Halfway To Mandos 6

Halfway To Mandos

Part 6

Posted: June 1, 2007

*****

Glorfindel looked up at Elrond. It took him only a moment to make his decision. Shedding clothing, he crawled back into the bed.

“What are you doing?” the lord demanded.

“I am going after him,” the golden elf answered.

“Glorfindel, you cannot be serious. You know nothing about him nor does he know anything about you. You will be bound to him for all time,” Elrond grabbed the seneschal’s wrist.

“It is a price I am willing to pay,” Glorfindel answered as he wrapped his arms around Haldir. “You can either guide me or get out of the way, Elrond. I am going.”

“You have got to be the most foolish and impulsive elf I have ever met,” Elrond muttered.

His instincts and beliefs as a healer had him making the necessary preparations before he finished speaking. Elrond knew he could neither sway nor stop Glorfindel once the golden elf set his mind on something. It was better to help him than to resist him. He only hoped his seneschal would be able to deal with the repercussions of his actions.

He pressed close, putting as much of his skin in contact with Haldir as possible. Resolutely ignoring the almost instant reaction of his body, he closed his eyes. He was about to battle Mandos for a faer (soul). It would not be an easy task. The very knowledge of the Halls sent shivers of dread through him. He did not wish to go back but neither did he wish to see this brave and valiant elf travel to them.

Haldir was alone, alone in the darkness that surrounded him. Even the voice had left him. It no longer seemed to matter that he was naked and weaponless. Nothing mattered anymore. Perhaps if he listened to the voice, his brothers would find happiness. Since the death of their parents, Haldir’s only goal, his only purpose in life, was to take care of and protect Orophin and Rúmil. He wanted to keep them safe. They did not know the perils of loving another. They did not know the danger to themselves when they gave their hearts. He had to keep them from being hurt.

They didn’t know. Orophin and Rúmil could never know the truth about their parents’ death. It would crush them both, just as it had slowly crushed him. Better that he take the knowledge to Mandos’ halls than to have them find out.

Wandering through the darkness, Haldir warred with himself. It was normally not in him to give up. Yet, he was so tired, so very tired, of bearing the burden of what he knew, what he had seen.

So immersed in his thoughts, the Marchwarden did not see the light approaching. It was pale at first, barely visible. Then it began to grow. The light became a warm gold, bright and shining in the darkness. The heat that emanated from it finally caught his attention and he looked up. Immediately his arm came up to protect his eyes.

“Goheno nin (Forgive me),” the low voice said. “I forgot how brightly lit I am.”

Slowly the light dimmed and Haldir was able to pull his arm away. The sight before him made his breath catch in his throat. Truly, the most beautiful being ever created by Ilúvatar stood before him. Long flowing waves of golden hair surrounded the ellon (m. elf). His eyes, bright sapphires, twinkled as he smiled. He was powerfully built and Haldir could not take his eyes from the vision before him.

“Who are you?” he whispered.

“I am called Glorfindel,” the being answered.

“Glorfindel?” Haldir whispered. “How come you to be here? I do not remember dreaming of you before.”

“That is because you have not,” Glorfindel explained. “We are neither dreaming nor awake but stand somewhere in between. This is part of Mandos’ realm.”

“I do not understand,” Haldir answered.

“What is the last thing you remember, Haldir o Lórien?” Glorfindel asked as he settled on the ground.

“I remember… a fine-looking elleth (f. elf)… Arwen Undomiel. My Lady requested I take her home. I remember being attacked by orcs, and a long hard ride to safety,” Haldir said softly. “I remember a beautiful house with arches and blossoming trees everywhere. I remember the sound of waterfalls. Then all is darkness.”

“Even now your memories are strong. Good,” Glorfindel said. “You have been gravely injured, Haldir. We have been watching over you for many weeks, hoping that you will awake, but you do not.”

“I do not want to wake,” Haldir said sadly. “There is no reason to.”

“Is there not?” Glorfindel asked as he moved to sit next to the other elf. “There is nothing on Arda that holds you? None who will miss you if you pass to the halls?”

