Title & Chapter Number: Good Relations 12/16
Author(s): & - Author's Index
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: We do not own these characters; they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate. We are not making money off this story; it was written for the pure pleasure of it.
Warnings: Slight angst, graphic homoerotic (slash) content, incest.
Betas: Alex
Cast: Haldir/Glorfindel, Elladan/Elrohir, Legolas/Elrohir, Thranduil/Elladan
Timeline: TA AU
Spoilers: None
Summary: The sequel to "Peace Offerings". Glorfindel and Haldir escort the twins to Mirkwood at Galadriel's request in the hopes of forming a political union.
Galathil appeared before his father, his countenance a bit wiser than it was the last time he stood in his father's office. He clasped his hands behind his back and cleared his throat, causing his father to look up from the parchment he was reading to gaze upon his son.
"Adar?" he asked softly, "May I have a word with you?"
Thranduil sat back in his chair, already noticing the change that had come over his eldest. "Of course, Iôn." He motioned to the chair Galathil was standing next to. "Please, sit."
Galathil perched nervously on the edge of the chair, his hands folded upon his knees.
"How are things going with you and Lord Erestor, Iôn? Has he been a good tutor?" Thranduil fought to keep the corners of his lips from curving into a smile.
Galathil flushed briefly and looked at the floor as he nodded. "Aye, Adar. He has been most… dedicated." He cleared his throat, looked back at his father, and continued, "Actually, that is the reason I am here. I would like your permission to continue my studies with Lord Erestor after he departs Mirkwood."
Thranduil raised one eyebrow and folded his ringed fingers together, resting his hands upon the desktop. "Lord Erestor has asked you to accompany him back to Imladris?"
Galathil flushed again. "Well… not exactly. I thought I would offer myself to him as an apprentice. He has been pleased with my lessons thus far, I do not think he would object." He swallowed. "Though he will require your permission. That is why I came to you."
Thranduil nodded, fighting once again to conceal the smile that threatened to spread across his lips. "Why is Erestor not here asking himself, Iôn? Have you discussed this with him?"
"Yes," Galathil answered. "He said we would need to speak with you first. Lord Erestor is so busy, I thought I would…"
Thranduil raised his hand, effectively silencing his son. "You cannot go to Imladris, Galathil. Mirkwood's defenses are hard pressed enough and it would be unfair to your brother and your regiment to allow you to leave.
Galathil leapt from his chair and begged his father, "Ada! Please! I cannot stay here when he leaves! I will die without him!"
Thranduil raised his eyebrows in surprise. He thought his son was infatuated with Erestor, but this protest was wholly unlike Galathil and far too strenuous for a mere physical attraction. "What are you saying, Galathil? What do you mean you will die?"
"I love him, Ada. With all my heart, I love him; I cannot be without him, just as you cannot be without…" his eyes widened and he clamped his hand over his mouth.
Thranduil narrowed his eyes and slowly rose from his chair. "There is no use hiding it from me, Galathil. I know you were there, I know what you saw." He leaned forward and looked his son in the eye. "Now would be a very good time to learn discretion, Iôn. Lest you wish to see this realm in ruins and your brother and I banished."
Galathil flushed bright red and looked at the floor. "You know I was there?" he asked softly.
Thranduil nodded. "Aye, nothing happens in this Palace without my knowledge. I trust you with my life and with your brother's life. Do you understand?"
Galathil nodded. "Yes, Ada. I promise, I will not fail you."
Thranduil nodded and smiled briefly. "I did not think you would. For all our differences, Galathil, you have been a good and loyal son."
Galathil smiled weakly at his father. "Thank you, Ada."
Thranduil nodded. "Now, back to this matter concerning Erestor. Has he told you he loves you as well?"
Galathil shifted his weight from one foot to the other nervously. "Well, not exactly."
Thranduil slammed his hand down on the desk and bellowed to his assistant. "Amras! Get Erestor in here immediately!"
Galathil jumped as his father pounded the desk and bellowed his discontent. Thranduil's anger, once roused, was not easily put to bed. He stammered, "Please, Ada, do not…"
Thranduil turned toward his son. "Not one more word from you, Galathil. Sit."
