Time Enough for Love
by Elfscribe, elfscribe5@yahoo.com
Characters: Legolas/OC (Elwin), Elrond/Glorfindel, Lindir/OC
This chapter NC-17
Disclaimers, see chapter 1
Beta: Capella
Warning: violence
****************************

Chapter 9 - Sense of Evil

Glorfindel stared into their small fire as he listened to the rain sluicing down
outside their shelter. The flames licking around the dark wood seemed to form a
horned face with a roaring mouth and fiery eyes. He shook his head to clear the
dreadful vision, the one that invaded his blackest nightmares. There was
something about this place that was making him uneasy. The seneschal turned to
look at Legolas. Firelight illuminated the prince's beautiful cheekbones, cast
shadows under his eyes. He hugged his long legs up to his chest, resting his
chin on his knees. Young and old at the same time he seemed. As they all were,
Glorfindel reflected.

"Well, my Lord, I am listening," Legolas said.

"What do you know of the fall of Gondolin?" Glorfindel asked.

"I know what the history books tell of it. I have read Morland the Scholar's
account in my father's library."

Glorfindel snorted. "Yes, the dry rind of facts with the juice of experience
sucked out."

"Morland should have consulted with you, then." Legolas smiled slightly.

"When it was written during the early part of the Second Age I was in the Halls
still awaiting my fate. There were few enough left to tell the tale as it
happened and none of the principals."

"Tell me."

"Very well, but you shall have the short version of the tale as we need to go
back as soon as the rain stops."

The prince nodded. His warm side was pressed against Glorfindel, proving
something of a distraction. The seneschal rubbed a hand over his chin,
thoughtfully.

"I only remember it in bits and pieces, like a series of paintings. Mostly I
remember the emotions. It was a day of pain, the like of which I never want to
experience again. We'd fled the wreck of the city, leaving behind the thick
mists and fires, the din of clanging swords and roaring beasts. We had climbed
high on that precarious trail toward the high pass, Cristhorn. There was a hard,
cold wind blowing and snow swirled about us. Our group was nearly overcome with
weariness and sorrow. For myself, I was sick with grief. My lover had perished
before my eyes and it was only my duty to the king's family that kept me going."

Legolas shifted and his eyes asked the question. Glorfindel smiled grimly. "The
histories don't make mention of that, do they? Indeed it was fair Ecthelion, who
slew Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs and was himself slain in the process." The
seneschal sighed heavily, feeling once again an echo of that terrible loss which
he thought had all been burned away in the thousands of years since.

"Idril was stumbling and having a hard time breathing in that high place. Her
son Eärendil walked beside her. I remember the brightness of the child's eyes
and thinking that he was bearing up remarkably well considering his earlier
ordeal. Tuor had gone on ahead. I had taken up a position at the rear of the
group.

"Then I heard the uncouth bellowing of orcs and we were beset at the top of the
pass. They began rolling boulders down through our group, crushing some among
us. The remaining force was hard pressed. Tuor had to rally them to attack and
try to drive a wedge through to permit our escape. I remember the shrieks as we
threw our enemies off the precipice. Just as I felt I couldn't raise my hand for
another blow, it seemed we were triumphant and our enemies were giving way. Then
I felt the very mountain shake with the tread of something monstrous coming up
the path behind us. And he appeared. My heart nearly failed me. Tall seeming as
the tower of Turgon, his leathery wings half unfurled. Dark red flames licked up
and down that horrific soot-black body. In one hand he held his bright whip, and
the thongs whined and sighed as he whirled them about his head. I saw Idril
cowering down with one hand raised against the sight and Tuor clutching the
child to his chest, the others clustered
around him, shocked into stillness. I remember one moment of utter despair.

"Then I thought of my beloved standing bravely before Gothmog, like a fair
flower wrought of iron, refusing to let him pass. Heard my own cry as they
plunged into the fountain together. A terrible anger awoke within me. There is
nothing like that moment of resolve when all questions, concerns, and cares fall
away and you know what you must do. I was no longer myself but a being of wind
and lightning."

He heard Legolas's quick intake of breath. "Yes, I too have felt the consuming
ecstasy of battle," he said, "where you lose yourself and become something
greater."

