DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters used in this story, which
belong to Tolkien. All I own are my obsessions.
WARNINGS: this story contains the slash parings (namely Glorfindel/Elrohir), so don't say I didn't warn you. Even though I say Elrohir is the equivalent of 17 in this story, I wouldn't say this is underage because nothing happens except for some teenage wishing. Also very minor spoilers for the Simarillion.
A/N: I have changed my idea for this fic, even though chapter 1 will stay the same. This story is a series of insights into Elrohir and Glorfindel's life. The time will range from when Elrohir is about the human equivalent to 15 to the War of the Rings and maybe beyond. If anyone's read Pumpkin's "Snapshots" series, it will be sort of like that, but not updated nearly as often. Good idea? Bad idea? Review and tell me.
*********************** REMEMBERANCE *********************** The sun was shining in the valley of Imladris, breaking through the white clouds that hung suspended like spun sugar in the sapphire skies. The roar of the Bruinen was drowned out by the pound of hoof beats on the narrow mountain passes as Elrohir raced his mount around the sharp turns that led to the ford and out of the valley. As his powerful mount reached the river's edge, his sharp eyes finally caught sight of the elf he was pursuing, already across the ford and galloping towards the trees beyond. He urged his mare faster with a cry. She responded, encouraged by the sight of the white horse ahead of her. Elrohir felt a jolt as his horse leapt into the river, sending a fine spray of water into his face.
"I will catch you, Glorfindel!" he cried to the wind as he gained the trees.
The white horse was gone again, lost in the forest, but Elrohir knew the path Glorfindel would take and steered his mount around a bank of trees. The trees whipped his raven hair as he rode by, though he managed to avoid any of the thorns and brambles that reached to scratch his skin. Asfaloth became visible again as he rounded another bend, closer on the heels of the other horse than he thought. He saw Glorfindel riding lightly on the back of his stallion, guiding the horse with merely a word or a gentle touch. He had no need of a saddle or bridle to control the powerful animal. Glorfindel turned to see Elrohir on his heels and laughed. The sound matched the singing of the birds around them and the bubble of running water in the distance.
Elrohir felt himself grow hot, and not from the strenuous ride. He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable on the back of the horse. His mare noticed the sudden change and slowed, confused by the signals and scents she was picking up from her rider. Elrohir was too distracted watching Glorfindel race to correct her behavior.
Glorfindel turned and noticed that Elrohir had slowed into a canter. He was farther behind than the last time he looked, despite the fact that his mare showed no signs of fatigue. Concerned, he slowed Asfaloth, apologizing for spoiling the race. Asfaloth turned obediently, waiting for the younger elf to catch up.
Elrohir saw Glorfindel stopped and realized that he had not noticed how far ahead the other elf had gotten. He brought his horse along side of Asfaloth.
"Are you well?" Glorfindel asked, concerned that Elrohir might have been caught by a low branch or that his horse had become injured.
"Yes, I am fine," Elrohir said, ear tips turning red. "I just became.distracted."
Glorfindel nodded and continued down the path. "It is a shame that your brother could not come riding with us," he said, trying to guess at source of Elrohir's distraction.
Elrohir shrugged. "He knew we wanted to race, and he would not be able to keep up. Anyway, it is nice to spend time apart and he wanted to keep Mother company today."
Glorfindel smiled at the twin's confession. At their young age, right on the brink of adulthood, they were beginning to resent being treated as a matching set at all times. Still, the bond between them only deepened as the years passed even as their different abilities and temperaments continued to set them apart.
"It is also good to spend time with just you," Elrohir mused aloud. He blushed at his own words, turning his ivory cheeks a startling pink.
"As it is with you," Glorfindel said, amused at Elrohir's comment and reaction.
"What I mean is, it is not everyday that we are able to race as we do today!" Elrohir clarified.
"I knew what you meant," Glorfindel chuckled. "Though I do indeed enjoy your company any time you can spare it."
"Perhaps I can go with you the next time you go out on a long patrol?" Elrohir asked, licking lips that were suddenly dry.
Blue eyes smiled at him. "Yes, I think that it would be a wonderful experience for both of us. If your mother and father allow you, of course."
Elrohir beamed. "I'm sure they will! I can already outride anyone in Imladris." Glorfindel looked at him sharply. "Well, except you and Father, of course," Elrohir added sheepishly.
They came to the edge of a cliff that was their destination and dismounted. Elrohir rubbed down the horses and turned them loose to graze as Glorfindel spread out the lunch they had brought with them. It was simple fare, consisting of apples, cheese and bread baked fresh that morning. Glorfindel also had the presence of mind to bring wine with him, which they drank straight from the bottle.
