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Reunited
by Ereinion
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Rating: R
Pairing: Elrond/Gil-galad
Summary: Elrond arrives on the shores of Valinor, and meets someone he never expected to meet again.

Note: Thanks to Meri, once again, for beta reading. Feedback is welcome at the above email address.


They had seen the ship coming in the distance a day before and now were gathered at the harbor to greet those who had at last made the journey West from Endor to Valinor. The Lady Celebrían stood at the front, hope and worry evident in her eyes and posture. Was her husband yet alive? Her children? Her parents? Would they be on the ship that soon would be moored here?

The reunion that followed between the Lady of Imladris and her Lord was bittersweet, for while her mother and husband had made the journey, her father and children had not. The former citizens of Rivendell greeted Elrond with open arms, as well as the other pilgrims from the East: Galadriel, Lady of Lothlorien; the Maia Olorin, whom the Elves call Mithrandir; Cirdan the Shipwright, Lord of Mithlond; and the hobbits Bilbo and Frodo Baggins of the Shire.

Celebrían and Elrond did not remain among the group for longer than necessary, and jogged together, hand in hand, to a mansion not far from the seaport. Elves murmured through the crowd about how it had been many years since the Peredhel had acted so freely. The rejuvenating magic of Valinor was indeed strong, if it could soften the heart of such a world-weary Elf.

Ereinion, who had once been called Gil-galad, watched all this from a distance, hooded and cloaked, half-hidden by the workshop he peeked around the corner of. Anyone who'd thought to look would've seen the sea-storm of emotion in the former king's eyes, but nobody noticed his presence in the shipyard -- or his absence from the general assembly. He followed the Lord and Lady of Imladris with those sapphire eyes, watching until they disappeared into the large mansion where Celebrían and a number of other descendants of Finwë lived. He lived there too, and now he was wary to return home, for fear of stirring up trouble. Instead, he went for a long walk, in the opposite direction.


Celebrían led her husband through the great, comfortably dark corridor of the mansion. Elrond, still wearing the garb of the office his sons had succeeded him in, was greeted by many Elves who obviously knew Celebrían and were familiar with his own reputation, but he could not place a name with a single face. Some seemed familiar, but for the life of him, he could not recall where he'd seen them in flesh or likeness before. It was all very unsettling.

Celebrían didn't stop leading -- more like dragging -- Elrond until they reached a private sitting room, decorated in shades of blue and black, in what appeared to be the apartment wing of the mansion. She sat him down on a couch, then pirouetted to a nearby sidebar to pour him a cup of tea.

"What was that all about?" Elrond asked incredulously, leaning back into the black, overstuffed leather couch. "I haven't been here fifteen minutes and I'm being accosted by people I barely know."

"They're all glad to finally meet you!" she exclaimed, handing him the cupful of tea . "Valar know I've talked about you enough, and your reputation has indeed preceded you!"

He sighed, still overwhelmed. "If you say so..." He sipped offered drink and leaned into her arms when she sat down. "Ai, but it's been a long journey..." His voice spoke of a longer voyage than the sojourn across the Sea.

"It has been indeed," she replied, cradling him gently. She didn't speak for several long moments, then: "Were they happy, when you saw them last?"

He sighed. "Arwen seemed happy enough, when she left Imladris to be married. But the twins... They love the land of their birth, but I think they might have sailed with me had it not been for their sister. They always were very protective of her."

"And my father?"

"He was loathe to leave his grandchildren in Endor with nobody to talk to."

She made no attempt to hide her sorrow. "Do you think they'll sail later, or remain?"

"That, I do not know, but I am certain that whatever choice one twin makes, the other will follow."

She nodded quietly and stroked his hair when he set his tea aside and turned in her arms to rest his head on her breast.

"I have missed you, vessë," he admitted, relaxing into her embrace.

"And I you, verno," she replied, then sighed another heavy sigh. "There are many things we must discuss. Important things."

He moaned and burrowed closer into her arms, brushing his lips across her neck. "Must we discuss them now? I've waited five-hundred years to be in your arms again..."

"We need to discuss them now. There's someone here you need to meet."

He looked up at her, worried. The thought had never even entered his mind that Celebrían might find comfort here in the arms of another, although they had agreed before she sailed that it would be alright for both of them to take other lovers, since they would be apart for Valar only knew how long.

"No!" she exclaimed, catching wind of his thoughts, and hugged him close. "No, it's not that at all!" She tilted his head up and kissed him thoroughly. "No, Elrond, I've only ever had eyes for you."

"Then who is this person you say I must meet?" he asked, sitting up to look at her.