Galathil quickly sat down and clamped his mouth closed, the color draining from his face.
Several minutes later, Erestor appeared in Thranduil's office.
"Yes, my Lord? You wanted to speak with me?" Erestor flicked an invisible bit of lint from his immaculate black robes.
Thranduil stared down his old tutor and sometime advisor. "My son tells me he is in love with you, Erestor. When I asked you to tutor him, I did not expect you would steal his heart. Tell me, just what are your intentions toward my son?"
Erestor met his gaze unflinchingly. "My intentions, my Lord?" He sighed. "I have seen this happen before in those that I teach. It is not uncommon. You yourself, my Lord, wanted to serve me for the rest of your days."
Thranduil drew up to his full height, crossing his arms over his substantial chest. "Serve you yes, seek pleasure with you, yes.... Fall in love with you? Absolutely not. No offense, mellonamin." He leveled his gaze on the Noldo. "You taught me well, Erestor, and for that I will be forever grateful. But I promise you, I was never..." he motioned toward a pale Galathil, "in love with you. Not like that."
Erestor shifted, folding his hands behind his back. His expression was somewhat strained. "Yes, my Lord. It was not my intent for the Prince to fall in love with me." He sighed, glancing at his feet. "Nor I with him."
Thranduil leaned forward, his intimidating gaze settled on the Noldo. "Now I do not know what has transpired between the two of you." He held up his hand to silence his son's impending protest. "But I expect you to fix this, and do it immediately. I will not have my son wandering my palace pining away for you, Erestor."
Erestor glanced at Galathil and saw the anguish written plainly on his fair face. He turned his gaze back to Thranduil and managed not to flinch at the King's expression. "Forgive me, my Lord," Erestor said humbly. "That was not the intent at all when I began my instruction with him."
Thranduil furrowed his brow. "What exactly was your intent, Erestor? For your lessons seem to have gone astray."
Erestor stiffened. "They have not. Galathil learned well the lessons you wished for him to learn; and in that, my intent was successful."
Thranduil glared at Erestor. "He also apparently learned to give his heart to one who had not asked for it nor intended to take it when offered." He cocked his head and raised one finely arched eyebrow. "Unless you have something to tell me."
"I did not teach him that, my Lord, with all due respect." Erestor's face paled. "I never asked for his heart."
Thranduil leaned forward, his eyes burning holes through Erestor's facade. "But, that is exactly what has happened. Now, I ask again, what do you intend to do about it?"
Erestor's composure crumbled. "Love him, my Lord," he said simply, holding is hands out in front of him. "Love him. For there is more invested in this than I ever intended."
Thranduil's eyes widened as he stood back up. "That may be your intention, but is it something you are capable of doing?" He cocked his head. "Do you love my son, Erestor?"
Erestor nodded slowly. "I do, my Lord." He swallowed, folding his robes in his fists. "Against my better judgement and good sense, I do, with all my heart."
Thranduil chuckled and shook his head. "Rarely do good sense and judgement go hand in hand with love, Erestor." He smiled at his son then turned back to the Counselor. "You have my blessing, mellonamin. Be good to him."
Erestor let out the breath he had been holding slowly. "Thank you, my lord," he said, touching his heart and bowing his head. "I will."
Thranduil smiled broadly as he sat back down in his chair. "Now go, both of you, before *my* better judgement takes hold and I change *my* mind."
Erestor reached for Galathil and pulled him into his arms. "Foolish Princeling," he whispered tenderly. "Do you know what it is you have gotten yourself into?"
Galathil was nearly hysterical with relief and joy, his face beaming as he and Erestor left his father's office, not taking note of the soft laughter they left behind.
~*~*~*~
Thranduil retired to the stables after a particularly taxing day. One of his finest broodmares was preparing to foal and he and Elrohir walked to check on her together. As they came over a small hill leading to the pastures and foaling stalls, Thranduil spotted Glorfindel sitting on the ground under a tree, feeding Asfaloth an apple. Never in all his days had he seen one so miserable.
