Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

A Promise of Forever	By : redkiwi Category: +Second Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1566 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Tolkien's world (Silmarillion/Lord of the Rings/Hobbit), nor the characters from it. No money is made from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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The hour before dawn came quickly, and did so with a waning moon that was eclipsed with dark but delicate clouds that rolled past it in constant eastward streams. The winds had not died down, and the sea was choppy, with great rolling waves that crashed violently in constant lashings upon the battered shore. No ship would carry the travelers across the harbor south to Harlond, but it was not because of fear for the rough and violent sea. Their travel would be via the road to the east and then to the south, for Elrond and Erestor were to stop in Mithlond on their way to the southern city of Harlond. It was there that they had been asked by their King to drop off some correspondences to the Lord Cirdan.
Elrond had arrived at the eastern gate of Forlond before Erestor had, and although surrounded by the escort who would guard them on this journey, he waited in silence for the time of their departure. His wait found him standing beneath the gentle glow of the lanterns, and his mind slowly began to fill with the thoughts of what the day would have in store for him. His face was hidden in shadow from the hood of his cloak, and his grey eyes scanned the distance of the dark horizon before him.
In the darkness, the road that they would travel on this day could little be seen, but Elrond knew that it was long, and it cut through the beautiful landscape of Lindon. He had traveled this road before, but that had been many years ago. As he mused on the nature of travel, his heart beat a little faster with the anticipation of what was in store for him. Despite his dour mood, he couldn't help but smile.
His horse had already been saddled with his travel bags, but Elrond himself was not yet ready to leave behind his home. Despite the mild excitement that he had for journeying through the lands of Lindon, his heart ached to remain here, even though his mind told him otherwise. He doubted that staying would little change his predicament. There had been no promise made from Gil-galad as to what his definition of their relationship was, beyond the empty assurance that they would meet again. Elrond wasn't even sure what that entirely meant, but he little wanted for his mind to start wondering about it.
Elrond's grey eyes looked back towards the citadel, his mind still heavy with his troubling thoughts. He saw that Gil-galad's window was illuminated with the light of candles. The light spilled from the open windows, like glowing beacons over the countryside. Elrond wondered if Gil-galad was thinking about him, since he was just about to begin his journey to Harlond. Perhaps Gil-galad was standing on his balcony now, with his gaze on the eastern gate, whispering his words of blessings for their safety, to them below.
Elrond closed his eyes, as a strong breeze blew up the dust and the brown leaves of late autumn around him. He let his imagination run free, and in his mind he could see Gil-galad there, mouthing his caring words of blessings. On opening his eyes, the light that had once illuminated Gil-galad's windows was no more, fully extinguished. Only the darkness of this time before dawn was his to behold now.
“The hour before the dawn has came so quickly. It was as if the still of night had never settled on these lands.” Erestor made his presence known, pulling Elrond from his thoughts on Gil-galad.
“Indeed. It has, and I am ready to greet this new day and start our journey.” Elrond smiled as he gave his response to Erestor, grateful that his mind was back in the present and out of his obsessions.
Erestor, like Elrond, was draped in a long cloak of dark grey, but his hood was down. His long black hair was unbraided, and his grey eyes were expressionless. He neither smiled, nor frowned, and seemed to accept that the time for travel was neigh, with the indifference that he usually expressed to those around him. Elrond silently wondered just what thoughts were spinning within Erestor's mind, but he didn't bother asking his very private friend exactly what those thoughts could be. Instead, he mouthed a wordless smile back to Erestor.
He watched while Erestor saddled his horse, and neither one offered any sort of conversation to the other while Erestor completed this task. The guards who would be traveling with them, also kept their silence, as if the spell of the awakening dawn kept them within its enchanting lull. The silence that enveloped them this morning, didn't bother Elrond however, for he knew that the road that waited for them was long, and that there would be time enough for discussions and conversation with Erestor as they made their journey to Harlond.
They departed without any fanfare, for Farlond was hushed in this early morning wake. The eastern gate was empty, save for their party and the guards who were stationed here. The travelers passed under the heavy stones of the arched gate, veiled with climbing ivy. In this late time of autumn, the leaves of the ivy were awash in a vibrant reds and oranges. The gate was wide open in its emptiness, void of the travelers who usually filled its space. But soon Elrond knew that a steady flow of both elves and men would come, beseeching an audience with the High-King. Gil-galad would busy his day before countless others, and Elrond frowned at the thought. He wished that he too, could be at Gil-galad's side today, but this was not to be his fate.
