Second Chances

Part 18

Posted: March 2004
Author: Larien Elengasse

*****

Gently rolling waves lapped against the dock. The ship that would bear them home, the last ship, rocked slowly in their wake, dancing upon the water like a swan. Thranduil stood on the terrace of his sleeping quarters, his hands resting on the balcony railing as the sound of the sea filled his ears. He could hear their voices, the voices of all those that had gone before him raising together in a chorus and calling him home.

It was strange to think of a place he had never seen as home. He did not remember his time in Mandos' Halls; he only remembered the love of the one he had found there. He had lived in the great wood all of his life. He had ruled there, loved there, suffered there, and raised a son there. His last days in the forest of his home were filled with memory and sadness, but he could remain no longer.

He felt Celeborn's hand upon his shoulder and he turned and looked into the Elda's eyes.

"You are worried, mellonen," Celeborn said quietly.

"Aye, there has been no word of him. I have asked Círdan and he has not seen nor heard of him here. He assures me that Legolas is safe, and I want to believe it, but fear weighs heavy upon my heart." Thranduil sighed and looked out into the water. "What if he is still alive and trying to reach me? What if he is out there, somewhere, unable to come here? If I leave, I could be leaving him alone here to fade."

Celeborn put his arm around Thranduil. "Legolas is strong, mellon. It is possible that he has left before us. He will find his way home, Thranduil, have faith in that. Círdan would not have said what he did otherwise." He sighed and continued, "This is the last ship, Thranduil, there will be no more after this one. If you do not leave now, you will be trapped here to fade with the trees, alone for an eternity."

Thranduil nodded and closed his eyes as Celeborn left him standing alone on the balcony. He prayed to Mandos to guide his son home and to give him the strength to leave on the morrow, not knowing Legolas' fate.

* * * *

Legolas walked into the house that Glorfindel had built for them; it was on a wide hill overlooking the city of Tirion. Gimli was safely stowed away in the guest quarters built behind the main house. Legolas looked over his shoulder at his lover as Glorfindel lit lanterns to illuminate the room in the waning light of day.

"How did you know?" he asked quietly.

"How did I know what?" Glorfindel asked softly.

"How did you know he would be coming with me to Aman?"

Glorfindel smiled in that way that warmed Legolas' heart and he answered, "I had a feeling. The two of you were very close. And if he did not, then no harm done. We would have extra room for those who would wish to visit us here."

Legolas smiled as his lover crossed the room and took him in his arms. "It is kind of you, melethen, to let him live here with us. There are not many elves who would do such a thing for a dwarf."

Glorfindel chuckled and kissed Legolas' lips gently. "He makes you happy, that is all the reason I need. I think I am starting to grow fond of him, in a strange way."

Legolas laughed and squeezed Glorfindel tight. "I have missed you, seron vell," he whispered into the Noldo's ear.

"Mmm, I have missed you as well, ernilen, "Glorfindel answered softly.

"Show me our bed, melethen," Legolas whispered huskily.

"Indeed…" Glorfindel answered. He released his lover and took his hand, leading him up the stairs to the bed they would share for the rest of their days.

* * * *

Fëanor sat in his father's rocker upon the porch built on the front of his modest house. His home sat high in the hills, overlooking the sea. The home was comfortable, but not elaborately decorated. He had left many of his possessions in Formenos; bringing with him only those that he needed or that had sentimental value. His father's chair was one of those things, his tools from his forge were another. He constructed an outbuilding behind the main house where he spent his days making gifts for his family and for the Valar. He kept only one thing for himself of everything he had made since he was returned to Aman, and he fondled it now in his fingers as his eyes gazed into the East.

So much had changed about him since his awakening in Mandos' Halls. He still grieved for the deeds he had done and he knew he always would. There had been a fair amount of suspicion surrounding his return to Tirion, and he was not entirely welcome there. He could not fault those who harbored anger toward him, so he built his home high in the hills, away from the main city. He supposed there would always be those who feared him, who could only remember the elf he had been before he left Aman to pursue Morgoth. He would not harbor anger or malice toward those who view him thusly, but he would work to regain their trust in small amounts, even if it took him until the end of time.

Other than his sons and Legolas, he had few visitors. But there was one who came to see him the day before that he had not seen in many long years, it was his half-brother, Finfarin. The King of the Noldor had come to Fëanor and paid him a visit at the urging of his daughter. His sons had been returned to him through death, but Fëanor was shamed and could not look into his eyes. The King forgave him and gave him welcome, and this kindness warmed Fëanor's pained heart.

