Visiting Love

Visiting Love

Summary: Rúmil visits Imladris and gets a chance with love that he never expected.

Rating: PG13

Beta: Eni the paragraph-fixer!

Disclaimer: Is Rúmil for sale yet? I want him to be mine! (In other words, not mine, all Tolkien's!)

Warnings: Some humour and fluffiness

Author notes: My reply to the recent spate of Rúmil-bashing on the Erestor list… *smiles sweetly* He needed someone to be nice to him!

Fic Update list: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/rumils_talan/?yguid=149096812

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

He liked visiting Imladris. It was so different from home, yet he never felt out of place; the Elves here would not allow a guest to feel like an outsider. He was always greeted warmly and, over the years, he had visited enough to make genuine friends here.

Though he was never able to stay long, the breaks were always welcome – usually they came at the end of a series of long patrols. He smiled; most likely that was quite deliberate. Lord Celeborn looked after his Marchwardens.

This, however, was his first visit in almost a century. For the past hundred years, it seemed as if orcs had been breeding on the borders of Lothlórien and he had barely had chance to eat and sleep, let alone act as a messenger. It hadn’t even been safe to leave the Golden Wood.

But now the threat was over and he was here again. Lord Celeborn had taken the utmost delight in informing him of his assignment – he was well aware of how much he enjoyed visiting Imladris.

Humming happily under his breath, Rúmil walked along the bright, airy halls of the house, heading towards the private offices. He had arrived late the previous night and there were many he had not yet greeted.

He stopped outside a tall door and knocked briskly. At the call to enter, he opened the door part-way and instead of going in, poked his head round the door. “Have you time to spare for one so far beneath you, oh great Lord?” he asked, winking cheekily.

The Elf at the desk immediately jumped up, his mouth curving into a wide grin.
“Rúmil! What a delightful surprise! Of course I have time for you, silly Elf, come on in!”

Laughing at the exuberant response, Rúmil moved his body fully into the room, as Glorfindel quickly crossed the room and swept him into a crushing embrace. He returned the hug, smiling warmly at his old friend. “It is good to see you again, Glorfindel,” he said, as the golden Elf led him to a chair. “It has been far too long!”

Pouring tea from the still warm pot on a side-table, Glorfindel nodded. “Aye, it has indeed!” he agreed. “I was most concerned when I heard of the troubles in Lórien.” He handed Rúmil his tea and took a seat opposite him, awaiting the guardian’s response.

“It has not been easy,” Rúmil admitted. “I cannot recall much of the past years, other that fighting and resting when I could. Haldir and Orophin did not fare much better. Orophin was injured about thirty years ago – nothing more serious than an arrow in his leg, but it kept him from the fight for almost three weeks – I was actually jealous!”

Glorfindel smiled and sipped his tea. “I am glad it is over now,” he said. Though I am not surprised. The warriors of the Golden Wood are formidable indeed!

“Well, those of Imladris are quite impressive too!” Rúmil returned. “But enough about me, how have you been, my friend?”

Glorfindel paused, considering his answer before he replied. “I am well. Our own borders have been quiet of late and I have been devoting my time to training some of the new recruits.”

"You must enjoy that," Rúmil said. "I know you said last time you wished you could take more of an active role in the training."

"I do enjoy it." Glorfindel agreed, though somewhat hesitantly. "It is satisfying to watch the skills of another grow and know you had a hand in it."

"Aye, I am sure!" the Galadhel responded. "And the lovely Erestor; how is he?"

Glorfindel's hand tightened imperceptibly on his tea cup as he answered. "He is well - so far as I know. We are - no longer together."

Rúmil was shocked at hearing this, the last time he had visited, the two had been very much in love and Rúmil had thought it only matter of time until they announced their bonding.

Catching his shocked gaze, Glorfindel smiled sadly. "Aye, we were so close once. But it was my participation in the training program that drove us apart... Erestor became jealous and thought I was getting 'too close' to the trainees." He shook his head, staring into his cup. "I tried to explain that it was just professional, that I would never betray him... but it was not enough. He asked me to give up the training. When I refused, he left me. That was twenty years ago."

Reaching out, Rúmil squeezed Glorfindel's shoulder comfortingly. "I am sorry, my friend."

Looking up, the golden Elf forced a smile. "Forget about it, Rúmil - these things happen. All we can do is pick ourselves up and move on."

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

Some hours later, long after he had excused himself from Glorfindel's company, those words were still on Rúmil’s mind. He genuinely felt bad for Glorfindel, but he had also long harboured a crush on the Balrog-slayer. Maybe now, he actually had a chance.

