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'...And Finally'
Part 1
Edoras
Of all the pleasures of my long life, one of the greatest has always
been the time I have been able to spend in company with my children
.Now my last born, the delight of my heart, my night haired,
fearless, fire spirited daughter has come to me and asked if I could
give of my time to go walking up into the wooded hills above this
place with her. For a moment I was overwhelmed with a sense of utter
exhaustion, the world around me stilled, the light seemed to drain,
leaving everything dull and lifeless, and then I remembered to
breathe, to center myself, to face the words that must still be said
between us, and I nodded agreement.
I thought I had learnt a long time ago to hold my ground and face
the inevitable, but I now understood that the last, precious hours
of our time were speeding past to their final conclusion, and I
would have given all I had to add to their measure, just a little
more, just a little longer.
I realized that what was said between us now would be the final
memory of myself that I would leave with her, and knew that I would
have to choose my words carefully, locking my anger and sorrow and
bitter regret behind high walls while I attempted to give her those
things I had tried to bring to these children of my blood and heart
- security, comfort, and a recognition of their worth to me - one
final time.
Unfortunately, choosing my words with care was something I seemed to
have spent a considerable amount of time doing recently towards the
ones who were closest to me, those for whom I cared the most, and I
was starting to tire of picking my way with caution, and of having
to assess every phrase several times before I ever opened my mouth.
I am hardly a stranger to the arts and skills of diplomacy, but
rarely before have I been forced to rely within my personal circle
upon this expertise to such an extent as I have of late.
And now finally, Arwen.
~*~*~*~*~
Minas Tirith
My daughter did not have the honor of being the first of my
offspring to ask recently to share a private conversation with me
which I could be assured of not enjoying - that distinction went, as
usual, to her brothers, my deeply loved but often utterly
incomprehensible sons.
I was taking a rare opportunity to sit with my thoughts in the sun,
relaxing with my eyes closed, enjoying the quiet and the lack of
anything calling for my immediate attention for the first time in
days when trouble arrived on two pairs of silent feet. I had no
warning of its approach. I slowly became aware of the fact that the
sunlight was being blocked. I tired easily these days, I was not as
alert. Until very recently I would have been aware of their presence
well before they reached me.
They crouched, one on either side of me, something which they knew I
found annoying.
"What now, old one," asked Elladan, "sleeping in the sun like a
lizard? Has it come to this?"
"Could be he is sleeping off last night's excesses?" Elrohir . "I
personally thought he was getting a little too venerable to indulge
so deeply - I swear he was trying to match Erestor, cup for cup."
"Never a good idea," agreed his brother.
"Do you two actually want something from me," I growled, "or have
you simply run out of victims to torment?"
My children, familiars of the wild places of the north, had seen
what Minas Tirith had to offer and were bored beyond measure. They
had no responsibilities to keep them occupied, they knew no one save
for a few Rangers, their sister, their foster brother and
Thranduil's son, and as the new queen's visiting brothers it was
required that they be courteous, well presented and completely idle.
As these two had known no idle moment in their lives since they
first began to crawl they found their current situation to be
something close to torture. They had taken to sharing their misery.
"We thought you might care to stretch your ancient limbs
sufficiently to come walk with us," Elladan explained. "Much better
for you than lying around like this."
"You risk growing as fat as a mortal," Elrohir agreed.
"Walk where?" I asked, sensing a purpose behind the suggestion.
"Just walk." Elladan, the literal and less imaginative one, the
so-called sensible one smiled blandly at me. "Have a look at the
city, get a little exercise."
"We haven't had a chance to talk for such a long time," added
Elrohir, his impulsive, unpredictable, disaster-prone other half in
a casual voice.
These descriptions were how they were widely perceived, and mostly
it was true enough, though under pressure Elladan had a tendency to
be the less self assured, the more vulnerable, while Elrohir, who
always gave the impression of light mindedness, would keep his given
word with his life if need be.
They stood and looked down at me hopefully, almost mirror images,
with my long, dark hair which they currently wore loose and my
father's light gray eyes - the only thing of him that I now recalled
clearly, it was all so very long ago - tall, strongly built, light
footed, Celebrian's boys by birth alone, owning almost nothing of
her look or nature as though their sojourn within her body had left
them, somehow, untouched. These were plainly the children of my
line, heir to all the ills and excesses that were one with its
history.
