Title: By the Grace of the Valar
Author: Morgana
Author's Email:
Web page: http://www.paranoid.nl/avalon
Pairing for this part; Elrond/Celebrían, Erestor/Glorfindel and Lómion/Ereinion.
Overall rating: NC-17
Summary: The twins are born, Glorfindel remembers he loves Erestor and Ereinion
finds himself attracted to a very troubled soul.
Disclaimer: Not mine, Tolkien’s.
Warning: AU of course!
Author’s Note: Completely AU. Plus, I am taking huge liberties with Erestor, Námo and his wife, Vairë. This story has the timeline from Hell, so you are warned! Additional note; Ereinion and Maeglin/Lómion was never an intended pairing, but I developed a soft spot for them!
Beta reading, translations and research by Patricia Pleasant, thanks! I couldn’t have written this story without your help!
All remaining mistakes are mine.
By the Grace of the Valar
Part 7
“You have been in Imladris for four weeks now and you have yet to approach Glorfindel and to inform him of your feelings. Why is that?”
Startled, Erestor looked up from the letter he was writing to Thranduil at Elrond’s request. He had thought he was alone in the study, but apparently his father had decided to join him. Námo stood in front of the window and his face carried a puzzled expression. “I should have known to expect you.” Erestor placed the quill onto the desk and waited for his father to address him again.
“Seriously, Erestor. I sent you back so you would have a second chance at love and nothing has happened! That frustrates me and I warn you not to force my hand again!” Námo walked toward Erestor and placed his hands, palms down, on the oak desk. “Why are you keeping your distance?”
Erestor cocked his head. “Why do you think? I am afraid I will fail again. I failed him the first time.” Not approaching Glorfindel was killing him, but he thought it was for the best. “He rejected and shunned me after learning the truth about me and that hurt. I cannot live through that again.”
“What makes you so certain he will reject you again?” Námo searched his son’s eyes, which were troubled.
“I…” Erestor closed his eyes so he didn’t have to return his father’s gaze. “I already lied to him. I did not supply my real name and lied instead. I made the same mistake I made in Gondolin and Glorfindel will eventually find out. I know he will.”
“Have you seen that particular future then?”
“I do not need to have a vision to know it will happen.” Feeling Námo’s hand settle atop of his made Erestor open his eyes.
“Do you still see suspicion in his eyes when he looks at you?”
Erestor shook his head. “Nay, I do not think that he still believes me a threat to Imladris.”
“Have you talked to Glorfindel yet? Anything aside from
formal conversation?”
“Nay… though…” Erestor bit his bottom lip, unwilling to make his next admission.
“Though?”
“Though he addressed me a few times during dinner.” He hadn’t known how to react at the time and had grown quiet, causing their beginning conversation to die.
Námo squeezed his son’s hand. “Don’t you understand, Erestor? You have received a second chance. How this turns out depends on your actions. Glorfindel does not remember your ‘deception’ in Gondolin. When he looks upon you he sees a desirable Elf. Someone he is attracted to.”
“You are wrong,” said Erestor, determinedly. “He is not attracted to me.”
“He is! And you are attracted to him in turn.” Námo leaned in closer until his face was only inches away from his son’s. “What do you have to lose, Erestor? What is the worst thing that can happen to you? Haven’t you already lived through losing him? You were strong enough to deal with the loss. Now you have a chance to love again and you are throwing it away because you are scared of what can happen? What happened to the Erestor who swept Glorfindel off of his feet and bonded with him? You wanted him! You were prepared to sacrifice anything in order to have him! Is my son truly gone? Who replaced him? I do not believe that my son is no longer there!”
A lump of emotions had formed in Erestor’s throat and he swallowed convulsively in an attempt to rid himself of it. “That Erestor began to fade when he looked upon Glorfindel’s corpse and he ceased to exist the moment Glorfindel rejected and shunned him. How could you do this to me? Damn me to this existence?”
“Son, your father means well.” Vairë materialized beside Námo and raised her hand to caress Erestor’s face. “Believe me when I say that you will regret throwing away this chance at love. You need to take this risk. Isn’t Glorfindel worth taking all the risks in the world? Wouldn’t you do anything to have his love again?”
“Risk it all? Risk all I am?” Erestor studied his mother’s eyes. He knew his father tended to plot and even manipulate him when Námo thought it was in his best interests, but his mother would never maneuver him into a situation he could not handle. “Do you really think I should risk it all?”
Vairë smiled at her son. “I do, and I also think you should not waste any time. Finish your letter and then seek him out in the barracks. He is about to finish supervising training the guards and he will be relaxed; it is the perfect moment to approach him.”
“Ask him to spar with you,” suggested Námo, who released his son’s hand and gathered his wife’s in his instead. “Do not fear that much, my son. Have some faith in yourself – and in me.”
Erestor produced a weak smile. “I love you, Adar… Naneth.”
“We know you do,” came their voices; they sounded like one whilst their forms faded. “We love you.”
Once more alone in Elrond’s study, Erestor picked up the quill again, finished the letter and handed it to a messenger, who would take it to King Thranduil. Erestor then left Elrond’s study, detoured to his rooms, where he changed into a shirt and comfortable leggings, and then headed for the training grounds. He didn’t know if his parents were right, but he had realized that he would gain nothing by ignoring Glorfindel. On the contrary, he had everything to win and nothing to lose. His parents were right – he had to put his trust in them and risk it all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I apologize for being distracted,” said Glorfindel, giving his sparring partner a contrite look.
The guard smiled, reassuringly, nodded, and then left.
Glorfindel sat down on the grass – cross-legged and greatly troubled. Ever since he had found Mornén beneath that weeping willow, the dark-haired Elf filled his every thought. His fingers touched the locket, which he still wore and it snapped open, revealing the raven strand inside. He took it out and fingered it. /As raven as Mornén’s…/ Glorfindel didn’t know where that thought had come from, but the similarity intrigued him.
During these last four weeks he had watched Mornén closely. He had observed the raven-haired Elf whenever Mornén thought he was alone. Glorfindel had learned that Mornén was a solitary Elf, who possessed a great sense of duty. However, his dark demeanor would change whenever someone involved him in conversation. Celebrían especially had a positive effect on Mornén, who even smiled in her presence. The silent sorrow that clung to the raven-haired Elf intrigued him. He wanted the other Elf to be happy, to smile and look at him with love in his dark eyes.
Sighing heavily, he focused on the strand of hair. To this very day he couldn’t remember the Elf he was supposedly bound to. This Erestor had never tried to approach him and he wondered if a bond still existed between them. Was he free to take a new lover? How could he be bound to someone he didn’t remember?
“Lord Glorfindel? I wanted to talk to you, but I can come back later, if I am disturbing you.” Erestor felt worried, seeing Glorfindel tenderly caress the strand of hair he had given him so long ago. His father had assured him that Glorfindel had no memories of him, but if that was the case, why was the warrior staring at that strand of hair in such an entranced way?
“Nay, stay!” Glorfindel couldn’t believe that the Elf of his desire had sought him out and now stood in front of him. “Please, sit down. I was just… thinking.” Had Lindir been here, the minstrel would have teased him with that comment, but his friend was still at the Havens, doing his own healing.
Erestor sat down on the grass, but kept some distance between them. His mouth had gone dry, seeing the lost expression in the azure eyes. “I do not want to pry, but you seem worried.”
Glorfindel found himself confiding in the raven-haired Elf. “My story is a strange one,” he started, giving his companion a rueful smile. “It is said that I am bound to an Elf called Erestor, but I do not remember him. Lindir however, said that this is a lock of his hair… So, that would prove his existence.”
Erestor fought back his tears. “You do not remember him?”
“I was reborn with my memories intact. I do not know why the Valar decided such, but my memories of him have been erased.”
“Do you remember your… death?” Erestor bit his bottom lip. What had made him ask that question?
Glorfindel flinched. “I do, but it does not trouble me the way it should. I suffer no nightmares, nor does my death haunt me. I think the Valar dimmed the echo of the pain I suffered before allowing me to be reborn.”
Erestor wished he could reach out and bury Glorfindel in a hug, but such a move would only cause the warrior to grow suspicious of his motives – at least, he believed so.
“I am happy here,” said Glorfindel, wanting to do away with
the bitterness that had unexpectedly surfaced in his mind. “I have found a new
home and a family to protect.” But still, something was missing and Lindir’s
words came back to haunt him; “Not
something – someone. You miss Erestor.”
“If you are happy here, then why do you look so troubled?”
“I miss having a love in my life and I am wondering… Am I still bound to someone I do not remember? Someone who never sought me out, although the news of my rebirth traveled even to the most remote places on Arda?”