Glorfindel smiled. "Almost like the culmination reached in an act of love, but
this is the opposite, a culmination reached through fear and rage."

"I understand," Legolas said.

"I cried out my defiance and rushed at him. He cast a malevolent glare upon me
and then I heard the hiss and crackle as his sword met mine. My arm felt almost
broken at the impact." He paused and looked out into the night. In the
firelight, the falling rain appeared as a hail of spears. "I don't remember the
details of our battle together. It seemed to last forever and I was weakening
and desperate. Driven close to the edge of the precipice, he momentarily lost
his balance and I saw my chance to defeat him. I knew also in that instant what
it would cost. Reaching high over my head, I thrust a dagger into his belly, and
was deafened by his shriek. He grabbed at me. We teetered on the edge and
together we fell."

The fire popped and threw out some sparks. Legolas shifted slightly. Glorfindel
felt him shiver.

"I remember the falling sensation in the pit of my stomach; the agony as his
fire seared my skin. We hit, and my body seemed to shatter into a thousand
screaming pieces. And then blackness."

Glorfindel sucked in a breath, which hissed over his teeth. He attempted to
gather his thoughts. The memories, even now after years of attempting to recall,
seemed dreamlike, as if they were a tale someone else had told him.

Legolas nudged him and raised his eyebrows, so Glorfindel continued.

"There was a sense of endless nights passing, without light or sound, and
suddenly I awoke. I lay in a bed with a soft light falling on me or perhaps it
was emanating from me. I couldn't be sure. There was a sound of whispers in the
room and water splashing in a fountain outside. My body seemed insubstantial, as
if I could float away like a feather borne on the back of a stream. For a long
while, I didn't know my name or my history. I just had a sense of expectancy. An
age rolled past in the world, which seemed to me as a few years. I remember
wandering and feeling lost and little else of my time there, Legolas."

"Did you meet him again? Your lover."

"Yes, briefly. But it was not the same. You feel no pain there but also no
pleasure. And I knew in my heart that my sojourn there was not forever. I had
long periods of instruction where I learned about my strengths and failings and
I repented of my past misdeeds. One day I was summoned to Mandos's great
audience hall. Mandos stood off to the side and I beheld Manwë himself. He sat
in an immense stone chair, huge and terrible in his shining beauty, an eagle
perched on his shoulder. He looked at me with great golden eyes and said he was
sending me back. When I asked why, he said, "You will find out, ere the end."

Legolas was staring at him, his face full of wonder. "You have met the Lord of
the Valar," he breathed.

Glorfindel nodded. "I have indeed. As I recall, he had no sense of humor." He
paused. "Or perhaps it was subtle as he did send me back to try again."
Legolas chuckled and Glorfindel continued, "I was reborn in a seaside town near
the city of Alqualondë on the shores of Valinor and grew up with new parents. My
childhood was difficult. These memories only came back slowly, in terrifying
shreds until I finally could put them together and understand their meaning. I
learned that the world had changed. The seas were bent and the land I had known,
destroyed. My great enemy, Morgoth, had been cast down and his servant Sauron
had arisen and was now a new threat, but my soul had seen enough of war and I
had determined to live out my life quietly.

"Then one day, I received a message that my services were needed back in Middle
Earth to serve the High King, Gil-galad. I debated the matter with myself for a
while but the will of the Valar is not to be denied. I came to Lindon where I
met Gil-galad and his herald, Elrond. I served the king's court as strategist
and advisor. When the king fell during the assault of the Last Alliance, I
supported Elrond as well as I could and eventually returned with him to
Imladris. Curious, isn't it, how fate had brought me back to serve the offspring
of the child I had helped save at Cristhorn?"

"Do you believe then, that there is a design to fate?"

"Yes, I do. I have come to believe my purpose is to protect Elrond and Imladris
from Morgoth's servants, even if it again causes my death."

Legolas looked thoughtful, "I wish to know, after all this, friend, do you fear
death?"

Glorfindel sighed. "Only a fool does not. The tiniest creature flinches from
pain. But I know that the pain is transitory. We do have choices in this life
and the test, Legolas, has to do with love. You can choose light and love or
darkness and death. There are many who walk in the light of Anor and yet are
overtaken by darkness. They are as if already dead. You must always love as
deeply and powerfully as you can. If you do that, your true purpose will be
fulfilled."

