Second Lives, Second Chances by chrissystriped

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Chapter Six

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“The captain says, we’ll reach Lindon in the morning”, Glorfindel said as he entered Rog’s cabin, carrying a tray with two plates of stew.

“Good, I’ll be happy to have earth under my feet again”, Rog said.

He folded the map he’d been poring over for most of the journey and accepted his plate. He motioned for Glorfindel to sit on the bed while the stayed seated on the single chair.

“And room around me when I sleep.”

It hadn’t helped his nightmares that he felt like he was underground in this shoebox of a cabin. What had helped was Glorfindel sleeping beside him. He’d always been a solitary person and he liked to think he could take care of himself, but it felt good to be woken when Glorfindel started to notice him becoming restless, and a light already kindled when he opened his eyes — not to mention being able to cling to his lover until the webs of memory had dissolved.

“I’ll be glad to be able to stretch my legs and don’t bump my head into low beams”, Glorfindel answered. “It will be good to be on land again. But it also means tonight are our last hours together.”

Rog touched Glorfindel’s cheek with the back of his hand. “You sound as if I’ll be gone forever. I won’t, I promise.”

Glorfindel smiled sadly. “And I’ll look forward to your return.”

Rog was relieved that he didn't try to persuade him to stay. He knew of course that Glorfindel didn’t want him to leave, but it felt good that he accepted his decision. He hadn’t told him, but he hoped to maybe find some of his family again. He knew it was not impossible that they’d never left the area they had lived in before he’d been captured, but the lands had changed since then and he did not know if he would still find it. The maps of the Númenóreans didn’t reach that far east.

He took the plate from Glorfindel’s hand and pushed him back on the bed to be able to slide on top of him.

“Let’s make the most of these last hours”, he said, kissing Glorfindel and starting to undress him.

Glorfindel’s skin was sun-kissed and almost seemed to glow in the gentle light of the lamp. Rog pressed kisses down his neck and chest, enjoying the soft sighs and little moans he could draw from Glorfindel. He’d learned to read him, in the past years, knew all the most sensitive places of his body.

(Knew also that he didn’t like his hair pulled, although he’d never actually told him — he wondered now, if that was a remainder of the past, too.)

He nibbled at the skin right above Glorfindel’s navel and hear his breath hitch, his still clothed erection was pressing against him and Rog cupped it, running his thumb with slight pressure over the bulge. Glorfindel moaned loudly. Rog grinned and stood up. Glorfindel looked at him with lust-dark eyes, his face flushed. He reached down to open his trousers and stroke himself as Rog undressed, his eyes roaming over his body. Rog shuddered with arousal.

“Come here”, Glorfindel said with husky voice and Rog crawled back over him. “Not like this.”

Rog let himself be turned on his side, it was a tight fit on the small bed, but Glorfindel clearly had something in mind. Glorfindel reached for his hand and led it to his cock.

“I want to make you come, while you do the same to me”, he said, wrapping his long fingers around Rog’s arousal.

Rog thrust into his hand as he started to stroke Glorfindel’s cock. Their bodies moved together, breaths and moans mingling. Rog sank into the blue of Glorfindel’s eyes who held him with his gaze.

“Beautiful”, Glorfindel moaned. “Your face… so beautiful… in the throes of… of passion.”

Sometimes he really didn’t mind Glorfindel talking so much. Rog leaned his forehead against Glorfindel’s shoulder as he came, his body shuddering, mind aglow. His hand squeezed Glorfindel’s arousal, thumb sliding over the wet head, until Glorfindel came, too, moaning his name over and over. Rog wished they didn’t have to part, but he didn’t say it out loud, Glorfindel had his duty, he couldn’t come with him.

‘What have you done to me’, he thought. Before they’d met again, he’d been happy alone, now his heart ached at the parting. Glorfindel did not need to be afraid that he wouldn’t come back, he couldn’t bear the thought himself.

 

Glorfindel stepped onto the stone of the harbour, it still felt like it was moving under him after all the time at sea and he tried to not look drunk as he walked toward the crowd of people awaiting him. There were guards keeping the folk back — it looked like all the elves left in Middle-earth had decided to come and look at him. Glorfindel winced inwardly at the thought of how often he would be forced into recounting his ‘heroic’ death.

He had no difficulty picking out Gil-galad. He only wore a circlet that could almost be called modest, but his robes were the blue of the House of Fingolfin and he had the family-resemblance — as had the elf standing next to him and carrying the staff of a herald. Elrond, great-grandson of his king — his old king, Glorfindel corrected himself, he still thought of Turgon that way. He noticed the broach of an eight-pointed star that held his cloak together and wondered if the things he’d heard about the sons of Eärendil being raised by their kidnappers and coming to love them were true.