Erestor’s heart felt heavy – felt burdened by Glorfindel’s question. “What do you want, my Lord? Do you wish to be no longer bound to this Erestor? Do you wish to be set free?”
Glorfindel drew in a deep breath and then looked into the dark eyes. “If I remembered him and he were here I would welcome him, I think… But as I do not remember him, and he is not here, I wonder…”
“Maybe he has long ago set you free?” Erestor’s voice trembled, speaking those words.
“Only the Valar can release me from this bond if we are truly bound.” Glorfindel placed the lock of hair back into the locket and closed it. “I do not remember him, Mornén, but my heart yearns for love – for a mate.” And his heart told him that Mornén was a potential companion – life mate. “I would like to love again. My life seems so empty without someone to love.”
Erestor began to understand. “If this Erestor were here and proclaimed his love for you, you would accept him?”
“I think so… Though, I do not know if I would still love him. He is a stranger to me… whilst you… you are not.” Oh, he hadn’t intended to say that!
Erestor’s eyes widened. Had Glorfindel really implied what he thought the warrior had implied?
“I should not have said that. I presume too much…” Glorfindel began to rise from the grass, but a hand came to rest upon his wrist and stopped him from getting to his feet.
Erestor couldn’t believe the conclusion he had reached. “My Lord, are you trying to tell me that you find me attractive?”
Glorfindel blushed. “I know I do not have the right to say that. You only arrived in Imladris four weeks ago and you probably think that I hardly know you… but I have been watching you and I find I like you.”
Erestor smiled. “I have been watching you too, but I thought that a fabled Elf-Lord like you couldn’t possibly find me desirable.” He couldn’t believe this was really happening! /Thank you,/ he thought, thanking his parents for telling him to seek out Glorfindel. /Thank you for making me do this./ In a corner of his mind, he heard their pleased chuckling.
Glorfindel’s hope blossomed. “Mornén, I…” Lost for words, he simply looked at the raven-haired beauty. “I am bound to this Erestor and not at liberty to court you.”
Erestor made his decision right there and then. “My Lord, trust me when I say that your bond to Erestor is no obstacle where our love is concerned.”
“How can you say that?” Mornén’s warm smile made him stop questioning the other Elf’s words, and when the raven-haired leaned in closer to wrap his arms around him, he allowed it. He rested his head against a strong shoulder and sighed. “I do not want to be alone any more. I have been alone for so long.”
“The same thing is true for me,” whispered Erestor. “I had a lover a long time ago – a soul mate – but I lost him. And you, my Lord, remind me of him. I would love you like I loved him.”
Something deep inside Glorfindel’s soul stirred, nervously, at hearing those words. “What happened to your lover, then?”
“He died, my Lord. He died and I lost my mind, grieving for him. I never stopped loving him though.”
Glorfindel pulled away, so he could look into the brown eyes. Eyes, which still looked very familiar to him. “Do I know you? Have I known you in the past? You seem so familiar… Your eyes…”
Erestor knew he had reached a crossroad in his existence and prayed he was making the right decisions. “Aye, you know me, my Lord.”
Shivers shook Glorfindel’s frame as memories tried to surface, but he pushed them away. “How did your lover die?” he asked in a shaky voice.
“A Balrog took him down. Its claws grew entangled with his golden hair and they fell into the abyss together.” Erestor’s heart missed several beats, seeing realization settle in Glorfindel’s shocked eyes. “He died defending the ones dear to him – Tuor, Idril and Eärendil.”
Glorfindel broke free and stared at the raven-haired Elf in shock.
Realizing he needed to get everything out in the open now, Erestor said, “The King of the Eagles brought your corpse back to me and I mourned your passing.”
Glorfindel cocked his head, unable to believe what he heard. “I do not understand…”
Erestor took the greatest risk of all then. “I used to have a different name when we lived in Gondolin. But like you, I feel like I died that day when the Balrog took your life. I haven’t been the same since then.”
Memories broke through the curtain of oblivion and Glorfindel panted hard beneath their onslaught. “You and I… in Gondolin…” He witnessed their first meeting all over again. He remembered finding Erestor beneath that weeping willow… remembered the way Erestor had bound their souls… remembered the love they had shared and then Gondolin’s Fall. “We fled through the tunnel Tuor had constructed, but a Balrog found us.”
Erestor, feeling uncertain how to act, kept his distance now that Glorfindel had broken away from him. “He did.”
“I told you to run, to join the others, but…”
“I stayed and I witnessed your death. I was in shock when it happened.”
Glorfindel’s breath came fast and was irregular now that he was remembering parts of his life he had never known existed. “Your name… It is not Mornén…”
“My name is Erestor and I gifted that locket to you on our binding anniversary. It is a lock of my hair that you carry with you.” Erestor kept still as Glorfindel reached out and moved his fingers through his hair. The warrior then opened the locket, took out the strand of hair and compared it to his raven mane.
Glorfindel was speechless, finally remembering Erestor and the love they had shared. “It is the same hair,” he said in trembling voice. “But, what happened after my death? Lindir said you rescued him from those Orcs and took him to the Isle of Balar.” He needed a moment to compose himself and to truly understand what was happening. He hoped that Erestor understood and would give him the time he needed to accept this development.
Erestor felt conflicted. So far, Glorfindel didn’t seem to have remembered the fact that he belonged to the Valar. And as long as Glorfindel didn’t remember he was one of the Valar, he would let him believe he was an Elf. Knowing his father’s scheming, it was thinkable that Námo would keep these memories from Glorfindel still. “I returned to Gondolin and reached Lindir just in time to prevent worse. We fled the city and we made our way to the Isle of Balar.”
“Lindir said he saw a flash of light and then he was on the Isle of Balar…”
“Lindir was unconscious for the most part of our journey. His mind wasn’t ready yet to face what he had witnessed.” Erestor sucked in his breath, wondering if Glorfindel would accept that explanation.
“That sounds plausible,” said Glorfindel, deeply probing Erestor’s eyes. How could he have forgotten about his love? The one Elf who had ever made him feel complete? And why hadn’t he recognized Erestor when he had found him beneath a weeping willow – for a second time!
“I left Lindir with Círdan, knowing he would recover there. I took on the name Mornén and I have walked Arda ever since in hope you would be rehoused someday. Mithrandir found me and asked me to join him in his fight against evil. I accepted and became his spy. Then, the day came that I had to deliver this message to him… And then, I found you, and you did not recognize me. I did not reveal myself to you because I thought you no longer wanted to be with me.” He had to add that last part in order to make his story more believable. He hadn’t lied that much to Glorfindel. The only part he had left out was that he didn’t belong to the Firstborn.
“I apologize for not recognizing you… I do not understand why I did not know you.” His azure eyes pleaded for understanding.
Erestor raised a hand and caressed the soft, facial skin. “Maybe Námo manipulated your memories, Glorfindel.”
“Maybe,” repeated Glorfindel, unconvinced. “But does it matter? I have got you back!” Finally, the truth settled in and he flung his arms around Erestor’s form, pulling him close. “I love you so much! I missed you! Lindir was right all along! I missed *you*!” He buried his face in Erestor’s raven hair and recognized the familiar scent of lilies that clung to his beloved. “I thank the Valar for allowing me to remember you!”
/And I thank the Valar for not allowing you to remember everything!/ Erestor returned the hug, holding Glorfindel close.
/Son, I carefully blocked the memories concerning your admission in the Halls and his reaction to hearing the truth. Stay away from those… Do not try to rekindle those memories. Once he remembers I do not know what will happen./
/Thank you, Adar,/ replied Erestor. /I will not throw away this second chance you are offering me./
“Oh, Erestor… I will never let you go again!” Glorfindel sought and found Erestor’s lips and finally kissed his beloved again, after so many millennia of having been apart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She rested in her husband’s arms, feeling happy and sated. “I will never regret marrying you,” whispered Celebrían into her husband’s ear. Elrond relaxed in her embrace, spent, sated as well, and grinning blissfully. Last night, they had decided the time had come for them to truly bind their souls and bodies, and they had made love for the very first time.
“Melethril 1, you have changed my life!” Elrond had never felt happier before. He raised his head and rested his chin on her chest, admiring her silver beauty. “Do you think we created life last night?”
“If not, we will try again.” Her eyes twinkled, mischievously. “And I would not mind trying again. As a matter of fact, we should try again right now to make certain that I have conceived.”
Her words traveled straight to his groin and he grew hard again. “I am always at your service.”
“And obviously very eager to please,” whispered Celebrían, giggling softly. “Come to me then. Let our bodies become one again.”
