It's a perfect day for Letting go

Title; It’s a perfect day for letting go
Author; Az (ElladanadoresElrohir@gmx.net)
Parings; Glorfindel/Elrohir
Warnings; hmmm – fluff?
Rating; N17
Summary; what happens after Haldir and Elladan left Rivendell? Can Glorfindel’s heart be mended? – Sequel for *I understand*
Disclaimer; don’t own them, don't sue me
Authors note; I posted this once, but took it down again quickly and had it betaed – I really hope its better now guys *smiles* a little fluffy fic here for the dark hours *hehe*
- Please visit Milly’s and mine homepage http://www.nad-no-ennas.net
This is betaed by Miriel Elfling – thanks sweetie.

-Az

********************************************************************’’

"But it's much too late" you say
"For doing this now
We should have done it then"
Well it just goes to show
How wrong you can be
And how you really should know
That it's never too late
To get up and go...
-The Cure, Doing the Unstruck

*****************************************************************
It’s a perfect day for letting go.


Glorfindel had returned to his chores as quickly as he could, needing to drown his mind and numb his body. Elrohir, who had stayed behind in Rivendell, had been sparring with him for weeks, and he was beginning to show marks of exhaustion. This had made Elrond the Lord of Rivendell himself react, trying to pry at Glorfindel, asking him what could be so amiss that he had to wear his son to the brim of collapse.

Glorfindel had not said a word about Haldir and Elladan. He had just excused himself with a lie. He had hated to lie to Elrond, but he saw no other way, for Elladan had said that his father had no idea why he had been so eager to ride to Lorien with him. And Glorfindel did not want to be the one to break the news to his Lord, nor the one to betray Elladan’s trust.

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

Months had passed since the two lovers had left Rivendell. This warm summer night Glorfindel was sitting finishing up writing in his journal, trying to get his grief and disappointment out that way. He did not want to hurt or strain Elrohir, and he was ashamed that he had not noticed before Elrond had chided him. And so he had relaxed during the sparring; this had only resulted in Elrohir being worried about his tutor’s mental health. This was not a burden he wanted to lay on the young Elf’s shoulders.

Aii, he missed Haldir, missed his voice, his caress and his love. A knock on the door shook the golden Elf from his musings, and to his surprise he saw Elrohir enter his chambers. The elder Prince of Rivendell looked timid and nervous.

“Elrohir,” Glorfindel said, and smiled. “What brings you here this late?”

“I, ehm, just wanted to see if you were awake,” Elrohir answered and took a small step inside the room, closing the door gently behind him.

Glorfindel looked up at his protégé and raised a brow. “I am,” he said, watching Elrohir carefully. Why did he have this feeling that this was not the truth?

Elrohir moved slowly over to a chair next to the golden Elf. “I can’t sleep,” he finally admitted.

“Me neither,” Glorfindel said, and closed the journal before standing up. “Want a glass of wine? It will help you sleep”

Elrohir nodded and sat back in the comfortable red chair. He looked around at Glorfindel’s chamber; he had never been inside the Balrog-slayer’s private room, where the Elf came to relax after his day. It was a rich room filled with artifacts from all Ages, but alongside beautiful crafted swords and skilled portraits Elrohir spotted something he recognized. A wooden sword he had made for his tutor as an Elfling. With a knife he had carved *glorfridel* into its shaft.

Glorfindel returned with two glasses and looked amused at Elrohir, who was sitting with an open mouth, looking around. The Elda looked up on whatever it was the younger Elf was looking at and started to giggle. “I still have it.”

“I made that,” Elrohir said and shifted his gaze to Glorfindel.

“Yes, and it is the sweetest gift I have ever received,” the golden Elf admitted and handed Elrohir a glass.

“I misspelled your name,” Elrohir said and couldn’t restrain a blush.

“Yes,” Glorfindel laughed, “but I promised your mother I would never make you aware of it, for you had worked so hard on making it just perfect”

Elladan blushed even more.

“Don’t be so ashamed, Elrohir, I love that sword.” Glorfindel took a sip of his wine

The dark-haired Elf smiled and followed Glorfindel’s example and took a sip of the wine. “I should make you a new one,” he said softly.

“No, don’t,” Glorfindel said quickly, and chuckled at Elrohir’s surprised expression. “This sword is just perfect.”

Elrohir smiled sweetly and stirred his wine with a finger. “Glorfindel?”

Here it comes, Glorfindel thought, but just smiled back. “Yes, Elrohir?”

“Will you tell me a story, like when I was little? One about Gondolin,” the young Elf asked and looked shy.