The early morning air had a bitterly cold sting to it, and the strong wind continued to blow eastward from the sea and over the lands of Lindon. Both Elrond and Erestor wrapped their cloaks tightly around their bodies and impatiently waited for the warming rays of Anor. The sun had yet to completely cut through the early morning fog that stubbornly veiled the countryside. The sinuous streams of fog snaked around the sporadic trees, and above the path on which they road in whimsical progressions that seemed to beckon to Elrond. Eerily, the flow of fog seemed to call to him, vying for his full attention, but Elrond heeded the enchantment of the fog not. Despite the spectral landscape around him, the beauty of the land simply could not penetrate through to his mind. He was far too engrossed with his thoughts about Gil-galad, his mind still entertaining the notion that a whisper of love could still come forth from Gil-galad's lips. This was his one true wish, but it was also his one great torment.
As they rode further down the road that twisted ever more eastward, what once had been a landscape with trees that were sparse, now bloomed into a thick and full forest. Great trees of old age, with long twisting branches that bowed low to the ground, greeted them on both sides of the road. Most of the trees had already dropped their leaves, and their branches were twisted and bare. They contrasted greatly with the evergreens and pines that still flashed deep greens and were dark under the shadows of the clouds. The fog was even denser here, and the path was completely hidden to them beneath the fallen leaves of autumn and the thick fog that would not dissipate. The fog presented the road as rather dreary, and the lack of sunlight did little to brighten Elrond's mood.
Elrond mused about this early morning, and he felt as if the land had somehow found a way to personify his own mood. He was drained and gloomy, dejected even, and he wanted nothing more than to turn back his horse and return to Gil-galad's side. But he knew that this was not an option. Gil-galad's will was never to be denied, and he had pledged his full devotion to his King. Elrond had no choice but to travel to Harlond.
Even though the passing landscape that was transforming around him, and the intermittent sighting of the fellow weary traveler could have easily occupied his mind, Elrond could only focus on Gil-galad's actions and on his words. How long had he already thought and pondered about everything that had transpired between them? And yet, Elrond was not so sure what he truly believed, since he could not come to a definitive conclusion. Where just last night he was ready to give up on Gil-galad, now he felt determined to demand his King's affection. He wondered if the saying was true, if distance only made the heart grow fonder. Perhaps on his return, Gil-galad would have missed him so much that his arms would ache to hold him again. Elrond was able to smile at this thought, despite his troubled and wounded heart.
During the first few hours of their journey, neither Elrond nor Erestor had said much to one another beyond the general comment on the landscape, or on the relentless wind that refused to die down. Elrond’s mind was far too heavy for idle chatter since his thoughts could not move from Gil-galad, and Erestor seemed content with the silence. The want that Elrond had for Gil-galad was like a pull that he had never felt before within his life. Despite what he had told himself, he knew that he could simply not stop the love that he felt for Gil-galad.
Even though Erestor seemed content to pass this time in silence, his mind, however, wondered. He could sense the burden in Elrond’s mind, for it was plainly evident in his body language. He couldn't help but study his friend while they rode. Elrond’s shoulders were slumped, as if the weight of the world was suddenly resting on them. He wanted to speak with Elrond and ease his troubles, but he doubted that Elrond would want to discuss what troubled him whilst they travelled. Once they reached their destination, Erestor would have to ask Elrond what troubled him so.
The forest around them had finally woken, as the sun finally warmed the late morning. The fog had long since been chased away by the streams of sunlight and from the wind. The lazy sun cast whimsical shadows onto the forest floor, and the fowls of the forest sang their waning songs as they made their way ever southward, since winter was rapidly approaching these lands. The wind, still strong, continued its eastward journey, and carried within its streams the rich forest scents of the damp earth, and the pleasant aroma of crisp autumn leaves. The wind and leaves blew in streams of glorious symphonies, delighting whomever cared enough to listen to the melodic sounds.
Now that Anor had completely risen and had warmed the crisp autumn air in this seaward land near the Gulf of Lune, Elrond decided that conversation was what he wanted. The beauty of the land had roused him from his woeful thoughts, and he suddenly felt invigorated, jovial even. For the first time this day, Elrond truly smiled. He deeply breathed in the crisp autumn air and he let his mind clear before he brought his horse by Erestor's side.
