Twilight Tales - The Captain's Guerdon

Chapter VI

Coirë TA 2510

Silence reigned in the Last Homely House, deafening in the wake of the strident screams and harsh sobs that had earlier resounded in the halls. A few of the household gathered a short distance down the corridor from their lord and lady’s bedchamber; watched in hushed silence as the twins and their sister emerged from the room and waited outside, their faces strained.



That in itself was not unusual – the past year had seen this scene played out many a time. But today, all who observed the siblings sensed a difference. It was in the tense stance of the brethren; in the droop of Arwen’s shoulders. Something direr than all the previous months’ events had occurred. The Elves murmured curiously among themselves.



At length, three figures came out of the chamber – Elrond and Erestor and Erestor’s healer wife. The three spoke a while before the counsellor and his lady reentered the chamber. Elrond went to his children. They conferred for several minutes and with each passing minute one could see the expressions on the younger Peredhil change from shock to incredulity to anguish.



Arwen…staunch, always composed Arwen began to sob. Elladan reached out to steady her. With a moan, she swayed then swooned; her brother caught her before she slumped to the floor. He tenderly lifted her in his arms.



At that point, the Elves were startled out of their rapt regard of the family. Glorfindel appeared amidst them and, in a soft but firm voice, bade them to disperse and leave Elrond and his children to their privacy. They swiftly obeyed. The captain spared one backward glance at the family. Elladan was bearing his sister to her room, Elrohir and Elrond following, the younger twin’s arm tight around his father’s sagging shoulders.



Glorfindel, mouth grim, headed for his own quarters. Elladan would come to him this evening and in need of what comforting the captain could give him. Of that he was certain.



So had life in the Last Homely House been since that terrible day the previous summer. When the twins had returned from the Orc nest whither their mother had been forcibly spirited, bearing back her almost unrecognizable form, so scourged and battered had it been. Glorfindel would never forget his first sight of Elrond’s lady when Elladan’s cloak had been pulled away to reveal the atrocities done to her. Thank Eru she had fallen unconscious else he did not know how she had endured the hurried ride from the Goblin den to the rendezvous point at the base of the Misty Mountains. But he also cursed the cruelty of fate that the twins should have been the ones to find their mother instead of Glorfindel or any others of the search party that had ridden out of Imladris to rescue her.



It was near midnight when Elladan entered his bedchamber. The older twin’s face was paler than normal, his grey eyes aglitter with the burden of whatever it was that Elrond had imparted to his children earlier. Lying abed, Glorfindel said nothing but simply lifted the covers in tacit invitation. Elladan shed his robe and slipped under them, into Glorfindel’s arms. For many minutes, he lay with his head on the captain’s shoulder, letting the silent stroking of his hair sooth him.



At length he spoke. “Father is sending her to Valinor,” he whispered, his voice sorrowful. “He can do nothing more for her here.”



Glorfindel stifled a gasp of dismay. For Elrond to admit defeat, that his wife’s wounds were beyond his ability to heal, was dreadful news for any who lived in the vale.



“When?” he asked.



“Spring’s end.”



He felt the tears then, the salty dampness on his skin as Elladan silently wept, his body as still as his heart was turbulent. He held Elladan more snugly.



He was at a loss. Though he had known the heartache of losing loved ones at the end of his first existence in Arda, he had not had the time to grieve for them. Indeed, others had grieved for him instead. The muting of his pain within the timeless halls unto his return to life had preempted his personal need to expunge his sorrow and feelings of devastation through the age-old rites of mourning.



All he could do was succor Elladan with his presence, with the haven of his embrace. Whether he realized or not that there could be no better balm than this became moot the moment Elladan responded by lifting his head and sealing his lips to Glorfindel’s mouth.