“My brothers may mourn perhaps, though it would be a relief to them most likely. Maybe even the great Lady herself may mourn my passing. But, no, there are none who would truly miss me,” Haldir said. “They believe me dead inside anyway. What does it matter if my body finally follows? I am hollow.”

“Oh,” Glorfindel said.

He cupped Haldir’s face in one large hand and turned the Marchwarden to face him. Looking deep into his ice blue eyes, the seneschal slowly leaned forward. Gently, barely touching, he brushed his lips across Haldir’s, teasing them.

“I would miss you, pen vain nín (my fair one),” he whispered. “I would miss you very much.”

“Why?” Haldir panted softly, little bolts of pleasure dancing across his skin at the other elf’s touch.

“Because I would never get the chance to know you, to learn about you. You have intrigued me with your beauty and your valor,” Glorfindel answered taking sipping kisses from the corner of Haldir’s mouth. “I would not get the chance to show you how much there is to live for. Believe me when I tell you the Halls of Mandos are not as peaceful as some think.”

“There is nothing to learn, nothing to know,” Haldir insisted even as he tried to resist the temptation to capture Glorfindel’s teasing mouth.

‘You underestimate yourself, Haldir,” the golden elf smiled.

“No, I do not,” the silver elf answered.

“Very well then,” Glorfindel said pulling away. “Then I ask one boon of you before you leave this world forever.”

“What is it you would have of me?” Haldir asked.

“One full day and night,” the Balrog Slayer asked as the darkness faded and daylight shone upon them. “I would know the joy of holding you and pleasuring you.”

“You wish to have sex with me?” Haldir questioned, confusion lacing his voice.

“Yes,” Glorfindel smiled. “Will you grant me the honor of being your final lover?”

By the look in the younger elf’s eyes, the seneschal could tell he was giving in. Not many could resist him. A part of him felt a tiny bit guilty for deceiving Haldir in this manner. However, the other part, the larger part, would do anything to save the Marchwarden’s life, even if it meant enduring the eternity of a loveless bond. He could not explain it to himself much less anyone else. All he knew was that Haldir had to live and Glorfindel would do anything to make sure that happened.

Finally, the silver haired elf nodded and Glorfindel smiled. He extended his hand and Haldir took it. Steadily he pulled him to his feet. The seneschal was tall even for an elf so it was not surprising that the Marchwarden had to look up a bit to meet his eyes. There was doubt and fear in those ice blue orbs. The golden elf smiled reassuringly.

“This day holds great pleasure. Here we have no worries. There is nothing to occupy our minds save each other,” he said softly.

“How is this possible?” Haldir asked.

“That I cannot explain. Some things I just know. Perhaps it is from my own time in the Halls of Mandos,” Glorfindel said. “Perhaps it is a gift I have always had. Either way it is something I have now. What is your favorite place to be?”

Haldir shook his head, startled at the change in conversation.

“Lothlórien,” he answered. “There is a secluded glade not far from Caras Galadhon. Mallorn trees surround it. Celandine flourishes there. It is odd because the flower grows nowhere else in the wood. I have looked. It is my favorite spot and I am sure no one else has ever been there.”

“Have you ever taken anyone there?” Glorfindel said softly as a shiver raced down his spine.

“No,” the silver haired ellon whispered. “It is a special place. None but I have seen it. It is almost as if it is waiting for someone special.”

“Perhaps it is,” the seneschal smiled. “I have a favorite place too. It is gone now but when I dream, it is always the place where I start.”

“Where is it?”

“My gardens in Gondolin,” Glorfindel answered. “It was the one place of peace that I had. The life of a lord is very demanding. Often it seems as if the people forget we are elves just like them. We need our privacy and a place where we can let peace settle around us. I planned and planted that garden with those ideas in mind. It overflows with golden flowers. But my favorite has always been the celandine.”

“What an odd coincidence,” Haldir commented.

“Odd coincidence indeed,” Glorfindel smiled as he brought the gardens to life around him. “To me it was the most beautiful place in all of Middle Earth. Now, I think there is one addition that could make that boast a reality.”

“I do not understand. What do you mean?” the Marchwarden asked.

“You,” the Balrog Slayer whispered as he pressed his lips to Haldir’s mouth. “You make it all the more beautiful.”

*****

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