Title & Chapter Number: Fate's Mirror 13/?
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: 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. I couldn't bear the thought of brave Celebrimbor tortured and stuck upon a pole, so I changed his ending here… I just can't write an elf being tortured.
Spring, 1697, Second Age, Eregion
The attack upon Eregion waged on for another month; then, when things were at their worst, a fresh wave of orcs came swarming over the mountains with another up from the south. At the head of the battalion coming from the south was a tall figure that many might have mistaken for an elf; but no elf would lead such demons. The Lord Celebrimbor knew whom the fell creature was leading the final assault on his once fair city; it was the one whom he once trusted, Annatar.
Finally, the city could be held no longer. Gildor and his regiment, along with those from Eregion and the east that had fought with him retreated west, toward Lindon, almost having to drag the High King from the failing city. They provided a decoy to draw the incoming orcs from the east and the south away from the northern part of the city. Soon after the main host escaped, Lord Elrond, along with Erestor and Glorfindel, led the refugees safely north, where in time, Elrond founded the haven of Imladris deep in a hidden and sheltered canyon.
Celebrimbor, Lord of Eregion, celebrated smith and creator of the three most powerful rings possessed by the elves, refused to leave his city until the last resident was safe, then he was taken by orc captains. Glorfindel, covering the rear of the column of refugees, turned and saw the proud Noldo struggling against six orcs attempting to chain him. The hero of Gondolin and renowned Balrog Slayer raised his bow and took aim; he let fly an arrow that would bring the swift and painless death of the once great Lord, thereby stealing Sauron's greatest prize from his cruel grasp.
Erestor turned and saw the warrior's final act of mercy and valor in the battle for Eregion, and tears rimmed his eyes as he watched his kinsman fall. He said a prayer to speed his sprit to the Halls of Waiting then continued ushering females and elflings along the narrow path through the foothills of the Misty Mountains.
It was a hard, tense four-day trek through the rocky passes before they crossed into the valley, the sound of rushing water greeting their ears as they crossed the last hill. Once they arrived, they erected crude shelters to serve as homes while the craftsman of Eregion set about building a haven to replace the one that had been stolen from them. Long months passed, but before the turning of the seasons from summer to fall, the haven of Imladris had taken shape. It would grow over time to house guests from all over Middle Earth, but in the fall of the year 1697 it was a simple, comfortable place, a refuge from the growing dangers of Middle Earth.
Erestor settled into his role of advisor with customary grace, managing communications between Lindon and Imladris, seeing to the business of a growing community. Glorfindel became Elrond's seneschal, overseeing the daily household operations and Imladris' defenses, and he saw that the haven was well secured. A few orc scouts were found near the borders, but they never returned, their bodies burned well away from the outlying areas of the haven.
One unusually warm afternoon, before the autumnal equinox, the refuge of Imladris was abuzz with activity. The residents were preparing for a modest celebration of the coming of fall and the ending of the harvest. The fertile valley had yielded a great crop of fruits, grains, and vegetables, so the elves' stores were loaded until bursting. Erestor oversaw the growth and harvest of the first crop of grapes that would be made into fine wine, and he was more than pleased with the result. He walked down the path to the lower levels of the refuge, where the soldiers' barracks, stables, public baths, and cellars that would eventually store the wine were built, twirling a bunch of grapes in between his fingers. He whistled unchararistically and popped a ripe berry in his mouth, contentedly munching upon it as he rounded the bend.
What he saw caused him to stop dead in his tracks. A vision of pure strength and virility greeted his wide eyes. Before him was an elf, nay not just an elf, but one that surely had to be part Vala. Who this elf was, he did not know, as the elf was wearing his undershirt draped over his head, shielding him from the rays of the sun. The elf's skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat, and his muscles rippled and danced beneath his alabaster skin. The elf was working with the smiths and builders, putting the final touches on Erestor's beloved cellar. Erestor shrank back into the bushes as he watched the elf reemerge from the rough-hewn caves for another timber. Dirt peppered the elf's chest and shoulders and Erestor swallowed, feeling a brief stirring sensation in his loins as he took in this vision of male perfection. The elf was looking back over his shoulder, listening to something one of the smiths was saying when a sound he would have known anywhere rang in his ears. The elf in question laughed heartily, bending over and slapping his thigh in response to a particularly bawdy joke told by one of the smiths. As the elf turned around Erestor's shocked gaze took in the face of Glorfindel.