Staring out of the window of his room, Rúmil could see Erestor in the courtyard below, standing by a fountain as he spoke with Elrond. He would never have expected the councillor to be the jealous type, but then, he did not know him all that well. Still, Erestor’s loss may very well be his gain.

Mind you, he thought, it wouldn't hurt to talk to Erestor first. Rúmil didn't want to be the cause of any bad feelings in Imladris.

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

A week passed.

Rúmil carefully set the candle in the centre of the table, which was laid for two. It was the final touch to a perfect set-up; everything was ready now for a quiet, romantic evening. The food had arrived just a minute ago and now sat on a trolley nearby, kept warm by candle-heaters. The only thing missing was dessert, which should arrive shortly.

All he needed now was company.

His request was granted a few minutes later, when he heard a knock on the door. Smoothing down his tunic, he hurried to open the door, grinning widely as he greeted the Elf standing there. “Glorfindel, come on in, you’re right on time!” he said cheerfully, standing aside to let the golden Elf enter. “Let me get you some wine!”

“Thank you, Rúmil,” Glorfindel replied, stepping over the threshold. “That sounds lovely.” Glorfindel had to admit to himself that he was rather nervous; this was his first date since his split with Erestor and it felt like a very big step.

He watched as Rúmil poured a generous glassful and handed it to him with a smile.
“That smells wonderful,” he said conversationally, pointing to the food. “I did not have lunch today; I was caught up on the training fields.”

“We will eat soon,” Rúmil promised. “I am just waiting for dessert to arrive – I do not wish to have dinner interrupted. I hope you will not be disappointed!”

“There is very little chance of that!” Glorfindel replied, laughing. “I am so hungry I would even eat Haldir’s cooking!”

Rúmil raised an incredulous eyebrow at this last statement. “I did not think such a level of hunger was even possible,” he remarked, his eyes sparkling with mirth. It was no secret that Haldir was the most appalling cook – Rúmil had never quite forgiven him for ruining his hundredth begetting day by giving most of the guests food poisoning.

“Well, maybe I’m not quite *that* hungry,” Glorfindel admitted, winking playfully.

A knock at the door cut off Rúmil’s reply, but he smiled anyway. “That must be the dessert. Would you mind getting that, Glorfindel, while I set out the first course?”

Nodding assent, Glorfindel moved to the door and pulled it open, expecting to see a house servant with cakes and pastries.

What he saw instead was the Elf he had not seen outside a formal capacity for twenty years. “Erestor!” he said, startled. “What are you doing here?”

The councillor met his gaze with a calmness that he did not truly feel. “I could ask you the same question. I was invited to what I assumed to be a private dinner with Rúmil.”

“You must be mistaken,” Glorfindel replied, shaking his head. “Rúmil invited me to dinner.”

Having heard the exchange between the ex-lovers, Rúmil decided he had better intervene before things got too ugly. “Erestor, come in, please!” he said cheerfully as he rounded the corner and swiftly ushered the bemused councillor into the room. “Would you like some wine?”

Before Erestor could answer though, Glorfindel spoke up. “Rúmil, what is going on? You invited me to a private dinner with you!”

“You said the same thing to me,” Erestor added, taking a step away from Glorfindel, who was entirely too close.

“Actually,” Rúmil replied, “I asked you to attend a private dinner in my rooms. I never said I would be the only other in attendance.” By the looks that Erestor and Glorfindel gave him in response to this statement, neither was very impressed. “I wonder where the dessert has got to,” Rúmil said quickly, and before either Glorfindel or Erestor could stop him, he was out of the door.

Glorfindel cried out and raced after him but, as he reached the door, there was a telltale ‘click’ from the other side. With a mixture of horror and anger, Glorfindel realised that Rúmil had locked them in.

He pounded on the door, but it did not budge, his strength no match for the Elven craftsmanship that had made the door. “Rúmil o Lórien you let me out of here!” he bellowed. “If you ever want to see the Golden Wood again, you had better do as I say!”

The only response, however, was light laughter as Rúmil ran down the corridor.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Glorfindel turned to face Erestor.

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

Not until he was down the hall and round the corner did Rúmil stop. He had done all he could; it was up to them now. He certainly hoped it would work – it had not been easy to put aside his own dreams and he would be crushed if he had thrown his chance with Glorfindel away for nothing. For if this didn’t work Glorfindel would certainly never give him another chance at being his lover.

