130 Third Age.
Gentle autumn winds blew through the valley, stirring red and gold leaves, as Elrond, Erestor, Lindir and Glorfindel rode from the Bruinen Valley. Elrond's intent was to travel light, fast, and alone; but Glorfindel would not hear of such an event, considering it his sacred duty to protect Elrond regardless. Besides, he wanted to be with Galdor again. Though the elf had come to the celebration of the elflings' birth, Glorfindel considered the opportunity to spend more time together too good to pass up. Lindir, ashamed of his actions, wanted a chance to make amends to his friend, Gildor, and hoped to find him receptive to the idea. Meanwhile, Erestor would have marched into Barad-Dur armed only with a sharpened stake rather than let Lindir out of his sight. Therefore, to Elrond's utter annoyance, he had company on this important, and private, journey.
Elrond had already sent word to Cirdan who helped a long a bit in this quest by sending word to the exiles that he wished for Gildor to come to the sea. Though they had no real claim over the exiles, Cirdan knew Gildor would never refuse such a summons and would make undue haste to reach the Havens. What Cirdan hadn't said in his summons was the reason why he wanted Gildor. Nor did Cirdan know for certain; although he suspected. He was not blind and he'd been in the company of Elrond and Gil-Galad long enough to realize that Elrond's preference was not in females. He also suspected, judging from certain hints and rumors, that something had happened between Elrond of Imladris and Gildor the Exile, but what had gone wrong was beyond him. He chose not to press matters, assuming it was none of his business. Besides, he knew he'd learn the full details in time, should he want them.
At that time, the roads west were not as dangerous as they would become in the latter years of the Second Age. The four companions traveled easily, encountering dwarves and men, and even the occasionally migrating Stoor. Elves also traveled more openly then, even those of Lothlorien and many of their nights were spent around a campfire sharing stories with a variety of travelers.
When they reached the Havens a few weeks later, Elrond immediately sequestered himself and waited for Gildor's arrival. No one knew that Imladris' ruler was present, only that his advisors had come and they took great pains to keep Elrond hidden.
*~*
Glorfindel lay sprawled atop Galdor's spacious bed and watched his lover comb out his dark braids. "Do you really think this will work?" Galdor asked, observing Glorfindel from the mirror.
"No, but what choice is there?" Glorfindel stretched and yawned.
Galdor rolled his eyes. "How about a little honesty? Truth, maybe?" He rose from his seat and strolled casually towards the bed. Crawling between Glorfindel's legs, he kissed his way up the strong chest until he was able to capture Glorfindel's lips with his own.
After a long, soul-searching kiss, the warrior at last managed to reply. "If it were me, I'd say yes to both. Lord Elrond fears that Gildor may not face him."
Galdor snorted. "I think those fears are not unfounded."
"I have given my thoughts on this to Elrond. What he does or does not do with them is up to him. Let us leave Gildor and Elrond to their own affairs," he said as he slid his hand up Galdor's bare back. "And let us take care of ours."
*~*
Lindir stood in the courtyard and watched as
a troop of elves came singing into the flickering torchlight. He'd known that
Gildor was close by and had resolved to meet him before anyone else. Erestor,
standing in the shadows, had expressed concern, but Lindir had waved him off,
declaring that his need to speak with Gildor stemmed not from his previous
passion, but from the desire to fix what he'd inadvertently broken.
Gildor led his exiles into the courtyard, right up to the steps, before ending
their song. His long hair was loose and flowed down his back. His smile was
warm and his eyes danced with joy as he beheld Lindir. "Lindir! My joy
is complete; for I am by the sea and in the company of dear friends again."
With that, he clasped Lindir warmly against him, as if nothing had happened.
Lindir felt a flush creep up his face at Gildor's words. His guilt increased as he realized that, by his silence, he was again about to betray his friend. He recognized a certain irony in that, first, it was his careless tongue that had betrayed Gildor, and now, holding his tongue was an equal treachery. Yet, what was he to do? He'd wrestled with his conscience all the way from Imladris and had not discovered an answer. Now that he was in the Gray Havens, he was no closer to solving his dilemma. "You left Imladris so suddenly that I feared it would be many years before I saw you again," Lindir murmured in Gildor's ear. "I wish to speak with you in private, if I may."
