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Yeah, so as you can see my gallery is mostly literature. If you want my art, you can find a link underneath my ID.

What's here is mostly LotR fanfiction with some Sherlock on the side, but I also do Tokio Hotel, a bit of Labyrinth and some original stuff. I dabble a little in poetry, but only when I get the bug and that's not often.

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Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Universe: 100% AU. Sorry not sorry, Professor T.
Timeline: Iavas, Third Age 2510.
Pairings: past Elrond/Gil-galad.

This chapter is longer than the last two chapters combined, so you should probably go to the loo and/or get a drink and/or a snack before you start XD I've been writing this chapter on and off for so long that it feels really odd to have finally finished it.

<><><><><>

Chapter Three - A simple question looking for an answer

Mithlond

Círdan woke the next morning before the dawn, as was his habit, and dressed in sturdy black breeches, a red linen shirt and a grey leather jerkin, suitable for a day on the sea. He was overseeing the first voyage of a ship that they had only just finished repairing after working on it for close to six months. It would take him out of the house for quite a few hours, and he paused in his study, still barefoot, to quickly write a note to his foster-son that would explain his absence. He blew on the ink as he quietly entered Ereinion's room, and placed the note on the bedside table, weighting it down by placing Ereinion's water glass on the corner.

Still moving silently, he crossed to the window and opened the gauzy grey curtains so when the sun rose there'd be some light in the room. He turned back around to find that Tirith had awoken and was sitting patiently on the carpet.

He crouched down in front of his faithful companion and rubbed the dog behind the ears. "Ready to go?" he asked softly.

Tirith looked at him for a few moments, then stood and padded a few steps back towards Ereinion's bed, and then looked back at Círdan once more. Círdan smiled. "You want to stay and keep him company?"

Tirith whined quietly and wagged his tail.

"Alright then," Círdan acquiesced, patting the wolfhound on the head once more. "I'll see you in a few hours."

Tirith licked the shipwright's hand in farewell, and then leapt lightly onto the bed and curled back up next to Ereinion. Círdan followed him over and held his beard out of the way as he bent down to press a gentle goodbye kiss on Ereinion's forehead. The reborn elf barely stirred in reply, too far in the realm of dreams for the brief contact to register. The shipwright allowed himself one more moment to marvel at his foster son's return to life, then went to put on his boots and left the house to go to work.

<><><>

Ereinion awoke a few hours after the sun, disoriented for a moment until his brain caught up and he remembered what had happened and where he was. Movement on his left drew his attention, and he looked over at Tirith, who was watching him.

"Good morning," Ereinion greeted, his voice catching in his dry throat on the last syllable. He reached for his water glass and noticed the letter that was sitting underneath it. He leaned over to pick it up with his free hand and appraised the message, recognising the spidery hand that scuttled across the paper in uniformly straight lines.

Hâlpen -

Just letting you know that I will be out for a few hours this morning; we have been repairing a ship that was severely damaged in a collision with the headland not long ago, and it is finally seaworthy so today we're taking her out for a constitutional. (This is what I started to tell you last night, just before you went to bed.)  I'm so sorry to leave you alone but this has to be done today because there's some heavy rain coming in that won't let up for a few days once it starts and we need to know whether she is seaworthy again as soon as possible. We're not going to sail very far - a little way up the Gulf and back, most likely, so I will be back around lunch time. Maybe sooner if the rain comes in quicker than we've anticipated.

Everything is in the same place it always was, so if you need anything you know where to find it. Your clothes are packed in trunks in your wardrobe, but if you don't feel like unpacking feel free to borrow something of mine and I'll help you sort everything out when I get back.

See you soon,
Otaro

P.S. Tirith elected to stay and keep you out of trouble; please try and keep him out of trouble as well.


Ereinion smiled fondly at the postscript, and reached over to scratch the dog behind his ears. "Trouble? You? What's he talking about?" he teased. Tirith licked Ereinion's face and then settled down at the former King's side. Ereinion smiled and slung an arm over the dog, content to just lie there and snuggle for a few minutes.

After a while Tirith shifted out from under Ereinion's arm and leapt off the bed, moving to stand expectantly by the door.

Ereinion moved up onto his elbows and looked at the wolfhound. "Is this your way of telling me it's breakfast time?" Tirith barked and wagged his tail, taking a few steps out into the corridor and turning back to look at Ereinion, who chuckled.

"Alright, alright, I'm up." He rubbed his face and got out of bed, stretching briefly, before following the dog out of the door and down the stairs to the kitchen.

<><><>

The Gulf of Lhûn

Dear Elrond-

I am writing to let you know that you can disregard my last letter. All is well.


Círdan sat in the Captain's cabin of the HMS Anestáriel, and tapped the feathered end of his quill against his lips as he contemplated how to continue.

I appreciate that this will make about as much sense as my previous missive did - which is to say, none - but let me assure you that there is no need to worry. All will be explained in due course, but it is a tale better told in person. I promise to regale you with it the next time I visit your fair valley, in Echuir.


Círdan was just about to dip the quill in the ink pot, which sat in a nook that had been built into the surface of the desk, when a voice from the doorway startled him.

"Is it wise to catch up on your correspondence now, Círdan? Your handwriting is barely legible even when you're writing on solid ground."

The quill clattered quietly onto the corner of the wooden desktop and promptly slid off as the ship crested a wave. Círdan leaned down to retrieve it, shooting Galdor a mock glare as he straightened up.

"Insolent landlubber," he muttered as he turned back to the desk and surveyed it for spilled ink. He was pleased to note that there was none: the recessed ink pot had done its job well.

Galdor grinned and moved into the room, taking the seat across from Círdan at the desk. "Who are you writing to?"

"Elrond. Telling him not to concern himself with the missing body of the King."

The younger elf's eyes widened. "Did you get to the bottom of it?"

"I believe so," Círdan replied. He could feel Galdor's expectant anticipation and glanced up at his trusted friend. He smiled ruefully. "I don't think you'll believe me if I tell you."

Galdor considered this comment and the question he had originally come to ask, and he swallowed hard as the pieces fell into place. "It wouldn't...have anything to do with the person you picked up from the beach last night, would it?"

Círdan sighed. "We were seen?"

"From a distance. No one recognised the person with you, but it was assumed that someone had drunk a little too much and passed out." Galdor leaned forward. "Círdan, was it him? Has he returned?"

The shipwright was unable to suppress the grin that spread across his face. "Yes. Yes, he has been returned to us."

His grin was infectious and Galdor couldn't help but return it. He reached out and placed his hands over Círdan's, which were folded together and resting on the desktop.

"That is wonderful news." Círdan had been more cheerful that morning than he had been in a long time, and now Galdor understood why. He had served the shipwright as confidant and emissary for many centuries, and knew how heavily the loss of Ereinion had weighed on him. That burden had been lifted, and the change was immediately visible.

"I would appreciate it if you did not tell anyone of this; at least not yet. He has not even been back for an entire day, and so much about his return is still uncertain."

Galdor nodded. "I understand. I will be as silent as the stars."

"Thank you, Galdor." Círdan moved his hands to grip those of the younger elf, and squeezed them in gratitude for a brief moment before letting go and reaching once again for his letter.

Galdor watched as the shipwright finished his letter and sanded it, glancing out of the cabin's window and appraising their distance from the heavy clouds on the horizon. "She's doing well," Círdan said. "Looks like we'll outrun that rain after all."

"Yes, I believe we will. You've done well with her, Círdan. You always do."

Círdan blew the excess sand off of the parchment and folded the letter. "Well, I better get back out on deck. It does not do for the captain to hide in his cabin on a ship's maiden voyage."

Galdor laughed and agreed. Círdan slid the letter into the inner breast pocket of his tunic and followed the younger elf up into the sunlight.

<><><>

Mithlond

Having successfully lit a fire to dispel the chill, Ereinion fed Tirith and then ate his fill of bread and jam, relishing at the simple but divine flavours and textures.

"Jam is underrated," he said to the wolfhound, who was too busy eating his own breakfast to react. Ereinion shrugged and helped himself to another slice. Once that had been eaten he decided that three was enough, and got up to make himself a cup of tea, licking a drop of magenta deliciousness off his thumb as he went. He filled the kettle and boiled the water easily enough, and reached for the tea canister, thinking to himself as he pulled the lid off that not much had changed in three thousand years. He looked down into the canister and did a double take.

