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The Dance On Water	By : redkiwi Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2174 -:- 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
- 5
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*warning: elements of self-harm.*
The early morning sun was unable to warm the soul or heart of the leader of the group of riders. And although the clear blue sky was sweeping in its spring's vibrant pales with soft clouds, the leader could find no solace within the peaceful heavens. He was troubled, but this task that he had volunteered to join would keep him distracted and away from the source of his unrelenting anguish that had begun ever since last night, which had ended only hours ago. He had walked away from someone who didn't want him; someone whom he didn't entirely want either. However, the ache in his heart suggested to him that he did desire that other, despite what his rationale concluded for him.
Those cold, haunted eyes that had been directed towards him last night had mirrored the eyes that he had seen within his dream. That dream had been a premonition. The two of them were not meant to be together, for in the dream it had foretold that he would only hurt Erestor. Glorfindel knew that he was not the one that Erestor so desired. It seemed to Glorfindel that Erestor wanted something that was lasting, something that Glorfindel would have a hard time accepting. But too poignantly within his heart the ache for Erestor grew undeniably. Tragically for Glorfindel, he knew that he had fallen in love with Erestor. But even though that was the case, Glorfindel doubted that he could be the person who Erestor so deserved as a lover. This whole situation was turning out for the worse, and Glorfindel needed time to think. It was best to get away from Erestor for a while.
Glorfindel sighed as he drew in a breath of the early morning air. The patrol had left early that day before Anor had yet to rise, and the cool valley in which Imladris lay was thickly covered in a blanketing fog. He was to be gone for a week on this mission: a week in which the group would cover the immense territory that formed the border lands that stretched across the western boundaries of Imladris.
He let his mind return to the last love that he had experienced. It had been with Thranduil, just before the great war against Sauron. Although their time together had been brief, Glorfindel's heart had truly beat with the truest of loves for Thranduil. Although he had told himself that he had walked away from Thranduil for good, over the years, his heart had truly never healed, and the love he had for him had never faded away. But Thranduil was gone form his life forever, and Glorfindel wondered.
Perhaps what he feared was not so much if would be able to fulfill and provide to Erestor what he wanted, but was instead his own deep fears of being hurt again. Yes there was love, but sometimes not even love was enough for a relationship to work. Glorfindel was not so sure if he wanted to give his heart away again. He would use this mission as a sweet escape, fully throwing himself into his work.
He often would lead groups of sentries to patrol the wide territory outside their own boarders for signs of orc activity. He was the captain of the Imladris forces, as well as also being in charge of defense and security. His expertise as a counselor to Elrond fell within defense and strategy. Glorfindel smiled, glad that his line of work offered him some reprieve. He welcomed the chance to leave the city of Imladris, so that he could be away from Erestor.

He turned his white horse, to the left leading the patrol further away into the western wilderness.
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Erestor didn't want to rise in this new morning after that night in which he had let Glorfindel slip through his fingers. After Glorfindel had left him alone to himself within his rooms, he had collapsed, a sorry mess of emotion that was crumpled with the heavy weight of his sorrow, confusion, loss, and blame. All of those tormenting weeks had all led up to that moment, and he had ruined whatever chance he may ever have had with Glorfindel. His mind was blank and his body was numb. How would he be feeling this morning if he had only but accepted Glorfindel's advances?
He would never know the answer to that question.
Instead, all that Erestor would ever knew was a life of solitude and of regret. Unwillingly, he moved his legs out from beneath his warm blankets, tangled and wrapped around his long limbs. His bare feet made contact with the cold floor as he left his bed. He walked to a nearby chair and lifted a grey robe, which he wrapped around his slender form before he stepped into his study. The various colored bottles of ink still sat uncovered on his desk around the pages of unfinished work. With his sharp senses, Erestor could still smell the lingering scent of Glorfindel's: spicy, warm and welcoming. His heart ached while he retreated away from his study and back into his bedroom.
