Lisbet now
sat, his mouth set and a line creased between his lovely dark brows. This must
have been hard on him. He could tell his lover was uneasy meeting William.
Maybe he should have told Legolas beforehand, prepared him better. He hadn't
expected Will to bring up their affair of so long ago.

"I should go downstairs and see how the others are doing," he said.

"Just Thornan is here now," Lisbet said. "The other two left."

"What?"

"They left."

"Did they say where they were going?"

"I didn't see them go. But Thornan said that Prince Legolas left and that Lord
Glorfindel, he went after him."

Elwin suddenly had a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He gently
pulled his hand away from Will's grip. "I need to go and find out what
happened," he said. "Can you stay with him?"

"Aye." She nodded.

"Please tell me if there is any change." Then he spoke to the still form. "I'll
be back soon, Will. Don't go anywhere without me."

Elwin ran quickly down the narrow stairway into the living room. Thornan and
Cade were sitting with their backs to the fire. Thornan looked up at Elwin and
opened his mouth to say something.

"Where are Legolas and Glorfindel?" Elwin asked.

"I don't know," said Thornan. "The Prince came in to tell the family they were
wanted upstairs. He looked somewhat pale. He said he was going outside for some
air. Moments later Glorfindel jumped up and ordered me to stay and look out for
you. He must have sensed something, but if so it was beyond my ken. He left as
well. I looked out the window and saw him start running towards the woods
across the fields over there." He pointed. "I should have gone too, but he said
I should stay here."

"Oh gods," said Elwin, "That was hours ago! What could be wrong?" He went to the
front door and opened it, peering out into the dark. Thornan came and stood next
to him. Elwin stepped out into the yard and began striding in the direction of
the woods but Thornan laid a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Elwin. It does no good to run off in the night when we have no idea where he
has gone. I'm sure Glorfindel will take care of him."

Elwin hesitated, feeling torn. He tapped the flat of his hand rapidly against
his thigh in agitation. "I guess you're right. I shouldn't leave Will anyway."
Glancing uncertainly towards the woods, he turned and went back into the house.

*********************************
Glorfindel's lungs heaved as he strained to catch up with the long limbs and
ripple of yellow hair that sped into the dusk. Curse of Mandos, but the prince
was fast. He seemed to be running as one possessed. Glorfindel's senses
screamed that something dark and unnatural was at work. He sniffed the air,
smelling impending rain, then redoubled his efforts, willing his legs to move
quicker.

Legolas entered a thick stand of tall trees and, as the darkness enveloped him,
slowed his pace. His head turned back and forth as if searching for something.

"Legolas! Daro!," Glorfindel called but the prince showed no sign of hearing
him. With a last sprint, Glorfindel caught up to him and threw himself against
the Sinda, knocking him to the ground.

They rolled.

Legolas struggled, shoved a knee under the seneschal, grabbed his arm and
flipped Glorfindel over his head. The seneschal landed hard on his back and let
out a sharp groan. He flailed out and caught Legolas about the legs just as he
was rising and brought him down again. He jumped up and threw his weight hard
onto the prince, straddling his hips and pushing his shoulders into the ground.
Dead leaves crunched underneath.

"Let me go," the prince hissed. He lashed out a hand and caught Glorfindel under
the throat. The seneschal choked and kneed the prince in the solar plexus,
causing him to gasp for breath. The prince's eyes gleamed with anger.

"Legolas," Glorfindel cried. "Where in the name of Elbereth do you think you are
going?" He braced himself for another assault but Legolas went limp and made a
soft swallowing sound.

"Glorfindel, is that you?" he whispered.

"Who did you think it was?"

"I, I don't know what happened," Legolas choked. "Suddenly, I couldn't stand it
anymore. I had to get away."

"The food wasn't that bad," Glorfindel said, still panting, "Well, maybe the
soup was."

There was a pause, then Legolas chuckled, a low throaty sound. The chuckle
swelled into laughter, with a ragged edge of hysteria.

Glorfindel grabbed the prince by the chin. "Legolas, take command of yourself!"

One quick heave of his chest and the prince grew quiet. Glorfindel became aware
of Legolas's heated thighs underneath his own, and the soft bulge between the
prince's legs pressing against him. His sandalwood scent had been made strong by
exertion. Most pleasant. The image came to him of Legolas flexing his hips
against Elwin on the floor of the hallway. A wave of heat settled into his
loins and Glorfindel thought he had better get up or be tempted to do something
he would later regret.

"You won't try and run off again, will you?" the seneschal asked.

"No."

