Glorfindel Unleashed

Title : 'Glorfindel Unleashed', 7/?
Author: Eawen Penallion
Type: FPS
Beta: Beloved Nienna, so encouraging!
Disclaimer: all rights to the characters belong to JRR Tolkien - I'm only playing with them.
Rating: (R for this chapter, NC-17 overall)
Pairing: Glorfindel/Erestor in later chapters
Warnings: M/M, implied child abuse, angst, character death


Summary : When Glorfindel becomes a child's protector, he does not realise what Erestor will be to him when he reaches majority. Can love survive the trials of death and destiny?

Author's notes: AU as in it is my idea, but canon where possible with regard to LOTR history.

* The date of Glorfindel's return has been placed either just before the Fall of Númenor or around the same time as the Istari's arrival. I have chosen differently to suit my story.*


Chapter 7

T.A 149, Mid-winter

The sun shone brightly on the day Glorfindel first saw Imladris. The snow yet covered the ground, it being only weeks since the Yule celebration, but the slim green leaves of the snowdrop peeked through the white clothing of the earth to welcome of the lengthening days. The flora had been scarce on the Great East Road but now on the descent into the hidden valley of the elves the profusion increased. Glorfindel could tell that this was a magical place, the invisible wards tingled on his skin and impinged on his elven senses, which were much increased since his re-birth in the Blessed Realm. The Valar had been generous in their gifts on his release from the cool Halls of Waiting.

The golden elf shuddered in remembrance of those halls and his long sojourn there, a motion that was evident to the elves who had accompanied him from the Grey Havens. The escort had been at the insistence of Círdan for, as he had reminded him, a whole age encompassing thousands of years had passed since last he had walked on Arda. Times had changed, wars had been fought and won and lost, men had built and destroyed and had rebuilt their empires - and evil had found new forms.

Glorfindel thought back upon the instruction he had been given both in Valinor and at Círdan's behest, lessons in the history which had passed him by. Melkor had been banished from Middle Earth after the War of Wrath, imprisoned in dimensions beyond the bounds of Arda. The tiny ernil he had known in Gondolin had grown up in exile at the Mouths of the Sirion, had wed and had sired twin sons; then had led a plea to the Valar for their aid against their evil contemporary. The child was now a star in the heavens, shining his beatific light upon those he had saved by his sacrifice. An alliance of the Valar, and of the elves of Valinor and of Middle Earth in union with the kings of Men, had fought and brought down the vile walls of Angband. Sadly, one of Melkor's lieutenants had escaprom rom that war to revive his master's evil intents. Sauron, Annetar the Deceiver, had persuaded the elves of Eregion to make rings, magical and powerful, and had then stolen the rings to give to and corrupt the races of Dwarves and Men. Elves had made rings for themselves, but Celebrimbor the smith had allowed Sauron no part in their making and thus they were untouched by his machinations - and were not influenced by the One Ring, the controlling ring Sauron had forged in the fires of Mount Orodruin.

Eregion was built - and destroyed. Man's realm of Númenor was built -and destroyed. A second Alliance of elves and men had defeated Sauron at the gates of his land of Mordor - but not destroyed. Men had failed, as they had failed in Númenor, to rid Arda of the One Ring, Sauron's power on Middle Earth and the repository of his spirit. And another elven-king had fallen in battle. Now Glorfindel had been called forth from his contemplation in Námo's Halls, had been given a chance to return to Middle Earth so that he could aid the son of the son of the daughter of his King - Elrond of Imladris.

And find Erestor.

That had been part of the bargain that he had struck with Manwë, which he had forced from the Lord of the Valar before he would agree to the tasks set upon him. Varda had aided his plea, understanding the need for the golden lord to seek his lost love. Erestor did not reside in Mandos, for surely his soul would have sought Glorfindel out. Nay, it was his death that had separated him from his love; therefore his love must still live. Vairë, the weaver of life's threads, had given him warning.

"Not all that is sought may be found and if found, may not wish a return to that which once was. Have care, Glorfindel. Have care for your heart and your soul - and your mind."

But Glorfindel knew that Erestor was his heart and his soul and his mind. He would seek him, he would find him, he would woo him and bind him with his love. He would tell Elrond of his search. He would not ask permission for that implied the possibility of refusal and Glorfindel would brook no refusal.

