Resurrection 49

Resurrection

Part 49

Posted: March 2, 2007
Title: Resurrection
Author: Larien Elengasse

Summary: Lindir talks to Glorfindel, Gildor welcomes his prince home.

*****

Glorfindel watched his horse eat. His stallion was appreciative of the good currying he had received at the hands of his master, and the warm, dry stall, and snack of grain before the hay was fed that night. Horses always settled Glorfindel, and those who knew him well knew to seek him in the stables when he could not be found elsewhere.

Seeing Lindir had been the cause of much worry for him on his journey, and while the greeting was not as warm as he hoped it would be, it held promise. Perhaps, after everything they had been through, they could be friends after all. Erestor and Gildor were another matter. It had taken years for Erestor to let go of his guilt, despite Gildor’s outward assurance that he should. During Gildor’s last stay in Imladris, their interactions had been so restrained, so carefully considered. The sense of uneasiness pained all of them, he was sure. He and Erestor both sincerely hoped for the day when they could all feel at ease around one another. While things would never be as they once were so long ago, they could yet be good.

Glorfindel thought that the prince was a marvel. Each time he met someone new, he saw what was special in them. Each elf born in Middle-earth had something unique about them, some special gift, no matter how small, that made the corporeal world they lived in thrive. Some were blessed by Yavanna, and were skilled at making things grow; some, like Elrond and Galadriel were blessed by Varda, and possessed foresight and special wisdom; some, like Erestor, were blessed by Nienna, and possessed a particular sense of compassion and empathy, which could oft make them prone to introspection and melancholy; some, like him and Gildor, were blessed by Vairë, and carried with them a unique understanding of what had been and what would come; and some, like Lindir, were blessed by Nessa, and had a gift of music and song that brought joy to the hearts of those they touched. Then, there were those like the prince, Legolas, who had been touched by Vána. The prince possessed no special wisdom or strength, and apart from his striking and obvious beauty, a passerby might not sense anything unusual about him. However, he had a unique spirit, one that evil could not touch. Glorfindel had a feeling that the prince’s spirit would be sorely tested before his days in Middle-earth were done.

He and Erestor were both glad that Gildor had found one so devoted to him. It had taken a lot of bravery for Gildor to open up to Erestor and let so much of himself out. That was, in part, the source of Erestor’s guilt – he had betrayed Gildor, despite his best efforts to the contrary. Now, Gildor had a lover who would never stray, never leave, and never withhold anything from him. And as for himself and Erestor, well, things were finally as they should be on that account. Glorfindel had known in some small way that first time he laid eyes on the pale, dark-haired elf, that he and Erestor were meant for one another; he only wished he had been more forthright in being sure that Erestor knew that from the start. But wishes were like air, real enough, but impossible to hold onto. Reaching out and stroking his beast’s muzzle, he banished those thoughts from his mind. There was no point on dwelling on the past.

He heard the large stable door creak on its hinges as it opened, and he looked up to find Lindir entering the barn.

“I . . . I came to tell you something,” Lindir said softly.

Glorfindel turned to face the minstrel. “You can tell me anything,” he answered.

Lindir stood near the doorway, his slender, elegant hands tucked inside his sleeves, his hair shimmering in the lantern light, his large, liquid blue eyes drifting from the floor to Glorfindel’s gaze. The minstrel’s beauty never ceased to give Glorfindel pause.

“I was afraid to see you,” Lindir answered. “I was not sure how I would feel. I have tried hard to forget you, but I see now that is pointless.” He took a deep breath. “There is part of me that still loves you, even though I know there is nothing between us anymore.”

“But there is something between us, Lindir,” Glorfindel answered. “I still love you, sparrow; but that love has changed from desire to something more pure, more enduring.”

Lindir’s lips curved into a small smile and he nodded. “Aye, I know of what you speak. Thranduil is everything I ever dreamed of, he loves me in a way that I always hoped one would. And as for you, you are the one who first taught me to love, the one who helped me grow from a youth to who I am now. I will always love you, Glorfindel, and I do not regret what we have been through. I want you to know that I am happy, and in part, that is due to what you have given me.”

“We are still friends, then?”

Lindir’s smile widened. “Aye, that we are.” With a slight bow of his head, he left Glorfindel alone with his horse.

