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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 IV

Tuilë TA 1630

“I marvel at your patience, brother,” Elrohir murmured as he dismounted. His glance shifted from his twin to the golden-haired Elf who captained their troop. “‘Tis been nigh five hundred years and still you linger at the crossroads. When will you weary of waiting?”

Shaking his head, Elladan took his pack down from his steed before replying. “If needs be, another five hundred years. He contents me enough.”

The Elf-knight regarded his brother with a mixture of affection and exasperation. “Aye, he contents you,” he agreed. “You have touched no other since that night. But you cannot say the same of him for he has hardly kept himself exclusive to you. How can you stand for that, Elladan? I would not.”

Elldan sighed. The issue at hand was not new. He and Elrohir had debated it periodically over the last five centuries. The younger twin had not reconciled himself to the nature of his brother’s relationship with Rivendell’s captain, oft pointing out that one could only apply the term in the loosest sense.

“I content him, Elrohir,” he said patiently, knowing the other would not be able to accept his explanation now anymore than he had in all the years that had passed. “Else I would have ceased to share his bed long ago. If he turns to others on occasion, ‘tis not because there is something lacking in what I give him but because he fears that there is nothing he can find wanting when he is with me.” Ignoring Elrohir’s skeptical snort, he took his twin’s arm and tugged him along. “‘Tis not that he cannot love me; ‘tis that he once loved and he can only recall the pain it wrought him. When the shields around his heart begin to fall is when he is most afraid and thus tries to run from me. To keep himself safe.”

It was Elrohir’s turn to sigh. “I wish I could be as confident about his intentions as you, gwaniuar”—older twin—he said. “Fearsome though you are in battle, in truth you are a tender heart and I do not care to see you hurt or embittered.” He placed a hand on his twin’s shoulder, momentarily stopping him. “I do not think ill of Glorfindel – a damaged soul oft does not recognize its folly. But I heartily wish that he would face whatever it is that keeps him from accepting that ‘tis futile to fight his heart’s desire.”

Elladan said no more but only nodded and walked on. The brethren joined the rest of the troop. They were out on patrol on the easternmost bounds of what constituted Rivendell’s area of responsibility. Within a day’s ride of the Misty Mountains.

So many events had unfolded in the past several centuries. Events that had led to the necessity of constant watchfulness and oftentimes active defense of the valley realm and its surrounding communities. The three kingdoms of divided Arnor had diminished alarmingly – Rhudaur fallen into evil hands, Cardolan ravaged by invasion and Arthedain under constant siege. In the south, Gondor had long been riven by kinstrife and civil war then further plagued by war upon its southern borders. Peoples of all races – Men, Dwarves and a strange little folk who called themselves Hobbits – moved restlessly across the land, seeking safer territory if there was any to be had. And the foul abominations that were the Witch-king of Angmar, the Nazgûl and their thralls continued their encroachment upon the holdings of the Dúnedain of the North.

The Elves had given aid when and where possible even as they withstood a spate of incursions into their own lands. Rivendell had been besieged at one point though the Imladrin Elves swiftly repelled the invaders and secured their valley realm once more. But the Firstborn’s numbers were much diminished even amongst Mirkwood’s Silvan populace and Lindon’s sea-faring folk. Gathered together, they were still a force to contend with – the combined might of Rivendell, Lindon and Lothlórien subdued Angmar for a time and the north had a spell of quiet if not outright peace – but they also knew that, unless the Men of the north united and joined with them, even the Elves’ strength would not be enough to wholly defeat the evil of Angmar. And so they increased their vigilance and extended the boundaries of the lands they swore to protect.

Perhaps the elven realms most oft drawn into the conflicts of their mortal neighbors were Rivendell and Mirkwood due to their central locations relative to the sources of said conflict. Both had more than their fair share of encounters with marauding orcs and human brigands whose boldness grew as the might of the northern kingdoms waned and the power of Angmar continued to wax.