Legolas sighed and shifted uncomfortably. Glorfindel watched him press a hand
over his heart.

"You are in pain, mellon nîn," Glorfindel said. "What is it?"

Legolas looked into the night with unfocussed eyes. "I want to love Elwin," he
said simply.

"Do you not?" Glorfindel asked.

"I do, but . . . I am afraid to . . . " Legolas made a quick scrabbling motion
at his chest. He tried to speak and then choked out, "The dragon . . . ."

Glorfindel leaned over and gently kissed Legolas's forehead. The prince looked
at him, startled. "Let it go," Glorfindel said.

Legolas's chest heaved and then he said desperately, "I cannot. I am no
elfling."

"No, you are a warrior, of that I have no doubt," Glorfindel said. "But you must
learn to let go of the pain anyway. There is no honor in holding onto it."

A tear coursed down Legolas's face and he wiped it away with an angry jerk of
his hand. "It feels like a hesitation, like a lie," he said finally, "as if I've
committed an infidelity, when in fact, I have not."

Glorfindel smoothed the hair away from Legolas's face, his fingers pressing
various points on the prince's temples as he softly sang healing words learned
from Elrond.

Legolas sighed and leaned his head against the seneschal's shoulder. "That feels
good," he murmured. He stared at the fire for a while. "It would seem,
Balrog-slayer, that I have a choice: stay with Elwin in Imladris to love him as
best I can and await whatever fate has in store or go back to Mirkwood, hoping
that action prevents his untimely death. I am thinking the latter course is the
best."

"If you go, it would break his heart," Glorfindel said.

"Elwin is strong. He would survive without me," Legolas replied. "And that is
the thing. He would survive. Elrond saw me in his vision. He said I came too
late. If I am not with Elwin, perhaps the whole chain of events will be
undone."

"Perhaps, perhaps not."

Legolas sat up abruptly. He pulled his knife from its sheath and angrily shoved
it into the ground. "What am I to do then? No choice is good."

"I am not the best one to consult in matters of the heart, mellon nîn,"
Glorfindel said. His thoughts drifted to the last morning with Elrond.

**********
He was holding Elrond close, his face pressed into fragrant dark hair as he
thrust frantically into that velvet-hot sanctuary. Oh blessed Arda, it felt so
good. There was no place he'd rather be than here, buried deeply inside his
beloved. It had been too long. Elrond moaned and rocked under him. The
seneschal felt his release building until suddenly he catapulted into shining
ecstasy. He heard himself crying aloud. Moments later, Elrond also cried out and
Glorfindel felt hot seed pulse against his belly. Afterward he lay with his legs
entwined in Elrond's, his body still echoing with flute notes of pleasure.
Caressing the hair back from Elrond's face, he stared into his lord's clear grey
eyes and wondered how he could be so lucky as to have this second chance at
love.

"You are my reason for living, melda," Glorfindel said.

Elrond smiled and brought Glorfindel's hand to his lips but he didn't say
anything. A knock came at the door. A messenger's voice. "Sorry to disturb you
my Lord, but Elwin seeks an audience. He says it's urgent."

Glorfindel saw the shutters close in Elrond's eyes, his shoulders buckle as if
the burden had descended again. The Lord of Imladris twisted the glittering blue
ring on his middle finger, turning it in the light. "Well then, we had better
get up," he said with a heavy sigh.

Later, while Glorfindel packed, Elrond had come into the room. He stood for a
while watching him then said, "I am wondering why you volunteered for this
journey?"

"Need you ask?" the seneschal replied.

"It seems more than just your desire to protect our lovely Elwin. I think you
are restless, vanima," Elrond said. "I have sensed it for some time now."

"And I have sensed weariness and distress from you. It has interfered with our
relationship, melda. I am worried about you."

"You can't understand, Glorfindel."

"Try me," Glorfindel growled.

"You know what it takes to maintain this haven amidst the storms of the world."

"I think Vilya is eating you alive. I think you should take it off for a while
so you can truly rest. Let the warriors protect Imladris. Let *me* do it for
you!"

