Second Lives, Second Chances by chrissystriped

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Chapter Five

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The rock under his feet shook. Rog stumbled, narrowly avoiding to fall into the forge fire. A smell of sulphur and hot metal was in the air, ash at the back of his throat. Rog coughed and wished he could have some water. He stifled a scream when the whip of an overseer licked over his bare back…

 

Rog woke with racing heart and bathed in cold sweat. The ground was still moving, it was pitch dark. Woken from a nightmare into the same awful reality. Someone’s arms were around him, the thrall's quarters were confined and they often clung to each other for warmth but he couldn’t bear a touch right now. They wouldn’t let go when he moved, so he rammed his elbow into the person’s gut.

Rog stumbled to his feet, colliding with a wall. He found a handle, opened the door, stumbled forward unseeing. He just wanted to get away! He came to his senses when he stepped on deck, the cool, salty sea-wind slapping his face. Sails billowed above him, ropes creaked.

The ship that was bringing them to Middle-earth.

The watch hailed him.

“I’m fine”, he called back with a croak in his voice.

Rog realised he was naked and remembered he’d punched someone. Still feeling a little befuddled he walked back down to his cabin.

Had he fallen asleep in Glorfindel’s bed? He started to tremble. No! That would destroy everything they had. Glorfindel — the Golden Lord, the favourite of the Valar who was even allowed to go back to Middle-earth — wouldn’t want to be with him, now that he knew how broken he still was.

“Rog, what’s wrong?”, Glorfindel asked with a voice rough from sleep. He had wrapped his blanket around himself and stood in the door of his cabin opposite from Rog’s. “What happened?”

Rog felt sick as he met his eyes. “Do you have to ask?” He fumbled with the latch of his door. “Please, just leave me alone. As soon as we’ll reach the shore, I’ll be gone.”

“What are you talking about?”

Glorfindel gripped his shoulder and Rog froze, before slapping his hand aside. His heart raced, muscles tense and ready to fight.

“Don’t touch me”, he snarled.

Glorfindel stared at him, his eyes brimming with tears.

“You’re leaving me?”, he whispered. “What did I do wrong? Please, Rog, please tell me! I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s not you, it’s me!”, Rog shouted at him, his own tears running down his cheeks. “Can’t you see I’m broken? I left Mandos. I should be healed but I still have nightmares! Something’s clearly wrong with me! And you deserve better.”

“You think I don’t want you anymore because you have nightmares?” Glorfindel reached for him but jerked back before he could touch his skin, remembering his reaction. “Is that why you never wanted to stay the night with me? Rog! I still have nightmares, too! I dream of fire and falling. There’s nothing wrong with you or there’s something wrong with both of us. I love you, please don’t leave me.”

Rog sobbed, feeling all tenseness leave his body, and he sank into Glorfindel’s arms.

“You still want me? You don’t think there’s something wrong with me?”

“Yes, I still want you, and no, I don’t think anything’s wrong with you. Let’s go inside?”

Rog nodded against his chest, the fabric of the sheet smooth on his cheek. Glorfindel led him into his cabin and pulled him on his lap, wrapping them both in his blanket and holding him in a loving embrace.

 

“It’s alright, I won’t turn away from you”, Glorfindel said and kissed Rog’s hair. “Who gave you the idea you aren’t allowed to be affected by your memories?”

“No one talked about it and everyone seemed to think that I would start a new life and forget about the old one.”

Rog sniffed and clung to him. Glorfindel was incredibly relieved that he knew now the source of Rog’s worrying withdrawnness and that it lay not in his person.

“Well, I didn’t particularly invite questions about my old life”, Rog continued. “I’m sure most of the people in that forest town don’t even know who I was. Or would recognise the name of Gondolin, for that matter. Most of them never reached Beleriand in life.”

“I see.” Glorfindel pondered his answer. “I won’t pretend to be an expert in the studies of Mandos, but what I think is this: We stay in Mandos to heal from the life we have led, to make a peace with it, so that we can be reborn again. That does not mean, we forget our first life when we are reborn — or that it does not affect us at all any longer. I don’t think either, that it means, that healing has to be complete when we return to life again. We return, when it is the right time for us and some things might have to be resolved in life.

"For example: I have a fear of heights since that day. How am I to overcome this as long as I lack a body? And also maybe… some things shape us so much that we just have to live with them. I talked to someone about my dreams and he told me to think of the situation before going to bed. To visualise it and imagine how I would change what is going on.”

Rog looked at him, eyebrows drawn together. “How do you do that, when your nightmares are about something that already happened to you?”

“You haven’t yet told me, what you dreamed about”, Glorfindel said and felt Rog fidget in his arms. “You don’t have to”, he hurried to add. “I won’t pry. But you can, if you think it would help. My dreams are usually about the fight with the Balrog, though it isn’t always that clear in the dream. So what I imagine is heavy rain coming down and dousing the flames, someone throwing me a rope as I fall, things like that. It doesn’t always help, but I feel better for doing something about them.”

“It sounds like a strange idea, but maybe it won’t hurt to try.” Rog sighed. “I should have talked to you sooner. I should have trusted you more.”

Glorfindel shrugged, not intending to put blame on him. “I’m just glad it is out now and it is not my fault. I suppose that also means, you won’t leave each night and we can instead spend many nights to come together.”

“Lecher!” Rog chuckled and wiped the last tears off his cheeks.

“If you mean by that, that I’m enjoying to touch you and make you moan and find your pleasure under my hands, then yes I am.” Glorfindel relaxed a little as Rog did, it seemed the crisis was over. “You won’t just vanish the moment the ship reaches shore, will you?”, he asked.

“Not in the way I meant it earlier, no…” Rog took a deep breath. “But I wonder. I don’t want to be recognised, I think. I doubt they’d just let me go, if they do. Maybe it would indeed be better to just slip away discreetly.”

“And you are still sure, you won’t fight? Your hammer could be useful in the battles to come.”

Glorfindel had been briefed about the situation in Middle-earth and the worry of the darkness that was growing in the East. He doubted there would be peace for much longer.

“I am sure. I had my revenge. And that is something I learned in Mandos. I won’t fight the Noldor’s battles.”

Glorfindel thought that the fight against Evil was the business of them all, but he didn’t say it. He didn’t begrudge Rog his wish to live in peace.

“I won’t try to persuade you. I hold to my promise, I won’t cage you.”

Rog turned around and kissed him. “Thank you. I appreciate that. You are very dear to me, never doubt that. But I want to see my home again.”