Title & Chapter Number: Fate's Mirror 16/?
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. Gildor and Glorfindel talk; Gildor and Erestor talk.
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, 1701, Second Age, Imladris
Gildor and Glorfindel sat at the table in the now deserted dining room, eating in silence. The Noldo watched his friend pick at the vegetables and meat on his plate, randomly shoving it around with his fork. He took a bite of succulent roast chicken and watched Glorfindel with curiosity, wondering exactly what had caused his change of mood. It certainly was not the first time Erestor had snapped at either of them, and Glorfindel was not one that he would characterize as over-sensitive. As he chewed the bite of chicken, something that he would have normally considered as highly unlikely occurred to him, but, given the events as of late, it seemed to be the most logical answer.
He took a drink of wine and softly addressed the warrior, "Glorfindel?"
Glorfindel looked up at his plate and smiled half-heartedly. "Yes, mellon?"
"Are you in love with Erestor?" Gildor asked plainly.
Glorfindel dropped his fork on his plate with a loud clang and stared at his friend with open-mouthed surprise. He regained his composure and sat back in his chair. "What causes you to ask me such a thing?" he stammered.
Gildor calmly went about cutting his meat and continued, "Your reaction to him this evening, and the way you are acting now. It is clear that you are upset, and I do not believe that his barking at you has anything to do with your current mood. I have seen the two of you engage in far more volatile shouting matches than that one."
Glorfindel picked up his fork and resumed moving his food around as he shook his head. "Surely, I do not know what you are referring to, nor why such a wild idea would occur to you in the first place. Erestor and I are friends, Gildor, nothing more. I am worried about his health, that is all."
Gildor nodded and chewed his food for a moment then placed his fork and knife on his plate. "Of course, and why should you not be?" Gildor continued, "After all, he is so young and fragile. Frankly, I am surprised he is able to make it up and down the stairs without twisting an ankle. I mean, really, Erestor is nothing more than a weak…"
Glorfindel held up his hand and interrupted his friend. "Point taken, Gildor. I know Erestor is not fragile or weak. Nevertheless, his injury was serious, how Lord Elrond was able to heal him, I know not. It is by the grace of the Valar that he is still with us."
Gildor nodded and sat back in his chair. "Yes, I agree. However, I have known Erestor longer than you, Glorfindel. He is the strongest, most cunning, most determined elf I have ever known. Erestor is no stranger to hardship, what he endured before coming to Lindon…" His voice trailed off for a moment and he closed his eyes. He opened them again and continued, "Life with Feanor's sons was no holiday, Glorfindel. The exiles lived for ages pursuing that which they could not have, driven by need and desire to fulfill the oath that doomed them." He took a deep breath. "Erestor has suffered much hardship, Glorfindel, and he has never let it crush him. He has fought long and hard to regain his independence. The pain in his face last night was not of a physical nature."
Glorfindel closed his eyes. Could his friend be right? Could there be more in Erestor's heart than friendship for him? He remembered the first time he saw the Counselor standing in the hall of Gil-galad's court, as the Noldo looked him over and questioned him. He remembered how hauntingly beautiful he was, his raven hair and gray eyes, his heavy, dark velvet robes draped about him like a shroud to hide his beauty from the world.
When he opened his eyes, he gazed into Gildor's warm face. "I am afraid, Gildor," he nearly whispered, "he is so different than me, so… reserved, so… complicated."
Gildor smiled broadly and nodded. "So, then it is as I suspected, you are in love with him." He folded his hands in his lap and nodded. "Aye, he is reserved and complicated. However, he is also strong, kind, and passionate; and though he has had many lovers, he has never been in love. If you care for him as I suspect you do, Glorfindel, you must tell him. He is too proud to come to you, too afraid of being rejected by you. Both of you deserve love, Glorfindel, and though you do not see it, the two of you are truly meant for one another." He sat forward and reached across the table and took the Vanya's hand. "Running away will not work, Glorfindel. His image and voice will haunt you for the rest of your days, you will always regret not trying, not finding out for sure."
Glorfindel's eyes widened. "How did you know?" he asked softly.