But he had to do this – his talk with Glorfindel and his subsequent conversation with Erestor had convinced him that, as much as he might wish otherwise, the two belonged together.

He just hoped it wouldn’t be the death of him. Mind you, he thought, there were more shameful ways to go than being killed by a Balrog-slayer.

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

There was no way out. The door was solid and Rúmil’s room was on the top floor of the house, so the window was out of the question. Not even an Elf would survive that drop.

“I am going to kill that Elf,” Glorfindel vowed as he walked back into the main room and sat down at the table.

“What are you doing?” Erestor asked as Glorfindel reached for the wine. “We need to find a way out of here!”

“I am having dinner,” Glorfindel replied. “There is no way out, at least until Rúmil unlocks the door, and I missed lunch. Join me if you wish.”

With that, he reached for the first course and tucked in, determined not to be intimidated by Erestor and concentrating instead on all the things he was going to do to Rúmil when he got hold of him.

Erestor watched for a moment as Glorfindel ate, then sighed softly and sat down opposite him. He was hungry too and after all, they still worked together. There was no reason they could not be civil.

The first course passed in silence, Glorfindel’s eyes never leaving his plate.
Erestor however, watched Glorfindel’s every move. It had been twenty years since they had been this close – and alone.

When both their plates were empty, Glorfindel rose, moving them to the trolley and replacing them with the main course. Nodding his thanks wordlessly, Erestor accepted the food and began to eat, yet he hardly tasted it. He was confused suddenly, he had thought he had put any romantic feelings towards Glorfindel behind him long ago, but now he found they were resurfacing. Had he been wrong to leave? But it had hurt so much to watch his lover working so closely with the young recruits, and when Glorfindel had refused to give up training them he had seen it as the confirmation of his fears – that his lover preferred their company to his. So he had left, vowing never to look back.

But he had looked back. Almost daily, he would find some reminder of what he’d given up. More than once he’d questioned his decision to leave; though had never expected to have the chance to try to make amends. Yet thanks to Rúmil’s trickery, he now had that chance. Even if they never recaptured what they’d lost, maybe they could at least put the past to rest.

“I have missed you.” Those were not the words he’d intended to say, but they were the words that came out nonetheless. He bit his lip as Glorfindel paused, laid down his fork and looked up at him.

“What do you mean?” he asked softly in reply.

“I mean exactly that,” Erestor returned. “I have missed your company, your presence in my life.”

“It was not I who decided to give it up,” Glorfindel said, his voice almost too calm as he spoke.

Erestor visibly winced; the truth hurt indeed. “I know,” he replied quietly. “It was of my doing. I know that this probably comes much too late – but I am sorry for the way things turned out.”

Glorfindel sighed. He just wanted to forget the messy past he and Erestor shared, but it seemed as if fate and a sneaky Galadhel were conspiring against him. “Why are you telling me this now, after two decades?” he asked, not sure he really wanted the answer.

“I have wanted to tell you before, many times,” Erestor confessed. “But there never seemed to be a good moment – until now.”

Staring at the half-finished dinner before him, Glorfindel battled with his emotions. Questions that had been ignored for twenty years surfaced again and this time, he voiced them. “Why, Erestor? Why did you not trust me? I had eyes only for you. The trainees were just that – soldiers under my command, that I had a duty to. Aye, some of them were attractive, but I was not interested. I had you. They understood that, Erestor. More than once I was approached, I do not deny it, but each time I said no, and told them why. Each time the soldier in question apologised and backed off. They understood my loyalty. But you did not.”

His speech over, Glorfindel fell silent, staring again at his plate and wondering if Erestor had any reply, any answers. At least he’d said what had been on his mind for so long – it felt good to get it off his chest.

For a long moment, Erestor simply absorbed Glorfindel's words and the emotions behind them - pain, anger and regret. Each word he knew to be true and it cut into his heart. He had acted badly, like a spoiled Elfling denied a treat. But what could he say? What words could ever undo the hurt he had caused Glorfindel?

"For what it is worth," he said quietly, "I did love you. I - still love you."

At this proclamation, Glorfindel’s head shot up. “Damn it all, Erestor, just what do you expect me to do with that piece of information? Tell you that it’s all right, that I forgive you and we can just start over again, that we can just forget the past twenty years?”