There he crossed the length of the room to his bathroom. Erestor sat absentminded on a chair while he stared at the already drawn bath for him. The servants to the household of Elrond always managed to fill his bath with warm water before he rose while never disturbing his sleep. The water looked warm and inviting, but Erestor had not the will to rise from the rather uncomfortable chair on which he sat. The pain from the hard seat and coldness that filled the room in the early morning dulled the agony that roared within his mind and heart.
It amused him how outside pain could drive away and dull the inner torment, and his troubled mind pondered the theme for while before he rose from the chair and exited the bathroom back into his bedroom. He stopped at a large cider chest, delicately carved with scenes of the seaside of his native home of Lindon that seemed to come to life if he meditated long enough in front of. Across the top were giant waves that rolled and crashed and sea gulls that called and cried to each other. Erestor opened the lid away from him, eyes fixed and blank, as though in trance. The pungent aroma of cider and old memories filled his nostrils as he let the sensation of combining aromas overwhelm him.
After the brief pause of reflection, Erestor carefully and slowly worked his way through the objects that he kept hidden within this chest. Various artifacts, books, manuscripts, compiled with stones, dried leaves, and flowers filled the levels of the chest. Buried deep within the chest was a dark velvet material, which he now pulled out.
He grabbed tightly onto the bundle and slowly made his way back into his bathroom. Once he was within the room he delicately unwrapped the ancient clothe that concealed two twin daggers. Erestor hadn't touched those two ancient blades since the Second Age. Painful flashbacks and memories surfaced within his mind when he hesitantly held the daggers in each hand. The blades had retained their deadly sharpness, since Elvin blades never went dull with the effects of time. He studied the blades closely, recalling the last time he had held those weapons. That situation was unlike the moment of now, but, as Erestor thought more about it, he realized the uncanny elemental similarity of both times: a love lost.
Erestor stepped out from his robes and into the lukewarm water. He studied his wrists where slowly with time the old scars had begun to fade away. He let his mind drift out from awareness; out past the pine trees and mountains that surrounded the valley, up into the blue sky beyond Arda into the realm of which Iluvatur dwelled and where the Valar had sang so long ago. In his dissociated state, Erestor didn't fell any pain as the blade tore into his skin and dragged across his arm, leaving a deep red line across his pale flesh. The action was repeated several times as the water began to take on the same shade as the liquid that drained so freely from his veins. The drainage and aroma of his blood was just the catharsis that his burdened soul sought. All of his emotions were dulled away, and he no longer focused on the inner conflicts within his mind and heart.
Unlike the last time in which Erestor had used those daggers, he did not seek death. All he sought now was for an escape from his raging emotions, and he knew of no other way to dull the pain. His empty eyes stared up at the ceiling, not focusing on anything. He let his mutilated arms dangle on the rims of the bath, and out of the water.
Erestor let the numbness of this dissociation wash over him. In this time, he felt nothing. There were no more worries and there was no more pain. It was as if he was nothing and did not exist in any time or place. He felt as if he were floating, far away from what would keep him bound to Arda, and Erestor surrendered to this sweet escape of all conscious troubles.
Moment after moment had passed, but Erestor did not stir from the now icy water. Slowly he began to return to the now of the present. His escape had ended, and his mind flooded back with everything once more. He knew hat he had countless duties to see to today and that Elrond had called for a council that he had to attend.

Unwillingly, he stepped out from the bath, and slowly cleansed and bandaged his wounds. He hurriedly dressed himself in his usual grey robes, braided his hair, and hurried to his office. Forgotten were the twin blades, which lay blood stained on the bathroom floor.
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Elladan and Elrohir sat opposite of each other in the dinning hall, waiting for Legolas to make his appearance. While they waited, they focused more on the absence of certain individuals and the empty dinning seats pushed up against the wooden table, then on the presence of those seated at the table.