Raids by a large band of outlaws on hapless villages and hamlets to the north of Imladris had necessitated Elrond’s intervention. Hence the troop of Elven warriors that had hastened forth to the humans’ aid. The Elves had tracked the band, hunted the ruffians down and finally engaged them in a brutal fight just a few leagues from where the Elves were now encamped. No brigand had survived the melee – the Elves preferred to spare life whenever possible but these hardened men had fought back with vicious fervor, refusing to be taken alive.

Their task done, the Elves then took a circuitous route back to Rivendell for Glorfindel wanted to ascertain the presence of miscreant activity, or lack thereof, in the surrounding region. Better to delay their return and safeguard the area than to head for home in haste only to be summoned anew soon after.

When evening fell on their last day on patrol, the captain gave orders to set up camp in a small glade out of sight of the narrow road oft used by travellers in these remote parts. Morning would see them at last on their way back to the valley. Sentries took up their positions for the night while the rest gathered around the fires in quiet conversation or in readiness for repose. Glorfindel, however, settled himself beneath the eaves of a great tree, keeping to himself as was his wont when deep in thought.

Elladan watched his lover, waiting out the warrior’s pensive mood. He had come to recognize these moments when Glorfindel would brook no interruptions to his musings, not even from the older twin. He sometimes wondered what melancholic thoughts troubled the warrior at these times but Glorfindel kept these to himself with fierce secrecy. There had been no small number of altercations in the past over this and Elladan had decided that he would rather await Glorfindel’s willing revelations than have to pry them out of the captain piecemeal to the strains of a rancorous exchange.

At length, Glorfindel lifted his head and met Elladan’s gaze. His crystalline eyes glittered in the dim light. He tilted his head in the direction of a thicket some distance behind the brethren’s position. Elladan gave a slight nod then looked at his twin in silent entreaty. Elrohir simply murmured: “Go. You will not be disturbed.”

Elladan gave a slight squeeze to his brother’s hand then rose and slipped away without a sound. Elrohir did not watch him leave but only spared a quick glance at Glorfindel. The captain was already gone. The Elf-knight shook his head and set himself to guarding their privacy. It would be a while before the others noticed their absence.

********

Elladan gasped as he was summarily breached, Glorfindel’s rigid flesh spearing him to the hilt. He steadied himself on his elbows and knees, bracing his body for the onslaught that was to follow. It came swiftly, the spate of deep, driving thrusts that never failed to set him on the path to blissful completion. He clenched his fists, gripping the thick wool of the cloak beneath him, and concentrated as well as he could on pushing back against Glorfindel, further heightening their shared pleasure.

It was almost always thus between them when they coupled. Wild and rough and eminently satisfying. This was not to say that they did not engage in gentler joinings or that such occasions were less passionate. But given a choice they tended to favor more elemental love-play. It simply was their nature.

He felt Glorfindel’s powerful hand push his hair aside, baring the back of his neck then reach down to curl over his left fist, compelling him to unclench it. The captain’s long fingers wove with his own, an intimate gesture that Elladan had long discovered was reserved for him and him alone. Indeed, there were many such gestures that Glorfindel bestowed only on him. Evidence of the warrior’s singular regard even if he did not say it or for that matter define the nature or depth of it.

He smothered a cry when he felt himself cupped and fondled then stroked, each firm caress accompanied by a hard thrust. It swiftly brought him to the brink of completion. He tightened his hold on Glorfindel’s hand, felt the reciprocal squeeze of his. Warm lips pressed against his nape and the side of his throat then wandered down to the crook of his neck. He hissed when Glorfindel sucked his skin hard enough to leave a mark. That coupled with the steady caress of his shaft and the continued delving of his core sent him over the precipice and he shuddered with the force of his climax, groaning out his lover’s name. Glorfindel soon followed him into ecstasy and he felt the spurt of warm seed fill him.

He would have collapsed then, his limbs suddenly weak and yielding. But Glorfindel gently withdrew and, lying on his back, rolled him over so that he could lay his head on his chest. They took a few moments to recover their breaths, permitting themselves this brief respite from constant vigilance. At length, Elladan raised his head and looked at Glorfindel, eyes heavy lidded with satiation, a lazy smile curling his lips.