"...I was not expecting that," he murmured to himself. Instead of loose leaves, the canister was filled with tiny muslin bags. Ereinion picked one up and looked at it in bewilderment. There was a short length of string tied to the stitches at the top of the bag, and a small square of coloured paper tied onto the other end of the string.

Ereinion peered closer at the muslin pouch and noticed that the contents resembled tea leaves. After a quick olfactory test, he decided that's what they were, and placed the bag into his mug, draping the string over the edge. After all, they were in the tea canister. What else would they be?

He poured hot water into the mug, and learnt the hard way that it helps to hold onto the tag when the square rapidly travelled up the side of the mug and disappeared into the liquid. He turned away to get a spoon and, after waiting a moment to let the tea steep, fished the bag out and placed it to the side on the sink. He hadn't been watching when Círdan made their tea last night and so was unfamiliar with this new method, but it seemed simple enough. More convenient too, if one was only after one cup of tea, and involved less tealeaf wastage. He mixed in his milk and sugar and took a sip, closing his eyes in satisfaction.

He carried his mug up the stairs and sat it on his dressing table, and then quickly ducked into the bathroom to brush his hair and answer the call of nature before he faced the daunting task before him. He re-entered his bedroom and turned to face his wardrobe. He hated unpacking and was not looking forward to this at all.

"It's now or never," he muttered. Ereinion took a deep breath to brace himself, and opened one of the doors.

Instead of being full of dusty trunks, all of his clothes were...hanging, neatly, exactly where he would have hung them. Confused, he opened the other two wardrobe doors and all of his drawers and found that the situation was the same in all of them. Ereinion stepped back, frowning. This was all very weird. He grabbed Círdan's letter from his bed and re-read it, just to make sure that it said what he thought it had said.

Your clothes are packed in trunks in your wardrobe, but if you don't feel like unpacking feel free to borrow something of mine and I'll help you sort everything out when I get back.


Yes, that was what he thought.

Ereinion looked at his neatly hanging clothes in bewilderment for another moment, then passed his hands over his face and decided to not question it. 'Don't look a gift horse in the mouth', as they say. He successfully located his favourite tunic and grabbed a jerkin and some leggings to match, and changed into them. A pair of socks completed his outfit, and he picked up his tea and drank the rest of it on his way back to the staircase. He peeked into the storage room and saw the trunks that Círdan had presumably used to store his clothes stacked up neatly on one wall, now empty.

He went downstairs and put his mug with the other dishes that were in the sink, then wandered into the front room. Tirith was lying on the carpet in front of the hearth, exactly where Ereinion had left him. With a smile the reborn elf headed straight for the bookshelf, having decided that since his morning was unexpectedly free, the first thing he should do was catch up on recent history. He found a book, predictably written by Erestor, titled In The Aftermath: A Firsthand Account of the Closing of the Second Age and the Dawning of the Third. It sounded like exactly the book he needed. He briefly wondered if there were any more, but then decided that one would be enough to begin with, and sprawled onto the sofa to read it.

A couple of hours later Ereinion looked up from his reading to see that the clouds, which had been darkening slowly all morning, had now blocked out the majority of the daylight and were beginning to rumble quietly but ominously. Ereinion yawned and noticed that he was almost halfway through the book. It was not an easy era to read about, but Ereinion supposed that it was easier for him to read it than it had been for everyone else to live it.

"Definitely time for a break, I think. What say you?" He asked Tirith, who had tired of his position on the carpet and decided to wedge himself between the back of the sofa and Ereinion's legs. Tirith whined and yawned himself, which Ereinion took as assent. He got up and stretched, put some more wood on the fire, and set about lighting the lamps to brighten the room back up a bit. While lighting the lamp in the kitchen he caught sight of a ship returning down the Gulf, and recognised it as one of Círdan's. It looked to be about an hour out from the shore, and it would take at least a further half an hour for her to be docked and secured against the storm, not to mention the time it would take Círdan to actually arrive home. Ereinion decided that he would make lunch for his foster father. A brief search around the kitchen uncovered the ingredients he needed, and he lit the wood stove and set to work.

<><><>

Círdan sighed gratefully as he walked through the front door into his warm, bright house. He waved to Galdor who continued on his own way home, Círdan's letter in his pocket to send out in the morning with other missives bound for Imladris. Ereinion glanced up from his book, and if he noticed the look of wistful longing on his foster father's face, he said nothing. Tirith wasted no time in leaping off the lounge and bounding over to his master, who shut the door and crouched down to meet him.

"Hello you," he greeted, fielding licks to the face as he rubbed the wolfhound behind the ears. "Stay out of trouble? Good," he said when Tirith barked in agreement.

"Good trip?" Ereinion asked, greeting the shipwright with a hug when Círdan straightened up.

"Yes, it was. In actual fact I think she sails better now than she did before."

Ereinion chuckled. "I saw her come in, she's beautiful. What's her name?"

Círdan gave him a knowing smile. "Anestáriel."

Ereinion couldn't help but break into a surprised and delighted grin. The ship was named after his mother. He nodded, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. "It suits her."

"Aye. Something smells delicious," the shipwright said, changing the subject.

"Are you hungry?"

"Starving."

"Excellent," Ereinion beamed. "I made lunch. Fresh bread and vegetable soup."

Círdan made to follow his foster son to the table, and found that he was the one with an unexpected lump in his throat.

"What is it?" the younger elf asked when he turned and saw that Círdan had stopped. The shipwright shook his head.

"Nothing. Just...it is wonderful to come home to a house that isn't empty." His voice cracked on the last word and he buried his face in his hands, overcome with the realisation of how lonely he'd been for the last Age, and the knowledge that he no longer had to endure it.

Ereinion swiftly moved back over to where Círdan was standing and gathered his foster father into his arms. He, too, had realised how lonely Círdan must have been. All this time he had been thinking about Elrond, and it had never occurred to him that the shipwright might wish for his return just as much. He patted Círdan on the back as he rode out the wave of emotion that had broken over him. Tirith padded over to them and pressed his head against Círdan's leg, whining softly, and three of them held each other close for a few moments more. The bearded elf was the first to pull away, smiling somewhat ashamedly as he pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose.

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't be," Ereinion replied.

Círdan exhaled. "Now, lunch. I really am starving."

Ereinion laughed and they moved over to the table. He put a bowl full of soup in front of Círdan and set out the bread and butter, then fed Tirith once again and sat down to his own portion.

The storm broke just as they finished their meal, and Círdan swore quietly.

"I was hoping I'd have time to go out and make sure everyone was prepared before the rain hit," he said in reply to Ereinion's questioning expression. He watched the rain through the kitchen window for a few seconds, and then stood. "I better go out anyway, just to make sure."

Ereinion also stood, following the shipwright to the door. "Do you need my help?"

Círdan sighed. "I probably would, but it's better if you stay here. There's a time and place to announce your return, and it's not in the middle of a storm."

The reborn elf nodded in understanding. Círdan patted Tirith and told him to stay there with Ereinion. The former king handed Círdan his coat and a lantern. The shipwright slipped into his coat and took then lantern, bid farewell, and stepped out into the gloom.

<><><>

Círdan returned a few hours later and, after assuring his foster son that no person or building had or would come to any serious harm, immediately disappeared into the bathroom to wash away the rain and mud that had accumulated on his person. Ereinion waited to hear the sound of the water draining out of the tub, and then got up and put the kettle over the fire to boil. By the time Círdan was dried and dressed, the tea was ready, and the shipwright sank onto the couch and gratefully drank of the warm liquid. Ereinion drank his own tea and left Círdan in peace for a moment, but after a while the thoughts that had been plaguing him since the previous evening become too much for him to hold in.

"Otaro, can I ask you something?"

Círdan looked at his foster son over the rim of his mug. "Of course."

"How much do you know about the passage of time in Arda in relation to the passage of time in Valinor?"

"Almost nothing, hâlpen; I have only ever lived on this side of the ocean. Why do you ask?"

