Title: Bloodlust
Characters: Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir
Prompt: 030. Death
Rating: T
Summary: Vengeance drives the twins down a perilous road.
Author's Note: I received a review questioning why I made Legolas older than the twins when they are supposed to be older than he. Actually, Legolas's age was never mentioned in the books. We only know he is much older than Aragorn or Gimli because he refers to them as children at one point in LotR. So he could have been born as late as the Watchful Peace or as early as sometime in the Second Age. It's only in the movies that his age is given, but as that didn't come from the books (there were a lot of things that weren't in the books or were discarded even if they were), I don't consider it canon. I hope that sufficiently explains why I made him older than the twins in this story.
T.A. 2515
The stench of congealing blood and unwashed bodies permeated the air. The trees surrounding the killing field bore long stripes and deep gashes in their trunks. Many a shrub had been torn asunder or trampled into the harrowed floor of the wide forest clearing.
Glorfindel looked at Elrohir searchingly. The younger twin's face was smeared with dirt and gore but that did not distract from the discomforting brilliance in his grey eyes. Or the shuddery breaths that told of anger not yet fully abated. His lips tightening into a grim line, Glorfindel grasped Elrohir's shoulder and forced him to meet his stern gaze.
They glared at each other for several heartbeats, Elrohir oblivious of the curious stares directed their way as well as his brother's concerned regard while Glorfindel simply ignored them. At last, the dangerous light in Elrohir's eyes seemed to dim somewhat and he blinked and looked at Glorfindel as if seeing him for the first time.
Glorfindel gentled his grip. "Had enough?" he quietly asked.
Elrohir seemed inclined to bristle at the tacit reprimand, but he followed Glorfindel's quick sweep of the carnage around them nonetheless. He caught his breath, then grimaced as the metallic odor of spattered blood finally registered. His cheeks paled slightly when he realized what lay at their feet—the nigh dismembered corpse of the orc he'd slain just before the battle's end.
He looked at Glorfindel again and silently nodded. Abruptly turning away, he strode toward the edge of the clearing, carefully avoiding the bodies of fallen comrades while heedlessly treading on the carcasses of foes. Arahad, Chieftain of the Dúnedain of the North, observed him a while then signaled to his son Aragost and another Ranger to follow. He glanced at Elladan who dipped his head in acknowledgement and thanks.
Elladan walked to his spouse's side and handed him a skin of water. Glorfindel took a generous swig before casting his eyes about to tally their losses.
"Four dead and six wounded," Elladan supplied him with the information. "They will burn the orcs here and bury their men in a fair glade some distance away."
Glorfindel sighed. "Tell them to take care to use only dead wood," he murmured. "I do not care to cause harm to this forest any more than has been done to it already."
"They share your concern." Elladan glanced past Glorfindel to where his brother stood apart, leaning back against a tree with his head bowed and his arms folded defensively. "He was overcome," he softly remarked. "I have never seen him thusly before."
"So were you," Glorfindel informed him. At Elladan's startled stare, he said, "You were as blind with rage as he during the fight though quicker to recover afterwards." He glanced down pointedly.
Elladan hesitantly raised his right arm. It was bloodied nigh to the elbow and hair and gristle and bits of bone clung to the gory blade and sticky hilt of the sword he still clutched. He heaved a shaky breath at the grisly sight.
"How many did I kill I wonder?" he muttered.
"Not how many," Glorfindel corrected him. "Just how."
That forced the color from Elladan's cheeks. "Am I no different then?" he asked in a hushed, almost forlorn voice.
Glorfindel caught his face between his palms and made him look at him. He shook his head and said, "You already rue what you have done. That alone absolves you in my eyes. Besides, 'tis love that drives your vengeance, Elladan, not mindless hate."
Elladan's eyes glistened. "I wanted to rend them with my bare hands, Glorfindel. Hear their pain and see the fear in their eyes. And I wish they were still alive that I may cut them down all over again! How can you say I do not hate them?"
Glorfindel wiped away the first of tears to trickle down Elladan's begrimed cheek with his thumb.
"Of course you hate them. None can fault you for that. But you do not hunt them because you loathe them. You do so to take revenge on your mother's behalf. Out of your devotion to her." He pressed a gentle kiss to Elladan's mouth. "Hate will not sustain you for long. Only love can."
Elladan licked his lips. As if refreshed by the taste of his spouse on them, his eyes brightened a shade and the corners of his mouth lifted in a faint smile.
"How well I know that," he whispered.
He leaned into Glorfindel's tall frame, relishing the warm wrap of the captain's arms around him. Resting his head a moment on his mate's shoulder, he saw his brother straighten and make his way back to them.
Aragost briefly joined him, his eyes questioning. Elrohir said something that apparently reassured the Ranger for Aragost soon rejoined his father. The younger twin continued on his solitary way.
Elladan sadly watched him approach. Would that Elrohir was as well armored as he. A steadfast spouse and a forever love with whom he could share all his joys or call upon in such dark times—that was all his twin yearned for. But it lay just beyond his reach with only an infrequent taste or occasional glimpse of what could be to help him endure and continue to hope.
He tightened his hold on Glorfindel, almost painfully aware of just how fortunate he was. On the heels of that realization came deepest gratitude. And with it, he felt the last of his bloodlust seep away.
It would return, of that he was certain. When they found another goblin pack and they fought another brutal battle. But it would leave just as quickly. Glorfindel's love ensured that.
Such desires were best abandoned once assuaged. But desire for each other there was aplenty. And that lust was and always would be welcome—in their bond and in their bed.
To be continued...