Title & Chapter Number: Fate's Mirror 5/?
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
Thranduil emerged from his quarters and made for Erestor's office. He had bathed and changed into the tunic and leggings he had planned to say goodbye to his mother in. His hair was braided, and he wore a medallion around his neck that spoke of his office. Few that had seen him that morning would recognize him now, dressed in dark green velvet and silver silk, every part the prince. He strode down the hall, tall and proud, caring little for those who took notice of him. He stood before the Counselor's door and knocked firmly before hearing the invitation to enter.
Erestor looked up from his work to see the Prince of Greenwood standing before him in formal attire. He rose from his chair and placed his hand over his heart and bowed his head in respect. He had half his staff searching for the Prince yet again for a good part of the afternoon, then, true to form, the Prince just appeared at his office door. "My Lord, my Lord Elrond requests to speak with you before you meet with our King. Would this be permissible?"
Thranduil narrowed his eyes for a moment, then replied, "Of course, lead the way, Counselor."
Thranduil followed the Noldo from his office, down the hall to meet with Lord Elrond.
~*~*~*~
Glorfindel awoke and rolled over, reaching out for his lover's warm body and finding the bed empty. He frowned as he sat up and looked around the room, finding the young one gone. He stretched and yawned as he realized he was no longer having difficulty sleeping; in fact, he seemed to be sleeping a little too much. He rose from the bed and wrapped a robe around him before building a fire in the hearth and putting a large kettle on to boil water for a bath. He then crossed to his bureau and unpacked the few personal belongings he brought with him, retrieving his comb as he began to work it through his hair.
He smiled as he took note of the disheveled state he was in; the young lad had truly tumbled him well. He chuckled to himself as he remembered the young one's teasing glances, then smiled as he remembered his soft caress. His fingers trailed down his side, along the length of his scar and he sighed when he remembered how delicious the young beauty's lips felt upon it. "Aiya, Amras, or whatever your name is… you have made a mess of me, melethron," he whispered to the empty room. He sat in a large overstuffed chair by the fire as he waited for the water to boil, his hands folded in his lap and his eyes closed. He shifted when he thought of his lover's decadent heat, how tight he was, and how yielding. He whispered to himself, "You have been bewitched, mellon, bewitched by a fair youth… so fair a youth."
A soft knock upon the door caused the warrior's lips to curve into a smile. "Come..." he called as he rose from his chair, expecting to see his young lover. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw the chambermaid enter, and he wrapped his robe around himself tighter and tied it closed.
She averted her eyes and blushed prettily. "Forgive me, my Lord. I did not know…"
Glorfindel blushed a little himself, and answered, "'Tis alright, meldis. Enter."
She bowed slightly and continued, "Lord Erestor has requested that I deliver a few things to your chamber to make you more comfortable. I have some extra blankets and pillows, and some candles, and flowers to freshen the air."
Glorfindel bid her enter. "Please, come in. Go about your work, you are not disturbing me."
The chambermaid made her way around the room, placing lanterns, candles, and vases with flowers here and there. She placed extra blankets and pillows in a large armoire and finally brought out a long robe, colored in gold and cream and pale green and hung it in the other side of the armoire.
"What is that?" the warrior asked.
"That is a robe Lord Erestor had made for you to wear on formal occasions, such as this evening," she replied.
The warrior raised an eyebrow. "This evening? What is this evening?"
She answered, "A delegation arrived unexpectedly from Greenwood just yesterday. The Prince, Thranduil Oropherion, arrived with them and the High King is throwing a small dinner in his honor. Lord Erestor said you should attend. Half the seamstresses in the palace worked on this robe to finish it in time. I hope it meets your Lord's approval."
He fingered the lush fabric and nodded. "Indeed it does."
She produced a carved wooden box. "Lord Gildor asked that I deliver this to you. He said you would need it this evening."
He took the box and nodded. "Thank you, meldis."
She blushed again and bowed. "I will leave you to your preparation, my Lord." She exited the room quietly.