The large table that served the household of Elrond was uncharacteristically empty with several key places void of their inhabitants. At the head of the table, Elrond's grand chair sat empty. The twins thought nothing about it, since usually on council days their father missed breakfast to go over tedious details that he wished to address to his counselors. The seat next to Elrond's, which Erestor usually occupied, was also empty, as was the seat next to his, where Glorfindel sat. Their mother's seat too sat empty, as no one had ever dared to fill her seat, and Arwen's chair was also untouched, since their sister hadn't returned from their grandparents' realm in Lothlorien. All of their places were set nonetheless, teacups and glasses turned down, fine linen wrapped around silver utensils, spotless and shiny. Fruit bowls, white with delicate silvery vines painted around the rim atop matching plates, sat unused but ready in case someone would sit before them.
Only a few other people were present at the table this morning, but they were silent, eating in motions that told that they all had places to be soon, other things to do, that eating breakfast was an afterthought, an annoying necessity that they had to endure before they could begin their day. Both Elladan and Elrohir remained silent until it was just the two of them sitting at the large dinning table, their wait for Legolas had not yet ended.
"You did tell Legolas what time breakfast is served?" Elladan asked Elrohir, running an elegant and long finger across the rim of his cup of steaming tea. The rising steam from the cup rose and warmed his finger, before it evaporated.
"You were there when I told him. He probably has forgotten his way, and now he must be wondering around lost within our halls."
"I grow tired of waiting. Perhaps they do not eat breakfast in the Greenwood. I have always heard that the wood elves are a rather strange lot." Elladan's bored voice was barely above that of a whisper. "We should just begin without him."
"I will go to find him." Elrohir stated as he rose, pushing his chair back with such a force that it toppled over, crashing loudly onto the stone floor of the dinning hall.
"Anxious or aggravated, my dear brother?" Elladan laughed as he also stood.
"Now what would put you in such a state? Pray tell me that it is not due to a certain visitor who seems to brush off etiquette that any courteous guest would have sense enough to mind."
Elladan walked over and lifted the toppled chair, setting it back to its proper place amidst the row of unoccupied dinning chairs. "Do tell me, my brother, what do you think of the Greenwood Prince? He really must have left an impression on you to leave you in such a frazzled state." Elladan continued speaking, while he followed his twin from the dinning hall.
"He seems well enough." Elrohir downplayed his attraction to Legolas as he minimized his impressions of the enchanting elf. He knew that Elladan was very perceptive however, and the fact that they were twins made it difficult, if not impossible for him to hide anything from the his brother. No, he knew that Elladan could not be fooled.
"Only well you say? Have you lost your ability to distinguish between the mere well with that of the truly exceptional, my dear brother?" Elladan shook his head in disbelief, knowing that his brother was trying to hide something from him. But he could see right through him.
"Have you ever thought to think that perhaps our tastes differ greatly, Elladan?"
Elrohir was becoming annoyed, and the fact that his brother had begun to laugh, didn't help his mood. Elrohir hated the games his brother loved to play, and he dreaded the thought of Legolas becoming involved and trapped within his brother's whims. 'Though ultimately I fear our time together will lead to that.' Foreboding thoughts were hushed when Elladan spoke to him again again.
"Meaning that I have taste, whereas you are sorely lacking."
"Meaning that I care not to indulge in the fantasies of your perverse mind." Elrohir had stopped as he confronted his brother, his eyes held an unfriendly air, his scorn was evident.
Elladan could see the contempt that ran through his brother's mind, for radiated from his facial features and body language. He stepped backwards until he had made contact with the stone wall.
"But if I remember correctly, my dear brother, you were a most willing participant when you, as you said, 'indulged yourself in my twisted mind'." Elladan's unwavering voice moved past his thin, yet strongly colored lips.
"I was so much younger then, Elladan. You know that I have changed. I will, and can not ever be that person again!"
"Only because of the constraints you place on yourself."
