Road to Redemption

Redemption (33-34/50)

Author: Gwaelinn
Beta: Patricia Pleasant aka slayer9649
Type: FPS
Pairings: Lindir/Maglor, Erestor/Maedhros Elladan/Rumil and others
Rating: NC-17-R overall
Warnings: Slash (m/m),
Time line: AU (not really connected to the actual timeline of the books)
Disclaimer: All characters and locations are the sole property of Professor Tolkien’s Estate. This is written only for pleasure and not for profit.
Author notes: The little plot bunny popped up while listening to Loreena McKennit’s The Old Ways. Somehow, the song just screamed ‘Maglor’.


CHAPTER 33

A/N: Takes place at the same time as last chapter…

Erestor signed the scroll, sanded it and rolled it up. Stretching his weary arms over his head, he decided to take a short walk. Though it would seem early to most, the chief advisor had been up since before dawn trying to complete the necessary papers before the delegation arrived. He stood and exited out the balcony door; he was, after all, sneaking out.

As it happened, his aimless walking soon took him near the forge. Perhaps he would stop in and see how Maedhros was fairing; he had not really spoken to the reborn-elf since he started working again. Carefully he walked down the sloping path towards the sound of metal on metal. The forge was located in a field, near the river. This location was the safest, should there be an ‘accident’. Coming out of the tree line, Erestor saw the master smith.

“Good morning, mellon nín,” the smith greeted him.

“And to you,” Erestor responded. “How fairs the new help?”

The smith smiled. “Go have a look for yourself.”

The dark haired elf walked around the structure and stopped in his tracks. Before him was the most erotic sight he had ever seen. Maedhros stood shirtless near the forge. His mahogany mane was braided in a single plait, reaching mid back. There was a sheen of sweat covering rippling muscles. Erestor gasped as he saw the powerful arm lift the hammer, bringing it down on the red-hot iron. The resulting sparks gave Maedhros an unearthly glow. Erestor felt heat rush through his body and it was not due to the forge’s fires. At the moment, Erestor was lost in a dream where he was running his hands over those strong muscles; gently washing away the day’s grime. He imagined what it would feel like to be enveloped in those arms while making love. The Noldo wondered what kind of lover Maedhros was. Was it all power and dominance, or was he a gentle lover? When Maedhros approached him, the red haired elf wondered about the soft smile on the advisor’s face. It made him look surreal.

“Good day, Counselor.”

“Umm...oh, good day. I was…uhh…well that is…so how is it going?” Erestor never stumbled over words and he did not like the helpless feeling it gave him.

Maedhros smiled, wiped his face and neck on a rag and replied, “It goes very well I think. I can never thank you enough for this. It feels so natural; I do not even miss my weapons. Come, see what I am working on.”

Erestor mutely followed the proud smith to his anvil. What the advisor saw astounded him. Before him lay a beautifully wrought iron gate. The intricate detail was remarkable. Erestor would think only a silversmith could create something so delicate. The scrollwork was made to look like vines and trumpet flowers.

“It is beautiful,” he breathed. “I have never seen iron worked like this.”

The tall elf smiled at the compliment. If his face was not flushed from the heat, Erestor would have seen a blush stain Maedhros’ cheeks. He was glad the dark haired elf liked it. Un-beknown to the advisor, the gate was commissioned by Lord Elrond to replace the gate on Erestor’s balcony, damaged by an ice storm last winter. When the order came in, Maedhros asked the master smith to allow him to make it, as a sort of “thank you” to Erestor for all he had done.

“You really like it?” Maedhros asked. Erestor ran a hand over a cooled corner. Cinnamon colored eyes watched the gentle touch. Soon Maedhros found himself shifting, trying to find a more comfortable stance; his leggings had grown tight with thoughts of those delicate fingers caressing his body like that. He was very happy that he wore a heavy apron, thus hiding his desire.

Erestor looked up. He wanted to kiss Maedhros so much and involuntarily stepped forward. Maedhros took that as a sign and bent down to kiss the advisor. Erestor rested his hands against the former-warrior’s pectoral muscles, accidentally brushing a nipple.


Maedhros ended the kiss quickly and stepped back. “I am filthy. It would not do to get your robes full of suet.”

Elrond’s chief advisor found himself lost for words again; it was getting to be a bit unsettling, really.

“Perhaps we could meet for a walk after supper?”

Erestor was, again, reduced to simply nodding. The tall elf chuckled. “Alright, I will see you at supper. I had best get back to work.” Erestor nodded yet again and watched the vision before him return to the heat of the fires. After watching, with admiration, the hammer come down a couple of times, Erestor tore himself away and walked back to the Last Homely House in a daze.


