Second Chances

Part 6

Posted: March 2004
Author: Larien Elengasse

*****

Legolas entered the large dining hall in the Last Homely House; the room was filled with the sounds of bustling elves and men. Erestor greeted him and the Advisor handed him a goblet of wine, escorting him to a small group of chairs near the hearth. He sat down in the wide, overstuffed chair and talked quietly with the Advisor as they awaited their host. Legolas felt those same riveting eyes upon him again and glanced over his shoulder to see Glorfindel standing by the window.

The Elda was resplendent in robes of deep blue and silver, his hair elaborately braided and held back from his face with jeweled combs. Legolas suddenly felt plain in his simple robes of pale green, his hair in unadorned warrior's braids. He felt his face flush and turned back to Erestor, continuing their conversation.

A lull in the conversation heralded Elrond's arrival and Legolas rose from his chair to greet his host. Elrond bid him sit next to him and he took his chair, looking up to see Mithrandir directly across from him. He tensed as Glorfindel took the chair next to his, and he struggled not to reveal how nervous the Elda made him. He folded his hands in his lap, glancing at the warrior out of the corner of his eye. He could not understand why he was so drawn to him. True, Glorfindel was beautiful, beyond the measure of many he had seen before, but it was more than that. Something pulled at his subconscious, gently prodding his memory but still out of his reach.

His constant companion had faded into the background, and while he could sense him there, he could not hear him. He had noticed that this was happening more frequently as the years drew on, that Fëanor became less of a presence in his everyday life. His ever-present companion was always there when he needed him though, so despite his concern, he left the matter alone. He had meant what he said to Elrond that afternoon, that Fëanor was as much a part of him as his own fëa, he could no more imagine being without the brave Noldo than he could imagine being dead.

His attention was drawn back to the table as Mithrandir chuckled at a bawdy joke that the hobbit told. He smiled as if he had been listening, but his attention and his current thoughts were focused on the Elda sitting next to him.

Dinner was spent in polite conversation surrounding events throughout Middle Earth. Legolas was introduced to the strange creature referred to as a halfling; his name was Bilbo Baggins. The Prince found Bilbo to be a witty conversationalist, regaling those at the table with stories of his adventures. It was not until the hobbit began a tale about an adventure to the Lonely Mountain and a trek through Mirkwood that Legolas took special note of his tale.

Elrond smiled and leaned forward, "Bilbo, Legolas is the son of Thranduil, King of Mirkwood. Perhaps you recall seeing him on your last visit there."

Bilbo's eyes widened and he cleared his throat, "Hmph… well no, I do not recall meeting the Prince, but then I was not there very long. We… uh, I… was just passing through."

Legolas smiled wryly and sat back in his chair as he took a sip of wine. "I am sure I would remember meeting you, Bilbo," Legolas answered. "But I do not. However, I do recall meeting some of your friends. If my memory serves, they spent some time in my father's halls."

Bilbo took a sip of wine and quickly answered, "Well, I was but passing through and it was a long time ago." The hobbit looked over at Elrond, who was grinning over the rim of his goblet, and quickly changed the subject. "Will your minstrels be entertaining us this evening, Lord Elrond?"

Elrond chuckled quietly and answered, "Why yes, they will." He looked around the table, and seeing that his guests had finished their meal, invited them to join him in the Hall of Fire. They pushed back their chairs and began making their way toward the great Hall.

Glorfindel gently caught Legolas' elbow and spoke quietly to him, "May I escort you, my Lord?"

Legolas smiled and nodded. "Yes, Lord Glorfindel, hannon le," he answered softly.

They walked side by side down the long corridor toward the Hall of Fire. Legolas felt a nervous flutter in his chest and a warming heat rise in his cheeks. Never had another had such an effect on him. Just being in Glorfindel's presence made his heart race and his hands tremble slightly. There was still that nagging feeling that somehow he knew this noble elf, but he was at a loss as to why he felt that way.

Glorfindel ushered Legolas to a divan near the hearth and sat beside him. He leaned upon his hands, which were placed just behind him and that brought his and Legolas' bodies into closer contact. He saw the nervous shiver that ran up the Sinda's spine and watched the muscles work in his throat as he swallowed. He stopped short of actually touching the Prince, but leaned over just enough to breathe in his fresh scent. It was just as he remembered, clean, woodsy, like fresh pine and snow from the mountains. He then remembered what Legolas tasted like, sweet, he recalled, yes, like peaches and fresh cream.

The first and only kiss they shared replayed in his mind as it had since he left the Sinda in Mandos' Halls. He remembered the feel of his flaxen hair in his hands, the elegant curve of his ears, the softness of his lips. One brief moment in time that was burned upon his memory, that was what had sustained him through the wars of the Second Age, through the long nights spent missing and aching for the one who had stolen his heart before his return.

To him, it was almost two full ages ago, but to Legolas, if he were able to remember, it would be less than one. Time was not constant in the Halls of the Doomsman of the Valar. Ages passed sometimes in mere moments, others in long years, the only record of time were Vairë's tapestries.

