A Glorious Deception

After much negotiation the union of Celebrian and Elrond was at last announced. The news was received with much joy among the elves of Middle Earth as the belief that he would assume the place of High King with the marriage to Celebrian circulated throughout the elven kingdoms. Nor did Elrond immediately respond to the rumors and speculations deciding it was better to say nothing of his thoughts and plans. That he found the idea of sitting on his dead lover's throne repulsive was not something he wanted to be the subject of dinner table gossip. Nor did Celebrian push him, though he suspected that Galadriel would have been happier if he announced his intent to take the throne. Of course, Galadriel was a ring bearer, like himself, and sometimes felt a deeper duty to the elves of Middle Earth. In time, as the race of man multiplied, he knew that desire would lessen as the power of the elves waned. Of their diminishing he had no doubt.

Elrond and his party traveled to Lothlorien amid much fanfare and under great ceremony. Along the way, they encountered elves from all over Middle Earth, including Mirkwood and Lindon, swelling their ranks from only thirty or so to nearly one hundred elves. As
they were greeted on Lorien's borders, Elrond could only smile at the surprised looks on the March Wardens' faces as they eyed what appeared more like a small invasion force rather than a wedding party.

Cirdan and his group were already present, as were many others who'd chosen to come sooner rather than later. Such a marriage happened only rarely and everyone wanted to attend what was already being touted as the event of the Age. Lanterns were strung in the trees and along the walkways of Caras Galadhon. Glorfindel shared a flet with Galdor just below the flet Erestor shared with Lindir. There had been much joking and winking about the swaying of that particular mallorn and the "sighing" of the "wind" in the trees. All four elves had taken the teasing good-naturedly and even dished out a little of their own.

As for Elrond, he was ensconced in the royal flet with Celeborn, Galadriel, and Celebrian. He would have preferred to stay with his people, but as the bridegroom, he was not allowed. Lord Elrond had become accustomed to not being allowed a great many things, his freedom being at the top of the list. Part of him resented the rein on his freedom, as if he were really the High King and not merely a noble, and therefore subject to all the restrictions of a king. He put as good a face on the situation as possible, enjoyed what little time and freedom he could call his own, and tried to remain positive even when the weight on his shoulders almost drove him to his knees.

Celebrian remained as serene as a mountain lake. Whatever she believed or thought or hoped she kept carefully concealed. Hers was a duty that she would honor with all her heart. Though her soul had fled her body the day that Amdir passed into the Halls of Mandos, she knew that her destiny had only just begun. Like her mother, Celebrian had a gift and sometimes that gift revealed to her many things that she did not always want to see or know. Sometimes, however, the gift was less of a curse for it showed her the possibilities of many different paths. Take, for instance, Elrond's destiny. She knew that he would have children with her. She also knew that he had a destiny beyond that of Lord of Imladris. In his future, she could see a shadowy presence, one who meant no harm and held only love, though she could not yet see their identity. She also knew there would come a time when she would sail and leave Middle Earth forever. She had already seen her ship and knew, in her heart, the reason. She was terrified of that vision and hoped to avoid the hurt, though the idea of sailing had its own merit. Ruthlessly she pushed aside her thoughts and feelings and concentrated on her wedding preparations. The more she came to know Elrond, the more she admired him and, though she did not love him, she knew she could be happy sharing his life and, to some degree, looked forward to their union.

*~*

Galdor sat on the edge of his flet and stared around the treetops. The breathtaking view had kept him captive for hours and hours, despite his duties. Never before had he seen such beauty as the Golden Wood and his eyes roamed everywhere at once, desperate to drink it all in. Distantly he heard singing and he stared down at the ground. To his delight, he saw Gildor at the head of a column of exiles. With a heart felt cry of joy, he leapt to his feet and scrambled down the rope ladder to the forest floor.

Glorfindel turned at the sound of singing and watched as Galdor raced towards Gildor. The two embraced for a long moment and stared deeply into one another's eyes. He said nothing, only watched with his head tilted to one side. There was no mistaking the genuine affection between them.

