True Bow (Cuthenin)

Cuthenin (True-Bow)

by F.E.Morton

unbeta'd

italics = thoughts

(elvish translation)

&/& text words text &/& designates beginning and ending
of recalled
events

Disclaimer: just borrowing, the characters and settings are Tolkien's,

the words here are mine. No money earned.

Summary: A look at what might happen if Legolas was just known as a

messenger and not as Thranduil's son. The setting is just before the

Council of Elrond. Features Glorfindel/Legolas
pairing.

Note: As before, we begin in the past and end in the present.
Everything written between these two symbols: &/& and
&/& happened
earlier in the day. Hope that is not too confusing.

This little chapter gives a glimpse into the means by which Glorfindel
made his decision to accept the role of Faer Hebon and why Legolas
agreed to allow it. We learn that Glorfindel has a confidante who is
not afraid to be direct and to the point. We get a glimpse of some of
the immediate effects of the soul-bond on the pair individually and as
a couple. Long term effects will be dealt with next chapter as these
two struggle both to learn of each other and fulfil their duties in the
dangerous days time of the Ring quest.

As always, I appreciate everyone's comments and reviews.

---

Tâd-ar-Paenui Peth: Faer Gwaedh (Part Twelve: Soul Bond)

&/&

"You have news for me? Gladly will I listen, for much has already been
spoken of you and the Wood Elf; most of it is ugly."

"Aye, it is. It is also false, that I assure you. This is not like the
situation with Rumil at all. Legolas is very different."

"Then tell me, what is it like?"

"I think Galdor will ask me to safeguard the silvan's feä in order
to forestall grieving. Cuthenin is in danger of fading."

"That troubles you."

"Should it not? Is it not a grievous wrong for one so young to be
removed from life? I would think the inherent pain of such a situation
would be obvious to you."

Glorfindel did not mean to be so sharp in
this reply, never wishing to call to her mind her own loss, and truly
did not understand why his nerves were so rattled by the simple
comment. He dropped his head with a chagrined sigh as soon as he saw
the spark of dismay within her cool grey eyes. He opened his mouth to
make an apology but the clear sound of Arwen's merry laughter sent the
words beyond his tongue's capacity. He looked up in confusion to see
the noble Lady smiling gently.

"Ah, you do not know how telling that reference is, my dear friend,"
said the fair elf maid. She reached out and took both of Glorfindel's
hands in hers, drawing him toward the settee to sit beside her near the
empty hearth. The two were in the sitting room of the Vanya warrior's
house.

She had entered at his front gate just as he had returned from
the talan through the rear postern. His distress, fresh from the
disturbing encounter with Erestor, plain upon his refined features. The
expansive heart of Celebrian's daughter at once sought to ease this
melancholy from her friend of many centuries, ushering him within to
begin the delicate verbal surgery that would extract the guilt and fear
from his mind.

"I did not know your feelings ran so deep and I believe
it is even a surprise to you."

"That is true, for my initial reaction was to decline this request.
What do I know of caring for the soul of this Wood Elf?" Glorfindel was
relieved that she was not offended by his thoughtless remark and
grateful for the genuine compassion and sound common sense of Elrond's
daughter.

"Is that what worries you or is it rather the quandary of how to
protect his soul without touching upon his heart?" Arwen held the
warrior's troubled gaze, searching the clear blue depths for the
answers her father's most trusted captain could not seem to call up.

A bright grin spread over Glorfindel's countenance, chasing away the
sombre turmoil and aggravated bewilderment. He clasped her hand tightly
and then kissed the pale white fingers. "How I have missed your
counsel!" he exclaimed. "It has been too long and letters, while
welcome and cherished, arrive far after the events to which they refer.
I am glad you have returned, Fileg'lîr (Little Song-bird.
Glorfindel's nickname for Arwen)."

"As am I, though you have avoided answering my query, Gûrraw,"
(Lion-heart. Arwen's nickname for Glorfindel) answered Arwen with a
smile and a shake of her head.

On the surface theirs seemed an unlikely friendship, yet the pair
shared many interests and a common dilemma that was completely absent
when in one another's company. Both were legendary: Glorfindel for his
valourous sacrifice and unexpected return to life, Arwen for her
likeness to Luthién and her revered status as Undomiél,
the Evenstar of her people. A pedestal can be a lonely place, though a
lofty one, and each was grateful never to have endured from the other
that mixture of awe and respect that either made people keep their
distance or fawn over them in obsequious excess. Arwen had never
worshipped Glorfindel as a hero; he had never adored her as a goddess.

Their camaraderie had begun the second day following the Vanya's
arrival in Imladris. While trying to find his way through the maze of
Elrond's house, he had become hopelessly lost and came upon the elf
maid as she walked along the corridor to the library, an armload of
books in her grasp. Now he had not met the gracious daughter of the
Peredhel Lord, for Glorfindel had spent his first day ensconced with
Elrond and the wizards, detailing the reasons for their unexpected
journey and the dark days ahead. Weariness had excused him from the
formal evening meal and thus while he knew of Arwen he had seen her
not.

Glorfindel thought this maiden bearing books one of the staff and
asked directions back to Elrond's private study. It was an honest
mistake; among the folk of the Last Homely House,
everyone treated one another with equity and the manner of dress among
employees was not so different from that of the noble family's. Indeed,
so it was in Aman: regardless of an elf's function in society, all were
treated with respect and appreciation.

