A/N: Thanks to all the lovely reviewers out there! This part is dedicated
to my evil psycho roommate who I just got rid of. Cheers!
WARNINGS: Rabid plot bunnies ahead.
TIMEFRAME: A few years after Somewhere Between.
**************** Rumors ****************
It was a good day, Elrohir mused as he meandered about the gardens of Imladris. The sun was warm on his face, though the early spring air lent a cool breeze to rustle the new leaves on the trees and loosen the pollen- laden blossoms. He could hear the Bruinen in the background, and it was a comforting sound, forever reminding him of his home.
Elrohir found a stone bench set to the side, designed to be hidden from casual observers but still lend a good view of the gardens. It was shady and the stone felt pleasantly cool under his hand as he took a seat. He gathered his robes about him-he was unused to the restricting layers of clothing, but he would tolerate it today. Even Elladan had been surprised when he entered his twin's room that morn. He said that Elrohir looked quite splendid in the crimson velvet he had chosen. Elladan had then made it his task-nay, his mission-to tame Elrohir's errant hair into submission by braiding back and twisting the top half to form a sort of crown on top of his head. Elrohir had to admit that it did look quite a bit better than his usual style of letting his hair do whatever it pleased.
Elladan truly knew what today meant for him, and had left him to his own devices with a minimum of teasing and knowing looks. Now, Elrohir was alone to his own thoughts as he waited for his other half to arrive. He traced an idle hand around the carvings on the bench as his mind wandered back. A year ago, he had been sitting in this same place, hidden from view and alone with his thoughts. He had traced the same patterns on the bench, wondering what they meant to whoever had carved them. It was a well-made bench, and he hoped that the artisan who created it was proud of his work.
Elrohir remembered how he had looked up towards the house then, and he had seen Legolas and Elladan sitting on a balcony near by. Legolas came up behind Elladan and wrapped his arms around his brother. They had stayed like that for a long time, speaking of nothing and not moving. He had wished so hard then that he had someone to do nothing with. Then, then Glorfindel had come around the corner-the one with the rose bushes just there-and changed his life.
Glorfindel had professed his love to Elrohir.
Elrohir smiled as he thought of how shy he had been, and how he hoped that his brother wasn't watching him from that balcony (which, of course, he had). Most of all, he hoped that Glorfindel had the correct person, and that he wouldn't realize that it was actually Elrohir in front of him and not Elladan. But no, Glorfindel had the correct twin after all.
Elrohir was pulled back to the present by the slight movement of shadows and rustle of leaves that indicated a person coming down the path. He smoothed his robes and resisted the urge to touch his hair to make sure that it was still behaving. The person-people, actually-rounded the corner, and to his disappointment, it was merely Legolas's escort from Mirkwood. The walked past, but stopped a few feet away from Elrohir's concealed perch. They were talking quite loudly, obviously at ease and thinking themselves alone in the secluded corner of the gardens.
"I have heard some interesting stories in my life, but surely you are making this one up," one of their voices drifted on the air.
"I jest not!" the other answered. "Ask anyone. The Prince himself will verify it. It is not as though they have denied it publicly. It is common knowledge."
"How can his father allow this? Well, I suppose it is not his fault. They have both fallen for the seductions of an...older individual."
"There is no excuse, if you want my opinion. He should have been thrown out of this valley decades ago!"
"I still cannot believe that the famous Glorfindel would bed the father and then the son that he himself was Guardian of."
"Perhaps he has exotic tastes, and you know that there is only one line of truly half-elven in Arda. Maybe they make good bedtoys."
"Perhaps Glorfindel is like an heirloom that the Peredhils pass down with every generation!"
The pair laughed as they headed off again, but Elrohir had heard enough. He felt sick to the very core of his being. The bench was suddenly very cold and hard, and the garden felt too exposed. Gathering his robes around him as best he could, Elrohir fled down the path to the comfort of his own rooms.
Glorfindel was more worried than he had been in a long while. Elrohir was not in the gardens as they had planned, and no one seemed to have seen either twin. Elladan he could understand, as Legolas was visiting for another year and they were most likely making themselves scarce to lend his brother some much needed privacy. Finally, he arrived in the twins' wing of the Great House and knocked quietly on Elrohir's door. There was no answer, but Glorfindel still opened the door, in case there were any clues inside as to his whereabouts.