Elrond's eyes flashed. "You do *not* understand me, Seneschal, even after all
this time. Perhaps you are right to take this journey. Maybe we need a rest from
each other."

"So be it," Glorfindel said angrily.

They had not even kissed goodbye.

**********
Legolas's warm shoulder felt good. Glorfindel looked at the prince and
discovered him looking back with those intense sea-blue eyes. The corners of his
lips turned up into a questioning smile. For a moment Glorfindel considered
leaning forward and finding out how those lovely lips tasted.

"What are you thinking?" Legolas asked.

"I'm thinking the rain has stopped."

It had. There was only a steady drip, drip from the trees. The sky was
brightening with impending dawn.

"And I am thinking that we had better go back or Elwin will be frantic," Legolas
said. He sat up and stretched. "Thank you, Lord Glorfindel."

"At your service, Prince Legolas."

Glorfindel put his hand on the ground to push himself up and then stiffened. He
leaned over, laid his ear to the earth and listened for a long time. "Do you
sense anything?" he asked.

Legolas shook his head.

Glorfindel rose with an anxious expression. "There is something evil afoot. I
can feel it. We must return immediately." He gripped the hilt of his knife.

*******************************
Elwin felt useless to anyone, particularly himself. His eyes stung with tears.
His insides were in turmoil. Margaret and Lisbet were composing Will's limbs,
folding his hands onto his breast, then carefully combing his hair and washing
his face. He looked like a wax doll. Elwin wondered where all the vitality that
had been Will had gone. He shifted awkwardly.

Margaret looked up at him. "Master Elwin, there is hot tea downstairs if you
would like," she said gently. "We need to finish dressing him. And tomorrow, I
am sure Tim could use your help as a pall bearer."

"I may have to leave before that, my lady."

She looked startled. "I thought . . . ."

"Pardon me. I need to see where my friends have gone," Elwin said. He bowed and
then turned and left the room.

Downstairs he sought out Thornan. "We need to go and find Legolas and
Glorfindel," he said.

"I would advise against leaving. They know we are here," Thornan replied. "We
could miss them in the woods."

"You heard Timothy earlier. We're not wanted here," Elwin said.

"We could get the horses ready. Pack up. Perhaps they will return by then,"
Thornan said.

He was right, Elwin thought. He shouldn't let the unpleasantness with Timothy
cloud his judgement. He went out into the yard toward the barn and squinted at
the rising sun, shivery pale through the fog. This whole day did not feel right
to him. He was fair gutted with sorrow and worry.

He went into the stall of his horse, Eledhwen. She made a throaty rumble of
recognition and nudged his arm with her nose. He patted her and then leaned his
forehead against her smooth white neck. "Something is not right, meldis nîn, I
can feel it," he whispered.

************************
Legolas's anxiety increased as he and Glorfindel crept through the trees, their
hands poised above their hunting knives. Something was brushing his senses now.
A feeling of imminent danger. He wished he had not foolishly run off without his
bow.

They emerged from the woods and found they were standing at the edge of an
abrupt, twenty foot drop. Across the clearing below them they could see the dark
mouth of a cave. A lumpy figure sat huddled in the entrance. He was leaning
sideways against the rock wall and appeared to be asleep. Glorfindel grabbed
Legolas by the arm and dragged him down as he threw himself flat. They crawled
to the edge of the cliff and looked down.

"Do you see him?" Glorfindel whispered.

"Yes," Legolas hissed. "Curse of Mandos. Orcs! I wonder how many more there
are?"

"What are they doing here? I haven't heard of orcs in this region for hundreds
of years," Glorfindel said. His brow creased with worry.

"We came very close to this place last night," Legolas said. "No wonder we felt
so strange." Then he gripped Glorfindel's arm and looked into his eyes. "Oh
gods, is this what Elrond saw?"

"I don't know."

"Well, I do know that where there's one, there's more of them. Like rats,"
Legolas said with a curl of his lip. "What do we do? Neither of us have our
weapons."

Glorfindel thought for a moment. "I think we need to separate and check the
perimeter to see if there are more about. We'll meet down there near the
entrance." He pointed. "I'll dispatch the guard and you look in to see how many
we are dealing with. If I know anything about orcs, they'll be sound asleep at
this time of day."