“I had thought you would forego this until we returned home,” he murmured, leaning to brush his lips against Glorfindel’s mouth.

Glorfindel’s eyes sparkled with renewed lust. “That is hardly possible with one such as you luring me on,” he huskily replied. He snaked a hand behind the twin’s nape to pull him into a scorching kiss. Elladan knew himself in for another rabid breaching of a passion that was solely theirs.

It was because of this that he had remained steadfast in his devotion to Glorfindel through the years. Despite the uncertainty of the warrior’s commitment to him. Notwithstanding his inconstancy insofar as bed-play was concerned. In spite of his reluctance to voice his feelings and the snail’s pace at which he meted out information about his past. It had confounded many, including Elrond and Celebrían, when Elladan had not broken off relations with Glorfindel upon learning of his continued trysts with others and even more when he allowed none to speak ill of him in his presence.

Their affair had not long remained a secret but few fully understood it. Mayhap in all Imladris only Elrohir had a good inkling of what truly transpired between his brother and Glorfindel. Yet even he was not privy to everything and much that he knew he gleaned through his close bond with Elladan. For the older twin guarded what he knew of his lover’s secrets as assiduously as Glorfindel did. Still, if there was one matter that could prove a bone of contention between the twins it was Glorfindel’s failure to return Elladan’s devotion in like degree. But Elrohir knew even as he voiced his concerns that his brother would stand by his lover.

He knew that Elladan did not seek open avowals of devotion to tell him Glorfindel felt thusly toward him. Not just yet. The captain, while reticent in such pronouncements, was effusive if subtly so in other expressions of his feelings toward the older twin.

With no other warrior was he as strict and harsh a mentor, sometimes to the point of nigh humiliating Elladan or exhausting him almost beyond bearing. To any unaware of what existed between the two, it would seem that the Imladrin captain nursed either a hatred or contempt of Elrond’s older son. But in truth, if he was overzealous in Elladan’s training, it was out of protectiveness toward him. A need to ensure that the twin would always be prepared and able to ward off harm. He wanted Elladan to be as safe as a soldier could possibly be and worked him vigorously as a result.

With no other friend did he spend as much time indulging in trivial or leisurely pursuits as he did with Elladan. Or for that matter agreeing to participate in them in the first place. Where he would accompany Elrond’s family on picnics by the Bruinen out of his sense of duty to his lord, the same pastime when organized by Elladan was indulged in out of true enjoyment of the activity. He now spent long evenings in the Hall of Fire with the older twin as they sat in some cozy couch whilst listening to song and poetry. And he no longer held aloof from the occasional buffoonery amongst the less sedate Elves of the valley but would even call out his appreciation of some particularly humorous tableau. It did not escape anyone’s eyes that he was more apt to behave thusly when he had Elladan at his side.

With no other lover did he maintain so long a liaison – one spanning centuries rather than the mere fortnight of yore – and show that lover a passion heretofore carefully doled out with all his other partners. One did not need to actually witness one of their couplings to know that this was so. The evidence of it lay in their day-to-day behavior toward each other. Not that they ever engaged in flagrant behavior in public – Glorfindel was adamant about that and no kiss or caress or embrace ever passed between them when others were present. But no one could miss the sudden smoldering of desire that would spark in their eyes with no more than a chance glance across a chamber or the knowing way they would appraise each other that would usually lead to a quiet exit from wherever they happened to be. Even their choice of raiment or the way they carried themselves told the tale. Inappropriately high collars on warm mornings obviously hid myriad delightful sins. Loose tunics suddenly donned in the middle of the day following a private but all too brief encounter between the two pointed to a still unfulfilled need. And Elrond had been known to raise an eyebrow in wry reaction when his older son could not seem to remain comfortably seated during lengthy meetings – there could be no other reason but that said meeting had been inconveniently scheduled after a particularly eventful night.