Gildor shook his head and chuckled. "Ai, Glorfindel. You are like a book, lying open on a table for all to read. You do not want to leave Imladris. I see how much you love your home here, and I remember how uncomfortable you were in Lindon, how you felt you never fit in. You seek to go to Lindon to be away from this torment of being so close to one you have wanted for so long. Perhaps you are fooling yourself with this, but you do not fool me." He sighed and continued. "You said once you thought Mandos sent you back to serve the King. Perhaps it is not the King you are meant to serve. Have you ever considered that it is Lord Elrond that you are meant to serve? After all, were it not for your sacrifice, he would not be here today. Perhaps Mandos sent you here to protect Lord Elrond, for something in my heart tells me he has a very important role to play in the future of Middle Earth."
Glorfindel looked at Gildor with a furrowed brow. He had never considered that he had been sent here for Elrond; it was an accident that he ended up in Imladris in the first place. He had intended to make for Lindon with Gildor's troops, but when the refugees needed more protection, he had gone north. Once in Imladris, there was so much to do, so many who needed help; he just never seemed to be finished. However, he had to admit, Gildor's idea had merit. It would make sense that he was sent here to protect Lord Elrond, whom he was bound to through service to King Turgon. The question was why? What danger lay ahead for Elrond? How could it be more important to protect him than the High King?
He took a deep breath and answered, "Perhaps you are right, mellonamin. I always felt at a loss in Lindon, like I was never really sure what it was that I was supposed to be doing. Since I have come here, my life has had a clear purpose."
Gildor nodded and smiled. "Now," he answered, "it appears you have two more reasons to stay, if you needed them, of course."
Glorfindel nodded and said nothing for a moment. He felt his heart begin to race in his chest and his palms begin to sweat. "Gods, Gildor," he answered softly. "What do I do? What do I say to him? What if he slams the door in my face?" He shook his head. "I have all but flaunted my lovers in front of him. I did not think that was what I was doing at the time, but when I think on it now, I see that is the truth of the matter."
Gildor chuckled and shook his head. "Ai, Glorfindel. Just knock on the door. When he opens it, tell him you love him, tell him that you have been in love with him this whole time. He will either drag you to the bed or slam the door in your face. Either way, you have your answer."
Glorfindel threw his head back and groaned. "I am so glad I asked you, mellonamin. You have been of so much help to me in this matter."
Gildor held up his hands. "I never professed to be an expert on the ways of the heart, Glorfindel. I am but a plain soldier who speaks his mind. Perhaps you should go to Lord Elrond about this. Or better yet, ask Erestor?"
Glorfindel's head snapped forward, his eyebrows raised. "Ask Erestor? Ask Erestor? Are you mad? You expect me to ask the object of my affection how he would advise me to approach one I am in love with?"
Gildor shrugged. "Why not? Who better to ask? Erestor will tell you to woo your interest in the way he would wish to be wooed… then you are sure not to fail."
Glorfindel plunked his elbows upon the table and buried his face in his hands. "No, of course not. I am, however, most apt to make an utter fool of myself and cause Erestor to ask for my resignation."
Gildor laughed and answered, "You must tell him, Glorfindel. If you do not, the two of you will never come together, and frankly, I do not know that I can bear either one of you in this state one moment longer." He pushed his chair back and gathered his dishes. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have much business to attend to in the morning, and a long ride back to Lindon the following day. I am going to get some sleep."
Gildor left the confused and frustrated warrior in the dining room and made his way to his quarters.
~*~*~*~
Erestor awoke in the early morning; he had the day off from his duties as Chief Counselor and typically, he and Glorfindel would have breakfast together. But that morning, images of Glorfindel in Gildor's arms came unbidden to his mind and he tried to shake them off. He did not think he could face the warrior until he had pushed those thoughts way down to where they no longer caused his face to flush with envy. He lay upon his side, gazing out the window at the pale dawn light that caused the snow to glisten, and cursed himself for not acting sooner, if he had, he might have had a chance.
He pulled back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting there for a few moments before rising. He rubbed his side, something that had become a habit it seemed, then stood and crossed the room, making for his armoire. He chose a dark gray silk tunic and black velvet leggings and dressed for the day. As he sat in front of his mirror, combing through his straight raven locks, he thought of Glorfindel and remembered his words to him so long ago in Lindon. `This is a new start for you, a chance to do all that you never had the chance to do before…' It seemed to him at times that Glorfindel had taken that advice a little too much to heart; the warrior threw himself into the pleasures of life with abandon. "But why should I fault him for what I have been known to do myself?" he asked his reflection. `Because you want him to do so with you…' his conscience chided.