Elladan couldn't help but glare as he stepped forward, moving Elrohir back into the hall as he stepped away from the cold stone wall. The bitter realization of having and knowing his brother that one night still painfully lingered and ardently burned within his memories. If only his brother didn't have to be so righteous, then his heart would wouldn't bleed and weep as it did, crying out for someone who rightly could never be his.
"That is not even the half of it, my brother!" Elrohir could scarcely believe that they were having this conversation again, and he planted his feet firmly down, wanting not to concede his ground while he confronted his twin.
"Why must we constantly place limitations on ourselves?" Elladan placed his arm around his brother.
"It is over, Elladan." Elrohir snapped, pushing away his sibling's arm.
"But, my brother, did it actually ever begin? How can you say something is over if there was never a starting point. To have an ending, a story must first have a beginning. I do not recall a proper beginning for our story." His sly grin seemed to mock Elrohir.
"There will be no continuation!"
"Perhaps, although I think that you may still change your mind."
"I am not as indecisive as you would take me for."
"Of course not, my brother. We are, as you know, of the same blood and same mind."
"That may be so, but there is still one's own will." Elrohir fell silent as his brother's laugh intensified.
"One's own will you say? If that was true with love, Elrohir, then we would not have the sayings that we do concerning that one emotion. To be stricken with something, as love, indicates to me that one's free will has nothing to do with it at all. Besides, we are one in the same, sharing the same will, I believe."

"We are not the same person, my brother. And I must say that I pity you and your weak will."
"Still you allow yourself to believe there is such a thing as free will." Elladan slowly shook his head to show Elrohir his differing opinion.
"All we are, my brother, are creatures of circumstance. All that we do in our lives is in response to the events in our lives. Do not fool yourself into believing that you are in control of your own destiny. Do not fool yourself into thinking that there is a better good out there, and that you can achieve it with your own free will and righteousness." The gleam within Elladan's eyes grew more intense as his brother's face flushed slightly.
"You have the belief that you have so little self-control?"
"You are so intent on denying the feelings that I know you harbor deep within your heart?"
"Then you know me…"
Elrohir stopped mid-sentence when he saw that Elladan's eyes had moved to another. He turned his eyes to where his brother was looking, and he saw that Legolas was walking towards them down the hall from the outer courtyard gardens.
"Good day Elladan and Elrohir." Legolas greeted them as he approached.
"Legolas!" Elrohir smiled at him, and he tried his best to calm his raging emotions and feelings that were surging within. "We were just on our way to escort you to breakfast. We thought you were not going to join us."
"I must apologize for keeping you both in waiting. I found sleep difficult to find as night turned to early dawn, so I decided that a morning stroll through your lovely gardens would be just what I needed. I am accustomed to walking in the forest in the morning, and your gardens satisfied that need. There is nothing more refreshing to me than seeing the mighty trees wrapped and obscured in the early morning fog, which is in turn cut through with the beams of Anor. It is times like that in which I forget the woe of the world and renew my spirit within the natural flow of the universe that lives in nature."
"And you were able to do that in our garden?" Elladan asked with a slight snicker in his voice.
"Indeed, I did. There are so many new plants blooming in this spring that were able to erase the lingering tensions and fatigue that resulted from my journey here. There are also many ancient trees in this valley that whisper words from ages that I have never heard before. I feel I could spend my whole day learning from their wisdom, drawing my strength from their communion. Again I must say that your valley is a fair place to reside." Legolas eyed the twins mindfully, fully aware that he had disturbed them during a rather heated argument.
"And you will see more of the valley Legolas, after we have eaten breakfast. You have not forgotten that we will escort you around the valley today?" Elrohir smiled before he shot his brother a look of warning.
"How could I forget?" Legolas returned the smile, and he followed the twins down the corridor to the dinning hall.
The three seated themselves within the dinning hall which was nearly empty save for only a few lingering people who were finishing their meals. Soon, the cooks had placed the breakfast plates in front of the three, who chatted politely while they ate.