He opened the box and found several jeweled clips inside. He slowly removed one and held it up. A lump formed in his throat as he turned it over in his fingers. They were his clips, ones he had once used as Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. How Gildor came to take possession of them, he did not know, and he wondered how many other things his good friend would surprise him with.
He heard the water begin to boil in the kettle and he placed the thick leather glove on his hand, lifting the heavy kettle and pouring the contents into the bath. He then refilled it from the pump in the corner of his room and heated the second batch.
Finally, he sank into the warm bath, finding an assortment of soaps and scented oils on a tray beside the large tub. He dunked his head beneath the water and applied shampoo, washing his hair and skin clean before finally emerging from the warm water. He dried himself with the plush cloths left by the chambermaid and walked to the armoire, retrieving the robe and laying it across the foot of his bed. He in the large chair, combing through his wet hair and allowing it to dry with the heat of the fire.
His thoughts drifted to his days in Gondolin, of his fine home, his stable of horses, to those who worked in his house and those who were his friends, to the one he once loved. "They are all dead and gone," he whispered. His house was in ruins, his homeland destroyed and lying at the bottom of the sea. All that was left of those days were six small, jeweled clips in a wooden box.
His thoughts then turned to his lover. He was sure that he was part of the delegation from Greenwood, and suspected their sudden arrival had something to do with trouble, considering the state his young friend had been in when he found him. He wondered again who this young beauty was, a soldier in the Prince's service perhaps… His nimble fingers braided his hair and he began placing the clips in it as he worked.
~*~*~*~
Thranduil sat across from Lord Elrond in his stately office. The Standard Bearer to the King observed his guest with some curiosity before finally speaking. "Let me offer my condolences to you, your majesty, for the loss of your mother."
Thranduil nodded. "Le hannon, Lord Elrond, it is much appreciated."
Elrond continued, "I was hoping you could provide some information to me, my Lord."
Thranduil sat back in his chair, his legs crossed and his hands in his lap. "What sort of information, Lord Elrond?"
"I believe the Dark Lord is gathering strength in the east. There has been rumor that he is building a fortress in the Land of Mordor," he replied. He rested his folded hands upon the desk and leaned forward. "I had hoped you would be able to shed some light upon this rumor."
Thranduil sighed. "I have not been to Mordor, Elrond, nor have any of my kin, so what goes on beyond the lands just east of our forest is unknown to us; we do not venture far from the great wood. What I can tell you is this, smoke pours from Orodruin ceaselessly, and those who roam the lands east of our borders do so at great risk." He looked down at his hands. "I have had dreams of late…"
Elrond swallowed. "What sort of dreams, your majesty?"
Thranduil returned his gaze to the Peredhil. "Evil dreams, dark dreams. My mother was plagued with them as well." He sighed. "'Twas why she left our lands for the west, she feared evil was coming."
Elrond answered softly, "What do you see in these dreams, my Lord?"
Thranduil closed his eyes. "The eastern sky grows dark. Swarms of black death pour from the mountains in the east, fires in my homeland, black death swallows all in its path." He took a deep breath and continued, "Scores of elves and men in a great battle upon the eastern plains, death all around. My father thinks they are childish nightmares, caused by rash talk from my mother. He does not believe there is an evil great enough to destroy the elves, now that Morgoth has been banished. He doubts the strength of the Dark Lord, Sauron, he counts him as no more than a petty servant to a exiled master." Elrond sighed and shook his head. The Prince continued, "I answered him that to underestimate an enemy is to look for our own downfall, but he dismissed me."
Elrond answered quietly, "You disagree with your father then?"
Thranduil nodded. "Aye, though to tell you this is to risk much on my part. If my father knew I openly disagreed with him, he would surely punish me."
Elrond smiled wryly. "You are wise, young Thranduil, and you are right. Sauron is not to be underestimated. However, your secret is safe with me, I will tell no one that you hold such an opinion."
Thranduil looked at his lap for a moment. "Is the King in need of good soldiers, Lord Elrond? For I have no more reason to return home, now that my mother is gone."