Glorfindel was puzzled that Elrohir had suddenly showed up at his door acting like a blushing virgin, wanting to have stories. But he decided not to try to understand, as he did not want to be alone either. And honestly, Elrohir’s company was a more than welcome break to his solitude and depressing thoughts. “Of course, penneth,” he said softly and began telling Elrohir about the magnificent gardens of Gondolin. He quickly found himself wrapped up in memories, so much that when he finished he had not even noticed that Elrohir had stopped listening. The young Elf was sound asleep in the armchair.

Glorfindel smiled to himself. Was he really that boring? He shook his head in amusement and rose from his chair, fetching his blanket and wrapping it around the young Elf. Elrohir stirred and wrinkled his nose. “Sounds beautiful,” he mumbled, still asleep. And Glorfindel had to keep himself from laughing out loud.

He got back to his own chair and poured another glass of wine. The usual melancholy did not return to him, and he found himself studying Elrohir. He could easily understand why Haldir had fallen for Elladan; the twins had turned into truly magnificent young Elves. He shook his head and took another sip of his wine, beginning to wish that he was younger and had more lust for life.

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

They continued this during the following month. Elrohir returned every night to talk with Glorfindel, having him tell stories and sing songs. This remarkably changed the depressed Elda. He seemed more cheerful, and Elrond was pleased to see his seneschal almost back to his cheerful self.

Then one afternoon when Glorfindel had returned to his chambers, he found a letter on his bed. He picked it up and instantly recognized Elrohir’s handwriting. Glorfindel felt himself blush at the gesture from the young prince; the letter told him to come to the smithy before the late meal. The Elda carefully folded the letter and chuckled to himself when he could feel the distinct sensation of excitement.

“Stop it,” he chided himself out loud. This was not a declaration of marriage; it was but a note from the youngest prince. Glorfindel was somewhat disturbed that he was reacting like that. For a month he had been telling himself that he had only enjoyed Elrohir’s company because he would not be alone in the evenings. But was he enjoying them more than he would admit? No, he had known Elrohir since he was born. This was indecent and wrong!

But nevertheless he walked out the door and hurried to the sm. Th. There he saw Elrohir waiting, talking to the smith. Glorfindel had almost entered when Elrohir turned his head and smiled at him. “You got my letter,” he said softly. Was he sounding relieved, Glorfindel wondered?

“Yes, thank you.” Glorfindel’s smiled widened.

Elrohir turned and picked something out from a shelf and wrapped in a cloth. He gently handed it to Glorfindel, as if it was as fragile as a baby.

Glorfindel stared at Elrohir in disbelief. “What is this?” he whied. ed.

“A gift,” Elrohir replied, and looked away before he would blush right here in front of the smith. He had remembered the day he had given Glorfindel that wooden sword when he was a child. He had made it for him because he had found Glorfindel to be the most amazing Elf in the world, even more powerful and brilliant than his father. And now he felt the same way again.

“B-but…” Glorfindel said to himself as he started to unwrap the cloth, thankful for his training and his ability to control his body, for otherwise he was sure that his hands would tremble. As he uncovered the inside, he saw a dagger. It was beautifully crafted with vines carved into its handle, and when he turned it he saw that it had the mark of the House of the Golden Flower. “It is beautiful, Elrohir,” Glorfindel murmured and looked up at the young Elf. For a second their eyes met, Elrohir’s shining with admiration and something else. Something that made the elder Elf blush even though he tried not to. Elrohir bit his lip and quickly looked at the floor.

“Thank you,” the half-Elf mumbled. Had he really seen what he had thought he had in Glorfindel’s eyes? Or had he just dared to hope for a second?

Glorfindel smiled. “You remembered the golden flower.”

“It is easier to draw a flower than to spell your name.” Elrohir grinned impishly.

Glorfindel laughed and spontaneously hugged the younger Elf. Elrohir froze in the embrace, not knowing what to do. He felt as if his cheeks became impossibly warm, and before he knew it he placed a suave kiss on the Elda’s cheek.

Glorfindel let go of Elrohir as if were bitten by a snake. He had to get out before he did something stupid. Cleared his throat, he looked nervously at the smith and then back to Elrohir. “Thank you,” he croaked. “I should go and hang it next to the other one.”

Elrohir nodded and averted his eyes from the golden Elf’s gaze. “I will see you later,” he whispered.

“Yes, you will, penneth,” Glorfindel said and tried to sound cheery, but in fact had he perhaps sounded a bit too enthusiastic? He quickly turned and left the smithy, returning to his chambers. Had he really seen what he thought he had in the young Elf’s eyes? And why was he reacting to it? He had helped raise Elrohir; the twin was nothing but a big child, he told himself. Glorfindel shook his head. Why was he lying to himself? Elrohir was grown and not a child.

