Title & Chapter Number: Fate's Mirror 30/?
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. The Last Alliance marches on Mordor.
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. Thanks to Orchyd Constyne for Quenya and Sindarin translations, as well as a few borrowed names. I have no clue what happens during a bonding ceremony, so this is off the top of my head, I'm sure it's not correct.
April 3434, Second Age, Fords of Isen
The elves of Greenwood and Lórien camped together at the Fords of Isen, waiting for Gil-galad and the host of Elrond and Elendil to arrive. Thranduil stepped down from the rock he stood upon as he relinquished his watch to his second. So far there had been no sign of orcs, nonetheless, he felt uneasy. He strode toward where he and Gildor made their beds. Sleeping next to one another without taking pleasure in each other was difficult, but there was no privacy to be had camping out in the open, surrounded by elves. His sharp elven ears picked up the sound of footfalls; they were too light to be orcs, so he discerned they must belong to men. He quickly scaled a tree, looking out over the rolling foothills of the Misty Mountains. Among the mens' footfalls, he picked up the sound of horses' hooves and another sound that he would recognize anywhere, bright bells ringing.
His heart leapt in his throat and he whispered, "Glorfindel…" It had been nearly an age since he last saw the first one to ever touch his heart. He leaned out, peering around the branches and brush and he spotted him astride Asfaloth. His golden mane flowed out around him and his gray cloak billowed in the wind. Opposite him rode the dark elf he remembered meeting in Lindon, Erestor, and in front of them rode Elrond and Gil-galad, with the Númenorian King, Elendil and his son, Isildur.
He turned and whistled to the elves hidden in the trees that lined the approach to their encampment, signaling the approach of their allies. He scaled back down the tree and ran to inform his father and King Amdír of their approach as well.
He struggled to contain his excitement as he stood like a dutiful son behind his father. Oropher and Amdír walked out to greet the High King and his host, and Thranduil could barely contain his excitement at seeing Glorfindel again. He suddenly felt like that young elf that the Balrog Slayer had taken to Gildor's bed, so in awe of his beauty, so astounded by his mere presence.
The elves and men dismounted their horses and the captains began preparing camp. Gil-galad stepped forward and greeted Oropher and Amdír, bowing his head and covering his heart with his hand. Oropher was cordial and respectful despite his suspicion, and he returned the gesture. Gil-galad, Elrond and Elendil walked with the two elven Kings into a tent where maps were displayed on the table. Thranduil remained behind, nodding to Isildur as he passed and tilted his head. He felt like he was rooted to the spot upon which he stood, unable to move as he stared at the ground in front of him.
He saw the tips of two dusty boots step into his line of sight and he held his breath.
"Thranduil? Mellonen?"
It was Glorfindel. Thranduil trembled slightly as two fingers turned his chin upward, bringing his gaze to that of the Elda's. He managed a shy smile and answered, "Mae Govannen, Glorfindel."
"By Elbereth, Thranduil," Glorfindel whispered. "You have changed so much." The Elda placed his hands on Thranduil's shoulders and smiled. "Look at you, you are so strong, you have become a warrior…"
Thranduil smiled and answered softly, "'Tis good to see you, Glorfindel." He laughed softly as the Elda pulled him into an embrace and he wrapped his arms around Glorfindel's waist as he pressed his cheek to the warrior's shoulder. It felt so good to just be there again, nestled in his first love's embrace. He squeezed Glorfindel's waist and smiled as he felt the warrior's hands caress his hair. He knew Glorfindel loved another, and he loved Gildor, that had not changed; he could not see the harm in this little indulgence, especially when many of them would not return.
Glorfindel released his friend and smiled as he gazed into his sapphire eyes. Thranduil's body may have changed, but his open and kind expression had not, within this warrior's body lived that beautiful young prince that had once so enraptured his heart. "I have missed you, mellonen," he said quietly. "I have thought of you often."
Thranduil nodded and replied, "I have thought of you as well." He reached up and took Glorfindel's left hand, running his thumb over the band that encircled his ring finger. "You are happy I see," he said softly.
Glorfindel nodded and smiled. "Yes, I am. Erestor and I belong together, just as you and Gildor belong together."
Thranduil smiled and looked into the warrior's eyes. "Strange, is it not? How we have all ended up here? You with Erestor, and me with Gildor?"
Glorfindel chuckled as he replied, "Yes, it is strange, but in a wonderful way, do you not think so?" He watched Thranduil's expression cloud over as he continued to look at the band on his finger. "Thranduil? Mellonen? Is everything well?"
Thranduil took a deep breath and schooled his expression to one of appropriate happiness. "Yes, of course, Glorfindel," he answered quietly as he released the warrior's hand. "I am just preoccupied with the battle to come, that is all." He tugged at the sleeve of Glorfindel's tunic. "Come, let me show you where you and Erestor will be sleeping this night." He led the Elda away from the Kings' tents and to a small meadow.
~*~*~*~
Erestor watched the exchange between his betrothed and the Sinda Prince with a smile on his face. The happiness in his mate's eyes upon finally seeing Thranduil once more filled his own heart with joy. He knew Glorfindel would always hold a place in his heart for Thranduil, and it did not bother him, the Elda's heart was big enough for them both.
"Erestor!"
He turned to see Gildor coming down the hill, bow in hand and a broad smile upon his face. He smiled and bowed his head, covering his heart with his hand. "Gildor, meldir, `tis good to see you again."
He huffed as Gildor drew him into a strong embrace, crushing him against his broad chest, and he chuckled as he put his arms around his fellow Noldo and patted him on the back.