That error had endeared him to her at once for Arwen had already grown
weary, though she was then but 759 years old, of the isolation her
status imposed. She had known his identity of course, for Elrond had
shared with his household the momentous news from Mithlond of the
impending journey to Imladris of the re-born warrior and five Istari.
She had invited Glorfindel into the library, promising a diagram of the
house and its many levels, and he had offered to help put away the
books.

Her selection included three that were favourites of his also,
and they began a conversation on the merits of the volumes and the
writers of the histories the books documented. They had become so
engrossed in discussing the role of the Second-born within the Music of
the Ainur that Glorfindel had quite forgotten the meeting with the
Elven Lord. By the time the chimes rang for tea they were friends.

For his part, Glorfindel had found the sincerity in Arwen's discerning
eyes as generous as the warm words of her gracious welcome. She had not
taken advantage of the gaffe to make him feel a fool as she could have
done. Instead she had introduced herself simply, acknowledged his
identity also, and then offered the aid of the map. She had not been
filled with questions about the Blessed Realm or the nature of
existence within Mandos, topics he had been asked of by nearly every
elf in Mithlond, it seemed.

Though young in years she presented a keen
understanding of ancient lore and a depth of comprehension in the
philosophies of the various free peoples few could match. He was glad
of a companion who wished to discuss other things than war and
destruction, Balrogs and Orcs, his death and re-birth. He was grateful
for someone accepting who did not expect him to have
all the answers, someone who listened.

How she accomplished it he did not
understand, but she was always able to hear within his words the
thoughts in the depths of his soul that were hidden even from his own
comprehension. Galadriel and Celebrian, it was said, had this gift of
reading hearts, so perhaps it was to be expected in Arwen as well. Yet
she was more than just a wise soothsayer to him. With all of his family
across the Sundering Sea, Arwen became his sister in all but blood. Had
she not arrived at his door that morn he would have sought her out to
discuss Cuthenin.

"I do not mean to turn aside your question," his smile was replaced
with a serious expression. "It is so; I fear to be linked to another's
heart after Erestor. Yet the dread of losing him stirs me to panic!"

"And is he so like Erestor that a similarly unequal bond is likely to
result between you?"

"Nay, he is nearly Erestor's opposite in every way. Legolas is
attracted to me but has no experience; he is a skilled warrior but so
very young, beautiful without a hint of conceit, derived from an
exalted family but ignobly born, trusting to the point of
naiveté. Arwen, he would entrust his soul to me on the counsel
of someone he has just met a day gone past."

"So then he is much like you were when you first met Erestor, with the
exception of the devotion to Pâd-en-Tawar." The truth of her
statement was a weighty one and made the atmosphere around them
decidedly gloomy. "You believe he cannot judge between the exhilaration
of physical attraction and the enduring commitment of fused hearts."

Glorfindel shifted on the cushions and looked away from her, releasing
her hands and clutching his together tightly in his lap, unable to
answer.

Arwen regarded him intently and after some minutes of silence had
elapsed she took a breath. "Nay, that is not it. You fear the defect is
in your heart. Valar, Glorfindel, you worry you would use him as a tool
to punish Erestor?"

"Nae (Alas) Fileg'lîr, I have already done so and the result has
far surpassed my subverted pride's design. Now Legolas may fade, for
Erestor revealed our past in graphic detail, twisting everything to
make me appear a duplicitous monster, incapable of fidelity,
inconsiderate of love. How can he trust me again?

"I…I did not expect to
feel anything other than lust and was pleased to find qualities of
character worthy of genuine admiration. Still, I had not thought more
than friendship and physical gratification would result, yet I find my
thoughts are on his welfare, not his desirable form."

At this Arwen cocked an incredulous brow.

"Well, more so than on his exquisite body." Glorfindel sent her a
salacious leer along with this admission.

"It is good to be honest," Arwen laughed, "and so why stop? You still
have not separated the elf you were from the elf you are. I spied
Erestor returning from this direction as I left the house. You have
spoken with him or was there something more?"

"We spoke and there might indeed have been more, but I resisted. We
have not been intimate since before Rumil left. Erestor has agreed the
bond is defunct and assures me he will not interfere in my affairs
henceforth. How can I convince Cuthenin to rely on this information? I
know not any words I can say to help him understand what caused me to
wound Erestor so deeply."

"That is because you do not own this deed yourself. Nothing and no one
caused you to injure Erestor's heart; that was a choice whether you
made it consciously or not. You seek to justify your actions but having
a reason does not give you the right. Erestor says the bond is severed;
what do you think about that? Are you ready to let go of your anger?"

"I do not feel angry; I feel ashamed." Glorfindel's head dropped low to
illustrate his words.

"Well, Gûrraw, that is not going to be of any value to Legolas'
welfare. Your shame is your own and you must not burden him with it; he
cannot take it away from you."

"I do not expect him to do that! Elbereth, Arwen, you are very blunt
today! I have already been subjected to a similar interrogation by
Galdor and did not expect it from you! Is it so wrong to wish Cuthenin
to forgive me?" The re-born warrior's visage snapped back up in
surprise, hurt feelings plain within his pained expression.

"Ah, but Galdor does not know you so well anymore, does he?" Arwen was
not moved by his woebegone look or his defensive words. "I am sure he
found your contrition most heartening; just what one would expect from
a valourous re-born hero. Indeed, he probably commended you for it and
will encourage the Wood Elf to accept you. I, however, have only known
you in this lifetime. We have always been honest with each other,
gwador (brother); would you have me cease now?"