The House of Elrond, dubbed the Last Homely House by many, now lay before him across the narrow stone bridge that spanned the ravine of the River Bruinen. The buildings awaiting him showed great sensitivity in their construction, combining graceful arches and winding walkways of wood and stone with the natural features of their surroundings. Over the bridge now and the horses descended into the courtyard of the main house. The yard was full and Glorfindel winced. He knew that his return was no secret, and that it was generally regarded as a miracle in that he was the only reborn elf ever to return from the Blessed Realm to the lands of Middle Earth. Although Glorfindel was not a shy elf he had no desire to be fawned upon or fêted. He had already experienced the overwhelming awe evinced by the younger elves of the Havens when his ship had landed and he had cringed when he had been told of the number of songs that extolled his sacrifice. He had hoped for something different here, in his new home.

The escort was dismounting and Glorfindel did the same, turning to face the elf who stood regal in rich velvets before him. He was unmistakable. Those grey eyes had belonged to Turgon and he had Tuor's strength and Idril's pride. This was his host. This was Elrond Peredhel. Glorfindel bowed, hand on heart. He hoped that *that* custom had not changed since his death.

"My Lord Glorfindel, we are blessed by your presence here amongst us." The voice was deep, calm and soothing. It was said that this Elrond was a healer as well as a lord and a warrior and Glorfindel could tell that the ellon would inspire trust and confidence in all who looked to him. Glorfindel grinned and he greeted the elf.

"Since you are to be *my* lord then I thank you for your kind greeting, Lord Elrond. I have been told much of your hospitality and I can see that it is all true. " He spread his hands to include the welcoming crowd and the beautiful house beyond. Elrond nodded his appreciation, a quirk in his smile denoting a well-developed sense of humour. He drew forth an elleth of astounding beauty, of silver hair and sweet smile, who was flanked by two elflings of identical features, dark grey eyes and dark hair alike.

"May I introduce my wife, Celebrían, and our twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir." The lady bent her head in gracious acknowledgement and Glorfindel could only stare at the elegance and refinement therein. His bow made, he turned to the young princes.

"My, if it were not for the fact that there are two of you, and that you are older than when I last saw him, I could swear that you are young Eärendil!" The boys squealed in delight.

"Did you really know our grandfather before he was a star?"

"Did you really fight a balrog?"

The questions came together in a rush and the golden lord laughed along with his hosts.

"Yes to both questions, my lords!"

"Now boys, you will have more time to speak with Lord Glorfindel later. He has just arrived and will want rest and refreshment first," soothed the Lady of Imladris, asserting her gentle authority over her sons.

"Aye. And if you will, my friend, I will keep the introductions short. There are many who live here but you will get to know them over time. First and foremost is my former Master of Horse and now my Chief Counsellor. It is he who truly runs Imladris - if I can but see him." Elrond searched the many faces surrounding them, obviously annoyed that such a prominent elf was not at the front of the reception party. Suddenly within the portico of the house Elrond spotted a movement in the shadows and his demeanour lightened.

"Ah, there you are, meldir. Glorfindel, this is my former tutor and most excellent friend, Master Erestor of Lindon."

So easily? So easily he had found him? His beautiful, sweet little love resided here, in the house of Elrond? Glorfindel's heart seemed to double it's pace, fluttering frantically, and his throat clenched in unbidden tears of relief and gratitude for the mercy of the Valar. His hand began to rise in greeting to the other half of his soul.

The elf in the shadows stepped forward, seemingly bringing the darkness with him. The waist-length raven hair was pulled back from his face in severely elaborate braids befitting an elf of such rank. High-neck, full-length robes in lush velvet covered his slim frame in a midnight hue that was only relieved by the thinnest edging of grey, and the voluminous sleeves hid his folded hands. The creamy skin of his face seemed ghost-white in comparison to the blackness surrounding it, and those rose-red lips held no smile. The figure - taut, austere - bowed in reserved greeting and when it rose again Glorfindel sought eagerly to meet those well-remembered chocolate-brown eyes, desperate to recognise within this restrained creature some sign of his open, emotional, passionate meleth.

The eyes are supposed to be windows to the soul. This soul spoke of great wisdom, of antiquity, of history. This soul spoke of pain. Then, as if realising that the reborn lord was reading him, a veil was drawn, and the eyes were blank - and black with repression.

"Welcome to Rivendell, Lord Glorfindel."

The voice was soft but flat, unemotional in texture, cool in content. Yet it was Erestor. The elf spoke again.