"Ereinion Gil-galad."


Elrond choked on a lungful of something putrid. Smelling salts, his healer's mind supplied. He opened his eyes, surprised that they were closed in the first place, and found himself laid out on the couch with Celebrían and another elf looking down at him.

"Welcome back," the male elf said. He was dressed in the garb of a lord, in blue and black and grey, with gold-brown hair and dark blue eyes that grinned at him as much as his mouth did.

It was then that Elrond realized that he had fainted. "All Valar," he muttered.

"Of all the varied reactions I've prepared myself for over the past five-hundred years, that was the most unexpected," Celebrían said, also grinning, but more with relief than humor.

"You've no idea how glad I am that Elladan isn't here right now," he groaned softly as he sat up. Celebrían handed him the still-warm tea from the oak side table, and he took a long sip gratefully.

The male elf smiled at Celebrían. "I think you've got things well in hand here. If you'll excuse me, I need to find my grandson."

"You've not seen him today?" she asked, worry tingeing her voice.

"I've not seen him since they brought word yesterday that a ship was in sight." He chuckled. "If he's not in the house or the shipyard, he's probably out walking somewhere. I'd get worried if he's not back after dinner." He shook his head, smiling softly as he stood. "You think your lord husband has cold feet. Try putting yourself in Ereinion's shoes." He bowed politely to the pair and took his leave.

Elrond, meanwhile, was certain that he'd woken up in the wrong reality. "Was that... ?" he asked cautiously.

"Nolofinwë Aracáno." Celebrían supplied the name in it's original Quenya. "He is the master of this house."

Elrond looked into his teacup and decided that tonight would require something a lot stronger than tea, then got up and went to the obsidian-topped bar to pour himself some brandy. "That was... ?"

"Yes."

"The same one who called Melkor out?"

"Yes."

He didn't respond, only downed some of his drink.

She fluffed the chenille pillows on the couch and stretched out. "Come here," she requested, holding her arms out. He studied her for a few moments before setting the drink aside and curling up with her. She enfolded him in her arms, and he relaxed with a weary sigh.

"Everyone was so surprised that you didn't die with him," Celebrían began. "There were never any illusions between us, nin meleth. I knew who your heart and soul belonged to when I spoke my vow. I knew it wasn't within my power to change that, and even if it had been, I wouldn't have tried. I never wanted to make you forget him; I knew you never would. I just wanted you to live in the present and not the past."

Elrond snuggled closer, wrapping his arms around her. His head seemed to swim with all that had happened in such a short time. "Can we please talk about this later?" he asked weakly.

"Yes," she answered softly, stroking his hair like she'd done with her children when they were upset. "Just rest. All this will be here for us to deal with later."

Elrond nodded and closed his eyes, but did not sleep for a long time, even after he felt Celebrían fall asleep beneath him. His mind was filled with Ereinion and times long past.


They had been friends since the War of Wrath, had seen each other through anguish and elation. They'd founded Lindon together as friends, watched with pride as Lindon Hall was erected, lived under the same roof for years upon years. It was difficult for him to pinpoint exactly when he started to feel such a deep and powerful love for his comrade, but he could remember the very moment he realized such feelings existed.

It was at the feast honoring the five-hundredth anniversary of the founding of Lindon, in the year 491 of the Second Age. All sorts of dignitaries from other elven realms were there. Things had gone better than expected all night -- until he saw them kiss.

He was an officer from Lothlorien, one of King Amdir's march-wardens, and he was handsome and highly-decorated for his service. He and Elrond had paired off early on, which wasn't strange for the King's Herald. Elrond was handsome, powerful, and eligible, and he enjoyed being seen in public with similarly credentialed elves of both sexes.

No, what had angered Ereinion was that Elrond obviously enjoyed the officer's kisses, and Ereinion knew from his own experience in playing the same game that the two would likely be sharing a bed that night. Before he himself even knew it, Ereinion had hauled the officer out of Elrond's embrace by the collar, growled at him scathingly, and stormed off. Cirdan had told him later what he had said to the march-warden, for once the rage passed, Ereinion could not remember his own words. He had said, "Remember whose house it is you're in, and see to it that you do not take liberties that aren't yours to take." Then he'd put the poor elf down -- for he'd lifted him a good four inches off the ground to meet his eyes -- and took flight, leaving Elrond visibly shocked and the officer shaking in his boots and clinging to the herald for support. Ereinion had given him a glare the likes of which would not be used again for a very long time.

