English Fic: "Night Stroll" 2/2
Title: Night Stroll
Author: Nemesi.
Beta: Mary
Genre: I’m not that sure, really. I’d say… romance, fluff, with a dose of angst and a sprinkle of Glorfindel’s trademark silliness.
Couple: Erestor/Glorfindel.
Rating: PG-15
Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings, its characters, places and themes do not belong to me, no matter how much I may wish. All the characters here portrayed are creations of J.R.R. Tolkien.
Note: It’s been a long time since I wrote in English, but after translating the Interlude, my love for this language came back full force to me, and I could not resist writing a little fic…
Note 2: This was originally a one-piece fic, but it's too long for LJ liking, so I'm cutting it in two ^_-
Summary: A Midnight stroll leads Glorfindel to find at last the reason for his return… or its reward.
* * * * *
****
“This place gives off a wonderful feeling,” Glorfindel said slowly. “It is by far the most beautiful and peaceful of all the gardens we saw.” It may be all the love you poured into it, he thought, but chose not to say it aloud.
Without Erestor noticing, they had returned to his rose garden, and there they now stood, silent and still. Up until that moment, Glorfindel had been chatting amiably about everything in sight - the flowers, the grass, the sky, the stars, the soft, fluffy clouds he insisted looked like the two of them, or the twins, or Asfaloth - and did not that cloud up there look just like Elrond’s eyebrow? You know, the one he arches when angry? - But now Glorfindel had slipped into a thoughtful silence, and his fingers tightened involuntarily around Erestor’s own.
Sighing, Erestor tugged at Glorfindel’s hand so that the Seneschal would turn and face him. But Glorfindel did so much more and, turning, took him in his arms, touching their foreheads together.
“What troubles you so?” Erestor breathed softly, looking up into the distant eyes of the Seneschal. Warm breath wafted against Glorfindel’s lips and he sighed, losing himself in its sweet scent.
“Just thoughts. Thoughts of life, death, destiny and failure. That is about all, I reckon.” He made a try at humour, but sighed and closed his eyes when Erestor cupped his hand around his cheek. He felt so forlorn. And the hand caressing him was so warm, so sweet…Glorfindel grasped at it with his own hand, intertwined their fingers once more, and pressed both on his face. It felt like the one and only connection he had left with his sanity.
“Those are many things to think about,” Erestor replied softly. “For one Elf alone. Would you like to share your burdens with me? I am a good listener, or so I am told.”
And so it was that Glorfindel poured his heart out to that beautiful and unknown Elf, telling him of his hopes, of his fears, of his feeling of inadequacy and regret. He spoke in but a whisper, the words tumbling out of his mouth without restrain, fighting for the right to be voiced first. He found he repeated himself many a time, but not because Erestor did not understand; rather, each time he spoke aloud one of his fears Glorfindel seemed to understand it more, and with understanding came the strength to master it.
When he was done, Glorfindel drew a deep breath, and it felt like the first of his life. The fresh air tasted sweet to him, and never had something moved him like the pale light of the stars above. All of his senses seemed to have expanded, and everything around him sang, a sweet tune that reverberated through his very soul. And it was not as if his surroundings had suddenly come alive; rather, he was the one to have opened his eyes at last. He felt light, and even though he still did not know why he was there, and what he would do, he was not worried anymore. Instead, he knew now to be waiting - for what, not even he could tell.
Then, Erestor’s fingers were on him, tracing his brow as if trying to smooth the lines of care residing there.
“My Lord,” he whispered, “why do you torture yourself so? Your wear this pleased mask, but behind I can see the strings attached to your heart, pulling and tearing at it, making you silently bleed.”
Glorfindel felt amazed, and could not breathe. How could he know? How could Erestor know him so deeply, when they did not know each other at all?
“Because unlike others, my Lord, I do watch. And my eyes could never pass over you, or your pain, though hidden it may be.”
“Then, what do your eyes see in me, Erestor? And why do you not run from it?”