Elrohir stopped next to the King and looked at his seneschal. "By Elbereth, what has happened to him?" he asked softly.
Thranduil shook his head gently and softly answered, "That, my beautiful young Peredhil, is the look of one who has just had their heart broken." He patted Elrohir on the back. "Go to see to Sador, I will follow shortly."
Elrohir nodded and quietly made his way to check on the gray mare.
Thranduil approached quietly and leaned against the same tree Glorfindel sat under. "I wish I had a stallion as fine as your Asfaloth in my herd. Only my Bregolas comes close."
Glorfindel nodded and answered softly, "Perhaps Asfaloth would take to one of your mares, breeding season is just beginning again."
Thranduil nodded. "Aye, `tis true. Unless you will be leaving soon. I saw Haldir preparing to depart for Lórien to bear our happy news."
Glorfindel looked at the ground and shook his head. "I will not be accompanying Haldir to the Golden Wood, my Lord. I will wait for my Lord and Lady's arrival, then return to Imladris with them."
Thranduil nodded and took a seat on the ground beside the warrior. "So, `tis as I suspected, you and the marchwarden are no more then?"
Glorfindel shook his head, but made no answer.
Thranduil sat quietly with the warrior for a few moments then changed the topic to one they had in common. "Well, if you will be in Mirkwood for a bit longer, perhaps you would be willing to do something for me?"
Glorfindel took a deep breath and looked at the King. "What do you require of me, my Lord?" he asked softly.
Thranduil smiled and answered, "My soldiers could use a fresh perspective on battle tactics. My finest regiment is riding out after the next full moon with Legolas at its head to patrol the southern reaches of my realm. I would appreciate it if you would accompany them."
Glorfindel nodded and answered, "Aye, my Lord. I would be happy to."
Thranduil patted the warrior on the thigh and answered, "Most excellent. Elladan will be joining you as well, and I look forward to hearing your report upon your return." He rose from the ground and continued, "And I will talk later with you about presenting Asfaloth to my herd."
"Very well, my Lord," Glorfindel answered. He continued stroking Asfaloth's muzzle as the King departed.
~*~*~*~
Legolas rode at the head of a column of elves, followed closely by Glorfindel and Elladan, with the remaining elves of his regiment following behind in single file. He had an inkling the area they were patrolling had some new and unwanted guests.
Legolas' keen eyes spotted something familiar hanging from the low branch of the tree ahead of him. He halted his horse; his handsome face contorted in disgust as he reached out and snagged the long strand of sticky webbing from the branch.
"Ungol," he said, wiping his hand in revulsion against his leg.
Now that he knew what to look for, Glorfindel could see other trees that bore the same, sticky residue that Legolas had found. "It looks like we are on the right trail," he said, gesturing above them.
The elves in the party looked up into the branches. Strands of webbing hung like ropes, some spanning several feet between the trees. It was obvious this was a regular path the spiders traveled upon.
"Be alert," Legolas said quietly, drawing his bow. "They are quite skilled in stalking."
Elladan tensed, searching the area around them, all his senses on alert as his horse whinnied anxiously. The other elves in their party all drew their weapons.
The attack came without warning.
A length of sticky webbing shot out from above them, immediately ensnaring one of the guards and dragging him from his horse.
Glorfindel surged forward, his sword already swinging, and cut the strands that held the elf, before confronting one of the great monsters that had descended from the tree.
The air was filled with the sound of arrows and the slight twang of bowstrings as the elves began firing into the trees and surrounding brush.
Legolas gave a fierce cry, firing his bow, moving to intercept the spider that was headed for Glorfindel. The spider gave a hideous screech as a green fletched arrow penetrated its abdomen and it whirled to confront its attacker.
Elladan moved swiftly, for neither Glorfindel nor Legolas saw the third spider, poised to pounce from above. The spider leapt from the tree straight onto Glorfindel, pinning the elf to the forest floor. Elladan cried out, his sword already in motion as he desperately moved to reach Glorfindel in time.
Time seemed to slow as the spider's stinger plunged into Glorfindel's abdomen, pumping its toxin into his body.