"I am not sure how much time has passed here, but to my reckoning it has only been three and a half weeks since Celebrían arrived in Aman, and she said that the journey down the Straight Road took around sixty days. Is that the same amount of time?"

"No," Círdan answered, "Celebrían left on Ethuil 6; it is now Iavas 26. That's 150 days, almost three seasons."

Ereinion frowned. "But doesn't rebirth usually take years? I thought that surrogate parents must be found to create a body, and then that body must reach maturity before memories of the first life are returned. And yet," he continued, "here I am, fully grown, with all the memories of my past life, and no matter what timing you use, it has not even been six months. I understand that the rules of time do not apply to the Valar as they apply to us, but I would have thought it impossible to require a mature body - much less one that looks the same as my other one - within that small space of time. Even for them."

"Ah," Círdan replied. "I wondered when this would come up."

The shipwright put down his mug, caught his foster son's eyes, and elaborated in his customary roundabout fashion. "Firstly, there is no 'usual' in this case. An elf has been reborn into Arda from Mandos precisely once before, and that was Glorfindel. In his case he was literally reborn, albeit to a different set of parents - the sister and brother-in-law of his original father - and a body was created for him through the usual channels of conception and gestation. He started again, from the very beginning. I would not call what happened with you a 'rebirth', but a 'rehousing'. That's not a replica of your body, it is your body. It's the only one you've ever had, and the only one you will ever have. But I'll get back to that in a minute.

"After you died, Elrond refused to let us build a customary pyre for you. He said that he wouldn't be able to stand there and watch you burn a second time...and that if we made him do so, he would cast himself into the flames with you."

Círdan was silent for a moment, remembering.

"Elrond, he is dead," Erestor had said, ever the voice of logic. "He will not feel it."

"I know that," snapped Elrond. "I am not an idiot. It is not that I don't want him to experience incineration a second time. I don't want to have to
watch him be incinerated a second time. You cannot make me watch that again. If you do, I will be the one being incinerated and you will be watching."

Erestor was wide-eyed and silent in the face of Elrond's vehemence.

Elrond passed a hand over his face. "He will not be cremated. I refuse to allow it."


Ereinion's only other close blood relative was his sister Eäthiriel who had stayed behind in Forlond as Queen Regent. As such, in that tent Elrond was the King's closest kin, and it was known that even though no vows had been spoken, their souls were bound together. As far as everyone present was concerned, Elrond had the spousal right to make funerary decisions. His word was final. And so it had been obeyed.

"I would not have called it insanity, but...he was not quite in his right mind, at least." Círdan added, seeing that Ereinion had raised his eyebrows in shock upon learning of Elrond's ultimatum. "It was entirely understandable, under the circumstances; and I must admit the idea of cremating you did not sit well with me either, given the nature of your death." Círdan had seconded Elrond's wishes in that impromptu council meeting, so even without Elrond's blood and pseudo-marital ties to the King, the cremation would not have happened. The shipwright had fostered many children throughout his long years, but none had felt quite so much like his own children as Ereinion and his sister. He felt as Elrond did that watching Ereinion burn once was once too many, and to witness it again, even taking place in such a commonplace ceremony, would have been unbearable.

"We did end up making a pyre of your belongings, and we performed all of the rites and said all of the words to give your spirit the necessary send-off. After the fire had burnt out and we had turned to leave, Elrond turned back, and walked into the remains of the fire. He told me later that a flash of silver had caught his eye. Out of the ashes he picked up Aeglos - spear handle included, your crown and the standard he had carried for you. None of them had burned at all, or showed any damage whatsoever. Your crown and the spearhead were not even slightly warm; it was as if the fire had remade them instead of destroying them. None of us were sure what it meant. I'm still not, although now I suppose it might have been a sign that one day you would return to us on these shores. Or perhaps it is something entirely different. Only the Valar know.

"Later that night I went into the tent where we were keeping your body and found Elrond at your side. By that stage words were superfluous, and I knew that if I asked after his wellbeing he simply would not answer, so I merely sat down on your other side and kept vigil with him. Some elves had been buried, as their remaining kin and friends felt as we did about cremation. After a while, Elrond said that he did not want to bury you either, because he suspected that in a few hundred years the marshland of Emyn Muil would spread out to what had become our burial ground. He was right, it did. The earth became soft and the bodies it concealed were dislodged, and many rose to the surface and are still visible. Men call it the Dead Marshes, and the legend is that dark spirits have overtaken the waters and the bodies of the Elves buried there, and now haunt the marsh, waylaying unwary travellers and leading them to a watery death."

Marsh-wights. Ereinion shuddered, grateful beyond words that he had not ended up like that.

"And then Elrond asked me what we were going to do, if both burning and burial were out of the question," Círdan continued. A small smile crossed his face. "He was already so wise and knew so much, but there were yet limits to what he knew of elves and the nature of our immortality."

The shipwright glanced up and saw that Ereinion had cocked his head and was looking at him with a perplexed frown. "Ah, you don't know either," Círdan murmured to himself.

"Know what?"

"Tell me, young one: what does immortality mean?"

"It means that if we are not killed by violence or sorrow, we will live forever, free from the ravages of time."

"Free from the ravages of time," Círdan echoed. "Yes. That is an excellent choice of words.

He smiled when he saw that Ereinion was still confused. "We are constant, hâlpen. Our bodies grow to maturity and then the changes cease, and unless we are subject to injury or rare illness, no circumstances can induce further change."

Ereinion felt as though he was on the brink of a revelation. "Are you telling me...that dead elves don't decompose?"

Círdan nodded, once. "The bodies of elves, unlike those of men or dwarves, do not decay. We are, to use your words, free from the ravages of time. From all ravages of time, regardless of whether we are living or not."

Ereinion nodded slowly, absorbing this new information. "So what happened to me?

A few hours after midnight, exhaustion and pain overtook the shipwright and his young companion, and both slipped into an uneasy doze. After a while Círdan dimly realised that Elrond was saying his name and he forced his eyes open to see what the matter was.

"Círdan, look at his face," Elrond said, looking at the King. Círdan leant forward and noticed with some shock that the horrific burns were...gone. Ereinion's face was whole, his skin clear and unmarred, and it looked for all the world like he was just sleeping.

Elrond looked at the King's newly-healed face in a state of similar confusion, until a flash of light caught his eye. He glanced at Ereinion's chest to see a silver chain coiled neatly on top of the sheet, the perfectly formed teardrop pearl pendant sitting on top of the chain. His hand flew to his throat, where the necklace should have been residing, but his skin was bare.

"Did you take it off?" Círdan asked. Elrond shook his head. He picked the necklace up and slipped it back over his head, and then reached a shaky hand forward to touch the new skin on Ereinion's face.

"It's...real," he breathed. "It's- it isn't a glamour. It's as if, as if his face wasn't burnt at all."

He looked up at the shipwright, his hand unconsciously moving to his neck to toy with the pendant. "Do you think Nienna did this?"

"Yes. If not her, then one of the others. But I'd be willing to bet it was her. You have that pearl for a reason."

Elrond's mind was swirling with too many thoughts and emotions for any to be singled out, and all he could do was cover his face with his hands and try to breathe deeply.

"What are we going to do?" the half-elf asked again when he had himself under some semblance of control.

"There is something," Círdan replied. "I didn't mention it before because of his face, but now..."

"What?"

"It is customary to make memorial displays in the Hall of Kings for our fallen leaders. What if, instead of a memorial, we have a glass-topped coffin made and place his body there instead?"

"A glass-topped coffin?" Elrond repeated. "Like in
Fanuilos?"

Círdan smiled. "That was a rather fitting comparison to draw, given the circumstances."

The memory of the human folk tale drifted to the front of his mind and Ereinion couldn't help but return the smile. Círdan continued.

"Yes," Círdan replied simply. "Like Fanuilos."

Elrond frowned. "But that couldn't work. He would-"

The half-elf paused as a breeze swept through the tent, bringing with it the scent of...smoke and dirt and blood, but it was nowhere near the stench that he would have expected from a battlefield. For the first time Elrond realised what it was that he
didn't smell.

Decay.