Glorfindel was surprised to see Elrohir curled up on the bed, staring blankly at the wall. He quickly closed the door behind him and went to sit on the edge of the bed. Elrohir was not asleep and there were tears coursing down his face.
"Oh, Elrohir, what is wrong?" Glorfindel pleaded, resting a hand on his shaking shoulder.
Elrohir bit his lip and shook his head, not wanting to speak. He wanted Glorfindel to leave and not come back so that he could never again tarnish the Eldar's reputation.
"Tell me, Elrohir," Glorfindel said, nuzzling the side of his neck and speaking in his ear. "Even if I cannot be of help, it will make your burden less to be able to speak of it out loud." Still, there was no answer. "Is it me, then? Have I done something to hurt you?"
"Never!" came the choked answer. Elrohir started to nearly sob at the idea of Glorfindel thinking that he was at fault for his tears. He caved in and told Glorfindel about the conversation he overheard.
"Ai, Elrohir!" Glorfindel sighed, gathering the younger Elf into a strong embrace. "It would be a beautiful world if we could only hear the voices of those we love and love us in return. Pay no heed to the small minded. It is themselves they hurt by spreading such hateful rumors."
Elrohir wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "It is not true, then? You did not sleep with my father?"
Glorfindel looked him in the eyes. "It would be a lie if I said no, Elrohir." Elrohir looked fairly horror-stricken at the confession. "Peace, my love," Glorfindel continued. "It was in a darker time, before your mother and father found each other. Your father was young then, and I was..younger. There was no love between us and we both knew it."
Elrohir absorbed the information in silence. "Have you ever loved anyone...before me, that is?" he asked finally.
Glorfindel smiled, but it was sad and not bitter. "Yes, I have. But that was a lifetime ago, and he is long departed for the Halls of Mandos."
Elrohir sat up in silence, still sniffling occasionally. "I love you," he said simply. "No one before you."
Glorfindel gathered him up again, kissing him soundly. "You are young yet," he said, a bit of laughter coloring his tone. "Say that again in 5,000 years."
Elrohir smiled at his lover. "Don't worry. I will."
WARNINGS: Rabid plot bunnies ahead.
TIMEFRAME: A few years after Somewhere Between.
**************** Rumors ****************
It was a good day, Elrohir mused as he meandered about the gardens of Imladris. The sun was warm on his face, though the early spring air lent a cool breeze to rustle the new leaves on the trees and loosen the pollen- laden blossoms. He could hear the Bruinen in the background, and it was a comforting sound, forever reminding him of his home.
Elrohir found a stone bench set to the side, designed to be hidden from casual observers but still lend a good view of the gardens. It was shady and the stone felt pleasantly cool under his hand as he took a seat. He gathered his robes about him-he was unused to the restricting layers of clothing, but he would tolerate it today. Even Elladan had been surprised when he entered his twin's room that morn. He said that Elrohir looked quite splendid in the crimson velvet he had chosen. Elladan had then made it his task-nay, his mission-to tame Elrohir's errant hair into submission by braiding back and twisting the top half to form a sort of crown on top of his head. Elrohir had to admit that it did look quite a bit better than his usual style of letting his hair do whatever it pleased.
Elladan truly knew what today meant for him, and had left him to his own devices with a minimum of teasing and knowing looks. Now, Elrohir was alone to his own thoughts as he waited for his other half to arrive. He traced an idle hand around the carvings on the bench as his mind wandered back. A year ago, he had been sitting in this same place, hidden from view and alone with his thoughts. He had traced the same patterns on the bench, wondering what they meant to whoever had carved them. It was a well-made bench, and he hoped that the artisan who created it was proud of his work.
Elrohir remembered how he had looked up towards the house then, and he had seen Legolas and Elladan sitting on a balcony near by. Legolas came up behind Elladan and wrapped his arms around his brother. They had stayed like that for a long time, speaking of nothing and not moving. He had wished so hard then that he had someone to do nothing with. Then, then Glorfindel had come around the corner-the one with the rose bushes just there-and changed his life.
Glorfindel had professed his love to Elrohir.