"Is that Gildor?" Erestor asked as he came beside Glorfindel. Walking beside him was Lindir.

"I had no doubts he would be here. I am glad, too, for it is always good to be reunited with old friends."

Just then Elrond approached. He'd been finalizing some small detail with Lord Celeborn and finally gotten free. He saw Gildor and smiled fondly. Then he noticed how intently Lindir and Glorfindel watched the exchange. He wondered if Glorfindel had not gotten himself mixed up in a triangle that would lead to a broken heart. For Erestor he did not worry at all, for it seemed as though he and Lindir had come to some understanding and they both appeared happy. Approaching cautiously, he cleared his throat. "Glorfindel?"

Turning from the scene, Glorfindel met Elrond's troubled gaze. "My lord?"

Elrond cleared his throat. "This is truly none of my business, but I have to wonder if you have not allowed Galdor's beauty to cloud your vision?"

"How so?"

Looking first to Erestor and then at Lindir, Elrond started again. "If I am not mistaken, Galdor and Gildor were once –acquainted. Is it wise to become involved with Galdor under the circumstances?"

Glorfindel's eyes narrowed as he stared at Elrond. He understood perfectly well that his friend and Lord was trying to be tactful and only asked his question out of concern. Still, it did not stop him from becoming angry.

"There is no danger to Lord Glorfindel," Lindir spoke before he thought about what he was doing.

"What do you mean?" Erestor asked, hoping to forestall the gathering storm he saw in Glorfindel's blue eyes.

Lindir's face tinted pink and he stared at his boots. "Forgive me, I spoke out of line."

"Nay, pray you continue, young Lindir." Growled Glorfindel. He did not appreciate having his love life so openly discussed.

With a look of profound embarrassment, Lindir chewed on his bottom lip like an elfling. "I should not say—"

"Come, Lindir, whatever it is, say it." Elrond encouraged. He wished he'd kept his own mouth shut and since Lindir was so willing to explain something that he had no business even inquiring about, Elrond was willing to let the younger elf ease the rising tension.

"Gildor does not love Galdor, Lord Elrond, so whatever it is you fear for Lord Glorfindel is moot."

Erestor put his arm around Lindir's shoulders. "Do you know something we do not?"

"His love perished." Lindir blurted at last. He felt guilty for betraying Gildor even that much, but he could not have anyone thinking that perhaps Galdor was only using Glorfindel, especially since he knew it was not so.

Erestor frowned, trying to remember who might have been close to Gildor. He could think of no one, besides Lindir, off the top of his head. The young elves had constantly been in the company of commanders and captains, both human and elven, so there was no easy way to disentangle the connecting threads. "Who? I never saw him with anyone besides you."

"I have already broken his confidence once, Erestor, please do not ask me to say more."

Elrond turned to Glorfindel with a contrite smile on his lips. "Glorfindel, I hope you will forgive me for prying into business not my own. I only inquired out of friendship."

Glorfindel bared his teeth for a moment in an imitation of a smile. "I'm sure you meant well."

Gildor had at last stepped away from Galdor and saw the group huddled near by. He linked his arm with Galdor and went towards them. "Lord Elrond, my congratulations on your wedding." He offered a deep bow to Elrond before straightening and offering salutations to the rest of the small group.

Elrond quickly thanked Gildor and turned to leave as Lindir rushed forward to hug his friend. He did not know what it was that troubled him about the information Lindir had shared. Perhaps, he thought, it was the idea that one so young was in so much pain. He could empathize with Gildor and that made him want to offer comfort. Moreover, he could not for to do so would reveal that Lindir had broken a confidence and his healer's instincts rebelled at the restraint. As he walked back towards his quarters, he hit upon an idea. He thought about it for a moment and then dismissed it as foolish. No, he thought, I cannot. This is not for me to heal; let time do its work. Still in the back of his mind niggled an idea that simply would not go away.

*~*

Alone in their flet, Erestor turned to Lindir. "So, young Gildor had a lover that he lost on the battlefield. This is indeed news. I assume that is the reason he never came back to Imladris?"