He calculated the amount of dead bodies there had been on the field, how many had been humans and how many had been elves and subtracted the amount that had already been buried or burnt. He then compared that number to the relatively faint scent of decay that he could detect. It did not match. Moreover, the air in the tent didn't match. He could smell the blood and sweat on his own body as well as that on Círdan's, but Ereinion's body didn't smell like anything. Sitting in front of it as he was, the stench of death and decay should have been immediately noticeable, and, for that matter, overpowering. He looked up at Círdan, his thoughts written on his face like words on parchment.

"No indeed, he would not."

"Elves don't decay," Elrond said, mostly to himself. Everything clicked into place. "We don't bury our dead because there's no point. Our bodies don't break down and therefore do not nourish the soil, and if every elf who had ever died on a battlefield was buried..."

"We would have run out of land by now," Círdan finished for him. "And the Belegaer would be overrun with displaced dead from Beleriand."

"Why doesn't anyone know this?" Elrond asked. A second later, his mind answered the question for him and he shook his head. "Stupid question. Necromancy. The last thing we need is for every person and creature to know that elven bodies can be kept indefinitely. They would start specifically acquiring them."

"Yes."

Elrond took a breath and looked back down at Ereinion's peaceful face. He reached out and brushed his hand over the soft ebony hair. "I don't know if having him there, visible, will make it any easier, but..." he raised his head to meet the shipwright's eyes, "I would like that. I'd like to know that I can go and see him sometimes, even if I can't
see him. I suppose that's very human of me."

"Not at all," Círdan replied. "I feel the same. Very well, I will make the arrangements. And you, young one, need to go and sleep in your cot under some furs, not sitting here on the cold hard ground. I will keep vigil."

"You need to sleep also," Elrond protested. "I am not the only one who lost him."

Círdan smiled, sadly. "I have lost my son, yes, but you have lost a part of yourself. I know you're at your limit, Elrond. It's alright, I will manage a little longer. Go."

The half-elf hesitated a moment, and then nodded. Círdan stood and embraced him, and with one last look at the body of the elf he loved, Elrond left the tent.


"Otaro? Are you still with me?"

Círdan took a deep breath and roused himself from reverie, having fallen silent after voicing Elrond's wish to be able to visit the King's body. "I was just remembering." He sighed. "So we brought you home, and put you in the Hall of Kings. The coffin was a gift from the dwarves that had fought with us, as thanks and acknowledgement of the hand we played in defeating the enemy. A few days before you arrived here, your body...disappeared. There was no sign of forced entry on the coffin, nothing to suggest foul play. It was just gone. Trying to figure out what happened kept me up at night until I found you on the beach, and then everything slipped into place. So there you have it. We kept your body, and the Valar took it to give back to you."

Ereinion nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "You said that Sauron had been defeated. So he's still gone, even though the Ring was not destroyed?"

Círdan glanced at the reborn elf in surprise, who held up the book he had been reading.

"Ah. No, it was not. Isildur kept it until it abandoned him early in the Second Age. It has neither been seen nor heard from again. At the moment, at least, all is well. But for how long, I cannot say."

"Do you think that's why they were so willing to send me back, and why it happened so fast? Because Sauron will return and Arda will need me?"

"I don't know, hâlpen. Maybe that was part of it."

Círdan was curious as to how Ereinion's reincarnation had come about, but he took in the look on his foster son's face and decided that was a question for another day. "Well, it's time for dinner, I think. What say you?"

"Sure," Ereinion replied, he yawned as he followed Círdan into the kitchen, taking his book with him. Círdan smiled.

"Good thing Erestor wrote an entire saga of Second Age Histories," he said.

"Yes," Ereinion agreed with a short laugh. "I'll be caught up and ready to go back out into the real world in no time."
Far Longer Than Forever 3

I'M ALIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE.

Also, wow, it's been like 18 months since I updated this. I'm actually really glad because my combined headcanon is virtually unrecognisable from the thing it was back then. But my gosh. I've been writing this chapter on and off for so long that it feels really odd to have finally finished it.

Shout-out to the Desolation of Smaug for making glamour canon XD This chapter's title is a line from the song Dela by Johnny Clegg and Savuka. You can listen here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=IqEiJ-…

Elrond's teardrop pearl pendant is not an arbitrary thing. It has quite a bit of significance in my headcanon but this chapter was already long enough without boring you with explanations of THAT as well. There will an explanation ficlet for that at some point in the future.

Ethuil = April, Iavas = September. More or less. Technically Ethuil and Iavas are seasons (Spring and Late Summer/Early Autumn, respectively), but you get the drift. Also I knowwww that I originally said we'd check back in with Elrond in this chapter but then I changed my mind. So, the next one. I promise. If the bit about Ereinion's scars seems familiar, that's because it is. I took it out of chapter 2 and put it here, because I think fits better here.

The stuff about elven funerary rituals and the reasons for them is something that developed purely because I needed an explanation for the preservation of Ereinion's body that didn't involve mummification (what even was I thinking with that) or rely on the suspension of belief required for Ereinion to have been preserved on Arda the way Miriel was in Valinor. It's not a canon thing or even a fanon thing, just something that occurred to me that I thought would make a really good explanation.

First chapter
Next chapter

Tirith, Eathiriel and Anestariel's name are mine, everyone else belongs to Tolkien.

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I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me ;P

Hello again! I am, surprisingly, alive. I know, what a shock.

I apologise for the fact that I have been mostly absent from dA for the last two years. The reason for that is that last year I was living on-campus at uni which kind of just unequivocally sucked, and led to me spending the whole year watching Game of Thrones and...not doing much else. Thankfully that year is well and truly over, and everything that was bothering me then is all good now.

As for this year, I meant to come back to dA properly but then I discovered this really cool corner of YouTube called BookTube, where people make videos about books that they have read (!!!) and I really fell in love with it so I decided to make a channel there. So that means that I have been doing a lot of reading and not much else XD For those of you who are interested, this is my channel: youtube.com/thingslucyreads

So, again, I'm sorry for being away so long. I'll try and get through all of my messages by the end of this year, and next year it will be business as usual. I need to learn to balance reading and writing. Last year I feel like I wrote a lot but didn't read much, and this year I've read a lot but haven't written anything. Except like one chapter of FLTF. Which is a pathetic effort, really. And I call myself a writer, gosh.

I know you're all reading this to hear about the NIF travelling family thing, so the good news is that I have them, they are sitting safely on my shelf, reminding me I need to do the thing. The bad news is that thanks to a mixture of crazy work schedules, two insterstate holidays in three months, the closure of one of my town's major tourist attractions and let's face it, good old procrastination, I haven't actually done anything with them yet. The second of those interstate holidays is coming up in a week and a half, and I will be returning in the second week of November, at which point I PROMISE I will take them out and take the photos so that they can be sent on to the next person. I will endeavour to have them back on their way by the end of November, and I'm so sorry that it's taken so long. I know I'm holding everything up, but the end of November will give me ample time to make contingency plans since my first and best idea is now not an option.

What's killing me is that if I'd been really organised and took them out as soon as I got them I could have taken them to Sydney with my last month and then sent them on while I was there, which would have been the quickest and cheapest option since Turko lives in/near Sydney. But no matter. These things happen. The photos that I posted of them on twitter will be up on here very soon.

Also while I was in Sydney I went to see Hugo Weaving in the Scottish Play and he is so much more magnificent in person than you can ever imagine and it was the best thing ever :DDDDD I chickened out of asking someone at the theatre if it was possible to meet him because I was just feeling overwhelmed from the performance and wanted to process it first without also being within, like, touching distance of him. It's hard to explain. But we were in the same room. (Theoretically I could have run down onto the stage and jumped on him. I didn't but, you know, I could have). So it was exciting nonetheless. God he is amazing.