"Your honesty is a torment today, gwathel (sister)."

"Nay, it is your conscience that supplies the torment. Tell me, for
what must Legolas forgive you?"

"As I said, for using him to wound Erestor. I need him to know I had no
wish to hurt him also."

"Nay, can you not see what you are doing? Glorfindel, he does not know
anything of that and he should not be made to endure such a confession.
It is not for him to ease your guilty conscience. How can you think of
telling him this? He does not owe you forgiveness; he does not exist to
supply your need."

"That is not what I think! Arwen, I need to know that he will accept me
as I am, flaws and all. I cannot bear to know he sees only the
caricature of heroic sacrifice history has crafted for me."

"You need to know this; how will you accomplish that? By hurting him
and then pleading absolution? If he grants it then will you be
convinced his heart is true? This seems a familiar pattern with but
different participants. Now you would stand in Erestor's place and put
Legolas in the one you endured."

Glorfindel just stared at her, a look of stricken sorrow on his face,
for he did not like the image of himself her words painted. Abruptly he
rose and stalked over to the sideboard where he kept a supply of wine
and spirits. He did not ask her if she wished for anything as he poured
out and gulped down a small glass of strong brandy, his back to Arwen
the while.

This was not the sort of conversation he had hoped to have.
Where was the sympathetic sister who offered comfort when he bared his
troubled soul? She seemed more concerned for Legolas than for him. That
thought gave him a jolt, for he found resentment building for the Wood
Elf over something Cuthenin could not even be aware of nor have
initiated. He turned to her beseechingly.

"Ai Valar. What is wrong with me, Fileg'lîr?"

"Nothing, Gûrraw," Arwen rose and went to him, enclosing the
imposing figure in a close embrace. "You are seeing things more
clearly, perhaps, and I do not think that is a bad thing."

"Tell me what to do. Should I decline to aid him?" He remained stiff
and unyielding in her arms.

"If not you, then who will? You must do something truly brave, gwador.
You must help him and expect nothing in return."

"Do you really find me of such low morals, to advise me thus?"
Glorfindel broke from her hold and moved away, gazing out the window
toward the gardens.

"Nay, Glorfindel, that is not true. I simply care for you, flaws and
all, and find you a worthy friend. I wish for you to find happiness as
I have found it. You do not need to punish yourself for being unable to
love Erestor. Neither is it healthy to punish someone else to feel
loved. It is time to break free of your dependence on the twisted
connection to my kinsman. You are the only one who can truly turn away
from it and root it out.

"You have been given a second life and there is no reason to make it a
copy of the first. There is no doom that decrees you must fail in
Legolas' trust; that is something in your own power to determine. Your
actions arise within your own mind and being; the responsibility for
them thus will fall upon your shoulders. It is not enough to bemoan the
consequences and regret the harm these generate for others, blaming the
circumstances of our times and the growing strength of the Shadow. Have
courage, Gûrraw, and fight this battle for the winning of it will
bring you great joy."   

Glorfindel turned from the window and looked upon her. Never had Arwen
failed to see his inner heart and this day was no exception. It was
suddenly obvious to him that she had counselled him in similar vein
before, pointing him toward a new path while he stubbornly trod upon
the old, familiar one. Twisted indeed! He exhaled a
short, disgusted breath and lowered his head. Perhaps he might have
said more then but  soft knocking on the front door disrupted
their meeting. Before he could move to answer, Arwen went to greet the
guest.

Now it was difficult to say who was more surprised by the encounter,
Legolas or the Evenstar, as she pulled back the wooden barrier and
found him there upon the porch, bow in his hand and a terribly lost
expression on his fair features. She smiled and he gawked for a couple
of seconds before finding his tongue.

"Suilad, my Lady, and forgive my intrusion. I hoped to find Glorfindel
at home but did not know he had company. Please tell him I shall return
at a later time," said Legolas and bowed, taking a step back as he did
so.

"Nay, mellon, I am on my way out, as you see," Arwen stood aside and
motioned the silvan forward, giving him a rather thorough evaluation as
she did. Her smile softened at the sight of the rosy hue collecting at
the points of his ears and the nervous uplift of his lips as he stepped
past her. Yet her merriment vanished almost at once, for he was close
enough then for her to see the tremors running over his body, though he
sought to hide this by a twitchy sort of fiddling with his bow

Arwen met Glorfindel's eyes over the archer's shoulder. "Light the fire
and make tea," she ordered as she linked her arm through the Wood Elf's
and guided him to the sofa. "You are Legolas? I am Arwen.
Aragorn told me all about that fight with Ithil'wath. He spoke most
highly of your skill."

"Mae govannen, Lady Arwen," Cuthenin said, too stunned by her brisk,
impromptu introduction to do anything but let her sit him down upon the
cushions. He watched as Glorfindel laid in the fuel and then let his
eyes follow the Evenstar until she left the room through a small arched
portal.

In no time she strode purposefully back carrying a soft woollen
blanket. This she draped over Legolas' shoulders and tucked it all
around him, fussing a bit as she made him give up the bow. 
Setting that upon a low table, upon which she sat, Arwen took one of
his hands in hers and rubbed it diligently, for his fingers were so
cold it made hers tingle and burn in sympathy.

"We must warm you, Legolas, for you are chilled as though it is the
deep of winter. Give me your other hand now," she coaxed gently for the
young elf tried to pull back from her.