Gildor tilted his head as he peered at Erestor over Lindir's shoulder. The advisor still reminded him of a black crow. He offered Erestor a smile and received one in return. "Whenever you like, Lindir, but first I must make my presence known to Lord Cirdan, for it was he who summoned me here."
"I believe Lord Cirdan has retired for the night," spoke Erestor. "Servants are ready to show you to your rooms and accommodate the rest of your friends. Come, he will meet you in the morning." Erestor beckoned Gildor towards the large double front doors of Cirdan's spacious quarters.
He and Lindir linked arms as the entered the familiar hall. Gildor's bright eyes took in his surroundings, noting the small changes and the sense of timelessness that had always been the Havens. "What brings you two here?"
"Business for Imladris," Erestor replied from the other side of Lindir. "Glorfindel took the opportunity to come as well."
"He would not pass the opportunity to see Galdor again," Gildor correctly guessed.
Lindir laughed nervously. "How easily you read us."
Gildor's lips twitched with wry amusement. "Indeed, Lindir, you are as open to me as a newly written scroll. And when will Lord Elrond make his appearance?"
Erestor swallowed uneasily. "Lord Elrond.."
"Would not send his chief advisor, a lesser advisor, and his seneschal unless all of Imladris were facing open war. I know that is not yet the case." Gildor stopped walking and faced his friends squarely. "Please, do you not think this has gone far enough?"
"I would ask you the same," Erestor replied evenly. "You left Imladris before explanations could be given. There is much you did not know or understand."
"So my friends and one time lover have come to set it all to rights, I suppose."
"I came only to apologize," Lindir said quietly. "I betrayed you once and see the results of my betrayal."
"You betrayed nothing, Lindir, and I am not angry with you. I'm not angry with anyone." Gildor squeezed his friend's arm. "You need not apologize to me. "
"My careless tongue caused you pain."
"My pride caused me pain, and, perhaps, too, my own…" Gildor paused, searching for a way to say what he meant. "Foolishness. I saw what I wanted to see and believed what I wanted to believe. I consider it all in the past."
"Your wisdom exceeds your years," Erestor spoke quietly. He sensed that Gildor was less than honest with them and realized the depths of hurt the younger elf had suffered and the great pains he'd gone through to conceal it from them. "Ah, here comes the servant to show you your rooms."
Gildor bowed, recognizing that Erestor would give him no information. He sensed that Elrond was present somewhere and he only hoped that whatever business the lord had with the shipwright, it would not interfere with his own comings and goings.
*~*
"What now?" Lindir said as Gildor followed the servant towards his quarters.
Erestor spread his hands wide. "I can do nothing and neither can you. This is between them."
"I fear he will not listen to Lord Elrond. Then what? Will he forever wander Middle Earth with his heart in tatters?"
"And what can we do about it? If Gildor loves Lord Elrond, he will forgive him and forget the mistakes made. If not, then they will go their separate ways and the rest of us will have learned a lesson about meddling."
*~*
The servant opened the door and stepped aside for Gildor to enter the room. Once inside, the servant pulled the door to, leaving the elf standing forlornly on a finely woven rug. Candles were lit and a fire burned in the fireplace to ward off the chill sea air. A decanter of wine and goblets sat on a table near two chairs pulled close to the fire. The faintest footstep startled Gildor and he turned.
"Excuse me," he started and then stopped.
A dark haired elf stood before him wearing blue leggings and tunic. His hair was braided away from his face, exposing an exquisitely sculpted face. The face was one with which Gildor was all too familiar.
He bowed. "Forgive me, Lord Elrond, the servant must have given me the wrong room."
"No, Gildor, he did not. This is your room." Elrond went to stand by one of the chairs. "Will you not sit and speak with me?"
