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Title & Chapter Number: Farewells and New Beginnings 3/17
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…)


October 5th, 3021, Third Age, Tirion, Valinor

Erestor tried to keep himself busy by unpacking the trunks that contained his robes and the personal belongings he brought from Imladris. As he fluffed his velvet robes and hung them in the armoire, a small piece of black ribbon fell from the robe, and fluttered on the breeze before drifting to the floor. He felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach; he bent over and picked it up, closing his eyes and bringing it to his lips. The ribbon had once held his beloved's hair and a few strands were still caught in it. He thought of how often his fingers and trailed though those golden tresses, and how they never would again. He sank upon the bed, lying back into the soft mattress and conjuring the vision of his beloved in his mind. He ached inside but hearkened his Lord's words, **Glorfindel would not be the last one he ever loved.** he prayed to the Valar it was true, for if it were not, he would be no more; he would not be able to go on. He rose from the bed, tying the piece of ribbon around his wrist, and returned to unpacking his things.

~*~*~*~

Lord Elrond reclined on a chase with his beloved wife curled up against him. He stroked her soft locks and worried about his Counselor. Erestor, by all accounts, seemed fine, and that was what worried him. The Noldo had never been one to be the center of attention, he did not like being doted upon or worried about; he was strong and proud, and asking for help was something he would never do. Elrond knew he was suffering still, and had gone to Galadriel for guidance. She told him that if the Noldo could continue to hope one would arrive soon, that would change everything for him, who would love him as no other had in his long lifetime. He prayed he could help him hang on until that one arrived, and he hoped he would recognize him when he did.

He closed his eyes and smiled as his wife snuggled against him, holding her in his arms again, so free of pain and torment, whole again, did his heart wonders. He wrapped his arms around her as she sighed and pressed a soft kiss to his bare chest.

October 15th, 120, Fourth Age, Eryn Lasgalen

Thranduil sat in his empty throne room, staring at the wall in a state of sickened shock. He awoke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He had a dream, no, not a dream, a vision, the Valar had spoken to him; they knew his crime and warned him of the punishment that awaited him. He and Legolas were to pay for their forbidden love upon arrival in Valinor, and after knowing the punishment, he wished that execution were the sentence. He felt weak, he could not summon the strength to move or even speak. He was so overcome with dread and fear that for the first time in his life, he was paralyzed. He had faced countless legions of Orcs and Uruk-hai, Dragons and Wargs, Spiders and Goblins, he had waded knee deep in blood and slaughter, suffered wounds and pain that few elves could bear, and all of that, even torture and torment in Barad-dûr, would be preferable to what lay in wait for him and his son. An eternity of separation, never again seeing one another, left to languish in solitary confinement, deprived of nature and love. To an elf, this was a fate worse than death; Thranduil did not fear death, but the loss and torment of his son was more than he could bear, it froze the blood in his veins.

He knew, that fateful morning, so many years ago, this would happen. He knew when he succumbed to his son's aching need and beautiful love for him that it would end badly. Yet, he had done what he knew he should not, and now he would pay. What sickened him so, was not that he should pay, but that Legolas should. How the Valar could choose to punish so loving an elf, so valiant a warrior, was beyond him. He had to find something, anything that he could do to spare his son the torment that awaited him. He and Legolas must remain behind, stay in Middle Earth and forgo the call of the sea.

"Ada?"

His son's beautiful voice tore the heart from his chest, any semblance of control he had over his warring emotions shattered upon the honeyed tones of his one true love's voice. He turned his ashen pale, tear stained face to his son and Legolas ran to his father, dropping to his knees at his feet.

"Ada! What is wrong? What is it?"

Thranduil tried to regain his composure and weakly smiled at his son. "Is the call of the sea strong for you, Iôn? Do you long for the undying lands?"

Legolas furrowed his brow, trying to discern what his father could be asking. "Yes, Ada. The call of the sea is very strong, it grows stronger by the day. We have not much time, the last ship will leave the Grey Havens soon, I need to be aboard it."

Thranduil nodded and took his son's hands in his own, bringing them to his lips. "Amin mela le, Legolas. You know there is nothing I would not do for you."

Legolas nodded, "Yes, Ada, I know, you would do anything for me, as I would do anything for you. What is this about, Ada? What is wrong?"

Thranduil took a deep breath and sighed. "Nothing, Greenleaf. Perhaps I am getting overly sentimental after so many years."

Legolas parted his father's legs and slid in between them, wrapping his arms around his waist, "Do not be foolish, Ada. You are not overly sentimental. I too will miss our home, there are so many happy memories for us here. But we will be happy in Valinor too, I believe that will all my heart."

Thranduil looked down at his son, so innocent still, so sure that their love was right that it never occurred to him it could be any other way. He stroked his flaxen mane, relishing the silken feel of it beneath his hand. "I am weary, a'maelamin, I think I will take a nap."

Legolas looked up at his father and smiled, "I will take one with you, it has been years since I took a nap."

Thranduil smiled and rose from his throne, "Come, meleth nín, sleep in my arms."

Legolas took his father's hand, "There is no other place I would rather be."

~*~*~*~

A'maelamin = Beloved
Meleth Nín = My Love
Ada = Father
Iôn = Son
Amin mela le = I love you

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