And they wanted me to go for a walk with them, spend some time
together. Perfectly innocuous, save that I knew my sons far to well.
There was another motive, something they regarded as important and
this request was their way of signaling this to me.
I cannot now remember when it first began, this habit that grew
between myself and my children to walk as we shared those matters
that are best dealt with privately within families, but, since my
sons had been old enough to keep pace this is what we had done.
It began at my insistence, a way of creating a shared space within
which I could express concerns about behavior unbecoming not only to
elven princes - which in all but name they were - but to most young
that went on two legs, and to address the hurts and confusions of
childhood as best I could, even though my own childhood had been
such as to offer me no ready reference to the healing of the
heart-hurts of the young.
Knowing myself lacking, I think I might have put more thought into
parenting than those who, coming from backgrounds of love and
security, might have felt to be strictly necessary. I know
Celebrian, who had never experienced a moment without love in her
life, was more than a little amused by my approach to fatherhood,
though she assured me that she also found it endearing.
My greatest desire for my children was that they should feel safe
and loved and unconditionally accepted, things of which my childhood
had lacked, things which I was determined my own would hold as a
birthright. With this in mind, I not only offered them guidance but
also encouragement to express themselves freely. Not only towards me
but also in their actions and interests, a freedom never afforded
me, raised as I was within the confines of a strict Noldorin code of
conduct. A code which, to this day, I have still to consciously
distance myself from, so deeply has it been ingrained in me by those
who had the care of myself and my brother after the loss of our
parents.
Well, discipline and duty and the correct appearance of things no
doubt have their place, but I remembered my mother, that fiercely
defiant free spirit, and knew there was so very much more to life.
~*~*~*~*~
And so we walked, and
we talked. Sometimes all three of them together, sometimes just one
alone. We talked of manners, deportment, responsibility, those
things that make up the conduct which is becoming to the descendents
of kings, we talked of night fears, of the small, bitter sorrows of
youth, of love and life and death.
We shared anger, and rebellion and bitter hurts, and a few
confidences that were so private as to refuse eye contact. And
sometimes there were long walks that were simply for the pleasure of
one another’s company, times of laughter and quiet togetherness. I
shared with them my past, or at least as much of it as could be
deemed suitable, and they in turn offered me their dreams for their
futures, little knowing at the time how the turn of the age would
rewrite those dreams for us all.
Having no places of habit to visit in this city of Men, we spent
some time simply wandering the environs of the palace itself,
commenting on the architecture - solid and ornate - the people,
their manner and their mode of dress, things which would now form
the backdrop to their sister's future. Finally we sought a quiet
corner up on the wall and stood, leaning against the weathered
stone, looking out over the view in companionable silence. I played
the game I had always played with myself, that of trying to guess
which one of them would broach the true reason we were here.
When Elladan stirred to speak after they had spent some time
alternating their attention between surveying the view and watching
me from the sides of their eyes, I had to hide my smile.
"Adar, we were talking, and we fell to wondering," he began, turning
back to the safety of the view. "We know our choice to either stay
here or to sail into the West is bound up with your leaving, but
what we never thought to ask is how long we can remain here after
you go?"
I drew in a deep breath, released it and closed my eyes briefly. So
now it came. "How long would you want to be staying? I asked,
carefully. "Six months, a year?"
They were quiet for a moment, communicating wordlessly in that way
that was wholly their own. Forever? I bit down on the word hard, and
found my senses fully concentrated. They were both looking deeply
uncomfortable.
"We aren't sure," Elladan answered. "We will be needed here for a
while to manage things, to make sure that those who do not take ship
immediately have assistance from Imladris, to make certain there is
someone to keep the road safe for them-"
"The House started as a haven," his brother broke in, “It would
revert to that status, a haven for those still not quite yet ready
to cut the ties. I know it has been spoken of," he added, "I heard
Erestor and Glorfindel talking."
I rested my chin on my hand, watching a convoy of horse drawn carts
crossing the plain before us, so recently a battlefield. "That is
true," I agreed. "However, your grandfather has already agreed to
move there some time after the Lady, your grandmother, leaves. Did
you hear that too?"