"Then what?"

"If there's just a few, we go and get our weapons and come back to take care of
them. If there are more than we can engage ourselves, we return swiftly to Bree
and raise a group of armed men."

"And we keep Elwin away from them at all costs," Legolas added.

Glorfindel nodded grimly. He grasped Legolas by the forearm. "May the Valar
protect you."

"And you," Legolas murmured. The seneschal got up and faded silently into the
trees to the right. Legolas marked where he went and then moved in the opposite
direction. He felt himself flow into a heightened state of alertness, like a cat
on the prowl. He heard the whispered speech of the trees and a bird calling from
the far side of the glen. "Watch out, beware," it called. But there was no
other rumor of stray orcs. Finally when he had satisfied himself that none were
prowling about, he headed back to the spot that Glorfindel had indicated.

He saw the other elf hidden in ferns in the thick trees just opposite the mouth
of the cave. Good, he thought. It would just be a short run for both of them.
The guard was still asleep. It would be his last mistake.

Glorfindel gestured at him and then flew effortlessly across the open dell to
the cave mouth. Legolas came just behind him, saw the seneschal grasp the orc's
chin, jerk it back and soundlessly slit his throat. Legolas had to admire the
grace and skill even though a small part of him regretted the taking of a life,
even one so loathsome. He peered around the lip of the cave into the darkened
interior. Fortunately, it was still lit by the glowing embers of the fire. His
sharp eyes registered three, no, closer to four dozen slumbering forms. By the
gods, a small army. What could they all be doing here? Then he narrowed his
eyes as he saw the recent remains of a terrible slaughter and feast. He no
longer regretted the killing.

As he drew back from the cave's mouth, he saw a lurching movement out of the
corner of his eye. A black shape let out a horrible howl and knocked Legolas
over, landing on top of him. The prince pulled out his knife as he fell and
managed to stab the creature in the side, eliciting a shriek, just before the
orc's weight knocked the wind out of him. He heard Glorfindel's soft
exclamation of dismay and felt the orc being wrenched off of him. Then there was
the quick thudding of many heavily booted feet. He attempted to rise but was
thrown to the ground, a knee shoved into his back and his head hauled backward
by his hair. An edge of cold metal was pressed hard against his throat.

Legolas looked desperately in Glorfindel's direction and saw him also pinned
flat on the ground beneath several armored bodies. The seneschal managed to
throw one off and scrambled sideways out from under the other. His fair face was
distorted into a grimace as he sliced down one of the orc's legs. The orc
squealed in pain.

The creature sitting on Legolas roared, "Throw down the weapon, Elf, or I cut
this one's throat." He pressed the knife harder against Legolas.

Don't do it, Legolas thought. Run, Glorfindel! But the seneschal paused and then
tossed his knife to the ground. In an instant, several orcs were on him,
punching and kicking him in the ribs and groin. Glorfindel gasped in pain.

Iron-shod boots strolled into the prince's sight. He looked up as far as he
could into a leering face with tiny red eyes, a beak-like nose, and a snarling
mouth with sharp fangs. "Well, look what we've caught," the orc crowed. Legolas
saw the flash of a gold tooth. The orc licked his lips, then squinted upwards
towards the cloudy sky. "Get them out of the light, lads," he bellowed.

He put his mouth close to Legolas's ear and the prince shuddered at the stench
of rotten meat. "You'll wish you were dead before we're done with you, Elf," the
orc hissed.

They were dragged into the fetid cave, their hands and feet trussed tight, and
then tossed roughly on the floor, side by side. The orc who had addressed him
earlier walked slowly towards them, flipping a knife in his gnarled hand.

Legolas's belly clenched with fear. His only consolation was that Elwin was
safely back at the farmhouse.

*************************
"Master Elwin, you'll wear out that rug," Margaret said. "I'm sure there's a
good explanation as to why your companions haven't returned."

"Or a bad one," Elwin muttered. It was now late afternoon. He and Thornan had
packed up everything in preparation to leave. Margaret Rushlight had insisted
they take some food: loaves of bread, dried fruit and meat, enough to supplement
them on the return journey. Timothy had stood on the edge of their activity and
glowered every time Elwin looked over at him. Thornan seemed agitated as well,
and spent his time honing their long knives and checking over the fletching on
their arrows.