Gildor was reluctant to address the object of his affections. His anger hand cooled, but not his shame and he did not know what he could say or what Elrond could say to him that would make things better between them.
Elrond tilted his head. "Please?"
Slowly Gildor moved forward, each foot feeling like lead as he approached the chairs. Sitting on the edge of his seat, he looked as though he were an elfling facing his elder.
"Wine?" Elrond moved a little towards the table.
"No thank you," Gildor said.
Elrond bit his lip and studied his former lover. He noticed the tension and the wariness in the wide spaced eyes. Moving around the chair, Elrond sat down and placed his hands on the arms of the chair and leaned back. Had he known how imperious the pose made him look and how intimidating it was, he might have chosen a different posture. "You left before we could speak."
"I did not see as we had anything to discuss." Gildor grew defensive without meaning to. "As you said, my lord, it was all a terrible mistake; a comedy of errors, if you will. There was no harm done to either of us."
Elrond winced as his words, spoken so long ago in Lothlorien came back to haunt him. "Do you believe that neither of us have suffered as a result? I have, though, perhaps you do not see it."
Gildor squared his shoulders and met Elrond's gaze coolly. Whatever the noble thought he'd suffered was nothing compared to Gildor's humiliation. But he'd borne that humiliation with as much dignity as he could muster and taken his pride and his wounded heart and fled before he could do or say anything rash or foolish. He had no wish to further humiliate himself. "We have both suffered embarrassment, but that is of no lasting effect."
"After losing Gil-Galad, I never thought I'd want another person in my bed," Elrond said as if Gildor had not spoken. "I tormented myself with remembrances of him; I closed off my heart and soul and buried my body in Imladris' needs. After a time, I realized that my love would not have wanted me to continue as I was. I had always known that one day circumstance would separate us. We never thought death would be the dividing line between us. I was long in healing and that was, mostly, my own fault. Part of that healing came from you, though neither of us knew it at the time."
"I am glad I could be of service, my lord."
Elrond steepled his fingers beneath his chin and stared with unblinking eyes as he tried to assess what lay behind Gildor's mask. "Do you think I did this on purpose? I assure you, I did not."
"As I said, a comedy of errors; a mistake," Gildor replied. "I understood you clearly enough in Imladris, my lord."
"If you throw that phrase back in my face one more time, Gildor, I shall grow impatient." Elrond growled. His anger peeked through his disguise. "I did not mean those words like you have interpreted them. The mistake was that I deceived you and maybe myself as well. I never intended to give my body to anyone that night, but I did. I did not intend for Aikanaro Helyanwe to be other than an elf who came and went without being noticed. I have hurt you with my actions and I want to make amends."
"If you would undo the damage you have done, my lord, then leave me in peace," Gildor whispered.
"Is that your true wish?" Elrond leaned forward. "If I thought that, then I would go this instant, but I do not believe you, Gildor. I know whom you loved. I know for whom your heart pined."
Gildor felt his face grow pale beneath Elrond's
intense scrutiny. Was he not mortified enough by that night in King Thranduil's
hall? How much more would he have to endure?
Taking control of his emotions, Gildor kept his voice as level as possible.
"I have relinquished Lindir."
Elrond glanced away. Had he been wrong? He turned back to Gildor. No, he thought. I am not wrong. But how to force the concession from the younger elf? His thoughts raced ahead of his tongue and he struggled with himself, searching for the right words, the right phrase that would make Gildor speak the truth. "In Lothlorien, I sought you out because I thought you had lost a loved one and I wanted to help you overcome your pain."
"And I misinterpreted your actions, I apologize."
Elrond nearly ground his teeth. "The kisses that you gave to Aikanaro were intended for another, therefore, the deception was mutual."
Gildor sat back, struck dumb by the irony. Elrond had hit upon a key element in their 'relationship' that was both amusing and tragic.
"Or were they?" purred Elrond, leaning even closer. His eyes bore into Gildor, as if trying to read the other's soul. "You allowed yourself to begin to care for Aikanaro; you trusted him, gave yourself to him, desired him. For in him you sensed another presence."