Glorfindel took the weight off his hands, then rolled to the side. They lay next
to each other in the dark, listening to the settling noises of the woods. The
trees creaked and sighed in a quickening breeze. Glorfindel felt his muscles
relaxing as his breathing slowly steadied.

"You are winded, old one," Legolas said softly. Glorfindel could hear the smile
in his voice. The prince sounded calm, in control again. Good.

"Yes, but I caught you, didn't I, ancient as I am," said Glorfindel.

"I could have outrun you, if I wished. I stopped to see where I was going."

"Then you must have been coming to your senses."

"Perhaps."

An oak towered over their heads. Silhouetted heavily against the sky, a being of
massive weight and gruff patience, its curved branches tapered to slender points
in the distance. He could smell the green of new leaves, hear their supple
fluttering against last year's dead ones which had not yet fallen. Glimpsed
between the net of black branches, portions of the night sky were afire with a
dusting of stars. But dark clouds were rapidly eating them up, and one by one,
they winked out.

He heard Legolas sigh. "I always looked to the stars as untouchable beauty
everlasting. Is it true that even they will die someday, Glorfindel?" he asked.

"Everything wears with time," Glorfindel said, "even the stars."

"That is exactly what Elwin said."

"It is a line from an epic poem, which I have heard Elwin sing. Supposedly it is
what Oromë told the First Born at Cuiviénen when the Eldar learned we were
immortal and asked if we would last forever. In the poem, Time is depicted as a
master smith, grinding the world down to sparks and dust, then reforging the
residue into a new shape. So it is with all things in nature. Some beings
flicker in and out like so." He snapped his fingers. "Others take much longer.
Each dances to its own meter, awaiting its fate."

"I well understand the rhythms of nature," Legolas said. "And I, myself, have
cut short the life thread of other creatures, more often than I like to think,
but I have not had to face it before . . . in a loved one."

He sounded so young and scared, Glorfindel's heart went out to him. He reached
over and squeezed the prince's shoulder, reassuringly. "There is no certainty in
reading the future, Legolas," Glorfindel said. "Elrond has told you that. This
prophecy is not doom."

"If only I could be sure of that." Legolas's voice trembled. "I had a vision of
Elwin laid out on a funeral pyre. It seemed so real."

"Is that what caused you to run?"

"I couldn't help myself. It was as if something else took over and . . . . " He
stopped short.

Glorfindel propped himself up on his elbows, peering hard into the darkness. He
thought he heard a faint hissing laughter. Then it was gone. He extended his
senses and felt nothing. There was a low rumbling growl of approaching thunder.

"You must think me a coward," Legolas said.

"I think nothing of the sort," Glorfindel replied. "There is something uncanny
at work here. Are you all right now?"

"I don't know."

"We should go back. It is going to rain." A heavy drop hit the ground. Then
another. "It's coming, Legolas. There is shelter nearby. I passed an overhang of
rocks back there."

Glorfindel stood and helped the prince up. They retraced their steps until they
found the rock outcropping. There was a little alcove under it, into which they
crept. Legolas's shoulder pressed up against the seneschal's arm. By now the
rain had gathered force and was hammering the earth. For some time, they
listened to it pelt down, then Legolas said, "Balrog-slayer. I need to know
something."

"And what is that?"

Legolas lowered his voice to a whisper. "I would know what it is like to die and
be reborn."

Glorfindel felt a chill roll over him. "That is a tale best kept for the
daylight."

"Then let us build a fire. There is some dead wood here and I have flint and
striker in my pouch."

Glorfindel hesitated. There seemed to be a snarling in the dark. "All right,"
he said at last.

******************************
Ergluk took another large bite of blackened, bloody meat and wiped his mouth
with the back of his hand. Much better now. Stomach filling up finally. How
long on the hunt now? Weeks? He'd lost count. Bloody curses on Grutznaga for
bringing them so scunning far from their hold in the mountains. ‘Follow me to
riches and glory,' he'd said. Instead what? Deeper and deeper into tark country
and what was worse, he was fairly sure they were being tracked. He growled.

A bulky form sat down heavily next to him with a loud chink of chain mail, his
lumpy features grotesque in the leaping firelight. Even among uruks, this piece
of warg shite was ugly. A fist struck him in the arm. "Ah Ergluk, I told you
it'd get better," he said.

"You call this better? A few skinny sheep shanks?"

"Ah, but after the entertainment tonight, something softer."

Ergluk agreed that would be better. He grunted, "Are you going to do the
honors, Grutznaga?"

"I thought Penglun would. He's so good with that knife. A true artist. Or you.
You're probably up for some play. I always like to watch you work."