A soft knock interrupted his train of thought and he groaned inwardly, facing Glorfindel at that moment was the last thing he needed before his morning tea. "Come," he called. He was surprised to see Gildor's reflection in his mirror and he turned around to face him.
"Gildor, mellonamin. What brings you here this morning? There is not a problem, I hope?"
Gildor closed the door behind him and gently shook his head. "No, Erestor, there is no problem." He stopped himself short and began again, "Actually, that is not true. There is a problem, Erestor."
Erestor rose from his chair and furrowed his brow. "What is it? Did the grain supplies not arrive? Are we missing anything from the list of items to go back to Eregion?"
Gildor sighed and shook his head. "Nay, mellonamin. My problem is of a much more… personal nature."
Erestor winced inwardly; this conversation was about to turn in a direction he was not comfortable with. He answered quietly, "Perhaps you should speak with Glorfindel about it? The two of you have always been quite close." He closed his eyes as soon as the words left his mouth. If he could have dug a pit for himself and climbed in he would have.
Gildor wagged his finger and answered, "This is precisely the problem, Erestor."
Erestor groaned, audibly this time, and put up his hands. "I have no problem with your relationship with Glorfindel, Gildor, and frankly, I would prefer not to discuss it.
Gildor crossed the room and stood directly in front of Erestor. "This is ridiculous, Erestor!" he barked. "Ai! I grow weary of the two of you dancing around one another as you have done for half an age! Admit it, you have wanted him from the day you saw him, you said as much to me that first night in my chamber, and as time has gone on, you have grown to love him. Why you refuse to admit this to yourself is beyond me. But frankly, I grow tired of the entire affair."
Erestor looked at Gildor with his eyes wide and mouth open. He was in a state of shock. He had never seen Gildor do so much as frown much less lose his temper. Even in the face of one of his own tirades, which he admitted to himself could be tough to bear, Gildor had not even batted an eyelash. Now, here the Noldo stood, in his chamber, dressing him down for not pursuing his lover. He furrowed his brow and quietly answered, "I am confused, Gildor. I thought…"
Gildor began to pace in front of him. "You thought, you thought… that is always what you do best is it not? Think? The time for thought is over, Erestor. Now is the time for action." He ceased pacing and took a deep breath, regaining his composure. "Erestor," he began calmly, "what is between Glorfindel and me is not what you think it is. He and I have always been friends, we understand one another, we think alike, we share the same sense of humor, and yes, we have shared a bed, but only twice since he came to us. For all the things we have shared, one thing we have not, is our hearts. I care for Glorfindel deeply, but he is my friend, no more, and he feels the same way about me."
He placed his hand on Erestor's shoulder. "His heart belongs to another, Erestor."
Erestor nodded and softly answered. "Aye, I know. His heart has always belonged to Ecthelion, he will grieve his loss until the end of his days."
Gildor smiled gently, a soft laugh escaping him. "By Gods, Erestor. How can one so brilliant be so thick?"
Erestor's eyes widened. "I beg your pardon?" he asked with no small amount of incredulity.
Gildor fought to restrain the laughter that threatened to burst forth. "Yes," he answered, his voice wavering somewhat. "He will mourn Ecthelion's passing, as will all who once loved him. But the one who I refer to, the one who holds his heart now, is you."
Erestor reached behind him and grasped the top of the chair to steady himself. There was a strange ringing in his ears and he poked his finger in one ear and wiggled it as he shook his head. "I am sorry…" he began with a shaky voice, "I do not think I heard clearly what you said, Gildor."
Gildor chuckled and clasped Erestor's shoulder tighter. "Yes, you did, mellonamin. Glorfindel loves you; he has for years now, only he has been afraid to express it. He is afraid you are too different; he is afraid you do not feel the same way."
Erestor looked into Gildor's eyes, momentarily afraid this was some sort of prank. As he gazed into the eyes of one of his closest friends, he saw the truth in them. "He… loves me?" he asked in a voice that was as soft as a whisper.
Gildor nodded and pressed his forehead to Erestor's, answering softly, "Yes, mellonamin, he does."
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