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Twilight Tales - The Captain's Guerdon	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 8528 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Chapter XII

Ringarë TA 3018

The chill of a bleak winter hung like a pall over the empty land. Were it not for the two horsemen who now traversed the barren plains, one might mistake this patch of Eriador to be completely forsaken by living creatures.

Elladan heaved a sigh of relief when they at last came upon the trail that led into the secret cleft wherein Imladris nestled. It was some two months since he and Elrohir had ridden out of the haven. It was likely they were the last to return of those who had set out to scour the lands in preparation for Frodo Baggins' perilous quest.

Aragorn's original plan to ride east over the mountains with his Elf-brothers had been aborted when, just as he and the brethren were ready to depart, his Dúnedain kin had arrived. Halbarad and his band of Rangers had been in the immediate vicinity and the Elves sent out right after the council to seek them had swiftly come upon them.

Halbarad had suggested that they might be of better service were they to assist the Elves who would ride west and south. After all, the Rangers knew those lands far more than Elrond's scouts whereas the way east was already familiar to many of them.

Acceding to his cousin's counsel, Aragorn decided to accompany his kinsfolk that he might also confer with them at length over the Quest to come. And so they had ridden westward while the twins had gone east with a number of Elven companions. Parting from the brethren once they descended the Dimrill stairs, the scouts had travelled to Radagast's old home at Rhosgobel while the twins made their way down the river Celebrant, the Silverlode, and gone on to the Golden Wood.

Elladan felt a pang of regret as he recalled those few weeks of their stay in their grandparents' realm. It had not been the most comfortable of sojourns.

While only a handful of Rivendell's folk knew the reason behind his quarter century rift with Glorfindel, the same could not be said of the Galadhrim. He had been far from discreet about his liaison with Rúmil and it had even been used by some of the soldier Geledhil as a means of goading Glorfindel's proud warriors. It was that careless disregard for pride and sensibilities that had led to the exposure of Elladan's indiscretion and thereafter his grievous break with Glorfindel.

But there had been no such leaks since. No gossip about the affair had reached Rivendell and that was due to Celeborn and Galadriel's iron rule over their people even if said rule was oft gloved in velvet. Ere the brethren had crossed the mountains after their last leave-taking, the Lord and Lady had already been apprised of their older grandson's folly by way of Galadriel's handmaiden who had overheard the less than congenial exchange between the Lórien guards and the Imladrin warriors. True to her training, she had first gathered more information upon their return to Caras Galadon before informing her master and mistress of the matter.

Celeborn and Galadriel had moved to contain what damage they could. Not so much to keep Glorfindel from discovering the affair - his men would surely bring the news to him soonest. However, they also knew that loyalty to their captain would keep these same warriors from spreading it beyond the walls of Glorfindel's office. If they ensured Lórien's silence on this, it was to keep things from worsening. For if word was to reach Imladris and become general knowledge, it would deal a deadly blow to the golden-haired Noldo's pride. If that happened, the chances of any reconciliation between him and their grandson would all but disappear. Hence, the stern warning to all the Galadhrim to guard their tongues lest they wished to taste their Lord and Lady's full wrath.

With no recourse to openly vent his bewilderment and hurt pride, was it any wonder that Rúmil had made that backhanded swipe at Glorfindel last the captain visited the Golden Wood?

Their welcome to Lórien was blessedly shorn of tension. Only Haldir had been present at the western border and he had not in any way displayed rancor toward Elladan. The older twin would always be grateful for the marchwarden's words to him when he'd quietly apologized for whatever hurt he may have caused his younger brother.

Haldir said: “Rúmil took that risk when he dared approach you knowing where your heart truly belongs. Do not take all the blame upon yourself, my lord. He had an equal share in it.” The argent-haired Elf had paused then sighed. “Mayhap more than an equal share. 'Twas neither noble nor wise of him to take advantage of your fraught state at the time.”

That startled Elladan that his anger and confusion should have been so apparent that word of it had reached the border guards. It also mitigated some of his guilt regarding his treatment of Rúmil. In hindsight, it was now apparent that the young guard's actions had not been all that sterling either when he had insinuated himself into the picture while Elladan was at his weakest. The older twin did not know if love had aught to do with Rúmil's behavior. He only knew that an Elf should not covet another Elf's lover.