"Le hanteän," he said, embarrassed and not at all sure it was
proper to allow her to touch him thus, considering her much above him
in nobility and station. Still, he could not deny that he
was warmer nor object to the tenderness in her gaze. Only Calarlim had
ever coddled him so.

No sooner than the thought entered his mind than the memory brought a
despairing gasp from
him as a deep stab of pain assailed his heart. He jerked in her grasp,
pulling away and wrapping his hands up in the blanket, drawing his legs
under him as he retreated into the corner of the seat.

"Ai!" the fair Lady exclaimed as she sprang up, looking anxiously to
Glorfindel as he rushed from the new fire to the Wood Elf's side. "I
shall go summon Ada."

"Wait!" Legolas pleaded ere she left, "There is no need to trouble your
father, yet if you would ask Galdor to come here I would be grateful."

"Send both, Fileg'lîr," intoned Glorfindel as he sat gingerly
beside Cuthenin, concern etched upon his features as he tentatively
reached for the messenger, laying his hand carefully upon the
shuddering shoulder.

Arwen nodded and sent the Wood Elf a warm smile, though it was tinged
with worry and sorrow, for thus had her mother been before leaving for
Aman. She transferred determined grey eyes to Glorfindel's. "I will do
so. Sen anno órëlya, Glorfindel; se avhehto!" (Give him
your heart, Glorfindel; do not abandon him!) she said gravely in Quenya
and hastened from the house, thinking the silvan's wide-eyed startle
was due to another attack of grief.

There was an awkward period of time during which neither Legolas nor
Glorfindel could muster the courage to look each other in the eye, but
then the Vanya sighed and squeezed the silvan's shaking shoulder.

"We spoke of you; she is my dearest friend and closer than a sister. I
trust her judgement and asked her advice on how to proceed," he said
firmly, watching closely to see what reaction this revelation produced.

"You asked her if you should give me your heart?" Legolas tried out
this idea cautiously, flitting a glance into the warrior's eyes to see
what might be revealed there. The expression was not decipherable to
him, however, and so he waited to hear what answer Glorfindel would
give.

"In a way. I had just concluded my meeting with Erestor and told her of
it. Arwen advised me to truly put the feelings we had for one another
in my previous life, where they belong."

"Would Erestor be satisfied with that decision?"

"It was his to make and he has done so. I have been nurturing a deeply
buried kernel of guilt and anger for a very long time. Guilty because I
could not make my heart love him, even in Gondolin when we were bound
as one. Angry over his insistence that I must do so or suffer
humiliation and degradation at his pleasure. We were not gentle lovers
and…"

"Ai! I am sure this is not for me to hear!" interrupted Legolas, eyes
squeezed tight and his body quite rigid under Glorfindel's hand. "Saes,
say no more for such does not concern me. I only wish to know I am not
the cause for any heartache for the Chief Advisor, for I would wish no
one to feel the kind of pain revealed in his eyes."

Glorfindel understood at once Arwen's caution not to burden Cuthenin
with this past experience of doomed love. Truly he looked as if he had
just been struck a severe blow and his breath came and left in great
heaves as he fought to retain composure.

"I am sorry. Be assured; you are not at fault in any way. It is wrong
that you were caught in the midst of this tempest and I am the one who
placed you there. I shall not speak of it anymore except to say that
Erestor has granted his forgiveness to me, as have I to him." The words
were as an incantation so immediate was the soothing result, for
Legolas relaxed and leaned limply back into the cushions. Glorfindel
smiled, though he knew Cuthenin could not tell as his eyes were still
shut, and massaged the archer's shoulder.

"Let me get that tea, for you are still cold." He rose from the sofa
and returned to the fire where a copper kettle hung amid the cheery
flames from a hook set within the brick and mortar. As he poured the
hot water into an earthen ware mug a loud rapping resounded from the
door. "Minno!" (Enter!) he called but Galdor had already thrown open
the portal and charged inside, Elrond right behind him.

Legolas opened his eyes a slit to see what all the commotion was about
and found himself peering into the concerned countenances of the two
ancient Noldorin nobles in addition to Glorfindel's. Galdor had
summarily usurped the Balrog Slayer's spot on the sofa as Elrond took
Arwen's former seat on the table. Both leaned forward in order to
scrutinise the suffering silvan. Cuthenin groaned, turning his face
away and sealing his lids together again.

"Ai Valar does everyone know of this illness?" he complained wearily.
"Hiren Adar must not learn of it through his spies."

The elder elves exchanged bemused glances between them and then Elrond
reached out and took the young warrior by the chin, turning his face to
make him look at them. "Thranduil has spies in my court, does he?" he
intoned with properly dramatic displeasure, yet when the Wood Elf's
blue irises were again revealed, quite fully at that, Elrond was
smiling mischievously and could not suppress a laugh.

"Nay do not be worried; you have not betrayed your people," reassured
Galdor as he tried hard to suppress his chuckling, for Legolas was
overwrought and unlikely to be certain the Peredhel Lord was jesting.
He pulled his ward into his arms and rubbed the trembling arms strongly
to promote increased circulation.

"Indeed, pen neth, (young one) I know your King has informants here and
even who they are. Rest assured he is probably cognisant of this as
well. He knows I know, as it were," joked Elrond, hoping to prompt at
least a smile from the youth.

"Aye, he knows we know he knows that we know about the spies in Lorien
and Mithlond as well. We assume he has them in Dale and Rohan, though
we cannot confirm that. Yet." added Glorfindel. He held out the mug of
tea and was pleased when Legolas sat forward and reached for it.
"Carefully; it is very hot."