Lindir sat on a chair and stretched his long legs in front of him. The strenuous weeks on a saddle had left a bit sore. He rarely rode so far these days, though not because of his health. Actually, his health was perfect. His twin duties as scribe and musician in the Last Homely House kept him confined. Nor did he wish to go far, for that meant leaving Erestor. Over the ensuing years he and Erestor had become closer and closer. The night in Mirkwood was beginning, though not the foundation, of their relationship. At first Lindir had been somewhat intimidated by the advisor. As time went on, he discovered that Erestor was two people trapped in one beautiful body. On the outside he was cool, reserved and formal to an extreme, yet inside, beneath the black silk robes was a warm and caring soul. Lindir had come to love both. Shaking his head, Lindir indicated he did not wish to discuss the matter. "Please, Erestor, I revealed too much of Gildor's confidence."

"Why the secrecy?" Erestor studied Lindir carefully, wondering if there had been something between them and the allusion had been to Lindir's illness and not a literal death. He dismissed the thought as soon as it entered his mind.

"They were never lovers; Gildor was in love with someone who had a mate."

Erestor's eyebrows rose slightly as he considered the possibilities. Anarion? Amdir? Surely not Oropher? There were so many. With a wicked smile, he seated himself beside Lindir. "I will never reveal the secret. Come, you can trust me."

"Your curiosity shall be your undoing," teased Lindir. He wanted to tell his lover, wanted to hold nothing back, not even the secrets of another's soul. But he felt he had no right. Besides, Gildor had never out and out said he was in love with Gil-Galad, but all the signs had been there, as well as a few hints. And, when he'd teased Gildor about it, the elf had not denied his feelings.

"If this love perished, then he should find someone else to love, especially, if, as you say, they were not intimate. As his friends, we should help him find some one. He is too young to mourn for a love that he never had."

"I agree, Erestor, but I am not sure he would welcome such interference. You see how easily he released Galdor. His heart truly belonged to G-this elf."

Erestor's dark eyes opened a little wider as certain memories suddenly came to the fore. He remembered Gildor hovering over the High King and Lord Elrond. He'd assumed hero worship was to blame, now he wondered. "Gil-Galad?"

Lindir could not quite meet Erestor's eyes. "He never said specifically, Erestor. I always assumed since he seemed so infatuated."

"Yes, well, it does make more sense, then, doesn't it?" Erestor draped his arm around Lindir's shoulders. "I will never tell another what you have revealed, Lindir. Come, I believe it is almost time for dinner."

*~*

Dinner in Caras Galadhon was an elaborate affair that usually involved all of the elves, guests and residents. No one cooked just for themselves or their families, but rather brought their food outside where it was shared equally. There were no servants in the Golden Wood, as everyone worked together in pretty much the fashion in which they lived. Certainly there were those who had duties, some more dangerous than others, however, there was no class distinction in the ways of Mirkwood or Lindon, or even Imladris. So, when the guests arrived in the large clearing where meals were served, they were treated to a variety of dishes ranging from pheasant and venison to steamed vegetables and baked fruits.

The glade accommodated far more than were present, an indication of how many had perished in the War of the Last Alliance and how many had chosen to sail afterwards. Children were rare as well; perhaps a result of the combined wars and migration over the sea. The area was well lit and scattered with cloths and benches and tables. Statuary offered interesting conversation pieces and the night blooming flowers added their own delicate aroma to the feast.

In the manner of elves, they ate and danced and sang in any order they wished. They took every moment and made it precious. Elrond sat beside Celebrian holding her hand throughout the evening, often bringing her tidbits of fruit or vegetables or refilling her goblet. They were frequently approached and congratulated or toasted. A never-ending stream of well wishers and friends sat with them. Only one elf remained conspicuously distant. Gildor came by, toasted the happy couple, and immediately took himself away.

Elrond noted this behavior and it stung a bit as he thought that he and Gildor were a little more friendly than all that. Turning to Erestor, who along with Lindir, had not left his side all evening and said as much.

