Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Elrond/Gil-galad
Summary: Glorfindel 1st person POV. Elrond’s excessive mourning forces a frustrated Glorfindel into action.
Notes: Thanks for Tal for caring enough to hunt this story down.
I had endured enough of this epic nonsense.
What was wrong with everyone around me? When I finally spoke to her, Celebrian merely rolled her sky-blue eyes at me and claimed she didn't want hear my frustration since, frankly, she didn't care. I shouldn't feel surprised; she knew how deeply my emotions ran toward her husband. Of course she mistrusted me.
When I voiced my anger before council, Erestor merely looked sad and worried before wringing his long fingers in his classic manner. The rest of the council stared at me as if I was some sacrilegious interloper. How dare they act so! I dwelled at their Lord's side for centuries. I owned a right to question what was going on!
The children, well, I shouldn't call them children, but that's what they would always be to me, acted frightened and refused to enter Elrond's suite with me.
Fine. If all of Imladris felt afraid to take action, then any action fell to me. No, I wasn't looking forward to facing someone's fiery wrath but nor was I content with letting this event occur year after year. We endured the trauma for centuries and now each passing year saw the grief grow more and more intense. Perhaps I was a stubborn old Elf; for me, as time passed grief grew less, not more intense.
Then again Elrond was a different Elf, yes, different from all others still alive. He ran deeper and more introspective than others. At times I felt Elrond operated on a mystical plane not known to most Elves. Yet what frightened me the most was, as time passed, I wondered if Elrond truly wanted to live. Each year he celebrated, if I could use such a joyous word to describe such a bleak event, our dear Gil-galad's passing. At first it was merely a quiet toast to our departed High King and talk of what had once been. That observation seemed harmless enough to me. I did not mind speaking of our mighty King and his many positive traits.
Unfortunately as time passed, when the day of sorrow arrived, suddenly Elrond locked himself away for a day. Now, after these hundreds of years, the grieving grew into something well beyond my warrior's basic comprehension. Last year Elrond locked himself in his suite for a solid week. When Elrond finally emerged, he seemed pale and distracted for months, his concentration and manner vastly corrupted. This year I swore my friend looked almost eager to lock himself away and mourn in solitude.
I truly feared for Elrond's unusually intelligent mind. Now after ten days of strange mourning, I decided enough. If Elrond cast his cruel wrath upon me for disrupting his mourning, so be it. I found this epic mourning distasteful and unnatural. Did I mope around mourning the demise of Gondolin and Turgon's death? Nay. Did I mourn myself? Ha, that would be folly because I was now back and vital as ever. Did I accuse my dear Lord of carrying self-pity too far? Not at all. Strong Elrond was not the type of Elf to indulge in self-pity. That is why I could not comprehend his deeply bizarre behavior.
As I marched up the carved stairs leading to my Lord's suite of rooms, I glared at the intricately carved door depicting a scene of Imladris in all her stately glory. I knew when Elrond went into this bizarre mourning state, he called upon his earth magic, a little known aspect of his craft, and warded his doors against casual intrusion. Since Elrond stored his most precious herbs and documents in the small study in his suite, he often used these earth runes as one further step beyond merely locking his doors.
Happily I stood behind Elrond enough times to memorize his careful rune system. Of course if my suspicious Lord had changed it, I would be calling upon Mithrandir or Saruman to come help me. I feared only an Istari could conquer any of Elrond's runes.
Now to begin. There were ten key points across the door that must be touched in quick succession. Before I acted, my eyes traced the path over and over. Something told me that if I failed the first time, a fail-safe would click in and add another rune layer. Wily Elrond would think in such methodical terms.
All right. Relax and let all the tension flow from your fingers. After I released my pent-up breath, I swiftly applied my fingers across the carving. Main waterfall, tall spindle rock, bridge, secondary waterfall, wide beech tree, council chamber, main waterfall again, ancient pine to the right, slender beech, distant waterfall. Stepping back I glared at the wood, willing it to do something. A gentle click rewarded my efforts. Thank the Valar my friend had not changed the wards. Pushing open the heavy door I stepped into the outer sitting room. I always loved how Elrond's shadowy suite smelled; a variety of exotic herbs and clever mysteries greeted a visitor's nostrils. Somehow the aroma smelled like learning.