They shook their heads. Elrohir turned and put a hand on my arm.
Everyone always thinks Elladan is the one most like me in his ways,
steady, sensible, practical, but that was the persona life had
forced upon me, my place of refuge. When young I had been very much
like my second born - complex, responding to instinct. I knew what
he was about to say, and covered his hand with mine, as much for his
comfort as my own.
" Ada, we don't really know what we want to do," he told me,
watching my face gravely. "You say we have to decide whether we want
to be numbered with the firstborn and go home with you or amongst
the secondborn and stay here with Wen. Those are the only two
choices, aren't they?"
I nodded. "If there is a third choice open to us I have certainly
never heard it and could hardly imagine what it could be," I said,
trying to keep my tone light and even. I realized that impeccable
balance was required from me here. I was already losing one child, I
had no intention of leaving all three behind if I could help it.
"Why would you be needing a third choice, penneth, or even a second
one?" I asked, catching and holding his glance, not allowing him to
look away. To his credit he stayed steady under my eyes. I could
feel his brother's unease to my right.
"You say 'go home,'" he said at last. "It isn't our home, Ada, this
is. We were born here, this is where we belong, not in some place
which is no more real than a child's story to us."
With the fear and determination that only another parent could begin
to appreciate to spur me on I forced myself to stay utterly calm.
Ranting and raving would be the worst choice here. I reached out
instead for the tools of diplomacy, reasoned words, a steady voice,
and whatever duplicity the situation might call for.
"We have been thinking," Elladan came, as ever, to his twin's
rescue. "We have known more mortals than many elves could claim, but
we have never lived amongst them. How could we even begin to make a
decision about something of which we have no experience?”
Something of my horror must have been showing, despite my best
efforts. Elrohir tightened his grip on my arm, tried his very best
to look reassuring. "Not that we are saying that we wouldn’t follow
you at the last." he offered. "Just, not right away."
"How long do we have till we have to decide?" Elladan , always the
practical. Well, this would have no sweetener to it.
"Before I leave, which will be within a year, I would guess, you
will have to have made your choice." I told them. They both stirred,
started to protest, and I held up a hand as I have always done,
since they were very young, to silence them ."The grace which offers
you the choice is bound to the fact that you are my sons, it is
offered to no other who have claim to a portion of elven blood, only
our line. You must make your determination before I leave and you
will then be tied to it."
They were staring at one another now, no longer at me. Others found
this habit of shutting out the world, focusing exclusively on each
another uncomfortable, but I simply gave them the time they required
and waited. I had been one of a twin. I remembered how it could be
to speak with no need for words, to perceive whole sentences from a
glance, from the quirk of a brow ..
"The choice," I added, "is irreversible. Should you chose mortality
and then at the end reconsider it will be to no avail. You will be
unable to leave. Should you choose immortality and wish to remain,"
I continued, a little grimly, “you will be left to walk alone
together down through time, with no other like companions, watching
everything around you grow, flourish and die in the short turning of
men's seasons. ." I watched the activity on the plain again for a
few minutes. “Of the two," I confessed, "I think being trapped here
for all eternity may easily be the worse."
"But Valinor is not 'home' Ada." Elrohir said softly, his eyes, too,
following the horses .. "There is nothing for us there."
I looked at them, my beautiful, wonderful, deeply frustrating sons.
They were nothing like my dreams would have made them, they were a
product of their own design, not mine, roaming life with no certain
space within it for themselves, dependant solely on one another,
princes without a kingdom, born too late into one of the last
enclaves in a world from which our kind had withdrawn in vast
numbers. They had no conception of what it was like to be part of a
grand whole. They could no more imagine life in a true elven kingdom
than a fish can picture a mountaintop. I loved them so much it hurt
my heart.
I got to work. " Rohir, has it never occurred to you that I, too,
was born here, that to me, as well, Valinor is but a word? For all
the tales Glorfindel can tell me, it is still no more than a story,
an elflings fable for me. Our family has been here for generations
now. I had neither parent nor grandparent with memories of a western
home. You have the advantage of me there at least, you have heard
your grandmother reminisce. I share your discomfort, but none the
less it is our home, and the heartland of our kind. As for there
being nothing waiting there for you," I paused to get their
attention. "I hardly think your mother can be described as
'nothing'."