A white horse slowly walked up the winding path toward his home and he smiled when he saw the figure sitting upon it. Her golden hair trailed out around the edges of her hooded cloak, glistening against the white fabric as it fluttered in the breeze. He rose from his seat and walked down the steps to greet her as she dismounted.

"Mae Govannen, pen-dond," he said warmly.

Galadriel smiled and bowed her head. "Mae Govannen, Tôr-en-adar."

"What brings you here to see me this day?" he asked quietly.

She smiled and it warmed his heart. Each time they met, they grew closer to the love they shared before his father died. "A ship arrives on the morrow, my husband is upon it and there is one traveling with him that I think you might wish to see."

Fëanor smiled broadly and nodded. "Aye, that is something I have wished for, for more than an age."

She smiled again, her bright eyes twinkling, and she answered, "I will see you at the docks, then?"

"Of course," he answered. He gently caught her arm as she began to turn and leave. "Where are you staying?"

She motioned down the hill. "I thought I would stay with my daughter and Elrond, they do not live too far from here."

"I would be honored if you would stay here with me, pen-dond." He looked at the ground as he realized he had placed her in an awkward position. "Of course, I can imagine you would like to spend time with your daughter."

Galadriel smiled and lifted his chin so that their gazes met again. "I would be pleased to stay here with you, Tôr-en-adar," she answered.

He smiled and took her small pack from her horse and invited her inside.

* * * *

A brisk knock upon the door roused Legolas from his slumber. He blinked sleepily and reached out for his lover, his fingers just brushing Glorfindel's back as the Elda rose from the bed.

"Stay here and keep the bed warm, melethen. I will see who is at the door," Glorfindel answered softly.

"Alright," Legolas answered with a yawn and he smiled as Glorfindel pulled the covers back up around him.

The Elda pulled on his robe and started down the stairs as a second knock came upon the door. "Yes, yes, I am coming!" he called to the insistent arrival.

He opened the door and saw Erestor standing before him; his friend's face flushed from the cool air outside.

Erestor smiled as he took in the Elda's disheveled state and he cleared his throat. "I hope I have not interrupted anything," he said with a wry grin.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow and invited his friend in. "What brings you here so early this morning, Erestor?" he asked, as he tried to keep from yawning.

"Early? Nay, Anor has risen some time ago, mellonen. You have wasted away half the morning in bed," he answered with a playful chastising tone in his voice.

"Early, late… ‘Tis all beside the point, Erestor. Why are you here?" he asked again, sincerely wishing he had just ignored the knock upon the door.

"Well," Erestor began, "I thought you might be interested in knowing that a ship will be arriving before the noon hour. It is the last ship that will arrive from the East."

"Who is there, melethen?" Legolas asked sleepily as he emerged from their bedchamber loosely wrapped in a long robe.

A smile slowly began to curve Glorfindel's mouth and he called to his lover, "It is Erestor, melethen. He has something to tell us that you may want to hear."

Legolas came down the stairs slowly, rubbing his face as he smiled sleepily at Erestor. "Maer aur, mellonen."

Erestor bowed his head and smiled. "Maer aur, ernilen. I come bringing news of the arrival of a ship from the East, it is due to arrive just past the midday hour."

Legolas' eyes widened. "Adar…" he whispered in hushed tones.

Erestor smiled and nodded. "Aye, that is what my lady has told me. Master Elrond's sons and Lord Celeborn will be aboard as well. There will be a welcoming party assembling at the docks, I do believe you have time to dress and make for the harbor, should you wish to be there to greet them."

"Of course!" Legolas exclaimed. "Hannon chen, meldir!" He placed a quick peck upon Erestor's cheek before running upstairs to dress.

Glorfindel smiled at his old friend and walked him to the door. "Hannon chen, mellonen. I am pleased that it was you who brought the news to us. Legolas has missed his father terribly."

Erestor smiled and bowed his head. "Lady Galadriel has informed Lord Fëanor as well. It is a happy day."

Glorfindel nodded and answered softly. "And a well earned one at that."

"Hurry, Glorfindel!" Legolas shouted from their bedchamber. "We do not wish to be late!"

Glorfindel chuckled and closed the door behind Erestor, turning and making his way back up the stairs.

* * * *

Thranduil stood upon the decks of the white ship as it ambled into the Bay of Eldamar. He gazed up at the island of Tol Eressëa as they passed it, then turned his eyes to the coast of Aman. The dock was lined with flags of the Noldor and Sindar nations and he could see a large crowd assembled at the docks. The last of the noble elf lords were returning home and it was cause for a great celebration. The deckhands anchored the ship and laid down the ramp for the passengers to depart.