Despite my anger, a small smile curved my lips. Yes, when in Elrond's suite, I felt a little more alert and excited, as if my ancient brain experienced revitalization. I savored the sensation.
Walking slowly I entered the short corridor leading to Elrond's study and bathroom. Before them dwelled the room I was concerned with, my Lord's bedroom. This shut door displayed scenes from Elrond's memories of once-glorious Lindon. I knew this door would prove more stubborn. I had only seen Elrond undo a ward here once. Was my memory sound enough?
Wait. Perhaps Elrond never warded this door. Instead of fretting, act logical and try the knob.
See? The knob twisted and the door clicked open. After I shook my head in self-mockery, I quietly entered the dim room. Elrond had shut the violet silk drapes covering the balcony doors and windows. A strange musty odor, far removed from the rest of the suite, assaulted my offended nostrils. My feet slowly slid toward the right, then my fingers gripped the table resting before the cold fireplace. Yes, the ornate silver candelabra still sat there along with sandstone and a strike stone. One smooth gesture lit the middle candle. I used the flame to light the others.
In the dim glow I saw a male shape resting on the grand carved bed. Well, now I knew my Lord still occupied his room. First let's open the drapes. Skirting the bed's foot I made my way to the drapes and pulled them open, allowing the sun to enter this place of mourning.
A brave long ray of golden light stretched across the room and flowed onto the bed. The beam ended directly on Elrond's naked chest.
My stunned eyes followed the beam's trail.
No.
What was I seeing?
Elrond sprawled on his mattress, his long lean body paler than I had ever seen. Instead of displaying his normal flesh tint, now his skin looked almost ivory. His strong arms clutched tight across his firm chest as if he embraced someone close against his flesh. But who? Controlling my unease I stepped closer.
The expression suffusing Elrond's pale handsome face was one of exquisite ecstasy. But why?
For some reason the strangely out of place expression made my stomach perform a slow roll, like I was trapped upon the deck of a ship caught in a devastating storm. That expression felt so wrong.
Why did Elrond look so deathly yet ecstatic? What did I see here?
My uncertain voice croaked out his name. “Elrond?’ Bah, of course my effort had absolutely no effect.
Tapping my foot I stood there and examined my dear friend. My mind wondered what to do next? Very well, warrior, you were here and so was Elrond. Should I wake him up? The trouble was I could tell this was not mere sleep. Elrond appeared to be in a strange trance. Now how did mourning his long lost...
By the Sickle of the Valar! No!
Fierce alarm pounded within me. Dropping to the bed I gripped his strong shoulders and hissed at him. “Elrond! Elrond, what are you doing? Gil-galad is dead! You are still alive! Elrond, stop!’ As I spoke, I vigorously shook his limp body.
No response.
Was I going mad or... no, the tragic idea made sense. Elrond looked forward to his mourning since he willed himself to be with his long dead lover! Was there a parting in the Halls of Mandos that allowed these two to communicate on a spiritual level? Yes, I had escaped Mandos, but I was sent back from that place. Why? I never questioned, no, I only rejoiced in returning to the physical world I adored so much. Now I wondered why I had been sent back. Was it to save Elrond as I had saved his Father? The notion shook my soul.
But did Elrond escape across to join his beloved Gil-galad? Had he located a plane so he could see his beloved again? Did the event of his lover's death create a breech? Gods, this was beyond my wildest nightmares! I was a warrior, not a wizard!
How could I fight against such a seductive spiritual pull? As I almost descended into despair, suddenly a vast stillness spread across my terror. Ah, I could think of one ultimate way. Gripping Elrond close against me I stared into his wide unfocused eyes. All right. We had danced around this painful moment for long enough. I had held back from telling Elrond just how much I adored him. No longer. “Elrond! This is madness! Listen to me! Gil-galad has passed! You can see him again if or when or... Elrond, for now you must remain in Middle Earth! Imladris needs you. Your children need you. And... Gods, how I need you. Are you going to make me plead with you? How heartless of you.’
Before I could control myself, I pressed my lips against Elrond's cold limp flesh. He tasted like long lost memories. Wrong, how wrong! Come now, Elf Lord, you who could have been High King, come back from loving the dead. Come back from mourning something which long passed beyond us. Feeling another wave of despair eat at me, I whispered my words against my Lord's unresponsive skin. “Elrond. Hear me. Do you retreat to your long dead royal lover because you feel you are not loved well enough here? That also is madness. Your children love you. Your wife does not but ahh, my sweet Elrond, if you would let me soothe your ache, I will be here for you. Cease this mourning. Please. Please, come back to me, my... love.’