Elrond had, of course, demanded an explanation before morning council the next day. Justification, he'd charged, was the very least Ereinion could give him, having deprived him of his enjoyment and embarrassed him in front of almost every elf of title and power in Endor. And if it was such a matter of honor, he'd continued, then he had no problems with challenging Ereinion to a duel. He was of more than sufficient rank.

Ereinion hadn't slept at all following the incident. He'd spent the night in thought and deep reflection, and had personally written a letter of apology to the Lothlorien officer. The letter had included a note for generous compensation from the royal treasury, which prompted an incensed Elrond to further accuse him of bribery. While the king had expected Elrond to be upset, he had not prepared for such an onslaught.

"There you are."

Ereinion jumped and spun around, his reverie shattered by Fingolfin's unexpected words. How the elf had managed to find him among the myriad caves in the cliffs surrounding the harbor, he could never fathom. "Grandfather," he greeted with a brief bow of his head.

"You weren't in your chambers; I thought something might be amiss."

Ereinion snorted. "Amiss does not begin to describe the situation I have found myself in." He turned away, looking out to the sea, staring at the entrancing, wine-dark depths. The sea breeze whistled softly past the cave mouth, rustling through Ereinion's hair and causing his heavy, velvet cloak to flutter.

"You can't hide from him forever," Fingolfin informed him, resting a hand on the dark-haired elf's shoulder. He was taller than Ereinion by over half a foot, towering almost seven feet in the air. He was tall for a Noldo, though many of the bright-haired Vanyar were taller still. His presence, while certainly imposing, was uncommonly soothing to those who knew him well. His wisdom and experience were highly regarded by all the Elves in Valinor; of all the Eldar who ever went to Mandos, his stay in the Halls was the shortest.

Ereinion sighed. "My heart is greatly troubled. But of course you already know this."

"Walk with me," Fingolfin said after a moment, turning to head back to the great house. "I think a hot meal will do you good." Ereinion followed silently, looking over his shoulder at the sea for a brief time before turning back and catching up with his grandfather.


The two former High Kings spoke earnestly for the next few hours of anxieties and concerns great and small: everything from Celebrían's feelings in the matter, to the social and political ramifications of bonding to a married elf, to the possibility that Elrond might prefer to stay with his wife. They may have conversed well into the night had the dinner bell not stopped them, and while both had taken a small meal earlier, neither of them were satisfied enough to skip evening repast.

They entered the dining hall together, Fingolfin in his robes of royal blue and black and Ereinion in a fine tunic and trousers of the same colors, and were seated together at the great table. Both noted the absence of the Lady Celebrían and her husband. Ereinion, for the most part, was relieved.

"Let's bring them a meal," Fingolfin suggested after dinner, calling for one of the cooks to put together two platters of food. Before Ereinion could escape, his grandfather had all but shoved one of the covered trays into his hands. "Come on now; step lively, lad!"

Fingolfin had the infuriatingly annoying ability to make Ereinion feel like a newly-punished teenager.

"Yes, sir," the younger elf replied flatly, following behind his grandfather as he moved through the corridors of the mansion. They stopped at the door to Celebrían's chambers, and Fingolfin knocked. He listened for a moment and, hearing neither response nor any audible indication that perhaps he should come back later, he turned the knob and peeked discreetly inside the room. The lord and lady were curled up together on the couch, asleep.

Ereinion hesitantly looked past Fingolfin's shoulder, holding on tightly to the silver tray so that he wouldn't drop it. Elrond was even more beautiful than he remembered. His love seemed peaceful, content. Somehow that calmed a bit of the storm in his heart.

After a long moment of just watching the former Lord and Lady of Imladris, Fingolfin slipped inside the room, setting his tray on the bar and gesturing for Ereinion to help him move a low table closer to the couch. Ereinion likewise set his burden aside and silently helped move the oak coffee table from its place near the hearth, and then placed the two covered platters on the relocated furniture.

Fingolfin moved to the door, but paused when he realized that Ereinion lingered beside the couch. He watched as his grandson took off the royal blue velvet that hung from his shoulders and tucked the cloak lovingly around Elerondo Pareldar and Celebrían I Vanima. He left something that Fingolfin couldn't identify on the table, then silently stepped away from them and moved to the door. The younger elf paused to look back at the sleeping couple, then slipped past his grandfather and down the hallway. Fingolfin closed the door quietly behind them.


Celebrían woke first, annoyed at herself for falling asleep in her sitting room. Her stomach growled, and she knew without looking at the clock that she'd missed dinner. She turned her head to see how late it was -- and found that someone had left a meal on the table for her and the adorably cumbersome oaf on top of her. One of the things they'd discovered early on in their marriage was that this position didn't work for extended periods. Elrond had the grace and longevity of an elf, but he was not light.