The first to set foot on shore was Celeborn, and a great cheer rose up from the ranks of the Sindar. Galadriel stepped forward to greet her husband, and could not hold back any longer as she rushed forward to meet him and was swept up in his arms. He kissed his wife soundly in front of all whom wished to watch, then set her down as his gaze turned to meet his daughter's. He scooped Celebrían up in his arms and swung her around as she laughed. Then he sat her down and turned her to face the ship.

Celebrían turned and saw her sons step off onto the dock and laughed as tears flowed down her face. "Naneth!" they called, and they both rushed forward into their mother's arms as they showered her with kisses. Elrond stepped forward and embraced his sons and held them for a long moment, relieved that they were finally home at last.

Legolas trembled with anticipation as he watched his father step off the ship and onto the dock. "Go on, melethen," Glorfindel whispered into his ear, and he rushed down the dock to meet his father.

Thranduil looked up and saw his son running toward him and nearly collapsed in relief. He uttered a quick thank you to the Valar before catching his son in his arms and holding him tight. "Oh, Greenleaf," he whispered. "I was so worried about you, I have missed you so."

Legolas clung tightly to his father as he buried his face in his hair. "I am sorry, Ada," he whispered. "I tried to get word to you, I was gone too long. Forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive, Iôn," Thranduil replied. "I am so proud of you, you have brought great honor to our kin." He pulled back and held his son's face in his hands. "Let me look at you," he whispered. He gazed deep into Legolas' eyes and smiled sadly. What he saw was his son, only his son; the tale Elladan and Elrohir had told him was true, Fëanor was gone.

Legolas saw the sadness in his father's eyes and a smile crept across his face. "There is another here that you may want to see, Ada," he answered softly. He turned and pointed to a lone figure slowly walking toward them on the dock.

The elf's dark hair floated on the sea breeze like a raven's wing, his robes of ebony and crimson gently danced around him as he approached. It looked like he floated rather than walked down the long dock, and as he drew closer, Thranduil felt his heart stop.

"No," he whispered. "Can it be? Do my eyes deceive me?"

"No, Ada," Legolas whispered. "They do not, it is him."

"Fëandro?" he whispered as tears welled in his eyes.

Fëanor came to a stop before them and picked up Thranduil's hands. "Poicaquen," he answered softly.

"Fëandro," Thranduil breathed, as he gathered his beloved in his arms and held him tight. He was solid, strong, and he smelled exotic and musky. He wadded the velvet robes his lover wore in his fists and he crushed him against his chest. "I never thought I would see you again. I thought you were lost."

Fëanor held his love tight, burying his face in his flaxen hair and breathing in his fresh scent. "I was lost, poicaquen," he answered. "But you have found me."

"I will never leave you again," Thranduil whispered, "never again."

They held each other for long moments before walking down the long dock, hand in hand to the celebration that awaited them.

* * * *

Fëanor closed the door behind him as Thranduil set down his pack and looked around the comfortable house. A broad smile crossed his lips as he turned and looked at his beloved.

"It is private," he said softly.

Fëanor nodded. "Aye, it is. I have no near neighbors here on the hill."

Thranduil began to walk slowly toward his beloved. "So there is no fear of anyone seeing anything that may go on here then?"

Fëanor felt his heart skip as his lover approached him. They had only coupled once, and in all the ages since, his dreams had been filled with that encounter. "No," he answered huskily, "no one will see, we are alone."

Thranduil reached him and ran his fingers into Fëanor's loose raven hair, cradling his face in his hands. "It has been many years since I have allowed one to touch me, many years since I have felt the embrace of the one I hold most dear. My flesh aches for you, melethen, do not make me wait much longer."

"No," Fëanor whispered, "no more waiting."

He pulled Thranduil to him and covered his mouth with his own, melting into his beloved's kiss for the first time in over an age. They stood, wrapped around one another in the middle of the room, dark and light, shadow and flame, mouths tasting and consuming, hands caressing and grasping, until Fëanor broke their kiss and led his beloved into his bedchamber.

Velvet and suede flew about the room, landing in hapless piles upon the floor and hanging from chairs. The two lovers landed soundly upon the bed, and Fëanor rolled over Thranduil, assaulting his lover's neck with his mouth, consuming his strong form with his hands.

"Melanyel, Thranduil," he whispered huskily between kisses.

"Melin le, Fëandro," Thranduil replied breathlessly.

"Wait," Fëanor said quietly, "I have something for you."

"I hope so," Thranduil purred playfully, then groaned as Fëanor pulled away from him.

He watched the Noldo cross the room and rifle thorough his robes before returning to the bed. Fëanor straddled him and smiled.