Elrond looked kindly upon the young Prince. "You do not wish to return to your father?"
Thranduil shook his head. "Nay, good Lord. I am but a burden to him and no comfort. I am well trained in both archery and use of a sword, I can ride better than any in my realm…"
Elrond smiled gently. "I will speak to the King about it on your behalf, my Lord."
Thranduil nodded. "Many thanks, Lord Elrond. I will not forget your kindness."
Elrond nodded and smiled. He rose from his chair. "We should go to meet the King now, my Lord. Will you follow me?"
Thranduil smiled and followed the elf Lord into the King's private quarters.
~*~*~*~
Glorfindel emerged from his quarters, adorned in his formal robes, with his hair braided as he had once done long ago. He closed the door behind him and turned to meet Gildor in the hallway.
"Mae govannen, mellonamin," the Noldo Lord said quietly. "You look stunning, Glorfindel."
Glorfindel smiled and placed a hand upon his friend's shoulder. "Mae govannen, mellon. Attending the dinner tonight?" he questioned, noting his friend's formal attire.
Gildor smiled and nodded. "Aye, it will be you and I, Erestor, Lord Elrond, the Prince of Greenwood, Thranduil Oropherion, and the High King himself." As they started down the hall Gildor clasped his hands behind his back. "So, what have you been up to this afternoon? You have been in your quarters all day, I assume?"
Glorfindel nodded and smiled. "Yes, I was resting. It seems I am no longer plagued by nightmares and I have been catching up on much lost sleep." He turned to face his friend. "By the way, I received the package you sent me this afternoon." He motioned to his hair. "Just how did you happen to come by these? I thought all remnants of my old life were lost."
Gildor reached up and gently touched one of the combs. "Aahh.. they are lovely, mellon. I was part of a search party sent in shortly after the orcs vacated the city. We were looking for any survivors. Unfortunately, we found none. However, I was able to rescue a few things from your home, as I was assigned to that area. I have a few more of your belongings in my quarters that I am happy to be able to return to you."
Glorfindel smiled. "And I am eager to receive them. This is an excellent copy, by the way, of my original ceremonial gowns."
Gildor laughed. "Lord Elrond is quite the lore master, Glorfindel. There is little he does not know about you or your city." He clasped his friend by the elbow. "Come, mellonamin, let us get there before the best wine is consumed."
Glorfindel chuckled and followed his friend as their pace quickened toward the King's private dining room.
~*~*~*~
The meeting between Lord Elrond, Gil-galad, and Thranduil had been successful. The King expressed his condolences and Thranduil graciously accepted them. Much of the conversation was centered around goings on in Greenwood the Great and eventually turned toward the subject of impending war. Thranduil informed the King and Elrond that they had seen no sign of Sauron's evil in Eriador until they crossed the river Baranduin. From that point they were tracked by a pack of warg riders until they were finally attacked some 50 miles west of the halfling township of Michel Delving. Lord Elrond informed them that Amras had been of the opinion that the purpose of the attack had been to kidnap the Queen and her son, but Thranduil disagreed. He stated the orcs had but one purpose, to murder each and every elf in the traveling company; they showed no intention of leaving anyone alive. After lengthy discussion the three elves adjourned for dinner in the next room.
Glorfindel was standing by the wine table near the door, chatting with Gildor and sipping his wine when the three came in the room. He set down his goblet and prepared to greet the Prince when he found himself face to face with his lover. Without thinking, he placed his hand upon the Prince's shoulder and drew him into an embrace. "Amras! What are you doing here?"
Thranduil's eyes widened in surprise and he found himself also embracing the warrior, suddenly wanting nothing more than to bury his face in those shining golden locks forever.
Erestor nearly dropped his goblet and exclaimed, "Glorfindel! What are you doing? Unhand the Prince immediately!"
Gildor, Gil-galad, and Elrond stood by in a state of disbelief. The warrior's lack of decorum was utterly shocking.