Legolas blew across the steaming fluid as he gazed from one to the
other of the three elder's faces and wisely kept quiet about
Thranduil's interest in mortal realms. He took a small sip and smiled
at Glorfindel in thanks. If he was surprised when the trio of noble
Lords released relieved sighs, he pretended otherwise.

"Now then, what is to be done about this, Legolas?" queried Elrond
kindly.

"The spies?" quipped the Wood Elf with a wry grin and enjoyed their
appreciative guffaws. "Mithrandir has asked me to join the quest to
unmake the Ring. Dearly do I wish to do so for by such I may remove the
shame my earlier failures brought upon my King's domain and our
peoples' honour. Yet I must speak with Galdor privately for a time, if
I may ask it, before I can commit my bow to this great undertaking."

"Do not be disturbed to speak openly, Cuthenin, for I have explained
the necessity of Úcaul Annaur to both Elrond and Glorfindel. It
was unavoidable and I trust them both implicitly never to reveal
anything of the nature of this sacred ceremony." Galdor interjected.

"Sui pedich, Sadron," Legolas said softly, shocked to learn this, and
dipped his head in sign of his acquiescence. "I…have a question about
the role of Faer Hebron." He hesitated and sent a swift glance toward
Glorfindel and then back to Galdor.

"Go on; I will answer plainly," encouraged the Lord of the Tree.

"What will happen if we do this and then after Faras-uin-Ind we
cannot…are not able to…love one another," he stammered through the
question as delicately as he could, feeling his face grow warm even
though his teeth were practically chattering.

"Worry no more, Cuthenin. You will not be forced to consummate this
union if your hearts are unwilling. The connection between you will
slowly diminish and both shall remain unfettered to seek a true
soul-bond," Galdor said.

He did not add that he had never known of a Faer Hebron failing to
consummate the union, whether or not Úcaul Annaur was conducted,
and usually before the traditional year of engagement concluded, for
the desire to replicate the closeness of the soul-union was intense.
Claiming someone as Faer Hebron was essentially a betrothal marking the
onset of formal courtship between two elves already in love. Under less
drastic conditions, the ceremony involved a mutual spiritual exchange
between the couple but not a complete harbouring of one spirit within
the other's body, as required for Úcaul Annaur.

"And if we should consummate the bond?" the silvan appended.

"Then you shall be bound as one in all ways, body and soul, heart and
mind," answered the Sadron.

In perfect synchrony, Legolas', Galdor's, and Elrond's eyes fell upon
Glorfindel.

"I…what? I understand this condition and shall abide by it," he snapped
irritably as he looked from one to the other in exasperation.
Nonetheless, he could not deny the disappointment this stricture
against relieving the virginal youth of chastity caused him.

Legolas took a breath and sat straighter, though he gathered the
blanket tightly as he did so, and faced Galdor. "I need to speak
privately with Glorfindel, Tirn'wador, if you will permit it."

"I do," nodded Galdor and rose from the settee, motioning for Elrond
to join him as he took his leave. "We shall be out in the garden until
you call for us."

Once the door closed Glorfindel returned to his spot on the sofa but
just as he sat Legolas arose, setting down the tea to drag a cushion
along, and settled on the floor close to the fire, legs crossed beneath
him. He smiled up at the Vanya warrior and reached for the warm mug,
wrapping his frigid fingers around it gratefully. "I have never been so
cold," he said for lack of any idea as to how to start this
conversation.

Glorfindel nodded, gathering up another cushion and joining the Wood
Elf in front of the hearth. He reached for the blanket, which was
slipping away from Legolas' shoulders, and wrapped it more securely
around the shivering elf. "Best to keep covered up." He did not know if
he was supposed to encourage Legolas' questions or wait for the silvan
to broach them.

A short silence ensued.

Finally Legolas gathered his courage, for there was no easy way to gain
the knowledge he required. "I need to know why you have agreed to do
this," he began. "I am a stranger to you."

"Everyone starts that way; I see no reason for that to be an obstacle.
It may not be common for two who have just met to undergo so serious a
ritual, yet the conditions are extreme. We do not have the luxury of
time needed to become better acquainted. It is necessary to ease the
suffering you endure."

"So it is a sort of pity or…or a sence of duty?" Legolas' eyes fairly
blazed with indignation
and he half rose before Glorfindel caught him and pulled him back down.

"Nay it is not!" insisted Glorfindel. He grimaced in vexation; sorting
out his emotions was never a skill in which he excelled, in either
life-time. Speaking of them coherently was well nie an impossibility.
"I am selfish, I suppose. Arwen has said so often enough. I want the
luxury of time and without this ceremony I shall be denied it. Do I not
have the right to seek happiness as any other elf may wish?"

"I never meant to say you did not," declaimed Legolas, confused by the
vehemence in Glorfindel's voice.

"Mayhap I would find that with you," the noble warrior continued more
calmly. "If you are not healed of this grief, I shall never know. At
least not for long years, unless Námo would be merciful to me
and to thee. I would rather not depend upon such a rarity."

"Then you do want a life-mate?" Cuthenin failed to suppress his eager
excitement.

"I do wish it. And what of your motives, Cuthenin? Why me and not
another elf here, one of the twins perhaps," Glorfindel was just as
curious, and if he could admit it, which he could not, just as insecure.

"Nay, although Elladan and Elrohir remind me of my brothers I do not
think it is possible to split my feä between the two. With them no
soul-union would be possible for they are soul-bound to one another."