It was natural for the brethren to seek solace in physical release. They were not like their sister who turned to more introspective means of relieving herself of pain – in books and meditation and heartfelt discussions with those close to her. In this she was very much Elrond’s daughter. Glorfindel imagined that even now she had recovered from her faint and was probably embroiled in easing her father’s grief over his decision, closeted with him in his study along with Erestor and mayhap faithful Lindir. But the twins… He wondered briefly who warmed Elrohir’s bed this night before turning his attention to the twin who would warm his.



The stoking of the flames of desire that usually preceded their couplings was lengthier than their wont. Not for lack of lust but rather because of Elladan’s desire for more affection. A need for a greater intimacy than they’d ever shared. Glorfindel could feel it in his fervent, pillaging kisses, in the way he feverishly smoothed his palms over the captain’s flesh, the demanding grind of his groin against his lover’s hips.



When the last kiss turned almost savage in its intensity, Glorfindel broke away and gazed into Elladan’s eyes searchingly. Elladan stared back, panting shallowly, hands stilling where he had previously never ventured. On the taut curves of Glorfindel’s backside.



Glorfindel quickly comprehended what it was Elladan needed to assuage his raucous emotions though it was clear the twin was hesitant to ask it of him. Elladan avoided discomforting him more than was necessary, aware at all times of the past and its still present hold on the reborn Noldo.



For a fraught moment, the captain debated his willingness, nay, his readiness to offer Elladan this utmost comfort. But his great affection for the twin – that it might run even deeper was still something he shied from acknowledging – won out. With a sigh, he brushed his lips against Elladan’s and rolled onto his belly. If he was going to do this, he did not think he could bear to see in Elladan’s face the proof of his capitulation. Not yet.



Elladan regarded him with some disbelief. But he did not hesitate to accept what was offered. He only took the time to prepare Glorfindel’s body for breaching.



“Surely you are not untried, melethron”—lover—he murmured, surprised at the contrary evidence his fingers discovered in their probing.



“I am not untried,” Glorfindel said, his voice catching at the sensation of the no longer familiar intrusion. “But I have not lain thusly in this lifetime.”



He sensed Elladan’s astonishment. But not an abatement of his desire to have him. He braced himself as the twin molded himself to his back, the evidence of his arousal nudging at him in blatant lubricity. Elladan’s breath feathered his skin as the latter leaned low to murmur into his ear.



“You once expressed regret at not getting to know my steel,” he said. “You may not have truly meant it then but you will undoubtedly know it now.”



Even as he spoke, he pressed into the captain, easing himself in inch by inch as Glorfindel had done their first time of coupling. The golden-haired Elf gasped at his entry, then smothered each successive groan as Elladan slid in all the way. His reborn body may not have retained memories of his yieldings in Valinor or Gondolin but his mind did and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that the flesh that speared him was thicker than all others he had once known in addition to its impressive length. He gritted his teeth, willing himself to calm down, to set aside the instinct to resist Elladan’s continued passage



Elladan noted the way Glorfindel gripped the sheet beneath him, how he bit his lip and tightly shut his eyes. He did not think the Noldo had been so unwilling in his first life to yield to fellow <i>ellyn</i>. It was apparent that his reluctance now had more to do with the shielding of his emotions than the breaching of his body. For so redoubtable a warrior and one who had since built walls around his heart and assiduously guarded it, there could be no more wrenching surrender than to allow another into his body. Elladan swallowed hard at this most obvious evidence of Glorfindel’s regard for him though it remained unspoken. However much the captain retained his reticence on the matter there could be no denying that this act of submission was rooted in the very emotion he refused to allow to consume him. Mindful of Glorfindel’s comfort, Elladan did not move but waited for the fair-haired Elf to adjust to his girth.



Glorfindel strove for some semblance of calm in his mind if not his heart and body. After several tense heartbeats, he determinedly pushed back against Elladan’s hips, indicating his readiness for the twin’s initial charge. It came, deep and hard and merciless, for Glorfindel was no timid maiden who craved gentle usage but a soldier who was used to brisk, unrelenting assaults on his person whether on the rough fields of battle or on the soft plains of his bed.