“Glorfindel, Emissary of the Valar, Lord of the Golden Flower”, Elrond called, executing his office.

Glorfindel thought with amusement, that neither of them had ever met him before. He could be anyone, for all they knew. He bowed to the king, concentrating on the situation at hand.

“My King Gil-galad, I am returned by the grace of the Valar to fight at your side. Allow me to pledge my sword to you.”

He drew his weapon and knelt, offering the hilt to Gil-galad. The king laid his hand on the pommel.

“I accept your fealty, Lord Glorfindel. Rise.” As the crowd broke out in cheers, Gil-galad added under his breath: “And now let us get to somewhere more quiet. We have to talk, I think.”

Glorfindel nodded and followed the king and his herald through the crowd, a way being opened by the guard. He wondered, if Rog had already managed to slip away. It likely hadn’t been that hard in the commotion. They walked through the paved streets of the city towards the palace that seemed to stand in the centre of it but behind its own walls.

“My arrival seems to be common knowledge here”, Glorfindel remarked once the streets got a little quieter. He’d known Gil-galad had been informed, but…

“If a giant eagle waits on the palace walls to bring a message, it’s not really possible to keep things secret”, Gil-galad said flatly.

“Ah, not known for their subtlety, the Valar, are they?”, Glorfindel said with a wry smile.

He’d always felt slightly uncomfortable whenever he’d chanced to be present when one of the eagles brought a message to Turgon. It had always seemed to him that they scrutinised him, wondering if he would taste good.

“You’d know, I guess.” Gil-galad huffed, a smile tugging at his lips.

Glorfindel decided he liked the king. “I haven’t had nearly as much contact with them as you seem to think.” He'd only went to Ilmarin every year for ten years on the day Manwë listened to the petitions of everyone who wished to talk to him. He thought that maybe it was more them wanting to get rid of this disturbance than a real understanding of his desire that finally had made them agree to him travelling back to Middle-earth.

They’d reached the palace and Gil-galad led him to his office. He offered Glorfindel a seat and sat behind his desk. Elrond fetched a chair that stood behind another desk — his own, Glorfindel guessed — and sat beside him.

“What brings you back, Lord Glorfindel?”, the king asked, folding his hands and following every motion of his with his eyes.

Glorfindel had the disquieting feeling of being seen through.

“I want to help you here. I could not find peace in Aman, knowing that you still fight the Darkness.”

Gil-galad lifted an eyebrow and for a moment he looked so much like his uncle that Glorfindel’s heart hurt.

“The eagle made it sound like the Valar sent you — and you specifically — to remind us we are not forgotten.”

“The Valar allowed it after much deliberation”, Glorfindel felt compelled to state. “It is true that they haven’t turned their backs on Middle-earth like they did before. They watch. But they won’t intervene again. Not after what happened to Beleriand.” Glorfindel had been horrified when he’d heard. The continent, he and so many of his friends had fought and died for, gone. Drowned in the sea. “But it was my wish, my initiative, that brought me here, not a command by them.”

“That’s good to hear. I was a little worried.”

About him? Had Gil-galad expected him to try and take command, because the Valar had sent him?

“I am your servant, my king”, Glorfindel said and stood up to bow to him.

Gil-galad gave him a warm smile. “We can certainly use your knowledge and experience. Now, my herald would like to ask you something, if I’m not wrong.”

Elrond was pale when he looked at him. “Do you know anything about my parents. Eärendil and Elwing, I mean.”

“I know who your parents are, Elrond Peredhel”, Glorfindel said with a kind smile. “And in fact, I do. They asked me to bring a message to you.”

Eärendil had been a boy when he’d last seen him, now he was a man. He’d left the Silmaril on Vingilot, anchored near the Door of Night, when he and Elwing had visited him shortly before his departure.

“These are their words: We love you, being parted from you pains us, but thus is our Doom. We do not begrudge you the love that grew between you and the Fëanorions. We would not have wished you to grow up loveless and lonely.

Elwing said: I did not know you and Elros were alive when I jumped. There were so many bodies and you’d been at the beach, without cover, when they came. I could not think clearly at the time. My mind fancied I was in Doriath. I thought of you as my dead brothers half of the time. I’m sorry. I would have fought for you, if I had known.”

There were tears in Elrond’s eyes and Glorfindel politely looked away.

“How can I be of service to you, my king”, he said to Gil-galad. “A lot of the veterans of the War of Wrath have sailed and after the sinking of Beleriand we were more intent on building up an infrastructure than an army. But there’s Darkness growing in the East and it is high time we readied ourselves. I need someone who has trained recruits before. I’ll introduce you to my other captains tomorrow.”

“I will do my best to build you an army ready to fight”, Glorfindel promised.

He hoped there were at least some battle-hardened soldiers left. It would make things a lot easier for him.