The cliff overlooked the entire valley, and they could see the river running far below them. The buildings that made up the complex of the Last Homely House sprawled along the banks, looking more like a stack of pale stones from their vantage point. They relaxed on the grass and an eagle flew far overhead, calling out in a piercing cry.
Glorfindel stopped eating at the sound of the eagle's cry and his looked towards the horizon long after the eagle was out of sight. He sighed and closed his eyes as one grieving does.
"What is wrong, Glorfindel?" Elrohir asked, moving closer to the blond elf.
Glorfindel shook his head and laid out on the grass. His hair fanned around him on the ground like a golden halo. He opened his eyes and Elrohir could see that they were a perfect blue mirror to the sky above them. He suddenly wanted to lean down and press his lips to the pale ones of the older elf. The thought startled him with its strength and its insistence and he shook his head to clear it. The perfectly blue eyes turned to regard Elrohir.
"Please forgive this ancient elf," Glorfindel said. "Memory is a strange thing, sometimes."
Elrohir stretched out beside him, looking to the same empty spot in the sky. "What were you remembering?" he asked, biting his lip at his own impudence.
But Glorfindel sighed again, lightly this time, and Elrohir could tell that he was in a rare talkative mood. "I was remembering the white walls of Gondolin and the way they would blush with the first rays of the morning sun; you blushed much the same way when we rode today."
Elrohir smiled. He turned on his side and propped his head up on his hand so he could see Glorfindel. The blonde elf did not stir, though he smiled at his young friend's attentiveness. "What was the city like? I have only heard that it was hidden, as Imladris is."
"No," Glorfindel said. "It was indeed hidden, but not as your father's house is. There is a magic in Imladris that Gondolin did not possess. We used stone and iron in its stead, though in the end that was not enough. But it was a fine city-the finest of its age. There was a high court with kings and queens and princes as you no longer see today among our kind. Now there are lords and ladies, but it is not the same."
"Lord Thranduil uses the title of king in his realm," Elrohir pointed out.
"Yes, but a King of Mirkwood is of no matter compared to the High Kings of the Noldor. But this is a different age."
Elrohir laid back again to consider the ancient elf's words. The sky was mesmerizing, with the swirls of constantly changing clouds. He picked out one that looked much like a giant eagle, swooping down on the valley. The warm summer breeze tickled his hair.
"It was today, wasn't it?" Elrohir asked. "I should know this, but I admit Elladan far surpasses me in our studies."
Glorfindel smiled. "Your studies are fine. You should not compare yourself to your brother. But yes, it was today that Gondolin fell."
"Is that why you wanted to come up here?" Elrohir asked softly.
"In part. It is a good place to remember. And to picnic."
"How much do you remember?" Elrohir asked.
"Of the battle?" Glorfindel murmured. He did not speak the name of the fire demon that he gave his life to cast down into the abyss with him. "I remember much, but it is a faded scar, and it has never pained me much. I do not remember Thorondor and the eagles, but their cry has been in my dreams many times."
Elrohir looked away, tears threatening at the remembrance of the old lays that told of the fight between Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower and the Balrog. He did not want to think of the beautiful golden-haired elf lying not sprawled on the grass next to him, but broken at the foot of a cliff. Glorfindel saw him turn away, and caught his chin in his elegant hand.
"It was a very long time ago, Elrohir. There have been.other battles and other wounds since then, though none so grievous." He laughed and it lightened Elrohir's heart. "I would not do it again, if I had a choice, but I was sent back to Arda to protect your family, and that has been the most precious gift granted in either of my lives."
Elrohir nodded, not trusting his voice. Glorfindel stood up and offered his hand to Elrohir. He pulled the younger elf to his feet and pulled him into a strong embrace. He kissed Elrohir's forehead and Elrohir thought he saw him glow with some inner light, like a star had taken residence where his heart should be.
"The sun is setting and we should return," Glorfindel said, releasing Elrohir. He called the horses and gathered up the remnants of their meal. "I will talk to Elrond about you and Elladan accompanying me on the next patrol."
Glorfindel caught a wicked gleam in Elrohir's eyes as the younger elf swung onto his horse. "Not if I beat you back!" Elrohir called, kicking the mare into a gallop.
Glorfindel dropped what was in his hands but Elrohir was already far gone, leaving only the echo of his laughter in his wake. "Oh Elbereth!" Glorfindel muttered. "I'll hear about this one until the end of the Third Age!"
