Title & Chapter Number: Fate's Mirror 12/?
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. Glorfindel arrives in Eregion, the battle wages on, the warrior has an epiphany about one of his best friends.
Notes: I have yet to read the Unfinished Tales or History of ME, so I know there will be inaccuracies in this - so consider this AU.
December, 1696, Second Age, Misty Mountains
Glorfindel and the soldiers he had been able to gather made their way up the Dimril Stair toward Redhorn Pass. He had with him nearly one hundred archers from the realms of Greenwood and Lórien combined and they were making haste toward Eregion. The realm of Lórien fared a little better than Greenwood, as they had advance warning of the attack.
Amroth sent forth seventy of his archers to aid Glorfindel in his attempt to help defend Eregion. He remained behind to see to the refortification of his realm and preparations to fortify the Northern Fences for when the Orcs were driven back over the mountains and back to the accursed land they came from. He sent an additional twenty of his guard to the east to protect Oropher and what was left of his people.
As they climbed the long path up the side of the mountain, they kept an uneasy watch. The passing of Orcs was evident. Glorfindel stood upon a rock, his keen warrior's sight searching out the east gate of Khazad-dûm and finding it shut; they would see no help from the Dwarves in this war. He turned his gaze back up the mountain and continued his march; there was little time to waste.
It took three weeks to traverse the unforgiving mountain pass on foot. In addition to the treacherous conditions, it seemed the Dark Lord had put yet another obstacle in their path, the elements. Winters in the Misty Mountains were never easy, yet in the weeks the elves under Glorfindel's command crossed the mountain; it was the worst anyone could remember seeing. Even the elves had difficulty, trudging into the wind, nearly blinded by blizzards and crushed by avalanches of ice and rock.
By the time they reached Lord Celebrimbor's realm, it was under full attack. Beside the main host of Orcs that attacked the city, bands of the fell beasts roamed over the lands, burning any homesteads they found. The road leading from the West was under their control, so the main host was cut off from any aid. They attacked the rear flank, but were only able to make enough of a dent in the orc line to gain admittance into the city. Once inside, Glorfindel sent his archers to the walls to fortify weakening defenses.
After seeing his archers to their assignments, Glorfindel went to meet with the High King and the other captains to make a full report. He entered Lord Celebrimbor's chambers to inform them of what he had learned. Upon entering the chamber, Lord Elrond greeted him warmly and introduced him to Lord Celebrimbor before requesting his report. The warrior gave a grim accounting of what he found in Greenwood and Lórien, and the mountain crossing.
Glorfindel began, "Oropher's folk were nearly decimated. He lost two thirds of his archers trying to hold back the advancing Orcs. They were surrounded and unable to hold the Great Forest Road, and unable to hold back the swarm that crossed it. He sent twenty archers with me here; it was all he could spare of what was left. He was gravely wounded, but he will recover; his son, Thranduil, remained behind to help defend their people. Amroth's people fared a little better; they had more time to prepare. He sent an additional seventy with me, and is now refortifying the Northern Fences in case the Orcs come back over the mountain." He took a deep breath. "But, my Lords, the inflow of Orcs from the east has not stopped. Each day, our spies watch hundreds cross the Anduin. It seems their focus is on this land; they pay little attention to Greenwood or Lórien now. I believe the Dark Lord's intent is to destroy Eregion."
Gil-galad nodded. "The Dark Lord's anger has been roused since he learned of the forging of the three rings. This is his vengeance for what he sees as a betrayal of his will."
Lord Celebrimbor frowned and in a low voice akin to a growl answered, "His will be damned… I, nor will any of my folk, bow to his will, nor will we yield our lands."
Gil-galad smiled grimly and sat forward in his chair, answering, "Nor will any elf. We will fight to the end, cousin, that I promise you."
~*~*~*~
February, 1697, Second Age, Eregion
The elves of Lindon and the elves of Eregion fought valiently to save the haven from Sauron's forces, but they were overrun time and again. The battle waged on for weeks on end, each side giving ground and regaining it, but each week things looked more hopeless.
Glorfindel climbed the long stair to Lord Celebrimbor's chamber to meet with the Captains. His heart was heavy as he ascended the stair; his hopes of winning this battle were failing with each step he took. It was all too familiar, too much like the fall of his beloved Gondolin. Upon entering Celebrimbor's chamber, he found the High King, Lord Celebrimbor, and Lord Elrond closeted, pouring over battle maps and discussing what to do next. He stood quietly for a moment, waiting for them to acknowledge his presence, before he finally stepped forward and spoke up.