With a scream of fury, Elladan's sword swung out, stabbing out one of its many eyes. Screeching in pain and fury, the spider turned to deal with this new attack.
The other elves moved in to help, and though Elladan was a skilled fighter, he was grateful for their assistance. The spider died with a horrible squeal, its legs twitching in its death throes as it fell to the side. He knelt quickly beside Glorfindel's fallen form. The Vanya's eyes were closed, his skin had taken on a strange, gray hue, and his breathing was almost non-existent. Hearing Legolas' shout, he glanced up in time to see the Prince drive his knives deeply into the head of the spider he fought.
Breathing heavily from his exertions, Legolas moved quickly to Elladan's side, dropping to his knees alongside Glorfindel. He took one look at the Balrog Slayer's still form and shook his head.
"He has been poisoned," he said worriedly, glancing around him. He saw the spider that had attacked Glorfindel and examined its corpse. "He was stung by one of the smaller, guardian spiders. They defend the nest against attacks, and their sting carries a poison, rather than a sleeping agent." He looked at Elladan and shook his head. "They do not strike their targets for food, but to kill."
Elladan's face paled. "Your people have a remedy for this poison, I hope?"
Legolas dropped his gaze to Glorfindel's face and swallowed. "No," he whispered. "We do not." He gently touched Elladan on the shoulder. "He has maybe a day or two before the poison reaches his heart. Then he will die." Tears glittered in his eyes as he gripped Elladan's shoulder tightly. "I am sorry, meldiramin."
"No," Elladan said, reaching out and pulling Glorfindel's body into his arms. He rose to his feet. "I will not accept that. There has to be something we can do." Asfaloth bowed low, accepting the limp form of his master, and held still while Elladan mounted behind him. He turned the stallion back towards the Great Hall, not caring if the others followed him or not.
~*~*~*~
Haldir rode behind his lord and lady, feeling his heart sink with each step that brought him back to Mirkwood. He had not wished to return. He wanted nothing more than to resume his duties on the fences of the Northern borders and forget about Glorfindel. He planned to bury his heartache in his duties. However, due to his brothers' interference, he was back, riding towards the one elf he did not wish to see.
He bitterly regretted telling Orophin and Rúmil what had transpired between himself and his former lover. He had thought they would sympathize with him and offer him some comfort and words of support. Instead, while his brothers had been sympathetic, they also had informed him that he was being a fool.
"Do you think that love is easy?" Orophin had asked, folding his arms and staring down at his older brother. "Do you think that every relationship is perfect and full of constant bliss?"
Rúmil had taken a place beside Haldir on the floor of their talan. "It is not," he had said, sliding his arm across Haldir's shoulders. "Nor is it always an equal partnership. Sometimes you have to compromise, find a place where you both can find equal ground."
"Glorfindel is right in that you take yourself far too seriously, muindor," Orophin had continued. "You have forgotten how to relax, enjoy what life has to offer. I do not mean that you should loll about being foolish and silly like a senseless elfling, but neither should you forget what it means to have fun."
"You worry far too much about what others might think of you. You worry that if you let your mask slip for even an instant and show your softer side, that others will not take you seriously," Rúmil had said. "We know you for who you are, and we see the side you show to others. You should not worry that if others see your inner self that they will think less of you."
"More likely, they would respect you more, like you more," Orophin had added with a grin. "You are not an easy elf to get to know, but those who know you, know what a fine elf you are. They know that beneath that calm, cool exterior is the heart of an elf that is brave, strong, fiercely loyal, and passionate about the things he believes in. You have given Glorfindel merely a glimpse of this, muindor. He fell in love with only a taste of what you are. You should not let this end the way it has."
"Go with the Lord and Lady and Lord Elrond's family back to Mirkwood. Entreat Glorfindel to listen to you. Show him your heart; show him who you really are. Tell him how much he means to you," Orophin had entreated softly.
Rúmil had nodded. "A love like the one you share with Glorfindel is rare and special indeed, muindor. Do not let it slip through your fingers because of your pride. Do not lose this over something so foolish."
"Do not let yourself be alone because you cannot admit that in some ways, Glorfindel was right," Orophin had said quietly.