“He is a beautiful elf is he not?” The master smith approached Maedhros. “You will be the envy of many if you have managed to capture his interest.”

Maedhros placed a rod of iron back into the flame. “Why is that?”

The smith smiled. “I have known Erestor since we were children. I have seen many suitors scramble away after one of his glances. Many have tried to bed him, but as far as I know, he is still untouched.”

Maedhros’ eyebrow reached for his hairline. “Why would you share something like that with me?”

“Because I would like to see him with someone of worth…and I do not mean in the tangible sense. Most want to bed him because he is beautiful or in the hopes of swaying his opinion. I want his first experience to be special…so I thought you should know.” With that, the smith turned back to the fires. Maedhros took what he learned to heart. He would make certain that Erestor was courted right, if the advisor would have him, that is.

*********

Glorfindel pushed away from the breakfast table. Looking at the silver-haired elf across from him, he smiled. “What do you say to a ride this afternoon?”

Orophin looked up. “Alright. Where will we go?”

“Well, it will not really be a pleasure ride…I mean it is always a pleasure to spend time with you. However, Elrond wants me to meet the Mirkwood delegation before they reach the main gates. Since I would rather spend the afternoon with you, I thought maybe you would come with me. That way I can do what I like and still comply with my lord’s wishes.”

The Lórien archer leaned back and smirked. “Well, since you put it that way. I will meet you at the stables just after the noon bell.”

“I have a better idea. I will meet you after your training session and we will take an afternoon meal with us. I know the perfect spot to stop for lunch.”

“I am agreeable to that…since I have no other plans.” Orophin soon found a napkin hitting his face. He laughed as the golden warrior left the table. Looking around, he decided to get ready for training. He had to focus on his job this morning. Thoughts of this afternoon would have to wait.

********

“I fear the delegation has met with some trouble.” Elrohir said as they raced away.

The sun was just peeking over the surrounding mountaintops. If Elrohir was correct and it was the Mirkwood party, they must have traveled through the night. Tired elves were no match for a band of orcs. The two warriors trail-blazed toward their destination; after all, the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. The average horse, even one from Rohan would have difficulty navigating the dense forest at a full gallop. Fortunately, elven horses, were agile and sure-footed.

Elrohir had an arrow notched before the enemy was in view; he let it loose the moment he saw the first orc. The arrow found its mark and was quickly joined by a white fletched arrow. As Elrohir and Haldir broke the tree line, they could make out the green and browns of the Mirkwood guard. They were greatly out numbered. It hardly seemed likely that two more warriors would make a difference. The element of surprise is a powerful ally. The newcomers took down half a dozen orc before their presence was known.

Drawing close, Haldir slid off his horse and bolted into the fray. Elrohir spotted Legolas injured and struggling with two massive orcs. Galloping forward, he launched himself at one of the orcs, tackling him to the ground. Haldir tried to keep an eye on the younger twin and the prince of Mirkwood, but soon had to devote all his attention to his own battle. Orcs seemed to spring out of the very ground. The Silvan captain began to despair. They were just outside the border. The nearest outpost was about 2 miles back. He always knew that if he died, it would be in battle. However, he had hoped to get to know Elrohir a bit better…all right, a lot better before his voyage into Mandos. Six Mirkwood elves lay motionless and several others were fighting with obvious injuries. Still, they did their best to protect their prince.

Elrohir never thought his tactic through. All he knew was that he had to get to Legolas fast. Throwing one’s self on an orc is not a brilliant strategy, but it was successful…for the most part. He did not even feel the sharp pain in his side at the time. Back to back, he fought with the blond prince. He noticed that Haldir was in a similar defensive position with the Mirkwood captain. Elrohir found himself wishing he had kissed Haldir. 'Well, nothing to do about that now, or later,’ he thought grimly.

*******

Glorfindel and Orophin were enjoying their picnic wrapped in each other’s arms. Food had quickly been forgotten once they began feeding one another. A bottle of wine lay on the edge of the blanket. Glorfindel pulled Orophin onto him, working his hands under the younger elf’s tunic. The silver haired elf let out the most delicious moan. Glorfindel let his legs fall open, making his desire quite clear. Orophin took the opportunity to loosen the laces on the captain’s leggings and slid his hand over the budge. Glorfindel arched his back at the contact, grasping Orophin’s tight arse with both hands and pulling him closer.

The sudden clearing of a throat caused both elves to freeze. Glorfindel peeked over and around Orophin. The younger elf grew concerned when all color drained from the great warrior’s face. Carefully rolling Orophin off him, Glorfindel stood and bowed to the stranger. The dark elf smirked. He was tall like Glorfindel and definitely a noble. That however did not stop the archer from glaring.