Erestor eyed him for a second, before he smiled at Elrond's presence by his side. Elrond could see that within Erestor's deep grey eyes, that he was perceptive to conversation now. It was Elrond who started the conversation about lore. Elrond knew that Erestor would like this topic, since they both were ardently interested in it. To Elrond's dismay however, the discussion seemed laking, as if it were only just a ploy to pass the time in a mindless manner. This distraction simply wasn't working. Elrond’s troubles just could not be forgotten, even as he mildly argued with Erestor over philosophy.
“What about love?” Erestor suddenly asked, abruptly changing the subject. His eyes bore into Elrond, letting him know that he wanted to discuss this topic now.
A blush burned across Elrond's checks, and he tried to keep his composure when he heard Erestor's words. So his astute friend had sensed what was the cause of his disquiet as of late. Even if this was so, Elrond little cared to discuss the contents of his heart with even his good and caring friend. He shook his head, and smiled calmly back to Erestor, as he began to weave the attributes of love within their history.
“Love has indeed been the catalyst that has caused so much within our history. Yes, I would agree that love can be just as powerful as hate with causing the tides of change to come.”
Erestor smiled back to Elrond, but he shook his head. “No Elrond, I mean, has love left you troubled? Is it love that has caused these shadows to cloud your eyes these last few days?”
Elrond sighed, and he hoped that his eyes could hide the true extent of his sorrow. He closed them and breathed deep, before he spoke his response. “It is not because love that I am troubled.”
It was a lie, but it was all that he wished to say to Erestor about what burdoned him these days.
Erestor's knowing eyes conveyed back to Elrond that he was not convinced, but he didn't push him further on the subject. If Elrond wished to speak, he would, and Erestor was never one to push others to delve into what they did not wish to disclose. Again they fell into silence as their ride continued on the road to Mithlond.
As the hours of the day passed, the day was turning out to be rather beautiful, despite the chilliness that hung in the late autumn air with the relentless winds. Their ride had turned faster now, and they passed by many a traveller on the road between the two fiefdoms of Lindon. Elrond noted that more people were heading to Forlond than were going eastward, and he smiled at that thought. He didn't want to think of any political divides amongst his people, even though he knew that much descent grew amongst the tribes of the Eldar. Despite the passing of time into this new age, some hurts and wounds would never heal.
They stopped at mid-day for a meal when Anor was high above them. Here on the grassy shores of the gulf, they let their horses take rest and refresh, while they unpacked their meal. The water here was a rather deep blue that radiated out beyond the pale green shores where their little camp was made. The calls of the marine birds entertained them, while they ate and rested. Despite just how weary and dejected Elrond was, he couldn't help but marvel at the beautiful landscape around them, and his eyes watched the cranes as they dipped their heads beneath the water to pull out their own lunchtime meals.
It was not long after they had begun eating that the sounds of a song drifted down to them from further up the road. The singing voices, although distant, could easily be heard. The song was in Adunaic, a language that Elrond recognized and knew, and the melody matched the lamenting tone of the words that filtered down to them.
“…so dark was the night that came for me, for it will soon be in shadows that my eyes will see. Please soft be the hands that will reach for me, to pull me to where no breathing man can be…”
A group of men had come upon them, and they stilled their horses to gaze on the elven party. Elrond knew that they were Numenoreans, for their build was of power, and their eyes twinkled with wisdom. Now that the ships of Numenor sailed to their shores, these men could often be seen traveling within these lands. The encounter was not strange to Elrond, although his curiosity had been stirred. From the looks of the men, they had long been traveling, for the look of hunger shone within their eyes, and the trials of the road were etched upon their raged brows.
Elrond bade them sit amongst them and he offered them food. The men were ever grateful and accepted the invitation with smiles. They were genuinely friendly in their interactions. Both Erestor and Elrond listened to them speak about the wide world as they ate, while the guards kept their silent vigil on the lands around them. Elrond could hear within their conversation the subtle hints of their leaders' strong desires for what was beyond what had granted to them by the Valar. Ever hungry for power, the Men of Numenor sought lands beyond their own, and Elrond feared that they would one day take by any means necessary what it was that they desired.
“And to where does your path end?” One of the men asked Elrond. His voice was deep and gravely, his face was lined and weary with the long days of his travels.
“Yon, for our path goes further on to the east, and then to the southern reaches of Lindon.”
The man's tired eyes regarded him, and he nodded in solidarity when he heard Elrond's words. “Far have we travelled already, and long have we watched the moon grow in its phase. And yet still further do we go. But we are in good lands now, and our hearts grow less weary with each passing day. We are glad to make your acquaintance on this lonesome and sometimes treacherous road, dear Elven friends.”