"Yeah," Ergluk laughed, remembering other nights. The screams. The blood. He
licked his lips. Then the unease crept back. "Too bad Lunt isn't here anymore,"
he snarled. "He always craved play." He'd been very sorry to lose that lad.
Trusty in a fight and good for an occasional poke behind a rock.

"He wasn't careful enough. Must've fallen in a pit or something."

"You mean,* you* weren't careful enough. It was you sent him scouting for the
trail and then *They* got him."

"We don't know that's what happened. He coulda just got nervous, bolted for
home."

"We *do* know, oh Lugotz Leader. It had all the signs. A sudden disappearance.
No sound. Just drag marks in the soil."

"No one's disappeared for over a week. If anyone was following, we lost ‘em
crossing that wretched bog. They're probably gone."

"Just keeping thinking that, ‘til one dark night, it's your precious neck,"
Ergluk laughed, a thin wheezing sound. "We should've known, coming into their
country," he spat. "Although they've come up into ours often enough."

"We've still got a troop of forty-two sturdy lads here. A match for any of them
scunnin' elves."

"We *had* forty-four," Ergluk hissed. "Tell me, Grutznaga, have you ever seen
‘em?"

"No, I've heard rumors though. Just like stories you tell to frighten the
rabble."

A clap of thunder echoed through the cave. Ergluk looked uneasily out into the
darkness. "Well, I did. We were holed up in Utznug's Fold near the East Gate of
Misty Mountain Stronghold. We'd caught some of those wood men creatures, along
with some of their females." He grinned. "About to make a fine play of it too.
They was beggin' and cryin' just so delicious. Then I saw them, just as it's
said, like wraiths, rising up outa the shadows, tall as lances, side by side.
They threw back their hoods. Brrrr," he shivered. "All I remember was the eyes,
glittering bright, like the cursed moon itself come down among us. And
Grutznaga, they were exactly alike."

"I've heard that, never believed it though. Next you'll tell me there is such a
thing as ghosts."

"It's true enough. Exactly alike, as I'm tellin' you. And silent as death. Then
zip, zip, arrows flying, and the bite of sharp metal and the lads started
running and screaming and falling. I only just escaped. You fool, they're
nothin' to sneer at. I'm going back."

In a sudden movement, Grutznaga pulled his knife and pressed it under Ergluk's
chin. "Not ‘til we're done with this mission," he said.

"I said I'm going back and what's more, I'm taking what lads'll follow me. Which
is most of ‘em from what I hear." Quietly Ergluk slid his own dagger out of his
boot.

Their foolish leader growled and pressed the knife harder until Ergluk felt a
sharp pain and a thin trickle of blood. "Remember Ergluk, you're *second* in
command. You'll do what I say and so will the others."

"Before you decide to slice me a new southern mouth, look down," Ergluk hissed.
He pressed the tip of his knife into the softness of Grutznaga's crotch and felt
the uruk leader jump. "You could probably live without these nasty bits but life
will be much less sweet," Ergluk smirked. He almost hoped Grutznaga would push
his luck and he could thrust the knife home with a twist. His hand twitched in
anticipation.

Suddenly the ugly mouth parted in a guffaw and Grutznaga lowered his knife.
"Never knew you had an interest in my bits, Ergluk. Maybe a trip to the back of
the cave is in order."

"Don't even think it," Ergluk emphasized his point with another strategic poke
of the blade.

"You turn tail! You want to give up because of elf phantoms?"

"Turn tail! Fah! You picked me, remember, because I'm known to stand my ground
in a fight. But I have no wish to risk my hide over some wild-ass notion of
yours. You want my help, you better tell me what this raid is all about. Don't
tempt me or there will be no future little Grutznagas and we *will* have that
something soft for dinner tonight." Another prod.

"All right. I'll tell you. Just you. It can't spread to any of the others, see?"
Grutznaga looked around at his band, sprawled on the dank floor of the cave,
gnawing on bones or playing dice, or eying the bound prisoner and fingering
their knives. No one was paying attention to them. "Drop your little sticker,"
he told Ergluk, who obliged, but kept it ready.

Grutznaga lowered his voice to a rasping whisper. "Remember that nasty gangrel
creature they found wandering about the Stronghold five years ago?"

"Yeah, what of it? He escaped. His guards paid dearly for that one, I heard."

"Not before he talked of a great treasure. A trinket that makes the wearer
invisible, stolen from him by something called a hobbit. Carried on about it
something fierce, he did. The creature said he was searching for it."

"We heard that prattle.The git was mad."