"Elrond, wake up," she said with a soft wheeze. She tried with little success to shift beneath him. "Get off me; I can't breathe," she ordered, with only a hint of a whimper. He didn't wake up fast enough, so she pulled a lock of his hair to get her point across. Elrond's immediate, instinctive reaction to this Age-old marital custom was to roll over, reversing their position on the couch so that Celebrían was on top. "Sorry," he mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Wake up, peredhel," she said, poking him repeatedly in the diaphragm. "Someone brought us food." She smiled as she scooted off of him with the same graceful motion he took in sitting up. Like his sons and his true-love, he wasn't one to miss a chance for a meal.

"I'm sorry," he said again, rubbing his eyes. "It's been a long time since I laid down with someone who couldn't support my weight."

"Don't worry about it," she responded with an understanding smile that faded into a look of curiosity when she noticed the blue velvet that was still draped halfway over her husband. She reached over to inspect it. "This wasn't here before."

"Maybe our nurturing spirit left it with us," he mused, his eyes moving to a glint of metal on the coffee table. He reached over and picked it up, turning the sigil-ring over in his hand and staring for a long time at the jewel-encrusted device on the face. Ereinion's personal device, twelve stars on a field of blue. Diamond and sapphire, Ereinion's gemstones of choice, set in mithril. He sighed. "I think it's time we had that discussion you were talking about."

She nodded silently, taking the ring from him and putting it on the first finger of his left hand, so that it lay next to the gold and sapphire of the now-lifeless Vilya. "Where shall we begin?" she asked softly, moving away to serve his meal.

"The beginning, I suppose. Only I'm not sure where the beginning is."

"Then I will start five-hundred years ago, or what would seem to be five-hundred years to you, for time passes differently here in Aman and to me it has not been that long." She set her own tray on her lap and speared a morsel with her fork, collecting her thoughts before she spoke.

"I arrived on these shores numb and heart-sick. I would have been sent to my mother's father, Arafinwë, Finarfin, but his house is quite a long journey from here and Nolofinwë, Fingolfin, took me in. It was Fingolfin who tended my heart-sickness when I first arrived.

"Ereinion and I met many days after, when I'd just begun to venture out from these very rooms. Fingolfin had not intended for he and I to meet so early on, but it turned out for the best. You see, the love between you and Ereinion is legendary in all the corners of Valinor, but our marriage is also known to the people of the Blessed Realm. It surprised me greatly to learn that Ereinion approved of our bond. We became close friends in a matter of days. He recounted to me what I had suspected was the case since before we two were married: that he had gone to my parents before the Battle of Dagorlad and entered into marriage negotiations with them."

Elrond nodded, acknowledging the fact of the statement. "He and I had agreed that it would be prudent for him to marry and produce an heir, and he entered into negotiations long before Dagorlad, but everything was upset when Sauron attacked Minas Ithil. Erei poured his heart and soul into making the Great Alliance work, and by the time he got to thinking about marriage again, there wasn't much of a point in him marrying only to march off to war."

She nodded also, continuing the story. "So before the army marched, he went to my parents again. He suggested, and they agreed, that if he survived the war then he would have my hand in marriage. If he did not, then you would, and if you both died then Mother would be High Queen anyway." She gave a soft sigh, not speaking the next part. They both knew what had happened.

"Ereinion said he was glad that you grew to love me," she continued, "and he said I did the right thing in making you focus your attention on the present. He didn't want you to suffer, or waste your energy pining for him. His love for you was -- and is -- so strong that he was willing to give you up in order to see you happy." She paused, watching Elrond twist the sigil-ring on his finger. "He and I discussed this eventuality long ago, and we agreed that we should let you choose the path your life should take."

He looked up at her then, fearful and uncertain, anxious about the choice they had put before him. "And what are your feelings about this?" he asked, when at last he found his voice.

"I know he loves you," she answered, "and I know you still love him, and while I had my own selfish motives in marrying you, I never hoped or intended to come between that. We had a good life together, Elrond. We were happy and prosperous. You gave me three beautiful children who have all found their own path in life. I'm content with that. But your true-love was ripped away from you horrifically, and you've lived for an Age with those wounds in your heart and soul, wounds that I knew from the beginning I couldn't heal. I would not begrudge you the chance to finally heal those wounds and procure for yourself the happiness that I experienced in two-and-a-half thousand years of marriage."

He smiled sadly. "I was never unhappy with you, Celebrían."