WARNINGS: this story contains the slash parings (namely Glorfindel/Elrohir), so don't say I didn't warn you. Even though I say Elrohir is the equivalent of 17 in this story, I wouldn't say this is underage because nothing happens except for some teenage wishing. Also very minor spoilers for the Simarillion.
A/N: I have changed my idea for this fic, even though chapter 1 will stay the same. This story is a series of insights into Elrohir and Glorfindel's life. The time will range from when Elrohir is about the human equivalent to 15 to the War of the Rings and maybe beyond. If anyone's read Pumpkin's "Snapshots" series, it will be sort of like that, but not updated nearly as often. Good idea? Bad idea? Review and tell me.
*********************** REMEMBERANCE *********************** The sun was shining in the valley of Imladris, breaking through the white clouds that hung suspended like spun sugar in the sapphire skies. The roar of the Bruinen was drowned out by the pound of hoof beats on the narrow mountain passes as Elrohir raced his mount around the sharp turns that led to the ford and out of the valley. As his powerful mount reached the river's edge, his sharp eyes finally caught sight of the elf he was pursuing, already across the ford and galloping towards the trees beyond. He urged his mare faster with a cry. She responded, encouraged by the sight of the white horse ahead of her. Elrohir felt a jolt as his horse leapt into the river, sending a fine spray of water into his face.
"I will catch you, Glorfindel!" he cried to the wind as he gained the trees.
The white horse was gone again, lost in the forest, but Elrohir knew the path Glorfindel would take and steered his mount around a bank of trees. The trees whipped his raven hair as he rode by, though he managed to avoid any of the thorns and brambles that reached to scratch his skin. Asfaloth became visible again as he rounded another bend, closer on the heels of the other horse than he thought. He saw Glorfindel riding lightly on the back of his stallion, guiding the horse with merely a word or a gentle touch. He had no need of a saddle or bridle to control the powerful animal. Glorfindel turned to see Elrohir on his heels and laughed. The sound matched the singing of the birds around them and the bubble of running water in the distance.
Elrohir felt himself grow hot, and not from the strenuous ride. He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable on the back of the horse. His mare noticed the sudden change and slowed, confused by the signals and scents she was picking up from her rider. Elrohir was too distracted watching Glorfindel race to correct her behavior.
Glorfindel turned and noticed that Elrohir had slowed into a canter. He was farther behind than the last time he looked, despite the fact that his mare showed no signs of fatigue. Concerned, he slowed Asfaloth, apologizing for spoiling the race. Asfaloth turned obediently, waiting for the younger elf to catch up.
Elrohir saw Glorfindel stopped and realized that he had not noticed how far ahead the other elf had gotten. He brought his horse along side of Asfaloth.
"Are you well?" Glorfindel asked, concerned that Elrohir might have been caught by a low branch or that his horse had become injured.
"Yes, I am fine," Elrohir said, ear tips turning red. "I just became.distracted."
Glorfindel nodded and continued down the path. "It is a shame that your brother could not come riding with us," he said, trying to guess at source of Elrohir's distraction.
Elrohir shrugged. "He knew we wanted to race, and he would not be able to keep up. Anyway, it is nice to spend time apart and he wanted to keep Mother company today."
Glorfindel smiled at the twin's confession. At their young age, right on the brink of adulthood, they were beginning to resent being treated as a matching set at all times. Still, the bond between them only deepened as the years passed even as their different abilities and temperaments continued to set them apart.
"It is also good to spend time with just you," Elrohir mused aloud. He blushed at his own words, turning his ivory cheeks a startling pink.
"As it is with you," Glorfindel said, amused at Elrohir's comment and reaction.
"What I mean is, it is not everyday that we are able to race as we do today!" Elrohir clarified.
"I knew what you meant," Glorfindel chuckled. "Though I do indeed enjoy your company any time you can spare it."
"Perhaps I can go with you the next time you go out on a long patrol?" Elrohir asked, licking lips that were suddenly dry.
Blue eyes smiled at him. "Yes, I think that it would be a wonderful experience for both of us. If your mother and father allow you, of course."
Elrohir beamed. "I'm sure they will! I can already outride anyone in Imladris." Glorfindel looked at him sharply. "Well, except you and Father, of course," Elrohir added sheepishly.
They came to the edge of a cliff that was their destination and dismounted. Elrohir rubbed down the horses and turned them loose to graze as Glorfindel spread out the lunch they had brought with them. It was simple fare, consisting of apples, cheese and bread baked fresh that morning. Glorfindel also had the presence of mind to bring wine with him, which they drank straight from the bottle.