"Rooms have been prepared for you. My assistant, Saelbeth, will escort you to them. If you have any other requirements please direct them to him."

Another bow and the black elf glided away into the shadows again.

The words had been softly spoken, calculated in their content, measured in their tone. It was a speech which had been well-rehearsed, and it gave notice that this elf was not to be approached. Glorfindel could not speak, could not articulate a word in the face of such rejection. Though he had not been rejected. Simply - dismissed.

"Erestor." A whisper, a plea that went unrecognised by the intended recipient and registered only as a comment by his new lord.

"Aye, that is Erestor. A fascinating elf of great knowledge, wisdom and courage. One of the unsung heroes of elvendom, he has ever been a presence in my life. Do not be offended by his reserved manner, my lord. It is but his way with all those he does not truly know. I hope you will become good friends. And now," he turned back to the awaiting elves once more, gesturing to a white-haired ellon, "here is Master Lindir, a bard and musician beyond compare."

Glorfindel allowed himself to be turned back to the waiting throng, making his bow, a smile plastered on his face. His mind was elsewhere, with an elf in black, conjuring in his mind conversations and explanations for the frigid greeting.

Erestor was shy. He had been shy as a child, was ever so with those beyond his manufactured family unit. His public persona was cool and collected, a façade drawn to cope with external necessities. Aye, Erestor loved to be tactile when alone, detached in company. If this was the way he must act in the presence of his subordinates then of course he could not release his control in public just for his lover, could he? And how much more difficult it must be for his pen-neth to see his dead love return, to see again the one who had died on Cirith Thoronath; the elf who had been burnt and battered beyond recognition and now was hale and hearty? He must be waiting for a private moment, a true reunion. It would be wildly passionate and truly poignant; of lips and hands, of hróa and fëa, in a dance of desire as old as time. Glorfindel cheered at this conclusion and was able to face the crowds of elves yet to greet him with greater equanimity.

Time passed slowly as Glorfindel was shown around his new home. His chambers were more than adequate a suite of four rooms including a bathinambeamber. The bedroom overlooked a spectacular cascade which tumbled into the gorge below, a fine mist rising to create sparkling rainbows of reflected sunlight. The scene would only be matched in magnificence the first time he laid his beautiful Erestor upon the huge four-poster bed within.

He waited in impatient anticipation, sure that his little love would come to greet him here in private, for the reunion he had dreamed of for a thousand years. He paced the room as he counted the minutes. To have him, to hold him once more...

He waited in vain.

It was Saelbeth who arrived to guide a disappointed Glorfindel to the main dining hall. It was large enough to contain the majority of the inhabitants of Imladris for dinner, apparently a tradition that Elrond preferred for the lord treated his subjects as a family. Thus the main meal of the day was taken en masse, with a smaller hall used for breakfast and lunch. The residents also had the choice of dining in their chambers provided that notice had been given to Master Erestor in advance.

"And Master Erestor? Does he dine here too?" Glorfindel asked in hope. Saelbeth shook his head.

"Not normally, for his working hours are long and he prefers a tray either in his office or his rooms, which are on the same corridor as yours. However for special occasions such as this he will attend and is seated, as you are, at the Lord's table."

Indeed Erestor did appear at the table which was on a raised dais at one end of the hall, as Turgon's had been. The table was elegantly appointed. Elrond's chair was large but yet could not be called a throne, but still it was elaborately carved in the manner of all elvish furniture. At his side was an equally beautiful seat, this time a canopied chair in which the Lady Celebrían presided in beauty and in grace. To Glorfindel's dismay, the dark advisor chose a place at the farthest end of the table, whereas Glorfindel as guest of honour had been seated next to Elrond. From the raised eyebrow of the lord (a truly intimidating gesture, Glorfindel noted) and the reaction of a few other elves at the table, this was not the normal state of affairs and Glorfindel began to wonder if his assessment of the situation had been correct. However he realised that had they been seated opposite one another they would not have been able to restrain themselves, so perhaps Erestor had thought of that. Glorfindel knew *he* was hard pressed not to think of the physical joy of their reunion.