Elrohir knew all these and fervently hoped that his twin’s remarkable patience would not be in vain; did his utmost to banish his unease and displeasure for Elladan’s sake. And if and when he felt his frustration well up within him on behalf of his brother, that self-same brother would remind him of what Glorfindel had endured in two lives and the manner of his passage from one into the other.

He did not recall the actual agony of his dying itself. No Elf could go through so horrific a death, remember it in detail and still stay sane. Such memories had been carefully filtered – a part of the healing he’d received within the Halls of Awaiting. No vivid scars from that fiery encounter marred his body; no nightmares of searing pain disturbed his sleep. But the fear he did recall and the knowledge of suffering – not enough to debilitate him but more than enough to convince him that he could not withstand such an experience again.

It was the same for every event he had ever known in his first life, both the good and the bad. The memories were such that he knew enough to decide if he wished to repeat an experience; if he could bear it. Most of the time, his decisions were sound. But not always.

He did not turn from his vocation as a warrior – his recollection of duty and honor coupled with the elation that stemmed from the charge into battle were enough to overcome any anxiety he may have harbored from the knowledge of the possible consequences of combat. He did not cease to be the kind and happy being he was at heart; he chose not to dwell on the tragedies and torments that could lead any sentient creature down the path to despair, bitterness and anger. But there were some memories that he could not simply set aside; memories that still ruled his choices to this day be they for good or ill.

Foremost was his reluctance to chance his heart once more. The memory of hurt, confusion and loss in his first and only venture in this arena was so powerful that it inspired as much alarm in him as the warning blasts of the sentries’ horns when the hordes of Morgoth descended upon Gondolin. With Elladan he knew once again the irresistible clamor of the body for union, the yearning for companionship that went beyond the camaraderie of friends and the constant tug of kindred spirits towards each other. But he also knew all over again the fears that went hand in hand with such feelings.

The fear of being entrusted with someone’s heart, deserved or not, and mayhap being the reason for its breaking. The fear of betrayal should one not fulfill the expectations of the other. The fear of giving of one’s self completely only to lose the very one upon whom such giving had been bestowed. He had known all these terrors once upon a time. Had believed when they had been hurdled that faith and perseverance would be rewarded. But the fall of the hidden city and the loss of all that he had held close to his heart had shattered this belief.

Small wonder that he shied from knowing the grief again. It as well as his other grievous remembrances had been muted by his centuries long stay in the timeless halls. He had been able to continue with life upon rebirth because of the gentling of those memories. He did not feel he could bear them if he were to know them in all their untempered force.

He was fortunate that Elladan comprehended this to a certain extent despite his refusal to share his deepest fears. In granting him the affection of one who could see deeply into his heart and soul without being told what lay within – and accept him nonetheless, flaws and all – fate was kind to him in this second life though he did not realize it just yet.

These thoughts crowded Elrohir’s mind as well while he awaited the pair’s return. As he had told Elladan, he harbored no ill will toward Glorfindel and indeed held him in highest esteem. But he did fret about the warrior’s inability to commit himself wholly to Elladan. And he worried about the effects of such a protracted undefined liaison on his brother.

Elladan had always been the more amenable of the twins; the more forbearing; the more politically adept. Such virtues suited a lord of a realm and Elladan Elrond’s heir exhibited all the makings of an exemplary one. As long as he trusted to his incisive wits. The problem began when he let his heart rule him. The Elf-knight had noticed that, in his pursuit of the golden-haired warrior, his brother oft-times catered too fervently to Glorfindel’s needs at the expense of his own. In doing so, he would suppress his own masterful personality, thereby placing him in danger of losing what made him so uniquely Elladan.

Elrohir bristled at the idea. Well, that was not to be borne if he had anything to say about it.

The Elf-warriors save for the sentries were in various postures of repose when Glorfindel and Elladan came back to the camp. Their return was duly noted by all but none dared comment on the reason for their leaving in the first place. Glorfindel was a benevolent leader who smiled more often than he scowled. But when his ire was aroused it was best to beware. And most had learned long ago that the surest way to ignite his temper was to demean his relationship with Elladan and Elladan himself even in playful jest.