"My Lords," he began, bowing his head and covering his heart with his hand. "This effort is futile, we must break through the line on the west gate and get as many of the females and elflings out of the city as we can. The walls are ripe to fall, my Lords. The city will not be held much longer, and the Dark Lord will not be satisfied until every elf is dead, females and elflings alike."
Gil-galad slammed his fist upon the desk and growled in anger, Lord Celebrimbor sank back into his chair with a sigh of resignation, and Elrond's pale gray eyes met those of Glorfindel's. The standard bearer for the King made no reply for a moment, merely searching Glorfindel's eyes for any sign he may be wrong, then he hung his head and turned to address the King and Lord Celebrimbor.
"My Lords, Glorfindel is correct. We must abandon the city, save those we can."
Glorfindel nodded. "The retreat must be made to the west. Durin's folk have closed the gates of Khazad-dûm; we cannot retreat there. We must make for Lindon. We need time to regroup, supplies and ammunition run low. Soon we will be out of food and water."
Just then, a great cry arose from outside and they rushed to the windows to see what happened. The orcs were retreating again and the elves that drove them back were shouting in triumph. Lord Celebrimbor looked to his friends and said, "I am not ready to yield my home, there is still hope."
They conferred amongst themselves and agreed to try to hold out a bit longer. Glorfindel left the chamber, his head bowed with the news. "We will all die here…" he whispered to himself, "It is but a matter of time." He continued back down the stairs and returned to his men.
~*~*~*~
March, 1697, Second Age, Eregion
The battle waged on. Food and ammunition were almost entirely depleted, rations were now going to females and elflings who were held up in the inner most buildings of the city and in the underground caverns.
It was quiet for the moment, and Glorfindel closed his eyes, listening to the wind cross the mountains.
"Mae govannen, mellonamin." A deep, soft voice greeted his ears. He opened his eyes, gazed up at Erestor, and smiled.
"I wish I could agree, but it is difficult to have a happy meeting in a place such as this."
Erestor sat beside him on the ground and looked him over. His friend was covered in soot and ash and black blood, his face and neck were marred with cuts and bruises. Yet, he still shined as bright as the sun on a June day, his golden hair still radiant despite the grime that marred it. His armor was a little worse for wear, but retained its use, a testimony to the fine craftsmanship that created it. He reached up and brushed the warrior's hair from his face and smiled. "You look as I feel, Glorfindel," he whispered.
Glorfindel smiled ruefully, and answered, "I am sorry you feel so poorly, mellon."
Erestor chuckled and placed an arm around the warrior. "Well, killing and methods of persuasion can take the sparkle from one's eye."
Glorfindel laughed softly. "Yes, I suppose they do." He turned his gaze to Erestor's face and noted the look of grim determination written upon it. The Noldo nearly blended into the shadows except for his ivory skin and sparkling gray eyes, and again he was reminded of Echthelion.
In an uncharacteristic moment of weariness, Erestor laid his head upon Glorfindel's shoulder and sighed as he closed his eyes. "I am tired, mellonamin, and I do not know how much longer we can hold out here. My men look to me for courage, for hope, for faith, and I am afraid I do not have it to give to them."
Glorfindel cradled Erestor's head upon his shoulder and whispered, "We must have hope, Erestor, it is most needed when times are dire." He sighed and continued, "Rest here with me awhile, mellon. You have given me much strength in the past, I will try to do the same for you now."
Erestor shifted, wrapping his arms around the warrior's waist. "Le hannon, Glorfindel. You are a true and good friend."
Glorfindel held him close and closed his eyes. "I am afraid I am not good enough…" his voice trailed off before he finished his thought.
Erestor snuggled against him. "You are far better than you believe, Glorfindel. I am lucky to have you as my friend." He yawned and sighed; his body relaxing as he fell into much needed reverie.