Elrohir smiled as he thought of how shy he had been, and how he hoped that his brother wasn't watching him from that balcony (which, of course, he had). Most of all, he hoped that Glorfindel had the correct person, and that he wouldn't realize that it was actually Elrohir in front of him and not Elladan. But no, Glorfindel had the correct twin after all.
Elrohir was pulled back to the present by the slight movement of shadows and rustle of leaves that indicated a person coming down the path. He smoothed his robes and resisted the urge to touch his hair to make sure that it was still behaving. The person-people, actually-rounded the corner, and to his disappointment, it was merely Legolas's escort from Mirkwood. The walked past, but stopped a few feet away from Elrohir's concealed perch. They were talking quite loudly, obviously at ease and thinking themselves alone in the secluded corner of the gardens.
"I have heard some interesting stories in my life, but surely you are making this one up," one of their voices drifted on the air.
"I jest not!" the other answered. "Ask anyone. The Prince himself will verify it. It is not as though they have denied it publicly. It is common knowledge."
"How can his father allow this? Well, I suppose it is not his fault. They have both fallen for the seductions of an...older individual."
"There is no excuse, if you want my opinion. He should have been thrown out of this valley decades ago!"
"I still cannot believe that the famous Glorfindel would bed the father and then the son that he himself was Guardian of."
"Perhaps he has exotic tastes, and you know that there is only one line of truly half-elven in Arda. Maybe they make good bedtoys."
"Perhaps Glorfindel is like an heirloom that the Peredhils pass down with every generation!"
The pair laughed as they headed off again, but Elrohir had heard enough. He felt sick to the very core of his being. The bench was suddenly very cold and hard, and the garden felt too exposed. Gathering his robes around him as best he could, Elrohir fled down the path to the comfort of his own rooms.
Glorfindel was more worried than he had been in a long while. Elrohir was not in the gardens as they had planned, and no one seemed to have seen either twin. Elladan he could understand, as Legolas was visiting for another year and they were most likely making themselves scarce to lend his brother some much needed privacy. Finally, he arrived in the twins' wing of the Great House and knocked quietly on Elrohir's door. There was no answer, but Glorfindel still opened the door, in case there were any clues inside as to his whereabouts.
Glorfindel was surprised to see Elrohir curled up on the bed, staring blankly at the wall. He quickly closed the door behind him and went to sit on the edge of the bed. Elrohir was not asleep and there were tears coursing down his face.
"Oh, Elrohir, what is wrong?" Glorfindel pleaded, resting a hand on his shaking shoulder.
Elrohir bit his lip and shook his head, not wanting to speak. He wanted Glorfindel to leave and not come back so that he could never again tarnish the Eldar's reputation.
"Tell me, Elrohir," Glorfindel said, nuzzling the side of his neck and speaking in his ear. "Even if I cannot be of help, it will make your burden less to be able to speak of it out loud." Still, there was no answer. "Is it me, then? Have I done something to hurt you?"
"Never!" came the choked answer. Elrohir started to nearly sob at the idea of Glorfindel thinking that he was at fault for his tears. He caved in and told Glorfindel about the conversation he overheard.
"Ai, Elrohir!" Glorfindel sighed, gathering the younger Elf into a strong embrace. "It would be a beautiful world if we could only hear the voices of those we love and love us in return. Pay no heed to the small minded. It is themselves they hurt by spreading such hateful rumors."
Elrohir wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "It is not true, then? You did not sleep with my father?"
Glorfindel looked him in the eyes. "It would be a lie if I said no, Elrohir." Elrohir looked fairly horror-stricken at the confession. "Peace, my love," Glorfindel continued. "It was in a darker time, before your mother and father found each other. Your father was young then, and I was..younger. There was no love between us and we both knew it."
Elrohir absorbed the information in silence. "Have you ever loved anyone...before me, that is?" he asked finally.
Glorfindel smiled, but it was sad and not bitter. "Yes, I have. But that was a lifetime ago, and he is long departed for the Halls of Mandos."
Elrohir sat up in silence, still sniffling occasionally. "I love you," he said simply. "No one before you."
Glorfindel gathered him up again, kissing him soundly. "You are young yet," he said, a bit of laughter coloring his tone. "Say that again in 5,000 years."
Elrohir smiled at his lover. "Don't worry. I will."