“As you wish, pen-vaelui 2,” whispered Elrond, licking her skin. Oh, he would make certain she would conceive! He would make love to her every day of the rest of their lives.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Lindir? Won’t you come inside? The sky is growing dark and night will be upon us shortly.” Círdan came to a halt beside Lindir and wrapped an arm loosely around the minstrel’s form. “Maybe you will even sing for me tonight?” Lindir had arrived four weeks ago and the minstrel had been oddly quiet. He had expected Lindir to talk about Ereinion and the love he had lost, but Lindir remained quiet instead.
Lindir smiled and rested his head briefly on Círdan’s shoulder. “I want to witness the moon rise, can we?”
“Of course, but let us sit down then.” Círdan pulled Lindir down, until they sat on the white sand. “I always love looking out over the Havens when Ithil is upon them.”
“I love looking at the stars,” admitted Lindir and his voice hitched, revealing he was struggling with memories.
“You lost your guiding star that day,” said Círdan, carefully steering their conversation into the desired direction. “You must miss him still because I do too.”
“Oh, I do miss him… I miss him every day of my life.” Lindir moved closer to Círdan and rested his head on the Shipwright’s shoulder. Círdan in turn wrapped his arms around him and Lindir sighed, ruefully. “I lost him… He dwells in the Halls of Waiting now and is out of my reach.”
“He wanted you to live and to carry on his dream, which you did. Imladris has become Ereinion’s safe haven and you contributed to it. That must make Ereinion proud.”
“What do you think death is like? I always wondered about
that. What is it like… to dwell in the Halls of Waiting? Do the souls still have
feelings? Does Ereinion know what has happened since his death?” He cocked his
head until he could look into Círdan’s eyes. “What do you think?”
Círdan tightened his hold on Lindir and joined the minstrel in staring at the stars. “I do not really know what it is like, Lindir… But I do hope Ereinion has found peace in the Halls.”
Lindir rubbed his cheek against Círdan’s shoulder. “You are like a father to me. I do not know what I would have done without you. You pulled me through so many times.”
“And you are like another son to me, Lindir,” replied Círdan, who placed a chaste kiss on the white hair. “I just wish Sauron had not taken Ereinion away from us.”
“So do I.” Lindir closed his eyes. He finally realized he had the strength to do as Ereinion had asked him to. He possessed the strength to carry on and to keep Ereinion’s dream alive. His heart hadn’t become a stone; it still beat with life and passion. The minstrel drew in a deep breath and then raised his voice in soft song. He sang of his love for Ereinion, his gratefulness toward Círdan and his hope that his beloved had finally found the peace in death the High-King had never found in life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ereinion’s eyes leaked tears, hearing Lindir’s goodbye. The minstrel might not realize it, but he *was* saying goodbye to him in this song. Lindir was finally letting him go. /Lindir, you are doing the right thing. It is time for you to move on. I am dead and you are not. We cannot be together… I am glad you finally found the courage to take this step./ Lindir’s voice gradually faded from his mind and Ereinion grew more and more aware of the soul resting in his arms… Lómion.
Lómion had fallen asleep against him – sharing his life’s history had left him exhausted and he had succumbed to sleep. /What do I do now?/
Námo approached the bed and sat down on its side. “You already know the answer to that question.”
Ereinion wasn’t surprised to find the Vala close. He lifted curious eyes and searched Námo’s face. “Can you tell me what I am dealing with?”
“You already know,” said Námo in a patient voice. “The child, Lómion, was unable to deal with the abuse and created a stronger persona to suffer through the rapes. Your assumptions were correct, Ereinion.”
“But, if this is not Maeglin, then…”
“Maeglin is, and always will be a part of him, but he is dormant now. Do not be surprised if he surfaces occasionally, but even if he does, he will be weak, as he has lost much of his hatred.” Námo caressed the burned skin and gave Lómion a sad smile. “You care about him, High-King of the Noldor, and that is good.”
Ereinion readily admitted the truth. “I do. How can one not care about him once you know his life’s history?”
“You should be prepared for more changes.” Námo pushed back the dark hood and took in the damage done by the fire.
“What changes?” Ereinion grew alert.
“The other souls can see him now as well.”
“Why? Why would you do that to him? Hasn’t he suffered enough?” Ereinion protectively held Lómion close. “You know how they will react when they see him! They won’t see Lómion, but Maeglin! The last thing he needs is to be subjected to their hatred!”
“It might be hatred at first,” admitted Námo. “But do you really have such little fate in them? Don’t you think that someone like Ecthelion will realize the truth once he gets to know Lómion?”
“You are scheming, my Lord, and you are using Lómion, but why, I do not know!” He wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt Lómion!
“I carry out Eru’s will,” said Námo in a firm voice. “You only see pieces of the puzzle, whilst I already know the outcome of this undertaking.”
“Why are you doing this?” Lómion stirred against him, and Ereinion worried that his charge might wake up whilst Námo was still close.
“I am doing this because Eru decided to give Maeglin a chance to redeem himself and thanks to you, he is on the way to a better existence. Much depends on you, do you understand that, Ereinion?”
“I wish I knew what you are really after.”
“Only Eru and I know the answer to that question and you are not privy to it.” The Doomsman of the Valar rose from the bed and gave Ereinion a last, thoughtful look. “Maeglin’s soul was sentenced to eternal suffering, but Lómion’s soul never was.”
Ereinion blinked, just knowing that Námo was implying more than he was actually saying, but what was it? “What do I do? Please, counsel me in this matter.”
Námo considered his next words carefully. “I cannot tell you what lies in Eru’s will, but I can tell you that Lómion’s salvation lies in your hands. When you helped Lindir recover, you dedicated yourself to him unconditionally. And in the end, he opened his heart to you and accepted the love you had for him. He became whole – the way he was supposed to be.”
Ereinion frowned. “What are you trying to say? Lindir became my lover, but Lómion…” His eyes widened dramatically. “What?”
“There is only one emotion that is strong enough to deal with the fear, pain and hatred that chains Lómion’s heart to Maeglin’s. Only love can undo those chains.” Námo realized he had already said too much and grew quiet. Eru would grant Lómion’s soul eternal peace, should the tormented soul find true love here. He had waited many millennia for the right Elf to come along and Námo believed Ereinion was that Elf. /I only hope he won’t desert you, Lómion. You deserve this chance to redeem yourself. You never did anything wrong./
Lómion however, remained peacefully asleep, feeling at home in Ereinion’s protective arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What do we do now?” Glorfindel didn’t want to release Erestor from his hold now that he had found his beloved again.
“I think we should inform Elrond of this development.” Erestor lovingly caressed Glorfindel’s golden hair. “I missed touching you so much. I still have trouble believing I am touching you again.”
“I feel the same way,” admitted Glorfindel, who slowly pushed himself to his feet, pulling Erestor along with him. Standing face to face, he brushed back raven strands behind pointed ears. “I always wondered who that lock belonged to. At first, I thought it was Ecthelion’s, but his hair was not that dark. Yours is. As dark as the night.”
“Glorfindel, I… I do not want to lose you ever again. I do not think my soul could take it.” Erestor curled his fingers around Glorfindel’s.
“I will always be at your side, meleth3. From this moment on, we will be inseparable.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Elrond didn’t expect that knock on his door and raised an eyebrow, wondering who dared disturbing him whilst he was working. “Melpomaen, would you see to that?”
Melpomaen bowed and opened the door. “My Lord Glorfindel?”
“I need to speak with Elrond – now.”
Elrond sighed and placed the report he was reading on his desk; he knew that tone. “Let Glorfindel enter and leave us alone, Melpomaen.” He didn’t know what troubled Glorfindel, but that tone made it very clear that the warrior wanted to discuss something and that he wanted to discuss it *now*.
Melpomaen gave Glorfindel a puzzled look, seeing the warrior was holding hands with Mornén, but he did as Elrond requested and closed the door behind him on his way out.
Glorfindel and Erestor shuffled into the room, finding courage in the fact that their fingers were still intertwined. “I love you,” whispered Glorfindel.
“I love you too,” mumbled Erestor, following Glorfindel closer to Elrond’s desk.
The half-Elf immediately noticed the laced fingers and stopped himself from raising an eyebrow questioningly. He had the feeling Glorfindel was about to explain this to him.
“Elrond, may I introduce my bonded mate to you? This is not Mornén, but Erestor. He has been using a false name for a long time and when I did not recognize him, he decided to continue to use it so I would not feel compromised.”
Now Elrond’s eyebrow *did* inch higher. “Say that again?”
“Let me explain this, my Lord,” said Erestor. “After losing Glorfindel, I stopped being Erestor and called myself Mornén. In order to survive I needed to leave my former life behind. Mithrandir found me and I agreed to spy for him. When Glorfindel found me and did not recognize me, I despaired and did not try to approach him.”
Elrond frowned. “Glorfindel, explain this to me – properly, so I can understand.”