They heard hooves drumming up outside and Elwin sprinted out of the door only to
see Cade returned from his trip to Bree. The boy slid off his horse and gave
Elwin a tentative smile. "I told everyone. The funeral is set for tomorrow. Many
from the town are coming."

"Your Granddad was well loved."

"Oh aye. Over the past forty years he played at the weddings of near everyone in
these parts. Granddad said that you played at some of them yourself. Many in
town said they remember you and want to see you again."

Elwin shook his head. "I won't be here tomorrow."

Cade's face clouded. "Have Lords Glorfindel and Legolas returned?"

"Not yet."

Cade came close, leading his horse by the rein."You are worried?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm about to go and look for them."

The boy put a trembling hand on Elwin's arm. "Then, you're leaving? And not
coming back?"

Elwin smiled down at him. "Who knows what may happen," he said. He patted Cade's
hand briefly. Then a wave of anxiety passed through him. "I must go at once," he
said.

The young man threw himself at the elf, wrapping his arms about him. "Nay, I, I
won't let you go," he stammered.

Elwin gently peeled Cade's arms away. He looked into wide brown eyes.
"Practice hard, my friend and become a worthy successor to Will Rushlight. Make
me proud of you."

Cade nodded and looked teary.

Elwin glanced up. Timothy was standing in the threshold, hands planted on his
hips. "Cade!" he called sharply.

Cade bit his lip, looking up at Elwin. Slowly he moved away.

Thornan followed Timothy out of the house and Elwin strode up to him. "My heart
fails me," he said. "We must go to look for them now."

Thornan nodded. "I agree. It's been too long. I saw the direction they took. We
have a few more hours of daylight we can use to try and track them."

The family had gathered at the door and Elwin went about saying farewell to them
all. The women hugged him and Elwin hesitated before extending a hand toward
Timothy. The man folded his arms across his chest and his wife sent him a hard
look. Cade stood to the side with a stricken expression on his face.

Holding Legolas and Glorfindel's horses by a lead, the elves loaded the packs on
their steeds and swung up on their backs.

"Are you sure you have to leave?" Margaret asked.

"No choice, my lady. Farewell," Elwin said. "Namárië."

Elwin squeezed his legs against Eledhwen's sides and she leapt forward. To the
sound of the rapid beat of hooves and the hammering of his own heart, Elwin rode
toward the lengthening shadow of the forest.

***************************
meldis nîn - my friend (feminine)
melda - beloved in Quenya
vanima - beautiful in Quenya
Namárië - (you all know this one) farewell in Quenya, with a sense of finality,
like the French, adieu.
***************************
Notes about Glorfindel's story:
The detailed version of the Fall of Gondolin and Glorfindel's battle with the
Balrog is in Tolkien's Book of Lost Tales, 2. I abbreviated it and made it more
from Fin's perspective. I realize every detail is not exactly how Tolkien writes
it. A little literary license taken.

The story of Glorfindel's return to Middle Earth is in "The History of Middle
Earth, Vol. XII The Peoples of Middle Earth," in a chapter called "Last
Writings." In it Christopher Tolkien tells us his father had two versions of
Glorfindel's return. (Was the Professor trying to drive us all nuts or what?)
The first version has a reborn Glorfindel returning to Middle Earth in the Third
Age (1000) along with Gandalf and in the second version, he returns during the
Second Age "for the purpose of strengthening Gil-galad and Elrond, when the
growing evil of the intentions of Sauron were at last perceived." J.R.R.
speculates he could have come either in S.A. 1200 or 1600, "when Barad-dûr was
completed and the One Ring forged." He seems to prefer the last date. (I love
how Tolkien consistently treats this as an actual history, subject to different
interpretations and himself as a mere scholar of it, rather than its creator.)
So, I went with the S.A.1600 date. There is nothing that says
specifically where Glorfindel dwelt after he was reborn in Valinor. Smooches to
Claudio and Nefertiti for canon help. (Although in my zeal for accuracy, I had
to buy yet another book. Arg!)

-tbc-