"I have dreamed of having you thusly for years without end, and as much as I want you now, I cannot continue until I ask you this question."

"What is it, melethen?" Thranduil asked softly.

"Poicaquen?" he began softly, "Will you bond with me? Will you be my mate?" He produced an elegant mithril ring from behind his back and held it out to his lover.

Thranduil smiled and nodded. "I will, melethen, for I would have no other."

Fëanor smiled broadly and slipped the ring upon his beloved's finger.

"What about you?" Thranduil asked.

Fëanor smiled and nodded as he extended his other hand from behind his back, on his finger was a matching ring. "I have been waiting to wear it. I was hoping you would say yes as taking it off now would be awkward."

Thranduil laughed softly and pulled Fëanor down to him. "You are a precious gift, Fëandro," he whispered.

He sighed as he turned his head to allow his lover better access to his sensitive ear and groaned as he felt Fëanor's smooth length come into contact with his own; his own pulsated beneath the Noldo's weight. The silken glide of heated flesh upon heated flesh was driving him mad with want; too many years had passed since he had felt the passionate embrace of another. "Claim me, seron vell, " he whispered. "I want to feel you inside me, please."

"Yé," Fëanor replied and he reached into his bedside table drawer, retrieving a phial of oil he had been saving for just this occasion. He prepared himself and his lover diligently, wanting to ensure that the breaching of his beloved's body was done with utmost care and as little pain as possible.

Thranduil was near begging by the time Fëanor finally entered him, sliding deep inside one who felt as if he had been made for him and him only. He lay between his lover's legs, propped up on his elbows, caressing the Sinda's face with his hands. As the discomfort passed, he saw a smile curve his lover's lips and heard a shuddering sigh leave his body. Slowly he began to move, not wanting to rush, wanting to savor every blissful moment of being wrapped in the one he loved more than life itself. He felt his lover's strong legs wrapped around him, felt his swordsman's hands alternately clutching and caressing his back. He did not want it to end, but too much time had passed, too many long years of being denied the passionate heat and blinding love he felt in that moment. He buried himself deeply inside his Sindar King and groaned as he spilled inside his body.

Thranduil moaned as he felt the warm seed of his beloved fill him, and his legs slowly slipped down Fëanor's sides. He was still reeling, still panting; a sheen of sweat covering his body as Fëanor slid down his torso and took him in his mouth. He cried out as his lover swallowed him, milking his own essence from him with long, slow strokes of his mouth upon his arousal. He smiled blissfully as Fëanor curled against him and he stroked his long raven hair.

"How happy we will be here, melethen," he whispered. "I finally have all that I have desired for so long."

Fëanor nodded sleepily. "Aye, we will be happy. We have both found peace now."

They lay in one another's arms until dawn, quietly talking of all that had come to pass, and all that was to come.

* * * *

The Sindar King and the Noldor Lord made a strange pair, but as word of Fëanor's deeds in the War of the Ring began to circulate around the city, the inhabitants gradually warmed to him and learned to trust him again. He built a monument to the Teleri that fell in the Kinslaying, and spent his days teaching his craft to those that wished to learn it.

Thranduil moved into Fëanor's house with him and was welcomed as part of the family by his sons. Legolas saw both his father and Fëanor frequently, and he and Glorfindel had them to visit often. Thranduil spent his days learning of the elder days of Aman by communing with the trees and the animals that lived there, and he often visited Yavanna as they shared a strong bond with the living things of the world.

Legolas, along with Haldir and the marchwarden of the Galadhrim taught elflings to make bows and arrows, and taught them how to use them, though there was no need. Legolas lived out his days with Glorfindel in blissful peace. Gimli was ever by his side until his passing many years after their arrival in Valinor.

Glorfindel spent his days with Elladan and Elrohir, teaching the same elflings to ride and teaching them ancient arts of combat. Erestor became a popular bard, telling stories to young elves, male and female alike, of the days of the Eldar in Middle Earth and the valor of their ancestors.

Elrond and Celebrían lived out their days together with their family, the only one missing was Arwen, and they spoke of her and Aragorn often. Galadriel had her family back; they were whole and this brought her a great deal of comfort.

What became of Middle Earth after their departure was known only to Manwë and Mandos, but the Eldar lived out their days in peace and seclusion in the refuge that was Valinor.

Pen-dond = tall one
Tôr-en-adar = Brother of my father (Uncle)
Ernilen = my Prince
Melethen = my love
Mellonen = my friend
Maer aur = Good morning
Hannon chen = Thank you
Meldir = friend
Naneth = mother
Poicaquen = pure one (Quenya)
Melanyel = I love you (Quenya)
Yé = Yes (Quenya)

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