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Imladris
200, Third Age
In hindsight, filling the bottom of Glorfindel’s boots with pebbles from the riverbed wasn’t one of his better ideas.
Elrohir let his breath out slowly through gritted teeth and drew in another shallow one. Sweat dripped down his face and trickled slowly past his parched lips. He wanted to move. He doubted that he’d be able to if Glorfindel ever let him. The younger twin’s abdomen and legs ached almost as much as his arms and shoulders from the strain of holding himself up above the hard packed earth of the training field.
“Had enough?” The deep voice of the captain of the valley’s guard came to his ears before dark boots appeared in his vision.
Despite his feelings of remorse, Elrohir didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but his arms had begun to tremble even more than they already were. “Yes, my Lord.”
“You may relax.”
Elrohir’s arms gave way and he collapsed onto the ground. He rolled over to see Glorfindel towering over him, a scowl on his face.
“I didn’t realize that one of the rocks was sharp. I’m sorry,” Elrohir said.
“Do you never think before you act, then?”
Elrohir felt heat rising up into his face, but he could think of nothing to say.
“Go, then, and find something more useful to do,” Glorfindel said.
Elrohir stood up and began dusting off his clothing. He started to leave the training ground, but something held him back. “My Lord, if you’d permit me, I would treat the wound that I caused.”
“It’s already been seen to, but thank you,” Glorfindel said curtly.
Elrohir dipped his head. The heat of shame washed over him, and he turned, heading back toward the house. Causing hurt had never been his intention.
Elladan met him halfway to the house and fell into step beside him. “What did you do this time, and what was your punishment?”
Elrohir told him, rotating his shoulders as he did so. All he wanted was a hot bath and a quiet breakfast. He didn’t want to be interrogated by anyone else, even his twin. He supposed he wouldn’t be so lucky if their father was told what he’d done. But Glorfindel hadn’t told the Lord of Imladris anything else that Elrohir had done. Then again, a salamander in the golden-haired warrior’s morning porridge hadn’t caused any pain. Nor had shortening his trouser legs and his tunic sleeves. Elrohir couldn’t help wondering why the captain had kept silent.
“Why do you do it?” Elladan asked. “You know it only makes him angry.”
“He’s too stuffy.”
“Stuffy.” Elladan repeated the word, eyeing him curiously.
Elrohir looked away. “I don’t know if I can explain it but yes, he is. He’s overly formal all the time. Surely you’ve noticed?”
“And putting ink in his wine and so forth is supposed to make him relax his manners?”
Elrohir opened his mouth and closed it again. Maybe Elladan had a point. It was foolish to keep goading Glorfindel. He’d long since stopped playing practical jokes on everyone else. Why he kept poking at the famed warrior he didn’t know. Maybe the captain had a right to be angry and retaliate.
“I have chores in the herb garden,” Elrohir said abruptly. “I’ll join you for the noon meal.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Do you think I’m stuffy?” Glorfindel asked his companion later that day, trying to keep the note of indignation out of his voice.
Erestor paused, wine goblet halfway to his lips and stared at him with shrewd eyes. The chief counselor smiled as if he’d discovered something amusing, and Glorfindel wished he’d kept the question to himself. He didn’t even know why the words had burst from his lips like an unruly horse from its stall.
He hadn’t meant to overhear the words. He’d been on his way to the guardhouse but had turned back to the training grounds at the last moment. He’d decided to apologize to Elrohir for being so hard on him. It was only that he’d been at the butt of the younger twin’s pranks for a while now, and he was unsure why, and how to respond to the constant jokes at his expense. Passing behind a hedge, he hadn’t noticed anyone along the other side of it, as he was distracted by his thoughts. And then, he’d heard the twins approaching, and speaking quite loudly. Glorfindel could only stand there, his ears burning, and his brow furrowed.
“You? Stuffy? Surely not,” Erestor replied. “What has Elrohir done now?”
Glorfindel sighed and told him. “I wouldn’t have minded too much, but one of the rocks was rather sharp and I cut my foot. He offered to tend to it, but I told him it was taken care of. Who knows what else he’d do with my bare foot at his mercy.”
“Elrohir’s played pranks on just about everyone in the valley. He’ll move on to someone else soon enough.”
Glorfindel pressed his lips together. He certainly hoped so. Everyone in Imladris had made him feel welcome when he’d been newly arrived from Valinor. Even Elrohir. But that was before the pranks had begun. Was he truly so formal that the younger twin found him distasteful? The thought left him feeling hurt. No, annoyed. Definitely annoyed. Glorfindel glanced toward him, frowning. To his consternation Elrohir was looking at him. Their gazes met and held, and the golden-haired warrior’s heart stumbled to a halt before speeding back up again. His frown intensified, and Elrohir glanced hastily away.
“You know what you should do?” Erestor asked now.
Glorfindel tore his gaze from Elrohir and shook his head. “No. No idea.”
“Get even. Play a prank on him.”