“Sorry to interrupt your fun, Glorfindel, but I am on important business. It would be wise if you and your…companion hastened to your destination before there is no one left to meet.”

Orophin finally found both his feet and his voice. “Who are you? Have you no decency?”

The elf held up a placating hand. “Peace, penneth. I promise you that I would not dare interrupt Glorfindel at such a moment if it could be helped. There is not time for introductions.” Turning to the Imladris captain, the stranger continued, “Ride straight, off the path. There is little time.”

Glorfindel had already mounted and looked impatiently at Orophin. The young elf did not understand what was going on, but there was a look of urgency about the ancient warrior. He had not even packed up their things. Quickly mounting, he pressed his horse to catch up to the captain.

“What was that all about?” He shouted over the pounding hooves. “What has happened.”?

“I am not sure.” Glorfindel replied, “But as Námo said, he would not interrupt us unless it was life or death.”

A stunned Orophin nearly lost his head to a low-hanging branch at the mention of the Vala. ‘Wonderful,’ he thought, ‘giving attitude to the Vala of Death. Hope I do not visit his halls in the near future.’

“I fear for the Mirkwood elves. If I understood correctly, they are in grave danger.” Conserving his breath, Glorfindel silently urged his horse to go faster.

Chapter 34


With Glorfindel and Orophin’s arrival, the tide finally turned. Glorfindel was saddened when he saw the shadow form of Námo beside the body of a Mirkwood elf. The ancient warrior knew that it was not his fault, that he could not have expected there to be an attack; yet, his heart ached with the loss of life. Orophin embraced Haldir, glad his brother, once again, escaped unscathed. The same could not be said for the prince of Mirkwood. Elrohir knelt at his side, trying to stanch the bleeding. There was a long slash across Legolas’ back and already the edges darkened from poison. Looking up, the younger twin made eye contact with his Captain; the message was clear.

“Come,” Glorfindel called out. “We must reach Elrond as soon as possible! Lay the dead across their horses and mount up.” No one thought to argue. Those injured that could ride alone, did so, leaving others to ride with the more severely wounded. Legolas was carefully hoisted up to sit in front of Glorfindel. “We ride straight through. If you must stop, make sure there is at least on able elf with you.” With that, he bolted forward.


******


Maglor dressed with little enthusiasm and he decided to skip breakfast. His stomach was in knots. Ever since Lindir and he began sharing a bed, neither ever left without waking the other, usually in the most pleasurable of ways! Maglor glanced at his reflection in the mirror as he left the room. Elves might be immortal, but he certainly did not look, or feel, as young as he once had. The queasy feeling he had upon waking got stronger. Perhaps the young elf finally saw Maglor for what he was…an *old* elf.


The Noldorian prince first stopped at Elrond’s office and then proceeded to Erestor's. Neither had seen Lindir that morning.


“I would not worry,” the advisor said, looking up from his scroll. “He is probably with the other bards, preparing for the welcoming feast. Lindir and Legolas developed a close friendship some time ago. He is probably just absent minded in his excitement.”


Maglor tried to hide the hurt in his eyes as he ducked out the door. Absent minded? How could you forget about a body next to you? The ancient elf began to think about Lindir’s relationship with the Mirkwood prince. Slowly, he made his way to the Hall of Fire. Stopping at the entrance, Maglor took a calming breath and schooled his expression. He was probably overreacting.


Lindir sat with the other minstrels, working out which songs would be done and when. When the young bard noticed Maglor, he jumped to his feet and ran to his lover. “Is it not wonderful?” he asked pulling Maglor along by the hand. “Legolas will be here in a couple of days. I cannot wait to see him. I have really missed him.” Lindir pulled Maglor down to sit beside him.


“Umm, Lindir…”


“We used to take walks after I finished in the Hall and would talk till dawn.” Here the silver haired elf actually sighed. He then turned his full attention to the music.


“I am going to see how Maedhros fairs,” the Noldo said.


“Alright.” Lindir barely acknowledged the other elf. Maglor slowly stood and exited the hall without another word. Lindir always greeted him with a kiss, even just a chaste one on the cheek. Not today, though. He did not even look up when the dark haired elf left. Maglor suddenly had a desperate need for his older brother. Slowly he walked toward the forge. He quietly sat on a stool and just watched the burgundy haired elf work. Maedhros had the same grace with a hammer and anvil as their father did. It cheered Maglor’s heart a bit to see his brother content.


“What troubles you, little brother?” the tall elf asked, setting the iron back into the flame.


“What makes you think I am troubled? Can an elf not simply visit with is own kin?”


