Title & Chapter Number: Farewells and New Beginnings 1/17
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website:
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of Tolkien with the exception of an original or two, and I am sure he would be horrified if he read this…
Warnings: This story is rated NC-17 and contains male slash pairings, incest, and explicit sexual content - not to mention a boatload of angst. If you find this offensive, or you are under-age, I strongly suggest you stop now.
Betas: Alex
Cast: Legolas/Thranduil, Glorfindel/Erestor, Legolas/Erestor, Thranduil/Glorfindel
Timeline: TA
Spoilers: None
Summary: The time of the Elves is over, and the last remaining Elves sail for the west.
Notes: This story came out of a little one I wrote as a companion to the Rock Stars series. The plot bunny, however, refuses to leave, so here I am, exercising my demons. This is inspired by the beautiful Elves that Professor Tolkien created much to our joy and amazement; and by the beautiful, sometimes sad, and heartrending music of U2 that I was listening to when I wrote it. Thanks so much to everyone who gave me encouragement, Alex (my wonderful beta reader on this and the Rock Stars series), Dawn, Larian (my wonderful beta reader on the Tale of Two Brothers series), Hawk, and L.K., (and yes, I cried like a baby when I wrote it…)
September 29th, 3021, Third Age, Grey Havens, Lindon
The sound of the water lapping at the sides of the great ship as it gently swayed against the dock, made the warrior feel disconnected; as if what were happening could not possibly be real. Glorfindel stood on the docks looking across the Belegaer, the smell of salt air filling his nostrils. He was saying goodbye to the last of his kin, the war was over and precious few would linger behind; one day soon, the few that did would leave too. The wide expanse of sea and sky were awesome to behold. It was a beautiful day; the sun shone brightly, and full, white clouds tracked across the horizon. The song of seabirds floated about his ears, and his heart ached, an ache he had never known the like of before.
He heard the soft, nearly soundless footsteps of his Lord as he turned to greet him.
"Are you sure, seneschal? Are you sure this is your path?" Elrond asked, trailing elegant fingers down his cheek and across his jaw.
"I am sure, my Lord. They need me, it is my duty, I cannot leave them behind." He answered.
"I am relieved to know you will be with them, malthen maethor. It pains me greatly to leave my children behind, but they have chosen this path." The sorrow clouding Elrond's gray eyes was painful to behold. "There will be more ships, meldiramin, but I know you will not board them, I will not see you again. Namarie, Glorfindel."
"Namarie, my Lord." He replied. He felt Elrond's strong arms embrace him and he quietly sighed when they released him. He felt adrift, lost and floating in the vast empty sea, as he watched the one he had served the entirety of his second life board the great ship.
"Ai, I will miss you, meldiramin." He turned to face the one he would miss most of all, and caressed his face and his raven hair.
"I will miss you, a'maelamin, more than you know." A tear tracked down his cheek as he whispered to his dearest friend, the one that had just slipped from his grasp through a strange twist of fate.
"Then come, come with us. They are grown, meldir. They no longer need you." He answered, "Not as I do."
"Oh, Erestor, a'maelamin, I cannot, I…"
"I know, you are in love with them, not with me. For that I am truly sorry." He took a deep breath and drew himself up straight, "I will not speak of it again, meldir, your secret will be forever safe with me, as will theirs." He sighed, "I will miss you, meleth nín, everyday for the rest of eternity." The Counselor placed a soft kiss upon his cheek, and turned and walked away from him, his head held high, and his beautiful, proud Noldor heritage emanating from him like a bright white light.