“We talked, Elrond. He sought me out on the training grounds and whilst we talked, my memories returned to me. I do not know why I forgot about Erestor in the first place. Lindir also wondered about that.” Glorfindel uncovered the locket and opened it. “This was a gift from Erestor. He gave it to me on one of our binding anniversaries. This is his hair.”
Elrond thought it was rather convenient for Glorfindel’s memories to surface again now that Erestor was close, but he kept quiet, seeing the bliss in their eyes. Something about this story just didn’t sound right! He rose from behind his desk and advanced on Mornén… nay, Erestor. He studied the raven-haired Elf more carefully than ever before and said, “You are the one who rescued Lindir and took him to Círdan?”
“Aye.” Erestor felt on guard, realizing Elrond was a hard Elf to deceive. “I took Lindir into safety.”
“Lindir and Círdan told me they witnessed a light… not you,” said Elrond, skeptically.
“Lindir was probably feverish and told Círdan he had been rescued in a mysterious way. The truth is that we traveled for weeks.” Erestor knew this was the weak spot – if determined, Elrond could expose him.
Elrond considered this. If Erestor’s story was true and they had traveled for weeks, Lindir’s wounds should have healed once they had arrived on the Isle of Balar. But Lindir’s wounds had been fresh, bleeding even. In the end, he decided against exposing Erestor, for he had wanted to see Glorfindel happy for so long and the blond warrior was ecstatic now. Elrond didn’t want to ruin that. He wanted Glorfindel to be happy. He would let this matter rest for now – but he planned on discussing this with Erestor in a private setting later. He had to know the truth!
“I bid you welcome to Imladris, Erestor of Gondolin,” said Elrond in a formal voice. “I must say that this is rather unexpected, but my heart rejoices for you, Glorfindel, now that you have your beloved back. I must admit that I doubted Lindir’s words occasionally, whenever he insisted Erestor was real, but I am looking at him now.” Then, he realized something else. “In what capacity did you serve Glorfindel in Gondolin?”
“I advised Glorfindel occasionally,” said Erestor in a thoughtful voice. He hadn’t exactly served anyone when he had lived in Gondolin, but Elrond didn’t need to know that.
“Your experience as an adviser and your personal knowledge of Thranduil might come in handy. Would you become one of my advisors, Erestor?” That way, he could make good use of Erestor’s talents *and* keep a close eye on him at the same time.
“I am honored and I gladly accept your offer, my Lord.” Erestor realized this was a temporary truce at best. Elrond wouldn’t rest until he knew the truth about him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“These are my rooms… Will you live with me here?” Glorfindel closed the door behind Erestor and instantly arranged his beloved in his arms, so he could hold him tight.
“Aye, I will.” Erestor pulled Glorfindel with him toward the bed, where they lay down, face to face and hugging each other close. “Do you remember the nights shared in your house in Gondolin?”
“And little Eärendil sneaking into our bed? Aye, I do!” Glorfindel first laughed warmly and then smiled at his beloved. “I also remember your reluctance to try that position I so carefully researched.” His tone became tender and full of longing. “I never took another lover, Erestor. I only ever made love to you.”
“There was no other for me either. I only want you, meleth.” Erestor used his hold on Glorfindel to roll the warrior atop of him. Staring into the sapphire eyes, he whispered his true desire. “Take me? Claim me and confirm our bond? Please?”
Glorfindel nodded; his hands were already busy undoing the lacing of their leggings. “Raise your hips, meleth.” Oh, he knew the body beneath his fingertips – his fingertips still remembered how to make Erestor squirm and beg for more. Within seconds, he had done away with the restricting leggings and he was about to unbutton their shirts when he felt Erestor’s oiled fingers stroke his hard flesh. An eyebrow inched higher. “Where did you find that oil?”
“On the nightstand… You still use rose-scented oil to untangle your hair.” Erestor pushed a pillow beneath his hips and his heart raced, feeling Glorfindel settle comfortably between his thighs. “Please, I need to feel you. I have missed you… I need you close.”
The same need overwhelmed Glorfindel. The urge to become one made him enter Erestor unprepared and his lover groaned, deep in his throat. He was sorry for the discomfort he was causing, but he couldn’t stop now and buried himself to the hilt.
Erestor’s eyes remained locked with Glorfindel’s, experiencing the most possessive and intense penetration he ever had. His every sense was trained on Glorfindel, and feeling his lover’s hard flesh inside of him after so long caused tears of happiness to leak from his eyes. “I love you so much!”
Glorfindel claimed his lover’s lips, and his tongue slipped past parted lips and teeth. He pulled out completely, and then thrust inside forcefully, making the bed shake beneath them. Erestor nipped at his tongue, making him growl.
“More… make me feel you!” Erestor raised his hips and met Glorfindel’s next thrust with wild abandon. The pace they set was almost brutal, but it was passion and longing that fueled their actions. Glorfindel wanted to possess him, to never let go, and Erestor wanted nothing more than to belong to his golden-haired warrior.
Grunting, Glorfindel confirmed their bond by climaxing inside his lover. He collapsed on top of Erestor and pulled his beloved close to him once more. He thrust a few more times, shallowly, as if to stake his claim once more, but he then stilled inside his lover’s body – his member softening. “You haven’t climaxed yet,” he realized belatedly.
Erestor drew in a deep breath, feeling Glorfindel’s sated member slip from his passage. “Allow me to take you in turn and to complete the circle once more?”
Glorfindel grinned, lazily, and rolled off of Erestor and onto his stomach. “Make love to me, meleth.” Their lovemaking felt trusted and warmed his soul, taking away his loneliness. Aye, it had been Erestor who had been missing from his life!
Erestor reached for the oil again and coated his member with the slippery liquid. “Are you ready to receive me, melethron4?”
“Take me like you used to in Gondolin. Make love to me – slowly.” Glorfindel was completely relaxed when Erestor entered him -- slowly, as had been his request.
Erestor stretched atop of Glorfindel and placed his body on that of his lover’s. Licking the nape of his lover’s neck, he delivered a slow, deep stroke and felt Glorfindel tremble beneath him. He pushed his arms beneath Glorfindel’s chest and hugged him close. Moving his hips ever so lightly, he located his lover’s prostate and thrust in such a way that he constantly massaged that sensitive gland inside his beloved’s passage. “I will always love you,” he whispered into Glorfindel’s ear. “You are the only one for me.” Because of the slow pacing he was setting, he lasted longer than he had thought. When he finally spilt himself inside his lover’s body, he felt complete again. “You are mine, Glorfindel.”
“Aye, I am yours…” Glorfindel smiled, blissfully, having reached orgasm a second time due to his lover’s attentive lovemaking. “And you are mine.”
“Forever.”
“Aye, forever.”
Erestor slowly pulled out, rolled Glorfindel gently onto his side and spooned behind him. /I do not know how long our happiness will last, meleth, but I will do anything I can to keep our love alive and intact./
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
During the next few weeks, love and happiness blossomed in Imladris and it wasn’t long before love was rewarded.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Elrond?” Celebrían ran toward her husband, who promptly caught her in his arms and whirled her around.
“What is it, Melethril?” Elrond held her close and his eyes widened, seeing the spark in her silver-blue ones. “Did we…?”
“We created new life! I conceived! We are going to be parents!” Enthusiastically, she kissed him. “We are going to have a little one! A baby! Put me down, Elrond!” He was still whirling her around!
He quickly put her down. “I cannot believe that you conceived that quickly!”
She gave him a radiant smile. “Our child must know how much we will love him and is eager to come into the world.”
“Him?” Elrond raised an eyebrow. “Do you think…?”
“My instincts are telling me that we will have a son, Elrond.” She wrapped her arms around him and pressed close. “I am so happy that you are also a healer, meleth.”
“Aye, you are in the best hands with me.” Elrond kissed his wife on the lips. “I will take good care of you, Naneth5.”
She giggled at being addressed in that way, but she did like the way it sounded.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Glorfindel sat close to Erestor during dinner that night. Beneath the table, his fingers were entwined with his lover’s and every so often he rubbed the warm skin to convince himself that his beloved was real and at his side. So much in love was Glorfindel that at first he didn’t notice Elrond’s excitement and Celebrían’s aura of timidity.
However, Erestor had seen through the excitement and realized why Elrond was unable to sit quietly on his chair for long. Looking at the Lady of Imladris, he didn’t only see her inner light shine brightly, but two others as well. Celebrían was pregnant with twins, as he had foreseen. Had Elrond realized that as well yet? Elrond and Elros had been twins and history was about to repeat itself.
Melpomaen watched Glorfindel and Erestor closely. The two Elves had confided in him, as they would be working together in the future and he had been stunned to find out Mornén’s real identity. He had seen the happiness in Glorfindel’s eyes and had accepted the truth – though he couldn’t help feeling a bit on guard. Like Elrond, he felt the return of Erestor *and* of Glorfindel’s memories were engineered. But why?