"What in Eru's name?" Erestor whispered to himself as he watched the warrior pick up a particularly cumbersome timber and turn back toward the cavern. "Why is he here? Why is he doing this?" he continued to question himself. He swallowed and tugged upon his tunic, glancing down to make sure his appearance did not give his current mental state away, and stepped back onto the path, continuing down to the cavern.
"Mae Govannen," he greeted the workers politely.
"Mae Govannen, my Lord," the head of the crew responded.
Erestor perused the cavern opening and answered, "This is coming along quite well. You are ahead of schedule it seems."
The crew master nodded and smiled. "Hannon lle, my Lord. We have been working everyday to complete it in time for the delivery of the barrels." Glorfindel stepped out of the cavern and smiled warmly at his friend as the crew master continued, "Fortunately, Lord Glorfindel offered to assist us in his spare time and has been of great help."
Glorfindel smiled and removed the undershirt from his head, wiping the sweat and dirt from his brow and chest. He shook his head, his loose, damp, golden locks swinging about his head as he did so. "You are just being kind, Galen, " he replied. "I know nothing of your art; I merely do as I am told. I am but a workhorse."
"A magnificent one at that," Erestor murmured under his breath.
"Pardon?" the crew master asked.
"Nothing…" Erestor waived the elf off. "Well, may I see inside?" he asked innocently.
"Of course," the crew master answered, and moved to guide him inside.
A voice called from up the hill, "Galen! We have a leak in the bathhouse masonry, we need you up here!"
Galen grumbled then turned to Glorfindel. "Glorfindel, would you mind escorting the Lord Erestor inside and showing him what we have completed thus far?"
Glorfindel shook his head and smiled. "Not at all. Come, Erestor, watch your step." He picked up a lantern and guided his friend inside.
Erestor swallowed as the warrior took him by the elbow and led him inside the caverns, stepping over timbers and masonry blocks as they went.
"Galen and his smiths have done excellent work, "Glorfindel said softly. "He said your design was very good, he could not have done better."
Erestor nodded and uttered the occasional "um-hmm" as he tried to concentrate on where he was going, on anything other than the nearly unbearable allure of Glorfindel's bare chest. The warrior grasped his hand and guided it up to touch the stone walls.
"See how perfectly fit these stones are? You can barely see the seams."
Even as his hand caressed the cool stone of the wall, his eyes wandered over the warrior's sculpted chest. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to focus on the cellar, rather than the nearly irresistible temptation of his friend's intoxicating scent and smooth skin.
"Erestor?" Glorfindel questioned with a raised eyebrow. "Are you all right?"
His mind screamed at him to stop as his hand drifted from the wall and came to rest upon one perfect pectoral muscle, but it appeared his body had a will of its own, and he leaned forward, closing the distance between them. The sensation of Glorfindel's hands upon his shoulders shocked him from his trance just as his lips came to rest upon the warrior's neck. He quickly feigned dizziness to cover his indiscretion.
"Erestor?" Glorfindel asked with no small amount of alarm in his voice. He scooped the counselor up in his arms and quickly carried him outside and underneath the shade of a tree.
Erestor blinked as if he were regaining consciousness and uttered his best moan. "Oh… I am sorry, Glorfindel," he muttered. "It must be the heat, or perhaps it was the closeness of your… I mean the cave."
Glorfindel cocked an eyebrow and looked at the counselor. He had tended to his share of wounded before and this did not sit right with him. His thoughts flashed back to Eregion and the night Erestor slept in his arms. **Was the counselor trying to tell him something? ** He gathered Erestor up as the reserved Noldo barked in surprise and threw his arms around his neck to keep from toppling out of his grasp. "Well, I must take you to see Lord Elrond. We cannot have his most trusted advisor fainting." He bit back a smile as he carried Erestor, who was beginning to struggle against him, up the hill to Lord Elrond's chambers.
Erestor wavered between leaning into the comfort of the Vanya's embrace and feeling an intense need to escape him immediately. If Glorfindel got as far as Lord Elrond's chambers, his ruse would be discovered and he would be more than embarrassed. He took a deep breath and answered, "No, really, I am fine, Glorfindel. Put me down please."