Glorfindel's heart skipped a beat when the truth of the matter sank in. **Now, how to cover this up?** he wondered to himself. He released the Prince, who was also at a bit of a loss as to what to do next, and bowed low, taking his hand and kissing a ring that bore the signet of his house upon it. "Forgive me, my Lord. Your resemblance to one I once knew is overwhelming. I have forgotten my place. I meant no offense."
Gildor chimed in, "He has been tired, your highness. He traveled far to come here and has had little rest since he arrived."
Thranduil took a deep breath and struggled to regain his composure. He smiled and answered as formally as he could, "No offense taken, Lord Glorfindel. I have often been told I remind others of ones they know. Please, rise."
Glorfindel stood up and looked his lover in the eye, trying to maintain his composure and his temper. "Many thanks, my Lord. `Tis an honor to meet you."
Thranduil smiled. "No, the honor is mine, Lord Glorfindel. `Tis not everyday I am introduced to so honorable a Lord."
Gildor let out the breath he had been holding as Erestor grasped the doorway to steady himself. Elrond merely chuckled and Gil-galad shook his head in mild disbelief. The party took their seats at the table and the first course of dinner was brought in.
~*~*~*~
After a lengthy dinner, during which Glorfindel was seated next to Gildor, two seats down from the Prince, they adjourned to the King's study to partake of some fine brandy by the fire. Each moment was more excruciating for Glorfindel; he had so many questions he needed answers to, namely, why his lover had masqueraded as someone other than who he was.
After several hours of conversation, the Prince rose and excused himself for the night, citing near exhaustion from the disastrous journey. Several minutes later, the gathering adjourned for the evening and each elf Lord made their way to their respective quarters. As they stepped into the hallway, Gildor chuckled, "Well, that was an interesting evening." He turned to Glorfindel. "Perhaps you should take the day off tomorrow, mellonamin. I believe exhaustion has impaired your judgement."
Erestor caught the warrior's arm. "Just what was that in there, Glorfindel? How do you know the Prince?"
Glorfindel feigned innocence and answered, "But I do not, my Lord. I had never set eyes upon him until this evening. As I said, he reminded me of another."
Erestor frowned and answered, "Indeed. Well, perhaps Gildor is right. Take the day off from your duties tomorrow. I will see you in my office after the breakfast hour the following day." Glorfindel thought to protest, then decided otherwise. Having the day off would give him an opportunity to question his lover further. "Thank you, my Lord," he replied. He bowed his head in farewell and turned toward his chamber.
~*~*~*~
As he entered his chamber, he found the room dimly let by the fire in the fireplace. As he looked to his bed he found his young lover, whom he now knew to be the Prince of Greenwood, stretched out on top of his coverlet wearing nothing but a thin velvet gown. He furrowed his brow, unsure as to whether he should throttle the young Prince or ravish him; he was indeed of rare beauty.
"My Lord…" he bowed his head in respect.
Thranduil groaned. "Now this is exactly why I did not want you to know who I was. Now you are going to treat me differently."
Glorfindel stalked toward the bed and flopped on the edge. "What do you expect me to do, my Lord? You are of royal blood, you are above my station, to do anything else would be…"
Thranduil sat up and grasped the collar of the warrior's robe in his hands and pressed a bruising kiss to the warrior's lips.
As they broke their kiss the warrior continued, "When I think of how I handled you this afternoon, how I…"
Another bruising kiss, this time he pressed his tongue inside the warrior's mouth, plundering its depths and earning a moan from the warrior. With that, Glorfindel was silenced and he gazed into Thranduil's eyes. The Prince answered, "You did exactly what I wanted you to do, Glorfindel. Now please, I beg you, do not treat me as if I were some rare historical object, and do not address me as `my Lord' again."
Glorfindel smiled. "Yes, m… Thranduil."
The Prince smiled and caressed his lover's face. "By Elbereth, Glorfindel, you are radiant."
Glorfindel smiled and whispered, "As are you, melethron." He leaned forward and lowered his lover to the bed, covering the Prince's body with his own as tasted his sweet mouth.
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