That's all I've got for the minute. You'll see me popping back up as I make my way through my inbox :)

It's good to be back xx
Lucy

PS: I can't leave without mentioning THE AWESOME PROMO PICS OF ELROND FROM BOFA OMGGGGG THIS IS LITERALLY ALL I'VE EVER WANTED AND I'M SO EXCITED. IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THEM YET YOU SHOULD GOOGLE THEM OR SOMETHING BECAUSE YES.
  • Mood: Cheerful
  • Listening to: Burn - Ellie Goulding
  • Reading: Sisters Red - Jackson Pearce
  • Watching: Wonderfalls
Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: sexual themes)
Fandom: The Silmarillion
Pairing: Elrond/Gil-Galad (Obviously. Do I ever write anything else...?)
Summary: Early Spring, Second Age 42. The first spark of hope in the ocean of darkness that is Elrond's life, and one night that will foreshadow his entire future.

Someone from the NIF left a comment on a earlier, now-deleted version of 'Night' and said that it was interesting that Elrond and Ereinion didn't enter into a relationship immediately after the first time they slept together. I can't remember now who it was and I've lost the comment, but whoever it was, here is the explanation of why that is.

There is some dissention over whether 50 or 100 is the proper age of majority, so in my headcanon I have both. 50 is the age of legal consent (like 16), but young elves are not considered proper adults until they are 100, which is equivalent to the age of 18 or 21.


<><><><><>

32 Echuir

"So, you still haven't told me what you want for your begetting day, and considering that it's tomorrow you're making it very hard for me," Ereinion said, moving his second pawn forward two spaces. It had been entirely too long since he and Elrond had last played chess, and so when they realised they both had a three-hour break over lunchtime the chance to rectify their chesslessness had been eagerly seized.

Elrond shook his head with a slight smile. "I don't want anything."

"It's your centenary, Elrond. I'm not going to let you get away with that again. There must be something you want."

Elrond's grey eyes flicked up to the King's face and back down to the board, and his lips quirked up a little further at the edges. "Nothing you can give me."

The words were spoken lightly, in jest, and Elrond had not intended them to have a deeper meaning but once they were spoken both elves knew they did. Ereinion felt like someone had stabbed him somewhere deep in his soul, despite the playful and not entirely serious way the words had been delivered. He knew what the half-elf had unintentionally been referring to.

The ability to have a properly functional relationship with someone. The ability to live a properly functional life.

Normality.

The half-elf was right, that wasn't something that Ereinion could give to him, no matter how much the King wished he could. Ereinion watched as Elrond surveyed the board, figuring out his strategy. After a moment Elrond made his move, and Ereinion put an end to his staring and his train of thought. Now was not the time to dwell on subjects like that.

They played almost three games of chess. The first game was the longest and was very much a game of planning; Elrond and Ereinion each picked a strategy and stuck to it, altering it only when key pieces were knocked out. Elrond won that game, getting a checkmate by the skin of his teeth, with four pieces left to Ereinion's three.

The second game did not last quite as long and was more reminiscent of their usual the-quick-and-the-dead style of playing, where they both set out to thoroughly decimate the other, changing strategy and switching tactics every move until Elrond finally had to surrender his king with only one pawn left to defend it against Ereinion's remaining hat trick of queen-bishop-rook.

By the third game, Elrond had moved from the armchair across the table to the seat next to Ereinion on the sofa. They rotated the board ninety degrees and began playing their third game in an almost lazy way, neither one much concerned with winning again now that the scores sat at one-all. That was, until Elrond made a move that Ereinion was sure was illegal. Elrond insisted it was perfectly legal. Ereinion refused to believe him so they went in search of the rulebook that was usually kept on the shelf with the board and the pieces but was inexplicably no longer there.

"I'm sure it was there just then when we got the board down!" Ereinion exclaimed, glaring at the shelf as if that would make it give up the secret of the rulebook's whereabouts. It didn't. He turned to Elrond. "Can you remember if it was there when we got the board?"

Elrond wracked his brain and found nothing. He shrugged and shook his head. "I honestly don't. It has to be here somewhere, though, we just have to look."

They each took one end of the wall of bookshelves and methodically searched each shelf for the elusive manual. After a while they met again in the middle, their search unfruitful.

"I think it's time to give it up for lost," Ereinion said. "I still think that move was illegal."

"It wasn't, I swear!" Elrond defended, unable to keep from grinning at the King.

Ereinion narrowed one eye and pretended to scrutinise the half-elf. "Alright," he conceded. "I'll let you off, just this once. Shall we call it a draw?"

"Alright," Elrond replied, a little absent-mindedly as he paused by the window on the way back to the chairs in front of the fire. Down in the courtyard there was a couple laughing and kissing under a tree and Elrond watched them for a few moments, his mind somewhere far away. Ereinion turned when he noticed that Elrond had stopped. He moved back over to the shorter elf and lightly put his arm around Elrond's shoulders, wondering what the half-elf was thinking. Ereinion was unsure if the gesture would be welcomed, but was heartened when, instead of automatically shrugging his arm off, Elrond leant into him instead. Ereinion tightened the partial embrace.

They stood there quietly for a few moments, Ereinion idly stroking Elrond's hair with the back of his knuckles and wondering at the half-elf's thoughts, while Elrond continued to stare unseeingly at the couple on the lawn. He was lost in reverie, only half-aware of his thoughts, when all of sudden he was suddenly struck with an odd feeling. It was like he was standing on a cliff and feeling the drop in temperature and slight change of the wind that signalled the approach of a big storm, as if something was about to-

He sucked in a breath. "Do that again!"

Ereinion was startled out of his own reverie. "What?"

"That! Do that again."

Ereinion hadn't been paying much attention to what he was doing so was not quite sure as to what exactly Elrond was referring, but he resumed his ministrations, concentrating on the same section of hair he had been paying attention to before.

Elrond closed his eyes, waiting. Please, please...

One caress ended and another began, and once again the knuckle of Ereinion's index finger accidentally brushed the tip of Elrond's ear.

Yes.

There it was.

"That..."

Ereinion was still not quite sure what was going on, but he had noticed the contact that time and repeated it. "That?"

Elrond let out a deep breath. "That."

He abruptly spun around to face the King, his eyes brighter than usual.

"What's going on?" Ereinion asked. "Are you alright?"

Elrond didn't answer. His grey eyes were rapidly scanning the taller elf's face. There was a look in his eyes as if he was on the cusp of a revelation.

Ereinion raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

Elrond put his hands on either side of Ereinion's jaw. "An experiment," he breathed. He glanced from Ereinion's eyes to his lips and back again, and then stood up on tiptoe and kissed him slowly, tentatively. Ereinion brought his hands up to rest on Elrond's waist and carefully kissed back.

"Are you alright?" Ereinion whispered again when they drew apart.

Elrond swallowed and nodded. "I think so."

"You sure?"

Elrond nodded again.

"What's going on?"

Elrond shook his head slightly. "I told you, an experiment."

The King was still somewhat perplexed at this sudden turn of events, but he didn't think he would get much of an explanation out of his friend.

"Ereinion?"

Elrond's voice brought him back to the present. "Yes?"

"...Can I kiss you again?"

Ereinion cast his eyes over Elrond's face. He seemed to be fine, and Ereinion thought there was some merit to the fact that it was Elrond who had started this in the first place. "As many times as you like."

The half-elf glanced up and caught the King's gaze, holding it for a second that lasted minutes. And then they were kissing again, still slowly but getting more into it as they grew accustomed to each other. Ereinion crossed his hands over Elrond's back and pulled him close as he felt Elrond's hands slide into his hair, the half-elf's long fingers entangling themselves up under the cluster of braids as if they did it every day. The King slowly walked Elrond backward until the shorter elf's back was resting against the flat side of the pentagonal-shaped pillar that filled the corner of the study.

They had separated slightly in the journey, and Elrond wasted no time in grabbing the front of Ereinion's tunic and pulling him close again. It felt like Ereinion's hands were everywhere on his body and the King's presence was overwhelming Elrond's every sense. He usually could not abide physical contact with other people because being touched made him feel like he was burning, but this time was different. It was finally the good kind of fire.

Elrond had only ever kissed two other people in his life and was perhaps lacking a little in finesse, but Ereinion was hardly an expert himself and was not particularly inclined to judge at that very moment. He could feel his blood rushing downwards and culminating between his thighs. Their kissing drew to a stop for a moment and Ereinion took the opportunity to grasp Elrond about the waist and shift him up a little against the pillar so that their hips were more or less level, then slid his hands down to the half-elf's thighs and lifted them so that Elrond's legs were around the King's waist. Elrond was watching Ereinion from under partially-lidded grey eyes that shone almost silver, his bottom lip held lightly between his teeth as he caught his breath.