The man spoke his words between sips from his flask. The brown liquid dripped onto his beard, and then trickled downward onto his already soiled shirt, but he seemed not to care. Elrond watched the liquid drizzle down, and he smiled, bemused by the carelessness of the man. Elrond's eyes were snapped back to attention however, when the man began to speak to him once more.
“The road we took was laden ever with the dangers of the wilds. Foul beasts challenged our way, but were quick to succumb to defeat. I would not say that your way will be without danger, but in these last few days, we traveled quickly without little hindrance. May too so goeth your travel, and may no trials come to find you, o friend of Men.”
Elrond nodded, accepting the man's blessing. “You are now in the lands of the High-King Ereinion. Take comfort in your journey, for you will find no ill-will here amongst our people.”
And Elrond bade the men a found farewell when the time to resume their travel was once again on them. It didn't take them long to pack, and once they had, they continued on the road to Mithlond. The distant song from the men lingered still in their perception.
“…for in the dark do all men fall, that long goodbye can ne'er be torn asunder. And gently will death's arms reach for me, pulling me forever into that unknown wonder…”
They continued on the road that cut through northern Lindon, and they rode quickly, for the wind blew from behind them on its eastward journey. The cries of the wind seemed to grow louder, and echoed from the mountains that rose up in the distance beyond them. Elrond let his mind fall into entertainment from the sounds that the rustling leaves and grasses made, and also from the almost melodic songs from the winds that seemed to push past him. The wind was like a beckoning push, enticing them to follow along its whimsical and rushed eastern dance.
After many more hours of travel that saw them wrapped within the cold wind, nightfall finally descended on the land. As the waning sun sunk beneath the horizon behind them, they decided to make camp, for the road was jutted with rocks, and they feared injury to their horses in the dark. They still had another day of travel before they would reach Mithlond, and they knew that their horses needed to rest and could no longer travel this day.
Their camp was made on the shores of the gulf, just south of the western most part where the Ered Luin began, just to the north of them. The ground that they sat on was rocky, and hardly a tree was around for them to rest under. But the shore reflected the awakening moon, and the gentle water that brushed against the rocks provided a soothing melody, making this area beautiful despite its starkness.
A small fire was built, and Elrond was glad to see that the night sky was not shrouded beneath dark clouds. As the night grew ever darker, the silver stars came out, and shone down their delicate light onto them. The howling winds had picked up with more intensity, and continued to swirl around them from all directions now.
Erestor and Elrond pulled their cloaks around their bodies, keeping the winds from stinging their skin with its biter cold. They sat before the fire, and although they had decided not to discuss their plan on how to address Galadriel and Celeborn, they spoke about what they expected to find once they arrived to their halls.
But soon, Elrond could see that Erestor grew weary of the topic that they spoke about, for he could see that the gleam of boredom grew within his eyes. Not wanting Erestor to change the conversation to that of him, Elrond offered to sing Erestor some songs to pass the night.
Erestor smiled at the words, receptive of the offer, and so Elrond began to sing. His voice was clear, and carried over the cries of the wind. There on the wind, the words of the song seemed to dance upon its crests, and echo over the rolling waters beside them.
“The shadows threaten my tranquility. They are always moving, winding around me, Leaving me in complete wonderment. One day, I would like to chase the shadows to the edges of the world. And see where it is that they go, To finally know if they really find the deepest crevices of the world. And as they go, they seem to call to me, Leaving their whispers upon my soul.
Upon my soul, what secrets slowly unwind. Upon my soul, I hear those whispers calling, Upon my soul, their laments will not fade away.
These shadows keep on rolling, And I would chase them still. But my soul just can not move, because my troubled heart will not let me. Instead I stay and watch the changing sky roll by me. I reach up to touch those clouds, but feel instead the cold window pane. The cold of this grey day blows upon my soul.
Upon my soul, the shadows swirl together Upon my soul, a touch so very gentle. Upon my soul, sad memories will never fade.
In darkness still the shadows call so strongly, I only smile, bound to my fate with them. what little I have, I cherish all these memories, For they shine bright despite the dark and cold around me. And I would call to the voices beyond those shadows, and expect to hear sweet answers from beyond. Yes, its them that I hear, now crying clearly to me. They drop their bitter tears upon my soul.
Upon my soul, rest now comes to me, Upon my soul, the deepest troubles flee, Upon my soul, I will find peace tonight, Upon my soul.“
His voice carried as almost a lullaby, for during the song, Erestor's eyes had succumbed to the pulls of slumber. Even Elrond could feel the tugs of sleep, but he fought it off. The guards had their backs turned to him, but Elrond knew that they kept their watch as was their duty. Even though he was free to rest this night, little did he want to. Elrond stopped singing, and he settled down onto the rocky ground with his eyes uplifted to the star-filled sky.