"That's what everybody thought. But I picked up something from a survivor of the
Battle of Five Armies, just before he died." He grinned. "They say a creature
called a hobbit was seen around there, befriended by dwarves, and that his
country was west of here. The Shire it's called. I've asked around, very quiet
like, and found out about where it lies. Then I've heard other rumors, whispers,
that we're to keep our eyes peeled for any trinkets. Great reward for the
finder, they say. I'm the only one has got it figured out." He preened.

"You're as mad as that gangrel creature. This country is getting more and more
crowded with these scunning men as we go. They'll get us if the elf wraiths
don't."

"They're not well armed and don't know how to fight. We caught that one tonight
so easy, sleeping as he was amongst the sheep, without a care. Just think of it,
Ergluk. Wealth. No more of them elf wraiths to worry about. No more big bosses
ordering us around. We could set up with our lads anywhere. Maybe even near
here."

Yes, Ergluk thought, that would be very desirable, for one of them, whoever got
it first. He'd known Grutznaga for a long time. He was always sure of a kill
before he drew his weapon. It was why Ergluk had agreed to follow him so often
in the past, even though Grutznaga clearly underestimated the dangers from the
scunning elves. And Ergluk had heard the stories himself about the finding of a
powerful trinket. He rubbed his chin, thinking of all the possibilities. "You
might just have something," he said. "How far is it from here?"

"I'd say maybe another week's journey. According to that one," he indicated the
shivering prisoner, "we're within another night's march from some towns. We'll
skirt north of ‘em. Lots of plunder for the picking." He grinned and the light
glinted off a gold tooth. "We'll hold up here during the daylight tomorrow and
then head out."

"All right, you've got my attention, for now," Ergluk grunted. "But if anything
else goes wrong, I'm headin' back to safety."

Grutznaga grinned and clapped Ergluk on the back. "That's what I wanta see. A
smart Uruk."

Yeah, Ergluk thought, smarter than you anyway, you cheese-headed, sonovawarg.
There was another howl of thunder and then rain began pelting down outside.

"And who found this shelter for you? I did," Grutznaga continued. He raised his
voice. "Who do you miserable cave rats thank for fresh meat and a roof
tonight?"

The others turned their heads."Grutznaga," one of them roared. The others looked
at Ergluk.

"Grutznaga," Ergluk shouted and was gratified that his lads took his lead and
began chanting their leader's name. The idiot would see, when push came to
shove, who they would follow.

"And now," Grutznaga said grandly, standing and swaggering toward the cowering
prisoner, "it's play time." He hauled the pitiful excuse for a creature up onto
his feet by his hair and then threw him to the ground, kicking him hard in the
stomach. The man groaned and there was rough laughter around them.

"Ergluk will do the honors," Grutznaga said. The uruks howled and banged their
weapons against the floor.

"With pleasure," Ergluk said. He hauled himself off the rock, and brandishing
the knife, walked slowly toward his victim, savoring his terror-stricken look.
The sound of the drumming rain reverberated throughout the cavern.

***********************************
Elwin went to the door and peered out again as he had done a dozen times over
the last hour. A long swell of thunder rumbled around him, then a gust of wet
air blew in some leaves. Rain spattered on the ground. His lover was out in
this and it was all his fault. He sighed, then heard tentative footsteps behind
him and turned. Cade stood there scrunching up a fistful of his curly hair,
brows knit in concern.

"Master Elwin, Legolas will return. I'm sure of it. Come inside now."

Elwin sighed deeply and shut the door. "How's your Granddad doing?" he asked.

"Still hanging on," Cade said. He rubbed his eyes."This is so hard, Master
Elwin. I don't want him to go but I don't want him to suffer anymore neither."

"No," Elwin replied. He could not think of any words of comfort, especially
since he needed them for himself.

Cade came closer. "He often talked of you, you know, just with me." His voice
grew soft and he tentatively put a hand on Elwin's arm. "You will come back soon
to continue my fiddle lessons. Please?"

"Yes, Cade, I promised Will as much."

"That's good," Cade said, "because, well, you know, traveling together as we
did, I think I've become fond of you myself," his voice dropped to a whisper,
"in the same way as Granddad was."

"Cade, no . . . ."

"Please, I must get this out or I'll lose my nerve."

"There's nothing to be said."

"Aye, there is, Master Elwin. I must tell you. It's burning up inside me. I
often wondered why I didn't, I mean, why I just never was much interested in
girls. Now I know. I've been thinking about it a lot on this journey. It's been
so hard, lying near you at night. Hearing you and Prince Legolas talking in your
own language so close together under the blanket. I imagined how it was for the
prince. To be holding you, I mean."