"How do you know that? You have met us all at the same time. Did they
confide in you? Are they lovers?" Glorfindel's eyes were sparkling with
delight over such intriguing gossip and bent close as he dropped his
voice to preserve the clandestine nature of such a revelation.

"What?" Legolas was appalled at this suggestion. "Nay, they did not
tell me any such thing! Valar!" He eyed Glorfindel with something akin
to disgust as the Balrog Slayer gave a shame-faced shrug.

The pair were silent for a time, ruminating on the notion of the sons
of Elrond involved in an illicit relationship.

"I can see how it might be, though," said Legolas cautiously. "They
have been together always, even before birth."

"Aye, and you did say they are soul-bound. That is half of the
ingredients right there."

"They are certainly comely. Exceptional examples of the male physique."

"Yes they…oh you think that?" Glorfindel was a bit crestfallen to hear
this.

"You think it, too." Legolas countered and again received that
embarrassed flex of the shoulders in answer.

"True, they are fair, yet none would proclaim them as wondrous to look
upon as you," came the gallant rejoinder and Glorfindel was rewarded
with a flash of the archer's breath-taking smile.

"I agree. The sons of Elrond are fine to behold and noble in bearing
and character but I feel for them as I do my brothers. I do not
understand what it is, but I am drawn to you, Glorfindel," Legolas
could not stop his eyes from roving over the enticing form and face
beside him.

Glorfindel shared a smile nearly as brightly shining with joy as
Cuthenin's, until the words registered completely. "Wait, did you say
you know not what it is? Ai, drawn to me with no comprehension of why
that would be? You are a cruel one, Wood Elf!"

Legolas was laughing and Glorfindel was amazed to hear it, for he had
only done so once before and it was still a novel sound. It made him
feel very pleased to have brought the spark of mirth back into the
messenger's sombre eyes, even if he had to do so at the expense of his
ego.

"Nay, I was but teasing you. I comprehend well what calls my soul to
yours. Indeed, I find you appealing and alluring, that is no lie. That
is only part of it, though. When we met you knew nothing about me and
still you stood beside me against your own troops. I had my weapon
drawn upon one of your warriors, ready to strike, and you did not
permit the archers to fire. I could have been disarmed and taken
prisoner easily, for I was but one. Only my mother has ever showed me
such devotion, and I admit it stunned me. It still does.

"And I believe it is the will of Tawar for us to bond.  How else
can it be that someone uninitiated in Pâd-en-Tawar would sense
the desperation of my circumstances and propose Úcaul Annar? It
is no accident that you are here just at the time when I need someone.
You have consoled and encouraged me, strengthened my spirit and
restored my will. Glorfindel, you have had my spirit in your
safekeeping from the moment we met. All we shall do now serves to
sanctify that which is already ordained by Tawar."

Legolas' voice had dropped lower and lower as he explained himself and
consequently Glorfindel leaned closer and closer in order to hear him.
Cuthenin's words stirred him deeply and the Vanya fully intended to
steal a kiss from those eloquent and flagrantly sensual lips but a loud
knock on the door ruined his plan. He met Cuthenin's eyes
apologetically and rose to usher in the two Noldor Lords only to find
them already inside gazing upon him with a mixture of tolerant
amusement and stern warning.

&/&

Pale was the light of the moon, a slim and meagre gleam spilling from
Tilion's slender silver sickle. Little of its faint illumination
reached the  surface of Arda and less still brightened the space
beneath the mighty oaks in the shaded dell. The soft cool emission from
the smouldering powder had long since been dispersed by the natural
circulation of night chilled air descending from the heavens. If not
for the hazy glow surrounding the burning coals in the small, raised
grate, the elves within its centre would have been barely discernible.

They remained together, two entwined in each other's embrace upon a
large blanket spread over the cushioning of decades upon decades of
fallen leaves, the other standing a little apart, looking upwards and
singing quietly a soothing hymn of peace and joy.

Glorfindel sighed and his breath breezed through the silvan's hair,
disturbing a few strands that drifted down across the flawless cheek.
He smoothed them away, gazing down upon the archer's face, watching the
shifting light in Cuthenin's eyes as the day's earlier events replayed
through the dreamscapes of elven reverie. The Vanya was amazed to find
himself completely aware of everything Legolas envisioned and observed
that the scenes contained details the Wood Elf had not witnessed
personally. His only conclusion was that their unique intermingling of
feär had permitted the messenger access to the Balrog Slayer's
experiences as well. Glorfindel smiled, knowing now how deeply
disappointed Legolas had been when their first kiss was forestalled.

A subtle shift in position made it possible to peer surepticiously in
Galdor's direction to determine what the elder Lord was doing.
Glorfindel allowed himself the slightest smirk; the Sadron was engaged
in one of his religious chanting meditations, staring into the starry
heavens as he sang, arms spread open before him,  completely
oblivious to the surroundings. The re-born warrior returned attention
to his fair companion and slowly propped his body up on his elbow in
order to have a more encompassing vantage from which to appreciate the
half-clad body pressed so close to his.

He grinned as Legolas' fingers tightened where they were entangled in
his hair as though to prevent the Vanya from going too far. Glorfindel
shimmied minutely closer so that he partially covered the slender
silvan torso and immediately Legolas exhaled a soft sigh and relaxed.
The Balrog Slayer relished the warmth between them where bare skin lay
flush upon bare skin. He could feel the beat of Cuthenin's heart and
sense the contentment their contact gave the slumbering warrior as
well.
His free hand was resting lightly on Legolas' hip and he removed it to
delicately drift his fingers over the flat expanse of the
archer's belly. The body twitched slightly under his touch and
Glorfindel pressed his palm fully over the navel, soothing the
tenseness away in a calm, circular caress.    