"Perhaps he cannot bear to think of you marrying someone he is certain you do not love," Erestor said in a low voice. "He is all too aware of your closeness with Gil-Galad."

Elrond thought of that for a minute as he watched Gildor dancing with another elf. The female was pretty, with long dark brown hair and pale skin. Once the round stopped, Gildor bowed and left. Elrond watched with his brows drawn towards the bridge of his nose as Gildor faded into the shadows. He did not reappear.

Towards moonset, Celebrian rose, pulling Elrond with her. "Come and walk with me a moment."

Elrond bowed to those with whom they were seated and followed Celebrian a little ways towards the royal talan. "Does something trouble you?"

"Not at all," replied Celebrian turning and placing her hands lightly on Elrond's shoulders. "I wanted to wish you a goodnight in private."

"The evening is still young," he protested.

"For me, the hour is late. Besides, I think you would like to spend time with your friends. There are many here you have not seen in a long while. You should now go and enjoy their company."

"You need not go for that, Celebrian. Those to whom I am close are with me always."

"Not all, I should think. Anyway, I believe you could use the time to address certain issues." She gave him a meaningful look. "You left behind some unfinished business and that is not at all like you."

Elrond lifted his chin in defiance of his embarrassment. "I have left nothing unfinished. I have made vows and promises, Celebrian, that I have to honor."

Celebrian laughed softly and her warm breath brushed his skin. "Your honor is what I respect about you most, Elrond. I would not like you near as well if you were anything less than noble and honorable. There is another promise I will ask of you, if you please."

"Name it," Elrond took Celebrian's hands in his own and gently squeezed her fingers.

"Remain true to yourself." She withdrew her hands and turned towards the mallorn tree, leaving Elrond lost in shadow and thought.

*~*

Gildor sat quietly leaning against the enormous roots of a mallorn tree. Seeing Elrond with Celebrian hurt him far more than he dared show. Part of him wished he'd never come, but he knew that he'd had no choice, for to stay away would have been a grave insult to Elrond, not to mention Lord Celeborn, Lady Galadriel, and Celebrian. And anyway, the visit gave him the opportunity to see Galdor and Lindir, the two elves who were his closest friends.

He was happy for them both, as they seemed content with their lives. He wished he could be as content. But, while his company of exiles lived simply and freely, he was unbearably lonely. There were one or two within the small group who would willingly share his bed, but he would not let them. His heart belonged somewhere else. But where else? Elrond still captivated him, but his eyes had constantly sought another elf, one with whom he'd spent an entire night and never seen again. He supposed it was ego or pride that made him search for Aikanaro, but he wasn't certain. Could it be, he wondered, that he was finally coming to terms with his feelings for Elrond and putting them aside now that the other was to wed? He thought about that for a moment. He did not think he would ever cease loving Elrond. Aikanaro had kept him from being lonely that night in Mirkwood, nothing else.

"Gildor, there you are," a voice whispered.

Gildor jumped and looked around. As if conjured by his thoughts, Aikanaro stood not five feet from him. In his midnight blue leggings and tunic, he blended perfectly with the shadows. He carried a large stoneware pitcher in one hand and two goblets in the other. "I have been searching for you."

Aikanaro settled beside Gildor and glanced around. "What an odd place to look for me," he smiled and held out an empty goblet. "Join me?"

"Thank you," Gildor took the vessel and held it steady as Aikanaro poured wine.

"What are you doing here all alone?"

"I have never been to Lorien before and thought to spend a moment taking in my surroundings," Gildor lied. "Where have you been?"

Aikanaro sipped from his goblet. "I had business for Lord Elrond and just now finished. The wood is beautiful. Over there are falls where salmon practically leap onto the banks and the water is so clear you can count the pebbles on the bottom."

"You've been here before."

"Many times," Aikanaro frowned. "I am here frequently in the service of Lord Elrond. Come, let us speak of something beside the Lord of Imladris."