He reached his chambers and carefully placed the dagger on his bed, and then he noticed something he had not seen before. His initials was carved in the handle between the vine. Turning the dagger, his heart skipped a beat when he saw Elrohir’s initials on the other side; well hidden between vines and leaves, but it was there. He smiled to himself, and as he stood there he realized that he had not even given Haldir a thought in weeks. The silver-haired Elf had been acedaced in his dreams. He had not wanted to admit it to himself, but it was the truth. His thoughts had been filled with grey eyes and dark brown hair falling like silk over the flawless skin of the younger prince.

The butterflies suddenly turned to panic. What if Elrohir was just comforting him, trying to make his transgression from Haldir to being alone lighter? It was not like he had ever spent much time with Elrohir, but suddenly he had stepped in, claiming all of Glorfindel’s time.

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

Elrohir smiled at the smith, not sure what to do. When the smith smiled back and asked, “So did it work like you had hoped?” he blushed yet again.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Elrohir said defensively and quickly walked out of the smithy, suddenly not sure if it had been a good idea to have that dagger made. What if Glorfindel thought it was too much? He should properly not have had their initials carved into the hilt.

He sighed and walked towards the kitchen. He had to eat; he always thought clearer when he ate. He sat down at the table and absentmindedly began to munch on some bread.

He tried to remember when he had first fallen in love with the seneschal, but he couldn’t remember. Perhaps he had just always been. He had been forced to leave the training and join Erestor in his study. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed Erestor’s company—he was a meek soul and a true friend. The problem was just that he had enjoyed Glorfindel’s company too much.

He would have to face his tutor; otherwise the golden-haired Elf would surely think something amiss. Elrohir finished the bread and picked up an apple instead. He felt a little bad that he had actually felt glad when Haldir had left—he truly hoped he and Elladan would be happy, but he had never the less felt glad that Glorfindel was alone again. He had tried to comfort the Elf, but that had brought him close to Glorfindel once again, and this time he knew more about what it was he was aching for. He did nott frt friendship or guidance. He wanted Glorfindel—all of him.

The first night he ventured into the Elda’s chambers he had not been able to sleep, for the dream about Glorfindel had returned every time he had closed his eyes, and then in a moment’s insanity he had actually went to his door. As soon as he had knocked on the heavy wooden door he had regretted it, but then Glorfindel had called for him to enter.

******************************’’

Glorfindel found himself sitting in his chair, but could not relax. He was waiting; his whole state of mind was alert. He hoped Elrohir would return this night. And when the light knock sounded he held his breath, watching as the door opened and the young prince entered.

They had chatted just like any other night, and Glorfindel had told a story about the magic forest of Doriath. Elrohir had fallen asleep, and upon watching the dark-haired Elf sleeping Glorfindel made up his mind. He rose to his feet, and gently collected Elrohir from the chair; the young Elf stirred some but quickly just snuggled up against Glorfindel’s chest with a sleepy purr.

Glorfindel couldn’t help but smile, and the little whimper the young one made as he was laid in the bed made Glorfindel’s heart flutter madly. And he gently lay down next to the prince.

Elrohir cuddled up to the being lying next to him. Glorfindel tried to stay his hands as long as he could, but soon he just had to run his fingers through the silken tresses of Elrohir’s hair. And when Elrohir suddenly opened his eyes and looked straight at him, he felt his smile widen. “You should sleep,” he whispered.

Elrohir just shook his head ever so slightly and cuddled closer to Glorfindel. This gesture persuaded the Elda that his assumptions had not been wrong; Elrohir really did want this as much as he did. And so he lowered his head and kissed the Prince on the base of his ear. When Elrohir purred in response Glorfindel grew bolder, trailing kisses further along the fine jaw line; and when Elrohir turned his head so their lips met, Glorfindel heard himself purr as well.

He opened his mouth to invite the lazy kiss from the youth; he had thought this would be hard or strange. But it was not. It felt right and natural. His entire body felt on fire as he felt Elrohir caress his cheek gently, and the kiss deepened.

They broke it off when they both were in the need of air; Elrohir smiled at seeing Glorfindel’s flustered cheeks. And the thought struck him—he could have the Balrog-slayer himself. He had always thought that the Elda would be more aggressive in his love, but the kiss they had just shared and the look in those azure blue eyes made him sure that this was not the case.

As if testing ground, growing bolder and aroused by his newfound idea, he gently pushed Glorfindel back in the madras. As he had thought, the blond let him; he even licked his lips. Elrohir smiled wolfishly while sitting up, straddling Glorfindel’s hips. He could feel the growing erection through the thin fabric underneath him. He raised a brow, purring, before leaning over and licking his way from the base of Glorfindel’s neck to the sensitive tip of his pointed ear. When he sucked on it, the Elda moaned ever so slightly. Elrohir giggled inside—Glorfindel might have killed a Balrog, but he, the son of Elrond Half-Elven, mastered Glorfindel.