While he star-gazed, he found a strange calmness envelope him, and he was strangely at ease within the dark night around him. Even though the winds howled with their haunted wailing, and the waves crashed mightily against the rocks of the shore, Elrond's mind was in peace and did not linger on Gil-galad, and Erestor's slumber was not disturbed. By now, the fire they had built had long since died down. Not even the ashes glowed any longer, and the scent of the fire had been blown away within the streams of the wind.
The night passed them quickly, it seemed, and luckily, without incident. Only the howling of the wind, and the ever blowing leaves encroached onto their space where they rested. Just before dawn broke, the party was packed, for there was just enough light for the guards to recognize their surroundings and allow them to pass in safety. Their horses were now rested, and they did not want to delay their travel anymore.
Just as yesterday had greeted them, a thick fog hung over the land, but unlike yesterday, there were no trees in which to gaze on as they rode. The lands south of the Blue Mountains were rocky, but the road was flat, even though it was hidden beneath the blanket of fog. Even though the guards knew this route well, they did not chance pushing the horses, for the winds were just as strong as yesterday's had been, and pushed the rolling fogs around them, obscuring any new dangers that may have marred the road.
The morning found them enveloped within the fog and wind, and also in silence. They rode slow, and the wide road was theirs alone. But as the day continued, and the fog had cleared, they pushed their horses a little harder, since they wanted to reach Mithlond before the night would grow too old. They knew that night would descend quickly in these late autumn days, and the daylight was precious to them.
While they stopped at mid-day, just like the day before, now it was only to let their horses pause and to take water, but the elves did not eat.
Here on the road that was now east of the Ered Luin, hardly any traveler passed them by. It had been hours since they had last seen anyone else on the road. Elrond thought not much of it, for his mind only focused on their own travel, and if they would reach Mithlond before the day would end. So engrossed was he with his thoughts of their travel, Elrond did not even think of Gil-galad this day.
Their pace was quicker than yesterday had been, and because of how hard they rode, conversation could not be had. The hours rolled by as the swirling wind cut into their faces and blew their hair and cloaks around their bodies. Leaves and dust streamed by them within the crests of the wind, and the sounds of the constant crashing waves of the gulf's waters could be heard over the cries of the wind.
By the time evening arrived, they knew that they would not reach Mithlond until late into the night. Even though the day's light was waning, and the eventide was approaching, they decided to press forward. It was pointless to make so camp so close to their destination, and Elrond whispered gentle words to his steed, thanking him for the long day's ride.
Ithil hung high in the sky by the time they had reached the elvish settlement of Mithlond. Although an important port and harbor to the Eldar, the population of Mithlond was sparse, and nothing seemed to stir here. The guards at the outer gate of the settlement did not hinder their entrance, but only glanced at them with curiosity and with a certain tired cordiality.
As they got further into the settlement, Elrond noticed that the streets were empty and dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of the moonlight above them. Little could he discern of the settlement, and although he had been here before, the darkness that covered the town seemed to distort it beyond his memory. If not for the wailing of the winds, Mithlond would have slept in complete silence this night.
Even though Mithlond slept under the night's dark mantle, Elrond could remember just which streets to take to reach Cirdan's halls. Elrond and Erestor turned left in the darkness towards the citadel, just after their horses had been taken to the stables for rest by their guards. Only the reflection of the moon greeted them on the empty streets, but Elrond and Erestor did not mind the absence of people to greet them. The bitter bite of the cold night wind made them little want to linger on the streets. They pressed forward, eager to arrive to Cirdan's halls, and eager to find reprieve from the cold wind that had hindered them for the last two days of the their travel.
The unassuming building where Cirdan dwelled was just within their sites, and they pushed harder through the unrelenting streams of wind that seemed like it wanted to push them back. Two guards were posted at the door, and they welcomed them, inviting them inside the warm building with bright and shining faces.
Within the halls, lanterns were lit that presented the citadel as warm and inviting. A few elves were present to greet them, although Cirdan was not one of them. They greeted the travelers with kindness, showing them to rooms where they would stay the night. Before Elrond and Erestor left to unpack their things and refresh within their rooms, they were told that Cirdan had invited them to dinner, even though they had arrived after the evening meal. But Cirdan had waited to dine with them, eager to hear what had brought them to Mithlond.