A quick inspection of the hazy, dilated pupils in the semi-shuttered
eyes revealed the silvan remained as much entangled in memory as in his
Faer Hebron's limbs. It was no wonder he slept so deeply, for the hours
following the conclusion of Úcaul Annar had been almost frenzied
in their intensity. Legolas had been nearly euphoric for hours,
jubilantly singing of his happiness over Calarlim's reassurance that
she was well and at peace in Mandos, teaching Glorfindel the words to
some of the hymns so that he might join in. Cuthenin regaled the Vanya
with many anecdotes indicative of Calarlim's wisdom and playful sense
of humour, crying sometimes over the bittersweet memories of his
mother's loving care. During these releases of sorrow the Wood Elf
clung to Glorfindel, no longer shy at all about the physical proximity
but rather requiring the comfort such close contact gave.

Then a period of frantic physical agitation had set in such that
Legolas paced around the dell impatiently and was soon climbing in the
oaks, encouraging Glorfindel to follow him as he leaped from tree to
tree. Galdor had not participated in this phase of the strange
activity, merely watching with serious eyes the whole time. The branch
chasing ended when Glorfindel missed his footing and nearly fell,
finding himself instantly in the tight protective clasp of the archer
as he was pulled up to a more secure position. They returned to the
ground and collected around the small brazier which still emitted heat
and light and Galdor passed around wine and fruit to stave off hunger
until the odd state of elevated emotion subsided.

Cuthenin had become more sober as he ate, speaking of his other
comrades as he did so, telling of their personalities, their courage
and strength, their families. Legolas had gone into great detail in
planning out how he would become involved in the welfare of some of the
younger descendants of the two brothers, for each was bonded and had
seen many generations of progeny. He revealed a determined hope that
not all would sail to Aman to counter their grief and that none would
fade because of it. Finally fatigue enveloped them both and Glorfindel
was somewhat suspicious of what might have been added to the wine but
was too weary to question Galdor. Gratefully he had settled upon the
blanket with Legolas in his arms and both had been deeply asleep almost
instantly.

Since he was not the one on the brink of fading,
Glorfindel had been less affected by the dramatic events than the
silvan and had awakened first. Now there was perhaps an hour before
dawn and soon they must rejoin the rest of the population, learning how
the soul-bond between them might alter their daily routines. The Vanya
warrior realised he would probably not have Legolas beside him, half
naked and compliantly cuddled near his heart, when next the archer
sought reverie. Before their imminent parting he wished to indulge his
desire if only in a limited fashion.

Satisfied that Legolas still dreamt, Glorfindel permitted his eyes a
lengthy ogling, memorising every detail of the exposed flesh from a
very small brown mole above the right clavicle to the intricate beauty
of the heart spiral. He noted with satisfaction that the scars on the
silvan's shoulder and side were less vibrant a red as the healing
continued. With the threat of grieving sickness removed, these would be
hardly detectable in a few weeks' passing.

He craned his neck to view
the line of round burns along the left side, frowning at how angry and
red the marks still looked. For that matter, his brand also stung and
throbbed uncomfortably every time he moved. The wounds were not deep
and
he would have expected the skin to heal up after this number of hours.
He was just thinking that he must ask Galdor about it when Legolas
shifted a little, drawing his leg up as he turned slightly toward
Glorfindel's chest, and nudged the Vanya's crotch with the bent knee.

Startled, Glorfindel barely bit back a moan at the pleasing contact and
repositioned his body to enhance the feeling. He stared into Legolas'
eyes to see if he was waking but no indication of the archer's sharp
focus could he see. With a soft smile he bent slowly and pressed a
light kiss upon the parted lips, just touching the tip of his tongue to
the silvan's lower lip. He could feel Cuthenin's pulse increase in
tempo and a light shiver ran over the supple body. Glorfindel drew back
to survey the effect and his eye was once more drawn to the intricate
whorls inked around the pert peak of the archer's left nipple. The
Vanya could not resist the impulse to trace the spiral from its outer
edge in toward the dark protrusion, watching in rapt fascination as the
little node puckered and uplifted as his finger approached.

It was too much temptation, and since any touch must break the spell
and wake his companion, Glorfindel, ever bold, leaned over and tasted
the tantalising bud of sensitive tissue, lapping his tongue across it.
The result was both gratifying and painful, for Legolas gasped loudly
and arched his back, pressing into the contact. Glorfindel smiled as he
repeated the caress, sucking softly and then closing his teeth gently
over the nipple. It was then that discomfort joined the catalogue of
sensations, for a loud thud accompanied a sharp jolt of agony across
his shoulders. As a result, Glorfindel bit down much too hard into
Cuthenin's tender flesh and this elicited a yelp of anguish.

At the same time, Glorfindel was summarily yanked by the hair off the
Wood Elf's prone body by Galdor, a stout tree branch clutched in the
Sadron's other hand. He glared at the Vanya and shoved him roughly back
before turning to Legolas, to whom he sent a very disapproving and
disappointed look.

Legolas scrambled up to his feet, one hand covering the bite mark and
before he entirely regained his senses the other descended to his groin
in an attempt to adjust the bunched fabric that was suddenly very tight
indeed. The next instant he realised what he was doing and flushed in
embarrassment, clasping both hands behind him and fixing his gaze upon
the leaf strewn blanket with intense concentration.

