Second Lives, Second Chances by chrissystriped

Chapter Eleven

Glorfindel stood at the quay of Mithlond, looking up the main road of the town. He’d not seen Rog for almost a year, but by then the date of Elrond’s departure had been set. Glorfindel had been nervous when he’d told him he would leave with Elrond — he knew, after all, that Rog had never really planned on sailing back to Aman. But Rog had only said, in that case he wanted to say goodbye to his family and had left the next day.

Glorfindel had become more and more nervous when the time of their departure came closer and closer and Rog had not shown up. What if he’d changed his mind? What if he’d decided to stay with his family after all?

“Glorfindel.” Elrond walked up to him. “We have to leave soon. The tide…”

“I know. Just a moment more”, Glorfindel whispered.

‘Please’, he thought. ‘Please, my love. Don’t stay, don’t leave me.’

They’d finally married in what was now considered the second year of the Third Age in a mixture of noldorin and avarin customs, but Glorfindel knew — had been told by Rog from the start — that Rog’s people didn’t consider a marriage as binding as the Noldor did. Rog was a freedom loving person, he wasn’t one to be caught and kept — and Glorfindel had been able to accept that, knowing Rog loved him indeed. But to think that it would mean in the end to let him go…

A figure was walking briskly down the main road and Glorfindel gripped Elrond’s arm.

“That’s him.”

It had to be! His heart might break if it was not.

Rog had fallen into a trot, he’d probably seen that the ship was ready to sail.

“I want to come with you!”, he called. “Glorfindel, I want  to come with you!”

Glorfindel laughed and ran towards him. They fell into each other’s arms.

“You did not think I would let you leave without me, did you?”, Rog said, smiling gently up to him.

“I… admit I doubted towards the end.” Glorfindel kissed him on the lips. “You cut it close, my love.”

Glorfindel took a deep breath and cupped Rog’s face in his hands.

“I would not wish you to make this journey just for me”, he said, the words catching in his throat. “I want you to be happy and there won’t be a way back this time.”

“I know.” Rog’s face was hard — Glorfindel knew by now that he was hiding his feelings that way. “But I also know that the time of the Quendi in Middle-earth is over. My people don’t want to see it, yet, but I can see it everywhere. The Secondborn grow more numerous by the day, the forests are dwindling. I cannot say I feel not resentful about that, but I know I can’t change it. My people will fade with the forest in the end, but I do not wish to fade. I want to be with you.”

Rog rose on his tiptoes and whispered into his ear: “My first name is Tamwë and I give it to you to keep save, my love.”

Glorfindel felt tears rush to his eyes. He’d given up hope of ever hearing Rog’s given name and he knew how much it meant to learn it now.

“I feel honoured by your trust, Tamwë, my love.”

Glorfindel jumped when Elrond coughed from where he’d stepped back to give them some privacy.

“I hate to break up this reunion, but…”

“The flood, I know.”

Glorfindel took Rog’s — no, Tamwë’s — hand in his and led him up the gangplank. On his wedding day he’d thought he was as happy as he’d ever be in his life, but now he was even happier — because today he’d found out that Rog had indeed chosen him. To be with forever.