Once Elrond and Erestor had cleaned themselves from the dust of the road, they found their way to the dining hall. The room was built with white stones, and long tapestries hung on the walls. The strong glow of candles lit the room, and a long table was set with food and drink for them. Cirdan and just one servant was waiting for them within the room, and Cirdan smiled to them when they had entered.
“My greetings, dear friends.” Cirdan gladly received Elrond and Erestor to his halls. “While I had heard that you would find your way to Harlond, I did not think that your path would lead to me. But our scouts spotted you on the western pass, and so we prepared for your visit. I am glad to see your faces again, for it has been far too long.”
Elrond smiled at the greeting, and he regarded Cirdan. Jovial but ever grave, Cirdan's eyes still reflected the waning stars, but the worry of his mind was etched across his brows as deep lines. Both old and ageless was his face, and his silver hair shone under the candlelight.
“Gil-galad has asked for your advice and has requested your presence.” Elrond presented the correspondences to Cirdan that Gil-galad has asked him to deliver.
“Yes, this is suspected now that the winds of change distort our landscape.” Cirdan briefly looked at the letters, still folded and sealed under the wax seal of Gil-galad. He did not open the letters, but instead set them upon the table where he seated himself.
“Gil-galad worries about the whispers that are filtering back to him.” Elrond stated as he too seated himself down. Before him was a plate of delicious and enticing food, and with a hunger he did not know he had, he began to eat. Delightful flavors burst upon his tongue and he savored what he ate.
Cirdan took a long drink from his goblet, and he nodded before he spoke. “This is understandable. I too know that our allies depart to the east. There is no stopping what has been set in motion now.”
Cirdan paused, and his thoughts seemed to drift beyond the time of now, to that of a future that was far beyond the unknown spans of time.
“What has been set in motion may very well bring an end to this watchful peace. I feel the shift in the winds.” Cirdan sighed, his deep eyes gleamed over and became darker, as if their lights had been diminished.
“Do we fracture beyond recourse?” Erestor asked, voice heavy under his concern.
“No, I do not think that this fate will come to pass, despite the distance that will come to find us. I truly believe that we will remain connected. Even in the rise and fall of all that we have made, none will escape the fate of what happens to our brethren. What happens to one, will impact all, even to those who willingly hide themselves away.”
Cirdan's cryptic words were ominous, and Elrond scarce could grasp just what his words entirely meant. But still a dread flooded his heart, and he wondered just what trials would come to find them once more.
He wondered over Cirdan's darkening gaze, and Elrond's heart felt great sadness for the ancient one before him. Elrond could see the sea-longing that shone through Cirdan's eyes. But Elrond also knew of the oath that Cirdan had made to the Valar, so long ago, and the sorrow of his loyalty radiated forth from his fae. The gift that Cirdan had been granted came with the heaviest of prices. His purpose had not yet been fulfilled, so here in the woeful lands of Arda, would he remain.
“I will go to Gil-galad, and will join with you on your return journey. Pass back this way when you return, for I will travel back with you. I want to know if what it is that I have been shown, will indeed come to pass.”
“Look for us before a fortnight, for not long will our journey be.”
Cirdan nodded at Elrond's words, evidently pleased. “You will meet with Galadriel and Celeborn. Bring them my greetings and my blessings, for I do not think that I will see them before they pass into the east.”
“We will do these things you ask of us.” Erestor responded, while Elrond nodded his agreement.
“And Oropher….” Cirdan now moved the topic to someone else, and his expression flashed with a darkening mood, as his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed.
“He will pass beyond all connection to us, far into the wilds he will diminish. Gil-galad has accepted that he is lost to us forever.” Elrond interjected.
Cirdan closed his eyes as he thought about his response. “No, for even though the path to Oropher will grow ever further, it is not yet veiled to us. Nor do I think that it ever will be. A single thread will bind us to him, and I have little doubt that this thread will fray.”
“That may be so, but it is Celeborn and Galadriel that troubles our High-King the most, and that is why we make our way to them.” Elrond responded.
“What even is the point of our meddling?” Erestor grumbled, his displeasure regarding this whole situation plainly evident. His plate sat before him untouched, and he poured himself another glass of wine. “So they all go, and I can tell you why. It is power that the Lady craves, and Gil-galad knows that her want is for her own crown. Perhaps her name will never be Queen, but that is her aim indeed. I am little sure just what else we could possibly come to know from our time in Harlond.”
