Title & Chapter Number: Fate's Mirror 2/?
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website:
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: do not own these characters, they are the property of Tolkien, and I am sure he would be horrified if he read this…
Warnings: This story is rated NC-17 and contains male slash pairings and explicit sexual content. If you find this offensive, or you are under-age, I strongly suggest you stop now.
Betas: Larian Elensar
Cast: Erestor, Glorfindel, Gildor, Thranduil
Timeline: SA
Spoilers: None
Summary: Set during the second half of the second age. Reincarnated Glorfindel returns to Lindon from the Halls of Mandos to pledge his service to the High King.
Notes:
April, 1693, Second Age, Lindon
Glorfindel sat upon the edge of the table in the healer's quarters. The healer had just left and, as he knew would be the case, he could find nothing physically wrong with him. Erestor stood across from him, arms crossed over his chest, his brow furrowed. The color had slowly returned to Glorfindel's skin and now the Counselor's eyes rested upon the scar that ran the length of the warrior's side, from hip to armpit. It was relatively fresh, but the skin was healed, and Erestor could not understand why Gildor's hit had effected the warrior the way it had.
"Where did the scar come from, Glorfindel?" he asked, his tone even and without emotion.
Glorfindel hung his head, avoiding the Counselor's gaze, preferring to study the floor instead. "I would prefer not to discuss it, if you do not mind, my Lord."
Erestor took a deep breath and answered, "But I do mind, Glorfindel. I am asking you a direct question and I expect an answer, it is your duty to answer me."
Glorfindel sighed and continued to stare at the floor. "I was wounded in battle, my Lord."
Erestor raised an eyebrow and stepped forward. "Indeed, I can see that." He grasped the warrior's right arm and raised it above his head. "Looks like a whip mark, or a burn. Where did it come from, Glorfindel? Who gave you this wound?"
Glorfindel turned his head and quietly answered, "I prefer not to say, my Lord."
Erestor dropped the warrior's arm and turned his chin so that their gazes met. "I will ask you only once more, Glorfindel, and I expect an answer. Where did this mark come from?"
Glorfindel met the Counselor's gaze with as much determination as he could muster. He cleared his throat and answered, "From the whip of the Balrog that killed me, my Lord. I thought you would have surmised that by now."
Erestor's eyes widened for a brief moment then he nodded, releasing the warrior's chin. "So, it is as I suspected. You are Glorfindel of Gondolin." He turned his back and looked at the wall. "Why did you not just tell me this to begin with, Glorfindel? Why were you not honest with me?"
Glorfindel sighed. "I did not wish for all those around me to know of my identity. I am alone enough in this world without creating further division. I am an aberration, my Lord, I am not supposed to be alive."
Erestor turned and pulled a stool up in front of the warrior. "But you are supposed to be alive, Glorfindel. Mandos does nothing without reason." He placed his hand upon the warrior's bare shoulder. "You should not be ashamed of who you are, Glorfindel. Rather the opposite, I think. You are a great hero as well as a great warrior."
Glorfindel leaned back away from the Counselor's touch. "This is precisely what I wanted to avoid, my Lord. I do not want to be a hero, I am a simple warrior, a loyal servant to my King. Do you think what I did was heroic? It was foolish, it was rash, and I paid for it with my life."
Erestor placed his hand upon the warrior's thigh. "It was not foolish, nor rash. Your actions saved the King's family, you did what you had to do to ensure their safety." He put his hand up to stop further argument from the warrior. "But I will honor your wish for secrecy, if that is truly what you desire. However, this old wound will hamper you in battle; that was made plain today. I will have to find another role for you to fulfill, at least until you can fight without risk to your own safety or the safety of others."
Glorfindel made to protest, "But, my Lord, this is all I know how to do, I am a warrior, that is all I am."
Erestor smiled gently. "Oh, but you are much more than that, Glorfindel, `tis a pity you do not see it." He took a deep breath. "I will think upon it and summon you to my quarters when I have an answer. In the meantime, continue training with the bow. I will consult with my Lord."
Glorfindel grasped Erestor's arm as he rose from the stool. "You will not tell the High King of my weakness will you?"
Erestor smiled and patted the warrior's hand. "I serve Lord Elrond, the King's Standard Bearer, it is he that I will consult with." He glanced over the warrior's bare chest. "Now, put on your tunic and return to your quarters. Shadow Gildor, he will be helpful to you in acclimating to your new home."
Glorfindel gingerly pulled on his tunic as he watched the Chief Counselor depart. He absently rubbed his shoulder where the Noldo's hand had laid, and left the healer's quarters for the barracks.
~*~*~*~
"It is as you suspected, my Lord. He is indeed the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower."
Elrond nodded as he sat at his desk, tapping his lips with his finger. "There is surely a reason he is here, though I am not sure I want to know what that reason is."
Erestor nodded. "It does not bode well that Mandos sent one of the greatest warriors known in our time back from the dead. Nevertheless, he is a loyal and brave soul, my Lord; I can see it in his eyes. But, his body is not the only thing that is wounded, I fear he suffers in silence."
Elrond nodded in agreement and rose from his chair. "I want you to mentor him, Erestor, teach him all you know, battle tactics, diplomacy, everything that can be of use. We must teach him to trust us, to look upon us as his family."
Erestor bowed his head and placed his hand over his heart. "Of course, my Lord. I will do all that you wish." He backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.
~*~*~*~
Glorfindel lay upon his side on his bunk, staring at the wall, his left arm tucked under his head. He was so tired, but he did not want to close his eyes, he did not want to surrender to sleep, not if he was to have the same dream again.