Gildor drew back and spotted the ring that Erestor wore. He smiled knowingly and nodded. "It is time the two of you sealed your relationship," he playfully chided. "Now perhaps the rest of us can stop worrying about you."
Erestor raised one eyebrow and answered, "Worrying? Meddling is more like it."
Gildor chuckled and nodded. "Aye, meddling, but meddling was the only way to get the two of you together." He smiled and placed his hand upon Erestor's shoulder. "You look happy, mellonen."
Erestor smiled and nodded. "I am, we both are."
Gildor leaned forward and answered, "Good, it is long overdue for the both of you." He took Erestor's elbow and led him toward where Elrond's troops would bed down for the night. "Come, put down your belongings and let us get you something to eat."
~*~*~*~
Thranduil lay upon his back, staring at the stars. His thoughts wandered to Glorfindel and Erestor as he watched Ithil's path across the sky and listened to the sounds of the nearby woods at night. They were well suited to one another, and it was obvious to all around them how much they loved one another. It made Thranduil happy to see one he cared for blessed with such love. However, it also made him reflect on his current situation with Gildor.
He loved the elf, often to the point of distraction. Their prolonged separations had grown harder and harder to bear, and the only way he could deal with it was to shut off his heart and withdraw into himself. He still acted the part of the kind and loyal Prince. He smiled at the appropriate times, he wore the mask of contentment that he believed he had to wear, and he took on more and more responsibility to fill the rapidly growing void within himself. But, each time Gildor left, his lover took a part of him, the Noldo left a slightly larger hole than he did the time before. He did not blame his lover; Gildor had a duty to do, just as he did. But it seemed that would be the sum total of his life, duty, nothing more. He would never bond, never make a life with the one he loved, for that one was always leaving. He believed Gildor when the elf told him he loved him, the Noldo was far too honest and good a creature to ever lie. Nevertheless, those words were no longer enough to keep him warm, as he lay in his bed alone, his arms aching to hold the one he loved.
He heard his lover's footfalls as he returned from duty and he rolled to his side, closing his eyes as he tried to find rest. He felt Gildor slide inside his bedroll and wrap his arms around his waist, nestling his head against the back of his shoulder. A single tear fell from his eye and he squeezed his eyes tight against the others that threatened to fall, and waited for reverie to take him.
~*~*~*~
May 3434, Second Age, Dagorlad
A feeling of dread as heavy as the air around them settled upon Thranduil's mind. He stood on the barren ground, feeling the heat from Orodruin radiate out past the Black Gates. The sounds of elves and men making camp and preparing for war could be heard behind him, but all his energy, all his effort was focused on the dark land beyond the mountains. He climbed a rocky hill, keeping low to the ground so as not to be seen. He knew the servants of Sauron were aware of the presence of the army that had come to defeat them, but they worried little about this foolish band of men and elves that had come to meet their doom.
He lay upon the ground, his eyes wide at the sight before him. The great iron gates of the Morannon loomed in the distance; a massive black wall of evil that guarded an even greater evil that lay beyond it. He felt his blood run cold as he looked upon the lifeless, desolate land. The great tower of Barad-dûr loomed in the distance and Orodruin belched fire and smoke from its peak. He imagined he could hear the tortured screams of elves and men taken long ago coming from the tower, their endless days filled with unbearable pain and torment, with no hope of escape, not even through death. He had heard that the Dark One had ways to keep even an elf alive while he worked his evil on them, ways to confound and trap their spirits in their bodies, preventing them from escaping torment through death.
Such could be any of their fates he thought. Better to fall, to die in battle than to be taken to that black tower, to suffer pain, degradation and torment beyond conception. He imagined he could hear the Dark Lord's voice in his ear, whispering of his own demise, he saw his legion driven into the swamps, slaughtered and dragged away. He tried to close his eyes, to shut out the sinister voice whispering in his mind, whispering of his own long torment and defilement that would come in the pits of Barad-dûr.
A hand closed around his ankle and he quickly rolled to his back, his knife drawn.
"Thranduil, melethen, come down from there."
It was Gildor. It took him several moments to realize that what lay upon his ankle was not an orc's filthy hand; it was the hand of his lover. He let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding and closed his eyes; the voice was gone. He slid down the barren hillside, regaining his feet next to his lover as he reached the bottom.
"What were you doing up there, ernilen?" Gildor asked softly as they walked back toward camp.
"I was just taking a look at the enemies defenses; they are formidable," he answered quietly. He brushed the dirt from his tunic and leggings as he walked beside his lover.
"You should not venture so close alone, melethen. It is dangerous." Gildor chided softly as he brushed the dirt from Thranduil's back.
"We are all in danger, Gildor. We do not know what daybreak will bring; anyone of us could fall or be taken. This is war and we are in the realm of the enemy, no one is safe here."
Gildor caught his lover by the wrist and turned him to face him. "Thranduil," he said softly, "meleth, we cannot afford to be divided now, we must stay together."
Thranduil nodded and waved his hand. "Yes, yes, I know, Gildor. I promise, I will be good and not creep off again." He looked at Gildor's hand upon his wrist then back up at his lover. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have to report upon what I have seen to my father."
Gildor knew that Oropher was well aware of what they faced and he opened his mouth to say so, but then closed it and released Thranduil's wrist. "Of course, melethen," he answered softly. He watched his lover stalk toward Oropher's tent; it made his heart heavy to see Thranduil in such a state.
~*~*~*~
Mellonen = my friend
Melethen = my love
Ernilen = my prince
Meleth = love~*~*~*~
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