Unable to keep quiet any longer, Elrond pushed himself to his feet. He cleared his throat, extended his left arm and waited for his wife to rise from her chair and place her hand in his. All Elves automatically grew quiet, seeing the couple rise. They looked expectedly at them.
“Friends,” started Elrond, who blushed a delicate red. “I have a joyful announcement to make tonight. My Lady has conceived. She will give birth to the heir of Imladris within the next year.” His voice – already soft and loving – became adoring. “It won’t be long before tiny feet will be heard running through this house.”
The members of Elrond’s s household cheered and several Elves approached the couple to wish them the best. All the Elves looked forward to finally having an Elfling in the Last Homely House.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
/I cannot stay. The longer I stay, the harder saying goodbye will become./ Lómion had freed himself of Ereinion’s protective embrace, left the bed and now tiptoed over to the doorway. /I cannot stay here. If what Ereinion suggested is true, and the other souls can see me now, I have to leave and find a refuge where they will never find me. If the souls find me here – in his rooms and his arms – they will shun him as well as me and I do not want for that to happen. Ereinion deserves better./
But would his fingers be able to turn the door knob? Or would they pass through the material? If they did, he would be forced to remain here and all choice would be taken away from him.
Carefully, he placed his fingers on the door knob and his eyes widened, feeling metal beneath his fingertips. Slowly, he turned the door knob and the door opened. Panic came over him – only a moment ago he had been certain that this was the right thing to do, but now he wondered. He wondered how he could cope without Ereinion’s affection and support. It was only because of the former King that he had been able to face his past. Now he would be alone again with his memories! /I cannot stay! They will judge him harshly for taking me in and I cannot allow for that to happen!/
Lómion closed the door behind and shivered, realizing there was a chance they would see and recognize him and the souls wouldn’t judge him kindly. He pulled the hood lower over his face so they couldn’t see his features, should he be visible to them. Looking about, he wondered what direction to head in. In the end, he decided to head for the wing where Námo’s quarters were situated. He would find a hiding place there. The souls never dared going near the Doomsman of the Valar. Aye, he would be safe there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later that evening, Elrond, his wife, Erestor and Glorfindel retired to the Lord’s private chambers. Glorfindel was ecstatic after hearing the good news and almost smothered Celebrían with his protectiveness.
“I will not break!” said Celebrían, wondering if she should be bemused or worried now that the blond warrior was treating her like she was made of delicate glass.
“I know that, my Lady, but… I cannot help myself!” Glorfindel watched – almost anxiously – as she seated herself. He barely withstood the urge to inquire if she was comfortable. He would gladly fetch whatever she needed!
Amused, Erestor watched his lover fuss over the pregnant she-Elf, all the while very much aware of the fact that another Elf was anxious to take care of Celebrían. In the end, he walked over to Glorfindel, folded an arm around his lover’s waist and forcefully pulled him toward the doorway.
“What are you doing?” Glorfindel’s blue eyes sought out his lover’s.
“Don’t you understand, meleth? It is Elrond’s task to fuss over his wife – not yours.”
Realization settled in and Glorfindel nodded his head. “You are right, of course.” Now that he was no longer fussing over Celebrían, Elrond had moved in to pamper his wife, who happily allowed it.
“I will let you fuss over me instead,” offered Erestor in a seductive voice.
That tone set off several reactions in Glorfindel’s mind and body. One of them was growing erect and craving feeling Erestor move beneath him. “Will you allow me to possess you tonight?”
The whispered words made Erestor shiver with delight. He had missed hearing them in the past. Only now did he realize how empty his life in his father’s Halls had been without Glorfindel close. “I will even try that ridiculous position for you.”
“Ah, the one I suggested whilst we lived in Gondolin?” Glorfindel had forgotten about pampering Celebrían and followed Erestor to their rooms. “You *are* more flexible than you think!”
Erestor grinned wickedly. “Or maybe we should reverse positions and find out just how flexible *you* are, meleth?”
Glorfindel swallowed, hard. “Oh, I would love to find out. Come with me,” he said, now practically running down the corridor and dragging Erestor along with him. “I want to tear those clothes off of your body and finally make love to you!”
Erestor couldn’t agree more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ecthelion was lost in thought and not paying much attention to where he was going. After waiting for so many millennia, he wondered if he would ever find the love Erestor and Námo had predicted was waiting for him in the future.
He had watched Vairë weave her latest tapestry and had learned of Glorfindel finding his lover again. He was happy that his friends had confirmed their love once more, but that still left him alone. Just how many more millennia would the Valar demand he wait? And what if this Elrohir was never to be born at all? What if inventing this Elrohir was nothing but a way to lessen the pain that he would never find a love of his own?
Unexpectedly, he collided with a solid form, and he caught himself just in time to prevent a fall. As his eyes had been trained on the floor, he looked up – quite stunned that the collision had had such an impact on him. Most fëar6 didn’t feel that solid!
In surprise, he blinked. He had seen this one before. The soul was dressed in black robes and a hood had been pulled forward to protect his features. This was the fëa7 he had found resting in Ereinion’s arms. “I apologize for not looking where I was going,” he said. “I was lost in thought.”
Lómion didn’t know how to react to that apology – it meant that Ecthelion still didn’t know who he was dealing with. He nodded once and tried to get past the other soul, but Ecthelion was blocking his path. What was the former Lord of the Fountain doing this close to Námo’s personal chambers? Lómion hadn’t been looking where he was going either, convinced that he was alone in this wing.
Ecthelion’s eyes narrowed, curiously, now that the other soul didn’t speak. “I know you.”
Lómion froze. Had he been deluding himself when he thought that his identity was still a secret? He successfully fought the urge to raise his eyes and to at look Ecthelion.
“You were in Ereinion’s rooms… He had taken you into his arms and was holding you whilst you dreamt. I must confess to being curious to find out your name. Who are you that the former High-King accepts you so easily? He has kept everyone of us at a distance.”
Lómion took a step away from Ecthelion when the dark-haired Elf raised an arm in order to push back his hood. “Nay, I beg of you!” He couldn’t be discovered so soon! Ecthelion would spread the news of his existence throughout the Halls!
Hearing that voice – no matter how distorted it sounded – sent shivers of recognition through Ecthelion’s soul. “You?” Ecthelion hissed the word in hatred and his hand managed to grab hold of the hood, which he relentlessly pushed back, not caring when he heard the other Elf’s outcry of shame and misery.
Lómion tried to move away, but Ecthelion moved faster and removed the hood, exposing Maeglin’s face to him. Knowing what horrible sight now greeted the former Captain of the Fountain, Lómion flinched and pressed himself against the wall. “Do not look at me.”
Ecthelion’s eyes widened in shock. He had expected to find Maeglin’s face – intact and with eyes glowing from hatred – but he had never expected to find such a miserable creature hiding beneath the safety of the hood. Maeglin’s face was burned and blistered. The once, shiny dark hair was matted and burned scalp showed beneath the strands. The eyes, lowered to the ground, spoke of immense suffering. Nay, this was not what he had expected. “What happened to you?”
“Tuor threw me into the fire. Surely you remember that.” Lómion kept his eyes trained on the floor, not wanting to aggravate Ecthelion.
“I know that, but… I thought that the Valar would not allow you inside these Halls. I always thought…” What was it he had thought? Had he ever really thought about Maeglin’s fate?
“I have been here – always,” admitted Lómion in a choked voice. “They sentenced me to walk these Halls forever – unseen and unnoticed. I have watched all of you these last few millennia.”
“And we never saw you?” Ecthelion frowned. “How is it possible then that I see you now?”
“That is Námo’s doing.” Lómion finally tore his gaze away from the floor and looked behind Ecthelion, trying to gauge the distance between them and the doorway. If only he could get past Ecthelion! Then he would have a chance to get away!
Ecthelion had mixed feelings in this matter. “They should have devised a punishment more severe! Do you have any idea how many Elves you sentenced to death by collaborating with Morgoth? I was forced to watch my friends die one by one!”
Lómion flinched beneath Ecthelion’s words and someplace deep inside his fëa Maeglin stirred. He ruthlessly suppressed the other part of his soul – he couldn’t allow Maeglin to surface ever again!
“Gondolin fell because of you! Traitor!” Anger and frustration had been pent up for millennia and Ecthelion struck the other soul – hard.
Lómion staggered under the impact of the blow. The flat of Ecthelion’s hand connected with his cheek and he reeled on his feet. He remained quiet though, fully understanding that he deserved that blow – and many more – for what he had done. The skin – there, where Ecthelion’s blow had struck – burned and he tried to ignore the pain, but slowly, blistered skin let loose from his face and floated down onto the floor.