"How are you feeling, mellon nín?"
He rolled to his back to see Gildor sitting upon the bunk beside him. He rose to his elbows and winced, quickly covering with a smile. "Fine, meldir. Do not worry, you did me no harm."
Gildor smiled wryly and nodded. "Indeed. So you are of the habit of falling to your knees and turning white as snow?"
Glorfindel furrowed his brow and grumbled. "I said I am fine."
Gildor grabbed the warrior's arm and tugged him from his bunk. "These bunks are barely large enough for an elfling, you cannot expect to take any rest here. Come, take your rest in my quarters, they are far more comfortable."
Glorfindel raised an eyebrow and regarded the elf with some suspicion. Gildor laughed heartily and replied, "I am only suggesting you take some rest, I need not be there if it makes you uncomfortable."
Glorfindel rose from the narrow bunk and followed the Noldo to his quarters.
As they entered Gildor's modest abode, Glorfindel looked around. Gildor grasped his sleeve and tugged him into the bedroom and asked him to sit upon the bed. He opened a drawer of a bedside table and softly instructed the warrior to remove his tunic.
Glorfindel gave him another suspicious look and the Noldo laughed again, producing a jar of ointment. "This is a balm made from sweet potatoes, it will soothe the ache in your side."
Glorfindel sighed and looked at his friend. "I fear nothing will soothe this ache."
Gildor wiggled the jar in his hand. "Could it hurt to try?"
Glorfindel smiled sheepishly and began removing his tunic. "I suppose not." He stripped his tunic and laid it across a chair as Gildor turned down the covers upon his bed. The air in the room was warm from a fire that burned in the hearth and the warrior took a seat on the side of the bed. Gildor tossed him a long nightshirt and told him to remove his boots and leggings and the warrior complied. The Noldo Lord turned his back as the warrior undressed, resisting the urge to steal a glance at his nude form. He turned back to the bed and lifted the sheets. "Under the blankets, mellon."
Glorfindel complied and slid beneath the covers. He had to admit, the bed was more than comfortable and the linen sheets were soft and warm against his skin. It had been a long time since he slept in a bed so comfortable, since he slept in his own in Gondolin.
"Lift your nightshirt, so I can apply this balm."
He rolled to his side and lifted the shirt as Gildor sat on the edge of the bed beside him, the sheets rested just above his hip. Gildor slid them down an inch, to where the scar began, and gently rubbed the balm into his side along the length of the scar, each touch of his hand sent a strange shiver through the warrior's frame. As Gildor leaned over and applied the balm, Glorfindel could detect the scent of lavender and rosemary that came from the elf Lord's hair and he felt a warming sensation from the balm. For reasons he could not understand, he was strangely comforted by Gildor's presence, and he sighed as he closed his eyes.
Gildor gently pulled the nightshirt back down and pulled the covers up around Glorfindel's chest. "There, now you rest. Sleep as long as you like, I will be in the other room."
Glorfindel grasped Gildor's arm as he rose from the bed. "Thank you, mellon."
Gildor smiled. "It is my pleasure, Glorfindel." He blew out the candle next to the bed and quietly left the warrior to his well-deserved rest.
~*~*~*~
"So where is he now?" Erestor asked, his shoulders filling the Noldo's doorway.
Gildor motioned to his bedroom. "Asleep, in there. He is weary, my Lord. he carries a heavy burden."
Erestor nodded as Gildor invited him inside. He spoke in hushed tones, "I am worried about him, Gildor. He is damaged, wounded beyond what happened to his body. Why Mandos sent him to us in this condition is beyond me."
Gildor nodded in agreement. "Perhaps it is up to us to heal him, my Lord? He is all alone in this world, no kin, no friends, all whom he knew perished in Gondolin."
Erestor shook his head as he took a seat by the fire. "I know nothing of healing, Gildor. I am a soldier, a diplomat, nothing more."
Gildor leaned forward and replied, "As am I, my Lord. But we are all he has now, we must do what we can."
Erestor glanced through the doorway at the sleeping figure upon the bed, then sat back in his chair and stroked his chin. "How do you do it, Gildor? How do you sit here with me when he is in your bed?"
Gildor frowned and cocked his head. "I am not sure I understand your meaning, my Lord."
Erestor smiled wryly. "Come now, Gildor. Are you telling me you have not noticed how beautiful he is? Is it not tempting to have one so glorious in your bed?"
Gildor smiled in return. "But of course it is, my Lord. However, that is not what he needs now, he needs my friendship, and that is what I intend to give him."
Erestor nodded. "Yes, but he may be in need of a different kind of companionship. I know someone who would be more than willing to provide it if he expresses an interest."
Gildor smiled broadly. "And would that someone be you, my Lord?"
Erestor frowned. "Of course not. I am referring to Galdor, he is more than able to provide our warrior with some comfort, if that is what is needed."
Gildor leaned forward, propping his elbows upon his knees. "And how do you know this, my Lord?"
Erestor smiled wryly. "I have been a recipient of Galdor's charms from time to time, `tis no secret."
A knock upon the door ended their conversation and Gildor rose to open it, finding one of Elrond's secretaries. "My Lord Gildor. There is a group of Sindar at the gates requesting shelter. They look as if they have come under attack."
Gildor nodded. "I will be right there."
Erestor waved him on. "Go on, I will stay here. Send for me if you need me."
Gildor grabbed his cloak. "Aye, my Lord."
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