Maedhros pumped the bellows then turned to Maglor. “I know you, penneth. Something has upset you and I am going to go out on a limb and say it is a certain little song bird.”


Maglor chuckled softly. “I never could hide anything from you.”


“I know. Who do you think detoured father when *someone* was getting his first taste of, well, adult pleasure in the shed?”


“How did you know I was, I mean that…oh Mandos…Why?”


“Because I love you and father would have skinned both of you. I did not like your choice of partner, but I did not want your first time to be overshadowed by our father’s tirade. Now, what has happened?”


“Nothing,” Maglor said simply. Maedhros pulled out the iron and began hammering it. He knew that it would take a while for the younger elf to continue. Suddenly the ebony haired elf stood. “Never mind. It really was nothing now that I think about it,” he said with false cheer. “I will see you later.” With what he hoped was a happy looking smile, he took his leave. Cinnamon colored eyes followed the retreating form. “Nothing, my arse.”


*********


Elladan and Rúmil set some stones in a circle and got a fire started. The dark haired elf divested himself of his shirt and laid it over a stone near the fire pit. He turned back to Rúmil to find the younger elf bent over, situating his bedroll. Elladan felt his heart rate increase at the sight. It took all his will power to stop his mind from wandering; he really did not want to explain a bulge in his leggings. “Here, throw me your shirt,” he called to the other elf.


Rúmil stood up and turned to reply, but found his voice had abandoned him. Before him stood the most perfect elven physique he had ever seen. Elladan’s chest was smooth and sculpted and his shoulders indicated his weapon of choice was a sword. As he absent-mindedly unlaced the top of his own shirt, Rúmil could not help but notice how low Elladan’s pants sat on his hips, showing off a rippled abdomen and narrow hips. His gaping ended as he pulled his own shirt over his head, a sudden flash of insecurity rushing through his body. The Lórien elf was built like an archer and runner…long and lean. While his muscles were defined, they lacked the mass that Elladan had. He tossed his shirt to the waiting elf and quickly turned away, busying himself with his bedroll.


Elladan looked at the other elf with much appreciation. Rúmil’s body appeared to be as beautiful as his face. The older twin knew that he could have the younger elf if he wanted, it was clear Rúmil was interested. Elladan had had his share of conquests and knew the same was true of Rúmil, however he did not want a conquest. Being able to bed anyone without a relationship was getting old fast. He wondered if Rúmil was looking for a night of passion or more.


Unable to avoid his companion, Rúmil came to the fire. He stood near the flames, soaking up the warmth they offered. He might have shed his wet shirt, but his leggings were still dripping. With anyone else, he would have removed them as well and basked in the fire’s warmth in only his loincloth. His desire for Elladan made that impossible.


As if reading his mind, the dark haired elf began to unlace his leggings. Rúmil thought it was the most erotic sight he had ever seen. “I think you will find you will warm up faster if you remove your wet leggings. By the fire, they should be dry by morning.”


Rúmil undid his leggings, never taking his eyes off Elladan’s very long and muscular legs. Elladan could not help but see the desire in the other’s eyes. He had to admit that he felt the same. He would have become hard if his extremities were not so cold. Rúmil quickly sat and stared into the fire.


“I have provisions in my pack for supper. Nothing fancy, just some smoked fish, cheese and bread. If we are lucky, cook might have added some tarts for dessert. ‘Although I know what I want for dessert’ he mentally added.


“If you check my pack,” Rúmil called over, “You will find something more tasty than water.” He looked over at the twin and smirked. Elladan pulled out two bottles of wine.


“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Elladan asked, faining concern.

“Would I have to?” The words left Rúmil’s mouth before he could stop them. He quickly looked back to the fire.


Elladan gathered the food items and returned to the fire, sitting right next to the blushing elf…so close that their shoulders brushed. Setting the food and wine to the side, the older elf answered, “No.”


Rúmil glanced to the side, perplexed, “No what?”


Elladan smiled as he moved slowly towards the waiting lips. “No, you would not have to get me drunk.” With that, he let his lips brush against Rúmil’s. The younger elf’s lips were soft and warm, quite willing to allow Elladan to deepen the kiss.


When they were in need of air, they pulled apart slightly. Looking into the dark depths of Elladan’s eyes, Rúmil lifted his hand and caressed the older elf’s cheek as he leaned in for another kiss. He would probably be in trouble when Haldir found out he made out with the Lady’s grandson. At that point in time, however, he really did not care. All he cared about was the wonderful sensation coursing through his body.


“I want you,” Elladan whispered as he nibbled Rúmil’s bottom lip. Pulling back he said seriously, “But not for only one night.”


“As many nights as you desire,” the Silvan elf answered softly.