Glorfindel turned his attention back to Erestor. “Play a prank?”
Erestor nodded. “Something completely unexpected, but something that will make him realize he’s gone too far.”
“If having him polish my armor didn’t do it, why do you think a prank would?”
“Turnabout is fair play,” Erestor replied. “It might be more apt to make him think twice rather than you making sure he’s built up his strength.”
“Very funny,” Glorfindel said, scowling. “Very funny.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What am I doing up here?
From his perch above the pathway the family liked to walk together in the evenings, Glorfindel once again questioned the wisdom of listening to Erestor. Wise counselor Erestor. Turnabout, he’d suggested, would make Elrohir stop his pranks. With Glorfindel’s luck the younger twin was just as likely to employ even more.
He hoped they’d come by soon though. For all that he was a reborn Elf granted extra powers by Manwë, skillfully and gracefully climbing a tree one-handed wasn’t one of them. The mud he’d scooped up from the riverbank was cold and gloppy and oozing between his fingers.
At last, he heard Elrohir’s voice. Glorfindel’s heart sped up, and he peered down through the leaves. Dark hair appeared beneath him, and he let go of the handful of mud. His aim was true. Mud splattered all over the dark head below.
“What on--?”
Glorfindel froze, horrified. That was not Elrohir’s voice.
“Elrond … Oh my goodness!” There was a peel of laughter from below.
“It isn’t funny, Celebrían,” Elrond said.
“You’re quite right, dear.” There was another snicker. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Glorfindel waited, barely breathing, as the sound of footsteps retreating toward the house reached his ears. All was quiet below, but he waited a while longer. And then to add to his horror, as he looked to be sure that there was no one else lurking about, warm gray eyes met his, and a wide mouth curved into an almost conspiratorial smile.
Glorfindel squeezed his eyes shut. He should have known he’d be caught, but did it have to be Elrohir?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Elrohir shifted beneath his father’s sharp gaze. Beside him, Glorfindel sat still; he might have been a wall for all that he moved. It was what the younger twin had come to expect from the captain. Rigid discipline. He didn’t know why it irked him, but it did. Slanting a glance toward the famed golden-haired warrior, Elrohir noticed a slight tic in his jaw. So, he was flesh and blood after all. Well, the sharp rock in his boot had proven that, but the hint of vulnerability made something shift inside the dark-haired Elf. He wanted to reach out, stroke a hand down that strong arm. He wanted to kiss the scowl off firmly molded lips. Catching his breath, he turned his attention back to his father with a slight frown.
“Are you still with us?” Elrond asked.
“Yes, Father.”
“I know you enjoy your little pranks, but to draw Lord Glorfindel into them--.”
“But Father, he wasn’t--.”
“My Lord, I beg pardon--.”
“That’s enough.” Elrond pushed his chair back and began pacing behind his desk. At last he paused and pinched the ridge of his nose. “You two. I don’t know what’s going on between you, but you need to reconcile.”
Elrohir said nothing. Beside him, Glorfindel was also silent.
“I need messages delivered to Círdan. I want you two to take them.”
“But why?” Elrohir asked. “Can’t you send a messenger bird?”
Elrond leaned over the desk with a frown. “I could, but that isn’t my wish. My wish is to stop learning second-hand how you’ve been tormenting Lord Glorfindel with your foolish pranks. I want you to spend time together and come to an understanding.”
It was on the tip of Elrohir’s tongue to question what would happen if they didn’t, but he held back.
“When do we leave?” Glorfindel asked after a moment.
“First thing tomorrow,” Elrond replied. “That will be all.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mithlond
Glorfindel knocked on the door to Elrohir’s guest chamber. It was next to his own, and they were to meet to walk together to Círdan’s apartments for the evening meal. They were leaving Mithlond in the morning. The captain found himself looking forward to a few minutes alone with Elrohir, but not returning home, where no doubt, things would go on as before.
The thought unexpectedly irked him. Elrohir had been pleasant company on this mission. And that, too, had troubled Glorfindel. He was so used to being on his guard around the younger twin that he didn’t know how to feel about not having to, if only for a little while. It was probably best not to dwell on it or get too used to this different Elrohir. Or was he really that different?
It was true that he wasted time playing pranks, but he worked hard on the training field and Glorfindel had never heard complaints of bad behavior on patrols. He studied hard to be a healer. He could recite epic tales and poetry, and he even made up his own. Some weren’t even bawdy.
When he was bidden to enter, he was puzzled at first. Elrohir wasn’t anywhere to be seen. But then he saw strands of dark hair lifting in the breeze. The younger twin was standing on outside, looking out toward the west. Glorfindel’s heart clenched, and he strode onto the balcony, heart thudding. Elrohir was indeed listening to the sea. Did he hear and heed its call?
The thought of losing his Elrohir speared through Glorfindel, lodged in his heart. His Elrohir? He loved Elrohir? When had that happened? Surely he’d have known before now that such feelings were there. But why Elrohir? The dark-haired warrior was exasperating. Infuriating.