Two pairs of clear gray eyes looked at me uncertainly. "Yes but Nana
would understand" Elladan.
"No, Dan," I said, sounding almost as tired as I felt.” I am not
convinced that your mother would understand how it could be that of
the three children left in my care at her departure I would be
unable to bring even one safely over the sea to her. It is enough
that I have to explain the loss of her daughter to her." This was
all of course deeply underhand but I could not find it in myself to
care very much. I pressed on "The other, and more positive thing
that I think you should consider," I said, "is the fact that this
could be your next great adventure"
"Adventure?" They seldom spoke together anymore as they had when
very young, not unless startled.
"Aye, adventure." I said cheerfully. "A new land, new people, new
activities, interests, friends. A million things to do and learn.
And probably new difficulties too - throughout our history the one
constant seems to have been that elves don’t live any great length
of time without problems of some kind." I smiled and reached out my
arms, one around each shoulder. They were slightly taller than I,
something I was usually unaware of. "Just promise me you will make
no rash decisions and that you will discuss it all thoroughly
between yourselves and with me first" I requested.
They returned the hug, for all the world as though they were still
elflings. Keeping their indecision to themselves had weighed heavily
upon them I think.
"We will speak with you first before we make a final choice, I
promise" Elladan said to me.
Elrohir punched at him gently, they are always gentle with one
another, soft touches , tender, thoughtful care.” I told you weeks
ago we should go talk to Ada," he said smugly.
If anything persuades them it will be the suggestion of adventure,
something to be looked forward to and savored. My boys have always
loved excitement. " Beren's blood!" a sardonic voice seemed to
whisper in my ear. "And you played to it"
Two things could be said of our forefather - firstly that he too had
loved adventure. Secondly, that he did not appear to have been very
bright. I hoped against hope that they resembled him sufficiently
for it to be enough.
"There is one final thing," I said to them as we prepared to return
back the way we had come. "If one of you should be drawn to choose
mortality and should the other be uncertain of this choice, then you
will both number yourselves amongst the firstborn and sail west." I
shook them gently to make my point and then drew them to me once
more, briefly. "You can decide many things for one another," I told
them, "but you have no right to determine death for anyone other
than yourself. That is something which I utterly forbid. I did not
raise kinslayers, and such a thing would stand on equal footing with
murder."
~*~*~*~*~
After taking leave of
my sons, I walked away lost in thought, and managed to walk straight
into Glorfindel. He held me at arms length looking at me and with a
wisdom born of long experience asked, "What assault have those two
launched on your peace of mind this time?"
I sighed deeply and rested my forehead against his shoulder for a
moment. " Glori, tell me, honestly, where did I go wrong with my
children? I really tried to be a good parent you know." I was half
laughing, half serious.
He tugged one of my braids gently. "You are a wonderful father," he
said firmly. "You are really much too hard on yourself sometimes.
You can only do so much, and then the rest is up to them." He
grinned at me. "Anyway they could be worse. Their hearts are in the
right place, they're honest and brave to a fault, they're just not
too good at making big decisions, am I not right?"
I raised my brows and then shrugged and, against my will, found
myself smiling back at him. Glorfindel's smile is very hard to
resist. "This is one thing they do not have forever to think about,”
I pointed out. "By the time I sail they are going to need to have
decided whether they will follow me or no. They can't wait a hundred
years and then say .."
He smiled at me again and shook his head gently. "They know that
Elrond," he told me. "Let it be. I'll speak to them if you wish but
really I think they'll be all right. The more you pursue them on
this..."
"I know, I know,” I said irritably. "It's just so hard to stand back
and watch them flail around like this."
He threw back his head and laughed, genuinely amused. I scowled at
him, trying to feel annoyed but to me Glorfindel laughing, is one of
the most beautiful things I have ever seen. Anger, as always, fled.
He is of a height with me although slightly broader across the
shoulders, long muscled, steely strong and solid. His hair is the
exact color of late afternoon sunlight, he usually wears it in an
intricately braided antique style which he favors. He has eyes the
clear blue of a summer sky under winged brows, his mouth ... his
mouth is a dream made reality. He moves like a big, prowling cat, he
is softly spoken with a clear, even voice.