“I do not run, because I never could. I can see the darkness in you, buried behind the light. I can see the pain and fear you hide, and how you try not to live your life to its fullest, how you shied away from real happiness, and rather turn towards toil and pain. I know you feel undeserving as well, though I cannot see why.”
“I feel undeserving simply because I am, Erestor. I should not be here, not when others there were, so much worthier than me.”
Erestor sighed, long and deep, and felt compelled to move closer. He brushed Glorfindel’s cheek with his lashes, and then with his breath.
“You try too hard, my Lord.”
Glorfindel laughed bitterly.
“Me? I thought I was not trying hard enough.”
Erestor shook his head, making his hair dance over his shoulders.
“You grieve and turn bitter, bleeding and crying in your quest to become deserving. But know this: you do not have to prove your worth to any. You have been chosen already, and for your past deeds alone. It matters not which one of them made you shine enough to be chosen. You are here, now. That is all that matters. Do not mull over why you have been brought back. You say you have a destiny? Then wait for it, find it, and bring it to completion.”
Glorfindel looked deeply into Erestor’s eyes, and the other Elf denied him not, hiding nothing to his probing if not desperate gaze. At last Glorfindel shuddered, realizing something unexpected and beautiful: those were eyes that truly believed in him, and only wanted for him to do the same.
“But, I do not know what it is I have come back for.”
“You will discover it in time or, who knows? It will come for you. Remember only it is your destiny alone, and for it you have been bought back. I am sure…”
“What of?” Glorfindel was smiling again now, and everything in the World felt right, only because he had Erestor in his arms, with his eyes of gold gazing trustingly into his own, seemingly containing the answer to every question he could have had. Erestor smiled back.
“That your destiny is in Imladris. Why would have you come here, if not? And you will find it.”
“Truly?”
One word, whispered right across his mouth:
“Yes.”
*****
They stood in pleasant silence for a while, content to just be so close. Then the grey light of dawn began to spread through the sky, covering the stars one by one, like a veil sliding before them. Erestor reluctantly moved away.
“We really should go. Our duties call.”
“Can we… meet again?”
“For a night stroll in the garden?” Erestor felt flushed. “It would be my pleasure.”
“No, it would be all mine,” Glorfindel replied throatily, as he clasped Erestor’s hand in his and kissed it reverently. The Advisor smiled despite himself. He was scared still, and dubious, but he could not remember the last time he had felt this good. Probably it had never happened.
“I bid you a goodnight, my Lo-Glorfindel.”
As he turned to leave, Glorfindel felt something inside him stir and cry out. Erestor moved stealthy away, as though a thing imagined that with the light of day flickered and was gone. Glorfindel could already see it, the moment he woke up to find himself alone, to find that Erestor had never been more than a beautiful dream of his, a figment of his lost mind no one else knew or could help him to find again. He could not let him go. Foolish as it may be he felt scared, like a child, of the light surging around them like an opening hand.
And so, before he could stop himself Glorfindel ran after Erestor, caught him and pressed the lithe body to his own, back to chest. Standing so close to him, Glorfindel could feel his mild scent fill his nostrils, and the warmth of his body emanating through the light fabric.
Would Erestor’s skin taste of honey and milk, he wondered. It certainly smelled like so. Would it be as soft under his questing fingers as it was under his awed eyes? And was the rest of his body as soft and velvety as his cheeks, and just as pale? Would his throaty voice rise in passion, or become even lower? Would he writhe, were Glorfindel to touch him, or would he run? Would he tremble and hide, or meet him on? Would he be pliant and mould to his will, or rather turn Glorfindel’s world upside down with his whims?
When the Advisor finally stopped squirming, heart still thundering in his chest, Glorfindel leaned down and placed his chin on Erestor’s shoulder, breathing erratically against the curve his cheek, now gleaming in a pale ray of sun.
“No, do not leave,” he whispered huskily into a delicate ear. “Dance with me?”