Haldir's insightful opinion of his brother's conduct and the realizations that followed in its wake served him in good stead. By the time he and Elrohir found themselves secure in Celeborn and Galadriel's warm and welcoming clasps, he no longer harbored any overwhelming guilt that might have led him to take some inadvisable course of action. Not a renewed liaison to make amends of course - never that. But he might have put himself in another inopportune position that would have compounded his discomfort in the presence of the other Elf. As it was, when he saw Rúmil standing amongst his grandparents' guards, he felt only the regret of any truehearted being at having been the cause of another's hurt. That was all - no more, no less.

This was not to say that Elladan thought himself absolved of blame for his part in that sordid affair. But his recognition of Rúmil's share in it did ease his guilt and made him start to ponder just what it was that had rendered him so vulnerable to his blandishments in the first place. He had avoided thinking about it because of the pain the memories recalled to him. Mayhap it was time he took a closer look at himself.

But before that, there was a matter that had to be cleared up first. Three mornings after the twins' arrival, Elladan headed for the barracks. He did not banter with the warriors who greeted him as had been his wont on previous visits but asked at once to speak with Rúmil. He ignored the barely concealed curious regard of the other Elves as he awaited the arrival of his erstwhile paramour.

The curiosity peaked when Rúmil appeared and his face brightened discernibly as soon as he laid eyes on the Elf-lord. Elladan offered a tight, polite smile that indicated nothing of his intentions or feelings. Rúmil's expression changed from elated to bemused but before he could say a word, Elladan turned and led the way to a more private spot beyond the barracks, a small glade partly shielded by a copse. It put them out of earshot of the others but kept them within their sight at all times.

Almost as soon as they entered the glade, Rúmil closed the distance between them, eyes shining in anticipation. But Elladan stepped back swiftly, his hand going up to ward off the other's advance.

“I did not come to tryst with you,” he said carefully, “but to tell you that I rue what we did. What I did.”

The guard gazed at him uneasily. “When you shunned me afterwards, my lord,” he ventured with the faintest tinge of accusation in his voice, “I hoped it was only because you were distraught at having discovered that you were not as happy with your esteemed captain as you deemed yourself. I did not like it when your brother sent me away but I thought you needed time to come to terms with - a change of heart.”

“I was distraught,” Elladan admitted. “But a change of heart was not the reason for it. 'Twas shame that drove me to behave thusly. Shame that I had betrayed one who had done me no wrong and in so hurtful a fashion.”

Rúmil's eyes widened with wavering disbelief. “So 'tis true! You have returned to him,” he gasped. “I could scarce give credence to that news when I heard it.”

“I never truly left him,” Elladan softly corrected. “I did but stray for a while and paid dearly for it after.”

“Then what was I to you, my lord?” the Galadhel demanded, his voice sharp with frustration and ire. “A mere bed-treat to use when you were lonely and cast away once you were done?”

“You were no innocent when you sought to court me, Rúmil,” Elladan gently chided. “We both are to blame for this sorry state of affairs. You dared to seek my favors, knowing where my heart lay. And I allowed my rage to rule me and broke faith with one who had never played me false.”

“Mayhap the Balrog slayer has indeed never betrayed you,” Rúmil retorted. “But neither has he ever uttered any promises whose breaking would constitute faithlessness. You said so yourself, my lord. You told me that you do not even know for certain if he loves you!”

Elladan flushed with shame at having put Glorfindel in so unfavorable a light. And before the one with whom he had cuckolded his lover at that. He drew a shuddery breath, recalling once more the misery that had followed in the wake of Glorfindel's discovery of his illicit liaison.

“'Twas wrong of me to speak of such matters with you,” he bleakly said. “And even more reprehensible when 'twas not the truth but only said in ill-founded anger. I pray you did not spread such slander of so noble an Elf.”

It was Rúmil's turn to redden. “I may only be a simple border guard but I would not stoop to so dishonorable a deed,” he sullenly replied.

“Yet you did not desist from reminding him of my perfidy,” Elladan could not help pointing out.

The guard winced then looked away. He was, after all, not evil or malicious. But a scorned lover he was, and as many scorned lovers are wont to do, had not been able to resist taking some vengeance on the one who had hurt him. His error, however, had been to vent his umbrage on the wrong person.

Elladan grimly said: “If it was your intention to strike at me through him, I will admit you succeeded all too well. But it was not kind of you to cause him pain, Rúmil. For what harm had he ever done you save to be the one who holds my heart?”

This last statement loosed the moorings of the young warden's already frayed forbearance. “How can you love one who cannot give wholly of himself to you?” he cried bitterly. “Why do you cleave to him when he never truly sates your spirit but only leaves you yearning for more? I would have given you everything you asked of me, as he has never done. You told me this, my lord, and you said I pleased you. Yet still you choose him. Why?”