"But I wasn't Ereinion," she reminded him, "and I have never stopped believing that it is with Ereinion that you truly belong."

"So, if it was your choice, you would have me go back to him."

"Yes. But since it is your choice, I am telling you that I won't be hurt if you choose him over me, and, in fact, I would encourage such a joining."

"And what of you? I was never blind to your feelings for me."

"Like Ereinion, I love you enough to let you go in order to see you truly happy. If I am meant to love another, then I will love another, and if not, I have memories of a long and beautiful marriage to fall back on."

He reached over and took her hands in both of his, quietly amazed at how small and light-skinned hers were in comparison to his own.. "Memories are never enough, Celebrían. Trust me; I know. I would have faded and died if it hadn't been for you and your bright light."

"Then I will love another, one day," she amended quietly.

He squeezed her hands gently. "And what of our vows, spoken before the Valar? Such a bond is indestructible, even if both parties wish it dissolved. And our people marry once only."

"I do not believe that the Valar are unmerciful. The love of Elrond and Ereinion is known to Them, and to The One, as it is known to all creatures here. They can see into all our hearts. I think that They will know this is right, just as we know it is. There is no hate or ill-will involved at all in this, only pure and unending love."

Elrond leaned forward, careful of the trays on their laps, and kissed her slowly and tenderly on the mouth. "Then I choose Ereinion," he said softly, "but not before I give us both one last memory." The half-eaten meals were set aside, and Celebrían soon found herself in her husband's arms. They kissed slowly, patiently, caressing one another with lingering touches, exploring in the familiar and unhurried way of old lovers, until Celebrían gently pulled away and led Elrond to her bedroom.


Elrond woke lazily the next morning, warmed by Celebrían's presence in his arms. Their lovemaking had been slow and satisfying, lasting almost until first light. He estimated he'd only had a handful of hours of sleep, and yet he felt deeply rested and at peace. He'd needed this, he knew in his heart. They both had. Their last parting had been so awkward and full of uncertainty that Celebrían hadn't even let him kiss her their last night together. He'd given her the space she so strongly desired and slept on the couch outside the guest-room Cirdan had provided them with. He'd cried the whole night, and Celebrían sailed into the West the next morning.

She snuggled closer to him. "I cried too," she murmured softly, following his thoughts through their marital bond once again. "I cried myself to sleep only to wake and cry some more. I cried on the ship too, and for my first several days here."

He wrapped his arm around her. "I stayed on the shore long after the children had left to prepare for the journey home, watching the ship in the distance. Elrohir said I was crying when he summoned me to leave, but I do not remember. I cried every night on the road, when they couldn't see me. I cried when I returned to our room in the manor, and for several nights after."

"Perhaps we felt one another's sorrow." She pressed a gentle kiss to the flesh beneath her lips, over his heart. "This is not the end."

"I know," he answered with a soft sigh, "but it is a great change, and not one I came here expecting to make."

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Refreshed," he answered. "Peaceful." Then he chuckled. "A little bit on-edge."

She smiled. "We've got time before lunch. I should take you to your room, let you get ready for the day. Ereinion usually takes luncheon with the children he tutors, but I can have him meet you somewhere after that."

He nodded, silently acknowledging her suggestion before asking, "How do you feel?"

"Same as you. It's a great change, and even though I've been expecting it for five-hundred years, it's still a great change."

"I love you," he murmured simply.

"And I you, dearest husband," she replied, leaning up and kissing him sweetly. "Now come, your lord awaits you." She crawled over him and out of the bed, tossing him his discarded clothes and pulling on her own. "Your apartment is nearby, but it's actually closer to Ereinion's room than mine. That's where your belongings were taken," she added, knowing he would wonder.

"I brought some things of Ereinion's," he told her as he dressed, "things from Lindon and from the museum in Imladris. I had intended to keep them for myself or have them put in a collection, but now..." He trailed off, knowing Celebrían would understand his meaning.

She nodded, tugging him into the sitting room as soon as he was decently covered. She tossed him Ereinion's velvet cloak. "Here. You can give it back to him." She was smiling broadly. He smiled back, slinging the fabric over one arm as his wife led him to his own apartment.


As promised, Elrond's belongings had been brought to his apartment, which, like Celebrían's, was decorated in blue and black. A large coat of arms hung over the hearth, finely embroidered with his personal device on a field of royal blue, trimmed in silver. Celebrían's handiwork, he realized. He was honored; it must've taken her years to finish.

"You certainly pack light," the other joked mildly, gesturing to the luggage and the many storage chests.