There was an awkward pause while each thought of something else to say. Aikanaro wanted to ask Gildor why he was always hiding among the trees during celebrations, but knew he did not dare presume. He wanted to ask Gildor many questions and did not know how or if he should.

Gildor, on the other, hand wanted to know why Aikanaro had fled their bed without a goodbye and where he'd taken himself off to afterwards. He'd been hurt by that, though he really did not want to admit how much the rejection had stung. What was wrong with him, he wondered, that he could be in love with someone and still be so fascinated with another?

"Would you show me the stream?" Gildor said at last.

Setting aside his goblet, Aikanaro instantly got to his feet. "Of course, Gildor. Follow me, it is not far."

Gildor scooped up the discarded goblet and carafe and followed Aikanaro. They wandered a short ways through the woods and came to a clear stream that was everything Aikanaro described and them some. Water cascaded over boulders in a surprisingly gentle rush before pooling into a swimming hole complete with a sandy beach and shade trees.

"Beautiful," breathed Gildor as he seated himself on a large, flat rock and drank in the sight of the moon-dappled pool. "I am glad you showed this to me."

"You are welcome," Aikanaro also sat down. "I enjoy coming here in the evenings, when things become too—"

Gildor slowly turned his head and stared at Aikanaro. For a moment, there seemed to be two different elves sitting beside him; one known and one hinted at, and he did not know which elf was which. "Too what?" His voice sounded far away.

Aikanaro shifted on the rock. "When I come here on Lord Elrond's business and have free time before I return to Imladris. I rarely have time to spend to myself with my travels and this is a treat for me."

"I thought you were a healer." Something wasn't making any sense to Gildor.

"I use my healer's skills all over Middle Earth, much in the way you and your exiles travel gathering information. I am not as needed in Imladris as I am in other places, but I call it home."

Gildor only nodded, unable to call his friend a liar to his face, but certain there was more to the words than met the ear. "Is it enough to call Imladris home? Do you not miss it when you are away?" Gildor leaned close and placed his head on Aikanaro's shoulder, seeking comfort and warmth.

Aikanaro jerked away from Gildor as he was burned. "Gildor, I did not bring you here to seduce you."

Plucking self-consciously at his robes, Gildor drew himself up straight. "I apologize, then, for I had assumed. I mean, after that night in Mirkwood…"

"Mirkwood was a mistake, Gildor. I should never have allowed my –That should never have happened." Aikanaro looked unbelievably uncomfortable.

Gildor flinched with each syllable. "Again, I apologize. I think I will return to my flet now. I enjoyed seeing you again, Aikanaro." He rose and bowed stiffly before fleeing to the darkness of the wood.

Aikanaro turned his feet back to his own quarters and, once there, removed his tunic and leggings, which he tossed spitefully into a corner. Picking up a brush he ran it through his inky black hair and scowled at his reflection in the mirror. He'd gone to Gildor seeking to help the other elf, not hurt him. Yet, somehow he'd made quite a mess of things and left Gildor hurting more than ever before.

He was a healer whose healing abilities seemed to be limited to wounds of the body lately and he had no idea how to deal with the problem he'd created. He could, he supposed, go to Gildor and …And what? His mind asked. And nothing, he answered. The damage had been done and anything else he could do would only make matters worse. He tossed his hairbrush on the table and pressed his palms to his eyes and fought the tears of frustration and loneliness that threatened to overwhelm him.

*~*

Quietly, Gildor stripped off his robes before folding them neatly and laying them on a nearby chair. Tip-toeing quietly over the sleeping figures of his vagabond troop with whom he shared his flet, he crept to his own pallet and lay down. A hole had opened in his chest and where his heart had once been, only a void remained.

He longed to find one who could fill that void and ease his hurt. Yet, there was no one. He'd sent Lindir and Galdor away, because he did not love them and did not want them to hurt as he hurt. The one he loved above all others was about to wed a princess. And the one whom he thought he might love had too many dark secrets and was not interested in Gildor, despite the night they spent together. A mistake Aikanaro had called their night together.