Longing

The rich tenor of Elrond’s laugh floated through a moonlit clearing in Imladris. It sent shivers down his spine. He was quite sure they had no idea he was present, for the rough baritone of the Man’s laugh quickly followed his Lord’s. Ithil was bright tonight, and illuminated everything in shades of blue and grey, making the world seem ethereal around them. Almost intangible, a place out of time.

Boromir pushed Elrond against the rough bark of a tree, knocking the wind out of the Elf-Lord. He ravished Elrond’s breathless lips and the elf wrapped strong arms around the Gondorian’s back, allowing himself to be dominated by the Man, at least for now.

Glorfindel almost chuckled and then shook his head. If Boromir knew how strong the Elf truly was…that he could very easily overpower him if he wanted… It has been unexpected, this pairing of his Lord Elrond and Boromir of Gondor. Whatever the two saw in each other, very few could see it. Erestor had speculated that their Lord might very well be losing his mind. Glorfindel knew better, but deigned not to explain.

The golden-haired Elf sighed and sank deeper into the shadows. What was he doing, spying on them like this? Elrond certainly would never expect nor approve of having his nighttime liaisons secretly watched. So why could he not tear his eyes away from the way Elrond’s pale skin nearly reflected the moonlight? Or the way his Lord’s fingers tensed against the Gondorian’s back? It had been a very long time since Glorfindel was jealous, and yet he pictured Elrond’s blunt nails digging into the material of his tunic. Not the Man’s.

Glorfindel had been with Elrond a long time. He was bound to the Elf-Lord in a unique way. He had sworn to the Valar to protect and serve the Peredhil. Mandos had been an infinite void of waiting. While some were content with it, Glorfindel was not. He ached to return, to have a home, even though he knew that Gondolin had long since fallen. And then, after the etey, hy, he had been called. Chosen above so many others that seemed so much more worthy than he. But the Valar chose him.

There were special children born to Elwing and Eärendil. One destined to embrace mortality, another to walk the eternal path of immortality. Both life and death were hard, Glorfindel knew from personal experience…

A tearing sound distracted Glorfindel from his thoughts and he frowned as he looked up to find that Boromir had torn a portion of Elrond’s velvet robe in a frustrated effort to undress his lover. Glorfindel knew he would have been gentler. He would have undressed Elrond so slowly….worshipping each inch of pale skin he uncovered. But the Man was hurried, desperate for release. Glorfindel understood somewhat; Men had so little time in the first place.

Glorfindel had come to Elrond at the end of the First Age. More accurately, Elrond and Elros had come to him. Maglor had taken both the twins, young and frightened, to Lindon after the fall of Arvernien. Glorfindel had been in Lindon several years already, waiting for his young charge and befriending Maglor. The Valar had allowed him glimpses of Elrond’s life, and he already loved the boy, treasuring images of his studious face over a book, of him curled against his brother at night, winding his fingers through the other’s hair. It seemed to him as though Elrond knew that the peaceful days of his youth were coming to an end.

So it was that Glorfindel of Gondolin became the friend, confidant, and teacher of Elrond. He watched him grow and mature and held him the whole terrible night when Elros died. He stood by him in battles against the Witchking, against Sauron. They knew so much war together, so much death.

Glorfindel sighed softly, hearing a moan of passion escape Elrond’s lips. He knew the truth, even if Erestor and the others did not. Elrond was with Boromir because it was a simple tryst, nothing more. The Lord of Imladris knew that Boromir would depart on the Ringquest soon, and if he survived he would return to Gondor, marry and have heirs. He also knew that Boromir understood this was short-lived. They were both merely lonely, and seeking comfort from each other. Glorfindel understood why it was easier for Elrond to couple with a human, someone not from Imladris, to sate his physical need. He would never have to see the Man again. He would never be at risk of heartbreak.

Heartbreak was what Elrond truly feared now, even if he never voiced it. Glorfindel knew. He had lost his parents, Elros, Gil-Galad, Celebrian, he knew Arwen would go with Aragorn eventually and his own twins, Elladan and Elrohir, would most probably stay in Middle-Earth. It was enough loss for a lifetime. With the shadow of war looming over Arda once more, Elrond did not wish to lay his heart down once more only to have a lover slain.

When he looked up again, Elrond was naked and the Man nearly so. One of Boromir’s fists was tangled in the Elf-Lord’s hair, while his other was busy between their bodies. The red marks from Elrond’s nails stood out starkly on the Man’s back in the moonlight. The Gondorian’s hard muscles flexed and worked under his skin. He still had Elrond pinned against the tree, and seemed rather pleased with himself. Only Glorfindel saw Elrond’s slight smirk.

Men had their own beauty, Glorfindel supposed, but there was only one being he had eyes for. He knew he was fated to love Elrond even before he left the Halls of Mandos. And he had stayed in the shadows while Elrond loved and was loved, and comforted him when he lost. For a while he thought he might reveal his affections in the years after Celebrian left. But it was not to be. Elrond had closed his heart off, and when he did seek comfort is ins in the form of brief dalliances, like this one.

Glorfindel had been Elrond’s best friend and confidant for many years but he could not convince him to love again. Nor could he reveal his feelings. He had sworn never to do anything to hurt Elrond, and revealing himself would cause him hurt, and thus he would be betraying both his friend and the Valar.

He heard a surprised yelp as Elrond revealed his true strength and suddenly had the Man pinned against the tree. Glorfindel almost laughed. Elrond was always docile for a time, but when the passion took him he could be fierce. This time, it was the Elf-Lord who smothered the Man with his kiss as his fingers played quickly in Boromir’s body. Glorfindel could almost feel the need rolling off Elrond. Both males cried out and Glorfindel stifled his own cry as Elrond buried himself in the Man. How many times he had imagined himself in Boromir’s place. He knew he should move away; gihem hem privacy, at least out of respect. But his feet would not move as he watched Elrond arch and flex, pale and sweating in the moonlight.

It did not take long for them to reach completion, clinging desperately to each other as the intensity of their coupling calmed down. For a time they rested against the tree, Elrond keeping Boromir’s body warm in the slight autumn chill. Then he pulled on his robes and was Lord Elrond again, kindly helping Boromir with his own garments. They said nothing, but each draped an arm around the other and walked away into the shadows.

Long minutes after they had left, Glorfindel silently came forward. He stood on the matted grass where Boromir and Elrond had been moments before. Reaching out, he ran his fingertips lightly over the bark of the tree. He leaned close and inhaled deeply, thinking he could catch Elrond’s scent still in the air. He had been near to Elrond, the Lord smelled of herbs and earth and ink. His sweat was not as pungent as the Man’s, which still hung heavy in the air, but Glorfindel could detect a lighter salty sweet smell there, one that was Elrond’s alone.

Sighing, Glorfindel of Rivendell opened his eyes and walked back toward the warm lights of Imladris. His home.