Ereinion grinned at him and slid his right hand behind Elrond's head as he brought their lips together again. Elrond snaked his hands around to Ereinion's backside, and used his hold on it to pull Ereinion's hips forward. The movement caused the tiniest contact between their arousals and Ereinion made a sound in the back of his throat as his left hand began to feel its way under Elrond's many layers of clothing.

"How many layers does this robe have?" Ereinion muttered around kisses. Elrond laughed breathlessly.

"Four. And I have leggings on underneath too."

"Mm, found those," murmured Ereinion when his questing fingers found leather lacings. He kissed along Elrond's jaw as he made short work of those and slipped his hand inside, his fingers cold against Elrond's heated flesh. Elrond's toes curled inside his boots when the King's hand grasped him and he inhaled sharply, involuntarily tightening his hold on Ereinion's posterior as a bolt of pleasure rocked through him. Ereinion's lips were on the underside of Elrond's jaw now, teasing the sensitive skin only lightly - Ereinion was being careful not to leave any visible marks - and the half-elf let his head fall back against the pillar behind him as the sensations washed over him.

Ereinion's right hand was still entangled in Elrond's braids, and his left was caressing Elrond's arousal maddeningly slowly. Elrond bucked his hips, trying to make him go faster, harder- anything. Ereinion straightened up, bringing their faces close until their lips were barely an inch apart, but didn't let them touch. He obliged Elrond's silent pleas and altered his rhythm. Elrond stifled a moan at the changed sensations. Ereinion teased him with a fleeting kiss, and repeated the new manoeuvre, but gripped a little tighter, went a little faster. Elrond moaned properly that time, and Ereinion kissed him properly in return.

After a moment Elrond pulled slightly away from the kiss and tried to regain some of his composure. "Mmh. Ereinion."

The King made a noncommittal sound and went back to terrorising Elrond's jaw. The half-elf's hips bucked again, this time of their own accord, and he let out a shuddering breath.

"Ereinion, wait, wait."

The taller elf stilled in his movements and looked back at Elrond's face. "What? What is it?"

Elrond just shook his head, not quite able to answer. He rested his forehead on Ereinion's shoulder, his eyes closed as he tried to get his breathing back under control.

"Is something the matter?"

"No," Elrond replied without hesitation. "No."

He lifted his head and looked at Ereinion, a smile playing around his lips. He glanced meaningfully down to his crotch, where the King's left hand was still grasping his erection, and back up. Ereinion followed the direction of his gaze, but didn't know what he was supposed to be looking at. But Elrond was smiling and so he couldn't help but to smile back.

"What is it?"

Elrond swallowed, still breathing hard, and attempted to organise the words he wanted to say. They eluded him and so he once again glanced down and back up again, looking at Ereinion with eyes imploring him to understand.

Ereinion looked at him, uncomprehending. Elrond tried again.

"I'm-"

That was as far as he got before Ereinion's eyes suddenly widened and he looked down to where his hand was hidden beneath the many layers of clothing, still holding-

Oh.

He closed the absolute last of the distance between them and caught the half-elf up in a fierce kiss.

"You-"

"Mm-hmm," Elrond gasped, hands fisting in the back of Ereinion's tunic as the King resumed his ministrations. He laughed breathlessly, relieved, in between kisses. "Maybe...what I want is...is something you can...give me...after all."

"Mm, and I'm going to give it to you good," Ereinion promised. He had just captured Elrond's mouth once more in a kiss, when...

...there was a knock on the door.

The two elves hastily broke the kiss, exchanging a glance and then looking towards the door which was, thankfully, closed and locked. They both silently thought that maybe if they didn't answer, whoever it was would go away.

But instead the knock came again, and Ereinion's page called his name from the other side of the door. "Your Majesty!"

Ereinion growled. "What!" he snapped back.

"The dwarven emissaries from Casarrondo have arrived, sire. They are demanding your presence."

Ereinion sighed in exasperation. "Right now?"

"Yes, Your Grace," Harren replied. "They are most insistent. You know how dwarves are," he added.

"Very well. Give me a moment."

Ereinion exhaled through his nose and rested his forehead against Elrond's. The half-elf was biting back a smile, more amused than anything else by the interruption. "Go," he said to the King.

"I'm sorry," Ereinion whispered.

"It's fine, I promise."

"Are you sure?"

Elrond nodded. He cleared his throat, gently but firmly pushing the King away and freeing himself from Ereinion's every grip. He turned away from the King, chuckling quietly to himself as he straightened his clothes.

"Why are you laughing?" Ereinion asked, smoothing the wrinkles out of his tunic. He kept his voice low so that Harren wouldn't hear them from outside.

Elrond shook his head as he turned back to face the taller elf. "I'm just remembering that one time I walked in on you and Gildor in here."

Before he could add anything else, Ereinion’s face had creased into an apologetic expression. "I really am sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it, honestly, it's alright." He reached up and straightened the King's collar. "There. Your hair's still fine," he added after a quick look to either side.

"Yours isn't," Ereinion murmured. He hadn't been as careful when it came to maintaining hairstyles as Elrond had been, and the braid on the right side of the shorter elf's face was unravelling from the middle. He lightly ran his right index finger over the carnage.

"I'll fix it. You better go, you don't want to keep King Durin's representatives waiting."

Ereinion nodded. "I probably won't see you tonight, now that the dwarves are here early, but I definitely will tomorrow."

"You better!"

The King grinned. "I wouldn't miss it for anything. Are you sure you're alright?"

Elrond's smile was small, but it still could have eclipsed the sun. "I am...fantastic," he said, and meant it. He nudged Ereinion in the direction of the door. "Go on."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Ereinion promised, and when Elrond nodded in reply, left his study carefully, opening the door in such a way that the half-elf would not been seen from the hallway.

Elrond stepped back to lean against the pillar and exhaled, feeling hopeful for the first time in years. He wasn't ruined. He was not so naïve as to believe himself completely healed, but it was a start.

It was a start.

He pressed a hand against his heart, which was still hammering, and took deep breaths to regain his composure. When he had himself back under control, he endeavoured to repair his braid using the partial reflection he could see in the glass door of the cabinet to his left. After a few tries he managed to re-do it so it was neat and more or less level with the one on the other side. He adjusted his high collar and made sure his robes were hanging properly, then crossed to the door of Ereinion's study and cracked it open, checking that there was no one around to see him leaving.  There wasn't, so he latched the door and shut it behind him, and then headed back to the library.

<><><><><>

33 Echuir

Elrond yawned as he followed the King into his rooms. Ereinion had thrown a spectacular party for Elrond's centenary, and it had only just begun to wind down. Ereinion had invited Elrond back to his rooms for a quiet nightcap, as a way to recover from the noise and excitement of the feast. Elrond was absolutely exhausted but he was determined to fight sleep off for a little while yet, and so had acquiesced.

Ordinarily they would have gone to Elrond's rooms, but the half-elf's living quarters were part of a two-person apartment that was currently also housing Celebrían. Ereinion was intending to convert one of the guest suites into a separate apartment specifically for the half-elf, but that project was still quite firmly in the planning stage. It did not feel quite right to prolong the night by spending a few moments alone when Elrond's best friend was sleeping - or rather, knowing Celebrían, not sleeping - in the next room. Ereinion's rooms afforded more privacy, and had a better view. There was no other choice, really.

Ereinion poured them both a glass of wine and carried the two goblets to the pile of pillows in front of the fire, where Elrond was sitting. The younger elf was more than a little tipsy and was surprised that his legs had consented to carry him along for this long. He'd expected them to collapse with exhaustion during the climb up the stairs, truth be told. He held his hands out to the fire to warm them. It was more than halfway into Echuir, the stirring, but the weather had been unseasonably cool these last few days and the palace's many fireplaces had been called upon to sustain their merry glowing for a little while longer.

Ereinion handed one of the glasses to the half-elf and then lay down on the pillows, propping himself up on an elbow so he could drink his wine.