"What's the point in being royalty if you can't bring half the castle with you on trips?" he debated, using one of Ereinion's favorite arguments for packing everything but the kitchen sink.

She grinned, then went to the pile of luggage and opened one, the spell that locked it still responding to her touch and intent, and sorted through the neatly folded clothes until she found an outfit suitable for such a reunion as the one about to take place. Elrond looked on, amused.

Celebrían set the clothes out on the bed in the next room and drew a bath for her husband, undressing him and getting him settled in the warm water just as quickly as she'd had him dress in the first place.

"Are you to be my attendant, then?" he queried warmly, smiling up at her from the relaxing, scented water. She smiled back fondly. "I suppose so." Her arms went around his shoulders. "I want today to be perfect for you," she said more seriously.

"It already is," he told her, resting his head on her breast once more and letting her wash him. Her skin still smelled of sweat and spent passion, and her heartbeat was pleasingly relaxing beneath his ear.

Celebrían washed Elrond's body and hair, then lovingly dried him off and helped him dress. She brushed and styled his hair in a manner that was both simple and casually elegant, much like the garments she'd selected. Other adornments she kept at a minimum, sparing only Vilya and the sigil-ring. The diadem of Imladris remained in storage.

"Beautiful and comfortable," she said with a smile once she was finished, turning him around to look in a full-length mirror, not hiding a grin when he started to preen.

"It's been many years since I could get away with dressing so casually," he murmured.

"I know," she responded. "Welcome home."

He sighed, wrapping an arm around her. "Did I ever tell you how I first knew I loved Erei?" She shook her head 'no', and he smiled softly. "There was a gala for the five-hundredth anniversary of the founding of Lindon. Everybody who was anybody was there. I'd paired off a very handsome march-warden under King Amdir's command. It's been so long now, I can't recall his name except in dreams. In any case, Ereinion did not take the liking to him that I did. He physically ripped him out of my arms during a kiss, threatened him, gave him a glare to stop a Balrog, and stormed off. I was outraged, quite naturally, and demanded an explanation. He stared me down as if I was some underling rather than his friend, cousin, and heir and told me that he didn't have to explain himself to me and to get out of his office before he had me removed. We neither spoke nor tolerated the other's presence for the next four days.

"I was actually packing to leave Lindon Hall when he had a messenger summon me to his chambers. It was late, and he'd been drinking. The first words out of his mouth after the steward left were 'I'm sorry'. I asked him what in the world he'd been thinking that night, and he answered, 'How much I love you'. I couldn't respond to that. It didn't register in my mind how he could say he loved me and yet show such anger and disdain for such innocent actions." He sighed. "And after about fifteen seconds, he turned away as if he'd done something horribly wrong in saying what he had, and the realization that followed hurt to the point of physical pain. It was no secret that he loved me; we were like brothers. But it shocked and astounded me to realize that he was in love with me. And then I was so charmed and flattered that I didn't know what to do. And then there was this sound, like someone was choking, and my heart skipped two beats to realize that he'd started to cry. That was when I knew that I was in love with him too, because I wanted to hold him close and kiss his tears away."

"And did you?" she asked curiously.

He smiled softly, remembering. "Yes."

Celebrían said nothing, but her heart was warmed by the tale. The clock in the sitting room struck the noon hour, and they both returned their focus to the present. Celebrían reached over and handed Elrond the velvet cloak, then retrieved from the luggage a tall, thin object wrapped in leather and canvas. She handed this to her husband also. "I'll have him meet you in the library. It's quiet there, and nobody will bother you.  She gave him directions to the place, then went to find her friend.


Lunch was always an interesting affair. Sometimes it was quiet or filled with academic discussion, sometimes it was a breeding ground for food fights, and sometimes it was a battle with short breaks for food and drink.

Today, it was a battle. And Ereinion was losing. Miserably.

He was being chased across the practice yard by five teenaged elflings who, like all males their age, were fast growing into the strong bodies of young elf-men, and who, like all males their age, didn't always know their own strength. Today, it seemed, their game of Tag had turned into a rousing round of Beat Up The Teacher. Ereinion had fought himself out of being surrounded twice already, and it appeared that he would surely be beat into the dirt this time when Celebrían arrived to rescue him. One of the younger elflings spotted her first and sounded the alarm, at which time Ereinion found himself hauled off the ground, dusted off, and pushed in front of the line of teenagers, who were now arranged according to class standing.

There were days when Ereinion's fine ability at teaching young elves the arts of chivalry and martial discipline just didn't pay.