I have heard from some who survived Gondolin and knew him before,
that in his first life he had been a straightforward , easy going
kind of elf, not overly fond of intellectual pursuits, good natured
and not given overmuch to introspection.
The Glorfindel I know certainly carries echoes of that past though
he is also slow now to anger, save in battle, and has returned from
the Halls of Waiting with a quiet patience, a respect for life and a
need, almost a compulsion, to find the good in all things, and to
savor each moment. He has a cheerful, playful side to him, regularly
drawing me out of myself and away from my natural tendency to brood.
As Erestor has said on more than one occasion, he really is good for
me.
He stopped laughing and gave me a considering look.
"You need to relax more," he said firmly.
I smiled and sighed, "You are probably right, my dear," I agreed,
"but there is just so much to do, and my children do not make it any
easier... Arwen -"
He stopped me with a finger to my lips. "No good can come from
upsetting yourself over something already done and impossible to
undo," he told me. He paused frowning slightly, then asked, "Busy
though you are, could you perhaps spare a little time to me? It
won't take long."
I took a breath, released it slowly. If I had no time for the one
who would always put my needs before his own it would be a sad thing
indeed. "It will need to be brief," I insisted. "I had forgotten I
had to meet with Erestor at this time. I imagine he's already
waiting for me. What do you need?”
He touched my arm. "Follow me"
He led me through the maze of corridors that was the White Tower
with an unerring sense of direction, bringing us finally to the
room, barely used, which had been set aside for him. "In here," he
said. Something in the clipped, almost commanding tone caught my
attention but before I had time to make the connection we were
inside, he had closed the door and I had been pushed almost roughly
up against the wall.
"You, " he said firmly in the same no-nonsense tone, "are too
tense." His mouth came down over mine, claiming me in a hard kiss,
his tongue forcing its way between my teeth determinedly. He held me
in place with one hand on my chest and the other cupped under my
jaw.
I managed to shake my head free. " Glori I don't have time .."
"So you told me," he agreed amiably, taking me by the arm and half
dragging me across the room to the window. "Even so, you still need
to relax." He turned me to face the window, his hands on my
shoulders. I was off balance both mentally and physically and
unthinkingly reached forward to steady myself.
"There you are,” he said in a pleased voice as he caught my hands,
placed them on the window sill and gave me a little 'stay there'
shake. "Now you just look out the window, enjoy the pretty view such
as it is, while I,” his hands were busy under my robe unfastening
and drawing down my leggings and loincloth with an economy of
movement that was, frankly, a little overwhelming, "while I address
myself to all this tension you carry within you."
My leggings were round my ankles, my robe was tucked up at the back
to my waist. For a moment nothing happened at all. I stood feeling
the strangeness of cool air against bare skin, the rough stone of
the windowsill beneath my fingers. I could hear faintly the noises
of daily life coming from outside, contrasting to the utter
stillness of the room and then I almost struck my head on the window
frame as he entered me with his tongue.
He drew back briefly as I bucked and then twisted against the hands
now firm on my thighs, to warn me with a chuckle. “Careful my love,
you don't want to draw attention to yourself do you? I know we're on
the third floor but you can't be too careful, can you ? Think of the
scandal." before nipping my buttock sharply and then plunging back
in.
The next few minutes involved him thrusting and twisting his tongue
within me while spreading me as wide open as he could with his
fingers and me gasping such useful phrases as, "You have to stop
this, we have no time for this!" while pressing back against him in
obvious opposition to my words. He finally settled matters by the
simple expedient of inserting at least one finger (I was in no state
to count) to join his tongue.
I flinched as he forced the finger past the ring of muscle, moving
infinitely slowly, letting me experience every moment of his
progress within me, feeling the burning pain, the sensation of
alienness and stretching while the anticipation for what was about
to happen banked heat in the pit of my stomach balancing the pain.
He withdrew swiftly on a flash of fire , flicked his tongue over my
opening then penetrated me again, tongue and ...more fingers than
last time. Once again the burning, the discomfort as he moved them
within me twisting and flexing. Then he turned his hand sharply,
knowing me, knowing where to aim and found my prostate and thrust
hard enough to make me yelp, clench my fists, and jerk back into
him.