Elladan did not reply at once but considered Rúmil's not unexpected tirade pensively. At length, he looked at the guard, his eyes entreating him to understand. “Because he is Glorfindel,” he quietly said.

Rúmil caught his breath in shock. And then his shoulders slumped in defeat. Heaving a resigned sigh, he shook his head and said: “You are besotted with him beyond reason. I cannot hope to compete with one so sublimely regarded as you do him. No one can.”

Elladan did not know what to say to that. And so he offered a simple and contrite, “I am sorry, Rúmil.”

The guard stared at him then nodded. “I am sorry, too, my lord,” he answered regretfully. “Sorry that you have chosen to cast your lot with so parsimonious a lover. One such as you deserves to be cherished without stint. Not left to wane or wither for want of proper tending.”

With a brisk bow to Elladan, he left the glade.

**********

Glorfindel was in the midst of a conference with his lieutenants when they arrived in Rivendell. After sending a squire to summon Elrond, he escorted them to their father's study, informing them that he had arrived from Mirkwood some weeks beforehand and that Thranduil, while far from pleased about having been kept in the dark regarding the true identity of his strange captive, had been cooperative nonetheless. No doubt the Elvenking was far more concerned about the immediate threat from Dol Guldur than events that would most likely take place far from his borders and people. After all, he had known the brunt of that evil stronghold's power before while Mordor was no more than a malevolent memory to him from a time long past. He had also inquired as to why his youngest son had not come with the Imladrin contingent to tell him personally about the Council. Elrohir looked sharply at the captain - he could not help being in agreement with Thranduil. Why had Legolas remained in Rivendell? To this Glorfindel would make no answer but said it would be best that they asked their father for the prince's reasons.

Before he left to return to his men, he glanced at Elladan, a question in his eyes. Elladan's reply was a slight smile. Elrohir shook his head at their wordless conversation. He knew without asking that as soon as they finished reporting to Elrond, his brother would head for Glorfindel's quarters and remain there for the rest of the day. But he said nothing and soon Elrond arrived to welcome them and listen to their news.

It was many hours before they emerged from their talk with their sire. The sun was still riding high when they came to the vale. Now it was late afternoon. As they stepped out into the hallway, they espied a young Elf making his way down the wide corridor. The Elf came to a halt when he saw them, his expression a blend of pleasure and nervousness.

“Legolas!” Elrohir said, a smile lighting his comely face. “How fare you, my prince?”

“Well enough,” the Wood-elf softly answered, obviously abashed by Elladan's watchful presence. “And you? I trust your journey was fruitful?” he shyly added.

“Enough for our purposes,” Elladan said. He glanced at his brother, grey eyes dancing with mirth. “I will see you later, tôr neth.”-younger brother-he said with a smirk. “Glorfindel awaits me.”

With a friendly nod at Legolas, he strode off towards the captain's quarters. A backward glance showed his brother and the Mirkwood prince walking away - toward Elrohir's chamber. He could not forebear a grin. Elrohir was certainly not wasting any time.

And neither would Glorfindel, he thought, once the captain was done with his duties for the day. Out of nowhere, unease assailed him. There had always been an element of desperate longing whenever they came together after a parting. This had amplified in the aftermath of his misguided affair and was now oft shadowed by Glorfindel's lingering distrust regarding his capacity for fidelity. It showed in the manner of their initial couplings upon reunion - in the intensely possessive nature of Glorfindel's taking of him. Elladan quavered with uncharacteristic disquiet.

What more now when he was newly returned from Lórien - the very site of his oath breaking?

Suddenly stricken with deep anxiety, he could not bring himself to go on but retreated instead to his own bedchamber. To its apparent safety.

He could not quite pinpoint the cause of his qualms. Certainly not Glorfindel himself for his lover would never do him harm. Would never raise hand or sword to him. Even at the height of his anger twenty-five years ago, he had only resorted to words. Cutting words that had left deep wounds.

Elladan felt his misgivings blossom into active fear. It hit him then. He had not truly recovered from those words. He still bore the scars of the captain's verbal lashing. Each time he returned from the Wild now it was always with a mixture of elation and dread that he might have failed Glorfindel anew in some way. Elrohir had castigated him frequently enough for indulging this fear but he could not help it. Not when he recalled the wintry coldness of Glorfindel's wrath, so far more potent than the volcanic fury of others.