Haldir had looked at them both and shook his head. "When did my muindyr become so wise in the ways of love?"
A look had passed between them that he could not decipher.
"We want to see you happy, Haldir," Orophin had replied.
He had not wanted to return. They had pleaded with him, using their persuasive arguments against his own. In the end, when they could not sway him with their words, they had left him alone. He had thought at the time that they had given up.
Until Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel had sent for him the night before their departure for Mirkwood.
He should have known his brothers would not have given up so easily.
They said nothing of Glorfindel, which had surprised him. Instead, he was informed that his presence was required on the journey, as they both felt more secure knowing the Captain of the Galadhrim was escorting them. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he had nodded and turned to leave. Galadriel's parting words to him had not eased matters any.
"Beside, Haldir. I believe you have some unfinished business in Mirkwood that needs tending to." Her starry eyes had spoken volumes.
Turning on his heel, he had fled their presence and retreated to his own talan to think.
He had been still so full of anger and hurt when he left Mirkwood. As the leagues had passed, his anger had faded, and it had taken all his will not to turn about and head back to Thranduil's hall, to seek out Glorfindel and beg him to take him back.
Pride had prevented him from doing just that.
Now, as he rode beneath the greenery of Mirkwood, his brothers riding on either side of him, he realized that pride had been his biggest problem of all.
Haldir's fingers idly played with his horse's mane as he silently reeled from his revelation. He realized finally the truth in his brothers' words, and how utterly foolish he had been.
It was a rare and special gift and he had thrown it away in anger. In all his long years of life, he had never felt for another elf the way he felt for Glorfindel. Which was worth more: the opinion of others, or Glorfindel's love? Where was the joy in living if one did not have another to share it with?
He realized something else as well, something that surprised him, yet gave him something to hope for: he loved Glorfindel with all his heart, and he would do anything to have another chance to prove it.
He only hoped that when the time came, Glorfindel would give it to him.
~*~*~*~
"My Lord!" Amras burst into Thranduil's study. "The patrol returns, there are wounded among them!"
Thranduil rose from his chair so quickly he nearly knocked it over. "Legolas! Is my son hurt?" He held is breath as he waited for an answer.
"Nay, my Lord," Amras answered. "He rides at the front of the column, however, three have suffered injuries, and the Lord Glorfindel is seriously wounded."
Thranduil came from around his desk and quickly made his way to the palace gait.
As he pushed the heavy doors open, he heard the sound of clattering hooves crossing the bridge as the elves rode through the heavy iron gates. Legolas was indeed in front, and appeared unharmed, but following him was Elladan upon the stallion Asfaloth, and he held Glorfindel's limp form in his arms. He rushed forward and lifted the limp Vanya from Asfaloth's back as the stallion bowed. Elladan slid off behind the injured warrior and followed Thranduil into the palace.
"What happened?" he asked as he carried the warrior to the healer's quarters.
Elladan was on his heel as he replied, "Spider attack. He was struck down."
Legolas hurried behind them as the unhurt members of the party helped their injured comrades. "It was a guardian, Adar. It unloaded a full dose of poison into him before Elladan and the others could kill it.
The color drained from Thranduil's face, but his gait did not pause as he turned the corner for the healer's quarters. He laid the warrior's limp form upon a cot as the elf in charge of the staff of healers rushed forward. The King placed a hand upon the healer's shoulder and said quietly, "Make him comfortable, mellon, there is nothing more to be done."
Elladan grasped Thranduil's arm and pleaded with him, "Please, my Lord. We cannot just let him die! There must be something, some magic, some spell you could weave…"
Thranduil caressed Elladan's face and slowly shook his head. "I am sorry, meleth. My magic does not reach so far, I cannot call back those who walk the path to Mandos' halls." He drew Elladan into his arms and kissed the top of his head. "I would do all that I could, pen neth, but this is beyond my reach. I am not a healer."
Elladan pulled away, tears tracking down his face as he answered, "Well I am a healer, and I will not let him go!" He dropped to his knees next to the fallen warrior and placed his hands upon his heart. He fell quickly into a healing trance as the others around him looked on in surprise.