The cliff overlooked the entire valley, and they could see the river running far below them. The buildings that made up the complex of the Last Homely House sprawled along the banks, looking more like a stack of pale stones from their vantage point. They relaxed on the grass and an eagle flew far overhead, calling out in a piercing cry.
Glorfindel stopped eating at the sound of the eagle's cry and his looked towards the horizon long after the eagle was out of sight. He sighed and closed his eyes as one grieving does.
"What is wrong, Glorfindel?" Elrohir asked, moving closer to the blond elf.
Glorfindel shook his head and laid out on the grass. His hair fanned around him on the ground like a golden halo. He opened his eyes and Elrohir could see that they were a perfect blue mirror to the sky above them. He suddenly wanted to lean down and press his lips to the pale ones of the older elf. The thought startled him with its strength and its insistence and he shook his head to clear it. The perfectly blue eyes turned to regard Elrohir.
"Please forgive this ancient elf," Glorfindel said. "Memory is a strange thing, sometimes."
Elrohir stretched out beside him, looking to the same empty spot in the sky. "What were you remembering?" he asked, biting his lip at his own impudence.
But Glorfindel sighed again, lightly this time, and Elrohir could tell that he was in a rare talkative mood. "I was remembering the white walls of Gondolin and the way they would blush with the first rays of the morning sun; you blushed much the same way when we rode today."
Elrohir smiled. He turned on his side and propped his head up on his hand so he could see Glorfindel. The blonde elf did not stir, though he smiled at his young friend's attentiveness. "What was the city like? I have only heard that it was hidden, as Imladris is."
"No," Glorfindel said. "It was indeed hidden, but not as your father's house is. There is a magic in Imladris that Gondolin did not possess. We used stone and iron in its stead, though in the end that was not enough. But it was a fine city-the finest of its age. There was a high court with kings and queens and princes as you no longer see today among our kind. Now there are lords and ladies, but it is not the same."
"Lord Thranduil uses the title of king in his realm," Elrohir pointed out.
"Yes, but a King of Mirkwood is of no matter compared to the High Kings of the Noldor. But this is a different age."
Elrohir laid back again to consider the ancient elf's words. The sky was mesmerizing, with the swirls of constantly changing clouds. He picked out one that looked much like a giant eagle, swooping down on the valley. The warm summer breeze tickled his hair.
"It was today, wasn't it?" Elrohir asked. "I should know this, but I admit Elladan far surpasses me in our studies."
Glorfindel smiled. "Your studies are fine. You should not compare yourself to your brother. But yes, it was today that Gondolin fell."
"Is that why you wanted to come up here?" Elrohir asked softly.
"In part. It is a good place to remember. And to picnic."
"How much do you remember?" Elrohir asked.
"Of the battle?" Glorfindel murmured. He did not speak the name of the fire demon that he gave his life to cast down into the abyss with him. "I remember much, but it is a faded scar, and it has never pained me much. I do not remember Thorondor and the eagles, but their cry has been in my dreams many times."
Elrohir looked away, tears threatening at the remembrance of the old lays that told of the fight between Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower and the Balrog. He did not want to think of the beautiful golden-haired elf lying not sprawled on the grass next to him, but broken at the foot of a cliff. Glorfindel saw him turn away, and caught his chin in his elegant hand.
"It was a very long time ago, Elrohir. There have been.other battles and other wounds since then, though none so grievous." He laughed and it lightened Elrohir's heart. "I would not do it again, if I had a choice, but I was sent back to Arda to protect your family, and that has been the most precious gift granted in either of my lives."
Elrohir nodded, not trusting his voice. Glorfindel stood up and offered his hand to Elrohir. He pulled the younger elf to his feet and pulled him into a strong embrace. He kissed Elrohir's forehead and Elrohir thought he saw him glow with some inner light, like a star had taken residence where his heart should be.
"The sun is setting and we should return," Glorfindel said, releasing Elrohir. He called the horses and gathered up the remnants of their meal. "I will talk to Elrond about you and Elladan accompanying me on the next patrol."
Glorfindel caught a wicked gleam in Elrohir's eyes as the younger elf swung onto his horse. "Not if I beat you back!" Elrohir called, kicking the mare into a gallop.
Glorfindel dropped what was in his hands but Elrohir was already far gone, leaving only the echo of his laughter in his wake. "Oh Elbereth!" Glorfindel muttered. "I'll hear about this one until the end of the Third Age!"