He entered his room and sought the soothing embrace of a hot bath. A good half hour later, refreshed and some degrees calmer, he lay down on his bed and tried to lose himself in the healing nothingness of slumber. He would go to Glorfindel later, when he was no longer wracked with tension.

He was in that twilight state between waking and dreaming when he felt it. His bond with Elrohir was stronger than any that had existed between brothers since the dawning of time. So strong that they could sense the other even when they did not seek to, particularly when their guard was down such as in light sleep or reverie. And especially when one or the other was steeped in some powerful emotion - grief, excitement, anger, joy.

He caught his breath as he felt the welling of profound bliss in the periphery of his consciousness - a bliss born not only of the heart but also of the spirit and body as well. He had never known his twin to be so happy, so - so contented. He sat up and stared in confusion at the far wall that separated his chamber from Elrohir's. And then he sensed it.

A joy that was not his brother's. An outpouring of love and lust that was so forceful, so heartfelt that it joined with Elrohir's own felicity and came through their brotherly link. But of course - Legolas!

He lay down on his side, his heart starting to pound madly as he realized something. In all his time with Glorfindel, he had never known such openness of heart and mind before. Had never felt that utter surrender of self from the captain. Yet Legolas had done it for Elrohir. Allowed his feelings free rein and yielded all that he was and had and in so short a time.

Elbereth! They barely know each other, Elladan thought. But they had recognized their preordained bond at first sight. Had recognized it and did not deny it but claimed and embraced it to its fullest. It should not surprise him, he told himself. At least, not where Elrohir was concerned.

It was the way of the Peredhil. It explained Elwing's determination to stay at Eärendil's side when he braved the Valar's awful retribution and challenged the ancient ban. Why Elros Elrond's brother had chosen mortality that he might be one with his human queen. Why Arwen would follow in his footsteps rather than be parted from her Ranger love in this life and the next. Why Elrond had wooed his silver-crowned lady even when he had thought himself unworthy of so lauded an Elf-maid. Why Elrohir had moved so swiftly to claim what he knew was his the moment he laid eyes on the woodland prince. And why Elladan had never abandoned his pursuit of his elusive captain.

And there lay the rub. Glorfindel was still his elusive captain. He alone of those who had captured the hearts of the Peredhil continued to resist the uncanny connection that linked him to his lover. Had linked them from their first meeting onward.

He struggled to block the channel through which his bond with Elrohir flowed. He needed to think and he could not when distracted by the joy of his brother's joining with his newfound love. He was pleased for Elrohir - he could never begrudge his twin happiness - but he was also saddened that he might never know it himself.

For the first time in his life, Elladan was uncertain of his ultimate fate. He had always believed he would be as his father and Half-elven grandparents. He would do his duty to land and people. Would fight and possibly die for those he was sworn to protect. It seemed a stark life at best for the eldest born of the Lord of Rivendell and might have cowed a less staunch heart. But Elladan had also carried with him the conviction that he would experience his parents' abiding love for each other. That he would find his own mate in life; the one to whom he would belong and in turn was destined for him alone. That love would succor him through thick or thin. Would stand by him come what may.

What he had never foreseen and even less expected was that this love would arrive in the person of a legend returned to life. And he had never considered that, while he would readily accept the Elf who embodied love for him, that Elf would not do the same. Or could not.

A tear trickled down his cheek as he faced the possibility that perhaps he had been singled out. That while he had been gifted with the same predestined love as the rest of his kin, it did not mean that he would own it as they owned theirs. With that thought came a dread of the future.

Could he endure that? To spend the unending years trapped in the limbo that was the lot of an Elf who was neither free nor taken?

He remembered Rúmil's parting words. The young guard would have given him what Glorfindel had not and likely never would. He had sensed this from the moment Rúmil had flirted with him. Indeed, he had sensed this with many others but never truly taken notice. Only with Rúmil had he opened himself that tiniest bit and eventually succumbed.

But it did not mean he cared for the guard more than he had the others or even that in that brief time he had wavered in his love for Glorfindel. His yielding to temptation had nothing to do with Rúmil's attractions and everything to do with himself. The guard had simply been in the right place and at the right time. When Elladan's heart had finally wearied, worn down by centuries of fruitless waiting. When his longing for wholehearted, unequivocal appreciation for him had overtaken reason.

The tear turned into a torrent as Elladan accepted the truth at last. He had known this fatigue long ago but fought against it, refusing to surrender to its pull, relying on his steadfast belief that he would find his reward in the end. But today, in this moment, after having known even ephemerally the full measure of a true melding of hearts, something broke inside of him. He finally gave in to the hopelessness of his cause. And gave up.