Except, he was honorable too, and kind. Even his pranks hadn’t been truly harmful. In hindsight they’d been a reminder that Glorfindel shouldn’t take himself too seriously, which, the Balrog Slayer had to own, he had a little. Despite Elrohir’s pranks there was an earnestness about him that the captain admired.
But love?
Yes, and why not. Elrohir was strong and self-assured, serious and filled with mirth. He was kind. A mass of contradictions that Glorfindel could spend eternity discovering. He wanted that eternity with the dark-haired warrior. Would he have the chance?
“What are you doing?” Glorfindel asked, and then he winced because his voice sounded so harsh even to his own ears.
Elrohir turned and gazed at him. Then he smiled softly, and his gray eyes lit up with something unfathomable. Glorfindel caught his breath. Why had he never truly noticed until now how comely Elrohir was?
“I was listening to the sea.”
“You shouldn’t. It’s dangerous,” Glorfindel said, heart pounding so hard from the combination of fear and love that surely Elrohir could hear it.
“I’m aware,” Elrohir replied. “But it’s also beautiful.”
“There are things in this world that are also beautiful.”
Elrohir moved close, studying him. Glorfindel stared back, still reeling from his newfound knowledge.
“Yes, there are,” Elrohir said, and this time his smile was brilliant.
Glorfindel couldn’t move. He could barely breathe. “You don’t feel its call?” he whispered, more afraid of the answer than he’d been of anything since his re-birth.
“No,” Elrohir said softly. “It doesn’t call to me.”
Relief flooding through him, Glorfindel could only nod.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Imladris, two weeks later
Elrohir stood on the edge of the room, watching everyone enjoy themselves. They were back home now, and he wished that they weren’t. But as he’d done on the journey to Mithlond, Glorfindel had set a hard pace, as if he couldn’t wait to return home and be away from Elrohir’s company. It had hurt to think so, but there was no other conclusion to be drawn. Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t held back the truth. That it wasn’t the sea that called to his heart, it was Glorfindel.
He glanced again toward the golden-haired warrior. Glorfindel was so strong and beautiful. But he wasn’t as aloof as Elrohir had thought. There were flashes of humor even before their mission, and goodness knew, he had a warm smile for most. Not for Elrohir, though. Not for a while. It was his own fault, his and his stupid pranks, but something about the captain had always made Elrohir feel off-center. Now he knew. He’d realized on the balcony that last night in Mithlond what it was. He was in love with Glorfindel. He still couldn’t believe it. And the way the Balrog Slayer had looked at him had given Elrohir hope. Only, the return trip and the days since had given the younger twin the awful feeling that he’d been mistaken.
Elrohir shook his head. Thoughts like this were getting him nowhere. He said goodnight to his brother and turned away, leaving behind the warmth of the hall. The corridor was cool and quiet. Too quiet. His thoughts rushed in on him again, the love that he couldn’t reveal. Maybe someday, but not yet.
“Elrohir?”
He’d only gone a few steps, but Elrohir halted at the sound of Glorfindel’s melodious voice.
“My Lord?” he said, turning to face the captain. “Is anything wrong?”
“That’s what I was wondering. We’ve been back for three days, and you haven’t done anything.”
“Done anything?” Elrohir asked blankly. He noticed then that Glorfindel’s eyes were shadowed, and his own expression cleared. “Oh, no. I’m through with jokes at your expense. I’m through with them, period.”
“I see. Now what?”
Elrohir’s heart skipped a beat. “I don’t know,” he said, and truthfully, he didn’t.
They stared at each other a long while, or so it seemed to Elrohir. But then he moved, or Glorfindel moved, it wasn’t clear which, and it didn’t really matter, when he thought about it later. A warm hand cupped his face, while his own hands moved to clasp the captain’s shirt. Firm lips covered his, sending a frisson of sensation through his body, and Elrohir moaned. All too quickly the kiss ended, and they gazed at each other again.
They spoke at the same time. “I love you.”
Glorfindel’s smile was radiant. Elrohir wasn’t sure, but he thought his own might have been. It didn’t seem possible that his love was returned and not have the feeling pouring from his soul.
“May I court you? Would you mind?” Elrohir asked.
“I think I’d like that,” Glorfindel said softly. “Should I expect another frog in my chambers, or … How does this work?”
Chagrined, Elrohir shook his head. “I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry about everything.”
“It’s all right, beloved. I was only joking.”
“You, joking?”
“What? Am I really so stuffy that you don’t think I can make jests?” Glorfindel asked, a teasing note in his voice.
Elrohir groaned and closed his eyes for a moment. “I shouldn’t have said that. That wasn’t what I wanted to say at all.”
“What did you want to say?” Glorfindel’s voice was low. Serious.
“That you’re perfect,” Elrohir said, just before crushing his lips to the captain’s for another, longer kiss. Then he drew back and gazed into Glorfindel’s warm blue eyes. “Absolutely perfect.”
The End