Glorfindel held his friend and watched Ithil cross the sky, he stroked his raven hair and thought of all the words of wisdom Erestor had given him in the past. So often, he had leaned upon Erestor when he felt weak or lonely, now he had the opportunity to repay all that Erestor had given him. As he stroked his friend's unbound hair and felt his warm, soft breath upon his neck, he contemplated his friendship with this reserved elf. He was both enamored and frustrated to no end by the complexities in Erestor's personality. The Noldo was both warm and cool, open and distant. He always felt just a bit young and naïve in Erestor's presence, although he was older than the Noldo. During the extended absence from his friend, he found he missed him more than he would have imagined. When he reentered the city and found Erestor commanding a regiment of elves at the gates he was both profoundly relieved to find him still alive, and grossly worried for his safety.
Time and time again, he had asked himself why he was there, why he was back in Middle Earth. He knew the reason he had been given; that he was to serve Gil-galad and Elrond. However, he could not help thinking it was more than that. Suddenly he had the strange idea that perhaps he was here not only to watch over the King and Lord Elrond, but also to watch over Erestor. A smile crossed his lips as he thought on that; the idea of Erestor needing anyone to watch over him was more than a little humorous. But he resolved to do it nonetheless, at least as best he could. He found himself pressing a soft kiss to the top of the Counselor's head and as he closed his eyes, a name crossed his lips in the faintest of whispers, "Erestor…"
~*~*~*~
Erestor awoke to the pale dawn. Smoke still billowed from the city and the air was filled with its stench. He shifted and looked up into Glorfindel's sleeping face. He looked around and saw they were alone, leaning back against a wall in an alcove near the outer wall of the city. There was still a lull in the battle, which worried him, but for the moment, he was content to remain where he was. He snuggled closer, their bodies had shifted down during the night and they were nearly lying upon the ground. He gently pulled the warrior down, so that he lay flat and he curled against him, wrapping his cloak around both of their bodies. He found it strange that he could be so content, lying upon the cold ground, curled against mail and steel and leather. But content he was, and he could not imagine wanting to be anywhere else at that moment. A wicked smile crossed his lips as he realized that was not exactly true, he would rather be curled against the warrior's hard muscle and soft warm skin in an overstuffed bed in Lindon; but, one does with what one has.
He felt the Vanya shift against him and he closed his eyes quickly, but was unable to completely wipe the smile from his face before Glorfindel awoke.
Glorfindel blinked back from reverie, his neck was a bit stiff from leaning back against the wall, and he would have given his sword arm to take off his armor for just one day, but overall, he felt rested. He craned his neck and looked down at Erestor. The Noldo was still wrapped around him, one arm slung across his chest and one leg insinuated between his own. He felt his friend sigh and shift against him, his head now upturned so that his lips were presented to him in a manner so seductive that it was nearly impossible to resist.
He had not previously considered Erestor this way, but in that moment, the Noldo was breathtakingly beautiful. Erestor's eyes were half closed and his lips were parted slightly, and he swore the corners were turned up in a smile. The sound of footsteps approaching broke his musings and he gently nudged the Counselor.
"Erestor, mellonamin, wake. It is dawn, time to rise," he whispered.
"Mmm?" the Counselor moaned slightly, shifting against the warrior and rolling closer to him.
Glorfindel swallowed; the feeling of Erestor's thigh strategically placed between his own was stirring thoughts and feelings that he had not previously had toward the Counselor. "Ai, Erestor," he grumbled half-heartedly. "Wake before we are found in this position."
Erestor blinked back from his feigned reverie. "Glorfindel?" He yawned playfully and pretended to stretch as if he had just woken up. "Have we slept here all night?"
Glorfindel watched the Counselor `wake up' with suspicion; suddenly he had the feeling that his friend was playing with him. "Yes, we have," he answered and sat up abruptly, nearly toppling the Noldo in his wake.
"Well," Erestor said quietly. "I apologize if I have caused any inconvenience to you, mellonamin."
Glorfindel, feeling ashamed of his reaction, answered quietly, "No, you have not. I am just… stiff, and tired, that is all." He rose to his feet and offered his hand to his friend. Erestor took his hand and rose from the ground with a grace that was nearly unbearable to watch. The Noldo smiled and bowed his head.
"Many thanks, Glorfindel. You have given me at least one night of peace." He bowed slightly and turned on his heal, stalking back out into the city.
Glorfindel watched him go, his black robes flowing out behind him, his hair shining in the pale dawn light, and he knew what passed between them in those hours forever changed how they would see one another. He sighed and walked out into the city, taking a different path and trying to get his mind off his mysterious friend.
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