"Hard at work, I see, Erei," she said with a charming smile.

"The sting of defeat is just as important as the thrill of victory." He stepped forward and gave a simple bow, a gesture which was repeated by the boys behind him.

"Well, if I could possibly speak with you for a few moments...?"

"Always," he said with a smile. He turned back to the boys. "As you were." The teenagers promptly chased one another back to the picnic table where their meals were set out. When his gaze returned to Celebrían, the confidant facade was gone, replaced by genuine nervousness. "Well?"

"He's in the library."

"And?"

"And, he's chosen you."

He was elated to hear that, but wasn't certain if he should express that in front of the one Elrond had left for him.

Celebrían chuckled. "It's alright to be happy, you know. Nothing's changed since we talked about this years ago. I'm happy for you both, truly."

He hugged her tightly, and the embrace was returned gladly. "Shall I clear your schedule for you?" she asked. "Isn't today music day?"

He nodded. "Yes, I'd appreciate that; thanks."

She let go of him and gently pushed him toward the house. "Go on, go to him."

Ereinion smiled and did as he was told.


Elrond waited for a while before resigning himself to pacing and fidgeting, which he thought idiotic in the first place. It wasn't as if this was someone new. This was Ereinion, whom he'd known for almost two Ages. He nearly leaped out of his skin when he heard the large doors open. He peeked out from behind one of the large bookcases, and his heart skipped a beat. His lover and king was even more handsome now than he had been before. It comforted him to see that Ereinion was at least as nervous as he was; he was twisting a ring on his finger.

Elrond waited until Erei was a few bookcases down from him, then stepped into the aisle. The sapphire-eyed elf stopped in his tracks.

"I believe this belongs to you," Elrond said with a soft smile, holding out the cloak.

Ereinion smiled and took it, wrapping it loosely about his shoulders. "How do you feel?"

He sighed. "Tired. Worn out. But hopeful, very hopeful."

Ereinion nodded, seeming to understand exactly what his love was feeling. "Part of it's Vilya," he said softly. "You never realize how much you came to depend on her strength until she's gone. I felt it too, with Vilya and Narya both." He stepped closer. "But part of it's the weight of your own years, and, I suspect, the loss of your family. Celebrían spoke of children, twin sons and a daughter, but I did not see them emerge from the ship."

Elrond sighed. "Arwen has given her heart to a mortal, a descendant of Elros, who is now king of the Reunited Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor. Elladan and Elrohir chose to remain and become the Lords of Imladris. Their love for Endor is great, but their love for their sister is greater still. I do not know if they will attempt the voyage West. But their grandfather is with them. Perhaps he'll persuade them to make the journey."

"If they are anything like you," he said softly, "then they will keep their own counsel on such matters." It was better to let Elrond down gently, to allow him no illusions, in case the twins really didn't come back to him.

Elrond sighed, moving into an embrace that Ereinion willingly offered. "They are very much like me," he said, his voice both proud and sorrowful. "Elrohir is the healer and Elladan the warrior, and they are both scholars in their own right. They will decide together. I shall either see both of them again, or neither."

Ereinion gently ran his hands up and down Elrond's back, soothing his love without words. He marveled at how young Elrond looked when he wasn't wearing robes of state. He looked much like he had when they first met as adults, wearing comfortable black trousers and a cream colored shirt, with a royal blue vest that hadn't been buttoned. His hair was down, braided in small braids at the temples and down the back. "You're beautiful," he murmured softly.

Elrond smiled softly and snuggled closer. "And the Valar have been very kind to you, indeed," he replied warmly. "Which reminds me..." He withdrew from the embrace and retrieved the wrapped spear from its resting place by one of the bookshelves. "After an Age of being a museum piece, I thought you might want her back."

The former king reached out and took the offered weapon, unknotting the ties on the canvas and leather that kept the mithril blade protected and running his fingers across the Quenya inscription like it was an old friend. "If only you knew how I wondered what had become of Aeglos..."

"Celebrían obviously did," he said with a soft smile. "She shoved it into my hands on the way out."

He chuckled, replacing the cover on the spearhead and loosely tying it once more. "I think my students are going to get a workout tomorrow," he mused aloud. "Providing I decide to show up tomorrow." Without warning he pulled Elrond back into his arms.

Elrond squeaked in surprise but laughed, wrapping his arms around his love's neck. "I wouldn't mind disappearing with you for a while. We've got a lot of catching up to do."

"Then let's start with this," Ereinion murmured, leaning down to kiss the other. Their first kiss was slow and tender, and Elrond melted into it, purring lowly. It was real. At long last, his dreams were real.