Gildor stared down at his clenched fists. "Lord Elrond, is it your desire to degrade me further? Will you see me crawl and beg for mercy?"
"When you have laid yourself as bare as I have, Gildor, then I will relent. I stood before you in the garden and exposed myself in ways that I have never before done. I tore open my soul, and my shame was laid before you. What mercy did you show me when you left?"
"I saved us."
"Save us what, Gildor?" Elrond's voice was barely a whisper and he inexorably closed the gap between them. "Did you save us from more pain? Is /this/ any less degrading than facing me in Imladris? Or do you mean that you saved yourself? You have run from one end of Middle Earth to the other to avoid your heart's desire. You have left in your wake a slew of bewildered lovers. Still you run. What will you do, Gildor, when you have no place left to hide?"
Gildor raised his head and was confronted by Elrond's face inches from his own. Tears beaded on his lashes. "I do not know what you want of me, my lord."
Elrond raised his hands and placed them firmly on Gildor's shoulders. "Do you love me?" High spots of red spread over Gildor's cheeks and Elrond knew he had his answer. "Then why do you flee from me?"
"I have loved you nearly from the moment I first saw you, only I did not realize it until we'd been at the front for many months. But, by then, I also realized you belonged to King Gil-Galad. When he perished, I watched your heart break; and, though I longed to heel it, I did not feel you would allow me to come near."
"I would not have," agreed Elrond. "I was not ready to love again. I did not know until the night in Lothlorien what you had come to mean to me. I watched you grow before my eyes on those dusty plains, but I did not realize who you had become until I saw you again in Mirkwood. Gone was the shy elf who came begging for a place in my army and in his stead stood a wise and gentle elf who captivated me against my will. I meant no deception, Gildor. I only disguised myself to attend the celebrations anonymously, not to shame you or trick you. In Lothlorien, I realized that I had made a mistake when I came to you as Aikanaro. That was what I meant when I said it was a mistake. I fell in love with you and did not even know it and I could see no way to disentangle myself from the web of lies I created." His hands slid up Gildor's shoulders to his slender neck and he held the younger elf in place as he brought his lips closer.
Gildor remained perfectly still as Elrond brushed their lips together. He relented under the gentle pressure and opened his mouth to Elrond's tongue. Hands slipped into his hair and pinned him against the chair as Elrond drank his fill. The sweet kissed was broken after a moment and Gildor blinked.
"This is all well and fine," he said, "but you are now wed to Lady Celebrian." The words nearly scalded his tongue, but they needed to be said and he knew it.
Clasping Gildor's hands in his own, Elrond took a calming breath. "I am aware of my obligations to my wife and my sons. She, however, is the reason I am here with you. She always knew that I loved Gil-Galad, and when I fell in love with you, she knew that, too. Perhaps, she knew it before even I did. I will not ask that you come to Imladris to be hidden away like a shameful secret. It is enough to know that you love me."
Gildor shook his head. At last he had his heart's desire and yet he remained bound by laws and traditions that made publicizing what he felt for Elrond impossible. Now that he knew how Elrond felt, he wondered how he was supposed to continue as he had. Did he offer himself up for one night of passion and then fade into wilds of Middle Earth? Did he sneak like a thief into Imladris at festivals and holidays and steal a few hours with the noble ruler? How long could he endure such heartbreak before anguish overwhelmed him and began to fade? Was this, then, the destiny he'd always sensed?
"It would have been better, Lord Elrond, had we never spoken of this," he responded. "There is nothing we can do, now. What is done is done."
"Not so, I think." Elrond pulled Gildor to his feet. "Come, let me hold you for a while and we will speak to one another our hopes and dreams."
Puzzled, Gildor waited until Elrond situated
himself more comfortably in his chair and settled on the waiting lap. Elrond
stroked the long hair, feeling the silky texture and inhaling the deep scents
of wild woods and rushing streams. With Gildor's head upon his shoulder, Elrond
spoke of things that Celebrian had said and his own dreams of the future.
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