He would never tell Elrohir the full tale of his anguished soul's unbidden journey. His brother would wonder and guess and badger him until he revealed to him something of it. But he would not burden him with the whole truth; that it was his joy that had led Elladan down the path to loss and sorrow and choice. Elrohir would not let him go without a fight; would rail at him and plead with him on bended knee and do all in his power to push him back onto the straight road to Elvenhome.

Elladan smiled through his tears, savoring the knowledge of his brother's unfailing love for him. He decided that he would not declare himself without Elrohir's knowledge. It would pain his twin to bear witness to something that would eternally part them but it would hurt him even more were Elladan to act in secret.

Peace came to him on the heels of his decision. He had not felt such serenity for so long, he realized. He might never know happiness as his brother and sister knew it but he would have peace at least. It would be enough to sustain him as he continued on his way through life. In the meantime, he would make good use of his time.

Elrohir had oft accused him of being less than the Peredhel he'd been bred to be. It had stung but Elladan now accepted that perhaps his brother had spoken the truth. Perhaps in his single-minded pursuit of his Noldorin lover, he had been derelict in living up to all that he could and should be. He would make amends now. He would be what he had been born to be. He was Elladan son of Elrond and he would do his loved ones proud whatever the cost.

He started when a shadow fell across him. He shifted and looked up into Glorfindel's concerned eyes. He sat up, hastily passing his hand across his eyes to wipe away the last of his tears.

“Elladan, what ails you?” Glorfindel softly asked, seating himself on the edge of the bed. He snuck a hand under Elladan's chin to lift it and frowned when he took in the other's red-rimmed eyes. “Have you been weeping?”

Elladan shook his head. “I was only more weary than I thought,” he said, sadly acknowledging to himself the double meaning of his reply. “I must have fallen asleep. Did I keep you waiting overlong?”

Glorfindel regarded him curiously, sensing that something had troubled Elladan beyond mere physical lassitude. “'Tis long past the evening meal,” he replied. “Did you not hear the bell?”

Surprised, Elladan looked out the window at the darkness beyond. “Oh, I did not realize how late it is,” he murmured. “I am sorry, Glorfindel.”

“Do not apologize for your exhaustion,” the captain mildly reproved him. “I became concerned when you failed to appear in the dining hall. Your reason for staying away could hardly have been the same as your brother's.”

Elladan faintly chuckled. “So you have uncovered that affair, have you?” he smiled.

Glorfindel smiled back. “Only a want-wit could misconstrue what I witnessed earlier. Elrohir must have gone to replenish his stock of wine for I saw him returning to his room with a bottle in hand and even before he came to his door, Legolas opened it and clad in little more than a robe that I definitely know belongs to your brother. Last I saw of them before Elrohir kicked his door shut, they were in each other's arms, kissing as if they'd been parted for years rather than mere minutes!”

That elicited another laugh from Elladan. Yes, he was truly happy for his twin. He would tell him so tomorrow. But for now…

He lay back, suddenly pulling a surprised Glorfindel atop him. The captain looked at him questioningly.

“I thought you were tired,” he commented, though he did not look at all displeased at the implicit invitation.

“I am well rested now,” Elladan told him with a smirk, stroking the captain's cheek. “I assure you I am more than ready for your attention!”

After a moment's hesitation, Glorfindel leaned down and kissed him long but gently, as if gauging the veracity of his claim. He drew back and gazed at his younger lover. Something about Elladan's smile struck him as peculiar, almost fey if the term could be applied to an Elf. He wondered about it but could not quite put his finger on the cause of it. Did the reason lie in this reunion? But the only thing that set this reunion apart from the others was whence Elladan had just returned. A slight frown creased his brow.

“How was your stay in Lórien?” he inquired before he could stop himself.

Elladan did not flinch before his gaze but only smiled more sweetly. He curled his hand behind the captain's head and pulled him down until their foreheads touched.

“He knows I am yours, seron vell”-beloved-he whispered. “To my dying day, I am yours.”

He forestalled any response from his lover with a deep, molten kiss that heated their blood and spurred the wild need to couple their bodies as swiftly and completely as possible. It was not until much later that Glorfindel would recall the oddity of his last statement. For why would an immortal allude to a fate that, barring unforeseen circumstances, was not for the deathless to know?

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

Glossary:

Ringarë - Quenya for December

Geledhil - Tree-elves (sing. Galadhel)

To be continued…
- 12
- 13
- 14
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Twilight Tales - The Captain's Guerdon