Saying those words almost dislocated my reasoning. I had held them deep within me for so long I could barely believe that I finally uttered them into the air. Such fragile little sounds, gone within seconds, but with an impact larger than eternity. “Elrond!’ Hissing softly in frustration I clutched Elrond close against me. My fingers buried into his long black hair. Had he gone too far this time? Was my poor Elrond so enchanted with being with his Gil-galad that he refused to return?
No. If I needed to mount a battle so be it. Above all I understood a battle. Gently placing Elrond back onto the mattress I gazed down at him. My strong fingers slowly trailed down his chest, across his taut waist and down to his cock. Steeling my nerve, I gripped his cock as hard as I could and applied crushing pressure.
A light spasm shot through my Lord's limp body.
Delight flared through me. So he still hid deep inside. Stretching out on the bed I gathered Elrond into a loving embrace. My hands caressed his relaxed back muscles. Once again I pressed my lips hard against his and kissed him like I had always dreamed of kissing my beautiful Lord. I willed every ounce of my long withheld passion into my lips. Come back to me. Be with me.
A low surprised gasp filled my mouth. I almost fell off the bed. Elrond's flaccid body convulsed against me then his wide silvery eyes flicked back into awareness. They instantly focused on my face before filling with what I recognized as a legendary Elrond rage. “Glorfindel, what are you doing in my bed?’
My wild words flew from my lips. “Convincing you that a living Elf is better for you than a dead Elf.’
Elrond stared at me as if he'd never seen me before. For once in my life I wisely remained silent.
As he released a gasping sob, Elrond collapsed down against my body. The depth of his despair startled me. “By the Valar's Grace, Glorfindel, I miss him so much. I felt that in time the gaping wound in my heart would heal, but instead it festered and ripped deeper into my immortal soul. Gil-galad meant everything to me. It's why I could never be High King; my Gil-galad was King. I could never dream to be as he. Never.’
“Shhh. As long as you are back, all is well.’
As he inhaled a fresh sob, Elrond sudden straightened up and fixed his steady gaze on me. “What did you mean about a living Elf?’
Swallowing deeply I decided not to be the immortal coward. “I mean that after all these years I am finally telling you how much I love you.’
Elrond's thin expressive lips worked in astonishment. “You love me?’
Nodding sheepishly I bit my lower lip. “I always have.’
To my dismay Elrond's deep voice remained hard and sharp. “And did you plan on keeping this news to yourself?’
“Please, Elrond, you gave me no other recourse. After Gil-galad passed on, you cut yourself off from all love. You only married Celebrian to have heirs. All these years you have remained an Elf with a shell around you that repelled all attempts at love and affection. If anyone extended the gentle tendril of love toward you, your aching soul froze it. Now I understand that you'd rather commune with the dead than brave love amongst the living. That's a sad tale, my Lord.’
Elrond's next frigid glare tried transforming my flesh into stone. Funny; now that I had declared my love for him, his glare had little effect on me. To my satisfaction, Elrond looked away from my loving gaze. “How long was I... away from Imladris?’
“Ten days, my Lord.’
“Blessed Stars on High, no wonder you worried about me.’ Elrond gazed off, his wide eyes seeing something far beyond the view from his balcony. “Call me insane but I see him, Glorfindel. I call to him and at times Gil-galad comes to me but mostly he tells me... to live my life. He comforts me but then he urges me back here. Now I know why he always urges me back.’ Elrond's intense eyes slid back to meet my compassionate gaze. “He, in his infinite wisdom, knows you always watch over me yet I have proved too blind to see what love waits for me.’
My own breath caught. Elrond leaned close and pressed his lips to mine. “Glorfindel. Dear patient Glorfindel. Have I made you wait long enough? Can you forgive me?’
“There is nothing to forgive, my Elrond.’
“But there is much to be said and things to be done.’ Elrond's long fingers plucked at my tunic. “First things first. Yes, my fair Glorfindel, show me why I need a live Elf. Convince me why I need never to mourn again.’
My merry smile threatened to extend beyond my cheeks. Oh, with pleasure, my new lover. With pleasure.
The End
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