He knelt, thrusting his fingers in and out, the movement now
smoother and slicker, striking my prostate squarely each time, his
tongue working in and out, occasionally withdrawing to lick long,
wet strokes up and down my cleft, before returning. My muscles
knotted, my world had shrunk to his fingers and his tongue and to
the aching, throbbing hardness that was my cock. Finally, when I had
been reduced to making a kind of continuous whimpering sound, he
turned me to face him, his fingers still deep within me and moved me
away from the window.
He grabbed the draping cloth of my robe, bunched it up and hissed at
me, "Hold this up!" and as I did so, inarticulate and gasping he
took the head of my cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue over
it, sucking so hard it was almost unbearable, grating his teeth back
and forth over the ring sending lightning streaking through me and
then finally sucking me in deeply. causing me to cry out and grab at
his head with one hand, pulling him in closer. He sucked me in and
out, releasing me almost completely each time before drawing me back
deep into his relaxed throat, scraping his teeth along the underside
each time. Eventually. an eternity later he released me and rested
his cheek against my hip, his warm breath one more sensation as his
free hand began squeezing then stroking me.
For the next couple of minutes he had to do nothing as I thrust
forward into his fist, backward into those glorious, probing
fingers, my eyes half shut, the pace my body had found driving me
closer and closer to the fire etched edge, while he knelt and
watched me. Sensations beyond description pulsed through me. There
was nothing and no one else in the world - my skin tingled, my
nipples were so taut they ached. Finally over the sound of my
heartbeat and my ragged breathing I heard him say, "Come for me now
my sweet one!" and then he swallowing me back into the velvet heat
of his mouth while increasing the force and rhythm of his thrusting
fingers.
I came within moments, making a high pitched, keening noise that
should have been embarrassing but wasn't, shooting my seed into his
throat with an intensity that made the room around me go black. I
think I would have fallen had he not been supporting me.
He withdrew his fingers slowly and held my cock lightly while he
slowly licked it completely clean. He then proceeded to arrange my
clothing, fastening my leggings and smoothing down my robe with
tender hands whilst I stood, dazed and breathless, holding onto his
shoulder.
Eventually I came back to myself sufficiently to realize I had
overlooked something important and tried to draw him to me saying,
"No wait, what about you ? Let me..." but he brushed away my
reaching hands with a smile and, instead drew me into his arms,
holding me lightly but securely. I leaned against him, loving his
strength and the way it always made me feel protected and secure, a
circle of safety in an often hostile world
"That," he said tenderly, his cheek against mine, "was purely for
you. You can give me my reward another time when you are less busy
should you so wish. Or not. This was something I wanted to give you
to help ease your day .. I expect nothing in return. I never do."
Something about the way he said this made me draw back to search his
eyes, eyes that were just a little too guarded, a little too
expressionless.
" Glori, is something wrong ?" I asked.
He shook his head, smiling gently. "What could possibly be wrong?"
he asked. "I love to pleasure you, there is nothing I would rather
do. There isn't time for more play now but I knew there wouldn't be.
I am content so long as you no longer have that tight look around
your eyes and mouth," and he placed kisses in the appropriate places
as he spoke.
He cupped my face in his hands and rested his forehead against mine.
"I love you, keeper of my soul," he said gravely, "you do not have
to earn it, it is yours forever, no matter what may come to pass."
A shadow moved behind his eyes for a moment as he spoke, and then it
was gone, but not quickly enough to fool me. Glorfindel is a
passionate, imaginative lover, but stolen moments in the middle of a
busy day are not a habit of his. This kind of thing harked back to
another time in my life, another love, and a very different set of
circumstances.
As I puzzled on this he was putting the last touches to my
appearance, and then shaking me gently, telling me to hurry up, not
keep Erestor, whose temper for some reason had been an alarmingly
uncertain thing of late waiting, and so I left, but not before
promising myself that I would make it my business to discover what
it was that could cause Glorfindel to act in a manner which,
although more than welcome on my part, was so totally at odds with
everything that the last few hundred years had taught me to expect
from him.
~*~*~*~*~
Part 2
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