Erestor stood at the side of the ship, staring at his best friend and sometime lover. His golden locks almost outshined the sun itself, his broad shoulders, long legs and narrow waist cut a beautiful silhouette on the docks as the sun rose in the East behind him. He was living, physical sculpture, all beauty, power and grace. His heart ached, so much so that for the first time in his life, wondered if he would ever recover, if he would ever find away to let go of the only one he had ever really loved. He gripped the railing in his hands, whispering, "Come on… you can do it, meleth nín. Just let them go, run, run to me. One foot in front of the other, Glorfindel, please…"
He closed his eyes, praying, hoping beyond hope his love would change his mind. Footsteps. He heard footsteps, he was running… he was coming… he ran for the gangplank shouting, "Stop! Wait! He is coming! Wait for him!" His great golden lion came charging up the gangplank, leaping on to the deck and sweeping him up in his arms. "I am sorry… I was so blind, so foolish, please forgive me. I am sorry…"
"I am sorry, Erestor. Meldir?"
The Counselor opened his eyes to see the shrinking dock and the three Elves that stood upon it, hands raised in a farewell salute. The voice he heard was that of his noble Lord. He sighed. Suddenly he felt dizzy and grasped the railing in his hands as he began to teeter backward. Elrond caught him and carried him below decks to his quarters.
Glorfindel stood and watched as the ship pulled away from the docks, the wind filling its sails as it began the long journey west. A voice in his head was calling to him, **Run, you can still catch it, you can still go… you can still be with him… he is the one, he is the one you are meant to be with… swim if you have to… just go!** He closed his eyes tight against the stinging tears that traced down his face, he raised a trembling hand and wept, waiving goodbye to his best friend for the last time. Elladan and Elrohir stood beside him, shedding their own tears as they said goodbye to their father, but comforted that he would be reunited with their mother. They each put a comforting arm around the warrior's waist, holding him upright, whispering of their love for him. The three companions watched until they could no longer see the great ship, then returned to their quarters before departing for Gondor.
~*~*~*~
"We should have let him go, Elrohir. This was too much to ask, too much to expect. He could be happy there, he could have Erestor."
Elrohir picked at loose threads on the coverlet and almost whispered, "But he would not have us."
"It is not too late, Elrohir. There will be more ships, he can still go, but he never will unless we tell him to. Why should he suffer for us? He can go, whereas we cannot. He can be happy, our crime is not his, he should not have to pay."
Elrohir shook his head and wept, "Please, Elladan, no more, I cannot bear another word. Do you not think I feel horrible for what I have done? Do you not realize how sick I feel?"
Elladan wrapped his arms around his twin, "I am sorry, a'maelamin. But, I fear for him, Elrohir. I love him as well, but I can live without him, I only need you, I need no other. How long can we ask him to share us? How long can we expect him to only have part of us and never all?"
Elrohir broke down in tears, sobbing inconsolably in his brother's arms.
That night Glorfindel did not sleep, he sat on the floor, staring out the doors that faced the ocean, missing his best friend and dear lover, wondering if he had not made a mistake, and silently weeping.
~*~*~*~
September 1st, 120, Fourth Age, Eryn Lasgalen
A soft breeze carried the scent of jasmine through the windows of Legolas' room. He sat upon the foot of his bed, the bed he had slept in most of his long life, the bed he had first made love in. He stroked the soft velvet coverlet in his hand; he had missed this bed over the last hard years of his life. He had yearned for it, and for happier days, many times as he slept under the stars, nursed his wounds, and missed his love. The trial had been a hard one; he had seen many noble men and elves fall before it had come to an end. Nevertheless, come to an end it did, and he spent many years wandering the lands of Middle Earth with his friend, Gimli. Often he wanted to come home, to push wide the iron gates of the palace, and run and leap into his father's arms. He was not sure why he stayed away, but he did, until now. Part of him thought perhaps he did not want his father to see him as he had become; he was no longer the gentle young son he had been. He was so different now from the young, frightened elf that had seduced his father in this very bed; he was afraid his father would not be in love with the elf he had become. He was grown, he was battle-hardened, he was a warrior; but he still loved his father, as much as he ever had, he had never stopped.
Orophin had taught him a hard lesson, but one that served him well throughout his life. He had hurt the young Galadhrim, hurt him because he was too weak to face the truth, because he was too scared to be alone. But that was a mistake he never made again, lovers, of those he had many, countless in number; none, however, touched his heart. That was reserved for another.