“The thirst for power and knowledge-far is a mighty force that can cloud even the mightiest, reducing them to madness. But this is not Galadriel's fate to fall into. That fall will come to others, although their faces are covered in shadows. I can not clearly see who they are in my visions.” Cirdan responded to Erestor's words.
“But what does Galadriel seek, if not her own lands?” Elrond asked.
“She must pass into the east where she is needed now. There will come a time where her eyes are needed there. I only hope that those who need to hear her words the most, are perceptive to what it is she has to say.” Cirdan paused, before he continued. “A desire of lands may drive her to the east, but there is ever more at play here. She is perceptive enough to understand what fate would have in store for us. She goes forth because she must.”
Cirdan motioned for the server to bring another bottle of wine, and once it was brought, he refilled Elrond and Erestor's goblets before he poured his own. Long he drank the strong wine before he spoke again.
“These things that we speak off will become clearer as the years go on. For now, I can only see the future in distorted fragments. But even as so, their impressions cause great worry to settle in my mind. I can not still the disquiet that is slowly building, even though I understand it not.”
Cirdan said no more, and he closed his eyes as if he had drifted off with those thoughts that he alluded to. It was evident to all that dinner was over, but yet the three continued to linger at the table, even after their plates had been taken, and the lone server returned no more. Still they sat, and their minds were heavy from the words that Cirdan had said, even as Elrond and Erestor made small talk amongst themselves.
In the pause of their conversation, the wind could still be heard. It was howling and it caused the branches of the trees to beat upon the windows, but even so, it could not break through the thoughts that held the three in its grasp. But it was now late in the night, and Cirdan finally took his leave, for the time for Erestor and Elrond to leave was growing nearer, and they both needed to rest their minds and bodies before they set off.
Elrond bade Erestor a goodnight and beseeched that he try to get some sleep. He knew he would find none for himself, and he walked quickly through the halls to the room that he had been given. Elrond entered into the candlelit room eager for a reprieve from all thoughts and worries. Even though he had not desired sleep, his mind seemed to grow heavy with the fog of slumber. The bed seemed to beckon him to it, and sleep was strangely calling for him.
Whispers seemed to pull him into slumber, and having not the will to fight what reached for him, Elrond could do no other but drift into the world of dreams. The draw of sleep enveloped him, warm and comforting just like Gil-galad's arms had been when he had made love to him. Elrond fully surrounded to the strange sensations that had flooded through his body, even before his head had settled against the soft pillow and blankets. And in his dream, he found himself within Gil-galad's arms, and he was once again held tightly and lovingly.
Gentle movements of fingers traced their loving care down his body and over him, like the waves of the warm summer sea; comforting, amorous, and sublime they rolled over him in their gentle ripples. Gil-galad's dulcet voice pulled him to ease and called for him to surrender to his will, and Elrond gladly did. His arousal flamed alive with the continuous spell of words that wove into his ears and through his very core, enticing him, binding him to the other. Gil-galad was calling to his soul, and Elrond wanted to do no other but answer that voice.
Kisses like the gentle sea mist washed over him, and Elrond felt as if he were floating on the waves of pure euphoria, rippling far out into the sea. There he floated away from Gil-galad, and he was far atop the rolling white foam from the waves. His body was flooded with the warm and gentle ripples of the sea, as he rose high upon the crests. Up and down his body drifted away, with only the rolling sea around him.
But still that voice called out to him, beckoning for him to ripple right back into his tender embrace. And now it was not the sea that he was floating upon, but instead he was wrapped within the warm embrace of Gil-galad once more. The embrace was ever more soothing, ever more assuring with his growing affection, osculating like the full emotions of knowing what the truest nature of love actually was.
Fingers glided down his body: washing over the planes of his torso, circling around the awakening bud of his nipple, and through the tendrils of his hair. Over him, those fingers danced, flowing with their desire and passion, pulling from him such sweet sensations. His mouth opened slightly, and he exhaled in a moan. Lustful, unabashed, delectable the sound escaped, lured by the masterful touch that washed over his body, like the forceful flowing of the sea that danced over him.
Those lips that had called out his name with such want and reverence, were now wrapped around his arousal, engulfing it with the sweetest of heat and delighting him with the sweetest of friction. Up and down, that silver tongue drew him further and further into the warm waters of the rolling waves, building within him a mounting fervor.