He heard Elladan’s ragged breathing, felt his grip hard and possessive on his hips. Sable locks tumbled upon his shoulders to mingle with his shining tresses. The press of lips against his nape and back were akin to a scorching brand in his fevered mind. A warm hand reached around him and gripped him hardily, stroking him with a surety born of long experience. Pleasure snaked through him until his limbs trembled as the branches of a tree quiver in a gale.



With each thrust, Elladan evinced a mastery he had not displayed since their first bedding. And betrayed what depths of passion he was capable of when unrestrained in any manner. It struck Glorfindel then just what the older twin had chosen to sacrifice for the captain’s sake.



“You gift me with something precious beyond compare,” he heard Elladan hoarsely intone. “Would that I could match it some day, pen vîreb”—treasured one.



Glorfindel shivered at the tender words. Overcome if only in that instant by a cascading wave of wonder and gratitude, he said: “You already did. Long ago when you first lay beneath me.”



Ecstasy bested him then and he spoke no more as he gasped with every jolt of bliss and every spurt of his seed. And for the first time since before his passing, he knew all over again the feeling of liquid heat filling him. Only – he did not recall ever having been as physically sated. Or as absurdly delirious with contentment and joy.

*********

Lairë TA 2510

Elrond’s sigh of frustration was audible in the suddenly silent study. Glorfindel sympathized with him as he watched the ordinarily cool and collected Elf-lord distractedly paced back and forth.



It had been a mistake to delay Celebrían’s departure. The brethren had seemed to come to terms with the inevitable parting in the immediate days after their father’s announcement. But during the months between that time and her departure, their equanimity had steadily eroded and ultimately dissolved. For in that intervening time, their mother’s emotional state had deteriorated to the extent that Elrond had had to bind her to their bed during the more explosive of her hysterical outbursts.



It was the knowledge of her inevitable leave-taking of her family and the unmerited guilt that she had wrought this grief upon them that brought the poor lady to the brink of lunacy. So great had been the family’s distress that Elrond had not awaited the end of spring but taken her to the Havens nearly a month shy of the intended day of departure. Glorfindel and a select group of warriors had escorted them.



Now they were back. Saddened by the loss of a most beloved wife and lady yet relieved that she and they might find some respite from the preceding months’ ordeal. Only to face a new threat to their fragile peace.



The brethren informed their father of their intent to join the Dúnedain that summer in their yearly ridings against evil elements in the north. In particular, they would take on the creatures that had sundered their family – Orcs.



The two stood with Erestor and Arwen by the wide window that overlooked the garden and the large patch of their mother’s prized roses. They were coolly defiant in the face of the counsellor’s quiet exhortations for prudence and their sister’s eloquent pleas for them to stay – so unlike their usual warm and accommodating selves that it chilled Glorfindel’s blood to watch them. Yet he could understand their aloofness. They were probably simmering underneath with unresolved rage and only by behaving thusly could they keep from venting their fury on those about them. He had known the beginnings of that rage when he’d witnessed the death and destruction at Gondolin’s fall. When he’d seen her die. Only his own demise had forestalled the coming to full fruition of his anger and the need for revenge. The twins had no such tempering experience.



Arwen suddenly turned and came to the captain, her lovely face streaked with tears though she did not give in to frantic fits of grief.



“Speak with them, Glorfindel,” she begged. “Make them listen to reason. You have much sway with them. Elladan will hearken to you and Elrohir will follow him.”



Glorfindel glanced at the twins. They stared back at him, Elrohir’s eyes predictably challenging, Elladan’s oddly veiled. He sighed and placed a hand on Arwen’s arm.



“My heart urges me to do as you bid,” he told her. “But reason counsels me to desist.”



Arwen gasped in disbelief. “Surely you do not mean that!” she protested. “This quest for vengeance will scorch their spirits. They will change and no longer be my brothers as Fëanor ceased to be who he was when he esteemed the Silmarils above all else even unto his own kindred.”