After he became a true warrior, a grown, adult elf, he succeeded in tasting his father's love again; but only after Thranduil saw that he no longer needed a father, he needed the one he loved more. It had been over twenty-five years since he last saw his home and this last trip had been a hard one. He, Glorfindel, and Elladan and Elrohir had escorted Arwen to Lórien, it was to be the last trip of her life; she would remain there until her death, which he saw not to be far off. It was the last duty he had left to perform for his good friend, Estel; the last service to the King he had served and fought beside for over twenty years. Glorfindel, Elladan, and Elrohir would return to Imladris upon Arwen's passing, and from there, he knew not what would happen to them.
For him, this would be his final visit home; his last few months in his beloved wood before he and his father sailed into the west. The last ship was to leave soon, and he had heard the calling of the sea; it haunted his thoughts and his dreams. As much as loved his home, he needed to leave. Something, he knew not what, called him to that other place, the place that few of his kind had ever seen. The caves and palace were all but deserted, only a few remained to oversee the final pilgrimage. He looked up when he heard the door of his father's chamber swing shut and heard the weary groan of a King who had been burdened for far too long by war and violence. Now that it was over, he wondered if his father knew what to do with himself, so much of his life had been spent at war, had been spent fighting. War had nearly defined his existence, only his love for Legolas kept that from happening. The Prince smiled as he rose from the bed; Thranduil did not yet know his son was home. Legolas pulled aside the curtain and crossed the garden, walking the path he had taken so many times in his life.
He stepped through the open doorway and into his father's bedchamber. Thranduil lay upon his back on the bed with his eyes closed. He had removed his shirt and boots, and his leggings were unlaced but not yet removed. Legolas moved to the bed, without a sound, and leaned over his father. He smiled; his father was still the most beautiful elf he had ever seen.
"Ada?" he whispered.
A broad smile crossed the King's lips and he opened his eyes. He reached up and caressed his son's face, "Legolas… Iôn, I have missed you."
Legolas smiled at his father as he sat up. The Prince sat beside him on the bed, running his strong archer's hands through his father's hair. "I have missed you as well, a'maelamin. By Elbereth, you are so beautiful."
Thranduil closed his eyes, hearing his son's honeyed voice fill his ears, and pressed his head into Legolas' hand. "Amin mela le, Legolas. My bed has been so empty without you."
Legolas leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss to his father's lips, and sighed. This had always been where he was happiest, where he had felt whole and complete, here in his father's bed. "I am here to fill it now…" he whispered.
Thranduil wrapped his arms around his son and pressed a kiss to his waiting mouth, softly moaning as he ran his hands into his beloved's hair. He pulled back to look deeply into his son's eyes. He had changed so much, not just physically, which he had, but his soul had changed, it had aged. "Look at you, my strong, beautiful warrior…" Legolas no longer looked like his mother; his lithe, willowy form had been transformed, he had a warrior's body, hard muscle, broad shoulders, strong hands. His eyes no longer twinkled with youthful optimism, but held a warrior's quiet wisdom. He could see that Legolas had seen many things he never should have had to. "That I could have spared you the pain you have suffered, Greenleaf, I would have walked through fire to spare you."
The Prince smiled gently, "I know, Ada, I know. But I bore no greater burden than any other, at least I still have my family, I still have you."
Thranduil knew how many people his son had lost that he had counted among his friends and comrades. The list was too long, Boromir, Haldir and Theoden all died violent deaths; Eomer, Faramir, Merry and Pippin died of old age, but most painful had been Estel. The one time Ranger and reluctant King had fought and risked his life to save his people, a people that did not even want him as King, not until they recognized his valor. Estel picked the time of his passing, but that made it no less painful to Legolas or his kin. Thranduil's son had seen too much death in his short life; scores of men and elves had given their lives fighting Sauron.