Elrohir burst into the healer's chambers and found his brother on his knees next to Glorfindel's limp form, and he rushed forward. Legolas caught him by the arm, and Elrohir turned to look at his lover's tear stained face.
"He is fatally wounded, meleth," Legolas said softly, "Elladan is trying to save him, but I fear it is too late."
Elrohir looked at Legolas in shock, slowly shaking his head and muttering, "No… `tis not true."
Legolas nodded and whispered, "I am so sorry, Elrohir."
Elrohir looked at Thranduil. "My Lord?" he asked, his voice small and distant.
Thranduil nodded slowly and quietly answered, "My son speaks the truth, pen neth."
Elrohir shook his head violently and barked, "NO!" He dropped to his knees beside Elladan and turned to look at Thranduil, tears streaming down his face.
Erestor and Galathil hurriedly entered the room, and Erestor was not able to contain the gasp of shock when he saw Glorfindel's pale form. The Noldo rushed to his friend's bedside and picked up a cold, limp hand.
"Mellonamin," he whispered softly. "Glorfindel, wake, please."
Galathil felt tears wet his cheeks as he saw the distraught look upon his tutor's face. Erestor's normally steely resolve had crumbled, and his face was a mask of pain and despair.
Elrohir addressed Thranduil, "You must get my father. Elladan is strong enough to hold him here, but not to bring him back. Please, my father can heal him, you must find him."
Thranduil looked at the pain in Elrohir's eyes then to the limp form of the stricken Vanya. He turned to his sons. "Legolas, Galathil. Ride to the western border of the forest, Elrond and the Lord and Lady of the Wood approach. Fetch them here immediately. Make haste, iynen. We have not got much time."
Legolas and Galathil bowed before their father and quickly departed. Galathil paused at the door and cast one more glance at his lover as Erestor looked up at him.
"Hurry, ernilen," Erestor called out to Galathil.
Galathil nodded and ran after Legolas who was already nearing the courtyard.
~*~*~*~
Lord Elrond rode beside Celebrían, just ahead of Galadriel and Celeborn. They were flanked by four Galadhrim and led by Haldir and his brothers, Orophin and Rúmil.
Haldir's head snapped up as he heard the sound of thundering hoof beats and he quickly drew his bow, hoping that it was wood elves and not some unexpected foe that approached them. Rúmil, Orophin, and the four Galadhrim followed suit, all drawing their bows and aiming toward the approaching sound.
Legolas and Galathil's horses burst from the treeline at a full gallop, the two Sindar Princes, shouting and waiving to the approaching party. Haldir dropped his bow and lowered his hand, signaling his soldiers to do the same. "Elfling games," he muttered as the Princes approached, not showing any sign of slowing down.
Elrond felt a nagging sensation of dread fall over him and he heard Galadriel's quiet gasp confirm it. He squeezed his mount into a canter and rode toward the approaching princes.
"Meleth nín?" he heard Celebrían's worried voice as he cantered away from the group. Galadriel followed, as did Haldir and his brothers.
"My Lord Elrond!" Legolas called. "We must make haste! Glorfindel has been grievously wounded, he needs you immediately!"
Haldir felt the blood drain from his face as his heart was seized with fear. "No," he whispered. Haldir immediately squeezed his horse into a gallop, drawing along side Elrond as they raced toward the caves.
Celeborn called to his wife, "Go with him, meleth! He may need your help!"
Galadriel turned and nodded to her husband and galloped away with Elrond, her white robes and golden hair flowing out behind her.
Rúmil and Orophin stayed behind with their Lord Celeborn and Lady Celebrían. Rúmil reached across and squeezed Orophin's thigh, and the elder brother looked into his love's eyes, seeing them shimmer with tears.
Celebrían pressed her hand to her mouth as she suppressed her tears, her Captain had fallen.
Orophin reached out, clasped Rúmil's shoulder, and gave him a reassuring nod as the remainder of the group cantered into the wood.
~*~*~*~
Ungol = spider
Muindor = brother
Muindyr = brothers
Iynen = my sons
Ernilen = my prince~ Next Chapter ~
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