"Honestly, Glorfindel, this is not indicative of a trustworthy
character," the ancient Sadron snapped, tossing the limb aside.

"I shall attempt, in future, to be more respectful of the unique
privilege of safe-guarding Cuthenin's spirit, Galdor," he said and
bowed his head. Glorfindel did not, however, apologise for his
transgression.

"And I think you are too skilled in playing o'possum for your own good,
pen neth." Those words were directed to Cuthenin of course who could
not hide a somewhat self-conscious giggle as he continued to examine
the ground under his nervously shifting feet.

"Now then, since we are all awake and dawn is nearly here anyway, we
shall make ready to break fast," he continued. "Legolas, go retrieve
what you require for bathing. I know a secluded cove in the river's
course where the sun almost never warms the water and thus by this time
of the year it is already frigid."

"Sui pedich, Tirn'wador," Cuthenin's obedient reply was followed by his
immediate ascent to the talan. He hastily gathered what he would need
in the basket and dropped that down before clambering after it. He shot
Glorfindel a glance, curious to see how his Faer Hebron fared, and was
rewarded with a reassuring smile. Legolas' answering grin brightened
the glade as if Anor had already arisen, and he practically danced
after his Guardian's retreating form.

TBC


Review replies: ff.net


Gemini969: Thank you again! So glad you are still enjoying it.


Anarien: This is so kind of you to do and I cannot thank you enough! Reviews such as this are rare and precious, not just because you placed me among the best of the best but because of the thoughtful feedback on all the things going on with the religious aspects. And the points you made about Glorfindel and his difficulty reining in his urges is definitely an important aspect of this story, too. I hope I can cover everything satisfactorily before the end! Thank you again very very much.


rivergirl: How can I thank you adequately for so many generous words? You have placed me among my own idols! I am glad you feel sorry for Erestor for I felt since the first notion of this story began that he was going to be the one to suffer most. It does seem unfair for Glorfindel to end up with Legolas and Erestor to remain alone with a broken heart after all this time. And he tried to do things right the second time; it was just too late by then. However, I doubt he could ever have made Glorfindel fall in love with him. Thank you again!


aff.net:


SilentOne: Thank you for those great compliments on the imagery, means I am doing something right. I do not know how to fix things for poor Erestor, though of course he is not blameless by any means. I think maybe he will need some help in the days ahead and being around Glorfindel is going to be difficult. This little chapter is just a sort of clearing the palate-i need to shift gears a bit now that the whole grieving thing is done there are other matters to deal with.


TopKatz: It means do much to hear the ritual came across well; thank you. I wrote it so many times and was worried about crossing the line on the description of the branding. Yes I agree two such strong personalities cannot change overnight and as noted in this chapter it will be a great struggle for Glorfindel to overcome his ingrained pattern of behaviour. When Legolas leaves on the quest, he will have much to occupy his mind and body, but Glorfindel will still be in Imladris with Erestor. He has resisted thus far; hopefully he will continue to do so. This chapter is some of what I kept from the previous one; a means to change direction and set out to settle the remaining questions.


wren: Thank you very much! Of course I love reviews like this!


yanic: Thank you and I am happy it was not too gross or graphic with the branding part. The idea for possession comes from what I know of some religious practices associated with Vodun, a very ancient naturalistic religion that originated in the region of Africa now called Benin (and regions nearby too). I crossed that with Tolkien's ideas about unhoused souls and that not all of them ended up in Mandos. According to him, a soul could ignore the call of Námo if it chose to and that this led to dangerous consequences and sometimes a darkening of the spirit. Yes, I agree it would have been awful for Glorfindel do that to Legolas!


Daphne: Happy New Year! I have driven through AZ but have never been to ME, even though I lived in upstate NY for a while. I cannot imagine the winters there but I have always heard ME is beautiful. Thank you for the compliment and I am updating with this 'breather' chapter so I can get myself together for the next phase.


Tinni: Thank you for that terrific endorsement! I am pretty caught up in that angle and am glad it is working to make the story interesting.


Kimmi: Thank you so much! I am sorry if I am not being clear sometimes. Let me know what was confusing and I will try to sort it out and make it understandable. I appreciate you being honest and letting me know; it is hard for me to see it from the readers' perspective sometimes.


Jenni: Thank you so much for this review! May I say it had me strutting around doing the victory march just a bit! That is exactly what I was hoping would come across: we have only been allowed to see Glorfindel as Legolas is seeing him: the stereotypical legendary hero. I am so hoping the readers will come to gradual appreciation of his personality just as Legolas will. Perhaps that is why this mess with Erestor is so upsetting to Cuthenin: it does not fit the picture he has constructed in his mind. Now we shall see if Legolas can look beyond that, and beyond the legend, and find qualities about Glorfindel that he would appreciate no matter his name and history. Galdor is indeed worried, as we see in this chapter he will try to keep Legolas from becoming involved in a loveless bond such as Glorfindel had with Erestor. He treads a delicate line, for initially Legolas needs close contact with his Faer Hebron, as shall be explained soon, yet he must not allow Cuthenin to be swept up in the height of his passionate longing either, giving in to Glorfindel before the pair have had a chance to find out if it is more than physical. I am trying hard to find a way to heal Erestor, too!


Lisagems: Thank you for those terrific compliments! So glad you are enjoying it.


And as always my thanks to all the readers out there!