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Glorfindel and the patrol of sentries continued their westward ride. Now that it was mid morning, the small band had decided to stop for a break and eat a meal. Glorfindel scanned the horizon as his sentries prepared the meal. Seeing and sensing nothing out of the ordinary, the he sat himself on the soft ground beneath the forest of pines. He watched as the guards prepared the meal, and as the horses wandered around the tall pine trees that surrounded the group. They wouldn't stop for long, since they had much territory to cover in the short span of the week.
The rich smell of the boiling soup penetrated to Glorfindel's senses, and he realized just how hungry he was. A gentle wind rustled through the pine trees of the forest, and the serene setting helped Glorfindel's mind stay in its currently relaxed state.
"Lord Glorfindel." A young sentry spoke as he sat next to Glorfindel.
"The scouts ahead send word that no orc activity has been sighted in the northern borders. We have yet to hear from the scouts from the southern borders. Perhaps they have encountered some problems." The sentry asked with transparent expectation in his voice.
"You sound as if you want to encounter some orcs, Cinodon." Glorfindel remembered Elrohir's words about having seen tracks of a great host of orcs.
"I was told by a source yesterday of a company of orcs that had passed around our borders. There is a great chance that we will encounter some orcs while on this patrol."
"This is my first patrol." Cinodon admitted. "I am ready to prove my ability as a sentry, Lord Glorfindel. I feel very honored to have been chosen for this patrol. Besides." He softly laughed to himself. "I promised my younger sister that I would kill an orc for her."
Glorfindel smiled to Cinodon, as another sentry handed him a bowl of hot soup with rye bread. Glorfindel thanked the sentry who was now serving the others. He slowly ate while he watched the delightful white clouds roll across the sky.
The breeze told Glorfindel that later the group would encounter a storm, which was common to these lands in spring. He implored that the storm would strike before nightfall, since that was most likely the time in which the hordes of orc might attack. Those foul creatures moved with the night, and should they encounter any tonight, the storm could complicate things for them.
Focusing back on his soup, Glorfindel realized he wasn't as hungry as he had that he had been. The soup was tasteful, but his appetite was missing. He rose from his sitting position and walked away from the small camp that they had made.
He leaned against a tall pine tree, while he finally gave in to the pain that had been swelling within his heart. He didn't know how to act or think about the situation with Erestor. He hated feeling so lost, not knowing how to handle or interpret the strange emotions and feelings of dissatisfaction and of being forlorn. His mood deteriorated as the wind began to pick up in intensity. The storm was closing in, and Glorfindel could sense that the duration of the storm would last far into the night. He collected his scattered feelings and emotions before he headed back to the camp.
There the sentries had already packed up and were ready to leave. Glorfindel approached his horse, and he looked back to the distant valley of Imladris where his thoughts and heart were still trapped. The group continued their westward ride, even as the clouds took on a darker and more ominous hue with every mile that they passed. The wind had turned from its pleasant breeze from earlier in the day, to that of a cold and piercing hindrance. Glorfindel didn't see any reason to keep his sentries out in the storm, and he led the way to an area where they could wait out the storm and night, if need be.
Glorfindel had patrolled this area many a time, so he knew where a small series of cabins were built for shelter for the Imladris guards in these boarder lands. Now the rain began to fall in torrents as the sentries drew closer to the shelter. The forest in which they travelled had become dark and almost unrecognizable, since it had fallen under the dark storm clouds above. The cold rain that fell caused a rolling fog to form because of the contact it made with the warmer earth.
Glorfindel ordered for the sentries to stay close to his side. He would hate for any of them to become separated, since they would have to find shelter on their own in the storm if they did. He doubted that there would be any attack from orcs during the storm, but he didn't let that possibility leave his mind while he continued heading towards the shelter.
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Not beta read. sorry for all the mistakes.
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The Dance On Water