"Did you have a good night?"

Elrond grinned and nodded. "I did. It was marvellous."

Ereinion smiled and placed his wine to the side so he could lay flat on his back. He folded his hands behind his head. "Good. I couldn't let such an important milestone pass by unnoticed."

Elrond laughed and reached over to set his wine next to Ereinion's own glass, and then lowered himself down so he was lying with his head on the King's chest, incited to do so by his alcohol-lowered inhibitions and the fact that Ereinion was about the only person he could lie like this with.

"Well I think it's safe to say that everyone in Middle Earth noticed."

"As well they should!" the King exclaimed, wrapping an arm around Elrond's shoulders. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," he added quietly. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile like that before."

"I don't think I ever have smiled like that before," the half-elf replied honestly.

The implications of that statement suddenly reminded Ereinion of something that he'd been meaning to ask Elrond all night. "Speaking of," He began, "what happened yesterday in my study? What was that all about?"

Elrond didn't answer straight away. He shifted to lean over the King. He reached for his wine and took a sip before answering, but instead of speaking, he reached up and trailed a finger around the outer curve of Ereinion's ear.

"What do you feel when I do this?" he asked, repeating the caress.

Ereinion swallowed, fighting to keep his thoughts coherent against the gentle but insistent wave of pleasure that swept over him. "Umm..."

Fortunately Elrond hadn't been seeking a vocal answer. He took his hand away and when the King opened his eyes and looked at him quizzically, Elrond just smiled.

"That's what I felt." He took a deep breath. "I...it has never happened before."

The King's lips formed a silent 'o' of understanding. One of his eyebrows rose slightly. "Never...?"

Elrond shook his head. "Not since...before I came to Lindon," he explained, evading the real reason, but knowing Ereinion would know what he meant. "I'm sorry if my actions were too forward. I wasn't really thinking."

The taller elf instantly shook his head. "No, no they weren't. I understand." And had my own selfish reasons for letting that happen, he added silently.

The half-elf's smile returned. "Well, good."

He laid his head back down on Ereinion's chest and they remained there for a few moments, both content to watch the fire and enjoy the quiet comfort of the other's presence. After a while Elrond leaned over Ereinion again. "So," he began, his tone slightly too nonchalant, "I might have finally decided what I want from you for my centenary."

"Oh?" Ereinion quirked an eyebrow. "And what might that be?"

Elrond cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. The wine, instead of giving him courage, had just made his mouth dry. He swallowed and took the plunge.

"To finish what we started yesterday."

Ereinion bit his lip in hesitation. Elrond, when he saw it, immediately pushed away from Ereinion's chest and sat up, heart dropping with a painful jerk. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No, wait," the taller elf interrupted, realising what Elrond must be thinking. He followed Elrond into a sitting position. "It isn't that. I'm just worried about the consequences." As soon as the words left his mouth he knew they'd just make it worse. "Wait-! Let me explain."

Elrond was looking at him with a guarded expression, but allowed the King his request. Ereinion took a deep breath and rounded up the words he needed. "It isn't that I don't want to. I do. It's just that-" he licked his lips and picked at a feather that was poking through one of the pillow covers. "I'm the King. My life...isn't my own. This can't become a far-reaching relationship. There are certain things that I can't do the way I want, because they might need to be done a different way later, for the good of the realm."

He looked at Elrond and waited for his reaction.

Elrond's fears were calmed by Ereinion's words, and his heart resumed its normal rhythm. Everything was alright; Ereinion had just misunderstood the request. Elrond shook his head with a slight smile. "I'm not asking for your life. Or a relationship. I don't want half of the kingdom and a crown and throne of my own. That's not what I meant. You're the only person I trust enough to do this with. The only person I have ever been able to do this with. I-I'm not asking for your heart, or your hand. I am asking for tonight." He had unconsciously shifted closer to the King as he spoke, and now they were barely a hands-width apart. "That's all I want. Just tonight."

Ereinion reached a hand out to cup Elrond's smooth, fire-warmed cheek. He was so beautiful, all long dark hair and big grey eyes, so heartbreakingly beautiful, and Ereinion wasn't strong enough to resist any more. He could tell himself that he was only doing this because Elrond wanted it, but that would be a lie. Ereinion had wanted this ever since he first laid eyes on the half-elf, but knowledge of Elrond's past made him keep a respectful distance and hold his impulses firmly in check.

But now it was finally a possibility. The one obstacle that had kept Elrond isolated from this kind of relationship was gone, and Elrond wanted this...

Ereinion's thoughts scattered to the wind when he realised that there was no longer any space between his lips and Elrond's. Neither was sure which one of them had started it, but it did not matter. Within moments they were partially undressed and had moved to Ereinion's large feather bed; a few moments more and the covers had been thrown back, all remaining clothing torn off and discarded on the floor.

Any lingering anxieties Elrond had were smoothed by the King's soft touch, the warmth of his body warming Elrond's in return. The unfamiliar but welcome sensations that had dictated his actions in the King's study the previous day overtook him once more, and once his body responded as it should, he forgot that there had ever been anything wrong with him.

Every point of contact sent sparks through their systems: shots of pleasure as fingers trailed along arms and flanks and backs, and then dipped lower, delicious heat where Elrond had wrapped one leg around the King's hips as they slid together. Each kiss seared their lips, the blood rushing through their bodies in tandem. Ereinion wasn't sure if the sounds he heard were Elrond's moans or his own heartbeat, pounding in his ears. The only distance between them came when Ereinion reached a shaky hand up to the nightstand to grasp one of the vials of oil that always resided there, and once that was in hand their embrace re-formed, lips seeking each other with little need for their owners' influence.

If each touch of Ereinion's fingers on Elrond's skin created sparks, then his next ministrations were fireworks, loud and hot and oh so bright. It hurt, but not as much as he expected and a moment later he had forgotten, seeing sparks expand into colourful showers of light on the back of his eyelids. He arched up involuntarily as pleasure rocketed through him. The sound that accompanied it might have been the explosion of firepower or it might have been his own vocalisation; he didn't know and frankly he didn't care.

Ereinion worked quickly but thoroughly, and as soon as he saw the first hint of discomfort cross Elrond's face, he crooked his finger up, his aim true, and watched as the half-elf's mind went totally blank with the sensation. The King could almost see the coherent thoughts draining out of Elrond's ears. He stroked again, harder, and Elrond arched underneath him, a gasp ripping free from his lungs. Ereinion licked his lips and grinned to himself, and kept the flame kindled as he finished his preparations, and then covered the shorter elf's body with his own, reaching up with his other hand to brush Elrond's damp fringe away from his forehead.

The trails of light from the last firework dissipated, and Elrond opened his eyes to find Ereinion over him. The King kissed him again, whispered relax, and then the fireworks were back.

Only this time the sparks weren't exploding around them: the two lovers were the sparks. There were no thoughts, or words, or identities. There was only feeling and movement and the hot undertow of passion, swirling around their bodies and pulling insistently. They clutched tightly to one another, moving as one, mouths joined together as surely as their bodies were. The silken waves broke and broke and broke, the pleasure building up until it was nigh unbearable. The two elves pressed closer to each other as they drew ever nearer to the edge, until a final mighty wave of sensation crashed over them and dragged them under.

<>

What might have been one minute or one year or one century later, Elrond and Ereinion stirred, returning to consciousness together, just as they had left it. Ereinion woke faster than Elrond, so he took the opportunity to quickly disappear into the bathroom in search of a washcloth. He cleaned them both up as much as possible and then simply turned and lobbed the cloth back into the bathroom from where he stood. It landed on the tiled floor with a damp splat. Ereinion slid back between the sheets and gathered Elrond's sleepy form in his arms, rolling them both over so that the half-elf's head was pillowed on his chest in an imitation of their earlier position in front of the fire.

The sound of the impact of the washcloth on the tiled bathroom floor drew Elrond further out of his slumber and he opened his eyes to find himself safely ensconced in Ereinion's arms once again, with the soft bedcovers drawn over him. He could still feel the after-effects of their coupling drifting around him like smoke from a blown-out candle. He exhaled slowly and tilted his head up to look at Ereinion's face.