Glorfindel shook his head. “I cannot tell them to forego what I would have once undertaken had circumstances been otherwise,” he said softly and somberly. Nevertheless, his voice carried and the others paused to listen. “Even did I succeed in making them stay, I would not be able to erase their anger. It would fester within them, embitter them and harden their hearts and souls.” He gazed intently at the brethren. “Fëanor was ever ruled by his pride. Your brothers are not as he. Even should they seek vengeance, I believe you will still know them. They will change but remain Elladan and Elrohir.”



Arwen fell silent. She looked at Erestor and then at her father. Elrond answered her gaze then turned his to the twins. For the longest while, he regarded them, as if fearful they would vanish from sight even as he did. And then his shoulders relaxed and calm returned to his patrician features.



“If this is their desire, so be it,” he quietly decreed.

**********

The sun had barely begun its ascent when Elladan and Elrohir went forth from their father’s house to embark on what would span centuries of vengeful errantry. Glorfindel eyed the group of Rangers who awaited the brethren out in the courtyard before the Last Homely House. Mounted, cloaked and armed, they were not as other men but were taller, comelier and nobler by far. Henceforth, Elrond’s sons would oft keep company with them, visible reminders of their Chieftains’ kinship with the House of the Mariner.



The captain turned his gaze to the twins. They spoke softly with their sire and sister. A modicum of softness had returned to their demeanor in this moment of parting or so it seemed to those who had gathered to see them off. But Glorfindel had known some of that tenderness the night before as Elladan lay in his arms for what might very well be the last time in the Valar knew how long. Had felt the older twin’s love embrace his spirit as effusively as his hand, mouth and body enclosed his hard flesh. They spent themselves in wordless synchrony, the only sounds the gasps and groans of their shared ecstasy.



They had not alluded to the brethren’s decision. Both knew there was no sense in dredging up what could not be altered. Elladan’s conviction in his course was strong and Glorfindel did not care to gainsay it. He understood the twins’ relentless hunger, the driving need. Mayhap had they not borne witness to the horror that had taken place in that noisome Goblin den this might have been averted. But there was no changing the past and they could only move on and pray they did not choose their paths falsely.



The twins bid Elrond farewell, caught Arwen in loving hugs. Elrohir strode towards the Rangers and his sleek steed but Elladan turned to Glorfindel. He gravely gazed at his long-time lover.



“I had thought you would seek to stay me,” he admitted.



“Much I desired to, I did not deem it wise,” Glorfindel softly replied. “It would not serve you to remain here and nurse your anger.” He smiled faintly at the older twin. “And even had I done so I doubt you would have desisted for long despite Arwen’s belief in my powers of persuasion.”



Elladan smiled wanly in return. “Aye, that is most likely.” He drew a deep breath. “I shall miss you, seron vell”—beloved—he murmured.



His eyes glimmering with mirroring sentiment, Glorfindel nodded and said: “Take care, maethoren vain.”—my beautiful warrior.



Elladan’s smile widened at the unexpected appellation. About to turn and join the others, he suddenly stepped back and pressed a swift kiss to Glorfindel’s lips. And then he was striding off to mount his steed.



The Elves watched the band ride away with melancholic hearts. They had known that life would never be the same again at the Last Homely House since the previous summer. But they had not realized just how different it would be.



Glorfindel kept his eyes on Elladan’s tall frame until the band disappeared from sight. He turned his head when he felt Arwen’s hand on his. She, too, did not take her eyes from the figures of her brothers.



“I hope you are right, Glorfindel,” she sorrowfully said. “I pray that we shall still know them when they come home to stay.”



Glorfindel sighed inwardly. So do I, he soberly thought. So do I.



***********************

coirë – Quenya for early spring

ellyn – male Elves

lairë – Quenya for summer



To be continued…