Regaining control over his raging emotions, Ecthelion felt ashamed of having let go in such an unworthy way. No matter what Maeglin had done in the past, he should have restrained himself and he should not have lashed out! Ecthelion took a step away from Maeglin and stared at his hand, which was covered with little pieces of charred skin.
Lómion didn’t know how to react either and remained motionless. They had reached an impasse, and neither soul knew how to solve this situation. Eventually, Lómion said, “Please, let me pass. I will remain hidden and my hideous sight will never offend your eyes again.”
Ecthelion frowned at hearing those words. /The other souls need to know that you are here. I need to warn them./ By the Grace of the Valar, how would Turgon react when learning that Maeglin was among them?
“Lómion! Stay where you are!” Ereinion ran toward the lost soul, hoping Lómion wouldn’t panic and run away from him again. He had panicked himself, finding his arms empty when he had woken up. Instantly, he had left his rooms in search of the other soul.
Lómion fought his own private war, seeing Ereinion running toward him. He wanted nothing more than to throw himself into the protective arms, but at the same time he knew he didn’t deserve Ereinion’s affection and protection.
In wonder, Ecthelion watched how Ereinion wrapped his arms around Maeglin, quickly pulling the hood back in place again. The former High-King’s action baffled him. “What are you doing? Don’t you know who he is?” Ereinion had called Maeglin Lómion. What did that mean?
“I know who I am holding in my arms, Ecthelion,” said Ereinion in a firm voice. “But do you really know who he is? Or are you simply assuming you know?” He pulled Lómion close and tried to soothe the troubled soul, who now shivered against him.
“I know who Maeglin is, Ereinion. He is a traitor and yet you embrace him and hold him close?” Ecthelion felt nothing but hatred for Ereinion at that moment. “Do you have any idea how many of my loved ones died because of his evil?”
“No evil,” replied Ereinion, steadfast. He sought out Ecthelion’s gaze and faced the angry glare. “Do you wish to know the truth?”
“Nay! You cannot tell him!” Lómion raised his head and shocked eyes found Ereinion’s. “You cannot tell him when I told you!”
In a remarkably soft tone said Ereinion, “Don’t you understand, Lómion? Your redemption lies in making them understand. You must share your past with him.”
“I cannot do that.” Lómion’s large dark eyes filled with tears. “I cannot go through all that pain again.”
“Then let me tell him. Will you let me?” Ereinion gave Lómion an encouraging look.
Ecthelion’s gaze traveled from one soul to the other. “What are you talking about, Ereinion?”
“Will you let me tell him?” asked Ereinion once more, ignoring Ecthelion for now.
Realizing that he didn’t have a real choice, Lómion nodded in the end. “But please do not force me to listen.”
“I won’t.” Ereinion tightened his hold on his charge and felt relieved when Lómion allowed the hold. Then, his eyes sought out Ecthelion’s puzzled ones. “Do you want to know the truth, Lord of the Fountain? Do you want to hear the whole story?”
Ecthelion was tempted to say no. What good would hearing Maeglin’s life story do him? Maeglin was evil – a traitor! So why was he suddenly nodding his head? Maybe, there was a small part of him that wondered why Ereinion was acting in that way. What did the former High-King know that he didn’t?
“Follow us back to my rooms, then,” instructed Ereinion, leading Lómion out of the corridor. He looked over his shoulder to find out if Ecthelion was following them, and when he did, he saw Námo standing behind the Lord of the Fountain. The Vala’s dark eyes shone with compassion and hope. /I hope I won’t disappoint you./
/You won’t./
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Glorfindel lay facing Erestor. Before going to sleep after a fulfilling night of love-making, he had draped an arm over his lover’s hip and now caressed the soft skin beneath his fingertips. It was still beyond him how he could have forgotten about Erestor, and he thanked Lindir for telling him that he was already bonded. Although he hadn’t met an Elf yet who had captured his heart, he might have tried harder finding one, had he believed himself unbound.
But thankfully his memories had returned to him, showing just how deep their love ran. When those memories had first surfaced, he had been stunned to find just how much they loved each other. He vividly remembered the first time they had made love and the way Erestor had taken himself – his lover been so extremely eager to bind to him that he had been left hurt in the process.
/Thank you,/ he sent to the Valar. /Thank you for allowing him to find me. Thank you for allowing me to remember our love./ He didn’t expect an answer and didn’t get one, but that mattered little.
/Our binding anniversary will shortly be upon us and I want to do something special to confirm our love. I want to make it up to you that I forgot about you./
Glorfindel’s troubled thoughts woke Erestor, whose dark eyes met his lover’s lucid blue ones. “Why are you brooding?”
“I love you so much,” said Glorfindel, running his hand up and down Erestor’s spine. “Oh, how I wish this moment in time would never end. I want to be like this forever.”
Erestor gave Glorfindel a look filled with understanding. “But nothing ever lasts forever, Glorfindel. It won’t be long until we have to return to our work.”
“But you will always return to my arms, won’t you? Promise me that you will. No matter what happens in the future, promise me this.”
Erestor gave Glorfindel a rueful smile. “I do not know if I can keep such a promise, but I will do my best to try. Regardless of what will happen in the future, please know that I will never stop loving you.”
That was good enough for Glorfindel, who hugged his love close and showered a shoulder with kisses. “You belong with me.”
“Aye, I do.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I do not want to hear this,” said Lómion in a determined voice. “Please wait with telling him until I am asleep.” Aided by Ereinion, Lómion lay down on the bed. He pulled his knees close to his chest, bowed his head and even pulled the blanket over his body, effectively hiding his form from Ereinion and Ecthelion.
Ecthelion’s lips turned into a snarl, seeing with how much care and affection Ereinion tended to the traitor’s demands. Ereinion even tucked the blanket around Maeglin’s form and stroked the hair through the fabric of the hood before leaving the traitor to his dreams.
Lómion forced himself to fall asleep and he fled into a landscape of dreams, still amazed that Lórien allowed him to find comfort here.
“Are you always this considerate of a traitor’s needs?” said Ecthelion, starting their conversation.
Ereinion sat down on a chair opposite Ecthelion and realized this wouldn’t be easy. He had learned of Lómion’s suffering first-hand and Ecthelion wouldn’t see the other Elf’s suffering the way he had, but he had to try to make Ecthelion see the truth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ecthelion remained quiet for long moments after Ereinion had stopped talking. It was true, when he had accepted Ereinion’s invitation to learn more about Maeglin, he hadn’t expected to learn any of this. His gaze shifted from the former High-King to Maeglin – Lómion, as Ereinion called him. This time, he thought about his words before actually speaking them. “I feel for the Elfling who was subjected to such torment, but…”
Ereinion forced himself to be patient and to let Ecthelion finish instead of rushing to Lómion’s defense.
“But he made the decision to betray Gondolin and her inhabitants. No one forced him to do so.”
“I am not saying he does not carry the guilt for that deed,” said Ereinion eventually. “But please keep in mind that you are dealing with a different personality here. Aye, Lómion remembers what Maeglin did and he did not fight him as he should have, but Lómion is not Maeglin. They are different people.”
Ecthelion shook his head. “You are allowing him to delude you. Lómion and Maeglin are one and the same person.”
“You saw his eyes, Ecthelion. Can you honestly tell me that they are Maeglin’s?”
Ecthelion considered this. “The eyes are the same – dark and haunted – but I must admit there is something new to them – something different.”
“What you saw was a child – a frightened child. Aye, Maeglin lives on in Lómion, but the evil Elf you have known is no more. My compassion – my need to understand – took away his reason to exist. Don’t you see, Ecthelion? Maeglin became so strong because no one cared about Lómion. I am not saying that Turgon made a mistake in making Maeglin his confidant, for you must admit Maeglin did fight bravely in those first days, but he should have delved deeper. He should have tried to uncover why Maeglin was the way he was.”
Ecthelion couldn’t deny there was truth to Ereinion’s words, but… “Do you really expect me to forgive him and accept him? To befriend him as you did? I saw the horrid deeds he committed… You never did. You never were exposed to that side of him.”
“And that is probably the very reason why I saw the scared child hidden beneath the angry adult, aye.” Ereinion’s gaze came to rest upon Lómion’s trembling form. “That is why I can soothe him when the nightmares are upon him.” He left his chair, walked over to the bed and sat down. Resting a hand on Lómion’s hot brow, he whispered words of comfort. “The monster is not here, meldir8. You are safe with me, pen-neth9.”
Although Ecthelion was determined to continue to hate Maeglin, he rose from his chair and came to a standstill at the foot end of the bed. He watched closely as Ereinion calmed Maeglin and apparently chased away the nightmares. “What are they about?”
“What do you think?” Ereinion gave Ecthelion a probing look. “Eöl still haunts him.”
