Fate's Mirror 34

Fate's Mirror

Part 34

Posted: March 2004
Author: Larien Elengasse

*****

December 3441, Second Age, Mordor

Weeks had passed, and the Last Alliance began to slowly depart Mordor for their respective homes. The host of Elrond remained behind to care for those who could not be moved, and to prepare the body of their King for his return to Lindon where it would lie in state. Thranduil sat in Elrond's tent with Amroth and Isildur, looking at Elrond's drawn face. He crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap as he sighed. The High King of the Noldor had fallen and pressure was on Elrond to take up his mantle. The Lord of Imladris was by rights the heir to the throne as Eärendil's son, but as Elrond looked at the ring that lay before him on the desk Thranduil could see that the Noldo was loath to take it up.

"Your people need a leader, my lord," Amroth said softly. "Who will do this if you will not?"

Thranduil listened to the Sinda Lord plead the Noldor's case. In one war, the leadership of three Elven nations had changed. The world would never be what it once was, and Thranduil understood Elrond's reluctance to take up the crown. He sensed what the Noldo did, that the waning days of the Eldar had begun, that soon the world would belong to the likes of Isildur and his kin.

Thranduil shot a glance at the Númenorian. He was angry, he made an impassioned plea to the Lord of Imladris to bring the man down before he could take up the ring, and he watched with dismay as Isildur fitted it to his neck upon a chain. Thranduil had even gone so far as to offer to dispatch the new King in his sleep, but Elrond would hear nothing of it. The Sinda knew that as long as the Ring survived, Sauron had a chance, and that all they had fought for and lost would be for nothing.

"No more talk of this now, Amroth," Elrond answered softly. "I will take possession of Vilya, but I will not take the title of King. Gil-galad will be the last to bear that title."

Amroth sighed and bowed his head, seeing that his words would fall upon deaf ears. Elrond looked up at Thranduil and addressed him.

"What of you, mellonen? What will you do now?"

Thranduil answered quietly, "I will return home with what warriors I have left, and I will try to rule my father's realm as best I can." Elrond nodded as the Sinda continued, "We will accompany Amroth as far as Emyn Muil then ride due north. We will set out at first light."

Elrond sighed and rose from his chair. "May you have a peaceful journey and return home." His guests took his words as a signal that he wished to be alone and they bowed to him before departing. Elrond caught Thranduil by the elbow as he began to depart. "A word, mellonen?"

Thranduil nodded and stood beside Elrond as Isildur nodded to the both of them and departed the tent. He turned to the elf that he had grown to respect beyond measure and asked quietly, "What is it, meldir?"

"What is to become of you and Gildor, now that your father is gone and you are King?" Elrond asked softly.

Thranduil looked at the ground and answered in a voice that was nearly a whisper, "I know not, Elrond. I care deeply for Gildor, but our lives are forever destined to walk different paths. His place is in Lindon, and I swore an oath to my father."

Elrond guided him to a low bench and sat beside him. "What oath?" he asked quietly.

Thranduil looked into the Noldo's eyes. "The night before he died, I swore to him should he fall in battle that I would take a wife and provide an heir for the realm. I cannot forsake that oath, Elrond."

Elrond said nothing for a moment then answered, "And have you told Gildor of this oath?"

Thranduil shook his head. "Nay, I have not. But the time has come now that I must. He will hate me, Elrond, and perhaps that is best. Better for him to hate me than to suffer love for me."

"I do not believe he could ever hate you, Thranduil. The two of you have not bonded, but his heart belongs to you nonetheless. This will hurt him deeply; I will not lie to you about that. What will become of him, I do not know, but he is strong."

"My heart belongs to him as well, Elrond. Any wife I take will have my fidelity, they will have my protection and care, but my heart will always be with him."

Elrond rose from his seat and placed a hand upon Thranduil's shoulder. "I am saddened by all that has come to pass, mellon. I am saddened by your loss and by the loss Gildor is about to experience. I will ask you to think on this, Thranduil. Your father could not have known the depth of your love for Gildor when he asked you to do this. He could not have wished that you spend the rest of your life without the one you love."

"Nevertheless, I have sworn to him. I cannot betray that oath," he answered quietly. "If it is any consolation to him, I will feel his loss everyday for the rest of my life." He turned and left Elrond alone in his tent.

* * * *

Thranduil walked through the camp, watching the elves and men of the west prepare for their departure in the morning. He found himself before Glorfindel's tent and he stopped. He took a deep breath and pushed the flap aside and entered.

The warrior sat on the side of the makeshift bed he had shared with Erestor, staring blankly at the wall of the tent as he twisted his ring upon his finger. Never had Thranduil seen him look so tired, so drained, so beaten. He lowered himself to the ground and placed his arm around his first love. "How do you fare, mellonen?"