Legolas leaned in and pressed his lips to those of his father's again, softly, longingly exploring his mouth. He leaned back and whispered, "How I have missed those lips, a'maelamin. Memories of your kiss and your touch sustained me through all I have been through. I survived all the pain and death and blackness of Sauron's evil, because I knew, that when it was over, I would come home to you, to your arms."
Thranduil slid his hands into his son's hair and pulled him back upon the bed. Legolas lay on top of him, softly kissing him and quietly moaning, feeling the hole in his soul filled again. He lived for his father's touch, for his soft, deep moans and throaty whispers, for his strong hands and silken heat. He felt the warm rush of desire light inside him as he rested between his lover's legs. Thranduil rolled him to his back, lying on top of him and caressing his love. The Prince whispered in between kisses, "Missed you so much… wanted you so badly… need you… love you…" Time stood still as he lay in his father's embrace, wrapped in his love and warmth, softly and slowly kissing him, relishing the weight of his strong body and the softness of his lips. Thranduil peeled the suede doublet from his son's chest and ran his hands over the silk of his tunic. They were practically alone now, they could make love for hours, languish in one another's embrace for days and no one would be the wiser. He had no meetings, no troops to train, or guests to entertain. For the first time since Legolas was a small elfling, he could focus all his attention on his son.
Legolas moaned softly as his lover began unbuttoning the clasps on his tunic. He gasped quietly at the feel of his father's hands upon his skin, twenty five years had passed since he felt it last, and no other had ever been able to make him feel the same. He whispered, "Make love to me, meleth nín, I ache for you, my Lord." His hands slid down his lover's sides and grasped the top of his leggings as he pushed them down past his hips. Thranduil rose long enough to strip his leggings and Legolas sat up, removing his tunic and kicking off his boots.
The King smiled lovingly as he hovered over his son on his hands and knees, his hair falling around his beloved's face. He whispered, "Amin mela le, Greenleaf."
Legolas smiled and whispered, "Amin mela le, Ada." He reached up for his father, pulling him down to him and wrapping his arms around him, holding him tight and burying his face in his father's golden mane. He moaned quietly as he felt his father's arousal press into his own, he burned and ached inside; he had a gaping, empty chasm that needed to be filled, he needed to feel whole again. Thranduil rose and pulled his lover's leggings down and worked his way up his strong legs with his mouth, lovingly kissing him, softly sighing and purring, as his mouth reached his son's arousal. Legolas gasped and moaned as he felt his father's lips caress his silken, rigid length. He wadded the sheets in his fists as Thranduil drew his tongue up the underside of his erect desire. He moaned his father's name as his lover took him in his mouth, tears ran from his eyes and he smiled, he was so happy after being so dead for so long. He relished each flick of his father's tongue, each soft caress of his lips. Thranduil kneaded the soft flesh and hard muscle of his son's thighs as he brought him to climax. His heart stopped at the heartbreakingly beautiful moan that escaped his son's lips and the breathless whisper that followed.
"Amin mela le, Ada."
He lovingly cleaned Legolas with his tongue, stroking his hip and his chest as he made his way back up to his mouth. He rested between his son's legs and felt their power as they wrapped around him, he felt the strength of his son's hands as they pulled his lips to his own, and pressed a passionate kiss to his lips. "Amin mela le, Iôn." He whispered against his son's lips.
Legolas smiled as he rolled over on top of his father, he playfully nipped at his lower lip as he pulled away. He purred as he worked his way down his father's powerful chest, fondling the rings that pierced his nipples against his tongue and snaked his way even lower to arrive at his lover's weeping arousal. Thranduil moaned as his son took him in his mouth, savoring him, tasting him. He arched his back as his son began to swallow him, drawing him ever closer to climax. He groaned as his son's strong fingers slid inside him, brushing deep inside, sending bolts of electric desire roaring through his body. He spilled himself down his throat and felt his own tears wet his face as he thanked Eru for his beautiful, loving son.
Legolas crawled back up to kiss his father softly and rest his head upon his broad, strong chest. His lover's heartbeat lulled him to sleep as Thranduil pulled the covers up around them.
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