“He walks the Halls of Waiting…” said Ecthelion in a thoughtful tone. “How would he react when he finds out his son is here?”
“Even if he does find out Lómion has found a refuge here I will keep him from approaching him.”
Ecthelion looked up in surprise, finding Námo had answered his question and not Ereinion as he had thought at first. “My Lord,” he said, feeling rather stunned to find the Vala this close unexpectedly. The Doomsman of the Vala stood behind him and studied Lómion, who was still dreaming.
“My brother does all he can to keep the nightmares away from Lómion, but the undealt-with memories are strong.” Námo wished he could do more for Lómion but even his means were limited. It was Ereinion who would bring Lómion redemption – or not. The former High-King had already made a start, confiding in Ecthelion. “So, tell me, Lord of the Fountain, what do you think of Lómion now?”
Ecthelion turned so he was face to face with the Vala. “Would you answer me one question, my Lord, before I answer yours?”
Námo nodded. “I call him Lómion, because that is who he is. Ereinion spoke the truth earlier when he told you about Maeglin. Aye, Maeglin is and always will be a part of Lómion, but a part he no longer needs. Lómion still feels and reacts like an Elfling, but he also knows that this part of him did unspeakable things in the past. And he takes the blame for it. Lómion carries a great burden – much too great for a mere Elfling.”
Ereinion shifted further onto the bed until his back rested against the headboard. He had done this part, now it was up to Námo and Ecthelion. Lómion didn’t wake when he pulled the dreaming soul close and stroked the blistered skin through the fabric of the black robes. He also continued to listen to the conversation Námo and Ecthelion were now carrying on.
“Ereinion has started a process that cannot be reversed. Lómion has found the courage to face himself and he has found a true champion in Ereinion Gil-Galad, but he needs more. He needs more friends, more souls who are willing to support him and stand by him in the time to come.” Námo sensed the conflict deep within Ecthelion’s soul and waited – patiently – for the warrior to reach his decision.
“You do not know what you are asking of me! I cannot befriend and support someone who is responsible for the death of so many!” Ecthelion shook his head. “You say it is Lómion who Ereinion is holding, but I say it is Maeglin! He even carries the burns the fire left on him!”
Námo realized more convincing measures were in order and he approached the sleeping soul. His eyes sought out Ereinion’s when he reached to push the back the hood. “Put your trust in me,” he asked of the former High-King.
“I did that the first time you talked to me and you haven’t disappointed me yet. Do what you must,” said Ereinion, steeling himself for whatever action Námo deemed necessary.
“Ecthelion, come here and stand beside me.” Námo blocked Ecthelion’s view of Lómion’s form and waited for the warrior to do as he had bid.
Reluctantly, Ecthelion took up position at Námo’s side. Although he felt sorry for what Maeglin had gone through as an Elfling, he didn’t feel it warranted giving him a second chance.
“Look at Lómion and tell me what you see,” ordered Námo, finally moving away so Ecthelion could see.
Ecthelion was about to tell the Vala that he saw the traitor, with his charred flesh, but he never managed to speak those words, for it wasn’t Maeglin’s burned form he was looking upon. “What did you do?”
“This is Lómion. This is the soul you are so willing to condemn to eternal torment. Have a good look at him, Ecthelion.” Námo took another step away from the bed and watched Ecthelion’s reactions closely.
Ecthelion stared in disbelief at the Elf in Ereinion’s arms. Although he could still discern Maeglin’s features, he was looking at a much younger face – that of an Elfling.
“He was twenty-five years old when Eöl first raped him,” said Námo, relentlessly. “Tell me, how would you have reacted had you been in his place? But no, you were spared such a childhood and only knew love and dedication. Things were different for this one. He is still so very young, but if you look closely you can see the lines of pain etched onto his brow.”
Entranced – Ecthelion moved closer. His right hand hovered above the unmarred face. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. There was openness, pain, suffering and lost hope in the sleeping eyes and aye, Námo was right; deep lines of misery were etched upon his forehead. “This is nothing but a child.” Not the adult who had betrayed Gondolin.
“Now you see him as he truly is. This is Lómion before Maeglin appeared to shelter the hurting infant from his father’s lust.” Námo exchanged a glance with Ecthelion. “Can you truly condemn this child?”
Ereinion, who had listened closely, had grown curious and peeked at the Elfling’s face. He hadn’t seen Lómion or Maeglin in life and didn’t know what to expect. But when he looked upon that young face, his heart contracted painfully. Using his imagination, he could see how Lómion would have looked as an adult, if Eöl had left his son and wife alone. “He would truly have been a child of the twilight.”
“Nay,” said Námo. “His light would have shone as bright as Glorfindel’s had it not been for Eöl’s appalling deeds.”
Ecthelion bowed his head in defeat. “I do not know if I can accept this. I have long thought of him as the traitor – the one responsible for the deaths of so many.”
Námo raised an arm and rested it on Ecthelion’s shoulder. “Know this, my child. Morgoth would have attacked without Maeglin aiding him. Morgoth would have murdered everyone in sight and eventually, he would have demanded Maeglin’s life as well. Ereinion told you what made Maeglin give in to Morgoth. He was trying to protect Lómion from suffering further abuse.”
“I cannot make such a decision now,” said Ecthelion, feeling nervous and trapped. “You are asking me to change what I thought of as the truth for millennia.”
“You do not have to reach a decision now,” replied Námo, removing his hand from Ecthelion’s shoulder. “You will join the other souls again and you will keep quiet about Lómion for now. I want you to reach your own decision. If you told the other souls they would certainly influence your decision.”
Transfixed, Ecthelion watched as Lómion’s face changed back into the charred mess Maeglin’s face had become. “I need to leave now.” He had to leave this room for he felt like he was about to suffocate!
“Go then and think!” At Námo’s command the door opened and Ecthelion practically fled the room, running into the corridor.
That left Ereinion and Námo alone – as Lómion was still dreaming.
“Thank you,” said Ereinion. “I failed to convince him.”
“Nay, you did not. Ecthelion only needed to see for himself that Lómion is not evil.”
“What will happen next?” asked Ereinion, looking at the sleeping soul in his arms. Although the injuries had returned to mar the face, he still thought he saw Lómion’s youthful features hidden beneath the burns.
“Ecthelion will reach a decision – a decision, which will remain hidden from himself until the moment of truth for him arrives.” Námo smiled at the sleeping soul. “You have no idea how long I have waited for someone to be his champion.”
“Why did you not do it yourself? You seem to care about him.”
Námo’s eyes twinkled. “Remember what I told you, Ereinion Gil-Galad. Lindir became your lover, did he not? I am already married and although Vairë would understand, it is not my destiny to release this one from his chains.”
“We will become lovers?” Ereinion wondered why that prospect didn’t shock him. Maybe it was because he saw the beauty of Lómion’s soul beneath Maeglin’s burns.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You are two months along now,” said Elrond in a thoughtful voice. “And I feel…”
“What do you feel?” Celebrían couldn’t help growing worried at hearing her husband’s concerned tone. “Is anything amiss? Is anything wrong with our baby?”
Elrond felt conflicted. “It is still too early to feel anything,” he said, as his fingers tenderly probed his wife’s abdominal area. “But I sense something.”
“You sense something?” Celebrían was growing frustrated. “Why don’t you simply tell me what you are sensing, *husband*?” She stressed that last word, letting him know not to stall. She wanted answers and she wanted them now!
Elrond drew in a deep breath. “As a healer I can direct my energy toward this new life growing inside you and I sense…”
“Do not make me hurt you, Elrond Peredhel10! You are responsible for putting me in this position and I demand you share what you know!” She gave him a menacing look.
“I sense two lights, not one.” Elrond cringed and averted his eyes, uncertain how his wife would react to this fact. “You are carrying twins, Melethril.” He didn’t know why this came as a shock to him – he should have realized this could happen.
“Twins?” Celebrían’s eyes widened and she curled her fingers around her husband’s hand, which still rested on her abdomen. “I am carrying twins? How can that be?” Twins were extremely rare among the Firstborn!
“I was part of a twinning once,” said Elrond, and an old pain attacked him from within. “My twin’s name was Elros and I loved him dearly.”
Celebrían blinked, suddenly recalling her father had once mentioned Elros to her. “Of course. Twins… I never considered that could happen to us.”
Elrond lifted his eyes and searched his wife’s silver-blue ones. “I honestly did not think it would happen either. I always assumed it would never happen again. My mother had twin brothers and apparently it did not skip this third generation and we are having twins, Melethril.” Elrond sat down and rubbed his wife’s fingers. “How do you feel about this? Carrying twins will be more demanding on you and you will have to rest more often. Overall, your pregnancy will be more taxing.”
