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Twilight Tales - The Captain's Guerdon	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 8526 -:- 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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It’s been slow going with this new story due to the hectic pace of the past month and various other aspects of RL. I can’t promise to update as swiftly as I did with previous stories but I will do my best not to leave everyone hanging overlong either in between chapters. This fic is about the relationship of Elladan and Glorfindel as mentioned in the ficlet Chance Met. But there’s no need to read that story in order to understand this one. I do hope it will please. In the meantime, a merry holiday season to one and all.

Title: The Captain’s Guerdon

Author: Eressë (eresse21@yahoo.com)

Pairing: Elladan/Glorfindel

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: The characters belong to the wizard of storytelling himself, JRR Tolkien and/or his estate. No offense is intended or profit made in my use of them

Summary: Desire and fate seem to conspire against a legendary warrior when he catches the attention of one relentless soldier prince.

Author’s note: While it seems generally accepted today that Glorfindel of Gondolin and Glorfindel of Rivendell are one and the same, the time and manner of his return to Middle-earth remain debatable. There is a supposition that he may have accompanied Gandalf and the other Istari when they sailed from Valinor in the year 1000 of the Third Age and therefore came to Rivendell when it was already long established and Elrond’s children fully grown.

The Captain's Guerdon

Prologue

Imladris, lairë TA 1000

They gathered in the courtyard of the Last Homely House – the lord of Rivendell and his lady wife and three children and a goodly number of the household. It was little more than the second hour after sunrise but the sentries had sent word that the awaited delegation from Lindon had begun their descent into the steep valley that sheltered the elven refuge that was Imladris.

That this delegation would be welcomed by Elrond himself and his entire immediate family not to mention his principal counsellors and house staff bespoke the importance of their arrival. Or rather what their arrival would herald. For there were few matters that could compare in significance with the imminent advent of a legend come back to life.

He rode at the head of the approaching party, tall and lean, his warrior’s body bristling with barely contained power, his fair hair outshining the very sun itself. And his face – there were few who could rival such incandescent beauty and even fewer who believed that there were any at all who did. Glorfindel, acclaimed Lord of the House of the Golden Flower in ancient Gondolin and savior of his king’s sole grandchild, had returned to life and was now returned to Middle-earth.

There was a discernible hush when he entered the courtyard astride a steed of obvious Valinorean birth. Immaculate Asfaloth, as immortal as his master, cantered onto the cobbled space and came to a halt before the lord and lady of the vale. Beside elven horse and rider, the rest of the Lindon party paled considerably in comparison.

Before Elrond or any other could say a word, Glorfindel dismounted and bowed deferentially before the Half-elven lord and his beauteous lady. A tacit indication of his role in the scheme of things and his dutiful concurrence with it.

“Welcome to Imladris, Lord Glorfindel,” Elrond softly intoned, liking at once the look of strength, courage and reliability the fair-haired Elf exuded. “I trust your journey here was without incident?”

The warrior smiled. In that instant, it was as if the sun had chosen that very spot in all of Arda upon which to shine its brightest. Behind Elrond, the brethren Elladan and Elrohir caught their breaths in astonishment while Arwen their sister could only gaze quite raptly at Rivendell’s new captain.

“Please, my lord, call me by name for I bear no title this day,” Glorfindel said, his voice warm and rich as newly drawn milk. “I was sent back to protect you and yours and this I will do to the best of my ability.”

“But we would also have you as a friend, Glorfindel,” Celebrían said. “And I for one owe you my everlasting gratitude for without your valor, my beloved husband would not have come into the world.”

She reached out a white hand in a gesture of friendship. Glorfindel took her hand and bowed briefly over it in acceptance of what was offered. With that formality done with, Elrond proudly bid his sons and daughter to come forward. While he awaited the inevitable introductions, Glorfindel studied the Imladrin lord and his children with frank curiosity.

Here were the scions of the child he had died to preserve. The heirs of Eärendil whose celestial light had guided the Telerin ship that bore him and the Istari to the Hither Shores. He had borne one of the most hideous deaths imaginable to ensure the life and future of Turgon’s grandson. Now he had been sent back to Middle-earth to protect the fruits of the Mariner’s loins. He would finally know whether his sacrifice had been worth it.

By Elbereth, they are more beautiful than I ever expected, he thought as he took in their features. And possessed of an allure that was neither ephemeral nor earthy but simply and singularly theirs. His eyes were drawn in particular to the brethren. It was hard to ignore the startling mirror imagery of Elrond’s sons. Especially when what was mirrored was as much astounding strength and innate charisma as incomparable beauty. He glanced at their sister and decided at once that they were her match in comeliness. Had they been female, their graces would have been extolled as heartily as hers.

He wrenched his captivated gaze from them when Elrond presented the others – his sage chief counsellor Erestor with whom Glorfindel would doubtless regularly confer; the Last Homely House’s multi-talented steward cum minstrel, Lindir; Gildor Inglorion of the Wandering Companies who oft gathered news from abroad for Elrond. Glorfindel concealed his smile at the euphemism for spying.

Once the introductions were done, he perused Elrond’s children once more, his eyes alighting on each with veiled interest. Without warning, his gaze locked with Elladan’s.

Purest grey met deepest blue. In that one exchange of gazes, Glorfindel felt something shift within him. The older twin looked at him with the same admiration and curiosity as his brother and sister. But there was something else in Elladan’s gaze. Something that stirred the golden-haired Elf. Glorfindel inwardly shivered from the unexpected sensation.

Only once in all his long life had he ever known the feeling though he had not realized its full nature until too late. It had started in Valinor ere the light of the Two Trees was extinguished but only gained acknowledgement in Gondolin before its grievous fall. He had been reluctant to accept that which rendered him bereft of control of his very heart and will and thus had only come to accept it when time had run out on the hidden city. But here, in the spacious courtyard of the Last Homely House East of the Sea, upon first sight of Elrond’s older son, he knew it at once. Recognized the combination of sensations that comprised an emotion he had long thought banished from his being.

Unfettered enthrallment. Preternatural rapport. Raw desire.

Glorfindel recoiled from the unbidden feeling. This was not the time or place to entertain such thoughts. And he had no wish to embroil himself once more in matters of the heart. But even as he forced his attention elsewhere, he knew it would be no easy thing to set aside. Because there was no pretending that the feeling was his alone. He had glimpsed reciprocation in the older twin’s eyes.

Whence this mutual attraction? And why him? Why now?

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

Glossary:

lairë – Quenya for summer

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