The food was good, the company excellent. Still, Glorfindel had to concentrate so that he could carry on an intelligent conversation with his new lord. Elrond was truly knowledgeable on a wide variety of subjects. Thankfully he kept away from the subject of Gondolin, concentrating instead on outlining the convoluted elven domains of Middle Earth and their rulers. Thus Glorfindel learned more of the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien, the parents of the Lady Celebrían. He had known of them as Celeborn of Doriath, cousin of Elu Thingol, and Galadriel, or Alatariel as she had been named in Valinor. There was also Thranduil son of Oropher, King of the Greenwood and the Silvan elves therein; Círdan of the Havens, who had received him back into Middle Earth; and Gildor Inglorion of the Wandering Company, a descendant of the royal houses who had his own realm at Edhellond.

Once the meal was concluded they moved to the Hall of Fire, an imposing hall of reflection and solitude in daylior, or, like tonight, a place of tales and songs. The fire was a great conflagration in a hearth at one end of the hall; its burning logs and coals were never allowed to dwindle to ash but were fed continuously as a signal of the continuance of the Firstborn of Arda, and as a symbol of hope for all.

Erestor did not join them.

The entertainment included sagas and songs of the past Ages, though thankfully none about Gondolin. Glorfindel realised that he owed his gratitude to Elrond. He was very appreciative of the tact shown by the lord and he knew that this would be a relationship he would enjoy and, hopefully, a friendship he could cherish. It was for that reason that Glorfindel did not rise, did not leave to search for the raven-haired elf, for to spurn such pleasures which had be arranged for him would have been churlish. Glorfindel was ever an elf of good manners, though they were sorely stretched this night.

Elrond's young sons were being allowed to stay up late as a treat and with his great affinity for children he soon found that they had adopted him as an Uncle. They thus did what most children did in such circumstances - they had climbed upon him and had claimed his knees as seats. From their innocent chatter he learned mof hif his love's life in Imladris.

"Uncle Erestor can only hold us one at a time because his knees aren't so big," said one twin. Glorfindel hadn't sorted them out yet.

"Yes,id tid the other, "but he likes 'Ro best - he says I wriggle too much." Ah, then this must be Elladan. Glorfindel thought it time for a little probing.

"So Master Erestor likes elflings, does he?" he asked gently. Elrohir nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh, he likes lots of elves, but he pretends he doesn't."

"Yes, he has to be bossy so he has to pretend that he is cross so that they obey him."

"He is very shy really."

"And sad."

Glorfindel quirked an eyebrow, dismayed that Erestor was seen as such a reserved and pained elf. "Sad? Why sad?" What answer he expected he didn't know.

Elladan's face dropped a little. "He won't tell us. Ada says he doesn't know either." The little face lifted, grey eyes pondering blue. "Ada says that he may have lost someone he loved in the big war. The one when the Valar came to help all the Eldar and the Edain and the Naugrim."

Glorfindel looked around the hall, hoping that Erestor had returned. The ellon was nowhere to be seen. "Does he not like music then? I do not see him."

Elrohir frowned. "He is probably working. He is *always* working." This was obviously not to the twins' taste.

In an innocent-sounding voice, Glorfindel asked, "And where does he work?" Both boys pointed.

"In his office."

"In the library."

"Which is next to his office."

"And Ada's office."

It took some time but within the hour Glorfindel had returned the now sleepy twins to their mother, pleaded weariness to Lord Elrond and had left the Hall of Fire.

The Last Homely House was not large, at least in comparison to Turgon's palace, but it still took a while to get his bearings. With discreet inquiries he was soon traversing the corridors of the house. Most elves were still in the Hall of Fire for his welcoming reception. But he didn't want most elves, just one.

The library, as expected, was deserted. Glorfindel strolled through the immense space, overshadowed by rack upon rack of books, tomes, maps and scrolls, all in perfect order upon the shelves. The only illumination came from Ithil's glow shining through the high windows and the flickering candlelight through an open door at the end of the room. Like all elves Glorfindel was light of foot and his soft tread made no sound even to elven ears. He peered through the open entrance and smiled at the sight within. Standing facing away from him, head slightly raised to ponder some book on a shelf, was Erestor. His hair was still in braids yet it flowed beautifully down his straight back, curving to frame the slight swell of his buttocks. The outer robe of velvet had been discarded and the long under-robe g tog to the slim frame. Glorfindel stole up behind him, capturing the dark elf in a firm embrace.

The golden lord felt the ellon tense at his touch and he stroked the upper chest to find a nipple to tease, whilst the other hand slid lower down Erestor's torso to cup his groin - a touch which had been forbidden when he had last held this sweet creature. Glorfindel let his lips explore a pointed ear, licking, kissing, sucking the tip, feeling his love melt against him. His hands stroked in their exploration of this longed-for body and he felt both Erestor's burgeoning arousal and quickening heart rate. This moment was the perfect moment. This feeling was so right. Within his arms he held his perfect, darling Erestor and they were one.