Erestor gasped, looking up in surprise. Dance? To what music? And why? Why there, why now, why him? One of his old fantasies, one of those with them sitting together and laughing friendly, flashed before his mind. But no, Erestor had buried those silly hopes where they could do no harm. His logic mind knew only too well that he and Glorfindel could never be; for they were too different, one shy and pensive, the other open and instinctive; one logical and calm, the other emotional and twisted; one a very ordinary looking Elf, the other almost a deity.
Yet, hadn’t all his estimations been proved wrong? He knew now that deep down, in their hearts, they were as similar as kindred spirits…
But there was no explanation as to why Glorfindel would cradle Elrond’s cranky Chief Advisor to his chest like a most precious thing! There was no reason for them to dance, and without music too, like foolish Elflings!
Yet… could Erestor deny really the connection he felt, both on his skin and deep in his heart? He was happy now, so happy, and only because he could feel Glorfindel’s heart beating, quick and strong, against him. He was happy like he had never thought he would be, in his perfectly planned life…
His mind was confused while his heart was sure; emotion and logic warred inside him over the most simple of thing: happiness. And he knew not what to do. Take a chance now, and risk finding sorrow at the end of their road, or plunge himself willingly into despair, only because of fear?
“I…”
Turning to face Glorfindel, Erestor swallowed the lump that had suddenly filled his throat (oh, this was so, so illogical!) and nodding, he carefully wrapped his arms around the Seneschal’s neck. They began to sway, moving at the gentle pace of their beating hearts, and everything around them - the sky, the sun, the blushing roses - simply ceased to exist.
Erestor could not contain a sigh, and lowered his head to rest on Glorfindel’s broad shoulder. He felt safe in the circle of those arms that were so powerful and yet could handle him so gently.
“Erestor,” Glorfindel began after a time, still spinning the lovely Advisor gently around, refusing to ever let him go. “Do you think it possible, that the Valar sent me back for… well… you?”
Erestor looked at him, eyes going wide.
“I do not see how. I am… such an ordinary Elf, really. Why would they want you to come back for me?”
“Maybe…” For the first time in what felt like eternity Glorfindel smiled, without restrains, and it was mischievous and warm and handsome at the same time. Erestor’s voice shook when he asked him what were his thoughts.
“I was thinking you might not be just my mission.”
“No?”
“Negative.”
“T-then what?” Erestor looked like a cornered deer, his eyes wide and shining in the near-darkness. But how could he not feel like that, excited and a little frightened, with Glorfindel looking at him like a wolf would his prey?
“Maybe you are my reward.”
The words made him stiffen.
“Your…?”
“My sweet, sweet love born too far away in time for me to find him, if not by dying and coming back…”
“Glorfindel! This… is madness!”
“Love always is.”
“But I…”
“You what?”
“This is most illogical.”
“Again, I am forced to point out the obvious to you. Love is illogical. That is part of its charm.”
“It is foolish.”
“Exactly.”
“And reckless.”
“You stole the words from me, really.”
“Not to mention a complete folly.”
“We agree on that.”
The dance came to a stop, and they stood watching each other, feet bare over the grass wet with sparkling dew, and the raising sun warmed them both.
“We are talking about two different things.”
“Like many lovers do.”
“You are impossible.”
“Thank you.”
“Glorfindel…”
“Kiss me?”
“…I beg your pardon…?”
“If you do not, I will. Kiss me.”
“But…”
“Now. Or get ready to be ravished.”
Erestor laughed. He felt light-headed and a bit sly. For once, he cared not for logic, for manners, for property. He cared not for the world, that silent little thing that surrounded them like a faded curtain. There was nothing else that mattered now, other than Glorfindel. So he smiled, and smiling, he brought his arms back around Glorfindel’s neck, raising himself on tiptoes to look at him square in the eyes.
“Is that a promise, or a threat?”
“A bit of both, I suppose.”
“Then…” Erestor let his words hanging, and leaning all the way up he pressed his lips to Glorfindel’s in a sweet, lingering kiss. Glorfindel knew that after his boisterous demand he should take at least some initiative.
Or move.