“But also more rewarding,” said Celebrían, smiling warmly. “The Valar have blessed us with *two* children, Elrond. Not just one.”
Elrond released a breath of relief. “I was afraid you would be displeased to learn this. After all, this is your first pregnancy and carrying twins…” He was unexpectedly silenced when his wife leaned in closer and placed her fingertips across his lips.
“I already love our sons,” she said, still smiling. “Elrond, I need to ask you this. Do you know their sex? Will we have daughters or…?”
“If my senses are not deluding me, I think we will have two sons.” He was ecstatic that he would have twin sons, but kept a tight rein on his emotions until he was absolutely certain that she shared his feelings.
“Sons… Two heirs for Imladris… two sons for us.” Celebrían
let the news sink in and then gave her husband a happy smile. “Will you do
something for me,
“I would do anything for you,” said Elrond in a voice that spoke of dedication and love.
“Would you name them?”
Elrond nodded once. “If that is your wish I will name them.”
Celebrían leaned closer against him and cherished feeling his arms wrapping themselves protectively around her middle. “And furthermore, you *will* pamper me.”
“I will read every wish from your eyes, Melethril.” Elrond brought one of her hands close to his lips and pressed a passionate kiss onto the back. “You will want for nothing.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next few months passed by quickly and the Lady of Imladris blossomed now that her husband lavished her with love and attention. She was required to rest many times each day, but there was always someone close to keep her company. The few times that Elrond was busy and couldn’t sit with her, Glorfindel, Erestor, or Melpomaen would stay close to her. All Elves were looking forward to the birth, but also realized the danger involved now that their Lady was carrying twins.
One evening, whilst Celebrían was already close to her term, Elrond invited their friends into their rooms for dinner. Celebrían, heavy and exhausted due to her pregnancy, rested in a comfortable chair and watched Elrond fuss over her with bemused eyes. She craved strawberries and although it was winter, Elrond had managed to grow the delicate fruit in a sheltered environment. The great lengths he went to in order to please her never ceased to amaze her and she loved him even more for it.
“I do not feel well tonight,” she said, rubbing her hand across her swollen abdomen. Elrond had told her that the birth could occur at any moment now, and although she trusted the healer in him completely, the prospect did worry her. She-Elves had died in child-birth before and she *was* carrying twins!
“Do you wish for me to send word to our friends that dinner has been canceled?” Elrond knelt at her feet and rested his head on her knees.
Celebrían’s fingers moved through his long hair, putting in lover’s knots. “Nay, I like their company. And Glorfindel always has amusing tales to tell.”
“Which normally involve Erestor and awkward situations?” Elrond smiled and rubbed his cheek against the fabric of her dress.
“Do you think Lindir will arrive in time for the birth?” The white-haired Elf had sent word that he was on his way back to Imladris and she hoped he would arrive in time.
“I hope so,” said Elrond, lifting his head to look into her eyes. “But Lindir is the least of my worries. Only your well-being counts right now.”
“I am so happy I married you,
“Aye, I did.” Elrond rested his ear against her belly and stroked the skin through her silver-colored dress. “Elladan for our firstborn and Elrohir for his brother – if those names please you.”
“They do,” said Celebrían, approving of the names. “They sound right.”
Soft music, coming from beneath their window drew their attention and Elrond pushed himself to his feet. Standing beneath their balcony was Lindir, singing softly and playing his lyre. The minstrel had chosen a romantic love song and his eyes swam with happiness when their gazes met. “’Tis Lindir,” said Elrond, who returned to his wife. “He has returned to us.”
She pulled him down until he sat on the armrest of her chair and rested her head against his strong body. “Then let us listen to his song.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later that night, the Elves gathered close. Lindir was ecstatic to find Erestor had returned to them and hugged the dark-haired advisor within an inch of his life. It was only due to Glorfindel’s dark gaze that the minstrel pulled away. “Erestor, I thought I would never see you again! What happened after you took me to the Isle of Balar?”
“I will share my history with you,” promised Erestor. “But not now. This is Celebrían’s night.”
Remembering that Erestor possessed the gift of foresight, Lindir’s eyes grew big. “Do you mean that…?”
“The twins will be born tonight,” confirmed Erestor, who went willingly when Glorfindel pulled him into his arms. “Do not worry,” he whispered into his lover’s ear. “I am yours – only yours.”
Glorfindel felt ashamed for being jealous of Lindir, but he couldn’t help himself. The mere thought of losing Erestor again filled him with terror.
“Elrond?
Elrond reacted by carefully lifting her from the chair. “I will take you to the Healing House and deliver our babies. You are in the best hands with me, Melethril.”
“I know that,” whispered Celebrían, feeling safe in her husband’s strong arms. In a few hours, she would hopefully hold her sons in her arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Stop pacing! You are driving me insane!” Erestor glared at Glorfindel, who couldn’t sit still. Beside him sat Lindir and the blue eyes stared at him in fright. “Calm yourself,” said Erestor. “All will be well with our Lady and the twins.”
That moment, Melpomaen rushed into the room. “I have sent word to the Golden Wood, but it will take the royal couple weeks to get here.”
“You did what you could,” said Erestor in a calm voice. “Now
sit and wait with us. It won’t be long before the first scream of a newborn
will greet this world.”
Glorfindel, Lindir and Melpomaen clung to Erestor’s words, and prayed for their Lady’s well-being.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Minutes later, that first cry firmly echoed through the Healing House, making the waiting Elves smile.
“Elladan has a powerful set of lungs,” said Erestor, jokingly, in an attempt to reassure his friends. Glorfindel reacted by kissing him on the lips. “I love you too.”
Then, another scream drifted toward them. “And that must be Elrohir,” said Glorfindel, feeling happy and relieved now that the babies had been delivered.
Calm descended onto them and smiles and happiness spread all through the Last Homely House.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“My Lord Elrond invites you to visit with his family,” said the healer, who was smiling radiantly now that the delivery had gone well. “Please follow me.”
Glorfindel, Erestor, Lindir and Melpomaen hurried after the healer, eager to congratulate the couple and to look upon the twins for the first time.
“Be quiet,” said Elrond, who had curled around his family. He gestured for them to approach the bed, and hoped they realized that his wife needed to rest. She had gone into a healing sleep after holding her babies for that very first time. He was exhausted himself, but refused to go to sleep now that he had a family to watch over. His wife and little ones needed him.
Erestor and Glorfindel reached the bed first and smiled, seeing the happy family, curled up close to each other. Elrond was on the outside, Celebrían at the heart, holding her twins close in sleep. The twins however, were awake and baby blue eyes looked curiously into the world.
Elrond smiled at his friends. “You can hold them if you want, but just do not wake Celebrían.” Carefully, he lifted Elladan, wondering which one of his friends was courageous enough to hold the tiny bundle. To his surprise, it was Lindir who offered the baby the safety of his arms.
Lindir held the precious bundle close and rocked him. “He is beautiful, Elrond. Is it just my imagination or does he bear the most resemblance to you?”
“Celebrían thought so too,” replied Elrond, lifting Elrohir.
“May I hold him?” Erestor moved forward and cradled the tiny body close to him.
Glorfindel felt torn – which baby should he offer his protection first?
“I vow to protect you, little Elrohir,” said Erestor, playing with the baby’s tiny fingers. “If necessary I will lay down my life for you.” No one in the room, save for Erestor himself, know how powerful this vow was – coming from one of the Valar himself.
Now that Erestor had extended his protection to Elrohir, Glorfindel moved to Lindir, who was still rocking Elladan. “And I will always be there for you, pen-neth. Elladan, I will protect you as long as I shall live.”
From the corner of the room Námo watched the gathering of happy Elves. He had made sure that he was invisible to his son’s eyes as he didn’t want to distract Erestor from the happiness his son felt now that he was holding precious new life in his arms.
/And so it continues… Elrohir has finally been born and Ecthelion will realize his true love exists. Lindir has healed and is holding his destiny in his arms. I wish their happiness would last forever – but it never does./
1 melethril –- (fem.) lover (Sindarin, noun)
2 pen-vaelui –- lustful one (Sindarin, noun, pronoun)*
3 meleth –- love (Sindarin, noun)
4 melethron –- (male) lover (Sindarin, noun)
5 naneth –- mother (Sindarin, noun)
6 fëar (pl.) –- souls (Quenyan, noun)
7 fëa (sing.) –- soul (Quenyan, noun)
8 meldir (sing.) –-“male” friend (Sindarin, noun) mell + dir
9 pen-neth (sing.) –- young one (Sindarin, noun, pronoun)
10 Peredhel (sing.) –- half-Elf (Sindarin, noun)
11
From the Council of Elrond Quenyan and Sindarin dictionary
* from Hiswelókë's Sindarin dictionary