Glorfindel turned his red eyes and pale face to Thranduil. "Not well, Thranduil, not well at all."

Thranduil pulled the warrior to him and cradled his head upon his shoulder. "I am sorry, mellonen. What can I do for you? Is there anyway I can lessen this burden for you?"

Glorfindel shook his head and answered quietly, "Nay, it is mine to bear. I love him, Thranduil, without him I am lost."

Thranduil fought back tears as he answered quietly, "I know, mellon, I know."

* * * *

Gildor sat on the ground, staring up through a small hole in the roof of the tent. He could just see the Light of Eärendil. He smiled wearily and whispered, "You have watched over us yet again, my Lord. May you lessen the burden those of us who remain have to carry now in the wake of so much destruction and loss."

A soft murmur and cough drew his attention from the evening star to his friend. A smile crossed his lips and he leaned down, his dark hair brushing the Noldo's cheek as he whispered, "It is about time. You are without a doubt the most stubborn elf in all of Arda."

"Glorfindel…"

Gildor smiled again, placing a soft kiss upon his friend's head. "I will fetch him, mellonen. Rest now."

"I have rested enough," Erestor croaked out. "I feel as if I have slept an age."

Gildor chuckled. "He will be most displeased that you chose to wake when he was not present."

Erestor smiled wryly, his eyes narrow slits as he fought to focus. "I assume I will get a dressing down for this," he answered hoarsely. "But I do not care, as long as I can look into his eyes again." He reached out slowly with a trembling hand. "My dreams have been dark, Gildor. I have fought to keep the vision of him in my mind. It is what drew me home."

Gildor pressed his forehead against his friend's. "And it always will, that is what love does, Erestor."

Gildor slowly rose and departed the tent at a quick run to fetch Glorfindel.

* * * *

Thranduil was holding his friend as he slept in his arms; it was a sleep born of pure exhaustion. He stroked his golden hair and dropped soft kisses to the top of his head. He remembered how their positions were reversed long ago, how the warrior held him in his grief upon losing his mother. He could not imagine what Glorfindel was going through, each day that Erestor stayed in his dark slumber hope faded that he would ever return. Elrond had been with him everyday, calling to him, but to no avail.

The tent flap was shoved open and Gildor entered. Glorfindel stirred from his sleep and looked up at the Noldo, fearing the worst.

"He has returned, mellonen. He is awake." A broad smile graced Gildor's lips as he delivered the happy news.

Glorfindel lay stunned for a moment, unable to move or speak. Thranduil nudged him and said softly, "Did you not hear him, mellon? Erestor is awake."

Glorfindel leapt from the bed and departed the tent at a run, without speaking a word.

Gildor extended his hand and pulled his lover from the ground and into his arms. He gazed into Thranduil's eyes as he caressed his face. "I thank the Valar everyday that I did not lose you, melethen." A tear fell from Thranduil's eye and he pulled Gildor into a tight embrace. "What is it, meleth?" Gildor asked softly.

Thranduil pulled back from the embrace and answered quietly, "Come, melethen, let us return to my tent."

Gildor frowned as he allowed Thranduil to lead him by the hand back to his tent.

* * * *

Elrond sighed as he slowly sank into the bed. He had never been so weary in all of his life. Just as he began to drift into reverie his tent flap raised and one of his healer's entered. For a brief moment, his heart stopped as he feared the worst had happened to Erestor.

"He is awake, my lord. He has returned."

Elrond blinked numbly for a moment before rising quickly, pulling on his robe as he left the tent with the healer.

* * * *

Glorfindel caught one of the support poles as he slid to a stop at the door to the healer's tent. He burst through the doorway looking around frantically for his beloved. "Where is he?" he shouted.

His tired eyes caught sight of his lover lying upon his pallet, his hand raised slightly in a weak hello. He fell to his knees at Erestor's bedside, alternating between crying, laughing, and telling him how much he loved him. Erestor placed one arm around his beloved, cradling his head upon his chest and stroking his golden mane.

"Ah, rawen," he whispered hoarsely. "I feared I would never feel you in my arms again. But your love was strong enough to call me home."

"Gods, Erestor," Glorfindel choked. "I was so afraid, so lost without you. Never leave me again, ervainen vorn. Promise me you will never leave me again."

Erestor smiled weakly as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of his beloved lion's head. "Never, melethen, I will never leave you again."

*****

Mellonen = my friend
Meldir = friend
Mellon = friend
Melethen = my love
Meleth = love
Rawen = my lion
Ervainen vorn = dark beautiful one

*****

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