The kiss lasted for several long moments, until finally they were both breathless and their eyes shone with desire for more. "Come with me," Ereinion whispered against his love's lips. "I know a place." Elrond could only nod, and Ereinion took his hand and led him out of the library, moving through the hallways to his own room. Once they were safely inside, Ereinion pressed his lover against the thick, wooden door and kissed him again. "Tell me if I go to fast," he warned.

"If you slow down, I'll kill you," Elrond answered without thinking, then blushed. "Sorry."

Ereinion chuckled. "I'll be sure to say hello to everyone for you." Like most other elves who were on their second life, he tended to make light of death.

"We certainly have a lot to talk about later," Elrond murmured.

"Emphasis on later," Ereinion growled, pressing himself against his friend and kissing him passionately once more. "Ai," he purred, "nin bain melethron..."

Elrond smiled beneath Ereinion's mouth. "Nin brannon... Nin meleth..." He reached up and began to disrobe his lover, slowly and familiarly, much as it had been the past night with Celebrían. But this was different. There was a thrill of the unknown in this act that he'd not felt with his wife. It felt familiar, and yet all very new.

Ereinion untied the newly-returned cloak, letting it slip from his shoulders and fall to his feet, doing the same with his shirt as Elrond finished unbuttoning it. They held onto one another as they toed off their shoes, and without even really thinking about it, they reversed roles; Ereinion discarded his kinsman's vest and pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it aside. Fingers caressed now-exposed skin, tracing over deep scars from the battlefield, brushing over newer, unfamiliar ones. "What's this from?" he asked, his fingers moving over a sickle-shaped scar over Elrond's heart.

"A... a large Gondolin vase," he answered, trying to think through the building haze of desire. "When Elladan was little, he climbed into a bookcase and slipped, knocking the vase over. I caught him, but the vase had broken on its way down and we were both hit. He has a similar one on his chest also. It was... rather deep." 'Rather deep' didn't begin to describe it; the toddler had almost died from the wound and he himself spent more time than he cared to admit to recovering in the healer's hall.

Ereinion leaned over and kissed the whitened mark, then moved to another. "And this was from when you took an arrow for me at Dagorlad." He kissed that scar too.

"You've no scars for me to kiss," Elrond said softly. "None that are familiar, anyway." He traced a long, wide scar across his lover's upper arm. "What's this from?"

Ereinion chuckled softly. "Falling out of a tree," he admitted. "Most of them are from that."

"You fell out of a tree?" Elrond asked disbelieving. Elves were creatures of nature. They didn't just fall out of trees.

He smirked. "It was in the middle of a storm. I was thirty-six, brooding, and stubborn as a mule. I was climbing down and misjudged how far it was to the ground. And the slippery bark didn't help any, either. Some experiences, it seems, I am meant to have in every life. I didn't even remember the first time it happened until after I woke up in the healer's hall the second time. And then I really felt stupid."

Elrond chuckled. "I seem to recall Cirdan mentioning a 'climbing accident' once, long ago. It seems the Valar constantly need to remind you to be humble."

Ereinion childishly stuck his tongue out, and Elrond took that opportunity to kiss the former king once more, both of them laughing softly. The former lord of Imladris sank forward into his lover's arms, his own encircling Ereinion's neck, and Lindon's founder picked him up, carrying him into the bedroom and setting him down in the large, luxurious bed.

It was so familiar and comforting to both of them, the loving gestures that passed unspoken between them. There was no fear or doubt, no apprehension. There was no past or future, only Elerondo and Ereinion and the moment. Ereinion crawled into the bed, taking a place beside his lover, kissing and caressing him. They finished undressing one another, tossing the garments aside and met in a warm, soul-healing embrace.

"I love you," one of them whispered, and Ereinion didn't know if they were Elrond's words or his own. It didn't really matter anyway, for the warmth and respect and perfect trust between them spoke far more than the words of any tongue could convey.

"Make love with me," one of them whispered, and Elrond knew it was his voice because he could hear his own accent. There was no reply; there didn't need to be.

Their joining was slow, joyful, full of laughter and love-words and moans of pleasure. They spoke their vows between kisses and their shared climax was like waves upon the shore: first crashing, then rolling, then lapping with ever-decreasing intensity as the tide went out. And when it was over, the two lovers were breathless and sated in one another's arms, snuggling close to enjoy the afterglow together.

"Welcome home, Elerondo," Ereinion said in his softly lilting, cultured voice.

"Home is wherever you are, husband," Elrond replied, snuggling closer to his new spouse.

The End

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