* * * *

Lindir entered the chamber he shared with his lover to find Thranduil newly returned from the baths. He stood near the door, smiling as he watched his beloved retrieve a comb from the dressing table and take a seat near the fire so that his hair would dry more quickly.

Thranduil looked up at Lindir, smiling at his love, then held out his hand in invitation. Lindir crossed the room and took the comb from the king’s hand, taking a place behind him as Thranduil slipped the robe from his shoulders. Working the comb through his beloved’s honey-gold locks, Lindir smiled.

“I like this expression better than the one you wore earlier,” Thranduil said as he focused on the flickering light of the fire.

“I spoke with Glorfindel, as you said I should.”

“And?”

“Things are clearer between us now. You were right, unresolved feelings are best remedied by talking about them.”

“That is what my father always told me.”

“Your father was wise,” Lindir murmured as he leaned down and pressed a kiss upon the top of Thranduil’s damp head, “as are you.”

Thranduil caught his beloved’s wrist and guided Lindir to stand in front of him. Looking up into the Noldo’s eyes he said, “I will not pretend I was not worried. I know how much you loved him, and it occurred to me that you might still feel the same way. But then I recognized that worry for what it was - fear. When I look into your eyes, I know the truth, all of it, both good and bad. I know how hard it was to lose his heart, and I know how difficult it was to leave him. But I also know that your heart is now free to love me, and that what we share cannot be destroyed.”

Lindir knelt before his king. “Never, my love, it will never be destroyed.” He pressed his face into Thranduil’s hand as the king caressed his face. “You are everything I ever wanted. What I had with Glorfindel was a dream; it was not real. This, this is real.” He parted his lips as his lover leaned down and kissed him. At last, he was whole; he knew who he was, he knew where he belonged, and he would never lose that feeling, ever.

* * * *

Legolas blinked slowly, a smile curving his lips as his body tingled in the aftermath of his spent passion. A long sigh escaped his lips as Gildor stirred, and he murmured, “I love you.”

Gildor turned his head, breathing in the woodsy scent of his prince’s hair as it fell over his shoulder. “I love you, Legolas,” he answered, “so very much.”

Legolas smiled. “This was quite a welcome.”

Gildor chuckled. “Aye, and I expect it to be repaid in full later this eve.”

Legolas laughed. “I bet you do. That is but one of the things I love about you, Gildor. You give as well as you take.”

Gildor laughed aloud. “Such the romantic.”

Legolas rolled to his back as he chuckled. “Well, you know me.” He reached up and pushed Gildor’s hair behind his ears as his lover moved to cover him with his form. “Tell me something.”

“Anything.”

“Do you want to sail?”

Gildor frowned a little. “Aye, but I will not leave without you.”

“Who says I do not want to sail as well?”

Gildor raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

“I would if it was what you wanted. You know that there is nothing I would not do for you.”

“I know. But I would not have you live your life for me, my love.”

“Nor would I have you live yours for me.”

“I have lived my life for myself long enough, I think. No, my place is here, with you, for as long as that may be.”

“Have you ever felt like you were waiting for something to happen?”

“Aye, more times than I care to think of – most often, it was on the battlefield, the night before a great struggle.”

“I feel like something is going to happen, but I do not yet know what. I feel like there is something I have to do, something important, but I do not know what it is.”

Gildor caressed his beloved’s face. “It will become clear, in time.”

Legolas nodded and raised his legs onto Gildor’s hips. “Do we have time for a little more of this before we must prepare for the feast?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Gildor laughed softly. “You are insatiable. You do know that, yes?”

Legolas lowered his eyes coyly and purred. “Can you blame me when I have such rich meat to feed upon?”

Gildor lowered himself so that their lips almost touched. “Is that what I am, meat?”

“Mmm… yes, of the most exquisite and delicious variety. So strong, so ravenous. I wager I have the most skilled and hungry lover in all of Middle-earth.”

“Well, who could blame me when I have such a beauteous banquet?”

Legolas smiled as his beloved’s lips softly brushed his own. “Then we are well matched,” he whispered.

“We are indeed,” Gildor murmured, before pressing a possessive kiss to his prince’s mouth.

*****

previous | Chapter Index | next

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Larien Elengasse