Erestor turned red with shame, Glorfindel’s words burning his ears and his heart. “No, I just meant…” he stopped then, frowning slightly. A moment later an odd look of determination settled over his features and he looked up, meeting Glorfindel’s gaze squarely. “Actually, yes,” he said, almost proudly. “That is exactly what I want. I admit it; twenty years ago I allowed my jealousy to get the better of me. I made a terrible mistake because of that – the worst mistake of my life. But I *do* still love you and, whether you like it or not, I know you still love me. I can see it in your eyes. I’m sorry, Glorfindel, truly I am. But I beg you – give me a second chance – please. We are meant to be – even Rúmil, despite his own crush on you, could see it.”

It was not the most eloquent of apologies, or requests. But it came from the heart and to Glorfindel, no formal speech could have said better the words he had longed to hear. In fact, had it been more formal, he might have doubted Erestor’s sincerity.

“You really think so?” he asked quietly as he looked at Erestor. “Truly?”
Erestor merely nodded in reply, looking at Glorfindel with eyes that begged for another chance at the love he’d thrown away.

The Balrog-slayer sighed, looking at Erestor silently for a long moment. Loath as he was to admit it, he did still have feelings for the councillor. Could he put aside the heartache Erestor had caused him and try again? More importantly, did he want to?

His heart warred with his mind, one urging caution, the other pleading with him to reach out and take what he still wanted.

Yet it was a battle lost before it was even truly started, for Glorfindel had always been ruled by his heart in both of his lives. In the end, he could not deny the pull on his heartstrings or Erestor’s desperate plea.

He rose from his seat and walked over to where Erestor still sat at the other side of the table. With slow and deliberate movements, he stood by Erestor’s chair and offered the councillor his hand.

Reaching out, Erestor took it and rose, until he was face-to-face with Glorfindel. He stood as still as a statue, waiting for the Balrog-slayer to act.

Suddenly, with a move so fast Erestor almost missed it, Glorfindel’s other hand shot out, pulling the councillor in for a crushing kiss.

Erestor gasped as he suddenly found himself pressed against Glorfindel, but quickly relaxed as he realised that his prayers had indeed been answered, he had been given a second chance. Leaning in closer to return the kiss, he vowed that this time he would not throw it away.

It did not take long for the kisses to increase in intensity and soon kisses were no longer enough, as twenty years of repressed passion was unleashed between them. Clothes flew as they swiftly undressed each other, tumbling into Rúmil’s bed almost without thinking.

Afterwards, as Glorfindel held the sleeping Erestor in his arms, he thought about the strange turn of events that had brought them to this and had to smile at how good it felt. Maybe he wouldn’t need to kill Rúmil after all.

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

It was many hours later when Rúmil finally returned. He paused outside the door, listening for any sounds from within. When he did not hear any, he slipped the key from his pocket and quietly unlocked the door. When this also caused no reaction, he stepped into his room, finding it dark. Lighting a candle he looked around, seeing the empty plates, but no Elves.

Walking further into the room, he grinned as he saw the discarded clothes near the bedroom door. Peeking into the bedroom, his grin became a soft smile as he saw the couple curled up on his bed, stark naked and fast asleep.

Yet even as he smiled, a pang of sadness hit his heart – he would never claim the Balrog-slayer now, by his own actions he had sacrificed that chance. Still, looking at how they held each other, he knew that he would never have truly held Glorfindel’s heart. Even though it hurt now, he knew he had done the right thing.

Stopping only long enough to grab a spare blanket for himself, he left his room again. It looked like he would be sleeping under the stars that night.

Lost in thought as he wandered along the darkened hallways, he almost collided with an Elf going in the opposite direction, his arms full of papers. They both stepped aside just in time, but the sudden movement caused some of the papers to escape the arms of the other Elf, who could not go after them without losing the others.

In an instant Rúmil had caught them, and was handing them back to the other Elf, who looked up and smiled in gratitude. Rúmil smiled too and then gasped as he saw the most incredible pair of green eyes looking at him. “Thank you,” the Elf replied softly, attempting to stuff the papers back in with the others.

“It was no trouble,” Rúmil said absently, captivated by those eyes. He went to move away, but suddenly changed his mind. “May I help you with those? It is a lot for one Elf to carry!”

“Thank you, that would be lovely,” the other returned, handing some of the papers to Rúmil. “My name is Lindir.”

“I am Rúmil, from Lórien,” he introduced himself with a slight bow. “Please, lead the way.”

Lindir nodded, his eyes sparkling happily, and moved towards his office, with Rúmil just a step behind, smiling as his heart thudded madly in his chest. It looked as if things were working out for the best after all.

THE END

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