Elrond reached his arms out to his lover, who pulled him down into the dance of his embrace. His body was awash with such pleasure and passion as he wove with Gil-galad beneath the swirling waves above them. The pleasure he was feeling consumed him and caused his heart to swell with the beats of his emotions. Gil-galad had wound behind him, and had breached him. Forcefully he pounded into his body, and Elrond rode each wave of pleasure that was flowing through his body. It was beyond the greatest of sensations that he had ever felt, and he could feel his orgasm building, swelling, just like the great crests of the waves that swept over them.
But now it was not the waves of the sea that were washing over him, but it was instead the ripples of his release. His orgasm was ripped forth, invoking and flowing through him like the madness that had overwhelmed him. Elrond cried out the name of his lover, as his body burned with ecstasy. The sounds of that name echoed within the darkness of his room…
For he was awake now, and the foggy haze of his dream had vanished, leaving him haunted with his desires, and twisted within the blankets of his bed. His clothes were soiled with his release, and with a frown, he disrobed from those clothes and washed himself.
The bright night moon still shone down over Mithlond, for the dawn had not yet come. Elrond was left with the bitterest of knowing that his elation had only been but a dream. Where once he had been content and assured in the warm embrace of love, now only the empty uncertainty of his reality held him tightly within its throes. Where Elrond would usually thank the Valar for granting him such vivid dreams, now he cursed their cruel trick on him. What was even the point of love, if it could be returned back with such cold indifference?
The lingering fog had returned in the night, and it hung over the seaward lands of Lindon, but Elrond cared not to fall back into slumber. He did not need sleep if the nature of his dreams were only meant to haunt him upon waking. He dressed for their early morning departure, although that time was still hours away. But the simple act of keeping busy usually engaged Elrond's mind away from worry, and he yearned for such reprieve.
Beyond the still walls of Cirdan's halls, Elrond stepped into the raging winds that refused to pass over these lands. He frowned at the bitter bite of the cold winds, because he knew that if the winds did not relent, their travel would be tiresome this day. His mood just wasn't ready to face another difficult day of travel. But the way in which the wind blew was to be expected during these late autumn months within the lands of Lindon.
It was as if in dream that Elrond walked along the raging shores. Large jagged rocks jutted around him, the ripples of the gulf pulsed against the rocks. He climbed onto one of the large boulders, and he stood and faced the winds that carried the mist of the water that blew around him. His head went back and his arms opened up, as if he were trying to conjure up a storm. Just like his thoughts that were twisted and swirling, the winds roared around him and Elrond gladly lost himself within the sensations that rushed over him.
He could feel the wind caress his skin, and the mist elicited sensations that enticed him and caused his soul to swell. It was almost as if he were being transported back into his dream. Although he did not want to recall the images and feelings that had washed over him in his dream, his heart just would not let them go. He felt defeated, and opened his eyes to the night covered land around him. Disenchanted Elrond turned from the gulf, and continued on his walk.
His mind was numb, and his body little registered the chill the gripped the land. The cold dark night had left the land under a frost, but he did not hear the crinkling of the breaking icy ground beneath his feet. It was only his heart that pounded with the bittersweet feelings that was able to register to him. He would have liked to push those feelings aside, but Elrond feared locking up his emotions. Even though he could not stop his heart from yearning for a love that he did not know if he would have again, Elrond could smile at the waves that gently brushed upon the shore. The simple pleasures of the land could little pull his attention from Gil-galad, but he wasn't entirely blind to the beauty that was around him.
Here, at the eastern most part of the Gulf of Lune, the waters were like a gentle pool. Even though the wind washed over them, the ripples were gentle, like the smooth glide of a delicate touch over the water's surface. The water was dark, and reflected Ithil's light. In silver strokes, the reflected light danced on the obsidian glass of the water, casting its long impression.
Elrond passed the early hours of this new day in silence, enveloped within the darkness before the dawn. No one in Mithlond stirred behind closed door, and not a traveler passed in or out of the city's closed gate. The landscape lay under the dark mantle of night, and the moon and stars were now clouded over. It was only the cries of the wind, mighty and terrible, that alone stirred across these slumbering lands.
If all went well, they would reach the gates of Harlond within two days time. He figured that it would actually be late within the night in which they would finally knock upon the southern city's gates. At any rate, they had a very long day of travel ahead of them, and for that, Elrond was little excited for this day to start.
Long idle eyes wished the troubled night a silent goodbye, for the time to depart Mithlond was neigh. The new day was dawning, and soon the western road that would lead to Harlond would open up to him. Elrond sighed aloud to the crying winds alone.
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The Tori Amos song "Pandora's Aquarium" inspired the dream sequence in this chapter.
Not beta read and sorry for the errors
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A Promise of Forever