Yes, press back against those deliciously soft lips would be a good start. But he just could not do anything. The exact moment their lips had touched Glorfindel had known he was right. Erestor was his destined - he had come through death and time just to find him.
Judging by the way Erestor was looking at him now, wonderingly and a little breathless, he must have felt that too, that undeniable pull, that fire rushing through the veins. And now the Advisor was fingering Glorfindel’s features with awe clear in his eyes. He barely brushed the skin with but the tips of his fingers, as softly as he would rose petals, almost reverently, and when he stopped it was only to place a soft trail of kisses down his brow, his nose, and then, at last, his lips, lifting his hand gingerly to run his fingers through Glorfindel’s hair.
Glorfindel’s mind snapped. It was too sweet, too warm, too right - simply too much. He swooped down, capturing Erestor in his arms even as he immersed his tongue in the willing mouth.
What followed was a dance, and a battle as well. Tongues met, breaths mingled and moans were swallowed as the sweet, almost hesitant kiss escalated into something new, something powerful that made them tingle with need. They were like wanderers lost in a desert, and their kiss was water. They drank from each other eagerly, and then slowed, as if wanting to savour the taste, to commit it to memory for all time.
When they finally parted it was only to stand brow to brow, Glorfindel’s arms around Erestor’s waist, and Erestor’s arms wound about Glorfindel’s neck, as he stood precariously on tiptoe.
Glorfindel grinned, then laughed, then threw his head back in a full shout as he grasped Erestor by the middle and spun the now giggling Advisor around. When he settled him back on terra firma, he proceeded to pepper his face and neck with quick, sloppy kisses (like any good Elfling would do with his crush) and cried:
“Dear Gods, Erestor… I love you!”
“You barely know me!” replied Erestor, but he too laughed, leaning into each brush of his lips, because Glorfindel’s joy was infectious.
“So? I love you. You are the one for me. My destiny. My Love. My own.” He said between kisses. “Mine, all mine, my Erestor…”
When he was done drowning the Advisor in kisses, Glorfindel released him, and took a firm hold of his hand. He knew his quest for answers was not over with: he still needed to find his mission, the one thing he had been brought back to do; but he knew now he did not have to make his journey alone. The Valar had been kind to him, and gave him happiness to match the glow of the stars.
As he stood there, he caught a glimpse in his mind of things yet to come, of a Dark Wraith-King on a battlefield, and ghostly riders in the snow; he sensed great tragedies and tears coming their way, and a voice lamenting the loss of Hope, but it was gone too quickly to grasp its sense. He wanted to ask so many questions, to do so many things at once - laughing and crying and running and just stay here, embracing his love in the warm rays of the sun.
“Come,” he said instead, “I will walk you to your rooms.”
Erestor let himself be dragged forward by his hand, both of them with their feet still bare, and raised an eyebrow at the blonde Lord.
“Is this all a ploy to get me cornered and alone in my rooms? Where you can do whatever you please with me and none will hear me scream?”
“Oh, they will hear you scream my name, sooner or later. But, no, I want to court you properly. Thus, I will be the perfect gentle-elf and content myself with just leaving you at your door with a kiss - on your hand.”
“I may consider hitting you, if you dare doing that.”
“And I would still love you. What a lucky Elf you are.”
“And what a foolish Elf, are you.”
“I could change. For you, I could do anything. Catch the stars, dry the sea, put the sun in the sky even at night… why not changing myself?”
“Because I would disown you, if you did it.”
“Disown me? Dear, you cannot quite do such thing.”
“And why is that?”
“Because, my foolish Advisor, you love me, and you cannot live without me.”
“Most illogical, but very good point, indeed.”
Glorfindel’s smile grew even wider as he brought Erestor sweetly to him and kissed his brow. High overhead, a sudden rainbow stretched like a glittering arch in the clear sky. The first timid flowers began to bloom in a multitude around them, all at once, even as those that flourished at night still held up, proud and beautiful in the pale warmth.
“Shall we go now, love?”
“To wherever you will lead me.”
- Fin.