He remembered the long conversations before Legolas took form, speaking with a bodiless entity that had so strange a voice. That voice transformed into the Prince's deep, melodious tone when Legolas was finally able to show himself to him. He remembered seeing Legolas as he left Mandos' Halls, his love was smiling at him with his new face, such a beautiful face. But now something was different in the Prince, something in his eyes, but he couldn't place exactly what it was.

"My Lord?"

That deep voice rang in his ears again, not just in his memory, and he turned to look at his beloved. "Yes, my Lord?" he answered.

"Where were you? You seemed to be elsewhere." Legolas questioned.

Glorfindel smiled and nodded. "Aye, I was reminiscing, dreaming of days past."

Legolas smiled gently and answered, "I see I am not the only one who daydreams."

Glorfindel laughed softly and nodded. "You have discovered my secret, mellonen," he said softly. "I often day dream at these functions. The others, they just believe me to be a quiet elf, one of few words, but now you know the truth."

Legolas laughed quietly, quickly covering his mouth with his hand so as not to disturb those who were listening to the hobbit's newest composition. "I would like to know more, Lord Glorfindel," Legolas responded softly, blushing suddenly at his brashness.

Glorfindel smiled broadly and leaned over to whisper in the Prince's ear, "I would like you to know more as well, ernilen."

Legolas eyes widened for a moment then he turned his head slightly, whispering his reply, "Shall we walk with one another?"

Glorfindel nodded and answered, "Aye, I would like that very much."

The two rose from the divan and crept out a side entrance, making their way down the long corridor out of doors. As they stepped into the cool night air, Legolas smiled and stretched his long arms.

"'Tis good to be outside. I am unaccustomed to being inside such formal dwellings with so many," he said quietly.

Glorfindel took the lead, motioning for Legolas to follow him down the path. "I understand you live in underground dwellings in Mirkwood," he said softly.

Legolas nodded. "Aye, we have been forced underground to keep our subjects safe. My father's magic is powerful, but it cannot stand against the power of the One. We used to live in flets as our kin in the Golden Wood do, but no longer."

Glorfindel answered quietly, "Your father does not bear a ring of power, he is at a disadvantage."

Legolas stiffened a bit and answered, "'Tis true, but he has done well enough. Our caves are safe, no evil has been able to breach them."

Glorfindel sensed the Prince's defensiveness and answered, "Your father is an admirable elf, Legolas. His reign has been one of great hardship, yet he has never wavered in his commitment to his people."

Legolas nodded and smiled. "Thank you for acknowledging that, my Lord. I feel my father is greatly… misunderstood."

Glorfindel nodded but made no reply. The Prince's words were true enough. Thranduil's retreat to the north of the wood placed more distance between his realm and their nearest kin, the Galadhrim, but the Elda knew that had it been his decision, he most likely would have done the same. The lives of the elves under Thranduil's rule were more important than any ground given up by the retreat.

They walked quietly along the paths that wound though the gardens. It was a cool but still night, the stars glittered against a canopy of black in the sky overhead, and the sounds of the river could be heard echoing through the canyon.

They took a seat on a low stone bench under the canopy of a willow tree. They talked quietly about their respective lives; Legolas showed a great deal of curiosity about life in Imladris. Each passing moment in Legolas' presence made the Elda's heart both ache and swell with love. The Prince's kind heart showed clearly in the way he spoke about his people and his father. Legolas felt the gathering darkness as acutely as Glorfindel did, and he talked of how he wished he could purge it from his beloved wood. The urge to lean over and claim Legolas' sweet lips was nearly unbearable, but Glorfindel knew he must tread carefully or risk losing the Sinda for good. He sensed Legolas was hesitant to enter into a physical relationship so soon upon meeting him, and he was glad of it; it gave him hope that he may be able to win his beloved's heart for a second time.

After long hours spent talking and getting to know one another, Glorfindel escorted the Prince back to his chamber.

"Fuin vaer, my liege," Glorfindel said softly. He bowed his head and covered his heart with his hand. "'Tis been a pleasure."

Legolas smiled and returned the gesture, bowing his head and covering his heart with his hand. "Fuin vaer, Lord Glorfindel," he answered softly. "I hope we can get to know one another even better before I return to my home."

Glorfindel looked into Legolas' eyes and smiled. "As do I, ernilen," he answered softly. "Sleep well, Legolas." He turned on his heel and continued down the hall toward his own quarters.

"You as well!" Legolas called after him. He watched the Elda throw a smile back over his shoulder before disappearing around a corner. He entered his elaborate guest suite and flopped down upon the bed, a broad smile curving his lips. "What an interesting and kind elf he is," he whispered to the empty room.

**Aye, and brave too if the tales of his deeds are accurate,** Fëanor answered. **He alone drove the Úlairi away, they fear him.**

"As well they should, he is the great Glorfindel, he knows no fear." Legolas chuckled. "I sound like a smitten elfling with my first crush." He stripped his robes and slid beneath the soft linen sheets, snuggling deep beneath the blankets. He sighed and drifted into reverie, dreaming of Glorfindel.

Hannon le = Thank thee
Mellonen = My friend
Ernilen = My Prince
Fuin vaer = Good night
Úlairi = Nazgûl

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