"Oh my little love, my sweet darling, I have so longed to hold you thus. I need you pen-vuin. I love you. Be mine tonight foreforever. I will never leave you again, Erestor- nîn."

He pressed his need against Erestor, leaving him in no doubt of the truth of the statement. This moment was theirs. They would be united tonight, body to body, soul to soul.

The elf stiffened in his arms and in one swift movement twisted, turned, and broke free of the embrace. Face flushed and breathing heavily, the elf composed himself swiftly, stepping away from the warrior.

"You are mistaken, Lord Glorfindel. I have no desire to accommodate your needs. I suggest you try another ellon. There are many, I am sure, who would oblige one of your - stature."

Though the voice was shaky the tone was cool and the words calculated to cut through any illusions Glorfindel may have had. Erestor was rejecting him. A stunned Glorfindel approached his love, extending his hand to him.

"Meleth nîn? What are you doing? Why do you act this way? I am come back to you, Erestor."

The black figure took another step away. His voice was gentle, soothing - remote.

"We have a meeting with Lord Elrond early in the morning, hir nîn, to establish your role here in Imladris. I suggest that a good night's sleep will clear your mind and settle your - troubles."

Nothing made sense. Here was Erestor standing before him as he had dreamed of since his death and subsequent re-birth, but instead of being tight within his arms his pen-neth was a dozen steps away, talking about meetings and sleep. The golden lord stood, confused and aroused, wondering what nightmare he had fallen into.

"Meleth, don't you know me? Don't you remember? Our love? Our life in Gondolin? Our pledge, our promise -" Glorfindel stopped, staring down at Erestor's hands. They were bare. It was gone. A sudden tremor ran through him, a dread fear. " Where is it, Erestor? Where is our ring?" Erestor shook his head. Glorfindel felt panic arise in his throat. Surely it must have been lost, stolen. Erestor would not remove it willingly - would he?

"I know not of what you speak, hir nîn. I know of no ring. You are mistaken."

Glorfindel shook his head, not wanting to believe this was happening. "Why do you say these things? Don't you know who you are? Did you forget? Were you hurt, and your memory gone?" He saw Erestor start at these words and pressed on. "Is that it, Erestor? You don't remember?"

The counsellor seemed to rally, to gather his wits and his words. The gentle voice was firm.

"I know not of what you speak, Lord Glorfindel. I am Erestor of Lindon. My life began in Lindon. I cannot be the one you believe me to be. I cannot be the one you want me to be. I am sorry, but I am not - your love."

The rejection was total, laid before him. There was no sign in this composed creature of the young Erestor he had fallen in love with. The counsellor moved, turned to pick up one of the candles on the desk and without another word glided towards the door. Glorfindel had to try just one more time to reach *his* Erestor and the love he knew was there.

"I came back for you, Erestor! I died for you. I died to save you, ind nîn. Don't you hear me? Don't you know me? Don't you love me - anymore?"

The black figure stopped, tensed and Glorfindel thought he had succeeded. Without turning the counsellor spoke, his voice tight, hollow, tinged with pain.

"I am Erestor of Lindon. You did not die for me. No one died for me. *No* one."

Then he was gone.


*-*-*


The nightmares started that night. Doors opened and closed, screams rang out, voices were raised in concern in the family wing wherein Glorfindel's chambers were situated. A worried lord and lady brought herbs and potions to calm the hysterical warrior, to ease his dreams of balrogs and battles and burning flesh.

Within a dimly lit chamber not so very far away a still figure huddled in a shadowed corner of the room. It was swathed in black, long silken robes draped over it's form, midnight hair falling as a veil over a blank face. It looked for all the world like a bundle of black rags.

One hand was clenched around a mithril locket which was suspended on a thick gold chain. The other was folded gently over a small mithril ring.

Elvish:
(with thanks to Nienna and Andrannath)
ernil - prince
meldir - my friend
meleth - love
pen-neth - little one
Ada - Daddy
Eldar - elves (as a race)
Edain - men (as a race)
Naugrim - dwarves (as a race)
pen-vuin - dear one
Erestor- nîn - my Erestor
ellon - male elf (sing.)
elleth - female elf (sing.)
hir nîn - my lord
ind nîn - my heart