Glorfindel marched up the hill without pause, shaking his head and answering, "No, I really think you need to see a healer, and I am sure that Lord Elrond would insist upon seeing you himself."
Erestor began to struggle. "Glorfindel, really! This is ridiculous. Put me down, immediately!"
Glorfindel shook his head. "Nay, my friend. You took care of me even when I refused to let you do so, I think I should do the same for you."
Erestor could not seem to escape the warrior's grasp, finally, like an elfling throwing a temper tantrum, he arched his back and yelled, "Put me down this instant, you brute!"
Glorfindel promptly dropped him in a deep pile of leaves next to the trail and fell upon him, covering his body with his own. He pinned the counselor's wrists to the ground, but not without struggle, and leaned in. "So this is what you want then, is it? Why did you not say so, Erestor? I am no stranger to the occasional tumble now and again."
Erestor stammered and squirmed beneath him, now painfully aware of how aroused their current position was making him. "I do not want a `tumble' as you put it, Glorfindel."
"No?" the warrior questioned. "You were not fainting in the cellar, Erestor, and you are no stranger to deeper and darker places than that one. If a tumble is not what you want, then what do you want?"
"I want you to let me up, now," Erestor answered flatly.
"Fine," Glorfindel replied, and he rose to his feet, extending a hand that was abruptly batted away. He shook his head and stepped back on the path, watching as Erestor rose and brushed the leaves off his robes.
Erestor stepped back onto the path and turned on his heel, heading back up to the main dwellings.
"Will I talk to you at the celebration?" Glorfindel called after him.
"It is doubtful," Erestor replied as he disappeared in a flourish of black robes.
Glorfindel shook his head and slowly walked back down to the cellar.
~*~*~*~
The evening was warm and pleasant, and the night sky was bright with stars as the elves danced around the lawn. The gardens were decorated with candles and lanterns, and soft music played as the fall harvest was celebrated. Glorfindel strode among his fellow revelers, dressed in muted tones of cream and pale blue, and his hair was elaborately braided. He circulated among the members of Elrond's council, as was his duty, but he spent most of the evening carousing with his fellow soldiers and the smiths of Eregion.
Erestor watched him from across the lawn, unable to tear his eyes away from the stunning golden vision that seemed to float amongst more common elves. He sat quietly with Elrond and the fellow council members as he drank from his goblet and watched the warrior. Glorfindel laughed heartily, clapping his fellow revelers upon the back as they joked and eyed the handsome young males and females that danced around them. He found himself wishing he could be more like the warrior, more casual, more lively, perhaps then he would not feel so strangely out of place when he was near him.
Their encounter turned confrontation near the cellar that afternoon had not turned out as he had wanted. He had asked himself why he did not take the warrior up on his offer of `a tumble' as he had so plainly put it. But it seemed that something inside him wanted more than a casual physical encounter. He narrowed his eyes, **but we are too different, he and I, we would never make one another happy…** the more doubting side of his nature chided. **His brash demeanor, his bawdy jokes, he is like an oxen in a glass shop…** He swallowed another draught of brandy. "Though a magnificent one…" he muttered to himself.
Glorfindel felt Erestor's eyes upon him but he did not look. He felt he handled the situation badly that afternoon but was not really sure what to do about it. He had taken things a bit too far, it seemed, and Erestor was not the joking type. It was times like this one that made him miss Gildor; Gildor would have known exactly what to do. He sighed as he thought on his good friend so far away in Lindon.
Arms slipped around his neck and a delectable young male, one of the Noldo smiths, with hair the color of pitch and eyes like twilight murmured in his ear, "Come, Glorfindel. I have had too much wine. Will you escort me to my quarters?"
Glorfindel smiled wolfishly and rose from his seat at the table, placing an arm around the young smith and replying in a husky tone, "Of course, mellonamin. I would not have you falling off the path and twisting your ankle."
The youth laughed softly as Glorfindel swept him up in his arms and carried him away from the celebration.
Erestor watched the Vanya go with no small amount of envy. "Oh to be so young and carefree…" he muttered under his breath. As the warrior left his field of vision, he turned his attentions back to the council members.
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