With growing alarm, Elwin looked down into Cade's wide, brown eyes staring at
him with limpid adoration. The last week of their journey, he'd sensed a change
in Cade's manner, nervousness when he came near. He would look up and catch Cade
watching him. When Elwin had repositioned Cade's fingers on the violin, the boy
had trembled under his touch. What a fool he'd been not to notice the signs. He
had been too preoccupied with Legolas.

"You can't know what you're talking about, young one," Elwin said.

"I do know," Cade whispered. "I can't help how I feel. I think Granddad
understood about me, even without my saying anything. I know you and he once . .
. ."

"What did he tell you?" Elwin asked sharply.

"Oh, nothing specific. He didn't need to," Cade said. "It was just in these last
months before I went to find you. He talked and I listened and I heard . . .
everything. The secrets that underlie the words, you know. He spoke of your
beauty. Your talent. The sound of your laughter. I know his pet name for you."
The young man was standing very close now and reached out to caress the long
black hair which cascaded down Elwin's chest. "Ravenhair," he said breathlessly.
"I could be like he was to you."

Elwin took hold of Cade's wrist and gently pulled his hand away. "You don't
understand, Cade. I've made a mess of things. It should never have happened.
I love your family with all your joy of life and your musical gifts. I have for
generations, but not in that way. If you persist, I'll have to break my promise
to your Granddad and not come back to visit."

"I am not so blind, Master Elwin. I know you love the prince. I see it in your
eyes when you look at him. But there is something restrained about him when he
looks back at you. It makes me mad. He doesn't deserve you. And now he's run
off, just when you need ‘im."

Elwin's heart trembled. How could a naive human boy see so clearly what he
himself had denied? He covered his face with his hands and then felt the warmth
of Cade's hug. "It's all right, Master Elwin, I can give you what you need."

"Cade!" A deep voice bellowed.

Elwin looked up quickly to see Cade's father standing at the foot of the stairs,
fury distorting his features. The boy jumped a foot away from the elf. "Dad, I
was just comforting Master Elwin. He's upset that his friends left."

"Go up to your room. Now," Tim barked. Cade blanched and then stumbled up the
stairs with a long backward glance at the dark-haired elf.

Timothy came up to Elwin slowly, tapping the bowl of his pipe in his palm. "Dad
always said the elves were so noble, higher and purer than us men. I never
shared his opinion. And lately I've had good cause."

Elwin looked at him questioningly.

"Is it amusing, coming around here spending time with us pitiful mortals? Making
sport of us?" Tim asked.

Elwin shook his head sadly. "Timothy," he said. "You've known me all your life.
I bounced you on my knee when you were a baby. I have never made sport of you
and would never do anything to harm you or your family. I love your family."

"Aye, loved us too well, I'd say." He paused and when Elwin said nothing, he
continued, "Nigh on a year ago, I was cleaning out Dad's things. Came on a diary
that he wrote when a young man. I'm not proud of what I done, but I looked.
Don't need to tell you what I found."

Elwin wondered if there was anyone else in this family who had not discovered
his and Will's secret."That was a mistake which happened long ago, Tim. It won't
be repeated."

"I'll say not.You and your kind aren't welcome here, Master Elwin. I only let
you stay because it meant so much to ‘im. As soon as Dad's passed, I want you to
leave."

"I'd hoped to stay for the burial."

"Nay, already you've worked your poisoned magic on my son. I want you to be gone
and never return." His voice carried a note of finality.

Elwin bowed his head. "As you wish," he said sadly.

Timothy shook the pipe at him. "And as long as you're here, stay away from
Cade," he rumbled.

Elwin looked up to see Thornan standing large and menacing in the parlor
doorway. Tim saw him too and backed away a step.

"Trouble here, Elwin?" the Mirkwood elf asked.

"No, it's all right, Thornan," Elwin replied. He heard the rain drumming on the
roof even harder than before. Then footsteps clattered down the stairs and Cade
reappeared.

"Dad, Master Elwin," he said, his voice shaking. "It's Granddad. He's stopped
breathing."

"Valar," Elwin said softly, putting his hand to his forehead and then over his
heart. He was struck with guilt that he hadn't been there. Nothing was going
right tonight. Swiftly he mounted the stairs, following Cade into Will's room.
He heard Timothy's heavy tread behind him.

Lisbet looked up as they entered and moved her chair aside. Elwin sat swiftly
and put his fingers to Will's neck. There was the faintest flutter of a pulse
and then nothing. He held the back of his hand to Will's parted lips. No
movement. No breath.

The elf bowed his head. Then, unaccountably, he felt a whisper-soft touch move a
strand of hair away from his face. A single clear note sounded from the violin
on the wall as if the string had been plucked. For a moment, a warm, vibrant
presence embraced him and then was gone.

"Farewell William," Elwin said.

-tbc-