Elrohir watched as the two spoke briefly, Glorfindel shaking his head slightly, Elladan nodding in obvious resignation. He pushed himself up on one arm as Elladan parted from Glorfindel and came to quietly lie down by his side. The Elf-knight looked at him pointedly while the older twin started to draw his cloak about his long frame. Elladan returned the look with a questioning stare.

“Why do look at me thusly, brother?” he inquired.

“I am wondering why you are preparing to spend the night at my side when you should be at his,” Elrohir said tartly.

“We are on patrol,” Elladan pointed out. “‘Twould be unseemly.”

“Ah, and rutting in some secluded grove is not?” Elrohir snorted. “Why hide it, Elladan? Why the pretense? ‘Tis not as if the others do not know where you have been or what you were doing.”

“What has upset you so?” Elladan asked curiously.

His brother sighed and reclined once more. Staring up at the glimmering firmament, he said: “Your willingness to abide his wishes even when they do not please you.” Elladan’s slight but sharp inhalation told him he had uncovered the truth. “You long to be by him. To lie as lovers do, pressed together in affection and desire. Yet you forego your own need to answer his.” He turned his head and gazed at his brother. “You are no simpering maiden or dullard of an Elf to coddle him so cravenly. You are Elrond’s first-born and future lord of Imladris and one I will gladly serve when the day comes.” He jerked his chin in the golden captain’s direction. “Now go to him and claim your rightful place, gwaniuar. If he indeed esteems you as you claim, that place is at his side should you desire it.” His argent gaze narrowed. “Unless you are not truly certain of his regard,” he added.

Elladan stared at him then glanced over at Glorfindel where he lay alone at the periphery of the camp. The warrior was reclining on his side, supported by one arm, silently gazing at the dancing flames of the campfire nearest him. Elladan looked back at his brother and saw that his stern mien had been replaced by an encouraging one.

“Just because he declined the first time does not mean he will refuse you if you insist,” he said. “Are you not the one who always says he speaks most eloquently with his actions? Why not answer him in kind?”

Elladan considered his words then smiled as he comprehended his twin’s love and concern. “Whatever would I do without you, tôr neth?”— younger brother?—he remarked.

“Oh, you’d manage,” Elrohir shot back. “But not very well.”

The older twin laughed softly. And then, with a smirk, he rose and strode over to Glorfindel, unmindful of the surreptitious looks cast his way. The captain looked up at him with some surprise but Elladan only threw his cloak down upon the grass by his lover and settled his tall frame upon it. Glorfindel stared at him inquiringly.

“I thought we agreed not to make a display of ourselves before the others,” he reminded the older twin.

Elladan looked at him and said: “I see no reason to hide what we share. I am not shamed by it.” He gazed searchingly at Glorfindel. “But mayhap you are.”

The captain stared at him in even more surprise. “Far from it,” he protested. “Only a want-wit would feel thus.”

“Then why do you oppose a night’s rest together in plain sight of others?” Elladan softly asked.

Glorfindel regarded him a moment, perceiving the quiet hurt beneath the collected demeanor. “I did not intend to offend you,” he said. “Or have you believe that I desire to hide our trysting out of shame.” He reached out, hesitated, then cupped Elladan’s cheek in his palm. “‘Tis only that I am not given to public displays. You know how much they discomfort me.”

He paused when Elladan turned his face into his caressing hand and pressed his lips against his palm. The twin looked at him once more and smiled faintly. “I do not care for wanton conduct either or the flaunting of it,” he murmured. “I only wish to sleep by your side this night. But if you truly object—”

The rest of his speech was cut off when Glorfindel silenced him with a kiss. The captain drew back and noted his sparkling eyes, his sweet smile. With a sigh, Glorfindel lay down on his side and enclosed Elladan in a loose embrace.

“I do not,” he quietly stated.

Across the glade, upon ascertaining his brother’s felicitous state of mind for the night, Elrohir smiled to himself and finally slid into peaceful slumber.

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

Glossary:

tuilë – Quenya for spring

To be continued...
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Twilight Tales - The Captain's Guerdon