Glorfindel was positively amazed over Elrohir’s boldness, but it had made his heart beat even faster in his chest, at this unexpected turn of events he had never even considered. He had never thought the demure son of Elrond would be on the giving end. But he was. No matter how much Glorfindel tried to stay himself, he felt himself grow painfully hard; and when those soft lips had suckled on his ear he had not been able to hold back a moan of delight.

The blond gently tugged at Elrohir’s tunic, and he gladly replied, sitting up straight to remove the tunic in a fluid move. This sight made Glorfindel gasp for breath. It had been just like his dream; dark brown hair fell across the smooth skin of Elrohir’s shoulders. Elrohir looked somewhat worried, and whispered, “Is something wrong?” He was just about to reach for his tunic again when Glorfindel let his hands run over the muscular stomach of the younger Elf. “No, you are perfect, just like I imagined,” he admitted shyly.

The frown turned into an impish grin and Elrohir leaned over and kissed Glorfindel. “I’m glad,” he mumbled and in return started to remove Glorfindel’s tunic as well.

After some effort they had both discarded their clothes, but Elrohir had somehow managed to keep his place sitting across Glorfindel’s lap. As soon as they were naked, he slipped down to lie upon the other Elf, feeling the warmth from Glorfindel’s body. The Elda seized the moment, and wrapped his long legs around Elrohir’s waist. And Elrohir had to bite down on Glorfindel’s shoulder as he felt their erections meet. He felt his whole body tingle, and knew he would not last long. He had better do something. He snaked a arm down between them so he could reach Glorfindel’s opening, and gently began to manipulate the tightness, trying to be patient.

But Glorfindel was growing impatient too, and gathered enough willpower not to thrust himself shameless against Elrohir. He touched the young Elf’s arm, crushed down between them. “Don’t,” he breathed, “You don’t have to.”

Elrohir reluctantly stopped probing around inside his lover, and kissed the corner of the soft mouth of the Elda. “But I will hurt you,” he said in a soft voice, and started to nibble on Glorfindel’s lower lip.

“No, you w-wont,” Glorfindel stuttered and pulled Elrohir’s arm again. Elrohir slowly withdrew his arm and raised his hips so the tip of his shaft was pressing against Glorfindel’s opening. He hesitated and lowered his head to kiss his lover’s earlobe.

“I c-cant, I will h-hurt you,” he whispered. Glorfindel arched his back and with a quick move of his legs, he rammed himself against Elrohir, and impaled himself. Both Elves gasped at the sensation. “Ohhh,” Elrohir breathed with a shaky voice, but nevertheless began to move slowly, while flitting butterfly kisses all over Glorfindel’s face

The Elda opened his eyes and looked at his lover. He had never thought he would see such a beautiful sight in his life, as he watched Elrohir lost in his own lust with his eyes shut. “You are incredible,” Glorfindel murmured before feeling a shockwave of lust rise inside him, as Elrohir opened his eyes. The young Elf opened his mouth to answer but instead he just moaned aloud, lowering his head as he made irregular quick thrusts and released himself. Glorfindel could feel the him climaxing and he finally let go too.

Elrohir collapsed, gasping for breath and chuckling. This was something Glorfindel had never done before—for him, coupling had always been a sacred act, not something to laugh at—but this young one was different, relaxed and at ease. This puzzled Glorfindel; this was so far from the Elrohir he had known in all these years.

“I will make that up to you,” Elrohir said hotly and kissed Glorfindel’s shoulder.

Now Glorfindel couldn’t help but chuckle too, replying, “You are most welcome”.

“Tomorrow?” Elrohir asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Glorfindel said with mock casual indifference in his voice.

Elrohir turned Glorfindel’s head with his hand, so they looked each other straight in the eyes. “What I mean is, can I stay here?”

“Yes please,” Glorfindel whispered and kissed the youth’s nose playfully.

And so entwined in each other they both drifted off. Glorfindel, half-sleeping, thought about how his heart had been breaking only two months ago, and here he was feeling as if he had been retrieved home from the shadows. He wondered if Haldir had felt the same when he had met Elladan. He could not imagine that anything could ever feel as good as having Elrohir’s slender limbs curled around him, listening to his breathing. Glorfindel’s heart was about to burst with love for this magnificent being. Nothing could feel like this, and nothing ever would come close.

Glorfindel smiled as Elrohir kissed his arm while sleeping, and he wondered how he could have been so blind as to not see the love that was waiting for him, right under his nose. He had been foolish enough to search for it in the wrong places. He knew this now.

Glorfindel fell asleep while breathing slowly in Elrohir’s hair, letting the scent of his beloved lull him to sleep. It had not been the end as he had thought. This was a beginning.

-The end -