"Is it always like that?"

Ereinion laughed once, not without humour. "No. No, it isn't usually that intense." He met Elrond's stormy grey eyes. "Not in my experience, anyway."

Elrond smiled, unable to keep from feeling strangely pleased with himself, and put his head back on the King's chest.

"Thank you," he murmured.

"My pleasure," Ereinion replied, lips twisting into a smile.

"Mm-mm. Ours," Elrond corrected.

Ereinion chuckled softly. "Ours," he agreed. He carded his fingers through the remains of Elrond's ornate hairstyle, unravelling the last of the braids and easing out the tangles. After a while his ministrations ceased to be helpful and started to spread static, and so he settled for wrapping his arms back around Elrond's shoulders.

"Do you want me to go?" the half-elf whispered after a moment, wondering if the cessation was an unspoken signal. His voice was soft and thick with impending sleep.

The taller elf shook his head and tightened his hold. Leaving was the last thing he wanted Elrond to do. Ever.

"No, stay. Go to sleep."

He pressed a kiss to Elrond's temple and felt the younger elf shift slightly, settling into a more comfortable position.

"Happy begetting day," Ereinion murmured as Elrond's breath evened out and he was lost to the realm of dreams.

Sleep did not come so easily for Ereinion, who could not help but think on what Elrond had said earlier about not wanting a relationship. Elrond had all but promised that he wouldn't fall in love with Ereinion after this one night together, and Ereinion ruefully considered that maybe he was the one who should have made that promise.

'This can't become a far-reaching relationship', he had said. 'There are certain things that I can't do the way I want.' And oh, how I want.

You said you weren't asking for my heart, Ereinion thought. But you do not need to. It is already yours.

If only you will take it.
2.100 One Hundred
Edited! A few changes, not big, but needed. The sequel it's still on its way and will be called Winter.

This is eventually going to be a part of my Elrond story, but considering that it's nearly fifty years in and nearly everything that happens before it is angst angst and more angst, I decided to write it now XD

(Burning-Nightingale Libby...I hope the smut in this lives up to the quality of its predecessor. I must admit that I felt quite pressured while writing this because of what you said XD)

Casarrondo is the Noldorin name for Khazad-dûm.
(source: Tolkien Gateway.)

Harren is mine, everyone else is Tolkien's.
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I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me ;P

Hello again! I am, surprisingly, alive. I know, what a shock.

I apologise for the fact that I have been mostly absent from dA for the last two years. The reason for that is that last year I was living on-campus at uni which kind of just unequivocally sucked, and led to me spending the whole year watching Game of Thrones and...not doing much else. Thankfully that year is well and truly over, and everything that was bothering me then is all good now.

As for this year, I meant to come back to dA properly but then I discovered this really cool corner of YouTube called BookTube, where people make videos about books that they have read (!!!) and I really fell in love with it so I decided to make a channel there. So that means that I have been doing a lot of reading and not much else XD For those of you who are interested, this is my channel: youtube.com/thingslucyreads

So, again, I'm sorry for being away so long. I'll try and get through all of my messages by the end of this year, and next year it will be business as usual. I need to learn to balance reading and writing. Last year I feel like I wrote a lot but didn't read much, and this year I've read a lot but haven't written anything. Except like one chapter of FLTF. Which is a pathetic effort, really. And I call myself a writer, gosh.

I know you're all reading this to hear about the NIF travelling family thing, so the good news is that I have them, they are sitting safely on my shelf, reminding me I need to do the thing. The bad news is that thanks to a mixture of crazy work schedules, two insterstate holidays in three months, the closure of one of my town's major tourist attractions and let's face it, good old procrastination, I haven't actually done anything with them yet. The second of those interstate holidays is coming up in a week and a half, and I will be returning in the second week of November, at which point I PROMISE I will take them out and take the photos so that they can be sent on to the next person. I will endeavour to have them back on their way by the end of November, and I'm so sorry that it's taken so long. I know I'm holding everything up, but the end of November will give me ample time to make contingency plans since my first and best idea is now not an option.

What's killing me is that if I'd been really organised and took them out as soon as I got them I could have taken them to Sydney with my last month and then sent them on while I was there, which would have been the quickest and cheapest option since Turko lives in/near Sydney. But no matter. These things happen. The photos that I posted of them on twitter will be up on here very soon.

Also while I was in Sydney I went to see Hugo Weaving in the Scottish Play and he is so much more magnificent in person than you can ever imagine and it was the best thing ever :DDDDD I chickened out of asking someone at the theatre if it was possible to meet him because I was just feeling overwhelmed from the performance and wanted to process it first without also being within, like, touching distance of him. It's hard to explain. But we were in the same room. (Theoretically I could have run down onto the stage and jumped on him. I didn't but, you know, I could have). So it was exciting nonetheless. God he is amazing.

That's all I've got for the minute. You'll see me popping back up as I make my way through my inbox :)

It's good to be back xx
Lucy

PS: I can't leave without mentioning THE AWESOME PROMO PICS OF ELROND FROM BOFA OMGGGGG THIS IS LITERALLY ALL I'VE EVER WANTED AND I'M SO EXCITED. IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THEM YET YOU SHOULD GOOGLE THEM OR SOMETHING BECAUSE YES.
  • Mood: Cheerful
  • Listening to: Burn - Ellie Goulding
  • Reading: Sisters Red - Jackson Pearce
  • Watching: Wonderfalls

deviantID

iDance
Luce
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Australia
<><><>

Queer femme, 21 years old.

Tolkien and Sherlock Holmes enthusiast, Trekkie, Anglophile, aspiring author and intellectual badass. Afficionado of Hugo Weaving films.

Leo. Ravenclaw. Noldo. Targaryen. Little Red.

I am Brian May in dA's Celebrities Crew and Elrond in kittykatkanie's Noldorin Icon Family.

I BELIEVE IN SHERLOCK HOLMES

I hope you enjoy my gallery! :wave:

<><><>

Current Residence: in the sky with diamonds
Operating System: Windows 7
MP3 player of choice: iPod Touch
Wallpaper of choice: Whatever my flavour of the month is.
Favourite cartoon character: Tulio and Miguel from The Road To El Dorado

Stalk me! Yay! :dummy:
| My dA art account: AnnaethGreenleaf | My dA stock account: PaintItBlack-Stock |
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:iconeruanniecaline:
EruannieCaline Featured By Owner Edited Sep 5, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
:D (Big Grin)  thank you very much for all the favs! Hug you have make me so happy :)
(your avatar is great Love )
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9fan21 Featured By Owner Apr 22, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
hello how are you?
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TixieLix Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the fave on my sketch!
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spicedwinefanfic Featured By Owner Jan 8, 2014
Thank-you so much for the fave :) :hug:
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Mononoke-Kitsune Featured By Owner Dec 30, 2013  Student Filmographer
Thanks so much for the fav! :iconsupertighthugplz:

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iDance Featured By Owner Jan 4, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome <3
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Shingel Featured By Owner Dec 29, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for :+fav:ing!
And check out my new Molly art!

Happy New Year cc:
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iDance Featured By Owner Jan 4, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome (:
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oaklungs Featured By Owner Dec 20, 2013
thank you so much for the favourite :)
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iDance Featured By Owner Jan 4, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
you're very welcome :)
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Mellefuielle Featured By Owner Dec 15, 2013  Hobbyist Artist
Thanks for the fav!!)) Heart 
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iDance Featured By Owner Jan 4, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome!! :3
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ever-so-excited Featured By Owner Oct 19, 2013  Professional Digital Artist
Hey there! Thank you so much for adding my "A Wizard's Well Wishes" piece to your favorites! :love: I appreciate it and am very glad you liked it enough to fav it. :nod: Thanks again and good luck writing your Elrond story ;) I think it would be a fascinating topic, so I very much hope you write it!
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iDance Featured By Owner Oct 22, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
No worries! :)

Thank you! I'm very excited to write it :D
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ever-so-excited Featured By Owner Dec 15, 2013  Professional Digital Artist
Hey again! Thank you for adding my For Gondor poster to your favs! :heart: Very glad you enjoyed that LOTR piece, too! ;) Thanks again!
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